Chapter 741 - A Needed Meeting

The Ways were busy, and Zeke almost felt anonymous.  Certainly, there were a few stray glances here and there.  Most people could feel that he was fundamentally different than them.  But they had no idea just how far above them he truly stood.  That was freeing in a way that he should have but failed to predict.

“How far is it?” he asked, glancing toward the kobold who’d been assigned to escort him.  Pudge would have done it, but as a fairly new greater god, his schedule was very full.  It didn’t allow him to go on any long journeys.  Silik was busy too, which should not have been surprising.  He had an army of billions to manage, after all.  The best he could do was send one of his subordinates to guide Zeke through the Ways.

Of course, Zeke had initially refused.  He didn’t need an escort.  But everyone had insisted that he couldn’t simply go alone, and he was in no mood for an argument.  Odd that, even with all his power, he could still be defeated by a desire to avoid confrontation with his companions. 

The kobold in question answered, “It will be at least two days travel, Ak-toh.”

Zeke hadn’t even learned the kobold’s name, though he was struck by just much the species had changed.  From a physical standpoint, the kobold was only a little different from his predecessors.  However, those ancestors’ demeanors were so different that they seemed an entirely different species. 

He should have expected as much.  After all, close to ten thousand years had passed since he’d taken the entire kobold population under his wing.  Of course their culture had evolved.

The most noticeable difference was in the kobold’s attire, which tended toward flowing robes and interestingly designed jewelry.  Like all male kobolds, his crest was the same color as the rest of his scales, but he’d interwoven a series of silver chains and piercings that cast it in a different light.  In addition, his sedate demeanor was far removed from the tribal and often savage actions of the past. 

“How old are you?” Zeke asked as they strode through the Ways.  They were between platforms, and the bridge wasn’t overly populated.  There were people around, but they were sparse, which gave Zeke and his escort a little privacy. 

“I am three-hundred and twelve years old,” he answered.  “Of course, I am using the tower years as a base.  By standard time, I am closer to four hundred.”

“And your stage of progression?” Zeke asked. 

“I am a lesser god,” he responded.  “Though my focus is not combat, so it is sometimes difficult to express my power.”

Zeke nodded.  It was difficult to wrap his mind around the notion that this random functionary of the tower was more powerful than he’d been when he’d descended into hell.  At least according to the Framework.  Functionally, Zeke knew that just wasn’t the truth.  He could have snapped the guide in half without a second thought. 

But he also knew that his perspective was an uncommon one.  As such, it was difficult for Zeke to comprehend the different levels of power, especially with everyone standing on such a lower tier than his own.  There was no comparison between him and a lesser god.  Even greater gods like Pudge were nothing compared to Zeke.

In all of creation, there were only two people he thought capable of rivaling him.  One was Shar Maelaine, who was the most powerful greater god in all of existence, and one at the peak of her strength.  The other was the Waymaster, who Zeke had begun to think of as something else entirely.

Above them all was the Creator himself, though he clearly had little interest in interfering with those beneath him.  Not in any appreciable way. 

That solidified realization came with a note of loneliness that he wished he could simply move past. 

There was a part of him that wanted to retreat to space and return to his threads.  A big part.  But how would the Ethereal Realm have changed if he isolated himself for another ten thousand years? A  hundred thousand?  A million?  He expected that some thing would stay the same.  But others?

Certainly, his friends wouldn’t survive that long.  A greater god’s lifespan was incredibly extended, but they weren’t immortal.  They would die.  Oberon had taught Zeke that much, at least. 

And Zeke had to admit that, in some ways, that would be better.  Without anyone tying him down, he would be free to do what was necessary.

But in every other way, he wondered if he should instead be using what time they had together while it lasted.  Once they were gone – once he was truly alone – he would doubtless regret every moment he spent away. 

Which was why he found himself trekking through the Ways.

Of course, he couldn’t do so without drawing the Waymaster’s attention.  When they reached the next platform, there was a drone waiting for them. At a glance, Zeke saw that this drone was different from the ones that patrolled and guarded the Ways.  More powerful.  Almost a greater god in its own right. 

It was also sleeker, its metal body shinier and more articulate.  It almost felt like a true person. 

“Greetings,” it said with a slight bow.  “My master requests your presence.”

Zeke glanced around to see that the meeting had drawn quite a few eyes.  They still couldn’t sense what he was.  In a deft manipulation of the threads, he’d inverted his signature to the point where he almost appeared mundane.  But if he was meeting with such a creature, then the other travelers knew he was something special.

He frowned.  He didn’t relish the distraction.  He wanted to reach his destination and do what was necessary.  After all, the last few times he’d gone off on his own, he’d ended up spending hundreds – or thousands – of years alone.  He couldn’t allow that to happen again.

Not until he was ready.

Still, the Waymaster was powerful enough that Zeke couldn’t simply ignore his request.  What’s more, he could easily bar Zeke from passage, which would make traveling between universes much more difficult. 

There were plenty of ships like the Mercury that could manage it, but Zeke preferred the simplicity and speed of the Ways.  Most people did, which was likely the source of the Waymaster’s power. 

“I mean, it’s right there in the name,” Zeke muttered to himself.

“What?” asked the kobold.

“Nothing,” he answered.  “You should probably go back home.  I’ll be fine.”  Then, to the drone, he said, “Let’s get this over with.”

The kobold looked as if he wanted to argue, but a firm look from Zeke was all it took to cut that off.  Soon enough, Zeke found himself following the drone across the adjoining platform.  They stopped at the edge. 

Zeke was about to say something when he saw the threads erupt into motion, weaving together to form a path that led away from the platform.  Without a word, the drone strode forward, and Zeke followed.

The protective shield that surrounded most of the Ways and platforms was much thinner in the new off-shoot, and Zeke could feel the void even better than before.  Only a few feet away, he could sense the density of the Framework as well as the ever-present adversary trying to weave its way through the tangled web of threads. 

Oddly enough, Zeke wanted nothing more than to step off the path and confront the thing.  The last time he’d done so, he’d been much, much weaker.  Indeed, back then, he could barely even perceive the threads.  Now, he had spent thousands of years learning to manipulate them.

“Don’t.”

“What?” Zeke asked.

“Do not do what you are considering,” the drone elaborated.  Its voice was subtly different.  More authoritative and laced with unseen power.  “Nothing good will come of it.”

“Waymaster.”

The drone didn’t confirm the suspicion that the Waymaster had taken full control of its functions.  Instead, it said, “I have gone down that road.  I have spent eons fighting the adversary.  There is no true victory in that direction.  And very little knowledge.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Zeke admitted as they walked.  After all, his first experience with the adversary had been transformative.  Certainly, it had nearly broken him, and in a way that could never be repaired.  But it had changed him, body, mind and soul.  He expected something similar would happen if he stepped off the path again.

“Believe it or not, it is the truth,” the Waymaster said through the drone.  “Ah, but I can predict that you wonder if there is any such thing as truth, do you not?  If we are all just threads, then what is real?  What is true?  What are facts, if you can change the nature of reality on a whim?”

“Something like that,” Zeke admitted. 

“All good questions.”

“But you have no answers,” Zeke predicted.

“None that you will accept.”

With that, the drone continued to lead him along in silence.  Meanwhile, Zeke pondered the short conversation.  He’d not really gotten any real information out of the drone, but he thought he’d learned at least a little.  For instance, that the Waymaster likely wrestled with many of the same problems plaguing Zeke himself.

Either way, Zeke continued to follow the drone until, at last, he saw something looming in the distance.  And it was impressive by anyone’s standard. 

From one perspective, it was a massive domed platform, emblazoned with so many runes that Zeke lost track of where each one ended and the others began.  The white-and-gold structure loomed in a way that few other buildings could manage, especially after everything Zeke had witnessed. 

After all, he’d seen the wonders of space.  He had witnessed things like a giant alien head-turned-city.  By comparison, the dome should have seemed mundane.  But it wasn’t.  It lorded over Zeke’s awareness like a specter of doom, both awe inspiring as well as terrifying. 

The drone led him forward without hesitation.

As they drew closer, Zeke looked at the dome through a different lens.  A simple shift of his perspective showed him that it was composed of so many threads that they looked almost solid.  He’d not witnessed anything like that since the cube-like prison.  It established something he’d long known – that the Waymaster was much more powerful than a simple greater god should have been.

Zeke let out a slight chuckle at that.

“What is it?” asked the drone.

“Nothing. Just thinking about my skewed perspective.  That I can think of gods, greater or lesser, as weak is still a little disconcerting,” Zeke admitted. 

“One grows accustomed to that.”

“I’m not quite there yet.”

“It is…lonely at the top,” the Waymaster said through the drone.  “I understand that better than most.”

Zeke felt a world of meaning in that simple admission, like he’d found something of a kindred spirit.  Perhaps he had.  As far as he knew, the Waymaster had been alive for far longer than anyone else in all of reality, save for the Creator himself.  As such, he had likely encountered many of those same problems. 

Did that meant hey would soon become best friends?  True companions?  Would the Waymaster suddenly agree to mentor him?  No.  None of that was going to happen.  But perhaps he could help Zeke to understand how to deal with the issues he faced.  If not through advice, then just by providing an example for Zeke to study.

So, it was with some degree of eagerness that he followed the drone forward.  As they walked, the path disassembled behind them.  Though Zeke didn’t fear being stranded.  Not only did he believe the Waymaster wanted what was best for him – after a fashion – but he also felt that he could make his way back on his own.

Perhaps he was one of the few people in all of existence who could make that claim.

Soon enough, they reached the dome, only to find themselves facing a simple door.  It slid open to reveal a large chamber.  Zeke stepped inside, and when the door slid shut – without the drone following – he felt something he hadn’t since he’d entered the cube.

He was cut off from everything. 

But he was far more concerned by what he saw floating in the center of that chamber. 

“Not really what I expected,” Zeke admitted.