Isekai'd, My Posterior!

Happy past Valentine's Day! For those of you with a special someone, I hope you had a swell time. For those of you without… join the bloody club.

William had half the mind to bolt from his position on the floor as more than a few dozen empty skulls stared down at him like a Shinigami from the dark recesses of the Eighth Hell. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the talking bone heap was aware of his urgent need to snap another Homeward Bone and vanish – no pun intended.

"How contrite of you." Nito said dryly, making the undead frown. Was he… reading his mind? And if so… how?

"I believe the term 'Gravelord' needs no introduction. Like everything else within this Catacomb, you are also, to a degree, dead. It is only natural that I can sort through your thoughts and memories. And what curious ones you possess…"

William blinked dumbly. Sub-consciously, however, he was doing his utmost to bury everything he knew under a sheet of thoughtlessness. A good way to block a mind-reader is to erect mental walls for them to fight against, or that's what he had read in a Skulduggery Pleasant book once. He just hoped such fantasy would prove useful in this situation.

"Cease this feeble rebellion. I was not called the first of the undead for nothing. Millenia spent tinkering with the range of my own abilities have availed me much more than simple insight into another of my kind. Here is a mere fraction of my intelligence." The Lord of Death spoke before growing silent.

And then suddenly William's head was ablaze with a paralyzing euphoria. In an instant – which also felt like an eternity – he relived the many memories of his past. From the beginning of his life, right up until the moment he, Pinwheel and Leeroy had parted ways. He felt everything, emotions, taste, touch, sound, and even dark and light itself. It was an immense refreshment of his own data that made his mind swirl like a whirlpool.

He went back, remembering small and momentous things, like the time he had learned how to read, what pain from the back of his mother's hand felt like, the joys of listening to that special radio station he could only ever get signal for an hour every day, and the distress of drinking milk a few days past its expiration date. He uttered a gasp, and suddenly he could feel the warmth of his sibling next to him as they camped out in the woods, the coldness of rejection as the girl he liked turned him down before taunting him in front of his entire school. He fell deeper into reverie, to the sheaves of paper he had stacked up for a book he would never end up publishing, and soon tumbled through the rainy pathway from which he had gotten mugged at that one time in college.

Burning light scorched his spine as he ran through endless desert, trying to reach car that had stripped him bare and left him for dead before the sandy browns and bleached whites turned obsidian, pulling him back into the cool void that was Nito's chamber.

The hold on his mind suddenly stopped and William fell on his hands, bile running freely from his mouth as his body spasmed, clenching his gut tightly as he regained his bearings once more. He heaved three more times until nothing, but hot, sour air left his lips and he gasped, gulping air into his lungs as if he had been kept underwater for the last six trillion years and overnight stay.

"Wha… What did you- ack!" William dry heaved again before calming himself and wiping his sweat-drenched face with the sleeve of his leather garment. "What did you just do?" That had been extremely uncomfortable. Now he knew what Steven Strange had gone through the first time he had visited that bald chick in yellow.

"Do you expect me to re-explain it as if you are a buffoon or is your question simply a means of affirmation?"

The silver-haired undead shook his head after a moment. Nito was right, he was looking for affirmation. He wanted to believe that such a spectacular and terrifying occurrence had not just happened. But such hopes were better left impaled on spikes like the rest of his futile dreams.

"No," he said finally, "I understand what happened. You looked through my life's experiences."

"It's a pleasure to speak with someone that possesses at least half a brain." Nito replied. It almost sounded like he was sighing. And although the insult burned against his skin like a hot poker, William refused to retort with a counterstatement. He may have been a brave idiot, but he was by no means suicidal, especially not when he was standing before a being that could kill him and prevent his Darksign from activating. So, instead of acting like an angry dipshit, he tried his hand at acting like a cocky dipshit.

"So, was there a reason you decided to knock me out, drag me to a dark and secluded area before molesting my brain?" he attempted to force a smirk onto his face but with the whiplash he had received from being mentally probed with the skeleton's magical meat stick, all he could manage was a mild sneer.

"You're quite spirited for a man that was forced to relive his greatest and worse memories from scratch."

"Well, when you know you're gonna die no matter what you say, and by the hands of a conglomerate of bones no less, the courage just comes on you in buckets. Besides, couldn't you have bought be some freaking dinner first? Its common courtesy, ya' know."

He heard a soft rumble echo around the cavern. Or perhaps it was actually rattling around in his head? Even so, he heard it – like the amused chuckling of a wise old man.

"Your fleeting valor is admirable. Perhaps I shall let you live a few more moments after all." The Gravelord shifted slightly in his coffin before growing still. It was then that William felt the air shift and he gulped. The Death god wasn't up for jokes anymore.

"The orb you possess," he said and pointed a five-inch-long finger at the writhing ball of darkness that spontaneously materialized in William's palm, making him jump. "Why did you not absorb it when you had the chance?"

William turned his head to the side defiantly. "You read my mind. You should know the answer better than I do."

"Memories are eternal; thus, they remain in the past. But thoughts are fleeting, which is why they occur in the present. I may only read that which is either recorded in the past, or briefly noted in the present."

"Fancy way of saying you can't properly read thoughts."

"Whilst your pluck is amusing, my patience is not infinite. Answer me." Nito commanded and the taunt died on the tip of his tongue. Again, the skeleton was right. His trademark bluffs and deceptions wouldn't work when he was already dancing the razor's edge. Trying to piss off the god of Death was a surefire way to get his ass impaled by those screaming crimson blades that held dead accuracy – no pun intended… again.

"The thought of ruling over the dead doesn't really entice me. Not many dead chicks around to have myself an old-fashioned harem. Besides," he ran a hand through his hair. "who's to say I would even survive if I did crush it like a humanity sprite?"

The Gravelord scoffed. It was odd hearing such sounds from a being with no flesh. "You speak to please me, not to satiate the truth."

"Oh, I'm telling the truth, alright. There's no point in me trying to become the next Pinwheel, not when I have more important things to do."

"You mean reuniting with that Astorian soldier?"

"Damn straight. Gotta repay my debt to the blonde idiot for rescuing me from my cell somehow. So, I figured the best way was to help him in his undead mission."

"Hmph. Do not patronize me. To shirk your duty as Gwyn's true successor is understandable, but to leave it in the hands of an incompetent knave is purely blasphemous." The Gravelord rose from his coffin this time, peering down at William as if the mere mentioning of Oscar being 'the one' was an insult to his existence. "Why do you continue this doomed errand when we both know how much good will come from you simply accepting your role and doing your destined jo-"

"I am not the Chosen Undead." William sneered, cutting Nito off. "I will not be this world's savior, and even if I were, it would be a useless task. You know exactly what I mean, even if you didn't peer into my memories of this cursed world."

Nito said nothing for a while, before a great sigh was heard and he collapsed back into his coffin.

"You are correct. Your extensive knowledge was, if anything, confirmation of the impending oblivion we all face. As it stands, the other great nations that follow after Lordran's fall are both teetering off devastation whilst also being non-existent simultaneously. The tree holding all life within its broad roots is being chopped down as we speak. It will only be a matter of time now."

"You know all this, yet you still choose to engage in pointless conversation?" William raised a curious eyebrow.

"How ironic, coming from the lips of the reluctant hero."

The undead hmphed and looked away. How he was even managing to talk about the end of the world as if he were its catalyst was another story altogether.

"You don't seem fazed by the fact that you're just an imagined character."

Nito shrugged. "I've lived too long in Death to be any more than monotonous. If your memories hold the honest truth of this world, what would defying it truly do?"

William's eyes widened. That was a surprisingly accurate answer. Nice to know he wasn't the only one that went with the flow. Most of the time, that is.

"In any case… I'll be needing my strength back." The Gravelord said before motioning to the spinning black orb still in the undeads hand.

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." He said and held his palm out. As if the spherical vortex of Death magic were sentient, it began to drift toward the prone form of Nito in thin strands of dark. William watched them, like black silk slowly being weaved by an invisible hand. Steadily, the strands formed into streams, before the entirely of Nito was submerged in his stolen magic.

A sudden breath of wind rushed past William, flipping his hair up and he watched as Nito released a satisfied moan, his bones creaking loudly as he placed a hand on the edge of his coffin.

The undead noted the make-up of the Gravelord, a funny yet perfect amalgamation of various animal and human bones assorted to give his arms and legs a slender, but thick build of limbs – capable of moving leaps and bounds effortlessly. Then there was his body, a mass of other bodies that formed a lopsided dome which served as his chest. It looked quite heavy, like a gigantic ball of rubber bands.

He hunched over as he stood, his legs bending halfway to accommodate his size, his arms dangling to the sides uselessly. He looked quite plain as he was, his infamous miasma having been distributed throughout the world to sustain the cycle of death and decay.

Interestingly enough, it was only after the last few dregs of the energy in William's hand dissipated, that he saw a vibrant black and purple swirl surround Nito's neck like a velvety collar, before it just fell – covering his shoulders, spine, torso and arms in sleek dark matter. It was startlingly different from the garb he had possessed in-game, but William agreed that this was better, cooler, and way more dope.

He nodded to himself in appreciation of the Great Lord before him. Now he was worthy enough to be called a god.

"So… what now?" William asked, taking a lighter tone than usual. Nito turned at his question and the undead prepared himself, "You gotta head out and tell the others or something?"

He wasn't stupid. Well… not that stupid. He knew he wasn't out of the woods just yet. Truthfully, all they had really done was talk about returning the Gravelord's stolen power and how William had pulled a Lothric before being mind banged. Also, the undead had cheated Nito's petulant servant out of succeeding in his mission. With these factors laid out like the unflattering body of an obese truckdriver on an operating table, he had to admit that his odds weren't looking good. Maybe he should try using his Darksign to return to Firelink whilst Nito made up his cranium on how best to kill a scrawny, lying undead with literally no control over his bladder. No, really, he had wet himself again after watching Nito look all cool and shit. He wanted to say it was a happy wee-wee, yet at the same time he was astounded that he could reload his golden water hose in the space of five minutes – he wondered if all that Estus had caused it?

"My comrades are naught but relics to me. Perhaps once I would have run to alert them of this development, but those times have long faded. Now they mean less to me than you do."

"Glad to see you hold me in such high regard." The undead bit back dryly. Nito simply adjusted a skull on his body.

"Indeed. You are not the Chosen Undead, or so you claim to say, which makes you expendable."

"You say that, but your initial job is to kill the Chosen Undead once he makes his way here after passing that annoying-ass pathway filled with baby skeletons in the damn water."

Nito regard his words for a moment. "Ah. My little sentries. Cuter than the rest of my forces, aren't they?"

"In any case, the worth of the Chosen Undead and myself mean basically the same thing if you're gonna kill us anyway." William huffed and scratched the back of his head. As much as the Gravelord said that he was going to kill him, he was taking an awfully long time to do so. Additionally, what was with that question about him not absorbing the dark energy when he had the chance? Was he being tested or something? He hoped not. He never did well with tests, the words always jumbled up when he read them whilst under duress.

"Then why not put yourself in the position to be the Chosen Undead, nevertheless? You are in my domain, after all. Might as well take your chance to obtain my Lord Soul, just like the game states you should – however feeble your efforts might be."

William raised his brow, quite impressed. Nito was already a super sharp tool in the toolbox, with or without gleaning out memories of the Dark Souls Universe. But for the skeleton to adapt to that information and speak about it casually enough to sound like he had designed the layout himself, was truly remarkable.

"Yeah, I'm good. Besides the fact that I'd be walking into the duty I'm actively attempting to avoid; I don't want to make it any easier for mah boy Oscar when he comes down here himself."

"You make it seem like you could actually win against me."

"My prime skill is bullshitting. As razor sharp as your intellect is, you can't predict an idiot's moves, can you?"

"Perhaps. However, wouldn't the prospect of lightening his load be your true goal as his companion?"

"If I do that, he'll just get axed by a grunt on his way toward one of the other Great Lords. Gwyn was a bastard that didn't mess around when he said he wanted his successor to be prepared for the Throne. And I personally have no desire in climbing the ranks to earn said title – I'm just a fraud that wants to fool around."

The Gravelord harrumphed. It appeared such an answer had pleased him somewhat. That made William smile. He always knew Nito was the more down to earth of the Great Lords – this just went to show that his measly faith had paid off.

"Then in light of your obvious waste of my time, I have decided not to kill you." Nito remarked, the sharpened Gravelord sword hanging from his wrist sinking back into his body. William sighed out in relief. "What use would killing a jester be in the first place?"

"What use indeed." The undead laughed.

It seemed he had dodged yet another bullet. That being said… it didn't mean his suspicions were any less cleared. After all, if the Lord of Death could sift through the memories of other undead, read their thoughts and possess a near perfect control over black magic, as it were… would he also possess enough strength to summon a being from another world directly into his own? Nito basically held reign over every race that had ever existed in the Dark Souls Universe, as his field of expertise was directing and manipulating souls to the underworld; which meant he held sway over billions of human's that had come and gone. Quite frankly, Nito was more closely related to humanity for how close the soul, sanity and various magical crafts were that related to the area of undeath. In that strain of thinking, could he had brought William here on a whim that the turned undead could change the passage of time? And if so, had he done so before, or after Pinwheel had robbed his coffin?

"As I've said before, your thoughts are most curious…" William snapped out of his brainstorming and stared at the Gravelord. "But what allures me is your ability to treat every individual you meet as the perpetrator of your situation. I would kill for a deeper understanding of how you tick."

A droplet of cold sweat made its way down William's neck. He didn't like where this was beginning to go.

"Y-You heard everything I was thinking, yes?"

"As clear as the night sky."

"Then…" he took a breath before controlling his growing unease. "Then were you the one? The one that brought me here?"

You mean the one that… 'Isekai'd' you?" Nito asked, a quirk to his amorphous voice. William merely nodded.

"Interesting phrase. But no. I possess immense power, enough to crush both Gwyn and the Quela if the need arose. You have a clue as to how strong the element of Death truly is."

Another nod from William. He was glad the Gravelord hadn't summoned him, yet that still placed an itchy quilt of worry upon his shoulders. If it wasn't the doing of a Great Lord, who's power could topple kingdoms, then who could have brought him here? And just how dangerous were they exactly if they could do what the Gravelord could not?

"But to bring a human from another plane of existence to remain here permanently, and with a physical body too, is a stretch I could not hope to grasp at present. Whilst you did happen to become branded with the Darksign, I had no hand in your sudden undeath, meaning that I was not aware of your existence as one of my underlings." Nito walked back to his coffin and sat down. His cloak softened the impact of his pelvic bone against the sleek stone resting place. "Whoever pulled you into this space and time is either stronger than the Great Lords or commandeers a gift that no other being does. Either way, the fact remains that you are still stuck here. And unfortunately, you can never return. Best to live with it, instead of grieving for nothing."

"Well, don't worry," the undead clicked his tongue and threw his hair back over his shoulder, "I'm not worried about going back home anymore. I already thought about not being able to return. Quite honestly, it doesn't seem so bad to stay here. I mean if all else fails, I can just dig a hole, go to sleep and wake up as an unkindled."

"Hm-Hm-Hmm. At least you've planned ahead."

"You mentioned that you couldn't Isekai me at present. Does that mean that somewhere in the future, you might try to do so because of another outlandish reason?"

The Gravelord shrugged. "Who knows? But… if that does end up happening one day, what is it you'll do?" Nito gaze at him blankly, his elbows resting against his knees as he stared at the undead.

It was a good question. What would he do if Nito was the cause of his misery? It wasn't like he could go batshit crazy and try to kill the guy – right now he was weaker than a ten-year-old Gohan that fired all of his power into a puny shot that never really hit its mark. What good would he be against a reinvigorated Gravelord?

"I…" he stared, making Nito cock his mountain of heads to the side. "I… don't know."

"I see." Nito sighed out before looking at him again. "Then I've lost interest in you."

He raised his long index finger at him. "Begone."

And suddenly the samsara of pain William had experienced before had begun anew. The undead shouted out in alarm before his body spasmed and he fell, writhing on the filthy floor as tendrils of webbed shadow grew around him – encasing his form into a tight black ball.

He gagged, feeling an empty cold surge through his veins as his eyes managed to peek between the webs quickly obscuring his vision. He saw Nito, his regal hand curling into a fist, before opening, displaying a blinding light that made William shut his eyes again as the gaps in the orb around him closed up.

Eerie silence filled his ears as he suffered in eternal pain, not knowing whether he was standing up or sitting down. Eventually, he felt something soft and warm touch his spine and he turned, silver hair whipping at the orb around him.

He blinked through the pain and suddenly the black ball trapping him no longer existed. He blinked again and the pain he was weathering vanished completely. He panted, lying there, his eyes slowly adjusting to the assortment of colors spontaneously filling his vision. Where was he exactly? And what had Nito done to him? More importantly, why had Nito done that to him, and for what purpose?

He got the answer to his first question when a familiar voice decided to speak.

"By the gods! Where is that awful stench coming from?" the Crestfallen Warrior growled, looking around Firelink before his gaze rested on William.

"When did you arrive?"

William shrugged, his body still on the floor.

"Just now, I guess. Where's Oscar?"

"Gone to speak to that overweight cleric. Tell me, is that smell coming from you?"

William rose to his feet on shaky knees before nodding and pointing to his soaked crotch.

The knight in chainmail replied by jerking back, plugging his nose and glaring at the tired undead as he limped toward the pool of water in the dilapidated shrine.

"As if the Astorian's crotch didn't smell enough, now we have two of them. Just my luck." He muttered as William brushed off the comment and reached the pool, falling into the clear water with an exhausted sigh. He had had enough dealing with Nito, he could handle Cresty's bitching after he cleaned off the piss and sweat coating his being like a lantern of sink to ward off monsters.

Now that he thought about it, he felt oddly warm despite being imprisoned in a black ball of cold death for who knows how long, what was up with him? And why did his left palm seem to resonate with said warmth more than the rest of his body?

Curious, William raised his left hand and gazed into his palm. The great flame that materialized on top of it a few moments later made him lose his shit completely.

"Nito, you son of a bitch!"

The Gravelord, meanwhile, was busy laying down in his coffin, laughing his fleshless ass off at the undead that he had just sent packing with his Lord Soul.

"As if I'd allow that sad excuse of a knight to be Gwyn's successor. Get off your pathetic high horse and do your job, you lazy sow."

I made this one longer than usual too. Damn, and I was trying to ease up with the lengthy chapters for a change.

Before you slam me with Lore from Canon, let me explain why Nito is still alive. In this rendition of the game, Nito regained his lost power (being necromancy or black magic or whatever fancy name you'd like to call it) from Pinwheel. I made it seem as if the Gravelord was drastically weakened as a result of having that power stolen. However, when he regained it, he was able to move normally again, and the cloak that once surrounded him grew once more. In essence, I made it such that he was still able to exist without his Lord Soul because the element of Death was still within him, making him significantly weaker but still able to live as the master of Death that he is – just without as much power as he should possess… because he's soulless now. Kinda. Besides, this is a parody. Not everything I write has to make a hundred percent of sense… right?

I'd love to go into depth, but this chapter is already 4K in length. So… ja ne.