LIMINALITY
Table of Contents
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 56 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 ENDChapter 55
Marcus Aurelius sat in his throne room, tapping his fingers across the chair armrests, waiting for someone to be sent back for a report. When he learned of his daughter's disappearance, he became deeply concerned for his adopted child, but not to the extreme degree that he would abandon his people.
He hadn't forgotten his own role after losing a good friend, Kuranes, who was also the previous God Emperor of their people, while protecting them from the prying eyes of Nyarlathotep as well as being considered to be the greatest dreamer across all the lands until his accession through MEMET.
With a stoic face, he can feel every anxiety that haunted him through these troubling times, consuming him whole. Even the reassuring words of his own wife did little to ease his thoughts, as he knew that every moment his people and family were put in danger, especially for the sake of his own daughter, who is either dead or miraculously alive.
Briefly closing his eyes, he let out a deep breath and waited in silence as the calmness soothed him despite having a lot of problems in his hands. But he knows his main priority is to first take care of himself, which he is currently doing.
Everything else that isn't crucial is their problem, not his for the moment. Time will tell, and he will hope for the best and prepare for the worst in what is to come. As for all his influence and power through his authority, he is humble and considerate of fellow men's decisions.
Gazing around his empty, glorious throne room, the God Emperor took in the grandeur and majesty of the lavishly decorated chamber. The walls were adorned with tapestries of the finest quality, depicting the triumphs and accomplishments of Celephais and its people.
The ceiling was painted with elaborate murals, showcasing scenes from the history of the Dreamlands. And the floor was laid with intricate mosaics, depicting various motifs and symbols of the city. As for the throne itself, it had an amazing structure of shimmering red and gleaming gold.
Fitting for someone who is a ruler.
And yet, his wisdom knows no bounds for all the wonders he had witnessed and built; time is ever so precious and fleeting. He must make the most of it while he can, for there is no telling what the future may hold for him or anyone else.
No man should be overly worried of either the past or future but learn one's mistake so it will not be repeated again. Not even he is immune from his own fears and regrets for he is indeed a man; not a god and no matter how much some of his people try to elevate him higher, there are always flaws in their own views.
Calmly sighing, he lifted tired eyes and wondered the courier's eventual arrival. He waited and waited for hours, still that man hadn't arrived yet which is strange to say the least. However, his patience paid off as the echoing sound of footsteps reaching his ears; Marcus gazed toward the door of his royal chamber.
The doors of the throne room burst open, revealing the messenger standing in the doorway with a horrified look on his face. Most of all, it is the appearance that made the God Emperor raise his eyebrows in surprise and confusion from the sight alone.
It was clear that the messenger had not gone unscathed from his journey. He was covered in scratches and bruises, his clothing torn and dirty. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, staining his pale skin red. His dark curls were tangled and matted, his hazel eyes were wide with shock. His hands shook as he struggled to catch his breath, leaning against the doorway for support.
Worst of all, the messenger was known to be excellent traveler, capable of avoiding many troubles that most wouldn't dare to venture. To see him in such state is quite worrisome and unsettling, prompting the ruler of Celephais to approach him but in the back of his mind had dread of knowing the terrible news.
"What had happened?" demanded the God Emperor, a tinge of urgency in his voice, "to see you in such state...it is frightening. How did you managed to find yourself in this predicament?" He can't understand how such trusted and well known professional went through this kind of ordeal; it is beyond comprehension.
The messenger tried to open his mouth only to gasp and sputter helplessly. He lifted a shaking finger towards him, taking careful steps forward in almost crazed trance, causing the emperor to be greatly perplexed from this action alone.
Many ideas popped up in his head: either he was traumatized by what the man had to go through or he was still in shock after everything that had happened to him. Whichever the case might be, he cannot afford to waste any more time until he is able to receive the most pressing message that the messenger has brought with him.
However, before Marcus could utter another sentence, the man immediately stopped a few meters away. His frozen posture, along with having never shown to stop pointing directly at him, is becoming unnerving, to say the least, from this entire charade.
Slowly, the messenger calmly brought down his arm as his mouth opened in such a monstrous and horrific gape to the point that by this sight alone, it was something else than just being shocked. Instead, it was supernatural, or worse, possession.
Then a human arm shot out from within his throat. It flailed wildly, grasping at empty air. Then another appeared, this time the green hood of a humanoid figure breaking free from the containment of its carrier. With a wet snap, the messenger's vomited out a person that Marcus was all too familiar with to be considered an arch enemy.
Like a caterpillar shredding through its cocoon, Cthulhu slowly pulled his own body from the mess that he caused for the horrified messenger, who quickly died after finally being freed from hijacking a man's body as a disguise to infiltrate a treasured floating island.
But Marcus remained calm, sitting on his throne without showing any inch of fear or horror at what he had to witness. "It was a matter of time until you came here to kill me," he answered coldly as the emperor remained on his spot despite being rightfully angry at seeing the loss of life.
The body of the messenger fell quietly on the floor, its inhumanely deflated corpse landing on the ground with a sickening squelch, accompanied by the unpleasant smell of blood and stomach fluids emitting from it. It lay there for a moment, an empty shell of its former self, a symbol of Cthulhu's ruthlessness.
Marcus stared at what this monster had done. "Why are you doing this? What do you gain from ending innocent people's lives because of your ideals? An endless cycle of chaos and death to continue the Kalpa?" He asked the question that has plagued him for many years now.
A cruel cackle erupted from Cthulhu's inhuman maw, "purpose given to me in being the person I am today." The being stated with such nonchalance was sickening. His soulless, pitch-black eyes bore into the god emperor's own eyes. "You understand it better than I do. You know of my existence, and yet neither of you has bothered to stop me."
"Is it a purpose given to you or a purpose you made for yourself?"
Scoffing at the comment, he looked around at the majesty and splendor of this palace with a sneer of contempt. "It is what I am; there is no reason why I do these things because I can." He paused for a moment in deep thought before continuing, "And if it means wiping out every living being on this planet, including you, to start a new cycle of rebooting everything again, then it is a job that I will happily take upon myself to do."
Marcus shook his head in disappointment. "Everything that happens happens as it should, and if you observe carefully, you will find this to be so." His words held no judgment or malice, just simple observation. "So truly, is this what you wish for most of all?"
Cthulhu stood in silence, contemplating his answer. There was a tension in the air, thick and heavy like a blanket, smothering all hope and drowning out the sun. "Inevitability is a force that not even the gods themselves can control," he started slowly, each word carrying its own weight. "It does not care about us. It will go on, regardless of our desires, regardless of the pain that it causes us."
"When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive, to breathe, to think, to enjoy, and to love." The emperor of Celephais retorted firmly, "Even for a single second, the opportunity should not be wasted or taken lightly." His words would carry weight to an ordinary person, but to an individual who was born with nothing but the desire to endlessly continue for what has passed or will pass, there was little point to this conversation.
Laughter, that's all Marcus received from others: "a foolish and optimistic idealist! Your belief is nothing but ignorant, naive thinking of child," he barked in reply. "Everything happens as it should. All life must come to an end; there is no happiness or good in living but never-ending suffering from the hands of nature or other outside forces," trying to convince that life is worth nothing at all.
But the god emperor insisted, "There must be another reason why you are doing this; man cannot always have one single purpose all the time, for our experiences always change whenever life moves forward. So what is your other deep desire or purpose for doing this?" Marcus questioned with great intent of finding out.
His question was met by a bitter laugh that echoed throughout the room; it was the sound of someone who chose to give up all hope and who was broken beyond the point of no return: "Before life, there was no pain or suffering. It was just blissful nothingness," he spoke in a grim manner, his words almost mocking each other. "But you wouldn't know, would you?"
Marcus knew at the end of the day that his only humans and men couldn't comprehend the capacity of what God thinks and how they operate through logic and emotion. "You want it to end this cycle permanently, don't you?" He finally concluded in a soft tone, understanding what the other god was getting at, "That's why you have committed these atrocities. It's the only way for this to stop the madness that continues to plague existence."
Cthulhu sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumped in resignation. "I do not think myself of a maddening fool who wished the world's destruction because I am evil, but in my heart, I believe to escape this cycle; the complete eradication of all life is the key way to escape from the suffering of life that continues to plague existence," he explained further, his eyes clouded over with sorrow.
"It is not your choice to make," the other countered coolly, "it is man's prerogative to decide whether they live or die, just as you are free to choose. Therefore, what you are doing is within your mind, not outside events that affect our daily lives," stating matter-of-factly, his tone held an air of superiority.
The mad God looked at him in disbelief, unable to believe the sheer audacity of what the human is saying. "A child's imagination and beliefs are nothing compared to reality and future events that will happen to everyone and everything; all is for naught to make a difference," he remarked dryly. "Everyone is destined for something, as free will itself is a myth made for fools," feeling the need to prove his point.
"Then kill me," Marcus held no fear or hesitation in his eyes, "while I will die in this world, the life I made had impacted towards the people I bonded with and the gods I worshiped." The answer that greatly upset Cthulhu was, "I will not disappear; for one reality to another, there is always me who shall be remembered for the things I have done; whether good or bad, I will live as an idea for all eternity no matter what, making everything truly matter of living till eternity."
No sign of laughter or insanity could be heard from others, as it was silence and defeat that were shown instead. "Are you going to fight back?" Cthulhu held no politeness behind his tone of voice. "I can feel your mind and thoughts; your feeble and futile attempts at resisting the worrying thoughts in your heart are becoming weak with every passing second," he said, closing the gap between them even further until they stood toe-to-toe, mere inches apart.
But the brave emperor stood on his ground, looking straight into the monster's eyes. "I will not fight back because I know I'm unable to even hurt you in any capacity." Humility wasn't the reason he refused, nor was it a lie. "I will remain here in my seat, sitting upon my throne as emperor, unmoving to the very end." A sad smile crept up across his face; this time, it was acceptance.
"Your daughter will be distraught to see your corpse after what I will do to you."
A forced laugh left Marcus' mouth. "She will grow, learn, and overcome her own burdens one day to come and greet the horrific world for who she is; that is the reality of things," his own words stung within the god's heart, realizing how idiotic it sounds. "As I die here, my essence still lives within her heart and soul."
With one hand chop motion through Marcus's neck, the man's head quickly cleaved from its place before falling limply to the floor with a dull thud sound. Lifeless eyes stared blankly at him, lips slightly parted as a trickle of blood ran down its side.
"In the end, life is but a dream, and dreams are nothing more than illusionary reality. You should know better than to accept such a time by becoming a slave to fate that controls everyone and everything, pity."
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