The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

For just a moment as Xershi’s creator whispered, Randidly felt emotions stirring in that spot where Xershi was looking. The madness pulsed and writhed, gleeful and self-indulgent.

Then the disturbance vanished, leaving Randidly with a sinking feeling in his chest. Not only was the emotional affect he felt on par with the most violent he had managed to see from the Grey Creature-as-emotional-landfill, but also this creator’s presence instantly vanished. No matter how Randidly looked, he couldn’t find a trace.

His fingers tapped lightly at the frosted glass of the tube.

Randidly’s thoughts shifted to a different issue; the fact that Yystrix had donated to Elhume half her power was a familiar development that had come up in her explanation of her past. However, the way she had framed it was that this happened pre-Nexus. That most of their interactions had occurred before Elhume had risen to the Pinnacle and become the dictator that now crouched above them all.

But what if that was a lie? A deliberate misleading context?

What if Yystrix and Elhume’s relationship had continued on for quite a while, into the era of the Cohorts? And based on Elhume’s sudden shift at the end of the Second Cohort, with so many of the Patrons dying suddenly and mysteriously-

Randidly blinked back to himself because Xershi’s image was roaring around his body, rippling in the air with his emotional intensity. The liger man showed his teeth, even as the manifestation behind him raised its head and roared. “I will not allow you to compromise your integrity for this. Before you are tempted, I will destroy all of this.”

Randidly hadn’t been paying much attention to the environment on the forty-ninth floor; obviously it was positive for images, but he had been sidetracked by the presence of the Patron dolls and hadn’t examined the area too closely. His own use of images had been suppressed, because of the Patron of the Borrowed’s capability. His body ended up being enough.

Yet now, feeling the way Xershi’s image seemed to be unfolding and inflating to become a massive, dense, overwhelming, vicious, figure- as they neared the center portion of the Sonara, the environment became impossible helpful in sharpening an image. Roaring and proud, it truly felt like Xershi would be able to shatter everything in his path.

Feeling his power, Randidly wasn’t sure if a triplicate image activation of his right now could stop the prowling liger. After being so cowed by Duulys, Xershi had grown.

Into that storm of emotion, Pullas stepped in front of Xershi with both hands raised. “Xershi, please wait. Even if you can destroy these objects, think of how much Aether has been funneled into them over the years. If that’s unleashed, we will all be swept away-”

“Better that I die than allow the creator to succumb to temptation,” Xershi began. “At least this way, my life will have a purpose.”

“A purpose you chose?” The hidden voice cackled, all softness and kindness suddenly vanished from its cadence. Xershi flinched, his image wavering. The voice also didn’t sound very worried either, just deeply amused. “Oh, Xershi, have you stumbled across a truth you don’t quite want to face? I honestly should give you more credit; apparently, that feline brain of yours is somewhat savvy.”

Gritting his teeth, Xershi began to walk forward. His body trembled to contain his own rapidly growing image. “Out of my way, Pullas.”

“Xershi!” Pullas seemed aghast. His shoulders butted up against her hands and she began to backpedal to stay in front of him. “No positive outcome can result-”

“Who are you protecting?” The creator asked. The space around them was so empty, the voice spread out and sank into everything, its vibrations rubbing against the skin. “Me from myself? Or you, from your truth? Let me guess something- you’ve begun to suspect that your memories are fabricated, haven’t you Xershi? Ha! Of course, the connection of your Ascension Pact made them stand out too starkly. The Ghosthound exposing you to Nether. Suddenly, your past rings hollow-”

“Move, Pullas,” Xershi hissed. Thick lines of saliva dripped from his image’s fangs.

Pullas seemed about to cry, but then Fiona was there, her hand clamping down on Xershi’s shoulder and wrenching him back so he didn’t butt his chest against Pullas’s nose. “No, you idiot. Don’t listen to the voice, it’s just fucking with you. What if destroying the tubes is what it wants? Just ignore it.”

Randidly tried to pay attention to the developing situation next to him, but he couldn’t help but wander through the chill connection of his fingers to the composite glass of the tube, hating and craving the familiar sensation of Yystrix’s presence floating there in front of him. His breath began to quicken.

The voice continued to speak. “-and with the awareness that your memories of growing weren’t real, you begin to wonder ‘why’? Such a scary question to ask for all intelligent beings. Not even ‘why do I exist’. But ‘why did someone want me to believe I’ve existed for a while, when I hadn’t?’ Then, pfttt, you arrived at the previous layer and saw the empty portrait within the temporary workshop. And you stupid, dumb, sociopathic liger, do you want me to hazard a guess what your reaction was?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Xershi bellowed. His image continued to seeth and refine itself, sharpening the details, solidifying the flow of energy through its joints, intensifying its emotional affect. “You… you aren’t my creator!”

“Would I have nearly as much insight into you if I wasn’t?” The voice chortled. “No, you saw the empty portrait and thought ‘what if I am my own creator, who erased my own memories to walk even further on the holy path of ethical creation?’ Imagine; to confront emptiness and come to the conclusion that you are the closest thing there is to a god. Bahaha! What a cute little kitty you’ve become. How audacious.

“But the god you couldn’t find in the portrait is me, Xershi. And you… well, you were made with a very specific purpose. Would you like to know what that is?”

The deeper Randidly’s awareness went into the interior, the more constricting cold the membrane between him and that familiar presence became. As he forced his way through, riding on a wave of Aether to push back the densely packed energy within, he realized what he would find in the middle: Aetherium. One left by Yystrix.

One so massive it needed to be constantly surrounded by thick energy to contain. Fully half of the height of Yystrix’s power.

The other half to the key she had inscribed into his body. Randidly’s Grey Monarch’s Authority stretched out greedy fingers, wanting to reunite these two pieces of her. Neveah’s consciousness joined him, the two of them working together to dice their way through the calcified energy.

“You were designed,” The voice stretched out its words, obviously savoring the slow reveal. “To meet and befriend Randidly Ghosthound. And then, eventually, kill him, when jealousy over his talent overwhelmed your puny, pathetic little consciousness. You’ve been doing such an excellent job, by the way. How has it felt the past several layers, to have him be able to circumvent Elhume’s defenses while you had to rely on him to advance? To such a prideful being, it must have been galling. You even sample a fraction of his Stats and its such an elevation of capability! Does it rankle?”

Distantly, Randidly heard and understood what the voice was saying. However, he believed that obtaining the energy within the tube in front of him was more important. He closed off his awareness, losing himself in the reaching. His images, even the usually surly Grey Creature, all worked together to pry open the energy and create a path.

*****

“That-” The metal liger man stuttered at the pronouncement, his eyes widening. Fiona stood firmly in front of him, observing his response. From his expression of dawning horror, it seemed like he believed the voice might be telling the truth. Or at least, he had been feeling quite jealous of the Ghosthound’s capability.

Fiona wouldn’t blame him for that. How constantly resourceful Randidly proved to be also left a sour note in her mouth as well.

Pullas’s expression softened. “Xershi, no matter what this thing says, you are still-”

“From my research, Randidly Ghosthound has a profound effect in every area that he passes through. The frontlines, military high command, his interactions with the overlay System… strange errors keep popping up when he lingers for too long.” The voice seemed to now be gloating. “Considering how important moments have always held the key for a true chance at the Pinnacle, I knew that I needed a representative close to him; if just to keep abreast of developments. Tuning you to be slowly consumed by jealousy was just to make sure he never developed enough to be a threat to me; you were purposefully designed so you couldn’t handle that. If you had to put it at a percentage, how close to losing your temper and attacking him do you think you are, Xershi?”

Xershi swayed, the words almost physically striking against him. He glanced sideways toward the Ghosthound. Fiona turned too, slightly anxious that her previous tantrum would have made Randidly sensitive toward other people in the Ascension Pact turning against him.

Randidly looked like he was daydreaming, just leaning against one of the massive tubes with a distant expression.

Pullas interjected into the extended motion. “Look, we trust you Xershi. We know you would never do something like that.”

Fiona cleared her throat to interrupt; Pullas meant well, but she lived in a world of pretty shapes and neat boxes. “Thoughts and actions are different fucking things, Xershi. Get out of your own head; you haven’t done anything yet. Right now, that’s all that matters.”

“Do whatever you want,” The voice said with an implied shrug. Fiona planted more and more mauve notes in the surroundings, but the speaker was skilled enough to avoid her traps. “As I said, this honesty is a favor. Do with it what you will.”

That finally did seem to get Xershi to release the tight grip he had on his image. The liger finally ceased spitting, beginning to fade back into his body. Xershi grimaced. “I… the fact I was created to… well, fuck. I don’t want to think about this right now. Can we just-”

“Buuuurrrppp!”

Randidly Ghosthound’s thunderous belch flattened the conversation. The group turned to him, to find him finally pulling his hand away from the tube and tapping his chest. Then he grinned around, looking quite pleased with himself. “Yea, let’s just move on from here. I’ll take us to the edge of the layer. Godspeed, creator.”

“What a great burp,” Xershi said glumly.

“I honestly found it pretty obnoxious,” Pullas pouted. “Why the hell is he so gassy?”

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