Hey hey, issa me. I know I've been gone for a while, so sorry on that bit. But imp back, so heyo. Been writing my fav story (The Chosen God) over since when I fist made it, I was close to leaving, so it was super rushed, ergo the typos and strange pacing. so here is a parallel, a much better work if I do say so myself. Same storyline, but I would say an improvement of the original, since I know know where I want this to go. so enjoy, and more will come soon1
-CorrodedVortex
Hell, a cavernous realm of blazing fire and searing brimstone. Amongst the lakes of magma, tunnels of ash, pillars of metamorphic stone, creatures of the underworld reside.
Demons, subhuman chimeras with batlike wings and twisted horns, fly amongst the heat and ire they call home. They land on the walls of their obsidian towers, which jut out of the hellscape like colossal talons, clambering up the deep black structures with claws of their own. Their hoarse cries and shallow moans emit from their teeth filled mouths, saturating this lovecraftian scene with the noises of tortured souls, as they go about their day.
Amongst them, are creatures of the higher realm, that have since fallen prey to the underworld's wrathful magic, and transformed into hellspawn of their past selves. Magma slimes, cadaver colored bone serpents, and bats that spew flames from their pores, wander about, seeking out any unattended flesh to snack on.
It's been this way for thousands of years, nothing that goes beyond the bounds of rhyme or reason, all one chaotic symphony of wandering lives and disgruntled cries.
But something has changed, and if nothing is done… then Armageddon will come.
A roar, one that could rend mountains, and chill a hero to the bone, splits the moans and groans in half, echoing off stalagmites and towers, shaking the very ground to the point of being divided asunder. The demons know the call, and it sends them reeling into their obsidian towers, flocking away like a startled murder of crows. Even the bats and slimes, with what little intelligence they have, flee the scene, and everything goes silent, nothing but the bubbling of flowing magma.
Then he comes.
The God of the underworld, Slayer of Cthulhu, King of all flesh. He comes by many names, but the sight of his glory could make one drop dead from shock. A wall of living flesh, pulsing and bleeding, rolls over the underworld, moving in a tidal wave of bloodshot eyes and snapping teeth. Tendrils of veins spin in circles around his gelatinous form, his thousands of eyes flick every which way. Mouths from all sorts of creatures open and close, as if this behemoth needed to breathe.
As he passes over the obsidian cities and magma lakes, onto the ash mountains and across the Great divide, he moves earnestly, despite his appearance, he's quite troubled at the moment. He spots his target through a collective gaze, his castle that sits high up on a cliff face. It's skewering hellstone obelisks and large burning halls hold no life, he barely comes to it in his free time.
As he reaches it, he begins to pull in his form, flesh and bone alike folding atop one another, compacting down, until a boot-covered foot steps down on a jutted out landing pad, followed by another.
Andrew continues his pace, the last of his true form slinking beneath his slightly tanned skin. He wears an olive green shirt, with dark denim jeans, and even a green baseball cap, which stuffs about half of his messy chestnut hair out of sight on his head.
It's the form of the first human Andrew assimilated when he first arrived in this world, up above on the surface. Back in those days, humans dominated the globe, with no other intelligent life to challenge them. How far they have fallen, at the same level as the dwarves and goblins. Nothing more than simple creatures for Andrew, the whole lot of them.
He has taken a liking to this form though, it makes getting around less grandiose.
He walks through the halls, not taking time to glance at the paintings and ornaments that decorate the walls. The hellstone bricks kick up embers as he walks, the walls constantly look like they are melting. It's his domain, but he doesn't feel safe, even here.
He reaches his throne room, a solemn area that is circumnavigated by stained glass windows; the top half of the room removed to give a good view of Hell's ceiling high above. Trinkets and ornaments of every kind sity idly on their expensive stands, designs cover the floor with a mirage of the planet.
And finally, at the back, rests his favorite chair, a lavished seat bedazzled with gold and gems. It looks out of place, just the way Andrew likes it.
He takes a seat, letting one of his ape shaped hands hold to his forehead, trying to relax so he can get his collective thoughts in order. Only recently has he realized that he's let responsibilities slip away from him, and now it's going to cost this world dearly. His news is a dark one, and even now he is still taken aback. So much has gone wrong, this is not what he wanted.
"Well."
He says out loud, messing with his voice to get rid of the blood choked gurgle that utters from his throat.
"Might as well begin."
He places two fingers to the side of his head, calling out to his fellow gods, wherever they may be in the world.
Vic Halla Sunt Leonidas.
He knows he won't need to wait long, so he slips his cap off; messing with its bill until the first roar splits the smoke choked air.
Andrew takes a glance up, catching sight of two massive hands, each missing everything except bones, that forcefully grip onto the rims of his throne room. A commotion of clicking calcium and a low growl emits as the elongated arms and floating skull of an ancient God enter the room, it's cavernous eye sockets and eternal frown stare at Andrew with an equally emotionless look.
The skull spins, arms and hands curl into it, and it shrinks drastically, taking on the shape of an old human, topped with a red hat and a white beard. His ragged clothes match the crimson red eyes he sports, and the grin he gives Andrew could say a thousand words. The air around him wavers as the magic spell dissipates; Herald slips off his hat, and holds it close to his chest as he kneels.
"I have arrived, by your request, my lord."
Andrew can't help but smile to see his old friend again. He waves a hand out, as if passing the conversation to his previous role model.
"Herald, how goes your pet project?"
The old God shifts, looking off as if experiencing a sweet memory. "Very good my lord, humans seem drawn to dungeons, they can't stay away." He turns to Andrew, showing some bleached teeth. "It warms my soul when I meet the adventurous ones, especially when I get to tear them limb from limb." Andrew can't see why Herald would ever find joy in the massacre of creatures, he's always so gentle with his pet human. He also found a hobby in decorating his dungeon, from what Andrew can tell, the man is just bored.
"Indeed." Andrew answers instead, catching sight of something moving silently toward them from the ceiling above. "Oh good." He states, crossing his arms. "Our princess has arrived."
A clawlike branch slams into the ground, missing Herald's head by a few inches. It anchors itself, tethered by a mess of vines and leaves. A second one latches onto the wall, then a third and fourth, until a massive flower bulb with a color that doesn't match the underworld in the slightest practically hovers in, a small opening in its petals stare at Andrew like an unseen eye.
It morphs all the same, and a dryad shaped goddess lands light as a leaf, her smooth and pale face wrinkles in discomfort as Celestia waves a hand in front of her face.
"My lord, I don't know how you can stand this heat, it's revolting!" Andrew hasn't seen her for nearly 80 years, and the first thing she does is complain. Celestia never changes.
Herald cackles to himself, still kneeling at the throne's feet. "Strange coming from you, you're hardly wearing anything." Celestia, with skinny vines for clothes, answers with a swat to the back of Heralds head, kicking some of his pale hair over onto his wrinkled face. It's funny to Andrew, to think about what he has now. The two gods before him are both older, he grew from his humble hivemind looking up to them. Now he stands above, atop a peculiar throne. Everything has changed.
By the time Celestia kneels, the ceiling above cracks. A long chain of corrupted monsters falls like an airborne worm, transforming before it hits the ground. Eladon lands in a stylish pose, the silly feather jutting out of his deep blue hat matches his eyesore for clothes that Don his body like a cloak.
"Eladon has come to your beckoning, my lord." Celestia scoffs as she lays her eyes on the corrupted God, they have a bit of a past. "Nobody missed you." She retorts. Elaborate swings on a heel, flipping up his hat a little as he addresses Celestia. "Well my my, my dear." He flashes a grin, Celestia returns it with a cold sneer. "Aren't you looking revealing today." "Same as ever, tunnel rat." Andrew raises a hand, and they quiet down. Eladon joins at the knee, he doesn't remove his hat. All four gods are in attendance, so it's time to get this over with.
Andrew forgets his cap on his throne's armrest, standing up to walk past the Gods. He couldn't dream of staying still any longer, pacing feels more elaborate. His mind is full of thoughts, memories plague his decisions. He's shifting through solutions to their problems as he speaks, finding that he hasn't come up with an answer and he's now run out of time.
He's had some ideas, but none of them look any bit viable. As he moves by the three, he takes note that Celestia and Eladon raise to their feet a little too eagerly, it's only Herald that takes his time, slipping his hat back on and turning to watch the lord of the underworld. He moves slower than the other two, Andrew can't tell if it's intentional.
He could convince himself it's because of Herald's age, but Eladon and Celestia have always seemed so distant, Andrew has his suspicions.
But whoever gets to take top spot doesn't matter at the moment, if something isn't done, then they will all perish.
"There is a reason why I called you all here." He starts, he can sense their eyes on him as he walks. "I wish it was in better circumstances, but we have a problem."
Andrew wheels around, his hands held behind his back. "Cthulhu has reawakened."
That does it, Andrew can see easily from here that each and every one of the gods are affected. Herald's eyes go wide, Eladon stutters on whatever he was whispering to himself, and Celestia stares straight at Andrew, a cold hatred spreading into her expression.
"What!?" Eladon cries, breaking the line they had to storm up to Andrew. Despite the dire circumstances they're in, Andrew is still the lead God here, and it ticks him off that the weakest of the four has decided to make a move. So Andrew let's a little bit of himself out, steaming and screaming flesh spill out of his right shoulder. Three tendrils shoot out, each tipped with mouths of dagger like teeth. They latch onto Eladon, biting deep. "Ack!" He yells, and Andrrw lifts him high into the air, before sticking him back next to Celestia. The teeth let go, and tendrils reel back in Andrew's shoulder blade. Eladon winces at his wounds, and a small corrupted creature squeaks out a hole in his neck. It's screaming, having been cut nearly in two from Andrew's mouths. It makes a mad dash away, Eladon weakly tries to reach out, calling the escaped part of him back. Celestia's face splits, opening like a flower. From the darkness of where her cranium used to be, a claw ended vine launches out, snatching the creature and tugging it back. She devours it, before stitching her face back together again. Herald flicks Eladon in the ear, he seems to be the only one who can keep the two in check. "Did I say you can move?" Andrew asks, letting venom seep into his voice. "I am still in charge here, I don't want any more of this rebellious act." Andrew stares Eladon down, who's just starting to regenerate. "Are we clear?" Purple fog leaks as the wounds seal up. The pain leaves his face, and his gentlemanly act has diminished. "Crystal." He says.
Andrew slowly walks back to the three, his chocolate colored irises scanning over each and every one of them. "I'm going to spare you the details, but Cthulhu's Cult has been working in the shadows, and they're working to resurrect him as we speak." "I thought they were exterminated." Celestia says flatly, her green attire doesn't seem the least bit affected by the sweltering heat. Demons peek in on the gods from outside the colored windows, daring not to say a thing as their onyx eyes watch eagerly. Andrew points at himself, before scanning over everyone with a single finger. "We have become weak, we were not made for this world." He draws a thumb across his throat, darkening his gaze. "In the condition we're in, we will be decimated, it won't be the same as last time." Celestia speaks up, catching a gaze from Herald. "If a bunch of humans are resurrecting Cthulhu, why not we snuff them out?" "Yeah." Eladon joins in, and Andrew can immediately tell Celestia hates taking a side with the sniveling worm. "If he's not truly alive yet, then we can stop them." "You think I haven't already tried!?" Andrew roars, a bit of his real self reverberates in his barely human voice. The two gods step back in reflex, Herald finally decides to speak up. "Hold your tongues, our lord obviously has a plan." Despite his anger, Andrew has a pang of guilt. He looks to Herald, trying to give his best expression of thanks, but he feels the walls closing in. They are much too weak. This planet, though great as it is, didn't have magic originally. It has taken the gods eons to shape it to their liking, and it's drained them aggressively. The souls of good and evil within Andrew feel spent, he's had to suck so much magic out of them just to terraform this planet's core into his realm. The lord of the moon and stars will be fresh, while his four former comrades turned enemies will have felt the test of time. The cult has spread far and wide, their ranks swell like cancer. There's no stopping them, and who they hope to bring back from the dead will surely kill anyone and everyone in his path. Time is running out, there's no stopping the flood. The best Andrew can do is build a strong enough wall.
An idea, though insecure and laughable, seeps into his mind. He thought about it a few minutes ago, when playing with his baseball cap. But he threw the idea away, it's foolish if not desperate. But if it works, it'll be their Savior, he'll be this world's hero.
So Andrew nods to Herald, hyping himself up and choosing his next words carefully. "I have a plan, but I will need all of you to help." Whether they trust him or not, they all eagerly wait for his idea, today has been rather stressful.
Andrew lets his whole arm transform, piles of flesh spill out of his shoulder socket. It pools on the ground, as bones and muscles spasm and twist. From the pile, an object procures. It swells in size, making the flesh around it expand like a bubble, before it pops, spilling blood everywhere. The human is left lying unconscious on the floor, as the flesh seeps away around him. Covered head to toe in thick mucus, he doesn't show any signs of moving, he's been in a coma for thousands of years.
The gods look down at him, unquestionably confused. "Food?" Celestia says eagerly, her face splits down the middle as thorn filled vines crawl out of the cracks. Herald grabs her face, stopping it from opening any further. "You gluttonous fool, wait for our lord's answer." Andrew looks over the human, as his arm reattached to his body. The sleeping ape still has his clothes from when Andrew first devoured him, a strange blue jacket with a black undershirt and a length of fabric tied around his neck. His pants are the same color as the blazer, with a strip of leather fastening it to his waist. His feet are covered in pointed leather shoes, laced tightly and neatly. His face is angular yet soft, with a strong jaw and hard set eyebrows, matching the light golden color of his blonde hair. A prime specimen, tall and graceful, but still more muscular than the average peasant. "This, is our answer." Andrew states. "We will create a new God." There is silence, Celestia seems conflicted on whether to laugh at Andrew or yell at him, Eladon just looks at Andrew like he's a madman. Herald looks displeased, like this is not what he signed up for. "May I ask why." Herald states, he holds no smile.
"This human is a rather peculiar one. When I devoured him during the Handshake, there was this strange aura about him, like he's something more than a human." "So what?" Celestia snaps, her braided green hair whips about as she shakes her head. "You think it's special because it tasted bitter?" "Surely this is not your answer, my lord." Eladon says the last word mockingly, Andrew expected this reaction.
"We will die with just four, we need another to settle the score." One of Celestia's eye twitches. "This isn't poetry, this is real life, and I'm not about to stand against our ancient enemy with a blasted monkey watching my back!" Andrew raises his voice right back, knowing that the only way to win an argument with Celestia is to match her tone. "It's our best chance, if you let your own feelings get in the way, then we will all perish!" Eladon rambles on about something, but nobody is listening, the sleeping human seems rather out of place amongst these bickering deities and this grandiose palace. "Maybe, we don't need to perish!" Celestia jams a finger into Andrew's chest. "If you will just think for a second and get your head out of your a-"
"ENOUGH!" Herald bellows, stomping one foot onto the floor. Despite his frail form, Herald is the God of the mountains, and he can move one as easily as pushing a stone. With his strike, a noise of thunder booms, a shockwave kicks everyone in the chest, and nearby obsidian towers break and collapse. The ground shudders for a long moment, the demons have fled the scene yet again. Celestia backs away from Andrew, sparing a disgusted glance at the human. Eladon unravels from his shielded position, fighting to get the terror out of his spineless body language. Andrew isn't phased by the tremor, he's actually quite relieved. If Herald wasn't on his side, ruling would be a whole lot harder. "I don't like it either, but if it's our lord's idea, then we will follow, blindly if need be." Andrew can't thank this old God enough, he turns back to the human. "We will give him blessings, and a weapon worthy of the status of deity." They reluctantly obey, and the four make a circle around the human. Eladon goes first, holding out a hand. "I give the blessing of regeneration." Red magic spills out of his hand, falling down and seeping into the human. Celestia. "I give the blessing of magic." Herald. "The blessing of strength." Andrew is last, as the orange magic spills, he brings out his own hand. "I give the blessing of… immortality."
The other gods react, but they don't say anything. It is a very gutsy move, and it definitely shifts the hierarchy of gods. Immortality has only ever been in the hands of the strongest God, giving it to this human makes him a target to the other three. But Andrew will defend him, even if it means breaking the weak trust he already has. When it is complete, Andrew procures a sword of flames, which billows out of it's hellstone grip. Herald procures his sword, a blue metal blade that drips liquid. Celestia brings out a sword of thorns and leaves, lively and sleek. Eladon's sword is as violet as his heart, which pulsates a power of corrupted realms. They combine them, pieces fling off the swords, magic swirls about as the chunks slam into each other, combining as light nearly blinds Andrew. When the deed is done, a truly demonic sword almost as long as the human is tall lowers to the floor, sticking up like the tower's outside. It's taken on the hue of dusk, a color only found on the edge of night and day. A chimera of energy leaks from it, the air around its razor sharp blade vibrates with intensity. Celestia strokes her fingers across the sword, reeling back when her senses flare. "This shouldn't exist." Andrew picks up the sword, surprised at how heavy it is. "Then we did well."
The gods make their way to the surface of the world, a realm of lush grass and towering trees. Distant snow capped mountains break the horizon, the sun slowly rises as a new day begins. In this early morning, Andrew positions the new God against a tree stump, laying the purple sword up next to him. His hardened face slackens as the morning rays warm the skin, and he looks like a cuddling baby. Celestia and Eladon stand a little ways off, still in earshot but definitely far enough to show how they feel about this decision. Herald stands just behind Andrew, his red hat takes on a fiery color in the sunrise. "So, my lord, what is the plan?" Andrew turns to face him, raising his voice so the other two can hear. "You will all go back to your own realms, the new God and I will visit you shortly." He takes a glance back, scratching the back of his hairy head. "He may be one of us, but he's still human, and my mind alternating techniques can only do so much." Andrew straightens his posture, using his commanding voice. "You are all dismissed."
Once the gods are gone, Andrew takes a seat, watching the morning sun rise higher and higher, until it clears the horizon. With it comes a cool breeze, which makes the leaves rustle high above on the trees. Andrew doesn't get here often, he has forgotten how peaceful it is here.
His plan has set in motion, there's really no way of turning back. This is the path he's chosen, now he'll need to see it to fruition.
The new God stirs from his long slumber, his eyes open for the first time in eons. Sapphire blue catches the light like actual gems, and a null mouth utters age choked words.
"...Hello..?"