#soul liminality

[khyann]

A commission made by the talented @wassup-its-e!

Art of me and my partner @lunarsands' beloved cursed angel Myth from xer fanfic series Soul Liminality

[lunarsands]

Multi-SMP Fanfic: Which Fate’s Fairest To Us All – Ch 5

Characters: Mythical Sausage (1st), Rusty the Copper Golem, PearlescentMoon, Scott Smajor (1st), Mythical Sausage (2nd), Hermes, Mythical Sausage (3rd), Scott Smajor (2nd), Rocky the Goblin, and a couple of briefly mentioned cameos at the end!

WARNINGS: Character death (but they get better because Afterlife/New Life rules are in play), body horror

Chapter Summary: Things are literally heating up for the group in the labyrinth. Meanwhile, Smajor has an encounter with a changed Sparrow. Myth undergoes an unexpected transformation, but it seems to be just what’s needed to deal with the mutated Warden… and more. (Hi I’ve been brainfried and realized after I’d posted the other chapters that they could use their own summaries)

Sequel to Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall and follows sometime after the events of Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All.

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ]

Chapter Five

The scene at the battle site was quite fiery, indeed. Hermes hovered above, dodging fireballs and baiting Wardens to go after him, then neatly avoiding them once getting them lined up perfectly for a shot from Myth or the Ghast Mage. There were now six Wardens including the one Myth had initially targeted. The sounds behind him had gotten the phoenix’s attention, and while he did try to deliver a crippling blow to the first Warden’s legs, it hadn’t taken long for it to lumber over and join the others.

Not all of them were infested with mycelium. At least three were normal Wardens, although it was getting difficult to tell which one was which with all the fire and smoke in the air. Hermes was doing his best to be mindful of both. Eventually, though, he needed to land to get below the smoke line. He chose a spot behind the Ghast Mage since Myth was turning into a raging ball of fire once again.

The Ghast Mage looked no less angry. His face was streaked with tears, flames spewing from his lips as he yelled, “Phoenix! Aim for the sculk, too!” He turned his runny eyes to Hermes. “You, too – if you can use your lightning to spark a fire on that stuff!”

“I’ll give it a try,” Hermes said. “But are you going to be alright?”

Ghast-sage stifled a cough. “No choice! He can’t handle these things alone, even if he is able to regenerate so fast!”

As if on cue Myth’s form went up in a burst of bright flames – yet this time they were tinged blue. Hermes frowned. “He’s burning hotter every time. I don’t think that’s a good sign.”

“Worry about it later. We’ve got to stop any more of them from climbing out. TIME TO BURN EVERYTHING, BOYS!!” Ghast-sage dashed to the nearest sculk patch and uttered a ghastly shriek as he began pummeling it with fireballs.

Hermes pinched his lightning bolt earring for luck, hoping the alignment frequency remained sturdy, then gathered some power around himself and the trident’s tines. He pointed them at a Warden who was stumbling toward the Ghast Mage and unleashed a bolt strong enough to knock it off its feet.

The Warden struggled to regain its balance, giving Hermes time to direct a bolt at one of the Wardens closing in on Myth, who was peppered with bright blueish-white flames from his latest revival.

This time the glow surrounding his feathers faded to yellow instead of orange.

Just then Scott popped into view, distracting Hermes from his concern. Ghast-sage gestured to himself before pointing from one sculk patch higher up on the wall to one across from it, then to a third near the ground. As they teleported off on that route, Hermes took it as a sign to target any patches except those three – as well as any Wardens who got in the way. The senses of the creatures seemed to have been thrown off by the explosions all over the place, so Hermes decided to cause a few localized thunderclaps to add to the auditory chaos, making one or another Warden turn toward that sound and give Myth a chance to retreat elsewhere.

Not that he seemed inclined to retreat, or move to any spot clear of danger.

When not trying to set Wardens on fire, he was swooping toward patches of sculk and incinerating as much as he could in one touch. He had even managed to use a few beats of his blazing wings to sear moss hanging off the Wardens’ antennae. Concern returned to Hermes as he wondered if the phoenix would turn himself into an inferno to deal more damage.

The roars of agony from the Wardens were beginning to be swallowed up by the sound of whooshing fireballs and Myth’s own snarls. Hermes was glad his father wasn’t close enough to feel the scorching heat. Soon enough even the Staff might be at risk of igniting.

Within minutes of Scott’s arrival, the majority of the sculk patches were eliminated. Hermes had taken down two of the Wardens, while Myth had killed at least three. He was on the last one now, intent on dishing out one or more of his kamikaze bursts of blinding fire. His feathers retained a blueish tint after the latest one, white flames remaining along his arms as well as coming off the corners of his eyes.

Myth glanced around rapidly, hunting for more sculk or remaining Wardens. Scott and the Ghast Mage reappeared; Ghast-sage collapsed onto his backside on the ground, sighing in exhaustion, while Scott opened a bundle and hastily began eating to replenish his powers.

The lot of them went deathly still as they heard a splattering sound.

Somewhere, a patch of the bizarre sculk remained.

Above.

It was somewhere above. They witnessed more sculk vein hit the ground near to where the Ghast Mage sat. It spread with insane speed, forcing Scott to grab his friend and teleport out of the way.

They reappeared beside Myth, who continued to emit the blueish flames. Hermes quickly joined them. He flinched when he felt the level of heat radiating off Myth.

The phoenix didn’t notice the reaction, his stare glued to the subsequent bubbling and rapid spread of sculk across the floor. He murmured with genuine worry, “What happened to this place? It was completely abandoned the last time I was here. There’s no way Smajor could have caused all of this in the time we’ve been in that world… Everything was the same here, right down to the messes we left behind when we fought—!”

The ground rumbled louder than ever before, shaking the surroundings with enough force to send debris raining down from the tops of walls again. An arm shot up from the sculk patch, followed by another. They grasped at the floor beyond, leaving deep furrows in the as-yet unsculkified stone.

Then another arm emerged.

Then another.

Two sets of antennae emerged.

A roar rang out, amplified twofold.

A two-headed, four-armed Warden pulled itself out of the sculk. Its body was a twisted combination of blue-black and grayish-purple. Within its exposed ribcage was a warring swirl of turquoise and violet light, with the shapes similar to those of the faces on soulsand violently contorting in frenzied turmoil. Equal amounts of sculk vein and stringy purple moss hung off of it.

It was also gigantic in comparison to the previous Wardens.

Ghast-sage leaned heavily on Scott. “I… I don’t know… how much more… I’ve got in me,” he huffed. He coughed and attempted to stoke up some fire, but all that rose from his palms and mouth were feeble puffs of smoke that immediately dissipated. “We – We need to run.”

To be fair, the direction they needed to go was currently right at their backs.

But there was one problem.

“My dad and Rusty are still back there,” Hermes said, pointing past the mutated Warden.

Scott patted the bundle he had been carrying. “My power is still recharging, but I need to save some of this. I don’t think I can teleport to them and back quickly enough.”

Myth stepped forward, eyes aglow with blueish-white flames. “I’ll just have to fight it to buy enough time.”

~*~

Smajor groaned as he revived for possibly the eighth time since he had… encouraged… Myth to enter the portal. He pulled the strangling sculk vein away from his neck, grateful that it had gone slack when it perceived him to be dead. He had one block of mycelium left under each foot, but it was enough to get him powered up again.

He freed his arms then did a twirl to unwind the rest of the viny sculk vein from around his body. Mycelium appeared with every step, slowly but steadily spreading. Smajor sneered as he kicked the catalyst that had popped up during his previous death. “This stuff is more persistent than Myth is. But I guess I am giving it a perpetual source of death to multiply from.”

He stepped upward on slippery stairs toward the portal, leaving a trail of tiny mushrooms in his wake in order to give the sculk more to overcome before it tried to surge once again. For the twelfth time he pulled off the sculk vein that had gathered over the bottom of the portal frame, sprinkling plenty of mushroom spores along the frame as another deterrent. He had tried a variety of all combinations of magic that was at his disposal. The sculk was relentless. He had begun to wonder what would happen if he let it breach the portal.

He refused to let it. Not until he had some kind of confirmation on Myth’s status.

Not until he saw that hypocritically righteous oaf stumble out, with or without their missing doubles, exhausted from navigating the labyrinth. Smajor had no doubts about Myth finding his way out.

He smiled bitterly to himself. The downside was whether Myth would come back to this world, or go to their original one. Smajor had taken a gamble by tossing his rival into the labyrinth. The first time they had left it – whatever method had been used, since his own urge to kill destroyed any possibility of Myth telling him about it – obviously sent them and their goody-goody doubles back to their own worlds rather than to the same one.

Smajor directed a mushroom to grow large enough for him to sit on, then he relaxed there for the moment, enjoying what was probably going to be a short reprieve from sculk attacks. He had infinite time to wait, after all.

He didn’t bat an eye as he heard something approach from behind him. He merely prepared to slowly rise from his seat, poised to whip his arm around and make the mycelium surge.

An actual if not distorted voice made him pause. “What have you done to our shrine?!”

“Sp-Sparrow?�� Smajor wheeled around and stared, shocked that the odd person had ventured this deep. He then squinted for a second, noticing the sickeningly familiar blue-black and turquoise clinging to an otherwise humanoid-looking Sparrow. “Is that you? Weren’t you a copper golem the last time I saw you?”

“When even was that, Scott?” Sparrow challenged, moving up the stairs with unwavering purpose. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in weeks. What have you been doing while sneaking about? Setting up your mushrooms even down here, I see. Well, I won’t stand for it. This is our home!”

“I only see one of you,” Smajor retorted. “And what are you talking about? I’ve been scouting this place for a while and there hasn’t been anyone else around.” He took a step back, then tried to subtly look for the mushroom closest to Sparrow that he could try using to yeet the intruder away if necessary. He didn’t like the intense look in Sparrow’s sculk-altered eyes.

“All of the Deep Dark is our home,” Sparrow insisted. “All of the Ancient Cities are ours. I didn’t start living in this one, but it is part of our network! You have no right to be infesting this place with your overworld fungus!”

“Sparrow,” Smajor said dryly, “I think you’re the one who is infested. You’ve got a little something growing on your cheek, there. And your neck. And both hands. Might want to check your eyes, too. Have you looked at your reflection lately?”

“Don’t mock us, Scott!!”

“Mock who? You’re still the only one I see.” Smajor let a tiny smile slip onto his face. None of these fools even realized their friends had been replaced.

“The sculk, Scott!!” Sparrow’s volume increased along with the distortion in his voice. “We’re not going to stand for being stifled any longer! They told me something was going on in this city! They told me foreign soil had been placed and it was trying to consume them! But we’re stronger than you think. Did you really expect to transform the whole of the Deep Dark into mycelium? Don’t you have enough places to spread your inferior children?”

“Now, now, Sparrow. Mushrooms grow best in low light, damp environments. Surely we can share? You and I are basically relatives.”

Sparrow drew back as if stung. “You’re nothing like us!” He went still for a moment, then a smile of his own crossed his face. “But maybe I can make you like us.”

Smajor raised an eyebrow in doubt over whatever that would entail. He reconsidered two seconds later, however, when Sparrow’s body dissolved into a cloud of sculk spores and rushed at the fungal mage’s face. He flailed, attempting to bat them away, but as they swarmed close to his nose and mouth he inevitably inhaled some of them.

Some then led to all of them as the first ones took control of his body, the spores seeming to flood his brain. Smajor panicked – but only over the possibility that Sparrow might somehow get access to his memories and learn that he wasn’t the real Scott of this world.

He wasn’t sure why he should care about that. If anything, maybe it would scare Sparrow when he learned just who, exactly, he was dealing with.

Smajor let Sparrow walk his body down the stairs, an obvious choice to get Smajor away from the portal. The fungal mage’s powers were temporarily dampened by the possession, but Smajor was very accustomed to being confined inside his own head without any other stimulation – aside from rolling a clock across the floor of an obsidian-lined cell over and over again. Sparrow hadn’t cut off his mental connection to his mana yet, only his ability to manipulate fungus spores.

“I can make you leave,” Sparrow’s voice inside his head threatened. “I can make you walk to a desert, where it’s all blinding light and drought. I can make you walk into an abandoned corner of the Nether and strand you there. I can do whatever I want with you! All I have to do is leave you on the brink of death, and then you’ll become something else that has no power over fungus! What do you say to that?”

Smajor regained control of his mouth muscles, which he used to smirk. Maybe Sparrow couldn’t see the expression for himself, but he might be able to feel it. “Actually, I have a neat trick for just such an occasion! Watch this – and by that I mean you might want to leave my body.” He instantly expelled all of his mana at once, causing every mushroom in a three-meter radius to sprout up to gigantic height. Mycelium spread across the floor to the same distance.

The cloud of spores that was Sparrow ejected itself just before Smajor dropped lifelessly to the ground. Sparrow reformed himself and stared down in shock. His voice came out normal and trembling. “S-Scott? Scott??” No response came from the fungal mage. “W-Why would he do that? I – I thought he was trying to accomplish something here. He – He fought off all the other attempts to stop him, right? That’s why I had to come down here…”

Sparrow clutched at his head. His voice became distorted again. “It doesn’t matter – he doesn’t matter! If that was his choice to avoid being controlled, then so be it! Now we can clean up this mess in peace.” He walked toward the nearest tall mushroom and directed a strand of sculk vein to begin spiraling its way up the stem, corrupting it as it went.

A polite cough behind him made him turn. Sparrow was unbothered; they could easily deal with the intruder regardless of what he had become—

The fungal mage stood up, looking exactly the same. The smirk was back on his face. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m unkillable. What about you, Sparrow? How many lives do you have?”

~*~

Myth hated to admit it but this new Warden was a lot tougher than the others. Each time it swung around it left gouges in the walls on both sides, leaving the floor littered with even more debris. Ghast-sage had rustled up enough power to finish incinerating the new patches of sculk that had cropped up, but afterward Scott had to teleport him to safety.

After a few minutes Scott had returned to teleport very short distances, acting as bait to keep the mutated Warden busy by warping away just as it tried to grab him. Hermes was still doing likewise, although now his zipping through the air was accompanied by zapping the Warden with lightning strikes. Myth was flying low to the ground back and forth around its legs and launching fireballs into its lower body to try to bring it down a level.

When it finally dropped to its knees and slammed two of its arms against the ground to stay up so it could fend off its attackers, Myth allowed a smug smile of victory. Well, at least it wasn’t completely invincible. He did wish they had another offensive hitter available… He swooped around to where Hermes was taking a quick breather. “Hey! Can you see if The Protector is able to use any of his spells yet? They’ll probably be more effective on this thing than the guy we fought that one time – he’ll know what I’m taking about!”

“The Pro— oh, my dad? A-Are you sure you want me to leave you to fight alone?”

“I can handle it,” Myth assured him. He began to look away. “Where’s Scott? Maybe he can get you there—”

He abruptly shoved Hermes hard in the chest, sending the young man stumbling to the side—

And took the brunt of the mutated Warden’s angled sonic shriek himself. It flung Myth into the wall, where he slumped down gulping for breath, his midsection pressed concave. Half a second passed then his body burst into blue-white flames. His silhouette stood up within the fire, then the flames retreated to limn his arms, shoulders, and wings.

Another sonic blast followed. Myth fell back a step but he was too freshly reborn to be taken down so soon.

Hermes launched into the air, trying to distract the Warden by striking its antennae with lightning that forked in a continuous circuit among the four. He could tell that his attunement was starting to diverge from the trident’s frequency; he needed more time where he wasn’t using it. He pinched his gold earring then summoned his reserves to try for a more powerful strike – only to come to a stop as the Warden directed another shriek at Myth.

The phoenix’s revived strength didn’t hold this time. He felt the wind get knocked out of him just as he was releasing a fireball made of the flames that had been clinging to him mere seconds ago. Myth’s field of vision narrowed. Maybe he had taken another hit too soon after reviving? His energy seemed to drain out of him. He looked down at his hands in horror, unable to summon more fire to his fingertips.

The Warden threw its heads back and roared, rattling Myth to the bone. He looked around frantically for a path of escape. The fallen bits of wall appeared to block any avenue past the Warden. His vision darkened further; he couldn’t see any trace of Hermes or Scott, no flashes of lightning or bursts of teleportation sparkles.

Myth berated himself over how he should have asked The Protector sooner about lending some spells. Even a defensive one would be helpful right now. All he could do was drop to his knees and stubbornly face down the Warden while bracing himself for a final blow, whether it be another shriek or a swipe of the Warden’s massive claws as it raised two arms above him.

He was unsure of which it was, but flames engulfed his body once again. As he regained awareness he realized it felt different this time, like it was actually burning him this time.

And then…

And then…

His orange feathers were burned away, leaving behind smokey-grey ones. The concept of control over fire fled his mind. It was replaced by a different power that raced through his veins. It was familiar to him and yet long, long removed from the line of abilities that he had been through.

The second in that line.

He spared a single rasping breath to look down at his hands again. They had taken on a bony look – but he still felt strong enough. He briefly clenched his fists then threw himself at the Warden, hands now held outward with fingers poised like talons ready to latch onto prey.

Time to find out if these wither powers still worked like he remembered.

If he could cause an entire church to decay, surely he could do some serious damage to a giant Warden. Myth uttered a loud sound similar to an inverted breath, bringing chills to whoever heard; they were all aware of which creature made that sound.

Or, at least it brought chills to four of them. For Sausage, who had been cautiously but steadily approaching the Warden-riddled battleground, perked up. He didn’t know how one of his old allies would have even gotten there because he was fairly certain he hadn’t created a new pocket reality to even have a Deep Dark, but any help would be appreciated.

However, it was not the robed figure of his ally The Wither of Mythland who was attacking the mutated Warden. It was someone with the appearance of a wither, pale eyes flashing between bright blue and white, with a somewhat skeletal visage but with the stature and aura of someone accustomed to being a powerhouse, unlike The Wither’s reserved manner.

Sausage noted the dark grey wings plus now equally dark grey hair, then caught a glimpse of the singed clothes and face as the figure took to the air, and realized it was Myth. The sight made him mumble, “Is that what happens when a phoenix burns out?” He gripped the Staff of Sanctuary tightly, then glanced around for the others.

To his left Scott and the Ghast Mage, holding each other up, came limping out of a cloud of billowing dust stirred up by the Warden’s wildly swinging attempts to hit Myth as he swooped around both heads, his arms outstretched to either side to try to snag an antenna on his way. Hermes wasn’t immediately visible, which made Sausage worry. A brief yet dim flash of lightning sparked out of a dust cloud that was raining down from one of the walls. A shadow beyond it was revealed when Myth flew past and momentarily cleared the air with his wings.

Sausage recognized the sign of his son’s power waning regardless of trident, but he knew his own capabilities were better spent helping the other two. He whispered a spell that lifted Scott and Ghast-sage off their feet and pulled them toward him into the safety of cover provided by one of the larger fallen pieces of wall. They smiled gratefully.

Sausage then handed Scott another bundle of food while in exchange offering to help the Ghast Mage stand. “That’s the last of it. Chew wisely.” Scott nodded. He quickly downed a cold empanada and saved the rest. The three then directed their attention to the ongoing battle.

The Warden was now short one antenna on each head as well as missing one arm. There was no sign of the appendages, but an ashen gray coating was slowly spreading from the shoulder portion on the Warden’s right side where the arm would have been. No blood or bone was visible, only the creeping decay.

“Ah. Hmm,” Sausage whispered. Might as well not draw the Warden’s attention their way by talking at normal volume. “I came back to help but, uh, I’m pretty sure he’s got this.”

They watched another arm crumble away into drifting ash. Ghast-sage quietly cleared his throat. “You know, I used to worry that my Ghast side made me seem like some kind of monster. I don’t really think that anymore after seeing these two.”

“Hmm.” Sausage uttered the thoughtful sound again. However, this time his tone held disappointment.

The Ghast Mage was oblivious. “I guess that’s wither powers at work. Good thing he’s on our side! Sheesh!”

Scott leaned to say to both of them, “One question. How did he go from a phoenix to a wither? He basically just kept rising from his own ashes from what I saw – figuratively speaking, since he didn’t, like, literally become ashes?”

“But the Warden is,” Sausage and the Ghast Mage pointed out at the same time, their voices blending together.

Scott stared. “Okaaaay. That sounded incredibly weird. Please try not to do that ever again.”

They seemed about to apologize at the same time, too, but then looked at each other and then merely nodded at Scott. The transporter smiled sheepishly back at them before returning his attention to the fight between Myth, the mutated Warden, and occasional small forks of lightning from Hermes.

. Myth attacked the Warden with gusto, yet without the madness that had gripped him when he had previously been a wither. He hadn’t wasted much time wondering why, but maybe it was only because neither Smajor nor the shining seraph were in front of him.

Pieces of the Warden continued to decay like crushed fungus but instead of emitting spores, it was turning into dry dust. It mostly roared and ineffectually flailed its top right remaining arm. Myth allowed himself the high hope that having two heads interfered with its ability to produce a sonic blast in its current beleaguered state. He had been disappointed when the decay didn’t spread from the antennae to either head. He supposed that would have just been too easy.

Right after he landed to its useless left side to take a momentary break, his attention was ensnared by a popping sound coming from high on the Warden’s remaining shoulder. A patch of roiling sculk had appeared there. To Myth’s horror, multiple strands of sculk vein slid out of it and began to form a net – or a bandage – over the damaged cavity beneath it. The glitter of regular sculk bubbled up between the strands.

Myth grimaced. The mutated Warden could regenerate itself.

Of course it wasn’t just going to be that easy.

He needed to figure out how to bring it down before all of its limbs reformed, which would leave it less distracted so it could dish out sonic screams again. As he sought an attack plan he saw the roiling sculk surface on the left side of its chest, oozing toward its damaged shoulders. “Hermes!” Myth called. “Distract it a little longer! I need to—”

The Warden sharply jerked toward Myth’s location; its auditory senses were apparently unhindered by the lack of antennae. As it did so, its intact arm smacked into Hermes, knocking him to the ground. The contact with a solid form as well as the involuntary cry Hermes let out when he met the ground made the Warden turn again.  Hermes struggled back to his feet quick enough, but the Warden’s upper arm was already raising above him to smash him flat.

A greenish-golden dome of transparent light formed from out of the ground to encapsulate Hermes. The Warden’s fist bounced off of it, the sheer force of its own strike causing the creature to totter backward from the recoil. Sausage’s voice carried over the distance. “¡¡CORRE CORRE CORRE!! ¡¡ESE CABRÓN TE VA A MATAR!!”

An unexpected pang of panic shot through Myth’s chest. He needed to take this Warden down now. He frantically racked his brain for a way to boost his powers. He ran into a road block of memories tainted by madness; his instincts kept circling back to causing decay. Destroying from the outside. Bring it down, bring it all down, collapse the whole church onto the head of the thieving angel—

He forcibly gasped out loud to break himself from the soul-deep scar of that moment. He couldn’t rely on his own experience of being a wither anymore. But… there were other memories he could attempt to access. Not his. Ones exchanged by accident without his permission. Yet maybe, just a glimpse of events in a parallel life—

He mentally shifted his own perception aside, allowing his mind to relive the ones experienced by his opposite, the shining seraph, who selfishly took a glance into Myth’s soul and memories all just to locate a portal.

Myth’s eyes turned completely white. He launched himself directly at the Warden’s chest, hands held out with palms flat rather than curling his fingers to grab. He had no idea how this was going to feel, or what effect it would have on him – dread had accompanied the borrowed memories, but the process of extracting soul energy was burned into them.

And a Warden’s open chest showcased quite a large number of souls.

Myth shoved his palms directly into the ribcage cavity. He had no intention of pulling them out to eat them, instead focusing on absorbing their energy into his skin much like he could do with fire as a phoenix, and as a blazeborn, and as an angel before his fall. That memory of his own incited his rage. He let out the bone-chilling sound of a newly formed wither again, then began to both exude his power of decay and draw the soul energy into himself, creating a loop that ramped up the speed of the decay. The Warden roared—

The roar abruptly cut off as the light within its chest went out. The behemoth collapsed, its body rapidly overtaken by the decay, leaving it to crumble in on itself and leaving Myth to stand over the pile of dust, suffused by the glow from the energy he was still in the process of absorbing. The shapes of forlorn souls writhed throughout this glow, making him a grim figure, indeed.

The others were hesitant to approach. Hermes was still lying under the protective shield, although he did stare through it at Myth in astonishment. The phoenix-turned-wither calmly pivoted toward the larger group, lowering his arms to his sides to show that he hadn’t lost his mind and wasn’t going to pull out their souls next. The ghostly forms orbiting around him disappeared one by one, furtively being absorbed into his palms when they passed behind him. He had decided this was a less morbid way than capturing them two at a time in each hand and eating them to get them out of the way faster.

It was only after all of the souls were gone that Ghast-sage approached with a companionable grin. “Well, if we weren’t related by fire before, we sure are brothers in Nether now! That was awesome! You took that thing down like it was nothing!” He attempted to clap Myth on the shoulder in congratulations and perhaps also to show he didn’t fear the other, but Myth stepped back with a nervous look. The Ghast Mage yanked his hand away. “Oh, sorry! I should have asked first if, um, touching you might make me turn into dust or get my soul sucked out! Uh, no offense.”

Myth shook his head. His hands clenched into tight fights, trembling slightly even though he knew what he said next was the truth. A lingering remembered fear that wasn’t his own echoed through his head. “I have to be actively using these powers that way, and it’s only if I touch something. It’s safe to touch me. …I just… don’t…”

“Sorry sorry sorry,” the Ghast Mage blubbered. “Let me, ah, say thank you instead! And let’s get out of here before anything else shows up to kill us!”

Myth nodded. He went about searching for a stable part of the wall they had been traversing, passing Sausage as he dispelled the shield and lent Hermes a supportive arm. Ghast-sage retrieved Rusty, then trailed after Myth until an ideal section was found. Scott and Hermes then worked together again to get everyone onto the top of the wall.

This time Myth accepted the transporter’s help.

.

The rest of their journey proceeded without issue. Myth kept folding his wings in tightly, perhaps subconsciously bothered by the sight of them and what they meant for him going forward, only to loosen them a moment later either in anticipation of maintaining his balance or of flying ahead to confirm that they were going the correct way. He was glad that at least he still had feathers this time and actual flight rather than bare wing bones and the limited hovering capabilities of a real wither.

On his final glide he was able to spy the cluster of portals. He circled a few times, pointing downwards to signal the others that he had found their destination, then he perched on the wall nearest to the best spot to get down from. There seemed to be fewer portals than he remembered, though many still hung at different heights and overlapped in front of others by just enough margin that someone could pass between their positions. Maybe his warning to the Superhero had paid off, and word was getting around the multiverse somehow, leading to the portals on the other side to be destroyed.

A much more dismal realization came to haunt him: maybe the worlds on the other side of those missing portals had been destroyed. How would his warning have spread, anyway? The thought ate at him as he checked if the others were close to reaching him, it continued to do so as he glided down to the ground alone.

He had an idea on how to rectify that situation, which he would keep to himself for the time being. He switched his focus to the portals that were still there, attempting to orient himself among them. It took some deliberation because he couldn’t recall which of the missing portals had overlapped in what positions near others. He knew, of course, that the shining seraph had utilized the soul energy of an additional person to get attuned to the matching portal’s energy… but he was on his own to find his.

Not that he had plans to leave Smajor where he was. This was just for the sake of reference.

Really, it was.

As Scott appeared in a flurry of orange particles to create his anchor point then immediately disappeared to begin ferrying the others down, Myth managed to find the best angle to see two portals that lined up perfectly across from each other. This didn’t guarantee that one of them led back to his world; if he and the shining seraph were opposites of each other, it was possible that there were other sets of Mythical Sausages who had opposite fates. He amused himself with the thought of the Superhero clashing with a villainous version of himself.

While Scott was off retrieving the last person – Sausage – Hermes drifted down by himself while holding the Staff of Sanctuary, the trident stashed at his back again. He leaned on the Staff once his feet touched the floor. He smiled wearily at Myth then gazed around in wonder at the cluster of portals. Myth held a hand out to the young man. “I need to test something.” Hermes offered the Staff on the assumption Myth wanted it back, but the phoenix-turned-wither shook his head. “No. Your hand.” Myth did realize that the Staff would probably serve the same purpose, but there was another reason for the test.

Hermes complied, shifting the Staff to lean on it with one hand while grasping Myth’s hand with the other. Myth mentally braced himself—

But there was no need. He didn’t experience a flood of memories being exchanged. Rather, he saw a solid gold sphere at the young man’s core. It was ringed by orbiting lines that were colored in two different shades of green, intersecting each other diagonally. An occasional spark of purple lightning dancing along each ring in turn.

With eyes glowing white, Myth peered around at the portals. One to his right, suspended about two meters off the ground, had green light sparkling within the gemstones the same shade as one of the rings around Hermes’ soul. Myth released the young man’s hand and reached to touch the Staff. He glanced at the portal again; now the light in the gemstones was the other shade of green.

When Myth let go of the Staff the light faded out. He pointed at the identified portal. “Stand over there. That one goes to your world.”

“How can you tell?” Hermes asked curiously as he walked over to it.

“It matches your soul.” Myth turned away before Hermes could ask anything else. He strode over to where Scott, Sausage, and the Ghast Mage were staring agog at all the portals. The last was holding Rusty to keep him from wandering off. Myth eyed Sausage for a moment. He didn’t need a third confirmation, and he was reluctant to touch the Protector using his soul-viewing power anyway, but an urge itched at the back of his mind.

Maybe that same urge is what had driven the shining seraph to grab Myth’s hand and steal a glance into his soul beyond just using the connection to identify a portal.

Myth waved for Sausage to follow him partway to where Hermes stood. Then he took a breath. “I just… want to doublecheck. If Hermes and the Staff both have celestial origins, I might not be right.” He steeled himself, then held a hand out to Sausage.

When the Protector accepted, it was not his soul that stunned Myth but the fact that two portals resonated with Sausage’s energy. The expected one matched exactly the same as with Hermes and the Staff, but another – directly vertical above it – also stood out, yet in a horrifically different way. All of the gemstones were broken, lifeless; what had drawn Myth’s gaze to it in the first place was the stuttering magenta lightning that flashed erratically along the frame, bringing emphasis to the red substance filling cracks in the stone holding the shattered gemstones.

Myth had the gut-wrenching feeling that this was what a portal that led to a destroyed reality looked like.

He made himself blink the power away, then let go of Sausage to gesture at Hermes. “Uh, yeah, still the same. Go over there. And I guess now we see if I, uh, locate a different one when I check with them.”

Sausage nodded, although Myth didn’t see the motion since he had already turned to hurry over to the other three. He also didn’t see the rueful expression on Sausage’s face as he peered upward, having noticed Myth’s head tilting when he became aware of the desolate portal.

Oblivious that he had actually given away his shock but needing to process the unsettling revelation, Myth pushed a reluctant sigh out of his lungs before regarding Scott, Ghast-sage, and Rusty. He couldn’t be sure if a soul connection would work on Rusty. He didn’t want to see the soul of someone who resembled Smajor. That left the Ghast Mage, along with another possible risk of sharing memories. He had already assumed that Sausage’s powers had prevented him from finding out anything else about that second portal.

Myth’s gaze fell on Ghast-sage’s vambrace with its opaque green crystal. The metal was tarnished by burns in a few places but intact otherwise. He wondered if it really did have any other significance beyond a piece of armor.c

“What’s wrong with you?!”

Rusty’s exclamation broke Myth from his thoughts. Out went his hand toward the Ghast Mage. “Give me your hand for a second.”

Ghast-sage adjusted Rusty so he was resting on his hip, freeing up an arm. He was warier than Hermes had been, but then he carefully clasped Myth’s hand. He gasped as a jolt shot through his mind.

Rusty leaned to place a hand over theirs.

Myth pushed away an invading mirrored memory of stumbling out of a Nether portal into the unfamiliar overworld and turned his once-again glowing eyes to the assortment of portals. Due to a blank portal that happened to be situated at the exact inconvenient angle to block it from where they stood, he almost missed the dim series of six colors that oscillated over the surface of the gemstones. It was only when Myth began walking – Ghast Mage in tow – to have a better view that he caught the shimmer of the lights.

“There,” he muttered, letting go of Ghast-sage to use that hand to point at the portal. It was a slight distance to the right of where Hermes and Sausage stood.

“Okay,” Rusty responded, holding onto the front of the Ghast Mage’s robes while his creator stood dumbfounded, apparently processing the shared experience now rattling around his mind.

It was Scott who asked, “‘There’, what?”

“Your portal home,” Myth clarified.

“How do you know for sure?” Scott asked next. He took Ghast-sage by the elbow to steer him toward the indicated spot.

“Wither’s intuition. …I can match soul energy to the world it came from by touching someone. That’s how the other me I met here found the way out.”

Seeing that a major conversation might be about to get underway, Sausage cast a spell that outlined the closer of his portals with golden light, then he and Hermes headed over to listen.

“About that…” Scott decided to go forward with the very question he had been pondering earlier. “How or even why did you turn into a wither? And what were you doing to the Warden that didn’t look like normal withering?”

Myth didn’t know if this was the best time to divulge the labyrinth’s secret influence but there was no way to guess what they might walk into on the other side of the portal where Smajor could be waiting. “This place can unlock someone’s past abilities. It didn’t happen to me last time, but it did happen to the version of me and you that I met here. They came in with one set of powers each and during our fight with them, they regained all the ones they had before. … I’ve been a wither before, but I’ve been over two dozen things since then. I think they only had three or four at that point in their timeline.”

“Wait, back up,” Scott held his hands out in a halting gesture. “From the sound of things, I thought it was you and them fighting Smajor?”

“Smajor and I were both very disagreeable at the time and didn’t trust our doubles. Or, well, I didn’t trust them. Judging by those first holes in the walls we came across, Smajor – predictably – must have attacked my double thinking it was me. They were both gravitals at the time, so it’s no wonder they were leaving craters after throwing each other into the floor and through walls. All that mess you saw back there, where we all met up – that was mostly done by me and Smajor. I was a blazeborn back then, so all I did was burn stuff.

In a tone trying to bring some levity Sausage commented, “You’ve got a theme going on with that, huh?”

“I’ve been the opposite a few times, just so you know,” Myth informed him. “Where I’m from, what you become next after you die is completely random. Except for the time right after we left the labyrinth and Smajor killed me the first chance he got. I became a seraph that time. I… let the power go to my head, because I started as a guardian angel, and it was like the ultimate promotion, so I went ahead dishing out what I thought was appropriate retribution.” Myth was rambling now, the full story pouring out of him. His brain felt like a swirl of emotions that he couldn’t contain; it soon dawned on him that it might have something to do with the vast variety of souls he had absorbed.

He made no effort to stop the tide of words.

~*~

To Be Concluded in [ Chapter Six + Epilogue ]

~*~*~

Translations:

“¡¡CORRE CORRE CORRE!! ¡¡ESE CABRÓN TE VA A MATAR!!” - “RUN RUN RUN! THAT BASTARD IS GOING TO KILL YOU!!”

[lunaryarn]

Multi-SMP Fanfic: Which Fate's Fairest To Us All - Ch 2

Multi-SMP Fanfic: Which Fate’s Fairest To Us All

Afterlife SMP, New Life SMP and Empires SMP S2 crossover combo!!! I'm back with more MythicalSausage meets MythicalSausage shenanigans!

Characters: Mythical Sausage (1st), Rusty the Copper Golem, PearlescentMoon, Scott Smajor (1st), Mythical Sausage (2nd), Hermes, Mythical Sausage (3rd), Scott Smajor (2nd), Rocky the Goblin, and a couple of briefly mentioned cameos at the end!

WARNINGS: Character death (but they get better because Afterlife/New Life rules are in play), body horror

Chapter Summary: Sausage and Hermes enter the strange portal in the Ancient City. Meanwhile, Myth needs to be convinced to use the one Smajor leads him to. Later, Hermes finds himself alone, but not for long; he picks up a new friend, and soon after meets another version of his father, who in turn has found a relic left in the labyrinth from an entirely different universe…

Sequel to Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall and follows sometime after the events of Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All (“sometime” being relative to how much time passes in each universe)

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Chapter One ]

Chapter Two

Regardless of having tamed Dolores, Sausage hadn’t found a way to establish a rapport with Wardens in the wild despite a few attempts, so he and Hermes stuck to careful movements and whispers when they reached their destination.

Hermes absently squeezed the straps of his backpack as he stared up at the portal. “This thing is always so intimidating up close. I’ve always wondered why it’s so big. It’s like something made to accommodate Ghasts if they flew in and out of portals regularly. Or maybe the Deep Dark equivalent of a Ghast. Can you imagine what a sculk-infested Ghast would look like? …Uh-oh… That just made me think of Ghasts that produce a sonic shriek like a Warden. They could level cities doing that. Maybe that’s what happened to the people who used to live here…”

Sausage hummed in agreement, amused by how his son had apparently picked up his penchant for rambling off a stream of conscience, although at the moment Sausage was more focused on comparing the gemstone in the Staff with the ones in the portal frame – yet avoiding holding the Staff too close. He had begun to wonder what other powers Sanctuary’s magic had imbued the Staff with. He murmured out loud, “They’re definitely the same. But these are… pulsing with energy. I never paid that much attention to them before to notice that, but I was kinda busy watching out for Wardens most of the time, eh-heh.”

Hermes glanced over at him. “Maybe because they’re part of what activates the portal, while that one was only meant to point us in the right direction?”

“Maybe… But this portal itself isn’t active right now. I don’t feel any trans-dimensional energy coming from it. Only from the gemstones.” Sausage continued to scrutinize the gems as well as the stone they were embedded into.

Hermes curiously studied his father instead of joining the portal examination. “I don’t often see you being this serious.”

“All the times I’ve been called on for Guardian of Reality duties have always been dire. I have to keep track of any detail that might be important for stabilizing whatever is wrong in the multiverse. Make note of that for your training, by the way.”

Hermes mimed writing on paper. “Got it, Dad.”

Sausage took a deep breath then let it out in a pensive exhale. “All right. Time to test my first theory.” He slowly lowered the crook of the Staff toward the empty air above the bottom frame of the portal. A bright turquoise spark leapt from the Staff to the surrounding gemstones, creating a chain of sparks along the sides that continued across the top until halting at a spot near the middle.

Sausage squinted up at it. Hermes quietly scraped the heel of his right sandal against the floor, triggering the godly-blessed wings on the sides of both sandals, and took flight to make a closer inspection. “There’s one missing,” Hermes reported.

“Right,” Sausage muttered. He glanced at the crook of the Staff, then drew it away from the portal and gingerly touched the gemstone in it. “I get the sense we’ll be needing this, so I don’t think we’re meant to remove it and place it into the frame.”

Hermes studied the indentation where a gemstone would have been, then hovered just above Sausage and held out his hand. “Let me try something.”

Sausage considered for a moment, trying to discern Hermes’ plan without asking, but handed him the Staff anyway. Hermes returned to the top of the portal and very precisely angled the crook so that the gemstone could be pressed into the matching indentation.

There was no audible sound like a Nether or End portal would make, but they both felt a pulse ripple through the air. Small, pale blue particles began to waft from the portal. Hermes cautiously drew the Staff away from the frame. The portal remained active. The gemstone remained in the Staff.

“Good work,” Sausage complimented with a smile. “The official father-son team sets off to protect all of reality! Stay close to me once we’re on the other side. Oh, and let’s get that wool ready, just in case there’s more sculk sensors wherever this takes us!”

~*~

Myth saw right away what could potentially be a trap for him in the Ancient City that Smajor had led him to. The only thing stopping him from releasing a fireball or growling any louder was the risk of Wardens. “If you think I’m setting one foot closer to that portal—!”

“It’s to hold back the sculk vein!” Smajor hissed in response. They had a glaring contest as Myth pointed to the mycelium that lined the area around the base of the portal. “It’s been spreading like crazy every time I come down here to try to think of an approach to this rescue mission! That isn’t normal! Something is wrong with the sculk in this world. It’s a type of fungus, but one I can’t commune with.”

Myth peered around at both the sculk and sculk vein that was on the other side of the supposed barrier of mycelium. Although he couldn’t put his finger on it, he realized Smajor wasn’t lying. “So, how do you want to approach this? Do we enter at the same time and try to find each other first, or do we use that as an automatic ‘split up to cover more ground’ tactic and look for them?”

“The second one. I mean, if we find each other on the way, great, but…” Smajor trailed off as a thought occurred to him. He then sighed in resignation. “I’m putting my trust in you to not leave me in there if you find both of them before you run into me.”

The corners of Myth’s mouth curled upward. “I don’t think I can make that promise.”

Smajor stared blankly at him. “I guess that’s fair. Just keep in mind that when I do find the exit, I might just go through the first portal I find.”

The mirth evaporated from Myth’s face. “No, all four of us get out, because after that we need to sort out what happens to us extras.”

“Good. Yes. Exactly. Now, one idea I had was—” Smajor abruptly went still, only his eyes moving as he looked at something over Myth’s left shoulder. Then he pointed and hissed, “There! See! The sculk vein!”

Myth frowned with mistrust again, but turned his head a little to try to glimpse it from the corner of his eye. But he quickly – and accusingly – darted his gaze back to Smajor. The fungal mage continued to point. Myth reluctantly turned further around to get a real look.

He then saw several strands of sculk vein actively flailing around the side of the portal frame as if intending to get purchase on the front of it and reach in.

Smajor stepped past Myth and swiped his hand upward through the air. The mycelium at the base of the portal surged up over the deepslate beside the frame, converting it fully within seconds. The sculk vein shriveled away and collapsed into dried up clumps of blue-black, the spots of glowing turquoise extinguished.

Smajor stifled a gasp, swaying, but kept his feet firmly on the line of mycelium. “S-See… Th-That’s… Oh, going that fast really eats up my mana…” He took a moment to catch his breath. “I noticed it creeping toward the portal more and more each time, and thought it was merely some random zombies falling victim to the Warden, but then I realized it was definitely moving toward the portal on its own. You saw it… That’s not how sculk vein spreads.”

He paused to allow Myth to affirm the observation, but the phoenix only stared back stone-faced. Smajor continued,  “So, I did what I could to slow it down. I can’t convert whatever the frame is made of, but by backing up the natural spread of mycelium with a boost of my own power, I can convert types of stone with it.”

“And am I to believe that you aren’t actually controlling the sculk vein because it doesn’t spread on its own, and it is a type of fungus?”

Smajor sighed. “I know you’re never going to fully trust me ever again, but can you at least see the bigger picture – that there’s a bigger threat? Maybe we were sent here, specifically, to bring an outside perspective and save this world from what others don’t see happening right underneath them. Since, you know, we spent so much quality time around sculk, right underneath everything in our world.”

“Don’t tell me you’re homesick.” Myth rolled his eyes, then gave a half-hearted smirk. “Do you miss your cell? You were safe in there from the sculk, oddly enough.”

Smajor scowled at him. “I think you let yourself get infected with it. You seemed hell-bent on accepting some kind of punishment for becoming a cursed angel—”

Spits of flame flared off of Myth’s body. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the—”

“Shhh!!” Smajor tried to hush the phoenix before looking around in a panic. “Enough!” he then whispered in a harsh tone. “Too much talking. It knows we’re here. I can feel some new vibrations.”

Myth doubted this claim, yet he did go silent to listen for himself. He then noticed for the first time that there weren’t even any sensors or shriekers in the immediate area. He did, however, pick up on an approaching sound that was quite familiar to him, but likely not to Smajor, so he uttered a quiet laugh and turned toward the staircase that led up to where they stood.

The trundling footsteps were a far cry from the stomping of a Warden, or even of the taller, iron cousins of the copper construct that crested the edge of the platform. Myth shook his head with a mild scowl before whispering, “Rusty, you shouldn’t have followed me down here. You would be safer at home with your buttons to keep you busy.”

Intuitively enough, Rusty also kept his voice down. “Are you sure about this?”

Myth’s expression became puzzled; he was unable to discern the meaning behind the word choice this time. He decided to ask. “Are you saying that because you were worried about me, or do you think it’s not safe at home?”

Rusty didn’t get a chance to reply. A sudden surge of sculk vein appeared over Smajor’s layers of mycelium, strands of it even grabbing at Myth’s feathers and trying to tangle around his legs – as well as around Rusty. Myth grabbed the little copper golem and held him aloft while directing flames from the bottom of his wings to try to burn it off – or at least discourage it from trying to grasp at more of his feathers.

Smajor planted his stance wide on the mycelium at his own feet, now the only section remaining free of sculk vein. He made a motion with both hands like if he was pulling on a rope. The sculk vein was yanked from Myth’s wings and legs. “Go!! I’ll hold it back! Find them! I can’t do this alone! I’ll go back in the cell when we get back to our world, if that’s what you want!”

Myth glanced at the portal. Yet then he narrowed his eyes at Smajor once again. “You were able to use power over that sculk vein. If I go without you, that leaves you to run free in this world. You were quick to take on vampire powers again – maybe that renewed your thirst for world conquest, and with this fungal power you could also reshape the world any way you want! And I’m the only one who knows how much of a threat you are!”

Smajor glared back at Myth bitterly. “So smart, thinking you figured it out. I wish you remembered the time when I was a vampire and you were a wither, and we worked together. Even if it didn’t last long. Even if everything went to hell for us after that. Even if I still hate you and want nothing to do with you ever again. But we keep getting pulled back to each other.” He was beginning to look visibly haggard from the effort of fighting the sculk vein with his magic.

Smajor continued, “Gods, but I would have loved nothing more than to go to the opposite side of this planet and never see you again. But I couldn’t. The question of my double was eating at me. Something kept burrowing into my brain, like the fungus itself, like spores infecting my thoughts to turn them toward wondering why. Why did I end up here? Why this world? Why did I become this?”

He tried to gesture to himself, but the drain on his mana made it too painful to do more than spread his fingers. He winced. “…And why, when I died, did I come right back to life the same? If you want to witness that, then go ahead. I’m about to die from overexerting my mana. But for those precious seconds that I’m unconscious until I revive, the sculk will overrun you and your little friend. You can make a choice, Myth – or I can make it for you!”

Smajor’s face twisted in agony as he forced his left hand to move upward. Myth felt the ground shift under his feet. First it turned into mycelium, then a small red mushroom grew – and then it abruptly sprang up into a full grown, tree-sized mushroom, flinging Myth upward and at just enough of an angle to throw him and Rusty into the portal.

The last thing Myth saw before the portal’s magic swept him away was Smajor collapsing to the ground. The phoenix’s thoughts on the matter clung to the question of whether it was all an act or not, but then the world turned into swirls of blue-black and he resigned himself to merely hoping that Rusty didn’t count as a flesh-and-blood entity so they wouldn’t get separated.

~*~

“Dad? Dad??” Hermes called out in confusion. He knew he should keep his voice down in this strange, dimly-lit place, but having landed on the other side of the portal only to find himself alone made him worry.

In fact, he didn’t even see the portal he would have exited from. The solid wall at his back was devoid of any markings or indication that it even was where he had exited from. Hermes gazed upward, wondering if he had fallen; the wall was certainly tall enough for him to be unable to see if a matching portal was on top of it. His connection to the skies could have been what saved him from a splattery fate on the floor, but his human father wasn’t going to be as fortunate.

Hermes listened, but didn’t hear Sausage calling from elsewhere. He scuffed his heel against the ground and began an attempt to fly high enough to get a glimpse of what might be above.

He saw no colors except for dim blue-black. He spotted a few drifting particles, but they were everywhere, rather than concentrated near a portal. And the top of the wall still kept stretching upward… Hermes set his face in determination and let some demi-god power flow, his eyes glowing slightly as he summoned a boost to get higher. He couldn’t maintain it in a place like this, with apparently no atmospheric currents to grab hold of – only an oppressive, unseeable ceiling somewhere even higher up above – but he did clear the top of the wall before the boost ran out.

Hermes’ eyes widened in shock. Dismay flooded his stomach.

A gigantic labyrinth surrounded him on all sides with uninterrupted lines of the same towering, taupe walls disappearing into the distance. A split-second reflex had him lunging forward to grab the edge of the wall just as he began to lose altitude. He pulled himself onto it and huffed for breath, bent over from the brief adrenaline rush caused by what appeared to be an insurmountable task.

This was no time to feel overwhelmed. It was time to plan.

He already had the advantage of being able to view the place from on top of it. He would have no trouble jumping over the gaps between walls. He could leave a trail of markers to keep track of where he had been. Even though the ground was far away, his eyesight was godly; he was confident he would be able to spot his father below as he searched.

What did worry him was how Sausage might hold up in the meantime. Would he be worried about his son despite Hermes’ experience visiting other realities? Would being in a place like this raise concerns about Hermes’ ability to navigate, or would Sausage be struggling to fathom the size of the walls while worrying about tracking his supplies, or…

Hermes’ consolation was that his father would at least still have the Staff of Sanctuary to aid him if necessary.

He hastily built a marker using the wool he had brought along, choosing four different colors for each cardinal direction and placing a torch in the middle. He hopped across the nearest surrounding walls to extend the directional indicators, then gently clasped the earring with a pressed flower inside before murmuring, “Magic of Sanctuary, if you can hear me in this place, please guide me to the magic of the Staff.”

He would have chosen the words my father, but it might be better to invoke the prime source in a dimension that felt so closed-off.

Hermes shut his eyes and waited to feel any kind of tug or general whisper of magic. It came across fuzzy, so he wasn’t completely certain, but he turned to his left and opened his eyes to survey the layout of the walls ahead. He then set off, leaping from one top edge to the next, occasionally setting down a correspondingly colored marker while constantly observing the ground below for any sign of his father.

After what could have been half an hour, he began to consider making a tall marker to denote where he had stopped so he could turn back and try a different direction. He happened to take one last glance downward and saw something moving below – the first time he had seen anything at all besides the occasional crumbling statue or dried-up fountain.

Figuring that he could fly back up if it turned out to only be one of this dimension’s inhabitants – whether sapient or not – Hermes leapt from the wall. His sandals slowed his descent as he neared the ground, allowing him to land without a sound.

Hermes pondered the small creature he was now looking at. He was reminded of his robotic sibling, Sunny. But this smaller metallic creation was made completely out of copper and reminded him of an iron golem. “Hello there, coppery little fellah. Are you native to this dimension?”

The little construct didn’t immediately respond. The antenna on top of its head bobbed up and down.

Maybe it was trying to process his words?

Of course, there was no way of telling if it had any of the same capabilities as Sunny. Which would actually put it closer in relation to an iron golem, after all.

Hermes decided to keep talking. Maybe some key word would register. “Did someone happen to send you out to guide me around? I’m trying to find my dad at the moment. We got separated when we entered the portal and I haven’t seen any trace of him in this massive maze yet.”

The copper golem abruptly looked up at him. “What did you say?”

Hermes smiled in delight. “Oh, you can talk! That’s helpful. Do you know the name of this place? I’ve traveled to a few different dimensions, but I’ve never seen this one before. It makes you wonder why or even how someone built a place like this! Maybe it was originally for the Wardens, before they ended up in the Overworld. Reminds me of another legend from ancient history… Huh! Well, they are called Ancient Cities, after all!”

“Are you sure about this?” asked the copper golem.

“Well, they aren’t called Modern Cities, now are they? At least where I’m from. Or did you mean the theory about the Wardens?”

“No.”

Hermes thought back on everything he had just said. “Are you here to guide me?”

“No.”

“Are you native to this dimension?”

“No.”

“Did… you come from the Overworld?” Hermes now realized this might have been one of those times where he should be careful about which details he revealed about himself.

“Yes.”

The young man did a little more thinking. While he was busy with that, the copper golem started to walk off, continuing in the direction it had been heading. Hermes followed for the moment, trying to figure out which standing empire might have the technology to build a sentient construct. His first thought would have been that it was sent by his godly parent for the exact purpose of being a guide – for who else but a deity could have sight over a gigantic labyrinth? – however, copper was an odd choice for a god who favored gold the most.

The goblins were inventive creatures and would certainly have a steady supply of copper that they had mined up, and this fellow was around their height. On the other hand, Cogsmeade was known for technological advancements…

Hermes glanced ahead to see their path was about to take them into an intersection. “Hey, so—” He dashed in front of the copper golem to stop a possible random turn. “—Can you tell me where you’re going? Or if there’s someone you’re looking for? I can scout around a bit.”

“That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I have a few useful powers to help with that. What about you? Any tools or sensors in there telling you where to go?” Hermes was hoping to find out something about this golem.

He was caught off guard by the sadness within the reply. “…No…”

“Oh. I see… I’m getting the feeling that you’re as lost as I am.”

“Yes.”

“Poor little fellah. Here, you know what?” Hermes leaned over to grasp the copper golem under the arms and picked it up. “I’ll carry you for a while, and we can cover ground faster! In fact, if you’re not afraid of heights—”

“What’s wrong with you?!” The golem began to wave its arms around, forcing Hermes to adjust his grip.

“Hey, hey— easy now! I’m just trying to say that I can fly. I can get us on top of the walls to get a better look around! We might spot your person and my dad more quickly!”

The golem immediately stopped struggling. “Okay.”

Hermes gave a relieved smile. He wasn’t in the habit of lugging robots along on flights, and having one flail around at the same time didn’t make the job convenient. He waited, however, until they had passed through the intersection, sparing a glance through the other passageways before sticking to the direction that the golem had been heading, then performed his trick to reach the top of the wall again. This time he aimed to land on top rather than grabbing it like last time.

He almost fell short despite his plan; he felt slightly light-headed afterward, so he made sure to wait a moment before he started walking. After that, he remained on the same wall for several minutes rather than jump across right away. He wanted to ensure he would still be steady on his feet, plus it might help the little golem get used to being carried around.

Hermes couldn’t contain his curiosity for very long, though. “Can you tell me if you have a name?”

“No.”

“Do you even have one?”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t tell me?”

“No.”

Hermes ruminated out loud, “Hmm. Might be one of those things where I need to guess the correct phrase.”

“No,” the golem replied with insistence.

Hermes chuckled. “Mate, you’re an odd one.” He paused to glance toward the ground. He was feeling better now, so he hopped across the tops of the next two walls then glanced down again.

Onward they went, not seeing anything much of interest, until they came across a wall that had partially collapsed in one spot. Hermes leapt down to check out the rubble below – if just to distract himself from his mounting worry about how long it was taking to find his father.

There was the initial pile of rubble but also larger chunks of the wall that looked like they had been flung in both directions down the passageway. Hermes set the copper golem down to scrutinize the scene. “Seems something knocked it down, and either the same thing – or something else – threw parts of it… off? Did someone try to bury something? No way of telling how long it’s been like this. If someone was trying to stop a hostile creature, they might have succeeded, and it freed itself later. I’ll stick with that theory. It sounds more positive. Right, my coppery friend?”

Hermes looked around and saw the golem seemed to be making an investigation of its own by staring at the ground just past one of the larger pieces of the wall. Hermes went over, not seeing anything right away, but it was as good a direction to head as any.

Then he saw the scorch marks on the floor, which was apparently what had caught the copper golem’s attention. “You worried about fire, little fellah?”

“Yes.”

“I could understand why, since you’re made of metal.”

“Are you sure about this?”

Hermes laughed quietly. “As far as I know copper is still considered to be a metal.”

“That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Is it really?” Hermes wondered if the construct considered itself to be made of flesh.

“Yes.”

Hermes was suddenly struck by a realization. “You’ve got limited speech programming!”

“Yes.”

“Well, that will do it, then! I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. Is that why you can’t tell me your name?”

“Yes.”

“I see, I see. I’ll keep it in mind. Should we have a gander at where this trail leads? I have some experience with the aftermath of an environment being burned, so I would say this didn’t happen recently, which means we’re probably safe from whatever caused this. No promises about anything currently around that might be shooting out flames, so we’ll be careful.”

The antenna on the golem’s head bobbed almost in an excited manner, although its reply was a calm, “Okay.”

The line of scorch marks varied as they followed it, as if it had been created by uneven blasts. The largest singe mark marring the ground was at the end of the passageway, which led out into an open area with a fountain in the middle.

There was also plenty of evidence that a massive battle had taken place here at some point in the past.

There were smashed pieces of a giant statue scattered around and some of the surrounding walls had holes in them. Some looked like more partial collapses, but also appearing as if something had been thrown right through them to dent the next wall behind them.

Hermes recognized another type of scorch mark that danced over the vertical surface of a wall that was just past the fountain. He walked over to touch it, murmuring, “Lightning… and a… trident impact…”

A strained cough rent the air, then a quiet yet hoarse voice rasped, “Who… Who’s there?”

Hermes let out a soft gasp and spun toward the fountain. A figure wearing a dark red cloak was seated against it. He hadn’t noticed them among the unmoving debris. The person coughed again. It sounded like… “Dad?” Hermes whispered.

The thing stopping him from hurrying over was the question of where his father would have gotten the red cloak from. Neither of them had packed one, and Sausage had been wearing his dark blue one when they entered the portal.

The golem then proclaimed, “Yes!” and ran over to the figure. It waved its arms in the air while dashing back and forth in a semi-circle, shouting, “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you?”

“R-Rusty?” the person said, the voice now definitely sounding like Hermes’ father. “Shh. Rusty, I’m happy to see you, too – well, ehhh, sort of but not really, I’ll explain in a minute – but keep your voice down!” They coughed again. “There’s something living in this labyrinth and it’s not pleasant!”

Rusty went still, then stepped up close and seemed to gently place a hand on the person’s knee before whispering, “What’s wrong with you?”

The figure pulled down their hood. From where he stood, Hermes saw a full head of hair and a beard that matched the color and style of his father’s when he was younger.

Well, that changed everything. This man must be one of his father’s alternates from another reality. Hermes swiftly made his presence known, coming over to stand three steps behind Rusty. “Um, hello, sir. I found this little guy as I was searching around this place for my dad. I figured I could help – Rusty, was it? – find you, it seems. Are you all right, by the way? Did you get hurt, or… do you just happen to have a cough? I’m Hermes, by the way.”

Blue eyes with black sclera and what appeared to be runny mascara lifted to meet Hermes’ gaze. That was the face of his father alright. Hermes smiled, albeit awkwardly.

It was always a little weird running into doubles of his parents in other realities.

“Well, hello there, Hermes! I’m Mythical J. Sausage. The ‘J’ is silent.” The answering smile looked weary as the man tried to push himself up using the fountain to brace against. Hermes grasped the other’s arm and helped him stand. “Whoa! Strong grip there! Well, you do look the part of a strapping young god. What type of hybrid are you? I’m a Ghast Mage.” He held out his hand, palm facing upward. Small wisps of smoke rose up from his skin. His smile faltered when it was all that appeared.

Hermes was too busy puzzling over the word ‘hybrid’ to comment on the lack of example, although the context clues of smoke and Ghast made him guess there was supposed to be some kind of fiery explosion involved. “Um, I guess you could say I’m a storm hybrid. I can summon lightning among other atmospheric-related things.”

“Oh, that sounds awesome!” The Ghast Mage’s eyes lit up, taking on an orange hue, but then they squeezed shut as he coughed. “Sorry. Yes, I am kind of hurt, actually. I, uhm, got a dose of my own fireball medicine.” He leaned on the fountain again while Rusty rushed to his side, waving his little arms in the air again.

Hermes watched with a faint smile. The little golem’s concern was endearing. “Sorry to hear that. You said there was something living in this place? I haven’t seen a trace of anything yet except a wall back there that came down in one spot, which is what got our attention to come over this way.” He paused to glance around. “It sure looks like a fight went down here, but I can tell those lightning strikes are old.”

“Oh, speaking of lightning!” The Ghast Mage leaned to his right and picked up something that scrapped the floor with a metallic sound. “I found this while searching for the best place to hide! It was really dusty and I can’t tell if it has any enchantments, but maybe you can use it! I just kinda used it as a walking stick to make it over to here.” He smiled as he held out an ordinary-looking trident.

“Thanks! Actually, that’s very helpful.” Hermes took the trident while trying not to seem overexcited; a trident was just what he needed to augment his power. He held it underneath the tines while running his other hand over the haft. “Hmm. It feels like there’s… something imbued in it. But, like… in its core, not cast upon it… It’s like… someone very powerful once touched it.”

“I’ll trust your stormy senses on that. And I’m just as surprised as you to see a spot like this! I stumbled on it while running away. This is one of the few places I’ve seen so far that isn’t half-covered in sculk. Or what might be sculk? It’s the wrong color – like someone combined sculk and mycelium!”

Hermes’ brows lowered in consideration as he thought back to all the areas of the labyrinth that he had seen on the way. “I haven’t noticed anything like that in the direction I came from, but I was checking for a person, not the color of the floor.”

“You would notice it, believe me! Sculk makes sense, because the portal was in the Deep Dark, but mycelium is only on Mooshroom Islands!"

“Tell me more. I was beginning to wonder how this place could be so empty. Sounds like I just happened to be in the most boring part of it.” Hermes sat down on the side of the fountain to listen to the Ghast Mage tell of his time in the labyrinth. It could give him an idea of what to expect out there when he resumed the search for his father.

To Be Continued in [ Chapter Three ]

[noxcheshire]

If ya’ll know Madoka Magica you will understand how beautiful and haunting the art of the witches that show up on screen are.

LIKE

It’s gorgeous.

That unsettling feeling of seeing something beyond yourself, beyond your sense of consciousness and knowing that this could very well be your grave.

It’s a labyrinth of feelings, of misery, of regret, and wanting that traps its victims in a forever.

You know what else is unsettling?

Death.

Death and ghosts and everything beyond it.

So imagine with me then, that the Infinite Realms and those ecto-born and ecto-contaminated don’t see the ghosts the same way.

Amity Park and its residents see the invading ghosts as close to their real form in life as they are in death.

Those not touched by the Infinite?

They see them the same way as witches. Unnatural creatures that unsettles the mind and environment to allow the ghosts access to the living world.

Maybe that’s why Maddie and Jack Fenton do not see ghosts as sentient things. They have seen them as humans see them, things filled with misery and pain, stealing from those too foolish to wander in the Ghosts domain.

The GIW are much the same, seeing the ghosts as the ‘witches’ they are, not what they were.

Danny doesn’t realize how unsettling he truly is, no one in Amity Park baring the Fenton parents and the GIW do.

Not until he is summoned on his first official Kingly summon, unaware of the looming gaping horror that stood staring back down at the humans that lived outside of Amity Park.

[bet-on-me-13]

Metahumans are just Liminals

So! As far as I know, Metahumans get their powers because they have Nth Metal in their DNA (I think? It might be a single continuity thing).

But what if Nth Metal is just Solidified Ectoplasm?

Metahumans are just a different Brand of Liminal. They get their powers from Metalic Ectoplasm in their DNA rather than Pure Ectoplasm in their Soul. As such, their powers are much more based on their Genetics rather than their Obsessions.

A Metahuman is more likely to have children who share the same power. It is Passed On through their DNA, and as such it may not actually fit the users Personality. The upside is that the Power is usually stronger than normal.

A Liminal will get their powers from their Soul. Whatever fits their Obsession the best is what they will get. The downside is that their power is weaker than a Metahumans abilities.

A Ghost is the perfect combination of the Two.

They have a Core made of Metalic Ectoplasm, and a Soul made of Pure Ectoplasm. They have the Power of a Metahuman, and the Fitting Nature of Liminals.

Side Note: Halfas are kind of an even better version of that? They have the Metalic Core, the Pure Ecto Soul, and the Body of a Human to contain the Power.

Thoughts?

[markerofthemidnight]

Thinking about liminal horror and how cool it would be to see some of that in the Headspace. Here’s a fun idea I came up with below the cut.

The house never, exactly, abided to reality’s rules. Its layout was similar to that of their house in the real world, but each room was bigger than it was supposed to be. They know because Mind personally measured the height and length of each room in order to confirm this, and it bothered him ever since.

Some rooms, like the jail used to hold Heart post-Ruler of Everything, would exist one day and then cease to be the other, as if it disappeared simply because the house doesn’t need it anymore.

But six rooms would always stay there consistently. Their respective rooms, the living room, the kitchen… and the Basement.

The Basement was a door tucked away in the darkest corner of the house, with an inordinate amount of wooden planks nailed to it. None of them had ever went down there before, and for good reason.

Mind reasoned that, if he and the others all represented parts of a person’s consciousness, then the Basement was probably the subconscious brain.

They say only 5% of our brains are dedicated to our consciousness.

And if the three sentient beings with insane anatomy, made of formless nothingness, and the endless labyrinth of trees with a nonsensical warping house in its centre, is just 5% of the actual Headspace…

…then they probably really don’t want to see what’s in the Basement.

But people get curious. And even moreso than that, Soul gets desperate.

So one day, he decides to do the unthinkable. He decides, to punish Heart and Mind for never listening to him, and never doing anything but arguing all the time, he’s going to lock them in the Basement.

To say they didn’t quite like that idea would be an understatement. Heart couldn’t get further away from that thing, and whilst Mind would usually scoff at him being so emotional, he never did so whenever the topic of the Basement came up.

Dragging them down there was relatively easy. Not because they didn’t try and fight back, but because they couldn’t, not with Soul’s near-infinite power so long as he has the Trident. The boards separating them from the Basement also didn’t put up a very good fight when he got to them.

He throws them inside, and they abruptly land at the top of a set of stairs, in such a way that prevents them from tumbling down the rest of the flight… however long that flight may be, as a fair chunk of those steps were covered in fog.

Soul’s about to close the door… but it doesn’t work. The door doesn’t have a latch. Well- that can’t be right. Were those boards the only things keeping the door shut this whole time? They couldn’t be, right?

He groans, and decides to do something… well, in hindsight, incredibly stupid. Instead of just finding a chair or something, he steps inside himself, and tells Heart and Mind to keep going.

And there’s a click, as the door locks.

…He could not have just heard that, right? Soul turns back to the door, and- it has a latch again. And a lock. A lock that won’t open. He’s trapped inside, just like the other two.

After a few seconds of manually trying to wrench the door open with his trident, he sees something else has changed about it. There’s a sentence on it, written in three different colours of blood- their blood.

It’s fairly small, but still easy to see even in the darkness of the Basement. There, perfectly legible with proper punctuation, written in a font reminiscent of an old typewriter, is a message to the three of them, or- no, just to Soul.

Look what you’ve done.

[completeoveranalysis]

[2]

OH! We open up RIGHT where we just were in xxxHolic!

The page starts with Lava Lamp in focus as he reacts with (understandable) confusion at what’s even happening - but then he notices Watanuki is there also, watching from a few feet away, and we zoom out to see the tableau we saw in xxxHolic, but from above.

No wait, I double checked. It's the same angle. (And yet interestingly they added extra detail for the Tsubasa version, with some more paint flecks and shading across the figures)

It’s very fitting that both Watanuki and Lava Lamp get to see this, even though only one of them is physically here. They’re both technically the same person, so if one of them gets to mysteriously meet their parents as they’re freed from the Jam Jar it makes SENSE that the other gets to see it happen too. They are equally the same child. Watanuki WAS Lava Lamp at one point, until he wasn't.

It feels like the universe might have glitched Watanuki into this location due to a coding error, but technically I imagine he’s probably just seeing this through his dream vision, since this is PROBABLY taking place in the dream realm, if anywhere. If reality is falling apart around you do you just default to being in the dream realm? Is the dream realm like the back up space where you just hang out behind reality if you’re not technically existing anywhere else?

Is the dream realm the original back rooms?

[thiebesy]

📱💡 ⬆️

[seeminglydark]

Little moth, Little star, Little interdimensional gateway

A panel from my second comic project, Mil-Liminal

[skippingrocksoverblackholes]

[khyann]

Silly chibi art of the 5 Sausage's crossover from the s2 finale inspired by my partner's @lunarsands fanfic "Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All"

[lunarsands]

Multi-SMP Fanfic: Which Fate’s Fairest To Us All – Ch 6

Characters: Mythical Sausage (1st), Rusty the Copper Golem, PearlescentMoon, Scott Smajor (1st), Mythical Sausage (2nd), Hermes, Mythical Sausage (3rd), Scott Smajor (2nd), Rocky the Goblin, and a couple of briefly mentioned cameos at the end!

WARNINGS: Character death (but they get better because Afterlife/New Life rules are in play), body horror

Chapter Summary: The group escapes the labyrinth at last only to run straight into a new battle against Sparrow and the sculk. Afterward, fate continues to have other plans for Myth and Smajor as they find their way to Sanctuary…

Sequel to Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall and follows sometime after the events of Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All.

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ] [ Chapter Five ]

---

Chapter Six

That tide felt like it would sweep Myth himself away.

“It all started when he – well, when I did what guardian angels do, try to defend against evil, and vampires are the epitome of evil, right? My holy water didn’t seem to do much, so I ran away and he chased me down, and I ended up unconscious, and I woke up as his prisoner for him to feed off of whenever he wanted. He had taken my wings to display as a trophy and cut me off from the sky and sunlight. Eventually he weakened me enough that I ‘died’ – in a way – but I returned to life still in that dungeon but as a wither. Maybe there was something to that resurrection magic for choosing that particular creature for me to become, maybe some sort of influence after all, because I now saw the world from his point of view, and teamed up with him to spread despair in the world.

“But we were never fully on friendly terms. I snapped one day and withered my own wings, no longer allowing him that victory but staying at his side to continue down the path of evil. And then one day he came back dying from poison. And then he revived as an angel. And that was when my mind truly snapped, convinced he had stolen my holiness from me so he could turn himself into something more powerful. We both fell into insanity from the overwhelming need to get revenge on each other, and that’s how we ended up going through dozens of lives, all with different powers and different ways to murder each other, ignoring the rest of the world as we sought to kill the other a final time and win.”

Myth drew a deep breath. “I found a little sanity at some point, probably after I suffered five deaths in a row. Then I became a blazeborn, and Smajor became a gravital, and we had a stalemate going, and I led him into the Deep Dark hoping that a Warden would help take him down a few times. But we ended up going through the portal, and found ourselves in that labyrinth. And then we ran into our doubles, and when they got their previous powers back and I saw how my double looked at his Scott with adoration when he regrew angel wings… I snapped again. And instead of three of us working together to subdue Smajor, we all fought each other. It was that Scott who defeated me – subdued <i>me,</i> saying he had no intention of killing me despite knowing the exact weakness that would destroy me, and I came back to my senses.

“The other me dealt with Smajor and even tried to ‘fix’ him – using his wither powers, he temporarily removed Smajor’s soul and used some combination of his abilities to stabilize it, removing Smajor’s insanity and knocking him out, too. Then they flew off to try to find an exit. Which they did, returning to lead me out and that’s how I knew how to get here this time.”

Now he sighed wearily. “But just because Smajor was no longer insane it didn’t take away his need for revenge. So, that’s why he caused the death that made me a seraph. I was foolish to think that it was a reward for working together with the Mythical Sausage who was the complete opposite of me. I thought it was a sign to avenge everything Smajor had put me through for as many times as I saw fit. But I went too far, causing myself to become fallen. The celestial realm rejected me and punished me, turning my wings blood red to serve as a warning for others to stay away, that I wasn’t any kind of savior. But I didn’t care. I kept taking vengeance on Smajor. I took every life he had, in every form. No powers he gained could stop me. And eventually I became something more condemned than a fallen angel – I became a cursed one.”

Myth’s gaze went to Sausage. “That was the me you met. By then I had found the limit of the transformation magic in our world, and Smajor had no powers at all. But he didn’t die a final time, so I kept him imprisoned, because I could never believe he would change his ways. If he was allowed to go free, I just knew he would find a way to be a menace again, and he had plenty of time to figure out how since we’ve both been doomed to miserable immortality.��

Everyone’s attention was glued to this honest disclosure of Myth’s past. Scott and Ghast-sage had expressions of uneasy concern, while Sausage and Hermes had different amounts of sympathy clear on their faces. Rusty was silent, although his antenna did bob a few times.

“One time, the doubles we had met here appeared in our world – this was before Sanctuary, but the other seraph was in his final form and his Scott was some sort of purple sparkly creature that could call down meteor strikes – as you can guess, I fought with them again… but I really just wanted them to leave me alone. I had given up on redemption. Fate had already told me that I was cursed to be Smajor’s warden.”

Myth grimaced at the irony of the term, given what they had just been through. “Then, one day – after the Sanctuary incident – some kind of magical force teleported us to another world. It was the Superhero’s world.” Here, he cast another glance at Sausage. “Smajor’s double found him before I did, and used vampire powers to turn Smajor – giving him supernatural abilities again. Honestly, I’m just glad Smajor didn’t gain ten powers at once like those guys. The Superhero, his teammate, and I stopped them both, but I went too far again and… was ready to kill that Scott because I assumed too much about his preference for his vampire powers. The Superhero stopped me, things calmed down, a portal appeared that had what we thought were obvious signs it would take us home, and we left on unwelcome terms.”

He hadn’t wanted to admit the one part, worried that the Scott in front of him now would no longer trust him – a justified thought, as Scott took a hasty step back. Myth continued to keep his arms at his sides even though the lack of gesticulating as he spoke made him feel weird. “Something happened during the teleport once we went through. I lost sight of Smajor, and then suddenly I was turned into a phoenix. And then I stepped out of a Nether portal into your world.” He gave a nod to Scott and Ghast-sage.

“Everyone who came by assumed I was their ghast mage, so I pretended to ‘forget’ what had happened that made ‘me’ turn into a phoenix just so I could… well, wrap my head around it all. Rusty knew something was up, but he let me adjust to life there. It was… a nice break from the back-and-forth murder. I… had a chance to just live and learn new things, like all that technology you have. I, um, I tried to keep things in good condition for you.”

Myth briefly glanced at Ghast-sage, then lowered his gaze only to glance back again. “Then Smajor showed up. He had changed, too, into a fungal mage. He had accepted being mistaken for their Scott, too, but he somehow grew a conscience and wanted to find the versions of us that belonged there. I told him to go away because I didn’t trust his motives. Then he came back with news of where his investigations had led him: the Ancient City and its active portal. I knew what that meant. And he knew that I was the only one who would know how to get out of the labyrinth.”

Myth sighed regretfully. “I still didn’t want to trust him, and I didn’t know which option was better: both of us going in and unwillingly splitting up to find you, or only me and having no choice but to trust him to not destroy the portal behind me. And then I had no say in it, anyway, because sculk began to attack and he used his powers to fight it – and to fling me into the portal. And now that is what could be waiting for us on the other side.”

Myth brought his hands forward to look at them as he curled and uncurled his fingers a few times. “Guess I also now have what I need to stop the sculk and stop Smajor if he tries anything.” He nodded at Sausage and Hermes. “At least you can safely go through your portal. It will let you out where you entered. My plan is to go through with them, destroy the sculk if it’s still there, grab Smajor, and come back here. All of you must destroy your portals after that, and any others you find in your worlds to stop anyone else getting stuck in this limbo dimension – and stop any of that mutated sculk from escaping here.”

Hermes slowly panned his gaze over the entirety of the portal cluster. “What about the rest of these? And what if there are more spots like this in here with more portals?”

“I’m going to drag Smajor through each one and back to warn the people in those worlds. I’ve got infinite time to do it.”

“Mate, that’s going to take too long.” Hermes began ticking off a list on his fingers.  “You’ll lose him every time you come back in. He could escape through any of the other portals while you’re trying to find him. More people might wander in while you’re busy in just one world trying to convince them. You might meet people who want to stop you.” He shook his head emphatically. “I think you’ll want to leave this to someone who has more experience with navigating the multiverse.”

Myth scowled, all too aware of the logistics; a second later an amused smirk crossed his face. “Ah. So, if the Guardian of Realities’ job here wasn’t to guide us out, it was to learn about this problem and travel around to deal with it. Then I guess there’s no use for Smajor and I after all. Makes enough sense. But I still need to collect him before I go home, so let’s get moving.”

Feeling a little drained from all the talking – as well as feeling redundant yet again – Myth flew up to the portal that once led to his new life. He waited before entering, giving Scott a few seconds to teleport Ghast-sage and Rusty to the inner edge of the portal frame before saying to them, “Escape as soon as you can when we’re on the other side. I’ll still be the one to handle Smajor and the sculk. Protector!” he then called down, watching Hermes pick up his father to make it a little easier to reach their own portal. In an effort to offer the sincerest thing he could think of, Myth said, “Good luck. May the pearlescent moon’s guidance speed your travels.”

He didn’t hear Sausage gasp. The swooshing sound of the teleportation magic was already taking hold.

~*~

Myth was alert for Smajor’s position as soon as the Ancient City came into view through the swirling particles. When he caught movement to his left he spun toward it, spreading his wings to shield Scott and Ghast-sage behind him. He made a shooing motion with his right hand, signaling them to move away. He trusted them to take cover further back or even defend themselves from any encroaching sculk, because he was dead set on catching Smajor before anything else.

With his attention firmly turned away from the portal it was easy for additional figures to slip out of it and also run for cover.

As he leapt toward the suspicious movement in front of him, Myth prepared to utter the unsettling noise that he fully expected to get Smajor’s attention. However, Myth was the one who came up short at the sight awaiting him. At first it seemed Smajor was attacking Sparrow – except he was human again, or human-ish; at the very least, Myth was very certain that Sparrow had been a copper golem the last time he had seen him.

Next he noted the blotches of sculk all over Sparrow’s body, including both skin and clothes. Then there was the distinct fact that Sparrow was standing over Smajor, pressing closer and closer to the fungal mage’s throat with an unusual-looking strand of sculk vein.

Of important note was also that there was absolutely no mycelium near Smajor. His back was against a large unbroken carpet of sculk, and despite the flicker of spores around his hands revealed by the light of nearby soul lanterns, the strand wasn’t converting, either. Meanwhile, there was a visible bubbling effect occurring where Sparrow held it.

When tinier bits of sculk vein oozed out of these bubbles to land on Smajor’s chest and face Myth knew where to focus his attack. He pounced, reaching around from behind Sparrow to grab the strand, grasping it directly next to Sparrow’s hands. Myth registered the wire-like feel of it before activating his powers. Within less than a second the whole length of it was crumbling due to decay.

And as Myth had suspected, Sparrow yelped in pain when the decay touched his hands.

The sculk-possessed humanoid’s instincts were to jump away, but Myth closed his arms around him. He refrained from using any more decay – he needed answers, not a disappearing pile of dust while Sparrow’s consciousness revived elsewhere. He did, however, finally utter the bone-chilling breath of a wither, intending to strike some fear into Sparrow.

It was Smajor who emitted a terrified gasp and began a frenzied attempt to slide away backward. He failed to move an inch. Myth now saw that the fungal mage was not just lying on the sculk but was actually trapped by a sludgy form of it that was clinging to his robes.

Smajor really wasn’t the culprit here. It was Sparrow.

“Let me go!” the now-struggling Sparrow yelled. “Intruders must be eliminated!”

Myth scoffed at the irony. “Well, I guess that means I need to be eliminated, too. Don’t really care for that. How about you settle down instead? We need to talk.” Maintaining a tight grasp on Sparrow with one arm, Myth leaned to the side to grab a fistful of sculk out of the ground. He brought it around to hold it in front of Sparrow’s face. “You might be able to play fungus tug-of-war with him, but I can make it so no one has any ammunition.” He crushed the sculk in his hand. The ashen remains fluttered down before Sparrow’s eyes.

Sparrow thrashed wildly in response, forcing Myth to turn around in an effort to keep him restrained. “No! How could you do that to us?! This is our home! Our domain! You’re the ones who don’t belong here! You can’t stop us! We can keep spreading from anywhere and we’ll keep coming back no matter what you do!”

“You’re right about him and me not belonging. But I think we’re exactly what this world needed: two people who are very good at destruction.” Myth’s gaze flicked to a flurry of orange particles in the distance. In the next second he was shoving Sparrow into Scott’s arms; they disappeared immediately, and once he saw the transporter reappear on top of a sculk-free deepslate wall, Myth plunged his hands into the sculk at his very feet with a roar.

Decay shot across the entire surface in an expanding radius around him. Smajor dropped onto the layer of solid deepslate below as the muck trapping him crumbled away. He coughed from the stale remnants that floated in the air before those, too, dissipated. He stayed where he was, simply watching the wave of decay as it continued ever outward. However, he abruptly scrambled to his feet when he saw other faces peeking out from around a deepslate pillar – one that was partially held up by sculk. He ran toward it and flung his hands out, sending a line of mycelium across the floor and up the pillar, replacing the sculk just as the spreading decay was about to reach it.  Smajor then fell backward, chest heaving before he recovered enough to sit up again.

Sparrow’s distorted voice rang out. “No, no, no!! Where are the guardians of this city?! Rise, Wardens! I command you!” His voice lost all semblance of itself on the final three words.

The ground underneath Myth rumbled and churned. Before he could react, numerous large clawed hands thrust upward out of the resulting rubble and grabbed him, pulling him down through the displaced floor with bits of deepslate cutting at him on the way.

Scott teleported to the spot but even he was too slow to do anything – the deepslate reformed itself into solid ground right before his eyes. Sparrow laughed in triumph.

“Ohmygod!” Ghast-sage shouted from where he was hiding. “Th-They can just do that?!”

Scott squatted to touch the floor. Surely it would start crumbling away when Myth unleashed his powers in order to destroy the Wardens that had grabbed him, and surely he could make deepslate decay just like the sculk…

A sound like the reversed shattering of glass interrupted the horrified silence that had followed. From behind the pillar Smajor had prevented from falling came a small bolt of orange energy that ricocheted rapidly off of thin air. It struck the ground where Myth had disappeared. Scott drew back, startled, but then lowered his hand again. He could swear the surface under his palm was growing warm.

No, it definitely was.

He leapt away a breath before the deepslate turned molten and buckled upward in the shape of a volcanic cone. A blazing form burst from the center – Myth, his wings and upper body aflame in hues of glowing orange. A split-second glimpse of his eyes revealed twin blind embers as he continued soaring straight up. A deafening hawk-like screech rent the cavern. Myth crashed right into the ceiling a second later.

No one saw what happened to him in the aftermath. While they had been watching him, the volcano in the floor had doubled in size and its sides had begun to protrude. It exploded outward, covering the entire area in a blanket of burning lava.

~*~

The next thing Myth became aware of was a voice that sounded an awful lot like Hermes and might have been asking Myth if he could hear him. He lifted his head from the oddly warm ground. At the corners of his fuzzy vision, he could discern the fading light of lava disappearing into cracks before the rest of it began to cool. He was confused by the orange tufts at the top of his line of sight. Groggily maneuvering a hand out from under his prone body to touch them revealed that it was his own hair. He shifted a wing into view. His feathers were orange again.

This universe really was dead-set on wanting him to be a phoenix.

He sat up, keeping his hand to his head, while Hermes kept plying him for a response. Myth’s ears were ringing, so the words weren’t clear, plus he was still processing the fact the young man was there. “Wha… You were… Your own portal…” Myth mumbled. “How’d you… get here?”

Hermes’ voice continued to be muffled by the thankfully now-dulling ring, so Myth tried using his eyes to gain information. He saw the blurry figure of Sausage standing over someone, talking to them. The blur was resolving itself slowly, so Myth squinted at the sitting figure. The red shape that bobbed along with their head movements clarified into a mushroom cap. Myth tried to lunge onto his feet, a warning on his lips.

He fell flat on his face instead. He had been revived once again, yet he didn’t feel particularly refreshed in the energy department this time around.

“Easy, mate,” came a gentle reproach from Hermes as he lent Myth a hand in sitting up again. “You smacked into the ceiling pretty hard. We figured you could withstand the heat better than the others, so we recovered them first. I’ve got to say, the resurrection magic of this world is fascinating to witness.”

Myth looked to where Sausage stood. There were four bodies near him: three laying on the ground with Rusty pacing next to one of them and the last one sitting up as the chat with Sausage continued. Now Myth could tell there was a difference; although there was the white hair under the mushroom cap like Smajor, the clothes were Scott’s.

Myth’s body froze up as a realization began to dawn in his brain, but his gaze was able to slide to the other figures. The identical fungal mage was there, in the same robes as expected with his satchel beside him. Next was Sparrow, lacking the sculk that had marred him before. And then a face identical to his own right down to the orange beard and hair, if not minus the extensive scar, with orange-feathered wings splayed out underneath him, and wearing the Ghast Mage’s robes.

Understanding settled over him. He let a bitter smile cross his face then he slouched, letting an invisible weight off his shoulders. He turned his head as Hermes sat down beside him. “I need you to explain again why you’re here. I didn’t catch it the first time.”

“Sure. We were about to go through our portal but Dad said he sensed something from the Staff and insisted we follow you guys. You were already moving away when we came through, so we took cover to watch what might happen. Dad was trying to figure out what the Staff wanted, then that gemstone in it shattered and released some sort of magic beam out to where you got dragged underground. After that things got kind of dicey because a massive lava eruption happened after you flew out of like, a volcano-looking thing. Or maybe the volcano spat you out and the lava followed. N-Not to say you caused it,” Hermes quickly amended. “I’m not sure how conscious you even were at that point, and that was before you hit the ceiling.”

Myth put a hand to his head as if feeling for a bump, shifting his gaze to his boots. “I don’t remember anything between the Wardens pulling me in and a few minutes ago. But it’s obvious Smajor and I have to go soon. This world doesn’t need two phoenixes and fungal mages.” He started to push himself up, then felt a wave of dizziness, so he sat back down. “…After a little more rest.”

By now Smajor had awakened and was talking quietly to Scott. His movements were sluggish as he picked up his satchel of mushrooms and opened it. However, once he began pointing inside as the two chatted his energy seemed to pick up a bit. Myth kept what he felt was a reasonable amount of wariness, although perhaps he had given enough warnings about Smajor up till then that Hermes and Sausage could handle him.

The former Ghast Mage woke next. He snuck a few glances at Myth between observing the two fungal mages. Myth didn’t feel like chatting with him, anyway, so it was for the best that the other stayed where he was. He instead turned his mind toward composing a strategy for his next move.

As if privy to his train of thought, Hermes asked, “Are you still planning to go back in that labyrinth?”

“Of course. What else is there?”

“Well, I think you should come with my dad and I to Sanctuary. You could rest up a little more so you’ll be in better shape to chase down your unfortunately assigned ward over there when you get separated. It will be more comfortable than sitting around this cave. Plus, these guys will have their hands full going around destroying all the Ancient City portals here. In Sanctuary Dad and I can help keep an eye on Smajor.”

With the amicable-sounding conversation from the two fungal mages floating his way Myth admitted that this would, perhaps, be the better option.

~*~

After swapping clothes with their doubles, Myth, Smajor, and the rest of their new group stood watching from their hiding spot as the rightful phoenix and fungal mage of that universe walked away, Sparrow trudging wearily along between them and Rusty looking over the former Ghast-sage’s shoulder. Sparrow was still dazed from his experience, having been mumbling is distressed sorrow over having fought with his friends, and was apologizing profusely to Scott for trying to kill him.

They all thought it best to not involve Sparrow in the confusion of doubles from other realities; he had no memory of Myth destroying the sculk or of the Wardens dragging Myth underground. All Sparrow said he could recall was some kind of large explosion, comparing it to TNT.

After waiting ten minutes to make sure they were gone, Sausage held the Staff aloft – incidentally showing that it was back to its mossy and red-mushroom bedecked appearance – and a moment later Myth found himself blinking against bright sunlight streaming through tall stands of bamboo. A path with assorted flowers decorating random spots meandered away in front of them, splitting to the left to go up a slope to a small building while the rest of the path passed through a variety of trees, beyond which were the homes and businesses of Sanctuary itself. Myth cast a glance over his shoulder. Behind them was a giant tree stump with a giant white tulip growing atop it. Below the tulip and slightly to the right was a Nether portal.

He assumed this was a coincidence.

Sausage and Hermes walked past behind him, so Myth fully turned to watch and wait for a sign to follow. Now he saw a second, large-ish tree with a hollow in the middle near the roots. Squinting, Myth could see an armor stand inside. It was here that Sausage placed the Staff on one side of the armor stand while Hermes placed his trident on the other. A shimmer appeared over the front of the hollow as they exited.

Sausage smiled as he returned to the visitors, tired wrinkles appearing on his face. “Needs to recharge. Let’s go refresh at the tavern!”

As their host led the way, Myth none-too-subtly tossed glares at Smajor from the corner of his eyes. Smajor peered at him once with a neutral expression then lowered his head, keeping pace between Myth and Hermes the whole way.

The ambience of a breeze off the sea and call of animals hidden by trees and bamboo was a stark contrast to the stagnant isolation of both the labyrinth and the Deep Dark. When they reached the town proper Myth saw people of every race and species going about their day. Some of them called out greetings to Sausage and Hermes. There was a reverence in a few of the tones, as if they were addressing a king – or maybe it was Hermes’ status as a demi-god. Either way, the Protector and his son responded as friends rather than as rulers.

Upon reaching the tavern Sausage flung the door open and cheerfully called out, “¡Regresamos! ¿Cómo están todos? ¡María! ¡Justo a quién quería ver!” He crossed between tables to a person who, to Myth’s eyes, looked like an anthropomorphic rabbit wearing leatherworker gear. She had been helping an Allay change out tablecloths in the booths along the wall, but spoke an excited greeting then began chatting away with Sausage in his native language.

Hermes waved Myth and Smajor toward the bar. The latter hesitated. “Come on. Take a seat. My little brother can mix up some drinks to your liking. Best bartender in Sanctuary! ¡Hola, Rocky! We have newcomers!”

“¡Hola!” said a gravelly voice from behind the bar. From below behind the bar. Myth was about to sit on one of the barstools but curiosity seized him so he leaned over the bar to see what this brother of a demi-god might look like. He ended up making eye contact with a short, green-skinned person wearing similar brightly-colored clothes as the people around town. They uttered a strange sort of chirp in response. “¡Ay! ¡Papá! ¿Qué te pasó en la cara? ¡Y el pelo!”

Hermes laughed. “No, no, hermano– this is one of Dad’s dobles from another reality.”

“Oh. You could have warned me!” The small fellow chirped again. He added a sort of gargling sound afterward, then went about getting some clean mugs.

Apparently replying to these vocalizations, Hermes said, “Something to give everyone a little pick-me-up. No, I think you can leave out the redstone zest for now. We’ve had enough high blood pressure for one day.” He sat down as Myth settled onto the barstool, explaining, “Rocky is adopted from the goblin kingdom. He goes back and forth between languages in the same sentence, kind of an assimilation quirk of goblinfolk when they intermingle with other cultures they’re exposed to.”

Smajor had remained standing, hovering near the end of the bar. When Rocky stepped up onto a wooden ledge to place a mug in front of him, Smajor lightly shook his head. “No thank you, actually. I think I would rather just sleep. Using up my mana twenty times in a row is exhausting.” He continued to avoid looking at Myth – which was difficult, since he wanted to address Hermes.

Rocky uttered a “Prrrt” and stepped down. He then brought the mug over to Hermes and slid it next to where the young man rested his elbow, making an indiscernible comment. He then exited the bar, walking around to where Smajor was. “Follow me, Don Sombrero de Hongo. We offer the most comfortable rooms in all of Sanctuary to visitors.”

“I have no idea what you just called me,” Smajor said wearily. “But, whatever. Show me the way.” As they headed up the staircase Maria followed, one hand casually resting on the pommel of the dagger stuck through a loop on her apron.

Sausage came over to sit next to Hermes. He pulled over the mug Rocky had left, holding it between his hands. “Maria will keep an eye on him. Just in case.” He took a sip from the mug then let out a satisfied sigh. “Ah, it’s good to be home. I’ll start sending explanations about the Ancient City portals to the other empires in a little while. For now, these old bones need to rest!” He sighed again before taking a long, noisy sip of his drink.

Hermes casually cleared his throat. “Speaking of Ancient Cities, I have a proposal for you.” He swiveled his barstool toward Myth. “I have more training to do as Apprentice-Guardian-of-Realities, and obviously that means I have to go visit a bunch more worlds. You want to go around the multiverse in a round-about fashion. So, why don’t you travel with me? Using the Staff to get around will be much more efficient than having to go through that labyrinth over and over again. Sounds kind of lonely to me, really. Might as well have someone along who can vouch for what’s going on in that place. And I can help you avoid any realities that you’ve already been to – by the way, do the mobs in the Superhero’s world have ten powers, too?”

Myth stared back blankly for a moment, confused by Hermes’ blithe tone. The young man clearly hadn’t gotten enough of a taste of how dangerous it was to be around him. “I wouldn’t be alone, technically,” Myth blurted. “I’m taking Smajor. And there is no way I would risk bringing him along with that Staff there to tempt him—”

Sausage, hands resting around his mug again, calmly interrupted, “Well, there isn’t a Scott in this world anymore, so it wouldn’t cause a cosmic paradox if yours stayed here. Under my supervision, of course. Everyone is welcome to take shelter in Sanctuary, after all.” A small smile graced his visage, his age-lined eyes holding gentleness and patience as he looked at Myth.

Old buried resentment threatened to surface until Myth realized that this was a look of understanding and acceptance, not the pleading insistence of a shining seraph who wanted a cursed angel to give up his pain before he was ready. Still, his voice came out in a grumble. “You can’t be implying that I should stay here, too. You and I still make a paradox.”

“I’m the Guardian of Realities! Come on, now! I can cheat a little bit to make an exception for myself! And for whichever of myselves happen to find their way to my doorstep! But, ehhh, it is probably a good idea to leave with Hermes regularly. Just so no overarching multiversal powers-that-be don’t catch on, if you know what I’m sayin’. It’ll be fine! Don’t you worry for a minute! The multiverse has a job for you, after all!”

~*~   EPILOGUE   ~*~

Three months later…

Sausage walked out of the former L.O.R.E. headquarters after bidding everyone farewell, his sunflower-styled walking stick in hand. The items from the rift incident had been carefully packed away to be replaced by an ever-growing pile of charts and arrangements of different colored string across a bulletin board. The latter was to illustrate which realities shared similarities, noted mainly out of the interest in which ones were parallels of each other. The charts recorded spatial coordinates for each reality and the types of worlds that existed within them.

The initial team of two had grown during their travels throughout the multiverse. The debriefing room currently accommodated the likes of Blood Pearl of Mythland, an accomplished reality-hopper herself, who had been seeking a way to save her dear friend the Farmer King of Helianthia from fated doom; a Time Witch named Cleo who was on a quest to fix her own fractured timeline; and Interstellar Paladin Sparklez, who had been attempting to teach the ways of balance to the multiverse after his goddess, Lady Ianite, sacrificed herself to save his world.

Sausage had listened in enough times to acknowledge that Myth had gotten the hang of things, so he felt he could take his leave. He stopped off at the tavern and the bakery, procuring a picnic basket on the way to fill with some supplies, then headed off into a denser part of the bamboo forest outside of Sanctuary. He stopped briefly near a weather-worn stone memorial to check on a patch of unique flowers with an equally weather-worn wooden sign in front of the small border that surrounded them. The two species of flowers, which only grew in that one location in all the world, were thriving as they always had, so he continued on his trek.

A few minutes later the tall bamboo began to be overshadowed by the caps of giant mushrooms. Shorter clusters of them hugged the sides of the path along the way, some of mixed red and brown, some just one or the other at different heights, and even some warped and crimson fungus were there standing out amongst the mundane colors.

Then he reached the main mushroom grove, where the path itself turned to pure mycelium while around it was grass of a rich, deep emerald color. With even more of the giant mushrooms providing shade overhead, the air felt cooler as well as holding a comfortable dew point, making it seem like a completely different biome had been plunked down in the middle of the bamboo jungle.

Sausage leaned on his walking stick as he admired one of the giant mushrooms that had three joined stems, noting how it had the shape of a brown mushroom but with the bright orange specks found on a warped fungus.

A polite yawn behind him made him turn; Smajor stood there holding the last basket that Sausage had brought out, tiny mushrooms piled up to the point they were going to spill out if he tilted it. “Hello, Protector,” he greeted in a neutral tone. He had adopted the title to use for referring to him, never once calling Sausage by name. “What brings you out here?”

“I just thought I’d stop by and check on things.” Sausage held up the new basket, not needing to include this also meant offering his guest some food and drinks.

Smajor gently set down the one he had been carrying then waved a hand, causing two red mushrooms big enough to sit on to spring up behind himself and Sausage.

“Ah. Thank you.” Sausage leaned over to set his basket down on the ground too, then leaned on his walking stick again as he carefully lowered himself onto the provided seat. “It’s looking very nice out here. It feels serene. I’m particularly impressed with that one, there.” He gestured to the three-stemmed mushroom. “It reminds me of a kingdom I once saw. They also had magically-grown mushrooms in different colors, although that was attributed to special crystals that had been planted alongside regular mushrooms.”

“I thought I would experiment a little with the types I can conjure. As for that particular one…” Smajor paused, his eyes seeming to go distant for a second, then he continued, “They remind me of… home. From a long, long time ago. This place is very bright in comparison, so it’s not going to be a perfect imitation. But when the sun sets and the light is just right… It feels like my own little private piece of a twilight forest.”

There was a wistfulness in his voice that reached Sausage’s heart. “I’m glad you’ve been able to make a place for yourself during your time here. You’re always welcome in town, too, whenever you like.”

A frown pulled at the corners of Smajor’s lips, but he didn’t take out any of his bitterness on the well-meaning old man. “No, I’d rather stay here. Talking to nature suits me better than talking to people, and I definitely don’t want to run into Myth by accident. And I don’t want him to come here.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s too busy to pay a visit.”

"Either way, he will never stop looking at me like he thinks I'm going to murder you all if the wind starts blowing from another direction." Smajor sighed in feigned-resignation. "I mean, I still want to see him dead, but since that is extremely unlikely to ever happen, I'll stick with never seeing his particular face again. Out here is my peace, and if you want more reasons to stop feeling obligated to invite me to town, then think of it as me staying out here makes it safer for everyone. I want to keep it that way.”

THE END

[post-A/N: That wraps things up for Myth and Smajor, along with the Past Unmasked timeline! Well, unless I get struck by more inspiration out of the blue. Obviously this went far beyond a couple of darkfics written for the heck of it and an AU based on a friend's artwork, so who knows! But I do want to focus on other Empires S1 stuff and potentially one more fic for Soul Liminality 2, so please stay tuned! I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read these bizarre AUs of mine, with a special shout out to those who left comments! The encouragement is greatly appreciated! Thank you so much for staying with me through the development of these characters and their wanderings away from canon. I hope you'll enjoy the fics I write in the future!]

~*~*~

Translations:

¡Regresamos! ¿Cómo están todos? ¡María! ¡Justo a quién quería ver!  -We have returned! How is everyone? Maria! Just who I wanted to see!

Hola! – Hello!

¡Ay! ¡Papá! ¿Qué te pasó en la cara? ¡Y el pelo!  - Yikes! Papa! What happened to your face? And hair!

Hermano -  brother

Dobles - doubles

Don Sombrero de Hongo - Mister Mushroom Hat

[lunaryarn]

Fanfic Archive Masterpost

Included in this list: Afterlife/ALSMP, Empires SMP S1 and S2, 3rd Life SMP (under Flower Husbands Week), and Origins SMP (still just one, sorry). Updated as I complete more works!

Latest updates:

11/21/24 - I have finished settling in to the new place and am back to trying to write! Also, something weird happened to this post. I don't know how some things got out of order.

Note: Stories with only one chapter will be linked by their title.

Afterlife SMP

Soul Liminality series: (a.k.a. Scott and Sausage fight each other)

Bloodfall

Witherrise

Fatemirrored

Heavensent

HellBent [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ]

( Artwork by Khyann - The Fall of Myth ) (A commission of Myth done by E!)

Soul Liminality 2: I Would Die For You series: (a.k.a. Scott and Sausage are in love with each other)

Echoing Through to You ( With Artwork by Khyann! )

When the Skies Cry [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ]

Until the Blood Moon Descends [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] ( With Artwork by Khyann! )

Then We’ll Rewrite the Stars [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] ( With Artwork by Khyann! ) 

Wherever These Flowers May Grow [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ] ( With Artwork by Khyann! )

Along the Roads to Sanctuary [ Chapter One ][ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ]

The Reality Entanglement crossovers:

Mirror Mirror, Break Our Fall (SL meets SL2) [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ]

Who’s The Unfairest of Us All (SL meets SL2 again)

Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall (SL meets x10 plus bonus!) [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ]

Which Fate’s Fairest To Us All (SL meets New Life meets Empires S2!) [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ] [ Chapter Five ] [ Chapter Six + Epilogue ]

Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All (throw together ALL the AUs!) [ Part One ] [ Part Two ] (Artwork by Khyann - Chibi Sausage chaos!])

A standalone fic:

In Light and In Darkness [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ]

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Empires SMP

The Past Unmasked/The Future Foretold Saga:

The Past Unmasked ( Artwork by Khyann that inspired this fic) (Bonus related artwork by Khyann)

Phantom Solitude [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ]

Glimpses of Fate [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ]

The Future Foretold [ Chapter One ][ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] ( With Artwork by Khyann! )

Champion of Exor AU: A Garden’s Path with side stories:

A Garden’s Path [ Prologue ] [ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] 

A Small Introduction to The Children of Mythland

See How Our Garden Grows (mini fic that goes with [ this concept artwork ] by Khyann)

Chibis! Introducing: Liana by Khyann

Also set in this AU: [ Artwork by Khyann with fic blurb ]

Azahar and his violin by Khyann

Once Around the Empires [ Part One ] [ Part Two - currently WIP ]

Night of the Winter Stars ( Collab Artwork by Khyann! )

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Other

Flower Husbands Week 2022: [ Day 1 ] [ Day 2 ] [ Day 3 ] [ Day 5 ] [ Day 6 ] [ Day 7 ]

Origins SMP: Star Sign

[6nocturnal6nymph6]

"𝕬𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖌𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈—𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖗 🌕🦇

[flowercrowngods]

what if who did this to you part 4 is tinged in the pale blue of max klinger’s l‘heure bleu and what if it’s so liminal it doesn’t feel real because the after never does when you don’t even know the before, and what if robin turns into a caspar david friedrich painting and what if steve becomes the blue that depressed robin but she loves him anyway and what if i just lose my mind about them

[amy---pearson]

Mentally, I’m here!!!

I am just an Autumn

soul waiting through

the seasons to get

back to where I belong...