The scorpion's massive body finally lay still, pinned beneath the rubble I'd caused with a monstrous crash. Its jagged tails, once deadly weapons, twitched in the last moments of its life. I stood there panting, my legs weak and sore, as the adrenaline slowly began to fade from my system. The cave was filled with the echo of my ragged breathing, but I couldn't help feeling a rush of satisfaction as I realized that the battle was over. My heart pounded as I wiped the sweat from my brow, glancing around the cavern for any sign of the mysterious eye I'd seen earlier. But it was gone, vanished like it had never been there.
I located the raccoon and made my way over to it. I crouched down, stroking his head. "We made it, little guy," I whispered, unsure if I was speaking more to him or myself. The cavern, once full of life-threatening danger, was quiet now, eerily calm. But even as the tension lifted, something in the air felt...off.
[Rewards are being summoned...]
Before I could react further, a scroll materialized in front of me, floating in the air with a soft glow. It unfurled slowly, revealing intricate symbols that seemed to pulse with ancient power. The raccoon stirred in my hands, and a mysterious voice echoed thunderously throughout the cave.
"Offer your blood to the scroll and betstow a name."
I inwardly wondered who this voice belonged to, the system usually appeared through windows with texts and notifications. My heart raced as I reached out, my fingers brushing against the ancient parchment. The moment I touched it, a shiver ran down my spine, and the words on the scroll shimmered in response. I felt a strange pull, almost instinctual, urging me to complete the ritual.
"Your blood," the voice instructed. "And his name."
I hesitated, glancing at the raccoon. This mysterious man must be talking about the Pet Bond but this didn't seem like the time to doubt the mysterious powers I had encountered. I formed a scalpel like attachment on my finger with my shield and made a shallow cut on my palm. I winced as blood welled up, and I let a few drops fall onto the scroll.
The symbols on the scroll flared brightly for a moment, and I felt a connection, a spark of understanding, pass between me and the raccoon.
"And what will you name him?" the voice asked, quiter but with a firmer tone.
I looked at the little creature in my hands. Despite all the chaos, it had stuck by me, its stubbornness, resilience and tendency for chaos reminding me of something—or someone—from a simpler time. "Rigby," I said firmly. "His name is Rigby."
As soon as the name left my lips, the bond snapped into place. A surge of Quar flowed through me, and I could suddenly feel Rigby's presence in a way that was entirely new. It wasn't just an awareness of the raccoon's physical state, but something deeper. I felt his emotions—his curiosity, his cautious trust, his hunger. It was like a small channel had opened between us, a bond that felt like it was growing stronger.
The scroll vanished, and in its place, a raccoon like tattoo appeared on my right forearm. It shimmered for a second, but then shifted out of sight. As soon as the bond seemed complete, a cold gust swept through the cave, and the voice—sharp, biting, and laced with a mocking tone—pierced through the stillness.
"Well that was quite interesting, you even beat it in half the time! Was my prank too much? " The voice echoed, grating in a way that was almost unbearable. It was like nails on a chalkboard, its pitch fluctuating unpredictably, each syllable filled with condescension.
I whipped around, heart pounding. The air shimmered before me, and a translucent figure began to form. Slowly, the being materialized—a tall, lanky man in clothes that looked centuries out of date. His outfit was a mismatched patchwork of what appeared to be formalwear from a bygone era: a heavily embroidered waistcoat with tarnished brass buttons, frilled cuffs that had seen better days, and a pair of knee-high boots worn and cracked with age. His long, unkempt hair was tied back loosely, and his narrow face was framed by a scruffy, uneven beard. His eyes, sharp and mischievous, gleamed with an unsettling mix of amusement and malice.
He looked like a relic, someone who had stepped straight out of an ancient painting—but there was something more. His presence was far from human.
"Who are yo-" I began, my mind scrambling for answers, but he cut me off with an exaggerated groan.
"Oh, come now, don't make me wait for the recognition. It's Loki! You've heard of me, haven't you?" His voice was both playful and unbearably grating, and he flourished his hands with theatrical flair, sending his ragged sleeves fluttering in the air. "The trickster, the deceiver—yadda yadda, you know the rest."
I narrowed my eyes, trying to make sense of it all. Loki wasn't supposed to be real, he was a God from Mythology. He was just a myth, a figure from old stories. And yet, here he was—right in front of me, exuding an air of smug superiority that was impossible to ignore.
"Not that Loki," the spirit said, waving a dismissive hand. "You humans tend to get these things wrong. I'm not some god from your little myths, no, no. I'm from before your time, back when the world was much more... let's say, chaotic." He grinned, flashing a set of crooked teeth. "But I digress."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. "What do you want?"
Loki tilted his head, his smile widening. "Straight to the point! I like that." With a snap of his fingers, a glowing scymbol appeared in the air between us, floating ominously. It was the silhouette of two snakes, intertwined and forming an 'S' like pattern. "I'm here to offer you something, Leo. The Brand of Loki. You've proven yourself worthy of it, after all. A bit slow, yes, but still worthy."
I stared at the symbol, it shimmering with an otherworldly glow. It seemed to pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat, radiating a strange energy that I could almost feel calling out to me.
"What does it do?" I asked cautiously.
Loki's grin widened further, stretching unnaturally across his gaunt face. "Oh, just a few little things. Shape-shifting, illusion control, hypnosis—pretty neat tricks, if I do say so myself. Think of it as my...personal touch." He winked, and it felt less like a gesture of camaraderie and more like a warning. "It would be yours, engraved into your soul, making you much more than you are now."
I clenched my fists, the idea of power tempting for a brief second, but the smirk on Loki's face made my skin crawl. His offer felt like a trap—one of those deals too good to be true, Loki was the 'God of Trickery' after all. "And if I refuse?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
"Oh, no need for dramatics!" Loki laughed, the sound jarring and uncomfortable. "I mean, you could refuse. But why would you? You've come this far, haven't you? I'm sure you've realized things could be far worse outside this Trial Realm." His eyes darted toward Rigby, still nestled in my arms. "Although... I could give it to someone else, maybe your little companion?"
I followed his gaze and felt a surge of protective instinct for the little creature. "No, wait..." I began, but then stopped, thinking it through. Maybe Rigby could use these powers in a way that didn't require me to trust Loki fully and this "Spirit" had just confirmed things like this were happening in the outside world. If I didn't take the brand, maybe my companion could.
Loki's eyebrow arched in surprise, as if reading my thoughts. The thought sending more chills down my spine. "What's this now?" he asked, leaning forward with a sly grin. "You'd rather give the Brand to your pet? That's a first."
I exhaled slowly, standing a little straighter. "Yeah. I want Rigby to have the Brand instead."
The trickster spirit blinked, genuinely taken aback. For a brief moment, the arrogance drained from his expression, replaced by an amused curiosity. "Now that is interesting." He laughed again, this time with genuine delight. "Very well, Leo. You've earned your place as the most peculiar survivor I've met, all beit the only one."
With another dramatic snap of his fingers, the symbol shifted in midair, rearranging itself in a swirl of light. The energy within it changed, becoming sharper, more attuned to Rigby. The glowing swirls began to weave its way toward the raccoon, and Loki's voice, as unbearable as ever, rang out once more.
"Congratulations, Rigby! You are now the proud owner of the Brand of Loki. Enjoy your new gifts—shape-shifting, illusion control, astral projection, the whole package!"
As the light enveloped Rigby, the little raccoon let out a startled squeak, its body glowing with the same eerie radiance. Slowly, I could feel our bond deepen—our connection becoming something far more potent. Rigby's awareness sharpened, and it was as if I could sense a new intelligence behind his eyes.
He blinked up at me, and then, in a display of his newfound powers, his form began to shift. Rigby's body flickered and transformed, his small frame elongating into something else—something entirely different. For a brief moment, he became a larger, shadowy wolf, his fur white and rippling with illusionary magic before reverting back to his raccoon form.
I couldn't help but laugh out of amazement, the tension easing just slightly. "Looks like you've got some tricks now, huh?"
Rigby chittered, seemingly proud of himself.
Loki, still floating in his ghostly form, clapped his hands slowly. "Bravo, Leo. Bravo. I must say, this has been far more entertaining than I expected. Rigby here is now my little ambassador of chaos. Take care of him—and of yourself. The world's going to get a lot more...interesting from here on out."
The spirit's image began to fade, his figure dissipating into the air like smoke. But just before he vanished completely, his voice cut through once more, that unbearable tone lingering. "I'll be watching Rigby closely, Leo. Don't disappoint."
With Loki gone, the cave fell silent once more, leaving me and Rigby alone in the aftermath of the chaos. I looked down at my companion, feeling the new bond between us—stronger now, filled with potential. Whatever came next, I knew we'd face it together, after all we had a soul bond and a trickster spirit's blessing.
"Alright, Rigby," I said with a grin, dusting off my pants. "How the hell do you think we get out of here?"
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