The monotonous sound of boots striking polished floors echoed as Scott paced around a massive chamber. The towering pillars, each over fifty feet tall and more than ten meters thick, loomed around him. The voidweaver barely noticed his pristine surroundings, which were devoid of furniture except for three massive, makeshift thrones embedded into the far side of the northernmost wall.
Scott muttered inaudible words to himself, his pace quickening as his visage contorted with frustration. A few feet away, three android entities—the Wutas—stood silently, their glowing blue eyes fixed on him.
Suddenly, Scott paused, impatiently glaring at the Wutas. “Any news yet?”
“Great One,” the central android began, “the surgery is still ongoing. There’s no need to worry about your minions. They will be properly restored to their optimum conditions.”
The Wuta on the right added, “Great One, should you change your mind about the modifications, we—”
“Enough of that nonsense,” Scott snapped. “You can leave. Let me know when there’s an update,” he said, dismissing the androids with a wave.
The Wutas bowed collectively, and a portal manifested behind them. Without another word, the androids departed, leaving Scott alone in the chamber.
“Fuck!” Scott cursed, his expression darkening further. A week had passed since their arrival in Carcosa, and all members of his party, except for himself, had collapsed as soon as they arrived.
If only I had been awake, they wouldn’t have had to endure so much, Scott thought, his mind heavy with guilt. He could tell how much his companions had suffered from the myriad injuries they had sustained. With him unconscious, they couldn’t fight at their best, always wary that someone or something might end his life at any moment.
Although Scott had chosen Carcosa as the safest place because he knew most champions couldn’t reach the secluded floor, the fact that the strange tower boasted top-notch facilities—ones his companions desperately needed—also influenced his decision to flee to the ominous location.
Lost in thought, Scott was suddenly pulled back to reality as flames flared on each of the three makeshift thrones—a turquoise flame hovered above the leftmost throne, while amber and blackened flames hovered above the centermost and rightmost thrones.
“Great One, we apologize for the delay,” a powerful voice thundered within the room.
Scott, unfazed, glanced at the thrones. “And?” he asked, his displeasure evident.
“The trifling gods of this plane have placed a bounty on the heads of you and your minions. Although they cannot embark on this futile task themselves, they have stirred up the greed of all champions below the Point of No Return—”
“What are they offering?” Scott interjected, focusing on the flames.
The voice lingered briefly before continuing, "Whoever manages to slay your minions will be granted riches beyond their wildest imagination, items to aid their ascent, and the choice of being trained in any sanctuary they desire, should they deem it necessary."
"And what’s the price on my head?" Scott asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Great One, those abominable gods dared to place a value on someone as priceless as you,” the voice began. “They’ve promised anyone who eliminates you, embers of any authority of their choosing, ownership of a city or sanctuary anywhere before the Point of No Return, unimaginable wealth, items of the highest caliber, and guaranteed safe passage to the Point of No Return. If they choose to remain within the city or sanctuary they establish, they’ll be assured at least five hundred thousand years of uncontested rule, supported by lesser god candidates from the council.”
Scott chuckled softly, though his gaze remained cold. No wonder there were so many of them, those arrogant assholes really went all out, he thought, recalling the overwhelming number of champions that had besieged his party.
A portal suddenly materialized in the hall, drawing Scott’s attention. Five distinct wutas, each a darker shade of green and with more human-like features, stepped out in quick succession, yet the portal didn’t close. Scott frowned, noticing the variations among the wutas for the first time. As he kept his eyes on the colorless, swirling mass, another figure emerged, causing his brows to rise.
“This isn’t quite the reunion I expected,” Orion beamed, adjusting his glasses. “I came as soon as I heard the news,” the mage added, smiling.
Scott stared at the mage, who looked no different from the last time he’d seen him. Then his gaze shifted to the wutas accompanying the mage, and a thought crossed his mind. This lunatic has already improved the wutas… just how much knowledge did he absorb during his time here? he wondered.
Scott approached Orion’s prime, wearing a smile. The wutas instinctively bowed and collectively declared, “We greet the Great One.”
Scott, however, ignored the androids and focused on Orion, stopping a few paces from the mage. “I’m glad you’re okay. Your clone collapsed before I could ask it anything, but I figured you’d know what was happening through your shared connection,” Scott said.
Orion smiled, staring intently at the voidweaver. “Now that I see you with my own eyes, I can tell how much you’ve changed,” he giggled mysteriously. “I was waiting for you guys at the appointed place when the news broke. The gods spared no expense broadcasting the bounty across the floors,” the mage declared with a cheeky grin. “The minds of both the powerful and delusional are filled with wild thoughts, dreaming of how they’ll slay us. It’s chaotic out there, and I love it.”
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In the period they hid in Carcosa; the news of the bounty had reached every area below the Point of No Return, and champions were searching every nook and cranny for them.
“Are you going to tell me what triggered this?” Orion suddenly asked.
“Yes, I owe you—all of you, that much. But not now, let the others awaken first,” Scott replied. He was about to continue when the powerful voice suddenly echoed again, and the flames flared wildly within the hall. “Great One, pardon me for interrupting your discussion with your minion,” it apologized, “but there’s news that might interest you.”
Scott and Orion turned their attention to the flames. To the mage, they appeared as nothing more than animated fire, unable to hear the voice but detecting subtle vibrations within the space. Scott, however, frowned. "What news?" he asked, sensing the weight of impending doom.
“The guardian of this tower is about to reestablish the bridge between timelines,” the voice declared.
Instantly, Scott’s expression turned ashen, and Orion, who stood close by, noticed the shock on the voidweaver’s face.
“What’s going on?” Orion asked mentally, his curiosity piqued.
“The administrator is about to reestablish the bridge between timelines,” Scott repeated the message mentally, and Orion’s smile faltered, replaced by genuine shock, only for a deranged grin to quickly take its place.
“Every champion, everywhere, below the Point of No Return, will be able to enter this timeline, right?” Orion muttered through their private channel, and Scott nodded in agreement. That was his interpretation as well.
Orion suddenly burst into laughter. “This might work in our favor,” the mage managed to say between fits of laughter. Scott focused on him, waiting for an explanation. Orion didn’t keep him waiting, saying, “A connection being established between every possible timeline will undoubtedly increase the peril we face. But within that impending chaos, there’s opportunity,” the mage declared.
Scott frowned, trying to grasp what the mage was hinting at. His mind raced through possible theories, none of which made sense, until a stray thought filled his mind, and his brows lifted in realization.
“Oh? It seems you understand what I’m getting at,” Orion grinned, adjusting his glasses.
“Once the connection is established, nothing will stop us from fleeing and bouncing between timelines. It would—or rather, it should—be much harder for them to hunt us across an infinite number of timelines than waiting around in this one,” Scott voiced his thoughts on the channel.
Applause echoed through the hall as Orion beamed, clapping while keeping his gaze fixed on the voidweaver. “Exactly,” he began. “There’s no reason for us to remain here like sitting ducks. We’ll drag the chaos across the timelines, wreaking havoc along the way. While we might not win, we can ensure that—”
“Everyone loses,” Scott interjected, a mysterious gleam in his eyes as he locked eyes with the mage. Orion, genuinely surprised that Scott had seemingly read his thoughts, quickly shifted from shock to curiosity, then to excitement.
“Exactly,” the mage affirmed with a nod. “If we’re lucky, we might even sneak into the Point of No Return through another timeline, or we could simply divert the heat onto our variants from other timelines,” Orion said with a crooked smile. “I, for one, know that my variants wouldn’t mind,” he chuckled.
Scott mirrored the crooked smile. He couldn’t care less about his variants—after all, most of them, those who were still alive, were already beyond redemption. However, the same couldn’t be said for Zara’s, Ember’s, Slim’s, and Plume’s. Fi-Fi also crossed the voidweaver’s mind, but he wasn’t sure if the elemental slime was among those being hunted.
“We don’t have to decide on that right now,” Orion said, noticing Scott’s reservations. “We can take it case by case,” he explained.
Scott nodded in agreement. He had no qualms about screwing over a variant who had committed despicable acts, but he preferred not to actively campaign against those who were relatively innocent. A troubling thought crossed his mind, and he frowned. Just because he didn’t target the variants didn’t mean the champions across the timelines wouldn’t. After all, it was his variant's actions that had driven his friends' variants to hop across multiple timelines, seeking revenge and a twisted sense of closure.
“Something on your mind?” Orion asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
“You’ve already thought this through, haven’t you?” Scott began, his gaze fixed on the mage. “Excluding yours and mine, no matter what we do from this point forward, there’s no guarantee that the others' variants won’t suffer. In fact, they might harbor even stronger resentment towards us. After all, we—I have effectively screwed them over.”
“It’s amusing, isn’t it?” Orion replied with a chuckle. “Anyone who dared to begin their ascent across the timelines should have known the risks that come with the ultimate prize. You’ve done nothing wrong. If they resent us, so be it. It changes nothing. If they come after us, we’ll put them out of their misery. Better to die by our hands than by others'. After all, when we reach the Point of No Return, their existence will only serve to facilitate ours. That’s the undeniable truth,” the mage declared.
Orion stepped forward, locking eyes with Scott. “What will you do?” he asked, his question carrying a deeper meaning.
“What we’ve always done,” Scott replied instantly. “Survive.”
Orion grinned, nodding approvingly. There was no hesitation in the voidweaver’s words or actions. They were about to embark on a journey that would undoubtedly alter the history of the tower as everyone knew it.
Scott’s emotionless eyes shifted away from the mage, turning toward the thrones. “I intend to unleash our army on my adversaries,” he declared. “How many wutas can be prepared for battle?”
“As many as you require, Great One,” the voice responded instantly, with a hint of excitement.
“Prepare them for standby,” Scott ordered. “You and the rest of our forces should ready yourselves to descend. The appointed time is drawing closer than ever,” he added.
Orion’s smile widened. Although he couldn’t hear the details of what Scott discussed with the elders, he could piece together a general idea from his declaration. I can’t wait for all this to begin; the calm before the storm is always the best moment… the mage mused.
“Great One, we are all prepared. You won’t be disappointed,” the voice assured, its confidence infectious.
Scott nodded silently, and a portal suddenly opened beside him. He turned to Orion. “We have much to discuss. Let’s go see the others while we’re at it,” he said mentally.
Without another word, Scott stepped into the portal and vanished. Orion quickly followed, leaving the wutas behind as the portal closed behind them. Almost immediately, a new portal manifested, and a gigantic android abomination stepped into the hall, prompting the wutas to kneel instantly. Unlike the others, this one had blackened tendrils squirming around its surface, reminiscent of the tendrils coating the War Hammer of the Mad God.
“Report,” an ominous and authoritative voice boomed through the hall.