Read Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God Online
Authors: Brian McGoldrick
Tags: #Fantasy
I am still hurt, but I can move more or less normally. Forcing myself to my feet, I keep my expression blank, so that Wendell does not get an idea of how weak I really am at the moment, and turn around. Crossing my arms and resting them on the railing, as I lean forward, I stare at The Nameless.
Floating in midair, The Nameless is wearing the brown robes instead of the grey leathers, but the ever present iron-shod staff is in his hand. His lips are twisted into a self-satisfied smirk, and the hood is facing my direction, so I can assume he is looking at me.
“Well? Why are you here this time?”
“I am touched by your single-minded efforts to get back to the Labyrinth of Yggr, so I have come to help you.”
My eyes are drawn to the pattern-marked cube behind him. “Yeah, right. So this thing is how you fucked us over. What is it?”
The Nameless chuckles. “This? It is just something that should have been destroyed long long ago, but luckily, it was not. Though, how it ever wound up on this pathetic little world, in this pathetic little multiverse, that I may never know. Besides, if you are so ardently trying to return, you should be thanking me for introducing you to such a wonderful new multiverse.”
“Then, Earth and Taereun aren't part of the same multiverse?”
“Of course not, do you think these pathetic little FBI agents could have ever defeated my priests with simple guns, if I could have properly given them my Power?”
Down below, seven of the priests are kneeling on the ground, with their hands zip-tied behind their backs. The rest are corpses, except for Beard, who apparently escaped.
“If Earth is such a pissant place, why are you here now?”
The Nameless smiles broadly. “To collect one last harvest, before taking the cube and casting this world aside.”
I laugh. I laugh so hard, my stomach hurts. “Hey, Wendell. This god is about to create another incident, that you won't be able to solve. You won't even have any evidence when he's done.”
When Wendell does not say anything, I look over my shoulder. He is just staring at The Nameless with a mixture of fear, anger and hate. Urehara-sensei still has his frown, and his fear is more pronounced than before. Come to think of it, Clarence and the surviving FBI agents are just staring up in awe and fear too.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“You could probably be considered insane. Your mind is broken, and you do not feel fear the same that others do. Theirs is what could be considered a far more natural reaction to the presence of a God.”
I am confused. “The time you gave us the big fuck you, everyone was acting normally. At least, I guess you could call it normal for gamers.”
“That was just a dream state. I was not really there, not like I am now.”
The cube starts to hum, and brilliant silver-white light fills the pit. There is no point in trying to stop it. I already know I cannot hurt him, at least not yet. Besides, do I really care what happens to anyone else?
“How many are you going to take this time?”
“A bit over a million, with another twelve million odd souls being converted into the energy to transfer them.”
“And the gate?”
“I will leave it open for a little while. Just be sure to use it soon. I hope to you soon, Brand.” The Nameless smiles and disappears. The cube and the seven priests disappear at the same time, leaving just some zip-ties on the ground along with the corpses.
MOTHERFUCKER! How did that piece of shit know the new name I am going use? I never said it out loud even once.
A ring-tone sounds, and Wendell takes out a phone and answers it.
“Yes, sir.”
I cannot make out the words, but I can still hear the distorted screaming voice from the other end.
“You look rather pensive.” Urehara-sensei leans against the railing next to me, staring out over the now empty pit.
“That self-proclaimed, two-bit, lying, fucking piece of shit god is still playing me.” I feel tired. I do not know how I am going to turn the tables on him, but one day I am going to fuck that god over royally.
“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.” Wendell hangs up the phone. “People have started dying, or more accurately, they have died, and others have started reporting their deaths.”
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound is coming from an alcove in the wall behind the stairway we are on. Urehara-sensei, Wendell, and I look at each other and start moving down the stairs.
Clarence and the other FBI agents meet us at the alcove, everyone looking at the information terminal. Wendell moves to the terminal and hits a key, connecting to the incoming call.
“J'Rome, what the hell are you ...” A man of Latino descent stares at Wendell, with his mouth hanging slightly open.
Wendell smiles. “Senator Gutierrez, how interesting to see you contacting this place.”
It appears Wendell was right about the Congressional oversight. Senator Gutierrez is a California Senator, one known to be very tight with the Party Chairman.
“That terminal is in a classified military site. What are you doing there Special Agent?”
“Tracking down the source of the single largest mass murder incident in the history of the world. My partner, Special Agent Jones, no relation, and I will be coming to see you tomorrow. I strongly suggest you make yourself available at your offices.”
The Senator pales, before his face turns red. “I'll see you terminated and locked away in a military prison, Special Agent.”
Wendell smiles, and the Senator cuts the connection.
Clarence has an expectant look on his face. “Will the Senator be a target for Sanctioning, Special Agent Jones.”
“Once we have every last piece of information he possesses, he will be a target for Sanction, Special Agent Jones.”
I move to a corner of the room, and Urehara-sensei follows me.
“I need to meditate for a time, before we use that portal, Sensei. I still have a lot more internal damage than I want the FBI to be aware of.”
“I will make sure you are not disturbed.”
“Thank you, Sensei.” I sit down, in the lotus position, and enter a deep trance. The ki flooding my body accelerates my metabolic functions, increasing my natural rate of healing, while at the same permeating my damaged organs and continuing the process of repairing the damage done by the Od. It is not as painful as using the Od, but the healing still stimulates the remaining pain.
Once the worst of the worst damage has been corrected, I stand up. There is still damage, so I will need to exercise some care, but the potentially life-threatening damage has been dealt with.
Urehara-sensei glances at me, before returning his attention to the FBI. An underground room extends on the opposite end of the pit from the obsidian block and the spell formations. Perhaps a hundred feet long and thirty wide, it is filled with racks of computers. All the agents are in the room, either hunched over the terminals that are scattered around the room or talking on cell phones.
“Are you better now?”
I shrug and start walking toward the FBI. “More or less. I still need to deal some of the lingering effects of what I did, but that can be tended to in the Labyrinth.”
Stopping at the entry to the room, I look around. Most of the visible displays appear to have status information, but I cannot identify what it is for. One large monitor has a map of North America, with countless red dots showing. In the area of major cities, the dots are so dense that they become swaths of red.
“Special Agent Jones.”
Both Wendell and Clarence look in my direction, but only Wendell comes over to us. Clarence turns back to his monitor, poking at a keyboard in a rather rapid two-finger typing style.
“We're leaving. I hope you don't intend to interfere.”
A complicated series of emotions seems to flow across Wendell's face, before his normal mask is back in place. “I have no intention of dying, especially in a futile effort. You and Mr. Urehara both fled through that portal thing in the confusion. No one is going to dispute that.”
“Have you confirmed how many died?” Urehara-sensei's voice is soft.
Wendell sighs. “This mess makes the first incident look like a child's prank. At last count, the FBI had accounted for over three million dead, only one-tenth of those Taereun players. According to these computers, the total number of dead Taereun players is just over 1.2 million. I very much doubt that will prove to be inaccurate. Mr. McGuinness, I would ask only one thing. Please, terminate that god with extreme prejudice.”
I cannot keep from grinning. “Special Agent, I damn well intend to try.”
Wendell's smile reaches his eyes for the first time that I have seen. “Good bye, Mr. McGuinness. Good bye, Mr. Urehara.”
The alcove with the portal has a number of strange devices that resemble those in the Chamber of Transition. This portal must be a similar type of magical technology. Looking at the the portal itself, there is an arch, almost identical to the teleport stations scattered around the Labyrinth of Yggr. Filling the arch is the normal faintly shimmering silver energy field.
Glancing at Urehara-sensei, I step through the portal.
I step into an alcove, curtained off with half-rotting hides. Looking behind me, I see an idol on a pedestal that looks familiar. I am sure I should recognize it, but I just cannot place it. The alcove is dim, with the flickering light coming from the other side of the curtain.
Less than ten seconds pass, Urehara-sensei steps out of the portal. He looks around for a moment, until his face twists into an expression of sheer horror.
“AAARRRR!” As his scream echoes, Urehara-sensei grabs his head, and his eyes roll up, so only the whites are visible. His knees buckle, and I catch him, lowering him to the ground.
What the fuck is happening to him?
“Wha' dat?”
I just barely hear the voice over Urehara-sensei's continuing screams. The words are in the goblin tongue. I learned a bit of the goblin tongue when I acquired Talon's memories.
Urehara-sensei's condition reminds me of our arrival in the Chamber or Transition. Could Urehara-sensei be dealing external memories? He had a “character” in Taereun; could The Nameless have force fed those memories into Urehara-sensei's body?
When the light grows brighter, I look over my shoulder. The hide curtains are being held apart by an ugly wizened creature. Its broad monkey-like face is framed by two huge ears, and its fanged lower jaw, with a hefty underbite, is hanging open. Its mottled brownish-grey skin has an oily sheen and the texture of the pigskin cover on a football. The somewhat bulbous body, with bandy arms and legs, resembles an orangutan. At 4'6” tall, it is one damn big goblin.
“Da fuck? 'Uman?”
As I spin, my swords ring, while clearing their sheathes. The first blade slices open the goblin's throat, and a fraction of second later, the second removes its head.
The goblin's corpse falls backward, spasmodically grabbing the rotting hide curtain. Blue blood sprays outward into the room behind the goblin, as the curtain falls down on its body. The stench of goblin shit, worse than a latrine trench in the middle of summer, fills the air.
The floor of the cave is uneven, and an empty throne, crudely made, sits near the alcove. More than thirty goblins are scattered around the cave. They stare at me, with a mixture of expression's, confusion predominant.
“Da fuck?”
“Tur'grod dead?”
“Kill 'uman!”
In ones and twos, they begin to charge toward my alcove, drawing a variety of weapons as they advance. Dirty, notched, and blood crusted, their weapons are certain to leave infected wounds on most living things.
While they are not exceptionally dextrous or agile, pound for pound, goblins are many times stronger than humans. Their strength and mine should be about equal, so I channel some ki through my body and heighten my reaction speed.
The alcove entry I am blocking is narrow, and only two goblins can attack me at a time, without getting in each other's way. Blocking the simplistic attacks of the two, I toe-kick the one on the right in the groin, one testicle ruptures and the muscles tear. The goblin falls to the ground, squealing in agony. As my right foot touches the ground, my right blade cleaves the skull of the other goblin.
Kicking the corpse into the goblin behind it, I stab my left hand blade through that goblin's eye and step forward to avoid the hack from the goblin to the right. Slicing my right hand blade along the right side goblins throat, I open up its jugular and cartoid artery. Blood spurting like a fountain from its neck, the goblin spins and tries to run, tangling up the goblins behind. Three more times my swords strike and, three more goblins fall to the ground, their brains spilling form the rents in their skulls.
Goblins are vicious, sadistic, hateful, vengeful, conniving, tribal beasts, but first and foremost, goblins are cowards. Seeing six of their brethren dead in as many seconds, the charging goblins turn to flee.
“Run!”
“Monster!”
“Demon!”
As the goblins bite, claw and scratch at one another, trying to be first to escape into the exit tunnel, I tear into their backs. Seventeen more fall dead, before the rest manage scramble down the tunnel. The only things left are goblin corpses, blue blood and the reek of goblin shit.
Urehara-sensei is unconscious. Sweating, twitching and moaning in his sleep, he is as pale as a ghost. If I am right, and The Nameless has inserted his character's memories into his mind, he is have a hard time with them. Dragging Urehara-sensei away from the alcove, I leave him by a wall away from both the alcove and the tunnel.
This is the Four Bones Goblin Lair. I did not recognize it at first, but now I am certain. I farmed it once, early on when I played Taereun. Factoring in my time playing Taereun as a game and my time in the Lands of Despair, it would have been more than thirty years ago. No wonder I could not remember it, I have over fifty subjective years of memories, most of my memories of my early days in Taereun have become dim, just like most of my childhood memories.
Searching the goblins, I empty their belt pouches. Every one of them has a handful of uncut gemstones. These gems are the main reason that players used to farm someplace as out of the way as this lair.
Including this room, there are four “throne rooms” like this scattered in these caves. Each throne room, has an idol, like the one in the alcove. The players used to call them the spawn idols,, since the goblins would “spawn” around the idols. but apparently, they are terminus points, connected to gates outside of the Labyrinth of Yggr.
This is a tiny zone, and without an external supply of goblins, its population would have been entirely wiped out early on. There are another sixteen or seventeen zones like this that I have encountered. On the other hand, most of the zones in the Labyrinth are much larger, and there is no apparent external supply of inhabitants. Knowing that this is really not a game, I wonder what the purpose of these small zones with the gate termini are?
I sit near Urehara-sensei, in the lotus position, and enter a light trance. My ki mixes with the psi, which feels like barely more than a trace amount, in my mind. Flowing outward, my awareness fills an area nearly seventy yards in diameter. Unless it is shielded against psi, nothing can enter this circle without my being aware of it.
“What is that horrid stench?”
It has been less than half an hour, but it is not a moment too soon. The goblins are starting to gather in the tunnel. They are not close enough for me to sense them, but I can hear them shuffling around and cursing at each other.
“Goblin shit.”
“Is this a goblin latrine?”
“No. If it was, you would be projectile vomiting. This doesn't even come close to the reek of a goblin latrine.”
“You sound like you have smelled one before.”
“Unfortunately.” I cannot help but laugh. “What happened to you, Sensei?”
Urehara-sensei frowns. “Enough with the Sensei, Mark. Urehara Ryouske is no more. I am Jinmu, and Jinmu is not your sensei.”
I nod, with a slight smile. “Okay, Jinmu. From now on, call me Brand. Mark McGuinness and Talon are both dead. Brand is a good enough name for me.”
Jinmu frowns. “That Nameless God called you that, right before he disappeared. How did he know?”
“I don't know. Did he give you the memories of your character?”
Jinmu has a startled expression on his face. “How did you know?”
“After the Great Fuck Over, we all went through what you did, but your experience looked mild compared to ours.”
“I do not know what it was like for you, but for me it felt like someone was drilling a hole in my skull. Other than that, it was disorienting, trying to come to terms with two sets of memories.”
“Sounds a lot easier than what I went through.”
Jinmu looks around the room. “You have been busy.”
“Not really, but we better get a move on. The survivors are getting ready to try again.”
Jinmu smiles ironically. “Do you have any idea where we are?”
“I know almost exactly where are. Four Bones Goblin Lair, but I'm not sure which of the sub-chiefs' caves this is, not that I matters. Goblins are trash, we'll just kill our way out.”
Jinmu draws his katana. “I like the sound of that.”