Scrambling Through the Thicket

A few tunnels later, and John’s vision swept past the approaching Lawmen, past the acres of quivering green, past the sneering, monstrous face of some sour, goblin-like creature on the northern wall that John had no time to question… and then, past the wall.

There, John took in with his questing eye… a shadowed sea of ruin made into a city.

They were buildings, surely, and even here, wherever here was, their designs were familiar. Whatever lived in this land did not live in oceans of ash like the Flamescales or some other, savage arrangement: this city was designed, constructed, and almost human in geometry and sense. John looked down at a wide, single road, leading from the wall out into a roundabout, and gaps in the nearby buildings that suggested a network of such roads. Four-sided pillars of white stone rose to flank this road periodically; upon their tips burned sourceless blue flames that cast shadows into the surrounding structures.

The structures themselves came in two kinds. The most abundant type was also the most uniform: squat, aquamarine boxes that shimmered reflections of the blue flames outside and, from their tinted windows, emitted the slight glow of life. None of these homes had open windows or doors; none were welcoming.

But each of those newer, occupied buildings was a friendly hearth compared to the other sort of structure: the ones that were rarer, gnarled and twisted like the old limbs of a dying tree. While the occupied homes were uniform and neatly stacked in boring, ugly squares, these elder tombstones of some old architecture were bulbous and twisted in manners that did not speak of functional support. The newer homes never dared to reach above about three of their stories—measured in those neat, uniform squares—but these reached dizzying heights above and beyond John’s vision, the tallest of their blackened trunks reaching the stone heavens and anchoring themselves there. It seemed unlikely that they held aloft the sky; rather, the sky could be all that kept those twisted, crumbling buildings erect.

One such lifeless spire featured a windowless hole, shadowed by the distant light of the false sun; the rest of the old buildings, unlit by the streetlamps or too distant from that life-giving lamp, were shrouded in the darkness of this place. Far and away, over the horizon of lonely spires and squat civilization, something akin to daylight could almost be seen as a yellow haze. John didn’t have time to investigate almost any of it, and a lonely, unoccupied hole was precisely what he sought today.

His tiny tunnels reached into the darkness of that spire. Thinking fast, he opened another portal, this one leading from near the lamp to point into the darkness, and revealed in that gnarled building a dusty, abandoned chamber of stone and shadowed reliefs. Safe enough, John decided, but he would test it himself first. The tunnel opened by him, wide enough to step through, and the alarmed exchanges and queries from the Order, from Collide, and everything in between paused to watch the man seemingly responsible for all this step into some faraway place.

The air was stale but breathable. The earthy stink of the Popot Field was replaced with one of stagnant water left in a pot for too long. It was industrial and dirty, but it appeared safe enough. John kept the tunnel meant for light open, at least until he could work out a different light source. The fine dust below was thick enough to soften his steps; he compressed and sent dust bunnies flying into the air as he glanced around the room and confirmed its two entrances—one to a round, downward-twisting tunnel, the other to a pentagon-shaped hall that twisted left—and the sole window through which he had discovered the room. The reliefs seemed to be a mixture of monsters, unfamiliar script, and events that led to something like a rising pyramid of floating plates.

Curious though he was, John lacked the time. He turned towards his impromptu raiding party. “Rave! Can you keep a simple, sustained light going?”

“Long as that place has air to breathe,” she replied as she leaned in to look.

“I... I mean yeah, I think it does.” John noticed no messages for resisting poison; it would have to do. “Alright, everybody! Get in! We’ll get ourselves sorted out once we’re safe.” The Order members hesitated where John's closer companions did not. "It's not safe here, and we can figure things out once we're through, now get in!"

The vague warning was enough to move bodies in the panic-inducing unfamiliarity of this world. The group was slow to move, in part due to dragging those who continued to wallow in self-pity or despair, but eventually they were ushered through, each one kicking up more dust than the last as they found their places in the abandoned chamber. On John's side, the golden dots grew as they neared; John had less than a minute, if that, but most were already through. Rave's hand lit the room even more thoroughly than the sun-portal had once she was in; she held her arm aloft as she gently toyed with the sustained bulb as it danced just above her fingers. Satisfied, John closed the light portal and looked about... and found Tricia and Deanna, still on his side.

Tricia looked to the golden "Lawmen" with curiosity; Deanna kept her black eyes fixated on John... or so he believed. She licked her lips in a way that seemed conflicted with her naked anger.

"C'mon, both of you," John urged.

Deanna glanced up... and only now did John realize what she had been staring at.

"Deanna," urged the old man, his sad expression still taut, "come here, child."

The redhead tittered and sputtered, but she ultimately fled towards the Confessor.

Tricia began to follow suit... and missed John's lips as she kissed the corner of his frown.

“What-?”

“That was… that wasn’t a dream, right?” A timid glance, as if bracing for rejection, snuck out from her eyes. “Did we really… discuss what I... I mean, did we also...?”

“Yes... we did," John whispered, "and I... I mean, I really want to talk about it, but right now I just have to keep you safe."

Tricia nodded even as an embarrassed smile crept into her features. With a half-push, half-pat on her rump, he urged his wife through the portal.

“Okay, as long as we schedule it relativ-”

They were close enough to make out now. "You got it," John hastily replied as he shut the last tunnel that led to hopefully unoccupied ruin.

John doubted his trick went unnoticed by the approaching horde, but for now he had to get a feel for who he was even dealing with… and that meant gauging how much like a real city this place was, as opposed to being some very elaborate illusion barrier. That first Lawman's information made them sound something quite akin to a police ****... but the weapons and numbers didn't speak of anything like a civil affair.

<Master...?>

John blinked... and rubbed his temples as he tried to focus. Juni?

<That's Juniluny Snickerbottom to you, you ungrateful, unfettered, unflinching underling-!>

Juni! Holy shit, I... I mean, of course! Where is everyone? I had summoned so many-

<Are you daft?! Everyone is bloody here... and the whole damn place won't stop changing! I can barely hear or see anything from this piss-pot of a room, but the walls are white again, all the grime's gone, and someone's crying and-w-y-YOU?! What are you- hey, you can't just **** me off the da-!>

Juni? The golden men--or women, or whatever they were--slowed their approach. Juniluny, are you-?

<NEWMAN! WHY IS THIS CUNT HERE?! WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING BACK HE-?! Whoa- whoooa... this is weird...>

That's... Is that... Tara?! Tara, why are you in the Temple?!

<Why are you... in some weird fucking field full of- Why am I- What the Hell is this thin-> Her voice cut off anew.

A grumbling Juniluny replaced her. <His orders are for me to man the machine, moron, so sod off!>

Juniluny, why is Tara back in the Temple?!

<Because you captured her, obviously- look, Master, forget that for now! Where even are you?>

John thought to answer with his minimap data... and then remembered the more accurate option. He switched the Eye modes-

Kingdom of Vantage, the Fallen Crossroads.
King: Bianca the Peak
Sovereignty: You have no sovereignty in this realm.
Commandments: Loyalty of the Lawmen, Population Control, Segregation of Disks
A new, unknown Kingdom, not especially large and yet forbidding in most ways. Explore more of the Kingdom to learn more about it.

Commandments? John vaguely recalled Tita calling his Temple orders the same. Shit, but no sovereignty? Does that mean I can't-?

The Lawmen’s buzzing was now a dull roar... and suddenly, two of their number dove into the field where Yui had vanished. If they had spotted and intended to hurt her, it was unlikely that John had much more time to save her.

His stomach sank when he watched four more do the same to the field from which he thought they had saved everyone. The remainder of the Lawmen, totaling twenty in all, buzzed as they flew a closing circle around John. He spotted them in rapid succession: most were of lower level, and apparently lower rank, than the “Brave” that appeared to lead them.

“Yuukukuk-aaak!”

Oh… well that’s not good. Juniluny, do you know this language?

<No… nor their forms, or emblems, or even what these bizarre tentacle fields are for, though I’d hazard to guess “food” or some equivalent.>

The circling slowed… and surprised, angry yells filled the air. Human yells. John’s fists clenched as the Lawmen who took their earlier dives came up with their prizes.

Yui Decker, held in gauntleted grips by her hair and her left ankle as she screamed and cried.

An unknown, naked young woman, dark-skinned and babbling incoherently, with her arms pulled taut by the Lawmen who didn’t want to be too near each other lest their flapping wings collide.

But near that stranger, floating now as she stirred from slumber into surprised cries of her own… was the pink, pitiable succubus John had barely managed to save before. “Ah- who are- where am I?! Master? Master-!” she wailed.

John glared up at the Brave. His vision blurred with anger. “Let them go.”

“Utubifi?”

“Dovak kuudas?”

A gentle, alien murmur came from the creatures, their voices tinny from the filters of their helms. John wasn’t going to wait for a translator, sign language, or whatever else would cross this bridge; he’d just have to sort things with “the law” later.

He took an inventory of the unexpected hostages.

Lily
Level 1 Succubus Minimus
<The Extinction Kings>
HP: 25/25
MP: 90/90
Stats: Str 12, Agi 14, End 20, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 24, Lib 56
Status Effects: Resurrection Sickness (14 days), Terminal Demon Illness (Amor)
Qualities: alluring, demon, flight (disabled), immune to charm, sex eater (disabled), short-sighted
R/S: +200
An adorable, weak, and occasionally pathetic succubus who cannot gain levels or drain life energy. Her last orders were to serve you, but she has fallen quite head-over-heels for you and even married you against all better judgment given the conflict of interests and lack of professionalism in doing so. She secretes a lust-inducing sweat and has a habit of sweating kind of a lot. Her pitiful shortsightedness requires very special lenses to correct her vision, as demon eyes do not focus and perceive the world as those of mortal creatures do.

Penelope Gorbachev
Level 16 Poet
<Gorbachev Opekuny>
HP: 550/550
MP: 518/518
Stats: Str 14, Agi 19, End 25, Int 49, Wis 43, Cha 9, Lib 30
Status Effects: Resurrection Sickness (6 days)
Qualities: None
R/S: -29
A 32-year-old woman of mixed aboriginal, African, and French heritage, “Penelope Roy” was a walking history of revolution and hostility to old, European powers in her blood. Ironic, then, that she serves the Opekuny and, by extension, the Order of the Golden Rose. Stationed in Quebec, her homeland by blood and parentage, Penelope lives largely in isolation due to two quirks she developed as a Gorbachev: her regular eyes were replaced by one of her opened Gorbachev Eyes and something in her “second puberty” made it almost impossible for her to not speak in rhyme or song. Recently she’s been relieved of both oddities. She was recently absorbed by the First Truth and then reformed on Vantage.

He checked his blink skill one more time before confirming he could do it. He opened a tunnel over his eye to just outside the window of the impromptu safehouse and then quickcasted three, finger-wide tunnels on the palm of his hand while keeping it pressed to himself; each of the latter three opened over the navel of one of the captured girls. “I know what happens when you beat up police in my world, compared to just running away… so I’m going to bet it at least kind of works the same here.”

“Yuukukuk-aaak!” repeated the Brave before he lowered to the floor. The Lawmen holding the girls slowly caught on to the new, gray circle that appeared over the bellies of their captives. The Brave’s wings had barely ceased fluttering before John revealed his hand and shoved three of his other fingers through to tap each girl… and blinked.

The Brave flinched when the stranger vanished… as did the six Lawmen who now gripped air.

The blink worked… although only John landed on his feet. Rave and the other flinched as the air burped with the sudden appearance of four more naked bodies, three of which more or less crumbled into the ashes. John stared at Rave’s light and then at the open window before quickcasting an inward-facing tunnel on either side of the opening, sealing it shut. “Christ,” John breathed.

Yui scrambled to her feet and covered her mud and ash-covered body with even more wild confusion; Penelope, yet another total stranger in this affair, did the same until she noticed Tricia. Lily scrambled towards John’s legs and cried with joy into his crotch. “M-Maaster-er-errr-! Mmmm…” John tried to gently push her head away from his half-hard meat as he looked the room over. “Are there any other windows or openings? Anything that will let them see the light?”

“Sounds like they weren’t too friendly,” Rave answered flatly.

“Y-You!” Penelope stared daggers at Tricia and clenched her teeth... and remained there, kneeling in the dust that now caked her left side, as she tried to do... something.

Tricia stared back... and remained similarly, intently focused.

The two stared at one another quietly... and it wasn’t until their joined, shocked expressions that John realized what either tried to do. He checked their sheets again; sure enough, neither had any sign of Eyes, Gorbachev heritage, or even that weird class Tricia once possessed.

“My... my voice,” Penelope almost croaked.

“My... Eyes,” Tricia barely managed.

“My Mastoompf,” Lily half-offered, half-gurgled as she finally managed to swallow the head of John’s cock.

The mood was a strange one, certainly... especially when John caught Deanna’s curious stares, not realizing that they were for Lily this time. With an audible pop, John extracted himself from his secretary-wife. “Alright, everyone! Quiet down, now,” he urged, contemplating activation of his aura.

Thankfully, most had obeyed... most.

“Newman, where the fuck are we?” Travolta demanded.

“We’re in Vantage, the Fallen Crossroads. Anyone ever heard of it?”

A stony silence answered him, broken only by Penelope’s sudden lunge at Tricia. Tricia’s response was half-hearted... at least until she realized the struggle had to be a physical one. Penelope had barely squeezed Tricia’s neck before the leveled-up Gorbachev grabbed the enemy’s wrists and pried her hands off. A deep-burrowing knee slammed into Penelope’s gut, knocking the wind from her before she doubled over.

“She... I think she’s... no...” Tricia shook her head as if to deny it... and then continued her thought with a kick to the girl’s chin. Penelope was sent sprawling backwards while Tricia fell over, clutching her bare toes in pain.

“Told you we should’ve sparred, Blondie.”

"Tricia, stop!"

“Cease this at once!” yelled the oldest Hospitaler as she stood between them.

John clutched Lily’s head as gently as he could to get himself through the body of Order personnel that rushed to intervene. The growing commotion as everyone started muttering or wailing anew was getting to be too much.

Fine, fuck it.

You activated Cult of Personality.

The effects were varied... but he was too heavily leveled, and his audience mostly too meek, to ignore him. While Rave, Travolta, and Tricia kept their wits about them, the rest were suddenly focused on him. "Everyone, please just be quiet for now while we figure this out. Tricia," he whispered with a motion of his hand, "leave the other Gorbachev alone for now, at least until we figure out why she's here. Yui," he added, pointing behind the crowd, "stop trying to leave; I will always find you." Ah, that sounded... better in my head... It had a decent-enough effect: the reporter quietly returned from where she had nearly gone fleeing up into the corkscrewing hallway and settled back in with the crowd, still covering her nudity. "Okay... Travolta," John began, sensing the furious Collide leader would be first to break the silence, "I really don't know where we are or how we got here. Far as I can tell, this is a Kingdom... which I only knew about in theory until now, but that's besides the point."

"And this Kingdom is called Vantage," Travolta replied.

"Never heard of it," Rave sighed, "and you don't get into our line of work without hearing of a few, at least."

John set his eyes on Yui, half-expecting her to speak. Her huge brown eyes blinked back, alarmed. "Idon'tknow, I mean, I don't know, I don't- know!" Her voice came out in a frantic rush.

"T-That's fine, Yui."

"H-How do you know-ow-know who I am?!"

John offered as sympathetic a smile as he could manage. "It's a power I have. Like I know this one's name is Penelope Gorbachev."

Penelope froze in surprise; Tricia only continued to glare. "You... how did you know my name? How am I..." Penelope's fingers gently padded the flesh around her eyes and then her throat; if her own nudity or the filth coating her body bothered her, she, like most of them, made no sign of it.

Rave continued to pat herself down, however, as she spoke. "Alright, unknown Kingdom… and we’re not baking in a field anymore, but this place is going to get pretty chilly without clothes, so… that’s great. So, question? How did we go from being stepped on by..." Rave paused and flinched as if a migraine had suddenly hit her. "... fuck, whatever-it-was, to waking up in a field of lazy hentai tentacles?"

"I-" John paused and gave Rave a curious look before continuing, "I don't even know what you mean by that."

Nor did most of the room, it seemed... but thinking back, John realized that this lot was **** the last time he saw them.

"Your brains got splattered all over Tricia," Travolta offered, his voice slowly calming, "after someone blew them out with a gun. Tricia looked pretty freaked out... and then... she did something, or something happened. Something..." Both members of Collide struggled to recall.

John gave Tricia a searching glance, to which she shook her head. "I... I can't remember. I don't even remember that happening to you, but such trauma could well be suppressed if I... well, I'm happy it's not true, or doesn't appear to be true, at least."

Yui suddenly gave everyone a pensive look before looking back down to the ashes.

"Yui-"

"T-That's Ms. D-D-Decker to you-u... u... u," she stuttered. Her eyes twitched as she started to tremble.

"... Ms. Decker, do you remember anything more than that?"

She shook her head as her eye twitched. John dared to chance it.

You cast Read Mind on Yui Decker.

My ghostwriting pad is gone my archives are gone my clothes are gone and I’m totally lost! Why am I here I shouldn't be here I shouldn't be seen holy fuck is this the Order? Is this a huge mind game for them? This must be the indoctrination method. They want to convert me, eat my brain, and turn me into one of their maids or some shit. I tried interviewing that maid, remember how cagey she got? I'm onto them. They're onto me. Holy fuck I'm caught right now. Who are these people? Did they get this Warlock guy? Is this the Warlock? He had to be; he’s the one who cut off Will Brighton's hands. He attacked a retired Warden and lived. Who does that?! It’s awesome but fuck, what if I’m next?! Holy fuck how are we alive? What happened to us? How'd I get here? Why am I here-

... and so John cut off the link before he grew dizzy with her frenzied, anxiety-multiplying thoughts.

"Well, wherever we are... the Order is far away, at least." A mixed response from the crowd at that.

“That remains to be seen,” Galley sighed.

"You told me you'd tell me what you did to my father." John turned to see Deanna still very anxiously glaring at him. "Well?"

John nodded more in contemplation than agreement. "I got that Warden to cut off his hands,” he started, stunning the adopted daughter, “and then we were going to face off... and then I was somewhere else, with Tricia, with... some of you. Shit, that's right... you guys..." John's eyes widened as he looked at a particular Knight's closed-eyed expression... and briefly caught a flash of it in that glowing, infinite fall. "So... everyone..." John had thrown people... out, wherever out was, back wherever there had been. Were they back at the mansion, then? Were they here?

The half-merfolk bit her lip to keep in all that she wanted to say.

“So your dad’s safe and sound, back at his mansion,” Galley suddenly offered. Deanna looked up, her confusion clear. “I mean, he’s back there, surrounded by healers and allies… and I saw that he got out of the way. I don’t see Moira or the Spear Warden here, either, so they’re with him, too. He couldn’t be safer and is probably all patched up by now, is all I’m saying…”

Galley’s words trailed off as she saw tears well in Deanna’s eyes… followed, unexpectedly, by the redhead’s hushed voice. “Thank you.”

Galley coughed into her closed fist as she looked away.

<If you’re done flirting with the most boring pre-orgy I’ve witnessed in all my years,> Juniluny yawned, <either get to the good stuff or get up here and tell that sodding girl to stop crying!>

Crying? Why is anyone crying up there?

<By what I’ve been told, that dullahan you dropped off in Ireland--with your identity and secrets, I’ll remind you--is none too happy about coming back.>

You mean Regan? No. No no no, I didn’t even…

<Yes, yes, yes! Now get up here!>

“Alright… can one of you cover this window somehow? Maybe some kind of… I don’t know, shaping spell? Can anyone create clothes?”

A brief pause… until Penelope and Yui both raised their hands. “I need material to convert,” Penelope offered, “but this dust should do… ha…. Haha…” The stranger began giggling to some joke John didn’t get quite yet.

“I can m-ma-m-m-maaAaaake disgui-ui-ses,” Yui managed.

The lot of them blinked at the two with obvious distrust, but John nodded in approval. “Good enough. Make clothes for everyone here… starting with the women. Rave, Galley: can you keep everyone here and in line while I’m gone?”

Tricia slowly walked up to her husband. “J-John, where are you going? I mean, we just… there are just so many unknown variables, and we don’t even know-”

“Just to the Temple,” he assured, “then I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

She only nodded as he began to hearth. Slowly, everyone began to calm and remember to cover up their more sensitive areas as they awaited clothes. Deanna continued to watch and wonder. Rave eventually tired of holding the light and found a Hospitaler that offered to create one from magic. They were beginning to work together, in a tense and odd harmony… all because of John’s influence, though he had yet to appreciate that. He gave off an aura of calm in their eyes… which was ironic, as he was very near the end of his wits with everything that was unraveling.