Darkness frayed at the edges, pierced by a persistent, rhythmic shaking. Zeroth was jarred violently back to consciousness, the sensation jarring through his very bones. Someone was shaking him. Hard.
"Zeroth! Wake up! Are you alright?!" Tingle's high-pitched voice, laced with panic, echoed somewhere close.
Instinct, raw and primal, surged before thought. A wave of heat exploded outward as Zeroth bolted upright, his body instinctively flaring into its towering godform. Flames roared to life across his arms and shoulders, his beard igniting in a sudden burst of crimson fire as his eyes snapped open, blazing with molten intensity.
"Gah!" Tingle let out a panicked yelp, scrambling backward on his hands and knees, eyes wide with terror and awe as he stared up at the suddenly massive, fiery dwarf.
The immediate threat registered, pulling Zeroth back from the brink of battle-readiness. He blinked, the molten glow in his eyes softening slightly as he focused on the small gnome cowering a few feet away. "Tingle?" he rumbled, his voice deeper, echoing slightly in the unfamiliar space. He quickly reigned in the flames, the intense heat receding as his form remained large but less threateningly ablaze. "Are you… are you okay? Sorry about that."
Tingle cautiously pushed himself up, brushing dust off his magically enhanced gear. "Tingle is… startled! Yes, startled! Tingle thought you were hurt badly!" He eyed Zeroth's towering form with a mixture of relief and lingering apprehension.
Zeroth took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of ozone and burnt stone filling his nostrils. He looked down at his own massive, lava-streaked hands, then slowly scanned their surroundings. His brow furrowed. The chaotic, open battlefield was gone. They were… elsewhere. He stood in a vast, empty room constructed entirely of precisely cut, grey stone bricks. The ceiling soared high above, lost in shadow, and the walls stretched wide, seamless and unbroken. There were no doors, no windows, no discernible exits or entrances. Just cold, silent stone pressing in from all sides. The air was still and cool, a stark contrast to the fiery energy radiating from his own form.
His gaze swept the room, quickly locating the others. Varic sat slumped against the far wall, his usual sharp alertness dulled by exhaustion, his head resting back against the cold stone. He was watching Ardric, who lay beside him on the floor. Not moving. Further away, Pyronox paced near one of the walls, his molten body casting flickering orange light across the bricks. He ran a clawed hand over the surface, seemingly inspecting the stonework with intense, quiet focus.
But Zeroth's attention snapped back to his brother. Ardric. Still down.
A knot of cold dread tightened in Zeroth's chest, instantly overriding any lingering disorientation. He strode across the room, his heavy, molten steps echoing unnervingly in the silence, kneeling beside his fallen companion. Varic looked up as he approached, his expression grim.
"He hasn't stirred," Varic murmured, his voice low and strained.
Zeroth's heart clenched as he looked down at Ardric. His brother's face was pale beneath the grime and sweat, his breathing shallow. His formidable armor was scorched black in multiple places, dented and battered. Ugly, deep gashes crisscrossed his arms and torso, some still oozing sluggishly. More alarmingly fractal patterns like frozen lightning were burned across his exposed skin and even seemed etched onto the metal of his breastplate, remnants of Kael's potent storm magic. Dismay washed over Zeroth, cold and sharp. Ardric had taken the brunt of Kael's assault head-on, shielding others, fighting fiercely, but the cost had clearly been immense. He reached out a massive, fiery hand, hesitating just above Ardric's chest, feeling the faint, weak pulse of life beneath the battered armor. He could pour fire into him, but that wouldn't heal these wounds.
He looked around the featureless room again, frustration simmering beneath his worry. "Where are they?" he growled, the sound scraping like stone. "Where are the gods? Vulcanix? Luminara? Anyone?! They drop us in this box after a battle like that and just… leave him like this?"
Varic shook his head slowly. "Haven't felt a thing since we arrived here. It's like… we're cut off."
Zeroth clenched his jaw, the flames around him flaring slightly with his rising anger. He couldn't help Ardric directly, not with this power. His brother needed divine light, or at least time to mend himself. He trusted Varic to keep watch. For now, he needed answers. He needed to know what twisted game they were playing now. Standing slowly, Zeroth turned away from his brother, forcing down the urge to roar his frustration at the silent stone walls. He walked towards the far side of the room where Pyronox continued his methodical inspection, seemingly oblivious to the tension.
"Pyronox," Zeroth called out, his voice tight. The fiery being paused, turning his molten gaze towards Zeroth. "We need to contact Vulcanix. Now. Can you reach him from here?"
Pyronox turned his molten gaze towards Zeroth, the fiery light within dimming slightly, reflecting a frustration that mirrored Zeroth's own. "I have been trying," Pyronox stated, his voice a low rumble of static and heat. "Since we arrived. There is… nothing. No connection. It is as if Father is deliberately blocking me, or this place dampens the link."
Zeroth's fists clenched at his sides, embers flaring brightly around his knuckles. Annoyance surged through him, hot and sharp, extinguishing the fragile flicker of sympathy he'd felt earlier. And to think I actually felt bad for him, he thought bitterly. Manipulative bastard, even when he's supposedly cut off. He forced himself to take a deep breath, the superheated air doing little to cool his temper. Shouting at the silent walls wouldn't help Ardric.
They settled into an uneasy vigil. Hours crawled by in the stark, silent chamber. Varic remained near Ardric, occasionally checking his pulse, his usual sharp wit dulled by exhaustion and worry. Tingle, after pacing restlessly for the first hour, eventually sat cross-legged near the center of the room, fiddling intently with one of his boots, muttering calculations under his breath. Pyronox resumed his silent pacing along the walls, his molten form casting long, dancing shadows. Zeroth leaned against the cool stone, forcing himself to conserve energy, though every instinct screamed for action, for answers. Just as the oppressive silence began to feel permanent, a low groan broke the stillness. Zeroth's head snapped up. Ardric stirred, his eyelids fluttering weakly. Varic immediately leaned closer, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Ardric? Can you hear me?" Varic asked, his voice soft.
Ardric groaned again, his eyes cracking open. He blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused as he took in the stone ceiling above. He tried to sit up, wincing sharply as pain shot through him. "Kael… hits like a storm giant…" he rasped, his voice thin and rough.
"Easy, brother," Zeroth said, moving closer but keeping his distance so as not to overwhelm Ardric with his residual heat. "You took a beating."
To everyone's surprise, Ardric managed a weak grin. "Aye… but I'm still breathing."
He closed his eyes again, concentrating. A faint, golden light began to emanate from his chest, slowly spreading outwards. The intricate burn patterns on his skin pulsed softly, then began to recede. The shallower gashes knitted themselves closed, leaving behind only faint scars. He drew a deeper breath, the golden light flaring brighter, washing over his battered armor, mending cracks and smoothing dents. Within minutes, though still visibly tired, Ardric pushed himself into a sitting position, the worst of his injuries miraculously healed.
"Well, I'll be…" Zeroth muttered, genuinely impressed. "Luminara's not holding back with you, is she?"
Ardric chuckled tiredly. "Seems not. Still… could use another few hours sleep."
But rest was not on the agenda. Another couple of hours dragged by. Varic had begun pacing agitatedly, mirroring Pyronox, while Tingle had resorted to tapping rhythms against the stone floor with his tools, his impatience palpable. Suddenly, a low crackling sound filled the chamber, drawing everyone's attention. One of the smooth, grey stone walls began to vibrate, sparks of vivid purple magic dancing across its surface like frantic insects. The energy intensified, carving glowing lines into the stone, forming intricate symbols and then, letters. Zeroth squinted, stepping closer alongside the others as the carving completed, leaving behind glowing purple script etched deep into the wall. Before they could decipher the message, Delores's voice echoed around them, sultry, amused, and undeniably powerful.
"Ah, champions! Still breathing, I see? Excellent! Tingle was getting frightfully bored, and we can't have that, can we?"
Tingle puffed up indignantly but wisely remained silent.
"Now," Delores continued, her tone shifting to one of theatrical excitement, "I am just thrilled to announce the next stage! Forget navigating collapsing tunnels or sieging dreary fortresses. We're moving on to something far more… traditional! Pure, delightful trial by combat! God powers versus god powers, champion versus champion! Glorious, isn't it?"
Zeroth exchanged a wary glance with Varic. He didn't like the sound of this.
"However," Delores purred, a hint of calculation entering her voice, "we have a slight imbalance in team size! Little Ralgar's nasty alliance stands depleted at three. Zeroth, your fiery band, including our tenacious mortal friend Tingle and the shadowy warlock Varic, numbers five potential combatants!"
She paused, letting the disparity hang in the air before chuckling lightly. "Normally, one might adjust for fairness, but where's the fun in that? Especially when our little kobold champion, Ralgar, specifically stated he is utterly unconcerned with numbers! In fact," her voice dripped with mock admiration, "he practically demanded an unfair fight! Such bravado! Such… predictable arrogance!"
Zeroth frowned, glancing at Ardric, who looked equally skeptical. Ralgar wanting an unfair fight against them? It sounded more like a trap or supreme overconfidence born of Morvash's corruption.
"So," Delores declared, her voice taking on a decisive edge, "by Ralgar's own supposed wish, it shall be a glorious free-for-all! A five-versus-three melee to determine the winner of this stage! Zeroth's alliance against Ralgar's remnants! Simple, brutal, and oh-so entertaining!"
The purple glow on the wall faded, leaving the carved message as the only evidence of her decree. Delores's echoing laughter trailed off, leaving the champions alone once more in the silent stone chamber. Before the weight of Delores's pronouncement could fully settle, or any strategic discussion could begin, the stone wall opposite them flared violently. A brilliant golden light erupted, so intense it forced everyone to shield their eyes. The light coalesced, etching the outline of a massive doorway into the seamless grey brick. When the blinding radiance subsided, a tall, imposing archway stood where solid stone had been moments before, its frame humming softly with latent energy.
Zeroth stared, his fiery brows furrowed. He exchanged a cautious glance with Ardric, then hesitantly approached the newly formed entrance. The air around it felt warm, stable, unlike the capricious purple energy Delores wielded. He reached out a massive, molten hand and gave the entryway a tentative push. It swung inward silently, revealing not an immediate battlefield, but a short, seemingly plain stone corridor beyond. Not locked. Not trapped. At least, not obviously.
He turned back to his companions, his expression grim but resolute. "Alright. Looks like our exit stage left. Assume we're walking straight into a fight the moment we step out the other side. Everyone ready?"
A series of determined nods answered him.
Zeroth's gaze fell on Tingle, who was already hovering a few inches off the ground, arcane energy crackling faintly around his boots and gloves. "Tingle," Zeroth said, his voice serious, dropping the usual teasing tone. "You heard Delores. Ralgar wanted this uneven fight. That likely means he thinks he has an edge, or he's just plain suicidal. Either way, he knows who crippled the Three Heads, and he definitely knows you were there when we took them down for good. He'll have one hell of a grudge against you specifically. Keep back, let us handle the initial clash."
Tingle's usual grin was absent, replaced by a determined frown. He nodded curtly. "Tingle understands. Tingle will provide… enthusiastic explosive support from a distance."
Varic stepped up beside Zeroth, shadows already beginning to coalesce around his feet. "Pyronox and I will watch over him. We'll provide magical cover."
Pyronox gave a silent nod, his molten form flickering slightly brighter in agreement.
"Leaves the frontline to us, then," Ardric stated, drawing his longsword. He rested the pommel against the floor, his stance firm.
"Right," Zeroth confirmed. He scanned the faces of his alliance one last time. "Power up. All of you. Let's hit whatever's out there with everything we've got from the first step."
The chamber filled with a sudden surge of overlapping energies. Varic's intricate green tattoos emerged across his skin, swirling like living ink as deep shadows pooled and writhed around his boots. Ardric exploded in a radiant golden aura, Luminara's divine light bathing the room, his eyes glowing like captured stars as his longsword began to shimmer, humming with celestial power. With an audible crack, Tingle activated his Mana Binders and boots fully. His hair spiked wildly, and shimmering, crystalline armor of pure yellow-gold magic snapped into existence around him, arcing with contained lightning as it lifted the gnome a clear two feet off the ground.
Zeroth was already in his godform, but he let the reins slip further, allowing Vulcanix's raw power to surge more freely. The flames engulfing him roared higher, hotter, intensifying to an almost painful brilliance. As he did, he felt an echo beside him, Pyronox flared simultaneously, his own fiery form pulsing in sync with Zeroth's, an unintentional harmony of inherited power.
With a final, shared nod of grim understanding, Zeroth turned towards the open doorway. "Let's go give 'em hell."
He led the way, his massive frame filling the archway as he stepped into the short, plain corridor. It was unremarkable, just smooth stone leading towards a bright opening ahead. Behind him, the combined energies of his companions radiated, a potent force ready to be unleashed. As they reached the end of the corridor and stepped out, the floating stone in Zeroth's waistband vibrated intensely, Grimbli reacting to his creation. They emerged into the staggering vastness of the Coliseum of Fates. The sheer scale was breathtaking, dwarfing even Zeroth's godform. Pillars soared into an artificially bright sky, stands climbed endlessly into the distance, and the blood-stained sands of the arena floor stretched wide before them. Their eyes took a moment to adjust to the brilliant, false sunlight that flooded the immense space, casting long, sharp shadows across the arena floor. They were exposed, center stage, ready for the final act.
Thousands upon thousands of voices screamed, cheered, and bellowed, echoing off the impossibly high walls. His eyes widened, adjusting not just to the blinding false sunlight but to the sheer spectacle unfolding in the colossal stands that circled the arena. Scattered throughout, in clusters large and small, were deities. Hundreds of them. Beings of every conceivable size, shape, form, and color imaginable. Gods of light and shadow, beasts and mortals, stars and stone, war and peace. It was a pantheon stretching beyond comprehension, all gathered to witness the unfolding drama. The sheer concentration of divine power was overwhelming, a palpable pressure that made the air hum and Zeroth's skin prickle with anxiety, despite the god-power coursing through his own veins.
His gaze swept the stands, searching, until he found them. High up, near a prominent archway, Vulcanix stood, his massive molten form a beacon of barely restrained fury amidst the throng. Even from this distance, Zeroth could feel the god's burning intensity. A few seats away sat Luminara, Thorund, and Eldrinacht, their more composed forms radiating quieter, yet no less potent, energy. Thalamar stood near them, his expression unreadable. Surprisingly, Zeroth spotted Mira and Aunrae's groups seated nearby as well, their own deities beside them. He caught Kael's eye, who offered a grim nod of support. Even Aunrae gave a small, almost imperceptible incline of her head. Most surprising were the deities themselves; Luminara's light seemed to pulse encouragingly, Thorund raised a fist in a warrior's salute, and even Eldrinacht's swirling shadowy form seemed to ripple with something akin to anticipation. They were yelling, adding their divine voices to the mortal cacophony, cheering for Zeroth's alliance. All except Vulcanix. He just stood there, arms crossed, radiating silent menace.
Zeroth grunted, turning his attention back to the arena floor. As they walked further out onto the blood-stained sand, Delores's voice suddenly boomed, seeming to originate from directly above them, yet echoing throughout the entire coliseum.
"Champions! Welcome to the grand stage!"
Zeroth instinctively looked up. Floating about fifty feet above the arena floor, directly over the center, was Delores, her small form and flowing red hair almost comical against the vastness, yet her presence was undeniable. But she wasn't alone. Positioned slightly behind and below her, standing defiantly atop a large, jagged pile of rubble that was likely the remnants of some past battle or perhaps Ralgar's own dramatic entrance, were their opponents.
Ralgar stood at the forefront, his mutated kobold form radiating waves of corrupt crimson and black energy. His eyes burned with raw hatred as he glared down at Zeroth's group. Flanking him were his two remaining champions. One was a hulking brute shrouded in dark, heavy armor that seemed fused to its flesh, clutching a wickedly barbed greataxe that pulsed with necrotic energy. The other was slender and cloaked, shadows clinging to its form, its face hidden within the depths of its hood, though Zeroth could sense the sharp, dangerous magic simmering beneath the surface. They looked down on Zeroth's alliance, radiating malice and overconfidence.
Delores floated slightly forward, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as her voice filled the coliseum once more. "Representing the might of Vulcanix, the light of Luminara, the shadows of Eldrinacht, the ingenuity of Mortalkind, and… well, whatever Pyronox decides he represents today," she paused for a ripple of amused divine laughter from the stands, "we have the alliance led by Zeroth Velkyrr!"
She then gestured dramatically towards the rubble pile. "And facing them, embodying the delightful chaos and forbidden secrets of Morvash, we have the tenacious remnants led by Ralgar!"
Her tone shifted, becoming slightly sharper as she seemed to look pointedly down at the kobold. "Now, for the rules! Technically… there are none! Fight as you will, use whatever power you possess, alliances may crumble, champions may fall! Your only constraint," her voice hardened, echoing with Aeonis's authority, "is that you shall not attack the onlookers. Is that understood, little lizard?"
A low growl answered her from Ralgar's position, but no direct challenge was made.
Delores clapped her hands together, the sound sharp and final. "Excellent! Champions of Zeroth's alliance! Champions of Ralgar's alliance! Prepare yourselves!" Her voice swelled, filled with anticipation. "In thirty seconds… let the final trial of this stage commence!"
A tense silence fell over the arena, broken only by the distant, eager roar of the divine audience. Zeroth took a deep breath, flexing his molten fingers, his gaze locked onto the figures perched atop the rubble. Thirty seconds. It felt like both an eternity and no time at all.