Kem Rhaeyek has about twenty seconds before he hits the water.
The first sixteen will have to address the most crucial problem: his missing arm.
It'll take four seconds to tear off his sleeve to serve as a bandage.
It might take seven or eight seconds to wrap the sleeve around the bleeding stump where his arm used to be. He isn't quite sure; he's only wrapped bandages using both arms before. The whole "missing an arm" thing is very new to him.
The last and most important step is to catch the arm out of the air. From its trajectory, he'll likely have to wait until the fifteenth second to reach it. Given the extra second to get a firm hold of it–
That leaves four seconds before the water consumed him. Looking over the options:
If he tries to see the man who cut off his arm, he'll likely be able to catch a glimpse of a few defining figures, but the attack must've been planned out. That means the attacker is likely wearing dark clothes. This won't do.
If he attempts to brace for impact into the water, he might remain conscious after the fall. The current is strong, and being awake could help him avoid crashing onto the rocks. More appealing for sure.
The last option is perhaps the riskiest. It's both lucky and unlucky that he can feel the gaze of two– maybe three?– of the Old Gods on his back. This moment must be a crucial one. That would explain the progression of time at a glacial pace. If he were to ask them to help… who knows what would emerge from the gloaming?
If the martial arts world knew about the Outer Gods, they would all cower. If they knew about the Old Gods, they would all die. Fortunately, the secret is well-kept. If the Old Gods intervene, Rhaeyek thinks, he'll survive for the moment. He has to wonder, though, what hell they would make of the rest of his life.
And suddenly, he starts falling:
One. Reach across his chest. Two. Claw at the fabric. Three. Expand the tear. Four. Rip it from the shirt.
Six. Grab the end of the sleeve in his teeth. Nine. Pull the other end tightly around his bleeding arm. Eleven. Tie a knot so it doesn't fall away on impact with the water (seven seconds, then. That's good.)
Twelve. Try and spot his falling arm. Fifteen. Grab the thing. Sixteen. Tuck it into his shirt so it doesn't get pulled away beneath the water.
Seventeen. Words begin forming on his lips. Eighteen. His eyes turn to the sky. Nineteen. The clouds part– just for a fraction of a second– and the moon gazes down upon him like an unblinking eye.
Twenty never comes.
GOTHIC MURIM: I SEE DEAD PEOPLE.
Rhaeyek sees, just for a moment, a flickering orange light through his eyelids. A torch? Maybe a candle?
He somehow can't bring himself to wake up. But he hears voices getting closer.
"I talked to Teacher Han Do. He says we should poison the boy."
The boy. Rhaeyek? Dangerous at best and deadly at worst.
"The teacher doesn't know what he's talking about. The last person he poisoned turned into a Night Thing."
"He's our expert on the Outer Gods. Who else could we believe?"
Rhaeyek brings himself to relax. A Holy Poison, then, to rid his body of the Wiles. They must have smelled the Outer Gods on him.
Don't let them poison you.
That voice wasn't dialogue. Rhaeyek startles awake, but the voice is gone. Was it a dream– the last embers of an extinguished world? But he never dreams. It's too dangerous, too close to the influence of the Old Gods.
And reluctantly, with this waking, Rhaeyek's eyes open. The first thing he sees is the unpleasantly harsh light beating over his face. The lantern has a lens, then. Who could want that is beyond him.
Beneath the lantern stand two men. One is bearishly tall with dark but well-kept hair and an unnaturally narrow frame. He scans their vest for a patch, but they wear none.
The second could be described as tall if not for the man next to him, and could be described as skinny if not for the man standing next to him. His black hair reaches down to his jawline, cut evenly and tied. This one does wear a patch - a white pentagon with red flowers blooming out of each corner. Poppies, maybe? He can't quite tell. This one has quite strong Qi.
The tall one looks down at him.
"You're awake. My name is Dong Ho. This is Dong Gaemon. We think you might be possessed by an Old God, so please don't move. If you let us poison you, we'll reattach your arm."
Rhaeyek glances to his side to see his arm. They've removed it from his shirt. They've also done up his bandage. It's much better now.
It's an appealing prospect to get his arm back. But whatever Old God it is that spoke to him in his dream will be against him forever if he does, and the ire of an Old God tends to be much less survivable than the ire of these brothers. There's only one option, then.
"Reattach my arm first."
Dong Ho sighs and leans down. They look like a flamingo, Rhaeyek thinks.
"If we were going to kill you, we would have done so already. Besides, being cured is good for you. Why wouldn't you want this?"
"I could have a Death Wile, so it's too risky to kill me. What if you cure me and murder me right after?"
Dong Ho scratches their chin.
"I guess there's no harm to letting you trust us first. My teacher says trust helps the medicine go down. I'll fetch him and he'll get your arm on right away."
Dong Gaemon steps forward. The dust kicks up around his step.
"Brother Ho, we will not be intimidated by weaklings."
Strong Qi, Rhaeyek notes– but not well controlled. An amateur. His voice is firm and confident. The one who was against the poison before, Rhaeyek decides.
"Take the medicine first. If you turn into a Night Thing, I'd rather you only have one arm. And I'm not worried about a Death Wile. I'm sure you feel my Qi."
Showing off his strength. Another amateur mistake. If Brother Erde were here it would be easy to blow past these two. But, Rhaeyek has to remind himself, that's why he's in this mess. He relied too much on Yi Erde.
"I'll take the medicine once you put my arm back. If you're not worried about a Death Wile, you have no reason to be worried about a Night Thing."
With no Yi Erde, the first thing to do is get his arm back. The brothers don't seem too willing– but Dong Ho manages to pull Dong Gaemon away, presumably to ask their teacher. They don't seem worried about him crawling off.
Still, Rhaeyek has to be careful around these two. They were skilled enough to detect the influence of an Old God on him. The tall one has weak Qi. Maybe he's a warlock too then, like Rhaeyek? But warlocks are so few and far between that the odds of one just happening to show up in– where is he?
Boats rock in the water behind him. No sun or stars above him. A cave, then. A grotto on the side of the river. He must have washed here. If the Old Gods heard his pleas, then one of them would have helped him through the river.
The Lord of Unbecoming, maybe? Unbecoming is known to help amputees. If Rhaeyek has to live life with just one arm, then this would be ideal. But things are rarely ideal with the Old Gods.
Endless Midnight (Twelve Ocean Days) wouldn't be so bad either. From what he remembers, Days is highly territorial. As long as he doesn't venture too far from sea, Days would be able to help him.
There are countless other Outer Gods, but given the day, only an Old God would be able to help. Tonight is All Saint's Eve, when the heavy hitters come out to play. The Outer Gods typically have to hide to avoid the big dogs, so only an Old God would have saved him.
Add that to the fact that the more malicious gods like the Great Old One and the King in Yellow would never have cared to hear his pleas and only the few pseudo-benevolent Old Gods are left.
That leads him back to where he was: the only gods who could feasibly help him are the Lord of Unbecoming, Endless Midnight (Twelve Ocean Days), and the Goat Mother. But, perhaps, these are all a step too strong to befriend. Perhaps an otherworldly patron would demand sacrifice. And sacrifice, as Rhaeyek learned from the assassin, will always lead to loss. Maybe next time he'll losing something worse than an arm.
Dong Ho comes back, this time accompanied by a different, older man. Rhaeyek looks up:
"Where did Dong Gaemon go?"
The older man scratches his goatee. This one also has strong Qi. Maybe not a warlock. A scar cleaves his forehead up to his hairline, where his short grey hair is parted so that his scar is perfectly visible.
"I sent him to meditate. He's growing angry as of late. Hard to control. I'm Han Do."
The man– the brothers' teacher– reaches out his right arm for a handshake. The arm, Rhaeyek realizes, that he doesn't have.
"Wrong hand."
"Oh. Sorry."
Han Do retracts his handshake. Rhaeyek could've picked up his severed arm and shaked Han Do's hand with it, but the joke would've been a shade too dark, even for Rhaeyek. Han Do doesn't bother to offer his other hand.
"I'm going to cure you now. Don't worry about the Outer Gods getting back at you. They don't really care what happens in Murim unless you invoke their name."
Before Rhaeyek can protest, Han Do moves, faster than the eye can see, and forces a pill down his throat. A lesser man could mistake it for an elixer, given its golden color, but Rhaeyek recognizes it for the Holy Poison that it is.
He instantly feels a movement in his lower center of Qi akin to a rat, escaping up through his throat. This isn't ideal. The wrath of an Old God is never something to be trifled with. Oh well. He'll have to hope it blames Han Do instead of him.
He focuses on the feeling of the Qi. Not the feeling of loss associated with Unbecoming. Definitely not the drowning sorrow of Endless Midnight (Twelve Ocean Days). The Goat Mother, then?
A blackness erupts from his mouth. Han Do catches it like a snake in the grass, holding its tail.
"Got you. We'll have a look at you and figure out who you come from."
Those are the last words Rhaeyek hears before blacking out.
You have made a mistake.
A black and empty plane stretches out infinitely before him. He attempts to summon his Qi, but it wretches in the void of nothingness. If this is an Old God's plane, then his invocations will be meaningless too. He is truly powerless.
He tries to speak, to tell the God that he tried to stop the poison, but nothing comes out. The suffocating blackness rips into his throat.
You will be silent.
A screech of disharmonious brass echoes before him as a creature in the darkness casts off the black like an overworn blanket.
Those whom I give my power have no right to reject it. And such a shame, too.
The creature stands, perhaps thirty feet tall, perhaps more. Its wrinkled skin seems to burn, as though it has been drenched in oil and lit aflame, but no light is born from it. Across its arms it wears a golden cape. Atop its head, a golden crown.
You would have been King.
Burning golden banners unfurl behind the King in Yellow.
Now you will simply be… nothing.
Rhaeyek feels his existence begin to fade away. First, his lower Qi center begins to dissipate.
"Ha…"
Rhaeyek attempts to speak to the King in Yellow, barely able to make noise. It cocks its head. Rhaeyek's lower center finishes draining. The darkness begins to eat at his middle center.
"Hast… HASTUR."
It's at this moment that the King in Yellow realizes he's been had. The Old Gods are powerful– infinitely powerful– but in their own realm, their name is their weakness. The name of a God is its most closely guarded secret. Speaking it in the waking world will draw its many eyes and likely result in a quick and timely death of the speaker and every last listener. Speaking it in their home plane, however, is an entirely different matter.
In the Plane of the Monarch, where the King in Yellow made the mistake of bringing Rhaeyek, the name means one thing: death.
Images begin flashing before Rhaeyek's eyes:
An incarnation of the King in Yellow driving its spired sword through the chest of a bleeding Yi Erde.
A swarm of Night Things crawling over the walls of a peaceful mountain fortress.
Baek Hwaryong, leader of the Murim Alliance, engaged in a duel to the death with the Cheonma - the Heavenly Demon - standing over hundreds of corpses. The tinge of wile affects the Cheonma's lips.
The message is clear. Rhaeyek shall suffer countless pains for his wrongdoing. As he claws out of the darkness, away from the dream where the King in Yellow will never be able to summon him again, Rhaeyek sees one last vision; one final death.
There's no reason to describe it. It will be the first thing he sees when he awakes.