[Tian] 1:23 (Patreon)

“WE ARE GALGOM. WE ARE IMMORTAL. AND YOU CANNOT STOP US.”

The words echo over and over again, as if they are bouncing off the walls of an enclosed space. But we do not stand in a cave; we are in the open, standing under the sable sky of the true night. The world should be enveloped in total darkness. Only the flashes in the background— from the fighting in the distance— even shreds a semblance of light in this nightmare.

However, I do not wake up a moment later. This is no dream. What is before me is a reality. A hundred Galgoms hover in the air— their weapons floating next to them, sparkling with red light. It creates a glow. A menacing glow.

The same as the Lifeblood of this world. Yet, it is not Lifeblood that Galgom wields. His power… I do not know what it is. Machines. Technology. Things beyond my comprehension. Now is not the time to ponder over it.

I glance back at the Galgom, still tied up by the Websmith. He has a crooked smile on his face— he continues to talk, even as the others stop.

“Time and time again, the people of this world have tried to kill me. Time and time again, they have failed. I have been to worlds you can only imagine. I have crossed the void more times than years you’ve lived— I have seen the wrath of gods and devils. And now, I come to liberate this world. To save it.” He spits. It is a purple globule of blood and saliva. It lands on the ground next to me as I walk up to him. “How ungrateful. This world… perhaps I shall let it—”

I slice off his head. With a swing horizontal slash, my hand severs his neck in half. His speech ended. His words left in the mud, to sink with his fallen body. I turn my attention to the Websmith, digging into my novacloth pouch as the army of Galgom erupts into a rage.

“There are too many of them for us to defeat.”

The bloodcurdling war cries of Galgom— or the Galgoms— is all that I can hear. The Websmith does not reply. Instead, she stares at the impending wave, flying straight towards us.

She does not even look like she is focused on them. It seems like her attention is past them— at the battlefield beyond. The place where the Keepers of the Grove are fighting tirelessly, thinking, hoping that we have won.

And we did. It is just that Galgom’s powers are beyond even our worst expectations. I imagined that he may have been able to revive— some form of rapid reincarnation. Maybe he even has a handful of copies of himself hidden away. But this?

A hundred of them?

“We have to flee.”

The Websmith finally shakes her head. She turns to face me as the Galgoms finally move. I ready myself for their descent. I take on a wide stance, feeling my Qi and the Essence flare up. But before I can move, the Websmith brings a scythe-like hand down before me.

I narrow my eyes as I see the threads unfurling behind her. However, she does not battle. Not yet.

“We are not in danger. Not just yet. Galgom is a spiteful, vindictive tyrant. Observe.” She points up at the floating Galgoms. They begin to fly higher and higher, not towards us.

Then they spread out. They shoot out across the skies— like a hail of stars. They split up, flying across the battlefield. And I can see their lightning. The red light. It flashes. A deadly, bloody color.

I frown. “He is…”

“Yes,” the Websmith says, starting forward. “He will slaughter the Keepers of the Grove. End this insurrection once and for all.”

“And what are you doing?” I ask her as she continues her march.

“I will stop him.”

Her words are plain. Simple. They clearly convey what she intends to do. There is no obfuscation in her motivation. Yet, I stare at her, almost surprised.

“There is a hundred of him, and only one of you. You will die.”

“Perhaps,” she muses as her skittering form gets closer and closer to the pit. A single Galgom waits there, floating and readying a blade. “However, it is better that I die than for the people of Utana to suffer any longer.” With that, she leaps up into the air, almost as if she is pouncing for the Galgom there.

The Galgom braces himself, but the Websmith suddenly shifts course. She goes around him as her webs pull her in another direction. He is about to react when a single strand pulls at his leg, yanking him down and hurling him against a rock wall.

A plume of dust shoots up as the Websmith continues on, undeterred. I hesitate, watching her go. She does not value her life— not as much as she does the people of Utana. However, if I go out there after her, I will likely die.

My goal is to become immortal. To live forever; it is not to die fighting a war that does not matter to me. I wish to return home. Back to Jhisie.

There are so many things I have yet to do— so many deeds left unsettled. I was going to ascend to a Spring. Unfortunately, the Spirit Jade’s test was a farce, the entire Forsaken Palace nothing more than a sham. I was tricked by the only five known immortals of the world.

They tested me, yet they found me wanting. Was it to eliminate competition? That is possible. Or perhaps… perhaps I truly am lacking.

I grit my teeth, feeling my hands tightening into balls of fists. Galgom explodes up, breaking free from the earth. He lets out a guttural cry. His maddened gaze fixed at the Websmith’s back as she bounds further and further away.

His weapon dematerialized and takes the shape of a large lightshooter. He aims it at the Websmith as a red energy coalesces, taking form with crackling lightning, creating a dense sphere that resonates power.

And yet, before he can do anything, I crash into his back. The blast fires off into the air— a beam of light that cuts the sable sky, lighting up the night for a brief moment. Heads turn. All across the battlefield, the Keepers of the Grove look up, seeing the bright flare, and seeing the dots filling the sky, coming at them amongst the Esh and the En.

Will they be able to react in time? Will they know to flee?

It is uncertain. But they warn each other of the impending swarm. They scream. They utter cries of a hundred Galgom. Some of them, in their fear, claim there are thousands. They are not too far off. I do not know how many bodies Galgom inhabits. However, they come for the Keepers of the Grove.

The monsters prove to be a small barrier for them. They descend like holy lightning. Divine power from the Heavens, casting judgement over the sinners.

“You cannot save them—” Galgom croaks as he struggles in my arms.

The two of us are flying straight down. Straight for the dark abyss where he came from. He struggles. He tries to push me off. But I reach for his neck— my body surging with power. Is that my Aura wisping from my skin?

I rip off Galgom’s head. The immortal— the faux immortal— falls into the hole. His body floating down like a feather. I leave it behind, propelling myself to the battlefield.

I see chaos all around me. The Esh and the En are more numerous than ever. The monsters, wild and ferocious, still fighting, but their numbers are dwindling. The ground explodes as a lizard-like creature burrows out of the earth. It snaps its massive jaw at an Esh, crushing it, before being sliced in half by a Galgom.

He lets out a laugh. A cackle. It sounds like he has gone mad— is he relishing in the violence? His is almost indiscriminate, attacking both his machines and the monsters all around him. He spins around, a crazed smile spread across his face—

And pauses as he sees the burning glow behind him. Before he can react, the iridescent phoenix crashes down on him. It burns him, eating through his armor, incinerating him in an instant.

I pant as I reach for my novacloth pouch. I do not have much left— I need more. I crunch down on a ginsoul pill, only to be tackled from behind. I twirl in the air, struggling with a single Galgom— and a second one crashes into my side. We fall into the earth like a comet, but I am no longer there.

The pair of Galgoms are only holding onto each other.

Void Walk.

When they pick themselves up, I am already gathering a disc of Qi above my head. I toss it down at them, grinning.

“Liufan Sacred Technique: The Heavenly Halos!”

The disc splits into seven smaller rings. Each are about the size of my hand, but they are spinning— rotating— at an insanely fast speed. They dance through the air, coming for both Galgoms in different directions.

I do not remain idle. I can feel the approach of another Galgom. He tries to squish me with a maul, but the illusion shatters like glass. I appear behind him, landing a palming striking on his back.

“Liufan Holy Arts: Paralysing Palm.”

The Galgom falls limp, still alive but taken care of fr now, as the other two dispatch of the last of my Heavenly Halos. They come at me from both directions as I brace myself, adopting a fighting stance.

I duck under their strikes— their repeated, oncoming blows. I dodge patiently, waiting for the right time to strike. Then I see a chink in their defense. I do not just go for it— I strike with everything I have.

The School of Enchantment and the School of Transmutation. Both at the same time. I turn his armor into liquid, and my hand pierces through his abdomen. He screams, but latches onto my forearms before I can pull away. The other Galgom slices my back, cutting a deep gash as I scream. Before he can follow-up with a second strike, a golden ray blasts him back.

A pillar of flames crashes down on the fallen Galgom. I hear a voice crying my name.

“Tian!” A familiar azure-haired woman runs up after me.

I grunt, kicking the first Galgom grabbing hold of me back. I land next to Nindran, facing her with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” She is interrupted as an explosion resounds in the background. Another giant worm bursts out from the ground. “I saw what was happening. I came to help!”

I stare at her. “What? No— get out of here! You cannot do anything against him. We have already lost.”

“We have not—”

A Galgom from above hurls a blade at me. I leap and grab Nindran, pulling her out of the way. Another sends down a bolt of red lightning at us, and I brace myself.

Suddenly, threads begin to weave all around us. I blink as we are covered by a protective dome.

“The Guardian’s Blessing,” Nindran says. “I can help. I have been marked by the Elocunive.” She gestures at herself in the darkness, only a faint glow lighting up the sphere.

I look down at my hands. There really is an Aura forming around me. My… Aspect? I frown. Why here? Why now?

Shaking my head, I look up to Nindran. I hold her gaze. “I am sorry, Nindran. But you are too weak. You will only be a burden.”

“But—” she tries to protest. The shield around us drops. I see a dozen Galgoms floating above us. And I sigh.

I grab Nindran and leap across the battlefield. Beams of red energy lay waste to where I had been standing. I hear the girl saying something, but I ignore it. I spot a boy running at the edge of the fighting. Men and women stream around him, fleeing into the forests and the mountains.

I land next to him, and he blinks. “Tian—”

I let go of Nindran and push her to him. “Seiled. Take Nindran and get out of here.”

“The squirt can’t stop me,” she says defiantly.

I look at her, then close my eyes. “I know.” I strike her in the back of the neck. She lets out a wheeze and collapses, unconscious. “Here.” I lift her body, giving it to Seiled.

He looks up at me, confused, perplexed. “What…?”

“Leave,” I say simply. “And live.”

I turn away from him and return back to the battlefield. I do not know why I said that; I have been puzzled by my own actions for a while. Sure, I have been able to rationalize most of it. But— if I truly wish to be immortal, is this not foolish?

Unless… unless… that is not my wish.

I have been pursuing ascension since as long as I can remember. It has been ingrained in my mind as a child. However, has it ever been my goal? Or was it something I told myself I needed? Perhaps… it truly is not what I seek. Perhaps that is why my soul is lacking.

I land a punch that sends Galgom flying back. More fly past him, coming after me.

Then why do I still find immortality so captivating? There is something beautiful about it. Something I cannot place. Not just yet. I must be missing something— a piece of myself that is lost. A piece that I must find.

I trade blows with three Galgoms. Each of my strikes becoming stronger and stronger. One of them falls, dead, and the other two retreat. I send phoenixes after them— not just one, but  a whole flock.

I remember a hut. A mother, a daughter. A smile, and a promise. A friend— betrayal. And death.

Those events shaped everything that I am now. However, it is possible I have misinterpreted it. Misinterpreted the desires that I had borne from it.

Landing next to the Websmith, I speak through labored breath. “It seems everyone has either fled, or has died.”

“It appears so,” she says, retracting a thread that holds a bleeding Galgom on it. “Perhaps it is time for us to follow them.”

I do not know why, but I laugh. “Do you mean to death, or to run?”

“Yes.” That is all she says.

The Galgoms gather before us. We stand surrounded. I am certain I have slain at least 10 Galgoms. But that is merely a dent in their numbers. Dozens of them encroach on the Websmith and I.

I gather my Essences and Qi, while she prepares her magic. A tempest erupts from the ensuing battle. One which I fight with my all.

My Aspect flares up. I cut down Galgom after Galgom. But they come, unending. An immortal horde. They cut at my body. They rip the Websmith’s threads apart.

At one point, I hear a crash. One of the Websmith’s legs are torn off. She screams— a terrifying scream that calls even more monsters to us. But they are nothing more than fodder. All kinds— all manners of creatures— rush Galgom. Even what appears to be flowers— massy, walking flowers that spit a green gas— come to the Websmith’s aid.

But they are all the same to Galgom and his forces. This is his Hive. The magic, the Essences, and the technology all light up the true night. I see monsters falling. They screech until the last of them are forced to flee. Overwhelmed by the immortal’s might.

The Websmith and I try to follow after them. However, each of our paths are cut off. He presses us back towards his Hive. He comes one after another. My ginsoul pills are close to depletion. I can feel my Qi and Essences fading. Another illusion breaks— another Void Walk is used.

At one point, my Ray of Esh and The Guardian’s Blessing recovers. They are just another two Feats that cannot change the tide of the battle. Galgom impales me— from a spear thrusted for my heart, missing and striking my abdomen. Another— an axe— jams itself on my back.

I envelop myself in flames. The two Galgoms scream as they die. And as I fall, I see threads catching me. They wrap around my being as I drop straight down the hole.

The Websmith follows. She leaps into the darkness as the Galgoms pursue us. I spin in the air, falling faster than my drops of blood. Then there is a splash. I land into… water?

No. A sea of red. The Websmith is not too far behind. And through the translucent wall of red, I see the Galgoms stopping. They hover over the crimson barrier, as if they cannot go any further.

Why do I fight? What is it that I seek?

And as these final thoughts settle into my mind, the world goes dark.

Author's Notes:

Gib thoughts?