Sometimes, great warriors are those that come from the extraordinary, men and women who were destined for greatness. It is only the greatest of warriors, however, that come from nothing, rising up from the ashes akin to a phoenix. They were not handed destiny, yet they took it by the neck and demanded it.

• Excerpt from the Scripture of Heroes.

**

Brock wasn’t sure exactly how long he had knelt next to the corpse of Ur’Kahn, yet he continued to do so, even as the crimson hazed sun began to dip over the horizon. He also wasn’t too sure when the tears had begun to leak from his eyes, but like the act of kneeling, they didn’t stop either.

“…I’m… alone again, huh?”

After weeks of brutal combat, trekking through the unknown, the fear, the unfamiliarity, the pain and loneliness; Brock had finally found someone. He was a monster, and someone he had to kill to ensure his own survival anyway, but Brock had found someone. And for the first time since he was thrown into the jungle, he hadn’t been alone anymore.

But now he was, and it was by his own doing. Ur’Kahn had been a sentient being, one capable of thoughts and emotions and desires, and Brock had slain him. Though, it hurt remarkably less than what he thought killing another person would be like. The loneliness was far worse a punishment than anything his consciousness could conjure.

The effects of the Vial had long expired, but in the time it was active, his Vitality had miraculously managed to stabilize him somewhat. It didn’t stop the occasion regurgitations of his own innards, however. His body was reduced to a vessel of agony, and any movement seemed to cause him every single kind of pain. To add insult to injury, his head was throbbing ceaselessly, probably from the overuse of his Augment.

As it was, he was barely keeping himself conscious.

Soon, as Brock bid his honourable companion a sincere goodbye, the final shard of golden radiance floated out from the beast’s chest, and promptly, it dissipated into a mist as all the others had before it, hovering over and entering his chest.

[The final Fragment of the Key has been obtained and merged with the current Key Fragments in your possession.]

[Sub-Quest completed.]

The Place Beyond: Approach the domain of West and North and slay both them and their Packs. Rewards: User Tailored Treasure, Key to the Gateway. (4/4)

• Failure will result in the Source becoming inaccessible to you.

 

Aside from noticing the fact that the System always seemed to choose blessedly opportune times to bring up his quest prompts, Brock also realised that the Key Fragments obtained by killing the Alphas seemed to be a hidden requisite to complete the quest. But none of that matter right now, as the office worker found his sombre mood fade slightly as the subtle excitement of rewards allured him.

Seconds later, an astonishing amount of the golden mist flowed out from within him like it was spraying from a broken tap, congealing in front of him into something of vaguely key shape. It took a minute or so before it all finally calmed down, but the residue mist began to dissipate and the area was instantly washed in a faint aura of the divine, a rigid crystalline key hovering before him gently.

Curiously, Brock strained his overtaxed muscles and reached out, grasping the warm surface of the item. He flinched as it shattered and disappeared.

[Key to the Gateway acquired. Number of uses: 1]

Inwardly, Brock felt a slight power wash through him, though it quickly exited through his pores in a white mist that silently spoke of divinity and darker secrets. It was almost non-existent, but Brock felt a connection between him and something form within his mind, gently leading him to go directly to his right. Smiling, Brock was certain it was the location of the Source.

He wasn’t given any time to contemplate on it, however, as the next item appeared; his ‘User Tailored Treasure’. Going by the name, he presumed it to be perfectly suited for his use, much to his utter joy. In front of him, crimson energy began to swirl and solidify into the form of an unassuming round fruit of an indeterminate kind.

Grinning widely, Brock watched as the formation of it finished and the apple-like Treasure fell straight down, promptly exploding into chunks as it hit the overgrown asphalt. Still smiling, Brock surveyed the broken pieces of his apple as they quickly became devoid of their energy, wisps of the stuff escaping to the air.

His smile slowly became replaced by an emotionless visage, and Brock watched the remains of his User Tailored Treasure intensely.

[Error in item height placement found. Error reported.]

Brock ignored his bodily pain and placed his hands on his face, breaking down into tears.

**

Rummaging through the floral rubble of the temple five days later, Brock scanned over his gains, which only happened to be just a silver ring that was several sizes too large for him. He had also seen a similar item on Ur’Kahn’s finger and pinned it as being the place where the Vial came from. Brock assumed that they were some sort of magical storage item, and had wanted Ur’Kahn’s for himself, but he found himself disgusted by the idea of looting his corpse.

Plus, a ring that size could have been used as a crown for Brock. I think I’d struggle to keep it on my head.

The ring he had found, however, was just about big enough to put two of his fingers through, and he thought it as being the go-to storage item for a smaller Ur’Kahn from the past. He didn’t know exactly what the werewolf had been doing in here when he’d been sucking in all the energy, but he assumed it had to be some kind of evolution or some such, as there is no way someone of his size would fit in the temple otherwise.

It had been a long process, but Brock had finally been able to set out a few hours earlier and search for this place. The past five days had been spent entirely on recuperating. Walking had been out of the picture for a considerable amount of time what with the numbness of his lower body, but even when it had healed, any movements too aggressive caused an upsurge of blood spewing from his mouth.

His body was still relatively in ruins, but at least he was on his feet once again.

Grasping the dull silver item in between his thumb and index finger, Brock inspected the item, prodding at it both physically and mentally, though both yielded no results. Either way, he knew that he would eventually find a way to use the item, and he plucked a thin vine from one of the pieces of rubble, before looping it through and tying it together, transforming the oversized ring into a primal necklace.

Promptly, he donned it. I always loved the loot part of games, I guess.

The loss of his Treasure due to the spiteful machinations of the System had hurt, but at least the gain of a presumed storage item helped ease that pain, if only slightly.

Fuck you, asshole.

With everything out of the way, and his grievous injuries tiptoeing the realm of being majorly impactful, Brock followed the vague presence in his mind and went diagonally to the right, his current position having seen the directions provided altered slightly.

As he trekked, Brock noticed that not a single of the wolves he saw seemed to want to fight him, in fact, they scurried out the way as soon as they noticed him, almost as though they were deferring to his strength. Without realizing it, Brock had become the new Alpha of the jungle, and his reign was supreme. No beast was willing to challenge the dominion of the strongest.

He walked further and further, and the trees began to increase in their wild growth, the canopies becoming the vastness of the sky itself as they blotted out even the red, Martian-esque expanse above.

Buildings commonly became replaced by the trees, consumed in humongous trunks of ashy grey wood, the flora more vibrant and untamed than it had ever been before. And slowly, ever so slowly, Brock began to notice an aura of divinity as it subtly suffused the area.

He was certain he was heading in the right direction.

Soon, Brock found the road becoming exceedingly difficult to manoeuvrer, with a plethora of roots both thick and thin weaving throughout, forcing him to climb, duck and dodge every step of the way. It was only a few, but he even noticed that some roots had streaks of a golden complexion, compared to that of the usual grey of the area.

And that sudden ruggedness of the terrain had made all the difference – negatively - when he’d stumbled across another raging croco-Treant. Fortunately, he was powerful enough to deal with the monstrosity, but not at the cost of a gruesome few gashes along his flesh. As he ended its life, he spared a glance for its corpse and continued moving.

Silently contemplating his experiences in this place, Brock realised that it had been some time since he had seen himself ‘glitch’. In fact, the last time he remembered it was back in the fight with South. It hadn’t occurred since. Though, over time he had come to find that the energies he absorbed upon killing an enemy were slightly reminiscent of the first example of Original Life he had witnessed.

It was possible that killing so many high-levelled creatures had been staving off his strange condition with the energies they repeatedly flooded him with. It seemed to only be a stopgap solution compared to what the System looked to be providing with his quest, however.

Brock hiked on for a little while longer before that very same prompt he had tried to bring up so many times miraculously flickered into existence.

Second Dose: Collect the Original Life from the Source to stabilise your fluctuating state of being. Reward: The ability to remain alive. (0/1)

• You have 23:59:59 until permanent destabilisation.

A quick check showed Brock that he had less than 24 hours until he was to meet his end, and he picked up the pace further, much to the protest of his aching extremities. One weird thing Brock had noticed, was that he had never remembered the city being as big as it was currently, in fact, the distances he had walked to go from one end to another were all wrong compared to what he knew.

Though, the biggest case of this strange phenomenon was right now, where the trek toward what Brock assumed was the centre of the jungle seemed to stretch on endlessly. The aura of divinity had only increased by a small amount in the hours that he continued to walk, scaring him into thinking the Source was still quite a distance away.

If he came this far, only to die due to time restraints, Brock would haunt the System. He promised it.

But his fears were soon alleviated as he crossed some kind of threshold. The grey roots of the crimson jungle became increasingly sparse, with the golden roots becoming exceedingly common. The aura of divinity ramped up significantly too, invading the area with a transparent white fog, something which complemented the commonly appearing white leaves and flora perfectly.

In this strange part of the urban jungle - something Brock decided to deem as merely the Centre with all his creative might - he saw no beasts, only still Treants as they lay dormant alongside the road, which had now become a woven tapestry of roots and peeking shrubbery. It was strange, to walk among the creatures and see them laying so peacefully. They had a dim yellow glow shining from within them, guaranteeing that it at least wasn’t a land of floral corpses.

And finally, Brock reached a dead end, finding the roots climbing up vertically into an imitation of a cliff face and barring further passage through this road. Brock, who wasn’t filled with joy at the idea of backtracking and finding another road, gritted his teeth and channelled his inner mountain goat, proceeding to scale up the root wall using knots in the wood and gaps in the weave.

He managed, after several gruelling minutes, to grip the top of the natural cliff and pull himself up and onto its oddly flat surface. Panting, Brock helped himself up and stood upon the plateau, overlooking the vast expanse that was now readily revealed to him.

Up where he was, the aura of divinity was practically radiant in its might, conveying a boundless life, one far beyond anything Brock had ever experienced before. He couldn’t be certain, but he felt that this was the Original Life that the System seemed to speak of so often. It blanketed the area in a swirling mist of white, and the flora beside him seemed to grow at a visible pace in its presence.

Down below him, Brock recognised what had once been the city square and a considerable portion of its surroundings. Although, it was now populated by an uncountable amount of golden roots, weaving and snaking across the place in its entirety. Each overshadowed the sparse presence of buildings with their heavenly complexion.

Around the very edges of the square, gold roots seemed to form cliffs just like the one Brock found himself on currently, barring off the divine location to those unworthy of witnessing its majesty.

In the centre of it all was a single tree. It was… utterly gargantuan, the mere radius of it spanning more than the entire street Brock worked on and then some. It stretched on into the sky endlessly, tearing past the clouds and bathing the fluffy white cotton balls in the vast shadow of its canopy.

It was hard to see the exact details from where he was, but Brock noticed that glowing inscriptions seemed to be scrawled across every inch of the tree’s glorious trunk, speaking of the mysterious lore’s of forgotten ages long past and the hidden truths of the very universe itself. Just glancing at it empowered Brock’s idle headache by several-fold.

High in the sky above everything else, space seemed to shimmer, the reflections masking the peaks of the canopy to him. Camo…?

But most of all, the dim presence in Brock’s mind was now a flaring beacon, and it was pointing directly to that tree. The office worker was all too happy to oblige and approach it to save his own life. There was just one question he had regarding the massive monument of nature’s primordial might.

“…How the fuck didn’t I see this before?”

It was a good question.