Nephthys floated before doors no less ostentatious than the audience hall. They were made of pure crashglass, the red crystal shards broken from the Veilpiercer during its 'landing.' The material was unbelievably expensive everywhere except here in the Crater, its birthplace.
They were polished, smooth, reflective, and Nephthys was jarred for a moment by her own image, floating and foreign. She was not sure she would ever get used to seeing her new body, no matter how much she liked it conceptually. She shook the dismorphia away and pushed the doors open.
Inside was a wide hall that glowed a deep red, crimson, like blood. There were no lights in the hall, the glow cast from the opening fifty-or-so feet ahead. Nephthys knew exactly where she was going, obviously, but the sight was eerie in real life. Ironic, since that was her intention when she created it.
One of the central features of guilds in Prelude was the ability to bind the entire organization to a god or goddess. Once chosen, specific bonuses would be gained based on the chosen god's domain. There were several to choose from, and each provided significant bonuses that, in PvP, where every single advantage mattered, could change a guild's fortunes.
Nemesis was no exception, choosing a god and creating the necessary infrastructure. However, Nemesis was all about dominating and flexing that domination, so Nephthys's chosen deity was unique among the guilds.
She had chosen to build the Altar of Truth specifically because it conferred no bonuses. This meant that Nephthys had to spend hours grinding for resources to construct the Altar, only to receive nothing in return.
This was perfectly fine for her, as the entire guild was about being the best. What was better proof than an exercise in tremendous futility, while still obliterating all other guilds in PvP? It said, "I am good enough that I do not need extra help."
Now, standing in the opening of a domed room, a pool of viscous crimson liquid casting a blood-red glow throughout the space, she wondered if she had made a mistake.
Were gods real in this world? If so, what about this Truth business? Prelude was vague about what the Altar even was, what it was for. It did nothing, which, at the time, seemed perfectly aligned to Nephthys's desires, but now made her nervous. Was there a god or goddess of Truth? If so, that was probably bad news, right?
At least, if she had chosen a different god or goddess, she would be their beneficiary. That deity would theoretically be incentivized to be positive—or at least neutral—toward a guild that was venerating them.
However, not only was the deification of Truth opaque, but she had built the Altar specifically for its uselessness. This was not a good foot to start off on with a literal, actual deity—if there even was one.
"My lady, it is wonderful to see you again. I am pleased to learn you have recovered without issue," Akhenaton said, emerging from the red liquid in the center of the room.
He was just as she remembered him from a few days ago: cloaked and hooded, human-shaped, but only his face was visible. He wore a black blindfold across his eyes, though Nephthys thought there were subtle glows beneath, where his eyes should be.
"You nearly gave Ramose a heart attack, you know? He looked everywhere for you," Nephthys said, her Djinn body's neutral tone belying her surprise and unease.
"Indeed. Forgive me for acting suspiciously. Once I completed my part in your ascension, I came here, answering my lady's call," he said, now standing atop the liquid like it was a solid.
Strangely, though he emerged from the blood-like liquid below, he wore none of it. It was as if the liquid refused to leave the pool, defying all the laws of physics.
"I do not recall asking you to come here," Nephthys replied, a chill beginning to creep up her spine.
"You did not. Forgive me, mistress. I thank you for welcoming me into Nemesis, but it is not you or the guild whom I serve," he said with a small bow.
If her body were capable of it, Nephthys would be in a cold sweat. The disconnect between her body and mind kept her hands from shaking and her voice steady.
"And whom do you serve?" she asked.
"I serve Truth, of course," he replied flatly, as if speaking of the weather.
Had Akhenaton always served Truth, even when this was Prelude, rather than a real world? Had it always been a real world? Wait, if he served Truth…
"Are you suggesting that Truth had something to do with my ascension—" she began.
"Your arrival in this world? Yes, I believe She did, though my lady does not directly interfere in matters so small. Her concerns are far larger than any single world.
"She may have…nudged things in a certain direction, but events have played out largely as they would have without Her attention," Akhenaton explained.
Thoughts whirled through Nephthys's mind. He knows she is from another world? He knows there are multiple worlds? His lady's concerns are larger than entire worlds?
As the thoughts collided and clashed, none resolving satisfactorily, she eeked out the only response she could manage, delivered in the tone of cold detachment her body thrust upon her.
"Why?" she asked simply.
"Forgive me, mistress. I do not know everything, so I cannot provide the answers you wish. Even if I did, I would not simply explain things to you. Knowledge is power, and power unearned is dangerous. You have a great deal of it already, yes?" he said with a small smile that froze the marrow in Nephthys's bones.
"I did not ask for any of this," she replied, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.
"And yet, it is. We often must deal with reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be. My advice is to advocate for the world you wish for, but live in the world that is. And in the world that is, you have a tremendous amount of power at your fingertips—power you did not earn and do not understand.
"Know that I do not serve you or Nemesis. Know that my interests might not always align with yours. However, I will help you when I am permitted to. When I am not, I will not.
"I will not leave this room. I will not defend you or Nemesis if you are attacked. But I will aid you in using the Altar, and I will attempt to protect you from your greatest threat: yourself.
"For this reason, I will say no more. Knowledge must be earned. One must be ready for it, lest one be lost to it," he finished, clasping his hands behind his back.
A silence passed between them, Nephthys struggling to process everything Akhenaton said, while he merely stood and observed—or did not. She was unsure whether he could actually see beneath the blindfold. He allowed the silence to linger for several moments before moving things forward.
"Have you examined the Altar since you arrived in this world, mistress?" he asked.
Hearing him say 'arrived in this world' was both devastating and comforting in some strange dichotomy. It felt callous and cruel to withhold information about how she got here, or why she was here, from her, but she also found it strangely comforting that he was aware. It was like the relief that comes from knowing someone else is aware of a secret you are trying to keep.
She looked at the 'Altar' once again, its viscous blood burbling and popping occasionally. When she had read its tooltip in Prelude, it had merely indicated that it was the 'Altar of Truth.' Nothing more. Now, however, there was something new.
[Altar of Truth
Invoke my name, for I am Truth.]
"Invoke my name…" Nephthys wondered aloud.
Akhenaton gestured for her to step into the hopefully-not-actual-blood pool, and she obliged. She would have been more nervous about this step had she not seen Akhenaton emerge from it unscathed. Still, the idea did not excite her.
She stepped into the pool and experienced one of the strangest things she had ever felt. The liquid was up against her skin, but that was it. It did not cling to her, nor did she feel wet, per se. It was more like getting into a ball pit at a playground. The liquid was almost…moving around her body, nudging up against it. She did not feel submerged.
She walked out until the liquid covered her head, and when it pressed against her ears, she began to hear whispers.
"...Nemesis is back, it surely wouldn't have much left…"
"...It couldn't still be standing, you must be mistaken. Nemesis has had that energy surrounding it…"
"...Could be a possibility of Nemesis having artifacts left over, maybe buried in a…"
Nephthys opened her eyes, floating up to the surface of the liquid somehow. It seemed to know that she wanted out and obliged, or maybe she was ascribing intent and knowledge where simple mechanics were at play. She had no idea how the mysterious liquid in a deity's altar should work.
She looked over at Akhenaton, who wore a small smile. For some reason, the idea that he was smug about his lady's Altar annoyed her. She choked it down and asked the obvious question.
"What was that?"
"Surely you have gathered a hypothesis?" he responded.
Nephthys resisted the urge to frown. He just wanted to savor it, to gloat. Whatever, she would humor him.
"Voices, whispers from people I do not recognize, speaking of Nemesis. 'Invoke my name'...so, can we hear whenever Nemesis is mentioned?" she asked.
"Indeed, when the guild is invoked, this Altar can hear. Names have power, mistress. To name something is to call it, whether or not it has the power to listen. This guild now does," he replied cryptically, as ever.
"I see… will you be monitoring these 'invocations'? Typically, an altar would need a priest, which I presume is you," Nephthys prompted.
"Of course. I am not a priest by trade, but I will fill this role, assuming you will have me," he answered.
"It may interest you to know that many around Ashreach are wondering about the fate of Nemesis. Most seem to have assumed that the guild would not have survived the relentless press of the energy surrounding the building for centuries. However, word will reach them soon that the guild survives," he explained.
"Does this ability only affect people in Ashreach?" Nephthys asked.
"No, though only those in Ashreach would have any knowledge of Nemesis, yes? Vadenlaud and Grymiador would be unaware of the guild and so would not invoke it," he responded.
That made sense, though Nephthys felt unease. Not only was this entire situation strange, but now she had someone spying on potentially an entire continent's worth of people. Governments back on her home world would do terrible things with such surveillance power.
She was not sure she wanted it, but 'live in the world that is', huh?
"I see. Please keep me informed of anything relevant you overhear. Thank you for your hard work," she said, unsure how to end this conversation properly but desperately wanting to leave this place.
"Of course, mistress. Come back any time," he said with a small wave and a smile.
She shook her head as she left. She disliked that he seemed to know her thoughts. The whole situation was unsettling, and she would need to consider the potential uses and ramifications of the power now dwelling essentially in her basement.
For now, however, she wanted a distraction. Might as well check the vault.