Deus Necros

”We trigger the trap,” Kaiser said.

No one looked pleased with the suggestion.

The white cubes stretched ahead through the dreary landscape, scattered among dead grass, crooked trees, and shallow pools of stagnant water. They looked watchful. They looked dangerous.

The tribesmen shifted uneasily.

One of them stared at the nearest cube as if he had only just discovered it, though they had already passed dozens during the journey. His brow tightened while he searched through memories that were no longer there.

”You wish to continue?” he asked.

”We came here to find Sloth,” Ludwig replied. ”Turning around because the road is dangerous defeats the purpose.”

”You do not know what waits beyond these stones.” The tribesman said.

”Neither do you,” Kaiser said. ”That is the problem.”

The tribesman’s expression darkened. ”We know the way.”

”No,” Kaiser replied. ”Your body knows something resembling the way. Your mind has been prevented from understanding it.”

”They returned from the White One before,” Tull said. He looked toward the maze of cubes ahead, his face tightening as if even focusing on them required effort. ”Maybe their instincts really can guide us through.”

”Or guide us directly into whatever Sloth prepared,” Celine said.

Redd looked between the cubes and the tribesmen. ”I’m leaning toward the prepared trap.”

Thomas hovered close to Ludwig’s shoulder. ”And we’re still planning to walk into it?”

”We do not possess enough reliable information to avoid it,” Cain said. ”The path behind us is long. The path ahead leads toward our target. There is little value in pretending another road is safer when we cannot confirm whether another road exists.”

”That somehow made this worse,” Tull muttered.

Kaiser folded his hands behind his back. ”You are all worrying too much.”

Celine looked at him. ”You just explained that these structures erase memories.”

”Yes.”

”And that our guides may unknowingly be leading us into a trap.”

”Yes.”

”And now you think we’re worrying too much.”

”Yes.”

Redd scratched the side of his face. ”You’re terrible at reassurance.”

Kaiser looked toward Ludwig.

”If shit hits the fan, he can handle it.”

Ludwig caught the meaning beneath the words.

Kaiser was not saying Ludwig could defeat whatever waited beyond the cubes. That would have been an unusually optimistic assessment from someone who understood Sloth’s Authority better than anyone else present.

He was reminding Ludwig that failure did not have to remain final.

Ludwig reached inward.

Beyond the Living Vessel, beyond the powers carved from fallen Usurpers, beyond the pulse of Wrath and the cold certainty of Pride, he found the gift connected to the Necros.

A point to which death could return him.

A place from which the future could be attempted again.

[Set Death Point]

The world did not visibly change.

No light descended. No mark appeared on the ground. The others felt nothing beyond a brief stillness in Ludwig’s posture as he mentally fixed the location in place.

The edge of the cube field.

The boundary between what they knew and what the structures wanted forgotten.

Ludwig gave it a name.

[Memory Frontier]

The point settled.

If the trap ahead killed them, Ludwig could return here. He could change the route, warn the others, prepare differently, or abandon the pursuit if what waited proved impossible.

Ludwig opened his eyes.

”Fine,” he said.

Kaiser said. ”Now move.”

The tribesmen went first.

Their hesitation vanished the moment they faced the path ahead. Not because they had found courage, but because something deeper than conscious thought seemed to take control. Their feet carried them toward a narrow gap between two stacks of white cubes, following a route none of them could describe.

The group followed.

At first, the effect was subtle.

One of the tribesmen stopped looking at the structures.

That was the first thing Kaiser noticed.

The man’s eyes remained open, but they no longer moved across the terrain. He watched nothing. Examined nothing. His gaze simply rested ahead while his feet selected turns through instinct.

Kaiser pulled out a small notebook.

Tull looked at him. ”You carry paper?”

”I carry many things.”

”Why?”

”Because I enjoy knowing more than everyone around me.”

Kaiser began writing.

The tribesmen turned left between two cubes, crossed a shallow line of black water, then passed beneath an arch created by several blocks balanced against one another. None of them discussed the route. None paused to check landmarks.

Their expressions had always been restrained, shaped by years of surviving a land where panic attracted death.

Now that restraint became emptiness.

Their faces dulled.

Their shoulders relaxed.

Their eyes lost focus.

They continued walking, but awareness had begun leaving them.

”Interesting,” Kaiser murmured.

”What?” Ludwig asked.

”They are not losing motor function.”

Kaiser watched the nearest tribesman carefully.

”Their conscious awareness is being suppressed, but the task remains. Lead us toward the White One. That instruction has lodged somewhere beneath ordinary memory, deep enough that the cubes cannot erase it without erasing the body’s ability to function.”

”So they’re sleepwalking?” Redd asked.

”Not exactly. Sleepwalkers possess more independent thought.”

Kaiser wrote another note.

They moved deeper.

The white cubes grew more numerous around them. Some were small enough to step over, while others rose higher than buildings. Their arrangements made no architectural sense. A tower would rise from the earth at an angle and remain standing without support. Several cubes hovered a finger’s width above the ground, though no magic could be felt holding them there. Others had sunk halfway into trees without damaging the wood.

Kaiser’s curiosity eventually overcame what little restraint he possessed.

He approached one of the smaller cubes.

Celine noticed. ”What are you doing?”

”Collecting a sample.”

”That is rarely good when you say it.”

Kaiser placed his red finger against the cube’s surface.

Nothing happened to him.

The white structure remained smooth and cold beneath his touch, continuing its attempt to invade a mind that no longer functioned like that of the living.

Kaiser smiled.

A dark opening formed beside his staff, leading into the storage space concealed within it. The mouth of the spatial compartment widened until it could accept the cube.

The structure disappeared inside.

Tull stared at him. ”You just stole part of the trap.”

”It’s not stealing if it’s on the ground,” Kaiser smiled.

Ludwig glanced at the space where the cube had stood. The surrounding structures did not react. No alarm sounded. No creature emerged to defend it.

Kaiser wrote another note.

”Individual structures can be displaced without immediately disrupting the broader field,” he said. ”Useful.”

The farther they went, the more strained Tull became.

His aura still covered his body, protecting him from the unpleasant environment and the lingering cold, but it did nothing against the pressure entering his mind. His jaw tightened as if he were trying to hold onto a difficult thought. Twice, he looked back toward Ludwig with questions already half-forgotten.

Eventually he approached Kaiser.

”What exactly is happening to them?” Tull asked.

His voice sounded slower than before.

Kaiser glanced at him. ”You are beginning to experience it yourself.”

Tull frowned. ”I feel fine.”

”No, you do not.”

”I’d know if I wasn’t fine.”

”That confidence is one of the first things deteriorating.”

Tull’s expression tightened further.

Kaiser pointed toward the tribesmen.

”The cubes are dulling conscious perception. Those men are no longer properly awake. They are following subconscious instinct and the final task they were given before awareness faded.”

”Lead us to Sloth,” Tull said.

”Yes.”

”So they’re unconscious?”

”Mostly.”

”But walking.”

”The body can perform remarkable tasks without consulting the person inside it.”

Tull stared at the back of the nearest tribesman.

His eyes slowly lost focus.

He opened his mouth as if to ask something else.

Then stopped.

The strain vanished from his face.

Not because he had resisted.

Because the part of him experiencing strain had gone quiet.

Tull continued walking.

His steps remained steady. His aura stayed wrapped around him, though its flow became mechanical, sustained by habit rather than deliberate control. His eyes rested ahead without recognition.

Redd moved beside him and waved a hand in front of his face.

”Tull?”

No response.

Redd grabbed his shoulder and shook him lightly. ”Hey.”

Tull kept walking.

He adjusted automatically around Redd’s grip, following the tribesmen through the white structures as if nothing had interfered.

Redd looked toward Kaiser. ”You said we didn’t need to worry.”

”You do not.”

”He is unconscious.”

”Yes.”

”And walking into a trap.”

”As are we.”

Redd stared at him. ”How is that safe?”

Kaiser opened his notebook again.

”You don’t need to worry about it,” he said. ”You’re next.”

Redd’s ears lowered. ”The hell does that mea…”

His voice died midway through the sentence.

The anger left his face.

His expression flattened.

The tension in his shoulders vanished, and his hand slipped away from Tull. He turned forward and continued walking beside him with the same empty precision.

Kaiser immediately began writing.

”Humans succumb first,” he said. ”Then supernatural humans with heavily altered bodies.”

Ludwig looked at Redd.

The half beast movements remained smooth. His senses still functioned enough for him to avoid roots and obstacles, but there was no awareness behind them.

Near his side moved the spirit of his sister.

Her spectral wolf-beast form had always possessed a distinct outline, part animal and part ghost, tethered to Redd by soul rather than blood alone.

Kaiser watched her carefully.

”And his soul companion appears affected as well.”

Ludwig glanced at the spirit. ”She looks fine.”

The moment he said it, her outline trembled.

The shape of the wolf blurred.

Her legs lost definition first, fading into trails of pale spiritual energy. Then her head and body softened, the recognizable beast form collapsing inward until nothing remained except an amorphous blob of ghostly light drifting beside Redd.

It continued following him.

But whatever consciousness gave it shape had gone dormant.

Kaiser wrote faster.

”Correction. Soul-bound spiritual entities possess slightly greater resistance than the altered mortal anchoring them, but succumb immediately afterward.”

Celine looked around at those still standing.

”So only undead and vampires can resist.”

”I’m still awake,” Thomas said.

Kaiser looked at the little fire spirit perched near Ludwig’s shoulder.

”No, you’re not, firefly.”

”It’s fire spir…”

Thomas’s eyes dimmed.

His words stopped.

His small body folded into a simple ember-like shape and settled against Ludwig’s shoulder, wings losing definition as awareness faded. The spirit remained warm, but the personality inside had gone quiet.

Kaiser made another note.

”Independent spirits last longer than supernatural mortals and soul companions, but not by much.”

Ludwig lifted Thomas gently from his shoulder and placed the dim ember inside a secure fold of his cloak.

Celine looked toward the cubes surrounding them. ”We should turn back.”

Her voice carried controlled frustration.

”We do not know what prolonged exposure will do. Losing consciousness might only be the first stage.”

Cain glanced at Tull and Redd as they continued behind the tribesmen.

”We can still move.”

Celine looked at her uncle. ”That is your answer?”

”All we need is to keep them safe.”

”They’re defenseless.”

”They are surrounded by us.”

”Which would matter more if we knew what was ahead.”

Cain looked toward the path.

”I sense no enemies.”

Ludwig frowned at the blankly walking tribesmen. ”This trap is working disturbingly well.”

”Of course it is,” Cain replied. ”We are in enemy territory. This is a defensive mechanism designed for beings who wander too far.”

”Defensive?” Celine asked. ”It strips awareness.”

”It does not kill.”

”Yet,” Ludwig said.

Cain’s expression did not shift.

”The conscious mind falls silent. The body retains direction. Those affected can be protected until the field ends.”

”You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

”I am making observations.”

”And if something attacks?”

”Nothing is ahead.”

Ludwig slowly turned toward him.

Cain’s eyes narrowed slightly. ”What?”

”Saying things like that is how something cursed shows up.”

Silence followed, and even Kaiser looked away from his notes. For half a second, nothing happened. Then a deep crack echoed from somewhere in the distance.

One of the large cube towers ahead shifted as its uppermost block tilted sideways. Another moved beneath it, throwing the entire structure off balance, and the towering stack began to collapse. White cubes struck one another with thunderous impacts, each collision sending tremors through the ground. Several crashed into the dead-living trees and flattened them without slowing, while others struck the earth hard enough to throw dirt, pale grass, and stagnant water into the air.

The tribesmen showed no reaction to the destruction. Neither did Tull. Redd continued walking as though nothing had happened, accompanied by the shapeless spirit of his sister drifting beside him. Ludwig stopped them before they could wander any closer to the falling structures.

Cain turned toward the sound while Celine drew her weapon. Kaiser merely closed his notebook with the same calm he had shown since entering the Memory Frontier.

The ground shook again, but the cubes were no longer responsible. These tremors came from footsteps, large, slow, and impossibly heavy.

Something moved beyond the collapsing tower. Each step struck the earth with enough force to disturb the pools around them, sending rings across the stagnant water. Loose white cubes trembled in place, and the few twisted trees still standing leaned beneath the pressure.

As the footsteps drew closer, Ludwig pulled Durandal free. ”I told you.”

Cain watched pale dust rise through the cube field. ”You did.”

”What was that about there being no enemies ahead?”

”There were none when I said it.”

”That is a terrible defense.”

Kaiser stepped beside Ludwig and raised one red finger as the storage space inside his staff sealed itself around the stolen cube. ”I suppose we are about to learn what protects these lands.”

The pale dust shifted, and an enormous silhouette emerged behind it. The creature was far too tall to be human and too broad to move easily between the cubes. Its head rose above the remaining white structures, while something dragged behind it with a sound like stone scraping across bone.

The unconscious tribesmen continued trying to walk toward it. Celine caught Tull before he could advance any farther, while Cain seized Redd by the back of his armor and dragged him to a stop. Ludwig kept Thomas protected beneath his cloak as he settled Durandal into both hands.

The trap had been triggered, and now something had come to close it.