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Chapter 65: Who is John Moore?
🕑 Added 2023-01-27 20:53:43 +0000 UTCI was currently sitting on the edge of the tomb of giants that overlooked the ash lake while contemplating. I had absorbed all of the Lordsouls now. Granted I could barely access their abilities due to the imbalance but I made it.
I did it.
The hollow from the Asylum had made it. All that remained was Gwyn and he was weaker than even Ornstein with his split form. Hell, I probably have half of his soul inside me thanks to absorbing all of his lord shards. Dispatching him would be less than a childs play.
So, this was it?
Visions passed through my mind. Thousands of deaths, far more than I bothered even counting. Agony incomprehensible to the human mind. A tool forged to fuel the flame, tempered by misery.
I am an existence now that my previous self could never believe. A being so incredibly powerful yet so weak. A body only a dozen or so times stronger than a peak human yet a soul powerful enough to sink streets in flame easily.
A mind that changes by the second, molding itself to fit the situation with no ego left of its own. Fractured and rebuilt so many times the original doesn't even remain anymore.
I can't even believe it. It doesn't even seem real anymore. That just a few years before I was a college student and a former model whose only worry was his next exam.
I wonder if he was brought in front of me that he could believe it?
If John Moore was put in front of me would he ever be able to believe that he could turn into this? A Demi-Godlike entity made of fractured identities and memories.
One of my gloveless hands rose in front of my face. Scarred and calloused, sometimes it was, and sometimes it wasn't. My body subconsciously takes the shape of what I feel like.
If I felt like a best of cruelty and violence my hands would transform into claws and my teeth would transform into fangs. If I felt like the boisterous hero I liked pretending to be, my body would get bulkier and more heroic.
I felt my children float around me, trying to comfort me.
Heh, how strange. I feel a sense of intimacy and superiority as well as authority and responsibility over humanity and undead. My instincts told me that I was their lord and they were my subjects. Probably because of my darksoul, the root of all humanity and the thing that rules over them all.
My hand transformed into a void-like claw with white outlines.
How strange is it that the least humanlike one rules over them?
I had ventured far along these lands, met many people. I am called many, many things. Some saw me as the hero, the chosen undead who would relight the flame. Some saw me as the salvation of humanity. Some saw me as a monster.
Which one of them is right?
A fellow undead sharing the same fate.
A friend.
A madman challenging the impossible.
A foolish apprentice.
A beast in crimson.
A reaper.
A blade that would burn the world down.
The lord of darkness.
I don't even know who I am anymore. But I could recall a vague and basically impossible promise John Moore made to himself.
That he wouldn't fear anymore, that he would work hard and not take the easy path. That he would suffer pain unimaginable to ordinary man, nearly lose his mind and himself many times over. For what?
To become a man worthy enough to be called the chosen undead.
"Hahaha..."
"Are you happy now?"
An image appeared in front of me, a young man with messy medium-length hair and alive purple eyes. No doubt what he would've looked like if he wasn't hollowed in the asylum. Tears began to appear out of the corner of my eyes, born from indignation. Directed at the unmoving figure in front of me.
"Are you happy now!?"
My rage didn't even activate armageddons blade or any other of my skills. Nothing. It was just pathetic.
"Is this what you wanted me to be!?"
Undignified. A sight more miserable than any I had ever seen in my life. Tears started running down my cheeks.
"Are you satisfied now!? You have become the chosen undead! You have reached the end of this world! Just like you promised yourself, remember!?"
My voice started cracking, words turning into little more than sobs at this point. Nothing more than the lamentations of a broken man.
".. .. .... ...Just what do you want from me... ? . . . ."
Reduced to nothing more than the miserable and pitiable mess I was, I collapsed from exhaustion.
...
A nightmare? No this wasn't as simple as that. There was no Asylum demon nor Ornstein to be seen. Just endless void that extended from all directions, from within the void were a few sun like flames floating around.
One desolate and chilling. Yet most of its power faded.
One burning and chaotic, the brightest among them.
One bright and almost transcendent, yet not whole.
Alongside those flames were thousands of white dots that felt like eyes.
But before I could explore this familiar space I felt a familiar wave of emotions hit me like a hammer.
Rage, indignation, fear, sorrow, vengeance, want, melancholy, triumph, dissatisfaction. These emotions that had been suppressed deep, deep inside me banged up against their chains. They spun through my mind one by one, one extremity after another.
Excruciating pain.
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More painful than anything I experienced before as my very ego twisted and strained. My fractured identities twisted into a storm in my mind. The cyclone of emotions felt like being dipped into boiling acid and then put into freezing base.
Eventually, it landed on one.
Indignation, fury, rage, injustice, unfairness.
Molten red eyes peered back at me from the void like a reflection.
...
I woke up.
Instead of the haunting existential crisis and sinking misery that bloated my being, I felt... focused.
My feelings devolved and changed into a familiar searing rage. And then I noticed the slight warmth emanating from around myself.
Everything around a 100 meters of me was either burning or melting. Getting up, I summoned my overturning cape around me as I started walking up the tomb of the giants.
Yes, I could easily warp back to the shrine, but I just wanted to burn some things. Satiate my frustration. My flames seemed stronger and more responsive to me. As if they were alive almost.
There was so much yet so little on my mind as everyone and everything in front of me burnt. So many conflicting thoughts and thousands of words shredded my mind.
But it wasn't over, was it?
I had one thing left to do. I wanted answers and I refuse to go until I got them.
I felt a tugging feeling. Not violent. More like a request. Ever since I got the pendant and awakened my soul. But this wasn't for the request.
It was the last thing left in this dammed fucking messed-up world. For all I cared it could burn down to ash or I would do it myself for the satisfaction but I wanted closure.
At this point, I had killed everything in my path that I needed to kill. But I still didn't know what I needed to do. What I needed. I don't know what answer I needed from there. Nor the question that I wanted the answer for.
But this was the only thing left, my only chance left for an answer.
Images of two girls flashed before my eyes.
Right, they needed answers too. They at least deserved that. This as much for them as it is for me.
By the time those thoughts crossed my mind I was already in the middle of the catacombs. Or whatever remained of them. Everything was either molten or glowing orange. Groaning in frustration which quickly evolved into further rage I grabbed my helmet and sent it back to my inventory.
'{I can't converse with them properly, they at least deserve a proper explanation.}'
My hand which looked like a mix of a dragon's and a person's grasped my face roughly. Squeezing so hard bone cracked and shattered under the grip filled with extreme rage. Fingers dug into skin and muscle.
'{CALM DOWN!!!!! You can't face them like this!}'
My face was all but ripped off by my grip before it relaxed and let go of my disfigured face. Using a bit of magic I healed my face and the molted red in my eyes faded to a calm purple.
'Better.'
Taking a deep breath I teleported back to the shrine, leaving whatever was left of the catacombs behind. When I appeared at the bonfire, Priscilla was sitting next to it while brushing her tail and Quelaan was redecorating the shrine. When she noticed me she immediately went up to my side with a bright smile.
"John! You are okay!"
/HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!/
Shut it.
"Hey Pris, hey Quelaan. I came to check on you guys and to also say something."
Hearing the heavy tone of my words they stopped and paid full attention to me.
"I am fairly certain of your feelings toward me. And while I can't provide a proper response for you two right now, I still care for you two deeply. I am leaving for a small adventure soon, and I will give you two your answers when I come back. All I ask is that you wait and bear with me for a bit."
I half expected to be sliced in half by a scythe or blown up by flames. But what I felt were two warm embraces. Before I could formulate a word to utter, Priscilla spoke.
"Don't worry John. I don't mind, and neither would Quelaan. Besides, I think the two of us are quite experienced in waiting, no? We aren't going anywhere anytime soon, at least not without you."
Quelaan chirped in.
"Big sis is right! I-I just hope you stay safe during your adventure John!"
My arms felt like they weighed several tons but I managed to raise them and return a halfhearted hug.
"Thanks you two. Hopefully, I will return soon, preferably with answers."
With one last goodbye, I warped into darkroot basin. Jumping off the cliff, I landed with no injuries as I made my way through the basin slowly, remotely crushing any golem that noticed me with gravity using umbra. Eventually, my steps carried me to a dark tear in space.
Contrary to my expectations, no hand reached through to grab me. So I simply stepped through myself. My own darksoul being the only reason for me being able to simply step into it.
Immediately I felt myself get dragged through space and time itself. Quite roughly if I may say so myself. Eventually, I was roughly thrown down to the ground. My head aching and filled with nausea. But regardless of the discomfort, it had worked.
I had traveled into the past.
Comments
He did what now
James French
Time to fuck up Chester & haul cirian’s depressed ass back to the future to meet big sif (unless we killed him I don’t remember Lol)
