The Gamer Chapter 1539 – Fusion’s Pariah [General POV] (Patreon)

They cheered.

The images on the screens were blurry. They cut out and stabilized again. The form of Nia was an approximation. A reconstructed image of the pariah’s missing presence in the footage. A whole squad of mages worked steadily towards that single goal, fighting off the headaches any inspection of the footage caused them.

The crowd cheered.

There was no love for the Purest Front among the people of Rome. Human supremacy had no place among a people that prided itself in being the oldest continuing Abyssal civilization. The skilful dance of the approximation of Nia Fae around her bestial opponent gave the people plenty of circus as they munched on cheap bread.

The gathered people cheered.

And then she came back.

One moment, the abstract of Nia Fae was on the screen; the next, the pariah was on the field. The Maiden of Null’s presence, amped up by the adrenaline of combat, flowed out with near undiluted intensity. It was incomparable to her usual strangeness. It was incomparable even to all other nulls. Nia Fae wasn’t just a pariah, she was THE pariah.

In the moment of her return, all cheers died. All magical lights flickered. Even the monumental apparatus that recreated the battle at a speed the average person could comprehend was affected. Where Nia Fae stood, the illusionary lights ceased to be, creating an eye of drifting particles around her.

Tall, she stood, and uncompromising. Her cleanliness was alien, her white skin and white dress so flawlessly untouched it moved beyond sterile, beyond freshly made, and into the realm of an uncanny approximation of reality. To those that watched her, Nia Fae was less comprehensible than the model of her that they had watched seconds prior.

Blue eyes drifted to the viewing area. A woman, who felt looked at, seized up, then collapsed to the ground. A few people realized they were holding their breath and quickly exhaled. Many others only did when their legs gave in.

Where mirth had been a moment before, fear began to creep in. A distant sound, croaking, creeping, meowing, scratching, hissing, laughing, way too close to their ears for its whispering volume, made ten thousand people shiver in unity. The humans shivered. The magical entities, the elves, dwarves, lizardmen, skaven, Artificial Spirits, and other such, they wretched. Biological entities swallowed down bitter bile. Flight response pulsed in their veins. Inorganic beings felt their own magical circuits quiver and partly shut down.

“I can’t feel my legs… I CAN’T FEEL MY LEGS!”

The hollow words turned panicked scream set off the creeping fear into a barrage of terror. Silenced applause rose again as a cascade of universal horror. Down there, pale and blonde, stood a monster wreathed in nothing. The brown sand around her was turned colourless white, like perfect snow, except nothing like that. Nothing like anything. It was even less than the darkness of space.

Those that managed to keep looking, that were not swept up by the beginning cacophony of people hurriedly vacating their seats, felt a headache for locking their eyes on the impossible display.

“BE CALM, PEOPLE OF ROME AND BEYOND!”

The voice of the Apex thundered through the arena. All attention was diverted from the alien aura and to the emperor. The reconstruction of the fight had been temporarily disabled, letting all see the man that addressed them. Although tiny compared to the structure, his presence loomed large. The unrelenting alienness of the pariah faded into the background, refusing to leave entirely, but letting people focus on this island of godlike normalcy.

“You have nothing to fear, as long as I am here,” the ruler of Rome spoke with calm certainty. The panic abated, the presence of the other side retreated, the people breathed in and out.

The pariah’s aura was reigned in now. Nia walked towards her platform, with many eyes following her reluctantly. The terribleness of her being was no longer there, but all remembered. All recalled what they had just felt and… they did not know what to make of it. Should they hate what made them feel this afraid? Should they loathe it? Should they ignore this poisonous presence and try to recall only what they had cheered for?

They couldn’t.

She was a pariah.

She always would be.

“Ehem!” Jeff cleared his throat. Next to him, the lizardman Dra was hanging limp like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “Wow, so, that was… all right, seems like all our arcano-tech systems have dealt with the interferences! Let me distract all of us from what just happened with what happened today! The fifth and final fight of the first day of the tournament has concluded! Throw up the chart!”

“Urgh… Blanks,” Dra grumbled, suddenly snapping back up. He blinked a couple of times, then the black lizardman had the read on the situation. “Today was the first day of the series of single fights that will decide who gets to take the tenth seat of the Divided Gates. We had an explosive start with Metra versus Liakan.”

“Two daughters of the goddess of chaos, locked in legendary battle!” Jeff shouted. “A literally earth-splitting fight! Explosive! Shrouded in mystery! Rapid and woooooooooooow!”

“For once, I don’t disagree with your choice of words,” Dra said drily. “The initial clash seemed rather even, then Liakan pulled ahead using an incantation, but in the end Metra outlasted and outmanoeuvred her. A truly magnificent clash of titans.”

“Second fight, not nearly as interesting,” Jeff said almost dismissively. “Rave of Fusion utterly dominated Singed of the Azure Tribe. Must have been quite the weak guy, huh?”

“I’d be careful what you say, that man can still crush you into paste quicker than you can start one of your sentences.”

“Yeah, but who is going to be all hype about it if he does if he kills me?” Jeff responded and the general crowd chuckled. “Two wins for Fusion in a row, it was looking pretty good for the expected contestants for the seat, but then WHAM! Third fight!”

“Orkos versus Nathalia, an unknown element versus the Flame of Destruction.” Dra nodded a few times. “Certainly an upset. It is exceptionally rare for a being powerful enough to defeat someone like Nathalia to emerge.”

“Exceptionally rare indeed and what a sight! Orkos utterly dominated her, man-oh-man!”

“Did we watch the same fight? It was pretty even.”

“She did not lay a single claw on him!”

“…Yes, that’s how high-end defensive spells work?”

“And she could not break through. Oh, that was something alright!”

“…She did.”

“Huh?”

“She absolutely did break through towards the end.”

“Who should I believe, you or my lying eyes?”

Dra sipped on his ginger ale. “Me.” He took a second sip. “Did you at least catch her rewriting her true form?”

“You mean her turning into an actual volcano creature?”

“Quite so. A wholly unexpected turn of events, very important.”

Jeff sat down and looked at his co-commentator with two raised eyebrows. “And why’s that, Mister Dra? Just looked like another shapeshift to me.”

“I suppose this is not exactly common knowledge. Gods, as everyone should be aware,” Dra was addressing the crowd as much as Jeff, “are beings of multi-layered abilities. We do not call beings gods just because they’re powerful. They embody a Faith, an assembly of collective thoughts, and with that comes more than raw might. Gods can create, they can manipulate, and they can unmake things related to their Faith and, typically, this does include their own body. Nathalia decided to undo her dragon form and assume a new true form that suits her better. I should additionally point out that dragons commonly loathe changing anything about their nature. Most of them don’t even bother learning normal languages.”

“Interesting, interesting.” Jeff nodded along just like a person that was only half-listening would. “The fight itself was spectacular though! One-sided-“

“It was not one-sided.”

“-but spectacular! Wow, when she melted that arena… Orkos going in and out of dementia, what a THRILLER!” Jeff then clapped his hands. “Which brings us to the fourth fight of the day!”

“Beatrice versus Arkan.”

“The great Father of Arcane himself! First time I learned the name of an elemental ruler by the way!”

“It is not his name, it’s just German for ‘arcane’.”

“What?”

“You thought Mengele would just announce the name to the world? Elemental ruler names are quite the big deal, you know?”

“Yeah and I… Whatever!” Jeff turned away from his co-host and back to the matter at hand. “The fourth fight was a definitive loss and Beatrice fought that way. Can’t blame her for doing the smart thing and trying to extract some intel, even if it was a bit boring to watch.”

“Arkan’s showcased abilities were on the expected side,” Dra added plainly. “Only him pulling the magical matrix out of his opponent was truly surprising and, although I have never heard of anyone doing that, it is not entirely out of the realm of reasonable. I suppose that is to be expected.”

“Huh, why is that expected?”

“The elemental rulers make up the bedrock of our magical understanding. If they had abilities that went against our knowledge, then we’d have to revamp our entire theory of magic. It’s patchy enough as it is.”

“Making reason of the super-reasonable is never easy!”

“Apologize to that sentence.”

“That fight had put us at 2 wins for both sides. The final fight of the day pushed the favour of the day to Fusion! The less said about that the better.”

“The blank performed as expected,” Dra dared to say.

The attention of the crowd at large shifted over to where the members of Fusion were seated. There, John Newman held the pariah in his arms. He smiled at her, like any lovestruck man smiled at his dearest, and the alien being smiled back like any lovestruck woman smiled at her dearest. Except, of course, there was so much different about that. There were twenty dearests for the Gamer, and even if that smile was genuine, the being that wore it seemed wrong regardless.

Although the people could not bring themselves to accept Nia, to overcome the instincts that rang every alarm bell inside them, they were happy for the Maiden of Null when she exchanged a kiss with her beloved. None that were afraid of her would deny her the happiness of a genuine partner.

“Any final analysis, Dra?” Jeff asked.

“Seems like the Azure Tribe has weaker fighters at the bottom end and stronger fighters at the top end, while Fusion is about equal across the power levels,” Dra said. “With the way the Gamer’s powers are suspected to work, this isn’t entirely surprising. Question will be how Eliana will handle the field.”

“You think the shortie has learned self-control yet?”

“GET FUCKED YOU COCKSUCKING BASTARD! I’LL MAKE AN OUROBOROS OUT OF YOUR INTESTINES, YOU PAINTBRUSH-LOOKING FREAK!”

“The answer to that question,” Dra spoke drily, “is to ask yourself how you’re still alive?”

“Plenty of charisma and good relationships.” Jeff smiled back.

“No.”

The announcer’s desk began to float down and towards the platform where all the technical equipment was being stored. Where the duo left off, Romulus took over. His mighty voice once more echoed across the entire arena.

“The first day of combat has hereby concluded. Five fights were had, five fighters have left the ring, and nine remain. Of the Azure Tribe, there are four: Arkan, Orkos, Malot, and Karia. Of Fusion, there are five: John, Rave, Eliana, Nia, and Metra. Will the matter conclude tomorrow? Perhaps. We shall see. For today, this event ends. I wish you, my citizens, and those from beyond, a pleasant afternoon.”

And thus, the people left with a smile on their face.