Gravetower Page 5

  “Sealed gates?” Redemption asks.

  “One of our forbidden realms. The one he’s attempting to enter appears to be one we’ve sealed off using our magitech, making it impossible to enter without the use of our gate.”

  “Do you know where he’s trying to go?”

  “He’s saying dimension 4,883,992, which just so happens to be the dimension we expect Oa to be in. We believe Chaos somehow has knowledge of this, and is moving in to kill it.”

  There’s a short pause as Order looks away. “The High Tea…. He must have asked for Oa’s location.”

  Redemption shakes his head. “That’s impossible.”

  “And yet so it is.” Ywn looks aside a second as if in thought. “He has now opened the way to the gate and he and his group have traveled through… it’s only natural to assume he’s out for Oa’s life, don’t you think so?”

  Redemption’s features sharpen grimly. “Chaos would be… petty enough to hunt down another monster, I suppose.”

  Glory sighs. “Yeah, because last time we checked Chaos loves helping us poor folk out by killing necromancers, namely the most important one of all.” He says this with no small percentage of sarcasm, of course.

  Order shakes her head gently as Ywn coos thoughtfully. “Either way,” he starts, “I will let you follow him.”

  Redemption looks back up to the figure wrapped in the light of human achievement. “That’s gracious of you.”

  “On a condition, naturally.”

  Redemption takes a breath. “How may we be of assistance to you?”

  “I’ve… to be quite frank I’ve held a long interest in Oa. I have reason to believe that his prime phylactery is actually something of great value to me… just a glance of her, really….”

  “Excuse me?” Redemption asks.

  Ywn sighs. “I’ll put it this way— take one of my librarians with you, ensure he collects Oa’s prime phylactery, and he will take care of the rest.”

  “What are ya’ plannin’ with ‘em?” Glory asks pointedly.

  The nebulous ethers surrounding Ywn darken slightly. “Now, how could such a thing interest you?”

  Glory opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it.

  Ywn scoffs with parental sweetness. “You know, while you’re at it, bring that young interloper Meeo Letlind to me.”

  Order bates her breath. “…What?”

  “I obviously don’t expect you to bring Chaos here for me, but she… she understands quite a bit about a certain style of ethermancy… realmancy I believe you people call it. I must know more, it’s utterly fascinating. You will bring her low and my librarian will spirit her back here as well.”

  Order almost reaches up to lift her visor, but if she did, she knows she would stare right into Ywn’s old, evil heart. There are words for the immense disrespect she is feeling, that Ywn would take from her the satisfaction so immensely, immeasurably hers— but worse than that, she is agreeing to trade an old, dear friend for passage. The bridge may be beautiful, but she can spot a counting troll when she sees one. Redemption is failing to speak, no doubt out of respect for her wishes.

  “Prime Curator,” Order says with dutiful enthusiasm. “You will have your prizes. We accept your terms.”

  At once, the atmosphere lightens, and the silhouette stands tall. “How lovely. I trust that, as knights, you are good at your word and no contract will be necessary?”

  Order’s features darken. “Naturally, the knights of today are just as noble as those from your age.”

  Ywn beats down a muffled scoff. “Ahh, yes of course you are…. Librarian Caefern.”

  From the doors behind them emerges the team leader from earlier. He does not drop to his knees as Ywn’s almost deity-like composure would recommend, but his salute is sharp as a cut from the Kingdom Slayer. “First Librarian Caefern reporting to the Prime Curator, my lord.”

  “Take with you situation kit 392,448 and commit to my wishes.”

  Without moving from his salute, Caefern responds. “To you, it will seem as only a moment has passed before both object and person are in your hands.”

  Ywn nods as the doors are lain open. “Leave me,” he commands.

  The knights bow out with Nias and Caefern, leaving Ywn to himself and his multitude of unknown, unspoken projects. He opens up a comm link to an unknown person. “And it should go without saying that you will initiate reaction 13 the moment all class 4 P.O.I.s are unable to act counter to it… Very good… Rondi at the highest.” At that short exchange, he turns back to the swirling amalgam of light that bends off far into the distance.

  Chapter Three: Entry into a Planetary Graveyard

  It’s in a calm fir pine grove that our heroes emerge.

  Librarian Jaise, guarding the other end of the gate with his team, starts up from his desk in the small camp next to the space gate.

  “The hell? Amat.”

  Operator Amat jolts into full consciousness from his slouched position on his own desk. “Sir?”

  “The space gate's opened,” he says this nodding his head over to the gate, the hollow entry filled with pulsing, swirling light.

  “Yes it did, sir.”

  Jaise sighs. “Well?”

  “Oh, right,” Amat picks up the roster for planned travels to the dimension. “… Oh shit.”

  “What?”

  “There’s nothing planned all week. Someone really screwed it this time.”

  “Goddess’ sakes,” Jaise gets to his feet and struts for the gate. He simply can’t believe the dispatch team on duty would be so brainless as to travel through the incorrect forbidden gate. As a group of figures emerge from the gate’s vortex, he takes initiative and speaks up. “Hey, assholes. Don’t you know protocol for connecting gates? Pretty sure that’s only super….” He stops, seeing the silhouette in the portal gain definition and shape. The piercingly-sharp antennae of a certain high overlord is clearly drawn out. “Hah… Yeah, very funny guys. Good prank. You kids need to turn right the hell around and… Oh…”

  From the portal steps the elegance of his Ultimate Powerfulness, along with his entire group of minions and humans, each perfectly unharmed, if a bit out of breath. “But sir,” Chaos says, now directly in front of the librarian. “We have only just arrived!”

  Jaise stares blankly into Chaos. “W-w-w-well w-we weren’t expecting… visitors.”

  “That’s right,” Chaos leaning over the fully-suited man. “We’re a few rowdy tourists here for a good time. Pray thee point us in the direction of Oa?”

  “Wh-…” He looks around. “Oa is… that… way,” he says pointing over in a random direction weakly.

  Aoline scoffs. “Ha! As if we’d believe your lies.”

  Chaos squints his eyes, as if to focus; it’s rare that he has to do this. After a few moments, he nods. “Ahh, so it is. Perhaps you faceless librarian types are not so bad after all.”

  Aoline jolts alongside Jaise. “Wh-wait, what?”

  “Oa… Oa is that way?” The two mutter as Love and the minions simply smile along pleasantly.

  Chaos looks into the wood once more to double check. “Our necromancer is certainly towards the mountains. I expect a full day’s travel, maybe a bit more.”

  Jaise nods with careful slowness. “Why… yes, yes you must exercise, caution… my lord. The road is fraught with undead cultists.”

  Chaos nods back, stepping away from the gate and to the wood. “Thank you for your concern. I wish you a good day.”

  Jaise waves goodbye to the group of six, while watched by a dumbfounded fireteam hiding behind a set of crate next to their tents.

  Ranger Minion, tan beret curled snugly over his right eye, clears his gravelly throat. “Want me to out ‘em, sir? They’ll tell the knights.”

  Chaos shrugs. “That is perfectly fine, dear marksman. Order could parse me out like a needle from a dimension stuffed to the brim with hay. I say let them go with good will.”

  Dark Arts Minion hums,
admiring the trees, surprisingly cozy for a fabled land of necromancers. “Couldn’t we at least turn off the space gate? I’m sure it would spare us a few minutes at least.”

  Chaos shakes his head. “I’m afraid that also will not do. Those O.E.L. types may be… a tad bureaucratic, but they are not cruel people.”

  “Pretty sure you’re number one on their Omniverse wanted list,” she says with a long smile.

  The pitch black overlord draws back in surprise as a look of consideration crosses his features. “Are you… are you quite certain? That gentleman seemed quite polite.”

  There’s an awkward glancing about between the minions. “Sir, you’re lapsing again,” Ranger Minion says.

  “Get a hang of yourself, Poppi!”

  Aoline looks over to Love with full bewilderment. “What’s going on?” she whispers to her elder.

  Love smiles sweetly as she leans over to whisper back. “He can be a tad forgetful at times.”

  Aoline nods in understanding. “Guess that comes with the territory of having millenniums-worth of knowledge, right?”

  Meeo nods softly. “We’ll put it like that, yes.” She says this just before turning back to Dark Arts Minion. “Regardless. I am of the opinion the O.E.L. have no right to be here.” Then she turns to Chaos. “—not that we shouldn’t let them go, of course.”

  Chaos chuckles darkly, the dreary sun shimmers bluntly through the dense clouds. “We have no right to be here either, except… wait no, yes we do. I am the true High Overlord, after all.”

  “Precisely,” Love reinforces, “So in that consideration we might as well finish up what we came here to do and ignore them. We have a timeline to meet, after all.”

  Chaos slows his trot a moment to consider it. “Ahh, but then who will I taunt after killing Oa? Oa will be dead. I’ll need at least one enemy nearby. This is a matter of honor, you understand. I simply cannot let Order get away from seeing me slay it.”

  Love curtly bows her head with a hint of that quiet, calm sweetness she is so well known for. She’s overjoyed he’s so easy to persuade. “So be it, my lord. I trust your judgment whole-heartedly.”

  Chaos nods in appreciation. “As a good Friendion should, I suppose. Now then, let’s pick up the pace. After all, who knows how quickly those knights will be on our tail. Scout Minion.”

  Dark Arts Minion sighs gently as Scout Minion salutes goofily. “Yeah, Poppi?”

  “Scout ahead and keep me updated with the path. Head us for the solitary peak.”

  “You got it!” At that, Scout Minion blips from Aoline’s sight in but a slim second.

  “Amazing,” Aoline mutters. “You’re all so… strong.”

  Chaos’ grin is magnificent and all-encompassing as he leans into a stride. “One who dreams of saving the world has to be strong, in one way or another. Now let us make travel. Onward to the living mountain!”

  “Yes, master.”

  “On your six, sir.”

  “Okie doke.”

  “Alright!” The four respond as they simultaneously pick up the pace into a strong, magically-charged sprint, reaching cheetah-like speeds in but a matter of seconds.

  Aoline’s never felt this way before, and it’s great. There’s a certain quality one feels when their inhibitions are suddenly removed, like breathing cool, fresh air for the very first time. She was thrilled to go on her first mission with the knights to Liefland, but the tiring walk in a group does not even compare to this. As the group folds and darts through valley, glade and grove, she feels more a part of this group than with anything or anyone else. Before her thoughts turn over entirely, they reach Scout Minion, standing atop a tree branch with a smile.

  “Necromancers, Poppi!”

  “Already?” Aoline asks with a hint of surprise.

  Dark Arts Minion nods thoughtfully. “I was certain I was feeling something wrong. It’s difficult considering the amount of them underground.”

  Chaos grins. “So you’ve noticed too?” he asks as they slow their pace to a walk.

  Love whistles as she pulls up Worldloss’ smooth birch entirety and lays her hand to the string. “I suppose we might as well say hello, mmm?”

  “How many?” Aoline asks, who was just starting to feel like though she could measure up to the people around her for a moment.

  The overlord, who’s lack of true invincibility only emphasizes how immensely skilled he is, chuckles at the question. “Allow me to give you a glimpse.” At that, he holds his hand up to her face, and speaks a single silent word.

  In a flash, a chill rattles down her spine with the violence of a tremor. Directly beneath them, and for miles upon miles in all directions, the ground is littered with dormant necromancers, some buried like corpses, and others in secret interspersed laboratories. In her single glimpse, she sees nothing but their color in the direction of their travel—Oa’s mountain.

  “Gosh,” she says, maybe understating the seriousness just a little better.

  Scout Minion giggles. “ ‘Gosh’ is right, those dingo-butt metal men are everywhere.”

  Dark Arts Minion nods. “This is their headquarters planet after all. My research suggests that Oa stayed here exclusively for centuries, slowly killing off the planet’s population to raise an army of undead.”

  “Metal,” Ranger Minion says, peeking down his sight posts to ensure they’re lining up with his scope as they walk along into a leaner, less-dense part of the wood.

  “You really need to take this seriously, man,” Scout Minion admonishes. “This is definitely our hardest mission ever.”

  Ranger Minion shrugs. “Difficulty isn’t an issue when you have a rifle you’ve maintained yourself. Listen to this.” With a smooth, fast movement, he reaches to the charging handle and pulls back. Aoline recognizes immediately that it’s not a sound from this world— but the immensely-satisfying clockwork-click of the lubricated handle rearing back seems like an almost impossible noise for such a device to make.

  There’s a pause, and Scout Minion shakes her little head. “So?”

  Ranger Minion squints an eye. “So? It’s perfectly maintained. This weapon will never jam.”

  “Yeah it will,” Scout Minion says with a smirk. “If I jam it up your-” She catches herself the moment Chaos fires a parental glare her way. “J-jam it up your… s a n d w i t c h….”

  “Hmm,” Love mutters. Aoline knows by this point that Love has at least five different light, gentle hums in her repertoire of speech, and they all mean different things. This is probably the cringey, put-off hum.

  “Damn, that was lame,” Dark Arts Minion remarks bluntly.

  “Yeah, you better get a room with that stupid pun garbage, Scout,” Ranger adds as the group nears the edge of the wood.

  “Well you guys are lame; and you better get a room with that stupid pun garbage.”

  “Wow,” Dark Arts Minion says, “sick comeback, too.”

  Scout Minion huffs. “Maybe if you-”

  Chaos’ antennae flicks, and the three minions fall silent immediately. Aoline didn’t notice the gesture, so to her it seems like they abruptly just stopped talking for no reason.

  “Eh… What’s wro-”

  “Silence,” Chaos says gently, as if he were tucking her in to sleep.

  Looking around, she notices Ranger Minion is already at the high-point carry with his rifle, Love is gently running her fingers along her bowstring, and Chaos’ gaze is fully focused forward, as if prepared to crush anything that dares present itself back into whatever filthy hole it dares to crawl out of. She gulps down her concern, and enters alert with the others. She takes up her sword, unnamed and entirely standard-issue, and steps forward with the others out of the wood into a dark village of necromancers.

  Immediately, she gets the vibe that this was not a town from before with people, because no one would live in a settlement like this. Spanning out deep into the mist to their forward, left and right are nothing but identical, evenly-spaced, roadless, featurele
ss, wicker-craft houses; each one is pointing the same direction, and of the same, horribly-windowless design. While the appearance of the buildings themselves is eerie, there’s something worse— a silent, though occupied isolation. It is the feeling one has when in a dark room with something else, and they’re not sure what, or where that something is.

  It’s horrifying, and yet she feels little fear. Perhaps it’s just the enchantments, but there’s definitely a part of her that feels like being on Chaos’ good side is practically a guarantee for survival.

  They press on, silent and ready to prove their superiority to the dead-scum of the world. After passing a dozen rows of the buildings, Chaos shakes his head.

  “I would have thought they’d jump at the chance to get at us.”

  Dark Arts Minion offers her thoughts. “I believe they’re hiding, waiting for an opportune time.”

  Aoline coughs. “Are necromancers that smart?”

  Dark Arts Minion nods proudly over to Chaos. “They’d have to be, wishing for more than a second when daring to draw blades at our dark master.”

  “Yeah, Poppi. They’re spooked!” Scout Minion adds.

  “Well…” Chaos taps his razor-sharp finger against his chin. “I feel as though we should collect at least one of them for questioning.”

  Love hums, and Aoline can tell this is the disapproving one. “Oh my, do we need them for that?”

  “Not necessarily, but I figure I’d at least give them the benefit of surrender before I destroy their garbage-bound king.”

  “O-…oh!” Love coos. “That’s very… generous of you.”

  “Yeah, Poppi,” Scout Minion tosses in, “You’re like, the coolest!”

  “Way, way too nice to these guys, dearest master,” Dark Arts Minion says, crudely veiling her displeasure at the idea of sparing necromancers.

  Ranger Minion and Aoline keep quiet, the former of which staying silent during fights, and the latter really having no idea what’s going on.

  “Perhaps to you all it may seem like a good deal of unnecessary trouble, but that extra mile is the one that counts more than all the rest. I am the overlord, after all, and as such I should at least give all creatures the chance that a truly superior life form would.”