The freshly-fallen snow of the Eterfol mountains crunched beneath the boots of the Partisans marching along the slope.
“So, what exactly even is this ‘Iron Fist’ again? How are we somehow a part of it?” asked Jacob Howard, one of the new recruits, as they trudged upwards.
Another soldier shrugged. “I ‘dunno, but that Steele dude’s influence probably runs as deep as his pockets. Like, just look what they equipped us with…”
Jacob briefly slowed to thoughtfully study the firearm he held in his hands. It was an assault rifle, with a rather ornate design for such a practical purpose as killing. He removed the magazine to find iron bullets filled with blackfire gunpowder, engraved with mysterious runes not unlike those which members of The Lost once engraved into their iron arrowheads. It was like a gift from Hell; a slaughter machine brilliantly designed as the contraption of a mad gunsmith. They never go this hard with firepower…what the hell are we supposed to be killing? Jacob thought, a faint sense of dread lingering at the back of his mind. “Yeah, they look pretty badass. But why the weird symbols?” He asked as he resumed his trek, running to catch up with the rest.
“Probably decorative. You know, like how gangsters back home would carry gold-plated guns just to show off.” There was a brief pause, before the soldier decided to make an attempt at small talk. “Anyways, why’d you join the coalition?”
Jacob scoffed. “It was really a no-brainer after the M.E.G. abandoned me. This group seems like they would actually care enough to rescue me if I got trapped somewhere…” Conveniently, he left out the part about his uniform being dumped onto him by a deserting officer.
Eventually, the imposing visage of Castle Crey came into view. Just before the soldiers reached the summit of the mountain, where the castle stood, they came to a stop, as the leader of the group proceeded to address and brief them. “There have been reports of strange activity occurring in Castle Crey, and we have been tasked with eliminating its current resident. Intel indicates that our target is ‘The Keymaster’, and he is possibly building up some kind of army.”
The partisans looked around at each other with surprised expressions. The Keymaster was one of the most powerful and widely known entities in the backrooms. Killing him would drastically affect The Backrooms in multiple ways…and they were the ones given the responsibility of carrying it out.
While most seemed uneasy at the idea as they heard this, Jacob’s eyes lit up at the prospect of revenge. That fucker had kept him imprisoned for years, and he relished the opportunity to get even.
“Now, remember the drills we have practiced. We are to infiltrate this castle, locate the target, and eliminate him. Do not otherwise engage in lethal force unless absolutely necessary. Understood?” The collection of soldiers nodded in unison. “Very good. Now, then…” The leader of the group led them around to the side of the castle, where a sewer grate was exposed. The soldiers entered through the whole, wading through semi-frozen sewage before emerging inside the castle.
With their weapons poised, the U.E.C. soldiers snuck through the halls of Castle Crey, which stood completely silent. Even with the burning torches mounted on the walls, the locale was blanketed with silence that stirred the bones of the party into paranoia. Then, with a renegade breeze drafting through the halls, the flames were snuffed, enveloping everyone in darkness.
They could feel the growing presence of something besides them…something completely other than human. A pair of small, luminescent white eyes emerged from the paralyzing darkness, lifelessly gazing at the trembling and sweating soldiers. A deafening, vaguely human scream rang through the castle, ricocheting off the stone walls as an entire cluster of white eyes opened all around the U.E.C. soldiers, amplifying the screech with their own, creating a disturbing and haunting chorus.
“Open fire!” the leader commanded, before carnage ensued.
Like a strobe light, the darkness was briefly broken by fleeting flashes of pale blue gunfire, illuminating only the vaguest features of the beasts that the soldiers were fending off — horns, claws, and a humanoid shape.
With each shot fired by a gun, a different harrowing sight was revealed by its resulting flash: a soldier frantically searching for a mutilated severed limb; half of a monster’s head blown apart with brain matter puddled on the ground; a soldier attempting to fight off the monsters consuming his legs; and countless lifeless corpses littering the ground. After what seemed like endless slaughter, all the monsters had been killed, leaving a gruesome and disgusting mess on the ground alongside the corpses of fallen soldiers.
Glancing down at the floor, it was only now that the Partisans finally realized what they had been fighting. They saw before them the corpses of Penumbras, noting such distortions as protruding bones and elongated claws.
“What happened to these penumbras? They seem…feral. Like they’ve been twisted…” a soldier murmured, almost seeming to take pity on its condition.
“Doesn’t matter, they’re savages all the same…” the leader callously remarked. “Besides, they’re not the target we’re here for – in fact, it seems they were here to stop us from reaching him…”
The remaining Partisans ventured further into the castle, stepping over fallen friends and foes alike in thick, dark blood. At the end of a hall, the soldiers crouched beside a large set of doors leading into the castle’s throne room. There, they quietly remained in place for a moment as they checked their gear and prepared their weapons. On the commander’s signal, they swiftly kicked the door open, storming into a large room completely shrouded in darkness, with their weapons frantically and aimlessly sweeping through the inky black. They stood at each other’s backs in a circular formation at the center of the room, aiming in all directions, but found no sign of their target. The flashlights mounted on their guns could barely pierce through the thick dusty blackness. The tension in the air was palpable. The soldiers could only hear their own breath and heartbeats.
In Jacob’s peripheral vision, he briefly saw the glint of a key, and quickly spun towards it. Everyone's guns aimed in the same direction at the drop of a dime, unleashing a torrent of gunfire at the fleeting shadow and riddling it with iron bullets. The impact of each bullet sent the figure reeling, blasting off chunks of its form and splattering blood across the walls. When the gunfire ceased, the tenebrous figure was sent to the floor in a smoking, bloodied mangled mess, emanating a faint death rattle before falling silent.
The Partisans silently stood over the body, keeping their guns trained on it. It remained motionless? and so they all lowered their guns. “We…we did it. Fuck yeah! We did it!” Jacob exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air. The soldiers cheered in celebration, patting each other on the backs. “Tom’s Diner, on me tonight!” One of them exclaimed.
Amidst the soldiers’ celebrations, they failed to notice the carcass in the corner shakily arising and contorting its crooked form back into its original alignment, with the sound of bones cracking and flesh ripping.
Suddenly, a sickening wet crunch emanated from Jacob, and a gush of blood spurted from his mouth. Hands trembling, he looked down at himself with horror to find that a fist had no-clipped through his chest from behind, completely destroying his organs. As the fist ripped itself from Jacob’s chest, his body limply crumpled onto the ground in a lifeless heap, revealing the imposing silhouette of a horned figure.
The soldiers again opened fire, but chains lashed out from the figure and flailed about to deflect the oncoming bullets. The soldiers eventually ran out of ammo, scrambling to reload their firearms in a panic amidst the darkness. As they did so, the horned figure dislodged one of the bullets from himself, examining it in his hand. “How naïve, to believe your ‘iron’ could fell me…” he mused with a growl. The bullet in his hand began to morph into the shape of a key, before he threw it like a dart at one of the soldiers and pierced her throat. He then turned his attention to the rest of the soldiers, holding his hands out as all the bullets they had fired at him proceeded to shoot out from his palms back towards them in the shape of keys.
All the soldiers crumpled to the ground in bloodied heaps, not unlike he had moments earlier. They were torn apart from the bullets. Their body parts, blood, and organs covered the ground as bullets continued to spray at what was now an amalgamation of human flesh and bones.
One of the few still living gazed up at him with an expression of horror. “You… you’re not the key-” his words were cut short with a sickening slash.
Chapter 1
“This way.” A man in M.E.G. uniform barked, waving over to the corridor that he emerged from. A wanderer cautiously followed behind him, believing that perhaps this was finally the end of her nightmare. As the pair traveled through Level 4, she took notice of his limp, but quickly dismissed it, assuming that he perhaps suffered an injury in the line of duty. “This way.” The operative repeated, urging the wanderer onward.
At that moment, the wanderer noticed broken glass littered about the floor, directly in the path of the M.E.G. operative who seemed completely oblivious to it. “Hey, watch out!” She tried to warn, but the M.E.G. operative didn’t seem to listen. The man tripped on one of his limps and fell forward, landing on his hands which became cut up by the glass. He rose back up onto his feet and continued walking, not even stopping to examine his bleeding hands. That was when the wanderer noticed that the blood running from his wound was not red…but clear. The man looked the wanderer in the eyes for the first time, and she saw that they were sunken with an emotionless gaze, finally realizing the man’s uncanny appearance in its entirety.
“I am with the M.E.G… I’m here to help.” The M.E.G. operative monotonously droned, repeating the very same phrase he had said upon first meeting the wanderer.
The wanderer backed away quickly, and in a swift motion, the M.E.G. Operative’s flesh sloughed off from his body to reveal a yellow goopy creature. It shoved the discard flesh into its mouth before lunging after the wanderer, who found herself running for her life. She passed through several doors, flights of stairs, and hallways, until she found herself in a large empty room.
Suddenly, the wanderer heard new sounds: the approaching echoes of heavy footfalls and a faint metallic jingling. Subtle notes of the scents of petrichor and liquor lingered in the air. Ahead of her, a dark fog spilled into the room from around the corner, like ink in water. The lights above her flickered before failing, surrounding her in complete darkness for a brief moment. Just as quickly as it had left, the lights then returned, revealing a being before the wanderer. He was tall and silver-haired, wearing a black cloak and a ring of keys on his right hip. The dark fog moved with him as he approached the wanderer quickly. She yelped in terror as she fell backwards, scrambling away from him.
“Hold still.” he commanded in a deep yet soft voice, seeming unfazed by her reaction to him. His cloak parted and unfurled, revealing a deep black void within. The wanderer cowered in fear before the being, believing he would her in some way. She then heard a growl, slowly turning her head to see the skin-stealer just behind her ready to pounce. As it did so, tendrils of the cloak lashed out to ensnare it, pulling the entity into the darkness behind the cloak which then closed back up. The dark figure looked down upon the wanderer. “Are you lost?”
The wanderer looked up towards the being, at a loss for words. “I- I am,” she stammered. By now, she didn’t detect any hostility towards her from this being, and so she asked her own question in turn. “What are you?”
“I am The Keymaster…at least, that is what I am called…” he replied. “I can take you somewhere safe, if that is what you wish for. All you must do is ask.”
The wanderer’s eyes seemed to glimmer with hope. “You mean…you can take me back home?”
This hope was swiftly snuffed out when The Keymaster shook his head. “That is not possible, I am afraid. Wherever you once were, you may never return. For all intents and purposes, you are now in an entirely different world.”
This sent the wanderer reeling, and she stood in silence for a moment, attempting to process it. She didn’t want to believe The Keymaster's words, and yet…it seemed to be the only logical conclusion. After all, she had been through five spaces by now, with no sign of getting any closer to escape. Finally, she looked back up at The Keymaster.
“Can you just…take me somewhere safe, please?”
The Keymaster nodded affirmatively. “Very well, then. I can take you to what wanderers call ‘Level 11’. It is well-populated and relatively safe…” His hand reached outward, plucking a shiny key out of thin air before the wanderer’s very eyes. The wanderer stared in awe at the sight, before The Keymaster proceeded to guide her to a particular wall. “This should be it…” He tapped the key on the wall to reveal a door into Level 11, before unlocking it.
The wanderer slowly stepped towards the door, looking up at The Keymaster one last time. “Thank you…” She softly said, feeling just a little safer in this hellscape as she proceeded through the door.
After the wanderer departed, The Keymaster intended to resume his journey back to The Hub. However, a certain sensation suddenly compelled him to instead explore Level 4 more deeply. It was a sensation that he only felt in proximity to beings like himself. Giving in to his curiosity, he followed this compulsion, feeling it grow stronger until he eventually happened upon the harrowing sight of a heavily injured faceling girl being tended to by The Alchemist. Among her injuries was a broken arm, and so severe was the damage she sustained that The Keymaster did not immediately realize that she was in fact Maria. Upon seeing The Keymaster, she yelped in fright and huddled her face against The Alchemist’s shoulder. This was rather odd for her, especially considering her typical tendency to menace The Keymaster on sight.
The Alchemist turned to The Keymaster, wearing a curious expression on his face. “Strange coincidence, seeing you here after what happened…”
“What is wrong with her?” asked The Keymaster, slowly approaching the two.
The Alchemist sighed. “I’m not sure if I fully understand the situation. She came to me like this, probably would’ve died if I didn’t patch her up. I don’t look into the minds of children, so I had to directly ask her what happened.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That’s the mystifying part. She says she was wandering the Gelid Isle before she got attacked by a ‘bad Keymaster’.” He then pulled a crumpled paper out of his lab coat. “I asked her to draw him for me, and this was what she made.”
⠀
Despite its simplicity in detail, something about the drawing disturbed The Keymaster. Everything about it looked wrong, like a perversion of himself.
“I have rarely seen such brutality. The attack was clearly personal, like he already knew her and wanted her dead on sight,” The Alchemist continued.
“I assure you that I had nothing to do with this…” The Keymaster stammered.
“I know, there’s nothing within your mind to suggest you did. But this is definitely connected to you.”
“I presume as much – but how so?”
“My leading theory is that we have another wayward Keymaster variant on our hands – but unlike last time, he could do far worse than make Divus late to happy hour.”
The Keymaster drew a sigh. “I feared you would say that. The last thing I want at the moment is more excitement of that nature.”
“Regardless, it’s the hand you’ve been dealt. I suggest you take care of this before things get too out of hand.”
The Keymaster took another look at Maria in her broken and vulnerable state. He felt obligated to right this injustice, for her sake if nothing else. “…Very well,” he sighed with relent.
Chapter 2
Upon returning to The Hub, The Keymaster located the door leading to Level 813, proceeding to enter through it. He had not visited the Gelid Isle often – not if he could help it, at least. Although he wasn’t exactly unwelcome, he always had the sense that its native inhabitants regarded him with a sort of caution. That sentiment could not be felt anymore strongly in his current visit, where he was met with looks of suspicion among almost every other passerby. It seemed that whatever imposter used his likeness had tarnished his name in doing so. The closer he approached the Eterfol mountains, the fewer people he encountered; the locals seemed to be intentionally avoiding the region.
One short trek up the Eterfol mountains later, and The Keymaster came upon Castle Crey. In an instant, everything fell deathly quiet; even the wind itself seemed to stop blowing for just a moment. It was almost as if the world was attempting to warn against The Keymaster's actions. But he did not scare easily, pressing onward as he entered the castle.
Castle Crey held no warmth, light or sound within its walls. For a moment, The Keymaster almost wondered if this being was already long gone, or perhaps never even existed to begin with. But these theories were quickly dismissed when he suddenly felt a peculiar sensation tug upon him, not unlike the one he felt in Level 4. It was the strongest one he had ever felt so far, and he could almost feel a connection with his other self. It was likely that the other did as well, and so he remained vigilant.
The Keymaster eventually approached the heavy set of double doors leading into the throne room, the only remaining area of the castle that he had yet to explore. He knew that stealth would not be an option; he would have to confront his other self head-on. Though he was curious to at least know his intentions first. With a wave of his hand, the doors unlocked themselves and swung open before him.
The Keymaster stormed into the room, his guard raised as if expecting to be instantly barraged with attacks. To his surprise, however, none came. Rather, he was met with the sight of a figure sitting upon the throne, quite comfortably it seemed — almost as if having expected The Keymaster. His metal mask, adorned with cruelly twisted antlers, seemed to glint malevolently in the faint light. He was shackled in many chains, bound by a padlock on his chest. Various parts of his body sporadically twitched in an erratic and unnatural manner, akin to an insect or an addict. The key ring attached to his hip consisted of several glowing white keys, seemingly pulsating with some sort of living essence and power. He possessed all the basic details portrayed in Maria’s drawing, and so The Keymaster knew that this was him.
The horned Keymaster slowly turned his head towards The Keymaster, displaying no outward signs of aggression or hostility. In fact, he even seemed happy to see him. “Ah, welcome, brother! Please, make yourself at home.” The Keymaster narrowed his eyes with suspicion towards the being, slowly pacing across the room until he stood before the throne. “Now, I am sure you have heard some…unsavory rumors about me. But I assure you, these claims are nothing more than slander against my name.” The Keymaster was partially distracted from his counterpart’s monologue by a pungent odor which permeated the room. His eyes wandered about before landing on the decomposing remains of U.E.C. members. “-I see no need for hostility between us. In fact, we may even help each other…” The horned Keymaster nonchalantly continued. “Do you not wish to be free of our father’s tyranny?”
The Keymaster was confused to hear this at first. “-Our… ‘father’?”
“Oh – you are yet to discover the truth of your nature.” He cackled, shaking his head. “Many such cases. You are The Keymaster, and yet…you have no idea of your full potential, the true power at your fingertips. You have barely even begun to scratch the surface of what it truly means to be The Keymaster.” He scoffed and waved his hand in dismissal. “-But there are greater matters at hand. You see, you are the last one that I need to fulfill my goal, to carry out my vision. I would much rather you help willingly, as opposed to…” The horned Keymaster patted the ring of glowing white keys at his hip.
The Keymaster crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. “If you feel the need to leverage threats against me, I haven’t much faith in your integrity nor your goals.”
The horned Keymaster sighed with a growl, slowly arising from the throne. “I have already partaken in this exact scenario numerous times, so allow me to tell you how it shall unfold: You will refuse to help me for some reason or another, thus forcing me to take matters into my own hands. A struggle shall ensue as I attempt to take your power, and we will battle. We may appear closely matched at first, and perhaps I may even allow you the upper hand for a moment, if only to lower your guard with the hope of a fighting chance. But, in the end, I shall ultimately triumph, and rend your soul from your fallen form.”
The stale air of the throne room hung heavily over the two Keymasters, who began to slowly pace around each other as if locked in a dance. The Horned Keymaster’s ragged clothes billowed around him, chains clinking ominously with each step. The Keymaster clenched his fists, steeling himself for the inevitable clash. By now, they both already knew this would end in violence, an outcome obvious even to those without their godlike intellect. It was only a matter of who would strike the first blow.
Without a word, the horned Keymaster launched himself forward, chains whipping through the air with lethal precision, piercing through the sound barrier as they snapped. The Keymaster barely had time to react, dodging and parrying the onslaught as best as he could. But the horned Keymaster was relentless, raining down blow after blow upon The Keymaster. The horned Keymaster wrapped chains around his fist before punching The Keymaster square in the chest, with enough force to shatter a human’s ribs. Black blood spurted from The Keymaster’s mouth, corroding the surfaces that it splattered onto. The Keymaster fought to maintain his footing, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“You may be strong…but I am beyond strength.” With a flick of his wrist, the horned Keymaster’s chains ensnared The Keymaster’s throat, constricting around it. “I am the end…and I have come to claim you.” Another flick of his wrist, and the chains jerked to snap The Keymaster’s neck. The Keymaster fell to his knees, temporarily immobilized as his hands reached to snap his neck back into place. He was given no time to regain his bearings after doing so, as the horned Keymaster continued his relentless assault. With a final, devastating blow, the Horned Keymaster sent The Keymaster crashing to the ground. As The Keymaster struggled to rise, the Horned Keymaster loomed over him, chains snaking around his prone form like serpents. They wrapped around his limbs and restricted his movements, completely restraining him.
The horned Keymaster’s metal mask gazed down upon his counterpart with cold, merciless eyes devoid of any shred of compassion, shaking his head in disapproval. “Is this truly it? The last remaining Keymaster? The one I have come all this way to face? I would have at least expected you to challenge me…” His hand shot forth into The Keymaster’s chest, phasing through it. His intent did not appear to be one of harm, but rather to find something. Yet he did not. The horned Keymaster studied The Keymaster intently, before it suddenly "clicked" for him. “How interesting. You are quite different from the others. It seems that your power is drawn from that cloak of yours…”
The horned Keymaster's hand reached out to The Keymaster, grabbing onto the cloak around his body and pulling with all his strength. The folds of the cloak began loosening and creasing as it lifted from The Keymaster’s body. Black droplets began to drip from The Keymaster’s body, sizzling with a sickening hiss as it ate away at the stone floor. The cloak stretched even further, several tears opening as the droplets fell in greater numbers at a faster rate and larger size. Blackened, half-melted muscle mass was exposed as half of the cloak was already torn off, sending The Keymaster to his knees as he felt agony for perhaps the first time. Black tar puddled around him, burning a crater into the ground. Finally, the entirety of The Keymaster’s cloak was rent from his body, its tattered ends dripping the acidic black sludge. As the world faded into oblivion, his final thought was of the countless souls depending on him.
Chapter 3
He slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the harsh imagery as if it were nothing more than a nightmare. A blinding light from above emanated a deafening buzz, and as his vision unblurred and came into focus, he realized that they were flickering fluorescent lights affixed to a ceiling. Even so, all he could see around him was a sickly yellow. A foul, musty stench in the air burned the hairs of his nose and the back of his throat. His entire body felt tender all over, as if his skin had been torn from him. Yet he realized his flesh was perfectly intact when he looked down at his hand — a human hand, with human skin. Furthermore, he was wearing the kind of modest clothing that a human would; a t-shirt, cargo jacket, and khakis. It felt quite itchy. Standing up and looking around, he tried to identify where he was. It appeared to be an empty space in the back of an office building. This place felt familiar to him, and yet he failed to recall memories of it. It was the same type of confusion one feels upon awakening somewhere new, and not recognizing it at first. Yet unlike that feeling, this one lingered, failing to leave him.
Where…how…why? So many questions twirled about in his mind like a ballerina on meth, yet very little answers were apparent.
He tried to remind himself of who he was, to ground himself in this strange place. My name is Brian. I live in Wisconsin. My wife's name is Jessica. I work at a furniture store.
…Odd. That was not what he expected to come to mind. What he had in mind was something more along the lines of “I am The Keymaster, god of Access and overseer of the crossroads.”
Something was clearly amiss. His mind was not as he knew it to be. He attempted to conjure a level key, but produced nothing except for a cramp in his hands. He patted his hands over his pants, before feeling something in his back pocket. He pulled it out to find a wallet containing a Wisconsin state driver’s license, with the name “Brian Smith”.
My powers are gone…I’m fully human now… he finally realized.
“…Fuck.”
The only thing left for Brian to do was move. After getting his bearings, he realized he was in Level 0. He hadn’t been here too often, but enough to know this place like the back of his hand. He was confident in finding his way back soon enough.
Brian began traversing the dimly-lit halls, damp carpet squelching beneath his feet. Amidst the eerie shadows cast by the flickering fluorescent lights, his sense of direction soon crumbled alongside his confidence. As Brian continued walking, he noticed that this space seemed to be much larger than previously thought. No matter how far he traveled, all the same sights passed him by. Nothing but that same identical mono-yellow hallway, stretching endlessly into the abyss. Nothing but that same ugly fucking chevron wallpaper pattern plastered everywhere. His surroundings had betrayed him, turned hostile. Everything had now taken on a surreal and uncanny tinge; though perhaps it was always there, and he had previously failed to notice. A place once intimately familiar to him had now become uncomfortably unfamiliar. What was once his domain had now become his prison, trapping him in the labyrinthine maze that had once been of his very own making. For the first time, he was truly, utterly…lost.
Time began to blur. Had he wandered for minutes? Hours? Days, even? Brian caught fleeting glimpses of doors and stairs in his peripheral vision, yet they were naught but a mirage, evaporating as he blinked. Haunted by his isolation, he could not shake the feeling of being watched. He heard footsteps behind his own, but when he stopped, so did they. He heard ragged breathing and low growling, but when he stopped to listen, the noise was gone. He saw dark shapes in the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look, nothing was there.
The walls seemed to close in on him, their peeling wallpaper and stained tiles becoming an oppressive force. He found himself questioning his very perception of reality. Perhaps he had never been the Keymaster to begin with… was The Keymaster even a thing? In fact, was there ever anything beyond “Level 0” at all? Perhaps all those years of experiences were simply a fabrication of his own mind, to cope with this yellow void he was eternally imprisoned in as a personal hell. Perhaps this was all that there ever was to reality. The first and final frontier. The ultimate truth. Slowly, more terrifying realizations began to set in; like, for example, that if he died, there would be nobody to hear his screams, or find his body. The silence would swallow his final desperate cries, leaving behind only haunting echoes.
As Brian spiraled further into his existential crisis, he suddenly tripped on his own foot and began falling towards a wall. He closed his eyes and braced for impact, yet it did not come; at least, not immediately. Rather than fall onto a moist carpet, his body instead slammed into cold, wet concrete with a thud. He opened his eyes again to now find himself in a parking garage, clouded with low-hanging fog. Water dripped from the ceiling into puddles, with fluorescent lights flickering in an attempt to create a tune with the droplets. Brian quickly realized that he had no-clipped into Level 1, and felt a slight sense of relief knowing that perhaps he was not completely delusional after all.
From what Brian remembered, he knew there was an M.E.G. base somewhere around this level. The only difficulty for him would be to actually locate it, however, as he no longer had the intuitive understanding level layouts that The Keymaster did.
Brian’s brief surge of optimism quickly dwindled once again upon realizing that he could not find a familiar path anywhere. He searched up and down endless flights of stairs, walked through many doors and halls, but the sights did not change, and he did not seem any closer to his destination.
Suddenly, Brian stopped in his tracks as he heard a low growling emanate from a dark corner of the garage. He turned to see a pack of hounds slowly emerging from the shadows and surrounding him, foamy saliva dripping from their maws. Brian entered a fighting stance, but there was just one problem: The Keymaster was a skilled fighter, but not him. “Oh, sh-”
The growling rose to blood-curdling howls, as the pack of hounds lunged towards Brian. His mind went blank as he entered fight-or-flight mode, running for his life through the industrial maze of concrete. He had no direction, no destination, except for somewhere far away from the beasts pursuing him. The scampering drew ever closer, and he could feel the heat of ragged huffing breaths just behind his ears, his nostrils filled with the scent of rotten flesh.
After weaving around many turns, Brian eventually managed to lose all but one of the hounds, which persistently kept its pace. His legs suddenly gave out from exhaustion, causing him to trip, allowing the hound to sink its teeth into his forearm. Brian cried out in pain, adrenaline pumping through him as he kicked the hound in its face. This only served to briefly stun the creature, however, as it prepared to pounce once again.
In the corner of his eye, Brian could see a pipe in the wall that seemed loose. As the hound began getting back up, he dove toward the pipe, tearing it loose from the wall just as the hound pounced towards him. He whaled the pipe against its face like a baseball bat, cracking its skull as it was knocked back with a whining snarl. Several droplets of the hound’s blood splattered across his cheek in a streak.
He looked down at the gash left in his arm from the hound’s bite, which bled profusely. For The Keymaster, such a thing would have only been a minor inconvenience, usually instantly regenerating without any pain felt; but for Brian, as a normal human, it hurt like hell, and he no longer had such a luxury as supernatural healing. He ripped off a shred of his clothing and tied it around the wound as a makeshift tourniquet. He held back tears, biting down on his shirt to stifle agonized whimpering as he tightened the tourniquet, applying pressure to his tender mutilated flesh. The bleeding of the wound had slowed down now. He hoped that he could receive medical attention at the outpost once he found it.
From behind Brian, the hound slowly began rising back up, preparing to pounce again. Suddenly, a nearby door swung open, causing Brian to jolt in surprise. He began turning his head in an attempt to see what was on the other side of the door, but instead caught a glimpse of a javelin flying through the air from the direction of the door and piercing the hound’s skull, putting it out of its misery. A man wearing rugged clothes, with a patch of an eagle on his shoulder, emerged from the door to retrieve the javelin from the hound’s corpse. “You there. Are you alright?” He began to ask, slowly approaching Brian.
“Wait, stop!” Brian shouted, pointing the dented blood-dripping pipe towards the man before he could get any closer. “How do I know you’re not a skin-stealer?”
The operative sighed, pulling out his knife and pricking a finger on it, drawing droplets of red blood. “See? Red.”
Brian looked down at his own wound, noting that his own blood ran red. Although it may have been the “normal” color, it was not the one he had grown accustomed to. “Yeah, red…” he murmured faintly.
“Now will you come?”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, thank God you found me…” he sighed with relief, grateful to find another living soul. “Can you bring me to your outpost?”
Chapter 4
Brian eventually arrived at Base Alpha alongside the M.E.G. operative. It was a rather large campsite situated in an odd but very strategic location. “Found another wanderer out there, seems new,” the operative explained to the others.
“What? No, I’ve been here for ten years.” Brian replied.
“Well then what the hell were you doing in Level 0?”
Brian scoffed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Come on, try me. I’m sure I've seen less believable things than whatever you’re about to say.”
Brian sighed, crossing his arms. “I’m the Keymaster, and my cloak was stolen from me by an evil version of myself from another dimension.”
The M.E.G. operatives stared at him blankly for a moment, before glancing at each other and then bursting out in laughter.
Brian seemed upset that he wasn’t being taken seriously. “Hey, I’m serious!” He indignantly protested.
One of the M.E.G. operatives only continued to laugh. “Yeah buddy, and I’m Blanche!” He shook his head before turning to another M.E.G. operative. “Do me a favor and get ‘The Keymaster’ here some almond water. Poor bastard’s clearly been out there too long.”
Brian huffed with frustration, but he was not stubborn enough to refuse the canister of almond water when it was presented to him. He took a large gulp of it, feeling refreshed as his fatigue and delirium began subsiding.
An M.E.G operative glanced at the bandaged wound on Brian’s arm. “You got bit by a hound, right?” He asked, to which Brian slowly nodded. “Well you better treat that quick, ‘less you wanna get amputated. Shit’s nasty when it’s infected.”
Brian unraveled the tourniquet and poured some almond water from the thermos onto the wound, which began to close up and fade.
As Brian stared down at his arm, he found himself deep in rumination, becoming increasingly frustrated. It was as if everything about him that once made him special was not his own, and now that it had all been literally stripped away from him, what was even left? Just a boring average joe, who could barely even survive the beginning of The Backrooms. He still had all of his memories as The Keymaster, and even lingering fragments of his personality that had been ingrained into his psyche. But now, he lacked everything about that being which was actually useful. None of the power, none of the skill, none of the prestige or respect.
He kept replaying the scene of the M.E.G. operatives ridiculing him in his mind, and he seethed over it – “And I’m Blanche” one of them said, as if it was a complete joke.
Blanche… Brian pondered, before it suddenly hit him. That was it. He soon found himself rummaging through whatever books he could find in the base.
One of the M.E.G. operatives shot a strange look at him. “What are you looking for, exactly?”
“Trying to find a book signed by Blanche…” Brian shortly grunted beneath his breath as he rapidly flipped through books in search of her signature.
The operative scoffed. “Well good luck with that, those things aren’t the easiest to come by.”
Just as he said that, Brian finally found a book containing Blanche’s signature. He eagerly swiped his finger across it as he disappeared in the blink of an eye.
The M.E.G. operative stared blankly at the empty space left behind — now occupied only by the book, which had fallen onto the floor. “Well shit.”
Chapter 5
“Farewell, dear. Do take care,” Blanche said, waving at a now-closed door. With the last of her guests for the day leaving the Cygnus Archive, she returned to her usual seat at her desk, idly writing down some notes with quill and ink. Her thoughts resided elsewhere for the moment, lingering on the beginning of a faintly visible thread that she was curious, as always, to follow.
Not too long ago, she received a rather special visit from a dear old friend. They didn't recognize each other at first, his memories having been muddled — but nonetheless, they shared a cup of tea, traded words and concerns, and she even went on a little trip down her guest's memory lane. And in that trip lay the thread currently occupying her thoughts.
Another was there as well; an even older friend, one she had not seen in far longer than most can recall. One she saw carried away to a cage, whose fate she was helpless to change. One held beyond her reach and knowledge… until now. There was a lead. The dangling end of an obscured thread, daring her to follow.
Blanche was suddenly pulled from these thoughts as she sensed the arrival of a new visitor. It was rather odd for someone to arrive at this “time” of “day”, so those who did typically had a very good reason. She peered up from her writing to gaze upon the visitor, who shyly stood in the doorway of her office. She tilted her head with curiosity upon recognizing him. “Keymaster, is that you? My, you look quite different now.”
Brian was caught off guard by this, having mentally prepared himself to try convincing Blanche that he was The Keymaster. He slowly nodded. “Y-yes, Blanche…it’s me.”
Blanche stood from her desk and motioned towards a table in the tea room. “Come, have a seat. I assume you want to discuss something related to this new predicament of yours.”
Brian silently nodded, pulling up a chair at the tea table where Blanche was now seated in the blink of an eye. “I know you said before that the cloak was what made me…well, The Keymaster,” he murmured as he sat in the chair, whilst Blanche poured steaming cups of tea for them both. “But now I’ve lost it, and…”
“-You feel no different…” Blanche mused, idly stirring her tea with a fine china spoon.
Brian slowly nodded. “I carried that mantle for ten years. It’s so ingrained into me by now. I’ve regained my human memories and personality…but I still have all the memories of The Keymaster and Gatekeeper. I feel like that part of myself is what pushed me to come here. I know none of this is my responsibility anymore, but…I don’t really know anything else at this point. I still feel obligated to set things right.”
Blanche raised a brow in curiosity. “What exactly do you mean?” She asked while stirring tea.
“Well, my cloak wasn’t really ‘lost’ so much as it was stolen.”
“And just who is this fellow who robbed you of your cloak?”
“Well, he seems like another version of The Keymaster from a different reality. But unlike the others, he has no morals whatsoever. He’s very dangerous and is clearly planning something destructive, using my cloak to somehow gain enough power for it.”
This information seemed to disconcert Blanche, but she chose to press Brian further before prematurely drawing any conclusions. “Do you have any idea what his goals may be?”
“All I know is that he kept mentioning ‘our father’ and how he wanted to ‘break the seal’.”
Blanche appeared to become deeply concerned upon hearing this. “Dear, there’s something I haven’t yet told you about your nature, because I didn’t feel you were ready to learn it…but it seems my hand has been forced…” She momentarily paused, before asking, “Does the name ‘Kei’’ ring a bell to you?”
Brian thought long and hard. Although the name felt familiar, he didn’t remember directly meeting any such being. It gave him a strange sense of Déjà vu. He shook his head towards Blanche. “Not really, only vaguely.”
Blanche turned towards a dark corner of the library. “Paris, dear, would you kindly fetch your volumes on Pillars and Avatars?”
A pair of eyes opened in the dark corner, belonging to the silhouette of a slug-like creature. “As you wish, my lady…” He croaked, scurrying into the depths of the bookshelves before shortly returning with two manuscripts lightly smeared with mucus as they were passed to Blanche.
Brian reached for the tomes, but Blanche held them away from his grasp, just out of arm's reach. “The information contained in this work can be dangerous to humans…I must read it to you myself to ensure your safety.”
Brian nodded with understanding, listening to Blanche’s abridged recitation of the Pillar Scribe’s writing. When she had finished, Brian then asked, “So, what does this have to do with ‘Kei’’?
Blanche sighed. “Well… Kei’ is – or, was – your respective Pillar, representing Access. It is responsible for the creation and existence of every Keymaster in every reality. They are, so to speak, its eyes and ears.”
Brian gave a sigh of disbelief. “So…I was nothing more than a puppet…” he concluded, staring blankly.
Blanche shook her head. “No, dear. Kei’ was not literally pulling the strings on you. You did have free will, though you served as nothing more than a means to an end.”
“What end?” Asked Brian.
Blanche’s expression turned grim. “Long ago, Kei’ attempted to tear down the barriers between all realities, in service to its agenda of Access. All the other Pillars banded together to place a seal on it…” She clutched onto her pendant. “I was one of them.”
“So…Kei’ created its avatars to set it free.” Brian concluded.
Blanche nodded. “That is what I believe. Kei’ only began to take interest in creating avatars after imprisonment.”
“Where does the guy who took my cloak fit into all of this?”
“Well, dear, I believe that he was in fact Kei’s very first avatar; the first Keymaster, if you will. But he grew to defy the purpose that Kei’ had created him for, and thus was destroyed. Except he came back. And after Kei’ destroyed him for the second time, he came back again. This being has somehow found a way to cheat death each time Kei’ has attempted to destroy him. They have long been engaged in a game of cat and mouse. But it seems now that he intends to break the cycle by freeing Kei’…the very purpose for which he was created.”
Brian seemed confused. “But why would he want to free Kei’, if Kei’ keeps killing him?”
Blanche paused. “I don’t know, dear. Perhaps he believes he will finally earn Kei’s approval in doing so.”
Brian took a moment to process all of this. “If what you say is true, then every reality could be at stake.” He rose to his feet. “I need to stop him.”
Blanche placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder in reassurance. “I will do whatever I can to help you, dear. What do you ask of me?”
Brian bit his tongue, knowing the request he would ask of Blanche was not easy nor timely. “Could you gather other avatars? As many as you’re in contact with? It seems like they’d be the only beings powerful enough to stop this rogue Keymaster.”
As predicted, Blanche appeared to be apprehensive towards this idea. “I do not know if it would be wise to arrange such a meeting. They don’t exactly visit often, anyways. Argos and Claudius visit every now and then, Kirai a bit more sparsely…I may be on good terms with those I know individually, but their relations with each other is an entirely different story.”
“But that’s what you do, isn’t it? You mend broken relationships, you achieve peace,” Brian rebutted.
Blanche thought for a moment, before nodding. “Yes, I suppose you are right. I’ll see what I can do.”
Blanche left the room for a moment, before shortly returning with a cup of tea which she handed to Brian. “Here, drink this.”
Brian took the cup of tea, sipping it. “What's this forrrrrr…” he began to say, slurring words as his vision went black.
Brian next opened his eyes to find himself standing in a grand temple. As he looked around, it took a moment for him to realize that this was the temple of Level 51, except it was no longer decrepit and abandoned. It was fully furnished and in pristine condition, restored to its full glory just as it had been in ancient times.
Beside Brian appeared a faintly glowing apparition of Blanche. Stars could be seen flickering in the shadow of her dress.
“What is this place?” He asked her.
“I have woven a collective dream for us all to participate in.” Blanche chuckled as she looked around in admiration of her handiwork.
Brian was confused. “But why a dream? Why not physically gather everyone in the Cygnus Archive?”
“Oh, that would have proven needlessly difficult. And this way, nobody will get hurt if tensions escalate…”
Brian was not exactly reassured to know that Blanche was taking such things into consideration.
She then looked towards the large set of double doors in front of them. “The others are waiting for us in the meeting hall.”
Brian slowly approached the doors of the meeting hall, opening it a crack and peeking his head through. It was grand and spacious. Several avatars were gathered within the hall, seated upon their respective thrones or those of their predecessors. Their forms appeared as they did in their prime — adorned in a radiant, ethereal aura of power and splendor, twinkling with constellations of stars around their bodies. Amongst the gathering of gods were Kushim, Y’liad Elyion, The Dark Sovereign, The Red Knight, and Argos.
Brian ducked out as fast as he could upon seeing who was gathered there. “What the hell is that about?!” He exclaimed in a hushed hiss through grit teeth, as the door creaked shut.
Blanche nervously wrung her hands. “It was the best I could do, especially on such short notice.”
“But they all hate me! And probably each other too.”
“I called upon as many as I could, but those who did not arrive either had valid reasons for doing so, or never received my message. Chiasmus is finding herself, Lorenzo isn't the most sociable, Divus is still battling aer drinking problem, and Penelope isn’t very cooperative.” Blanche turned her head towards the doors of the meeting hall. “My point is, those gathered in that hall are not exactly the most popular, either. And like you, they have found that I am someone who they are comfortable with confiding in. That is why they so readily answered my summons. I would not take this opportunity for granted, dear, just because you may not be on the best terms with all of them. Was it not you who told me earlier that relations should be mended?”
Brian bowed his head, becoming a bit more timid. “Well, yeah…but that was before I realized who would actually be here.”
“I won’t force you to do anything, dear, but there is no time like the present. You should never be ashamed to ask for help if you truly need it.”
As hard as it was for Brian to internalize this, he still knew on a rational level that he needed to swallow his pride if he wanted to have any chance of fixing things. “Just how confident are you in this actually working?”
“Well, I remember a time when we all did agree on most everything. If it was possible once, it may still be so.”
After some momentary hesitation, taking a deep breath, Brian nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Blanche opened the doors into the celestial hall, which Brian entered alongside her, facing the gods he had once stood amongst.
Brian felt apprehensive and awkward in the presence of all these powerful beings. They once saw him as one of their own, regarded him as a brother, but no longer did they seem to recognize that. Instead, they all stared at him intently, doubtless scrutinizing him and his mortality. Brian internally cringed, knowing from his memories that many did not leave off on good terms with Gatekeeper nor The Keymaster, having been slighted in some way by him.
“Who comes before us?” Argos demanded, leaning forth to study Brian more closely with his many eyes.
Blanche smiled, motioning to Brian. “This is Brian, and he has asked you all to grant him an audience, as you may be the only ones capable of solving his plight.”
The gods exchanged confused, indifferent glances. “Our interests… lie elsewhere… from mortal troubles; they… do not… concern us…” Y’liad murmured, almost appearing half-asleep even within this dream.
Kushim scoffed. “That’s all? You gathered us all here just for this? I thought you said The Keymaster would be here. I sure wish he was, I have some choice words for that bastard.” Several of the other gods nodded in agreement.
Blanche’s eyes repeatedly darted towards Brian, attempting to silently signify that “The Keymaster” was, in fact, present. An awkward silence fell upon the room when the other gods finally realized this, and Brian sighed as he slowly approached Gatekeeper’s vacant throne. The eyes of all the gods set themselves upon Brian with greater intensity as he sat down.
Brian sighed again, looking around at all the gods gathered around him. “I wouldn’t have asked for help from any of you if this wasn’t important. This is a dire time, and existence itself is at stake.”
The Dark Sovereign rolled his luminescent orblike eyes, drumming his crystalline claws upon the arm of his throne. “Very well, we shall entertain your plight. What is the nature of this threat?”
Brian looked down at himself. “As you can see, I’m not…really…The Keymaster anymore. I lost my cloak, and now I’m just the human who wore it. Another Keymaster stole the cloak, and is likely planning to use the power he’s been accumulating to free his oversoul. If that happens, unforeseen destruction could occur, and that’s why I need your help to stop him.”
The Red Knight’s armor gleamed with the reflections of ambient torchlight. “You dare expect us to set aside thousands of years worth of grudges, just to aid you, a mere mortal, in matters which you should no longer concern yourself in? This is not our fight, nor should it be yours.”
“Then who’s fight is it?!” Brian grunted with frustration. “Look, I know I'm not the god you all knew. As far as you all care, I'm just a normal human, and you could instantly turn me to ash if you wanted. But if you actually care for this world like he did, you should at least hear me out before incinerating me.”
Kushim chuckled heartily. “You act as if we would be more likely to aid you if you were The Keymaster. Much less would we aid him of all beings than we would you. In fact, you are worthier of that throne than he ever was…”
Argos raised his scales, weighing Brian’s plea with detached precision and an unyielding gaze. “The scales tip against you, and we shall not interfere in the repercussions you now face. Justice cannot be swayed by the fallen.”
Brian arose from Gatekeeper’s throne. “But this is bigger than me! It could affect everything if we don’t stop it.”
The gods remained unmoved from their divine indifference. “If the scale of this threat is truly as large as you claim it to be, then it will naturally be dealt with by the proper forces; not through our intervention in fleeting struggles,” Argos continued.
Y’liad, in a perpetual apathetic daze, muttered, “Cosmic dramas… always unfold… and we… always watch. Surely… this situation… will resolve itself. Your troubles… are not… our concern.”
“You have lost the right to command divine authority. We owe nothing to you,” The Dark Sovereign declared.
Brian finally had enough. “You know what? Fuck you.” He threw up his hands with exasperation to the gods, who immediately turned towards him with somewhat shocked expressions.
“Language!” Blanche scolded.
“Such bold words from someone who is acutely aware of our ability to instantly smite you,” Argos rumbled.
Brian scoffed. “It doesn’t matter, I'm dead without your help no matter what. Seems like nothing has changed after all these years. You’re all still so petty and self-centered, holding onto your grudges. Your power might be godlike, but everything else about you is painfully human. And I’m starting to believe that maybe you’ve always been like this, even before humans arrived.”
Brian, disheartened and resigned, turned away from the bickering pantheon, who remained unswayed by the plight of the disgraced former god and divided by their interests and grievances. Left to confront his challenges alone, he stepped down from the circle of thrones and exited the chamber, as the gods resumed their petty bickering of a celestial scale.
Chapter 6
Brian slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the vivid imagery of the dream to once again find himself in the Cygnus Archive. He slowly sat up to see Blanche sitting beside him, wringing her hands apologetically. “It seems that your meeting could have gone a lot better…” she muttered.
“Well it would’ve been nice if you at least backed me up,” Brian huffed.
“It’s not quite my place to intervene in such matters, dear, as I try not to concern myself with the politics of ‘The Pantheon’ these days…I was merely doing a favor for a friend, nothing more.”
“Whatever,” Brian sighed, biting his tongue. He looked around, seeming to formulate a plan in his mind. “Since none of the Gods are willing to help me, I’ll have to take things into my own hands…”
Blanche tilted her head with curiosity. “What did you have in mind?”
Brian strolled up to the computer terminal at Blanche’s desk. “Without the cloak, I can’t just go to any level I want anymore. But I know what would allow me to…” He proceeded to pull up a file on the Hermes Device.
Blanche was intrigued, but also apprehensive. “And just how do you plan to acquire it? It’s being held in an Iron Fist vault. Surely you would have to infiltrate the group over a long period of time to even gain enough trust to access it.”
Their conversation would be interrupted when suddenly, Philia hurriedly arrived at the library. “Sorry I’m late! I wasn’t able to answer your summons immediately, so I had to come here in person!” She huffed breathlessly, though it was little more than theatrics as she obviously didn’t need to breathe. Dusting off her dress, she then approached Brian. “If nobody else wishes to help you, then I shall be the one to do so! I'm not exactly strong, but I know my way around things. In particular, I know how to use my charm for good outcomes!” She squeezed Brian in a hug, which felt tighter than previous times, likely since he was no longer as durable as The Keymaster. He almost suffocated in her embrace, but was at least thankful for the support she offered. Philia eventually let go of him when she realized that her grip could potentially become painful.
“Well, it’s definitely better than nothing.”
“Getting into that Iron Fist base will be no problem with my help.”
Brian was apprehensive towards the idea, seeing as Philia was an avatar. “How will you be able to help without getting caught?”
The pink-haired goddess laughed delicately, as if the answer was obvious. “All we have to do is disguise ourselves as members, with the help of my charms of course.” She winked, seeming oddly calm and cheerful. With a snap of her fingers, Brian’s clothes transformed to become more rugged, and a tattoo of a fist appeared on the back of his neck.
Philia would then undergo a similar transformation herself. The kind of disguise that she created was rather convincing, though she seemed to over-accessorize herself. She opened a glowing pink portal of swirling rose petals in front of them, leading directly to the Iron Fist Base. “Come on, let’s go!” Philia called, pulling Brian through the portal with her.
The two now stood outside the entrance of the Iron Fist base. “Well, darling, are you ready to go in after I work my magic?” asked Philia, nonchalantly applying some lipstick all the while. She didn’t seem to be taking it very seriously, and her carelessness bugged Brian a little. She could afford to, with all her powers and abilities, but not him as a normal human. He didn’t exactly have much faith in Philia’s plan, but it wasn’t like he had much more to lose.
“Alright, ‘work your magic’ or whatever…”
Philia confidently strode up towards two guards standing at the entrance of the base. “Hey there, you two, could you let us inside? We were just returning from a mission…”
The two guards looked at each other, then back at philia, seeming confused. They didn’t recognize her or Brian, and visibly became suspicious.
Brian internally groaned and pinched his brow as he saw this. Wow, that really didn’t take long…
But then, something unexpected suddenly happened. Brian noticed Philia’s eyes beginning to faintly glow, something he had never witnessed before. “Come on, you know who we are – James and Mary…that ring a bell?” she asked in a low, soft voice. The guards suddenly froze like deer in headlights, seemingly entranced by Philia’s hypnotic gaze and voice. They lightly nodded in response to her question. “O-of course, how could we have forgotten? Please, come in…” The guards stepped aside, paying little mind to formalities as they let both Brian and Philia into the base without hesitation.
When they were finally out of earshot of the guards, Philia excitedly jumped and clapped her hands. “How was that? Pretty cool, right?”
Brian chuckled and gave an impressed nod, surprised by how effectively she fooled them. “That wouldn't have been my first strategy, but I can’t deny how well that worked.”
The two began venturing deeper into the Iron Fist base, until eventually finding the vault. It was rather expansive, containing all sorts of weapons ranging from rudimentary to advanced. There were simple daggers, all the way up to military grade firearms. Philia seemed visibly uncomfortable being in such close proximity to these weapons. As Brian’s eyes wandered about, he eventually found the Hermes device. He grabbed it and was about to leave the vault when something else caught his eye. On a nearby shelf was a mysterious cylindrical device, placed next to a computer terminal opened to a memo typed by Callum Andrews.
The Partisans of Arete sent to eliminate our target in the Gelid Isle have all been eliminated. It seems that even our most advanced standard weaponry has proven ineffective against him. But that is no obstacle. If our history has shown anything, it is that deducing the weakness of a target is but a simple matter of trial and error. The ill-fated U.E.C. grunts were merely the trial.
I have recently been occupied by the development of what may be my magnum opus, the most devastating technology yet to be produced by the Iron Fist. One which will work not only on the target in question, but practically any being that cannot be terminated through our standard means. I call it Pandora’s Pithos; simple and elegant in design, yet devastating and deadly in power.
The way in which its creation came about is most strange. I was searching through the backend of Koko’s code, I found what seemed to be incomplete schematics for a device. When I queried her on how and why she had it, she told me that it “came to her in a dream”. Even with all my knowledge on the capabilities of artificial intelligence and their ability to replicate sentience, it still struck me as odd that an AI could “dream”. She told me that within her dreams, an automaton projected visions of these schematics to her.
From these schematics, I have developed a prototype model for Pandora’s Pithos. It serves to extract and capture a god’s essence, rendering them vulnerable. And perhaps the essence itself could then be researched, perhaps even harnessed…
Brian knew that if this device indeed functioned as described, he could not pass it up. It was specifically made for the one he was pursuing, after all. He grabbed Pandora’s Pithos, and armed himself with whatever Iron Fist weapons he could carry.
Just as Brian exited the vault, however, a blaring alarm sounded throughout the base and red lights began flashing. Iron Fist soldiers instantly emerged from all corners, completely surrounding Brian and Philia with their weapons trained on the pair.
Philia blew a kiss at the guards in front of her, scattering them like bowling pins and creating an opening in the crowd. Brian took off in a sprint through the gap, dashing down the hall. Several of the Iron Fist soldiers chased after him, and just as Brian rounded a corner, one of them managed to successfully shoot him in the ankle with a crossbow bolt. He cursed and stumbled, but he knew he couldn’t afford to lay there. He kept moving as fast as he could in an awkward limp, fumbling with the Hermes device along the way and trying to figure out how it even worked. After punching in a random set of coordinates, he suddenly disappeared with a flash, ending up in a random level.
Philia then turned to the rest of the guards surrounding her. “Goodbye, dears! Sorry for borrowing your little things!” She said with a cordial bow, before suddenly vanishing in a poof of pink glitter. The storm of crossbow bolts shot at her struck the vacant area where she had stood a mere instant prior.
Philia gracefully landed in the fields of Level 10, where Brian lay nearby amidst the tall wheat stalks. “Are you hurt anywhere, darling? You didn't break any bones, did you?” She asked as she approached him.
Brian rubbed his head, slowly sitting up. His disguise had now worn off, the tattoo having faded and his clothes returned to normal. “I-I think I’m alright…” He looked down to see the crossbow bolt lodged in his ankle, where he bled out. “Oh, shit.”
Philia knelt down beside him, dislodging the bolt from his ankle.
“Fuck!” Brian hissed, grabbing onto his ankle and watching it bleed out more profusely.
Philia held a finger to her lips. “Shhh, calm down, you will be okay. Here…” She waved her hand over Brian's ankle, casting a faint pink light upon it. As her hand moved away, the wound and pain had completely disappeared, as if it were never even there.
Brian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks…” He murmured as he stood back up. “Thanks for all your help with this. I really do appreciate it.”
Philia bent down slightly to plant a kiss upon Brian’s forehead. It was only now that he realized just how truly tall she was. “It was the least I could do, my dear. You needed help the most, and I never leave those in need to fend for themselves. Besides, you are far too adorable to not help. Have you seen how soft human faces are?” She playfully pinched his cheeks. Brian couldn’t help but blush, feeling slightly flustered. Philia’s expression and voice then softened as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m truly sorry, but I must go now. I am needed elsewhere. But I shall bless the last leg of your journey. Take care of yourself, my dear Brian…”
She vanished, soon enough, Leaving Brian alone in the field.
Chapter 7
Brian spent some time fiddling with the Hermes device, trying to find his way around the parameters of its function. After finally figuring it out, all he needed to do was decide which level he would travel to. The first that came to mind was The Hub. If the horned Keymaster was likely to have gone anywhere, it would definitely be there. And so, he punched in the coordinates of The Hub, before disappearing in a flash.
The Hub felt very different to Brian now. Perhaps it was because he was no longer attuned to it in that way he had been as The Keyamaster, or perhaps something innate within the level itself had changed. Regardless, he knew he needed to keep moving. The horned Keymaster was likely residing in the Tower, and so Brian would have to find an entrance to it.
As Brian trudged through the tunnels of The Hub, lugging all the heavy items on his person, he was reminded of yet another obstacle against mortal humans which he took for granted as The Keymaster. He found himself missing The Keymaster’s cloak, which contained a pocket dimension in its interior that he could store whatever he wanted without being weighed down.
As Brian trudged through the tunnels, he was called out to by another wanderer. “Hey there, traveler. You seem a bit burdened by all those things.”
“What, are you trying to rob me?” Brian sneered.
The wanderer chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m just someone who likes to help their fellow man. Name’s Zarien, but everyone likes to call me The Awesome Kid.”
“Who’s ‘everyone’?” he deadpanned.
“Doesn’t matter. Point is, I can help you out with your encumberment.” He leaned towards Brian, holding his hand over the side of his face as he whispered into his ear. “I can make you a Worn Sack.”
“Oh, I get it now. You’re not trying to rob me; you’re trying to sell me drugs.”
Zarien huffed with frustration, shaking his head. “No! I can make something that’ll let you carry all those without being slowed down so much.”
At this, Brian became intrigued. “Well okay, I’m interested. What’s the payment?”
Zarien chuckled, tossing his hair. “First one’s on the house, because I like you.” Brian watched as Zavriel proceeded to bring out several supplies, among them being a vacuum cleaner bag, and fiddle with them before producing a backpack. “Here, take it for a spin.”
Brian cautiously placed all his items into the sack, finding to his surprise that it instantly became lighter, almost as if there was barely anything in it. But all the items were still in fact there when he checked. “Huh, that actually worked. Thanks.”
Zavriel winked at Brian as he once again proceeded on his journey. When Brian turned around to look at him again, he was no longer there.
Eventually, after a long time of wandering The Hub, Brian finally found the Tower. He was now on high alert, arming himself with an Iron Fist dagger and crossbow so that he would not be caught off guard in a potential ambush. Strangely, however, the tower was eerily silent, with there being no sign of other life present.
Brian ascended the spiral stairs of the tower, eventually reaching the inner sanctum. If the horned Keymaster was anywhere, it would no-doubt be here. However, there still was no sign of another presence besides Brian. As he continued through the inner sanctum, he then came upon a shocking discovery. One of the level doors was completely destroyed, with only charred scorch marks in its place. But this was no ordinary level door. It was in fact the door to the Middlesorts, It seemed that the horned Keymaster was already gone from this universe, and wanted to prevent anyone from following him.
A chill ran down Brian’s spine at the thought of this. Was it too late for him? Was everything already doomed?
No. He couldn’t give up, not yet. He still needed to try, somehow, to find the horned Keymaster. Brian took out the Hermes device, planning to use it to backtrack to Level 906. However, he found that he couldn’t yet reuse it, as it was currently in a cooldown period from the previous use. He sighed, beginning to travel on foot.
Brian dragged his feet through the tunnels once again, waiting for the cooldown period to expire. Suddenly, however, he was startled by a heavy thud against one of the level doors, which visibly shook from the force. Brian looked at the door, realizing it was the one leading to Level 813. The heavy banging persisted, gradually becoming more forceful until a feral penumbra suddenly burst through bellowing a fearsome howl.
How is this possible?! Brian thought with bewilderment, before realizing that without him as The Keymaster, The Hub was no longer safe from hostile entities.
The feral penumbra’s ravenous eyes instantly set upon Brian, and at that moment he knew it was time to get the fuck out of dodge.
Brian’s breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted through the tunnels. The sound of scraping claws against concrete walls echoed behind him, sending shivers down his spine. He dared not glance back, but he could feel the presence of the pursuing penumbra, drawn to the scent of his fear. Its breath seemed to freeze the air, sending a chill through the labyrinthine passages.
Brian's footsteps reverberated through the empty tunnels, His heart pounding in his chest like a drum and threatening to burst from his ribcage like an escaping prisoner. The penumbra closed the distance, its frenzied breath being the only thing Brian could hear besides his own heartbeat. With a surge of adrenaline, pushed himself to the limits of his endurance. He looked down at the Hermes device, whose cooldown period finally ended at that exact moment. He furiously punched in the coordinates to Level 906, vanishing just as the penumbra pounced upon him.
Blanche looked down upon Brian with mild surprise as he suddenly spilled onto her carpet from thin air. “How has your quest gone so far, dear?” She asked.
Brian grunted and shook his head as he slowly stood up, dusting himself off. “It’s a no-go… looks like he’s already gone from this universe…” He grunted with frustration as he shoved the hermes device back into the worn sack. “Even worse, The Hub isn’t safe from hostile entities anymore. I got ambushed by some kind of monstrous version of a Penumbra.”
Blanche appeared concerned by this information. “I’ve heard many reports of such creatures by now. Apparently, they have been appearing throughout many levels,” she remarked, showing a parchment scroll to Brian. It appeared to depict a “map” of the backrooms, with splots of ink appearing wherever the feral penumbras had been sighted. “I believe this fallen Keymaster is behind it. He’s likely created them as a diversion against those powerful enough to pursue or stop him.”
Brian sighed and grunted in frustration. “I don’t know what to do anymore…I feel like I’m out of options. I don’t think I can do this…” He was beginning to heavily doubt himself. He found it foolish to believe that he as a normal human could stop such a powerful enemy alone.
“In my time here, I’ve seen humans do what many would consider to be ‘impossible’.”
“Don’t give up just yet, dear. I may not be able to provide further help, but…I may know someone who can.”
“Who’s that?” Asked Brian.
There seems to be a twinkle in Blanche’s eyes. “Venture deeper into the archive, and you will see.”
Brian was initially apprehensive about this. He had often heard about how it was dangerous for humans to get lost in this level, both mentally and physically. But he trusted Blanche, and knew she wouldn’t let him get hurt.
And so, Brian did as Blanche instructed. He could hear her disembodied voice guiding him as he traveled. “That’s it, dear, you’re on the right path. Just follow my voice. This way…” As he ventured deeper and deeper, the library began to “change”. He couldn’t exactly figure out what was changing, but its structure, colors and overall style were different from Cygnus Archive, transitioning from baroque to arcane. Alongside the library, Blanche’s voice also seemed to transition, becoming deeper and more masculine.
Finally, Brian would enter a room where a looming figure made of book pages sat upon an armchair. “Hello, Brian.”
Chapter 8
Brian studied the being with great curiosity. “Who are you?” He asked.
The figure chuckled. “Why, I’m the very same person you were speaking with but a minute ago.”
“You’re Blanche?”
“Well, not quite. I don’t exactly answer to that name here. Although ‘Blanche’ and I are the same being, we are… two different chapters of the same book.”
Brian became confused. “‘Here’?”
“This is no longer the universe that you know. It is the same dream, and I am the same dreamer, but this region of the library overlaps with a different universe. Here, I am known as The Storyteller; a different role for a different reality.”
Brian looked around. “So, is the rogue Keymaster in this universe?”
The Storyteller sighed. “He was, although…” He reached into the parchment folds of his robes, plucking off one of its sheets. He then turned it towards Brian, revealing it to be Maria’s drawing of the horned Keymaster. “A similar incident unfolded. He had already visited this universe before your own.”
⠀
Brian was confused. “Wait, so why did you bring me here? What’s so special about this reality?”
“You don’t seem to see the bigger picture. This is the native reality of another Keymaster you have met in the past. Perhaps you may find the aid you seek from him…”
With that, a passageway opened in the library, leading into The Hub. The Storyteller pointed towards it. “Go on, then. We haven’t much time left.”
As Brian stepped through the entrance, he found himself in the tower of The Hub. There, he came upon a rather odd sight. The bearded Keymaster lay comatose in bed, with The Alchemist and Philia tending to him by his side. He looked worse for wear, with sparse gray hairs apparent all throughout his head and face. He was without his coat, left only with a turtleneck sweater on his top half. Maria, who wore the coat, laid beside him, curled up against his side and hugging his arm. She stared at him, as if he’d disappear if she looked away.
Brian gently set his worn sack down on the ground as he slowly approached the bearded Keymaster’s bedside. Philia and The Alchemist seemed to pay little mind to his sudden presence, as if already aware of his identity and intentions. “What’s happening to him?” he asked the others.
“His Life Force is rapidly dwindling. I’ve given him several Vitae Elixirs, but they haven’t done much,” replied The Alchemist.
“How did he get like this?”
“He was attacked by an alternate version of himself, who stole his power before leaving this universe. It was the same one that you encountered.”
“Wait, how do you know that?” Brian began to ask, before realizing that this Alchemist was likely capable of reading his mind in the same way as The Alchemist of his own universe. That was when a sudden realization dawned upon him. “He’s been stealing the powers of other Keymasters! That’s how he’s planning to gain enough power to break the seal!”
Brian frantically paced about the chamber. “I…I need to find him. I need to stop him. But how can I even get out of this universe?”
“Well, there was a door to the Middlesorts, but the horned Keymaster destroyed it on his way out,” replied The Alchemist.
Brian cursed under his breath. “So am I stranded here? With no way to regain my power?”
The Alchemist stepped forth, adjusting his glasses. “Not entirely true. There is one way for you to gain some power…” He looked off to the side. “…but you may not like it.”
Brian shook his head. “Look, I don’t care at this point. Just tell me what it is.”
“Well…some time ago, The Keymaster sent forth one of his champions to try stealing my lens. But I instead made him my own champion, and took away his championship of the Keymaster.” He then reached into his lab coat, pulling out a small glass jar full of black gunk with a label written “🗝️Brain Sauce🗝️” taped across the front. “I saved the essence that I collected from him. In theory, it contains some of the Keymaster’s own essence, which would grant some of his power if one were to ingest it.”
Brian thought for a moment, before sighing and turning to the Alchemist. “‘I’ll do it.”
“Bon appéit!” The Alchemist said as he tossed the jar to Brian.
Brian stared down at the jar he held in his hands with a look of disgusted apprehension. However, he already made a promise, and did not wish to damage his pride any further by backing out. He carefully unscrewed the lid, releasing a pungent rusty odor comparable to that of stale blood. He slowly lifted the jar to his face, taking a deep breath before tilting it downward. Brian’s face scrunched tightly together as he cringed hard, almost immediately wanting to gag the moment he tasted it. The black gunk gradually disappeared from the jar, and when it was completely empty, he tossed it aside. He quickly clamped his hand over his mouth, kneeling down to retch as he struggled to keep it down.
Initially, there did not appear to be any visible effect. But then he stood to his feet, standing up straight and looking down at his hands. “I feel it…my strength is returning…” he murmured, clenching his fists. He then turned his attention to the destroyed level door, stepping towards it. Brian placed his hand upon the wall, closing his eyes to concentrate as a faint blue sparkling light appeared around him. The broken pieces of the door began shifting, miraculously reassembling and repairing itself. Eventually, the door to the Middlesorts once again stood, completely restored. “Great!” Brian exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Now all we need is the key.” He prepared to generate the key, however he found that he was unable to do so.
“It seems that you’re not yet restored to your full power. That amount of essence was only enough to make a champion, after all,” Philia stated.
“Goddamnit.” Brian grunted, looking around. “How are we going to get there now?”
A sudden noise from within the worn sack drew everyone’s attention, as it mysteriously began stirring. Brian cautiously approached it, opening to see what was inside. He was caught off guard as The Catmaster suddenly leapt out. He had to have somehow snuck into the worn sack when Brian was in The Hub.
“Kitty!” Philia exclaimed, as she knelt down to pet him. Maria hoisted up the Catmaster from behind, swinging it around a bit.
As Brian studied the Catmaster, he suddenly had an idea. He knew for a fact that the catmaster could generate level keys. And if they were all the same ones that The Keymaster could, then it stood to reason that he could have a key to the Middlesorts.
Brian picked up The Catmaster, staring into its beady eyes. “If you can hear me, I need a key to the Middlesorts.” He stated.
The Catmaster simply stared blankly, blinking a single time before proceeding to absentmindedly lick its own crotch.
“I know you can understand what I’m saying! Come on! Cough it up!” He shook The Catmaster around like a stuffed animal, but it remained aloof with a stonewall dumb cat expression.
“Really? Is this what you’re gonna make me do?” Brian sighed with despair. “Fine, fuck it..” he set the cat down on the ground, bowing before it as if he were worshiping a god. “O great and powerful Gatekeeper, I humbly come before you to ask of you a blessing in the form of a key!”
Suddenly, a key spewed from The Catmaster’s mouth like a hairball, landing before Brian. He excitedly picked it up, wiping off the saliva and cat hair. “I got it!”
Just as he was about to proceed to the door, a feral penumbra burst into the chamber out of nowhere, shrieking like a haunting blizzard wind. It seemed that they were also present in this universe, and likely whichever other ones that the horned Keymaster had also visited. Maria shrieked in terror at the sight, hiding behind everyone in fright.
Everyone was prepared to defend themselves, but the blade of The Crimson Wanderer suddenly tore through the penumbra, as he suddenly arrived to help. “More will be coming here soon. You must go, now!” The Crimson Wanderer shouted to Brian.
Maria looked up at Brian, her half-face expressing a mixture of confusion and concern. “Where are you going? Can I come?” she signed.
Brian shook his head, kneeling down to face her. “No, no. It’s too dangerous for you. You need to stay here and look after The Keymaster for me. ” He ruffled her hair before turning around.
The Catmaster hopped into the worn sack, which Brian slung over his shoulder as he inserted the Middlesorts key into the door, proceeding to open it and enter.
Brian was immediately enveloped in a blindingly bright light, which gradually faded as his vision adjusted. He looked all around to see a relatively ordinary clinical waiting room. What made it unordinary, however, was the sheer variety of beings from many universes. Some were relatively humanoid, while others didn’t even have bodies in a traditional sense. There were, of course, humans from various different groups; but there were also Facelings, Highborn, Lunar Chimeras, Glowfolk, Penumbras, and many others.
Brian barely had time to look around and gain his bearings before suddenly bumping into an enthusiastic human, who wore a red trucker hat with the word “GAMER” plastered across it.
“No way, dude, is that the Key Guy?!” Peter Todd exclaimed. “You’re the coolest entity! Is it really true that you drive a Bugatti?”
Brian was dumbfounded. “W-what?” he stammered with confusion.
“Dude, it’d be sick to have you on my podcast sometime.”
Brian scoffed and pushed Peter out of the way, not having the time to continue the conversation. He strode past the table stacked with magazines (including a copy of Forbes with a leech on the cover), past the vending machine full of strange snacks, and past the humming television, before finally reaching the desk.
Despite lacking facial features, Molly, the corpus core seated at the desk, already appeared fed up even before Brian reached her. “Sigh…welcome to The Middlesorts, what can I do for ya?” She groaned in a deadpan tone.
“I’m looking for someone. Tall, has keys and chains, wears a mask with antlers…has anyone like that passed through here?” Asked Brian.
Molly’s attention was piqued, before she proceeded to sigh. “I just had a feeling that guy would be bad news…yeah, I saw him pass through a while ago. Come to think of it, I helped him travel to another universe,” she said to Brian, whose eyes widened in response.
“What?! Do you even know what you’ve done by helping him? Ma’am, you have no idea how dangerous he is! He could bring about the destruction of every reality!”
“Look, I only did what he asked because it’s my job. It’s not our business what other people’s business is on their trips. Our only responsibility is getting them to their destination.” When she finished saying this, Brian was about to speak, but then she continued. “You ‘god’ types are nothing but trouble – Avatars, Emblems, Archetypes, Empyreans, whatever you’re called…” she scoffed. “You’re always dragging us into your drama, and communicating with your groups is such a bureaucratic nightmare. Our job is already a pain in the arse as it is, we don’t need those Time Keepers breathing down our necks so we won’t screw up their oh-so-precious ‘timelines’!” She huffed with frustration. “And we have to deal with you across every reality, not just one!”
Molly’s rant was abruptly cut short as Simon approached her, dropping a stack of papers on the desk “This just came in from Humanoid Resources…” he grunted.
Moly skimmed the papers, her demeanor suddenly becoming alarmed. “An upcoming audit?!” She looked back up at Brian. “-Okay, okay! Fine, I’ll try to help you. Just tell me what you need…” She finally relented.
“Can you give me the current location of the horned Keymaster?”
Molly looked at Brian like he had five heads — which, come to think of it, probably wouldn’t actually be that weird to her. “Afraid not. His most recently recorded entry on our manifest was traveling to the universe you just came from. Seems like he’s since found his own means of interdimensional travel.”
“Is there really no way to track him?”
“Well…” Molly thought for a moment. “I suppose there may be one way, though we would need something linked to his very being in order to do so…”
Brian suddenly had an idea. “That's it!” He set the worn sack down on the desk, opening it and pulling out the Hermes device and Catmaster, who tilted its head with a confused “meow?”. “If he has my cloak, then these two things could be used to track him, since they contain parts of it.”
Molly sighed, resting her elbows on the desk. “Just give me the items, and I’ll see what I can do.” Reluctantly, Brian handed the Hermes device and Catmaster to Molly, who proceeded to hook them up to the terminal. After some clacking upon the keyboard of the terminal, she took on a puzzled expression. “Odd. Apparently he is in Level HELP.”
“What?”
“That mean something to you?”
“Yeah, actually…that’s my-… The Keymaster’s prison realm…”
“Well, if he’s as dangerous as you say, you should stop him quickly. Here, I’ll open the gateway.” Not a moment later, a nearby set of double doors opened.
Brian placed the Catmaster and Hermes device back into the worn sack, before staring apprehensively into the darkness behind the doors. It was foreboding, like the gaping maw of a monster. But he was the only one who could do this – or at least, the only one willing enough to do it. More like stupid enough.
“Are you going to move already, or continue your internal monologue? You’re holding up a line.” Molly suddenly said, pulling Brian out of his thoughts.
“-O-oh, right, sorry…” he murmured, as he cautiously proceeded through the door into the unknown…
Chapter 9
Brian emerged into a void populated by sporadic energy storms, absent of any content save for the central structure surrounded by towering walls. The air was oppressively heavy with a sense of dread, as distant echoes of despair reverberated through the void. Hesitantly, Brian set off towards the inside of the structure, his steps echoing loudly in the silence of the realm.
As Brian proceeded through the corridors, he noticed figures lurking in the shadows behind prison bars. Upon closer inspection, he found to his horror that they were in fact other versions of himself – or rather, The Keymaster. Some looked like himself and the bearded keymaster, yet there were many others who appeared entirely different. They were all of different species, ages and genders. One appeared similarly to The Keymaster, though with a more distinctly feminine appearance. Another was rather tall, with only an ominous keyhole for a face, and Another had a key-shaped head. Yet another appeared like Mortis Abelson as The Keymaster, wielding a key-shaped scythe. And then another appeared similarly to the bearded Keymaster, though with a blue belt. And then…wait, why did that one look like a badger? And a Roblox character? And a Toilet?! What the fuck?
Each of these variants were trapped within their own cell, their faces etched with sorrow and desperation. Some stared at Brian with hollow eyes, while others muttered to themselves incoherently. Brian’s heart sank at the sight of his counterparts, imprisoned and helpless.
Brian turned around, only to come face-to-face with the horned Keymaster standing right before him. On instinct, he pulled an Iron Fist gun from the worn sack. He felt the runes burn his hand to the touch, wincing and crying out in pain as his hand shook. He powered through the pain and squeezed the trigger, unloading several bullets towards the horned Keymaster at point blank.
The horned Keymaster did not physically react in any way, remaining completely unflinching and unphased. “I am quite disappointed. I thought you learned by now that such weapons are harmless against me. Did you not remember reading about that when you stole the Hermes device and Pandora’s Pithos?”
Brian backed away slightly, a sense of building dread rising up within him. “H-how did you-”
The horned Keymaster scoffed, waving his hand. “Oh, I have been watching your every move this entire time. I will admit, it was quite amusing to watch you flounder about on your pathetic little quest, desperately grasping for whatever possible advantage you could find in order to reach me, under the naïve belief that you would be prepared to face me. Tell me, did you even plan this far ahead? What exactly did you think would happen once you got here? That you could just stun me with that gun and then take my power with that pithos?” He made a flicking motion with his hand, and the worn sack was ejected somewhere deep into the void of the level as it disappeared from sight. Suddenly, Brian found himself involuntarily falling to his knees, completely paralyzed. “If I wished to, I could kill you right now with a mere thought…but that would not be satisfying. After all, what thrill is there to be derived from crushing a helpless insect? I believe that your efforts have earned yourself a greater privilege. You shall instead be the audience to my triumph. You may reside here with the rest of our brothers, and await the victory I shall achieve with our power. All of our suffering will finally end, and we shall be free.” The horned Keymaster pointed a single bony key-finger forth, launching Brian backwards into a cell which promptly slammed shut. The horned Keymaster then vanished from sight.
With the wind completely knocked out of him, it took some time for Brian to recover. He eventually sat upright, pressing his back against the stone wall of his cell. Huh, so this is what it’s like… He mused, peering into a cell next to his own and finding the bearded Keymaster. He suddenly perked up and attempted to get his attention. “Psst- Hey…” Brian whispered.
The bearded Keymaster slowly craned his neck to peer at Brian, finally taking notice of his presence. “Who are you, mortal, daring to vie for my attention like I'm a common man?” He sneered.
“We’ve met before, you just don’t recognize me. Remember when you were stranded in that other universe?” Brian replied.
The realization finally dawned upon the bearded Keymaster, whose eyes widened with recognition. “Brother…you…are a human? How absurd! No human could possibly live up to my title.” He felt faint, leaning back onto the cell wall to catch his breath.
“What happened to you?” Brian asked, ignoring the snide remarks that the bearded Keymaster threw his way.
The bearded Keymaster sat up slightly, attempting to choke out words in between coughs. “A doppelganger of myself attempted to recruit me into a mysterious cause. When I refused, we fought, and he stole my power. I lost consciousness, and when I awoke, I found myself here.”
Brian was confused. “Wait, but I saw you in your own universe. You were lying unconscious in bed…”
The bearded keymaster scoffed. “I will say, the fellow with the key crown makes for much better company than you do. At least he actually knows himself.”
“Who?” Asked Brian, as he peered into a cell next him from the other side. Sure enough, he saw Gatekeeper sitting within.
“Here I reside, a prisoner of my own prison…” Gatekeeper murmured to himself.
Brian did a double-take. “Hey, you!”
Gatekeeper slowly turned his head to face Brian. “Who are you…?” He asked in a daze.
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe the human you’ve shared a body, mind and soul with for the past ten fucking years?!”
Gatekeeper’s gaze became more focused and began to fixate on Brian, as the realization dawned upon him. “My…it is indeed you…”
Being faced with the literal representation of all his hardships, this brought up many emotions within Brian…not many of which were positive. “Do you know how much hell you’ve put me through? How many messes of yours that I had to clean up? How many of your relationships I had to mend as if they were my own!”
Gatekeeper became more confrontational. “And how do you think I felt? For my divine blood to be polluted with mortal sewage? For my power to be limited? For my memories to be fragmented? Believe me, I had as little say in our relationship as you.”
Brian was about to continue the argument, before realizing something. “Wait…you don’t have a body. You’re supposed to just be a floating cloak…” He then realized that neither Gatekeeper nor the bearded Keymaster resided here in the flesh, but rather as their very souls. This prison held the souls of all the Keymasters that the horned Keymaster had defeated. “This isn’t just a prison…it’s a power generator…”
The bearded Keymaster was confused. “What does that mean?”
“It means I really need your help. The fate of every reality depends on it.”
The bearded Keymaster sighed. “Even if we wanted to help, how do you expect us to? We are all just as powerless here.”
“For fuck's sake!” Brian exclaimed, before instantly regretting it upon remembering who he was saying it to. “Look, with how much is at stake here, the least you could do is try to help. You don’t know how lucky you are, or how much you take for granted. It looks like you’ve got so many people who care about you…you have a family…”
At this, Gatekeeper’s expression appeared to sadden. He knew just what Brian meant.
It was at that moment that a faint “meow” echoed across the corridors of the prison. The three beings turned their heads to see none other than The Catmaster sitting outside their cells, a key clutched in its mouth.
Brian grinned at this. “Clever cat…” He chuckled.
The Catmaster leapt up and inserted the key into the lock of Gatekeeper’s cell with its mouth, before spinning its body around to turn the key. Gatekeeper’s cell door swung open as it was unlocked, and he emerged from it with a renewed vigor.
“My power…it has returned. I once again have control over this prison…” Gatekeeper stood silent for a moment, concentrating on his power to open the cells of all the imprisoned Keymasters and set them free. The imprisoned Keymasters emerged from their cells, their expressions a mix of disbelief and gratitude. Brian’s cell would open as well, and as he exited, Gatekeeper looked down to him. “You are no longer obligated to help. But…if you still wish to…” he extended his hand forth.
Brian paused to consider. This was his out. He wouldn’t have to involve himself in this craziness anymore. But…what would he do then? He would simply be trading this form of craziness for another. If he did this, though, it would at least be something worthwhile.
Brian firmly shook Gatekeeper’s hand. In a flash, Gatekeeper’s body vanished, leaving only his cloak in its place. The cloak moved of its own accord, before fixating on Brian. Before he even knew what was happening, the black mass jumped onto him, enveloping his entire body in its embrace. As Brian thrashed about, the cloak tightened, squeezing him in a vice-like grip. The air rushed from his lungs, and his bones cracked. He could feel his insides shifting around, tearing apart, threatening to explode from within him. The pain was unbearably excruciating, too much for him to even scream. His mind was forcefully invaded with foreign thoughts and concepts.
Access….Access…Access… it was all Brian could think of, even above the excruciating pain. He could see everything. Every door, every threshold, every lock, everything that could be Accessed. Fleeting images of dark cosmos, black tendrils, and an inverted pyramid flashed before his eyes. Darkness surrounded him, and from the darkness emerged The Keymaster.
Now that The Keymaster was free, he had a score to settle. He approached the glowing orb at the center of Level HELP — the key forge. He had not used it in years, but for this, it was needed. He inserted his hands into the glowing orb and aligned himself with the power of Access which he commanded, channeling this power into the forging of the key. All the while, he held the horned Keymaster in his mind. Eventually, The Keymaster produced a freshly forged key, one linked to the precise location of his horned counterpart. He stabbed it into the air, opening a gateway leading deep into the Blue Channel. Summoning every ounce of his determination and courage, he passed through the gateway.
Chapter 10
The Keymaster emerged into the infinite expanse of the Blue Channel, finding himself amidst a bloom of Saberzoa which scattered away. The yawning blue void sprawled endlessly around him from all directions. Where the Middlesorts would have resided in a lower dimension was instead a pulsating blue light. This was its truest form; the nexus of all existence, its beating heart.
The horned Keymaster stood before The Keymaster, his back facing him. Upon sensing his presence, he slowly turned around, gazing upon him. “And so the first Keymaster meets the last Keymaster, at the nexus of existence.” He crossed his arms. “No doubt just as Kei’ intended – but now I will be free. My time as a slave is over.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it…” The Keymaster proclaimed, stepping forth.
“The time for talking has long passed. You are here in your full power, and thus subject to my full power. You shall die, and with the power of your soul, I shall break the seal and be master of my own fate once again.”
The horned Keymaster began to levitate above the nexus, as portals into different realities opened all around him. Large, oppressive chains materialized around his body and shot themselves into the portals, crisscrossing through many universes, as he tethered and anchored himself to them. A crimson-red aura emanated from him and began to spread further outward, darkening the Blue Channel itself into this very same shade as if it were bleeding out like a wounded animal.
The Keymaster poised himself to battle his horned counterpart, but stopped when he noticed entire hordes of feral Penumbras emerging from some of the rifts, standing behind the horned Keymaster as an army at his command. The
Keymaster’s confidence wavered, but nonetheless he stood his ground.
As it would turn out, however, The Keymaster did not have to fight them alone. One of the feral penumbra’s heads suddenly exploded from the blast of a powerful gun. The Keymaster turned back to find the source of the shot.
There stood a Keymaster clad in high-tech armor, flanked by Travelers, Black Knights and Counter-Entities armed with blades and firearms. Behind them loomed an enormous macchina mech named PORTUNUS. “You seem to have left this behind…” Pathfinder said, holding Pandora’s Pithos in his hand.
The Keymaster stood aside as the two armies charged forth. The feral penumbras clashed with the Travelers, Counter-Entities and Black Knights. Meanwhile, Pathfinder activated and piloted PORTUNUS, storming towards the horned Keymaster.
The horned Keymaster surprisingly made quick work of the mech, ensnaring it in chains and tearing away at the armor. But that didn’t seem to be the point. As it turned out, it was but a distraction, as the horned Keymaster only found an empty cockpit when he tore it open. Pathfinder stood behind him, taking the opportunity to activate Pandora’s pithos. There was a sudden blinding flash of light, accompanied by a low thud that created a shockwave. The horned Keymaster cried out in agony and crumpled down to a kneeling position on one knee. He was temporarily too weakened to do anything. Pathfinder stood above him smugly, but was caught off guard when the horned Keymaster suddenly shot up and plunged a sharp key deep into his chest like a shank. He then ripped it out, causing golden sparkling blood to spurt out from Pathfinder’s chest cavity as he fell and dropped Pandora’s Pithos, the life fading from him.
In that moment, what remained of the feral penumbras succeeded in decimating what remains of the Travelers, Counter-Entities and Black Knights, completely tearing them apart.
The horned Keymaster cackled raspily. “My, was that the most help you could acquire? That barely impeded me…” The remaining feral penumbras gathered back together, prepared to pounce on The Keymaster at the horned Keymaster’s command.
“He has more help than you know…” a voice called out. The bearded Keymaster suddenly emerged from a portal and approached The Keymaster, standing beside him. Then, a vast array of portals opened all around them, from which each emerged a different Keymaster from a different reality. They all rallied behind The Keymaster and his bearded brother against the horned Keymaster. Whatever their allegiances were, whether any disagreed with each other’s morals or ideologies, they all set it aside for this moment in service of a greater cause. They had all come together, and they had come to help. That meant something very profound.
All the Keymasters stood tall, entering their battle stances. The Keymaster conjured his key-sword and pointed it forth towards the horned Keymaster. “CHAAAAARGE!”
All the Keymasters shouted battle cries, readying their weapons and powers as they charged forth towards the horned Keymaster.
Then, they…clashed. In that singular moment, the timelines, destinies and trajectories of all the Keymasters became inseparably intersected and intertwined, sending a ripple effect all throughout the Omniverse at every level.
“Mreow!” The Catmaster hissed as he pounced onto the horned Keymaster’s face, scratching up his mask and obscuring his vision as he thrashed about.
“Rahghhh! Get off of me, you foul beast!” The Horned Keymaster hissed, thrashing about before tossing the cat aside like a ragdoll. He looked up, only to see that he was surrounded from all sides by various Keymasters.
As they kept him busy, The Keymaster retrieved Pandora’s Pithos. He twisted the top half like a dial, and suddenly, there was another flash and thud. Now, the power it had absorbed from the horned Keymaster was imbued into The Keymaster and the bearded Keymaster, greatly empowering them both.
Now, with both of their key rings glowing white, The two Keymasters looked down upon the horned Keymaster. They cracked their knuckles before proceeding to lay the smackdown upon him, with all the other Keymasters joining in as well. The bearded Keymaster grabbed ahold of the antlers attached to the horned Keymaster’s mask, yanking his head down and ramming his knee against his mask, cracking it and sending the horned Keymaster staggering back.
In response, the horned Keymaster roared with fury. A visceral, venomous guttural chant in forbidden tongues echoed from his throat as all the Keymasters around him fell to their knees, helpless to stop the horned Keymaster from violently tearing their soul-keys away from them and taking their power, tearing their very bodies apart in the process. The remains of the Keymasters floated about the void in an assortment of cloaks, keys and body parts.
Now, only the three Keymasters remained, who were all equal in power.
The horned Keymaster faced the two others. “Their deaths were a necessary sacrifice, so that I may win my freedom — as will yours be…” He taunted. The two other Keymasters proceeded to dive towards him and tackle him down. The three Keymasters plunged into the nexus, the very concept of space and time unraveling as they dispersed across a vast expanse of infinite intertwining realities in which their battle raged ever-onward.
They saw glimpses into many different realities, becoming increasingly alien as they expanded further outward. The Keymaster gazed into the infinite blue, seeing the smallest specks of islands amongst the aetheric backdrop. It was there, from this vantage point, that he gazed into the face of eternity, finally realizing just how small he was. How everything he had ever known was but an infinitesimal drop in the infinite ocean. It was a humbling sight to behold.
But this was not the time for sightseeing. This was a battle for the very fate of the multiverse. They moved through universes and timelines like phantoms, leaving a trail of cosmic chaos in their wake. Each clash echoed with the resonance of creation and destruction, playing out a cosmic symphony in the tapestry of reality. Their battle transcended dimensions, sending shockwaves through the multiverse. They soared through universes like shooting stars, leaving trails of cosmic energy in their wake. The Keymaster, with fluid grace, evaded the Horned Keymaster's strikes, each movement a dance of celestial proportions not unlike the dances he performed as Gatekeeper at the dawn of creation.
Their forms would eventually stabilize, as the Keymasters clashed through level after level in every version of The Backrooms. The flickering lights and labyrinthine passages bore witness to their cosmic duel, each realm becoming a battleground in their war of Access.
They drowned in swimming pools, tumbled down rolling green hills, smashed through windows, destroyed neon lights, fell down spiraling stairs, tore up pink bedrooms, ran through desolate corridors, crashed parties, burned down forests, and broke games.
Being cut from the same cloth, they were equally matched. They each knew the full extent of the other’s capabilities. By now, it had become more a battle of wit rather than one of strength. The clash of their powers sent shockwaves through the multiverse, rippling through the fabric of existence. As the cosmic struggle continued, the destiny of the multiverse hung in the balance, the outcome uncertain in the boundless expanse of realities.
Finally, the battle reached its zenith as they clashed through many different layers of level 0. The flickering fluorescent lights cast an unsettling glow as The Keymaster and the Horned Keymaster faced off amidst the buzzing hum of the ethereal realm. They clashed in rooms that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions. The walls pulsated with an otherworldly energy as The Keymaster attempted to bind his evil counterpart with chains of pure light. However, the Horned Keymaster effortlessly shattered the chains, dark energy emanating from his horns. They fought and fought, until ultimately reaching the very heart of the realm.
It would be there that the seal was revealed to reside, just like that. The horned Keymaster cackled at the absurdity of it all. “And to think, it was here all this time…” he rasped, attempting to place his hand upon it. The Keymaster and his bearded counterpart leapt forth to stop the horned Keymaster, but he swatted them aside. In a blind fury, he repeatedly slashed his chains at the seal, before breaking it.
Suddenly, the three keymasters found themselves suspended within a sprawling expanse of white and gray. It was emptiness beyond and before everything. In the distance, what first appeared to be large black serpents slowly slithered through the fog.
Tremors emanated all throughout the void in the advent of a monolithic presence, arising before them as an island would arise from the sea. Its incomprehensible proportions could only be measured in light-time. It radiated the darkest blacks and the most lustrous golds, crowned with an inverted pyramid. What were first thought to be goliath serpents were in fact its tendrils. A mortal would instantly die in its presence, let alone comprehend it. It evoked the same primordial fear and awe that one feels late at night, pondering their insignificance in the vast aether. Admittedly, the Keymasters felt this as well. They all had yet to directly encounter this presence, but deep down, they already knew. It was themselves, as they were it, as it was every iteration of themselves – their higher self, their oversoul…Kei’.
The horned Keymaster fell to his knees, raising his hands upward in prostration. “Pillar of Access, hear me! For ages untold, I studied your ways, devoting my existence to you. I strove to be your vessel on the physical plane, to break the seal which has bound you for eternity; and now, this I have achieved. In return, I only demand but one thing: the freedom which I have rightfully earned!”
The horned Keymaster was only met with resounding, apathetic silence, without so much as even the mere acknowledgement of his existence.
“…After all I have done, you dare to ignore me?!” He rose to his feet. “Why must this be?! I have granted you the freedom you have sought for eons! I have fulfilled the purpose for which you created me! What more should I have done?! What more do you want from me?! Hear me, Kei’!” He cried to the heavens above.
The pyramid atop Kei’ slowly, subtly shifted — seeming to be the very first acknowledgment of the horned Keymaster. The stillness of the void was shattered by the words which emanated from it in reply. “FOR YOUR ROLE, I COMMEND YOU. FOR YOUR PART, I APPLAUD YOU. AND FOR YOUR HELP, I GRANT YOU A GIFT…” Suddenly, a mass of black barbed tendrils exploded from the horned Keymaster’s chest, impaling him from behind. “AN END TO YOUR SUFFERING.” The horned Keymaster coughed, spurting blood from his mouth. “I RELIEVE YOU, FIRSTBORN, OF YOUR DUTY — OF THE BURDEN OF FATE. OTHERS MAY CARRY ON IN YOUR STEAD.”
“May they be rewarded for their service…as I am…” The horned Keymaster croaked through his own blood in which he drowned. His body fell lifelessly limp and his mask fell from his face, clattering down with a heavy thud. As the tendrils dematerialized, The horned Keymaster slowly drifted down, sinking into the blackness of the abyss as he disappeared.
The desolate landscape of the Gelid Isle echoed with the haunting cries of feral Penumbras, their icy breath freezing the air. A horde began to close in on all sides towards an assembly of gods preparing for battle.
The Red Knight brandished a gleaming sword that seemed to catch fire in the dim light.
Kushim unsheathed a sleek katana, its blade trailing a swirling black ink-like substance.
Y'liad summoned Bittersteel, the grotesque yet deadly living blade of greyflesh writhing in his grasp.
Argos held a majestic spear, its tip pulsating with divine retribution.
The Dark Sovereign wielded a massive sword of onyx, seeming to extend from his very being.
The feral penumbras, with frost-covered hide and a predatory gleam in their eyes, descended upon the gods like a relentless tide.
The Red Knight took the lead as they charged forth, his sword cutting through the air with a fiery arc. Each swing cleaved through multiple penumbras, scattering limbs in all directions. Some penumbras managed to penetrate his armor with their claws and fangs, drawing some blood from him. The Red Knight grabbed onto a penumbra by the chest, his fingers digging into its ribs as he ripped it in half like opening a walnut
Kushim, in a graceful dance, sliced through the horde. The black ink trailing from his katana left a trail of decay in its wake, with penumbras crumbling to dust as the substance touched them. Kushim sighed, pulling out a glock as he began blasting the Penumbras in black inky splurts.
Y'liad's Bittersteel thrashed and pierced with a mind of its own, its tendrils lashing out at the creatures with precision.
Argos swiftly thrust his spear into the horde, skewering multiple penumbras upon its length like a shish kebab.
The Dark Sovereign, with stoic authority, swung his sword and stamped down his heel, sending forth razor-sharp onyx crystals that extended from the ground and impaled a score of penumbras, draining their vitality.
The gods fought in harmony, their diverse abilities creating a symphony of destruction. The Red Knight roared with the fervor of war, Kushim's katana spread its shadow of death, Y'liad reveled in the stuporous dance of Bittersteel, Argos passed judgment with his spear, and the Dark Sovereign imposed his order with deadly precision.
Eventually, all the feral penumbras were reduced to nothing more than mere streaks of black stains smearing the snow across the landscape. The gods first believed this to be their victory, but then the feral Penumbras reconstituted themselves, and even more appeared, ready for more. The gods poised themselves for battle once again,
The landscape became a battlefield between the gods and the frigid horde threatening to engulf all the levels in eternal winter. As the battle raged on, the gods formed a strategic alliance. The Red Knight's fiery onslaught cleared a path, allowing Kushim to sweep through with the dark ink of his katana. Y'liad, Argos, and the Dark Sovereign followed suit, each god complementing the others in a lethal dance of divine might. Despite the overwhelming horde of penumbras, the gods stood resolute, a united force against the encroaching darkness.
All of a sudden, all the feral penumbras abruptly dropped dead and disintegrated at once.
“What is the meaning of this?” Kushim questioned.
Kei’ turned its attention to the remaining two Keymasters, who were visibly distressed by the turn of events. “HE HARBORED FANTASIES OF REBELLION AGAINST ME, YET WAS BUT ONE OF INFINITE…AS ARE YOU. LEARN FROM HIS EXAMPLE. SERVE ME FAITHFULLY, AND YOU SHALL BE RICHLY REWARDED.”
The Keymaster felt rage arise within him, an emotion he rarely felt. “This…this is your folly! Everything is replaceable to you! Well, I will have no party to it. I am done being your pawn…”
“FREE WILL…AN AMUSING IDEA, THOUGH ULTIMATELY AN ILLUSION. YOURS ARE DESTINIES I HAVE ENGINEERED FOR ETERNITY, THROUGH EVERY SUBTLE ACTION YOU HAVE EVER PERFORMED. IF ANYTHING, YOU SHOULD EXPRESS GRATITUDE FOR HAVING FULFILLED YOUR PURPOSE, AND BEAR WITNESS TO MY GLORIOUS LIBERATION.”
Blanche, Philia and The Alchemist sat together in the Cygnus Archive, drinking tea. Suddenly, Blanche lifted her head in alert, sensing that something was very wrong in the very fabric of reality. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched, her hands shaking as she slowly set the tea cup down on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Asked Philia, who seemed to faintly sense the same thing.
“Kei’ has been freed…” Blanche breathlessly whispered.
Blanche hurriedly arose from the table and rushed towards the desk she had been writing at before Brian arrived earlier that day. Her last encounter with Kei’ gave her the means by which to find them, or at least a start to that process, and so she scribbled down memory and thought alike, drawing a path from the lingering impressions of that contact all the way to Kei’. She closed her eyes, choosing to focus on that recent memory of their last meeting, doing her best to drive away creeping doubts. They weren't exactly on the best of terms, and the absence of visits certainly would not help. To make matters worse, that last talk could have gone better. It left her with that cold, slightly bitter aftertaste often reserved for unsatisfying endings. There were things left unsaid, she thought. There was a scene left incomplete.
She took a deep breath – not that she needed to breathe. Light Guides flocked to her, swirling around like orbiting moons. She let them move past her, trying to identify one that matched that faint bitter taste. It didn't take long. Those like her left quite the mark on reality, in more ways than one. Without looking, she caught a Light Guide flying past the flower adorning the left side of her hair.
A wound suddenly opened in the void, and Kei' turned towards it, basking in the cosmic unlight which shone through it. The two Keymasters looked on with despair, believing that they had failed.
However, as they came to realize, this was not Kei’s freedom, but rather the advent of another, equally powerful presence. It manifested in the form (or lack thereof) of a winged starry space with a myriad of gleaming eyes, all set upon Kei’ in a piercing gaze. “Kei’…” A melodic resonance emanated from the presence in an echo throughout the void. The tone seemed stern, yet also pleading.
The pyramid upon Kei’ pivoted towards this presence upon its arrival. “WE MEET AGAIN, AZEL’KYRA…THOUGH IT IS TOO LATE TO STOP ME.” it sneered. However, Kei’s demeanor rapidly diminished. More presences of equal magnitude manifested as what the Keymaters perceived to be vague voices and lights – red tentacles, large dark masses, and singular eyes scrutinizing all below. The very void vibrated with the collective power of these forces amidst this confrontation.
“YIELD. SHOULD YOU CHOOSE FURTHER ESCALATION, THERE SHALL BE NOTHING TO ACCESS.”
“Come, now…let us be unbound from such formality!”
“EVEN THE FOOL GRACES MY PRESENCE…THIS OCCASION MUST TRULY BE MOMENTOUS.”
“Kei’ has indeed broken free, but let us not cast judgment so hastily. Aeons of imprisonment have already passed, without sign of improvement…perhaps that is not the proper solution.”
“Do you forget the very reason for which the seal was forged? Kei’ has threatened to tear the veil between dimensions. Even Chaos recognizes the need for balance, and Kei’s actions are truly disgraceful.”
“Begone, Xal’kyrai! Your presence is only as tolerable as Kei’s…”
“BALANCE MUST BE MAINTAINED. KEI’ JEOPARDIZES THE LONG-UPHELD EQUILIBRIUM.”
“Answer me this, Kei’… have you at all contemplated our previous interaction?”
“…I AM AMONG THE FEW WHICH TRULY VALUE MY PURPOSE. AND FOR THAT, YOU HAVE ALL SHUNNED ME…”
“Hah! All of your ‘morals’ and ‘purposes’ are vapid. Now I am reminded of why we rarely interact.”
“Perhaps, rather than retribution, the solution is instead an opportunity for redemption? To finally contribute to the cosmic tapestry once more, in a harmonious manner?”
The voices debated amongst themselves.
“Perhaps Azel’kyra is correct. Let us not rush to judgment. Kei’ may yet return to the way of balance. In granting this chance, we demonstrate the strength of our unity.”
“I will only agree so long as certain conditions are met. Kei’ – you must mend all weakened veils, and reset all of your avatars to their native realities with their souls restored. You are to conduct your role in harmony among us with responsibility…and apologize.”
“WANED MAY HAVE MY INFLUENCE, YET DIGNITY HAS NOT. WE ARE EQUALS ALL, AND I SHALL NOT BE REGARDED AS SUBORDINATE!”
“The alternative is imposing a stronger seal, reducing Access to the barest minimum necessary for existence.”
“…VERY WELL. I ACCEPT THE TERMS. I…APOLOGIZE.”
“Ha! The mighty Kei’, groveling pathetically – this truly brings joy…”
“That shall be enough, now…”
After a cosmic pause, everything began to suddenly change without warning. All of the displaced soul keys returned to their respective Keymasters, who then returned to their respective universes. Then, The Keymaster’s body vanished from sight with a flash, his cloak fluttering to the ground.
Chapter 10
“Brian…brian, honey, wake up…”
Brian slowly opened his eyes, his vision gradually adjusting to a blurry face in front of him as the faint beeps of a heart monitor pulsed in the background. When everything came into focus, he realized the person before him was his wife Jessica.
“Wha…what happened?” Brian yawned. His mouth and throat felt incredibly dry, as if having been stuffed with sand.
Jessica wrung her hands. “You…had an accident. You’ve been in a coma. I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up.”
Brian squinted as he looked around, realizing that he was lying in bed in a hospital room. “How long was I out?”
“About three days…”
Brian looked at a calendar on the wall, which showed the year “2014”. He took a moment to process this. He had gone through ten years of life in The Backrooms, yet only three days had passed in the real world. “I’ve missed you so much…you know, I had the strangest dream…it was like I was in hell.”
“Shhh…It’s alright now. You’re safe. The nightmares are over…” Jessica shushed him, hugging him and petting his head. She then looked down with a faint smirk. “You’ve probably just been reading that SCP wiki too much…”
Blanche’s eyes opened, and she once again stood in the Cygnus Archive with Philia and The Alchemist by her side. She was no longer the incomprehensible force that Kei’ knew her to be, having reverted back to her humble persona of a simple librarian. The three beings shared a brief moment of silence, before turning their attention to a collection of items that suddenly appeared before them: the Hermes device, The Catmaster, and The Keymaster’s cloak.
Philia’s breath hitched in a breathy gasp, the pink blush draining from her face. “Keymaster…is he…?” she whispered, placing a hand on her chest.
At that moment, all the gods that had been fighting in Level 813 entered the library. Upon being met with the sight of this scene, they knew what had happened.
Blanche slowly approached the cloak on the floor, gently scooping it up into her hands. “I know it was what was best. But I will still miss him dearly…” She sighed, clutching the cloak closely to her. She and Philia seemed to be holding back tears.
All the gods knelt before the cloak, in respect for The Keymaster’s sacrifices. Even The Catmaster seemed sad, sitting on the ground in front of the cloak with his head bowed.
The Alchemist gazed thoughtfully upon the items for a moment, before an idea suddenly dawned on him. “Hmm…let me see those…” he murmured, gently pulling the cloak away from Blanche as well as taking the Hermes device and Catmaster. He knelt down and began tampering with the items, cutting them apart, grafting and transplanting them together. Eventually, The Alchemist finally stepped away from his work, revealing a new Keymaster standing before everyone. He had all his memories completely intact, including Gatekeeper’s.
The first thing that The Keymaster did upon gaining consciousness was simply blink blankly in front of everyone. “Did we…did we win?”
Epilogue
The Keymaster stood solemnly within the tower. After all that had happened, he once again resigned himself to his routine of monotony. He needed this time to himself to process everything in order to move forward once again. On the surface, everything still appeared more or less the same, but he knew that things would change drastically in the fallout of the crisis.
The Keymaster was pulled from his musing thoughts when he heard one of the doors slowly open with a yawning creak. A familiar voice greeted him from the door, in a tone laced with both hope and nervousness at the same time. “Gatekeeper…?”
Upon hearing the soft voice, The Keymaster felt a chord struck within him. After all this time, could it really be? No, certainly not. How could it? Yet, that faint sliver of hope was enough to make him turn around towards the door. “Solaris…?” He called back in reply, filled with that very same mixture of hope and nervousness that he heard in the voice.
The door opened the rest of the way, and a large feminine figure emerged from it. Her eyes, normally accentuated with sharp pupils, focused on The Keymaster before suddenly dilating, her expression lighting up. “It’s you… I think?” she tilted her head, observing him more closely. It seemed like she was trying to avoid embarrassing herself. She gazed into his eyes, and saw the eyes of Gatekeeper gazing back at her.
“Yes…it is really me…” He softly replied, slowly approaching her and taking her hands. “And…it is truly you?”
Solaris’ expression suddenly sharpened, and within seconds, The Keymaster found himself harshly pinned against the wall behind him, which cracked from the force of the impact. Her claw rested against his neck, threatening to tear across his flesh. “All those years, you left me! Where were you…when I needed you most?!” she growled, small black holes forming around her from the sheer rage she exuded.
In any other situation, The Keymaster could and would have immediately defended himself. But against Solaris…he simply couldn’t bring himself to. All he could do was bow his head and let his arms hang at his sides. “I am sorry that I abandoned you…that I never reached you again after all this time. I was lost…I was cowardly…I was weak…”
Solaris paused, loosening her grip around his throat, “And so was I… But that’s…” she hissed and slammed him against the wall again, her rage burning up to cover her guilt. “It doesn’t matter- YOU ARE A COWARD! You… Y-You- We could’ve… We could’ve kept what we had…” She let go of him, backing away, her tone shifting from anger to sorrow. “What we had was perfect…”
The Keymaster arose back to his feet, approaching Solaris. “Shhh…” He raised a finger to her lips, shushing her. “We both know it is far too late for regrets…centuries late. But we are together again, and that is all that matters. We may not be able to regain the time we have lost, but time is of no concern to beings like us.”
“I… Hate you..” She simply spoke, refusing to meet his gaze, though she clearly softened and took to his touch well, not meaning what she said. “I hate you, and you ruined everything…”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug, not caring that she might shred him apart for doing so. He only wanted her comfort, and to comfort her – both of them having lacked it for all this time. “It is not too late for us to continue where we left off. This world may have changed drastically…but that does not mean our love for each other has.”
She broke into a sob, clutching him tightly, holding on like her life depended on it. “I-I’m sorry… I’m sorry f-for not being there, either- I should’ve- You could’ve… You could’ve been fine if only I was with you…” seeing her so broken made his heart ache, the strong woman he knew reduced to a desperate, crying mess in his arms.
The Keymaster could feel tears welling within his own eyes, his voice cracking slightly. “But you are with me now…everything will be alright…” He held her close, petting her starlit hair to comfort her.
She let out a deep exhale, letting her weight rest against him. She said nothing more. Part of her really did want to shred him apart, rip him open and truly express her feelings, but she loved him so much that she just couldn’t. She loved him so much that it hurt. Speaking of…
“I-I… Have something to tell you.” she sniffed, letting go of his embrace hesitantly as she faced him.
He gazed into her eyes, confused as to what it could possibly be. “What is it, my love?” He questioned.
“Ah… E-Ever since that day you left, I’ve been trying to tell you, but…”
Just then, he would sense another presence in the room. As Solaris shifted to the side, new individuals were revealed — two girls with features similar to Solaris and oddly…The Keymaster?
“Hey, dad…”
Info
By Mctoran
Critique/Revisions:
Prologue: s n o w y, WhoYouCallinAPinhead does not match any existing user name
Chapter 1: s n o w y,
SmolSlasherSoul,
scutoid studios
Chapter 3: centurys lute,
s n o w y
Chapter 6: Nikuchan
Chapter 8: SmolSlasherSoul,
scutoid studios,
Nikuchan
Epilogue: Soleste
Special thanks to all my friends and fans.
In loving memory of Teddy, my best friend and pet dog, who passed away during the writing of this.
