Chapter Text
“O’ Holy god. What is my final trail for my beauty?” The man asked as he didn’t dare gaze at the god.
The Great god only laughed before speaking slyly.
“Your final trial is of your own choice. Pick well, young man.”
…
Avery twitched and mumbled in his sleep. Unrest falling across his features in waves despite his sleeping form and body. He was asleep, at least on the surface. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t talk nor get out of the bed. But he could shift and turn and move and squirm around his bed, helpless and pathetic almost. That, and he could think.
He’d been thinking, never really a good sign, but he’d been thinking. About that book. About all the books. About Gale. About N. About the King. About Himself. About Derek. About every single little situation and decision that brought him here. But back to the books for a minute. Gale was… Gale was intriguing to Avery, like a puzzle piece that wouldn’t fit into whatever large rabbit hole he was in.
After all, what organisation would ever want to help him right now. What organisation would know about the King… How do they know Derek? Sure, it could be from his videos or the video that wifies guy made on his world. But that wouldn’t answer anything, most people thought it was just some ARG. That’s it. So why? Unless… unless Gale has more to do with it than they were letting on. It was pretty obvious from the beginning, random books in his head whilst he was comatose. It was all too suspicious to be believable, if they’d seen his videos then maybe they just took him for some naive fool. He wasn’t. He wasn’t as smart as a certain someone but he wasn’t stupid either. He wasn’t.
He had his suspicions, call him an idiot if this is wrong since it’s rather far fetched but, when this Wifies first made the video on his world, he watched it for one, then he looked through the others videos on the guys account and one character stood out to him. The Department of Metaphysical Sciences. The DMS?
Yeah, he knows, it’s a far and far fetched idea. Stupid to think about it really, that branch of the US government is made up, surely? Just for the video, it was all fake. But his world was a video. His world was real. So why would it be so far fetched to say that a suspicious government branch discovered by a minecraft youtuber could also be real? For the guys in that video, if it wasn’t scripted, it would have been really, really real for them.
Well, that was one of his current nighttime dilemmas, the second problem plaguing him from being able to sleep was that every time he shifted too close to the edge of his bed he felt something hard. Not the wall, no. It was a treebark. Rough and real bark. There was a tree inside of his room, either that or he was somehow outside. He was still in bed so either he had an amazing sense of imagination or he was outside and sleeping beside a very wide tree.
He tried to stay still, keeping calm and collected whilst figuring out his next course of action whilst stuck in bed, he tested getting up a few more times, nothing. It was as if an invisible pressurized force was tying him back from being able to even get up. He tried to force his body up, the pressure got worse and worse until Avery finally shot up out of the bed, his breathing laboured and harsh as the air stole whatever breath his lungs had within an instant.
He was a coughing mess, his throat seizing up and growing itchy. He couldn’t open his eyes. Everything was too silent but Avery needed air yet his lungs refused to take any, every time he tried it was as if his lungs repelled it. He collapsed. Falling off of the bed he was lying on and crashing into the grass below, clawing at his throat he wheezed, attempting to speak, he could open his mouth from getting up, hopefully his vocal chords would work.
“I… I wish… To breathe…” his voice was weak and raspy, his body twitching and convulsing before he finally took a breath and air filled his lungs. Avery gasped, heaving in air that was finally being granted to him after being deprived of it. He felt the bed behind him as he pulled his body to lie against it, his heart beating erratically and his chest heavy.
“What the… actually, fuck?” He laughed, curling into himself as the bubbling, hysteric chuckles fell from his throat, he couldn’t help himself, he’d nearly just died. He only just remembered that stupid wishing thing. This was still technically his dream, right? He was in some weird-induced coma and he almost just died in his sleep. “This is so fucking, ugh! I can’t do this anymore…”
He went to rest his hands on his face.
…
Where was his face?
Avery could feel his mouth, everything below his nose was still there, but he couldn’t feel anything about his nose. It didn’t feel like slime, it felt like… flesh, bone, something else that was wet and sticky that Avery could feel start trickling down his still intact-skin. He felt his breath quicken, the heartbeat that was only beginning to settle began thumping wildly and violently. His hands came up to where his eyes would be, the left socket, empty. Nothing. Actually, it was just a hole, he could continue pushing around 2 fingers through until he came into contact with something oozing a slick-type substance and pulsing underneath his finger tips, he ripped his hand away as soon as he felt it, a tremor running down his spine as he felt the right socket.
There was a momentary pause before what he could only assume was his eyelid came underneath his fingertip. He poked at it a few times, hissing in pain as the flesh was manipulated. “God damnit, what the hell is this?” Avery muttered in a mix of anger and agony, he was in immense pain right now but what was he supposed to do if he couldn’t see? He sucked in a large breath before he began his next course of action: ripping his eyelids apart.
He took three of his fingers on his left hand and placed them underneath his eye socket where skin was still intact, one finger by where his nose was previously, one in the middle and one at the end of his eye socket. He placed his pointer finger and thumb on his right hand together and pinched his eyelid. “Okay, don’t think about anything Avery… you can do this.” he whispered to himself, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t about to forcefully separate his skin.
The first tug brought upon a sharp and excruciating jab of pain through Avery’s skull. The singular attempt caused his head to spin as Avery let out a muffled grunt of pain but he couldn’t afford to stop here. He continued, using his fingers and pulling in opposite directions as he felt his skin tear and snap underneath his fingers. His throat was burning with every scream and groan he let out, he was ripping his flesh apart, it was bound to hurt.
“Augh!... SH-shit!,” he shrieked as the flesh was finally pulled apart and his eye was revealed. He was bleeding. Profusely. His eyes were filled with blood and little scraps of skin from where they got torn and ripped during the process of trying to be able to see again. Finally being able to get a good glance at his surroundings he looked around to see he was in a forest, similar to the once he was previously in but with slight differences.
For instance, the sky being black with no stars or moon or anything at all. He couldn’t really look around without his head threatening to explode. Previously he was able to rid himself of his headaches by thinking of Derek, he doubted that would help him right now. He held the bed in his attempt to stand, carefully letting his legs adjust to holding his weight again and before hobbling forwards to the dirt path before him. He only took one step onto the path before the world around him turned to black once more, like when he completed a trial. He blinked. Turned around to find himself staring at an identical him. It looked at him. He looked at it.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” Its (His?) voice was lower than Avery’s own, more somber but was laced with a hint of urgency. Avery didn’t get a chance to respond before his hand was taken by the other version of him. It was warm, alive but this whole situation was shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.
“You’re me?” Avery asked after a good moment of confused silence, his jaw slightly agape.
“And I’m you.” It replied before pulling Avery along, further into the sheer black space.
“What is this? And why is half my face missing?” Avebury finally said, cautious but insistent. He needed to milk answers out of this place as much as humanly possible. This other him, it didn’t seem like the King. Avery knew himself, even if this Avery was different from himself, he could feel that it was him, not the King.
“Hmph, that’s a very long story.” It said with a slight laugh before a new space appeared, his dads house. The living room of his dads house specifically. Avery didn't think he’d ever see it again after moving states. “Maybe, you’ll want to sit down for this. It won’t make any sense, maybe not yet. It’s a… a long story.”
Avery felt like those words were vaguely familiar. But his body moved before his mind could catch up with him, sitting down on the sofa across from the other version of him and staring. He was still in shock. He was still in pain.
“Okay, so, Uhm, your face- I had to disguise you as one of those weird forest Zombie things. You know, the one that looks like Caleb? Just to make sure the King didn’t find out you were here yet. If I didn’t he’d be able to track the location of your soul and that wouldn’t do us any good for trying to meet up without it knowing.” The other Avery said with his head in his palms. He looked at Avery and smiled, a real grin, “You may not know me, but I know you. I gave myself the name Nirel. I go by N. Pleasure to meet you.”
Avery’s world froze for a good second. N. As in, the person who wrote in bold and the person who got him to that story book that depicted the whole trial situation he’d found himself in? Okay. What the fuck. Avery was in shock, how could he not be? He was staring at a man with his face and voice who is claiming to be him whilst also being the mystery author that helped him in the library. Even though all these revelations were sudden, this was definitely a little anti-climactic when it came to meeting N.
“You’re the..”
“The Bold author, yeah, I know. Not the most dramatic reveal but it’s definitely a reveal. You’ll have a lot of questions I’m sure, but I’ll answer them one by one. One, Yes, Gale’s lying to you but they aren’t something the King conjured up.” Nirel said with very clear clarity and conviction. He was looking straight into Avery’s soul as he spoke, he was being truthful. Nirel was doing that habit Avery had of twiddling his thumbs when he had to talk about something serious. He was being honest.
“Okay, well I’d figured that for a while now, let me ask you this, what’s going on. The dreams, the coma. Just explain everything, promise I won’t interrupt.” Avery said as he leaned back into the seat, he was getting comfortable, he might as well, Nirel had already said that he was going to be in for a long story when he finally got to the explaining part of all this.
“Yeah, well, I think that instead of explaining this in a traditional sense, it’d be easier to just, show you, you know?” Nirel laughed as he looked at a picture on the coffee table. The one Avery remembered was of a camping trip with his parents, on this coffee table was a picture of… Derek? He was at the beach, younger but definitely Derek’s face. He didn’t get a chance to ask questions before he felt himself succumb to sleep or at least some form of unconsciousness.
But the world didn’t go dark, no, it became bright, he saw himself reading Derek’s letter on that fateful night a few weeks ago.
“As I said, it’s best you just let the narration speak for you… someone made this in advance for us so it’s my first time seeing it as well.” Nirel’s voice rang out in his head faintly. Avery was going to reply when he heard a new voice in the memory(?).
…
It was just as Avery finished reading Derek’s letter did he break down. An ugly thing truly. But it was all one could in such a situation of despair and sorrow.
...
(”Hey, why does this guy kind of sound like that one guy, Mads Mikkelsen? Man, I loved Hannibal!” Avery exclaimed before Nirel groaned, “Well, I asked them to not use their actual voice, now watch!”)
...
His body moved sluggishly and mimicked a zombie, his body landing harshly against his bed, tears still watering down his face, staining his pillowcase as he curled into himself, a pathetic sight-
…
(“Hey!” Avery suddenly pipped up, interrupting the movie-like-scene playing out before him, “Is this guy just going to insult me the whole time?!”
It got a laugh out of Nirel who only hurriedly spoke, “Just let it play out idiot!”)
…
-really. But he was mourning. The loss of a friend. Of someone who could have been more, had they only had time. His wallowing only let sleep consume his being quicker, the exact moment was 12am, January 1st, just as the fireworks were going off that he finally was claimed by the unconscious. Then he opened his eyes in a flower field.
…
(“Holy shit- The scenery just changed! Is it going to do that everytime?” Avery asked to no response, “tch, rude.”)
…
Above him, Derek. His… eugh… beloved Derek. Avery was filled with joy at the sight of his saviour. But their brief meeting was cut short. After all, the stage hadn’t fully been set yet but as Avery thought he’d woken up, he hadn’t. In reality, his home had been visited with him still peacefully in bed. A few men and women in casual clothing. Under the guise of taking him to hospital after finding Avery;s room a mess and him not breathing, they took him somewhere else. A lab in Manhattan. This was the DMS. The Department of Metaphysical Sciences.
Avery was going through his daily life in comatose whilst his body was being handled and transported by government officials. They’d hooked him up to some odd machinery. Connecting them to his brain and monitoring his activity. Waiting for the right moment.
Meanwhile, Avery was still blissfully unaware in his coma, he’d just asked Derek to go on an adventure when he’d idiotically driven them off of a cliff and they’d found themselves at a rather massive Aztec Temple. Derek had only just seen the dreaded Yellow symbol when he took matters into his own hands, pushing Avery to ‘wake him up’ so he could explore by himself to keep Avery ‘safe’. Avery didn’t take this well, deciding to drown himself in pills in his coma to try and go back.
This didn’t work out how he wanted too, he was met with the field, a good sign, but then he was met with a fake Derek. How sad. Avery decided his next course of action would be to kill the fake, and he did. A wise choice before he was transported to the next arena. His city of Manhattan, he went home, his keys were changed, everything was new. And he watched a fake version of himself and Derk make love. The sight did a few things to him. Induced rage. Jealousy. Longing. Many things for his heart that he was not yet ready to have to face or understand. So he walked away.
He was suddenly taken to a lush forest, he was instructed to not walk off the trail, so he didn't. Keeping strictly to the path whilst pretending all would be fine.
…
(“Wait a minute… what about the Library, Gale- no, the DMS?!” Avery asked, incredulous as hints of doubts creeped into his voice.
“We’ll get to that later, Avery…”)
…
As he walked the forest became twisted and wild. Then he was stopped by a familiar face. It was his friend. Or at least, it wore his friend's skin like an uncomfortable meat suit. It invited him to take a rest and eat. Avery, in his horror, couldn't dare and ended up running for his life, the opposite direction. An inn came into view, empty, he stopped to take a little break, rest, drink, eat, then he went along. A while later he came across another friend. She was basically bones, she offered him to stop and drink, he refused again and kept going. The third time it happened, he expected it to be another coax at getting him to give up, but no, the third friend, they simply told him to keep going. How odd…
He made it to a set of golden gates, opening them he was greeted by a wall of text, a book and a picture of the english alphabet. He figured out what he was supposed to do rather quickly. He could not say he solved the puzzle quickly at all. It took him 10 minutes. The answer being:
‘Song of my soul, my voice is dead;
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.’
He didn’t recognise the scripture. He continued on through an opened door to his left, it had opened after he spoke the phrase aloud. The next puzzle was a painting sectioned into squares across a table. La Joconde. The Mona Lisa if you will. The squares were scrambled up but he could slide them around the canvas but he couldn’t pick them up. Avery was far better at this puzzle. It only took him 7 minutes as opposed to ten. Yet again, if he hadn't stopped to scream in the corner he would have taken less time.
The next puzzle was a series of riddles, some Avery understood, some he looked at and he suddenly understood his high school calculus class that he failed with a 34% in more than the worlds written on the walls.
…
(“Was that a necessary detail?” Avery asked, his voice flat and slightly offended.
“I never told him to say that.” Nirel responded back with the equally un-enthusiastic tone of voice.)
…
Alas, he spent a good 32 minutes trying to clear the room, the only reason he didn’t give up halfway was he’d come too far and had far too much to lose. His fate. Derek’s fate was in his hands right now and should he give up because he was too lazy to try to solve a puzzle, no matter how hard, he wouldn’t be able to rest even when this was over. Because he’d have failed Derek.
The next puzzle, Avery was somehow worse at. Long Math Calculations without a calculator. Great. Apparently, being able to write Java doesn’t make you good at basic arithmetics. The last digit of every calculation made up the code of the door, but the code was random, not in a set order that Avery could figure out. He spent 24 minutes doing math calculations. A decent amount of time. And 39 minutes trying to solve the code. Abysmal.
Though when it did finally open there was only one question on the wall. ‘Why are you still here?’. Avery didn’t know how to answer that question. Well, he did. He just didn’t know how to answer that in words. Unfortunately, I don’t have that information either.
But the door opened only after 52.43 seconds.
The door opened.
He was met with a sight he didn’t want to see. Himself. And Derek.
Well, Derek was lying on the floor, out cold, unconscious-
…
(“Nirel what the fuck!-” Avery yelled, again disturbing the scene.
“Calm down Avery!” N replied back, frustrated.
“Calm down? Calm down? Look at him!” Avery argued back.
“Just do as I say, please, we are getting absolutely nowhere here!”)
…
-but he was breathing, if at all barely. Avery tried to approach, but he was stopped by that other him’, he fought back, pushing the very clearly fake him away. The thing laughed, an uncomfortable sound that rang though Avery’s ears, its spin snapped, it doubled over still laughing before a familiar figure emerged from the things mouth, a black mesh in yellow robes. Avery dropped to his butt, unceremoniously. The King mocked Avery, it was very amused by something. But it was also disappointed. The King gave Avery one final little task, then he’d return Derek’s soul, unharmed and intact. He’d return to the plains of Carcosa, forever banished, stopping his meaningless clinging to Derek’s soul to stay attached to earth.
It’d been reading through Derek's memories, gotten inspired by a mythos Derek particularly liked. The story of Orpheus and Eurydice. Derek was a particular fan of it and the King was inspired. It told Avery, he had to walk in a straight line back through every single trial without looking back once. If he did, It’d take over Avery’s body as his vessel and he’d keep Derek’s soul and physical body locked away in Carcosa. Just to keep the man out of his plans for earth. That was the deal.
Avery, with nothing else to do, accepted, turning around and beginning to walk. As he walked, voices kept ringing through his head. Family, friends… a lot of Derek’s voice. Yet his resolve held high… He walked through the puzzle rooms, back through the forest, back through the Manhattan streets, back into the flower field… The final crossing line was marked by a photo on a table. Of Avery. His Kindergarten graduation day. A bittersweet memory. Yet, before he could cross the maker, he heard footsteps behind him, rushed, panicked, frantic… In his confusion.
He looked back.
All he saw was the world behind him slowly eroding and disappearing. Derek awake and running from it. Then it all stopped. He’d looked back. Inches from the marker. Right before he could have stopped everything, he looked back. Avery only faintly felt when a hand was speared through his chest, it squeezed his heart until it stopped.
He was dead.
…
…
…
…
…
…or was he?
In Avery’s dying moments, he saw a few things. Derek was on the floor sobbing. But there was a blue light. Above it, text. He recognised it. English…
‘Need A Hand?’
Avery only nodded before everything went black.
And that’s how I came in. There is only one way to beat an Eldritch God at his own game.
Your very own temporary helper.
Cthulhu. At your service.
Hastur has been a pain in my side recently and keeps meddling in a world that I made my claim in first. So, I want him out.
The agreement is simple. You get 300 attempts at this. Whenever the Avery of the current round dies, I'd pull a few strings and have an acquaintance in my debt rewind time. The first Avery, or as he’s calling himself Nirel now asked I make this little memory bubble for whatever other pathetic rounds come by. Now that I’ve done my job. Farewell. Don’t disappoint me. It took a lot to get the fates on my side here, fuck this up and I’ll destroy your little world before Hastur can. He’s likely caught onto this plan already, he’s not stupid. He knows everything, so do be hasty.
…
Avery sat up and gasped, his arms frantically searching his own body to make sure he wasn’t already dead. He looked to Nirel who only had a guilty expression. He wanted to strangle the past version of himself. He was so fucking close and the fucked it up. “Are you fucking serous?” He said instead, his fist clenched.
“Look, don’t get mad at me, you’d have done the same. Every one of us has done the same… Just no one has gotten as far into the walk as I did. I was the only one who got to the field.” Nirel immediately retorted, raising his arms in mock surrender.
“Look, that doesn’t explain the library.” Avery mentioned accusingly, “You said you’d explain everything.”
“Well, this is the first time that that’s happened, they uploaded the books into our conscience as they said, why wait until know I don't know. What I do know is that they just want to try capture the King and contain it, however the hell they plan to do that I'm oblivious.” Nirel said swiftly, clapping his hands together and leaning back into his own seat, before crossing his arms and not bothering to go in anymore depth.
“This is bullshit.” Avery said back.
“I’m aware of that, now we are running out of time here. You have 3 more trials to beat… I’ve changed the last question by the way.” Nirel sighed, looking at the ceiling and dragging his palms down his face.
“What?” Avery asked, the confusion on his face obvious and slightly annoying to Nirel.
“Jeez, I talk a lot… Look, the last riddle in the fourth trial. It’s ‘Who am I’ now. Just say ‘Me’. That’ll answer it.” Nirel answered, before standing and helping Avery stand as well. The room turned back to the black void.
“Okay, one last question… What’s with the green goo? … Oh! And… Why didn’t you finish writing the book?”
“One, that’s two questions. Two, the green shit is basically the King learning how to copy your body down to the miniscule detail, when he takes vessels, they tend to morph, and he can’t perfectly replicate them without having to study their bodies first. He’s essentially stealing your skin. You’ll be fine though.” Avery grimaced at that, stealing his skin? Yeah, no.
“And three, I didn’t have time. Should the King find out that I’m alive… yeah, Things would not go well, I can’t be outside the void for even a second and the void doesn’t hold up long in places the King has a lot of influence in.”
“...Okay… One more question please?” Avery saw the look of growing frustration on Nirel’s face, and he sucked in a breath. “Why’d you go for... Nirel? And you also mentioned this disguise works to stop the King tracking my location, how? Isn’t he all knowing?”
Avery only saw the man smile before he was pushed onto the bed he’d come here on.
“The disguise is wearing off; The King will be able to track your soul any second now… Oh and Its literally just ‘Avery’ with the letters shifted 13 times over forwards. Couldn’t think of anything else… also makes it easy to distance myself from all the time loops.. And the King won’t know. Not if this meeting happened all within 1/8th of a second.”
Avery didn’t get any time to retort when he was woken up by Howard knocking on his door.
“Hey kid! Breakfast is ready, you’ll need energy if you’re going to continue onwards.” The older man’s gruff voice came through the door.
“Holy shit…” Avery huffed out before yelling out, “Yeah... I’m coming!”
He scrambled to get himself out of bed and into some sort of presentable state. Today would be eventful. Haah… Gods above help him he was so fucked…
...
Nirel watched Avery from the void. A solemn smile touching his face as he held that picture of Derek, he treasured it immensely, "Good luck 300. For all our sakes.... get this done."