Split

—Authors Unknown363

Split

“No!” Adam screamed, casting his head back and forth. He struggled against the Challenger's grip. He tried finding his bow, tried calling it to his grasp, but the Challenger's grip was truer than the laws of reality. Adam could not move, not of his own volition. The only thing the orc god allowed was the twisting of his head and the desperate tightening of his facial muscles.

the Challenger repeated, unmoving as skills potent enough to sunder mountains and more continued to crash down upon him from every direction in the room. His voice was calm, but there was a rumble of thunder about in the aftermath, a promise of storms to come.

Though Adam knew the Challenger was taunting him, he couldn't help but suffer regret. There was truth in the words, after all. He thought about Isabella, who was on death's doorstep, delirious, incapable of even holding on to her sense of self or her memories.

Adam didn't want to consider it, but part of him wondered if this… was the right choice after all. If there were a potential path for everyone to be satisfied. Isabella would be potentially cured if she could maintain her pacifism. He knew that Orcish Skills didn't change you immediately. That there was a chance that if you fused the skill or if you waited it out, the skill could be pacified.

But Adam also had another insight. The Challenger was devoid of Heroism, barren of true goodness or generosity. Nothing he offered was for free. Everything had a price, a cost, and ultimately a benefit to the Challenger himself. Whoever Adam gave would likely be taken, one way or another.

Despite Adam's earlier words, he knew the Challenger was more monster than fool.

The orc god leaned in, his head the size of Adam's body. The primitive ape hidden deep inside Adam's flesh began to scream, for a predator had breached its comfort zone and come to claim a pound of flesh.

And the Challenger laughed heartily.

Slowly, the Challenger’s open mirth died down, changed to become something of an assuring smile, as if he was sure Adam would make the right choice, and as he looked into his eyes, Adam began to truly believe it. The Challenger was playing and plucking at Adam's emotions. Even if his contagious rage couldn't affect him from the outside, his Social Skills were like a scalpel, jabbing and pricking at Adam, provoking him toward a cliff of greater despair.

The longer Adam deliberated, the clearer the Challenger’s cruelty became. The choice itself was meant to hurt Adam and also potentially to damage his Domain, for there was nothing heroic about casting an innocent into the jaws of a wolf. “You want to see if you can break my Domain prematurely. Is that it?”

Adam scowled at the greater god. “Then… here is my turnabout: I challenge you to live up to your godhood. I challenge you to struggle against me properly. Give one of your skills to me. Let it fester inside me and see if it changes me. See if you get a new orc out of the deal, perhaps a second fledgling god orc. An orc God of Heroism.” Adam laughed bitterly as he tried to imagine that. “Wouldn't that be quite the prize?”

The Challenger's voice turned into a rumble of pure frustration.

The orc god breathed out through his nostrils, his face a mask of offense.

Yet, before helplessness could overtake Adam, another voice joined the conversation, doing so with a wet cough of pain. “Hey, Fucker! You didn't need to torture me. I know you godsdamn didn't. Those skills would have healed on their own.”

The Challenger granted Adam a moment's reprieve. His attention drifted toward the one clasped in his other colossal hand, surrounded by a buzzing swarm of flies, by chains of maggots, by that vile, fetid incandescence that flowed from the Challenger. Some of the orc god's Divinity boiled Shiv from the inside, but rather than simply inflicting pain, it seemed to restore him. Instead of being the frail, worn puppet hanging limp in the Challenger's grasp that Adam was, Shiv's head was held high.

The Challenger pursed his lips in mock surprise.

“Don't give me that shit,” Shiv spat. “You're the one who performed bastardized soul surgery on me. Felt like you filled me with a bag of knives and shook me around.”

“Fuck you. I can handle pain. Doesn't mean I like it.” Shiv grunted, but it was a noise of pure annoyance rather than anything else, and in that moment, despite all the new gifts Adam had obtained, despite his faint Divinity, he was more envious of his friend than ever. “But never mind that. You want to stick a skill in someone? Shove it inside me. A second round for you, the chance to make things even, all on me. Let's do this again. In fact, I got just the skill for you to make better.”

The Challenger chastised Shiv by tutting at him, the same way a father would his idiot son.

But Adam didn't hesitate. He knew then the best choice had presented itself. “I choose Shiv! Shiv! Give him the skill!”

Shiv snorted. “Yeah, see? He chose me. Easy. Done. Give me the skill!”

The Challenger frowned at the both of them like they were two children performing a badly thought-out prank. iously. You have

“Coward,” Shiv spat, writhing in the Challenger’s iron grip. “You're a god, aren't you? You make the rules. Change them. Take another swing at me. Let's see if you can corrupt my pre-Legendary skill. Apparently, it's really restricted. Even got a Myth to jump me.”

The Challenger hummed.

That took both Shiv and Adam by surprise.

“What? You're saying you don't have an Orcish counterpart to the skill? How?” Shiv didn’t believe the Challenger, but the orc god just sighed.

The Challenger shook his massive head.

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And then, almost imperceptibly, the right side of the Challenger's face twitched. A hint of irritation overtook him.

The outpouring of confessions overwhelmed Shiv. “I have other skills—”

The Challengeclicked his tongue disapprovingly.

The Challenger's eyes briefly flicked to Uva before turning away. He shook his head as his disappointment mounted.

But while the Challenger engaged with Shiv, Adam found himself drawn to another presence, another radiating source of mana. He thought it was Hymn at first. The Headmaster was still hiding behind his veil of nightmarish eyes, but there was another source of eldritch mana beside Hymn and Uva.

Discarded beside the Culturist, barely visible through the haze of detonating magical skills, was an egg, wrought from the ruined husk of Longinus. An egg that contained the former Avatar of the Wanderer—a copy of Georges. He was wrapped inside a colorful cocoon, and the Dreamtaker had embraced him and undergone an evolution of her own.

And suddenly an idea came to him, one he was uncertain about, but one that seemed far better than any other choice he had. Georges was already contaminated by the eldritch, had already been traumatized and stained by Longinus's divinity. For the Challenger to infuse an orc skill into the mix, maybe that could be a wrench in the works rather than a bestowal of a Curse.

Pillar of Orichalcum 422 > 461

Vitality Drain 172 > 204

Inertial Overdrive 331 > 355

Aegis of Assimilation 145 > 149

Legion of Self 114 > 144

These Words of Truth and Adoration 52 > 66

The Snake Entombed of Lightning and Thunder 52 > 60

A Glimpse of Perspective 94 > 97

Aside from a bout of horrific suffering, the Challenger had done good work in rebuilding Shiv's broken soul. All his skills were now returned and bestowed their rightfully earned levels. A rush of power pulsed through Shiv, and it continued cascading and building.

It wasn't enough. He was stronger than ever before. He'd gained more than ever before, and his options were wider than ever before. He wasn't just a brute anymore.

But it still wasn't enough.

Not when it came to the Challenger.

For the first time, the Harbinger sounded resigned. And more than that, it seemed unnerved. Shiv gazed into the emotional core of the Challenger, and though the orc god could feel an impossibly vast array of emotions at once, there was no instability there. His mind was great, a colossal expanse of knowledge and memory, but it was also in perfect harmony.

The Challenger was a god of Strife, War, Desolation, but he himself was paradoxically serene. the Harbinger whispered.

Shiv went absolutely still. The Challenger repeated his declaration once more. The Challenger smirked.

Shiv hadn't been a brute for a long time, but the Challenger might never have been one at all. In prior conversations, Shiv was guided by his social intuition. His natural talent for psychology and his knack for interactions guided his words and thoughts; above all, though, Shiv was a bloodhound for any kind of weakness born of mind and heart.

But the Harbinger was right. There was no such vulnerability in the Challenger. In fact, for the first time, Shiv thought himself utterly and completely outmatched. The Challenger loomed over him like a dark reflection. Shiv was no orc, but within the brutal god, there was a representation of what Shiv could become even if he didn't go divine. Here was the embodiment of power. Here was someone capable of terrible calamity, yet utterly in control of themselves.

the Harbinger whispered.

Immediately, Shiv centered his mind. And he sighed. “What do you want aside from abusing Adam?”

The Challenger frowned, almost offended by Shiv's words.

“Okay, so he took the Culturist from you—and you're going to make him do what? Pick between his dad, his fiancée, his mom, or someone else? You're trying to make him compromise his Heroism?” Shiv shook his head. “I'm disappointed. I really am.”

“I'm not treating you like a victim; I'm just thinking that you're uncreative.” Shiv hesitated as he made eye contact with Adam. The Paragon flicked his eyes leftward, and Shiv nearly betrayed his confusion. What was Adam trying to hint at? He didn't have time to figure that out—he needed to keep this going. “I know Adam, and if your psychology is as good, no, fuck that, you're better at this than I am. I can feel it, and that feeling inside of me has never been wrong. And so, if my intuition is good enough to know what might hurt him, then yours is too.”

The Challenger tilted his head.

Shiv took a moment to organize his thoughts, and a faint pull originated from within the Challenger. Shiv’s Rhetoric Skill indicated he had the orc god’s attention. “Look, I have my own issues with Roland, but let's be honest, that orc skill is wasted on him. Roland is not weak. Roland will beat that skill. He will fuse it. You know he will. I know he will. You have faith in me? Well past my bad blood, I have faith that Roland Arrow is going to make you waste that skill.”

Adam's face contorted in horror. “Shiv, what the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.

Shiv ignored his friend and continued. “There's no fight with Roland, no struggle. The outcome is already decided, so I don't think he's your good choice here. Now, there's Adam's mom. The thing about her, she's plenty pissed at baseline anyway.”

the Challenger asked.

“No, she's still a pretty bad candidate, but that's for another reason. She's only been back for what, a few months at most? Adam barely knows her. I have no idea if she can fuse or wait out your orcish skill, but I can tell you this much: losing her will hurt Adam. It'll sting something bad. It'll traumatize him. But I'm pretty sure that he'll manage. He will live to hate you, and if you want to start a rivalry that'll see Adam come for you the same way I'll come for you down the line, sure, go ahead. But this isn't going to test his Heroism at all. Not enough emotional weight.”

The Challenger nodded slowly in contemplation.

“Trust me, I'd love to dance with you again and make you swallow that shit—and thinking about you putting an orc skill in Uva fills my guts with a kind of hate I can’t describe. But no. Not us. Not Isabella or some random person from Blackedge either.”

Shiv shook his head. “That the way you are going about this is closer to a God of Cruelty than War. War is about fighting, isn't it? About dominating your enemy? About beating them down?”

“Well, you're turning away from war now. You're acting like a god of petty torture, or whatever sick Domains there are. Yeah, if you want Adam to hurt himself and to betray himself, sure, have him give up one of his family members as a sacrifice. Push him to the brink. That's going to traumatize him bad. But you forgot something. I'm still here. Uva’s still here. We're not going to let him break. You rip him apart; we will put him back together. Better than you put me back together. And there is no fight there. As you got faith in me, have faith in these words: I will keep Adam sane. No matter what. But if you are a God of War, if you are a God of Strife, then you will know that I'm right when saying that you don't want to put that orc skill in me one more time. You're sure that I'll win? Fine, but isn't your name literally the ? Why are you letting a little thing like Adam not taking your skill on the first try stop you? Why aren't you trying to figure out why that even is? Why aren't you trying to ?”

And as Shiv wove his new narrative, every word he spoke filled him with a greater discomfort. He couldn't even look at his friend, but in his heart of hearts, he knew this was what Adam wanted. Adam was self-sacrifice. Adam was noble to the core, but this was Shiv pushing him onto the blade.

And it just felt godsdamn wrong. But he couldn't stop. There were no better options. He had to see this through if he possibly could.

“Just think about it,” Shiv insisted. “Think about it. I can handle whatever grief you inflict on Adam. You know what the Harbinger can do. I haven't tested my ability to break emotions inside people, but you bet your ass I'll do that to him if it means stopping him from being swallowed by his own grief. But if you want to inflict a real war on someone, if you want someone worthwhile back in exchange for losing the Culturist, there is only one actual fight here.”

Finally, Shiv mustered the strength to look at Adam, and he saw such hope in his friend's eyes, such gratitude. It made Shiv sick to his stomach.

“His Haunting Omniscience. It's already too powerful for him. It's ripping his mind apart. You can feel it. You're the only reason he's not insane right now. I want you to imagine inflicting an orcish skill that's a mirror of his Awareness on him after finally peeling through his weird Divinity. Imagine the rage he would constantly feel every waking moment. Imagine that. Imagine the struggle Adam would have to go through if he, extremely favored, with an invasion of his Gate on the horizon, couldn’t kill, and warred against his own rage.”

The magnetic pull Shiv had over the Challenger grew stronger with every word. “Imagine the irony. Imagine the thematic triumph. Adam burned away the itch inside the Culturist. Now think about him falling to your influence. He failed to convince you earlier because he was desperate, and that scratched your itch. Well, right now I'm telling you to ignore your itch in favor of your Divinity. is War. There is a question, and I can't answer it. I don't think you can either. I don't know if Adam can beat your skill, especially when your skill is attached to his Legendary Awareness. I don't know, but don't you want to find out? After all, there is no war like a war with yourself, right? We can always be our own worst enemies. Especially when it comes to a Delve. So I'm gonna ask you again, Challenger: Are you nothing more than the incarnation of cruelty, or do you actually want to see a fight? Because out of all of these choices, there’s only one that has any real tension.”

Seconds passed.

Skills and spells from Pathbearers possessed of Legendary power smothered the Challenger with as much fervor as they did every second of the last few minutes, but evoked no reaction.

The levels came first.

Harbinger of the Tripartite Ruin 281 > 284

These Words of Truth and Adoration 66 > 71

The smile followed thereafter.

The Challenger’s barrel chest swelled, and then he began to laugh. And Shiv felt a relief brighter than the dawn rise inside. The god let out a sigh.

Both Shiv and Adam slackened with relief. Shiv felt like his heart wasn’t being choked anymore.

And a crushing claw dug its nails in Shiv’s chest once more. The Challenger turned to face Adam with a beatific, smile.

“No, no, no, wait, wait, wait!” Adam cried.

Shiv didn't know what the Challenger was talking about, why Adam was so panicked. Not until he saw a stream of festering divine essence leave the Challenger and pierce into the eldritch egg that remained of Longinus. The evolving eldritch egg that still held Georges inside. The Dreamtaker's cocoon promptly ignited with the foul touch of war. And before Shiv could beg the Challenger to stop, he was flung aside as the orc god drove both hands into Adam's chest and began .

And with it came an anguished shriek that would follow Shiv into his nightmares.