In the periphery of my hearing, I noticed sounds of rapid footsteps, someone running. Two people were running. Facing it, I imagined they were survivors, so I didn't really put up too much of a guard.
From out of the fog came forth Mash and… the little shit.
"SENPAI!" Mash yelled as she rushed forward, engulfing Ritsuka in a bear hug that caused him to tumble to the ground, falling right on his bum.
"Oof." Mash sobbed into his shoulder. Her arms were wrapped so tightly around the teen's shoulder, so much so that… I noticed the look on Ritsuka's face, his hands inches away from touching Mash, and he looked torn between wanting to get out of that situation and letting it continue. Was he uncomfortable with Mash's closeness?
"I'm so sorry, Senpai!"
While this reunion was happening, my mind wandered elsewhere. I glanced at the little shit clad in her usual gothic dress. I thought about what she said, about how those children who die abandoned and unloved are thrown into that eternal abyss.
That didn't make sense. That was wrong.
If I remember correctly, wasn't… wasn't the reason why true resurrection requires True Magic to enact because souls are returned to the Root? The place beyond time and space where all phenomena emerge from, the source of existence. If that were the case, then wouldn't those souls return to the Root and then be recycled, reincarnated as new, unburdened by memories of the past life? So the Rat King shouldn't even exist.
But, I couldn't deny the happenings around me. I glanced at the puddle of blood nearby, the remains of that horde of werewolves and human scorpions splattered all over the place. Chunks of flesh and viscera were scattered on the ground, and others upon walls that were painted red. I wasn't too careful when I ran through them all like a train.
I recalled the sheer mind-breaking horror the Rat King inflicted upon Ritsuka. That couldn't be faked, no matter how good of an actor you were.
Just what is going on? What could have caused all this? My arms crossed themselves, the little shit was Ritsuka's Servant and swore to tell the truth. I approached her, "Just what is the Rat King?"
"'Tis a doorway, made for a God—" The little shit's hands came together as if she held a ball, "It doth glut itself upon corpses, and when it hath grown fat with flesh and blood, the Prophet— the Key— shall offer it up in sacrifice. With that final offering, a gateway shall be torn wide, and through it shall the Nameless God descend into this world. The Rite of Descension, a most blasphemous ritual."
"The Nameless God?"
The little shit leaned forward and then asked, "Dost thou know what a God truly is?"
My brows furrowed, and I growled as several orbs of plasma appeared next to me. They instantly heated up the surrounding area to feel like it was a hot summer's day. Mash and Ritsuka focused on me.
"Kukulkan," Ritsuka said.
With the acquisition of one of the Grails used to sustain this Singularity, it became easier to do 'supernatural' stuff. My plasma became hotter and was being erased at a more manageable rate.
"Enough of your theatrics. Tell me what this Nameless God is."
The little shit had the audacity to look annoyed, as if I had wronged her by not entertaining her. Unlike Zvezdnyy, I'm not entitled to entertain your eccentricity, especially not after what you did. I could feel my hands opening and closing, so easy it would be to snap her neck and be done with her simply. But then I took a deep breath and reminded myself there's enough hate in the world.
"It mattereth not now," The little shit said. She shrugged, "'tis here. The Nameless God hath come."
Before a word could be said, I immediately sensed how turbulent gravity became. It felt like a supermassive object had suddenly just appeared near me. I could see further now, the fog was receding rapidly. Far too quick to be natural. In mere moments, the visible distance extended from five meters to as far as I wanted. The fog vanished completely as if sucked away like dust in a vacuum.
And yet there wasn't any wind.
Ritsuka marveled at his surroundings now devoid of any fog, and asked, "What is…"
"That." I pointed at the source.
In the distance, several city blocks away, I spotted the source of this gravitational turbulence. It was… a boy? But it wasn't a boy at the same time. Oh sure, it might've possessed the body of a young boy, but I hardly recall any boys possessing what almost looked like a black hole for a head. Nor did a boy's body look to be hollowed out.
A circle of nothingness took the place of the boy's head. It was so dark that no depth could be seen; it was just a simple, raw circular void with only length and width. It was so dark that if placed upon the midnight sky, it would stand out. Threads of Imaginary Numbers emanated from that hole in reality. Tendrils of impossible colors I've not even seen before, all inside this realm where only those of the rainbow could've existed. Surreality encroached upon the real, causing spacetime to go haywire. Voidspace materialized within Realspace.
Those tendrils of unreality whipped out, striking chaotically at everything nearby like a rampaging child. Wherever the tendrils went, whatever it touched, the thing simply ceased to be. It was unmade, 'unreal-ed'. The city around the boy was being hollowed out, turning into what resembled a battlefield from WWI, mangled by artillery shells.
I shot a beam of plasma at it. The green needle of superheated gas dissipated like smoke from a campfire after getting caught by one of those tendrils. Through the chaotic mess of impossible colors, I could see how the boy reached into that hole in reality. Rags stripping away. Pure blackness absorbed his hands, followed by the forearm, until everything up to the elbow was just gone, eaten by the curtain of unreality.
And then the thing pulled out. It was gold in color, shaped like a cup— the Holy Grail.
I dashed forward as Mash stood between the boy and her Master. The world around me appeared to blur until that blur solidified into concrete lines. Everything appeared to move in slow motion as I ramped up my speed.
I would be nothing more than a blur to Ritsuka. Barely noticeable, easily dismissed as a trick of the light. But it seems I was all too noticeable for this creature.
The tendrils came at me. So numerous were they that they resembled the maw of some giant sea monster. I couldn't dodge all of them, as several scraped against my arms.
I barely reacted as they scraped off my skin, revealing the crystalline flesh underneath. But they didn't dissolve any further. Their unreality wasn't surreal enough to match my own alienness.
I was three meters away from the Holy Grail when I reached out. My hands thrust into a large mass of these Imaginary Numbers. Impossible colors shimmered like the scales of a fish as my skin was torn off, unpeeling like a banana as I continued my trajectory, uncaring of how much it hurt. Compared to the pain of that Hydra venom, this was nothing. Being flayed was nothing compared to Hydra venom.
I could feel those Imaginary Numbers biting into my bare flesh, akin to acid. Ripples of spacetime smashed into me, trying to push me away. I strode forward, clawing at every inch of distance I crossed. It really felt like I was trying to swim up a waterfall.
Then, the black hole grew in size, expanding until it consumed the boy entirely. Then it shrank. Right before my eyes, the black hole deflated, shrinking in size until it's like that of a basketball, before disappearing altogether.
Spacetime returned to how it was. Destruction surrounded me. A whole city block was leveled down to the ground with craters surrounding me, making it look like I was standing on the surface of the Moon.
"I have journeyed, long in walking, far beyond the place of stopping…" A tortured voice cried out from everywhere. "Where there was no more returning to the home I had known. I saw the world forgotten, where the grass gives up on growing. And I knew that I would never make another journey home."
There was no specific direction those voices came from. It came from all over the place. "I long to taste the fruit of the Void, I long for 'meaning' quenching. Of my thirst (suffering), unending, nothing that exists can remedy. For my voice has joined the chorus ever more, ever mourning. Ever praying, ever hungry. Ever dying. Never die."
That tortured voice was joined by a chorus of a thousand others. A thousand others that seem to rise out of the ground itself like blades of grass regrowing after a wildfire went through the place.
"W̷e̷ ̷h̸a̵d̷ ̷a̸ ̵s̶h̵a̷p̷e̸,̸ ̵i̷t̸ ̴i̷s̴ ̵t̷h̴a̴t̵ ̷o̶f̴ ̴a̵n̵ ̶i̸n̸f̸a̴n̶t̵.̶ ̷Y̸e̸t̷ ̷w̵e̶ ̸a̸r̷e̴ ̶h̶o̵l̴l̵o̶w̵,̷ ̷j̸u̶s̵t̴ ̵t̶h̸e̸ ̴o̸u̴t̷l̸i̵n̵e̴.̸ ̶W̵e̴ ̵h̷a̵v̵e̵ ̵f̴e̵l̷t̶ ̵w̶a̵r̴m̸t̵h̵,̷ ̴b̶u̴t̴ ̶t̷h̵e̵ ̸c̴h̸i̸l̵l̵i̷n̴g̷ ̸d̸e̷p̸t̶h̸ ̷d̶e̵v̸o̶u̶r̸s̵ ̵a̴l̴l̶.̷ ̴W̶e̸ ̶h̷a̶v̷e̸ ̷a̶ ̸m̴o̶u̶t̶h̴,̴ ̴b̸u̷t̵ ̷o̶u̴r̷ ̶s̸c̴r̵e̸a̶m̴s̴ ̸a̴r̶e̴ ̶b̶u̸b̷b̸l̵e̵s̸.̴ ̴W̴e̷ ̷w̷a̴n̷t̷ ̵t̸o̴ ̸b̵r̶e̷a̸t̸h̴e̸,̴ ̵y̸e̶t̷ ̸o̷n̵l̶y̷ ̷w̷a̸t̷e̸r̵ ̴f̸i̶l̴l̷s̴ ̷U̶s̶.̴ ̶W̸e̵ ̸c̷a̸n̶n̷o̶t̸ ̶r̶e̵m̵e̶m̸b̸e̴r̸ ̵o̶u̶r̵ ̴m̸o̵t̸h̶e̸r̶'̶s̶ ̵n̸a̵m̵e̸,̶ ̶b̸u̴t̶ ̷w̷e̵ ̵c̷a̴n̸ ̴a̷l̴w̵a̵y̷s̴ ̸r̸e̴m̵e̶m̵b̸e̵r̸ ̴h̵e̶r̶ ̵w̸a̷r̵m̵t̵h̷.̸ ̸W̷a̷r̴m̶t̷h̶ ̵t̵h̷a̶t̴ ̷i̸s̵ ̴r̶o̷b̶b̴e̶d̸ ̵b̵y̴ ̸t̶h̷e̸ ̵a̴b̴y̸s̸s̸.̴ ̴W̴e̵ ̸h̶a̷v̴e̷ ̷b̸e̶e̶n̵ ̶s̴i̷n̴k̷i̷n̴g̷,̵ ̸w̴i̷t̵h̶o̷u̷t̶ ̴h̷i̵t̶t̷i̵n̷g̶ ̵t̷h̴e̵ ̴b̸o̴t̶t̸o̵m̷.̶ ̶S̷t̶u̷c̵k̷ ̷i̵n̸ ̸a̸ ̵p̸u̵r̸g̴a̸t̴o̴r̵y̷,̷ ̶a̴b̷a̷n̸d̴o̴n̸e̵d̵ ̷b̷y̴ ̸G̵o̸d̶ ̴a̶n̴d̵ ̸D̸e̶v̴i̶l̶.̵ ̵A̷l̶o̶n̷e̸.̴ ̴W̷e̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̷ ̸n̴o̸ ̶n̴a̴m̷e̸s̶.̷ ̴W̵e̸ ̴a̴r̵e̷ ̷n̷o̵t̵h̵i̴n̵g̶.̸ ̵W̴e̷ ̸a̴r̷e̵ ̷t̶h̵e̸ ̸d̸r̸e̴d̴g̷e̸s̴ ̶o̴f̶ ̴h̸i̵s̸t̶o̸r̵y̴.̴ ̶W̸e̷ ̷a̸r̸e̸ ̷v̴e̵r̸m̷i̸n̵,̸ ̴u̵n̴w̸a̶n̴t̵e̴d̴ ̸b̸y̶ ̴a̸l̴l̴.̸ ̶W̸e̷ ̶h̷a̵v̵e̴ ̵n̷o̶ ̸m̸e̶m̵o̵r̸i̶e̴s̵ ̵t̷o̶ ̶c̵o̴n̴s̶o̷l̸e̸ ̵u̶s̷,̵ ̸o̷n̶l̴y̶ ̶v̵e̵n̷g̷e̷a̶n̴c̷e̴ ̴a̸n̴d̷ ̷h̵a̷t̶r̴e̴d̵.̷ ̸A̶n̴g̵e̸r̶ ̴o̴f̸ ̶t̸h̷e̶ ̶U̷n̸b̸o̴r̵n̸,̶ ̶t̷h̵e̵ ̸U̵n̸l̴o̴v̶e̷d̶,̴ ̴t̷h̸e̶ ̶A̵b̵a̸n̷d̵o̵n̸e̸d̸,̸ ̴t̸h̸e̶ ̵A̷b̵o̷r̸t̸e̴d̵.̵"
Over the horizon, in the direction of the Pit, rose a mountain of flesh. Distorted waves of spacetime covered it like a blanket. The mountain of bodies rose into the air like hands trying to reach the white Moon that hovered above it. The Moon that hung underneath the clouds.
The distortion in spacetime peaked when the tip of the Rat King graced the bottom of the Moon, climaxed as the very fabric of existence snapped, ripped, a hole torn within to somewhere else. The mountain of flesh was ripped apart by tidal forces, bodies being shredded and consumed by the black wormhole that manifested in front of the Moon. Blackness eclipsed the whiteness of the Moon. A wormhole eclipsed the only celestial body that orbited Earth.
As I look upon the wormhole, feeling the unsettling emotion that fell upon my heart, I'm reminded of a particular fact.
About a hundred billion humans have lived and died ever since the end of the last Ice Age. Most of those were short and miserable lives, so many dying before adulthood that it dragged down the whole statistical average to a mere 30 years of age, when you had a good chance of living to your 60s. And, well, if you included even those who died as infants or in childbirth, you might as well multiply that 100 billion number by a dozen.
If what Nursery Rhyme said was correct, if this Nameless God truly dwells within Limbo, where all those souls of the unborn go to… I felt a chill run down my spine. It would mean this Nameless God has been worshipped by more people who are alive in the modern era, for at least ten thousand years or more. All that unbreakable faith, monopolized by this one being… a God gorging itself upon so much faith...
Once the wormhole had fully covered the Moon, I could feel a sense of incredible dread trying to worm itself into my mind. Ritsuka gasped and had to sit down on a piece of rubble nearby, his legs undoubtedly turning to jelly. Mash looked like she could barely stand as she leaned upon her shield.
Only Nursery Rhyme looked… somewhat unaffected.
The God hasn't descended, only a channel has been opened, and it's already affecting everyone that much. It's still in another dimension!
I took several deep breaths. This… this dread isn't being fully nullified by the Company Defenses. That means this is fully natural. It felt like I was facing up against Ion again. A true monster among monsters.
Something leaked out of that wormhole. At first, I didn't know what it was. Only that it was fleshy, and shimmered as if wet. Pieces of that fleshy protrusion shed off like flakes of dandruff. The protrusion grew larger and larger, until it was revealed to be nothing more than one of the fingers of a malformed hand with all too many human-like fingers.
The descent of an aborted God.
Putrid fluids leaked from that wormhole, falling and flooding the empty London streets. More and more of that God emerged, and I moved to close that wormhole—
Only to find myself encased in a sarcophagus of spacetime. Stretched-out, non-euclidean distance that made crossing a single meter as difficult as crossing a light year. I was in a manifold.
I tried to fly out of it, but the God was only piling on more and more layers of distorted spacetime like it was trying to smother me with more and more blankets.
An arm now fully emerged from the wormhole. Followed by a serpentine-like body.
I found myself incredibly put off by the God. Disgust coiled around my heart as my face displayed only revulsion.
The God fell from the wormhole that hung in the sky. Collapsing into the sinkhole like a newborn animal struggling to walk for the first time. The layer of homes ahead of me covered much of the Aborted God, until a malformed hand reacted out, pushing this Nameless God so I could see it in all of its glory.
It was… it was a mockery of a dragon.
Although good or evil, dragons were almost always supposed to be majestic beings, symbols of nature's might that clashed or helped with heroes. I would know since I fought against Fafnir in Orleans.
This Thing in front of me sparks only disgust. The Aborted had scales like those of a dragon, yet each scale had the barely developed face of an infant. The Abandoned had wings like those of a dragon, yet they were barely developed, barely formed beyond anything more than simple tentacles that reached into the sky. The Unborn had hands and feets that supported its main body, yet they numbered more than the usual four, numbered by the hundreds— some were short and stubby while others were too long and brittle. The Unloved had a mouth like all creatures from Earth, but it more resembled leeches as its maw widened, opening up.
A spiral. A spiral of spirals was inside the Nameless God's mouth. An inescapable spiral that'll consume any and everything into the cesspit of abyssal despair, enough to drown one in. And just like a dragon, it also had its own 'fire breath'.
Aiming it towards us, it breathed out boiling redness.
I abandoned trying to break through the layers of stretched out spacetime and instead chose to move Ritsuka, Mash… and Nursery Rhyme away from the path of its… flesh breath.
I stopped at the top of a townhouse nearby. The putrid scent of rotten meat instantly fell upon all of London like a curtain. A mass of stinking flesh and boiling blood filled the space where everyone once stood. It easily crushed the buildings that dared to stand in its path, destroying a whole slice of London ranging from Buckingham Palace all the way to the edge of the city. In that mass were movements— crimson skeletons trying to wiggle free of the steaming meat pile it was a part of.
"..."
I stared at it, and I found myself back. Back underneath a crimson sky. The moving flesh that fused and parted like warm wax sculptures. I felt panicked, what? What is going on? What is happen—
Someone touched my hands. Gripping it tight enough that it pierced through the memories of the past, the fog of a time long gone.
"Huh?"
Looking down at my hands, I saw a smaller one holding it. Looking at the source, I found Zvezdnyy.
Zvezdnyy???
I instantly turned back to the Nameless God— "You shouldn't be here, Zvezdnyy! I boarded up the Church for a reason!"
"Benedict let me out," She said, without her usual flare. I noticed her unusual way of speaking for but a brief moment before thoughts of anger at Father Benedict drowned it out.
That fucker!
"He was in despair. He prayed to me and I responded to that prayer. I could feel the despair that suddenly descended upon this world. The despair that's enough to be crippling. Like the start of a new Age." Zvezdnyy glanced at Ritsuka, who looked frozen in shock, his eyes could not move away from the God that stood a while away. A God that's so huge, even kilometers away, its silhouette eclipsed the hand on an arm stretched as far away from one's eye as possible. Its 'wings' stretched across the starless, moonless night sky like a net. Its abyss of a maw is noticeable even in total darkness.
Darker than dark. Blacker than the event horizon of a black hole. It was something that didn't make sense.
It created around itself fields of absurdly powerful antigravity—walls within the structure of spacetime that prevented any intrusion. This was its defensive measure, a filter that allowed nothing but light to pass through.
"Thou canst not vanquish that thing through might alone." Nursery Rhyme explained, "'Tis no mere Divine Spirit, for the Age of Gods hath not yet met its end in the realm wherein it dwelleth. Nay, it is a true God—unfettered by vessel or form. A law unto nature itself. To strike it down would be as vain as striking at time itself. Or the Sun."
"I guess you haven't met someone like me yet," I remarked simply as I connected more with that distant Star. Power filled my cells as I advanced to the next Ascension.
Before Nursery Rhyme says anything else, I jettisoned off, a streak of light inside this dark night.
Letting out a soundless scream, I crashed into the walls of antigravity this Nameless God had put up.
____
Nursery Rhyme shook her head as she watched the Goddess fly off. Her thoughts were derisive and insulting. And it must've been obvious as Zvezdnyy looked displeased.
"Do not insult my Polkovodets," Zvezdnyy said as her eyes seemed to almost glimmer in the night. The girl approached the doll, "Now, how do you actually defeat this false God? Surely you, as the narrator of this story, would know?"
Nursery Rhyme appeared almost surprised. Her fingers came up, tracing the edge of Zvezdnyy's jawline like it was a delicate sculpture. Nursery Rhyme smirked.
"This God is less a creature of flesh and more a thought given form—an idea, a system of beliefs and values. In truth, thou mightst name it an ideology. An ideology of despair and hatred. And tell me—how doth one slay an ideology wrought from unyielding despair?" Nursery Rhyme trailed off.
"Hope…" Ritsuka muttered, notifying Zvezdnyy how he was listening along, "We need to find Artoria… if she's still alive…"
____
AN: A God descends in full.
Next chapter: A clash between Deities, as their stage, reality itself, buckles underneath the strain between these two titans.
Anyway, honestly London could be seen as a love letter to Bloodborne with how much that game has inspired the events here.