(Limbus Company – Inconvenient Welcome)
Thousands of voices screamed in ecstasy as the physical shape of the entity became more apparent. At first glance, one could easily mistake it for a human being, until the gray reptilian tail twitched into activity, waggling like a rattlesnake's. A pair of tiny gray horns protruded from the neatly combed black hair, right above a pair of pointy ears; all perfectly placed under a dark blue cylindrical hat, like a doll in a doll house. It wore an orange and yellow stripped two-piece suit, red necktie and a blue handkerchief in the right breast pocket.
To search for any physical feature quickly proved to be a waste of effort for both Braylon and Alter. A pair of clownish red shoes and white gloves hid its hands and feet. A comically-large pair of glasses hid most of its face, save for an ugly nose shaped like an eagle's beak and a white goatee and twirling moustache that somehow managed to hide the already pale lips that were ever so eager to split into a wide, toothy grin. The invisible crowd clapped harder as the being raised its hands, only dying down when it flapped its fingers like an orchestra following the orders of a conductor.
"Splendid! Superb! Magnificent! Outstanding! Exceptional! Dazzling! Glorious! Magnolious!"
The entity continued spouting a string of adjectives, its body twitching and convulsing with each new word, until it reached a point where words were replaced by a high-pitched squeal of excitement as it hugged itself, its fingers gripping its arms with such violence that they should have torn through the fabric and draw blood.
Braylon glanced at Alter, who had an equal look of disgust, fascination and horror as he did.
"Hey, that thing…"
"A demon, yes. A strong one at that."
"How do you know?"
Alter looked at him as if he were an idiot.
"You mean you don't know the telltale sign? The ones that successfully imitate a human form are the most dangerous ones you can meet. It means they still retain some of the volition and yearnings they always had. Greater resemblance, greater danger."
"I see."
Their attention returned to the demon, who stopped squealing and froze in place. Its performance ended as quickly as it started. The arms dropped to their respective sides and the entity gained some kind of unnerving composure, as if it were a totally different person from few minutes ago.
It bowed towards them.
"I am a Demon Prince, representative of the Sin of Artisan's Pride. You can call me "the" Toymaker."
When its proclamation failed to elicit any kind of reaction from the mortals, it stood back up and coughed into a fist.
"Technically, my actual name would be "He Who Plays", for I am the first player in all of Creation. Indeed! I invented all of the games. Therefore, I also invented the first interactions between mortals. Everything is a game! The role you play in the family, the work ethic you follow, the chat you have with your friends. Art! Equals! Game! Actor! Equals! Play! I am both the art and the actor! Ueeeeeeee!"
And just like that, the whole persona crumbled like a house of cards. The entity broke down into giggles and howls as if it heard the greatest joke in the world.
"Hey, that doesn't look sane to me."
"Don't provoke him!" Alter shushed back, "Remember, he wasn't the only one who heard the call of my sword. But he's the only one who bested all the others to get here."
"Sword? You mean that weapon you used earlier-?"
"Oi, you two."
Braylon and Alter recoiled as the demon's deadly serious voice, who burst into laughter as soon as he regained their attention.
"Hahaha! You should have seen the look on your faces! Hahaha! As if I would ever be offended at a play happening right in front of me."
"A play?" Braylon retorted, "Does all of this seem like a play to you?"
"But of course! Like your little duel before I came. Everything is a play. A play on words, a play of principles, a play of might. Play! Play! Play! All of it!" It twirled around and readjusted its glasses. "I don't blame you for not noticing, though. It takes a craftsman to get it. And who could understand it better than me. Me! One craftsman to rule them all! Bwahahaha!"
It bowed again, left hand placed on its chest, its hidden gaze never leaving theirs. The cheerfulness died completely, replaced by a quiet, icy whisper.
"Indeed. I am the greatest artisan there is. When a sculptor, maddened by a vision, grabs his chisel and begins to hammer away at the marble, forgetting about his family and friends, his bodily needs and even his sanity, until his fingers crack in pain and his joints creak in protest, it is to me that his work is consecrated. When a starving painter wakes up one day, angry at the world that refuses to acknowledge her greatness, picks up a brush and makes the greatest work her meager talent can come up with, it is from me that she asks for a blessing. When a smith takes that hunk of metal and refines it again and again, until he makes a sword that will later slaughter hundreds, it is I who whisper in his ear. When a woman, tired of her role of being the quietly suffering housewife, grabs an axe and decapitates her annoying neighbor, disembowels her abusive husband and crushes the heads of the infant children, it is me who will christen her with her new role as a crazed murderer. No matter what, who, where or when, it always comes down to me."
Multiple shadows grew from both behind and inside of the many circus tents. Their shapes gave them away; demons, subservient to the one with the highest authority, were quietly waiting on the sidelines, waiting to attack en masse as soon as they got the order. Braylon looked down at Alter, at his pitiable state, weakened and short of a limb. There were simply too many for him to take them alone.
"Hey," Braylon whispered, "stupid question, but can you fight?"
Alter looked him in the eyes. The icy glare was one of determination, at first, quickly breaking down into exhaustion.
"Our melee put a dent on my resources and drained my strength. I need time."
"Dunno how much time I can give here…"
They heard a loud booming noise as two shadowy figures approached the Toymaker from his sides. To his left, a giant corncob with cartoonish hands and feet, wielding a tommy gun of comical proportions, a bandolier with corncob-shaped grenades, a green helmet and a pair of googly eyes. To his right, a humanoid with a goat head more realistic than its wooden stick body, its hands hidden inside two sock puppets; one of a demented-looking unicorn and one of a red pitbull smoking a cigar.
"Let me dispel your thoughts right away!" the demon startled them back to the situation, "You don't stand a chance against me in combat. You are welcome to try, though."
More monsters seemed to lurk in the shadows, surrounding them. Squeals, laughter, the sharpening of blades reminded them very quickly that they were in the demon's domain. If he wanted, he could very quickly dispose of them without lifting a finger himself.
"I see you gentlemen are more willing to listen to reason now. Jolly good! I can't remember the last time I had a decent conversation."
"You!" Alter turned to Braylon. "Don't even think of conversing with him! He –"
A pair of dark green vines erupted from the darkness to Alter's right, wrapped themselves around him and slammed him to the ground. Braylon, ready to take action, stopped the moment he heard a dark chuckle behind him. A colorful box was tossed at his feet. Some kind of mechanism popped off inside of it and a birdlike jester jumped out on a metallic spring. Before Braylon could blink, the puppet fished out a scythe from its mouth and pointed it at his midsection.
"Youngsters these days! All so impatient, all doing before thinking. At least hear me out before you turn me down, please? Pretty please?"
"As if!" Alter retorted, struggling to free himself. "Don't listen to him, you! To talk with a demon is to form a relationship with it. Think! Do you really want to open yourself to something unknown like that?"
"Smart boy, that one!" the Toymaker pointed at Alter, "Unfortunately for both of us, you don't have much of a choice." He turned to Braylon, with a smile that only someone who never heard of the word could make. "I'm sure you are actually willing to hear what I have to say, am I right? Right?!"
Braylon looked down at Alter, a bead of sweat dropping down his cheek. Reluctantly, he turned to the Toymaker and nodded. The latter exploded into shrieks and flailing of limbs.
"Aaaaaah! I knew it! Knew it! Knew it! Knew, knew, knew, knew, knew, knew, knew, knew it! It! It! It! Iiiiit!" His demeanour shifted again into more brooding and serious. "What other answer could we expect from your ilk?"
A quick clap made the animated toys retreat back into the safety of the crowd. The Toymaker coughed in his fist. Braylon had a feeling that the pair of hidden eyes was staring deep into his soul.
"Entertainment for later. We have important business to discuss. You may be wondering what could a Demon Prince ever ask from a pair of hapless fools who play heroes all day?"
"Not really."
"Exactly! You can't do anything for me! There is nothing, nothing, you can ever do that I can't. But we are in troubling times, you see, and delicate situations call for delicate hands. Delicate, fleshy, squishy, frail hands! Like tiny little chopsticks made of bone and meat."
"You mean us?"
"Yeeeeeees! You, the intrepid! You, the vengeful! You, the bloodthirsty! You will go and do something for me. Something of no importance to you, but something of great, unimaginable importance to me. Do this teeny, tiny job for me… and I will let you go. I will let this world go. Scratch that! I'm willing to sweeten the pot, to throw in another gift for both you… but that will be discussed later, hehehe."
"The answer is no, demon."
Alter replied as soon as the Toymaker stopped talking. He stood up and stared back in defiance.
"Are you ready to fight?" Alter asked Braylon, annoyed that his warning went unheeded.
"Are you?"
"Yes."
"You don't look the part."
"I can do with one hand. It's an interesting change of pace, for once."
"Wait a minute!" The Toymaker screeched. "How unexpected, how unpredicted, how unplanned! Just what are you doing? How can you throw away a perfect chance like this? Have you no shame? Have you no heart? Is your common sense gone?"
"I'm not interested in any sort of bargain with you. Now begone, demon! Leave this planet or face judgement!"
The temperature dropped considerably as the Demon Prince's face seemed to shift into a threatening stance, without actual physical changes present, except for a barely perceptible twitch of the lips, themselves impossibly hard to detect, like a thin line carved on the surface of a wax candle. All of the noise around them suddenly died down, making Alter and Braylon painfully aware how they, with the exception of the demon and his toy army, were the only people present in the whole circus world. One of the Toymaker's hands readjusted the large glasses, but the duo felt a sudden urge to take a fighting stance and be prepared for the inevitable attack. The cheerful, shrieking tone dropped by a few octaves, now bearing eerie resemblance to a human's actual way of speaking.
"Say, what's Anastasia been up to lately?"
Braylon saw Alter jerk as if bitten by an animal. He gnashed his teeth together, staring at the Toymaker with hatred, yet his legs trembled and had trouble holding him in place.
"Matter of fact." the demon continued, "What's she up to now? Yeah… She doesn't have a clue that you are so far away from her, does she? 'Course, you don't bother with it because you are that kind of guy. Out of sight, out of mind. But you already have your sights on someone else, don't you? Yes… I can smell it all the way from here."
The demon's raw disdain could be imagined dripping from its mouth. Such open hostility made no changes on its expressionless mask of a face. Braylon felt his stomach turn just from thinking about it. The lurking creatures sensed his emotions and twitched nervously, ready to pounce the moment he would make the wrong call.
"She thought she was doing "that" to save at least one life from impending doom. She would've liked to have a child with you, a royal stable boy who ensnared her heart. But you were just not ready, were you?! After all, you are, what, twenty-six? Imagine the joy in your little princess' heart when she finds out her sacrifice was used and abused for someone who went on a little cosmic trip to gather heads that look even slightly similar to him. All for some perceived wrongdoing."
Alter swallowed a lump in his throat, obviously restraining his own temper from bursting out of control. He looked at Braylon for a second. The latter felt as if he was seeking some kind of understanding for his engagement with the demon.
"I know what you are trying to do here and it won't work. Whatever decision she made was her choice and her choice only."
"Oh, I think we both know better."
"Stop it…"
"Don't you think you should have been there with her when the world came crashing down?"
"I said stop it…!"
"I'll tell you what you could do. You could shove a hand in that magical bag of parlor tricks, find a way to get back, get in that castle, hug her tight, whisper in her ear that you love her, that you would go to Hell and back for her and that you would do everything in your power to cure her of the affliction that plagues her and her people and that you would be happy to have a child with her. You could do all of that, "Alter". You could turn your life into sacrificial love and you could be happy for the rest of your existence, knowing that she would wait for you in Heaven."
Alter swung his head in disbelief.
"I can't do that."
"No? Why not?"
"It's… it's complicated."
The Toymaker burst into violent laughter, clapping his hands furiously.
"That's my boy! That's him!"
"I don't understand…"
"Oh, I think you do, "Alter". It's just a problem. So easy to solve, isn't it?"
"That's not –"
"You seem to have a knack for beating the dead horse." Braylon interjected. "Let's hear it now. What about me?"
The Toymaker's head snapped towards the Vault Hunter.
"What about you? Did you forget your history? The Creator creates and we destroy. And we do all of it through all of you. We always have. Especially through you, Alter. Can you imagine the suffering you have caused on Pandora? Ah! That got a reaction. But you didn't think about your home a lot, did you? I can answer your questions, Braylon. Just like I can answer his. In fact, I'm willing to sweeten our deal with even more toys at your disposal, all to prolong the misery of your enemies."
Alter could see the same hope burn within the Vault Hunter just as it did within his own soul. The false promise of unobtainable knowledge, delivered in exchange for a favor, was a curse set upon their being. But what knowledge could this demon impart that could improve his situation? Moreover, what kind of favor would require both of them? The Toymaker, seemingly aware of their questions before they could be asked, spoke up with barely restrained excitedness.
"Do you think I'm evil, "Alter"?"
"Beyond measure."
"Do you think my victims thought I was evil?"
"Why is that so important to you?" Braylon interjected.
A grin spread across that plastic face of his. An actual grin, from one ear to the other.
"It's not about you or him. It's about everyone. All of us against all of you. But something is rotten in the state, you see, and the conflicts over interests are ever-increasing. Our goals align but our methods do not. That's why you are going to perform a little sabotage for me. You two will go on a trip through the astral plane and bring down five commanders, thus demolishing the plans made by my adversary. Hold your end of our bargain and I will hold mine."
"And if we refuse?"
"Then you will be stuck in here while I turn this world into yet another factory of mine. I'm raring to try out all the different ideas that have been bouncing in my head. Eternal damnation does that to a person."
The two mortals shared a look that expressed far more than a conversation ever could. Reluctantly, they agreed to the bargain for the sake of Remnant. In reply, the Toymaker had once again turned into his earlier persona. The circus world around them returned to its flashing lights and festive cheers.
"Then the deal is maaaaadeee! Wooooo! My expectations! My predictions! My assumptions! My conjectures have all been blown away! Bravo! We will begin right away! Ah! But I won't let you leave like this. You need to be in your best so that you can face the worst."
At the sound of the Toymaker's clap, one of his minions appeared in front of Alter and Braylon in the form of purple fireworks. A miniature heart plushie with buttons for eyes spawned into life, dancing and sprinkling them with a multicolored dust, thus rapidly healing all of their injuries. It then jumped into the air and swapped places with a different-colored copy of itself, wearing glass beads for eyes. The animated object produced a loud hum before vomiting two large chests filled with all kinds of items needed to replenish Alter and Braylon's stash, including ammunition and phials filled with all kinds of fluids.
"Now that we have taken care of the provisions, it's time to give you one last item."
A winged nutcracker toy descended from the sky and gave Alter a silver ornate disc with a pentagonal ruby stuck in the center of an engraved pentagram.
"That artifact is linked to your targets and will bring you to the realm they reside in. You won't be able to leave until you killed the target's physical manifestation. Once defeated, use that thing to trap their essence."
Alter gave a look of uncertainty to Braylon, who nodded in response. The former gulped, looked down on the ruby and tapped it. The surface of the gem lit up as the empty space between two points of the pentagram turned liquid, reshaping itself to show a place resembling a swamp. By pushing the ruby into the disk, the artifacts surface turned bright orange as a chorus of demonic cries overwhelmed their mortal senses. The last thing they saw was the circus world slowly fading into nothing.