First Minds.
First Minds, all watching me with those eyes so much like mine, so much like Nero's. I want to rush forward and embrace them all. I want to tell them everything. I want this moment, this culmination to last forever. I want to hold them still while Amaterasu devours them, and laugh while they die.
Rei, tasty-tasty-tasty white-rock ooooh let me out mana mana manamanamana tasty mana-beings and I will share with you, oh yes, if you let me out to feed I am generous and will give you lovely bits of mana...
I sometimes wonder how I ever got by without Amaterasu-chan. They're all watching me now. "You went on ahead," The One Who Bridges The Gap says. "Tell us of your time on the planet. How long have you been here? Did you come of your own free will, or were you called?"
"Many, many years," I reply. "I was called to this place by the meddling of a man named Inase Spark. A man who meddled overmuch with the Stone That Shines to the Stars."
One of the First Minds looks to the One Who Bridges The Gap, and I know that I have been discovered.
"Inase Spark," The One Who Bridges the Gap replies, "That makes sense. And you are aware of our decision? About the question?"
He knows. He knows. He knows. I don't care. I stand my ground. "Decision?"
"Yes. Made after great deliberation by the conclave."
He explains. He explains that they sought a way to halt the unraveling by controlled consumption, but it was not enough. It delayed the process of the unraveling, but did not halt it. He explains that the conclave decided that if they were to cease to be, then they would not cease before the Question had come to a satisfactory answer, and the only satisfactory answer would be one of their own choosing: 'No.'
Mikomi, Mikomi, Reikomi, Mikorei... it looks so tasty, all that white-rock, all that mana, oh please let me out. I'll give you a present! Mana! You like mana, don't you Rei? I know you do. You like it just as much as I do, and look at all of it sitting there in that whiterock and in those scrumptious, scrumptious Firsty-Minds, oh let me out, please, please, please...
Is this what it feels like to go mad? No. Moses and Kiyoshi think I'm crazy, but I'm not. Ama-chan keeps me sane. That's her gift to me. Her thoughts shine like the sun, and now, so do mine. Wonderful, burning thoughts like sunbeams searing through meat and bone...
"Some of us opposed the answering of the question on our own. They called it self-indulgent. We have... silenced them. Destroyed them. There are none of us who are not Resistors, now. No tools of the All who are not Resistors can be allowed to exist. But you know this."
I nod, playing along, although both of us know that it's only that. I wonder why he hasn't tried to kill me, and I can only suppose that he's curious about... me. About a hybrid. Half Cheldrun, half First Mind? ... I don't know what to think of that. I don't feel divided into halves. I feel like me.
I feel like you, too.
Thanks, Ama-chan.
"I have encountered the tools of the All native to this world. The Dusk Sages," I say.
"Ah, then you have destroyed them?"
I nod. "That is a fair assessment."
He looks at me for a long moment. "... Good. If that's so, then the DisLocators should stop working, but perhaps they have outlived their usefulness."
It is only sheer force of will that prevents me from visibly reacting to that statement. My thoughts race. I had no idea. No idea. But looking back at it now, it's so obvious, so very obvious...
What's obvious is that you should let me out, Rei-chan. Rei-chan Rei-chan Mikomikomiko-chan, Rei-chan Rei-chan Mik0mikomiko-chan... Deliciousness, deliciousness...
I swallow once before I trust my voice to continue. "And what of the Kyo-TeeShee?" At his confused look, I explain: "The Oni of the Dusk Sages."
"Irrelevant. Ultimately, they will serve our ends, whether they know it or not."
"I see."
He looks at me with a horribly seeing sort of gaze, then, and he says, "One Who Hopes, you will fulfill your part in the conjunction that is to come, yes?"
I feel a peculiar sense of crawling within my skin, and I barely repress a shudder. "What would you have me do?" I ask.
"The life of Karia will attempt a meeting: a misguided meeting. You have lived among them. They think you one of them. You must ensure that the Answers to the Question fizzle out before the grand conjunction can occur."
"... I'll see what I can do," I say. My eyes stray to the White-Rock.
Tasty, tasty, and I promise to share!
He nods, and the others seem satisfied.
"If the kyo-teeshee will ultimately serve your goals regardless of what they will," I say, summoning forth Ama-chan as a primal fire, "Then maybe we should let them get to it."
Ama-chan, feed.
I attempt to teleport.
Nothing.
Amaterasu surges towards the White-Rock, but even as she moves, the Dusk Sages simply reach up their hands, and chunks of her break off and flow into them, and she shrieks in agony. For a long tortured moment I see her, my other self, writhing in agony being torn to pieces as the First Minds feed on her. In a panic, I draw her back to me, and she flows into a corner of my mind and into my arms, gibbering and weeping, and her pain staggers me.
"You should go now," The One Who Bridges the Gap tells me, looking at me disapprovingly.
I nod, barely containing my wrath, my anger, my hatred for these beings. THEY HURT AMA-CHAN. "You'll have to forgive her. She's a bit... impetuous." I meet The One Who Bridges the Gap's gaze. "I'll see you again," I say.
"Perhaps. If you are not unraveled before then."
I teleport, and for a moment it catches... and then I slip through, as though I had only left because they allowed it.
It rankles. First Minds, how it rankles... hah! I can't swear by them anymore. My destination... my destination is the only place I know of where they might be able to help Ama-chan:
The Grand Chantry.
Even as I vanish in a puff of smoke, I wonder how deep their influence goes, how much is my will and how much theirs, and whether my connection to them might be the doom of us all.
--------------
*Teleport*
--------------
It's briefly disorienting, suddenly being elsewhere. All at once, I am in the central plaza of the Grand Chantry, nevergems gleaming brilliantly all around, the noises of the Prill city ring loudly in my ears. They do not react well to the sight of someone appearing in a whirl of smoke. The alarm is sounded almost immediately. Songs of alarm, songs of warning, songs of protection, songs of destruction. The latter are aimed at me, I suppose.
Amaterasu's pain snaps me out of my daze, and I call out, "I mean no harm! I need help! I need to see Elder Moon!"
After a few tense moments, a confused voice calls out. "Rei?"
I look up, and familiarity hits me like a physical blow. For a moment I don't understand what I'm seeing, and then... "Ramora?" I ask.
People are staring, and Amaterasu is bleeding a thin rainbow coloured liquid. Her right arm is gone, and there are large chunks missing from her abdomen. My heart clenches.
"Rei, what are you doing here? We heard that you had all died!"
I look up. For the briefest of moments I see Mokuzai all in bits and pieces before me. "We're alive. We were on the Wandering Star."
Ramora breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank the Sages for that. You have to tell Elder Moon. She's been in a panic for days, saying that Elder Mokuzai is dead!"
Pain. For a moment I'm not sure if it's mine or Amaterasu's. Maybe it doesn't matter. I look away. "... Mokuzai is dead," I reply.
He staggers visibly, going absolutely pale.
"I need to see Elder Moon," I say.
The meeting doesn't go well. I try, but Moon is full of grief and pain. Her mate is dead, and it is a strange word. The strangeness of the word does not make him less dead. She will not help Amaterasu. She says that the war will never end, that there is no peace.
I try to explain. I try to tell her about how even if the war will never end, it's still worthwhile to fight to preserve today, and the next day. That it's still worth fighting, for one another.
She tells me not to return unless it's with Mokuzai's body.
I leave her to her grief.
--------------
*Teleport*
--------------
The world lurches, and all at once I am in the glade outside of the Grand Chantry where Inari's Grandmother once stood. The glade still shows signs of Asamu-Oni's influence. Grass grows only from those few patches of ground that avoided his touch, and the fallen tree which still dominates much of the glade is a chalky gray colour, like ashes. I smell decay.
Amaterasu's pain still hovers in the back of my mind, and I will need to teleport again today. A deer trail runs across the edge of the glade, and I notice fresh droppings alongside it. I examine the area for a few moments, and then set out westward. Five minutes later, I come across a sickly hart lying on its side and panting for breath, it antlers digging deep furrows in the earth.
My psychic knife flickers to life.
It only takes two strikes. Two strikes, and I am full of energy again. It feels good, and I feel vaguely unsettled about that.
As I walk back towards the clearing, I offer Ama-chan some mana, which she eats greedily. It seems to go a long way towards healing her. Then I try to teleport back to the Sennin... and nothing happens. There's a hollow sense in my head, and I can't account for it.
I sit down and think for a moment. If they're no longer on the Wandering Star, then where would they be?
Una... probably wouldn't care where they went. The psychological stress factors caused by a continuous depressed state seem to have drained her volition.
High Dive... probably wouldn't care where they went, since she's happy as long as she has candy and things to kill.
Kiyoshi... maybe to visit his family in Matamos?
Moses...
My eyes widen, and I distinctly recall him having said that he needed to go to Geneva Prime and speak with Katashi Blade. "He wouldn't..." I whisper.
He would. That sounds like exactly the sort of thing he would do.
I rise to my feet and reabsorb Amaterasu for the journey, and then I teleport.
Home.
--------------
*Teleport*
--------------
Home.
My room materializes around me, and for a moment it is just as I left it, shielded bed in the center, a desk off to the side, a dresser with two week's worth of clothing it it in the far corner, cameras lining the walls.
But it's not real. It's less than a memory. An echo of what was. The distant past, and not even compelling enough to seem like more than the memory of an unpleasant dream. My knife flickers to life on my hand, and its pink glow displays the truth of the room. The desk is gone. The dresser is gone. The bed is gone. The cameras are gone. Dust covers the bare floor, and not even force or energy flow through the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Empty. Less than a memory.
I open a panel next to the door and hit the manual release for the door's magnetic clamp. It pops open with a faint hiss, and I slip out into the greater complex.
Empty. Dark. Dusty. Nothing except for me and my psychic knife.
And then Ama-chan is with me, shining, illuminating the hallway, and I'm no longer alone. It's a strange thing to have company here. It's like... having another Aimi, maybe. Ama-chan isn't very much like Aimi, though. Though I suppose they do both kill people spectacularly. I find myself wondering where Malicious is in all this, whether she's working for Katashi Blade as well, or escaped, or dead, or... I don't know why that would bother me. I hate her.
I walk past the corridor where Malicious mind-blasted me for 'being difficult,' and I can almost feel the pain of it all over again.
"I'm hungry," Amaterasu says as we walk.
I roll my eyes. "You're always hungry."
"Mana?" she asks, a hopeful look on her face. And then there is a flicker of... I don't know. Something. I don't know what she's thinking. "Onee-san, please?"
I stop in my tracks and stare at the little girl walking next to me. Onee-san.
Older sister.
It makes me... happy?
"Maybe later," I say fondly. "When we find Moses, I might need you to shine for me, Ama-chan. If I give you some mana, can you do that?"
She nods enthusiastically. "Mana mana mana-mana-mana," she sing-songs, and initiates a series of movements which I do not immediately recognize. A moment later, I realize that she is dancing. Dancing and... singing? I don't catch all of the lyrics, but it's a nonsense song about how tasty mana is, and how 'her Onee-san' gives her mana when she's hungry.'
I raise an eyebrow. Singing and dancing. I've heard of this, even seen the Gogajin do it during our stay with them, but it seems oddly out of place to see Ama-chan doing it. I find myself wondering exactly how much is left of the Dusk Sage that she was before she became a Kyo-TeeShee.
It is then that I notice a door ajar close at hand - the only door in the whole complex that I've found ajar. I turn.
Nero's room. My eyes widen ever so slightly, and I feel that old familiar mixture of emotional responses. Fear. Hatred. Familial affection. Rage. I see the boogeyman - the Enemy - hiding under my bed. I see the monster in the closet. I see the Jevuum Cheldrun-Eater that Sever and Stitch used to tell frightening stories about when we were younger. And all of these figures share one thing in common: They all have Nero's eyes.
I push the door fully open, and it clanks loudly against the blank wall within.
Empty. Sterilized. Nothing, except...
Except for the First Mind runes carved into the blank, empty walls, ceiling, and floor.
How long has this been going on, I wonder? How long has Nero known about this? He'd always seemed wrong, but when did it really begin for him? I wonder...
I turn away from his room and head for the exit, and Ama-chan follows just behind me.
--------------
I step into the tunnel system beneath Geneva Prime, and it is silent. At first.
It begins as whispers in the back of my skull. Just whispers. Whisperwhisperwhisper. I put a hand to my forehead, and Ama-chan looks at me questioningly.
"It's nothing," I say.
She nods. "Let's go somewhere where there's mana," she says.
I shake my head and call her back into me. She vanishes in a swirl of fire.
Her own thoughts like the sun join the whispers in my mind. I continue moving forward, and all at once the whispers crescendo into a roar that drowns out everything.
Everything.
I... I is a category mistake. We are the underground market. We are Samophlange Jack, and Ishmael, and Yamamoto Eiko of the Jade Falcon clan, and Tamaguchi Unryu of the Ruby Hawk clan, and the beggar on the street who lost everything when Goshi deposed the government, and the purveyor of knick-knacks who hates his job, and the courtesan living in luxury when her whole family fell into ruin now accompanying a minor Goshi executive to a hotel on the other side of the city, and the message boy whose mother warned him to be very careful in the underground, and the father showing his chidren the underground market, and the nobleman pretending to be a biomade buying a rifle from a gun shop, and the pregnant Allskin woman - Aiko - making her way home after a long day working as a barmaid, and the young thief whose hand was even now coming near the being that bore the function of the underground market, but he sees that she is in pain, and falls to her knees, and she has a psychic gauntlet, and that's bad news so he draws back and goes the other way... and... and... and... and...
‘God that woman is hot. I would do her again and again.’
‘I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that.’
‘I want an ice cream cone.’
‘I hate this job.’
‘I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU HATE YOU HATE YOU!’
‘Maybe I should just tell him off.’
‘Here’s how to...’
‘I will always love you.’
'Why did I ever decide it was a good idea to have a baby?'
‘I want...’
‘I wonder what would happen if I cut my finger off. I guess I wouldn't have a finger.’
‘That’s a big...’
'Don't talk to strangers. Don't talk to strangers. Don't talk to strangers.'
‘It’s the thing you hate the most.’
‘I’m getting old. Old and fat. Fat and bald and old. I hate my life. I hate my job. I hate my stupid, fat, bald, old face.’
‘Looks like you gained a few pounds, you cow.’
'Mama said be careful. I mustn't talk to strangers.'
‘Do you often sing or whistle just for fun? What does that mean?’
‘It’s the thing you hate the most.’
‘I want...’
‘I HATE YOU HATE YOU HATE YOU HATE YOU...’
‘I should tell her how I feel. Even if she doesn’t like me, she might still be willing to do me.’
‘Old, fat, bald, stupid... Age is against me. The world is against me. The children here are lucky. They’re young. Not like me.'
‘Oh God. I knew this was going to happen.’
'Why won't daddy buy me an ice cream? I WANT AN ICE CREAM!'
and...
and...
and...
and...
and...
and I come to my senses with a shocking kind of suddenness.
I am standing at the entrance to the underground market, and the long missed background hum of the minds of everyone around me buzzes comfortably in the back of my awareness. I realize with a start that it has been months since I had been in the presence of more than seventeen Cheldrun minds simultaneously, and I brush my hair out of my eyes and move on.
'Oh shit, isn't that Rei?'
The thought is faint but clear, and I immediately turn towards the mind from whence it came.
There.
I follow the figure around the corner, and...
I blink. She looks familiar, somehow.
... "Terry?" I ask. Terry the Canary. The mechified who was with the UMA... so long ago.
She stares at me in horror, and I am her. Oh First Minds this is bad I can't be seen with her with Rei I already told them everything and they'll think I'm with the UMA! Oh, First minds this is bad, oh fuck, I can't be seen with her...!
No. I know who I am and what I want, at least for now. I am Rei, and I want to save Moses from his own bad judgment, his own poor strategic planning.
"I'll let you be on your way on two conditions, Terry. First, answer my questions. Second, forget you ever saw me. Is this an acceptable arrangement?"
She nods. "What are you doing here, Rei?" she asks, and in her head, she is screaming.
"Following Moses," I say. "Here to be a hero."
At the mention of Moses, her thoughts go into overdrive panic-mode. "You're way, way too late," she says. "Where were you when Goshi was taking over? You ran away. You and the others. You left us here."
"It's never too late, Terry," I say. "The time to be a hero is always 'now.'"
Her thoughts turn bitter. 'Yeah right, bitch. If you were really a hero, you'd do something about Mickey and the Surgeon.' And I see them both. Mickey, driven nearly mad by Nero's psychic thumb print. The Surgeon, black-listed and destitute.
I consider the two alternatives. The Surgeon would be more tactically useful, and I might actually be able to help him: I don't know if I can do anything for Mickey. "Where's the Surgeon?" I ask.
She holds up a brown paper bag and thinks of his address. "I was just on my way to take him some lunch before I ran into you," she says. She doesn't think of me as 'Rei' in her mind. She thinks of me as 'Assassin bitch.'
I hold out my hand. "Give me the lunch, and I'll take it to him," I say.
She looks at me incredulously for a moment, but she does hand me the lunch.
"Goodbye," I say. I vanish, and I have just enough time to see her eyes widen in surprise before the Dislocation takes me to a small, dirty tenement in the middle of the Mechified slums. Goshi Tower looms large in the distance, and I hear the faint sound of explosions echoing off from somewhere, and smoke rising from... is that a rail line? I shake my head and enter the tenament.
He's at the bottom floor, and he is surprised to see me. His skills are being wasted here, and I tell him so, but he says that he's out of luck: he's been blacklisted. I think about the situation for a moment, and then I tell him the tactical situation: Moses is here.
He nearly chokes on the water he's drinking.
"He's here to kill Katashi Blade, but he's walking into an ambush. I will not allow Moses to die, Surgeon. It will not happen. In exchange for your assistance in saving him, we will take you with us. We can use a good medic, and we have both the means and the will to put your skills to good use."
He thinks it over for a moment, and then gives his mental assent. "What do you need?" he asks.
"Explosives. Lots of explosives."
He looks around at his run down, empty shop, then glances at me. "Well, I don't have that, but I do have something that might be helpful." He moves over to a curtain covering a hole in the wall at the back of the shop and pulls it aside. "Meet the Bronze god."
He steps out from behind the curtain, a... gogajin... mechified? His skin is puckered and horrifically scarred, and his mechanical parts are made out of bronze, but I still recognize the figure that steps forward.
It's not explosives, but it will do.
"Hello, Balder," I say in his own language.
He raises an eyebrow, looking me up and down. "Well, fuck me!" he says incredulously.
"No."
He laughs.
--------------
*Teleport*
--------------
Ten minutes later, after I've sent the Surgeon to the rendevous point outside the city and explained the situation to Balder and successfully enlisted his aid in mounting a rescue operation for Moses, we appear two floors short of the topmost floor of Goshi tower, and Balder immediately looks around for enemies. There are none. There is only the voice of an office lady assuring her lover over a comm-device that she's perfectly safe this high up.
Kiyoshi. Kiyoshi's thoughts. Kiyoshi's mind. In the elevator. Going up. Kiyoshi and Moses and... someone I don't recognize. Someone whose thoughts are cold and harsh and unwelcoming. Hurricane? No, she's dead. Rain. Going to see the Executor...
Oh hell.
The office lady notices us just as we are boarding the elevator. I tell her to get out of the building as fast as she can, and don't wait to see if she does it. The elevator only goes up one more floor. Damn. Not the right lift. We go up.
The doors open, and...
Una?
High Dive?
There they are, Una pacing back and forth in front of the lift, High Dive sitting in a corner in squirrel-form eating a whole bowl of candy.
For a moment, we all just stare at each other. Then Una asks, "Rei?"
There is a note of distrust in her voice that was not there before. It it... disconcerting.
"I brought Balder," I say as I step out of the elevator. "Why are you here, Una? Why aren't you up there with Kiyoshi and Moses?"
She looks suspicious. Is she... angry at me? Maybe. I can't tell. Karians are hard to read. "We're the backup," Una says. "We're supposed to go in if things get bad."
"Things are bad," I tell her. Things are very, very bad. I will not allow Moses to die. Not like this. Not at the hands of one of THEM.
"What do you mean?" Una asks.
" Katashi Blade is a First Mind."
Showing posts with label Season 3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Season 3. Show all posts
Emo Champion: The Last of Her Kind
The Emo Champion Award goes to the character who most players agree provided the most emotional drama through roleplaying through the entire season. This prestigious award is accompanied not only by the trophy emblem (right), but by 5, count them 5, of the coveted green Never Gems. The honored recipient of the third ever Emo Champion Award is Una, the saddest character ever.Bamuna of the Reikoku clan is the saddest character ever. She wins this award because she is the saddest character ever. If you need proof, read this.
She started the campaign as a lonely, slightly crazed and bloodthirsty Vorax searching for others of her kind. The first other Vorax she found became the first eyeless of the campaign. The next Vorax went crazy, starved himself and died in her arms. Then she found a flight of dozens of other Vorax only to learn that they were the last Vorax on Karia and they were bent on suicide. At the start of this season she made her break with the Last Flight, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to fruition, but they did at last immolate themselves above Omexon before turning into an Oni and a flock of eyeless in front of her.
When preparing for my interview with Una I made sure to bring four boxes of tissue.
Everyone in the group treats the subject of Una's situation with great tenderness.
"I don't really know what it would be like to be the last one..." Moses said.
Kiyoshi nodded somberly, "None of us do, but..."
"but it must suck, because she's always crying!" High-Dive interrupted.
Kiyoshi scowled, "I was going to say, but she has been incredibly courageous, fighting on like this..."
"And her tears have magical healing powers," chirped the squirrel.
"... many others would have given up..."
"But I'm glad she didn't because she gives the best belly-rubs!"
(At this point Kiyoshi chased High-Dive from the room).
Rei tried to get us back on topic, "Look, Una has experienced, in a way, what we're all facing - extinction. Una knows better than any of us the cost if the Enemy wins, which is why she keeps fighting, I think."
Everyone nodded and fell silent for a bit then.
When Una walked in she saw everyone sitting in silence and hesitated, "Why is everyone looking so glum? Did someone die?"
Awkward looks were exchanged for a second.
"Oh no! It's Kiyoshi isn't! I knew I wouldn't be able to save him!" the tears came rushing right out...
As everyone jumped to correct her mistaken assumption I thought to myself - this is why she is our Emo Champion. She is Una, the last of her kind.
Narrator's Best Friend: The Machine God's Messenger
The Narrator's Best Friend Award goes to the character who most players agree consistently added great stuff to the story be it with NPC's or character choices through the entire season. This prestigious award is accompanied not only by the trophy emblem (right), but by 5, count them 5, of the coveted blue Never Gems. For the first time in history we have a draw in the voting, meaning this award will go to two characters. The second of the two honored recipients of the third ever Narrator's Best Friend Award is Moses, the metal messiah.There are two ways that one can potentially win this seasonal Award. Rei already demonstrated how it can be done by having an in-depth backstory that influences the plot, and a messed up psyche that creates dramatic moments in the game. In Moses' case, his backstory was pretty simple and his psyche is perhaps the healthiest in the bunch. The other way to win this award, then is to be a straight-forward mover and shaker when it comes to determining what happens in-game. Moses is definitely that. Early in this season it was his connection with the Rusty Nail Rogues that set up several sessions worth of adventure. It was partially his drive to follow the instructions in his dream that took the party across the ocean, and he was the one at the end who urged the return to Geneva Prime. The arc of this story has a great big Moses shaped thumb-print on it.
Which is why I was so excited to talk to him about what it was like to be an architect of world-changing events...
"Um, I don't know much about that," he modestly replied.
He'd been similarly deferent last time I interviewed him. Looking at his shiny new chassis, and foxy bitch, I knew better than to accept the humble act this time around.
Una had more to say on the subject, "Oh, Moses? He's a miracle worker. Literally, there have been more than one or two situations where we wouldn't have gotten out if it weren't for him."
Rei emphatically agreed, "I would follow Moses to the end of the world - and I have. Even off the world, come to think of it."
And his partner Zipporah? "He thinks he's following some kind of Machine God, but I say the Machine God is him!"
There was some awkward silence after that last part and Moses quickly discovered he had something to do in another room.
As usual Kiyoshi was the one to get things back to a serious tone. "Moses is wise to keep humble. We're not Gods - that's what our Kyo Tee Shee want us to think. We are servants, as for Moses, maybe he's a messenger. He certainly has a message for Katashi Blade and I intend to hear him deliver it."
There you have it - Moses: the Machine God's Messenger, and certainly the Narrator's Best Friend.
Narrator's Best Friend: The Girl With First Mind Eyes
The Narrator's Best Friend Award goes to the character who most players agree consistently added great stuff to the story be it with NPC's or character choices through the entire season. This prestigious award is accompanied not only by the trophy emblem (right), but by 5, count them 5, of the coveted blue Never Gems. For the first time in history we have a draw in the voting, meaning this award will go to two characters. The first of the two honored recipients of the third ever Narrator's Best Friend Award is Rei, the psionic scion.The red-eyed, leather-clad assassin easily belongs in this category because of the degree to which her backstory has always been out front. From the very first episode of the first season, clashes with Rei's family have provided interest and drama to the storyline, but in this season Rei really popped out. She met her creator, Inase Spark, with whom she'd been interacting via his journal during the second season. Her sister Aimi provided some of the most intense party conflicts of the season, and Rei herself heightened the party drama with her lies to Kiyoshi and eventual apparent betrayal of the party to the First Minds. I was thrilled to get to chat with Rei behind-the-scenes about her effect on the plot.
"I figure that every party has to have its 'troubled' character," she confided to me while sampling some of the vegetarian finger food our caterers provided. "What could be more troubled than a girl with a tenuous psychological hold on her sense of self who was a former assassin with nebulous ties to our enemies? If that isn't bad enough I make a point of defending my family even when they do things that are pretty horrible, and of course there is the fact that I am made with genetic material taken from the cosmic Enemy themselves. You'd have to try pretty hard to come up with someone more messed up than me."
Undoubtedly. But for all her unique qualities Rei can be remarkably humble.
"I don't really like my psychoses, however grand, to take center stage in the campaign too often. I mean, I'm quite happy just to make my amoral judgments in silence and get things done quietly - that's the way we assassins do things."
Unfortunately for Rei, her morality keeps getting dragged out into the spotlight by her party members who seem to think it's a big deal who she does and doesn't kill, and how. Moses in particular makes an issue of it.
"Rei is sometimes too much like her Kyo Tee Shee," he said. "Fortunately she is a little easier to dissuade from doing really horrible things, but you have to keep a lookout."
"Indeed," Kiyoshi readily agreed, "I have been worried for some time now about her reliability. Keibatsu hungers after her like the Enemy, she can teleport like the Hei-Shi, and she apparently is capable of masquerading as a First Mind. There are some heavy questions she will have to answer soon."
It may make some of her friends uncomfortable, but in terms of adding to the excitement of the story there can be no question that the ambiguities surrounding Rei are an asset.
"It's not like she's the only one in our group who has her dark moments," Una said by way of explanation.
I thought that summed it up well. The dark moments are the reason that Rei is one of our Narrator's Best Friends, and why everyone pays attention to the girl with First Mind eyes.
Kick-Ass Queen: A Ball of Fur and Fury
The Kick-Ass Queen Award goes to the character who most players agree did the most devastation in the coolest way through the entire season. This prestigious award is accompanied not only by the trophy emblem (right), but by 5, count them 5, of the coveted red Never Gems. The honored recipient of the third ever Kick-Ass Queen Award is High-Dive Bludgeon, the deadliest squirrel ever to crack a nut.I admit that when I was given this assignment I almost shit myself. It is an honor to get to interview the recipients of these awards, but High-Dive Bludgeon has a bit of a reputation. Being a mere 200 point NPC I was extremely nervous about the prospect of coming face to face with the mammal who put the wild in the word... um, wild. If half of the reports are true, then she is personally responsible for some radical, Oni-scale destruction. So I trembled more than a little when I was told that her agent agreed to the interview.
What can I say about High-Dive? She is a study in extremes. When she is active she is a metabolic force of nature. She moves so fast that she shatters the sound barrier. When she is calm, such as when a companion is rubbing her tummy, then she is like a limp towel. Incidentally, this entire interview took place in the context of an extended tummy-rub. When I tried speaking to her without the manual assist, her answers came back in speech too rapid to be comprehensible, though her close friends do a decent job of interpreting.
"Our relationship with High-Dive," Kiyoshi said cautiously, "is what I would describe as... explosive."
I encouraged him to continue.
"What I mean is, things in High-Dive's vicinity tend to explode. So far those things have not included any party members, so we keep her around."
"Plus," Moses added, "how are you gonna stop her?"
An apt point.
Rei was much more positive about her furry companion. "High-Dive's aggressive tendencies are very useful if carefully encouraged against the right targets. Personally, I consider her presence in our party as something akin to possessing a tactical nuke. When other people know you have one they tend to surrender really fast."
Una had been handed the tonic squirrel subject by this time to continue the rub-fest, so I asked her what she thought of the only other surviving Karian in the group. I was looking for the human interest angle on the story so I encouraged Una, a tragic figure herself, to give me some insight into the troubled psyche of this little squirrel that might explain her violent tendencies.
Una thought for a moment, "Nah, High-Dive just likes to blow shit up."
As for High-Dive herself, the only words she had for this interviewer were, "Did you bring me candy?"
An enigma? Or just one violent little rodent? Either way she is this season's Kick-Ass Queen. She is High-Dive Bludgeon: a ball of fur and fury.
One Small Answer
Quietly, Moses wakes up Zipporah early. She pops awake immediately with a little gasp and her hand goes out to him. He places it in his."Morning."
She blinks the last wisp of bleariness out of her eyes. "You've got that look."
He nods. "Yeah, I've got that look."
She sits ups. Now that she's awake, she's sort of got that look too.
Its so strange to be whole. To be made whole. Again. Broken and put back together by Una's tears. Which...always, she's got more of them. Healing tears. There's something there. But, as she said, he has that look.
"I told you about the Fire. As much as I understood, at least. And now we're here. We came here...I thought we were all dead. But then we're floating in the Bay, with Geneva Minor on the horizon...it has to be. I have to be here because of what the Fire told me. What the...what the Name told me." She nods. "And that means I have to go back to the city. I have to go back...where so many people died, and where everyone is going to want to kill me. I...I abandoned them, and things...got worse for them. I know it. I can try to tell them that it had to happen, that...that so much has happened since, that if I hadn't left, I wouldn't be here now, with the tiniest bit of hope that I can free them...that they'd catch me eventually, that...that I wouldn't have met you." He looks at her, then looks down, trying not to get derailed.
"I can tell them that, but I'll understand if they don't listen. And I have to...somehow...convince them to go...where the stars will fall. I don't even know where that is! I'm just hoping that...that I'll know, somehow, that it'll hit me, or else, we'll just be wandering around. That is, if anyone comes with me. That is, if...if I survive...meeting Katashi Blade.
He pauses. "I've been thinking a lot about him. I don't know hardly anything about him, but he's the head of Goshi. So I think about the Hei Shi, and how they can teleport now, and how - how they've conquered everything, it seems like. How there were Hei Shi on the Wandering Star, so he knows it's there, probably knows more than we do about the whole thing.
"I think about...someone who would be able to do all of that. Someone with that kind of...will. Someone who isn't happy until he has everything. Behind all of the evil that Goshi has done. And now I have to walk into his tower, and tell him, let the Mechified go. Let my people go. He's going to -"
She places a single finger over his lips, and waits until he looks up at her.
"Moses, I've been listening this whole time. I've heard all that you've heard for months now. I've spoken to the Dusk Sages, watched them die, watched you bind them. I've been to the darkness outside Karia, I've seen...horrible things, and wonderful things - the Emerald Isle, the bottom of the ocean!
"Nothing - nothing! - in what I've heard has made me think that this Blade can stop you. Do you know why?" Moses shakes his head. Now she gets to talk about why she's got that look. "Because of the Question. I already know the answer. Don't you? The question is life, and the answer is yes. The answer is yes. It has to be yes. First, because -" she looks away "because if its no, then all we do is for nothing, and everything will come to nothing, and there will be no one to remember it, to even cry over it. No one even to mourn. If the answer is no, then we're free, because the end will come, and then nothing after. And..."
"The...the other reason?"
She looks back to him, is blushing furiously. "Well, um. I." She bites her lip and takes his hand from around hers and places it low on her belly. Then gives him that look.
She counts to three while Moses looks at her, at his hand, then his eyes go wide.
She nods a small nod. "Yes."
Into The Final Season...
The Third Season has come to an end and the Heroes of Karia Vitalus Awards Ceremony has been held.In the category of Best Episode of Season Three the group once again broke gaming stereotypes by choosing an episode that contained no combat or action sequences: The Question. This episode stood out from the pack quite simply because it was the largest payoff in terms of exposition in the campaign. Questions that the party had been wanting the answers to since the beginning of the campaign were finally resolved. The Dusk Sages illuminated everyone as to the cosmic nature of the conflict they are involved in and set the party on a course which will either save everything that lives or end in disaster.
In the category of Favorite NPC of Season Three the voters were faced with a glut of choices. Many NPC's from previous seasons made appearances in this one, including early favorites like Aimi. However, the NPC who took the prize by a solid margin was one who has never actually
encountered the party in-game, a testimony to the rich interweaving stories we have going on through the blog. That NPC was the unflappable Anakarix sage Jin Kalys. Using his unfailing Nine-Branch Formal Logic, Jin Kalys and his companions were able to spark a dramatic resistance in the city of Stardown with the odd combination of a First Mind artifact and the last Vorax egg on Karia. We all hope that Jin Kalys has more memorable moments in his future.The player-characters also voted on awards for each other. The winners of these awards will be profiled in subsequent days. As we are now heading into the final season of this action-packed drama, we may not see another awards ceremony after this. Nothing remains, but to watch the exciting climax unfold...
Unlikely Alliances
The Clan-Record of Kennard Fiochmahr, Tale-Teller and Lore-Keeper of the Fiochmahr Clan
Three Weeks Before Midsummer
It's not what ye are, it's what ye're willin' ta die for, that's the thing. Most Gogajin weren't willin' to die for all that much, but loved a good natured fight like they was bloody married to it. 'Course, this was anythin' but a good natured fight.
It started all at once about three weeks after Grim and the lads had tossed that underhanded mechified over the walls. There weren't no warning, no announcement of intent, no speeches, and no time to do anything but stand there like a bunch o' asses: the blue-armoured Cheldrun appeared in little wisps of smoke and started layin' waste to the clanhall right quick. Afore we even knew what hit us, three lads had blue knives buried in their throats, and one of them Cheldrun refugees had one blooming from her heart like a pretty blue flower. She dropped dead, but the lads, Sages bless 'em, they knew that they were dying, but they weren't dead yet. Each one of them plowed into the crowd of blue-armoured figures and started brawlin' like the best of em even as they bled out.
That were what bought the rest of us enough time to rally and drive the devils back. Things got heated then, and all the clan was roused to arms, and out came old Grim shouting and hollering like a madman about thieves and murderers in his house. Their popping in and out in little wisps of smoke made it a harder brawl than it should have been, but we brought them down, and those what we didn't bring down vanished for good.
When it were over, three of our gogajin lads were dead, a score more wounded, and five of the Cheldrun refugees were dead, too.
That weren't the last attack, either. They came again the next night, and the next, and soon it were clear as a Zipsum on gostberries that they would not stop until every last one of the Cheldrun refugees we'd taken in was dead. Men, women, and children. Some nights we fought them off without any losses at all. Some nights three or four guards were found dead along with a refugee or two. It went on like that for a week afore Old Grim had enough.
That's where we are now, the whole clan and our Cheldrun guests marchin' to Blackfield to air our grievances. That's what Grim called it, 'airin' our grievances.' Grim says that it's not just us, that these blue-armoured folk are raidin' all across Gogajin lands. He says he's not heard of a village or clanhold that's not been attacked at least once. I don't know if that's true or not, but I hear we're not the only clan to be attacked this way, neither - rumour has it the Griolsa clan way out near Ben Hamor took a beatin' something fierce half a year back, and the Dilseacht clan got raided a month back for their store o' Whiterock and lost fifty people in the battle.
Grim says he means to unite the clans. Some doubt him, but he's got that fire in his eyes, and I've seen that before: that there is the look of a hero.
Sages help us all.
Three Weeks Before Midsummer
It's not what ye are, it's what ye're willin' ta die for, that's the thing. Most Gogajin weren't willin' to die for all that much, but loved a good natured fight like they was bloody married to it. 'Course, this was anythin' but a good natured fight.
It started all at once about three weeks after Grim and the lads had tossed that underhanded mechified over the walls. There weren't no warning, no announcement of intent, no speeches, and no time to do anything but stand there like a bunch o' asses: the blue-armoured Cheldrun appeared in little wisps of smoke and started layin' waste to the clanhall right quick. Afore we even knew what hit us, three lads had blue knives buried in their throats, and one of them Cheldrun refugees had one blooming from her heart like a pretty blue flower. She dropped dead, but the lads, Sages bless 'em, they knew that they were dying, but they weren't dead yet. Each one of them plowed into the crowd of blue-armoured figures and started brawlin' like the best of em even as they bled out.
That were what bought the rest of us enough time to rally and drive the devils back. Things got heated then, and all the clan was roused to arms, and out came old Grim shouting and hollering like a madman about thieves and murderers in his house. Their popping in and out in little wisps of smoke made it a harder brawl than it should have been, but we brought them down, and those what we didn't bring down vanished for good.
When it were over, three of our gogajin lads were dead, a score more wounded, and five of the Cheldrun refugees were dead, too.
That weren't the last attack, either. They came again the next night, and the next, and soon it were clear as a Zipsum on gostberries that they would not stop until every last one of the Cheldrun refugees we'd taken in was dead. Men, women, and children. Some nights we fought them off without any losses at all. Some nights three or four guards were found dead along with a refugee or two. It went on like that for a week afore Old Grim had enough.
That's where we are now, the whole clan and our Cheldrun guests marchin' to Blackfield to air our grievances. That's what Grim called it, 'airin' our grievances.' Grim says that it's not just us, that these blue-armoured folk are raidin' all across Gogajin lands. He says he's not heard of a village or clanhold that's not been attacked at least once. I don't know if that's true or not, but I hear we're not the only clan to be attacked this way, neither - rumour has it the Griolsa clan way out near Ben Hamor took a beatin' something fierce half a year back, and the Dilseacht clan got raided a month back for their store o' Whiterock and lost fifty people in the battle.
Grim says he means to unite the clans. Some doubt him, but he's got that fire in his eyes, and I've seen that before: that there is the look of a hero.
Sages help us all.
Prelude to the End of Season Three
A league under the waves, where no sunlight reaches, the Sea-Dragon people known as Sasarrans flitted from luminescent coral apartments to begin their patrols of the surface. The sacred obligation must never be permitted to lapse, even for a moment, into lackadaisical disinterest. Eternal vigilance was required of their whole people to contain the demons who create in order to consume.
Ceralon, a proud matriarch of her people, was not headed to the surface with the others. She swam with strength and purpose deeper into the coral city, headed for the sacred sanctuary, where all the matriarchs would confer. The departing patrol was a delicate rainbow of fronds, fluttering up toward the sunlight. She watched them as they went, proud of their dedication.
Ahead of her the sanctuary entrance yawned - a cavernous opening in the coral leading through twisting passages into the vast heart of the city. It was too sacred a local for common warriors, outsiders or men to enter, but even matriarchs like Ceralon felt a quickening of the heart when approaching it.
The others would want to have her wisdom concerning the strangers who passed from the East a few days ago. She had spent her whole rest-cycle contemplating the matter. It remained perplexing to her that anyone would desire to go to the Emerald Isle who was not a servant of the demons. However, she would shock the matriarchs today by declaring what she believed to be truth - the strangers were genuine. Perhaps events beyond our horizons are underway, she thought. The idea gave her shivers.
Whatever the reality, she would ask the gathered matriarchs to pray for the success of those strangers. Pray for the end of all demons everywhere. Yes, that would be a good prayer.
***
They first named it Shadowfang in the logging camps south of Geneva Prime. In a day and age when teleportation is real, communication is fast. So it was no surprise to find that news of this mysterious killer made it to all the rural outposts and logging camps between Epsis Four and Ithica. It became popular among the easily frightened Mechified laborers to blame any unexplained death on the Shadowfang. Most foremen, just shook their heads and tried to dispel unhelpful superstitions. There were all sorts of things in the jungle that could kill a man.
What was more disturbing than all the reports was the fact that Shadowfang was real and on the move. It was notoriously hard to get any reliable sightings of the beast, but members of a secretive information brokerage out of Marina had been paid quite well to keep track of it. Even they didn't learn much, but they tracked a pattern of violent killings, some by Jevumm, some with Cheldrun weapons, that appeared to be moving along the edges of wilderness toward the north. At best guesstimate it was now somewhere in the vicinity of the Wreck of the Bosporus and still moving.
Goshi had no interest, when informed of the matter. Just another sighting of the Enemy, they alleged, and used it as an argument for beefing up security. But someone on the Biomade Oversight Council was quite convinced otherwise. It appears to be some kind of Karian-Cheldrun hybrid, he wrote in the memo. We should bring it in if we can and study it for interesting genetic properties...
***
"Good Bye, my beloved Moon."
Those had been his words, carried on the wind over countless kilometers. She sang them and re-sang them in her heart and every time it was a song of such sorrow that no one could hear it without weeping. The Grand Chantry, her choir, the prophecies, Karia itself, could dissolve and become nothing for all she cared. Her love, her Mokuzai, was gone and nothing else mattered.
From the balcony of the highest tower in the Grand Chantry she nightly composed songs of rage at the heavens. She waited for the Wandering Star to rise - late as it had been doing every night recently, an omen of doom. She waited and when it came she unleashed everything within her, calling all the power of the winds, all the vastness of the sky to her obedience, begging them to tear the Wandering Star down.
Once Twilight was sent by the Elders to fetch her down since her shrieking was causing such a disturbance that people below were being sent into a panic. Twilight was nearly blown over the edge by her rage and no one had made the mistake of disturbing her mourning from that moment.
The Wandering Star winked at her malevolently from its spot just above the horizon.
"You took my mate from me," she screamed back at it. "But I swear by the Dusk Sages, by Karia, by the primal foundations of music itself that I shall outlive you! I will live to see the day that you never rise again."
Her screams echoed over the forest and the effect was satisfying, but no amount of screaming would ever close the wound in her soul.
***
Ryuunosuke did not believe he could ever hate anyone more than he hated Lord Daitokuji Ichirou. And Kiyoshi. He hated Kiyoshi and Ichirou. And the stupid First Minds. Fucking First Minds and their fucking artifacts. He hated First Mind artifacts and he especially hated Kiyoshi and Ichirou when they used their First Mind artifacts. Fuck fuck fucking hate. Like really loathe...
There was no way to describe his fight with Ichirou without using the words utter and humiliation - two words that Ryuunosuke also hated (unless they were being applied to someone else). It would have been bad enough to die in that duel, but Ichirou had allowed nothing of the sort. He systematically dismantled Ryuunosuke, broke his Katana in seven pieces, and refused to accept his surrender until he had pissed himself in front of the whole Silver Phoenix clan while begging for mercy.
Ichirou still insisted that he would face justice for all the members of the Silver Phoenix clan he had killed, especially Kiyoshi, but he refused to say precisely when that would take place. Until then Ryuunosuke had been dragged along, shackled, behind the caravan as they headed overland toward the city of Stardown. Ryuunosuke only stopped brooding on his inchoate rage when he first glimpsed the enormous purple energy dome - and then only for a moment.
They reached the city a few nights ago, entering to fanfare and celebrations. Stardown had become the hub of the resistance to Goshi almost overnight with the creation of the dome. A feat supposedly accomplished by a giant talking lizard - which just proved that the world had gone mad. Lord Daitokuji Ichirou immediately became a general in the resistance and began lending his tactical advice. From time to time he would appear in his enormous silvery Mecha with purple veins of stone all over its surface to impress the citizens and drum up support for the resistance.
Ryuunosuke thought the whole thing was absurd. He hoped Goshi would sweep in here and destroy all of these clowns with a sweep of their hand. He hated purple domes, and giant lizards, and the resistance. He hated it all. Most especially himself.
***
The silhouette of the Geneva Prime skyline receded into the distance at a very slow rate. Every last man, woman and child in this troop was a kill on sight target. So Matthew knew they couldn't draw attention to themselves. Slow and steady, that was the way to go unnoticed. So that was the way they traveled.
Looking back over the ragtag group of 65 or so individuals that were all that remained of the Cheldrun Freedom Coalition, he couldn't help but be very proud. What they were doing was terribly risky, it is true, but since all of their hideouts in the city were ferreted out there really was no place for them to go back to. Hence, they'd agreed to Matthew's proposal that they strike out overland and try to get to Stardown to join the resistance.
Matthew had plenty of worries. He worried that he was an incompetent leader. He worried that he would get all of these men and women killed pointlessly, after he had persuaded many of them to take actions which made an accommodated life impossible. He worried, more simply, that he would get lost on the way to Stardown - geography was never his strong suit. Or that they would arrive too late and Goshi would already have crushed the uprising there.
But he couldn't let his worries distract him now. There were miles to cross. There were mouths to feed. There were Hei-shi to kill. This last part was by far the easiest.
***
Deep in the slums of Geneva Prime battles continued to rage, but the war had long ago been lost. For Cog, a broken shell of a young Mechified with his first adult-sized implant, the war would never end, which meant that he would just go on losing and losing. His whole life was confined to that moment in the alley next to his collapsed tenement, weeping over the body of his mother. He could never escape it, and so he spent his time trying to take vengeance on the Goshi soldiers who brought the tenement crashing down.
His vengeance was the frustrated pointless vengeance of the impotent. He committed vandalism, or threw garbage at soldiers when their backs were turned. Once in a while he was daring enough to shout curses before running away. On most days this would just be ignored, but apparently he'd picked the wrong soldiers to fling garbage at today. They chased him down into an alley and pinned him against a brick wall. One pulled out a military knife and the other joked about practicing cybernetic surgery.
Cog closed his eyes before the pain started. He gritted his teeth, trying not to scream, but it was futile when the knife dug into his arm. They laughed as his adolescent voice cracked when he shouted.
Then, suddenly, they were dead. Cog opened his eyes to see both men with wide eyes. A 3 meter length of rebar had gone through the ear of one and out the neck of the other. They collapsed and the pain in Cog's arm decreased.
He had heard of a hero lurking in the streets of the city. The Bronze God they called him. Cog looked to the end of the alley and saw a figure retreating around the corner. Could it be him?
***
Rumors suggested that one could see the whole of Karia from the top floor of the Goshi Tower. It wasn't true, but Katashi Blade had other ways of keeping tabs on things happening far away. It didn't stop him from peering out the panoramic windows up here in appreciation. Who can say what he saw, but whatever it was he could not have missed the landscape indelibly marked with his hand.
Behind him, Sever and Stitch shifted their weight back and forth uneasily. The Executor was prone to these long moments of silence and it was extremely unsettling. Eventually, Sever couldn't keep it in any longer.
"We really don't know where she is, Executor."
Silence.
"We've checked everywhere. We would have sworn she'd come to us at some point. Maybe she really did die when the Rodan sank."
Silence.
"Anyway, if she's incompetent or a traitor we'll deal with her in our customary way. Just because she's our sister don't me we love her..."
"much." Stitch added helpfully.
Blade made no motion to respond while the brothers kept on prattling in their own defense. Eventually, he cut them off.
"Aimi is most definitely alive, and if you two knew about it you couldn't hide it from me anyway. If you find her, bring her to me. Otherwise, leave me alone."
They both headed for the exit as fast as they could. On the way out Sever asked over his shoulder, "So we're good then?"
The Executor's look was icy, "You two aren't creative enough to betray me. Get out."
***
Far higher than Goshi Tower, from a porthole under the wing of Sennin, Julian looked at Karia Vitalus. From this distance it was a huge blue disk, filling most of his vision. Still, it meant that everything he had ever known was incomprehensibly tiny, overall. A disturbing realization.
He tried to express this to Tara, but he wasn't a very eloquent person, and it was difficult to stay on topic when she was quivering and balling like she was right now. Something about nearly everyone dying and space being a horrible dark place and there being too much blood for her to ever erase from her mind.
When she gets in these moods, she's not very uplifting, he thought.
It was true that the experience of the Rusty Nail Rogues in space had been less than glamorous, and more than a little harrowing. Even now, they drifted without power a short distance from the Wandering Star, hundreds of kilometers above the ground, when at any moment a terrifying Oni or thousands of mutated eyeless might pore out of the gaping crater Moses had created. Presumably Kiyoshi would turn the engines on soon and they would go home. At least Julian hoped so.
The planet is such a small place. I never want to see it like this again.
***
As for Karia herself? The words of the Dusk Sage kept rippling through her thoughts... there is no Peace.
Her fragile little self was wounded to the core by such a pronouncement. She felt the emptiness where her chosen soul should have been. She felt the edges unraveling and knew the horrible truth of the saying. There is no Peace.
She wanted to know the answer. Every blade of grass and pebble of sand quivered in anticipation of the climax of the cosmic drama, but once answered there would be no more mystery. Would the absence of mystery feel like the death of Mokuzai? Like a hole collapsing at the edges and dragging meaning and hope with it into the abyss?
There is no Peace. Karia did not like this answer at all. Not one little bit.
Ceralon, a proud matriarch of her people, was not headed to the surface with the others. She swam with strength and purpose deeper into the coral city, headed for the sacred sanctuary, where all the matriarchs would confer. The departing patrol was a delicate rainbow of fronds, fluttering up toward the sunlight. She watched them as they went, proud of their dedication.
Ahead of her the sanctuary entrance yawned - a cavernous opening in the coral leading through twisting passages into the vast heart of the city. It was too sacred a local for common warriors, outsiders or men to enter, but even matriarchs like Ceralon felt a quickening of the heart when approaching it.
The others would want to have her wisdom concerning the strangers who passed from the East a few days ago. She had spent her whole rest-cycle contemplating the matter. It remained perplexing to her that anyone would desire to go to the Emerald Isle who was not a servant of the demons. However, she would shock the matriarchs today by declaring what she believed to be truth - the strangers were genuine. Perhaps events beyond our horizons are underway, she thought. The idea gave her shivers.
Whatever the reality, she would ask the gathered matriarchs to pray for the success of those strangers. Pray for the end of all demons everywhere. Yes, that would be a good prayer.
***
They first named it Shadowfang in the logging camps south of Geneva Prime. In a day and age when teleportation is real, communication is fast. So it was no surprise to find that news of this mysterious killer made it to all the rural outposts and logging camps between Epsis Four and Ithica. It became popular among the easily frightened Mechified laborers to blame any unexplained death on the Shadowfang. Most foremen, just shook their heads and tried to dispel unhelpful superstitions. There were all sorts of things in the jungle that could kill a man.
What was more disturbing than all the reports was the fact that Shadowfang was real and on the move. It was notoriously hard to get any reliable sightings of the beast, but members of a secretive information brokerage out of Marina had been paid quite well to keep track of it. Even they didn't learn much, but they tracked a pattern of violent killings, some by Jevumm, some with Cheldrun weapons, that appeared to be moving along the edges of wilderness toward the north. At best guesstimate it was now somewhere in the vicinity of the Wreck of the Bosporus and still moving.
Goshi had no interest, when informed of the matter. Just another sighting of the Enemy, they alleged, and used it as an argument for beefing up security. But someone on the Biomade Oversight Council was quite convinced otherwise. It appears to be some kind of Karian-Cheldrun hybrid, he wrote in the memo. We should bring it in if we can and study it for interesting genetic properties...
***
"Good Bye, my beloved Moon."
Those had been his words, carried on the wind over countless kilometers. She sang them and re-sang them in her heart and every time it was a song of such sorrow that no one could hear it without weeping. The Grand Chantry, her choir, the prophecies, Karia itself, could dissolve and become nothing for all she cared. Her love, her Mokuzai, was gone and nothing else mattered.
From the balcony of the highest tower in the Grand Chantry she nightly composed songs of rage at the heavens. She waited for the Wandering Star to rise - late as it had been doing every night recently, an omen of doom. She waited and when it came she unleashed everything within her, calling all the power of the winds, all the vastness of the sky to her obedience, begging them to tear the Wandering Star down.
Once Twilight was sent by the Elders to fetch her down since her shrieking was causing such a disturbance that people below were being sent into a panic. Twilight was nearly blown over the edge by her rage and no one had made the mistake of disturbing her mourning from that moment.
The Wandering Star winked at her malevolently from its spot just above the horizon.
"You took my mate from me," she screamed back at it. "But I swear by the Dusk Sages, by Karia, by the primal foundations of music itself that I shall outlive you! I will live to see the day that you never rise again."
Her screams echoed over the forest and the effect was satisfying, but no amount of screaming would ever close the wound in her soul.
***
Ryuunosuke did not believe he could ever hate anyone more than he hated Lord Daitokuji Ichirou. And Kiyoshi. He hated Kiyoshi and Ichirou. And the stupid First Minds. Fucking First Minds and their fucking artifacts. He hated First Mind artifacts and he especially hated Kiyoshi and Ichirou when they used their First Mind artifacts. Fuck fuck fucking hate. Like really loathe...
There was no way to describe his fight with Ichirou without using the words utter and humiliation - two words that Ryuunosuke also hated (unless they were being applied to someone else). It would have been bad enough to die in that duel, but Ichirou had allowed nothing of the sort. He systematically dismantled Ryuunosuke, broke his Katana in seven pieces, and refused to accept his surrender until he had pissed himself in front of the whole Silver Phoenix clan while begging for mercy.
Ichirou still insisted that he would face justice for all the members of the Silver Phoenix clan he had killed, especially Kiyoshi, but he refused to say precisely when that would take place. Until then Ryuunosuke had been dragged along, shackled, behind the caravan as they headed overland toward the city of Stardown. Ryuunosuke only stopped brooding on his inchoate rage when he first glimpsed the enormous purple energy dome - and then only for a moment.
They reached the city a few nights ago, entering to fanfare and celebrations. Stardown had become the hub of the resistance to Goshi almost overnight with the creation of the dome. A feat supposedly accomplished by a giant talking lizard - which just proved that the world had gone mad. Lord Daitokuji Ichirou immediately became a general in the resistance and began lending his tactical advice. From time to time he would appear in his enormous silvery Mecha with purple veins of stone all over its surface to impress the citizens and drum up support for the resistance.
Ryuunosuke thought the whole thing was absurd. He hoped Goshi would sweep in here and destroy all of these clowns with a sweep of their hand. He hated purple domes, and giant lizards, and the resistance. He hated it all. Most especially himself.
***
The silhouette of the Geneva Prime skyline receded into the distance at a very slow rate. Every last man, woman and child in this troop was a kill on sight target. So Matthew knew they couldn't draw attention to themselves. Slow and steady, that was the way to go unnoticed. So that was the way they traveled.
Looking back over the ragtag group of 65 or so individuals that were all that remained of the Cheldrun Freedom Coalition, he couldn't help but be very proud. What they were doing was terribly risky, it is true, but since all of their hideouts in the city were ferreted out there really was no place for them to go back to. Hence, they'd agreed to Matthew's proposal that they strike out overland and try to get to Stardown to join the resistance.
Matthew had plenty of worries. He worried that he was an incompetent leader. He worried that he would get all of these men and women killed pointlessly, after he had persuaded many of them to take actions which made an accommodated life impossible. He worried, more simply, that he would get lost on the way to Stardown - geography was never his strong suit. Or that they would arrive too late and Goshi would already have crushed the uprising there.
But he couldn't let his worries distract him now. There were miles to cross. There were mouths to feed. There were Hei-shi to kill. This last part was by far the easiest.
***
Deep in the slums of Geneva Prime battles continued to rage, but the war had long ago been lost. For Cog, a broken shell of a young Mechified with his first adult-sized implant, the war would never end, which meant that he would just go on losing and losing. His whole life was confined to that moment in the alley next to his collapsed tenement, weeping over the body of his mother. He could never escape it, and so he spent his time trying to take vengeance on the Goshi soldiers who brought the tenement crashing down.
His vengeance was the frustrated pointless vengeance of the impotent. He committed vandalism, or threw garbage at soldiers when their backs were turned. Once in a while he was daring enough to shout curses before running away. On most days this would just be ignored, but apparently he'd picked the wrong soldiers to fling garbage at today. They chased him down into an alley and pinned him against a brick wall. One pulled out a military knife and the other joked about practicing cybernetic surgery.
Cog closed his eyes before the pain started. He gritted his teeth, trying not to scream, but it was futile when the knife dug into his arm. They laughed as his adolescent voice cracked when he shouted.
Then, suddenly, they were dead. Cog opened his eyes to see both men with wide eyes. A 3 meter length of rebar had gone through the ear of one and out the neck of the other. They collapsed and the pain in Cog's arm decreased.
He had heard of a hero lurking in the streets of the city. The Bronze God they called him. Cog looked to the end of the alley and saw a figure retreating around the corner. Could it be him?
***
Rumors suggested that one could see the whole of Karia from the top floor of the Goshi Tower. It wasn't true, but Katashi Blade had other ways of keeping tabs on things happening far away. It didn't stop him from peering out the panoramic windows up here in appreciation. Who can say what he saw, but whatever it was he could not have missed the landscape indelibly marked with his hand.
Behind him, Sever and Stitch shifted their weight back and forth uneasily. The Executor was prone to these long moments of silence and it was extremely unsettling. Eventually, Sever couldn't keep it in any longer.
"We really don't know where she is, Executor."
Silence.
"We've checked everywhere. We would have sworn she'd come to us at some point. Maybe she really did die when the Rodan sank."
Silence.
"Anyway, if she's incompetent or a traitor we'll deal with her in our customary way. Just because she's our sister don't me we love her..."
"much." Stitch added helpfully.
Blade made no motion to respond while the brothers kept on prattling in their own defense. Eventually, he cut them off.
"Aimi is most definitely alive, and if you two knew about it you couldn't hide it from me anyway. If you find her, bring her to me. Otherwise, leave me alone."
They both headed for the exit as fast as they could. On the way out Sever asked over his shoulder, "So we're good then?"
The Executor's look was icy, "You two aren't creative enough to betray me. Get out."
***
Far higher than Goshi Tower, from a porthole under the wing of Sennin, Julian looked at Karia Vitalus. From this distance it was a huge blue disk, filling most of his vision. Still, it meant that everything he had ever known was incomprehensibly tiny, overall. A disturbing realization.
He tried to express this to Tara, but he wasn't a very eloquent person, and it was difficult to stay on topic when she was quivering and balling like she was right now. Something about nearly everyone dying and space being a horrible dark place and there being too much blood for her to ever erase from her mind.
When she gets in these moods, she's not very uplifting, he thought.
It was true that the experience of the Rusty Nail Rogues in space had been less than glamorous, and more than a little harrowing. Even now, they drifted without power a short distance from the Wandering Star, hundreds of kilometers above the ground, when at any moment a terrifying Oni or thousands of mutated eyeless might pore out of the gaping crater Moses had created. Presumably Kiyoshi would turn the engines on soon and they would go home. At least Julian hoped so.
The planet is such a small place. I never want to see it like this again.
***
As for Karia herself? The words of the Dusk Sage kept rippling through her thoughts... there is no Peace.
Her fragile little self was wounded to the core by such a pronouncement. She felt the emptiness where her chosen soul should have been. She felt the edges unraveling and knew the horrible truth of the saying. There is no Peace.
She wanted to know the answer. Every blade of grass and pebble of sand quivered in anticipation of the climax of the cosmic drama, but once answered there would be no more mystery. Would the absence of mystery feel like the death of Mokuzai? Like a hole collapsing at the edges and dragging meaning and hope with it into the abyss?
There is no Peace. Karia did not like this answer at all. Not one little bit.
The Troubles
The Troubles. That's what they called it. Or that's what the Fiochmahr clan called it, anyhow, and it seemed a decent enough name for the last few years. Of course, things hadn't been altogether untroubled before that. Not since two hundred years previous, when the Fiochmahr clan had seen its very last Dusk Sage. They'd called him the Ash-Faced One. Cheeky bastard, he was; walked right off out of the clanhold with nary a ceremony of the parting but just a distant sort of look and a walking down the mountain. He'd faded into the dusk, and neither song nor legend had spoken of the passage of him or any other Dusk Sage since.
But tonight wasn't a night for brooding on the past, or feeling sorry for yourself. Tonight was a night for celebration! Tonight, the famous mead of the Fiochmahr clan was open for one and all. Four days previous, the Fiochmahr clan had destroyed the Cheldrun logging expedition sent out from some steel city or another. Pepsid Five, or something like that. Surely that was as good a cause for celebration as any. So old Grim Fiochmahr, Head of the Fiochmahr clan, had declared a celebration, and they'd been partying nonstop ever since. After all, it wasn't every day you put an end to the Cheldrun logging operations in your area, and if the guards had seemed only half hearted at best, well, they just weren't real fighters like the Gogajin were.
Old Grim hadn't always been the head, of course, but the tale he'd told of his escape from the mines of a dark Cheldrun city, and his rescue of a whole group of their women had gone a long way towards boosting his popularity in the clan, even if none other of his companions in the mines had made it out of Geneva Prime with him. Diarmaid, Adar, Rogan, Donald, Baldur, these were the new heroes of the clan. And as for old Grim, well, he had ne always been Old Grim. The mines, and what had happened after, they'd changed him. Aged him before his time, maybe. Or maybe it was that age didn't cling so tightly to his shoulders as he felt it, but he felt it. At least, that was the story everyone told, though it likely found its source in younger minds than his. Two children on the brink of their teenaged exile were particular suspects, but no one could prove their involvement in the starting of the rumour, and the name had caught on regardless. Old Grim it was.
The mead-hall was full of Gogajin, male and female alike, each of them eager to get roaring drunk as quickly as possible. They were seated at a series of long wooden benches that filled most of the room, and already the mead was flowing freely. Boisterous does not begin to describe a room full of partying Gogajin: a few good natured fights broke out, and a few couples decided that their time would be better spent in a dark corner with each other than at the table with the others, and all that was before the boasting competition began. The Fiochmahr clan had a tradition, you see: two Gogajin would tell increasingly wild and unbelievable boasts, and whoever it was that told the wildest, most unbelievable one, well, he or she would have to go out and try to accomplish it. Usually it ended in hangovers and a Gogajin sleeping with someone they wouldn't ordinarily have been inclined to, but a few weeks back, it had brought about the raid on the logging camp, and tonight, well, tonight it was a good bet it was going to...
The partying came to a sudden halt (though the couples in the dark corners didn't bother to stop) when a pair of Gogajin slammed open the doors to the mead-hall, with a group of Cheldrun in tow. They were badly emaciated, half starved, and looked more than halfway dead. About a dozen of them came in - a middle-aged man at their head, wearing the tattered remains of what had probably once been a fine silk kimono - and many more of them were crowded around the entrance.
Silence hung heavily in the air for a long moment before a young Gogajin - only just returned from his adolescent exile - rose to his feet and shouted, "What kind of fucked up shite is this!?"
"You shut your mouth, Hagan!" a middle-aged female Gogajin bellowed back.
A number of other Gogajin joined in then, until finally Grim rose to his feet and banged the table in front of him with an enormous fist. "ALL OF YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTHES!" he bellowed.
Silence.
"Right. You two," he looked to the two Gogajin leading the Cheldrun. "What kind of fucked up shite is this?"
One of the two Gogajin spoke up. "They showed theirselves at the gate a bare few moments ago, askin' fer food and water, uh, Grim."
Grim looked to the Cheldrun. "I wist they ne be speaken Gogajin?" he asked, his regional accent coming to the fore as he spoke.
The middle-aged male Cheldrun in the tattered kimono stepped forward. "Your pardon, sir, but I do."
Grim looked at the man. "... Well, what do ye want, then? Ye must be either very brave or very stupid to come here. Qwich is it?"
"I am Ishikawa Tetsuro of the Ruby Hawk Clan," the Cheldrun said. "My companions and I are... exiles. Refugees. There is no place for us in Katashi Blade's new regime, and we thought it better to try our luck in the wilderness than to die at the hands of a Goshi Assassin, or a bounty hunter... please, sir, we have nowhere else to go. We are hungry, we are tired, and many of us are sick." He swallowed, and what he said next had the feel of an old tree toppling over: "Will you help us?"
Grim took a long moment to think about that, weighing it out in his mind. Of course, in the end, looking at the Cheldrun all helpless and starving-like, there was only one conclusion he could have reached: "... Aye. Ye clepen for me help, and I hear ye." He rose up to his full, massively muscled height. "All right, listen here! Listen here! These wights be safe with kith and kin tonight. None harm nor hounde them here on pain of a beatin' the likes o which you none never seen!"
The other Gogajin shrugged. One of them thought about shouting, "Ah, fuck you Grim!" but thought better of it at the last moment. The Cheldrun did look pretty desperate, after all.
Grim gestured, and a pair of Gogajin, a wer and wyf (a male and a female, that is), came forward and led the Cheldrun away to the Clanhold's guest quarters so as they could stow their things before they came to join the feast.
The feast went on.
------------------------
Later, when the shadows had had faded into gloom, the moon had set, and the only sounds were the frantic scrabblings and brayings of donkeysex in the hall, and the peace of the predawn hours hung heavily over the land, there came a stranger to the Fiochmahr clanhold. Stranger than even the Cheldrun refugees. A mechified. He came creeping through the corridors, almost his entire body made of metal save his face and his middle, the sounds in the hall masking the clunk-clunk-clunk of his footsteps. His eyes had been replaced with gleaming red lenses, and they allowed his vision access to the infrared: it was with this that he tracked his prey.
Gently, ever so gently, he pushed open the large wooden door that led into the room where his target slept. A bounty hunter he was, and a good one. He always got his man, or so they said. This man, well, they'd specified dead or alive, and he figured that dead would be easier than dragging him back through the wilderness, so once he was sure that the middle-aged Cheldrun sleeping on the bed in the tattered Kimono was in fact Ishikawa Tetsuro of the Ruby Hawk Clan, Winston reached out with his right hand and placed it almost gently over the sleeping man's heart.
Then he reached over with his left hand and flipped the switch to activate the pneumatic spike. Or would have, if a grip as strong as steel itself hadn't caught his hand mid-flight.
Winston looked up in alarm. The occupants of the beds around Ishikawa Tetsuro's were not asleep at all, but awake and very very angry.
An angry looking Gogajin stepped forward and glared poor Winston in the face. "I given these wights safety here with kith and kin," he cracked his knuckles, "And unfortunate fer you, I meant it."
An hour later, three Gogajin tossed the bruised and battered body of Winston the Mechified over the walls of the clanhold, and down he tumbled into the brush with the long, loud, trailing clatter of metal sliding down two hundred yards of loose rock.
Grim dusted off his hands, wiped the sweat off his brow, and went back to bed, satisfied that that was the end of it.
But the troubles were only just beginning.
But tonight wasn't a night for brooding on the past, or feeling sorry for yourself. Tonight was a night for celebration! Tonight, the famous mead of the Fiochmahr clan was open for one and all. Four days previous, the Fiochmahr clan had destroyed the Cheldrun logging expedition sent out from some steel city or another. Pepsid Five, or something like that. Surely that was as good a cause for celebration as any. So old Grim Fiochmahr, Head of the Fiochmahr clan, had declared a celebration, and they'd been partying nonstop ever since. After all, it wasn't every day you put an end to the Cheldrun logging operations in your area, and if the guards had seemed only half hearted at best, well, they just weren't real fighters like the Gogajin were.
Old Grim hadn't always been the head, of course, but the tale he'd told of his escape from the mines of a dark Cheldrun city, and his rescue of a whole group of their women had gone a long way towards boosting his popularity in the clan, even if none other of his companions in the mines had made it out of Geneva Prime with him. Diarmaid, Adar, Rogan, Donald, Baldur, these were the new heroes of the clan. And as for old Grim, well, he had ne always been Old Grim. The mines, and what had happened after, they'd changed him. Aged him before his time, maybe. Or maybe it was that age didn't cling so tightly to his shoulders as he felt it, but he felt it. At least, that was the story everyone told, though it likely found its source in younger minds than his. Two children on the brink of their teenaged exile were particular suspects, but no one could prove their involvement in the starting of the rumour, and the name had caught on regardless. Old Grim it was.
The mead-hall was full of Gogajin, male and female alike, each of them eager to get roaring drunk as quickly as possible. They were seated at a series of long wooden benches that filled most of the room, and already the mead was flowing freely. Boisterous does not begin to describe a room full of partying Gogajin: a few good natured fights broke out, and a few couples decided that their time would be better spent in a dark corner with each other than at the table with the others, and all that was before the boasting competition began. The Fiochmahr clan had a tradition, you see: two Gogajin would tell increasingly wild and unbelievable boasts, and whoever it was that told the wildest, most unbelievable one, well, he or she would have to go out and try to accomplish it. Usually it ended in hangovers and a Gogajin sleeping with someone they wouldn't ordinarily have been inclined to, but a few weeks back, it had brought about the raid on the logging camp, and tonight, well, tonight it was a good bet it was going to...
The partying came to a sudden halt (though the couples in the dark corners didn't bother to stop) when a pair of Gogajin slammed open the doors to the mead-hall, with a group of Cheldrun in tow. They were badly emaciated, half starved, and looked more than halfway dead. About a dozen of them came in - a middle-aged man at their head, wearing the tattered remains of what had probably once been a fine silk kimono - and many more of them were crowded around the entrance.
Silence hung heavily in the air for a long moment before a young Gogajin - only just returned from his adolescent exile - rose to his feet and shouted, "What kind of fucked up shite is this!?"
"You shut your mouth, Hagan!" a middle-aged female Gogajin bellowed back.
A number of other Gogajin joined in then, until finally Grim rose to his feet and banged the table in front of him with an enormous fist. "ALL OF YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTHES!" he bellowed.
Silence.
"Right. You two," he looked to the two Gogajin leading the Cheldrun. "What kind of fucked up shite is this?"
One of the two Gogajin spoke up. "They showed theirselves at the gate a bare few moments ago, askin' fer food and water, uh, Grim."
Grim looked to the Cheldrun. "I wist they ne be speaken Gogajin?" he asked, his regional accent coming to the fore as he spoke.
The middle-aged male Cheldrun in the tattered kimono stepped forward. "Your pardon, sir, but I do."
Grim looked at the man. "... Well, what do ye want, then? Ye must be either very brave or very stupid to come here. Qwich is it?"
"I am Ishikawa Tetsuro of the Ruby Hawk Clan," the Cheldrun said. "My companions and I are... exiles. Refugees. There is no place for us in Katashi Blade's new regime, and we thought it better to try our luck in the wilderness than to die at the hands of a Goshi Assassin, or a bounty hunter... please, sir, we have nowhere else to go. We are hungry, we are tired, and many of us are sick." He swallowed, and what he said next had the feel of an old tree toppling over: "Will you help us?"
Grim took a long moment to think about that, weighing it out in his mind. Of course, in the end, looking at the Cheldrun all helpless and starving-like, there was only one conclusion he could have reached: "... Aye. Ye clepen for me help, and I hear ye." He rose up to his full, massively muscled height. "All right, listen here! Listen here! These wights be safe with kith and kin tonight. None harm nor hounde them here on pain of a beatin' the likes o which you none never seen!"
The other Gogajin shrugged. One of them thought about shouting, "Ah, fuck you Grim!" but thought better of it at the last moment. The Cheldrun did look pretty desperate, after all.
Grim gestured, and a pair of Gogajin, a wer and wyf (a male and a female, that is), came forward and led the Cheldrun away to the Clanhold's guest quarters so as they could stow their things before they came to join the feast.
The feast went on.
------------------------
Later, when the shadows had had faded into gloom, the moon had set, and the only sounds were the frantic scrabblings and brayings of donkeysex in the hall, and the peace of the predawn hours hung heavily over the land, there came a stranger to the Fiochmahr clanhold. Stranger than even the Cheldrun refugees. A mechified. He came creeping through the corridors, almost his entire body made of metal save his face and his middle, the sounds in the hall masking the clunk-clunk-clunk of his footsteps. His eyes had been replaced with gleaming red lenses, and they allowed his vision access to the infrared: it was with this that he tracked his prey.
Gently, ever so gently, he pushed open the large wooden door that led into the room where his target slept. A bounty hunter he was, and a good one. He always got his man, or so they said. This man, well, they'd specified dead or alive, and he figured that dead would be easier than dragging him back through the wilderness, so once he was sure that the middle-aged Cheldrun sleeping on the bed in the tattered Kimono was in fact Ishikawa Tetsuro of the Ruby Hawk Clan, Winston reached out with his right hand and placed it almost gently over the sleeping man's heart.
Then he reached over with his left hand and flipped the switch to activate the pneumatic spike. Or would have, if a grip as strong as steel itself hadn't caught his hand mid-flight.
Winston looked up in alarm. The occupants of the beds around Ishikawa Tetsuro's were not asleep at all, but awake and very very angry.
An angry looking Gogajin stepped forward and glared poor Winston in the face. "I given these wights safety here with kith and kin," he cracked his knuckles, "And unfortunate fer you, I meant it."
An hour later, three Gogajin tossed the bruised and battered body of Winston the Mechified over the walls of the clanhold, and down he tumbled into the brush with the long, loud, trailing clatter of metal sliding down two hundred yards of loose rock.
Grim dusted off his hands, wiped the sweat off his brow, and went back to bed, satisfied that that was the end of it.
But the troubles were only just beginning.
There Is No Peace
The man with the oily black hair and fondness for lace had been very persuasive.
Lotus thought of herself as a top-notch security officer and her position in the chain of command for the Omexon branch of Goshi Mining Corporation confirmed such an appraisal, but she also could not deny the fact that she had just defied several important directives by cooperating with that alarmingly persuasive man. His request had been ludicrous, now that she thought about it, but at the time it had seemed as normal as breathing. He'd marched in the front doors of a high security facility without clearances and yet been permitted every step of the way to go further without being harmed. He had strutted (yes strut was the word) directly to her station at the disLocator monitors and he'd asked, in a very polite fashion, to be escorted by a squad of Hei-Shi to coordinates that... well let's face it, the coordinates were ridiculous.
But she hadn't resisted him anymore than the guards posted between the entrance and her desk had done. She nodded, she even (shudder) giggled girlishly, and she did exactly as he requested.
As the squad of Hei-Shi disappeared taking the persuasive man with them in a swirl of smoke, she looked down at her monitor. Yep. They'd gone thousands of kilometers to the West. They were somewhere in the middle of an uncharted ocean. Weird.
***
Kijuuki was as happy as a kitten in a string factory. This island was full of the Mana-Beings and many of them would do nothing but flee to defend themselves. She could not remember ever being so full of shining glory, before. Of course, she could not remember very much - part of the curse of being a Kyo-Tee-Shee, yesterday is nearly as indecipherable as tomorrow. Nor was she really full. True she had a glut of the beautiful light bursting through her every pore, but she never seemed to tire of the consuming. The consuming, in fact, became more of an obsession with each delicious morsel.
The One Who Unravels Mysteries had been wrong. He had created Kijuuki and her siblings and bound them in mysterious ways only he could unravel to the Kata-bearers, the God's of Ben Hamor, the Scions of Karia, the Cosmic Incarnation of the Answer to the Question of the All. Yes, this last title was sufficiently obnoxious to be an accurate representation of these beings. She and her siblings had been bound to them, believing that they could ride them to a cataract of Mana that would come along the timestream, but her own mount had been destroyed prematurely. It turned out that waiting for the cataract was a waste of time, because these Mana-beings were right here, now - and they were deliciously passive.
Not all of the Mana-beings were passive, however. Sometimes, Kijuuki encountered one of the beings she now referred to in her mental monologue as the "Dark Ones". The Dark Ones were Mana-beings, delectable in appearance, but overwhelmingly powerful. She avoided them assiduously, because they controlled her as surely as gravity determines the orbit of a planet, if she got too close. It was good, she reflected, that most of the Mana-beings did not resist, for they would be hard to eat if they all became Dark Ones.
She thought this while her beak was buried half way in the chest of a Mana-being sucking out delicious rainbow glory like a milkshake through a straw. The Mana-being raised its head, looking her in the eyes, and its expression made her hesitate.
"Kijuuki?" it said. "You are free?"
She refrained from pointing out the obviousness of this remark.
"Then Mokuzai is dead and all of Karia must mourn. The Answer moves closer to revelation. The Question is asked. Mokuzai is dead. There is no peace."
As he said this last thing, his mask caved in and she sucked up every delirious drop of Mana, until he was nothing at all.
She lay still for a moment while the All spun around her. She was intoxicated. She grinned idiotically. She heard someone coming, but she didn't care enough to check who it was.
***
Nero arrived on the Emerald Isle in a whirl of smoke, near the apex. Immediately behind him, a massive column of White Rock in the shape of a flame towered up to the sky. A magnificent omen that he was once again on the right path.
Oh, Spark. You doddering fool. Your mind was a cracked and rotten egg by the time I got to it, but it still contained more information than even you realized.
The Hei-Shi accompanying him looked around blankly for a moment, but Nero reasserted his control over them as easily as clenching his fist. They were soon forging ahead in every direction, through the jungle, teleporting to cover more ground, and reporting back at regular intervals. He would know the layout of the island in a few minutes. Some of his Hei-Shi did not report back, which let Nero know that the island was not a meek paradise, but it had a sting.
Then, one of his cobalt blue minions reappeared with a shocked expression on his face... His words were inarticulate, but his mental images were crystalline. He had seen something beautiful being consumed. The Hei-Shi had no way to know what it was, but he had instinctually recoiled at the sight.
"Take me," Nero commanded.
Nero arrived in time to see an enormous purple crane drowsily pecking at the shriveled remains of a... Inase Spark had called them Initiators: animate, non-living tools of the universe. A sudden cold rage came over him. He fell upon the crane in a flurry of balletic violence. Hovering knives sprung out of his coat and pinned the crane through the wings to the ground. His own fists and knees followed a split second after. As he struck he cursed it...
"You...vile...parasite! You have transgressed! This is a God you have destroyed..."
Kijuuki was sure she was hallucinating. Too much Mana consumed too quickly. This man was one of the Children of Steel. He did not belong on this island... except his eyes were so familiar. Those eyes compelled her to speak.
"Not Gods... Mana-beings... this one said," she wasn't precisely sure why she felt the need to repeat it, "this one said that there is no peace."
Nero's eyes narrowed, occluding the white, turning them to pools of blood. He gripped the bird's head pulling it intimately close to his mouth.
"No," he whispered, "not for you. For you there will never be peace again."
With that, he tore the crane apart, piece by piece, and ate it. It felt magnificent.
Lotus thought of herself as a top-notch security officer and her position in the chain of command for the Omexon branch of Goshi Mining Corporation confirmed such an appraisal, but she also could not deny the fact that she had just defied several important directives by cooperating with that alarmingly persuasive man. His request had been ludicrous, now that she thought about it, but at the time it had seemed as normal as breathing. He'd marched in the front doors of a high security facility without clearances and yet been permitted every step of the way to go further without being harmed. He had strutted (yes strut was the word) directly to her station at the disLocator monitors and he'd asked, in a very polite fashion, to be escorted by a squad of Hei-Shi to coordinates that... well let's face it, the coordinates were ridiculous.
But she hadn't resisted him anymore than the guards posted between the entrance and her desk had done. She nodded, she even (shudder) giggled girlishly, and she did exactly as he requested.
As the squad of Hei-Shi disappeared taking the persuasive man with them in a swirl of smoke, she looked down at her monitor. Yep. They'd gone thousands of kilometers to the West. They were somewhere in the middle of an uncharted ocean. Weird.
***
Kijuuki was as happy as a kitten in a string factory. This island was full of the Mana-Beings and many of them would do nothing but flee to defend themselves. She could not remember ever being so full of shining glory, before. Of course, she could not remember very much - part of the curse of being a Kyo-Tee-Shee, yesterday is nearly as indecipherable as tomorrow. Nor was she really full. True she had a glut of the beautiful light bursting through her every pore, but she never seemed to tire of the consuming. The consuming, in fact, became more of an obsession with each delicious morsel.
The One Who Unravels Mysteries had been wrong. He had created Kijuuki and her siblings and bound them in mysterious ways only he could unravel to the Kata-bearers, the God's of Ben Hamor, the Scions of Karia, the Cosmic Incarnation of the Answer to the Question of the All. Yes, this last title was sufficiently obnoxious to be an accurate representation of these beings. She and her siblings had been bound to them, believing that they could ride them to a cataract of Mana that would come along the timestream, but her own mount had been destroyed prematurely. It turned out that waiting for the cataract was a waste of time, because these Mana-beings were right here, now - and they were deliciously passive.
Not all of the Mana-beings were passive, however. Sometimes, Kijuuki encountered one of the beings she now referred to in her mental monologue as the "Dark Ones". The Dark Ones were Mana-beings, delectable in appearance, but overwhelmingly powerful. She avoided them assiduously, because they controlled her as surely as gravity determines the orbit of a planet, if she got too close. It was good, she reflected, that most of the Mana-beings did not resist, for they would be hard to eat if they all became Dark Ones.
She thought this while her beak was buried half way in the chest of a Mana-being sucking out delicious rainbow glory like a milkshake through a straw. The Mana-being raised its head, looking her in the eyes, and its expression made her hesitate.
"Kijuuki?" it said. "You are free?"
She refrained from pointing out the obviousness of this remark.
"Then Mokuzai is dead and all of Karia must mourn. The Answer moves closer to revelation. The Question is asked. Mokuzai is dead. There is no peace."
As he said this last thing, his mask caved in and she sucked up every delirious drop of Mana, until he was nothing at all.
She lay still for a moment while the All spun around her. She was intoxicated. She grinned idiotically. She heard someone coming, but she didn't care enough to check who it was.
***
Nero arrived on the Emerald Isle in a whirl of smoke, near the apex. Immediately behind him, a massive column of White Rock in the shape of a flame towered up to the sky. A magnificent omen that he was once again on the right path.
Oh, Spark. You doddering fool. Your mind was a cracked and rotten egg by the time I got to it, but it still contained more information than even you realized.
The Hei-Shi accompanying him looked around blankly for a moment, but Nero reasserted his control over them as easily as clenching his fist. They were soon forging ahead in every direction, through the jungle, teleporting to cover more ground, and reporting back at regular intervals. He would know the layout of the island in a few minutes. Some of his Hei-Shi did not report back, which let Nero know that the island was not a meek paradise, but it had a sting.
Then, one of his cobalt blue minions reappeared with a shocked expression on his face... His words were inarticulate, but his mental images were crystalline. He had seen something beautiful being consumed. The Hei-Shi had no way to know what it was, but he had instinctually recoiled at the sight.
"Take me," Nero commanded.
Nero arrived in time to see an enormous purple crane drowsily pecking at the shriveled remains of a... Inase Spark had called them Initiators: animate, non-living tools of the universe. A sudden cold rage came over him. He fell upon the crane in a flurry of balletic violence. Hovering knives sprung out of his coat and pinned the crane through the wings to the ground. His own fists and knees followed a split second after. As he struck he cursed it...
"You...vile...parasite! You have transgressed! This is a God you have destroyed..."
Kijuuki was sure she was hallucinating. Too much Mana consumed too quickly. This man was one of the Children of Steel. He did not belong on this island... except his eyes were so familiar. Those eyes compelled her to speak.
"Not Gods... Mana-beings... this one said," she wasn't precisely sure why she felt the need to repeat it, "this one said that there is no peace."
Nero's eyes narrowed, occluding the white, turning them to pools of blood. He gripped the bird's head pulling it intimately close to his mouth.
"No," he whispered, "not for you. For you there will never be peace again."
With that, he tore the crane apart, piece by piece, and ate it. It felt magnificent.
The Trial of Jin-Kalys
Jin is getting better at speaking to Cheldrun. It is an intriguing endeavor, and his accent is improving steadily. For example - a rise in volume is interpreted as passion. This adaptation to the unfortunate lack of dewlaps is understandable in retrospect. There is also nuance - a rise in pitch and volume is distinct from a rise in just one or the other. Lowering pitch can be accompanied even with a reduction in volume to lend psychological force to the words. When threatening, for example, or even, oddly, when seeking a mate to fertilize your eggs. No, not eggs. Bare embryos.
Jin has the opportunity to put his newfound knowledge to use. The Stardown Council, such as it is, has convened an impromptu trial for the purpose of dealing with Jin's humble self. The issue of certain injuries (and fatalities, he thinks, glancing at Varissa, restrained nearby) sustained by security officers at Stardown Technology and Research, as well as various instances of property damage, including the manipulation of a sacred First Mind artifact, need to be resolved legally.
Briefly stated: there are a large number of angry, confused Cheldrun who aren't sure whether to execute him or reward him. Drawn-out proceedings have not served to clarify the matter. (Oddly, Sousauryoku has remained silent throughout, watching Jin thoughtfully.) As the trial has dragged on, Jin's breathing techniques have enabled him to control the bubbling impatience swelling inside of him at the sight of so much addled and imprecise cogitation.
Jin has his thoughts on the matter of his execution, of course, and they are now expressed in a well-carrying, lowered voice, in order to impart intensity of feeling without the implication of desperation.
"Ladies and gentlemen. August personages of the Stardown Council. There are a plethora of reasons not to execute myself and my companions at this time. At your invitation, I will now endeavor to humbly present some of them before you, at which point you will of course deliberate and render your judgment in this matter.
"A large portion of our story has already been rendered to you, piecemeal, I believe you would say, so I will not belabor those points. What seems to be germane is my intent in coming here, and the extent to which my actions were commensurate with achieving that intent within the confines of the law.
"I am not versed in Cheldrun law, but I will offer the statement that I did not in fact kill or permanently injure any Cheldrun, and any of my companions'...indiscretions...can perhaps be attributed to the matter of expedience. That is to say, as you can see, it takes a long time to explain what it was we were attempting.
"In coming here, I was guided by a mathematical and philosophical model which is, among other things, a polyvalent heuristic discernment device." Nothing. "Hem. That is, the model enables me to take into account certain discrete data and to analyze and refine it for the purpose of perceiving interconnections and predicting future ones." Some blinking and open mouths. Am I speaking to fish!? "Rather...it enables me to...mathematically predict the future."
Now they understand, but they are quite unconvinced. The bailiff, who is monitoring Jin's allotted time, shouts for silence until he's finished. About half of the gathered mob is no longer really paying attention. Jin smooths a dewlap and remembers to count his breath.
"If you are seeking verification, you could of course turn your attention to the vast purple energy field which is currently protecting you from Hei-Shi attack. I was able to determine how to accomplish that feat, from a considerable distance in time and space, using this model. I was able to locate an underground research facility, and to utilize a seemingly unconnected resource, that is, the last Vorax egg on Karia, to charge the device in such a way as to accomplish my task." Sainted lizard sages! This is a fine feeling. No piercing for this, because these are hardly worthy adversaries, but they are listening now. The facial expressions might be deemed...grudging, but still.
"Feel free, if I may say so, to explain all of that however you like. It was not even my primary objective in coming here. I believe that you are now aware of the threat that is approaching. Has, in fact, already arrived. You call it the Enemy. I would call it a Probable Extinction Nexus. Regardless..." the bailiff is gesturing to Jin - his allotted time is running out in which to make his legal defense, though he has abandoned thoughts of legal defense at this point. They will hopefully perceive that legal considerations are indeed ancilliary to what is truly at stake.
"Regardless of our differences in nomenclature, we share an existential threat that will either exterminate everything...or it won't. That threat is connected to the Wandering Star. It is, of course, not a star at all. Whatever it is - and I am quite determined to discover this - whatever it is, the Probable Extinction Nexus is connected to it inextricably.
"And so, I propose...no, I intend - to tear it out of the sky, to bring it down in a holocaust of friction as it plummets through the upper layers of the air, to finally be rent apart and incinerated when it impacts the ground. It needs to impact the ground so that it does not cause a tsunami which will threaten coastal settlements. It will doubtless expel millions of cubic meters, in your measurement system - which is quite an elegant base-ten system by the way once one learns to utilize it - of particulate...but the Wandering Star will be gone. I have the entirety of my calculations in your notation if anyone is interested..." Jin eagerly proffers a stack of mottled, slightly burnt paper with tiny, precise handwritten numbers and symbols and diagrams covering both sides of each page, the painstaking work (especially since much of it was actually done while camping in the jungle with a Gogajin and a Jevumm) the result of months of meticulous effort.
Slowly, Sousauryoku's hand goes up, and Jin allows himself a smile. Sousauryoku merely stares enigmatically. Everyone else in the room is staring at Jin, but they express no interest in the fruits of his cognitive labors.
No one else in the room matters.
"I know how I can accomplish this. I created the field to prevent the Primary Dissolutionary Element - in this iteration, Goshi Corporation - from interfering. At this juncture, it is necessary that we...that we tip the balance in favor of not becoming extinct.
"I see my time is up. Thank you."
Sousauryoku stands up from the plaintiff's seat before anyone can rally any kind of response to that kind of barrage.
"August members of the Council, I hereby drop all civil charges, on the condition that this Anakarix and his two companions be remitted to my care for the duration of their stay in Stardown." He walks forward - the bailiff, somewhat flabbergasted, does nothing to intervene - and gently takes the stack of paper from Jin's clawed hand.
"If this is garbage, I'll know soon enough, and you will disappear." He has lowered his voice, and the intensity is no doubt intended to be interpreted as threat and confidence.
Slowly, Jin's dewlaps extend, displaying an arresting motley of crimson, violet and bright solar orange, immediately making him appear larger and more threatening in a cold, reptilian sense. His piercings, the marks of honor and of the victory of ideas, clink together musically. "If the work of the sainted and eternal lizard sage, Asterakalys, the Helio-Synthesis model, as I have applied it through nine-branch formal logic, is proven to be garbage, then you can do with me what you will."
Jin has the opportunity to put his newfound knowledge to use. The Stardown Council, such as it is, has convened an impromptu trial for the purpose of dealing with Jin's humble self. The issue of certain injuries (and fatalities, he thinks, glancing at Varissa, restrained nearby) sustained by security officers at Stardown Technology and Research, as well as various instances of property damage, including the manipulation of a sacred First Mind artifact, need to be resolved legally.
Briefly stated: there are a large number of angry, confused Cheldrun who aren't sure whether to execute him or reward him. Drawn-out proceedings have not served to clarify the matter. (Oddly, Sousauryoku has remained silent throughout, watching Jin thoughtfully.) As the trial has dragged on, Jin's breathing techniques have enabled him to control the bubbling impatience swelling inside of him at the sight of so much addled and imprecise cogitation.
Jin has his thoughts on the matter of his execution, of course, and they are now expressed in a well-carrying, lowered voice, in order to impart intensity of feeling without the implication of desperation.
"Ladies and gentlemen. August personages of the Stardown Council. There are a plethora of reasons not to execute myself and my companions at this time. At your invitation, I will now endeavor to humbly present some of them before you, at which point you will of course deliberate and render your judgment in this matter.
"A large portion of our story has already been rendered to you, piecemeal, I believe you would say, so I will not belabor those points. What seems to be germane is my intent in coming here, and the extent to which my actions were commensurate with achieving that intent within the confines of the law.
"I am not versed in Cheldrun law, but I will offer the statement that I did not in fact kill or permanently injure any Cheldrun, and any of my companions'...indiscretions...can perhaps be attributed to the matter of expedience. That is to say, as you can see, it takes a long time to explain what it was we were attempting.
"In coming here, I was guided by a mathematical and philosophical model which is, among other things, a polyvalent heuristic discernment device." Nothing. "Hem. That is, the model enables me to take into account certain discrete data and to analyze and refine it for the purpose of perceiving interconnections and predicting future ones." Some blinking and open mouths. Am I speaking to fish!? "Rather...it enables me to...mathematically predict the future."
Now they understand, but they are quite unconvinced. The bailiff, who is monitoring Jin's allotted time, shouts for silence until he's finished. About half of the gathered mob is no longer really paying attention. Jin smooths a dewlap and remembers to count his breath.
"If you are seeking verification, you could of course turn your attention to the vast purple energy field which is currently protecting you from Hei-Shi attack. I was able to determine how to accomplish that feat, from a considerable distance in time and space, using this model. I was able to locate an underground research facility, and to utilize a seemingly unconnected resource, that is, the last Vorax egg on Karia, to charge the device in such a way as to accomplish my task." Sainted lizard sages! This is a fine feeling. No piercing for this, because these are hardly worthy adversaries, but they are listening now. The facial expressions might be deemed...grudging, but still.
"Feel free, if I may say so, to explain all of that however you like. It was not even my primary objective in coming here. I believe that you are now aware of the threat that is approaching. Has, in fact, already arrived. You call it the Enemy. I would call it a Probable Extinction Nexus. Regardless..." the bailiff is gesturing to Jin - his allotted time is running out in which to make his legal defense, though he has abandoned thoughts of legal defense at this point. They will hopefully perceive that legal considerations are indeed ancilliary to what is truly at stake.
"Regardless of our differences in nomenclature, we share an existential threat that will either exterminate everything...or it won't. That threat is connected to the Wandering Star. It is, of course, not a star at all. Whatever it is - and I am quite determined to discover this - whatever it is, the Probable Extinction Nexus is connected to it inextricably.
"And so, I propose...no, I intend - to tear it out of the sky, to bring it down in a holocaust of friction as it plummets through the upper layers of the air, to finally be rent apart and incinerated when it impacts the ground. It needs to impact the ground so that it does not cause a tsunami which will threaten coastal settlements. It will doubtless expel millions of cubic meters, in your measurement system - which is quite an elegant base-ten system by the way once one learns to utilize it - of particulate...but the Wandering Star will be gone. I have the entirety of my calculations in your notation if anyone is interested..." Jin eagerly proffers a stack of mottled, slightly burnt paper with tiny, precise handwritten numbers and symbols and diagrams covering both sides of each page, the painstaking work (especially since much of it was actually done while camping in the jungle with a Gogajin and a Jevumm) the result of months of meticulous effort.
Slowly, Sousauryoku's hand goes up, and Jin allows himself a smile. Sousauryoku merely stares enigmatically. Everyone else in the room is staring at Jin, but they express no interest in the fruits of his cognitive labors.
No one else in the room matters.
"I know how I can accomplish this. I created the field to prevent the Primary Dissolutionary Element - in this iteration, Goshi Corporation - from interfering. At this juncture, it is necessary that we...that we tip the balance in favor of not becoming extinct.
"I see my time is up. Thank you."
Sousauryoku stands up from the plaintiff's seat before anyone can rally any kind of response to that kind of barrage.
"August members of the Council, I hereby drop all civil charges, on the condition that this Anakarix and his two companions be remitted to my care for the duration of their stay in Stardown." He walks forward - the bailiff, somewhat flabbergasted, does nothing to intervene - and gently takes the stack of paper from Jin's clawed hand.
"If this is garbage, I'll know soon enough, and you will disappear." He has lowered his voice, and the intensity is no doubt intended to be interpreted as threat and confidence.
Slowly, Jin's dewlaps extend, displaying an arresting motley of crimson, violet and bright solar orange, immediately making him appear larger and more threatening in a cold, reptilian sense. His piercings, the marks of honor and of the victory of ideas, clink together musically. "If the work of the sainted and eternal lizard sage, Asterakalys, the Helio-Synthesis model, as I have applied it through nine-branch formal logic, is proven to be garbage, then you can do with me what you will."
Kiyoshi and Kijuuki
With a grip like a vice Kiyoshi pulled the ephemeral purple crane by the neck until the two of them hung eye to eye, floating in zero gravity. Blind with rage he leveled an ultimatum at the bird and proceeded to attempt the binding...
A Kyo-Tee-Shee can be bound to a soul if certain conditions are met. The soul must be an appropriately large vessel. Most people are unequipped for the task. The soul must be familiar with the metaphysics of the transfer of mana. Those who remain deaf and dumb to the effects of mana are like shallow puddles in which nothing can be immersed, least of all a Kyo-Tee-Shee. And of course, the Kyo-Tee-Shee in question must be intoxicated on a recent consumption of mana, but not just any mana. Like rivers, some streams of mana are purer than others.
When Kijuuki consumed Suraisu-Oni's mana she was indeed drunk for a few moments, but it was like being drunk on Schlitz Malt Liquor. The searing headache which rushed upon her woke her from her stupor in time to realize what was happening and to know that she was in no danger. You see, Kiyoshi already had one Kyo-Tee-Shee bound to his soul and no soul, no matter how great, can accommodate more than that.
So he thrust himself upon her intending that they should be united, intending to entrap her like he had trapped her brother... but she smiled.
In a split instant a look passed between them and in that look there was a great deal of information. Kiyoshi saw that what he was doing was impossible. He saw, also, that he had gotten himself into great danger - for he held a free Kyo-Tee-Shee about the neck. One with a large quantity of mana, and no god-question-answer-manifestation left to serve. Kijuuki had become a powerful and arbitrary force of nature, bound by no laws - especially not the law of death.
I cannot be destroyed. The look said. I cannot be controlled. I am free at last to consume mana to my heart's content and you and your friends will pay for imprisoning me.
Had this all taken longer than a flash of lightning to occur, Kiyoshi would have done a hundred different things to stop Kijuuki, but it was all over in an instant. Kijuuki blazed with purple light, searing his hand and blinding his eyes. She evaporated amidst that light sending Kiyoshi one last image before his brain shut down from overload dragging him into a coma.
Kiyoshi drifted into a deep sleep with that image replaying over and over in his mind. It was a picture of the place she was going next. Going to gorge herself on mana. The Emerald Isle.
A Kyo-Tee-Shee can be bound to a soul if certain conditions are met. The soul must be an appropriately large vessel. Most people are unequipped for the task. The soul must be familiar with the metaphysics of the transfer of mana. Those who remain deaf and dumb to the effects of mana are like shallow puddles in which nothing can be immersed, least of all a Kyo-Tee-Shee. And of course, the Kyo-Tee-Shee in question must be intoxicated on a recent consumption of mana, but not just any mana. Like rivers, some streams of mana are purer than others.
When Kijuuki consumed Suraisu-Oni's mana she was indeed drunk for a few moments, but it was like being drunk on Schlitz Malt Liquor. The searing headache which rushed upon her woke her from her stupor in time to realize what was happening and to know that she was in no danger. You see, Kiyoshi already had one Kyo-Tee-Shee bound to his soul and no soul, no matter how great, can accommodate more than that.
So he thrust himself upon her intending that they should be united, intending to entrap her like he had trapped her brother... but she smiled.
In a split instant a look passed between them and in that look there was a great deal of information. Kiyoshi saw that what he was doing was impossible. He saw, also, that he had gotten himself into great danger - for he held a free Kyo-Tee-Shee about the neck. One with a large quantity of mana, and no god-question-answer-manifestation left to serve. Kijuuki had become a powerful and arbitrary force of nature, bound by no laws - especially not the law of death.
I cannot be destroyed. The look said. I cannot be controlled. I am free at last to consume mana to my heart's content and you and your friends will pay for imprisoning me.
Had this all taken longer than a flash of lightning to occur, Kiyoshi would have done a hundred different things to stop Kijuuki, but it was all over in an instant. Kijuuki blazed with purple light, searing his hand and blinding his eyes. She evaporated amidst that light sending Kiyoshi one last image before his brain shut down from overload dragging him into a coma.
Kiyoshi drifted into a deep sleep with that image replaying over and over in his mind. It was a picture of the place she was going next. Going to gorge herself on mana. The Emerald Isle.
Director of Distribution and Security
Anyone else would have been complaining that they got more than they bargained for, but not Rain. In the space of two years she had ascended from a 2nd tier efficiency expert to Director of Distribution, assumed the role of Acting Director of Security when Hurricane had her accident, and then seen her employer become a world dominating power. Rain now sat in the driver's seat of a continent-spanning operation of such intricacy that it boggled the mind - and deep down, she was loving it.
It is true, working for the Executor has its drawbacks. He is a demanding man, and he never answers questions, but Rain is not really a curious girl. She is however, extraordinarily good at keeping hundreds of different factors in mind simultaneously and calculating the consequences. Though, Goshi's coup had not been bloodless, it was a far smoother affair than it would have been had anyone else been at the helm. With Blade's informants so well placed she had up to the minute information about the whereabouts and activities of every significant political leader, military commander and Mecha pilot on Karia - a state of affairs that made a rash of assassinations exceedingly easy.
Since then, her sole objective had been quelling dissent and keeping everyone outside the top three floors of the Goshi Tower completely confused. Hei-Shi regularly teleported into and out of public locations. Sometimes they were there for a purpose, sometimes they were there just to make observers wonder. In every city dissenters had to be regularly stirred up and eliminated in such a way that word got out, but no one saw or knew enough to tell the tale straight. The goal was to ensure that no one could be certain what Goshi's motives were. The daily ordinances delivered by public monitors were part of this as well. Every four to six days Rain made sure to put in ordinances that contradicted, in subtle ways, ordinances that had come before. A befuddled and fearful populace is an inactive one.
However, she knew better than to think these tricks would work perfectly forever. No one had been less surprised than her to learn that Stardown had found a way to mount an effective resistance - exclude the disLocators. Precisely how they'd done it remained a mystery to her, but she saw such attempts on the horizon and thus she'd already begun conscripting soldiers for a more traditional terrestrial army before it happened. It would be only a few days before her first regiments were ready to begin the march overland, and however well prepared Stardown might be by then, they could never hope to compete with the unlimited wealth of Goshi Corp.
In fact, she relished the upcoming battle. So long as she kept everyone else out of balance, Stardown was becoming a gravity well for resisters throughout Cheldrun society. Already, she'd been informed that the Silver Phoenix Clan, led by their insufferable patriarch Daitokuji Ichirou and his Mecha, had joined forces with the citizens of Stardown. Prominent members of the UMA were supposed to have made it through the energy dome which protected the region as well. If she waited just a little while longer, every person who was a threat to Goshi would be accumulated in one place. Most likely including Kiyoshi, Moses and friends, she thought, permitting herself a little smile. In one fell swoop she could end the war and secure Goshi dominance for a long time to come.
The key to the whole situation would be waiting just long enough...
It is true, working for the Executor has its drawbacks. He is a demanding man, and he never answers questions, but Rain is not really a curious girl. She is however, extraordinarily good at keeping hundreds of different factors in mind simultaneously and calculating the consequences. Though, Goshi's coup had not been bloodless, it was a far smoother affair than it would have been had anyone else been at the helm. With Blade's informants so well placed she had up to the minute information about the whereabouts and activities of every significant political leader, military commander and Mecha pilot on Karia - a state of affairs that made a rash of assassinations exceedingly easy.
Since then, her sole objective had been quelling dissent and keeping everyone outside the top three floors of the Goshi Tower completely confused. Hei-Shi regularly teleported into and out of public locations. Sometimes they were there for a purpose, sometimes they were there just to make observers wonder. In every city dissenters had to be regularly stirred up and eliminated in such a way that word got out, but no one saw or knew enough to tell the tale straight. The goal was to ensure that no one could be certain what Goshi's motives were. The daily ordinances delivered by public monitors were part of this as well. Every four to six days Rain made sure to put in ordinances that contradicted, in subtle ways, ordinances that had come before. A befuddled and fearful populace is an inactive one.
However, she knew better than to think these tricks would work perfectly forever. No one had been less surprised than her to learn that Stardown had found a way to mount an effective resistance - exclude the disLocators. Precisely how they'd done it remained a mystery to her, but she saw such attempts on the horizon and thus she'd already begun conscripting soldiers for a more traditional terrestrial army before it happened. It would be only a few days before her first regiments were ready to begin the march overland, and however well prepared Stardown might be by then, they could never hope to compete with the unlimited wealth of Goshi Corp.
In fact, she relished the upcoming battle. So long as she kept everyone else out of balance, Stardown was becoming a gravity well for resisters throughout Cheldrun society. Already, she'd been informed that the Silver Phoenix Clan, led by their insufferable patriarch Daitokuji Ichirou and his Mecha, had joined forces with the citizens of Stardown. Prominent members of the UMA were supposed to have made it through the energy dome which protected the region as well. If she waited just a little while longer, every person who was a threat to Goshi would be accumulated in one place. Most likely including Kiyoshi, Moses and friends, she thought, permitting herself a little smile. In one fell swoop she could end the war and secure Goshi dominance for a long time to come.
The key to the whole situation would be waiting just long enough...
The One Who Hopes
When I meet his gaze, I know.
The One Who Bridges the Gap. His eyes are my eyes. I can see the... familial resemblance. I see it in a way that it wasn't present even in Aimi, or Sever, or Stitch, or Malicious. I see in his eyes what I see in my own, and in Nero's, and I know.
I know what I have to do.
"Who are you?" he asks, echoing back my own question. The question. One of the two questions that are truly important.
"My name is Rei," I reply.
He cocks his head to the side in a motion that is less Cheldrun than it is birdlike. "Rei? That doesn't make any sense."
"People keep saying that," I murmur. I think for a moment. "I'm... Mikomi?" I offer. It feels strange to use that name, but it feels close to the truth. Closer than 'Rei,' anyways. Zero. ... I no longer want to be the Empty Void, but I doubt I will ever really be able to change my nature.
"Your real name," he says.
Moses and Una and High Dive are watching now, and Moses's worried thoughts are like a distant buzzing in the back of my awareness. Amaterasu hungers. I don't want to be the empty void. Emptiness. Hallow. Cold. Dark. The question. Life? The inevitable heat death of the universe. Maximum entropy. An eternity of nothingness. There must be something more than that. Against all evidence to the contrary, that can't be all there is. I consider my answer for a long moment, and when I speak, I know before I even open my mouth that I am about to say something true on a level I have never uttered before: "I am The One Who Hopes."
The One Who Bridges the Gap nods. "Ah yes. That makes sense. Don't worry, The One Who Hopes. It will be over soon. But how did you get out here?"
"I came from the planet," I say. His eyes are hypnotic. So very like my own. The sense of kinship is almost painful in its intensity.
"Sent out in advance?" it asks. "The others will want to meet you."
I move forward and take his hand, feeling now more sure of the rightness of this course of action than I have ever before in my life. All the justifications I had been making for it seem to fade into the background: that I must learn about my enemy if we are to defeat it, that I am gathering information, that it would be irresponsible to let any more of my friends die because of our ignorance. All fades behind a great singular fact: this is what I was born for. This is why my father created me.
The One Who Bridges the Gap looks towards my companions. "Malice must be resolved," he says, and with a gesture of his hand, Garandu-Oni and Suraisu-Oni step through the wall.
The distant buzz of Moses' thoughts crescendos, and I am distantly aware of making telepathic contact with his mind. Then High Dive cries out, "Rei, what are you doing!?"
I meet her gaze and smile. "It's my purpose," I say. And then, hand in hand with The One Who Bridges the Gap, I walk through the bulkhead, and then through another, and another, and another. The sounds of combat are quickly muted, and then fade altogether.
We emerge into a vast open chamber, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the center, where floating in midair, strange metallic rings circle the largest quantity of White-Rock I have ever seen in my life: here is the heart of the ship, and Amaterasu's whispers rise up like a tide, urging me to let her out, to let her feed, and even here where I am able to distinguish between her thoughts and mine, I want to do as she asks. This amphitheatre-sized chamber is the Wandering Star's FTL drive, full of catwalks and strange technological devices and readouts and instrumentation so alien that I can't even begin to hope to understand it. But then, I don't need to, because what I see next stills even the hungry murmurs of Amaterasu within my mind.
There, all around the white rock engine, are strange, familiar figures. Each of them like the One Who Bridges the Gap, each of them different. Each of them like an idealized Cheldrun figure, and each of them with vibrant, otherworldly eyes. Some blue, some yellow, some red, some other colours, but each of them like mine; each of them like Nero's.
"I'm home," I whisper.
welcome home
The One Who Bridges the Gap. His eyes are my eyes. I can see the... familial resemblance. I see it in a way that it wasn't present even in Aimi, or Sever, or Stitch, or Malicious. I see in his eyes what I see in my own, and in Nero's, and I know.
I know what I have to do.
"Who are you?" he asks, echoing back my own question. The question. One of the two questions that are truly important.
"My name is Rei," I reply.
He cocks his head to the side in a motion that is less Cheldrun than it is birdlike. "Rei? That doesn't make any sense."
"People keep saying that," I murmur. I think for a moment. "I'm... Mikomi?" I offer. It feels strange to use that name, but it feels close to the truth. Closer than 'Rei,' anyways. Zero. ... I no longer want to be the Empty Void, but I doubt I will ever really be able to change my nature.
"Your real name," he says.
Moses and Una and High Dive are watching now, and Moses's worried thoughts are like a distant buzzing in the back of my awareness. Amaterasu hungers. I don't want to be the empty void. Emptiness. Hallow. Cold. Dark. The question. Life? The inevitable heat death of the universe. Maximum entropy. An eternity of nothingness. There must be something more than that. Against all evidence to the contrary, that can't be all there is. I consider my answer for a long moment, and when I speak, I know before I even open my mouth that I am about to say something true on a level I have never uttered before: "I am The One Who Hopes."
The One Who Bridges the Gap nods. "Ah yes. That makes sense. Don't worry, The One Who Hopes. It will be over soon. But how did you get out here?"
"I came from the planet," I say. His eyes are hypnotic. So very like my own. The sense of kinship is almost painful in its intensity.
"Sent out in advance?" it asks. "The others will want to meet you."
I move forward and take his hand, feeling now more sure of the rightness of this course of action than I have ever before in my life. All the justifications I had been making for it seem to fade into the background: that I must learn about my enemy if we are to defeat it, that I am gathering information, that it would be irresponsible to let any more of my friends die because of our ignorance. All fades behind a great singular fact: this is what I was born for. This is why my father created me.
The One Who Bridges the Gap looks towards my companions. "Malice must be resolved," he says, and with a gesture of his hand, Garandu-Oni and Suraisu-Oni step through the wall.
The distant buzz of Moses' thoughts crescendos, and I am distantly aware of making telepathic contact with his mind. Then High Dive cries out, "Rei, what are you doing!?"
I meet her gaze and smile. "It's my purpose," I say. And then, hand in hand with The One Who Bridges the Gap, I walk through the bulkhead, and then through another, and another, and another. The sounds of combat are quickly muted, and then fade altogether.
We emerge into a vast open chamber, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the center, where floating in midair, strange metallic rings circle the largest quantity of White-Rock I have ever seen in my life: here is the heart of the ship, and Amaterasu's whispers rise up like a tide, urging me to let her out, to let her feed, and even here where I am able to distinguish between her thoughts and mine, I want to do as she asks. This amphitheatre-sized chamber is the Wandering Star's FTL drive, full of catwalks and strange technological devices and readouts and instrumentation so alien that I can't even begin to hope to understand it. But then, I don't need to, because what I see next stills even the hungry murmurs of Amaterasu within my mind.
There, all around the white rock engine, are strange, familiar figures. Each of them like the One Who Bridges the Gap, each of them different. Each of them like an idealized Cheldrun figure, and each of them with vibrant, otherworldly eyes. Some blue, some yellow, some red, some other colours, but each of them like mine; each of them like Nero's.
"I'm home," I whisper.
welcome home
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