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The Gamer Chapter 1753 – Vs Macuil 2 – The Sounds of the Organ
🕑 Added 2024-09-19 06:35:50 +0000 UTC
John first heard it while they ascended the steps.
It was an unmistakable sound, one that he had scarcely heard live before. The few times he had, he could count on his fingers. All of them had been during his youth, when his mother had decided to try and get him in touch with traditional spirituality. John had never liked churches, but he certainly had a lot of love for the soundtracks this instrument was often used in.
“Is that an organ?” Rave asked.
“Sure sounds that way,” the Gamer agreed. “Are you doing fine by the way?”
The question was for Moira. The redhead had been using her powers non-stop and at a high intensity. That he questioned her made her blush more than the drawbacks of her blessing. “My willpower has been tempered in this fire, I will not succumb in the heat of battle!”
The aggression in her tone made John give her a dissuading smile. “I just wanted to make sure.” His eyes moved on before she could take further offense by his lingering. Besides, he had their whole group to scan. ‘We got out pretty well from that last clash,’ he thought. His own mana reserves were rapidly recovering and no one had gotten injured to a worrisome degree. The problem was what laid beyond the injury.
Norahnon was still suffering from the disease, and if the constant silver flashes on John’s skin were anything to go by, Macuil had his temple pumped full of the stuff. It was only a matter of time until it managed to worm its way into another one of the humans.
‘I wish we could have gotten the people out,’ John thought.
Lee had explained that the inner realm lay underneath the intersection of the other parts of the Eternal Sanctum. Macuil was doing his best to prevent any of this from reaching down there, which included keeping it all in a sphere that remained isolated. Likely, the Necropolis couldn’t even be seen down there. An entire civilization existed there and none of them knew that a battle for their fate was happening right now all around them.
A scary reminder about the limitations of awareness.
The organ sounds grew louder. They stepped through the gateway of the temple. Particle Skin flashed five times as often, sparking like a Geiger counter crackled after turning a corner in Chernobyl.
The walls oozed Purple. Creatures formed from the gunk, featherless vultures that beat their thin wings in a futile attempt to fly. Liquid beaks parted, attempting to bite or even devour the advancing party. Such attempts were always dealt with swiftly. A flash of light, a swinging hammer, a piercing spear, a slashing sword, whatever cheap way they had to execute the vile spawns they employed.
John raised his hand to get everyone to stop. He focused on the sound of the organ, then clicked his tongue. “He’s still playing with us,” the Gamer hissed. “Jane?”
The Gamer’s girlfriend turned her cat ears one way, then the other. What were subtle changes in the direction of the soundwaves to him were quite apparent to her. The temple walls were going through constant restructuring. A typical strategy by itself, but the fact that he was still leading them with the sounds of the organ made it all a mockery. People on their level could follow the sound and slowly manoeuvre closer.
Macuil did not want them to get lost, he just wanted them to work for it.
Taking the lead, Rave blew another plague vulture to bits. “Keep up!” she challenged everyone, then sprinted ahead.
‘Well, for me it’s a sprint,’ John thought and went after her as fast as he could go. For once, that only put him at the second slowest. With Purgatory's Physical Stat buff fully stacked, he had enough Agility to move quicker than Norahnon did in his massive mech suit.
The constant melody of the organ was suddenly joined by a chorus. It was an epic and well-coordinated song, an overblown ode to vanity. To that song, the group finally poured back into the centre of the temple.
The blood pool had gone through a transformation in their absence. The crimson liquid was evaporating at a steady rate, putting a heavy scent of iron in the air and a red hue over everything. Small bays along the left and right of the pool held the three dozen people that provided the voices for the chorus. The massive ornate wall at the far end had parted, revealing an organ sized for the ego of the god that played it.
The body of the god that played the organ had a singular pair of wings. Four-winged was his presence seated on the throne. It was that body that opened up its arms welcomingly and that body that addressed them. “I love the organ!” he announced. “About the only fantastic thing you outsiders brought with you. Your music ever translated my sense of grandeur better – says a lot about your civilization, doesn’t it?”
John did not see it in his interest to have a conversation in this situation. “Our target is the body in the back,” he declared. Putting the avatar that he was using to digest the Grim Reaper into the backrow was the obvious tactical move.
“Oh, come now, why so aggressive?” Macuil asked. Little motions of his fingers created geysers from the pool of blood. Walls of stone, corpses, and obsidian weapons all gushed up from the sanguine waves, blocking the impacts of various attacks.
Sylph, Siena, Beatrice, Metra and Ehtra used the crumbling barriers as footholds as they moved across. One after another, they descended on Macuil and were one after another swept aside by casual gestures of his hand.
“Really, I should be the one that is angry!” Macuil spoke, the organ’s song growing more annoyed. One of the choral singers at the side failed to pick up the rhythm in time. Glaring to the side, the god of gluttony devoured the man whole with a casual clenching gesture of his left hand. “You killed my favourite storage unit, my only good help, and now you make me kill the little mediocre help I still have!”
Mental Stats increased by Momo’s butterflies, John, Salamander, Rave and Malady all launched ranged attacks at the same time. The Arc Lance shattered against the back of Macuil’s hand, the meteor was gulped up by a rising wave of red, light and lightning slammed into the body of another choral singer, thrown into the path of the attack by a plague vulture.
“I am just such a generous god,” spoke the psychopath. “If you throw me some of those delicious birds, I might just forgive you. A thousand a month, perhaps? A low price to pay, you must agree! Of course, I’ll be taking some parts of you to nibble on first. You’re all too annoying not to cut you down to size. An arm each, perhaps?”
‘Not yet,’ John gestured to Malady. His elemental senses warned him about the buildup of electricity in her body. He could not have her go full throttle yet, not when Macuil was still playing with his food. They needed to coax the depth of his power out of him. Using their strongest cooldowns before the final phase was not going to get them anything.
“Stop – ignoring – me!” Macuil demanded.
The bratty declaration had more strength than John wanted to give it. In a moment of horrid sounds, the choral singers screamed out in unison. Flesh was consumed by accepted plague in an instant, digging its way out of the stomachs of the followers of gluttony. The humans were replaced by a facsimile of the humanoid ant-vulture hybrids that the Gamer was already familiar with.
34 of the Gluttony Emissaries soared across the pool, level 400 at the lowest. ‘This is going to be a problem,’ the Gamer was just thinking when fully 20 of the freakishly born creatures dried up inside out and collapsed into the ichor. Necrotic energies rose from the gaps in the carapace.
“Urgh.” Macuil smacked his stomach. “Can you settle down already? Hey, have you ever eaten something that is so annoying?” Clashes ensued, combatants of John’s side catching the remaining swarm of Gluttony Emissaries.
“DOUBLE-PLUS-ULTRA-GUNDAMN-CANNOOOOOOOOON!” Norahnon roared over the loudspeakers. The conjoined hands of his mech parted into a double-barrelled energy blaster, spitting out white flames before unleashing the proper payload. The air vibrated with excess mana and the sound of expired mana storage units being expelled from the back of the suit.
“Oh?” Macuil grinned and raised a singular hand. The pool around him rose and crystalized into a shield.
The energy beam fractured where it slammed into the shield. White-pink arcane fragments arched off to the side, searing deep trenches into the stone. Secondary shields rose up behind the throne, protecting the organ from taking any damage. Even now, the god of gluttony was swaying to the melody of his own making.
“Think your suit can handle something experimental?” John wanted to know.
“WHY NOT?!” Norahnon answered immediately. That the Abyss was full of crazy people was a fact manifest in the scientist’s giddy tone. “OH YEAH!” he declared, when John pulled an Arcane Star out of his inventory. It had been meant for AM. Strange times called for strange measures.
The exhaust vents that were discharging used up mana storage opened up completely. John was no Abyssal engineer, but he had watched his women work on these things often enough to identify the base building block of arcano-tech. ‘Here goes nothing,’ he thought and rammed the Arcane Star into a slot that was just a bit too large for it.
566’315 Maybel were contained in that white sphere. 566’315 MP that surged into the system. The socket immediately began to melt around the incompatible energy source. The throughput was simply more than the system was designed to handle. It could not last.
It did, however, function.
The energy beam doubled in girth. The red light of the room was tinged pale. Light from the attack became so domineering that shadows were eliminated from the room altogether. Everything became flat and two-dimensional, the colours washed out by the overbearing light.
Internal mechanisms burst audibly underneath the plates. Emergency systems kicked in, sirens announcing the overheating that John could already feel all around him. ‘Undine!’ the Gamer ordered. The hissing of steam closely followed, cold water hitting the mech. Whatever more juice they could milk out of that attack would be worth it.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Macuil laughed, aggressively clapping all the while. “YOU PEOPLE ARE SPICY! I LOVE IT!” The shield of crystallized ichor remained up. Fractures of the energy beam bounced to the side, catching one of the Gluttony Emissaries and burning half of its body to crisp instantly. What was left of it, Momo eliminated with a swing of her Witch Blade.
‘Your first melee kill ever,’ John complimented her.
‘Is this really the time for banter?’
‘You want us to be dreadfully nervous instead?’
To that Momo had no response. ‘I see the opening,’ she stated a moment later, relaying a plan of action. ‘The window of opportunity is tiny, but…’
‘We’re doing it,’ John told her, already typing into the Harem Comms so everyone got into position.
“A solemn reign for the few that rise up high…” Rave landed next to him and began her chant.
Macuil was an arrogant, incredibly powerful god. He was, in fact, so arrogant and powerful that he could afford just grinning at Rave while she went through her Babel Phrase. “Give me your best shot, snack.”
“…and we all fight. Let our worlds collide!”
Rave zapped forwards, her body turning into light for a brief second. She brought her claws down on Macuil on his throne. The god of gluttony spread his wings, exerting yet more control over the vestiges of Huitzilopochtli’s pool. Claws turned slicing light slammed into another blood shield.
“That's all you got?” Macuil mocked, then yawned when a barrage of elemental and arcane attacks from the rest of the party arched towards him from all sides. The attacks cut through the remaining Gluttony Emissaries, before curving towards the exposed left of the god. It was not exposed for long enough, another shield coming online in the nick of time.
“THE HARDWARE IS ABOUT TO SUCCUMB!” Norahnon warned.
“It’s fine,” John answered. “We already got through.”
Macuil’s cocky grin turned surprised and he turned his head. Under the cover of Nia’s anti-magical presence, Metra had moved to the back of the arena. Now, the ancient weapon gripped Rex Magnar with both hands and activated the Extreme Plasma Burst. Screaming triumphantly, the halberd swung in a wide arc towards the exposed back of the body playing the organ.
In a flash of motion and energy, Rave, the elementals, and Norahnon were all blasted backwards. Four-winged, the god of gluttony had moved from his throne between the First of Wrath and his true body. A shield of stone, flower, water and scale was erected before him in a hurry, but the attack was too close for any of that to work.
The halberd slammed into the god of gluttony, carving him open from cheekbone to the hip. Lightning and fire from the plasma burst seared the vomit-flesh under the false skin. Voiceless, Macuil grabbed Metra’s face, spun around his own axis, then flung her across the room.
Chest wound steaming, the god stood before himself, head hanging, heavily breathing. The organ in the distance remained a controlled melody – then the distorted blaring of two hands slamming on the keys interrupted it all. “Bloodless curs!” he cursed, tried to regain control over himself, then failed with another inane mistreatment of the organ keys. “Whose perfect body do you believe you are striking?!” Another attempt at playing an orderly melody began horridly, only to slowly transform into a functioning, angry song. “Fine… FINE!”
Macuil took a half step back. Grotesquely, the spinal columns of the two bodies merged. Attacks flung across the room. John had no qualms about exploiting any weaknesses transformations may have caused in an enemy like this. None such weaknesses appeared to exist.
The organ grew louder, faster. The feet of the god turned liquid, connecting with the pool below. Purple spread through the crimson pond, soon turning all of it the colour of the Digestive Plague. “I really, really have been just so patient with you – but no one ever appreciates a kind gesture!” Macuil gripped the air and tore it apart.
The ceiling of the room tore open. The entirety of the temple above them was shredded like a wet paper screen, placing them all in a different place in the Eternal Sanctum altogether. Wide-eyed, John stared at the titanic corpse that had been described to him. The pool of rancid purple to their feet rose higher, spilled over the edges, and joined the lake of digestion around the body of Atlas. A lake that all of a sudden went into motion.
One final note on the organ announced the end of the instrument. An unfathomable amount of the Purple all flowed towards the god of gluttony. A storage of his own power ripened for generations, forming a gargantuan cocoon around him. It reminded John all too much of the plague peaches that Nahua ate, just the size of an apartment block.
The skin of the fruit peeled back, flooding the colossal underground chamber with potent disease.
John’s entire skin was silver. Rave and Moira were coughing. Malady and Hikari were protected in time by Undine forming a bubble around them. Amidst the dense mist, Macuil rose anew, fruit flesh turned deity without coherency. “Cower before my true form, offer yourself to the god of gluttony!”
A serpent he was, if John felt charitable, a gargantuan worm, if he was not. The elongated body of the god of gluttony had much resemblance to Xipe-Totec’s form before, but where the Flayer Lord had embodied undead and stolen might, Macuil was filled to the brim with robbed vitality. The many arms of the worm-naga stretched. Ten pairs of wings were spaced out evenly over the upper half of a glistening, scaleless body. A spinal comb made of red stakes and obsidian fangs covered him. Orifices all over his disgusting hide scattered noxious dust and rotten rain. Panther-headed eels served as an extension of his skin, squirming all over his sides.
And for all of that horrid shape, Macuil’s human body still existed, seated on a throne of plague and melded organs located in the empty, open skull of the creature.
‘Now we are in phase 3,’ John thought. ‘Everything is going according to plan… not sure if we have enough resources to see it through though.’
“Oh, and before I forget – courtesy of the parts of old Grim that I have already digested.” All of Macuil’s left hands rose. Ready to snap, the fingers pointed at the corpse of the titan that held up the world. “Arise,” the god of gluttony spoke and snapped his fingers.
And the world shivered.
