Universe's End

1. Pillar Activities

“Incoming,” Tom said.

“Yeah, yeah, I see ‘em.” Eric flipped his buddy the bird, the Monk only shaking his head.

Vanishing in a puff of inky darkness, the Rogue suddenly appeared behind a six-armed colossus, driving what looked like an oversized needle downward, except it was the size of a longsword. Piercing the monster’s thick skin, it attempted to swat him away, but the man was already gone, vanishing through the shadows.

“Yo, Zoe?” Eric called out.

“On it,” a third voice answered, as from above, what looked like a meteor crashed down upon the monster, slamming it to one knee.

“My thanks,” Tom said as he shot forward, driving his hand forward, fingers straight like a blade. Instantly, his hand froze over, cloaked in an unnatural ice that seemed to still even time itself. Hand frozen into an icy blade, he drove it through the monster’s chest, the ice creeping across its chest, unable to resist as the woman atop him seemed to increase in mass, pinning it to the ground.

“A job well done, if I do say so myself,” the Rogue said as the monster died, dusting his hands off.

“You would say that,” the Vanguard rolled her eyes. “You jump in only when it’s safe.”

“Yeah, no shit, I’m the Rogue, not the Suicide-stabber.”

“Suicide-stabber? That’s the best you got?” Zoey snorted.

“You put me on the spot; not everything I’ve got is perfectly thought out,” Eric grumbled.

“Yeah, we can see that.”

“Screw off,” Eric continued to grumble. “Anyway, that’s what, number six today?”

“Seven, you were off scouting elsewhere when a Rat-Monger appeared,” Tom corrected.

“God, you’d think they’d get a damn life.”

“This is their life,” Tom corrected once more. “And you know that. It’s been over thirty years.”

“You know what they say, time flies when you’re having fun,” Eric answered.

“Uh-huh, fun.” Zoey rolled her eyes. “That’s what it’s been. Fun.”

It had been over thirty years since her sister and Rory had vanished, and progress on The First had essentially stalled out. The problem was that with only three of them, there was utterly zero chance of besting even the Kaisers’ generals, much less the Kaisers themselves. That meant they were relegated to a back-and-forth with waves of monsters crashing down on them.

Unfortunately for The First, it couldn’t send an army of Territory Alphas to overwhelm them, only a few at a time capable of being mobilized. While a few territory alphas together were enough to best only three Founders, they were the ones sieging now, and that meant the full might of their established strongholds could be utilized.

Thus, thirty years of nada. Oh sure, they were rolling in anomalous energy at this point. Still, without Rory to be crafting them overpowered gear, that was like having a billion dollars and nowhere to spend it.

The only thing that had really changed was their personal skills. Individually, they were each stronger than they had been decades earlier. Yet, such improvements were differences of percentages- ten, twenty at most- marginal differences, in short. What they needed was qualitative improvements. Such increases in strength typically came from gear or weapon improvements, or obtaining special skills.

Which, outside of special skills, brought them back to the initial problem: a distinct lack of Rory.

Zoey did her best to keep things functional; the skills she had picked up as a blacksmith, thanks to some hobby-level mentoring under Rory, had been useful. Still, it was otherwise a really damn good thing that essentially everything was automated with golems or self-repair inscriptions keeping things operational.

“I’m just saying that something ought to change,” Eric grumbled. “I get it; for us, it really hasn’t been that long, but damn if it’s not getting at least a little stale.”

“Well,” Zoey glanced out into the distance, sighing after a moment. “I’m sure whatever they’ve been up to, it has good reason to have taken so damn long.”

“I’m telling you, a clown with three noses is not funny.”

“I don’t know, the way you jumped was pretty funny,” Rory pointed out.

“Because you’re an asshole, that’s why,” Allison snapped.

The two were currently bickering atop a sheet of rock, floating down a river of purple sparks, like fire and electricity had gotten freaky in the sheets. It was a weird quasi-energy that existed somewhere between pure energy and the corrosive former information of their old universe.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The dying realm of the Cognition was not a friendly place. The forces at play ‘recycling’ the information of their old universe viewed the durability of top-tier tier-eights the same way a forest fire respected a piece of cardboard.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

They’d run several tests on that subject, and it was only thanks to the greater ability to heal that a tier-eight had that they weren’t each down a few fingers or toes by now.

Rory felt fairly confident this was not a place they were meant to be, but by their own doing they’d ended up in the trash heap of reality. There was a question of why Eon had let that happen, but that had been a point that Rory had been forced to accept, a pill that wasn’t his favorite to swallow.

This was something above Eon’s pay grade. It was easy to forget, but Eon was a later addition to the foundational structure of their universe. It had integrated itself as deeply as possible. That said, there were likely areas that even it lacked any ‘control’ over.

And the forces that were decaying what remained of their old universe, primarily the stored information, didn’t give a damn; they just wanted the exotic influence gone.

Probably the most annoying part of the place? There was almost nothing to do: no monsters, no trials, nada. Oh sure, you could whip something into reality just by thinking, but half the time those creations were almost like a fast-acting acid if you made the mistake of touching them.

All in all, 3/10; he’d been to better vacation spots, but at least he wasn’t getting his wallet stolen any time he turned around.

“How long do you think it’s been?” Allison asked for the millionth time.

“I keep telling you, I don’t know,” Rory shrugged. “This place seems removed from the standard flow of time; it’s essentially a pocket reality almost entirely unmoored from our reality.”

“You think,” Allison corrected.

“Yes, it’s all conjecture; what else do you want me to say?” Rory grumbled. “Could have been no time at all, could have been a trillion years.”

“I’d rather it not be a trillion years,” Allison sighed.

“Same, but damn, my investment portfolio will look crazy with that much compound interest.”

Allison stared at him flatly, not in the mood to humor him after his most recent prank of conjuring a triple-nosed clown to jump scare her when she’d turned around.

“Right, got it,” Rory sighed.

The biggest issue the pair had was simply getting out. As of now, they’d tried everything they could think of, with nothing to show for it.

Rory had a theory, always theories, but hadn’t seen an opportunity to test it out.

As for his theory, it was simple enough. The people who appeared in Ehkorrus in the aftermath of a wave were still coming from somewhere. In fact, they were coming in ever-increasing numbers as the universe ‘settled’ and became less of a Wild West that only the likes of Founder-level talents and personalities could handle. What that meant was that all those people weren’t just being ‘conjured’ into existence, meaning they were likely being pulled out from the ‘data’ stored within the Cognition, the same method that Rory had once been pulled free.

Well, almost the same; some details were different, but the core reasoning stayed the same.

So, Rory’s theory was simple enough. Locate one of the ‘transfer events’ and join in.

Easy as pie.

The problem, of course, was locating a transfer event and figuring out whether joining was even possible.

Easy as pie. A cow pie, sure, but a pie, nonetheless.

“Question,” Allison suddenly spoke up, looking curious. “If we do manage to ‘pass through’ one of these transfer events, will we be reset?”

“Doubtful,” Rory answered. “The reset has to do with the fact that passing information through the ‘membrane’ or whatever of this place is excessively costly when coupled with converting a foreign exotic matter body into one that actually can exist in our reality. We’ve already undergone that remaking, twice in my case, so we should be exempt.”

“Should be,” Allison pointed out.

“It’s take that chance or remain here until the heat death of existence. And to be honest, I’m doubtful such a thing is even possible in our current reality.”

Allison frowned, but there was no arguing about that point. Remaining here forever was far from Allison’s top ten list of things to do.

“If you’re worried about the others-”

“I’m not.” Allison waved the concern off. “Eric, Tom, and especially Zoe, can handle themselves. Worst-case scenario, they’d hole up in a defensive position within one of our outpost fortresses. If The First could throw waves of endless Territory Alphas at them, it would have done so already. It’s still bound to the E.O.N. enforced rules placed upon it.”

“So, if not them-”

“The people of Aelia,” Allison answered. “We’ve got capable people remaining behind, sure, but without having a sense of how much time has passed here, I’m worried.”

“See, this is how I know you’re the more responsible one between us,” Rory chuckled. “Because my people are probably better off without me sticking my nose into their business.”

“Are you sure about that?” Allison countered. “Because it’s not your skill as a politician they probably rely on.”

“I have no skill as a politician,” Rory said flatly.

“Exactly my point,” Allison continued. “It’s what you represent and your power that matters.”

“I’m sure everything is fine. What’s the worst that could have happened?” Rory asked.

Allison stared at him.

“Right, right, that’s basically an event flag or foreshadowing,” Rory sighed.

“Over a hundred years and you still frame everything through the lens of a cinephile.”

“You can’t change perfection,” Rory said as he stuck out his tongue.

Looking as if she were weighing two difficult choices, Allison sighed at last, grabbed Rory by the collar, and yanked him in, giving him a quick but intense kiss before shoving him back a step.

“You’re an idiot,” Allison sighed.

“And that’s why you love me,” Rory said, batting his eyelashes at the woman.

“Absolutely no one said the L word here,” Allison said in haste.

“Uh-huh. At this point I think we’ve been together long enough to-”

“Been together? We’re not even a thing,” Allison said, eyes darting around wildly.

“Are… wait, have you ever had a boyfriend before?”

“I have,” Allison said, eyes still shifting. “Not a serious one, sure, but I mean-”

“Oh my god, that makes so much more sense now,” Rory said, laughing.

“It’s not that funny.”

“It’s pretty funny.”

“It definitely is not.”

“Uh huh, sure, princess,” Rory said, still snickering.

“Before I dunk you in the ‘existence-b-gone’ river, I’d advise you to quit while you’re ahead.”

Rory made a point of zipping his mouth, a literal zipper appearing as he did.

Did the conjured zipper begin literally corroding his flesh? Yes. Was it worth it for the comedic effect? Also, yes.

As much as Rory enjoyed playing the fool, his demeanor suddenly shifted as he sensed something, more attuned to the Cognition given his general connection he had toward the realm, given the fully realized version of his domain was essentially meant to mimic the realm.

“What is it?” Allison asked after a moment.

“I felt something.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Allison said. “Felt what?”

Rory frowned, thinking about how to answer that for several seconds.

“I think… I think it was someone I know?”