Chapter 693 - Grief and the Future

Zeke sat on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the gravestone.  He knew there was nothing beneath the ground.  No body had been recovered.  Yet, his family had correctly assumed that when he returned, he would want some place to concentrate his grief. 

But it didn’t help.

Adara was gone.  In so many ways, it seemed like only recently that they’d met.  They’d spent years together.  Sure, during that time, they’d both been distracted by their duties as they waged a war against the Radiant Host.  But back then, it had felt like they had eternity in front of them.

They should have.

Now, suddenly, she was gone. 

“Do you want to know the worst part?” Zeke asked without glancing at Eveline.  She’d chosen to physically appear, taking the form of a wisp.  She was just a ball of blinking light, but when she took that form, she radiated a sense of rightness that she’d never possessed as a succubus. 

“Not really.”

“I never felt like we really connected,” he said anyway.  “Physically, sure.  There was attraction there, and I liked her.  Maybe I could have loved her.  But we weren’t really there yet.  Not in any way that mattered.  I convinced myself that it was more than it was, that it was further along.  I know that now.”  He sighed.  “I think it could have grown into something special.

“I remember thinking that we were going to tackle the world together,” he went on.  “She was like me.  A fighter.  Maybe it was the ogre in her, but I think it was just that she’d been fighting all her life.  For respect as much as for her life or progression.  I thought we’d go forward, side-by-side, to conquer anyone that stood before us.”

“I wish I could say something to comfort you,” Eveline remarked.  “It’s just that –”

“The whole time I was down there,” Zeke interrupted.  “In Hell, I mean.  That entire time, I only thought about her twice.  Maybe a handful of times.  Over what felt like thousands of years.  What does that say about me, Eveline?  Am I really that callous?  Am I that selfish that I only considered her two or three times over the course of an entire millennia?”

“You had a lot on your mind,” she pointed out.  “I don’t think I need to remind you what you went through.”

He shook his head, then ran his hand through his hair.  “No,” he agreed with a sigh.  “You definitely don’t.  But what I really find suffocating about the whole thing is that Abby featured so prominently.  Adara was an afterthought.  What does that mean?  Did I make a mistake leaving her behind?”

“Which one?” asked Eveline.  “Abby or Adara?”

Zeke shrugged.  “Does it make it worse if I don’t know how to answer that question?” he asked.  “What I had with Abby was toxic.  We weren’t good for one another.  But by comparison, Adara was just…”

“Bland.”

“God, it feels horrible saying that.  But…”

“But it’s true.”

“That definitely doesn’t make it better.”

Indeed, Adara’s death was a shock, but that was less about how it had impacted him and more that it was simply unexpected. 

It wasn’t the only thing that bothered him about his return, though.  He’d dreamed about it so often that he’d built it up as some great thing.  And it was.  The progression of the tower was impressive even on a cosmic scale, and his friends managing to ascend on their own was gratifying in its own way. 

They were weak, though.

Zeke had felt it the second they were reunited.  Even Pudge, who was the strongest among them, was no more powerful than a fly when compared to Zeke himself.  It just reaffirmed that he could only accomplish his goals alone.  Would everyone be better off if he simply disappeared again? 

Maybe.

He turned and lay down on the bench.  Like the grave marker, it was made of stone and looked more weathered than it really was.  After all, there were no erosive effects on this level of the tower.  So, it had been an aesthetic choice.

Probably a good one, all told. 

Zeke had been back for almost a week, and in that time, he’d received a more extensive tour of the tower’s features.  The most interesting – or troubling, he supposed – aspect was the world level, as it was called.  That it featured a host of native wildlife was enough to ignite a wave of existential dread within Zeke’s mind. 

“At least it’s not something you were forced to build on your own.  From what I gather, most domains are like that,” Eveline remarked, clearly in an attempt to distract him from his issues.

“It’s still odd,” he stated.

“You won’t get any argument from me.  Not on that count, at least.  On the other…”

“I said I don’t want to go,” Zeke insisted.  “Not now, at least.  Maybe once I’ve gotten used to all of this, but even then, I don’t know.”

“They’re your followers.”

“Worshippers.  There’s a difference,” he pointed out.

“You know what it would mean to them.”

He did, and that was probably the reason he didn’t want to visit the main temple of a religion that seemed centered around worshipping him.  They didn’t say as much, instead claiming that he was their patron saint and that his traits – courage, strength, and indomitability – were what they truly idolized.  Yet, Zeke knew that that wasn’t true.

He had the divine energy to prove it, too.

“Part of me just wants to run off and start leveling again,” he said.  “You know, killing gods and progressing.”

“But?”

“But I know I’d just be running away,” he answered.  When she let out a faux scoff, he added, “Yes – I’m self-aware to recognize that.  I need to face everything…everyone here.  I just haven’t quite figured out how to do that yet.”

“You could start by talking to them,” Eveline suggested.  “Spending time with them.  They want to, you know.”

“I know,” Zeke said. 

Even at that very moment, he could feel everyone in the tower.  It took a good deal of concentration to narrow it down to specific people, but he could do it with enough effort.  For his friends, who were the strongest among the tower’s residents, it was easier.  Since his return, they’d all been fidgety, and Pudge had been in two arguments with Sasha – both concerning him.

She wanted Pudge to look at it objectively and to distance himself from Zeke, who she considered a negative influence.  Pudge pointedly did not, and he wanted to spend time with his brother. 

Zeke agreed with Sasha.

Talia, meanwhile, poured herself into training, roaming across the world level and killing the most powerful beasts she could find.  The place was the size of Earth, so there were whole ecosystems of strong monsters out there.  None could stand up to her, but that didn’t seem to matter all that much. 

Tucker had sequestered himself in his laboratory, cooking up who knew what.  It was his default defense mechanism for dealing with emotional turmoil. 

Zeke could sympathize most with Talia and Tucker.  Embracing work – or killing – was exactly how he would have approached things.  But he knew none of it was particularly healthy.  He needed to address them.

And that wasn’t even considering others like Jasper, Silik, and a few others with whom Zeke had developed a personal relationship.  They wanted a piece of him too, though he’d yet to give them more than a moment of his presence.  He couldn’t stand the way they looked at him now – like he was a different species.

“You kind of are.”

“I know,” Zeke sighed, staring up at the blue sky.  They’d created Adara’s memorial in the grounds surrounding the Lord’s Manor, so at least he had peace.  “Did you know they have dungeons on the world level?  How does that even work?  This tower is a pocket world all its own, and now there are other pocket worlds nested within it?”

“You know I don’t know the answer to that, Ezekiel.  And there’s no use changing the subject,” she pointed out, derailing his attempt at distraction.  “You need to go to your friends, figure out how you can help them, and then start to decide how you intend to curate your own advancement.”

“They can’t help with it.”

“I know,” Eveline said.  “Even if they could, would you let them?  A clash between a primordial and greater gods is no place for people like them.  Even I struggled to survive against Mak’tar, and I have your mind to shield me.”

“They’re not going to like it.”

“That’s obvious.”

“What should I do?  How should I approach it?” Zeke asked. 

“Carefully.”

He sighed.  “You’re absolutely no help.  You know that, don’t you?” he remarked.

“I’m aware,” was her smug reply as she disappeared into his mind.  For some reason, that left him feeling more alone than ever before.  An odd thing, considering that his friends were only a short teleportation away. 

If he only had someone to fight, things would be better.  It had been so much easier when he’d known the path he was supposed to take.  For all he’d been forced to endure in Hell, he’d at least known which way he was going.  Often, he didn’t know how to get from one point to the other, but he’d known the direction.

Now, he didn’t even know that, except that he needed to kill a bunch of greater gods – only one of which had truly earned her fate. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.  You know that, right?” said Eveline.

“I know.  But I also know that that choice is an illusion.  With what’s out there, with the fact that I can make a difference when so many others failed – I couldn’t live with myself if I chose not to follow this path to The End,” Zeke said.  Then, he added, “I just wish I didn’t have to do it alone.”

“You don’t.”

“They can’t keep up,” Zeke stated.

“I can.  I’m with you until The End, Ezekiel,” Eveline countered.  “You won’t be alone.  I’ll be right there with you.  Even when you inevitably bite off more than you can chew.”

He sighed.

“I suppose that’s comforting,” he admitted.  Finally, he pushed himself upright, then climbed to his feet.  “I guess it’s time to stop delaying the inevitable and make a plan for how we’re going to approach things thing.”

“That does seem prudent.  I’ve spent the past few days perusing the tower’s libraries, and they have amassed a surprisingly detailed account of how to navigate this plane of existence,” Eveline said.  “Even so, we need to speak to Oberon at the very least.  His insight into a plan of attack will prove invaluable.”

“I agree.”

“And you’re going to need to tell your friends they can’t come with you.”

“I know.”

“But not yet.  Perhaps they can play a role,” she said.  “You can’t do everything yourself, after all.  Even you aren’t powerful enough for that.”

“So far,” Zeke said. 

“What?”

“I’m not powerful enough so far.  I will get there at some point.  I just need to keep pushing forward,” he explained.

“So you do,” she agreed.

With that, Zeke set out across the Lord’s Manor, making his way to the teleporter that would take him down to the lower levels of the tower.  As he did, he remembered his journey through Hell – in greater detail than he would have liked – and he took solace in the fact that even with the adversity he’d faced, he’d managed to come out okay.

“You are far from okay, Ezekiel,” Eveline reminded him as he approached the teleporter.  “But that’s a work in progress too.  You’ll recover.  Eventually.”

“I…I hope you’re right,” Zeke said, though he wasn’t so certain her prediction would ever come to pass.  But maybe that was the point.  Perhaps hope was the key component to recovery.  “Let’s go.  We’ve got a lot to do.”