The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Randidly dreamed about those doors to his locked away emotion. The starting point was the same as always, within the room he had lived in as a child. Sighing, he tried to push himself up out of the plush and bobbing surface of his bed, but instantly the whole dream around him began to tremble.

His expression soured as he felt the extent of the strain that afflicted him. Yet even more than his empty internal space, the dream around him began to suffer. Nether ran through the whole construction, creating the fabric of the inner world.

Yet right now, Randidly felt a deep Nether exhaustion like he had never felt, not since he had first created his Nether Core. Gradually, he reconstructed the situation as best he could. After he had managed to activate his three images with a unified emotional affect and sunder the Silver Flame Hell, Fiona had stepped into a very emotional space, kissing Duulys on the battlefield. The man’s guard had instantly dropped. With that opening, she had activated her Ascension Pact Tattoo and ripped out all her deep connections that man as well as huge chunks of his image. She had taken all of the Nether that Randidly had spare, which hadn’t been much, to dig as deeply into Duulys as she could.

The Stillborn Phoenix hummed pleasantly, very pleased with the meal it had been given.

Sighing, Randidly leaned back in the dream bed and closed his eyes. He felt a small thrill of success at how his images had activated in a new image physicalization form, but he was currently more concerned with his empty Nether tanks. Fiona’s desire for revenge harmonized very well with the ability. But even if she succeeded in wounding Duulys, there’s no way that Fiona isn’t just as deeply injured by the process. I hope-

As Randidly’s thoughts began to stir with more intensity, the dream trembled again, barely holding itself together. Clicking his tongue, he forced himself to relax. I get it, I get it, I need a rest. Let’s let myself recover-

An even more dangerous tremor erupted, splitting open the ceiling of his childhood bedroom and revealing a raging torrent of dark emotions. What little shallow layer of Nether remained was ripped away. Randidly blinked to have the veil pulled briefly away; he looked up into the swirling animosity that he had long housed within himself, almost unable to acknowledge that this was his inner world.

Yet that darkness looked back at him and sneered at his disbelief. The mouth of the storm stretched wide and a long tongue began to unwind, stretching out to grasp through the sudden hole in the roof. The fact that it aimed for him was clear. In his weakened state, Randidly knew he couldn’t let that tongue connect itself to him.

He pressed his lips together. This swirling system of emotions was the side of himself he needed to master to take that last step toward power. Yet now, right after having all his Nether drained and with a pounding headache, he wouldn’t be able to handle the connection. It would overwhelm him.

That masked darkness oozed destructive impulses. His raw, primal, covetous side given a pulsing, monstrous form. All the suppressed hate, fear, shame, and other violent impulses had been closeted away here to mutant and form into this violent mass. The tongue drooped closer. The dream continued to shudder and stutter, struggling to reconstruct itself into the correct form.

The darkness leaned down against the torn dream, trying to widen the wound.

Yet looking at this approaching tongue, he began to suspect that it wasn’t just capriciousness that had caused Devick to bond onto him and treat him as her child. Even if he hadn’t done so, she still would have been positively disposed toward him.

The monster in each of their hearts probably resembled one another. This dark, shapeless thing was bound by wild currents and storms, just as hers was constricted by rusty chains.

Caustic saliva dripped off the apparition’s tongue, melting Randidly’s childhood dresser with raw emotion. It casually extended down through the torn roof. It extended further, now as thin as a finger, rolling outward toward his face.

After stuttering for a few strained seconds, the flow of Randidly’s Nether snapped back into place. The reality of the dream emphasized itself, rapid strands of meaning drawing themselves across the hole in the ceiling and then rapidly reeling themselves shut. The opening snapped shut like a trap, severing the tongue. The dream almost collapsed from the strain, but the defenses Randidly had subconsciously built to protect himself from this monster still had some teeth.

The black, prehensile protrusion fell down and thumped heavily against the ground. For a few seconds it flailed, ripping holes in the carpet and slicing one of the legs of his bed so it teetered and thumped down at an angle. But then the struggles ceased. With a glitter of light, a floating trading card formed in front of him.

Origin of Enmity’s Tongue

Groaning, Randidly rolled over and pressed his face into the fake pillow. His Nether wavered again, but not nearly as much as the first time. The dream around him flickered, but not enough for that poisonous black slime to reach toward him again.

I really just need a long rest. Everything feels blurry and stretched too far. But my main question… is someone utilizing my Nether- ah, perhaps the Ascension Squad. Hopefully… they can finish the fight without me…

Duulys was… such a hassle.

Randidly’s worries began to dissolve as he fell into a deep and restful sleep.

*****

The Earth Golem Emperor slammed his fist against the heavy table in the meeting room of the Pantheon. “We must throw them out immediately! Foreign intrusion into the Alpha Cosmos cannot be tolerated!”

An ancient Weaver, its physical form rubbed away at the edges by its age, clicked its mandibles at the childish display of its peer. As always, its forelegs remained in constant motion, recording the story of all the events that occurred as they happened in a tightly knitted web that is stored somewhere within the hidden areas controlled by the Pantheon. “Indeed, it is a travesty. However, I believe it more prudent for us to decide the punishment for the one who revealed the Alpha Cosmos so cavalierly.”

“T-that’s-” The Earth Golem Emperor frowned. Alta groaned and allowed her forehead to thump against the table. Steam wafted out of the overworked woman’s ears.

Lucretia raised a finger. “Ideally, we would pick these three up by the scruff of the neck and toss them out. Hell, in normal circumstances, it would be easy to do so. Yet currently Randidly is extremely weak; his Nether is thin and the energy in the Alpha Cosmos is chaotic because of it. Perhaps even more relevant, Randidly purposefully created very tight connections to these individuals. Only because of that could they find the door to the Alpha Cosmos in his body. So we just kick them out? Likely through brute force? It’s a short-sighted reaction.”

“Also, consider capability,” The Patron of the Abyss’s amorphous body pulsed with what Lucretia had come to recognize as unease. “Strong foes. Difficult ejection. Worsen the condition of the Alpha Cosmos.”

The Patron of Blades nodded in agreement. Alta groaned and rolled her head around a bit, as though trying to touch every bit of exposed skin on her face to the cool tabletop. Lucretia leaned back in her chair. “So for now, let’s wait. As far as I can tell, they are not running wild, just exploring.

“But at the same time…” Lucretia’s sharp eyes turned sideways. “This is the first time that someone in the Nexus has found out about the Alpha Cosmos. Because one of the Pantheon acted independently, with no thought of the consequences. So… I agree with the Great Weaver. I think it’s time we talked about punishments for this pompous idiot.”

The Earth Golem Emperor gulped.

But the real surprise was that Alta stopped her constantly fidgeting. She slowly lifted her head off the table, an intense look in her eyes. Suddenly, she looked at the stone man with newfound interest. “...actually, I have a thorny situation that could use some extra help. With problems like this relating to the Ghosthound, a little elbow grease goes a long way.”

While everyone else chuckled at the golem’s misfortune, Lucretia looked back at the scrying water and shrugged. “For now, let’s just hope they don’t cause too much trouble.”

*****

Officer Quincy Wright didn’t know why, but he began to sweat as soon as he saw the three figures talking animatedly in the middle of the manatech rail lines. He had already been having a shitty patrol even before he got the call; when Clarence got the nod for the promotion over him two days ago, it had been pretty much determined that he would spend his off day drinking and dwelling.

Even now, after guzzling a gallon of water and wolfing down overcooked eggs, his head throbbed near constantly. He hoped that the people of Zone 1 would just, for fucking once, not be utter fools.

He eased off the thruster in his jetpack, landing nearby to the source of the disturbance. Those three figures didn’t project any sort of images, yet somehow that only made their bold stance even more anxiety-inducing. Quincy hesitated, checking his wrist terminal. So far their presence hadn’t disrupted any of the timetables, but they needed to be out of the way in six minutes to avoid becoming rail-paste.

The trio turned and looked at him as he landed. The middle one, a strange man wearing a queer but powerful manatech suit with cat augments, gestured to Quincy. “See? I knew if we stayed here a local would approach eventually-”

“That is literally the dumbest plan-” A woman with short hair bit her lip and sent a glare at Quincy.

“-anyways, fellow machine, please direct us to the nearest city center. We wish to sample some of your finest cuisine.”

“He’s not a machine,” The third woman cut in, pointing rather rudely at Quincy. “He just wears a metal exoskeleton to protect his weak body. Honestly, everyone on this entire planet is weak. Why does the Ghosthound keep it inside his body?”

Quincy blinked, unable to follow the logic of these three.

“His organic composition,” The catman admitted, “But certainly, it at least shows promise that he recognizes his soft flesh is better served supporting a capable machine than simply existing alone. Someday, he might amount to something if he keeps putting in the proper amount of effort.”

The combination of his sweating and the obvious dismissal from the three figures did not improve Quincy’s mood. He cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “You three. I’m Sergeant Wright of Zone 1’s internal policing force. When you address me, you will do so with respect. Is that clear?”

The three looked at him. The metal man snickered.

Quincy scowled and pressed a button in the interior of the suit to call for backup. His headache seemed to worsen with every second the metal man smirked at him. “I’m going to need to see identification from the three of you.”

“Ah, we are travelers from the Nexus,” The short-haired woman waved her hand. “Obviously, we don’t have the proper identification for your planet. However, we are more than willing to fill out the necessary forms. And for the record, we are close personal friends of Randidly Ghosthound-”

“Yea, real fucking funny,” Quincy rolled his shoulder. The gleaming modular backpack shifted and snapped into the rifle attachment against his right arm. The barrel began to glow with the azure light of pressurized Mana. He pointed it at the metal man’s chest “I’ll only ask one more time. Produce your identification or I’ll be forced to place you under arrest.”

“He’s going to arrest us,” The metal man said to the short-haired woman. He seemed to be barely restraining his laughter. “With… pfffft…. A weapon without any image… keh…!”

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