Dungeon Wreckers Chapter 67: Azathoth

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The Doc had been freed to treat John and Kari, but he ended up spending most of the morning examining Matthew himself. 

The tests unfolded like the first ones the Association put Matthew through in the early days. Florence had lent them her office, and the Doc asked his student to practice with his Key while he used his own to tune specific aspects of it, decreasing power for range, trading control for versatility… or at least he tried. Matthew could feel the power within him snap back against any alteration or attempt to shackle it. The Doc’s Key barely affected him for a few seconds before his sorcery returned to its original state like a wolf refusing to stay in its pen.

His powers had increased tenfold too. Matthew wouldn’t forget the look on the Doc’s face when he created a small bullet hole in a wall merely by staring at it anytime soon. That look of deep concern and dread only worsened his mood, doubly so when Disbelief failed to close it. 

“I won’t lie to you, Matthew,” the Doc said once they finished. His student sat on a hospital bed as he reread his notes. “This situation is deeply concerning.”

No kidding. 

“I can confirm that you indeed have two Keys coexisting inside you, with one being Yellow and the other Black,” his mentor said. “This is the first case of its kind, or at least the first we’ve identified. Black Flux is undetectable unless you know what to look for, so all earlier tests completely missed it.”

Matthew figured as much. “Azathoth and Yog-Sothoth,” he muttered to himself. “Those are two names, not one.”

The Doc nodded sharply. “In Lovecraftian literature, Yog-Sothoth is the keeper of all space and time, with whom magicians must bargain with to access distant and hidden worlds. Considering the common focus on pathways, I would assume that this is your Wormhole Key’s true name.”

“Which leaves Azathoth as the Black Key’s name,” Matthew said. “Any idea what it does?”

“That is the million dollar question.” The Doc scratched the back of his head. “Lovecraft referred to Azathoth as a primordial deity whose dreams created the universe, with lesser gods spawning from him. If we assume that Samantha’s Key provided names based on human symbology… then I can wager a guess.” 

He presented his notes to Matthew, including a badly-drawn sketch of a hydra with multicolored severed heads. Staring at it made him sick. 

“Tarantulas confirmed that Keys are Dungeons which have merged with a human host rather than a location, and that the former have grown independent from the Hydra that spawned them,” the Doc explained. “They have developed free will the same way he did. Which begs the question of why and how, since Keys all reliably obey the will of their users for good or ill.”

“Maybe you’re looking at it the wrong way,” Matthew replied as he thought about Jack, whose power fed on death. Was he a unique case? Or the natural result of a Key reverting back to its old instincts? “Why don’t Keys revert into Dungeons?”

“Exactly, which led me to a new theory; what if Keys are the natural state of Dungeons when not influenced by the Hydra, and that being severed from it reverts them from ravenous parasites to harmless symbiotes?” 

Matthew blinked. “You’re saying that Dungeons are the aberrations?”

“It’s the only explanation I can think of for why all severed cores all reliably turn into Keys rather than become independent Dungeons.” A scowl frowned on the Doc’s face. “In turn, it may be that Dungeons are the extension of a single mutated Key, or a normal Key controlled by a malicious alien intelligence. Tarantulas couldn’t confirm either possibility.” 

“The Hydra isn’t human, Doc,” Matthew said. The clown monsters he encountered in the Mall’s first iteration could only mimic and parody mankind. “I don’t think it ever was.”

In the end, they could only work on assumptions when it came to the Hydra. They wouldn’t receive clear answers until they reached its vile heart.

“To go back to Azathoth, I’ve wondered how Black Flux fit into the picture,” the Doc said upon moving on. “It’s the one color which never produced a Dungeon, but you are a living example that Black Keys can exist.”

“Maybe we just haven’t found any Black Dungeons yet.” There was a minority joke to make there, but Matthew wasn’t in the mood for dark humor.

“Could be,” the Doc conceded. “But I find it more likely that Black is simply so unstable that a Dungeon of that color simply cannot stay connected to the Hydra for long. Its presence so far is tied to paradoxes, errors, glitches… something that shouldn’t exist, but does anyway.”

Something that shouldn’t exist, but does anyway. Matthew mulled over that truth until he caught on to the end of the Doc’s statement. Black Flux disrupted both reality and the Hydra alike, and he had unknowingly been packing a Key radiating it since the start of his career. 

“Glitches?” Matthew muttered out loud. He couldn’t mean… “You're implying that my Key… that my Key causes Dungeons to bug out?”

“Maybe?” The Doc shrugged. “I always found it suspicious that your entire friend group developed Keys each of a different color complementing your Yellow one, Matthew. I’m sure there is a connection of some kind.”

Matthew pondered that possibility. Kari already pointed out that a great number of people who had lived near his home around 2015 had gained Keys. They thought it might have been caused by a timeshift, but what if… what if it had been because Matthew’s Key passively exposed them to Black Flux? Or unknowingly caused spawning Dungeons to glitch out, split from the Hydra, and bond to someone in the vicinity? 

Matthew didn’t know what to think of this. It just complicated things with new questions when he would rather keep everything simple. 

“I…” Matthew took a deep breath. “I remember it all, Doc. How I first got my Keys.”

He proceeded to recount his earliest memory, from his true name to the clowns’ ambush in the Mall and the shift to another reality entirely. The Doc listened patiently, as he always did, his hand moving to his mouth in horror. 

“Oh, Matthew…” The Doc sounded at a loss for words. “That is terrible–”

“It’s okay, Doc,” Matthew cut in. He felt too drained and empty inside for self-pity. “I’m done with sympathy. I just want to understand.”

The Doc winced at his words and gave him a sharp look full of worry. “Matthew–”

“I just want answers, Doc,” Matthew insisted. And more than that, he wanted revenge. “I want to end it all.”

The Doc’s jaw clenched, his eyes studying Matthew head-to-toe many times in quick succession. Matthew suddenly realized he should have worded it better, or at least in a way that wouldn’t worry his mentor. He was starting to catch on. 

“Based on your testimony, the Mall—or what the Mall used to be—is likely the original Dungeon and triggered the first timeshift upon failing to manifest in our reality. Since you were inside the Dungeon when the first timeshift happened, reality restructured itself on the assumption that you…” The Doc gulped. “Well…”

“That I didn’t exist,” Matthew finished for him. “You don’t have to be afraid to say it out loud, Doc.”

“That is still a terrible thing to say, Matthew, and that should not be uttered lightly.” The Doc stroked his chin. “You said some yellow slime seeped into you before you gained your Key?”

Matthew nodded sharply. A shiver traveled through his spine when he remembered that ooze crawling into his flesh, followed by a quick surge of Yellow Flux. The power within reacted to his own disgust. “I… I think it was a Dungeon core in liquid form.”

The Doc joined his hands and quickly drew the likeliest conclusion. “Your description implies that cores divide upon attempting to enter reality once they reach their final stage of development, and since you were inside the Hydra during this critical phase, a fragment of it latched on to you. A Key answers to the user’s emotions and subconscious desires enough that self-denial can suppress its power, so it’s possible that your Yog-Sothoth’s ability to create holes was a direct result of your strong desire to escape and return to reality.”

Matthew couldn’t help but scoff. “My Key lived up to its name.”

“And if the Mall is indeed the original Dungeon, unlocking its next floors might lead us straight to the Hydra’s heart…” A dark frown formed on the Doc’s face. “If only we could bypass that creature somehow…”

Matthew had an idea how to do exactly that, but he kept it to himself. He knew that the Doc would simply never agree to it, or worse, try to stop him before he was ready. 

Unfortunately, it seemed the Doc had picked up on his mental state. “We need to talk about your holes, Matthew.”

“Careful about your wording, Doc,” Matthew teased him in an attempt to deflect. “Some nurses might overhear us…”

“I do not find this matter particularly funny, Matthew,” the Doc replied without taking the bait. “Your Key’s instability is not the result of its growing power but an echo of your own mental state, which I find deeply concerning.”

Matthew bit his lip. “It’s just… a lot to take in all at once.”

“But it goes way beyond that, am I wrong?” The Doc waited for an answer, and then spoke up again when he realized Matthew wouldn’t offer one. “None of this was your fault, Matthew. None of it. You are innocent in all of this.”

“Oh, really?” Matthew matched his gaze, his hands clenching. “Who would call somebody who murdered not one, but two of his friends? Innocent?”

The Doc winced at his harsh tone. “One was an accident, and the other self-defense.”

“You can try to sugarcoat the truth as much as you want, Doc, but I’m still guilty of two manslaughters.” Matthew looked away. “I inspired Jack to become a monster.”

“Did you tell him to kill people?” the Doc replied calmly. “You are not responsible for another man’s decisions.” 

“I still failed to pick up on all the clues.” All the blood that bastard had shed could be traced back to Matthew, one way or another. “And Perse…” He would have cried if he still had tears to shed. “I’ve…”

“You were a child back then,” the Doc said softly. “You were put in an untenable position.”

“And that should excuse murder?” Jack had been right about one thing; Matthew knew the risk, and he still took that shot. “I’ve jinxed all the teams I've ever joined.”

“Kari and John are alive, Matthew.” The Doc took a deep breath. “You’ve helped save thousands of lives directly or indirectly. Amélia and her friends wouldn’t even be here without you.”

“And I put my teammates in danger by serving them to the Mall on a silver platter,” Matthew replied gloomily. “It wants me, Doc. It wants me dead because I got away.” 

“The Hydra was already trying to intrude upon our reality before you even gained your powers according to your own testimony; and if your survival splits that entity, then this is yet another reason for you to live.” The Doc took a deep breath. “If you ask me, this world is a better place with you in it.”

“You would say that about anyone else.”

“Then why don’t you ask for a second opinion?” the Doc straightened up. “John, Kari, and Maggie are all alive. You can simply wait for them to wake up and ask if they care.”

Matthew clenched his jaw. “I know what they’ll say.”

“Yes, you do,” the Doc guessed. “You aren’t afraid that your friends will blame you for what happened, Matthew; you’re afraid because you know that they won’t.”

Matthew remained silent. Of course his friends would blame him for what happened. Maggie did so the first time he messed up, and she didn’t even know everything back then. She would never forgive him if she ever learned the truth. 

Yet… yet part of him hoped that wouldn’t be the case. 

“No one’s existence is a net negative on the world, Matthew, and especially not yours.” The Doc looked at his student dead in the eye. “Matthew, I want you to swear something to me. Swear to me that you won’t do anything rash, that you will wait for us to figure things out as a team. Swear it.”

Matthew faced his mentor, his teacher, his truest confidant; the one person with whom he had always been honest and trusted with all his secrets. 

“I swear it,” Matthew lied.

And he could tell the Doc didn’t believe him. 

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