Chapters 162+163
🕑 Added 2025-03-15 18:00:53 +0000 UTCChapter 162: The Impossible Task; The Final Battle Begins
Swallowed in the darkness of space and a sun disappearing without warning, Walker did what his now long ago training had taught him.
He got the lay of the land.
The sun was missing. Poof! Gone.
Everything he’d ever built, including the large amount of his mistakes from Romulus and Remus, were now a part of Symphony, including Dion and Jacoby, who just wanted to be left alone. The “land” of Symphony was now surrounded on all sides by giants, portal creatures, his gravity wells, and worst of all, Dolphins.
Not to mention the mistakes he’d created on Cadence, the final planet in the Conservatory.
And on top of all that, was the creme de la creme. Somewhere down there was the Slicer and the second dodgy entity that had somehow escaped his notice. Who knew what they would get up to while he dealt with a hundred other problems.
And still, he believed, deep within himself, something worse was yet to come. The figurative, or potentially literal, bomb hadn’t yet dropped. It made a certain amount of sense.
Aside from the sun disappearing, he was getting the same treatment as everyone else. Every Creator had just had all their landmasses combined and set up like his own. All of them had also had all of their “missing” entities translocated back to their combinatory planets.
So what had the Alpha Protocol Council changed?
Rather than wait for it to come, Walker quickly created three reflections, assigning each to a different task. One would inform him of any potential attacks coming his way. One would keep an eye on the area and inform him of anything unusual occurring in the distance. And lastly, one would be assigned to purely Eureka theory ideas. Oddball stuff that he wouldn’t be able to think about when he got too focused on the fight at hand. Each placed a hand on his person in case he needed to move out of space, when suddenly, a blinding bit of light peeked through the darkness.
What had been the blackest of nights was now a thread of light breaking through.
“The sun isn’t gone,” David3 said nonplussed as Walker squinted his eyes at the brightness, “Something’s blocking it.”
“Maybe focus on the non-obvious stuff, David,” Walker commented as the light disappeared a second time.
“Roger.”
“No, your name is David.” One of the Davids commented with a laugh.
“Shut u-” Walker was interrupted by the standard battle screen appearing. Rather than the usual blue, this one was covered in red as it took over his vision.
Battle!
Dante vs. Ra’jin
- - -
Rules:
Stage: Galaxial.
Entities allowed: All.
Rounds: None.
Battle Type: Survival.
Evolution possible: Yes.
Weapons allowed: Yes.
Special Extenuating Circumstances (1/5): Due to the rank of the defending Creator, as well as the changes conducted by the Alpha Protocol Council, special extenuating circumstances have been extended.
Special Extenuating Circumstances (2/5): Rather than face a standard fifth battle opponent, the defending Creator, known as Dante, will instead challenge a high ranking member of the Omega Protocol.
Special Extenuating Circumstances (3/5): As the defending Creator does not have the ability to challenge the attacking entity using the betting system, rewards have been amplified in response.
Special Extenuating Circumstances (4/5): As the defending Creator has received a challenge greater than usual, rewards have been adjusted.
Special Extenuating Circumstances (5/5): Due to the abnormalcy of the forthcoming battle, the Omega Protocol entity will now be locked in stasis for thirty minutes to allow the defending Creator to prepare.
…
Stasis is now in place
- - -
Reward for the winning Creator only:
A guaranteed position on the Alpha Protocol Council with the awarded title: Councilmember One.
Protection for all Creator owned planets from Omega and Psi entities for a duration of no less than ten thousand years.
A reasonable boon to request of the collective council immediately following the battle’s completion.
Reward for the Winning Omega Protocol entity only:
Placement within the top ten Omega Protocol rankings.
Current rank: (13)
Position guaranteed: (9)
Reward for the losing Creator:
Survival and placement back into their universe at the time of their removal.
Reward for the losing Omega Protocol entity:
Reduction in rank below 50.
- - -
Time remaining until stasis removal…
29 minutes and 59 seconds…
Walker read it a second time. So not only were they throwing something considered impossible at him, but even if they won, he was going to get shuttled away from Symphony before he had a chance to clean up whatever mess they were left with after.
There is no way any of the other Creators have to deal with this much bullshit.
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Ferrule: Ranked second in the 4AA Alpha Protocol
A shiny field of gray made up the entirety of Ferrule’s planet. True to his people, the Re-builders, the Creator had gone the way of metal and mechanics for their attempt in the Alpha Protocol.
Judging by his placement, he had made the right choice.
Two recombinators were busy churning the supplied metal and broken parts back into usable entities. Grinding, cracking noises mostly overpowering the sound of gears churning throughout his half of the landscape. It was a truly beautiful sound to a creature such as himself.
He’d once had three recombinators, but his opponent in this endeavor, a snarling humanoid built of green flesh and roped muscle, had aimed for quantity over quality. They’d sacrificed their numbers by the thousands to take down a single, smaller, machine on the far side. Never once suspecting it was a decoy. Luckily, the stupid and swarm-type opponents were the kind Ferrule excelled against.
“Deliver the next ten Ferrum Legions to the fourth quadrant with instructions to shore up the flank. Target lower extremities to further slow down the horde.”
“At once, Creator,” His executor said with a creaking bow before delivering his orders to the dropships.
A large specimen began to cut through a series of pipe turrets in the center of the melee. Tapping into his abilities, Ferrule sent a wave of noxious gas toward the area, greatly slowing down any attempt they made to take over the area. The gas was insidious, draining excess potassium out of the body through their sweat glands. Soon enough, they’ll have trouble standing, let alone attacking his entities.
Naturally, his entities were unharmed as they didn’t need to breathe nor did they technically have muscles.
One of the recombinators finished its work as a hundred Ferrum Ironhounds exited, jaws clanking as they tested their teeth before diving into the rotating vehicle in front of them. As it flew through the sky, collector bots moved forward. Green, red, and gray bodies were unceremoniously thrown into a large fiery hole on the side of the machine. While the fleshy bodies didn’t help greatly, Ferrule’s machines could still strip some necessary resources from them. Everything had its uses.
This would be over quickly.
The next stop? Total assimilation of Rendition 4AA. The multiverse could use a rendition of pure metal.
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A’ia: Ranked third in the 4AA Alpha Protocol
Three vines harder than diamonds snapped out of the ground, impaling the intruders from crotch to chest. They only had a second to scream before being dragged beneath a wriggling mass under the surface.
A’ia smiled as she moved the monitor to another area. She’d already given the command, already planned her attack. Now, all she needed to do was sit back and wait for her enemies to come to her.
Attacking a Woman of the Woods was never a bright idea. You had to burn them out if you wanted a chance to win. But, with her inclusion of a self-regulating water system running through every vine, that made it very, very hard to do.
A group of humans with large metal weapons began to attack a knotted bundle of vines encroaching on her side of the battlefield. While it hurt her to watch it happen, there was always plenty more where they had come from. They were only a tiny part of a much larger mass.
A’ia pressed her hands into the vines extending from where she’d sacrificed her legs for power. Lifting her high into the air, they angled her body so she could closely watch those who would stop her from succeeding.
A moment passed, then another, before a vine burst out of the red clayed ground on their side, swiping them directly into the bundle that was busy changing shape in the moment. Spikes extended all across the area as her opponents were impaled yet again, then dragged deep below.
This time they didn’t have a moment to cry out before they were taken to the bottom of her lovely pit. She felt joy rising from the bulb she’d spent cultivating during her time in the Alpha Protocol. Each drop of blood further helped her bulb evolve to the next stage of growth.
Rather than fear the final battle, she’d welcomed it. As long as there was blood to be had, that is.
Commanding her personal vines again, the Woman of the Woods dropped toward the ground, the way opening up naturally before her. Moving past several levels of protective and interconnected lines, she entered a special chamber with a special purpose.
Three males were bound to the wall, squirming at her entrance. One had great bulbous eyes as he screamed at the top of his lungs. The vines moved her closer to smell him, before she expressed disgust and gestured toward the screaming figure.
The vine binding him crossed over the entirety of his body, then pressed him flat against the wall, crushing him to red paste. It took his leaking body away as she moved next to another. This one smelled of rot and disease, and the wrinkles of his skin did not help his case. Another gesture and only one remained.
Leaning close, she caught his scent and smiled.
“Perfect. Hello, my little darling. How would you like to help me create many, many babies?”
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Blitzburg#4: Ranked twenty-first in the 4AA Alpha Protocol
“Are you sure we can’t solve this amicably?” The Blitzburg said to her opponent through the monitor.
“Umm, I don’t think they’ll let us do that.” The tentacled Furlopian said in return. “I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to, you know, attack each other.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know?” He said, rubbing three appendages against each other, “It’s just how the Alpha Protocol works. You’re a Blitzburg, you know that.”
“You’re right, I know,” Blitzburg#4 muttered to herself, “But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Wouldn’t things be better if-”
“Look, lady, and that’s me assuming your gender there so if I’m wrong I apologize.” He took a quick breath through a vertical slit in his body, “There’s nothing I can do about any of this. The Alpha Protocol chose us to be Creators, and we’ve made it to the final battle. I know your people always get here, but this is a first for my species. I’d like to give it my all if that’s okay.”
“But-”
“No.” he said with a shake of the head, “I’m sorry, but my decision is final. This is the way it has to be.”
Blitzburg#4 sighed, “I understand. Thank you for at least talking to me about it.”
“Of course.” The number fifteen Creator in the Alpha Protocol raised a tentacle with a wave, “Good luck.”
“To you as well.”
Shutting off the monitor, Blitzburg#4 turned her head and looked at the two-hundred-foot golem she’d prepared in case her opponent didn’t listen to reason. Runic writing ran the length of its feet, legs, torso, arms, and hands. It’s transparent skull held a small floating wisp that focused all of its attention on it’s Creator.
“You know what to do. Please try to make it fast. I don’t think the Furlopian deserves to be punished for trying their best.”
The golem nodded its head, and with a friendly wave, teleported directly to the center of her opponent's base of operations. The battle was over in minutes as twenty more teleported to similar areas.
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While all the other Creators battled one another, Walker had already spent two minutes out of his thirty searching across the newly amalgamated landscape, sending private messages to those who hadn’t heard from him in fifty years. It hurt him a little to ignore the tall buildings, statues, and even large monsters now working with free-roaming sapients. But he persevered.
Dante: Runner, go nuts.
Dante: Zeus, I may have to ask a favor of you soon.
Dante: Chipper, be the Guardian everyone needs.
Dante: Lucy, I trust you.
He paused as his eyes caught something.
Who the fuck are-
Walker stopped thinking and acted instead. Instantly, he created and stepped through a gate, only to find himself staring eye to eye with a seven-foot-tall man holding a pulsing staff. “You motherfucker!”
Chapter 163: Nobody
The genocidal man looked much, much worse off than the last time he and Walker had spoken. His robe, previously so lustrous, was torn and had holes in places. Once magnificent and thready, his beard was now mottled with dirt and looked stiff and rigid to the touch- as if it hadn’t been washed in years. The smell coming off of him would agree with that.
Red eyes and a frantic expression were the greeting he received from the man who’d once served as his guide. Albeit, a terrible one.
“Finally! Finally we are here! But I didn’t finish!” Mr. Harrison screamed, bits of spittle dripping down his chin. Walker ignored the brief few that had landed on his face with extreme effort. “It’s all over, it’s over! I failed my taskkk!” He grabbed his head, multiple red splotches showing through on the back as he looked at the ground. “Over!”
Walker felt David3 push on him a little, and he knew what that meant. Quickly activating the Gravity system, Walker covered the manic creature as deeply as possible before activating it. He didn’t know what to expect with this bastard, but he could prepare for the unexpected as best as possible. As the old man started to fall to the ground, the staff pulsed, shucking it off and letting him stand upright with no pressure.
Walker glared at the staff as Mr. Harrison screamed again.
“Over!”
“Shut! Up!” Walker yelled back in his face, that familiar burning feeling rising in his chest. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done you fucking monster!”
Red eyes looked at him in a confused pause before a pulse from the staff knocked Walker back two steps, “Of course I do, you fool! Destroy the Earth! Slow down the Creator of Symphony! Keep him here! KEEP HIM HERE!”
Walker stood straight as the three Davids braced him from behind. He eyed the staff sideways, saying, “What in god’s name are you talking about?”
“You left us! You left us!” He held both sides of his face as his nails dug bloody furrows in wrinkled skin. “A thousand years with no word, no messages or mentions. No sign that the Creator of Symphony would ever speak again. Do you have any idea what Symphony was like for us? The creatures that came from the dark! The mutated souls abounding across the territories! The cities! The fear!” He slammed his staff down, “But no! We had a plan!”
Walker started to lift his foot for a step when the pulsing staff seemed to shift. Noting the warning, he placed his foot back down and asked, “What was the plan?”
He looked away, staring up at the cyan-tinged sky, “It was simple. Simple! But I was too weak! Too soft. The sky. It’s so different. Not green, no-no.”
“What was the plan?” Walker repeated.
Red eyes met his own, “Take the conclave’s greatest weapon. Absorb the powers of our members. Take them all! Drain! Wait for the choice, the decision. The pick, picked, they picked me!”
“Who did?”
“The man. The man with stitches. Images, stitches. Stitches, yes.”
He continued to mutter under his breath as Walker stared at him. The old man seemed to be having a stroke of some kind as spittle frothed at the edges of his mouth. He kept talking as the staff knocked back a few Crystal Nomads who’d approached the noisy area, a group of them gathering around the area.
“The plan! Get picked! Take on the title. Nobody. Nobody needs to know. Nobody. The systems. The systems all broke. Shattered. Unfair.”
“They broke?” Walker asked, taking what he said seriously.
“Chaos. Uncontrolled. Something. Something about going somewhere. Old-Old histories. Base broken. Libraries, broken. No summit. Guardian genocide. Everything in chaos. No Creator, none.” His eyes rolled back into his head for a second, then shot down quickly, the pupils within expanding as he refocused on Walker, “You! Where were you!”
He’s gone completely mad, Walker thought as he said, “I’m right, fucking, here!”
“No! Gone! A thousand years!” His eyes began to water, “My family, gone.”
“He’s flipped his lid,” One of the Davids commented.
“Too much Jamba Juice.”
Walker’s shoulders tightened as he held back from screaming at them. Even though the battle timer had, for the first time ever, disappeared from his overlay, he knew that the Omega entity’s timer was still continuing to tick down. Already he’d lost five minutes out of thirty. Instead of planning out how to kill an Omega Protocol entity, he was dealing with a crazy man ranting at him while a dangerous sentient weapon kept him from doing anything about it.
He took two deep breaths, then asked, “What’s your real name?”
“J-John. John Reed.”
Walker tilted his head, “John Reed? I thought you were lying about that.”
“N-no. Never lied to you. Did I? No. No.” He wiped his ratty robe across his face before looking up at the sky, “My family is descended from Lucy Reed, the first Adventurer. There were many Reeds on Symphony. Many, many.”
Virgil: Ask him about the systems being broken again.
Walker gave a thumbs up behind his body, knowing Virgil could see it through the monitor. “You said the systems were broken. What did you mean?”
“Altered. Not the same. Great power pressed upon people. Children even. No balance. None of the checks mentioned in the histories. A city would rise in a decade, only to fall in a day. Too many tools. Too many horrors.”
Walker rubbed a shaky hand against his face, “How is that even possible? They’re designed to not be fucked with.”
The man pointed a long, wrinkled finger at him. “The histories, they talk about who you are. The Alpha Protocol. And what happened after the final battle. Everything changed. They were old, some thought unreliable, but the Reeds. We held faith in them, as our ancestor did. We found them buried, underneath her shield cairn. No body, no bones, only the histories. Journals. We were confused. The Scripture had disappeared long ago, we couldn’t find it. But the Journals under the cairn explained much. What Symphony had been. What it could be.”
Hearing something, Walker waved off a David who was about to make a joke, giving the reflection a fierce glare.
“One journal spoke of listening in on the Creator's conversation with an assistant. A large squirrel, like, like the Guardians. Spoke of images, time, we could go back. We needed to be picked. The stitched man.”
That didn’t necessarily mean it was Council Member five…but what are the chances that it wasn’t? And if it is, then what does that mean? What kind of game is he playing?
Suddenly, Walker couldn’t help but consider for a second time, why the Councilmember had Godeater lines across his body. Just to confirm, he asked, “And the stitched man picked you?”
“Yes! Me! A Reed. It made sense. But there were problems. The journal from the scripture said that you were fallible. Human. Your hands, they don’t, you don’t write well. So, slow you down. Slowest instrument possible. Force a harder task. First task. Make it so you have a harder time, don’t think about the Earth. The people. The weakness of your soul. Make it so you don’t leave!” He screamed the last word. “Make it so you don’t have a home to go back to! No more Earth! No more family! Just-” He paused, “Just like me.”
The Davids weren’t joking now as all three tightened their grip on his clothing. Walker’s mind shifted through his memories, one thing standing out. The blackboard. The first creation instrument he’d ever had. It had been almost impossible to use with his Dysgraphia, something that didn’t even touch him now. But, if the tasks hadn’t been harder; if he hadn’t been forced to constantly go back and fix things, as frustrating as they were, he’d never have leaned into building systems on Symphony. It made him think about fixed fate again. Just as he started to travel down that rabbit hole, something else stood out to him.
“You destroyed the Earth, so I couldn’t return to it. That’s the reason you murdered billions of people? You killed my friends and destroyed my planet, just so I’d have nothing to return to?”
“Yes! Of course! Symphony is all that matters! It wasn’t easy, no. No, no.” He gave a hectic laugh that seemed to bubble from the inside, “Everything for Symphony. Everything from Nobody.” Just as fast as he’d started to laugh, he began to cry again, “It was so hard! I didn’t want to kill them. It’s what was required. Needed. Demanded. Blood for blood. Save Symphony, doom the Earth. All for Symphony. Savior, yes. I’m Symphony’s savior now! I’m a Reed! Faith for the Creator!”
John Reed gave Walker a smile that said he knew he was doomed, but he didn’t care.
“I have saved my family.” The staff stopped pulsing as hands left it. It fell to the ground just like any natural piece of wood would.
John Reed’s smile seemed to fill Walker’s entire vision, his eyes locked in just as his mind fractured.
Like a tide rising, each wave of thought slammed into the next, pushing and shoving each other out of the way. He should be shocked, but he wasn’t. He should be burning with rage, but again, he wasn’t. He was cold. Inert. Some piece inside of him, something that wanted to save itself, died this day.
The Earth was gone, because of him. Him. Did he choose the Alpha Protocol? No. That was taken out of his hands. It was never his choice. But that didn’t seem to matter much, now did it?
To this creature, the lives of those people were disposable. He didn’t try to reason with Walker. Didn’t try to help him succeed in the Protocol. He’d made a decision for him, taking away one of Walker’s options in a bid to control his fate.
Small parts of him argued that this meant he would succeed, but Virgil had already nipped that thought in the bud. All of the images were taken from potentially successful worlds in the Alpha Protocol. All likely stemming from the stitched man. Council Member Five.
There were no guaranteed victories, only potential ones.
The David’s remained silent. Virgil didn’t send another message. Time in this moment seemed frozen. Everything around the area was quiet, as if the world was holding its breath. The only thing Walker could hear was his own heartbeat.
Ba-duh-Ba-duh-Ba-duh
Even as the waves started to slow, as his mind tried so very hard to find a way to explain how this wasn’t his fault. How none of it was his fault. To excuse him. It didn’t matter. His life had led to the end of his homeworld. It wasn’t global warming or nuclear winter that had destroyed the Earth. It wasn’t an asteroid or overpopulation. It was the life of Walker Reed.
He couldn’t save the Earth…but he could avenge it.
Two hands balled up into fists as the cold feeling in his chest gave way to a spring of warmth. That John Reed was insane wasn’t in the least bit of doubt. He was the executioner and destroyer of the Earth. The monster in the shadows that people spoke of when awakening from nightmares. And he stood right in front of Walker with a happy smile on his face.
Virgil’s voice drifted into the area from nowhere, “If he is to be believed, I can keep the systems from going out of control. I can keep Symphony safe.”
The sound of Virgil’s voice threw Walker out of his need for vengeance. For a moment, he mentally paused and processed how Virgil was speaking to him. It was the new Linking system Walker had created while within the Time Rings. The system allowed the Supreme Assistant to use all of his abilities, something Walker thought might be necessary with the final battle arriving.
Accepting that, he asked, “How?” through clenched teeth.
“It is best left unsaid, but please be aware, as long as we win here, Symphony will be fine.”
Having listened in, John Reed crowed with an ecstatic expression, “Hah! I knew it would work!” just as Walker’s fist descended on the old man’s face.
The cracking sound of a shattered cheekbone rang out in the clearing as the old man fell to the ground. Walker stepped closer, shaking his fist at him “You didn’t cage me, John.” Walker said through the tears flowing quickly down his face, “You didn’t free me either. All you’ve done is sacrifice my homeworld for NOTHING!”
The old man rolled to his back as he stared at the sky, ignoring the blood, bone and torn muscles jutting from the side of his face. With a pained smile he said, “You may not be free, but I am.”
Walker began to reach down when the man in front of him exploded in a fountain of blood and gore. Pieces of him flew in every direction as the staff on the ground rolled a small distance away.
“What the fuck!” One of the Davids yelled as Walker took two steps back, swiping what looked like a large ear off his chest.
“Finally!” A hissing voice said nearby, “Finally, I’ve found you.”
