Dissonance 20/Finale – Chains of Opportunity

Time seemed to stop. Otto and his henchmen froze in terror, Nyx remained silent, only Eldred moved, staring back at the divine thing that paid attention to him.

Ragthar’s presence was like the unreachable sun in the driven man’s visualisation. The god was an uncaring, even cruel power. This was a deity that had shattered an entire planet, boiling an entire civilisation alive, and dooming the elementals he was supposed to aid in the process. His presence was akin to a pyroclastic cloud that never cooled, a flow of ash and heat that scorched all in its path.

Naught but that presence was felt. The burning gaze showed itself in no visual manifestation. It simply was there, layered atop the space and oppressing all five senses. A god’s might Shattered reality, rebuilding the pieces as the deity desired. Such was the power of the rulers of the cosmos.

“I remember you.”

A chain lashed out from the anvil, every link made of fire and floating ash. Eldred could only clench his teeth as the red and black wrapped around his arm, scorching away the suit that had survived so much in an instant. Though his will remained strong, his body was a plaything to the deity. The chain yanked and Eldred’s arm was forced to the middle of the altar, still clutching the knife.

“An excellent fight.”

The chains burned into Eldred’s flesh, filling the air with the stink of burning meat. An initially porky scent swiftly turned into that of pure char. Breathing heavily and hissing, Eldred refused to scream even as the heat began to melt his bones.

“Twice, this knife has felled my champions.”

The steel of the weapon was glowing incandescently from the ambient heat. Eldred tried to save it with the power of his Core, but the god shoved his pitiful amount of mana back without merely a thought. A cosmic laugh echoed through the air, unheard but felt.

“Do you wish to fight them again?”

Eldred thought back to those two fights. The Cannibal Golem, the fight that had cemented who he now was. The flame elemental, an obstacle in a greater path. Between them, one held so much more value than the other. All the same, the excitement of the fights coursed in his burning veins. “Yes.”

“A boon for a curse. You will fight for my amusement.”

The searing pain suddenly spiked until not even Eldred could hold back the scream tearing from his lungs. In his clutched hand, the knife liquefied. Unseen hammers struck the metal with divine intent, driving sacred might into the changing weapon and the chains into Eldred’s very own essence. What had burned him became him. His flesh mended, coiling chains of flame and ash burning in the surface of his skin, a living tattoo and sign of the covenant.

Pieces of the anvil broke off, floating around the molten knife. Obsidian shards coalesced around it, steel transformed into divinely blessed metal, stained eternally red, forming the core of a larger weapon. Polished volcanic glass melted together, revealing veins of the crimson metal between them.

It was a blade, short for a sword but much too long and thick to be called a dagger. The front was more of a sharpened wedge than a traditional edge. Though the spine of the weapon was largely blunt, the final hand-width of the weapon was sharpened on both sides, tapering into an incredibly fine point.

The grip formed inside Eldred’s grasp, the metal conforming perfectly to the dimensions of his fingers and the ridges in between. A simple guard of red metal separated the black blade and the grip, white as spent ash. Where the pommel would have been, a red loop held onto the final link of a chain.

“Survive.”

“Of course I will,” Eldred growled at the god, stumbling back from the anvil-altar.

The second after his hands had left the stone, it broke apart. The crack went straight down the middle, then spread through the floor. Cosmic glee reverberated through the room as Ragthar’s presence pulled away from his temple. The entire chunk of matter, tumbling through the Universal Sea, trembled.

Every fibre of Eldred’s being yearned to fight.

The driven man charged towards Otto and his trio of henchmen. The training of the last few hours manifested in the new weapon igniting mid-sprint. Eldred buried it in the guts of a man before he had a chance to recover from Ragthar’s presence, then dragged it upwards. A Cultivator’s might combined with the supernatural sharpness of the wedge had Eldred carve the man open from stomach to collarbone.

Immediately, he twisted around and released his grip on the weapon. Segment by segment, the chain of ash and fire emerged from his forearm stretching longer and longer as the momentum of the motion whipped the weapon around.

Otto ducked like the coward he was, his massive form cowering beneath the chain. The weapon instead slammed into the orc next to him – and it was a slam. Rather than the edge, it was the side of the heavy weapon that connected with the enemy.

Eldred pulled his arm back. He expected the chain to be pulled back in automatically, but that part required an exertion of his own ki. It wasn’t taxing, it just needed doing and he hadn’t been aware of it. The weapon started returning slowly.

Slow enough for Otto to get back on his feet. “So, you got a proper weapon from a god, big deal!” The half-ogre shouted and stomped his foot. A piece of the cracking floor came fully loose and flew upwards. A batting hit turned it into a cone of shrapnel.

“Nyx!” Eldred shouted. His banshee understood, breaking her string of patient observation to erect a protective layer of water and ectoplasm. Excess shrapnel flew past both of them.

Eldred staggered where he stood. The drain on his stamina almost dragged him to unconsciousness. Ragthar had healed his arm. That and the weapon were the only boons given.

Swiftly, his ghost lady returned to being incorporeal. The ice retreated from his soul and skin and he jolted back awake. Forcing his Core to pump fire into his veins, he immediately began to bridge the distance between himself and Otto. “You must run!” Nyx shouted in his ear.

At first the suggestion seemed preposterous. Him? Run from that craven half-ogre and his useless henchmen? Eldred was starting to scoff at the notion when he realized that the cracking had never stopped. The ground was trembling. The sharp sounds of splitting stone filled the air.

Eldred could fight Otto, he could not fight against a collapsing building in outer space!

Swerving hard and suddenly, Eldred dashed by Otto. The half-ogre let him pass, if only because he himself was starting to run. When the brave fighter had realized that their situation was doomed, then the coward had as well.

Eldred only made it a couple of metres before the ground before him suddenly shot up half a stair step. Cursing, he stumbled and almost fell. Otto laughed but was too busy booking it to take advantage of that fact. The half-ogre ran with the full speed of a Cultivator. His orcish henchman, somewhere in the Spirit Ascension, was keeping up. The third henchman was screaming for help and went fully ignored. Something behind them crumbled and then he was heard no more.

Eldred was back on his feet and continued to run. “Left,” Nyx whispered in his ear. “Right. Then right again.” They overtook Otto again. The Earth Cultivator had to stop, using his Elemental Mastery to orient himself, while Nyx had simply memorised the floorplan well enough to guide her man.

“Don’t die here,” Eldred growled in passing. He wanted to have the satisfaction of cutting through that blubber personally.

Otto tried to shift the ground directly under Eldred’s feet. The ambient control each Cultivator had over their direct surroundings prevented this. Not only was the half-ogre craven, he also had a knack for denying reality. How had he gotten far enough to get to Cultivate a second Core?

A question buried by the massive chunk of ceiling that dropped in Eldred’s path. He leapt over it, storming on. The ambient temperature was rising further and further. Flames licked the edges of the cracks. Ragthar appeared to enjoy blowing up all manners of structures and celestial objects.

The ceiling in that very first chamber of the underground complex had already fully collapsed by the time they got there. It was their way out of there. Eldred saw an overhang above. His new weapon dangled, then began to pick up momentum. He swung it in a couple of circles before throwing it up. The weight of the weapon guided the chain, making it wrap twice around the overhang before coming to a stop.

There was enough solidity to the chain for Eldred to grab it. He was pulling the chain back in simultaneously, but that drag only aided him, it wasn’t enough to actually pull him upwards against the pull of gravity. Metre by metre he gained ground. “SUCKER!” Otto laughed, ramming his nails straight into the rock. The material yielded to his demands. Despite the fact that he had arrived second in the chamber, he was rapidly catching up. The orc, panting and wheezing, just followed in his boss’ climbing marks.

The two Cultivators reached the top of the chamber simultaneously. Otto threw a rock, Eldred his weapon. The two projectiles clashed in midair. Both of them went straight back to running. There was only a long corridor between them and the portal now. The building shook. Fire was melting stone all around.

Otto leapt through the portal first. Immediately, he tried to put up obstacles, but Eldred was through too fast. He lunged, driving the tip of his burning weapon into Otto’s right pectoral. The weapon stopped against his ribcage. As swift as he had struck, Eldred leapt back, escaping the punishing swing of the club. “You fucking dare?!”

“You are not done running!” Nyx shouted into Eldred’s ear.

The words confused him for a moment, then he realised the heat that still radiated through the portal. They were out of that realm, but portals were a two-way street. If rain could come through a portal, so could part of a shockwave.

Otto had heard the ghost lady as well. Both of them booked it. The wheezing orc emerged from the portal and followed them down the granite corridor. Eldred was no physicist, but he understood that much force in small space was bad.

The isolated corridor had no one that needed warning. There were only the three men, heading for the next corner. They turned it just in time for the Tumbling Temple of Ragthar to collapse into a fiery ball of death.

The shockwave hit them all first. Eldred’s eardrums ruptured from the raw force. It took him off his feet and sent him flying one way, then the other as the backdraft sucked an absurd amount of air back through the portal. Completely disoriented, Eldred found himself lying on his chest, covered in dust and small rocks.

He pushed himself up. He couldn’t hear anything besides a high-pitched ringing. He tried to get up but was hit by intense vertigo. Nyx manifested next to him, helping him to his feet. Her black lips were moving. He stared at her. “I can’t hear you,” he said. She winced. Had he shouted? He had no idea, he couldn’t hear himself.

Balance was a foreign concept. Every bit of his body ached. The final stretch of exhaustion was finally manifesting, pairing with the ringing in his head into a feeling like being blackout drunk, without any degree of pleasant numbness. He was hurting all over. He was barely still conscious. He refused to drop before he eviscerated Otto though.

The half-ogre was similarly swaying on his feet, relying on his last surviving henchman to keep both of them standing. Pure disdain reflected in Otto’s red eyes, mingling with fear. He took one step back, Eldred took one step forwards.

Then, dwarves streamed into the corridor. Dozens of them, appearing out of adjacent corridors with support beams and power tools. They did ask questions, Eldred was sure of that much, but he couldn’t hear them. Even the hammering of the stone drills barely registered to his ears.

The dwarves split them up. Eldred wanted to resist, to gut the half-ogre like a pig, but he simply did not have the strength left to resist half a dozen concerned dwarves with an insistence on first aid protocol. Before he knew it, Eldred was on a stretcher. Everything was a blur and the second he allowed himself to relax, he was out.