Chapter 1887

Chapter 1887

Despite his confident words to Wick, Randidly felt vaguely numb and tingling in this mental form. Whatever image the Commandant forcefully injected into him lingered even now, despite both Aether and Nether lashing out at the remnants.

In addition, some part of Randidly was deeply fascinated by the surroundings; his attention got tugged in every direction. All that he was, drawn-out around him a glittering, magical wonderland. His accomplishments became complex skyscrapers of energy and design. Of course, the small joy of examining himself quickly was smothered by the rather pressing issue of Wick.

Even with most of his emotional force lost by that pressure release, Wick still roared and barreled forward. The copper bottom had wheels and a large cage that covered a large, fleshy core area. Two massive and lidless eyes sat at the front of the fleshy portion, pressed right up against the copper frame. Strange pistons pumped between the biological mechanism and the metal, but those seemed mostly added detail. What mattered was the shuddering core of the train car-like amalgamation.

When the form of Wick met the form of Randidly Ghosthound in this place, they would grapple with each other directly. Looking at the train car accelerating toward him, Randidly didn’t think it could be avoided; the other presences had some power because they were literally inside of his body, but they were limited by the fact they weren’t actually him.

The true mental blows had to be struck by himself.

So the gathered Patrons and individuals from his Pantheon released blasts of their individual images that streaked and screamed across the intervening distance like fireworks. They tore holes in Wick’s vulnerable flesh engine and left him ragged. Yet their lights immediately dimmed and Wick continued forward, leaking a chunky and ooze-like version of blood onto the rippling black lake.

At the very least, Randidly thought, still somewhat lightheaded as he glanced down. The ooze sizzled and disintegrated as it touched the surface of the lake. Nether can safely rid my subconscious of that shit. As for Wick himself-

Next came Kharon, for the first time the Eidolon Crucible becoming a defensive force in Randidly’s body. It rushed forward to meet Wick, shrinking as it approached until all of the burning loyalty and bright spirits of Kharon condensed into a body the size of a minivan. This regal and brave image consciousness slammed directly into Wick’s sagging train engine without hesitation, ignoring the difference in potency between them.

Well, they probably don’t realize even I’m lacking compared to Wick.

Congratulations! Your Skill Reign of the Eidolon Crucible (L) has grown to Level 523!

Randidly winced in sympathy. The impact had enough force that the lake below carried a massive ripple out in every direction. Kharon skidded to a stop as a good third of the consciousnesses that composed it were dispersed. Most were probably knocked directly unconscious from the collision. Wick slowed its speed, but then began to drill his way through. The people of Kharon struggled, but they were simply overmatched, for the same reason that Randidly had been able to overwhelm them in the last conflict.

...

Congratulations! Your Skill Reign of the Eidolon Crucible (L) has grown to Level 562!

That’s enough, Randidly dispersed them before the population of Kharon hurt themselves further. The ‘lungs’ of the current Wick form, massive leathery bags contained within an especially tight copper mesh toward the back of the engine, inflated and deflated rapidly. Emotional force still leaked out from the left one. Yet Wick labored and skirted across the last few meters between them. Wick’s image form neared the point of breaking down.

The tingling was fading. Randidly sucked in a metaphorical breath and stirred his Nether.

But before he needed to engage directly, his images and one Authority lashed out at this rattling machine that seemed one solid hit away from collapsing. Yggdrasil unleashed the brilliant light of genesis, ripping the tear in Wick’s side even larger. The Stillborn Phoenix howled and manifested its most imperative devouring, warping the metal front of the engine into a twisted and crumpled ball, like discarded aluminum foil. The Grey Creature crashed itself directly against that front, reaching through with its sharp fingered right hand and shredding one of Wick’s large and unblinking eyes.

Then Nidhogg swam up from below and Seized the sight in the second eye. The pupil and iris vanished, leaving the blank white of the sclera. Wick roared again but didn’t waver. And somehow Randidly knew that he wouldn’t be able to dodge.

Wick’s image form coasted those last few meters, bleeding curry-colored clotted blood and more of its emotional force every second. It was a ragged and weakened being that Randidly needed to face. At this point, there were occasional flashes of other images in the space above the train engine, as though each was about to split from Wick’s body without Devick’s binding. Yet even now, Randidly didn’t dare underestimate Wick.

Either way, significance whooshed through Randidly’s Nether Core, strengthening it. In that way, it was clear that Wick succeeded at least partially; some portion of Wick became a part of Randidly. But Randidly had a feeling that he got the better end of the deal.

Heat and toil, they warped time until the struggle seemed an eternity. His confusion grew. And strangely, Randidly found the sensation oddly reassuring; it reminded him of using the Visage of Obsession.

In those unconscious moments, he stopped wondering what was happening. He simply threw himself into the work. Wicks attacks were steadily repulsed.

Abruptly, Randidly was free. The jelly form of Wick sloughed off him, dropping and curling like dead snakeskin. Weak and scorched by Nether, the whole of Wick collapsed onto the ground. Little bits of him remained around, twitching.

The mental connection vanished. Even in the subconscious, contact was broken. Randidly found himself standing before the sagging and melting remnants of that train engine. Blank white circles were pointed right at him, but they resemble tiny plates more than eyes. After surreptitiously prodding it to see if it yet lived, the Unborn began to nibble on the remaining fleshy bits.

Congratulations! Your Skill Twin Lingering Shadows of Misfortune (T) has grown to Level 924!

Then they were back in that demolished courtroom. Randidly looked up at Wick's hairy and blank face before the Commandant collapsed backward onto his ass. Randidly stood quickly and then cursed himself as he swayed. His head was still light. He coughed up and spat out a glob of discolored blood.

“You...” Wick’s voice wheezed out. He appeared to have regained some clarity because he managed a glare at Randidly. “Fuck... you.”

A last and fitting expression of Wick’s disdain for Randidly.

For a split second, something ugly rose in Randidly’s heart. He felt anticipation and relish for the moment where he paid back this sadistic piece of shit for every iota of pain he had inflicted on Helen. He would lay him open and then thoroughly eviscerate the shattered remnants of his image, feeding the scattered and rotting chunks to the Unborn before Wick’s eyes. Then he would break his bones, rip out his veins, and weave a tapestry from his flayed organs. For what he did to Helen, Wick would feel regret.

Yet the experience quickly turned sour as he ran through his planned vengeance. His dominant emotion was black and suffocating, a constriction sensation of being short on oxygen after a long run. Yet panic drove him to move, even weak as he was. His hands rose almost unbidden, leveling Acri at Wick’s chest even through the lightheadedness.

Randidly swayed. Pawing like a child in the dark, he sorted his way through his own emotions.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done to lower his spear. The black panic of rage and confusion squeezed his heart. The desire for vengeance pounded through him, near deafening. Randidly sucked in a breath. It would have been easy to blame Wick for this strange emotional affliction, label it as some lingering remnant of the other that was lodged inside of jelly-Randidly.

But even if that was partially true, it wasn’t the whole truth.

“We actually aren’t so different,” Randidly whispered. He ached to say those words; that was the seed that had grown that black emotion. And bringing it to light forced the cloying hatred to wither. “We were both... shaped purposefully by callous and selfish individuals. We both so desperately want power. We ended up relying on those twisted benefactors to grow. The real difference... is the choices we’ve made since then.”

Yet maybe that’s not fair to you. Randidly couldn’t say that thought out loud. Maybe the real difference was the environment.

Randidly pressed his eyes shut and tried to steady himself. He felt so exhausted. He felt like he would fail Helen by not slaughtering Wick with just as much prejudice as he had shown for her. But Randidly found himself intending to let Wick live. Which, in its own way, was a twisted revenge. Because even now, he could feel those other images lurking beneath his skin, beginning to move and morph. The weakened Wick would likely spend a lot of time tortured by his demons before he left this life.

It was hard not to enjoy that thought. But also, he tried not to let himself dwell on it.