Collide Gamer

Cleaning up the aftermath took three days.

Nahua managed to address her people, her voice still flat and lifeless. She explained the situation and left the rest of the cleanup to John. After that, she retreated to a singular room. John only made sure she remained there and that she had company when she wanted it. She never wanted it.

Of the more than 200’000 people that had lived in the inner realm, 70% had died during or directly after the fight and half of those that had survived it succumbed to the injuries caused by their disease-devoured limbs the days after. They administered the best medical help they could, but there was simply not enough to go around. Even the Apothecaries that were flown in in a hurry could not do much.

More would have made it had it not been for the universal despair that befell the people. The revelation that they had been following the satanic figure of their religion all this time was met with three reactions. Most common was mass depression, second most common was hysteric rage, and exceedingly rare was reasoned understanding.

Another fifth of the survivors died due to ritualistic suicide, sacrificial battles that went through before anyone could catch them, or simply the refusal to eat or drink. The situation finally relaxed after three days. By then, the population had shrunk to little more than 24’000. A sizable group in the Abyss, but nothing compared to before.

Of those 24’000, a quarter offered their services to the Grim Reaper. The god of the fear of death told them he was considering it, but he wanted them to thoroughly think about it. The remaining 18’000 were, simply, leaves in the wind. Word on the street was that they were waiting for word by Nahua, the sole authority figure they had remaining.

There were a number of other losses as well.

The faction that had suffered the least was doubtlessly that of the Grim Reaper. Once the White Wanderer had returned, so had the immortality he blessed his followers with. While many in the foot soldier ranks had met their final end, the Horsemen and other elites had survived.

The Illuminati had suffered moderately. Many of the rank and file had permanent injuries in the form of lost limbs, including Norahnon who had to replace one of his arms with a mechanical one. He was not overly sad about that fact. The mech and most of Malady’s body had been lost, which was a financial hit that could not be understated. In terms of lives, they had gotten away fairly well, less than ten deaths befalling their expedition.

The Azure Tribe had suffered several losses among the support troops. Isolated in the rain area of the Eternal Sanctum, the men and women had wasted away alive. Karia had attempted to get them out, but had lacked the ability to move around that Lee provided. Additionally, Singed and Liakan’s bodies were wrecks. Despite that, they stayed and helped with the aftermath.

As for Fusion, their permanent losses were quite limited. The diminishment on his debuff meant that John had just enough mana to put his Artificial Spirits back at 50%, allowing them to come back online. He had to often put them back offline so he had the mana to summon Undine. Her healing was more necessary in these days. When he could not summon her, at least she was not deadly afraid of remaining in her home plane.

Besides the loss of Fianna’s limbs, they also suffered the loss of the plane. When the group had been pulled into the Eternal Sanctum, the plane had apparently been moved in as well – likely as a consequence of the Mobile Barrier generator on board. Where it was in the Eternal Sanctum, no one could say. They didn’t have the luxury to explore either. The god-lock and Lee’s power kept the inner realm open, but that was all and it was far from permanent.

On the positive side of things, Macuil was dead. The importance of this could not be understated. Catching the arrogant god in a direct confrontation had saved millions of lives in the long run. John truly believed in that number, considering how much damage the Digestive Plague would have done before any coalition could have come together to take care of the god. Had he been any smarter or less entitled, he could have just hid and changed world history through his disease.

With the death of Macuil, John also had been granted more than a few boons.

And those rewards were on top of the Experience Points he got from being a large part of the god’s death.

Even if the Grim Reaper had been part of it, killing an entity above level 1700 netted him a substantial amount of levels (11 of them). It helped that Nahua was his familiar.

Then there was the new weapon, of course.

That singular enchantment was what had made the creation of the weapon worth it. Without it, they could not have won. Nahua, War, even the entirety of the crafting crew, all of them together would not have been able to outpace Macuil’s regeneration had it not been for the severing of the plague rivers. Likely, it also was the reason why the Grim Reaper managed to make it out of the god’s stomach, although that could not be said with certainty.

A stronger version of the Eldritch Plight on Momo’s new staff and incredibly powerful in Nahua’s hands.

Just another avenue for her to debuff enemies.

Dull and incredibly powerful.

An emergency save that was always good to have.

Simply a good synergy with her build.

A new entry into the series of Attributes that gave a permanent benefit on kill. In this case, it immediately paid out with something as horrid as it was useful.

The plague was incredibly powerful on multiple levels. It was highly contagious, had a flat effect, and targeted all Stats except Charisma and Libido. The disease was always going to impact some weak point in a person’s Stats and that was before the other upsides. The issue with it, of course, was a psychological one. John could not see Nahua using this if she could help it. The source of this content ɪs novel·fire.net

‘I have to get her to do anything,’ John thought on the morning of the fourth day.

A knock on the door distracted him from that thought. He was staying in the same palace Huitzilopochtli had initially assigned him, with the difference that he had installed some barriers in the meantime.

“Come in,” Ehtra allowed whoever was knocking. The grey angel was back to her duty as secretary.

In walked Liakan. The daughter of Tiamat was nearly entirely made out of azure sand at the moment. Observing her, John had made the theory that the sand was self-replenishing, while the metals were not. Whether that was true just for her, he could not say. Arcane elementals were still a mystery.

“I take it you have decided to leave?” John asked.

“Indeed,” Liakan confirmed.

“The invitation remains open.” The Gamer looked up from the computer screen to give the demigoddess his most sincere gaze. “I understand that the failure in this expedition will diminish your standing. Maybe it is best to cut ties?”

“Maybe it would be best, but I cannot do it. My tribe is my tribe and I owe them my loyalty. I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” A single raised finger of the slender, coral-horned figure pointed at the laptop. “As have you, I reckon?”

“That’s classified.” John added a confirming chuckle to those words. “Fusion is remarkably stable at the bottom, but the agitators grow more numerous the longer I stay away. Doesn’t help that the goddesses are now here… I don’t even have the mana to keep the Ambassador Double active.” He sighed and leaned back. “I trust you won’t tell them?”

“I owe them loyalty and you a debt that I can never repay. Without Nia, I would suffer eternally the cacophony of the hivemind. For that, your weakness is safe with me… and for all the disdain I retain for the pariah, I will attempt to speak for segregation rather than elimination.”

John nodded, that was a huge step in the right direction. “It won’t make it easier to remain close with Arkan.”

“Let that be my worry,” Liakan told him and then turned around. “If this is farewell, John Newman, let it be known that it was an honour. Ehtra… thank you.”

“I did nothing,” the First of Hatred answered, tapping away at the laptop.

Liakan laughed quietly to herself. “You have my thanks anyway,” she assured, then left the chamber. Once out the door, she briefly looked to the right, bowed her head, then kept on walking.

The Grim Reaper stepped into the doorframe. “May I enter?”

“I wasn’t aware I was dealing with a vampire,” John joked.

“Common courtesy.” As always, the Grim Reaper’s voice was like a breeze brushing over the graveyard. Today, he sounded like John was standing over the tombstone of a loved one that had passed away peacefully in their sleep. Still a reminder of mortality, still unpleasant, but also warm and assuring.

“Come in then.” John waved the Grim Reaper in.

At the same time, Lorelei entered from a door behind him, carrying with her two teacups. Before John knew it, the Grim Reaper had placed an ancient teapot on the table, both of the cups now full. “Drink.”

Was it an order or an urging? John had no idea, but he sipped from the tea all the same. “I did miss peppermint… a bit hot for tea though.”

“Ah.” The Grim Reaper scratched the side of his head, covered completely by his hood. “Heat. I spent too much time in the north to remember that factor.” Shaking his head, he changed topics, “I consider the lecture given.”

John sighed. “Whether I have learned the lesson is a different matter.”

“Your acknowledgement of such is in and of itself an assurance.” The Grim Reaper tapped on the table once, creating an outline of North America on the map. A dividing line separated much of the north from the rest. “Respect these boundaries.”

“Are you laying claim to the territory?” John asked. “We would have to verify that with Krieg.”

The Grim Reaper let out a deep and terrible sigh. “A legalist to the bone. Invade the land if you wish. Ask Krieg to apply the laws of war he wrote. Wonder if I will respect them. Imagine what I could do if I did not.”

“The law is like a spider’s web, the fly gets caught and the wasp goes free,” John groaned.

“If that is your interpretation of my words, so be it.” The Grim Reaper stepped back from the table. “I do not intend to appear in your life again, John Newman. I prefer my position at the sideline of history. Do not drag me into it.”

“What about the Aztecs that wished to go with you?” John asked.

“I will come for them, when it is their time.” With those foreboding words, the god of the fear of death walked towards the door.

Lorelei’s voice made him stop for a second. “If you wish to invite me for tea again, do not hesitate to contact me.”

The Grim Reaper did not answer, only waved as he resumed walking away.

“It’s in and out right now!” Ehtra complained, when Norahnon came in next. “At least make an appointment.”

“Appointments won’t be necessary for something that takes 30 seconds or less. We are leaving!”

“The financial aid you suggested in resettling the Aztec people?”

“Will be given, I assure you. I have ways to strongarm Celeste and the Rat.”

“Then I wish you a safe trip home,” John said and waved off.

“32 seconds,” Ehtra hissed at the scientist as he stepped back out.

“Are we leaving as well?” Lorelei asked John.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” the Gamer answered. “I can force the resettlement of the Aztec people into the military zone where the Death Zone was formerly located. That part is clear of Lorylim these days… At least I hope so. Putting them anywhere else will lead to too much civil strife.”

Ehtra blew air out of her nose. “We can’t exactly move them without Nahua.”

“No… we can’t,” John sighed and got up.

It was a short walk to the front of the mansion. Nahua had been holed up in the throne room. There was no greater reason for that choice than the fact that he hoped she would find the presence of the axolotl in there comforting. It was the best he could think of.

Momo sat by the entrance, trying to read a book. She was failing, her gaze worriedly fixed on the closed door until John stepped closer. “You’re going to barge in?” she asked, neutrally.

“I don’t know what else to do at this point,” John told her and pushed down the handle.

“Mreow?” he was greeted by Velka first. The Magryph was on the floor, playing with all the shinies that she had received as reward for her contributions during this expedition. Leaving her the unsung heroine when she had not only found the way to Nahua but also Remus’ workshop felt all kinds of wrong. All the scratches would be given, once they had the time.

John walked up to Nahua. The axolotl woman sat on the glass pane on the floor, arms and legs pulled in, gazing down at the pool below her. Her pointy ears and frilly gills twitched in response to his approach. “Is my time of wallowing over?”

“At the very least, you can’t continue here,” John told her. “Your people need you. The Sanctum won’t stay open forever. I highly doubt that it will follow the usual rules and wait until everyone has left before it closes.”

“My people… do I have any people?” Nahua muttered. “I blinded myself to the extremes that had developed, but they are all too clear in hindsight. They speak differently, dress differently, behave more violently… none of them know me. I’m just a child of a god they worship… I’m not even the child of the god they think I am.”

“Nahua…” John tried to softly reprimand her.

“Do you know what he tried to say? In his final moments?” the axolotl woman asked. John stayed quiet. “You’re an excellent liar… when it benefits you.” She raised her head and turned it his way. Her face was beautiful and unmarred, but her eyes reflected a sadness that she no longer had tears for. “What did he say?”

“Do you really want to know?” John asked.

“…No,” Nahua admitted. “But you think it would be best if I knew, don’t you?”

“I think even the worst answer is better than you wondering.”

“What was it then?”

“He said: ‘I will always live through you’.”

“Soulless, bloodless creature of the hells,” Nahua muttered. It wasn’t clear to John whether she meant him or Macuil. Probably both. “…What do I do with that… what do I do now…?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“What if I want you to tell me?”

“Then I will give you a suggestion.”

“Tell me then.”

“Follow me.” The two definitive words made the demigoddess’ eyes narrow. There was a spark of her defiance inside them, not quite large enough to ignite her old flame. “You can’t stay here. I don’t want you to die. I like you, Nahua-xoco-atl-xolotl.” He extended his hand. “If you need to wallow and cry, I understand. If you want to forge your own destiny, I will support you. Until you learn how to walk again, follow me. The decision to stay or part will always be yours.”

Nahua shook her head and took his hand. “You had me at my full name.”