The Path To The Peak

What Ged saw was bizarre.

In front of him, an array of body parts hovered in the air.

They all belonged to a single person, connected by a single soul sprout thread that ran through the center of each piece, holding them together like a marionette under an unseen controller.

Even the three ribs protruding from his chest were bound to this thread.

With a sharp tug, the ribs tore free from Ged's body.

As he staggered, the floating body parts loomed and began to merge, coalescing into a single coherent shape.

He keeled over, pressing against the wound in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding, yet his gaze never wavered from the grotesque sight before him.

Once the pieces fully assembled, the horrifying truth became clear—this grotesque form belonged to Gore.

"Gore… what the hell am I looking at?" Ged muttered, eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"I didn't want it to be this way," Gore replied. "If only you hadn't seen what you saw, you could have lived another day."

Ged's expression darkened.

What has Gore become? How could he still be considered alive when he can pull his body apart like that? Uncertainty washed over him as he wracked his brain for a way to deal with the nightmarish figure before him.

Attempting to set up a Peg with his soul sprout, he looked for an opportunity to turn the tide, but Gore was already ahead of him.

Gore's soul sprout erupted from his body like a cannon, twisting into the form of a knife. In a single swift motion, he slashed through Ged's extended soul sprout, severing it completely. Against the unfathomable being before him, his fate was all but sealed.

Ged gritted his teeth, trying to hold himself together, his mind and body in unbearable pain. The effects of soul misalignment surged through him, causing him to falter.

He struggled to stand.

He could no longer fight. His only option was to reason with him.

"Gore, I am not lying to you," Ged said, his voice strained with exasperation. "I didn't look up from the exit, I didn't see anything I wasn't supposed to. I have no interest in whatever is inside here, nor whatever secret you are hiding from me about your identity."

"This isn't necessary, Gore. You don't have to go so far and kill me. We've known each other for years, you know I wouldn't tell a soul about any of this."

Gore remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Then, his body tore itself apart, his soul thread unraveling his flesh into a swirling mass. The chaotic motion coalesced, reshaping itself into an enormous, Gore-sized fist that hovered in the air like a specter.

Two bulging eyes surfaced on the hand's exterior.

"Ged, you can't hide it from me. I see it in your eyes. You've made a connection with the Peak." Gore's voice was deep and sinister.

Ged frowned, unable to respond.

"It's a shame, Ged. I really was hoping to spare you. But now… I have no choice," Gore sighed, his tone turned demonic. "I must devour your eyes and scatter your soul across space-time."

Ged's eyes widened.

The Gore-hand lunged forward.

Ged tried to dodge, but Gore was too fast.

The monstrous fist clamped around him, squeezing until he could no longer move.

His body screamed with pain. Desperate, he scanned the room, his mind racing. What was Gore talking about? What is the Peak? What had I seen?

From within the massive hand, an amalgamation of flesh and bones emerged, forming a pair of chattering mouths with the writhing bodies of fleshy eels. Each eel twisted and snapped hungrily, ready to devour his eyes.

Methodically, they slithered across the Gore-hand, inching closer to his face.

Then it hit him.

The insect!

His mind flashed back to the strange, buzzing insect he had killed without a second thought. It was the only thing he could think of. The only thing Gore might not have wanted him to see.

The chattering eels were just inches away from his face.

Ged scrambled through his memories, recalling the moment he had glanced at his palm.

But back then… he had seen nothing.

What was I not supposed to see?

Frantic, he replayed the image in his mind.

The eels loomed in front of him, their mouths opening wide.

A speck of green.

There was a single, distant speck of green in the center of his palm.

The image lingered in his mind. He focused every ounce of his being on it. In front of him, the speck of green sharpened, as if reality itself was drawing him toward it.

Like a moth to a flame, he was pulled in.

The world around him blurred.

His consciousness was ripped from his body, drawn at unimaginable speeds toward the distant green speck.

His awareness faded to black as he was flung into a distant realm beyond space and time.

As his mind drifted through the void, elsewhere, an event was just beginning to unfold...

***

In a realm far removed from reality, on the white deserts of pure nothingness,

a strange, shape-shifting entity walked.

With each step, his form shifted through a variety of animals. One moment he was a bear, the next a warthog, until, on the eleventh step, he assumed his true form.

He was humanoid in shape, but something was profoundly wrong. The top half of his head was missing, replaced by a dazzling, hovering orange sun that crowned him in a blinding glow.

He halted, arms raised high into the air.

In response, the sky twisted and contorted. Strange purple thunderclouds gathered, releasing ominous streaks of black lightning.

At the heart of the storm, looming above, was the bottom of an impossibly vast green sphere.

"I am known as Guul," he thundered toward the sphere.

"I have mastered the shapes of eleven animals and perfected the forms of three hundred plants. My name is feared across the land. Among my peers, I stand unmatched. In my home region, I am unrivaled.

"But still, I am lost."

"These days, I cannot find a path forward."

"I seek answers."

"Guide me."

"Point me in the right direction."

"How do I reach the Peak?"

A single bolt of black lightning struck, crashing into Guul with the force of total annihilation.

He did not flinch in the face of the destruction. Instead, the lifeless body of a bear collapsed at his feet, shed like old skin from his bizarre figure.

Above, the green sphere seemed to step ever so slightly closer, yet it remained impossibly distant.

Guul laughed maniacally.

"More!" The sun atop his head burned a deep, furious red. "Show me more! I must know what I am lacking!"

The thunder in the sky grew fierce.

Obliging the man's request, the sky unleashed a barrage of ten black streaks of lightning upon him.

With each strike, an animal corpse fell out of his body.

For the first time, Guul staggered. But his expression remained firm, his eyes locked defiantly on the storming heavens.

"I must improve!" He roared.

"I do not fear death!"

"I only fear stagnation."

"Kill me if you must. But before I go, please just tell me..."

"What is the path one has to take to reach the Peak?" His voice fell to a whisper.

The sky seethed and swirled with hatred over the question.

The clouds tore apart, revealing a colossal purple spear.

It descended with terrifying speed.

Time slowed.

The spear hovered inches from Guul's face.

His expression remained neutral.

The green sphere lurched forward revealing more of its incredible form.

In that moment, before death could claim him, his wish was granted.

And in that instant, he saw it—the path to the Peak

A beam of light cascaded down from the green sphere, stretching across the sky in an unfathomable arc.

Within that beam, drifting unaware, was the consciousness of Ged, who was being transported toward the distant green sphere.

Guul, his voice hoarse, stared at Ged's form with reverence and understanding.

"So that is the way to reach the Peak… I am so jealous..."

These were the last words he spoke.

The purple spear completed its descent, annihilating him, body and soul.

On the white sand, not even a corpse remained.

Guul was no more.

***

A gentle breeze stirred, awakening Ged's awareness to the world around him. The touch of soft grass enveloped his ethereal body, flooding him with an indescribable sense of comfort.

The sounds of nature resonated in a soothing rhythm as he rose from the ground.

The world around him was unimaginably lush.

"What is this place?" A cold realization gripped him. "... Don't tell me I'm dead."

Frustration clawed at his chest. He wasn't ready.

So much left undone. Promises unkept. Relationships pushed away. Years wasted chasing perfection, isolating himself in pursuit of an endless goal.

Was it all for nothing?

No. He couldn't accept it. Remembering that he arrived at this place by focusing on the green dot, he didn't believe he died. But everything around him seemed so unreal, his own body felt like it was a ghost.

Where am I?

Steeling himself, he took in his surroundings.

A bizarre expanse of nature was all that filled his vision.

Plants grew around him without end. Some grew across the ground, weaving intricate patterns, while others stretched endlessly skywards.

Despite the dense greenery, nothing grew in the place he was standing. The plants seemed aware of him. As he stepped forward, they naturally parted, making way for his feet.

Ged wrinkled his brow. As he observed the plants, he felt a strange beckoning from them.

A longing to be recognized by him.

It was as if they too felt unsatisfied with their incomplete forms and wished to merge with his to become something closer to reality.

Hunger stirred within Ged. Not for food, but for wholeness. His mouth watered at the illusory plants that surrounded him.

Instinct took over.

He opened his mouth.

The plants surged forward, leaping into him without hesitation.

They flowed into his body effortlessly, merging and restructuring him from the inside.

It was an incredible sensation.

His mouth opened wide as the plants merged into him, reshaping his expanding form.

His consciousness expanded outward, his form growing larger, more defined. The towering trees that once shaded him now seemed like mere blades of grass beneath his feet.

He gazed at his transforming body in awe.

He was getting closer to his ideas of perfection. It was as if the plants knew his desires, molding his form to match his ideal vision.

Powerful physique. Flawless musculature. He had it all.

"The perfect body," Ged whispered, gazing at his ethereal arms, his biceps sculpted to pristine precision. "With these plants… maybe I can finally achieve it."

But as he opened and closed his ethereal hand, doubt crept in.

"No... this isn't real," he muttered, balling his hands into a fist. "It's an illusion. A trick of this place."

Yet something told him he was close. With every inch he grew, his body felt more tangible. Reality itself seemed to draw nearer. If he continued to grow, he felt that he would be able to return.

Sitting cross-legged, he opened his mouth once more.

Nature poured into him.

His form deepened in color, his hair, eyes, and skin pulsing with an unearthly green vitality.

The growth continued.

Within his body, a grassy hill began to take shape. What started as a tiny green speck transformed into a mossy patch of earth, soon expanding into a full-blown hill spanning several kilometers.

Time flowed like a river.

Ged continued to grow. His consciousness became entirely green, his essence fully entwined with nature. His mind hummed with the whispers of the wind, his breath carried the gentle song of the earth.

When he finally opened his eyes, he had transformed.

Tiny vines twisted like veins across his skin, giving him the appearance of a hermit god.

Yet, something was wrong.

He had outgrown most of his surroundings, consuming all the nature within reach.

For the first time since arriving, he felt resistance. The limitless growth had stopped.

His hunger remained, but there was nothing left to consume. For the first time, he looked beyond himself and saw the world around him in its entirety.

An endless green expanse stretched before him, its horizon dotted with colossal structures of various shapes. Some were abstract, while others resembled enlarged versions of everyday objects. If one could imagine it, it existed in some form within this strange world.

His body was quite small in comparison.

Then, something caught his attention.

A towering red mountain.

It surged upward endlessly, its peak always just beyond his sight.

The higher he looked, the more it stretched. It was as if the sky itself was expanding to accommodate it.

Ged's once-perfect form now seemed insignificant, its flaws exposed beneath the mountain's overwhelming presence.

This was true perfection.

Ged's eyes widened in reverence.

"Incredible. These plants, this body, they are all nothing but illusions. That mountain… it's the real thing. There is no other way to explain it."

Unlike the plants or his own ethereal body, the mountain stood immutable. Its crimson surface neither shimmered nor faded. Tangible enough to touch with your hands.

Ged stared in silent awe. The mountain's ascent was relentless, its peak an unreachable beacon of reality. For the first time, he felt small, not in size, but in significance.

He strode toward the base, determined to uncover the mountain's secrets.

Beside the mountain stood a fractal tree, its branches splitting into infinite pathways. Its imposing figure dwarfed Ged, towering hundreds of times his size.

As he passed beneath its limbs, a rustling stirred.

Ged halted, his gaze narrowing as a shadow moved within the depths of the tree.

Silence followed.

Raising an eyebrow, he shook it off and continued towards the mountain.

Then, it leapt.

With a thunderous crash, a golden, scimitar-wielding beaver landed before him.

The earth trembled beneath its weight.

Its menacing glare locked onto Ged.

The blade gleamed in its grasp.

It stood defiantly in his path, daring him to take another step.