CH871

“You know, now that I can see what you’re about to do, it’s somehow an even worse idea than I was expecting,” Thera sighed. “I wonder why I can’t fix whatever’s wrong in your head to make you like this.”

“Alright, kind of hurtful.”

“Yeah? And if things go as wrong as you’re expecting but I’m not able to cut off your arm in time, how bad do you think it will get?”

“…I mean, I still have absolute confidence that you’ll be able to handle things.”

“Sure, I’m just going to have to either cut off even more of your limbs or break a bunch of your bones. Just do it already before I change my mind about this.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Wasting no time, as he stood among the branches that filled his greenhouse, Ben held tight the crystal in his hand and the souls it contained before connecting to them, forging a link and pulling them both within his mind.

Trapped since his death, the god Quox waited, aware enough to swear he’d have both his freedom and revenge.

Revenge against the gods of that world who’d spent centuries mistreating him, allowing him to starve all for the crime of saving himself. Revenge against Anailia, the conniving bitch who’d lied to him to strengthen one of her believers, and most important of all, revenge against the mortal who’d killed him, the little whelp who’d done it with such glee, all for whatever strength he could claim for himself.

For all of that and then whatever they’d been doing to him since. He could feel it, his divine shape being forced to change, bent and contorted to fill a vessel unnatural to him. How he didn’t outright kill the thing he was being put in he didn’t know and the few senses it held were weak but one thing he was aware of was the plucking. Like having scales ripped out one by one, only in a duller, more muted way but as the biggest sense of stimuli he had, not knowing when it would come made it all the more detestable. He was a god, as high as an existence could be and no matter what he’d done, he would not stand for the treatment he’d received.

“Rraaewa,” Came a groan of the monster beside him, his sole companion that he was all the worse for having as the demon at his side continued to make noise, with everything he’d been through shared by that same beast.

Both of them were dead, two souls trapped together for eternity until something could free them, with the question of what that would mean not something that could be escaped when Quox didn’t truly understand his state.

When a god was killed while descended onto a mortal then that was the end of them but their souls were meant to depart the mortal plane when it happened, disappearing like any other. His though had not, left trapped and contained and providing just the slimmest amount of hope.

What was a god if not a soul? Sure, they had shape and form beyond the ethereal but that was something they’d grow into themselves with time. In essence, they were spiritual beings and with that fact came hope. He hadn’t passed on, he’d in essence been ripped from the body that held him which came with the chance that if he could only get out, he’d be able to ascend to his proper place once more.

An ascension that would leave him surrounded on all sides by enemies but that was a different matter. As long as he could sneak off then he would live and even if escaping would mean he wouldn’t get to carry out revenge himself, he could at least take comfort in the fact that all he hated would still be doomed.

“Wow, it’s cute you can still feel so much hate and hope,” A familiar voice spoke around him, putting him on edge as the first thing beyond the demon he’d heard in years. “I wonder if you’ll still be able to feel so big after this?”

The empty existence around Quox changed, resolving itself into a vast space reminiscent of a barren realm, letting him perceive himself and the demon but more importantly, the one other, the sight telling him whose voice he’d heard as he growled out.

“You.”

“Me,” Ben grinned back. “Been a while, Quox. I guess I never saw what you originally looked like but you’re definitely worse for wear.”

He could see in the god’s memories how he thought he should appear but it seemed the time trapped within a plant had changed him in unexpected ways. Both the god and demon had created constructs within the mindscape he’d created but they were gaunt, a thinness not of starvation but instead looking stretched out. Small branches poked through their skin with the buds of leaves too and both had a small, green tint that came naturally to neither, enough to make him wonder if enough years trapped in a tree would turn any deity into a nature god.

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Something to experiment on in the future. He told himself. For now, let’s see what will come of this.

He had more to say too but didn’t get the chance. As soon as he’d spoken the god lunged, reaching out to Ben in hate and rage to strike him with all of the strength he held, only for his clawed hand to be stopped on contact, powerless to do anything.

“Huh, so this is the god of growth and gain? Powerless to do anything against the mortal that killed you,” Ben taunted, getting the reaction he wanted as the god rampaged in his fury, trying to kill the mortal before him with all of the power he held but consistently failing, no strike so much as making Ben take a step back, let alone cause any true harm.

“Now, you may be an evil fuck who’s greatest feat is being so dumb as to accidentally help doom the galaxy even more than it already was but you’re also in luck,” Ben said through the blows. “You want your freedom? Well now’s your chance.”

It was enough to put a pause to the mad deity, freezing him mid-attack. “What?”