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Xisuma was an old, old man.
That in and of itself wasn’t unusual- the majority of hermits were extremely old, and the magic of their universe allowed the centuries to blur past for anyone lucky enough to find themselves a player.
But Xisuma was…a different category of old. Old from a time before there were trees besides oak. Old from a time when the Ender Dragon didn’t exist.
He shared that distinction with a few other hermits. Hermits who'd been there for the beginnings of the world, for the pervasive issues caused by the Old Gods.
Xisuma was there for the purges. Hell, he’d helped. The purges of the last of the Old Gods, the ones that Notch had used to shape the first few worlds.
…Which was part of the reason nobody talked about that jackass anymore.
They’d called in the Slayer to help them, initially. But the old man was busy, so Xisuma had stepped up. He’d been allowed the use of his super shotgun- a rare privelige.
It wasn’t hate that drove the eldritch horror hunters. It was desperation. One person with a copy of the Necronomicon could unleash unimaginable terrors on the worlds around them. They could get possessed, and spread the taint farther and farther-
The cults had to be stopped. The Eldritch beasts had to be sealed in the void. Notch’s folly had given them a universe, but it would have taken everything away were it not for the intervention of…oh, so many people.
He remembered one of those purges like it was yesterday. The one hunt where he’d hung up his shotgun and drawn a line under it all, refused to participate in the slaughter any farther.
They’d been on the world for weeks, hunting through the endless forests for the last few cultists. This world’s worship had been…strange. Instead of idols, they’d found bodies. So, so many bodies. The world had an open door policy, luring in unwary travellers from the Hub with a promise of vanilla survival with no PVP. People who just wanted a relaxing place to live flocked there by the hundreds, little realizing that it was a trap.
Xisuma had found temples stacked high with soulless shells, dispatching the lesser voidlings snacking on them in darkened corners. He’d found cultists, raving mad from the unholy visions and the mere sight of their gods before them, charging him with axes and swords.
He’d seen things that would drive a lesser man insane.
And still, still he hunted, until finally he found himself stepping down a hidden staircase under a dirt hut, walking into a cathedral of nightmares. The centre of the cultist’s activities. The main hub that he’d been searching for.
He fully expected the place to be full to the rafters with cultists and horrors. He fully expected to find himself fighting for his life, or having to abandon his mission and retreat to the hub.
He slammed another two shells into his shotgun and shoved the door open with a bang.
Huge stone ceilings towered overhead, black ichor dripping from the ceiling. Corpses, de rigueur for this sect’s faith, were stacked in piles all around the room. But these bodies looked different than the others- a huge bloody gash in the back, which all had a giant X carved through it.
Almost like…failed attempts.
He stepped past the pews, keeping an eye out. His footfalls were heavy against the blood-soaked carpets of this drafty room.
All was silent, save for his footfalls against the fabric.
There was an altar, low and made of stone, at the head of the temple. And sprawled across it, facedown, was the body of a young man.
All around the altar lay cultists, their robes soaked with black blood. All of them dead.
When you gave up your soul to the Old Gods, there was no respawning.
Then, the man on the slab groaned.
His eyes blinked open, and he looked around the room.
“Hello?” he asked in flawless Galactic, the words echoing with magic in the air around them, “Is…someone there?”
Xisuma had his shotgun up and trained on the man without even thinking.
He needed to blow this hellspawn away and sanctify the area so it couldn’t come back. He needed to- he-
…Wait. What the hell was it doing?
The…man…sat up slowly, letting its legs dangle off the slab. It wasn’t armed, just wearing a simple loincloth as it looked around the room.
His eyes were wide and full of wonder.
“Oh,” he whispered, “Oh, it’s…it’s…it’s so beautiful…”
He was still speaking in Galactic. Every word plucked at the air around Xisuma, sending his helmet HUD and his inherent magical abilities into a tizzy. This…thing…was powerful, whatever it was.
So why was it acting like a child?
It’s gaze landed on Xisuma, and it stared.
“Oh. Oh, you’re beautiful too.” It said breathlessly, and Xisuma lowered the shotgun slowly.
“What are you?” He snapped.
The man looked at its hands, and started to wiggle its fingers. A wide grin spread across its face as it flexed them.
“I am…I…” It closed its eyes.
The next words out of its mouth were in English. Heavily accented English, like it was struggling to spit the words out properly.
“…I am…Keralis.” it said, “I- I sink.”
Xisuma lowered his gun all the way and stared at him.
Stared deep into those soft, warm, eyes.
Were they…glowing, slightly?
“You can’t be.” He said flatly, “That name is- that- it doesn’t exist anymore.”
Keralis blinked at him, his face falling.
“I don’t exist?” he said, “I’m confused. I heard these people calling my name? They’ve been calling and calling for so long. I got so tired of hearing them chant, so I…”
He shrugged, and started to poke at his chest. His face. His neck. He looked up again at Xisuma, tilting his head in confusion.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing at Xisuma.
“That’s…that’s me?” Xisuma said nervously.
Keralis nodded.
“I…this is so…” He closed his eyes. “Now, see, now that makes sense? But I can’t smell you or hear you. But then, I do this-“
He opened his eyes again.
“- And now there’s a…a…” He looked down at himself, then back up at Xisuma.
“Is that what a mortal is?” he asked.
“Are you blind?” Xisuma asked, almost rhetorically.
“Yes.” Keralis replied, “But…also…no? Is this what that is? Not-being-blind?”
“Seeing. You’re seeing.” Xisuma said slowly.
Keralis’s face broke into a wide grin.
“Seeing. I like that.”
Xisuma considered his options.
Keralis…or the thing containing Keralis…was exactly what he’d come to this world to kill. To cast back into the void, where it belonged. To seal it there, for all eternity. So maybe, someday, they’d all be safe from the ravages of the Old Gods.
But…
He knew what this man was containing. The Blind Idiot God. And it…sure was living up to its name.
It was almost…childlike. Rubbing its fingers against the stone. Asking silly questions-
“Why is you different than that thing you’re holding?”
“I’m green. This is a gun, and it’s grey.”
“Oooh! Very pretty!”
-like a child would.
Something that powerful…was at his mercy. And it didn’t want to hurt him. Because if it did, he’d already be dead.
Or worshipping it.
He looked down at the cultists, seeing the tell-tale burn marks of a forcible soul extraction. He could taste the remnants of the sealing spell in the air- a binding so deep that nothing would be able to root out all the edges of the Elder God’s consciousness from that body.
Xisuma bit his lip behind his helmet.
He could…
He could bring it with him.
He could keep it safe.
He was an admin. He could show it…kindness.
Maybe if he showed it kindness…it would learn kindness? He’d never had the opportunity to try before. The Void-spawn always seemed so violent, so angry, so….lost.
This one was different. Like a summoning ritual gone right, for once.
It seemed so…open. So harmless. So…
Curious.
“Who is you?” Keralis asked with a big grin, his English rather patchy and scrambled.
“My name is Xisumavoid. Xisuma for short.” Xisuma said slowly.
“Izksooo… Ick- Soooo- Oh, I don’t like that. I’ll call you…Shishwammy. How’s that? Shishwammyvoid.” Keralis had a big grin on his face, and Xisuma smiled.
“Alright. We’ll go with that.” He said, offering a hand, “Come with me.”
Keralis got up off the table, and stepped towards him.
Their fingers interlaced, and through his armour, Xisuma could feel the cold chill of Keralis’s body.
“Um,” Xisuma said, “So, uh, first lesson. Humans are actually pretty warm. Is…is there anything you can do about that?”
“Warm?” Keralis said, “What is…warm?”
Xisuma blinked.
Oh, right. The Void. Duh.
“Warm is…is…”
He pulled out a flint and steel and lit one of the pews on fire.
Keralis’s eyes went wide, and he reached out to touch the flame. Xisuma grabbed his hand and yanked it back before he could burn himself.
“Alright, look. You’ve got a human body, and you’ve got a human brain. Why don’t you start by rooting around in there and looking for…anything?” he said.
Keralis frowned, but nodded.
“I’ll try,” he said softly, closing his eyes.
There was a few minutes of nothing, and Xisuma shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. This was a bad idea, the more he thought about it. This was a bad, bad idea. He’d have to take this guy directly to his private server, without going through the hub. He was pretty sure this was the last contaminated place on this server-
-and here he was taking the contamination with him.
Except…
Xisuma let his shoulders slump.
There was something about this…man.
The longer he looked into Keralis’s eyes, the more he wanted to help him.
“Who is-“
And then Keralis said a name. A man’s name, Xisuma noted dimly.
He never was able to remember what Keralis said. The name slipped through his memory like grains of sand through his fingers.
“He’s dead.” Xisuma said, knowing in his heart of hearts who that name originally belonged to.
And knowing with absolute certainty that that man was never coming back.
There was a long pause. Memory was a physical thing, stored in chemical traces in the brain. Servers would encode those patterns, make them firmer, harder to lose to accident or injury. But it was a physical thing- not a mystical one. Not like the soul itself.
Keralis opened his eyes.
“I remember something…about…friends.” He said, looking Xisuma in the eyes, “I want a friend. Will you be my friend?”
And well, what was he supposed to say? To this newborn creature, stepping into a whole new world, offering him a hand. Unarmed, unarmoured, and making no move to kill him?
Xisuma took the hand, still looking deep into Keralis’s eyes.
“Yeah. I’ll be your friend.” He said, “Come with me, Keralis. I have something to show you.”
And as they stepped out of that hideous temple and out of the dirt shack, into the light of a rising sun, Keralis’s wide eyes went even wider.
All around them, stubby oak trees. A blue sky, orange light on the horizon as the sun climbed into the sky. Warm air on Keralis’s skin. Birds chirping in the trees, a stone path before them. A cow wandered out of the trees and across their path.
“IT’S BEAUTIFUL!” he shouted, and despite himself, Xisuma smiled.
As the other man walked forwards, eyes wide with awe, he couldn’t help but notice the slit in his back.
Tainted black and leaking fluid.
“I never want to be blind again,” he whispered, “I- I- I love this. I love…I love everything.”
Xisuma pulled the catch on his shotgun. The two shells popped up from the auto-ejector, but since they hadn’t been fired, they didn’t go flying.
He pulled them out and stuffed them in his inventory.
And he left the gun broken open as he stepped close to Keralis.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Xisuma said, “Come with me. I’ve got so much to show you.”
Keralis nodded eagerly and took his hand.
Xisuma activated his communicator to pull them out of that world and into his private server.
And far, far below, in the depths of the void, a shifting mass of cataract-stricken eyes and pulsating flesh smiled with hundreds upon hundreds of mouths.