Chapter Text
Like fate was laughing at me, fireworks went off the moment I clicked my mouse one last time after pushing him off the ledge and into the darkness. Like this was meant to be a moment of celebration. The betrayed gibberish and the hastened 'WAIT' in the chat rang in my head, like the command was spoken rather than typed in a block game. I almost laughed at how pathetic all of this was. Minecraft was just that. Just a game. Just. A stupid, fucking game that had caused all this.
This time, a delirious laugh bubbled from the back of my throat, so bitter my ears could taste it. My brain shifted inside my skull, as if making space for something else that was going to settle into the gap. The movement made my head feel like someone was pouring fresh-out-of-volcano magma over it. But no one could do that. I had no friends. I had no family that would actually care. I had many enemies. Including the King In Yellow. Did Hastur count as a separate one if we ended up merging? Because I knew we will.
The keys of my keyboard felt like slime underneath my fingers. The back of my arm had a dent from being pressed against the table's edge for however long, I couldn't remember. My Minecraft avatar stared at me, like it was challenging me to prove my worth. 'Go on, Derek,' it seemed to be saying, 'You thought you could handle infinite knowledge. Live up to your deal, why don't you?'
Hubris. My seventh enemy. I didn't dwell too much on it. It was hard to tackle. It always is, and will be. Hubris, pride, arrogance. The triplet brothers of destruction that gave you a wide range of choices but encouraged you to choose the worst one. Pride is characterized by accomplishment. Hubris is characterized by self-importance. And arrogance? I never bartered with that brother. Everyone assumed they're the same thing. But my (corrupted) mind told me otherwise. They were different brothers, separated by boundaries so thin the regular conscience wouldn't be able to notice it. You'd never know where one ended and another began.
Pride was a virtue. Hubris was a flaw. Arrogance was an option.
All three of them were equally deadly.
All three of them provided you with confidence so impactful, you'd lose your reason. Why did you need that confidence? What did you have to achieve? I'd asked myself that question several times during the course of my life. What did I achieve from leaving my family behind? What did I achieve from not pursuing a doctorate in astronomy rather than informatic practices? What did I achieve from isolating myself from the outside world? What did I achieve from letting the King In Yellow rent a place in my head?
What did I achieve from pushing Avery off the ledge?
I achieved infinite knowledge. I achieved unreal wisdom. I achieved my goal of saving those who could've been puppets to the King's strings. I achieved my goal of saving Avery from Him. I achieved my goal of...
... Of what? Ultimately, where did all that lead me? To this? Out of all of that, the only thing that mattered to me was my last goal. Avery. Avery, who was a twenty-two-year-old college student with so much life left to live. Avery, who continued to mess up the easiest tasks in the most endearing way. Avery, who constantly lost track of his charger, or sometimes even his dinner, because he moved around so much. Avery, who felt like a burden on the shoulders of those who cared for him. Avery, who thought he owed his life to those who did the simplest acts of kindness for him.
"You have so much life left to live."
"YES, AND I OWE IT TO YOU!"
Avery, who deserved to be saved. If anything mattered, it was him. It made dying feel less cold. Even the fifth stage of grief, ultimately the most difficult one, felt easy. Acceptance.
I felt my consciousness accompany another's as He rummaged around in my mind, looking for memories He could use as His toys to torture me with. I felt His chuckle, dark and cutting, start off a searing pain that might melt my brain into just flesh and nerves. Nerves that had long back stopped working. If I fell from the terrace of a four-storey house, I could bet I wouldn't feel it. He would be there, in my head, commanding me, making me move, making me reach a different level of human life, if I still had mine by the end of this.
He would make it hard to breathe, to talk about anything without fearing a bolt of great pain. He would know how I strapped on my armor, every chink in it, where He could stick His weapon and vaporize me in an instant. I could feel Him possessing the middle part of my brain, then moving to the hind, then the forefront, until all I could really feel was Him. It made me feel thankful that the rest of the nerves in my body had stopped computing. The brain was the center of the nervous system. If He destroyed mine, how much more could those nerves handle?
I could feel the air in my lungs losing volume that I forgot was there. The ringing in my ears got dimmer, like they'd given up on me too. I tried to move my legs, but they were jammed from sitting in front of the computer for too long. I'd forgotten they were there. Was that how it worked? Know the most delicate facts in the universe but forget the most obvious ones?
I felt a beat behind my eyes. He'd saved my eyes for the last, hadn't He? Because that gave Him most pleasure. And I knew that. I knew all of it. Everything. What made Him angry enough to make it hurt, what made Him yell with defiance and raw, devilish power in my head. He, Hastur, was a man, a monster who knew He was crazy, and loved it. He loved it. I could tell He'd never loved a person.
I did. I loved people. Would this merging take that away too? What a depressing dying thought.
My body convulsed, and for a miniscule, terrifying moment, all I saw was yellow. Then my vision turned back to its normal, blurry state. I was dimly aware of the mini fridge next to my table, running out of electricity, like it sensed my soul thinning into nothing. The stale smell of old smoothies I'd been living on bombarded my nose, but I didn't react. After I'm dead, the removal staff would find my body lifeless anyway. A bit of rotten odor was the least of my worries.
I decided to take a risk. I looked away from the screen, my eyes half-lidded, trying their best not to roll up, and took a glance at my surroundings. No pain so far. My room reeked of those damned smoothies, bottles and cups I'd used as replacements for the restroom, empty packets of chips that had supplemented my abhorrent diet. But who cared? I didn't. Not anymore. Dirty laundry littered the bed. I'd been completely incapacitated, so I couldn't throw any of it far enough so at least it wouldn't be visible. A lamp on my bedside table flickered occasionally, as if deciding on its own last thoughts. It flickered two more times before the bulb completely shut down. It had taken its final breath too.
So I could too. It shouldn't be that bad. If I could keep Him under control, stuck inside one person, He won't escape outside. I didn't set those traps for nothing. I didn't solve an entire cipher stack with a pen and paper for nothing. I didn't solve all those puzzles for nothing. I didn't lie to Avery for nothing. Avery, my friend, he'd been so truthful. He'd done nothing but trust me. He'd been determined enough to risk his life for a man he didn't even know beyond his first name. He'd had to endure all those trippy, mind-bending dimensions to reach me. He'd spent his New Year's Eve playing Minecraft for thirteen hours, looking for a guy in a world that didn't exist.
A glass sphere burst inside my chest. It was 1st January today. And this was my fate. I'd lived twenty-four years of a tediously long, eventful life that was now coming to a slow finish. When other people's new goals began, mine ended. When their resolutions took shape, mine got lost. And Avery... this was what he was getting for New Year. A new dead friend. That wasn't your typical gift to give to the guy who went through hell for you. I couldn't help but feel that I'd ruined New Year permanently for him.
And I'd know how he'd feel later on. I'll always know. I'll never be able to do anything about it. Except...
I opened a blank Google Docs page. I had one final message to write. Looking at my computer's screen felt like a nightmare all over again, but if I could use my last moments reassuring Avery, I would. I had to. I couldn't let him think he failed me. He never did. He tried the hardest, knowing he had no clue where it would take him.
You know, it's weird writing a final letter.
It was. Usually, death didn't come asking you if you wanted it. It swooped down in one gliding dive and scooped you up, flying high before you even processed which brick was delinquent enough to fall on your head and kill you clean. You wouldn't have time to write a final letter. But here I was, hoping it'd reach Avery. If anyone needed it, it was him. He was there during the whole thing. He didn't see the monstrosity behind those looming golden gates, but I did. And this was all I could do to make sure that he'll be okay. He'll move on. Who didn't?
I just don't want to be forgotten. My head hurts like hell.
Forgotten. Like I'd forgotten my purpose of life while playing this harmless game. I'd forgotten my identity. Did I have a last name? Was I still D3rlord3 here? I'd forgotten everything I loved, because now that He was in my head, I couldn't love anymore. If I tried, I'd only use that person and discard them away like they were a disposable paper plate; no longer useful. The meaning of love, life, pride, hubris, arrogance, hate, frustration, anger, it all muddled in my head into one. Emotions weren't different now. The King felt only one, so that was what I would feel. Madness.
I can feel myself slipping as we become one.
Like I was a docile, weak plant and He was the parasite. He'd used me to get to Avery, but I'd halted that. Now I could feel Him in my head, beneath my skin, behind my eyes, between my ears, telling me in that low, haunting rasp to finally let go of my restraint and give in to Him. My mind was being flooded every minute with new knowledge, so much that it physically pained to keep my head from drooping as I typed. Every fact and figure melted into a labyrinth of sentences that was mine to stay in. I'd chosen this, hadn't I? I'd chosen to be His vessel.
So I'd pay for it, however much He liked. I'd do all in my power, all in my perishing glory to keep Him away from Avery. Away from someone who actually did deserve to live freely. Soon, I wouldn't know where my thoughts end and His began, so I had to make this quick. This letter had to make its way safely to the one friend who'd cared relentlessly for me.
And my mind becomes a prison.
And indeed, what a true shame it was. Me, Derek, the top student in every class, the voice of wisdom among chaos, the one with the methods, the plans, and the answers. The one people used to look up to. They'd single me out as the ultimate smartass, saying I was too all-knowing for their preference. I didn't know if that was His doing, or if I really had swallowed an encyclopedia as a kid. I didn't remember my childhood. I didn't remember anything but the knowledge that belonged to a god, slowly building itself inside my mind, trying to burrow its way to my soul. And now the same mind that used to get me the highest grades, had gotten me to the lowest point of my life. It'd trapped me.
Please don't think you failed, Avery. When you read this, don't think you let me down. You didn't.
The sweet, kind and caring Avery with that goofy slime Minecraft skin, the very same guy who told me I was a person. A person worth saving. I wasn't. I was too deep in whatever I'd started. By the time he'd reached to the fairy tale ending of 'doing everything together and living happily ever after', I'd planned my own dark ending because I'd resisted the happier one in favor of Avery. Avery was so worth it. The way he trusted me, it was almost as if he'd never known betrayal. Like he'd been surrounded by loving people throughout his existence.
But as an omniscient being now, I knew in my cracking heart that it wasn't the truth. Avery had had his fair share of troubles; a family that tried its best but was never enough, a cheating significant other, a barrage of failures in various exams, a few failed friendships, promises that were made to him but never fulfilled, the insecurity that worked though his veins and hindered him from doing great things.
You're capable of great things. You'll do great things.
He already had, and I wished nothing more than for him to know that. I knew him from start to finish. I knew his story, and hopefully, he'll tell mine to the world so that no one ever has to suffer what I went through. No one deserved a fate like that. Avery did not have the brains of a genius, but he had the heart of a lion. He had the will of a warrior, burying the tip of his sword into sandy earth, using the leverage to get up and fight. He had the ability to think strong. That kept him going. And it still would, even after I was long gone.
It doesn't take a god for me to figure that out. I know it, because I know you.
Knowing everything about a person and still seeing them as your hero was terribly utopian. If you knew all about your closest companion, you'd have at least one thing to dislike or hate. It was only a matter of time (that I did not have) that they showed you their true colors. They'd choose when to display their darkest habits in front of your eyes. My vision turned yellow for a short second again.
I knew Avery. Avery Adler, Adler meaning 'resilient'. Were his parents prophets? Astrologers? Did they know their son would turn out to be the personified form of the phrase 'where there is darkness, there is light'? But again, that view didn't sit too right with me. If that was true, then wherever there was light, there was darkness to complement it. They went hand-in-hand. Even so, the fact that he full-heartedly supported that ideology with not a single doubt in his mind, it was ethereal in itself. Maybe ethereal enough to surpass the power of a bossy Eldritch deity.
I yelped when sharp pain coursed through my body, digging inside my muscles the way a predator devours its prey. Maybe insulting Him wasn't the best form of action while writing a goodbye note. I'd save that for the afterlife.
Goodbye, my friend.
Or maybe the pain was the commencing gunshot before a race. This time, it didn't feel cold. I'd taken my time to come to terms with it. I'd explained to myself, chiding my Minecraft avatar, telling that Spartan block-man to get it together. I'd told myself it was going to happen, and all I could do was sit back and take it. There was no way out. All doors were closed.
Was this how Avery felt when I told him to leave? Helpless? Frustrated? Pained? Overcome with the desire to get it over with? Defeated? If that was true, then maybe I hadn't done everything right after all, despite of the infinite knowledge. So much of it, but no way to use it properly. Avery didn't deserve to feel like that after committing a hero's deed. He was supposed to be proud, standing firm and rigid, knowing he'd saved millions over millions of people. One single young man capable of all that, it deserved an award. I had to make this letter worth it. Make it worth what I wasn't.
Whatever you do at the crossroads. Keep going forward.
The crossroads that had started all of it. I'd given him one warning. Don't. Turn. Left. I'd repeated it seven times in the book, and then tossed it into the chest that lied in that secluded stone mine. And yet, this ended up happening. Avery turned left. And now that I knew everything, I knew he'd chosen left on most of his choices. But these bad choices weren't fueled by pride, or hubris or arrogance. No, they took real gut that only Avery had. He found in him methods to break the system, loopholes to follow through, anything that outwardly seemed useless, but he made it work.
Maybe our methods were different. I used calculations and speculations. I had the brain and facts sorted neatly in my head before He took over. I used my intelligence and wit, and basic game rules of course, to escape. Avery, meanwhile, he'd been blessed by sheer luck that was supported by his will. I'd watched the instance he'd read that book in the church, assuring him he was safe, that nothing could hurt him there, and then he'd begun his trance of planting blue orchids, clearing and filling the brick well, and fighting stray weeds on the grassy floor.
He'd never felt safety.
And he'd taken it when it was offered. That twelve-hour trance was stuffed into my memory like a huge ball of cotton; you can fit however much of it you like in a small cranny, as long as you squish it to a fine thread.
Avery would be facing a lot of crossroads in his future. And he'd make great choices. Choices that were based on his heart's intent, that meant the good for everyone, because Avery wasn't bad. Most of all, he had a future. Ahead of him. He'd live. The thought was so strong, it overpowered His influence on me for just a microsecond. Not useful, but that reprieve, that feeling of knowing the person you'd die for was going to live a long life ever after, that feeling made it all so worth it.
Avery was worth it.
I had to add one more fact.
Or something like that
(I was never really good with endings)
My fingers hovered over the mouse's body, clutching onto it and watching the web auto-save the file. I didn't click anything. I just had to leave it there. Avery was smart enough to know that that gibberish I sent in the library would be a Google Drive link. He'd find the letter. And he'd read it. I knew it. All of it. I knew how he would mourn and cry and weep for a friend that was never really his. I knew how he would beat himself up over for months and years on end. But Avery would live a life free of Eldritch horrors. That was what mattered. Grief, he'd deal with. They had therapists for a reason. Acceptance, he had to salvage for himself. But there was no King In Yellow to ruin him.
A spike of pain erupted in my chest, like I'd narrowly dodged a cardiac arrest. I gritted my teeth. I would not give Him the satisfaction of my tears and fears. I would not give Him more than what I'd given Him. I'd given Him my body. My mind. My control. What more could He want? Actually, the smarter question would be what could He not want? He'd taken all of it. He'd taken everything I'd offered Him on a silver platter with so much glee, like it was rightfully His. I was rightfully His. He was the master, and I was the puppet. I'd tricked Him enough. Now it was His turn.
I closed Google Docs.
"You have said your goodbyes, my loyal Lord," His voice was back, ghosting over my skin in tender, loving touches, almost like He was afraid to break me. But I knew that wasn't the case. He'd already gotten through me. Nothing He could do to cause me more agony. He was just inspecting me, like a hunter checking out His newest catch, lifting the net in the most fragile manner, so the prey doesn't flee. Then, He pounces.
"I'm not your loyal Lord," I declared aloud. He laughed, like He thought the statement incredulous. For all it was worth, it was everything. Maybe I'd go to hell for bestowing this night of horror upon Avery, but if I did, I'd take the god to hell with me.
A god. Going to hell. Isn't it ironic?
"You are very brave, my loyal Lord," I wanted Him to stop calling me that, stop making my skin feel like frostbite, and my eyes, they were unnaturally wet. I raised a callous, disturbingly thin hand to touch my face. My hand came back with blood. For a second, I just stared. I stared like I'd never seen blood before. My eyes would've been a horror movie survivor's nightmare. Red, like Crimson Forests. Red, like Mushroom blocks. My gaze turned fully crimson, like I was experiencing the wrath of Ares himself.
The room looked shrouded in red light, even though there wasn't any light at all. It was the middle of the night, the first day of January. The bedside lamp I'd had on for the few months had run out of electricity. My entire house had. Save for the stupid computer. I was sure His power was keeping it on. It should die. I should break it. I should break it apart into so many countless pieces that no one would have any luck in putting it back together. Not even the greatest professionals.
The last thing I saw Avery on.
"Your bold actions have made it possible for me," He spoke, prideful, His oily voice making my stomach churn. "to know how such strong, powerful men of great valor can be reduced into nothing," He lowered down into a whisper, like He wanted no one to hear it, but me. "You. Are. Nothing. You are my loyal Lord. A container. A puppet. Together you and I, Derek-" keep my real name out of your mouth, "- we'll make history. Break history. We'll spread chaos. Or to make it clear," His voice turned so dark, I felt the temperature drop, too aware of my red sight. "I will spread chaos. You will be my servant. After all, you gave up your life for that of my intended vessel." Saving Avery had been right, my internal voice said.
"Right for him," He agreed. "But not so much for you, my loyal Lord. You will disintegrate. You will know pain and horror beyond any being to have ever existed. You will know loss. You will know the price of victory. Your hubris often got the worst of you, but trust me on this," the King's tone turned even lower, almost like He was purring in anticipated triumph. The thrum of His voice echoed inside my frame, resonating in my bones, causing my arteries to swell. I could feel my blood stop. It gathered in the canals, swirling around, looking for an exit it would never find.
I could feel His blood -- the blood of a god, ichor, -- fill in as replacement. A replacement, which, over time, would become the original. "You are replaceable," even He agreed. The cells fused in, and maybe it was just my bloody eyes, but when I looked at my arms, they were smoking. They'd turned a shade of burning red, like they were being roasted on hot coals. Silhouettes of tons of veins and arteries lit up under my skin, glowing a beautiful golden.
A beautiful golden. How could I even have the ability to call it beautiful? How could such an evil thing be beautiful? "Death is evil," the King reasoned, His voice leveled. "And it is beautiful." Was it, though?
"It is, Derek. Death feels like everything and nothing. It feels unreal. It feels, looks, sounds and even tastes beautiful," His words were certain, determined, empathetic, like He'd experienced the feeling first-hand and absolutely loved it, craved it, wanted it. I felt a ghostly warmth around my chest, like He was a little child, holding me like His favorite toy to play with. He wouldn't let go.
"I won't," He assured direly, His voice now completely soft, sickeningly sweet and loving, like He was touching my face with the gentlest of hands while saying it. "But you would."
Just like how several million lives had flashed before my eyes, my vision turned from red-gold (like my Minecraft skin... what a disgusting coincidence) to black in a heartbeat.
Like fate was laughing at me.