Chapter 9: Initiation (9)
"Fuck me...anyone get the license plate of the bullet train that ran over my skull?"
No answer was forthcoming to his disgruntled inquiry, Lance grudgingly opening his eyes only to be greeted with the sight of Shir'Atath staring down at him from a distance most would describe as an invasion of personal bubbles.
"Good morning, sleepy head~! Have pleasant dreams?"
"...That's the last time I try to go inside of you for a while, Shir."
The grimoire snickered, planting an affectionate kiss on his lips before smacking him across the skull - which felt a bit like a sticking his head next to a fully powered Kharma Grand Enigma at a dubstep concert during the drop - as she cheerily said, "I suppose you won't be making the mistake of rooting around in my skull for quite some time, will you?"
An involuntary shiver wracked his body, brain - which he did have, despite the grimoire's claims to the contrary - recalling the deluge of sounds, memories, images, vistas, stars, ideas, timelines and gods only know what else that had assaulted his mind, overwhelming it and promptly causing him to blackout in a bid to protect his sanity.
"That's a loud silence, Lance~."
"Yeah, no shit. Christ that was a nasty experience...how long was I out? Is Celestia okay?"
The demon girl raised an eyebrow.
"Any reason she wouldn't be? Or are you just worried about the big titty elf because she's a big titty elf?"
Rolling his eyes the teen grumbled, "A quarter because she is indeed a beautiful big titty elf. The other three-fourths concern is because I have zero idea what went down after my everything went haywire."
"Eh, fair point. You've only been out six hours and you didn't do anything too crazy, mostly you just made a mess of yourself and collapsed in under three seconds."
"...Great. Stellar first showing I made of my magic talents."
The grimoire snickered, rolling off of him to saunter over to the fridge, picking out a few of the leftover tacos, heedless of their less than fresh state.
"At least you didn't explode, that happened once before with one of my hosts."
"...To quote ol' Billy Dee Williams, this deal is getting worse all the time."
The grimoire gave a negligent wave of her hand as Lance forced himself to his feet, padding off towards the shower as she stated, "Just think of the big titty elves, Lance."
"Trust me, I'm trying."
Cranking on the hot water the spiky-haired teen belatedly realized he had no idea how to work the horrifically complicated knobs and levers that allowed for an insane amount of customization but were less than conducive for ease of use, heaving out a sigh of defeat.
"Never thought I would need knowledge of the omniverse just to work the fucking showerhead."
Throwing caution to the wind and just throwing on random settings in the hope it would work properly Lance called, "So what's on the agenda for today?"
"Getting you used to the idea that you aren't actually human anymore, naturally! You're not human, supernatural or even technically a god anymore, contractor...it's time you started believing that."
Shivering violently at that notion the teen forced himself to put the matter out of sight and mind, instead stepping into the shower-
-and cursing violently as it felt like it was a fraction of a degree above freezing.
"Hey, Shir! I need to delve into your mind again and uncover the mysteries of the universe so I can work this cocksucking contraption!"
"...You're Limbo's combat guy?"
Heshal blandly nodded at Lance's disbelieving inquiry, replying, "I have the distinct pleasure of being the primary combat instructor of Limbo, yes. While much of what we do is related to non-combat disciplines it's a fact of life that an organization like ours must sometimes bring along a fair bit of muscle to enforce our conclusions, dissertations and sovereignty. To that end knowledge of the combat arts is necessary, not to mention it will be an efficient way of convincing you that the body you inhabit is no longer bound by mortal constraints."
The Fallen motioned to the large, sweeping auditorium comprised of three differing levels, each one the size of four football fields and alive with the sound of clashing weapons, pounding metal and grunts of exertion as the denizens of Limbo went about their varying workout routines, each tier containing a different set of equipment and arenas ranging from dance floors to sparring mats.
The one he was occupying, the bottom floor, contained a gargantuan lap pool, high dives and what looked to be an oversized obstacle course occupying its surface.
"You will run this course in five minutes, not skipping or going around any obstacles until you have finished it in its entirety. Accomplish that and we shall call it a day."
Lance looked at what the man was referring to, of straight five meter walls of polished metal, enormous chasms clearly meant to be jumped over by a kangaroo on a few dozen lines of cocaine, shuttered gates that looked as if it would take a team of linebackers to force open and teetering platforms that a cat would have had difficulty navigating.
"...Are you pulling my dick?"
"I assure you, any dick pulling is the exclusive duty of the 'entertainment' venue within Limbo."
Rubbing his eyes in exasperation the teen pointed out, "Those obstacles would be impossible for a fucking olympian. How am I supposed to-"
His ears picked up the humming whistle of something sharp approaching his position, an icy pain pricked his neck and his field of view seemed to flip upside down as the room tilted dangerously-
-and he let loose a strangled gasp, hand flying to his throat as Shir'Atath cheerily asked, "As impossible as you repeatedly surviving decapitation?"
"Can you please stop doing that?!"
"As soon as you accept that you're no longer a measly human, sure. Oh, by the way, just to make sure the point really sinks in you're not allowed to eat or drink anything for two straight weeks."
Casting a despairing gaze around the obstacle course straight from hell Lance muttered, "I would say this is going to be the death of me but apparently that's impossible…"
"That's the spirit~!"
Heaving out a sigh as the grimoire's words of 'encouragement' the young man popped his neck and grumbled, "Alright...let's get to it."
"FUCK!"
"Are you certain this is working, Shir'Atath?"
"Eh, not really. Sure is entertaining though."
"SHIT!"
"While I wouldn't presume to tell you how to spend your time I am a rather busy individual and while grooming the future leader of Limbo is a worthwhile task-"
"FUCKING SHIT!"
"-I feel as if my day is being wasted doing nothing."
"...Yeah, I guess you're right."
Turning to where Lance had yet again failed to clear the jump and subsequently had the wind knocked out of him the grimoire snapped her fingers, levitating the disgruntled and annoyed youth back to her position.
"This sucks. And it doesn't help that I have an audience either."
Heshal glanced upwards, noting that a few dozen Limbo members had indeed taken to watching the display with mostly amused or curious looks...but a noticeable few were doubtful or unimpressed.
The Fallen tried to console the visibly frustrated and irate youth, stating, "The hard part will not be doing these things, it's believing they can be done. You've lived an entire life where such feats would have been nigh unachievable for even the greatest of your athletes, overturning that preconception at the drop of a hat would be far more unusual than struggling as you are now."
Running a hand through his hair the youth muttered, "Yeah, well, it's not you I'm trying to convince, it's all the other people up there, isn't it?"
Nodding at the correct inference Heshal was briefly unsure on how to restore the young man's confidence when Shir'Atath abruptly snapped her fingers, smiling mischievously as she trilled, "Oh, I know just how to get you in the right mindset and put all those naysayers to shame~!"
"Why does that statement give me serious chills up and down my spine-hey hey HEY?!"
Before he could struggle or do much of anything the grimoire sent him flying into the pool with a burst of her magic-
-and with a manic grin snapped her fingers, the air screaming and temperature dropping as a layer of light-absorbing midnight ice formed over the pool, trapping Lance underneath as a couple startled curses could be heard from the watching crowd, Heshal frowning as he asked, "Will this not lead to mental degradation on his part? He won't die, yes, but locked in a suffocating and lightless prison for however long you intend to leave him in there? That seems the very definition of running before one can walk."
Shrugging with a clear lack of concern the grimoire blithely replied, "I'm not worried, he used to do constant swimming and something like this should be much easier to handle than, say, being tossed into an active volcano. And the things that will come afterwards are much harder...time for my contractor to sink or swim~!"
Lance sternly reminded himself that panicking while in a possible drowning scenario was the worst thing one could do, burning though the body's supply of air as the heart and organs demanded more and more energy and exertion.
...He also tried to remind himself that he technically couldn't die and met with significantly more resistance on that front. Swimming and breathing he knew. Immortality not so much.
Matters weren't helped by the perfect dark he encountered whether his eyes were open or closed, whatever his freakin' sadist of a partner had done to the surface ensuring that no light whatsoever could leak through. It was just a bit more terrifying than the time he had tried to run across the pool covers during a night practice as a dare, torn through one of the shitty things and spent a good minute trying to figure out which way was up and where a break in the material was.
If memory served - and it did because it was apparently both photographic and eidetic now - Emily had been pretty pissed off at him for doing something so stupid, once he'd hauled his shivering and wigged out body from the pool.
Snapping himself out of those useless and completely meandering thoughts the young man placed his hands on the icy covering-
-and a scream along with precious air escaped him, the material so goddamn cold that it hurt, skin sticking to the stuff and leaving his hands stinging and aching as he tore them away with instinctive panic, loose streamers of flesh waving about like the tendrils of a jellyfish.
...NOW he was beginning to panic.
Blindly kicking at the stuff and achieving nothing aside from shooting him further into darkness the teen tried in vain to convince himself that it was fine, that he would live through this no problem...and much like Heshal had said, believing that statement was the hard part, a lifetime of living as a mortal human informing him that he was fucking dead, that water was going to fill his lungs, choke his breath and cause him to retch all at the same time…
And the water kept getting colder too, the ice leeching even the pleasant warmth from the pool as the youth begin to tremble and hyperventilate, common sense dictating that it was fine and that he'd survived death before while his instincts and experience screamed in terror and denial, the teen resisting the urge to sob in distress as he warred with himself-
-and forced his mouth to open wide, sucking down a constant stream of the freezing liquid that caused his body to scream in agony and primal distress, form thrashing violently and brain jumping around in a last ditch effort to live its life.
…
But he didn't die.
Despite feeling like he was trying to throw up an eternal stream of icy slush, like his entire being was under incredible levels of compression...his mind remained, his soul or whatever still untouched and fully aware of what was happening to it.
...Fully aware of how fucking painful and outright terrifying this whole ordeal was, sure. But aware. And with that awareness came the chance at letting his mind acclimate, of beginning to accept.
…
He tried not to think about what that acceptance would eventually turn him into.
"Hmm...been about an hour, let's see how he's doing…"
Quite a number of Limbo's members had gathered, almost a hundred as they all stared at the frozen pool where their supposed leader was undergoing his initiation rite, Heshal having departed to take care of his business a while ago while Celestia herself had taken up position amidst the other onlookers, Shir smirking at the number of eyes present.
They would see for themselves whether her contractor was worth their loyalty for the first time this day.
A wave of her hand and the ice shattered with a deafening CRACK, another idle flick of her fingers retrieving the frozen and iced over form of her contractor as he landed in a limp pile before her, shivering violently as his tanned skin was covered in icicles and had a deathly blue pallor to it.
She was more interested in the face that his bloated gut proceeded to violently puke half-frozen water through, chunks of frozen liquid and blood accompanying the steady deluge as she took pity on him and simply magicked the rest out of his body with a snap of her fingers, the youth continuing to jerk and spasm as the room was silent, only the sounds of his wheezing and leftover gags filling the void.
"So...how did it go? Believe yet?"
One emerald and glazed over eye met the grimoire's, life and consciousness returning to it as he weakly raised a single arm-
-and flipped her the bird.
"You owe me...so many blowjobs…fucking bitch."
Shir began to giggle which slowly turned into full blown laughter, the raucous noise eventually reaching the upper floors as Lance weakly rolled himself onto his knees, ice shifting into water as it dripped from his form as the grimoire kissed him full on his frigid lips, pleased beyond measure at his adaptability as the rest of Limbo offered up a few whistles and cheers before getting back to what they were doing.
Yes, it hadn't been perfect - he'd still retained many of the trappings of a human body rather than just ignore the entire ordeal as he was capable of doing - but as Shir'Atath gazed into his distant and unfocused eyes she could see the truth of the matter without a trace of a doubt...he knew he was more than human.
Celestia couldn't help but smile at the scene below, feeling a small ball of relief go a long way in alleviating the roiling unease this new situation had brought about.
While she regretted the young man's harsh introduction into the reality of his current situation - although she supposed she may as well start referring to him as her betrothed - it did much to ease her worries as he proved capable of moving past his human mindset, slowly regaining his feet and wringing out the water from his clothes as best he could, still trembling with either cold or leftover adrenaline.
"The question is...will he be able to maintain it? Well begun is half done but this is only the start of his trials. Rumors already abound of the return of the Fourth Avatar outside of Limbo and it will only be a matter of time before Shir'Atath's friends and servants will wish to test his mettle...never mind that she may just decide to send him off to awaken them early, merely to accelerate the process."
The elf sighed, giving the young man a contemplative look as she thought, "Maintain that forward momentum, Lance Jacobson. If I am to be your mistress, concubine, spouse or whatever term shall be used to describe our relationship then you will need to convince all of Limbo of your strength. Absolute loyalty demands nothing less than the best from the one who will command it."