Branch 9: Alexo
*Cough* *Cough*
"Metia's mercy. What happened?"
The inquisitor choked on air full of dirt and debris. He tried but couldn't stand. His legs felt, broken. So did one of his arms. Remembered the oracles using their trump card but, the light changed. The blinding brightness of verdict was suddenly streaked with darkness. Then a roar like the world ending, and everything went dark.
The cardinal's favorite agent connected the dots.
"That pit spawn brought the roof down."
Even after realizing it, Alexo could scarcely believe it. The mana infused stone of dungeons is not invincible, but its very tough. If they weren't? The frequent battles between monsters and adventurers would quickly turn dungeons into so much rubble.
The power needed to collapse a cavern hundreds of feet long, just as wide, and half as tall?
"Impossible." Whispered the servant as he laughed to himself. He did not mind the beast's parting gift. If his injuries didn't kill him, scavengers soon would. As long as that monster was dead? He could stand before Metia with a light heart.
Eh?
A scream? Hard to hear clearly with one of his ears crushed.
At first Alexo thought the rock worms must already be here. But, that scream didn't sound like someone being eaten. He had heard something like it before but, when? The clergyman's mind turned to ice when he remembered.
A quiet whisper.
"When the abomination turned its power on Viridia."
Next were several soul rending screams at once. The thought that the monster survived brought despair to Metia's devoted son. He had failed. Not only had he failed but he had lead hundreds of the church's faithful to their death.
Under the rock around him was the elite of Metia's army. Their loss would weaken the church for years.
His one still working ear picked up each set of shrieks that followed. Despair turned to madness as the broken man imagined the slaughter these undead would bring. There had never been an undead oracle before. Could even the Aquecian heroes stop a reborn Lich King?
He began laughing and hacking as the magnitude and consequences of his failure addled his mind. Even the words he barely heard, did not stop the madness gripping him.
"Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."
The laughing continued as the crunch of foot steps approached. He couldn't stop even we he felt dark magic swell around him.
"[Shadow Levy]"
"yyyaaaHHHGGG!!!"
His laughter turns to screeching as he feels himself being torn apart. Every sinew binding his spirit body to his physical body pulled taught and agonizingly torn away. One by one. As the last link to his flesh is stripped, he feels himself crawling thru a crack in existence. Irresistibly compelled to be, reborn.
There is no pain anymore. There is now purpose. Everything makes sense now. It serves the One. The One gives life. The One gives death. Both eternity and oblivion. Its old identity? Meaningless. Some memories remain. The joy of reading. Others are lost.
They don't matter. It didn't know the One then. The past exists now only to be read. Like a book. It can feel, and what it feels? Pride.
It knows the others here and the others know it. Gratitude comes from many as they recognize it who brought them to the One. Two are different. They are nothing but purpose. Yet they have so much that even it, feels intimidated.
It feels the One call, so it answers. The world comes into focus. Others fade as its connection to the One becomes clearer. As does the One's will. It sees others not of the One and feels, pity. It also sees others of the One that tend to those not of the One. It knows the One's will and speeds across the rubble with others.
It finds 'her' among the rubble down a side tunnel and brings her back to be tended too. It goes out again and gathers what's needed. What survives. It kills everything that approaches. It protects the One and those not of the One as they leave the cavern.
It serves the One. The One gives it purpose.