After all that, Siegfried's duplicated bodies flickered and merged back into one as the cosmic battle subsided. But a new threat materialized with a booming vibration and a plume of smoke. Something dense and black, like a shapeless cloud, shot towards Earth at lightning-like speed, heading straight for Siegfried's house.
Finding it smoldering in the backyard, Retch recognized it as an ice floe – but an alien one. Black, smoky, and unlike anything he'd ever seen. He rushed it to his research lab, where analysis revealed a horrifying truth: the ice contained a micro-organism unlike anything known to science. It defied all attempts to be destroyed – even extreme heat couldn't kill it.
Siegfried wandered in, catching a repugnant whiff of the alien material. "Another bizarre experiment, huh?" he asked, eyeing the pulsating black mass. "Guess that's the leftover from back there."
"This is beyond bizarre, Siegfried," Retch said, his voice tight. "This thing houses an unknown micro-life form. It survived the journey here and even being burned!" He held up the frozen, black, and disturbingly organic mass.
An unsettling thought flickered in Siegfried's eyes. "Maybe it's the same entity, just… fragmented. We could try injecting a sample into you. Or… drink it?"
Retch recoiled, his face contorted in disgust. "Are you serious? This thing reeks like a rotten corpse, Siegfried!"
"No risk, no reward," Siegfried shrugged, a disquieting glint in his eyes.
Against his better judgment, Retch prepped a syringe with the vile liquid. A tense silence hung in the air as he injected himself. Nothing happened for a few agonizing minutes. Then, after fifteen excruciating seconds, Retch vanished.
Siegfried remained unfazed, settling on the couch with a mug of coffee and the television on. He already knew the script. Despite the non-existent threat of smoke inhalation, he puffed on an imaginary cigarette, a strange smile playing on his lips.
Meanwhile, Retch found himself plunged into an abyss. Absolute darkness, punctuated only by a faint, maddening hum. Even worse, a bone-chilling wind howled through the void. Suddenly, a colossal eye materialized before him, its cataract-clouded surface an abomination to behold.
A voice, a cacophony of screams and guttural growls, boomed around him. "You too… CHOSEN. One who beyond good and evil. You will join your friend."
The monstrous entity, introducing itself as N'ghaarnagg, presented Retch with a head-like transformation device – a macabre head with two slots. The cards housed within were even worse: "N'ghaarnagg" for its own form, and "Y'haagla," depicting a festering, tentacled monstrosity.
"One… or two cards," N'ghaarnagg rasped. "Insert them… into the eyes."
After Retch materialized back in Siegfried's house, a flicker of unease crossed his features despite his forced chuckle at Siegfried's joke. "Rotten place, alright," he muttered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for something unseen.
"So, why us, Siegfried?" Retch finally asked, his voice hushed. "Why choose us as vessels for… whatever these things are? Don't they usually thrive on chaos?"
Siegfried barely glanced away from the TV. "Nyarlathotep mentioned something about... a necessary evil. He said worse things are coming, entities that make the current 'bastards,' as you put it, look like saints. Apparently, this new one is here to clean house. This world, after all, was supposedly created by one of them."
Retch's brow furrowed. "That's not comforting, Siegfried. Feels like we're just pawns in some cosmic game. Sacrificing our souls for a bigger picture."
"Not exactly," Siegfried countered, a flicker of something unsettling in his eyes. "They'll take our consciousness if we're truly useless, but apparently, if we make a pact… our souls get stored away somewhere. Secure, supposedly. Immune to death."
He rose and stretched, heading towards his room. Exhaustion from the fight, even if he wasn't directly controlling the form, tugged at him. Retch followed suit, methodically closing windows and doors before switching off the lights. As they settled into their beds, a prickling sensation crawled up Retch's spine.
Just as they were about to drift off to sleep, a horrifying sight unfolded. In the corner of the room, the translucent figures of the entities that had possessed them materialized. Both Nyarlathotep and the monstrous N'ghaarnagg shimmered there, their inhuman gazes fixed on a point beyond the wall.
Without a word, the entities phased through the solid wall, their forms dissolving into nothingness as they vanished outwards.
A heavy silence descended upon the room. Siegfried, unfazed by the shocking apparition, merely muttered a single word.
"Strange."
After that, Siegfried slept like a log, waking at precisely 7:00 am after eight hours of uninterrupted slumber. He washed his face with practiced ease, then went about his morning routine as if yesterday's cosmic brawl hadn't even happened. A chicken breast sizzled in the pan, the familiar aroma filling the kitchen.
"Same boring nightmare, eh?" Siegfried remarked, glancing at Retch who was fidgeting in the corner like a caged animal.
Retch forced a smile. "Something like that. Too much… headroom in this place, you know? Speaking of, practice? I haven't gotten a feel for this new form yet. Don't want any… surprises."
"Fair enough," Siegfried said, flipping the chicken. "Backyard alright? We got some punching bags out there, and some… other things to test on."
Retch nodded, a flicker of anxiety crossing his features. "Fine, but eat first. Don't want to see you pass out mid-transformation."
They filled their stomachs, a tense silence hanging between them. Breakfast finished, they geared up. Siegfried opted for the classic "Out-boxer" style, relying on jabs and footwork, while Retch, still grappling with his new form, opted for a more aggressive "Pressure Fighter" approach.
The next two hours were a blur of punches, kicks, and a cautious exploration of their newfound abilities. Siegfried practiced dialing back the devastating power of Nyarlathotep, focusing instead on controlled bursts. Retch, on the other hand, struggled to contain the raw chaos of N'ghaarnagg, his body crackling with barely contained energy.
"Alright, time to test the real deal." Siegfried finally declared.
They packed essentials, opting for the land route. Siegfried's car, a marvel of engineering, could handle both land and sea, its advanced fuel system negating any worries about distance. With a roar of the engine, Siegfried slammed the pedal to the metal, the car morphing into a sleek flying machine.
The Island of Kerbas materialized on the horizon after two hours of high-speed flight. Isolated and cloaked by rolling waves, it offered the perfect testing ground, away from prying eyes (except maybe a stray satellite). They landed on the deserted beach, the salty air whipping their hair.
This was it. The moment of truth. Siegfried popped the Nyarlathotep card into the transformation slot. Retch followed suit, N'ghaarnagg replacing his human form. The world warped around them, the air crackling with raw power. Lightning danced across the sky, seemingly triggered by the clash of their borrowed entities.
A monstrous grin stretched across Siegfried's face as he unleashed an attack on the churning sea. A blinding flash erupted, a colossal mushroom cloud billowing skyward. But unlike a nuclear bomb, there was no lingering radiation, only a chilling emptiness left behind. An attack like that, aimed at a city, would leave nothing but a crater.
Meanwhile, Retch struggled to control the maelstrom raging within. Bolts of lightning erupted from his mouth, each carrying enough power to incinerate metal. His movements were erratic, fueled by a chaotic power that threatened to consume him.
Their practice session had just begun, and the consequences of wielding these borrowed powers were starting to become terrifyingly clear.
To be continued...