Kor’Thank: Chapter 63

As Kora and her warriors charged into battle, Peter was assaulted by a metaphysical storm of insanity.  Thanks to the Fuckrising, his psyche wasn’t torn to countless shreds.

[Peter!]  Eun projected from inside the Bite Mobile.  [Are you okay???]

He looked back and squinted at the craft.  He no longer enjoyed the reality-cohering properties of its dyadic forcefield.  Consequently, it didn’t look solid; it appeared vague and hazy, flickering and blinking as it arrowed through a mess of chimeric planes.

[Eun!] he screamed.  [Can you hear me?  EUN!]  The ship was becoming less visible with each passing second.  Now its contours were morphing and blurring.

[S ve t e w  ld!] she shouted.

[WHAT?]  He opened the throttle on his personal willpower, pushing his thought-form to keep up with Dissona.  Her carapace began to unfold and widen, unleashing black tendrils of cancerous fog.  [I can’t hear you!  What did you—]


The Bite Mobile sank into a sparking whirlpool, then disappeared altogether.



Oh shit oh fuck oh holy fucking mamajama. 

Peter’s aura had changed markedly; it now resembled a holographic version of an anime robo-suit.  He felt his breath catch in his throat (the feeling of respiration wasn’t real, only a simulation—his psyche had been stripped to its vibrational essence), and squeezed his eyes shut as dimension after dimension blitzed his mind.  Thankfully, the psychedelics had done their job and boosted his aura’s noetic immune system.

Okay, Peter.  He opened his eyes and took a “breath.”  Concentrate.

Dissona halted and burst apart, cracking into a mess of black, pustulent jags.  Despite being protected by his auric armor, some of the madness still got through.

Fuck.  His nose and ears started bleeding.  Don’t know how much more I can take.  Don’t know how much—

And then she started spreading, infecting the expanse with not just darkness, but her God-cursed namesake:  utter dissonance.  Peter’s armor began to dissolve.

No! he thought desperately.  NO!  He desperately tried to think of an option, and realized they were all but gone.

All save one.

Like every hero who’d gotten to this point and managed to push it just a little bit further, he uttered the most powerful phrase in all of existence.  A two-word poem that held the secrets to the universe and the key to bliss.  An eternal mnemonic that accepted everything, denied nothing:

Fuck it.

And plunged into the depths of Dee Sonay.