෴Raz෴

෴Mercator෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Descent Into Darkness

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

The sound of his mother crying stopped, cut off abruptly. Raz paused a few feet inside the tunnel, his pulse racing and his mind full of conflicting thoughts. Air flowed softly out from the tunnel against his face. He sniffed, then made a conscious decision to smell it all, taking in the soft flow of air that carried an unpleasant blend of blood, viscera, fear, rotting meat, smoke, rendered fat, beef, bacon, and a musky scent he couldn’t identify. It smelled like an animal, but nothing he’d encountered before. The scent raised the hair on the back of his neck. In an instant, he experienced the racial memory of standing alone, naked and afraid, on some ancient landscape, catching the scent of an apex predator on the wind.

What are you doing!? You can’t do this alone! Mercator took Midnight out so fast I didn't even see it happen!

Mom is already here alone! I’m not leaving her here. For all I know, I’m on my own, and he just bailed on me. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Exactly! Going on alone is stupid! You saw it! Midnight was afraid to go it alone, and now he’s gone! What the hell do you think you’ll accomplish beyond getting eaten? You do realize this is the moment in the movie where the audience is desperately trying to tell you not to go in there, because if you do, they all know it’s going to end badly.

Shut up. Mom is in there, I’m going in, and I’m going to get her out safe.

If she’s even still alive, if she was ever even here to begin with. You’re just going to end up on the menu yourself.

Shut up fear. I’m doing it. This is happening. Any more whining about it is just dividing my focus.

With more willpower than it felt like it should take, he quelled his fears and brought his full focus to bear on the situation. His senses presented him with a conflicted and discordant view. To his eyes, the tunnel led downward into the earth. The tunnel had extremely smooth, straight walls and a tall ceiling. The floor had a rough, even texture. He could see it was a straight shot on a gentle downward slope that gradually transitioned into impenetrable darkness before the tunnel deviated, if it ever did. In contrast, his electrosense and biosense perceived the tunnel ending right in front of him, inches from his face. He raised his hand to touch it, only to find the weapon still in his grasp.

I could swear I dropped it when I was crawling away from that suction storm thing. How is it still in my hand?

He looked at the double-headed scepter. One of the many tabs of ignored HUD messages flashed. Eager for anything to delay going down the tunnel, he looked at it.

[Weapon inspect 2 activated: Re-shapeable one handed weapon with conduit functions.

Limitations: Many possible club or blunt weapons, few dagger or spike weapons. Cannot form long, sharp edges. Total mass does not allow for large two handed weapons.

Known configurations: Scepter, Vajra, Vajrakila, Dorje, Phurba, War Club, Rungu, Shillelagh, Gata, Sali, Mace,

Consumes stored energy at a high rate during self repair.

Consumes stored energy at a moderate rate during physical reformations.

Consumes stored energy at a minor rate for return or when seeking conduit points.

Additional abilities: Failure. Increase Weapon Examination ability and or Host perceptual abilities to increase confidence.]

Oh right, that's why I have so many of the messages muted. Interesting, possibly useful, but not exactly critical. Can you make sure to get rid of any messages that are no longer relevant.

[That happens automatically.]

Any idea how much more to get Weapon Ex—

[Might I suggest that we not engage in extended introspection at the edge of whatever this is?]

Good call, I can’t avoid this by navel gazing, and this seems like a bad place to be distracted.

Returning his attention to the weapon, he realized that he not only was pretty sure he’d dropped it, he didn’t recall collapsing it back down to its current size or form of a dagger ended scepter. In the confusion and mad scramble away from the hole into nothing, he was just pleasantly surprised he’d managed to hold onto it at all. One end of the scepter had changed. Where before the three talon-like prongs had met at the tips to form a sort of ribbed club head, now the sharp points had opened up. The three prongs were stylized lightning bolts curved into sharp talons. The current shape of the weapon formed a needle tipped lightning trident with a dagger point like a diamond on the other end. He idly noticed the weapon was three millimeters longer in this configuration, with the clawed end and the dagger tip both extending exactly nine inches past his gauntlet.

Claws made of lightning. Maybe Brock really made it specifically for me.

Gingerly, he pressed the dagger tip against the invisible barrier, only perceptible to some of his senses. Without any effort, the wall stretched like an ultra-thin membrane, before abruptly yielding, taking the entire dagger point and half of his gauntleted fist through. A cool, barely discernible feeling hit the part of his hand that had passed through the membrane. Reflexively, he yanked his hand back. The membrane stretched and then let his hand and weapon go, again with no resistance.

Ok, so that’s weird.

He felt the fear rising again and shoved it down. Without giving himself a chance to waver, he stepped through the invisible membrane. The sudden influx of sensation was dizzying for a moment. Everything about the tunnel was different on the other side of the thin barrier. The first thing he noticed was how much darker it was in the tunnel now that he was inside it.

[We have just experienced a severe chronospatial dislocation and disruption. This is a very different place.]

So that’s like one of Brock’s doors?

[I suspect this portal is a good deal more sophisticated, and powerful, than the ones Brock uses.]

The energy here feels different, thicker, easier to get a hold of.

[Yes, the local energy density is very much like it was standing near the African Incursion.]

Raz pulled in great swathes of energy for a moment, setting his gear to humming. The skin tight armor hummed softly, while the gauntlets and vambraces thrummed with a deep bass that wasn’t really sound at all. As it took in the energy, the weapon vibrated and shook in his hand as though eager to be used.

Shouldn’t have brought this thing, whatever it is. Even with Weapon Exam’s breakdown, I don’t really see how to use it. Right now, it’s a dagger. Maybe I could stretch it into a short spear. It turns into a sort of club, but then I get surprised and it’s back to this dagger-trident shape. It’s all I have, but it doesn't exactly inspire confidence.

Soon enough, all his gear was as fully charged as he could make it.

Ok, so the energy works, it feels fine. That’s one worry off the list. The next question is, charge in, or sneak in? I feel like any element of surprise is probably blown at this point.

[Agreed.]

Once he’d finished testing out the local energy, Raz waited there for another moment just in case his passage through the barrier had triggered something. When nothing seemed to happen, he cautiously made his way down the spacious hallway. Looking back, the edge of the portal was pitch black. Peering through it, he could just barely make out a very faint red dot where Venus should be shining brightly.

Why is it so dark out there? For that matter, why’s it so dark in here? It didn't look dark from out there. Oh no. If that’s red shift, that means time in here is different from outside. Help might be a long time coming. No! Doesn’t matter! Bigger problems at hand.

Electrosense showed the barrier as an opaque, iridescent wall. When he turned back to the tunnel, the shimmering glow of electrosense was dimmer than he’d ever seen it. The glow barely extended to the walls and floor directly around him.

This place has almost no ambient electricity? Not even a static charge in the air? What kind of place doesn’t even have static charge building in the air? Weird.

Biosense revealed a similarly barren view. He could feel that there were living things in the area, but far less than he’d seen even out on the desolate desert sands.

He held the weapon in his right hand and trailed his left along the wall. Despite his efforts at stealth, his boots seemed to hit the textured floor in such a way to make too much noise with every step. The only upside was the way each noisy step painted a picture in sound and echoes off the walls around him. Despite the dim electrosense and pulsing sonic imaging of the long tunnel, the darkness was oppressive, squeezing in on him as though it had a weight and substance all its own. Even with his keen nightvision, he couldn’t so much as make out the floor beneath his feet.

So damn dark. Maybe I should pull in just enough White Fire to make an arc light. Of course, that’d be a little too bright, and not at all subtle.

The hiss and rub of his boots against the floor caused a strange growing certainty that he was walking upon a narrow clear path in a hallway filled with snakes.

There’s no snakes. I’d see them with biosense if there were.

Then why are you so sure the hall is full of snakes?

Shut up!

Further into the tunnel, he encountered another invisible field. This one put up just the slightest resistance. It seemed to be testing him in some way. Raz wasn’t sure if he’d passed or failed, but it let him through without a fight. After what felt like miles of carefully stumbling along in the darkness, a distance the HUD assured him was more like forty meters, the left wall abruptly vanished. His sudden, frantic gropings revealed the tunnel had simply made a sharp turn. What little he could feel around him confirmed it was a left turn, so he stayed with the left wall until he discovered another turn. Here, the soft echoes changed, the air movement shifted, everything around him told him that this was the end of the tunnel, and the beginning of a large chamber.

From around the next corner, a voice deeper than any human called out. “Finally. I was beginning to wonder if one could get lost in a single tunnel.”

Raz froze, he could feel the deep voice in his chest as it echoed around the high ceiling of what felt like a large chamber. Despite the confusing echoes, he could tell where the voice had originated. Without rushing, he carefully made his way ahead until the passage widened and turned again. The lights slowly came up.

Well, this guy has a thing for the dramatic. Holy crap, Midnight wasn’t kidding. It’s like right out of myth and legend. Bigger problems indeed.

The being sitting in a stone chair large enough to qualify as a throne was a demon. Or a devil, or an Oni, or maybe a—Raz realized there were far too many mythologies this guy could have stepped right out of, but one thing they all agreed on. He couldn't afford to get lost in thought in this thing’s presence.

“So, I take it you’re Mercator?” Raz ventured without taking a step closer.

The creature spread its hands in a broad, expansive gesture.

“Well, that does seem to be all that you humans can pronounce of my name. I am,” it made a long series of low-pitched sounds, most of them impossible for a human mouth throat, “of the,” the next series of unpronounceable sounds were shorter, and Raz could hear the syllables where Midnight had gotten ‘Megiror’ out of them. As the horned creature spoke, Raz noticed a discrepancy between its vocal sounds and the movement of its mouth.

Is this guy being dubbed? His mouth isn't quite in sync with his words.

“My name is Raz, of humanity.” I guess.

He looks so wrong. It’s the weird proportions. His arms look almost twice as long as his legs. More like a gorilla than a human.

Mercator chuckled, a low rumbling bass Raz could feel in his torso. “You made it through the tunnel, so I am obliged to ask. Are you here as a champion?” The creature leaned forward in the chair, four fingered hands gripping the armrests as though ready to spring into action.

Raz saw all this and reached for White Fire. The familiar door within him, that seemed so easy to access, and sometimes opened on its own, suddenly seemed so very far away, totally out of reach. Immediately, a series of errors popped up on the HUD. According to his unspoken wish, the errors filed away and reduced down to a cogent few.

[White Fire unavailable. Reality threshold barrier detected.]

[Destructible reality threshold detected.]

[Quantum Blade available. Activate Quantum Blade?]

[Warning, activating Quantum Blade will damage sub-reality threshold. Sufficient damage will rupture reality threshold. Rupturing sub-realities from within is generally fatal for all within.]

“Uh, well,” Raz started, and then trailed off.

“It is a simple question. Are you, or are you not, here as a champion?” Mercator demanded.

Raz could practically hear Midnight’s voice. ‘If he asks if you’re a champion, you say yes!’

Forcing every bit of nonchalance he could muster, Raz shrugged. “Well, I am a champion. But I don’t really have to be here as a champion, if you know what I mean.”

Mercator got to his feet with a soft grunt of effort, revealing an inhumanly long torso and arms that went down nearly to his knees. Along one side of his abdomen was a large mess of raised dark blue traceries of fresh scar tissue.

“An interesting idea. I suppose not.” Mercator spoke in a low rumble, “As I said, I am Mercator the Cartographer. What is your title?”

The longer Raz watched him speak, the more obviously decoupled Mercator’s mouth movements and sound were.

I need a title? Why didn't Midnight mention that?!

Mental finger on the trigger of Quantum Blade, Raz decided to bluff. “Well, I’ve had many titles in my time. You know how it is.”

Mercator frowned, the expression crunched up his face in a horrifying way. The only good thing about that frown was that it hid his mouthful of sharp teeth. “Yes. I suppose I do understand. What shall I call you then? Your full name will do.”

It’s probably just superstition, but I just don’t think I want to give him my full name. Then again, not too long ago I’d have considered this guy superstition.

Thinking back to the awkward but cool translation of what some of the mothers of sick infants in the refugee camp had started calling him, a slight smile crossed his face. “Well, most recently, I’ve been given the title of ‘Thief of Death’. I suppose you can use that one.”

Mercator looked at him, and cocked his head to the side far enough to touch his horns to his massive shoulders before sniffing the air. “How interesting. I will. So tell me, Raz, Thief of Death, why are you here?”

The moment he heard the question, Raz dropped into slowtime to give himself a moment to think.

Oh crap, why am I here? Why didn’t I think all this through? If Midnight is right, the last thing I can do is let Mercator know that Mom is important to me. Think! Why am I here?

“Well, Midnight thought it was about time I meet you.”

Stupid! What a stupid reason! Was that the best you could do?

Mercator made a rumbling sound deep in his chest, almost like a cat’s purr, if a cat was 3.6 meters tall and weighed a couple tons or more. “That is surprising. I expected my next visit with him to be somewhat less,” he paused and licked his lips, revealing a long green tongue, “social. In fact, if you are expecting him to join you, you should know that I have sent him very far away, and the world outside is moving slower than we are.”

No fear, don’t show any fear. You confirmed my time theory. Thanks, I hate it.

Raz forced indifference into his voice and stance. “Well, that’s inconvenient, but clearly he isn’t required to introduce me. He did say he wanted to check on something, but he didn’t say what.”

Mercator’s red-gold eyes flashed in anticipation. “You’re lying. I smell lies just like I smell the—” he paused and sniffed the air again, “hmm, I don’t quite know what that smell clinging to you is. You smell—” he took another long inhalation, flicking his tongue out as he did, “Midnight sometimes smells like this, just a little, when I can smell anything beyond all his cold iron. But you? You smell like a storm.”

Great, he smells the lightning even though I can’t get any right now.

“Well, you know, it’s probably just my new cologne.”

Mercator sniffed again. “Your lies test my patience. If you are a champion, but you are not, as you say, here as a champion. What do you want?” He took a step forward, the lumbering movement suddenly driving home just how much bigger he was.

Good lord, he’s huge. Two big steps and he’d be in reach with those giant arms.

The proximity triggered something in his perception. Suddenly Raz could see a small status box above Mercator’s head.

[Decoding ongoing ability activation.]

The ability had a name and what Raz suspected was a countdown, even if the symbols were totally foreign to him.

Wait a second, not totally foreign. Some of these symbols match the metal sheets I got from—No! This isn’t the time.

He wrenched himself back into the moment in time to see Mercator coiling as if to leap across the room. Raz dropped into slowtime and adjusted his footing and stance, preparing for a quick evasive action.

He was about to attack when I seemed distracted! Gotta stay focused.

Seeing his reaction seemed to satisfy something in the giant. Mercator eased back and walked on all fours back to the immense chair. Plopping himself into it with a loud thump, he eyed Raz.

“So, you wish to check in on me?” Mercator asked with a wide, toothy smile.

Raz wasn’t sure if it was a malevolent smile, or if all Mercator’s smiles looked like that. Either way, nothing about that small put him at ease.

Let’s see how you do with partial truths.

“So, Midnight didn’t tell me much about you. Almost nothing in the big picture. I did get the impression that he regrets how things went last time, and would like to make things right.”

And by regret, I mean he regrets not killing you, and by wanting to make things right, I mean he’d like to remedy that failure.

Mercator didn’t call him out on a lie. “Does he now? Well, perhaps mistakes were made. I underestimated him, to be sure. Still, it leaves us with the question. What are you here to do?”

Raz shrugged, hoping he wasn’t overdoing his act of unconcern. “He mentioned something about bringing you food, and wanting to see if your guest was still alive and well.”

Mercator narrowed his eyes. “Yes. He seemed quite upset about one random human,” the giant rubbed his clawed fingers over a fresh scar in the center of his chest, “quite upset indeed.”

Nope, let’s nip that thought in the bud!

“Well, I suppose I should tell you. Humans are generally unhappy about other humans being mistreated.” Raz replied.

Mercator looked at him with confusion writ large on his face. “You believe that. And yet, all the tales my mentor told were of a very different people. To hear him tell it, you humans have war in your very blood. If you weren’t so small, weak, and, above all, tasty, we might have taken your kind into the Megiror. In as much as it is possible to respect your food, he respected humans.”

Well, isn’t that lovely. A lot to unpack there.

Raz nodded, as if he understood. “Well, if you bring the human out, I can be on my way and leave you to your day.”

Mercator simply looked at him. “Hmm.” The low tone made even this sound of consideration sound menacing.

“No need to rush off so soon. Can I offer you some food, or perhaps you’ll join me in a game? I know several games. Perhaps I can teach you how to play a game of my own creation. I call it, ‘Four in a Row’. I should warn you. It is difficult to learn, and even harder to master.”

Yeah, you totally invented Connect Four. Gonna claim checkers and tic-tac-toe while you’re at it?

Still keeping himself ready to fight, ready to activate Quantum Blade, ready to find out what it does the hard way, Raz shook his head with mock regret. “Oh yes. I would very much enjoy a nice game,” anywhere but here, with anyone else, “Sadly, right now I have somewhere else I need to be,” out of here, as soon as possible! “But next time we should definitely play some games,” please let there not be a next time.

The giant seemed confused. “I sense you’re not being completely honest. Explain yourself!”

[Ability in progress decoded.]

[Beachhead: Remaining time: ~2367 hours.]

Raz filed that away as he tried to come up with something to satisfy the giant. “Uh, well, you see, learning new games can be difficult. I am sure your game is… something I’d like to see, but I often feel like I don’t know all the rules.” Of this encounter.

The giant gave a surprisingly sincere, sympathetic nod. “I understand. I too have trouble learning new games. If anyone ever tries to teach you a game called ‘chess’, you should simply kill them. It is less a game than an insanely complicated series of nonsensical rules. I do not like it,” Mercator scratched at one of his fresh scars with what might have been a contemplative look on his inhuman face, “I suppose I could show you my guest,” another evil smile filled his face, “Of course, it would be so much more fun to play you for it.”

This feels like something that’s going to go horribly wrong. Bee, what do we know about this whole puncturing of a destructible reality threshold?

[I never said puncturing. I said rupture. You’re imagining this as a sort of balloon that might be popped. Which, to be fair, is probably not a bad analogy. I am digging for answers, but I haven’t even found any notes on destructible reality thresholds aside from those connected to Quantum Blade.]

What do you think will happen if I use it? Will this place just pop, and everything and everyone inside be sucked away into the… nothing? What would be outside reality?

[I suspect we do not want to find out. As for what will happen, the notes imply that without Quantum Blade, trying to access White Fire or any cut off ability invokes a sort of contest, winner take all, between your power and the power of the one who constructed the barrier.]

That sounds very bad. I suspect I’d lose that contest. Everything I’ve heard and now see—

“Stop staring at me like one who has suffered an unfortunate injury to the head!” Mercator bellowed, his deep shout booming through the room. Raz idly noticed that whatever was translating for him must have trouble with idiom, as Mercator hadn’t said nearly that many words.

“Ah, yes, I will play you,” Raz began, frantically marshalling his thoughts, “However, it is my custom to plainly spell out all the rules ahead of time,” What are you doing? He’s not going to follow the rules! “Does that meet with your,” a sudden swelling in his throat forced Raz to swallow before continuing, “agreement?”

[The addition of Quantum Blade changes the contest. Each attempt becomes a damaging attack on the barrier. Turning even a total lockout into an ablative barrier you can break down and overcome, given enough time.]

Midnight said he was pretty fast, not sure how much time I’ll have. Better than nothing, I guess.

Mercator idly scratched around the base of one of his horns, the movement driving home how different his proportions were, as his hands looked bigger than his head. “Explain. What do you mean by agreeing to the rules?”

Probably not the time to mention alternate rulesets or play styles.

“Well, the details of the stakes. We are playing for something, are we not?” Raz said.

The giant leaned forward on his throne. “Yes,” he said, drawing the word out like a hissing snake, “The wager. Do you come seeking treasure, or is there something else you would have of me?”

Treasure? What kind of treasure would a demon from another reality have?

A small, shameful part of him was momentarily distracted by the mention of treasure. He shoved the thought away and focused on what he’d come for. “I’m sure your treasure is amazing, but I’ve come to bring the humans home,” thinking of what Midnight had said about Mercator’s views on guests, he added “I’m sure you’ve been a good host, but clearly, every guest must at some point depart, lest they overstay their welcome.” Hope I’m not laying it on too thick.

Mercator’s face contorted into an unsettling toothy smile. “Very well. What will you wager?” He looked at the weapon in Raz’s grip and chuckled, the low sound rumbling through the room. “I hope you didn’t plan to offer up that bauble. I have no need for such a tiny thing.”

It’s obvious where this is going. He’s going to want to play for my life.

“Well, as guests, I’m sure they are free to leave at any time. So given that, what would you have me wager?” Raz replied, alert for any sudden attack.

“Indeed. Any guest is free to leave at any time. But why would they choose to leave with you?” Mercator countered, “Sending a guest away with an unknown human is hardly the act of a good host.”

Raz stood there in silence. Suddenly he realized the low thumping sound he’d been hearing had to be Mercator’s heart. Wow, guess a big guy like him has a big ticker.

Finally, Mercator relented. “Very well. Will you wager your status as a champion of Earth?”

Hah, if only you knew how few people think I’m a champion of anything.

“An interesting thought. What would be the outcome of losing that status?” Raz wondered aloud.

I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

Mercator shrugged and lifted his vast hands in a gesture of uncertainty. “Well, as a declared champion, there are rules of conduct I am bound to follow. I know you are strong enough to be a champion, as you were able to make it here without being pulled into my–guest housing. So, other than that, if you were not a declared champion, none of the rules would apply to you.”

This has to be a trap somehow. From what Midnight said, it didn’t sound like he’s all that big on rules. Or maybe some of these rules are keeping me safe, and losing that status means he can just attack.

“So, you want to wager my status as a champion, against you allowing me to leave with your guest, free and unharmed?” Raz asked, sure there was a trick in the making.

Mercator suddenly scowled. “I would never harm a guest! Only those who have broken the trust between host and guest would ever be harmed. As for you leaving free and unharmed, if you’re a champion, and you don’t make yourself an enemy, attacking you unprovoked would be wrong.”

No way, this isn’t some kind of trick. I just don’t see it yet. Or it's all bullshit, and he’s just waiting for me to let my guard down to sucker punch me.

“Alright, just so I’m clear, your wager is that you’ll allow me to take your guest back with me, including safe passage out of your home, and I’m wagering my status of a champion? This seems like a bad deal for me.”

Can’t look too eager. The last thing I need is him sniffing out some kind of leverage.

Mercator sighed, a low metallic sound. “What more would you have of me?”

“Wisdom. I want to ask you some questions about why you’re here.”

The giant nodded, his pale milky horns glinting in the light. “Very well. I will answer one question, to the best of my ability.”

“Make it two and you’ve got a deal.”

I have a bad feeling about this.

Mercator’s nose curled upward in a way that human noses don’t move. “Are you a champion, or a merchant!?” he bellowed as he surged to his feet.

Instantly, Raz dropped into slowtime and reached for White Fire. A series of identical messages flowed by.

[White Fire unavailable. Quantum Blade has damaged a destructible reality threshold. Warning, disrupting a reality threshold from the inside is extremely hazardous.]

The message occurred dozens of times in the second he tried to draw on White Fire. The entire hall around them shuddered. It was a small thing, a vibration scarcely noticeable, but Mercator’s eyes widened in alarm as he fell back into his seat and gripped his throne tightly, wide eyes darting around the chamber.

Raz stopped pulling at White Fire. The shaking stopped immediately. Mercator looked at him with a cunning appraisal that didn’t sit well with him at all.

Can’t relax, even for a second. Call me pessimistic, but I just know this is going to turn into a fight one way or another.