279, 2/2

Erick stepped down onto volcanic glass. The edges of the caldera were obsidian knife edges ripping at mist.

“Hello everyone, all Relevant Entities of the Script,” Erick said, Calling out to everyone listening. “I’d like to speak about some things happening on Fenrir right now, and in the near future. It’s time to air some grievances, and I’m going first.”

Rozeta, Phagar, Koyabez, and Melemizargo appeared, along with Atunir and her Champion Yetta, Champion Nirzir next to Phagar, and then Champion Fallopolis by Melemziargo. The other Relevant Entities stayed in the mist, seeming scared by Erick’s declarations.

That told Erick a lot. Why were they scared?

Erick wasn’t sure, but everyone here seemed wary, like they were expecting Erick to pull some shit… or something.

And then Fairy Moon and Shadow appeared, looking grim. Worried. Even more worried than everyone else.

Yeah. It had been time to have this conversation, before anything bad actually happened.

Erick said, “I am sure you all have seen some questionable actions on my part. I will not be accepting criticism at this time. I will, however, be giving criticisms, and yes, that seems unfair, but hear me out.

“I have heard some disturbing things. I have seen some questionable actions.

“I feel that I am the only one truly invested in this coalition right now, because every time any one of you looks at me I can tell you are somehow frightened. I will not go into details, because to nitpick is to pull apart the weave that holds us all together.

“We all want different things, but we also all want the same thing.

“We have all seen information out there that has twisted what we thought was real and revealed secrets we thought hidden.

“I’m here to say that literally none of that stuff matters, and we should institute a Forgotten Campaign against all of it, and against Nothanganathor, too.” Erick said, “History must be remembered, but it must also be worked through in times of peace, and we are not in a time of peace at all, and any of us listening to Nothanganathor at all is just poisoning the chances we have of pulling this off. Nothanganathor started off as an anti-meme to all of us, and we must return him to that.

“He should be recorded in side-ways, and never directly. His own words should not be allowed to exist and spread. We will know of him, but no one else will.

“He should be spoken about in the past tense, and in how we can make sure it never happens again.

“The ability for something to affect our unity should be reserved for those who desire to belong, or for those who we bring into compliance. Nothanganathor is none of that. We will ensure he has nothing, and especially not the ability to divide us and affect us at all. He is nothing, and he will have nothing.” Erick finished with, “That is why I say I will not be accepting criticisms, and why I only gave out the barest criticisms myself.”

The faces of the gods were careful things, but they all relaxed, as far as Erick could tell. Melemizargo looked quietly smug. Shadow and Fairy Moon were unsure… but they decided to believe.

Shadow waved a dismissive hand, saying, “I didn’t hear anything that needed to be spread.”

Fairy Moon added, “I wish a return to conversations of bountiful conclusions at your convenience, Rozeta.”

Rozeta looked at Fairy Moon and nodded. “We’ll speak more later.” She said to Erick, “I want my son cured, Erick, and soon… But beyond that grievance… We can’t actually Forget him.”

“We certainly don’t have to listen to him either, Rozeta,” Melemizargo said, “No matter how many Truths he speaks.”

Every single person here had been exposed to the Red and to Nothanganathor’s lies. Every single one of them had had their own horrors shown to them, in order to twist them. Like at that fungal Last Good Continent, Nothanganathor had seeded the very air to be destructive, while the faces of the people and the natures of the societies had been crafted to draw the gods and powers of Veird in, and then twist them while they were there.

Like with that Necromancer of Death’s; the gods had been forced to confront evils they had thought long dead, which injured them in their reprisal.

Like with the trauma that Quilatalap felt he had needed to simply erase from himself, and thus become someone he was not, everything here had been a trap.

Ten million traps might not kill a god, but they still left scars. They still sensitized.

In order to heal that hurt, and move on, Erick said, “I would like to speak of two things, and the first need not be talked about right now, while the second is more important for moving forward.

“First, I would like to discuss what a Forgotten Campaign would look like against Nothanganathor, for I feel that is one of the best ways to End this threat forever more. We can all think on that for a little while.

“Secondly, let us speak of Cascadio. I told everyone here that I was inviting him if I saw an opportunity, and I saw an opportunity, and he has been incredibly helpful in empowering the Valkyries to clear away the threats out there. He is a good guy, and yes, he’s a fractal god, but most gods in this universe are fractal gods.”

Melemizargo spoke first, “You keep speaking of him as a person, Erick, but he is not a person. He is a collective delusion. I understand how rich that is coming from me, when I used to say that about everyone here, but I can safely say that I was confused back then. I had mixed up some facts about the Pantheon, with their Dark-given Mantles, and the gods of the Fractal, and their similar-yet-different power. The fact that the Pantheon couldn’t even see Malevolence is what made me so crazy back then. Cascadio can’t see Malevolence, Erick, not if Malevolence doesn’t want to be seen.”

“Ah,” Erick said, looking around the caldera, at all the concerned faces, and at a few faces that were just now getting concerned. Demon King Dinnamoth was unaware that Cascadio couldn’t even see Malevolence. He made the connections between Melemizargo’s words and unsaid concerns just as fast as Erick, though. Erick said, “You’re all worried that he can’t see the Red in the sun and it is affecting him or his people.”

Rozeta said, “That is just one possible interpretation, though that is the main avenue through which we expect him to be turned into a weapon against us.”

Erick had what felt like a brilliant idea, so he asked, “Then how about we help him and help ourselves by attempting a ritual to help him help everyone who worships him? It would be a good way to strike out against Malevolence out there in the universe, and here on Fenrir. We’ve done a lot to clean up the space, but we can always make it better. Stronger.

“In fact, that might be one of the best exports of this land. Large rituals to grant favorable outcomes to the rest of the universe. Maybe through something Benevolence aligned? I still need to help out against corruption out there in the rest of the universe after we win this war, and this seems like a good way to do all of that at once.

“We could do a great many things to assist all the rest of this universe, and thus gain power for ourselves in turn.” Erick said, “We can even pick and choose the societies we wish to raise up, and the gods that sit upon those societies. When we can open the path back into the Dark, we can do so knowing we have allies everywhere out there.”

The room was stunned to silence.

Melemizargo grinned.

Erick said, “Anyway! War with Nothanganathor first. We’ll be ripping him out of everywhere. How should we best proceed?”

Fairy Moon spoke up, “We must make managed words, good Wizard Flatt, outside of outside observers, before you beckon the Ending of this Epic.”

Erick said, “That sounds fine to me. Nothanganathor’s shit doesn’t need to be spread around at all, but I can see the value in smaller discussions. Anyone wish to join us for a smaller talk?”

– – – –

On an illuminated moonsun hanging somewhere far away from Veird, Erick appeared amid the light pointed away from Fenrir. This particular moonsun was on top of a column of moonsuns, each of them glowing brightly, each of them made of white eternal stonewood towers and layers of land and ocean with waterfalls and life everywhere. Mostly light slimes. They drifted through the air like jellyfish, crowding out the sky and the land in flowing rivers of illumination. Beyond those slimes was the star-filled sky. For a normal person, that sky would be blocked by too much light, but Erick could see it just fine.

It was quite beautiful.

With an easy cast, Erick [Eternal Stonewood Shape]d a few of the nearby towers into a large platform, fit enough for a few tens of people.

Fairy Moon stepped out of swirling pink/green/white Springtime, and where she touched exploded with greenery and flowers. She was dressed normally, in her pink/green/white sundress and corset, her eyes a heterochromatic neon pink and nuclear green.

Shadow stepped out beside Fairy Moon, and the world was a little dimmer. The stars appeared in the sky, and the shadows deepened all around. She wore her Benevolent Dark Queen outfit, but trimmed down for more personal settings, with less ornamentation than usual.

Melemizargo lifted his draconic head on the side of the platform, casting the world into an illuminated sort of darkness. The light and the slimes were still there, shining like sunlight, but now there were shadows and dark, and even a normal person could have been able to see the land all around them. It had been too blinding before. A normal person might even appreciate this land in a blacklight-rave sort of setting, with radioactive-like mushrooms popping up here and there with floors and walls that glowed white. Melemizargo shrunk down, but not much. He hung on the side of the platform, floating lazily like he was swimming in water.

Erick smiled, and said, “It all looks a lot prettier when a whole bunch of different people gather here, bringing with them different ideas of what reality should be.”

None of his present company were appreciative of Erick’s call to pleasantries.

Shadow said, “I wish to air the first grievance: You will never love me, Erick.”

“Never is a long time, so I doubt that assertion very much,” Erick easily and instantly replied.

A moment passed.

And then Shadow looked mollified. Her greyish features pinkened a little. “Oh. Well. Of course. Obviously nothing will happen between us right now. Obviously. I drop my grievance.”

Erick nodded. “Who’s next?”

Fairy Moon asked, “Would you prevent us from purposing our population of people into the declaration of the New Dark?”

“Nope. Not at all.” Erick said, “I don’t want to know why you feel I would want to stop that.”

Fairy Moon nodded with understanding.

Melemizargo stared, asking a hard question, “Do you have designs upon my Mantle, Erick?”

“No.”

Melemizargo breathed, and then said, “Not a good enough answer.”

Erick frowned a little. “I don’t want to be a god. I want to be me. I believe my track history has made that clear.”

“You could be both. I am both, all the time. You could easily live a life, and then return to your past and deal with all your godly duties. Or you could elevate Shades to power to do all of your duties for you. You might not be a physical god in this new world you are trying to create, but when you speak of us working together to sell ritual services to phantom gods and gain power across an entire universe, you are speaking as though you are already a god.” Melemizargo looked at him. “Which you almost already are.” Melemizargo allowed no reply. He continued, “Are you aware that your woman, Teressa, is trying to contact the Dark and make inroads on your behalf? Or that Poi is trying to become an avatar of you, to help you deal with everything coming down the road? Or that Shivraa is a spiritual leader, and the Valkyries could easily raise you to godhood with a simple request from you?

“Are you aware that people are worshiping you as though you are me?”

Erick had known some of that.

He had not known that Melemizargo was much more than concerned. He was verging on fury.

Erick discarded his initial reaction to be mad that Melemizargo was thinking like this at all. Erick started tackling Melemizargo’s points, saying, “I have heard that Teressa is trying to contact the Dark through her Mark, through her Personal Script, but I have not heard her make any progress on that. She intends to ask the Dark to not let Nothanganathor win. This seems normal to me. If this is unacceptable, then please let me know. I had no idea this was unacceptable.

“Poi is trying to find himself, as far as I understand, through collective cultivation. His goal is to become an Ascendant Mind, through himself from all side realities. He is going to discard his body soon. I worry for him, because bodies seem important, but it is what he wants and I am supporting him in that.

“Shivraa does worship me, but in an idolized sort of way. I don’t believe it is true worship. Is a call to community the same as worship? Or do I misunderstand Shivraa?

“I was aware that some people are confusing you for me, but I have never facilitated this belief—”

“You aren’t doing enough to stop that belief, either,” Melemizargo said, way too strongly.

Ah.

Erick saw it now.

Melemizargo was starting to spiral.

Erick had assumed that Melemizargo had made peace with his death, for that is how it appeared the last time they spoke.

The dragon had not made peace with his death at all. He had been hiding his existential terror. He was worried, terrified, furious, and then back to worried, for he was not able to do a damned thing to stop himself from feeling those things. He had no power—

Oh.

Shit.

He was probably losing power, too, wasn’t he.

Nothanganathor had thrown off his Curse of Obscurity, according to him. He had become True Wizard, and then fae, and now he was waiting to be assigned God of Magic by the Dark. Just that; ‘waiting’. Not even actively pursuing power. His star was on the rise.

Melemizargo’s star had to be fading.

Melemizargo had finally come out of the trap, of the cage that Nothanganathor had made for him out of Veird, in the Sundering, but now the trap had become a death bed.

Erick asked, “What do you want me to do about it?”

Melemizargo said, “You fight him, now. If we fail, then we try again. No more preparation. No politicking with the Red reflections of your people of Veird. No determination of right and wrong, and threading needles and designing compromises between morality and necessity.

“We go.

“We kill.

“And then you fix what comes next so it doesn’t happen that way.”

Erick had no fucking clue how to make Melemizargo’s demand a reality, but he felt his Dark Mark sing to him and his Lightning Path tell him something very important. He chose not to speak about the making of universes from living sacrifices, as they had done to The Prince, and also the Goddess of Knowledge at the start of the Script, and instead said, “Then [Witness] a war for the fate of it all, Dark God of Magic.”

– – – –

All of Veird was a veined mass of power that collected in certain ways, and one of those ways was known as the Heart of Melemizargo, or the Well of Darkness.

Just like how Elemental Exalted and Vile collected into places that then collected the souls of angels and demons, thus making a heaven for those creatures, Darkness gathered inside the hearts of every Marked person on the planet, and in the universe. That power flowed where it could. And when it could, it flowed here.

Erick stood with Fallopolis at the turning of a corner, in a dungeon underneath Ascendant Mountain. There used to be lots of dungeons in this land, back when it was a place for shadelings to live and for outsiders to challenge, to prove themselves. It had all been destroyed by a Red Leviathan attack when Erick had been at Margleknot, but Erick had restored the main part of the mountain when he came back. The main part now housed this dungeon, and the Heart of Melemizargo within this dungeon.

There was nothing else.

An entrance held in the shadows and gloom behind them, while underfoot stood the white stone rim of a pool 30 meters across. Within that pool rested Absolute Black. It hurt to look upon. The Black called to Erick, in ways that he hadn’t been called in a long time, and in ways he easily recognized.

Once upon a time, Erick had fallen in that pool and he did not die. He merely moved across the world, to where he needed to be.

The Dark knew where Erick had to go right now.

Nothanganathor hid on some other sun, in some other slice of infinity near this place, biding his time until he Ascended to Dark Godhood, without lifting another claw to actually make it happen. It would be nearly impossible to find him, and it would be trivial for him to escape somewhere else, but the Dark knew where he was. The Dark could take him there, and ensure he arrived at the right time to kill the Red Bastard.

Like a time long ago, Champion of the Dark Fallopolis would be his guide.

Fallopolis stood, her frizzy white hair pulled into a tight bun, her grandmotherly body bedecked in a sparkly black suit, while her black kendrithyst staff floated to her side. She looked ready.

Erick was mostly ready. When they reached Nothanganathor, he would pull his Valkyries to the battlefield, and then the real war would begin.

Everyone else would remain here, on Veird and Fenrir, securing the land against danger.

Erick stared at the Absolute Black of the Well of Darkness and took a moment to truly consider what it meant to step through that portal.

“It’s almost better this way,” Erick said. “No need to endanger everyone, and they need to be back on Veird for the counterattack.”

Fallopolis said, “When you win, you can come back through time and fix whatever he does in retaliation.”

Erick grinned. “You ready to give it your all, too, Fallopolis?”

“I am, and I might even take up my real name after this, but I am unsure.”

Erick smiled softly at that. “Ar’Kendrithyst fell a long time ago.”

Fallopolis shook her head lightly. She did not agree. “It took me a while to understand why I never picked my old name back up, but now I know. It was more than the fact that I lived and breathed that place for centuries. The truest fact is we’ve never left Ar’Kendrithyst. Physically, yes, but not spiritually. There are always horrors that seek to destroy, dangers in the Dark, tests of power and tests of resolve. Quilatalap exemplified and codified that nature of the Dark, of the true purpose behind Ar’Kendrithyst at his Armory. He still does that to this day with his dungeons.

“But Ar’Kendrithyst was larger than the Armory. It was larger than the dungeons. Those are just the organized places. The Shade-filled insanity horror of Ar’Kendrithyst is the true danger. Ar’Kendrithyst was a crucible, and crucibles still exist everywhere. We can explore, we can learn, and we try to leave, but we can never really leave that Dead City, filled with tests both mundane and magnificent. Dead, wrong-headed metropolises still exist everywhere. They will always continue to exist. They will grow brilliant and wonderful at first, or maybe they start off horrible. Some will turn malignant.

“And so, sometimes those metropolises must fall.”

Fallopolis thumped the end of her kendrithyst staff against the white stone ground. The air cracked. A ripple passed through the Absolute Black of the Heart of Melemizargo, and then the ripple rebounded.

The air gonged.

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Fallopolis raised her voice high, casting her power deep, “We see our true enemies! The city that they are trying to build out of corpses that don’t belong to them! The wrongness that they are seeking to expand!” Her voice expanded, and the world focused. “We know the architect of it all! Of the cause of the Insanity of My God! Of the cause of the Twisting of the Clergy! Of the creator of the Sundering!” She raised her kendrithyst staff high above the white rim of the Well of Darkness. “We see you now, Nothanganathor!”

And then she smashed her kendrithyst staff down.

The white Well broke like the shattering of magic, releasing the Absolute Black inside like an explosion of ink underwater.

Erick fell through tearing, ripping Darkness, and Fallopolis fell beside him. Erick grabbed onto her hand, and Fallopolis howled with laughter as the world became a tunnel. Suddenly, Erick was a dragon again and Fallopolis was a thing of Black, with eyes and mouths and focus extraordinary, shaped like a gibbering demon and person all at the same time. She pointed with ten million fingers, claws, fangs, and eyes, into the Dark.

The world flexed—

– – – –

— Erick dropped out of a tangle of black that became Fallopolis and then pulled away, injured heavily. Erick became his full size and Fallopolis shrunk down to her normal body, exhausted and broken, which made sense considering what they had dropped into.

The void around them was a thing of cutting, burning Malevolence, and Fallopolis had just broken through all of it to bring them here. Nothanganathor had indeed left traps for people to fall into, if they ventured his way, and Fallopolis had broken through many of them, injuring her in ways that Erick wasn’t quite prepared to heal. But Fallopolis was a Champion. She just needed some time.

Erick wrapped her in a protective [Hasted Shelter] that she could break if she wanted, but it would be enough to let her recover. And then Erick stepped sideways in time, divorcing himself from the normal flow, taking it all in as fast as he could, because something was already starting to drag him back to normal time. The traps all around him were myriad in their layers.

He and Fallopolis had popped out of the breaking of the Well of Darkness by a big blackened world, maybe a moon’s distance away. It was blackened by the scorching of the Red Sun in the distance.

All of Reality was a wash of Red and Void, spiraling out from a caustically brilliant Red Sun. There was a body on that sun. Nothanganathor’s body. Like a black noodle floating in a nuclear-red hot sauce, or a tapeworm in blood, Nothanganathor’s body coiled this way and that upon the sun.

It had been chunked.

The head was half gone; the lower jaw was still attached to the skull, but the upper jaw and most of the skull was opened and smashed upon the sun’s surface. Several hundred world-lengths down from the head the body just stopped, for something had eaten the body. The body resumed beyond that, but it was broken into many different pieces.

Something was eating it.

Someone was eating it.

Erick saw who was eating it, there, at the third break in the length of the body.

There was a white, snake-like dragon down there, gorging on the body. Red Lightning flashed out of the white worm, burning away the big corpse, turning that big corpse into power that flowed into the white worm’s open maw.

The white worm was Nothanganathor, looking sleek and whole, and not like his larger corpse at all. He was, perhaps, a few worlds long. Hard to say from this distance.

Erick realized a few things as he looked at Nothanganathor.

The Erased One was still shaped like a leviathan, but he had a crown of 6 horns now, just like Melemizargo, just like Erick. He looked more like Rozeta or the dragons of Veird than any leviathan. He had scales now; not just skin.

So he had broken his Curse of Obscurity, then. That had been true.

And yet, he was still eating his corpse.

He hadn’t finished his transition to fae yet, had he? Had he even truly begun?

Erick felt joy at recognizing that Truth. Erick’s own transition had started with him eating his Benevolence-crafted space ship, Worldsaver, and then waking up in the past, in 1997, and then solidifying the Truth of his time on Earth over the course of the next 23 years. Nothanganathor’s transition somehow had him eating the corpse of his old body. In a way, both of them had eaten their own history, but Nothanganathor hadn’t gotten through the first part of all that. He hadn’t eaten all of himself yet, because of course he hadn’t eaten all of himself. He probably had too much to eat!

Ha!

The lying bastard wasn’t a fae yet.

Erick cupped his wings and raised his elated voice, calling out with a blast of light that shredded the Red violence in the air all around him, “Liar liar LIFE on FIRE!”