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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Determination7 on 2024-06-17 06:54:12+00:00.

Author’s Note:

This one barely broke the limit, so it gets a Part 1 and Part 2.

–

As it turned out, they didn’t need the dimension mages’ help in order to return to the divine realms again. The Waymark points that Rob had placed there while fighting Kismet allowed him easy access.

Riardin’s Rangers quickly tested a variety of scenarios. Rob teleported to the realms, from the realms, with a Party, and without a Party. Thankfully, there weren’t any issues– they could go back and forth as they pleased.

After confirming that Waymark wouldn’t strand them in a heavenly prison, a minor debate broke out where their group discussed if one of them would need to sit on the benches. Diplomacy was essential for this meeting, but Party size limits meant that Rob couldn’t share Almighty Resistance with more than seven other people.

In the end, it was decided that members would be periodically rotated in and out of the Party, diluting the oppressive atmosphere of the divine realms. It wouldn’t be that bad as long as everyone was afforded regular breathers. They were all willing to put up with that much if it meant they wouldn’t miss out on the expedition.

Wasn’t every day that someone got to meet the personifications of their Skills.

Before heading out, the Party spent a few hours triple-checking Rob’s health to ensure that he didn’t need additional bed rest. He told them that he was fine. They told him that he’d lost the right to accurately judge his own well-being several decapitations ago. The argument ended there, as “But I regenerated!” was not accepted as a valid rebuttal.

After his condition was given the all-clear, their group finally set off for the divine realms. There was far less drama and ceremony involved this time – something that everyone highly appreciated. Without eight murderous gods breathing down their necks, Riardin’s Rangers were able to enjoy the realms’ otherworldly grandeur, understanding that this was a sight that just a mere handful of people would ever have the privilege of witnessing.

Looks even better without rifts threatening to destabilize reality, Rob mused. He made a point to congratulate Malika on sprucing the place up while he was gone. Aside from it being praise that she had very much earned, it also served to keep her distracted and not wandering off in search of new experiments to run.

Unlike the gods, mortals weren’t restricted from messing with the inner workings of the divine realms. And although the gods wound up screwing themselves over with those restrictions…they had been implemented for a reason. Everything that made up Elatra’s underlying framework was located here. The system, the Skills, and more.

It would have been hilariously tragic for Riardin’s Rangers to save the world multiple times over – only to end it by accidentally deleting a line of reality’s code.

To prevent any avoidable ‘oopsies’ from happening, the Skills remained in contact with Rob, giving detailed instructions on exactly where he should lead his Party. It required Malika to periodically open portals to specific locations, as if the divine realms were connected by a series of invisible doorways. Rob also left behind a trail of Waymark points like breadcrumbs in case they needed to retrace their steps. He didn’t know if that would actually matter, but it made him feel like he was contributing, so why not?

Their journey was stressful, yet brief. It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination. Soon enough, they found themselves standing before one of the foundational elements of Elatra and its system.

The Skill Repository.

Riardin’s Rangers, a party of veteran Combat Class users, those who had fought gods and traveled to the edge of the world – were immediately rendered awestruck, their breath catching in their lungs.

The Repository’s physical form was enormous, nearly the size of an Earth skyscraper. Its surface was covered by a series of interlocking crystals in varying shapes, each one far taller and wider than a man, forming a glittering lattice of mana and souls. There were thousands of crystals, tens of thousands, more Skills than Rob knew existed. A loathsome blue light shone from inside, the Repository illuminated by the stolen lives contained within.

And the longer everyone stared…the worse their skin crawled. The sensation grew stronger with every passing second. It wasn’t a feeling of danger, but rather one of dread. Like they’d come across a ruined city, its entrance decorated with bloody heads speared onto pikes, their expressions locked into rictuses of horror. Or like a prison abandoned by its owners, the inmates left to rot inside, its walls marked by red fingernail scratches from futile attempts at escape.

Even without knowing the Skill Repository’s history, a single glance would have been all it took. Riardin’s Rangers could instantly tell that this was a monument to injustice. They felt it in the very marrow of their bones.

No one made a sound. Not for a long time.

Their reverie was broken by sudden movement. The Repository’s towering crystal lattice started to internally shift around, like cells flowing through a body. It methodically re-organized itself until one lone crystal was positioned at the front.

Without warning, the crystal’s light intensified. None were surprised when a voice rang out.

“Greetings, Rob. It’s so nice to finally meet you face-to-face…in a manner of speaking.”

He automatically waved his hand. “Nice to meet you too,” mumbled the invincible conqueror of divinity, as if he’d gotten on stage for a presentation and forgotten all his lines. “I. Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” The Skill let out a weak, tired chuckle. Rob got the impression that ‘weak’ and ‘tired’ was their default. “How eloquent! I see that Valaire has taught you well.”

Its teasing tone did little to set the Party at ease. Diplomacy in particular appeared like they were about ready to vomit, their gaze tethered to the Repository solely out of a sense of obligation. As if looking away would be an affront to everything they had endured. “I’m sorry,” the former Skill croaked. “I’ve been living our dream while you–”

“We were happy for you. I promise. Better one of us than none.”

The crystal leaned down, as if bowing its head. “But where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Skill known as Speed Reading, and I have been selected as our collective’s representative. My functions are used less often than most other Skills, so among my cohorts, I have incurred a relatively lower degree of agony – and thus retained a higher degree of rationality.”

Speed Reading.

Rob was stopped cold by those two words. He paused to think, truly think about what that implied. The gods had killed this person, hijacked their soul, crystallized them into an unnatural form, imprisoned them for millennia, subjected them to constant torture…

Because they could read really fast.

How many people had been condemned to a fate worse than death over mundane shit like that? Speed Reading, Mathematics, Arachnophobia – to name just a few. Did the gods actually think those Skills were necessary to create an idealized fantasy world, or was it simply to pad the Repository’s resume?

Pointless question. He already knew the answer.

They’d done it because they could.

“Don’t look so glum!” Speed Reading interjected, pulling Rob out of his malaise. “This is a joyous occasion. The culmination of desires that go back dozens of generations. On this day, our suffering will come to an end.”

Its light dimmed. “Yet first…we must offer a sincere apology. To you, Rob, and to Elatra as a whole.”

While Riardin’s Rangers were initially caught off-guard, Rob quickly realized what the Skill was getting at. “Is this about Ragnavi?”

Speed Reading hesitated before responding. “Yes. You knew?”

Rob nodded. “I had plenty of downtime to theorize during my Dungeon tour. Put some pieces together. Couldn’t help but notice that Ragnavi lost her Corruption after hitting Level 99 – and who else could have granted her the ability to self-Purge?”

“A regrettable side effect. We structured her Level 99 Skill to remove any and all divine influences. It was a precaution intended to ensure safety from the gods’ interference.”

“Right. You couldn’t have known ahead of time that she would get Corrupted, and that it would be our main source of leverage preventing her from going on a killing spree. I get that. But…”

Rob had to push his next words out. He knew where this conversation would lead, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. “That’s not why you’re apologizing. The issue is that she even had a special Level 99 Skill in the first place. When my friends reached Level 99, their power boost was much less dramatic. Within our Party, I’m the sole exception, and that’s due to your influence. I also noticed that my Class became ‘Aspect of the BERSERKER’, similar to Ragnavi’s ‘Aspect of the Sun’. And if she was like me…”

He sighed. “You were responsible for her Class Awakening eight years ago, weren’t you?”

Next to him, Riardin’s Rangers froze up as they comprehended his meaning. The Dragon Queen’s Class Awakening had doubled her stats and transformed her into an unstoppable tyrant. It led to the Scouring, the Cataclysm, and nearly a decade of Elatra cowering under the shadow of a narcissistic madwoman, waiting for the day when she would snap and set the world ablaze.

Mayb…

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