I hope you enjoy these sample chapters of God’s Eye: Awakening!

Please enjoy these sample chapters of:

God's Eye

The long awaited second series of the Labyrinth Universe!

Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to continue your adventure, you can do it with the Ebook or the Audio :)

The Prologue begins!

Prologue

617,827,053 breaths. 

That was the original measurement of Remington’s life.

At the time of his birth, the Fates of the Skein had determined exactly how much time he would be allotted and what he would do with it.  His would be a life of honorable achievement.  Of sadness, true, but of far more joy.  Of children and warm hearths, and finally, after a life well spent, he would be gifted with a dignified death. 

It was true that predicting the weave of Fate’s strings was harder on Earth due to the Chaos in every Earthling.  Still, the predictions of Fate could be relied upon.  For even in a system of the greatest Order, there is the possibility of Chaos, and even in a world of pure Chaos, Order can be found. 

Put another way, Fate’s plans went FUBAR when a bolt of pure Higher Energy struck the world.  The Wyrd Skein was torn asunder, and the three immortal sisters found their own fates to be at risk.  In the days following the Forsaking when the sky turned a roiling grey, some lived that should have died, and many, many more died that should have lived. 

Threads were cut short, and countless new threads were woven into the story of Earth.  No being, no matter how powerful, could now predict the future of the planet.  The destinies of billions were set free to float on the winds of Change and Chance.  One such soul was now running for his life. 

***

Screams filled the night and the sour tang of vomit filled the air.  Remy’s heart beat harder than ever before.  Though neither he nor any other being could know, he was gasping the final breaths of his tragically shortened life.

107 breaths remaining.

Sweat ran down Remy’s face and plastered his shirt to his back.  He didn’t even notice.  His heart also thudded hard enough to cause physical pain.  Even that didn’t capture his attention.  All he was thinking about were the living and the dead.

Two hundred and fifty-nine of them had fled the city.  Every one of those hundreds of souls had agreed to run to the dubious safety of this old army bunker.  Only sixty-eight remained.  Fifty-five had made it into the fortified structure that would hopefully be their new home and salvation.  Twelve more prayed to any deity that would listen while they tried to make it to the fortified door.  One stood at the threshold.

Remy stood in the doorway, one hand braced against its frame, and bellowed, “Run!  Run!  They’re coming after you!”

105 breaths remaining.

The only answer was the agonized scream of a woman.  Sara was an overweight suburban mom that had managed to survive when so many others had died.  You wouldn’t have thought she would make it through the last days of hell on Earth, but she had discovered a strong will to live.  Where others had succumbed, she had fought tooth and nail to survive.  She had gained the respect of everyone in the group.  Within eyesight of safety, however, her story came to an end. 

A mutated cat, black with red claws, jumped out of the darkness.  It was no mere housecat.  It had the size and physique of a mountain lion and easily bore her screaming figure to the ground.  The two rolled in a violent struggle, but there was no doubt as to the outcome.  Within the first few seconds, Sara’s red blood splattered in broad arcs across the grass.  In the twilight it looked black.  The shadow cat gouged, bit, and clawed while she screamed and begged for mercy. 

Remy watched with a tight jaw, but did not leave the safety of the doorway.  When a group of people survived days of death and hopelessness, they could form bonds strong enough to last a lifetime.  Her screams for help echoed through the night, but not one of the other eleven slowed down or even looked back. 

No one was coming to help her. 

In this new world, no paltry bond of friendship would protect you when monsters prowled.  Misplaced mercy would kill you as quickly as a fang or claw. 

They weren’t men and women of the Western Confederation any more.  Nations, gender, and race no longer mattered.  Idealism was for fools.  Most idealists had died out in the first few days of monster attacks.  Those that survived lived only to feel those soft feelings crushed by the weight of reality.  They were all Forsaken now.  All that mattered was survival. 

Instead of stopping or helping, they just used her agonized screams as motivation to run faster.  Their legs pumped like pistons.   They all heard the yowling screeches of more monsters closing in.  When given a choice between heeding the threatening roars of monsters or the begging of a woman who was already almost dead, the answer was obvious.  The most kindhearted of the eleven just wished her a quick death.  The more pragmatic of them hoped that she suffered as long as possible.  Her screams might distract some of the monsters and provide the rest of them with precious time.     

Remy watched as the woman went down, as more blood sprayed across the ground, as Sara continued to fight, frantically pushing at the partially insubstantial body of the shadow cat.  Her efforts accomplished nothing.  The only reason she was still alive was because the monster hadn’t gone for the kill yet.  Mutated or not, the beast still had the personality of a cat.  It was playing with its food. 

The dark skin on Remy’s face stretched as his jaw clenched even tighter.  Still, he didn’t leave the doorway.  He knew the same thing the remaining eleven runners did.  She was already dead.  Her body just hadn’t caught up to that fact yet.  Instead, he looked at the men and women he could still save.  Remy’s eyes locked onto the man lagging the farthest behind.  Jay was a father, a good man.  He was the kind of guy you would be lucky to have at your back.  The only reason he was lagging behind was that he held his little boy in his arms.  Even at fifty paces, Remy could see the whites of the man’s fear-swollen eyes. 

100 breaths remaining. 

Remy shouted for him to run faster, but it was obvious Jay was at the end of his stamina.  He was falling farther behind the others with every second.  Exhaustion was putting lie to the belief that parents could do anything to save their children.  The monsters crooned in excitement at seeing weaker members of the herd struggle and fall behind.  The sound deepened Jay's fear into terror.  Froth appeared at the corner of his lips, and his son sobbed into his chest. 

I can’t look back!  I can’t let go!  Those two thoughts were on repeat in Jay’s mind as he gripped his small son to his chest.  Don’t look back.  Don’t let go.  Don’t look back.  Don’t let go! 

With fell, inevitable cruelty, two shadow cats emerged from the darkness and leaped.  Their combined weight easily overwhelmed Jay and drove his body to the ground.  One swipe of red talons opened up three jagged wounds in his back.  His back arched and he shrieked in agony. 

Most people would be surprised that such a large man would make such a high-pitched sound.  Remy was not.  He’d seen hardened soldiers cry for their mothers as they bled out far from home.  To him, there was neither surprise nor shame.  Everyone went out in their own way.  In the end, it just didn’t matter.  Dead was dead. 

In Jay’s pain-addled state, he lost his grip on his son.  The second cat sank its teeth deep into the boy’s shoulder.  The three-year-old cried out in pain and fear.  He screamed for his father, the invincible figure that had always kept him safe.  He screamed it over and over while the shadow beast mauled him.  The only blessing was that the cries did not last long.  He died still believing he would be saved.  Jay howled, “No!” as the last member of his family was literally ripped from his arms.  

The last sight Jay had was another shadow cat clamping its jaws over his son’s face before jerking its head to the side.  The small body twitched spasmodically after the neck snapped.  A foul scent revealed the child had soiled his pants. 

The world of the Forsaken showed the full extent of its mercy in that the father’s throat was ripped out before he saw his son being eaten piece by quivering piece.  As their blood spilled out on the grassy field, the last vestige of their bloodline disappeared forever. 

95 breaths remaining.

Damn you, Remy thought.  His fingers gripped the doorway so hard his knuckles turned white.  Yet still he remained in the bunker.  He couldn’t help either of them, and he wouldn’t waste the life left in him for nothing.  He and everyone else on Earth were Forsaken, and the weak would die sooner or later.  Instead, he shouted once more for the survivors to run faster. 

Remy’s eyes flashed upward in a particular way.  His HUD phased into existence, and he examined the three bars in the upper left corner.  They were the same length and were each a different color: red, blue and green.  He grunted, seeing the purple corruption infesting the red line.  It was what he’d expected, but it still sickened him.  Breathing out, he focused on the full green and blue bars.  They would have to do. 

He turned his focus back to the men and women running for their lives.  In the back of his mind, he reflected on the insanity of the world he was living in.  Everything had changed when that “heads-up display” or “interface” had appeared in the vision of every person on Earth.  It was the same moment they were all notified that their world was now connected to the Labyrinth, whatever that was. 

Since then people had come to accept that if they let their eyes unfocus, they could pull up their very own video game interface.  They had also figured out that it could give them information and even make them stronger.  Some had gained significant powers. The “Able.”  That was what people had started calling the minority of the human race that had been granted an ability during the Forsaking. 

 Remy was one of those precious few.  His ability was only second rank, uncommon, far from the nearly superhero capabilities that others had gained.  Still, it had let him teach a few survivors to develop their own skills, attacks and defenses.  Being “Able” had played no small part in making him the de facto leader of this group, even though that thought seemed like a cruel joke.  What kind of leader lost nearly eighty percent of his people?

Dark figures continued to materialize out of the night, each a monster capable of killing a full-grown man in single combat.  They gave chase while the survivors sprinted for their lives.  A teenage boy was the next to fall.  His screams were bloodcurdling as two of the cat monsters sliced through his Achilles.  The boy’s shrieks only grew in pitch and volume as he was dragged off into the night.  Remy realized he didn’t even remember the kid’s name. 

The next to go was a father who chose to spend his life to save his family.  He knew what was about to happen to him, but still he bought his wife and daughter precious seconds.  The little girl was peeking over her mother’s shoulder, and watched her father turn to face the monsters.  She reached her small hand backward and screamed “Daddy!” but her mother held on tightly to her squirming body.  The woman’s heart was breaking, but still she sprinted for the safety of the bunker door. 

The nail-studded bat the father held glowed red for just a moment as he activated Sweeping Blow.  The weapon moved almost on its own.  The speed with which it cut through the air was far faster than the man should have been able to manage.  More, it struck not one but three cat monsters all at once.  The trio of monsters were knocked backward, rolling back along the ground.  Sadly, the special attack was not without its price. 

The man’s stamina was already low from running; the special attack bottomed it out.  The father fell to his hands and knees, gasping.  It felt like he’d sprinted uphill in a Georgia summer.  He could barely focus.  The edges of his vision blackened. 

Another cat approached him cautiously.  It sniffed and circled his body to see if he would attack again.  The man glared at it, but could do nothing more than heave labored breaths.  Seconds later, it sprung onto his back and sank its fangs into his neck.  A strangled huff mixed with his ragged breathing.  More blood spilled onto the ground.  A wheezing groan came out and he collapsed to the ground.  Seconds later, four more cats latched on, eating him alive.  In his last seconds the brave man lost all semblance of courage.  His cries filled the air.  He screamed for his mother as he pissed himself. 

Remington just nodded at the man’s passing and picked up his gun.  It was almost time. 

81 breaths remaining. 

Remy had made a promise to get these people to safety.  He wasn’t a fool and wouldn’t waste his life if he couldn’t help, but he was no coward.  It could easily be argued that he had done enough getting any of them to the bunker.  God knows it hadn’t been easy, and there had been sacrifices.  Even though he would not waste his life on a hopeless cause, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t spit in Fate’s eye if he found a worthy one.  He saw just such a cause in the pleading eyes of the mother running toward him.  Saving a woman and her child was a good thing to buy with the life he had left.  

He’d left men and women to die before.  Just like he’d watched Sara and Jay die, he could see the big picture and act accordingly.  Making difficult decisions did not weigh him down like it did so many others.  That didn’t mean he had no heart, contrary to what many in his life had thought.  Instead, it meant that his heart was just harder and rougher than others.  He was willing to bear pains that others were not.  If he thought there was no hope for the people running, he would have already shut the door.  Point in fact, Remy had two distinct reasons for leaving the safety of the shelter.

One, he was sure that he could help at least some of the runners make it.  More accurately, he was sure he could improve their chances.  That fact made it easier to focus on the task at hand.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t feel fear or doubt.  Those emotions just didn’t stop him from anything he decided needed to be done.  He’d learned long ago that pain was a lesser burden than regret.  Remington had sworn to help these people.  He would try to fulfill that promise if he could, even if it meant risking his life.

Two, he hadn’t made it through the last several days unscathed.  There had been a personal cost to getting his group to the bunker.  A bite from a small mutated insect, like a flying ant with a scorpion’s tail, had done him more damage than any monster.  After everything he had lived through, before and after the Forsaking, the thought that a bug bite was going to do him in had made him chuckle more than once.  Not a bullet.  Not a bomb.  A bug bite.  He’d climbed over the bodies of his comrades, swum through rivers turned red with blood, and in the end, it was shitting on an anthill that was going to do him in.   

In the past few days, the bite had grown from a small red nodule to a golf ball-sized hole in his side.  The edges were black and necrotic.  Tendrils of infection spread out from the wound.  The contamination reached across his chest and down his leg.  He’d held some hope that the bunker might have antibiotics, but in the last day he’d come to realize that a shot of penicillin was not going to kill whatever organism was eating him alive.  Better to make his last days count for something. 

Gripping his rifle, he took a step out of the bunker.  Before he could take a second, a hand grabbed his coat sleeve.  Looking back, he met his sister’s eyes.   

“What are you going to do?” she asked, already knowing the answer.   

She asked the question in a tone that was half accusation and half begging.  It held a pleading intensity that was reflected in her fevered eyes.  Her face was also wan from blood loss and fever.  She had lost three fingers in an attack five days ago.  Now the entire limb was fire-engine red and the stumps were black.  She didn’t say anything else, but the plea in her rheumy eyes was obvious.  Don’t leave me, they said.  For once, don’t try and be the hero.  Don’t risk your life.  Let them die.   

The look in his own eyes was all the answer she needed.  Love, apology, and steely resolve.  Maybe if he was the hero she thought he was, he would have stayed.  What she did not know was that he had killed more people than any of these monsters.  He had sent countless more to their deaths.  Again and again, he had made difficult, blood-drenched choices that men and women of conscience would balk at.  He had committed atrocities for his Federation, for his people, for his government. 

He was no hero. 

That was why his government had always called on him.  He was the one who would always look at the bigger picture and then just wash the blood from his hands when he was done.  Now, however, there was no bigger picture.  There was just a child he could help with the fading life that was still in his body.  Preserving decades of potential in exchange for the few pain-filled days he had left was a good deal, plain and simple.

He didn’t tell her any of that.  Honesty and truth had never been major priorities.  Instead, he just spoke the words that his mother instilled in them their entire lives.  Words he knew that would comfort her.

“We stand.”

Hearing that, something almost physical broke inside of her.  She let go of him, in body, mind and heart, just as he knew she would.  Tears began to form, but she didn’t let them fall.  If her brother could be brave, she thought, then so could she. 

For his part, Remy didn’t waste any more time or breath on goodbyes.  Instead, he took that second step out of the bunker and raised the rifle to his shoulder.  Focusing, he poured his will into the weapon and brought the stock up to his cheek.  A now-familiar overlay appeared in his vision as he accessed his Sure Shot skill.  Reticles appeared over each enemy in his view and greatly increased his accuracy. 

With a second exertion of will, each bullet in the rifle was infused with gold-white light.  He had no idea how it worked but, thanks to a skill, he could pour “mana” into each bullet.  It made his shots hit harder.  That was necessary because the monsters and invaders seemed to be able to shrug off normal bullets.  In the past few days, Remy had had plenty of time to shake his head at the insanity of these new “natural laws.”  All he cared about in that moment though was bringing the pain. 

Activating his skills took barely any time at all.  In fact, it was done by the time he took his fourth step away from the bunker.  Despite his speed, he’d unknowingly just spent a major portion of the life he had left.  

69 breaths remaining. 

After triggering Ammo of Light, his mana had plummeted by more than half.  It gave him a headache, but Remy pushed it aside.  His focus was on the enemy and the innocents.  The former soldier sighted through the ACOG scope and squeezed, never pulled, the trigger.  Three rounds shot from the end of the barrel in a second.  Each tore through the air, trailing white light.  All three exploded into the body of one of the cats. 

Fifty yards away the bullets entered the monster, the kinetic damage amplified by Remy’s use of Light mana.  He didn’t know it, but the cat was at least partially a Dark creature.  The opposing nature of his attack greatly magnified the damage.  Three grievous wounds appeared in its body.  It dropped to the ground, dead.  Remy had already sighted on another and three more white tracers filled the night. 

With his increased accuracy and damage, the closest members of the pack were soon dispatched, giving his people precious seconds.  Even as he replaced the mag, his breath came in heavy gasps.  Sure Shot increased the likelihood that he hit his target, something absolutely necessary with the agile cats, but it drained his stamina every second he used it.  His mana had also bottomed out when he used Ammo of Light on the second mag.  The magic depletion brought on a splitting headache that made it harder to think.  When he fired again the bullets glowed, but didn’t have the white tracing of magic.  He just hadn’t been able to put as much mana into the second round.  Because of that, the bullets did considerably less damage.  It didn’t matter to Remy.  He kept firing.

57 breaths remaining.

Under his cover fire, survivors made it into the bunker, including the mother and her child.  The woman actually increased her pace somehow and made it to the bunker ahead of some of the others.  Seeing her run past him brought a smile to his lips.  The whole time he never stopped firing, advancing all the while. 

When the last living member of his group finally ran by, hope surged in his breast.  It was another suburban mom, Jenny.  She was still wearing the ripped and filthy designer track suit she’d had on when the world ended.  At some point the rhinestones on her bottom had probably spelled “PINK,” but now it just read “IN.” 

Jenny had clearly been a Buckhead Betty, one of the young trophy wives who looked down on Publix and only shopped at Whole Foods or the farmer’s market.  Now though, her cheeks were sunken and her face was gaunt from weeks of near-starvation.  Sweat drenched her body and made her skin shine in the fading light.  She looked him in the eye as she passed, her gaze filled with both fear and gratitude.  Remy just nodded, keeping his rifle trained on the cats that were coming ever closer. 

“Keep going!” he shouted, while he started backing up.  “I’ll hold them back.”

“Thank you,” she cried.  It was more sobbing gasp than pronounced words, but she did as she was told.

Remy kept firing as he retreated.  His eyes were on a swivel, trying to keep track of the shadowy bodies of the predator cats.  Not an easy task as they all but disappeared when they stepped into shadows.  When his mag ran dry, the monsters slowed to an aggressive stalk.  They all glared at him malevolently but didn’t rush forward. 

He kept his gun raised but didn’t fire.  This was his last mag, and he didn’t have any mana to use his skill again.  Remy had managed to kill more than ten of the monsters, but they just stepped over their fallen without a glance.  The man pointed his gun at one of them, then another, hoping they were smart enough to be afraid but not smart enough to know that his stamina and mana were almost at zero. 

39 breaths remaining.

For a moment, he allowed himself to think that everything would be okay.  That his foolish gamble would pay off and he would make it safely back to the bunker having saved some lives.  That was when he heard the scream.  Risking a look behind him, he saw Jenny lying in a pool of her own blood.  Two cats had circled around behind him and caught her before she could make it to safety.  He looked past the duo now feasting on the woman’s flesh and saw more shadow cats running toward the entrance to the fortified structure only thirty yards away. 

Remy looked past Jenny’s mutilated body and locked eyes with his sister.  She was still standing in the doorway, her one good hand on the knob.  She silently begged him to somehow run faster than the bounding cats.  To make it back to safety and to not leave her.  He gave her the smallest shake of his head, and his face communicated a simple request. 

Close the door.

22 breaths remaining.

Her heart broke, but they had both been raised by the same strong woman.  Neither was afraid to face the truth, and neither shied from difficult tasks.  With a fractured cry, she slammed the heavy door shut and threw the bolt just in time.  One of the shadow cats threw its body against the door so hard that it fractured its spinal column.  The impact made a bone-cracking crunch. 

The other monstrous cats immediately began scratching at the wood.  Their claws gouged deep furrows in the door, but only the outer door was made of oak.  The inner door was solid steel.  She closed that as well, and locked it seconds after the first.  The only light was the faint red from the hazard bulbs.  In near darkness, she stared at the chrome metal door as if trying to see through it.  Trying to let her brother know that he wasn’t alone even though he was.  A thick strand of spider silk drifted down and caressed her tear-streaked face.  After yanking it away in shock and disgust, she noticed there were a good number of webs farther down the corridor, still thick even after everyone had walked down it. 

Outside, a low-pitched growl made Remy snap his head forward again.  He had only looked away for a second, but some of the cats stalking him had covered more than half the distance between them.  They weren’t slowing down.  After having been through so many life-and-death struggles, he knew what was about to happen.  He’d survived more times than he could count, but this time something inside him knew that there would be no escape.  As the end of his journey raced toward him, he realized, with a slight bit of shock, that in addition to the adrenaline, pain and a wisp of fear, what he felt most was… free. 

Soon, he could let go of his chained rage, his impotent fury at trying to make an ever-worsening world a better place.  Soon, the clogged poison in his soul would weep, and he wouldn’t have to worry about fitting into society, about being a “good” person, about keeping the monster inside him at bay.  His entire life, he’d struggled against the violence and anger that always seemed to be right below the surface.  He’d joined the military to channel his impulses.  He’d been recruited by the Organization to release them. 

He had tried to balance out the lives he took after leaving the service.  He’d gone into medicine to square his cosmic debt, though, truth be told, it was more to humor his mother than anything else.  As it turned out, even in the hospital he couldn’t run from what he was.  He’d been drawn to blood and trauma, once again making dispassionate decisions that carried the weight of life and death.  Every action and decision of his life had been aimed at “that part” of himself.  Now though, he could just be what he was.  Now, and forever more, he could be free.

There wasn’t much time left, but with the time he had, he was going to share his anger!  There was a savage smile on his face as he squeezed the trigger again and again.  Cats fell, but countless more kept running toward him.  Guess Uncle Yo was right, he thought with a grin, pussy really will be the death of me. 

With the stock at his cheek, Remy squeezed the trigger and pumped rounds into the circling shadow cats.  He pulled the trigger until he heard the inevitable click, click, click.  The rifle was empty.

The pack seemed to know he was no longer a threat.  They slowed down again and began to creep forward like an unstoppable black tide.  The cats did not have the intelligence of a human.  What they did understand, however, was pain.  They also understood suffering, and they loved them both.  At the end of their prey’s life, they followed the instincts of their evil hearts and savored the hopelessness of the bleeding man before them.  After all, surrounded and alone in the dark, what could he possibly do?

Hearing their yowls and soft screeches, the small wisp of fear Remington had felt disappeared.  Anger filled the void.  He had been through too many battles to delude himself that he’d survive long.  He knew that these were his last minutes.  That didn’t bother him.  He’d spent his life well.  As far as he was concerned, the people he’d just saved were worth what was about to happen.  He wasn't worried about his impending death.  What really pissed him off was that he could feel the arrogance and scorn of the beasts.  They were looking down on him.  Dismissing him.  Silently asking the same question that so many others had asked when they told him he wasn’t good enough. 

What can you possibly do?

He had the same answer he always had.

“I can do anything,” he spat at them in defiance.

Reaching one hand into the diseased wound in his side, he dug out a handful of congealed blood and pus.  It cost him a few health points, but that wouldn’t matter soon.  He reached down to his waist for the foot-long knife he’d taken from a hardware store.  He liberally smeared his own filth on the blade.  It wouldn’t kill any more monsters before he died, but maybe, just maybe, he’d pull a few more of these bastards into the abyss with him after he was gone.

“Well,” he shouted as loudly as his weakened body would allow, “let’s finish this!” 

The monsters could not understand him, but they agreed to his terms all the same.  The rest of the pack sprang forward like a shadowy black wave.  Angry yowls filled the air.  He swung his weapon and scored a deep cut against the face of one of the cats.  It was knocked to the ground.  Before it even landed, he was already swinging at another. 

This time, his knife bit deep into a monster’s shoulder.  His attack stopped its pounce, but his weapon caught in its flesh.  It was only stuck for a second, but that was long enough.  Another jumped on him at the same time, raking its Dark magic-enhanced claws down his left side.  Remy cried out in pain and fury.  His blood flowed fast and thick. 

14 breaths remaining.

Turning awkwardly, he chopped at the head of the cat that had sunk its teeth into him.  It growled deeply but didn’t let go.  He pulled his arm back to swing again, but a second cat pounced before the strike could land.  It caught his right wrist in a bite that fractured bone. 

Remy screamed in spite of himself and fell to one knee.  Before he could do anything more, a third monster dove onto his back and rode him to the ground.  He fell on top of the one biting his wrist.  With madness-induced strength, he bit its ear and tore it free of its head.  The cat screeched and Remy smiled, blood caking his teeth.  A sick and cheerful laugh gurgled from his throat. 

3 breaths remaining.

That was his last victory.  After that, the shadow cats piled on.  Then he felt only pain.  The stink of his blood was heavy in the air.  Lust-frenzied cries filled the night and monsters fought over the right to tear off pieces of his flesh.

2 breaths remaining.

He’d never felt pain like this before, but even as he wailed, something inside of him let go.  At last, he was free.  Free from expectations.  Free from the selfish people who screamed arguments they didn’t understand simply because they enjoyed screaming.  Free from the contradiction that had made every day a confusing agony. 

Free from the lesson of his father.

Free from the command of his mother.

1 breath remaining.

A cat bit into his neck, tearing into his carotid artery.  His lifeblood geysered into the monster’s mouth and his thoughts came to an end.   The breath escaped his body with a sigh, and a final bolded prompt appeared in his vision, heavy with finality. 

You have died.

Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to continue your adventure, you can do it with the Ebook or the Audio :)

Chapter 1 begins!

CHAPTER 1

Ignorance was bliss.

Remy had always thought that death would mean everything going black.  Maybe there would be a tunnel with a bright light.  He’d hoped it wouldn’t be a falling sensation swiftly followed by a great deal of heat and the scent of brimstone.  Truth be told, he wouldn’t have been overly surprised by that last one. 

What happened though was that the world froze and was bleached of color.  The next moment, he was outside of his body, dispassionately watching the shadow cats devour his mortal coil.  He couldn’t muster any emotions.  Even when one of the monsters pulled his leg free from his torso, he didn’t have an emotional reaction to it.  Intellectually, Remy knew that he should be bothered by his own mutilation, but he felt nothing.  He floated away, not higher necessarily, just “away” somehow.  Everything grew darker and darker until all he could see was blackness. 

Then he saw the light.  Above him, a glowing white portal appeared and his astral self flew toward it.  The gateway radiated an energy that made him start to feel things again.  It was like the photons flying toward him were each engraved with messages of contentment, peace and love.  It felt like seeing a warm glow through your house’s front window after finishing a cross-country drive.  It felt like he was going home. 

As he floated toward the portal, he thought back on his life.  He thought of the years of service when he had “protected” his country.  He thought about his family, the good times and the bad, and knew beyond any doubt that there had been more “good.”  He thought about his sister, hiding in the bunker, and hoped that she would be alright. 

With each thought that flashed through his mind, and with each moment of his life that he replayed, he let go of his mortal attachments.  The reports of “one’s life flashing before one’s eyes” had apparently been true.  It was the first part of a necessary process to truly embrace the next phase of existence.  More of Remy’s bonds to his old life were peeled away as he drifted closer to the shining gateway.  By the time he was in front of it, he was left with a very simple conclusion.

He was ready.

It was time.

Right when he was about to pass on to the next phase of existence, however, a force grabbed his astral self and ripped him away from the welcoming light.  Remy was only able to keep the portal in sight for a billionth of a second, but he thought the white luminescence had flashed an ominous, angry red.  He would never be sure though, because he was pulled away so fast that everything was a blur. 

As he flew away from that portal to the beyond, all his memories and thoughts slammed back into his “self.”   He couldn’t feel actual pain, but after being in a state of near-total enlightenment, then having it ripped away from him, Remy was more than ready to cut a bitch.  He would have shamed the devil with his cursing if he still had a mouth. 

There had been no sounds since his death, but now what he heard was a great vortex of wind.  Remy wondered if it was his imagination.  Were the remnants of his consciousness adding fictitious sensory input?  He felt like he was moving fast, but without a body how could he be moving at all?  How could he hear the wind?  Then the time for wondering was past.  The feeling of movement decreased before coming to an abrupt stop.  He was somehow able to cast his gaze around, and what he saw made the last vestiges of his old self feel pure terror.

He knew where he was.  This was what people had come to call a Death Zone.  It was a location that every human on Earth avoided.  All that waited here was a brutal and painful death.  That hadn’t always been the case, but it’d been true ever since these words had been emblazoned across the vision of every living man, woman and child: 

Your world is now part of the Labyrinth

Remy struggled to free himself from the invisible bonds that held him, but he was helpless.  His astral self continued floating forward.  Humans had come to call this a Death Zone, but it had another name.  It was an entrance to the Labyrinth.  It was a Dungeon.   

His consciousness felt the barest hint of resistance as it passed through the energy field of the Dungeon’s mouth.  Then, a minute later, after zipping through many turns of the Dungeon, he passed through another portal and entered the Labyrinth itself.  After that his speed picked up even more, so fast that it shamed his previous movement.  Even though he lacked a body, the magical force of his passage crushed his astral consciousness to the size of a grain of sand’s left nut.  Everything went black again.   

The next thing Remy knew, he was in an open space so immense that he could not see the sides or the ceiling.  What he did see when he looked around was a swirling grey… something.  The environs were both wonderfully familiar and strangely disconcerting.  His mind began to warp.  He was old and young at the same time.  His chromosomes rearranged, and he became a she.  Then he was back to himself, but he had been born a twin.  He was the twin.  He murdered his brother.  He could not remember why!

Remy’s mind began to splinter until the force holding him aloft exerted a new form of pressure.  It counteracted the effects of the Probability Curve and let him maintain a rudimentary sense of self.  He moved through the Formless Infinite.  In time a massive platform came into view and panic flared once again in his ghostly heart.  There were rows, endless rows, of people strapped to tables.  Some were smiling, some were screaming, but most just lay there unblinking as they stared up at the swirling grey “stuff” that was all around them. 

He was afraid he would be strapped to one of those tables, but the force transporting him carried him on and he once again lost any sense of orientation or time.  The next “time” he was “aware,” Remy was still floating in the fathomless grey expanse, but now seven disembodied faces revolved around him.  They were each the size of a house.  The features of the visages flowed so quickly that they never settled on a single form.  The lips of a man moved beneath the eyes of a snake all surrounded by feathers that a moment later morphed into long curls of purple hair crackling with white lightning.  The other six faces shifted just as quickly and into visages even more bizarre. 

~THIS IS THE CHOSEN?~ one face asked in a hissing voice.

~DANGEROUS!~ another boomed in response.

~IT MUST BE DONE!~ a third interjected. 

~THIS HAS BEEN DECIDED!~ a nightmarish face thundered.

~THIS SEED IS HEALER, FIGHTER AND MORE!  IT IS THE CHOICE!~

~THIS SEED IS KILLER, TYRANT AND MORE!  IT IS THE CHOICE!~

~THIS SEED IS LEADER, CONQUEROR AND MORE!  IT IS THE CHOICE!~

~YES!  POWER IS SHIFTING ACROSS THE INFINITE FRACTALS OF THE UNIVERSE!  WE MUST GROW THE INFLUENCE OF CHAOS AS WELL!~  The voice was initially the rasping of an old man, but it shifted to the innocent tones of a child. 

~ITS TRUE NATURE MUST BE HIDDEN~

~THEN WE MUST BLOCK ITS TRUE FOCUS UNTIL~

~YES~, another voice interrupted, ~BUT WE MUST GIVE IT PRODIGIOUS GIFTS IF IT IS TO SURVIVE~

~THE COST WILL BE GREAT~, for the first time, several voices spoke at once, as though united in concern.  

~IT CANNOT BE AVOIDED~

~IT WILL BE NEEDED~, added a voice that Remy had not yet heard. 

~SO SHALL IT BE~, all seven faces intoned together. 

The disembodied heads were spinning around Remy while they spoke about his fate.  Between their movement and the shifting of their faces, he could not be sure which spoke next, but he supposed it didn’t matter.  What did matter to him was that he did not like being discussed as if he wasn’t there.  For the first time in his afterlife, though by far not the first time in his existence, he impetuously spoke up when perhaps his silence would have been the better choice.

“Who are you!  Why did you take me from that light?  What is this place?”

Remy had wanted to speak earlier, but there had been what he could only call a “pressure” inhibiting him.  Only his anger at being ignored let him force his way past it.  The faces did not respond at first.  When one did, he thought he heard the barest hint of approval, if not respect.

~THE CHOICE IS WISE!  THE SEED IS STRONGER THAN EXPECTED!  THE BLOODLINE IS TRUE.  IT WILL BE PREPARED!~

All the faces began to vibrate, then they slammed into one another.  The seven melded together until only one remained, and Remy’s astral self started flowing toward it.  The mouth yawned wide and Remy began struggling to get free again.  It had as little effect as before.  All he could do was project his words once more. 

“What are you doing?  I won’t be a prisoner or a slave or whatever you’re doing to those people strapped to the tables.” 

The face ignored him and the mouth yawned wider. 

Remy continued to struggle ineffectually.  But, effective or not, he was still furious.  He’d spent a lifetime fighting to control his own destiny.  The idea that in death he would be robbed of his choice at this point was worse than the death he’d just suffered.  At least then he’d been on his feet and had died on his own terms.  He would not live another life controlled by others!

What came out of his mouth next was a stream of the foulest language that the planet Earth had evolved after thousands of years of war.  He let the giant faces know exactly what he thought about them, exactly what they could do with their giant mouths and exactly how long they should gargle after.  The torrent of filth coming out of his mouth was so spectacular that for a moment the collective consciousness of Chaos stopped and thought, “What the hell?  This guy really does give zero fucks!”

“Just kill me again!” Remy screamed after taking a deep breath.  “I was already dead.  I deserve to see the end of war!  I will not be a slave!  Not anymore!  Never again!”

This time, a voice did respond.  It seemingly came out of nowhere, but it was almost human.

~No.  There are no slaves here, at least none that do not choose such a path.  Those you saw are only being momentarily detained to improve their power and prepare them for what comes next.  In either case your fate diverges from theirs, though in time they may become intertwined once more.~

“What, then?” Remy shouted.  He was almost inside of the mouth, but even the idea of being eaten by some cosmic being didn’t scare him.  He was too angry.  Most of his personality had been stripped away, but what was left was the core of who he was: a desire for freedom, a need to improve the world, and fury!

“What?” he spat.  “What are you preparing me for?”

His astral self continued to drift into the mouth of the face, now swelled to the size of a mountain range.  There was no response for the seconds or centuries that passed as Remy continued into the black hole of his destiny.  Right before he was consumed, the voice spoke again, and this time there was no mistaking the pity and sorrow it held.

~Godhood.~

Then Remy entered the maw of the Lords of Chaos and his mind passed beyond thought and time.

Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to continue your adventure, you can do it with the Ebook or the Audio :)

Chapter 2 begins!

CHAPTER 2

Welcome, creature of Chaos!  You will soon enter the world of Telos!

This is an old world that is on the cusp of a new beginning.  The Cataclysm that destroyed its civilizations, plunged it into anarchy and laid low its old gods has passed from regret, to myth, to legend, and now almost beyond any memory.  Be warned; forgotten or not, the sins of the past will always haunt both the present and the future.  As is always true of Labyrinth worlds, however, danger and reward are close bedfellows. 

Wait, what? Remy thought to himself.  He’d been eaten by the giant face and now he was here, wherever here was.  All he could see was an unrelieved blackness and the words that scrolled across his vision.  Did the prompt just call him a “creature of Chaos?”  He had a vague memory of someone else calling him a god, but as he reached for the memory, it dissipated like smoke in the night.  More words blazed across his gaze. 

Ages past, the Lattice, a unique and interconnected series of worlds and realities, was consumed by the Labyrinth.  For immeasurable time the mana of the Labyrinth has flooded the Lattice, sinking ever deeper into it, until finally reaching the jewel at its center.  This jewel is the world of Telos. 

Dungeons have now appeared across the face of the planet.  Locations of magic are reawakening as the ambient mana levels of this world increase.  Like water on dry sand, the first drops of magic may be quickly absorbed, but in a short time this world shall create a magic system both akin to all Labyrinth worlds and unique unto itself.

At this pivotal time, you are one of an unknown number of creatures that have been seeded with Power.  Demons, monsters, gods and more shall vie for survival in this new world.  Each Being of Power shall have their own strengths and weaknesses. 

You are a god! 

A great number of rudimentary tribes have been brought to this new and dangerous world.  They call out for aid! 

Your first task as a Tier 0 deity is to choose a people to worship you.  As you have a Sponsor, you have been granted a short amount of time in which to prepare.  Your primary senses will now be restored.  You may customize this space to ease your transition into this new phase of being. 

And just like that, Remy could see, hear and touch again.  He took for granted that taste was back as well, but he couldn’t smell anything.  He stood in a featureless white room with curved walls.  There were no doors or furniture.  After pinching his skin and confirming that he once again physically existed, he checked the walls.  Minutes later, he came to three conclusions: 

One, it looked like he’d been reincarnated into the same body he’d had before. 

Two, he was in an empty white room. 

Three, it’d be nice to have a place to sit.

No sooner had that thought occurred to him than a short white stool appeared.  It didn’t slowly morph into existence.  One moment the room was empty, the next, it was there. 

Remy frowned at it.  It was about two feet tall and had three legs.  Just your average wooden stool.  Not exactly comfy, he noticed.  That thought triggered another change, and it became a plush recliner.  It even had a console on one arm for shiatsu.  Just like the stool, the entire thing was pure white.  He tried to change the color with his mind, and the leather turned a rich chocolate color. 

After poking it a couple times, he sat down and turned on the massage function.  A slight buzz filled the air and pure ecstasy spread through his naked body.   He let out a faint croon of pleasure.  This was amazing.

As he lay there in his birthday suit, he thought back on how crazy everything was.  He’d died and been brought back to life.  Now he was in a sterile lab environment, and he could manifest his thoughts.  A normal reaction would be to freak out about all of this, but Remy had never been normal.  There was a reason he’d gained the nickname Zero.  When most people panicked, he stayed calm.  It wasn’t that he had nerves of steel, it was just that he gave zero fucks. 

He enjoyed the massage a bit longer before standing up and turning the chair off.  Pursing his mouth, he thought about his situation.  If nothing else, it was always a good idea to gather information.  Testing out his new “power,” he summoned a mirror and examined himself. 

The most obvious thing was that he was completely naked.  He’d noticed that before, but after coming back from the dead, it just hadn’t seemed like a big priority.  The lack of temperature, either hot or cold, had made it even easier to ignore.  Looking in the mirror now though, he checked to make sure his oldest friend had made it through his reincarnation without injury.  That act made him chuckle as he remembered a talk with an old ICU nurse. 

She’d told him that after thirty years in the long-term recovery wing, she’d seen a great number of men and women wake up from comas.  With a dismissive shake of her head, she’d then told him that every time a woman woke up, the patient would immediately ask if her husband and children were okay.  A woman’s first thoughts were of the well-being of their loved ones.  Every single man who woke up though, the first thing they did was frantically reach down to grab their package and make sure it was still there.  That was usually followed by a huge sigh of relief, asking for some water, and maybe then asking about their loved ones. 

Remy had always thought that story was a bit ridiculous, but now, seeing that the monster was still home and hanging, he understood the profound relief those men had felt.  He chuckled again but the levity quickly fled.  Thinking about that old nurse had triggered another memory, this one about his favorite nephew.  Other than his sister, the brilliant boy had been one of his last living family even before the Forsaking. 

James had been a medical student with a bright future, but sadly he had also been one of the first victims of The Land Effect.  To the government, he’d been just one of millions of lost souls.  To Remy, it had been like losing a son.  James had even followed in his footsteps, pursuing a career in medicine, but all of that had been lost when the boy slipped into a coma. 

The only comforting thought was that his nephew’s condition had kept him from experiencing the monster-infested hell that Earth had become after the Forsaking.  The boy was probably dead now, but at least he’d been spared the horrors the rest of the human race had lived through.  Remy shook himself free of such dark thoughts and examined the rest of his body. 

He didn’t look any different.  He had the same dark brown skin bedecked with an unhealthy number of scars thanks to his years of military service.  His eyes were what many women had thought to be a distracting shade of hazel, something he’d taken advantage of as often as he humanly could.  He was only lacking the eyeglasses that he’d gained from years of studying in med school and residency. 

His eyes sat above a crooked nose, broken and reset one too many times, full lips, and a strong jaw.  His hair was in the simple fade style he had always sported, short cut, thick and black.  He had the same six feet of height he’d had back on Earth, and even the osteochondroma in his left knee was still there. 

Seeing that everything essential was where it should be, he thought about some clothes.  Just like with the stool, they immediately phased into existence.  Without having to move, he was suddenly wearing a perfectly snug pair of boxer briefs, some perfectly broken-in jeans and a two-hundred-wash-softened t-shirt. 

The clothes weren’t random.  They were exactly what he’d been imagining.  His favorite outfit.  The shirt had originally been black, but long ago it had faded to its current dark mist-grey.  A faded three-stripe Atari symbol could barely be made out on the chest.  It even had the same stains and small rips.  There was something comforting about being in these clothes, and another faint smile graced his face. 

Clothing and shelter were taken care of and he didn’t have any hunger or thirst, so he decided to sit back down in the recliner chair.  The shiatsu turned back on.  Oh god, he thought, shutting his eyes in bliss.  This feels like heaven. 

That thought made his eyes pop back open.  Is this heaven?  A white room where you could summon anything you thought about?  Could be worse, he realized.  Closing his eyes again, his fingers wandered over to the control console.  Using his imagination, he created a “young Betty White” option.  The sensation of the massage changed in a wonderful way.  Oh god, he thought, just how I always imagined it. 

He didn’t know how long that went on, but after a time he heard a distinctly feminine voice greet him. 

“Hello.” 

He opened his eyes, but didn’t see anyone.  A lesser man might have looked around wildly and shouted, ‘Who said that?’ but he was Zero.  Besides, he’d always prided himself on being a bit less on the nose.  He’d already been reborn in a weird white room, been given the power of transmogrification (thank you D&D vocabulary) and in the past hour had felt the wonderfully dry fingers of all four Golden Girls on his body at once.  Compared to all of that, a disembodied voice was some JV stuff.  A sexy voice wanted to talk to him?  Sure, why not?

That was why instead of freaking out he stood up, dismissed the recliner, and summoned a table and a pair of comfy high-backed chairs.  A pitcher of sweet tea and two glasses appeared as well.  There were even beads of cool condensation slowly creeping down the outside of the glass jug.  That done, he pulled out one of the chairs and asked, “Will you join me, please?” in a respectful tone.  As his granny had always told him, ‘Manners cost nothing.’

There was a pause, then a shimmer appeared in the air.  It solidified into a woman garbed in diaphanous blue silk.  It was so sheer that it hid nothing, but this was not what immediately captured Remy’s attention.  It was that her skin was the pale blue of a spring morning.  That, and she was about eight feet tall. 

Her body was thin with no curves to speak of and her arms and legs were overly long.  Despite that, she possessed an inhuman grace as she walked.  The supple giant met his gaze with her own sea-green pupils.  With a smooth wave of her hand, the chair grew to accommodate her tall frame.  She settled effortlessly into it, even that simple action looking like a dance. 

Remy helped move her chair in and sat across from her.  She looked at him and the tea inquisitively, so he poured a glass for them both.  With a delicate hand, she picked it up and brought it to her mouth.  Rather than drink though, a long white tongue extended past her lips, and she lapped some of the tea from the top of the glass.  A look of surprised delight crossed her face.  She finally raised it to her mouth and took a full drink. 

A strange sound emanated from her chest, half purr and half the trill of a bird.  “Thank you,” her voice chimed.  Her words had the faintest of echoes even though she sat right across from him.  “Few Beings of Power show respect and consideration for any creature other than themselves.  Such efforts do not go unnoticed.  You may call me Sariel.  I am an Ethereal.”

Your polite invitation and welcome has impressed Sariel and distinguished you from other “Beings of Power.”  You have gained +300 Relationship Points.  Total Relationship Points with Sariel: +300

Congratulations!  Your relationship with Sariel has improved from Neutral (0) to Pleased (+250).  “I am pleased to see you.”

Despite his decision to just “roll with it,” the appearance of an eight-foot-tall alien supermodel had definitely thrown Remy off his game.  He just stared back for a few seconds before shaking himself slightly and coming back to the moment.  He collected himself enough to say, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  He leaned forward and extended his hand. 

Sariel smiled faintly, amused at the quaintness of his human custom, but still extended her hand as well.  As he took it in his own, he marveled at the smooth coolness of her skin, like whipped cream fresh out of the fridge.  After they had both settled back into their chairs, he started to introduce himself, but she held up a hand. 

“I am-”

“You should never speak your True Name again.  Those with enough power and the proper magics could use that information to cause you great harm.  You will need to choose a new name to be called by.”  She paused a moment and took another sip of tea. 

She made the same trill-purr noise and closed her anime-large eyes in pleasure before speaking again, “You should know that I was not required to tell you to guard your True Name, but you, and this marvelous drink from your memory, have pleased me. 

You have been provided extra knowledge due to having reached Relationship Rank 1, Pleased, with Sariel.

Remy thought over what she had said.  The whole “True Name” thing sounded strange, but only when you didn’t take into account that you’d just been reborn and were talking to the opera singer from the 5th Element.  He decided to take her advice about keeping his name close to his chest.  

He also sent a silent thank you to Granny for teaching him the secret of true sweet tea.  Anyone that thought you just added sugar was failing an intelligence test as far as he was concerned.  He was also grateful that he’d taken the time to greet Sariel properly.  In any world, knowledge was power. 

He’d become familiar with the importance of “relationships” since Earth had been connected to the Labyrinth.  In his opinion, this had been one of the weirdest things that had happened: being informed of when people did or did not like you.  Reaching certain relationship levels also triggered certain events or behaviors.  It was almost like a self-reinforcing prophecy.  Having a pleased rank relationship with Sariel meant she was actually pleased to see him.

Of course, you couldn’t follow the rankings blindly.  It didn’t tell you about a person’s character.  It was just an indication of how people felt about you.  Even if you reached a “Friendship” level with someone, if that person was a no-good, untrustworthy bastard, they’d be the type of person to betray you no matter what relationship rank you reached.  That phrase, “he’d sell out his own mama” was actually true for some people, so a relationship rank did not mean you were safe from treachery.  Everyone had their own nature, after all. 

The men and women he’d led to the bunker had reached the eighth relationship rank with him, Trusted.  That was why they had followed his directions almost without question.  His mood darkened somewhat at remembering how many of the people who had trusted him had died, but the feeling quickly passed.  Those men and women were just the latest in a long line of bodies he’d left behind. 

Remy turned his attention back to his new life.  Namely, that his improved relationship with Sariel had already shown dividends.  She had shared info that she normally wouldn’t have.  Information was worth more than gold. 

Seeing as how sweet tea and a smile had earned him some points, he figured he might as well really pour it on.  After all, you can never have too much butter on bread.  At least, that was what his uncle always said. 

“Thank you very much for the information, miss,” he responded with a pleasant tone.  “I will wait a bit before deciding on a new name if that’s alright.”

She gracefully nodded her head, “Of course.  Part of my purpose is to tell you of your new world and to provide you with the opportunity to ask questions.  I make no guarantees that I can or will answer, however.  Knowing that, do you have any questions before we begin?”

Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to continue your adventure, you can do it with the Ebook or the Audio :)

Chapter 3 begins!

CHAPTER 3

Remy did indeed.  Without preamble he asked, “What is a Being of Power and why do you think I’m one?”

She nodded again, expecting the question, “Let me say first, you are no longer human.  Or perhaps, it would be more accurate to say that you are no longer only human.  You have been altered to occupy a higher State of Being.  At the moment of your death on your home planet, your spirit was captured.  After that, I do not know all that occurred, but I do know you have been implanted with a Seed of Power.  This can trigger any number of possible evolutions, but it has turned you into a god.” 

Going to put a pin in that, he thought.  Let’s stay on topic.  “What happened to my body?” Remy asked.

“Left to rot, I would assume,” Sariel said offhandedly.  This matter was obviously of no consequence insofar as she was concerned.

She might have been able to brush it off, but that simple statement made Remy’s head spin.  Part of him had still been thinking that maybe this was some sort of strange firing of synapses at the moment of his death.  That this was just a time-dilated dream. 

No. 

He’d actually died, and his body had been eaten by the cats.  He took a deep breath, then shrugged.  He’d never understood the point of worrying.  I died, but now I’m alive again, sort of.  Might as well embrace my new reality.  So he asked another question, “Who brought me here then?  Who ‘altered’ me to a ‘higher state of being’?”

“Do you not remember?” she asked carefully.

Remy furrowed his brows.  Had there been a giant face?  A giant-  Even that wisp of memory faded away.  “No,” he replied, shaking his head.  He knew that something had happened after he’d died and before he’d come here, but he couldn’t recall it now for the life of him. 

“Then you are not meant to have that knowledge,” she told him definitively, a firm look on her aquamarine face.  “Suffice it to say that you have been given another chance at life.  Most importantly, you have been provided this opportunity with your consciousness intact. 

“The souls of humans are only quasi-eternal.  If you had not ascended, your spirit would have continued on in some fashion after your death on Earth.  The specifics of ‘who’ you are, however, would have been lost.  It is rare, especially on a mana-void world such as yours, to maintain your consciousness after death.  The power that sent you here must have taken special care to preserve your personality.”

Sariel looked at him pointedly, until Remy responded, “So I should be grateful to whoever brought me here?”  Before she could answer he continued, “I have learned not to put my faith in hidden organizations.”  She started to frown, but then he added, “I have also learned to trust my instincts, however.  No matter what group is behind my resurrection or whatever it is, I am grateful for your help, Sariel.”

The Ethereal’s face softened.  She considered her words before speaking, “The unique powers and sensitivities of my race make us ideal for facilitating encounters such as this.  I will not discuss such matters in detail, but I will share that I have met countless beings from millions of worlds.  Few would be able to suffer the extreme trauma that death can inflict and still have the inner strength to remain true to who they are.  Most beg, threaten or simply become unresponsive, unable to process their new reality.”  She paused, gazing at him intently, “Seeing your strength, I can understand why you were chosen.”

Your ability to bravely face the truth of your life after death has distinguished you from the masses.  This has once again increased your relationship with Sariel.  You have gained +450 Relationship Points. 

Total Relationship Points with Sariel: +750

Congratulations!  Your relationship with Sariel has improved from Pleased (+250) to Kind (+500).  “It is my pleasure to help you!”

Remy was somewhat taken aback.  He hadn’t been trying to sway her one way or another.  It was especially strange because he knew that his emotions were being artificially suppressed.  Was this a coincidence, or could the beings that sent him here possibly have foreseen this? 

He was about to say something, but she suddenly waved her hand.  A series of glyphs appeared in the air.  They looked like a mix between Chinese characters and the digital numbers that appeared on calculators.  After a moment, she waved her hand again and they disappeared. 

“We do not have much more time,” she told him.  “From what I understand, the majority of the people of your planet believe in one omnipotent and omniscient being that created the Universe.  You call this being God.  Though you have ascended to a higher State of Being and have evolved, you are nowhere near that state of existence.  You are the lowest evolution of a godlike being, A Spirit Made Flesh.”

He nodded for her to go on.

“All gods have a nonphysical organ called a Divine Core.  It will give you great power, but will not keep you safe, especially on this new world.  Unlike Earth, Telos is not mana-void.” 

“Mana?” he asked.  “You mean magic?” 

The Ethereal heard the confusion in his voice.  She stopped speaking for a moment, searching for the right words to explain it in a way that he could understand.  “On your world you understand the concepts of magnetism and electricity, correct?” 

After he nodded, she continued, “As a loose analogy, there exists a similar relationship between mana and magic.  Magnetic fields, properly manipulated, can be used to generate electricity.  Mana is similarly a natural phenomenon.  Through various processes, it can be converted into magic.  The reason no one on your world had been able to cast spells before the Labyrinth connected to it was not because they lacked ability, but because the mana levels of your world were so low that their bodies couldn’t use magic.  Do you understand?”

Remy nodded slowly.

“The more mana a being can safely absorb, the stronger they become.  They can increase in levels, gaining attributes and other points.  They can increase in rank, something akin to what you call evolution.  They can even increase in tiers, completely strengthening their State of Being.”

Seeing his confused expression, she spoke in an assuring voice, “This will all become clear.   For now, what you need to know is that Telos has recently connected to the Labyrinth.  Which means-”

“Which means,” Remy interrupted grimly, remembering Earth, “there will be monsters.”

“And they will become stronger as time goes on and more mana flows from the Labyrinth into Telos.  If you do not grow your strength as well, you will be consumed.”

The gravity of that moment dragged out for long seconds before Remy asked, “Why did you call Earth a ‘mana void’?”

Sariel coughed delicately, “There actually isn’t a true classification for planets such as yours.  Mana void is a commonly used term.  They are also called ‘Nulls’ or,” she coughed again, “‘sad deserts.’  They all refer to areas that are so starved of mana that creatures within them have their growth and development stunted.”

“I was ‘stunted.’” Remy repeated slowly.

“Not just you,” Sariel chimed in quickly.  From her tone, you could tell she was trying to help, albeit failing miserably, “Your whole race and every living thing on your planet.  In fact, even the rocks and minerals of your planet were mana-retarded.” 

“Hmmm.  Mhm.  Mhmm.”  Remy made a few neutral noises while nodding too fast and processing her words.  Sariel had basically just said that the entire Earth was so lacking in mana that they had all grown up bowlegged and nearsighted. 

Seeing his distraught expression, Sariel tried to cheer him up again, “You should actually be quite proud.  Mana-retarded environments typically do not allow beings to advance to your level of civilization.  The low energy nearly always leads to a lack of connection to the environments such beings dwell in.  That in turn leads to what is typically viewed as a deviant and self-destructive behavior.  That trait can make the denizens of such environments turn on their own families, let alone society at large.  The few civilizations that do manage to survive and thrive in such atmospheres are classically so wantonly cruel and vicious that they are viewed as an infectious threat to other civilizations.  As such, they are typically quarantined and sterilized.”

Remy blinked, trying to process what she’d just said.

“You, however, seem very nice and respectful,” she concluded with a bright smile.  “If you are in any way representative of humans on your planet, then it seems your people beat the odds and survived without turning horribly cruel!”

Remy stared at her incredulously.  The accurate and woefully predictive description she had for human history notwithstanding, he wasn’t about to admit that he was indeed from a society that fit her description.  No matter how he felt about Earth, he certainly wasn’t about to tell a cosmic being that his former home should be “quarantined.” 

“Just as on Earth,” Sariel continued, “your new world will change quickly now that it has been connected to the Labyrinth.  Connecting always causes an influx of mana.  Monsters and beasts native to the world will rapidly absorb it.  Their levels and ranks will increase.  The connection will also cause cracks in the skin of reality, allowing monsters foreign to the world to force their way in.  Given enough time, even higher tiered beings will appear.  Your path will indeed be fraught with danger, but,” she said pointedly, raising one finger into the air, “all is not lost.”

“Unlike Earth, Telos is not a Null Planet.  Though its mana levels have been low for millennia, it never fell to the depths of Earth.  You, and the tribe you shall lead, will begin as Tier 0, Rank 0, Level 0 beings.  The same shall be true of any enemies you encounter, and there shall be an even playing field, at least at first.  I have not told you all of this to discourage you, but to encourage you.  You must solidify your position quickly and never stop pursuing your power.”

“And how do I get more power?” 

“I cannot tell you specifically, but you must never forget: a god is always tied to his followers.  You must advance not only your own power but that of your people.  It will be a balancing act, to increase both their power and your own.  For even if you master whatever lands you settle in, if you remain a Tier 0 god, any Tier 2 or 3 being could render everything you hold dear to ash with just a snap of their fingers.”

Fighting on Earth had left a deep impression on Remy.  He knew full well the hopelessness of struggling against a strong monster. 

“Would I really be that helpless against a higher tiered monster?”

“There are no absolutes,” Sariel told him with a smile.  “It’s the application of power that matters.”

“That’s something I can understand,” Remy said with a nod.  “Of course, applying power requires a certain amount of intelligence and common sense, two things that I’ve never been able to take for granted in others.  I’ve often wondered how humanity didn’t die out early.  It seems like people have at best a fifty-fifty chance to make a smart decision.”

“Forty-two,” Sariel corrected definitively.

“What?”

“Forty-two,” she repeated.  “Sapient beings only have a forty-two percent chance of making the right choice at any given moment.  That particular question has been definitively answered.”

“Bu-.  Bu-,” Remy tried to speak several times, but his mind was imploding with connections.  “Are you saying…”

“We don’t have much more time.  Heed my warning and increase your power quickly.  You have leveled on Earth, so you understand the concept.  You must not ignore your cultivation, however.  This is how you progress your tier.  Your first steps on that journey are called the Rainbow Path.  It will require a great deal of time, but it must be done.”

“How long?” he asked.

“It could take a year or more to progress to the first tier.”

“I thought I was supposed to get strong as fast as possible.  A year doesn’t sound fast.  Isn’t there a better way?”

Sariel developed a coy smile, “It is good that you asked.  I have always thought that those who do not seek the light of knowledge are doomed to die in the darkness of ignorance.”  Her voice carried the hint of ritual, “As the worthy seek knowledge, so shall it be shared.  There is indeed a faster way.  On the day you claim your Chosen, a one-time price can be paid to take the first step on the Rainbow Path.”

After she finished speaking a prompt appeared. 

You have been provided extra knowledge due to having reached Relationship Rank 2, Kind, with Sariel.

You have unlocked Secret Knowledge: A god who can inspire dedicated belief within a tenday of his arrival on Telos need only speak the words “The worthy shall know” to take the first step down the Rainbow Path.

Relationship status for the win again.  He was happy it was continuing to pay off, but he didn’t really understand it.  Asking for clarification just earned him a mysterious smile.  Changing tacks, he asked, “Are there any other shortcuts I should know about?”

She actually laughed this time, “I am positive that there are many ‘shortcuts,’ as you put it.”  Her mocking gaze made it clear she wouldn’t be offering up information that easily, however, especially not after already giving him a leg up.

Remy shrugged unashamedly.  Like his daddy said when he turned twelve, ‘Later in life you never remembered the times you looked foolish, but you always remembered the pussy you let get away.’  Put another way, shoot your shot and don’t get worked up if you got a ‘No.’

She waved her hand and the ubiquitous soft light in the room darkened.  Between them the image of a solar system appeared.  It was a yellow sun, and only one planet circled it.  Except for the strange configuration of the continents, and the off-color blue of the water, it looked a great deal like Earth.  White clouds floated lazily across the blue and green marble. 

At first Remy thought there were countless moons circling it, but then he realized that what he was seeing looked more like motes of light.  Also, while the planet was circling the sun and clouds were flowing across its surface, the motes remained in fixed points relative to the planet, like they were satellites in geosynchronous orbit. 

“What are these?” Remy asked. 

“These are connection points to the Lattice.”  Sariel waved her hand again, and Remy’s breath caught, looking at the beauty of what she had just revealed. 

A glistening, crystal-like web appeared around the solar system.  It wasn’t flat, but instead radiated out in all directions.  At each of the connections points of the web hung another solar system.  In each, there might have been one planet or many, but one or more of the spheres in each system had the same glistening motes of light that he’d seen on Telos.  Motes that he now knew were the ends of the strands that connected each world to the next. 

Remy started trying to trace the connections, but Sariel waved her hand once more.  The cosmic projection disappeared and the light in the room raised to previous levels, “You are not allowed to know the specifics of the Lattice.  You may be told, however, that the worlds of the Lattice are as varied as your dreams and nightmares.  You may be told that each will pose different challenges, that they all possess untold power.”  She looked at him meaningfully in a way he had come to know meant there was more to say about that topic.  Sariel even cocked her head and looked at him from the corner of her eye.  The message was simple: Get on with it, guy!

“Oh, right.  Um, is there anything else I should know about these challenges, or, um, the Lattice?”

Sariel rolled her large beautiful blue eyes at that weak-ass attempt to learn more, but still responded with the formulaic response, “As the worthy seek knowledge, so shall it be shared.  The solutions to problems on a specific world of the Lattice may not be found on that world.  Do not be afraid to explore.  Whoever controls the Lattice would be able to wield great and terrible power.  They might just have the ability to decide the fate of us all.”  Her words were almost apocalyptic in gravity.  The two of them shared eye contact for several intense moments.  The serious vibe quickly fled when she added, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You have been provided extra knowledge due to having reached Relationship Rank 2, Kind, with Sariel.

“The Lattice is the home of powerful beings, magics and items.  If you wish to survive and prosper as a god, you will need to enter this realm and garner power as quickly as you can.  I assure you, other gods, demons and even more exotic beings of power will be doing the same.  If you do not move quickly, you will not be able to match their power.”

Why was this sounding more and more like he was about to be in a battle royale… with gods and demons?  Remy asked the logical question, “How do I get into the Lattice?”

“That will be made clear in time,” she responded cryptically.  The Ethereal had been fairly forthcoming on other topics, so Remy was fairly sure her answer had been purposeful.  Trying to gain more information on this particular point would be a waste of time. 

Sariel was going to speak again, but the light in their nondescript room increased momentarily before shifting back to normal.  It only happened once, but it was enough to trigger the next phase of Remy’s life.  The Ethereal looked around, “The time of Choosing is almost upon us.  Our time here is coming to an end.”

The Ethereal held up one graceful blue hand like she was holding a platter.  She spoke a word of power and a ring of mystic symbols encircled her fingers.  In the blink of an eye, a black lacquered chest appeared on her upturned hand.  It looked heavy, about the size of a large suitcase, but she bore the burden with ease.  Dark grey swirls appeared and disappeared on its surface while Remy watched. 

“Each new god and being of power will be sent to Telos with nothing more than a set of clothes appropriate to their new form.  That has been decreed and decided by the cosmic forces.  Some fortunate gods, however, have been...,” she stopped, looking for the right word, “sponsored.  Sponsors provide extra information and benefits.  You have a sponsor and they have made two arrangements to help you, the first of which is the time we have spent together.”  A wry smile grew on her face. “I hope you have found it useful.”

“The second,” she continued, “is the contents of this chest.”

Remy accepted it from her.  The swirling box was slightly warm to the touch.  It also felt like it weighed over a hundred pounds.  He looked at Sariel’s deceptively frail form and realized just how much power it must contain if she had held the chest so casually with one hand.  He was obviously curious about what was inside, but there was another answer he wanted more, “Who is my sponsor?”

Sariel paused as if she was listening to something he couldn’t hear, “I am not allowed to share that information with you if you do not already have such knowledge.” 

“Why not?”

“Like every being in existence, no matter how powerful, I have laws I must abide by, and I would suffer consequences if I were to break those rules.”  She smiled wryly, “I like you, but not that much, young immortal.”

You have been denied extra knowledge due to your relationship with Sariel being of insufficient level.

Remy realized he had stumbled onto a semi-taboo subject.  For a moment, he considered trying to increase his relationship with Sariel.  The only problem was there wasn’t much time left.  The Ethereal did give him some information without any further prompting. 

“What you can know is that a great price was paid to furnish you with the contents of this chest.  Even paying for my time was a small price in comparison.”

“How great a price?” he asked.

“You cannot measure such things in terms of currency.  The best way for you to understand is that the energy sacrificed to provide these items would, at a minimum, be enough to destroy a sun.  Whatever the contents are, I suggest you pay close attention to them, but please remember that nothing material can be taken with you into Telos.  If you are found attempting to do so, the consequences will be severe.”

Remy looked at her, nonplussed.  What exactly did “severe” mean?  He probably didn’t want to find out.  It couldn’t be great if he was dealing with beings that could destroy a damn sun.  Before he could formulate a response, she stood up. 

“Part of the arrangements made by your patron were that you be provided privacy while opening the chest.  I will return prior to the Choosing.”

He stood as well, struggling a bit with the heavy weight of the chest.  Setting it on the chair, he extended a hand.  He spoke simply but with sincerity, “I don’t know a lot about what’s happening here, but I’ve been given another chance at life.  Thank you for helping to make the transition easier, Sariel.  I appreciate it.”

She smiled at him fondly.  Hesitating for just a bit, she finally asked a question.  “This new world will let you be whomever you choose to be.  You can be a savior, a killer, a thief, or an emperor.  What are you going to do in your new world?”

Remy looked at her, not sure how to respond.  His entire past life had been a struggle between wanting to save the world and needing to indulge the anger inside him.  It was why he’d done such terrible things in the name of “the greater good” and why he tried to save lives afterward.  He’d always sought a balance he’d never obtained.

Sariel saw his struggle to answer and let it go.  With a final smile, her body became insubstantial until she faded from view completely.  Forgetting her question, he found himself smiling as well. 

Lady knows how to make an exit. 

Remy turned his attention back to the chest.  Placing his hand on the lid, the random swirls of grey energy solidified into three distinct letters: “SGS.”  Remy paused, his heart beating a bit faster.  That message was one that had literally been beaten into him from an early age.  Nodding, he pushed forward, regardless of the warning he’d just received. 

Opening the chest, there were five items inside sitting on a bed of velvet fabric.  The first was a simple drawing.  It was scrawled on run-of-the-mill printing paper and drawn in simple black ink.  It looked like a starscape with three moons in the sky.  Clouds occluded part of the view.  In the center of the three moons an orange comet had been drawn.  

The viewpoint seemed to be that of someone staring up at a night sky.  Underneath was a simple word, “Jump.” 

There were two more lines of text under that.  The second said, “Yes, really!”  Then a third line that said in all capital letters, “JUMP OR DIE, BITCH!” 

Remy turned it over, but there was nothing else.  He even summoned a light and held it against the glare, looking for a secret message.  Nothing. 

Hmmm.

Didn’t really seem ‘destroy a sun’ worthy.  Just seemed weird.  Remy looked at the paper closely, turning it over in his hands, but there was nothing on the other side.  He couldn’t detect anything else about it.  Even smelling it revealed nothing.  He put the inane object to the side.

The second item was a sphere about the size of a tennis ball.  It was made of a bright red metal, the color of a cardinal.  The whole surface was covered in runes or some type of script.  The engravings glowed a soft orange.  Picking it up, a prompt appeared in his vision.

You have found a Quest Orb

Another prompt came right after.  This time, the lettering looked as if it was handwritten.

PS – Sorry about the pain.   Unavoidable side effect of smuggling this quest to you.

Pain?

Before he could do anything else, the light from the script flared and another window appeared.  Right after, an ice pick stabbed into his mind with a pain so intense that he almost blacked out.  It took several seconds for the sensation to pass, and until then he couldn’t even think about focusing on the prompt.  When he did though, he read it twice, especially the threat at the end.

WTF!

Thank you so much for reading! If you’d like to continue your adventure, you can do it with the Ebook or the Audio :)