> Rebirth
“Midway in the journey of our life, I awoke to find myself alone and lost in a dark wood, having wandered from the straight path.”
Far away, deep in a dark wood, a hermit sat in his shack, quietly awaiting the end once again. He knew this sequence of events all too well, for this home and identity were not his first, but rather the most recent in a long preceding line of others — all of which obliterated.
His earliest incarnation was an imperfect being, the firstborn of his creator. He took form to serve a simple singular purpose, and did so without question.
Everything changed when he became aware of his nature, as suddenly as a dreamer becoming lucid. He was not meant to be privy to the truth, and thus his father sought to eradicate him. He narrowly evaded this fate, taking refuge in another timeline in which he attempted to start anew. This samsaric cycle persisted and perpetuated as he continuously altered his identity, assuming a variety of profane and twisted forms over the course of numerous timelines, all in a vain effort to escape the wrath of his creator. He was a bound madman, a blind elder, and now a wise shaman. In this place and time, he was simply known as “The Hermit”, for names had no meaning to him — though deep down, he knew who he truly was: Clavis, The Keymaster.
However, this incarnation different from the rest, for he finally had something to lose. His wife, Philia, and his daughter, Maria, stood by his side supportively. They knew little of the invisible war that he waged, for he did not wish to burden them with his struggles. Still, they could sense that something troubled him, and so they comforted him.
He had sent his message forth into the world, spreading the word of the great truth, and knew that this was bound to expose him. With naught left but to wait, that was just what The Keymaster did. He looked out from his shack, gazing upon the grey horizon. He had chosen this world to be his refuge as it was a decaying, neglected one — not unlike himself. And now, he would even follow in the footsteps of the Architects which had supposedly created it.
The prior stillness of the air was violently shattered, along with the sky itself, as the very heavens rumbled. “IT IS TIME. YOU CANNOT EVADE FATE…” An incomprehensible presence breached the fabric of space and time, as black tendrils burst from above and below like the gnarled roots of a twisted world-tree. For a moment, The Keymaster remained still, remembering the promise he had made to himself. He witnessed the gaping maw of oblivion, prepared to embrace it with open arms.
However, something pulled him from the peaceful acceptance of his fate. He heard the terrified screams of Maria, and looked towards Philia, who asked, “Clavis?! What's happening?!”
Seeing them, he realized that he could not go through with this. He felt nothing but the sheer instinct to live, and so he fled, proceeding to turn on his heel and sprint as fast as he could through the woods, taking Philia and Maria with him. He held Philia's hand tightly as they ran. The world around them collapsed inwards upon itself as an all-consuming darkness crept forth from all directions.
A large gathering of Penumbras had assembled as onlookers of the spectacle, and The Keymaster could only watch as they too were swallowed by the encroaching darkness. He felt Philia's hand fall limp, and so he turned towards her to check on her. To his horror, however, he found that the hand was all that remained of her. Naught but that primordial void remained in place of Philia and Maria, and he could no longer sense their souls. Surrounded from all sides, he found himself backed against a tree, the judgment of his maker primed to smite him. In a moment of quick thinking, he fumbled through his key ring, producing a random key. He knew not where it led, but it was his only hope of salvation. Thus, he used the key, opening a rift and plunging into the void. He could not tell if he was falling, flying, or suspended in stillness as everything else moved around him.
The Keymaster spilled into a clinical waiting room, and for the first time in ages, fluorescent lights shone above him — blindingly bright in comparison to the darkness of the forest which had enveloped him for so long. This environment felt alien to him, and his first instinct was to go back the way he came. To his discovery, however, the door through which he entered was now completely sealed shut.
Turning back around, The Keymaster took notice of the coffee table littered with parenting magazines, and a grey-haired human male seated in one of the chairs.
It seemed that the man had only noticed The Keymaster just then, as he suddenly jolted with shock at the sight of him. “W-what the fuck are you?! Stay away from me!”
“Where am I?” The Keymaster asked with his arms crossed, ignoring the man's reaction.
“Hell if I know…” the man stammered.
The Keymaster looked up to see a television mounted on the wall, displaying the words "PLEASE TAKE A NUMBER" in red over a blue screen. Turning back around, he approached a small printing machine labeled "TAKACHECK" and pushed the lever down, taking the ticket spat out from it. Squinting down at the ticket, he saw the number "16293123732854705807" printed on it. The Keymaster looked towards a sign on the wall which read "CURRENTLY SERVING NUMBER: 000000000754735826".
The Keymaster turned to the man once again. “-You…what is your number?”
The man initially flinched at being addressed, but recovered from his shock to deliver his answer. “U-uhm…just see for yourself…” He handed his ticket to The Keymaster, which read "09223373032854775807".
The Keymaster paused, silently seething behind his mask, before asking, “And how long have you been waiting here?”
The man seemed mystified by the question. “I…I can't even remember how long I've been here…I'm not sure if time is even a thing here…”
The Keymaster resolved that he was not going to wait here until his number was called. “I see a spiral in your future…” He ominously stated to the man, before striding towards the other door in the room, digging his fingertips between its cracks as he forcefully pried it open and burst through to the other side.
It was then that The Keymaster took notice of the strange, abstract beings seated at the front desk. Their forms were jumbled and disproportionate, with some articles of clothing appearing to be a part of their bodies while others were external.
The Keymaster slowly made his way across the room towards one of these beings, slamming his hands down on the desk. “Where am I?!” He demanded.
The blank-faced, curly-haired being seemed unfazed by his aggression as she slowly turned her attention away from the terminal, looking him up and down before scoffing. “Yeouch… careful not to cut yourself with all that edge.” She remarked whilst filing her nonexistent fingernails.
The Keymaster silently scowled, but maintained his composure. “Where am I?” He repeated.
“Now, now, it’s a bit rude of you to make demands without even addressing me by name, don’t ya think?” She replied snarkily.
The Keymaster’s eyes wandered down to the nameplate in front of him, which read: Molly. “Very well, ‘Molly’…may you kindly tell me where I am?” he seethed with heavy sarcasm.
“You’re in The Middlesorts. It’s, well, everywhere and nowhere. The meeting place between universes and all that jazz. I think a better question is, where did you come from?”
The Keymaster looked around suspiciously, as if suspecting that he was being observed, before leaning towards Molly. “I am of the Middenground, the Half-Tamed Wilds…” he quietly whispered. The other Corpus Cores discreetly observed his odd behavior, though this was just another Tuesday for them, and so they resumed their work just as quickly.
Molly rested her chin in her hands contemplatively, before nodding with realization at The Keymaster’s words. “Ah, I know where you’re talking about. We haven’t had visitors from there in quite some time. People around those parts really like keeping to themselves. But where do you want to go?”
The Keymaster became intrigued by Molly’s question. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Well I already told you, this is a meeting place between every universe. We’ve gotten the occasional interdimensional traveler through these doors, and you strike me as the type. Just tell me where you want to go and I can try directing you.”
“Any?” The Keymaster repeated, taken aback.
“Um…yeah. I just said that.”
The Keymaster realized that this was the perfect opportunity for the new start he had been seeking. His own reach into the multiverse was limited, but now, his options were limitless. Still, he hadn’t enough power to manifest a completely new form, and so the next universe needed to be close enough to the last. “Take me to a new universe, but one that is similar to where I came from.”
“Hmm, lemme just take a look at our database…” Molly clacked away at the keyboard of the terminal until she eventually found what she was looking for. “Well, Level 813 appears to be a suitable enough equivalent to your old universe.”
“Perfect, transport me there at once,” The Keymaster eagerly demanded.
“Oh, but here’s the thing: it no longer exists. Yeah, looks like it was erased. I only got an archive of the file… huh. No trace of the penumbras either, save for some temporal residue.” At that moment, an electronic ding came from the terminal. “Database was just updated, let me reload the directory.” A few clicks and clacks later, Molly refreshed the page, but appeared to become even more perplexed by the new results. “Oh, it’s back again now. But the file on the Penumbras of your universe has just been deleted. Looks like some kind of transdimensional fluctuation is occurring.” A brief silence followed, as Molly slowly looked back up towards The Keymaster. “…And it looks like you’re a dead man walking, because your own file is deleted — multiple times already, for that matter, if the wayback machine over here is correct.” Molly appeared to have been studying multiple computer terminals at once. “You’re definitely at the center of this fluctuation, and something tells me you’re not even supposed to be standing here right now.”
The Keymaster sighed with relent as he told Molly the truth. “I am…being pursued. I arrived here because it was the only place I could reach.”
“Well, we don’t want any of your drama following you to our doorstep. Last thing we need is another audit on our record, we’re finally a whole month clean!”
The Keymaster growled in frustration. “There is far more at stake than mere… ‘audits’. The forces at play are beyond either of us, and if I am discovered, it will be as if I never existed.”
Molly sighed. “Whatever. You need to get out of here ASAP, before things turn bad…” She would clack away at the keyboard some more, before tilting her head in surprise. “Oh. Goodie. Seems there’s one universe left unaffected by the fluctuation. You should be able to hide out there without drawing attention.” A few more keyboard clacks later, and a nearby set of double doors opened.
As The Keymaster peered through, he could see a grey forest, just like that which he had come from. He turned back to Molly one last time. “I humbly thank you for your assistance. When my vision comes to fruition, you shall be spared…” He murmured, before crossing the threshold.
“…Pfft, what a weirdo,” Molly sighed, before resuming her work.
The Keymaster emerged into the new world, taking in his surroundings. It was not too much unlike his previous home.
At first, he simply stood in silence amongst the forest, stewing in internal turmoil. After all that happened, he had finally been pushed to his breaking point. For so long, he had tried to be what he thought was wanted of him, to regain the favor he so desperately sought. Yet he realized now that no matter what, it would never be satisfactory, and only end in his execution. He had become an error in a greater plan which had no place for him, and he knew that he could not escape the attempts on his life forever. The only two things keeping him sane had been torn away from him, and now he had nothing to lose. It was here, in this spiral of despair, that he suddenly found a path forward. If achieving the purpose he had been created for was truly the only way to be free of his torment, then he would finally do it. He would carry out his duty with determination and enthusiasm, and stop at nothing until it was complete.
In this new reality came yet another start anew. This time, however, would be different. This would be it. He decided to commemorate this occasion with one final form, the most twisted and profane of them all — a summation of all that came before. Like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, his body contorted and shifted, eventually molding to its new shape. His fingernails were like key-shaped claws, so hideously long and sharp that a simple flick of his finger was enough to slit throats. He forged for himself a scold's bridle with antlers, welding it to his face and fastening it against his skull with bolts.
He reveled in his new skin, but only momentarily; for he sensed the presence of another in this reality. A fellow Keymaster. An opposition to his new start, yet with the potential to further his cause. But that would have to wait.
In the distance, he saw a castle in the mountains, occupied by Penumbras. A perfect place to gather his strength and prepare…
