Chapter 159: The final push
There were no words, including profanity. How? How could Simon think of going through an obscure demonic portal?! Honestly, if I were the cultists, I would have set some kind of trap at the exit, like a room with spikes, or, in general, I would have placed the exit point in the center of an active volcano or in a room with acid. In such a case, even a conditionally immortal creature would become very sad.
After all, one could meditate to make sense of the available knowledge, good thing the temple was cleared and the elevator was out of commission. Maybe the information was already in the guy's head, but hidden behind a pile of related garbage? Or maybe he knew what awaited him, and that's why he stepped into the darkness so boldly?
It's a long guess, but what's done is done. In any case, neither Harley nor I had the slightest desire to follow, and neither did our sudden allies. One Kirk tried to touch the strange haze, and immediately got a gorgeous burn on his right hand. Oh, life teaches him nothing. Now he's sitting on a bench and regenerating, swearing through clenched teeth.
I don't like the fact that the local energy has started to do a lot of damage to demonic and semi-demonic entities. And such that not every light spell will give out, and also reduces the regeneration rate. I would have to figure out what gives such an interesting effect... However, while Simon went to battle with the protagonist, our company had more pressing work to do.
My gaze fell on a large stone set on a dais. Someone had thrown a white blanket over it, decorated with floral embroidery, and placed a pair of golden candelabras on top, as if hoping that no one would pay attention to the emanations of pain and suffering emanating from the altar.
I should destroy it as soon as possible... But how do I do that? I simply don't have enough energy reserves to suppress a full-fledged altar, and physical weapons are useless too. Well, maybe a tactical nuclear charge has a good chance of damaging the outer circuit, but I don't have anything like that at hand, and even my hoarding assistant just frustratedly waved her hands, giving me a couple of defensive grenades, which she kept for emergencies. The portal from Shadow Peak, unfortunately, would not work here either. Of course, technically speaking, the Dragon's Vein has a higher capacity than the altar soaked in other people's suffering, but the portal arch can't boast of such a thing, and it's unlikely that there aren't some pitfalls, like incompatibility of spatial energy with demonic energy. Zee and I didn't really touch on the subject of creating portals near active sacrificial altars, because even in a drunken delirium the sorceress couldn't imagine that her student, who'd only been studying magic for a couple of months, would purposefully go into the cultists' lair again. Although it was easy to assume that the exact setting of coordinates in this place was hardly possible.
In principle, I could try to temporarily seal the altar, for I know a suitable rune complex, which will obviously have to be scaled, because it is designed to close small gaps from other plans. But this also requires energy, while there are only a dozen relatively large diamonds left in the reserve. In addition, sealing requires, strangely enough, the installation of seals, and the local background tends to drink up any free mana, and if it were not for the aura, my reserves would have long been gone, as well as would not be able to create even weak spells.
"Mr. J, I don't feel right," my beloved tugged gently at my sleeve, distracting me from finding a solution to a fascinating problem.
"Yeah?" I surveyed my surroundings with interest, trying different spectrums of perception, but everything seemed to be normal... Oh fuck!
Just a little while ago, I'd been wondering why the surrounding mana didn't affect us at all, even though it was hard to breathe when I got to the mansion. It was as if a couple of cement bags had been thrown back on my shoulders, and my aura had shrunk under the weight of the world around me.
"Tom, do you feel anything strange?"
The detective covered his eyes for a moment, assessing his own condition.
"I think I'm okay, but my arm's still a little sore."
The same questions were asked of our allies, but they also felt nothing dangerous, but the girl and I were getting more and more difficult. The voices began to whisper at the edge of our hearing, and the numerous shadows in the corners began to take on a frightening volume.
"Huh," the fog dissipated under the influence of the funny memories, but it didn't relieve me of the external pressure. I even had to lean on the nearest column.
"Hey, are you all right? - A concerned Kirk was at his side in a flash.
"We need to... go..."
The air in my lungs was frankly lacking.
"Susie, r-rahg roug-ftan Harley.
The man began to help me walk toward the escape route, but suddenly my weakness receded, and my intuition began to tingle unpleasantly, signaling trouble. It was as if a tiny speck had gotten into my eye and wouldn't come off.
"Stop! - I stopped the evacuation.
Unhooking the detective I stepped away from the team a bit to feel my strength decline again.
Step forward, two back, go around the company in a circle, then take the blonde cutie with him, twirling her in a kind of dance in an expanding spiral under the very surprised looks of the Pokémon and the detective. And then throw the usual napalm grenade into the passage.
The illusion of the door disintegrated with dark smoke, revealing numerous sharp spikes smeared with a suspicious black liquid that glistened in the light of the hot flames, as well as the man standing against the wall who had given us a warm welcome earlier and then washed away in a vortex of purple tentacles, having been roasted on holy fire and stripped of his horn.
"The rumors of your incredible luck weren't lying," the demon said, baring his pointed teeth.
"Really, there are such rumors? - I asked the hottie who was hugging me.
"Well, well... Something like that was always there, there's a reason Betsy had almost no way to interfere with your plans."
"Huh, you say that too. It's all about proper planning and..."
"We've been over this," the cultist interrupted me rudely, not allowing me to stall for time. - But now the distraction will only prolong your miserable lives a little longer. No one else will come to your aid; the Master will take care of that.
"Huh, in case you haven't noticed, our team has expanded a bit. Demon, this is Gaius, Gaius, this is the demon whose head you're about to unscrew."
The former gladiator, as if he understood my speech, rushed briskly towards the fanatic.
"Not so fast! Cerberus, take it!"
Before I knew it, a pair of thick, purple tentacles had swept up from somewhere under the man's feet, knocking the yellow monster back with a powerful kick. Gaius tumbled across the marble floor until he crashed into a statue of a defiled angel.
"Tindal's hound! - I shouted involuntarily, recognizing our new adversary.
As if playing to an audience, the infernal creature slowly emerged into the real world, taking advantage of the junction between the floor and the wall, and then stepped forward, covering its grinning master. Dark purple skin with green veins, from which oozes a kind of acid, two meters at the withers, weighing under half a ton, powerful physique, head is replaced by tentacles, which in the inactive state are folded into a kind of bud. The attack can come from any corner, and there are five of these creatures, if not more.
"The Master had summoned him as a puppy, blocking his connection to the pack. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to take care of such an unusual pet, so I took care of him. So now Cerberus is my faithful companion and the nightmare of my enemies. A perfect hunter that even the strongest walls can't protect you from," he said proudly, scratching the Hound's head as if it were an ordinary dog.
"Wait, what? - I clarified, clearing my ear.
"The nightmare of my enemies? - The man asked ironically, feeling like the master of the situation.
Although it could hardly be otherwise: Dark Cathedral, where everything is saturated with native demonic energy, in the defenders of an incredibly powerful creature, with which even the senior demons are afraid to mess with, at the side of the altar, interfering with the creation of light spells, and against him is a non-mage with a helper, three half-demons of different levels of strength and a weak chimera. The only thing he didn't take into account was that someone had carefully read all the available information on the Hounds of Tyndall, hoping to create more spatial pockets to carry more useful things.
***
There was no jolt or any of the twists and turns Joker had told them about as they traveled through the labyrinth. Only a cozy enveloping darkness, which in an instant was replaced by an empty white space with no end and no edge. There was literally nothing to catch the eye, because sterile emptiness reigned all around. And though there was clearly some flat surface underfoot, resembling the structure of the floor of the temple left behind, there was no shadow, for light seemed to pour in from all sides.
Looking back Simon found only the waning dark smoke that had previously formed the archway of transition.
Emptiness and silence. It was as if time had stopped, allowing me to contemplate Eternity.
And strangely enough, in this place the boy stopped feeling threatening from everywhere, on the contrary, he felt a real peace. He had felt a similar feeling only when he returned to the crypt beneath the burnt-out Church of the Holy Martyr, soaked in his native energy.
"It's a fascinating feeling, isn't it? - A man's voice came from nearby, snapping the chimera out of a semblance of Nirvana.
The young man, to his great surprise, turned around and found an elderly man in an elegant black suit sitting in a good leather armchair. Not breaking out of the general entourage, next to him was a small nightstand, on which stood an empty bottle of whiskey with a glass and an ashtray with a cigarette case, creating together with the chair a kind of cozy corner for an elderly English gentleman.
"Hello, Simon," the unknown man smiled kindly and saluted with a lit cigar.
"Do I know you? - The guy was wary, realizing perfectly well that when pursuing the master of a cruel and mysterious order, almost entirely made up of demons and possessed, he was unlikely to meet any left-handed characters. Although this fact does not mean that it is necessary to immediately rush to the attack, the more the man has not yet shown any aggression. In addition, his intuition insisted that the man in front of him was much more dangerous than Gaius, despite his harmless appearance, so, following the illustrative example of his new friend, he should distract the enemy with conversation and prepare thoroughly.
"Hmm... I'm not sure. But I guess you could say I'm your father."
"Gustav Farmer?! - Simon stared in shock at the gray-haired old man. The revelation knocked him off balance, causing the spell he'd been preparing to cast to dissipate in harmless black-and-white flashes.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," the man continued to smile softly and shook his head negatively, ignoring his interlocutor's little gaffe. - "I'm your second 'father'. I'm the one who helped with the calculations of the ritual and provided some specific ingredients. You know, no one had ever tried to combine twenty souls into one being before.
"Twenty? Isn't it nineteen?"
"Nineteen humans, and the twentieth soul belonged to a weak newborn demon, which acted as a base, a kind of cement, binding together disparate emotions, feelings and even memory. For some reason, some people believe that demons have no soul, and so they hunt for strangers, seeking to fill the void within themselves, except that it is not so. They too have desires, aspirations, feelings... Yes, sometimes primitive, but only those who have a soul creatures can possess all this. Gustav and I worked hard to get to the top of the dark-magic art, to create a perfect creature that belonged to both worlds, but at some point Gustav decided that we weren't on the same path. It's sad," his shoulders slumped and his gaze clouded, as if he were lost in memories.
It was several minutes before Simon, having digested the information that only confirmed his hunches, decided to break the lingering silence.
"You still haven't introduced yourself."
"Oh, I'm sorry old man, I don't think straight after death sometimes," the inhabitant of the empty space turned his head slightly, showing a sloppy bullet hole on his temple, from which blood was slowly oozing. - My name is Dall Moss, once upon a time I was mayor of this city and a Guardian. My son followed in my footsteps and became mayor as well... And now he too is dead, murdered to be exact. A generational succession, so to speak.
"Why are you telling me all this?"
The mention of the murdered mayor of Gotham made the boy wary. If the revelations about the past looked more or less appropriate, the mention of his son was strange. As if he wasn't the one stalling, but the man sitting in front of him was.
"A little history. Because you don't know who you are, Simon. And you should, you really should."
"Definitely stalling for time!" - ran through his mind. Unfortunately, his humanism and subconscious fear of his creator, acquired from reading novels, did not allow him to launch an attack.
"I have to stop the Gate from opening. I don't have time to listen to--
"You've got plenty of time," the former mayor interrupted rudely, "you've got plenty of time. That's the beauty of this place," he showed an elegant gold watch on his wrist, on which the second hand moved slowly, slowly. - We could talk for a month, and you'd have time to make a Choice before the Gate finally collapsed and Gotham was finished.
"A choice? What choice is there?!"
"Choosing your destiny, of course. Would you like a drink? - The older man abruptly changed the subject, taking a bottle of whiskey from the nightstand.
"No, thank you."
"You prefer to stay sober. Well, I approve," and Moss leaned back in his chair, pouring the dark drink into his glass. - Now, where were we? Oh, yes. The choice of purpose. You see, the creators of the Gate were very clever people. They were well aware that, in addition to ordinary demons, more powerful creatures would want to visit this world. Knowing human nature, they severely limited the bandwidth of their own creation, yes, so that even themselves were unable to increase it. But I have found a way out. A creature fully belonging to both worlds was needed, to be the heart of the design. And now you are here," a smile of anticipation came over the man's face, and his blue eyes turned dark for a moment. - Only one Key can unlock the doors of Eternal Night. Gotham and all who reside within it will be consumed. And the silence that accompanies chaos and oblivion will cover everything in its path until day and night are one.
When he sensed something wrong, he tried to retreat, but to his surprise he realized that he couldn't take a step. Millions of invisible and incredibly strong threads surrounded his body.
"You're not Dall Moss."
"Right and wrong. Dall Moss had become a vessel for something greater," the mysterious man's voice changed to something incredibly powerful. - When he and Gustav had performed the ritual, they had summoned forces beyond the control of ordinary mortals. Dall knew that one of them would be victimized and captured, so he prepared carefully, expecting to deceive the summoned entity. As you can see, it didn't work, though he had prepared for that outcome as well. Powerful amulets and dark rituals were supposed to protect my mind from the entity's influence, and they did work, keeping me in the depths of consciousness for years. Even so, I sometimes managed to influence decisions, gradually undermining the seals. I have to admit, the old man proved to be very powerful, and in some ways I was lucky that he and Gustav had a falling out, or else he might have noticed the frequent summoning of devils and the change in the Order's policies. Toward the end of his life, Dall still managed to realize that he had become my puppet. He managed to block our communication, seal the Gate, and conceal the location of the Key, and then uncomplicatedly put a bullet in his temple, but that only let me out. But let the past be the past. We're more interested in the present and the future, aren't we, Simon? It's just that while we're having a nice chat, a great plague is slowly sweeping through the city. By the end of this day, everyone will be infected.
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