Zeroth knelt in the sand, the warmth from Aenara and Vulcanix's transformation washing over him in gentle waves. He was only vaguely aware of the coliseum emptying around him, of the dozens, then hundreds, of brilliant flashes as the divine audience teleported away, their grand spectacle concluded. His mind was a quiet, humming void, the roaring inferno of the past few hours finally banked, leaving only the embers of a profound, bone-deep exhaustion. He watched the two deities, their forms now complementary rather than opposed, and felt a strange, hollow sense of relief. It seemed, for a moment, that it was all truly over.
He was so lost in the quiet aftermath that he didn't notice the sound of approaching footsteps until they were nearly upon him. He turned his head slowly, his movements stiff and sore. Mira, Kael, and Sylvana approached, their own deities—Cerebrus, Thorund, and Elythra—walking silently beside them, their expressions a mixture of relief, solemnity, and respect.
As Mira's gentle, searching eyes met his, a sharp, sudden pang of grief lanced through Zeroth, cutting through the fog of his exhaustion. Drex. The steadfast half-orc, his powerful form, his rare smile. Gone. The cost of this victory felt suddenly, brutally real again.
Before he could speak, a movement in the distance caught his eye. Aunrae stood with the last remnants of her alliance, their forms battered and weary. She wasn't looking at the gods, but directly at him. There was no animosity in her gaze, no lingering rivalry. Just a profound sense of awe, tinged with a deep, shared sadness for all that had been lost. She held his gaze for a long moment, then gave a single, slow nod—a gesture of respect, of understanding. Then, she and her companions turned and followed their own deities, vanishing in a soft flash of green and earthen light.
Zeroth looked back to Mira, the words catching in his throat. "Mira… I… I'm so sorry," he finally managed, his voice raspy. "About Drex. He was… he was a good man. A hell of a warrior."
Mira offered a small, sad smile, though her eyes were shadowed with her own loss. "He was," she agreed softly. "He died a champion, defending his beliefs and his friends. He will be remembered, Zeroth. And he will be honored." She paused, her gaze drifting for a moment to where Vulcanix and Aenara now stood, speaking in hushed, divine tones. "You did something… remarkable here today. I was watching. The way you dealt with Vulcanix." She looked back at him, her expression one of deep, genuine admiration. "Most would have clung to that power, used it to crush their enemies, to dominate. A lesser person would never have thought to sacrifice that kind of godhood, especially not for the sake of their tormentor."
Kael stepped forward, clapping a hand gently on Zeroth's shoulder. "You didn't just win a fight, Zeroth. You changed a god. That's a victory few in history, mortal or divine, can claim."
Sylvana nodded in agreement, her own quiet strength a comforting presence. "You chose creation over destruction. You brought balance where there was only rage. That is a power greater than any weapon."
Zeroth looked down at his new obsidian arm, at the blood and grime still staining his armor. He didn't feel like a hero. He didn't feel like a victor. He just felt tired. But looking at the faces of his friend and felt a flicker of something else, too. A quiet, resilient hope. It wasn't over, not by a long shot. But this chapter, at least, was closed.
Zeroth's gaze lifted from the faces of his friends, drawn by a movement near the other end of the arena. Delores, her usual mischievous aura now replaced with something softer, more vulnerable, floated gracefully over to where Vulcanix and Aenara stood. Then, to Zeroth's utter astonishment, the powerful, capricious lich launched herself directly into Aenara's arms, hugging her tightly. He couldn't hear what was being said, their words a low, intimate murmur, but the gesture was unmistakable. There was a strange, deep connection between the three of them.
Leaving his companions to continue their conversation with Mira and her group, Zeroth slowly, wearily, made his way towards them, a look of slight confusion on his face. This whole situation was getting stranger by the second. As he approached, he cleared his throat, the sound rough and out of place in the quiet, divine moment.
Delores pulled back from Aenara, floating slightly away, her small hand quickly wiping something from her cheek. Zeroth could have sworn it was a tear.
"Uh, sorry to interrupt," Zeroth began, his voice still raspy. He looked from Vulcanix to Delores, then finally to Aenara, the words heavy with a guilt that still gnawed at him. "I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For Pyronox. I should have done better. I should have protected him." He paused, a flicker of his old, gruff nature returning. "Even though you two did send him to kill me."
Both Vulcanix and Delores visibly cringed at that last part. Aenara's silver eyebrows shot up, her gentle orange eyes flicking between her two companions with a questioning, almost admonishing look.
Delores was the first to speak, her voice losing its usual theatrical flair, becoming something more genuine, almost apologetic. "Yes, well… about that. I was under the impression you were a thief, a mortal shamelessly after a god's power for your own gain. I now see that was not the case. I am terribly sorry for being just a tad overprotective of my friend here." She gestured towards Vulcanix, who had the grace to look somewhat abashed.
Aenara's expression softened, and she laid a comforting hand on Delores's shoulder. "They were my first friends, Zeroth," Delores explained, her voice a soft, melodic chime. "When I arrived in this universe, all those centuries ago, they were the ones who found me."
Zeroth's tired brain screeched to a halt. He stared at her, utterly baffled. "Wait… 'arrived'? So… you're not from this universe? How is that even possible?"
Vulcanix and Delores just shrugged in unison, a surprisingly nonchalant gesture from two such powerful beings.
It was Vulcanix who elaborated, his voice, now a deep, resonant baritone without the skeletal rasp, still carrying the heat of the forge. "Ages ago, a landmass, roughly the size of a small continent, simply appeared. Outside the known boundaries of our divine realms. We investigated. Delores was the only living thing on it."
Delores's expression grew distant, a shadow passing over her features. "Everything and everyone I ever knew is… time-locked. Frozen. It has been for over two thousand years. I have no real idea how or why my home, and myself along with it, were teleported to this universe. I was just here."
The revelation was staggering, another layer of cosmic mystery in a day already overflowing with them. Zeroth could only shake his head, a single, weary thought bubbling to the surface.
"Well," he said, his voice flat with exhaustion. "At least it didn't just appear in the middle of the mortal realm. That would've surely caused some mass destruction."
The silence in the coliseum was profound, broken only by the faint, distant hum of the arena's latent magic. Zeroth, still supported by his friends, finally found his voice, the question heavy with a weary hope. He looked past Aenara and Vulcanix, his gaze sweeping across the empty stands.
"So… when do we get to leave?" he asked, his voice rough. "When can we go back to the mortal realm?"
The reaction was immediate and unsettling. Vulcanix and Aenara exchanged a strange, fleeting glance. It wasn't one of anger or annoyance, but something far more complex. When their gazes returned to Zeroth, their expressions held a faint, unmistakable sadness.
As Ardric, Varic, and Tingle began to approach, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, Vulcanix spoke, his voice unusually quiet, stripped of its usual booming arrogance. "Dwarf… Zeroth. It's… not that simple."
"What's not simple?" Zeroth asked, a knot of cold dread beginning to form in his stomach. "The fight's over. Tingle won. We go home."
By now, his friends had reached him, Tingle still looking up at him with wide, worried eyes.
Vulcanix sighed, a sound like shifting tectonic plates. "When Pyronox infused his essence into you, he did more than just heal you. He was a demigod, born of my own divine fire and the chaotic energies of the Fracture. By absorbing him, by making his very being a part of your own… you are no longer just a chosen mortal champion." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "You are something else now. Something between a demigod and an actual god."
The words struck with the force of a physical blow. Ardric, Varic, and Tingle, now close enough to have heard every word, froze.
Then, Ardric exploded.
"FUCK THAT!" he roared, his voice cracking with a sudden, fierce protectiveness. He instantly stepped between Zeroth and the towering deities, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his longsword, his body a defiant shield. "He comes home with us! That's the end of it!"
"He's right!" Tingle piped up, his small form trembling with indignation as he stood beside Ardric. "Zeroth is our friend! He doesn't belong here!"
Varic, his usual cynical demeanor replaced by a cold, dangerous stillness, simply added, "We're not leaving him."
Aenara looked at their fierce, united front, her gentle orange eyes filled with a profound sympathy. She shook her head slowly. "It is not our decision to make," she said, her voice a soft, sorrowful chime. "His very essence has been altered. The mortal realm… it may no longer be able to contain him. To anchor him." She looked at Zeroth, her expression one of deep regret. "Ultimately, it is a matter for Zeroth and Aeonis to decide, on whether or not he is permitted to return. But seeking an audience with the Prime God, when he is both everywhere and nowhere… that may take some time."
The implication hung heavy in the air, a sentence far worse than any prison. He might not just be stuck here for a day, or a week. He might be stuck here forever, a demigod trapped in a realm that was not his own, separated from the world, the friends, and the brother he had just gotten back.
A heavy silence descended, broken only by Ardric's ragged breathing as he stood defiant, a mortal shield against a divine decree. Zeroth reached out, his own hand, the familiar flesh-and-blood one, resting gently on his brother's tense shoulder.
"Ardric," he said, his voice quiet, worn down to its very foundations. "Enough."
"But, Zeroth, we can't just—"
"I'm tired, brother," Zeroth cut him off, the words carrying the weight of battles, of losses, of a world-weariness that felt centuries old. "I'm tired of fighting gods. I'm tired of fighting god-fueled champions. I'm just… tired." He sighed, a sound that seemed to drain the last of the fight from him. "For now… I'll accept it. I'll stay."
"That's not acceptable! We'll find Aeonis, we'll—"
"And we will," Zeroth interrupted again, his voice firm but gentle. This time, he raised his new arm, the obsidian and molten limb a stark, undeniable symbol of his altered state. The gesture, more than his words, silenced Ardric. "As soon as I can, I will find a way to meet with him. I will get out of here. It's not goodbye forever." He offered a weak, reassuring smile. "And hey… you can probably communicate with me through Luminara if you really wanted to. Just try not to bug me during my beauty sleep."
The attempt at humor was fragile, but it was enough. Ardric's shoulders slumped in reluctant acceptance, his own eyes shining with unshed tears.
Tingle then stepped forward, his small face crumpled, his usual boundless energy replaced by a profound, heartbreaking sorrow. He walked right up to Zeroth, his head barely reaching the dwarf's waist, and looked up, his voice shaking. "Zeroth… T-Tingle is going to miss you. More than you could ever know." He sniffled, wiping at his eyes with a soot-stained glove. "Thank you… you, and Ardric, and even Varic. Thank you for becoming my true family."
The words struck Zeroth harder than any physical blow. Varic moved to stand behind the small gnome, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked down, a forced, wavering smirk on his face that did nothing to hide the deep regret and sadness in his eyes. "He'll figure it out, Tingle," Varic said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "He's too damn stubborn not to. We'll be waiting for him. At the Mage's Guild."
Zeroth felt his own control beginning to fracture, the dam of his emotions threatening to break. He swallowed hard, doing everything he could to contain the grief, the unfairness of it all. He leaned down and pulled Tingle into a fierce hug, the small gnome clinging to him tightly. Then he rose and embraced Varic, a quick, hard hug between two friends who rarely showed such affection. Finally, he turned to Ardric, and the two brothers held each other in a long, silent embrace, a lifetime of shared history and a future of uncertainty passing between them.
As he pulled back, a soft, golden light bloomed nearby. Luminara stood there, her expression one of gentle, divine sorrow. "It is time to go," she said softly.
The finality of her words was a physical blow. Tingle began to cry in earnest, clinging to Zeroth's armor. With a pained expression, Varic had to gently pull the gnome away, guiding the small, sobbing figure towards the brilliant, shimmering portal that Luminara had opened.
As they walked away, Zeroth felt a warm, comforting touch on each of his shoulders. He looked up to see Vulcanix and Aenara standing beside him, the two deities looking down at him not with arrogance or pity, but with an immense, shared hurt in their eyes, as if his pain were their own.
Zeroth raised a hand, his new, strange hand, and gave one final wave to his friends, his family, as they stepped through the golden gateway. He watched as Tingle looked back one last time, as Ardric met his gaze with a look of fierce, unwavering promise, as Varic gave a final, solemn nod.
Then, they entered the portal. And vanished.
The gateway closed, leaving Zeroth standing between two gods in the vast, hauntingly empty coliseum, the silence now a crushing, lonely weight. he silence now was a crushing, lonely weight. He looked down at his new obsidian arm, the molten veins pulsing with a quiet, steady rhythm—a living monument to a friend's sacrifice. He looked up at the empty stands where his brother had stood moments before.
He had won. He had saved them. And he had lost everything he had ever known.
Aenara laid a gentle, silvery hand on his shoulder. "It is not an end, Zeroth Velkyrr," she said softly. "It is a beginning."
Zeroth didn't know if he believed her. But as he stood there, a dwarf forged into something like a god, a stranger in the realm of the divine, he knew one thing. He knew this wasn't over. He could feel it like the lightest breeze through his beard.