Bro, I'm not an Undead!



Thrill did not need to take a look at the Crystalline Prison to realise that within it, was the frozen figure of Musing with his wand pointed outward, his mouths ajar.

He did not even have the time nor the gall to dwell on how easily centuries of hard work were erased in a matter of seconds, but a power he and his people had never accounted for – not that it was their fault.

The presence of the anomaly among the Curses wafted ruthlessly from beside him, and all sense of defiance and confidence drifted away with its continuous pulse.

HE was finally free after all this time.

"Great Father Hope..." Thrill squealed in a subdued voice as his knees gave out, and not because he was succumbing to the song of the Collective again.

The thunderous presence of the Curse with six arms, six wands and three mouths turned more tumultuous.

"Oh..." the Mad Bishop keenly voiced as she looked at the creature.

It wasn't only she who gazed at the Curse.

Its presence wasn't so expansive that all could feel its treacherous thrum, but everyone looked this way nevertheless.

They were drawn to the creature subconsciously.

The Curses who had been caught by the Collective song, were forcefully shaken awake only to age by several decades as they saw the ancient Curse, named Great Father Hope by Thrill, free.

Replicus was more than a little fascinated.

He could feel the two genuine purple mana cores within the creature as it made movements to flex its innards; it almost seemed funny that after what was hinted to be centuries of imprisonment, the six-armed creature only felt slightly stiff.

The Penetrator knew high Tier beasts seemed to be immune to basic necessities, like the Grinning Jester Fox which had guarded Fulgardt's Labyrinth for thousands of years without moving, though that time frame was brought into question given what Replicus now knew about the Ashing of Time.

The freed Curse wound its arms and craned its neck as an "Ah" left its mouths after several cracks.

Its multi-coloured garb – spotting gold, blue and silver – seemed to shine all the brighter... and then it spoke for the first time as Thrill's Nitros, initially intended to erect a Territory, dissipated.

"The one to free me seems to be a foreigner," Hope said in an even voice before turning his head to Thrill who shrank. "I've felt that prison grew stronger many times and the same happened recently. I take it you had no hand in my release."

Thrill shuddered.

Hope tapped one of his six wands with another, and took a deep, audible breath. He seemed to then turn his sights towards the greenery, and an unmistakable look of displeasure showed on his face.

"What is this? Why cover the gold? Why hide it? It provides you with your beloved wands, it sustains your existence and you dare sully its dignity in this manner?" Hope spat, the target being Thrill.

"Oh no, I'll take credit for that, thank you. That would be my work," the Mad Bishop pointed out in a proud manner.

Hope turned.

"You and your... many friends, I presume," he said, referencing the many Factions he could see around and behind a distant cathedral.

The Mad Bishop nodded eagerly.

"I see. I presume the nasty scratches in my ear are also your product," Hope said as he raised one of his wands; one with the darkest shade of gold among the rest.

It seemed the Collective song was ineffective against him.

"That is very true," the Mad Bishop answered hurriedly, "Erm, if you don't mind, I had questions that your fellows wouldn't answer. An old timer like you must not be aware, but this world just got a rift that leads outside into a much bigger world. A very fun world. Your little friends here refused to leave, and would rather continue to work to keep you trapped while keeping this world as a habitat. Why is that?"

Thrill looked as though he was about to turn into a worm and sink underground.

Hope was evidently surprised by the carefree manner in which the Mad Bishop spoke. She could have been easily asking about a job vacancy at a bakery.

The Curse's mouths moved, expressing different variations of motion.

"You seem rather curious," he said as he drew closer to the Mad Bishop. "We are born of the gold. It is our mother, and once in many centuries, one of us is deigned as the Father of all those born from it. We have an aggressive attachment to our mother, see, and we perceive it with obsessive adoration. Our yearning for it grew too vile when we were like you, creatures with eyes. We only obtained sanity after losing such sight, moderating our love for gold. Still, we cannot live without it. Is it the same for you creatures?"

By the time Hope finished speaking, he was already face to face with the Mad Bishop who kept nodding childishly.

Completely unconcerned by the enemy's position, the Mad Bishop then beamed.

"Of course! The irony!" she said thoughtfully. "Another race born in a Cluster, evolving much like humans and their lust for gold. Curse you, foul Deities and your disgusting proclivity for creativity!"

Hope did not react to the Mad Bishop's words.

He instead pointed his wand behind her.

BOOOM!

Without delay, something distant crumbled like a towering mass of rock!

As it turned out, it was the exit to the Cluster which had been covered up and concealed by Thrill earlier!

Now, it was open once again – a large crack in space that led outside, where a massive platform of gold had replaced the poisonous waters of the ocean.

A different kind of air wafted from the outside world into the Cluster. It had a strangely comforting 'taste' for those that had grown used to the voyage on the ocean.

"Go," Hope said. "In exchange for setting me free, I will allow you and your people to leave."

The Mad Bishop looked appalled.

That thing was letting them go?

...That was it?!

While anyone else who could feel the dreadful energy from Great Father Hope would have nodded timidly and put the heel to the back of the head, the Mad Bishop didn't.

Her face turned graceful rebellious.

She took a step closer towards Hope, which made it very suspicious why she remained immune to getting overtaken by the emotion he exuded.

"Ah, how generous. But you see, short of a lifetime's worth of bread, there's nothing you could give me that would quite be comparable to me saving you from your prison," she said. "Certainly not freedom. Do I look like a caged bird to you?!"

Hope didn't look too surprised. He was a little puzzled by wording.

"What is it that you want, then?" he asked.

The Mad Bishop grinned.

Her right hand attained a soft glow, and she extended it towards Hope.

"How about you join my Faith, hmmm? Shake my hand, and we'll call it even," she said.

Before Hope could even begin to show the expected degree of scepticism, nine figures flashed above him and the Mad Bishop, their brilliant tunics glowing as bright as the bows and arrows they held, aiming at the Curse.

At the same time, Great Father Hope found that he and the Mad Bishop were enclosed within what looked like a courtyard to a massive structure – a layered cathedral that looked exactly like the one he had noticed far off.

"Unfortunately, 'No' isn't an option. I'd have to label you insane in that case," the Mad Bishop added.

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