Object 137

The Holder of Submission

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Submission". Should the worker sneer in utter contempt at you, then you have come to the right place.

The worker will lead you through a series of hallways. Should you try to make any conversation, he will invariably cut you off with a rude remark or insult. Do not bother, and certainly do not try to argue with or one-up him. It is best to remain silent.

Eventually, the worker will point at a door that looks no different from any other you might have passed earlier. He will then continue walking deeper into the institution without another word. There is no turning back; open the door and plunge in before you even see what is inside.

You will fall for about ten feet before slamming onto a marble floor in a massive throne room. If you break bones due to the fall, then there is no helping you. The throne room in which you will find yourself is not only enormous but lavish, with heavy obsidian pillars leading up to a massive, sprawling throne draped with heavy black cloths and lined with fine gold designs. The throne is so large that it can accommodate the several dozen scantily-clad women - all chained by ankle braces to the floor - seated all about in addition to the warrior-king on the throne.

The warrior-king is a towering, muscular man with the bearing of a proud, confident, and predatory warrior. He wears nothing but a loincloth, exposing his rippling muscles and countless battle scars. His force of will is so great as to be physically palpable. This warrior-king has clearly seen many battles and is strong enough to slay a thousand men with ease. He will fix you with a stony glare of utter contempt. Be quick, for the warrior-king has little patience. Ask him, "To what power will they submit?"

The warrior-king will roar with laughter, not of mirth but of condescension directed at you. He will boast that no entity is more powerful than he, and that he cares not for the Holders or the Objects or Him. He will demand that you cease your quest and become one of his lieutenants, that he will provide you anything you need, no matter how outrageous the request, so long as you never leave his palace nor think or speak of the quest for the Objects ever again.

The warrior-king's power is so great that even the staunchest, most determined person might be swayed to submit to him. Nevertheless, if you are truly determined to collect the Objects, you must stand strong and not bow to his immense presence. Instead, firmly repeat the question.

This time, the warrior-king will roar angrily. His concubines will be scattered and smashed against the obsidian pillars by the force of his outburst, and the very foundation of the throne room will tremble with his rage. You will certainly be sent sprawling, but do not allow yourself to be cowed by the warrior-king's rage. This time, the warrior-king will call you a fool among commoners, and that your best hope is to abandon your quest to become his servant, cleaning up whatever mess he leaves behind after the violent battles and large orgies he has every day. Once again, fight his alluring aura to shout the question one last time.

Now the warrior-king will grow silent and look you in the eye. If he deems you unworthy of his true, honest answer, then he will cripple you on the spot and seal you in his palace to be his waste-cleaner for the rest of eternity.

If you are worthy, however, the warrior-king will tell you, softly, why he fears Him, and why he fears the Gathering. What he tells you will fill you with terror to the very core of your being, for anything dreaded even by this fearless and powerful warrior-king is beyond human comprehension. Many fall into insanity upon hearing the warrior-king's true answer, and others beg him for a swift death. If you maintain your sanity and will to live, however, then a sudden gust of wind will blow through the hall, dissolving the warrior-king's throne room into nothingness. You will fall into a void for a few moments before finding yourself suddenly standing in front of the institution's front desk. The visibly annoyed worker will be holding one of the ankle braces that confined the warrior-king's concubines to his throne.

That ankle brace is Object 137 of 2538. You submit to nobody, but they will find a way to break you.