“And so you come to me at the beginning of the end,” Konol spoke. “I see what has been unleashed. And I cannot deny there is some justice to it.”

“God,” Rotgoriel said, feeling his heart plummet. “What can I do to fix this?”

“Were I unbound and still widely worshiped, it would be no challenge at all. I could deal with an itinerant old one, even one of their elder gods. He is far from home, and working through a mask. But I have been worn down, and I do not know what you can do to amend matters.”

“How were you bound? Can I rip the chains away?” Rotgoriel asked.

“I cannot speak of it here.”

“If I found you more worshipers, would you regain the strength to free yourself?”

“I cannot speak of it here.”

“Well where can you speak of it?” Rotgoriel felt his temper fraying. After all he'd gone through, all the setbacks and struggles, the last thing he was going to do was give up! But he heard defeat in his god's tones, and that hurt him, made him doubt. As his brother said, his fucks were limited, and he was running out of them to give. And he didn't want to believe that he had come this far, survived all of this, just to run into hopelessness now.

“You know where I am,” Konol said. “But I would have to speak with both of you at once. That is all I can say about it.”

Both at once? What did he mean?

Then Rotgoriel looked down at the mirror in his hands. It was one of the few clearly visible things in a world of crackling glass; the effect of the prayer didn't touch it.

Could it really be so simple?

Yes, yes it could. Konol was forbidden of speaking his secrets to this world. But the hole in reality was a gateway to his world. And there he was forbidden from speaking, but the mirror didn't use anything as simple as speech...

“Loopholes are all I have left,” Konol said, and that confirmed it.

“End Prayer,” Rotgoriel spoke, and took wing.

LivingDeadGrrl: Dude?

Rutger: I have to save my god.

LivingDeadGrrl: Pretty lousy god, then.

Rutger: It's partially my fault.

Agnezsharron: Perhaps... it would be best for us and dragons in general if you let this god go.

Rutger: I do not let my friends die.

Silence for a bit, then a whisper came from behind him. He looked back to see LivingDeadGrrl slicing through the storm, covered in blood and spear held behind her to reduce windshear.

LivingDeadGrrl: Fuck it. Can't go with the elves anyway, I might as well help you out with this.

Geebo: Be careful, Master!

Sir Gideon: Good luck, Rich's bot.

LivingDeadGrrl: Wait, what?

Sir Gideon: It's a —

Rutger: Long story. I need you to cover me while I dive into a hole in reality and talk with a god. Then we need to escape before the Warmers come.

He had no doubt they would be on their way, once they finished business in that library.

LivingDeadGrrl: Let me guess. That hole you wanna go through is the one right in the middle of that ice spider swarm.

Rutger: Yes.

LivingDeadGrrl: Just so you know I'm streaming this.

Rutger: You weren't already?

LivingDeadGrrl: Heh. You know me so well.

She peeled away, and fell from the sky like a hunting hawk. The spiders scrambled, rearranging to swarm her the second she touched down, but she never did. He saw her veer up at the last minute, raining down icicles in her trail, icicles that fell with the force of spears as she dive-bombed them.

Rotgoriel moved to the opposite side and let loose with his own elemental fury.

Your Burninate Skill is now level 22!

The spiders would have been death on eight legs to anyone who approached on foot. But with wings in the equation, they were barely a challenge.

But all they have to do is slow us down, Rotgoriel reminded himself.

Rutger: I'm going in, he told her when the swarm had been thinned enough.

Rotgoriel shifted until the current was impossible to ignore, then plummeted, folding his wings at the last minute.

And he passed through the tear in the world.

It was cold on the other side, so cold that anyone without his inner flame would have frozen in a matter of minutes. But Fimble had prepared him well for the cold, and though it hurt to breathe, he could without freezing his lungs in his chest.

There was air, though it was thin...

...but of more immediate concern was the abomination before him.

It had drifted away from the hole, towards Konol, but it was still too close to ignore, and as he gazed upon the writhing tentacles and the horrible, almost-human parts he felt his mind start to go again.

No! I have a skill for this!

“Unhinged Mind Two Hundred!”

Fortune -200

SAN+200

You may end this buff at any time!

The very sight of the thing dug into his skull, ripping at his mind... but his mind expanded, simultaneously. It hurt, but it gave him the chance he needed to look away, whirl and stare back out of the hole, back to where LivingDeadGrrl danced and skirmished with the spiders.

You have gazed upon the Crawling Case!

You take 110 points of SAN damage!

Feeling burnt, feeling numb, Rotgoriel took a second to stabilize as best he could, breathing the too-thin air, and resting in the void, surrounded only by stars to either side, and a horror to his back.

Finally, feeling as could as he was going to get, and knowing that time was trickling away, he held the mirror up to his face and breathed the words.

“Activate Planar Contact.”

And to his surprise, the starscape around him shifted. Green light flooded in from between the stars, surrounded him in a haze.

It was similar to what he normally felt, when he used this mirror, but the visuals were all different.

Except they aren't. The stars are there. The green is here. And the window is opening, but I can see it opening over there.

It is because I am using the mirror here. This is the betweenspace the mirror taps into, when I use it to speak between worlds!

INT+1

Then conscious thought fled him, as he gazed at his brother. Under moonlight, rocking back and forth in a cart looking in at Rotgoriel with surprise.

“You found the mirror?”

“I did. But there is no time—”

“There is more time than you think,” said Konol.

The stars stopped moving. Total silence fell upon Rotgoriel's ears, he could no longer hear the wind between the worlds.

“Oh shit,” Richard said. “This thing has a conference call mode?”

“A what... oh,” Rotgoriel said. “Yes. I am in the breach.”

“The what now?”

“Easier if we share memories.” Rotgoriel surged forward, and Richard stretched out a hand to him. They flowed into one another once more, their minds joining, their memories opening like pages of a book.

“You killed Cole,” Rotgoriel said, watching the teen's head snap back in the moonlight, watching him crumple.

“Greg killed Cole. Because I told him to,” Richard sighed. “We can't kill all of them. We need to find a way to cut this off.”

“This... oh.” Rotgoriel found the parts of Richard's memory that dealt with viewing Cutter's file. “The Thing In Yellow is spreading into your world. One corrupted player at a time.”

“Not just the Thing In Yellow. There's different types. Cole was corrupted by... oh, okay. Oh, that's what happened on your side. Shit.”

“Shit,” Rotgoriel agreed.

“A large pile of it,” Konol concurred. “You must fight it in two worlds if you are to succeed.”

“How can we do that?” Richard asked.

“I do not know. And I can do little to aid. My doom comes for me, now. And you cannot stop it.”

Rotgoriel saw Richard squint, move to look around him. The dragon hastily extended his wings to block his brother's view.

“It is the thing that wore Cole like a suit. It would rip at your mind to see it,” Rotgoriel explained.

Rich blinked, then his face filled with surprise. “Oh shit. Even in your memories it's bad. Fuck. No, no we can't fight that.”

“Konol can, but we must free him,” Rotgoriel said. “Can you speak more on that now?” he asked of his god.

“Perhaps. Use your third eye, and look about you. Avoid gazing toward the entity, of course.”

“Third eye?” Rotgoriel asked.

“He's talking about Occult Eye, Rot— oh. Oh wow.”

Rich's eyes went wide.

And Rotgoriel could see why, because every star he could see in the field around him was linked together with code. Spiraling runes, a pattern of vast and incomprehensible intricacy, green and linking and endless, coalescing down towards...

The black bulk of the Crawling CASE loomed again, and Rotgoriel looked away before he could lose the rest of his mind.

And he found himself staring at the rent in reality. There was code here too, but of a different sort. Jagged symbols, very different from the green lattice. Familiar, somehow.

“This is Arabic,” Rotgoriel said, after reviewing Richard's memories.

“The Thing in Yellow did this,” Rich agreed. “And this, at least, I can work with. I can hack this stuff. Give me a bit to get it translated, got to load the apps up.”

“But what will it do?” Rotgoriel asked. “Will hacking it do any good?”

“You may close the breach. That would keep any more of the old ones from assaulting me through that portal.”

“But can we free you from here?”

Richard leaned forward, considering. Then he shook his head. “The code gets more intricate the closer it gets to Konol, but that thing is between us and him. We can't get a good view. Not from here. And I can't read the stuff! It's... squiggles. I need something to decompile it. No, not even that, I need something to translate it, first.”

“Then we can do nothing?” Rotgoriel asked.

“Now? No. Not with that. But in time... Konol, do you have anything that can help us read this?”

“It is true draconic. That Rotgoriel cannot read it tells me much. It has been hidden by those who betrayed me, I think. Find them and you will find the keys to my chains, figuratively and literally.”

“Can you at least give us a place to start?” Richard asked. “Some direction at least?”

“I do not know if any of those I saw betraying me yet live. And my memories have warped, as the ages rolled by. Find the oldest of dragons, and some among them will be the guilty. That is the only certainty I have to offer.”

“Why?” Richard asked. “Why is it code in the first place? Look, I get that this isn't a game. It just looks like one, feels like one to draw people in. But why is code the basis of reality? You guys were obviously around before you breached into our world, so how is it that our code works on your reality?”

“It was not always as you see it. When we drew in the daemons, the world adapted to their magic. When we lured the old ones, the symbols shifted, and the work the daemons had done shifted with them. The djinni likewise brought their own magic, and Generica shifted to make it the dominant form. And now, like all three before you, it has adapted to your world and accommodated it.”

“What?” Rotgoriel said, crest flaring with alarm. “Humans are not dark creatures!”

“Dark creatures were not always dark creatures. But their wells changed them.”

Richard continued on. “So before this was code, this was something else. So our dimension's magic is computer code? I'm not sure I agree with that.”

“The rituals that allow me to act as I have been bound see it as your world's magic. So in a sense it matters little if you agree with that or you do not.”

“Is time truly frozen here?” Rotgoriel asked.

“No. Merely slowed.”

“Then Richard, we must act.”

“I have so many questions for this guy. So damn many.”

“So do the Bharstool Warmers. And they are on their way here.”

“Shit. Yeah. Okay. Let me work. Konol, can you keep this time slowed until I'm ready to hack?”

“I can try.”

“There are other breaches, yes?” Rotgoriel asked. “We can return, and try to free you from another direction, one where the old one does not lurk?”

“There are other breaches. The Old Ones were not the first to try this tactic.”

“Good. Let us seal this, and depart. We must be gone before they arrive!”

There in that timeless space, it was impossible to tell how long it took. Richard worked, and Rotgoriel watched, fascinated, as the magic in his brother's head did its thing. These Echoes, these machines, these everyday miracles that his brother's people so took for granted. What was it, if not magic of a sort?

Finally, Richard grunted. “I can do it. You need to get moving, though. It's going to seal fast once the stacks cascade.”

“I shall,” Rotgoriel said, and flexed his wings.

“I am releasing my hold on time,” Konol said. “I place my hope in you. Free me, Rotgoriel. Free me Richard. Free me and stop the cycle. Now!”

The stars resumed their flickering.

And the wind between the world changed. It shrieked now, hissing as the rent shrunk.

“Go!” Rich yelled, as the mirror contact faded.

But Rotgoriel found himself distracted, as words surged across his vision.

You are now a level 17 Cultist!

CHA+3

INT+3

LUCK+3

You are now a level 18 Cultist!

CHA+3

INT+3

LUCK+3

You are now a level 12 Cleric!

CON+3

LUCK+3

WIS+3

You are now a level 13 Cleric!

CON+3

LUCK+3

WIS+3

You are now a level 14 Cleric!

CON+3

LUCK+3

WIS+3

Congratulations! By using dark, blasphemous magic to seal away your own god, you have unlocked the Godbinder job!

You cannot become a Godbinder at this time. Seek out your guild to transfer jobs.

Rotgoriel gasped. “Richard?” he asked, but his brother was gone.

And the hole was closing. That was what mattered! Rotgoriel spread his wings, and flew against the wind...

…and jerked to a stop, abruptly.

Something had ahold of his tail.

Something smooth and cold and almost unnoticeable against the cold of the void.

With a sick feeling, Rotgoriel knew exactly what had bound him.

“Oh no. No no no,” the Crawling Case's voice echoed there in that far place. “You don't get away THAT easily, boss...”

If he had still been the same young, callow dragon who had flown his way to Fimble, he would have hesitated.

If he had still been the confused, angst-filled young creature who mourned that Geebo didn't truly love him, then he might have failed.

If he had at all frozen up or been surprised at the situation, he would have been lost, perhaps forever.

But as the tentacle tightened on his tail and started to draw him back, Rotgoriel saw clearly what he had to do.

“Holy Smite! Unholy Smite! Fevered Zeal! Bless my Strength one hundred,” he roared.

And then, still pumping his wings as hard as he could, he whipped his neck down and bit through his own tail.

Up he raced through the hole, up, barely through it before it closed, realizing with a sick laugh that it was well and good he'd lost most of his tail now, for it would have been severed by the closing hole anyway.

Up with the screams of an elder god echoing in his ears... and the laughter of another god entirely fading from his mind as the last vestiges of the mirror's link faded away.

Up and past LivingDeadGrrl, who rose to join him as four figures charged down the street too late, watching their quarry rise and wing westward, toward the moon and freedom.

They had lost many battles here, Rotgoriel knew.

But the war was yet to be decided. And in this, at least, he had thwarted his foes.

Agnezsharron: Rotgoriel? It just let us know you were back on this plane of existance.

Rotgoriel's laughter died away. He glanced back at the stump of his tail.

Shit, he realized. I just could have used Divine Transit. That's what it's for.

Agnezsharron: Rotgoriel?

Rutger: No matter. Let us leave this place. We have a quest ahead of us, and hell behind.

Sir Gideon: A quest? Whatcha got?

Rutger: How much experience do you think we shall get for freeing a captive god?