Deus Necros

The others began shouting with him. One dropped to his knees, while another clutched both sides of his head and squeezed his eyes shut, as though refusing to look could somehow undo the journey. The strongest among them remained standing, but even his hardened expression cracked beneath the fear rising through it.

Tull staggered as awareness returned to him. He caught himself before falling and raised one hand toward his temple, his eyes sharpening through a rush of confusion.

”What the hell happened?”

He turned toward Ludwig. ”Where are we?”

”We’re trying to find out,” Ludwig said. ”Good that you woke up, though.”

Tull looked around. His gaze passed over the platform, the chasm, and the distant white tower. Confusion remained in his expression, but unlike the tribesmen, he showed no sign of recognition.

Redd awoke next. He inhaled sharply and nearly tripped over his own feet. His sister’s spirit expanded beside him, the shapeless energy rapidly regaining its familiar wolf-like outline. She shook herself as though emerging from deep water, her spectral ears flattening against her head.

Thomas stirred beneath Ludwig’s cloak. A small flame pushed its way out, wings reforming as he climbed onto Ludwig’s shoulder.

”What happened?” Thomas asked.

”You fell asleep,” Ludwig said.

Thomas frowned as he looked around and noticed the panic consuming the tribesmen. ”What the hell is going on?”

”We’re trying to find out.”

Kaiser’s attention remained fixed on the panicking men. ”Interesting. From their reactions, it seems they remember this place.”

Ludwig watched one of them crawl backward from the edge of the platform. ”Doesn’t look like a good memory.”

”It never does.”

The strongest tribesman shouted something in a language none of them understood. Several of his companions turned immediately and ran toward the canyon.

Panic made them fast. They crossed half the platform within moments, sprinting toward the passage through which they had arrived. The first man reached the paved road and planted his foot upon the stretch of white cubes.

His expression emptied.

The man stopped running, and his arms dropped loosely to his sides. He remained motionless for a moment before calmly turning around and walking back toward the platform.

The others followed. Each of them collapsed into unconscious obedience the instant they moved far enough from the platform. Their terror vanished, their bodies straightened, and they turned around to return to the same place they had been so desperate to escape.

When they stepped back onto the platform, awareness returned.

The first man screamed. Another collapsed and clawed desperately at the white floor beneath him. They were awake enough to understand that they had attempted to flee, yet none of them could remember being turned around.

The strongest tribesman spat onto the cubes. ”Damnation.”

Ludwig approached him. ”You know about this place?”

The man turned. His face held more than fear now. There was hatred within it, but it was not directed toward the distant tower.

It was directed at Ludwig.

”I wish you had never set foot in this place,” he said. ”I wish we had never met you.”

His fingers tightened around his weapon until the leather grip creaked. ”Now you have doomed us all.”

Ludwig’s eyes narrowed.

”What the hell is going on?” Redd asked. ”Can someone please explain?”

The tribesmen continued shouting over one another. Some blamed each other, while others pointed at Ludwig’s group. One attempted to run again, only to stop and turn back when the cubes took hold of his mind. Panic fed upon panic until their words became little more than noise echoing over the chasm.

Cain stepped forward. ”Everyone.”

No one listened.

The elder vampire’s eyes darkened as power moved through them. It was not visible like fire or lightning, yet Ludwig felt its weight spread across the platform. Cain’s presence expanded, ancient and absolute, pressing against every living mind around him.

”Calm yourselves.”

The words carried Dominion.

The tribesmen stopped. Their bodies obeyed before their fear could resist. Shouts died in their throats, hands loosened around weapons, and their breathing slowed, although several still trembled beneath the compulsion.

Tull winced. Redd’s ears lowered, and even Celine’s posture tightened slightly beneath the weight of her uncle’s command.

Cain looked toward the strongest tribesman. ”Now explain.”

The man’s jaw clenched. His hatred remained, but it could no longer erupt into panic.

”What is going on?” Cain asked.

The tribesman looked across the chasm, his eyes rising toward the immense white structure beyond the forest. For several breaths, he could not speak. When he finally managed to answer, his voice had become quiet.

”Once you get up the tower, you’ll find out.”

He pointed toward the smaller tower standing at the edge of the platform. Its narrow white body overlooked the abyss, and from this angle Ludwig could now see that its upper chamber faced directly toward the distant palace.

”You’ll learn about this hell we once lived in.”

No one moved.

Ludwig glanced from the frightened tribesmen to the tower across the chasm.

A hell.

That was not what the distant structure looked like.

It was clean, untouched, and safe. The dreary forest surrounding it only made its white walls appear brighter. Its towers rose above the sickly trees with the grace of something built by gods rather than mortals.

There were no black armies gathered around it. No monsters prowled its terraces, and no corpses hung from its walls. From where Ludwig stood, it looked like the only beautiful place in the entire Dark Continent.

Kaiser stared across the gulf. ”Looks like heaven lost a piece, and now it’s here.”

The tribesman’s head snapped toward him.

”No.”

The force of the answer surprised them, breaking through even the restraint of Cain’s compulsion. The man looked back toward the distant palace.

”That is what it wants you to think.”

Ludwig rested Durandal against one shoulder. ”And the smaller tower?”

The tribesman’s mouth tightened. ”The Watch Hollow.”

Ludwig looked up at it.

So this was the place they had promised to show him. It was not a hidden camp or a lookout concealed among the mountains. It was a platform deliberately built at the end of a path that erased the minds of those traveling upon it, facing a magnificent white structure across an impassable chasm.

Kaiser stepped toward the tower.

The tribesman immediately caught him by the sleeve. ”Do not.”

Kaiser looked down at the hand, and the man released him.

”Why?” Kaiser asked.

”Because once you climb it, you will see.”

”That is generally the purpose of climbing observation towers.”

”You don’t understand.”

”Then improve my understanding.”

The tribesman lowered his gaze. ”We came here long ago.”

”How long?” Ludwig asked.

The man shook his head. ”We do not know.”

”Before the White One reached this land?”

The answer took time.

”No.”

The tribesman looked toward the palace again. ”We came because of it.”

The white tower remained silent across the chasm. Ludwig could see no movement within its windows or across its balconies. Yet the longer he stared, the more he felt that the structure was not abandoned.

It was waiting.

The tribesman continued. ”We saw it from far away. A place untouched by hunger and untouched by beasts. There were lights in its windows, water running from its walls, and trees that bore fruit even when the rest of the land starved.”

His voice became strained. ”We thought we had found salvation.”

Kaiser’s expression sharpened with interest. ”And instead?”

The man looked toward the Watch Hollow.

”Climb.”

Ludwig studied him. ”You just told us not to.”

”You will not believe me.”

”I believe quite a lot of terrible things.”

”You will think I am lying or mad. We all did when the first survivors returned.” The man pointed toward the narrow tower. ”Climb. Look across the chasm. Then you will understand why we hide.”

The platform fell quiet again. Even the wind seemed unable to cross the abyss.

Ludwig looked toward Kaiser. The former lich smiled faintly.

”This is becoming interesting.”

”That usually means painful.”

”Often.”

Celine moved closer to Ludwig. ”The tribesmen cannot leave.”

”No,” Ludwig said.

”And the cube field will put the others back under if we retreat.”

”Yes.”

Cain glanced toward the canyon behind them. ”The mechanism brought us here deliberately. It likely expects us to use the tower.”

”Then we shouldn’t,” Redd said.

Kaiser looked at him. ”That would be terribly rude.”

Redd stared at him.

”It built a platform, paved a road, provided guides, opened the canyon, and placed an observation tower at the end,” Kaiser continued. ”Someone has gone through considerable effort.”

”It’s Sloth,” Ludwig said. ”Considerable effort should be impossible for him.”

Kaiser’s faint amusement disappeared. ”That is an excellent point.”

Ludwig looked once more at the flawless palace across the chasm.

Sloth embodied inertia, stillness, the erosion of effort, and the surrender of consequence. Yet everything around them had been arranged with careful purpose.

The cubes. The hypnotic road. The giant opening and sealing the canyon. The platform. The Watch Hollow. The immaculate structure beyond.

Either Sloth had expended an impossible amount of effort creating this place, or the entire system had existed for so long that it no longer required his attention.

Perhaps it maintained itself.

Perhaps the people drawn here maintained it for him.

Ludwig tightened his hand around Durandal. ”Let’s see this heaven of his.”

The tribesman closed his eyes. There was no relief in his expression, only resignation.

Ludwig walked toward the Watch Hollow. Behind him, the distant white palace stood above the dead forest, beautiful enough to make hope feel reasonable.

That was what made it terrifying.