Ivis

Their journey is long and challenging.

Mostly because Churro doesn't shut up for longer than a second. If that.

Which wouldn't be so bad...

If he wasn't more annoying than he thought. 

Technically not him, but it technically is.

Upon further discussion, there isn't much difference between them.

Besides the obvious stuff like one was kidnapped at six and the other one wasn't.

His parents are alive and well for one --and his probably are, not that he'd know-- apparently a little overbearing, but doing good.

It's nice to hear.

They might not be his parents, but they're still...his parents. 

If that makes sense.

Probably only does to him, but hey, at least it makes sense to him.

God, his thoughts are a jumbled mess.

But he supposes that's what happens when you get hit with back-to-back information dumps from another you, because the multiverse is completely real unlike what most people including Abbadon have said in their 'infinite wisdom', as well an infinite-sized dimension inside of his brain that also functions as a portal. 'Cause of course that makes sense.

Well actually it does.

That was mostly just for dramatic effect.

"Besides the whole...cult stuff, is there anything else I should know about Ivis?"

"Uhh...well, he's kind of mentally insane, and not in the like 'I'm going to recite a bunch of villainous monologues at you', but more 'I'm gonna rip your heart out and not think twice about it' kind of way."

"And you're just now deciding to tell me this?"

Churro shrugs.

"Well- I told you he was sacrificing people and you still wanted to go and meet him, so I figured it wouldn't make much of a difference."

Touché.

"You might have a point."

"Might?"

"Don't push it."

His grin doesn't go unnoticed.

Churro jabs his finger towards him with a smile of his own.

"You're totally enjoying this, aren't you?"

"...Nope."

"Nah, nah, nah, look at that lil' grin, you're having the time of your life, aren't you?"

They pass by a much older and grumpy-looking version of themselves.

"Definitely not gonna be me," their thoughts align for a moment.

Then immediately begin to bicker once more.

"Nobody is grinning-- if anything, you're grinning."

"How am I grinning if nobody is grinning? That doesn't even make any sense."

"Because you're a nobody." He walked right into that one.

"Is this seriously what I'm like? There's no way I'm this stupid and annoying."

Sylus wonders the same thing.

"Anyway-- we should be there soon."

"Okay. But wait, we couldn't have come up with a better way to get around than just...walking?"

"Well, I mean we could've." 

"Okay...then why didn't we?"

"'Cause I didn't think of it. If you wanted to, then why didn't you do it ages ago?"

"...Cause I didn't think of it either?"

"Exactly. That's what I thought."

The minutes go by in a blur of conversation filled with childish humor and antics.

"So, uh, how long till we get there?"

"Soon."

"How long is soon?"

Churro groans loudly, not shying away from displaying his tendency of being quick to frustration. "We serious?"

In turn, Sylus doesn't bother hiding his grin (and obvious amusement) this time. "I'm so serious."

"Sigh..."

"Did you seriously just say 'sigh' out loud instead of just sighting?"

They reverse a decently large hill, of which he can only hope shall bring them closer to their destination. Ivis' camp

"What-- do you guys not do that?"

"No, we just-" He sighs, then continues "-We do that, we sigh, we don't say the word out loud. That's stupid."

"...That's dumber than just saying the word."

"I'm ignoring you."

"Whatever."

Climbing over the hill --a little winded, but otherwise okay-- they're greeted with the sight of their destination.

Ivis mansion, visual representation of the unsettling chaos that's become normalized. 

It's design is all over the place.

Half modern, half classical, and the rest he's unable to describe with his limited set of known words.

"We're here. If you couldn't already tell."

"What in the world is this place?"

"Are you judging? I feel like you're judging right now."

"I'm definitely judging-- this place looks disfigured."

Churro rubs his nape, a little embarrassed. "Yeah. When all of us got together, we ended up creating this place --long before Ivis got his grimy little hands on it-- and, since none of us could agree on one thing, we let our imaginations run wild and this is the result." 

Huh.

"Now I feel bad for insulting it."

Can't be helped now though.

"So, should we just...walk up and knock on the door?"

"Nah, they got like, security measures. Get too close without permission and you'll get blown up."

His eyes widen, practically bulging out of their sockets. "Wait- wait for real? You're not joking?"

Churro snickers, barely able to contain his laugher that threatens to force its way out. "Of course not, that'd be stupid."

"Why am I not surprised."

"I don't know-- your fault for believing everything I say."

"...But if I hit you, I'd be in the wrong."

Churro backs away, raising his hands up defensively. "Whoa now, no need to get violent."

"Of course not, that'd be stupid."

"Real mature..." 

Sylus shrugs, walking forward. "Let's go already, we still got a ways to go."

His feet ache.

He tends to waddle a bit, reminiscent of a baby penguin.

It's been...here we go...a decade since he last walked this much.

And while yes, it's exhilarating, it's also quite exhausting.

"How do people do this all of the time?" Rhetorical question. The answer is obvious. Because they've had practice over the years.

Something he...obviously...hasn't received.

As they draw near, the light begins to dim.

The sky darkens and the stars shy away from view.

"Is that supposed to happen?" 

"Just keep moving," says Churro-- in a more rough voice than usual.

"You good?"

He looks over. 

His neutral expression falls, replaced by one of worry. "Not really. I'm trying to tell you-- Ivis isn't the man you want to meet. You might think he is, but I say to you, he's truly not."

"I get that, but shouldn't I at least give things a try? Especially after how far we traveled to get here?"

Churro doesn't look pleased with his answer.

Not that Sylus expects him to be.

There's no doubt in his mind that Ivis is a terrible person.

But at the same time, he also appears to be the only one here actively working towards getting them home.

Even if that means human sacrifices.

Because in a way, is he not essentially sacrificing his loved ones to Abbadon, by not trying to get back to them as quickly as possible?

His logic isn't perfect.

Nothing ever is.

But it makes sense to him. And that's all that matters.

So yes, he's walking straight into the devil's lair.

Fully knowing it could cost him his life.

Better than sitting back and doing nothing.

Letting someone else take the role that, although he'd been forced into, he's accepted for upwards of six years now.

No way he subjects someone to that same fate. At least, not when he can help it.

The newer kids...those who are still around...have lived privileged lives in comparison. 

And that's fine.

"I prefer it that way." Let them be kids while the opportunity is still there.

Each step he takes solidifies his decision further.

Churro trails behind him, barely able to keep up with his quickened pace.

"Wait-" he calls out, but receives no answer in response.

His determination pulls him forward.

The air around them grows thick.

Nothing they can't handle.

More versions of themselves begin to show their faces.

Each one more unsettling than the last.

Skin hanging off the bones.

If they even have that much.

Eyes dilated. 

Fingers itching for something. He's not quite sure what.

Knees buckling, as if barely capable of holding themselves up.

Wait a sec-- is that a girl version of him?

Well, then again...infinite multiverse. 

Still uncanny though.

One walks up.

His fists hang by his sides, ready for any problem should one arise. "What are you doing here, Churro? You're fully aware you aren't welcome here."

Uhh...

Is this guy supposed to be like, intimidating or something?

First of all-- he's like, five-foot-four. 

The same height as his mother.

And secondly, could he get more basic with this...surface-level villain dialogue?

Churro doesn't seem all that fazed either. Though, he can't help but wonder-- what is the history between them?

All of them, for that matter?

If there's enough time, he'll ask when things settle down.

"Listen, we just want to get through to talk to Ivis."

That immediately strikes a nerve. "You of all people should know that you don't just...walk up and talk to Ivis. The most important man in this and every dimension."

"Yeesh...how much longer am I gonna have to listen to this guy go on and on about his crush for this Ivis guy?" thinks Sylus, rolling his eyes-- cringing from second-hand embarrassment.

Sylus steps forward, placing his palm between them. "We don't mean any harm, we just want to have a chat with him about some things."

The man gives him a dirty look, clearly displeased with his interjection. "And who are you supposed to be?"

Eugh...

"Sylus. I'm new here, and just trying to get back to my world."

The wannabe supervillain's eyes narrow into something he's not quite sure of. Intrigue, maybe?

"Come with me. You might have something Ivis is interested in, after all."

He starts walking towards the now opening gate leading into the mansion.

"Uh- that was quick?" 

"And not in a good way," Churro says grimly. "Something's wrong. I don't know what's going on, but I highly doubt either of us are going to like it."

"I thought we already knew that before we even got here?" 

He shrugs. 

"I guess so."

They quickly begin following after him, not wanting to get locked out. 

As the gate begins closing again.

Shutting behind them. With no intentions of opening again.

His eyes wander. Perplexed as to how something like this could remain for so long.

Whilst scoping the area out, he finds it nearly impossible to look in any direction for more than a few seconds without finding yet another, soulless, mindless drone wearing his face.

Or at least, in some cases, half of his face.

They stare blankly.

Likely without any thoughts inside their heads.

And from what he knows about Ivis, he probably prefers it that way.

"When we get there, make sure you bow before speaking," says the man clearly in love with Ivis.

"Okay-- are we serious? There's no way you're being serious right now."

The eyes of Ivis' hype-man narrow into a cold, but stupid-looking, stare. "I'm deadly serious."

Wow.

These guys really don't play about Ivis.

If he didn't know any better, he'd assume they were all in one big polyamorous relationship.

Part of him sill does.

And its not ridiculous to say that.

Like seriously-- how tight of a grip does he have on them that they start acting like girlfriends to try and 'defend' his honor at a moments notice?

Judging by the guy walking ahead of them --president of the Ivis fan-club-- its probably a lot tighter than the average cult-leader.

So he assumes.

The hallways are beginning to end.

And just up ahead, a metal door awaits their arrival.

There's no doubt Ivis is lurking behind it.

One step.

Two steps.

Then three, four, five, and so on.

He stops counting after reaching seven.

Soon...

They arrive.

"Remember what I said about bowing."

"Yeah, yeah..."

He can't help but feel a little nervous.

Who wouldn't be?

This place and its people are insane.

And no doubt things will only get worse from here on out.

The door slowly creaks open.

By itself.

Not creepy at all-- right?

Sylus steps up, peeking his head inside.

And there he is.

Ivis sits atop a throne made of gold, his eyes glued to the door.

Unblinking.

He rests his chin on the palms of his hands.

"My liege," the president of his fan-club throws himself onto the floor, bowing as they all enter.

Neither bows.

That privilege is restricted to God.

Ivis leans forward.

"It's good to see you again after our last encounter, Churro."

He turns to Sylus.

Smiling with an odd --or rather unexpected-- warmth.

"And you must be Sylus."

Okay.

How does this guy already know his name?

Has he been spying on them this entire time?

He might be more dangerous than he originally gave him credit for.

Churro gives him a look that says 'I told you so.' Typical.

"Yeah...that's me...listen, I just wanted to talk to you about-" "Getting home, correct?"

Sylus gulps loudly.

There's a shift in the air.

It's weird.

Suffocating, almost.

Breathing is nearly impossible.

He tries hard.

But just cant no matter how hard he pushes himself.

"I know what you're here for. Trust me, I've met plenty of your type over the course of my --temporary-- stay here. It's always the same motivation, the same goals, the same life, all of it. There's never any surprise, not when you're able to connect the dots that seem to be stuck in a never-ending loop."

Sylus walks up.

His fists clenched.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Ivis' eyebrows raise.

"Oh?" he sounds genuinely intrigued.

Surprised, even.

"Do tell-- but you only have so long before your times up."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a brief period of time --about three hours, maybe less depending on the person-- after entering your Mind-Scape for the very first time, its possible to be puled out of it by an outside source. If you have one, that is. And by my estimates, you've already spent nearly two hours of your time."

So there's a chance.

He knew it.

His chances might be slim...

But never zero.

Hope has a chance to win out.

He just needs someone --anyone-- to wake him up from this nightmare.

And if not...

He'll just do it himself.

"Go on."

"Have you not already given me what I came here for?"

Ivis laughs.

"When was this exchange about what you wanted-- about what you're looking for?"

"Ever since I walked in this room."

Ivis is barely capable of containing his excitement.

His mind itches for the next piece of dialogue.

It's been a long time since someone has spoken to him in s way.

And even longer that he's been looked at without a hint of fear in their eyes.

He's near perfect.

But let's see how well he keeps up.

As well if there's a chance of him waking up.

That too is important.

Karvel --fan club guy-- raises up, prepared to strike him for his callous words but is quickly shut down with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Sylus needs to be kept.

And preferably alive.

Though, things can change if necessary. It might be unfortunate, but never out of the question.

"You speak without any care for your surroundings, as if --maybe-- believing yourself incapable of dealing with consequences."

Sylus doesn't budge at his thinly-veiled threat.

"Or maybe I just won't take being spoken to any kind of way, not by some alternative version of me that's a cult-leader, or really anyone else."

Bold.

"I deal with someone just like you all of the time back home-- you might have them," He points to Karvel in specific, then continues saying "--wrapped around your finger, but that's never happening with me."

"What makes you believe that you're different than any other?" asks Ivis.

"Other than your inability to read a room."

He's fishing for something.

It doesn't take very long for things to click in his brain.

Information.

Details about his life.

Same thing, really.

He'd been subtle. 

Careful not to ask too much or too little, to not be too disinterested, and not too interested.

But his mask is slipping. He's slipping. 

But what for, is still unknown to him. For now.

He looks to Churro.

He's silent, unwilling to speak in the presence of Ivis. 

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who 'supposedly' knows so much already."

"It's always nice to be able to confirm a suspicion rather than make an assumption, do you not agree?"

He gestures indiscriminately to his question. "I guess so."

Their conversation begins stagnating.

Sylus refusing to answer any of his targeted questions, and Ivis continuing to push despite the many rejections.

Enough of the back-and-forth.

It's pastime to address things head-on rather than pretending like they don't exist, or he doesn't notice.

"What is this-- huh? What are we doing here right now, or better yet, what do you want, Ivis?"

Ivis lets the confusion on his face serve as a reply.

"You're some big-shot cult leader, and all you're doing is asking surface level questions about what someone that you already aware the details of, according to yourself, of course."

"Did my answer not suffice?"

"Not really."

"You're stalling," he says, emphasizing the last word.

Churro perks up, a light-bulb shining above his head. 

He's not just stalling.

No.

That'd be simple.

And Ivis doesn't do simple. He's much too 'elegant' for that.

"He's stalling until your window is either closed, or something comes of it."

"You're a lot smarter than I originally gave you credit for-- both of you are."

"So let me ask again-- what do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Their surroundings instantly begin to shift.

Contort.

The lights change, flickering between hundreds of different colors in seconds. 

Enough to give even the strongest of animals coma-inducing seizures.

The walls close in.

No longer bound by the confinements of basic logic.

Karvel's body warps into an unrecognizable beast, its large, clawed hands gripping both Sylus and Churro in an instant.

"I wanna be you."

Okay.

So this might've been a stupid idea.

Not that he'd say that out loud and give Churro any ammunition.

Besides-- who could've expected such a complete tonal shift?

...Churro.

Definitely him.

"I was going to conversate and try to get an understanding of what I might be getting myself into, but..." He sighs, disappointed. "You're leaving me no choice but to escalate things earlier than intended."

"I told you this would happen," grumbles Churro.

"Alright dude, we get it-- now isn't the time."

"It is when I'd already warned you he was psycho beforehand."

He struggles against Karvel's iron-grip, but is unable to escape. "What's the point of doing this? Why are you doing this to us? To me? Why do you wanna be me? What's so special about me?"

"You're taking this far too personally, Sylus. There's nothing particularly special-- from what I know about you-- about you. You're not all that smart or courageous, not witty or funny, nor athletic and strong."

"Had it been anyone else, I would've done the same things and moved the same way. I want to say this one last time so you can understand me-- you're not special. This isn't about you."

Ouch.

He'd be lying if he said his words didn't bother him --maybe even hurt him, but just a little though-- however, Sylus isn't willing to let that show.

Not even for a second.

Sylus swallows his wounded pride and quickly regains his composure.

"You still haven't answered my other question-- why? Why?"

Ivis laughs.

And brazenly so.

"What do you want me to say? My mommy and daddy weren't at my birth, and now I'm sad? I lived a normal life. Just like all of you."

Well...

Not all of them. 

"I'm hardly some pathetic psychopath as many have tried saying-- I just refuse to be stuck inside of a dimension where my only companions are...worthless, insignificant versions of myself."

In his eyes, Sylus sees something.

A piece of himself.

That same rage and frustration he too carries.

For similar yet glaringly different reasons.

Sylus reaches out.

Not with his hands but his very being.

"Ivis, listen to me." He starts off with a pleading voice, grabbing both Churro and Ivis' attention.

"I get it, alright? Better than anyone else in the multiverse could-- but this isn't the way. It might sound cliche, and probably is, but its true, alright?"

Ivis' features soften.

He listens.

Earnestly too.

"I've endured it all-- you name it, I've been through it. And I've still come out better than most would in my position. Not because I'm special or anything, but 'cause I've put in the work."

"Let us go, alright? Help us-- all of us-- get out of here, together."

Ivis slowly inches toward him.

Eyes glistening with hope.

"...Do you really mean it?"

"I mean it."

"Are you serious?"

Uhh... "Yes, I'm serious."

"Are you seriously this naive?"

Sylus blinks.

He's split down the middle.

Half surprised and the other half not so much.

But why couldn't it have gone down the way he was hoping it might?

Why do they always have to do this?

Maybe it's just human nature.

Or maybe some people are just too far gone.

Yet another man he must vow not to become.

That list never seems to stop growing.

Churro was right.

He never should've come here.

"Did you honestly believe giving me some crappy pep-talk was going to stop me? That hearing some pretty words would stop me from doing what I want to do?"

There's no positive ending to this.

Regardless of what he does from here on out, he'll be playing right into Ivis' hands.

"Thought I knew better."

"And clearly, I did not."

Not even a little bit.

Yet Churro has remained by his side the entire time.

A better man than him.

"I'm not sure if naive even scratches the surface of such moronic thinking. Perhaps blending-in will be more difficult than I thought. My brain is already hurting."

Uncalled for.

But true.

Unfortunately.

"And how do you plan on doing that? For someone who talks such a big game, you've yet to prove you've accomplished any of what you continue saying you already have."

Churro makes a good point.

And finally, one has been made without it being an insult directed towards him.

Anyway-- what makes him so sure?

So confident that this time is his lucky day?

"We worked tirelessly--"

"You mean your slaves have worked tirelessly," Churro is quick to correct him.

"Same thing really-- but honestly, I don't feel like exposing how its done, nor my grand-plan. Sounds counter-productive and unintelligent, no?"

Smart. And frustratingly so.

"I' almost sad that this has to happen. I'm sure you have friends and family back in your universe who love you very deeply."

"If you know all of this, you know there's people waiting for me back home, who love and care about me, then how can you look me in the eyes and still go through with this? Still try and condemn me to death for your own selfish goals?"

Ivis pushes off his throne.

He slowly walks down.

He stops when just in front of Sylus.

Their faces a hair from touching.

Eyes locked.

"I want to look you in the eyes when I say this."

"I'm going through with my plan, regardless of how many people might be waiting for you. No matter how many people love you, believe in you, admire and look up to you. Because I don't. And right now, I'm the only person that has control over what does or doesn't happen to you."

Any idea or thought of getting through to him shatters into a million pieces.

Maybe it should've already.

He can understand that line of thinking.

"But I couldn't." Not then.

Though, things have changed.

Frustration flares up inside of him.

How can it not?

Ivis is trying to take everything-- what little he has left.

His friends, his girlfriend, his life. 

All with that grin. 

Fully knowing what he's doing is wrong, immoral, and yet choosing to do it anyway.

And its past time that he pushes back. For real this time.

"There's only one way to put a guaranteed end to this."

He hesitates.

As if saying the words might cause this world to collapse.

"Ivis has to die."

His throat burns.

Like he'd just ingested acid, at the mere thought of taking a life.

It's not like he wants to.

Wasn't even his first thought. 

Though, he has considered doing so a few times when it comes to Abbadon.

Not that Sylus would ever try.

But does he really have a choice?

Is some magical solution to all of his problems going to fall in his lap, or is he going to have to make the hard choice regardless of how he feels about it?

The answer is obvious.

Hell, it's at him in the face and refusing to blink.

Ivis must die.

No matter what he wants.

Because Ivis was right about one thing.

It's not about him, but instead everyone else.

His friends back home.

Rue.

Churro.

And those under his thumb, or who will be in the future.

Sylus swallows hard.

Deep breaths in.

He slowly wiggles himself between the cracks in Karvel's hand.

"Just a little more."

He's not sure how it's going to be done.

'Murder' has never been something he's ever done, or gave an effort into trying to do.

But as Abbadon has always said, he's a quick study.

His fists clench.

Ivis turns away.

Walking off. And still. Smiling. Still.

Even after everything he's said.

What he's going to do.

He still has the nerve --the gall-- to smile like nothing's happening. Like nothing's wrong.

A knife slithers its way into his hand.

Born from his imagination.

Something he's neglected up until now. Incapable of utilizing it when clouded with so much doubt and uncertainty. 

However.

If he goes through with this...

There'll be no turning back.

Is he worth it?

No.

That's the wrong thing to ask.

But rather-- is Ivis' life worth more than those he has taken? More than the one's Ivis plans to take, including his own?

He doesn't hesitate to respond.

Ivis' life isn't worth everything he's trying to tear down.

Sylus jams his blade into the monetarized Karvel's hand without a second thought.

It screams.

Louder than he first assumed.

But it's grip loosens, allowing for him and Churro to escape.

And that's all that matters.

Right?

Yes.

Obviously yes.

This is the right thing to do. 

It has to be.

Ivis whips around. 

His smile faltering.

Finally.

But that's not good enough.

Sylus lunges toward him, against the shouts of Churro.

He tries to tell him to stop.

To not do this.

Yet his words are ignored.

In one swift motion, Sylus jabs his knife through Ivis' chest.

Rage pumps through his veins like a drug.

It blinds him.

Consumes him.

Enough to blur not just the lines, but his vision. His mind.

Until he can no longer tell the difference.

Ivis flashes between himself and Abbadon in the eyes of his attacker.

And right now, is there much of a difference?

Hardly.

He slowly pulls the blade out.

Listening to every pained sound coming from Ivis' mouth.

He doesn't beg nor plead.

It's not Ivis' style.

But he should beg and plead. Abbadon should beg and plead. 

He rams it in again. Then pulls it out and does it again. Then again and again.

Churro runs up whilst trying to catch his breath from being essentially strangled by Karvel's hand for who knows how long.

He grabs Sylus' arm, forcing him to stop.

But by then, it's too late.

Ivis is dead.

Laying in a pool of his own blood.

His breathing is ragged. 

Unfocused, uncontrolled.

He takes a deep breath in, and then out.

"What did you do?" Churro asks-- his eyes wide, and his body shaking.

Not in fear.

But something else.

Worry, maybe.

"I.." 

He's not sure what to say. Or rather, how to say it. 

Understandable, he supposes.

Tears swell up in his eyelids.

He's not sure why they're coming.

Only that they are.

And he can't cry. Not in front of Churro, not after what he just did.

He holds them back to the best of his abilities and says, "I did what I had to do...right?"

His hands and clothing covered in blood.

Ivis' blood. 

His own blood.

So then...

What now?