Milc/C.J. Milnes
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[B2] Chapter 2 - Draw up a list, check it twice
🕑 Added 2025-02-09 23:45:42 +0000 UTCI woke up - no, this wasn’t reality. Or even the surreal, possibly-a-coma-dream world of Urth I’d grown to accept as my new normal. I was back in Aresk’s realm but this time I couldn’t move anything but my eyes. It had changed, now instead of the giant statue before me I found five unique environments, each seemingly distinct and separate but blending into one at the centre.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe but that mounting sense of panic you get from holding your breath for too long was completely absent. I tried to raise my arms but nothing happened. My eyes rolled around trying to take in my surroundings. I could see my shoulders in my peripheral vision, clad in the bright red tunic of a tribal king. There was a weight on my hip that suggested my new sword was hanging there but I had no way to check.
Let me handle this, little man-killer, Aresk’s voice arrived in my mind as a giant bronze foot passed over my head. The metallic titan strode into the central area where the various realms met and the other gods began to move out to meet him.
Poseidon was a beautiful woman, sea green skin and hair flowing in unearthly curves down to her waist where she became something very different. I didn’t have a frame of reference for her lower half. Perhaps a squid orgy is the closest I can imagine to describe the nest of writhing tentacles that replaced her legs and squirmed as she moved. Mortimer, fat and arrogant seeming as ever, was placed just inside her realm that looked like it was deep underwater and the light from above was filtered by rolling waves.
I lunged at him and nothing happened. I tried to narrow my eyes and glare his way but even that was denied me. Fucking gods. His eyes were flashing around like my own. For a second our gazes met and despite the fact he was immobile just like me I felt the bastard flinch in fear. He wore purple robes under a breastplate made of pitch black metal but wasn’t carrying any weapons.
“What is the meaning of this interference, Scaly-Tits?” demanded Aresk.
“Your champion has found an exploit that must be adjusted for,” Poseidon replied in a burbling voice, as though she were just beneath the surface and she was bubbling her words up to the surface.
“You selected him,” came a voice like falling dust. Death had entered the arena. His own realm was black and rotten, weirdly shaped fungoid growths surrounded the soldier, Marwan. My opponent was dressed like a bloody pirate, eye patch and all. His clothes were ragged but he wore a set of silver chainmail over his body and had a hat tipped at a jaunty angle.
The avatar of Hades, Hadesti on the new world, floated along on a cloud of flies that buzzed and swarmed at the bottom of hollow looking midnight robes. As he came to a stop facing Aresk and Poseidon a rasping chuckle emanated from the impenetrable shadows of his hood.
“Are you complaining that you chose someone too well suited to the game we had planned?” rasped Hades.
“Hardly-” The sea-witch began.
“- absolutely she is!” boomed Aresk as he laughed. “If the little killer had sworn to her this wouldn’t be an issue at all!”
“Shut up you stupid head-basher,” Poseidon snapped and the sense of waves smashing apart rocks briefly rolled across me. “He has found a way to break the game. It requires adjudication!”
“I agree.” Patricia was wearing fine robes, silk perhaps, and a giant man with a jackal’s head stepped over her, leaving a space that looked like a library, lined with neat shelves of books and strange astrolabes . The god was wearing a fine looking suit that would have fit right in on any street in Victorian England. “None of our champions can gather Souls in such a way as to fuel gathering yet more. He will snowball and it must be rebalanced.” I recognised that one. He was the voice that had spoken to me when I was sent to Urth. The one that had guided me through making my first affinity selection while I hung in limbo thinking I was dead.
“C’mon Thoth, that’s hardly fair! All the others have indirect ways of harvesting Souls, Ray is the only one handicapped by having to fight in order to grow stronger,” Aresk replied. That was useful, and slightly terrifying, information to have. If the rest could just farm Souls by talking or whatever I was so far behind the curve I’d never stand a chance of catching up.
“Stop giving him hints, Aresk! Have you no shame? Are there no depths to your rule-breaking?” All the gods were in some way beautiful, perfected beings but this one took my breath away. Or it would have done if I was breathing. Androgyne in a way that made her - him? - look literally divine whatever your preferences might be, the being stepped out of a garden of fruits and trees eating an impossibly perfect apple.
Jeremy, the influencer, was locked in place where the god had started. He wore golden robes and laurels behind his ears. Of all of us he seemed to be taking this the worst. Patricia was only focused on the gods, she looked like she was taking notes in her head as her eyes flicked between them. Mortimer was splitting his gaze across the competition like me but the way his eyes jerked about made it clear he would be changing his trousers if his body wasn’t locked in place.
Poor little Jezza, the social media star back on Earth, had rolled his eyes into his head and seemed to have passed out while fixed in place. These dreams always messed with me, leaving me exhausted when I got back to Urth, but I suspected he was going to feel particularly rough when he woke up. Ha. Good.
“Your champions all heard the same. It was fair, Aphrodite,” Aresk rumbled. “Should I complain about how your champion gets to gain and spend Souls? He hardly seems to be balanc-”
“Nonetheless. Why shouldn’t we curb Ray's growth?” interrupted the embodiment of seduction in a languid tone. “He cannot be permitted to continue to profit from the competition as he has done recently.”
“Because it is a competition, for fucks sake! We agreed the rules of the game before we started and the wavy-haired bitch that recruited them has no standing to change things just because her champion's play failed to take down my little killer. He took his shot and fucked up. He should have tried harder or planned better,” Aresk smirked at Mortimer who joined Jeremy in eye rolling terror.
“There is a simple solution to this,” a new voice joined the clash of the titans in the centre. He was… weird. Old and young at the same time. One second he looked like a young boy, maybe nine years old, and the next he was ninety and leaning on a cane. “We can limit access to purchasing certain items. Put them on a cooldown. Then he can’t fuel his killing sprees by going on killing sprees,” the voice chuckled.
“Kronos, that’s a terrible idea-” snapped Aresk.
“- I like it,” mused Aphrodite. “The main concern is binge shopping, no? If that isn’t possible then the issue is resolved.”
“Like buggery it’s resolved! What about our champions?” snarled Poseidon.
“It must be applied across the board. It seems like the best choice. Unless you want to escalate to a full rewind?” asked the boyish old man.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Thoth. “It always causes glitches later on.”
“I’m happy for Mr. Gallagher to operate under this new paradigm. Shall we vote?” asked Kronos.
Aresk and Poseidon both voted no, the others voted yes and the motion was carried. Shit. I’d just lost my ability to go infinite murderhobo.
“If we’re done here?” asked Aphrodite as they walked back to their own realm and vanished. The other god’s followed suit and soon it was just me and the big bronze bastard I’d sold my soul to. I found I could move again and stretched out my arms.
“That went well!” said Aresk as he shrank back down to become merely Ur-Vile sized and sat on a throne of shields and spears that grew up behind him.
“What the hell do you mean? I’ve been crippled!” I snapped, briefly forgetting myself but a slamming sense of being in a shield wall quickly reminded me who I was yelling at.
“If they’d gone for a rewind you’d have been screwed. You’d have lost most of your forces, probably your captains and wife as well. This way you can stockpile the mana potions. You just bought two hundred of the damn things!” A bronze grin shone down at me. This was true…
“Damn right it’s true! Look kid, you’re doing great but it was never going to be easy. You’ve got a few Souls left over so use them wisely. I do like your plans, securing the north and… well what you’ve got in mind should work out great.” I had just under twenty six thousand Souls left on my account. He wasn’t wrong…
“I knew you’d come round to seeing things my way!”
“Stop reading my mind, it makes having a conversation bloody awkward. Why did you vote against the adjustment then?” I asked, growing more polite in tone as the words left my mouth and the metal face darkened slightly.
“They can’t read my mind, boy. But they can read yours. They think it was a victory over me which works to our advantage.”
“Our?” I asked.
“Our. You don’t know what the stakes are for us immortals. You only know the stakes for tiny little you, which are fucking trifling in comparison. Tying ourselves to a champion comes with risks. Usually the potential advantages outweigh them but if you gamble and lose… I’ve been playing these games since before your great grandad to the Nth degree thought it would be a good idea to drag your grandma behind a bush for some rumpy pumpy. You’ll just have to trust me.”
“Trust cuts both ways.”
“How have I not trusted you? I’ve let you get on with it as you saw fit!” Aresk genuinely sounded slightly wounded.
“Your mark messes with my head as well as affecting your followers. I’m not sure if I’m still me,” I said flatly. Were my feelings for the tribe, even for Fay, something implanted in my mind and meant to control me?
“It does but not like you think. Some things will come more naturally to you than they would have done otherwise. Love of your tribe, your warriors. You were a bit of a sociopath at the start, you know? A well socialised and highly controlled one for sure but normal people tend to feel bad about hurting and killing living things. I had nothing to do with your wife, that one’s all you, lad. Still, It’s good, eh?” his booming laughter shook my body. I couldn’t disagree.
“What are the stakes for you? If I knew what I was playing for it might help me fight more effectively.” It was a long shot but I couldn’t resist fishing for more information.
“Hah. Nope. All I’d say is you need to draw up a list, check it twice, then murder every last motherfucker on it who isn’t nice!” More earth shaking laughter.
“Can’t blame a bloke for trying!” I grinned. “So mana potions are now on a timer? One potion a week? One of each level of potion maybe?” I asked hopefully.
“Now you’re getting it. Not just mana potions, all consumables related to battle as well. No more spamming health potions for the fighter and the soldier! They think I'm just a brute. Head Smasher. That’s what Fish Breath calls me and the others think much the same.” His voice was slightly bitter as he said the last part. “It’s easy to forget that war isn’t just about breaking heads and I must confess I play up to that perception as often as possible.” Another bronze smile shone down at me.
“So no health potions for people to cover for those who didn’t take the Life affinity?” I wondered aloud.
“You aren’t as stupid as you look! That and poisons. The three main categories of battle-consumables are now limited and most - ANZZGSJKJNDBZZZZ - shit it won’t let me tell you that.” The bronze man shrugged. “Even we still have to follow the rules. Look Ray, it works more in your favour than against you, ok? Like I said: trust me.” I was treated to another gleaming grin.
“What’s my next move?” I asked. “Can you advise on that?”
“Your plan is good, kid. Deal with the threats to the north then sweep the steppe. By the time that’s done Ole Morty will have reorganised but you’ll be in a much better position to deal with him.”
“What affinities does he have?” I asked.
“Can’t tell you that, lad. You’ve seen what he has available to him from the wizard rings and whatnot so work it out yourself.”
“How did he get the zombies into position without disturbing the ground?” I asked.
“They dug their way in from a long way away, of course. They don’t need to eat, breathe or sleep. You’d be surprised how useful the undead can be. You might want to bear that in mind for the future.” The statue rose to his feet and the throne melted away behind him. The weapons and shields arrayed around us on pedestals seemed to gleam in the light but the shadows didn’t move.
“I’m pleased with you, kid. I’ll offer you another boon as a reward. Get to level one hundred and I’ll give you a throwback you'll appreciate. It will be... shiny. Nice choice on the sword by the way. It’s a good look. A couple of games ago we included firearms and that was a lot of fun, really juicy aesthetics, but nothing looks quite as good as a mounted charge with swords and spears, eh?”
“There’s ancient firearms on Urth?” I gasped.
“Nah. They got edited out for this run. But explosives are well within the powers of an enterprising chemist… You have fun kiddo! I’m looking forward to seeing what you do next!” A bronze hand waved down at me as the giant smirked and I found myself once again floating back in the bodiless limbo for a moment.
My eyes snapped open and Fay shifted against me as I sat bolt upright. I had a list to make and I knew who wouldn’t make it into the “nice” category.
Comments
Milc
Thanks! Glad you’re enjoying it!
Caspian
Excellent as always
