Bul-Kathos pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel's, snapped the neck off, and took a long swig. He figured the remains of a general of the Skeleton King would be enough to make any suicidal fool regret their curiosity.
"Give it to me! Give me anything that can bring me closer to the end!" Craig begged.
Bul-Kathos lowered the bottle, looking at the young man with genuine confusion. "What is wrong with you, kid?"
Who, after feeling the icy touch of the grave, would scream for more? Even the insane felt fear when faced with the end. It was the most basic instinct of life, which was exactly why Diablo's power was the most terrifying of all the Great Evils.
"Please! Give me more!"
Craig's obsession had stripped him of his reason. He grabbed Bul-Kathos's wrist, his eyes shining with a frantic, joyous hope. Bul-Kathos hesitated. His own fractured soul made him slow to process "Fear," which was why he could charge through hellfire and poison without flinching. He knew what he was, but he didn't plan on changing it.
However, in his "slow" state, Bul-Kathos reached into his pack and pulled out a heavy, ornate set of pauldrons.
The Skeleton King's Pauldrons.
This was the most potent gift he had received from Leoric. Along with them, he pulled out the Leoric's Crown, the Scepter of the Mad Monarch, and the Wrath of the Skeleton King. These were the original, primordial artifacts.
The desecrated energy clinging to these items was enough to shatter the will of any mortal. One item alone was dangerous, but Craig was already holding the bones of Madhuak.
At that moment, the energy within the pauldrons split. The "Madness" of King Leoric latched onto Craig Hollis—the immortal man who could endure any trauma. But the "Power" and the "Regal Spirit" were drawn into the bones of Madhuak, cleansed of the insanity by Craig's unique constitution.
The Mad King was being purified.
Craig was experiencing exactly what he wanted: the sensation of the void. Madhuak's bones, siphoning a sliver of Leoric's essence, began to stir. The skeleton began to knit itself together, growing, shifting, and evolving.
"Wait... what?"
"What is happening?!"
Bul-Kathos and Volusk both cried out in surprise.
"Bul-Kathos! Quickly! Give him all of Leoric's gear!" Volusk shouted.
The Second Immortal King saw the opportunity. If this worked, the Wise King of Khanduras would return. And even if something went wrong, Craig Hollis was immortal; no permanent harm would come to him. As for the bones of Madhuak, they were already under Bul-Kathos's control. This was a once-in-a-multiverse chance.
"Dammit, Volusk! Have you thought about how we're going to compensate this kid?!" Bul-Kathos roared, though his body was already moving. He hated dragging an innocent into a dangerous experiment, especially an accidental one.
"This is my choice! I've never felt so alive!" Craig's voice was almost a sob. "Let me feel it! Let me feel the shadow! This is the closest I've ever been!"
Craig regained a flicker of consciousness, looking at Bul-Kathos with eyes that were clear and desperate. He set the pauldrons on the ground and screamed for the rest. That desperate call reminded Bul-Kathos of so many things—of the moment he had shouted Leah's name as he struck down the Prime Evil.
"Leah..." Bul-Kathos whispered the name involuntarily. "Young man, are you certain? In the end, you may find that this feeling is nothing but a cruel dream."
"I want to feel it. I want to embrace the end. Even if it's just for one true moment of dying, I'll pay any price!" Craig's voice was a ragged whisper. "Every time I 'die,' I feel nothing but a flash of pain. Then I'm back. For the first time, I feel like a human being, not a monster. Please... let me feel what a man is supposed to feel!"
Bul-Kathos let out a long breath. He pulled out Leoric's Crown.
As the crown manifested on the mountain, the air grew heavy with a soul-crushing cold. Craig shivered violently.
"If you just want the memory, this is enough," Bul-Kathos said, offering a final out. He didn't want the boy to choose madness.
"I am resolved!" Craig looked him in the eye.
"Then have it your way."
Bul-Kathos placed the crown in Craig's hands. Craig gripped the gold, and the shadow of death surged through his body before transferring into the growing skeletal form. The process repeated. Pauldrons, Crown, Scepter.
Two pieces of the King's legacy were now linked. The consciousness of Leoric was stirring.
"Do you wish to continue?" Bul-Kathos asked. Craig's body was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering.
"Give me the next one!"
Craig's eyes remained bright. He had watched his parents die. He had watched his lover die. Every time, he had stood by as the messenger took them, leaving him alone in the world of the living. Now, the veil was thinning. He could see them.
"Fine."
Bul-Kathos handed over the Scepter of the Mad Monarch. This artifact carried the core of Leoric's insanity. If Craig could endure this, the Wise King would be truly reborn.
As Craig's fingers closed around the scepter, a phantom scream of rage echoed from his very skin. In that moment, the skeletal remains of Madhuak underwent a final, violent transformation. The bones grew, lengthening into a towering, regal frame.
"I can see them! I can see them! Give me the last one!" Craig was reaching out with his other hand, his eyes glazed with a vision.
"Stay calm!" Bul-Kathos barked. Craig's skin was starting to show signs of decay, the "Madness" physically manifesting as rot. If this went further, no one knew what would happen to the immortal.
"I am calm! Quickly, they're leaving!"
As Craig spoke, a vision of a woman seated on a throne of bone appeared before him. He didn't need an introduction. He knew he was looking at Death herself. And standing beside her, smiling at him, were his parents and his lost love.
"Death! If you want this soul, come and speak to me yourself!" Bul-Kathos's voice thundered, channeled through Craig's body into the Realm of the Dead. He slammed the final piece—the Wrath of the Skeleton King—into Craig's hands.
In that instant, Craig "touched" his lover's hand. He felt the warmth of his mother's embrace. Everything he had lost was there, in the dark.
But then, the full weight of Leoric's madness hit him. A massive, shadowy specter of a skeleton erupted behind him. The four artifacts flared with a brilliant, ghostly light. Soul-energy began to circulate between the items, and the true soul of King Leoric manifested on the Holy Mountain.
"Craig, we love you."
"Craig, go back."
"I'm sorry, my love. Go home."
His mother, his father, and his lover spoke in unison. They reached out together, their spectral hands pushing the young man out of the Realm of the Dead and back into the world of the living.
Craig's hands flew open as the vision faded. The four artifacts snapped together, floating in the air. The bones of Madhuak scattered for a moment, then lunged back together, growing into a massive, seven-foot-tall skeletal warrior.
Nearby, the extra bone fragments knitted themselves into the form of Mina Harker, a small, elegant crown appearing on her skull.
"Long time no see, Bul-Kathos! And you, Volusk!"
The voice was raspy, like dry parchment rubbing together, but it carried an undeniable weight. King Leoric, the Skeleton King, hoisted his heavy mace, the Wrath of the Skeleton King, and handed the Scepter of the Mad Monarch to Mina.
As he fully awakened, a thick, ashen shroud of clouds covered the sky above Arreat. Leoric's power radiated outward, announcing the arrival of an entity that was neither living nor dead—a monarch who stood as a profanation to life itself.
On Mars, Imperius closed his eyes in disgust. To him, the Skeleton King was an abomination, even if he was now the "Wise King."
In her silent realm, the cosmic entity Death stood up from her throne. Her form shifted rapidly from a skeleton to a beautiful woman and back again. She was furious.
Leoric was a middle finger to her domain. He wasn't a "dead" being like Dracula, who merely manipulated time and blood. Leoric was a rejection of the very concept of life and death. He had no pulse, yet he possessed a soul. He could not be killed, because he was already beyond the end.
Death realized that her authority over Leoric was meaningless. To defeat him, she would have to rely on raw power and combat—things she rarely used. But even her power was tied to her authority.
The only ones who could truly suppress him were Eternity—who was currently occupied—or Infinity, who was still asleep. Oblivion was hiding in his hole. The awakening of the Skeleton King had blindsided the masters of the universe.
Leoric stood tall, his crown gleaming, his pauldrons casting long shadows. Cold energy condensed into a full set of spectral robes and armor. His chest was a cage of thick ribs, and beneath the crown, his skull burned with a pale, intelligent light. There was no trace of madness in him—only the overwhelming aura of a King.
"It seems the worst-case scenario we feared has come to pass," Leoric said, his voice grating yet oddly soothing. "But that you were able to awaken my true consciousness... I am impressed, Bul-Kathos."
Leoric swung his mace in a slow arc, the head of the weapon passing inches from Craig's face. The movement swept away the lingering madness from the young man's mind. A sane Leoric was an entity capable of resisting even Diablo's corruption.
"You owe that boy a debt," Bul-Kathos said, flexing his wrists. Seeing Leoric always reminded him of the feeling of shattering every bone in the King's body centuries ago. "A debt both you and I will have to repay."
"I seem to be lacking in possessions," Leoric said, looking down at Craig, who was weeping silently. Craig wasn't insane; he was simply grieving. He had seen the afterlife, but he had been pushed back. He was still a monster, still immortal, still alone.
"His body cannot hold the Barbarian blood," Bul-Kathos noted. He looked at Mina Harker, who was standing respectfully by Leoric's side. "And what of her?"
"She shall be the Princess of the Skeleton Realm," Leoric said, reaching out to pat Mina's head. Under his touch, dark hair grew from her skull, and her form was draped in a magnificent gown. Touched by Leoric's essence, Mina was no longer a vampire; she was the Skeleton King's first true subject.
"We have selected the next successor," Volusk interrupted. Since Bul-Kathos was walking a path of no return, the participants of this new era needed to know.
"This young man?" Leoric asked skeptically. "He lacks the will. The only thing of note is this Nephalem-adjacent body."
"Not him. A Barbarian recognized by Tyrael," Bul-Kathos replied. There was guilt in his voice, but also pride. He had chosen Rorschach. It meant Rorschach would carry the burden of the "Cage" if Bul-Kathos failed.
"He will be a man people can trust," Bul-Kathos added firmly.
"You will not be corrupted by Diablo, and the other Evils are mere trash," Leoric said, his voice full of contempt for the Great Evils. He had helped Bul-Kathos split his soul; he knew the process better than anyone. "Do you need me to enter the Dark Soulstone? I can suppress the others for you."
Inside Bul-Kathos's mind, Azmodan and Andariel screamed in impotent rage. They didn't dare provoke Leoric. They didn't want to be the punching bags for a sane, uninhibited Skeleton King looking for a way to vent his ancient grudges.
"You have fear now, Leoric," Bul-Kathos said bluntly.
The Skeleton King had regained his mind, but he had regained his humanity as well. And with humanity came fear. Without his madness, he was vulnerable to Diablo's whispers once more. When he had gone mad centuries ago, it was hard to say if it wasn't a defense mechanism. A madman cannot feel fear, and fear is the only weapon Diablo has.
"And yet, you are still fearless," Leoric chuckled, his jaw clicking.
"Put away that aura," Volusk grumbled. "This is Harrogath."
The cold dread radiating from Leoric was making the mountain itself uneasy. If Volusk hadn't been suppressing the mountain's spirit, Arreat would have already tried to eject the King.
"Is there a place for me to rest? I require a throne," Leoric said, pulling back his aura. Despite his skeletal form, he moved with the grace of high nobility. "If I have my mind, then I am once again the supreme ruler of Khanduras."
"You say that in front of the Immortal King?" Volusk mocked. "Go pay back your debt to that boy first." He pointed to the still-weeping Craig.
"A king with empty pockets," Bul-Kathos joked, snapping the cap off another bottle and taking a drink. He looked at Leoric's ribcage and put the second bottle back. How does a skeleton drink? Does he just sanitize his bones with the alcohol?
"What if I told you I still carry a spark of the Monk's lineage?" Leoric asked with a dry, rattling laugh. He couldn't smile, but his eyes glowed with amusement.
The reunion was strange, unexpected, and heavy with the weight of the past. But it was a good thing. Old friends were back together, and for the first time in a long time, there was laughter on the mountain.
"The world is a mess," Volusk said. "Why don't you go talk to the 'Death' of this world? See if you can get the soul of that boy's lover back."
Leoric paused. "That is a sadder story than you realize. It is better not to interfere."
Craig's lover had taken her own life to end her suffering. To those who lived forever, Death was sometimes the only mercy. Bringing her back would be a cruelty, not a gift.
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