《The System Slaves》Prologue
Advertisement
Once again the sun rises over the mountain on which I sit, a place I have sat for hundreds upon hundreds of years now, ever since I found that I actually prefer the silence of solitude instead of the buzz of life down below.
It was hard the first couple centuries, for in solitude you must come to terms with your something hard for me. I had had to confront all those things I had done wrong and defeat them, I had to defeat crushing loneliness, I had to try to save my race while sitting upon a mountain.
I have come out stronger for it.
I look at the sun and sigh, years upon years, decades upon decades, millennia upon millennia. All of it is coming to an end. All of it, all of the bloodshed, the betrayal, the burning cities, mourning families, all of it was coming to a close. The corruption, the sickness, the madness, it was all going to end, for the final quest was close to fulfilment. The quest that would either damn your {Race} or the quest that would save it.
It brings back memories of the past when the final quest wasn’t yet issued. When we were all just trying to do the best we could in this new world. Those were good times when I didn’t worry about anything except killing monsters, gaining levels, and saving whoever was in distress.
It also brings back memories of the slaughter that I did, of the children I killed in the name of the Warlord. My sins are hard to bear, even after all these years of meditating... they will weigh on my forever.
I sigh once more, dwelling in the past accomplishes nothing. I stare into the sun and wonder why it was me that was chosen all those years ago, why it was me that had to bear the burden of saving my {Race}.
I stare into the sun and prepare myself for what is about to come. I had not fought in centuries but the final test was coming and blood would have to flow. It may even be my own. I can only hope that I would do enough to save my race from enslavement, enough to at least keep them sentient, enough, maybe, to let them roam free.
It was going to end today. I would fight, and whether I won or lost, I would be able to roam free afterwards, whether it was in the afterlife or through the galaxy.
I could already feel their signatures climbing the mountain, the signatures of my opponents, I position myself at the very highest point of the mountain, the real peak, close my eyes and breathe in. I feel the suns rays touch my skin and give me power, welcoming me. It was a shame that I could no longer welcome them as they welcomed me.
Advertisement
I look up and take in the beautiful sight, the sight of the sun rising over the world, a world that took the sun for granted, that couldn’t recognise the beauty of it. It is only I that can truly appreciate it.
It paints the sky a mural of colours, pink, orange, mixing to create a picture of beauty that could hardly be matched. It blended them so perfectly together and when it met the vibrant blue of the sky? It created perfection. This used to be my favourite part of the day all those years ago when I first came and secluded myself. Now though? I was desensitised. No longer did the sun call to me as it used too.
I continue to look at the sun and bask in its warmth, drawing strength from it, drawing {Power} I can only hope that it would be enough, for if I failed now then I would fail all of my {Race} I am one of the last Trolls here, and I am by far the most powerful. Still, though, I cannot be sure if I could succeed against the foes that were coming for me, or at least succeed without destroying the world on which I stood and damning my race along with it.
Whatever the case.
It was going to end today.
I draw my weapon, a morningstar, I bring it close to my lips and whisper its name. {Sunrise} it flares and draws the power from the energy that surrounded it. I lay it in my lap, my keepsake, my heirloom, my inheritance.
Yet, it would not be {Sunrise} that would win this battle. It would be the power of Perfection and the power of Beauty that would give me victory. I channel my power and my eyes began to glow, I feel the power coalescing around me, felt it form into armour.
I’m not going down easily.
Not today.
Not ever.
My {Race} depends on it.
I feel the hostile presences come up behind me, settling down and staring up at the sun. They also, seem to understand the moment, the calm before the storm. A good memory to remember when the weight of what you have done comes crashing down on you.
I feel them draw their weapons. I smirk, it seemed that they had not comprehended as much as I had realised, only those who had not understood some of the greater mysteries still needed weapons.
They might just be old fashioned, or maybe their weapons are imbued with their path. Whatever the case though, it seems that they are using them.
I continue to sit. Looking at the sun, and waiting for the end.
I feel them talk amongst themselves, probably debating whether it was honourable to kill a man who does not fight back.
Advertisement
It seems they still do not realise that they had left honour behind long ago, we all did.
One of them steps forward with a shrug and casually swiped down at my head. I let it hit my skin and grin as it shatters, I feel the shock as it emanates off him in waves. He would need a lot more than a {Mythical} weapon to break my skin.
I concentrate and channel the Beauty that is the sun, I manipulate it and send it smashing down on the poor soul who dared to strike me.
I squash him like a bug, there was no need for finesse or even a degree of power control, I take it from the sun and destroy him.
I ignore the system prompt about how I brought about the failure of an entire race and continue staring at the sun, I had done much worse in my time here.
The feelings of outrage that are streaming off of the rest of the group are so powerful I can practically see them. It seems that this group was close.
The rest of the three came at me simultaneously, aiming so that all their strokes would hit different areas of my body, and making sure that should I dodge none of their strokes would hit each other.
I let them all land, and laugh as they all bounce off. Do they truly think that those could affect me? Trolls have notoriously strong hides. They are much too arrogant, and for this, they would pay.
I lash out and gouge deep grooves into one of their chests, I see one of the others glow and the gouges heal over.
I sigh, it would not be against these that I would die today.
….
I fight against ten now, the mountain where we once stood is now reduced to ashes. The three had called for back up and back up had come. I see a flash of light in the distance it seems that fights like mine are happening all over, everyone fighting so that their race might live free.
….
Only five remain now, and I am flagging. I thought that it would end in a day…. Oh, how wrong I was.
….
I have killed another ten that had just arrived from another fight, and once again I am back down to five enemies. My skin is covered cuts, small, long, and large, so many that my regeneration can barely keep up with it. It is then that I see another twenty figures land in front of me. If my will was not broken before, then this has shattered it, still, I will not use my overload ability.
I continue to fight, slaughtering lesser being after lesser being, I do not regret spending so much time up on my mountain but it put me behind when it came to saving my race.
Hours turned to days, turned to weeks. All of us were tired by this point. Heads were rolling, corpses gushing out blood, if we were all still mortal the amount of blood would have us slipping,
I strike down the person who I thought was the last of my enemies. I look up and see another hundred foes land. It seems that I have no choice. It seems that I must use the forbidden power. It seems I must use, the complete power of perfection, the only way to save my race is by destroying this planet.
And all those on it.
I channel huge amounts of perfection, I feel my very body start to tear at the seams, a body is not meant to channel that much power, even a body as strong as mine.
I look at the sun once more, remembering.
Then I give my body, letting it disintegrate to power the once spell that would save those who would come after. I can see the sun no longer. I can sense it though, for my soul is still present.
It warms me, in all my years of loneliness it was the one thing that I could rely on to be there. A friend. The power rips at my soul and I realise that I will never see the sun again. For when you give up your soul there is no afterlife. No afterlife except eternal darkness.
I realise that I care not. I am tired of this world, and darkness eternal doesn't seem so bad.
I give up my soul, letting the rays of the sun warm it one last time. At least I will die in the presence of the one thing that never hurt me. I will die happy, for I will die with a friend.
I draw on the power of the sun next, and then...release all the energy stored. Perhaps this will give my Race a chance. A chance to thrive. A chance to live in a world free from the horror that I endured.
I welcome the abyss and the rest that it offers, I let myself fade, fade, and let the burden drop from shoulders. Fade, and maybe find some peace and rest away from this bloodthirsty world.
Advertisement
- In Serial178 Chapters
Oblivion Online (complete)
Thanks for permission to use the cover by WanderingInPixels over on Deviant Art. As of 12-15-18, the story is finished. I am planning to edit and will release the books as I finish in one big go, but there isn't a timeline on any of that. Marty had a fairly easy life as a cook for Arctic Storm Entertainment headquarters when he gets an offer from the company to try out a new playstyle for their biggest VRMMORPG, Oblivion Online. Follow him as he makes his way through the game as one of the monster races trying to survive against the forces of light. Author's note: I will update every Monday and Friday for sure, with the possibilities of bonus chapters through the week if I get extra writing done. I also did a disservice to several of my characters early on. I'm slowly working through a re-write, but it will be a while as I want to make sure I get it right this time around.
8 137 - In Serial82 Chapters
A Martial Odyssey
Our community discord. With one step, an ocean is crossed. With one swing, an immortal is slain. Grisla Orlith's name has been in contention for centuries; millenia. Has he ever existed? Is it true about him? They hear of the future, but they don't know his past. Assumed as a genius from heaven, a warrior without peer. But back then, from those that knew of him... only saw a worthless boy. [Adventure, Wuxia, Martial Arts, Fantasy] For those not in the know, this is a book with some western and eastern fantasy sprinkled in. This is a work coming from someone who's a long time fan of the genre and would like to add my own flavor and spin to it, and I particularly dislike the shallow xianxia characterization and development. To counteract that is about eighty percent of the reason I'm writing this. The beginning might be a slow burn but I promise I'm bringing up some awesome scenes and moments once you're invested. Again, this is not some fast food xianxia. But I can say that as a lover of the genre I won't be completely shying away from the stuff that got myself hooked into it in the first place. DISCORD NOW AVAILABILE!
8 204 - In Serial488 Chapters
Undetermined
Death and Taxes. The two insurpassable laws of the universe. So long as humans exist in this world, these things will remain. However, there is a 3rd law which has always, and will always implement itself on people. Suffering. Reincarnated in a new world, five people are forced to learn this the hard way. Placed on 'Nightmare mode' and being reincarnated as monsters, they are forced to survive under incomprehensible conditions. However it is only through suffering, that we grow as people. And it is only through suffering, that we truly become monsters. "Nightmare mode.... eh? Tell me, what exactly was this mode supposed to mean again? Were our lives supposed to become nightmares?" Without suffering, there is no change in anything. "Or were we supposed to become the nightmares?" This is the story of the antiheroes. [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
8 334 - In Serial7 Chapters
Toothpick
“Hello! My humble audience! I, the Bard of the North, am going to tell you a tale. Nothing new, nothing old. A story of a hero, some may say, others a poor boy who was hated by the world.” The storyteller paused as he waited, right timing was everything when telling a story. Pacing… Too slow and the audience became bored then left without tossing even the smallest of coins. If he spoke too fast and rushed the story. It would leave the audience confused and having no reason to be impressed. So like any good storyteller, the Bard has to do a balancing act of sorts. Not too slow, not too fast. Just perfectly in the middle. “In a shattered country in the south, a novice princeling has the ambition to mend a torn tapestry that is his birthplace. Struggling to fend off those who would usurp the throne in an unending civil war spanning centuries. A mercenary that left only death in his wake, unable to stave off the monotony and peace of life. He looks back at the path laden with bodies, wondering if it was all worth it. Wandering souls summoned by a madman, travel away from a wasteland in a foreign land, the first alone, the others as companions. A deity, ancient in her years, waiting to be freed from a duty she no longer enjoys. For all these people and their stories, none are the hero of this tale. No, the hero is not grand, not wise, not ready.. he was punished for nothing of his doing, who was an outcast that was unloved by many, including his father.” This was always the big reveal novices use to jump off into their story. He did not start here, instead, like any good fishermen, he set the bait and waited until the fish bit before pulling. As he saw the audience's eyes focus, he then started the backstory. The harness, that stopped the listeners from having metaphorical whiplash. The foreshadowing. “But that is not where the story starts. No, not even the hero's birth. Where the story begins, is the boredom of the deity, a deity many know of. She who hunts for the impossible, the guide for those who have lost the path, the Huntress of Mallon--” A small pause, a short breath. “--All old names for a single powerful being that has roamed the grounds of this continent longer than any line of kings or queens, lords or ladies. A being of worship for many an individual…” One last breath. And he began singing the first verse.
8 289 - In Serial33 Chapters
Tearha: Queens of Camelot
Following the lost of the leader of Wendereight, a serial killing case in the town of Grimmel unravels into a tale of politics and intrigue as the lost race of lizardkins returns. Slowly, the secret rulers of the Tinderland Consolidates around Artria Pendragon and Morganna Dresden. The two Knights of the Round ends up standing between a genocide and the fall of an empire.
8 194 - In Serial65 Chapters
The Devil // Eddie Munson Stranger Things
𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝙸'𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎.𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝟻:𝟺𝟻𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗.𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜.𝙾𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜?𝙹𝚞𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛... 𝙰 𝚌𝚊𝚛-𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛...Everyone said to stay away from Eddie Munson. He was the geeky freak of the town. They all warned her about that Devil worshiper of Hawkins, Indiana and the last thing Lennon Seagrave needed was to associate herself with a suspected murderer... Again. But how was she supposed to stay away from the only person that made her feel safe? Some would call it manipulation, others would call it mind-control or witchcraft, but the devil works in mysterious ways and he's inside everyone. But maybe Lennon should have listened when everyone told her not to let the devil take her out for dinner...
8 127

