Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 92: BETRAYAL BETWEEN

Chapter 92: BETRAYAL BETWEEN

The vast Watcher hung over the Nine Domains like a cosmic wound, its presence distorting reality in waves that rippled outward from its incomprehensible form. Beneath this ominous sky, the allied forces of humans and evolved goblins fought with desperate valor against mathematical aberrations that poured from dimensional tears.

Within the Central Command Chamber of the First Domain’s mountain fortress, Lania’s hands trembled as she manipulated the control sigils. Blood vessels had burst in both her eyes, painting her sclera crimson. Twenty-six hours of uninterrupted consciousness had taken its toll, yet she refused relief.

"The outer defenses in the Third Domain have collapsed," reported a communications officer, his voice hollow with exhaustion. "The reality anchor there is destabilizing."

Queen Merelith paced the chamber, her ornate armor now dented and stained with fluids that defied classification. "Can we redistribute power from the other anchors to compensate?"

"Not without weakening the entire network," Lania replied, her fingers dancing across the sigil matrix. "Each anchor is already operating beyond designed parameters."

In the corner of the chamber, Varkath—now barely recognizable as the goblin general he once was—suddenly convulsed. The crystalline structures that had replaced much of his flesh pulsed with disharmonious light as his consciousness interfaced with the dimensional battlefield.

"Something... shifting," he rasped, his voice carrying undertones that made nearby glass resonate. "The Voice... it moves differently now."

Lania’s attention snapped to the evolved goblin. Throughout the battle, the Voice Between had provided crucial assistance against the Watchers, its entropic forces disrupting the invaders’ mathematical precision. This unexpected alliance had turned the tide in several critical engagements.

"Different how?" she demanded.

Varkath’s answer was cut short as the chamber’s central scrying pool erupted in a fountain of liquid light. The viscous substance hung suspended in midair, forming complex patterns that resolved into a three-dimensional image of Reed Harrow—or what remained of him.

His form flickered between states of solidity, transparency, and pure mathematical notation. Only his eyes remained consistently human, burning with fierce determination amid the chaos of his transforming flesh.

"Lania," Reed’s voice emerged distorted, each syllable overlapping with mathematical equations that manifested as visible symbols in the air. "The Voice... betrays us."

The transmission destabilized, Reed’s image dissolving into fragments before reconstituting. "It waits... for the critical moment... when our defenses and the Watchers... are perfectly balanced against each other."

The chamber’s temperature plummeted as Reed’s next words emerged: "It needs both weakened... to consume us all."

In the dimensional space between realities, Reed Harrow struggled to maintain the communication link with his home dimension. The quantum mathematics required to pierce the Watcher’s interference threatened to consume what remained of his organic brain.

Beside him, Shia—once his human companion, now transformed into something that existed in multiple states simultaneously—focused her consciousness to stabilize the transmission. Her body had evolved differently than Reed’s; where he had become living mathematics, she had become a nexus of dimensional possibilities, each one visible as a ghostly overlay upon her original form.

"They’re severing the connection," she warned, her voice echoing from multiple temporal positions. "The Voice Between has detected our transmission."

Around them, the non-space that served as their refuge trembled. What had once been a pocket dimension of relative safety now contracted as external forces pressed inward. The Voice Between, having maintained the pretense of alliance, now showed its true nature.

"We need to reach the consciousness weapon," Reed said, his fragmented body already moving through mathematical space rather than physical distance. "Before the Voice seizes control."

Shia’s multiple forms coalesced into a single entity as she followed. "The expedition members—some of them have been compromised. I’ve felt their minds changing."

Reed’s expression hardened. The "expedition members" were those who had volunteered to undergo partial transformation, allowing them to exist within the dimensional boundaries and assist in the construction of the consciousness weapon—a device designed to disrupt the Watchers’ hive mind.

"How many?" he asked.

"At least three," Shia replied. "Possibly more. Their thought patterns... altered. Subtle at first, but accelerating."

They reached a junction where mathematical space folded in on itself, creating a nexus that served as the workshop for Reed’s ultimate weapon. The structure—impossible to describe in conventional terms—existed as both a physical device and a set of interlocking equations that, when activated, would ripple through dimensional space, temporarily paralyzing conscious thought at the scale of the Watchers.

But the workshop was not as they had left it.

Three figures stood around the consciousness weapon, their bodies partially transformed like Reed’s and Shia’s, but with a crucial difference. Where Reed’s transformations glowed with blue-white mathematical precision, these figures pulsed with chaotic polychromatic energies—the unmistakable signature of the Voice Between’s influence.

"Keller. Azmarin. Vashtri." Reed named them, each word laden with disappointment rather than anger. "Step away from the device."

Dr. Keller—once Reed’s most brilliant student—turned with a movement that seemed to occur across multiple instances of time simultaneously. Her eyes, once keen with scientific curiosity, now swirled with fractured realities.

"Professor Harrow," she said, her voice reverberating with harmonics that suggested multiple speakers. "The Voice has shown us the truth. Your plan will fail. The Watchers cannot be defeated—only replaced."

"Replaced by what?" Shia demanded, her forms once again splitting into multiple overlapping versions that positioned themselves strategically around the room. "Another predator?"

Azmarin—a theoretical physicist whose body now appeared more like a living diagram than a person—stepped forward. "The Voice Between offers synthesis, not consumption. It has evolved beyond the binary existence of the Watchers."

"It lies," Reed stated flatly. "I’ve seen its true form."

With a motion too fast for conventional perception, Reed collapsed a section of mathematical space, creating a viewing window into another layer of reality. Through this aperture appeared a sight that defied sanity: a vast, writhing dimension that resembled nothing so much as a parasitic organism, its pseudopods extending across countless realities, drawing them inward toward a pulsing central mass.

"That is the Voice Between," Reed declared. "Not an entity, but a parasitic dimension that consumes other dimensional entities. It doesn’t want to help us—it’s waiting for us to weaken the Watchers enough that it can devour both them and us."

The corrupted expedition members reacted with varying degrees of shock and denial. Vashtri—the neurologist—stepped back from the consciousness weapon, doubt flickering across her transformed features.

Keller remained unmoved. "Necessary evolution," she insisted, her voice now completely overtaken by the Voice Between’s influence. "All realities must be synthesized eventually. The multiversal entropy demands it."

Reed sensed the shift in Vashtri’s resolve and pressed his advantage. "The Voice doesn’t synthesize—it consumes. Your consciousness is already being digested, Keller. How much of your original mind remains?"

The question struck home. For a brief moment, Keller’s features cleared, horror dawning as she recognized her predicament. But the moment passed quickly as the Voice Between reasserted control.

"Enough talk," she hissed, multiple voices now speaking in discordant unison. "The weapon will be ours."

In the mountain fortress, Lania watched in horror as the control sigils for the consciousness weapon flared with conflicting commands. Reed’s transmission had fragmented, but enough had come through to understand the dire situation.

"The Voice Between is making its move," she announced to the war council. "It’s attempting to seize control of Reed’s weapon."

Queen Merelith’s face hardened. "Can we sever the connection from our end?"

"Not without losing Reed and the others," Lania replied. "And not without sacrificing our best hope against the Watchers."

Across the chamber, several military officers suddenly stiffened, their eyes glazing over with the same polychromatic swirl that had infected the expedition members. The Voice Between’s influence had spread further than anyone had realized.

"Treachery!" shouted Commander Drayven, drawing his sword as two of his fellow officers lunged toward the control sigils with inhuman speed. "The Voice has agents here!"

Chaos erupted as loyal forces clashed with the corrupted. The confined space of the command chamber became a brutal battlefield where conventional weapons met dimensional abilities. An infected lieutenant phased his hand through a guard’s chest, solidifying it inside the man’s heart before ripping outward in a spray of gore and mathematical equations.

Varkath roared, his crystalline protrusions extending into weapons as he engaged three corrupted soldiers simultaneously. Where his crystal blades touched the infected, they severed the Voice Between’s influence, momentarily restoring clarity to the victims before their bodies collapsed, unable to sustain themselves without the parasitic energy.

In the dimensional workshop, Reed and Shia fought a desperate battle against their former colleagues. The conflict transcended physical combat—it was warfare conducted across mathematical principles, reality itself becoming both weapon and battlefield.

Keller manipulated the fabric of the workshop, creating dimensional traps that would reduce any caught within to constituent equations. Azmarin generated fields of altered physics where molecular bonds weakened, threatening to dissolve Reed’s remaining organic components.

Reed countered with precise mathematical constructs that shielded himself and Shia while simultaneously reaching for the consciousness weapon. The device, responding to his quantum signature, began to activate—complex geometries spinning up through dimensions beyond conventional perception.

"We need a direct mental link!" Reed called to Shia as he ducked beneath a stream of corrupted mathematics that would have erased his consciousness. "Like we practiced!"

Shia’s multiple forms converged as she fought her way toward Reed. When they connected—her hand passing partially through his transformed arm—their minds synchronized instantly, creating a mental architecture too complex for the Voice Between to corrupt quickly.

Through this connection, they coordinated perfectly despite being physically separated by the chaotic battle. Reed feinted toward the weapon while Shia created a diversion, drawing the corrupted expedition members’ attention. When Keller and Azmarin moved to intercept Shia, Reed slipped through a fold in mathematical space and reached the device.

"No!" screamed Keller, her voice now completely subsumed by the Voice Between. "You cannot deny the inevitable synthesis!"

Reed’s hands—now more equation than flesh—interfaced with the consciousness weapon. "It’s not synthesis," he corrected grimly. "It’s consumption. And we refuse to be consumed."

The weapon hummed to life, its dimensional frequencies resonating with both the Watchers’ hive mind and the Voice Between’s parasitic consciousness. As the device powered up, Reed revealed his contingency plan—a secondary function built into the weapon’s core.

"You thought we were building this only for the Watchers," he told the corrupted expedition members as the weapon’s light engulfed the workshop. "But I’ve planned for betrayal from the beginning."

The consciousness weapon discharged, sending a pulse of anti-dimensional energy outward in all directions. Unlike its primary function, which would have disrupted only the Watchers’ consciousness, this contingency measure temporarily neutralized all dimensional energies—including those that sustained the Voice Between’s influence.

Throughout the Nine Domains, reality anchors went momentarily dark. Dimensional tears stabilized, neither closing nor expanding. The massive Watcher hovering above the world froze in place, its consciousness temporarily severed from its manifestation.

And the Voice Between’s parasitic tendrils, suddenly visible across all dimensions, convulsed in what might have been agony.

In the mountain fortress, the corrupted officers collapsed as the Voice Between’s influence dissipated. Lania, blood now streaming from her ears from the dimensional backlash, staggered to the control sigils and attempted to reestablish contact with Reed.

"What’s happening?" demanded Queen Merelith, supporting herself against a pillar as reality around them stabilized into an unnatural stillness.

"Reed activated the contingency," Lania explained, her voice barely audible over the ringing in her ears. "He’s temporarily neutralized all dimensional energies."

"For how long?"

"Minutes at most," Lania replied. "But it’s bought us time to—"

Her words cut off as the scrying pool flickered back to life. Reed’s image appeared, more stable than before, though still fluctuating between states of being.

"Lania," he said urgently. "The contingency won’t hold. When dimensional energies return, both the Watcher and the Voice will retaliate with everything they have."

"What do we do?" she asked, desperation evident in her voice.

"There’s one option left," Reed replied, his image beginning to destabilize again as the neutralization effect weakened. "But it requires a sacrifice."

Before he could elaborate, the image dissolved completely. In its place appeared a sight that froze the blood of everyone present: the true form of the Voice Between, fully revealed for the first time.

It wasn’t merely a parasitic dimension as Reed had described. It was a vast, conscious vortex composed of countless consumed realities, each one still partially intact but distorted, their inhabitants preserved in a state of eternal agony as they were slowly digested into the Voice’s expanding consciousness.

And at the vortex’s center, visible for just a moment before the scrying pool went dark, was a figure they all recognized—seemingly untouched by the surrounding horror, directing the Voice’s actions with calculated precision.

High Priestess Shavia smiled serenely from the heart of the abomination.

"She was never possessed," whispered Lania in horror. "She was always its avatar."