Some seasons past...
The Sygola groan like pale old lizards on a misty night. The storm has brought darkness early and sleep is deepening in Sighing Web of Trees - a sprawling settlement named by a legendary poet, Saborakalys, after a line in one of the poems she created near the end of her long life. The trees sigh and sway and groan; raindrops drum on thatched roofs and rush down the sides of the venerable Academy, Arborealis Heliophilius; wheezing snores can be heard escaping through rubbery lips and interlocking teeth -
but Jin-kalys is not sleeping. He scratches his dewlap absently, a claw briefly catching on one of his piercings - and immediately he is reminded of eight summers ago, lit by a fine sunset mingling gold and red and green through the high canopy, when he demonstrated the irreducibility of nine-branch formal logic as a representation of rational cognition.
The piercing next to it came five years later when he demonstrated the paucity of his own theory as it came from the lips of a favorite rival, Asterakon. Rather, it is clear that non-rational processing seems necessary to resolve certain radical dichotomies - a theory which some refer to as "post-meteotropic root-ism". It is still considered a radical theory, even though its germ can be traced as far back as the great sage Monikostara and -
There is a scratch at the door. Too low to be another Anakarix. Jin pulls the door open quickly and a Zipsum blurs her way into the small room. The fire brings out bluish highlights on her dark fur and glints in her bright green eyes. Poison-Frog-Kiss of the Lighteningstrike Tribe, the nearest tribe to Sighing Web of Trees. She deposits a heavy satchel on the floor unceremoniously.
"I dunno why me but I got all the stuff you were after and you wouldn't believe the trouble it was I've had to stay in this form because of the rain and this stupid bag is pretty heavy" there is an explosion of water as she sakes off at least a gallon of rain, spattering everything in the one-room domicile. Jin flinches, unnoticed "and so listen we need to talk about payment now we agreed to the same weight but considering that I had to carry it in my mouth in this form I think that a markup is..."
"Oh..."
"candy..."
Her huge bright eyes are inquisitive and acquisitive at the same time. Jin doubts she would appreciate the etymological deliciousness inherent in the look. He's holding out a pile of gourmet candy, stacked in a careful pyramid shape on a layer of anannu leaves which can also serve as wrapping.
'Indeed. This is yours, of course, and the rest is stored in the hollow tree as we discussed..." but the conversation has ended, as with a rapturous sigh Poison-Frog-Kiss begins cramming glistening candies in her mouth by the handful like a starveling. Jin goes on, distantly aware that he's talking only to himself but also quite nervous, now that its come to it, "I appreciate your discretion in this matter. It may seem odd that I don't simply requisition these accoutrements from supplies among my own people, but you see I have made a very important decision..."
Moans are now escaping Poison-Frog-Kiss. Her soft belly is visibly distended and her paws and face smeared with sweet dark cacao and the juice of the anannu-fruit. She is languorously licking each digit on each paw the the careful attention of a starstruck lover.
Ahem. "A decision which, I surmise, my colleagues will not appreciate. At the very least, not until it has borne some fruit, so to speak." Poison-Frog-Kills looks at him, blinking dully, with a clear expression of who are you again? written across her face. "We have spoken of the Cheldrun, and I have done some of my own research on the matter, in some cases at considerable personal risk - and I appreciate your help in those matters. You have...well, you have clarified..." she is looking at him and he can't finish the sentence. She gave him a raw barrage of information that could take weeks to untangle in his own methodical way.
"Yeah, I know what you're up to. And you're gonna die."
"I...I beg your pardon?"
"Look, its up to you. At least you're not talking and shooting out that purple thingy on your head like you did last time we talked -"
"I do apologize for that outburst, you see it is merely a vestigial-"
"And anyway its fine if you want to go get killed that's up to you I've got my candy delightful by the way and I'm happy as a punched Gogagin I just don't see the point of going to find some Cheldrun when they're busy chopping down all the trees they can get their hands and roasting the last Vorax from what I've heard I'm pretty sure that they'll just blast you or eat your brain like they do but hey its your life."
She opens the door, letting in a little more rain and grimacing at the force of it.
"Its..." Jin-kalys shakes his head, making his dewlap flap to express his lack of clarity. Its about the Nexus. Plot influences as lines on a two-dimensional representational Tree and it points to Apogee. Plot the same function over time and you can determine when it will happen. It is predictable, rooted in demonstrably reliable principles, and what is predictable can be addressed preventively before it cascades out of possible control. The function is geometric, and after the Nexus, the meeting of the influences, hope diminishes quickly for any kind of salvageable result.
"Its complicated".
The Zipsum is already gone, and the wind is blowing rain into Jin-kalys's home, sending rivulets along the carefully fitted boards.
"Its the end of Karia. Of everything. Unless we do something."
Nine-branch formal logic is still quite functional for known quantities. Nine races mean that the Arboreal Model's factors are accounted for (three kinds of Cheldrun, he did get that much from the Zipsum's barrage). The Dusk Sages? They could stand for the Perigee-Curve's intersection point. But the Apogee, when the nine-branch function is applied to an Asterakalys Helio-synthesis model, represents...what? What's the opposite of rationality, of connection, of life and vitality? What is the inverse of the Dusk Sages, the turning of wisdom and power for the good against itself...most distant from the Solar Source along the great Ellipse of cyclical time?
Whatever it was, Karia would be finding out soon, too soon.
Jin feels his tail straighten in anxiety and crouches down to meditate until it relaxes. He gathers up his satchel and adds a few oddments from his home. He leaves the fire in the tiny hearth to burn itself out so he won't be missed too soon, closes the door behind him, climbs along the tree to the next, and the next, slowly and groggily now that the fear has faded somewhat. He goes a long way before he realizes that he didn't say goodbye.
He pushes on through morning, and then moves with gathering speed. He feels the lines tightening, Apogee closing in. The thought comes unbidden, like it did in the dream.
I am the revelation of Karia.
Teki
It was a word Rei had applied to many in her time. The face of Typhon rose up before her, struck down even as he willed her to burn, her psychic knife draining the last of his power away at the very moment he would have destroyed her. Her hands around his throat, squeezing tightly, feeling the pulse of his life slowing, slowing, gentler and gentler against her palm, his whirling thoughts fading and fading until... silence.
Teki.
The word rolled like a pulse of light on the surface of her mind. She saw the face of Nero, greasy hair and red eyes full of quiet hatred.
Teki.
Aimi’s face swam into view. An image floats before the screen: a thirteen year old Rei crying bitterly as Mama Pain praises a very young Aimi for behavior that she had punished Rei for the very same day.
Teki.
The Infected, swarming through the mines, threatening Moses’ life.
Teki.
Aliya Pain, dead on the floor, a needle sticking out of her heart.
Teki.
Nero. Nero with a blackened skeletal arm and a malice that burns with the fury of a star. He clenches his skeletal fist; bits of metal float into the air and flow together through the gaps in the bones, knitting together of his accord, melding, fusing: in moments a gleaming metal arm glitters dangerously beneath the stars.
Teki.
Rei flings herself into the very maw of doom, into the Shadow with teeth bared, defiant to the last breath.
Breathe.
The fire comes forth, and the fear is swallowed up in fire. It feels right to bring the fire. It makes her wish Amaterasu were here. In that moment, everything is gloriously, perfectly clear; in that moment, with golden flames burning all around her, when death is like a light and blood is like a rose, Rei loves her Enemy.
Teki.
Enemy. Now, looking down at the beast even as it melts beneath the combined barrage of the Goshi heat-bombs, Rei can’t help but feel sorry for the demon. This abomination. This creature which should not and can not be allowed to exist. This thing of malice which feeds upon the living souls of its prey.
She doesn’t recognize the feeling at first. It’s not something she’s ever experienced before, after all. This strange movement of the heart is altogether new to her. There is no frame of reference for it. There it is, burning in the heart of the young Biomade like the searing light of the sun-child. Every Cheldrun lived in fear of that thing which waited in the starless void. Every Cheldrun had heard whispered tales of the Enemy. Rei had learned of it through Others. Through their thoughts. Through their darkest fears, their moments of weakness, through the moments in the night when the pulse quickened and terror grew within the heart of a young man just outside the compound as he thought he saw the shadows move. And the reality was every bit as terrifying as the stories had suggested, and yet...
Though the creature be terrible, abominable, and fearful beyond all measure, as she watches the Demon melt - though she says nothing, and the thought of it disturbs her more than the feeling itself - Rei’s heart is moved to pity for the first time.
She would never admit it. Not to anyone. Not ever. Not even to herself. But there it is nonetheless.
Fever Dreams
My feet slid in the mud of Washisan Academy's training yard and I nearly fell. I was used to training in all conditions, but I was certainly not used to doing it while weighing a few tons. I recovered from my momentary stumble and struck back wildly trying to drive my opponent back far enough that I could fully regain my balance. He dodged, seemingly effortlessly compared to my clumsy movements, and my massive weapon nearly took out a pillar before I checked it.
"Be more careful, Kiyoshi!" came Ichirou's voice from the other mecha. "This is not the practice yard at the dojo with wooden bokken; a mecha can be as dangerous to your surroundings as to your opponent. A single misstep could collapse an outbuilding and someone could be seriously injured or even killed."
*FLASH*
"You did kill a man, you know."
I find myself in a strange place. All around me is nothing but blackness. Not darkness, because I can see myself clearly, but all around me there is... nothing but black. I turn to see who spoke. "Moses?"
Moses is standing there, floating in the blackness as I am. His forehead furrows as if he is trying to think really hard for a moment, then he says "Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm your conscience. I just look like Moses right now."
"Ah. I guess that makes sense."
"Like I said, you killed someone. Three men, actually. Not Oni or anything; your fellow Cheldrun."
"Yeah, I know. The sniper and two Hei Shi."
"Yep. So how does it feel being a killer? I thought that killing Cheldrun was the one thing you said you would not do?"
"I do not like it; I hope I never do. But I did what was necessary."
"And what defines necessity?" I look up and find that Moses is gone. This last question had been asked by an image of Rei standing in his place.
"Who are you supposed to be?"
"Let's just call me your... practicality. It is easy to do horrendous things if you can justify their 'necessity'. What makes it necessary to kill?"
"I will kill to preserve my life, and that of my companions, or of those who cannot defend themselves."
"What about for honor?"
"My honor is easily worth my life."
"That is not the question I asked and you know it! I am not asking if your honor is worth your life; the question is, is it worth the life of another? An enemy? An innocent? A... friend?"
I open my mouth to answer, then close it. Eventually I answer simply. "I do not know."
Rei nods. "An honest answer, if not a good one. You will probably want to figure it out though, before it comes up, or you might not like the choice that is forced upon you."
*FLASH*
"What do you mean you do not want her? This mecha has been in our family almost as long as mine, and father's! It is your birthright! How can you throw that in our face?" Ichirou was angry like I had never seen him. He seemed to take my pronouncement as a personal insult.
"You saw how I was out there. Being in a mecha simply did not feel... natural to me. Let Naomi have her; you know how much she moons about the Academy wishing to be a pilot. When she reaches majority she can do just that. I simply do not feel that is the road I wish to take."
"What will people say if the son of the Grand Master of Washisan Academy refuses to become a pilot?"
"I don't know! Make something up to make it seem like I was unfit somehow! Tell them... tell them my vision is too poor! I will start wearing glasses all the time. And, of course, I could never sully the purity of the family be getting modifications to correct the problem... yes, that should work nicely."
Ichirou looked at me askance. "You and your scheming; one day they will get you in more trouble than you can get out of. I simply do not understand it; I thought you would be proud, would want to make father and the clan proud as a pilot."
I sighed. "I do want to make them proud, but not as a pilot. The thought of wrapping myself in several tons of metal and battling my fellow Cheldrun for a living, maybe even having to kill them... that is not for me."
Ichirou's face darkened even further. His voice was taught with anger. "We 'battle our fellow Cheldrun' in individual duels of honor so that larger conflicts do not become necessary. Sure, there are fatalities every once in a while, but they are nothing compared to the numbers that would die in more traditional warfare. And you dare to look down upon us for this?" By the end he was nearly shouting.
"No brother, I do not look down upon the pilots. I have nothing but respect for what you and father and all the others do; you fight so that the rest of us do not have to. But there are other kinds of fights than physical, and it is to those that I feel myself drawn. You keep the various cities from outright conflict, but in the end all it does is maintain the status quo! I want to actually make a difference! I want to improve the life of my fellow Cheldrun in a meaningful way! Damn it, we cling to the mecha as the last vestige of our honor, the last important thing we are allowed to do in this world, like it is a rock in a swollen river! But they do not define us; we are more than simply mecha pilots, but if we continue the way we are that is all anyone, including we ourselves, will remember us as! Don't you see, I do not want to be a pilot because I need to prove that an Allskin can actually make a difference without a mecha! I need to prove it to you, and to myself and to everyone."
Ichirou looked at me sternly, but no longer with anger apparent. "I am not sure I will ever understand you, Kiyoshi."
"And as your brother, I am asking you to trust me anyway."
"In that case, of course. I apologize for my earlier temper; I misjudged your intentions. If you wish to bring honor to the clan in a manner other than being a mecha pilot, I will support you as well as I can. I am sure that father will say the same."
"Actually, father understands me better than you would think. He has already set up a meeting for me with his old friend, Lord Tsuchinaga Yamoto."
"That old lech? What good will he do you?"
"He is a Director of Goshi Corp. He says he might be able to get me a job there, eventually. I would like to work in Personnel so that I can help to improve the worker's conditions, but I will take what I can get and go from there."
"Kiyoshi, you are sixteen. I do not think you will be moving the world just yet."
"No, maybe not. But every journey must be taken one step at a time, and this could be my first step. Apparently I might be able to start at a low level position in Public Relations dealing with Karians of all things..."
*FLASH*
"And how do you feel about Karians now, Kiyoshi?"
I am once again floating in the blackness. The Void? Before me stands Una. "What do you mean?"
"Back then, and not very long ago for that matter, you considered Karians inherently inferior to Cheldrun. Do you still feel that way about my people?" She looks at me with tears in her eyes. "About me?"
I shake my head. "It is not that I considered them less it is just... they are not my people. I still do not understand what it is you see in me, why it is that you seem to have taken to me so, but I intend to ask you if I ever get out of here. In the last few weeks, after getting to know you, and Highdive, and Mokuzai, and Balder, and Grimm and all the rest... no, I would not call the Karians an inferior people."
"And after Nero, and Mama Pain and Katashi Blade... do you still hold your fellow Cheldrun up on such a pedestal? "
"Those are some rather extreme examples. I choose instead to look to Moses, and Yamoto, to my father and my brother, even to Rei who, despite everything, despite what she was made for, is trying for a better life and to be a better person. There is good and bad in all people, and in all peoples. I will continue to fight for the honor of the Cheldrun, because that is my duty, and to honor the vision of the First Minds. But I will no longer discount the wisdom of the Karians either."
"And what is this wisdom you seek?" The voice had changed again. I look up to find the wizened figure of Mokuzai before me now.
"These creatures that seem to feed on 'manna'. These marks, these Kata Kariana. It seems likely that Karians would know something about them."
"That we probably do, boy, that we probably do. There are thousands of secrets and bits of lore that we keep that would probably aid you."
"Like what?"
A look of annoyance passes over Mokuzai's face. "How would I know? I am not really Mokuzai, I am the personification of your concept of arcane Karian wisdom!"
"Oh. Right. Sorry, I forgot."
"One thing we will probably need your help with, though, is the Enemy. They found you, somehow, tracked you through the endless stars and now they are here to finish the job. You have seen that we are just as vulnerable to them as you are. Well, other Karians are as vulnerable to them as other Cheldrun. We may need the wisdom of the First Minds, as we have not faced such a foe before."
I frown in thought. "I remember a notice awhile back. Something that has been tickling my memory, because it seems similar. Something about dead Karians rising..."
*FLASH*
"Did you here the latest from the mines? Apparently the workers are in an uproar because some of the Gogajin are blaming the recent cave-in in Epsilon 8 on some sort of ghost called a 'Teeshee' or something. Can you imagine? I can't wait to hear what those backwards rustics come up with next!"
I heard this just as I turned the corner into the break room at Goshi Corp. It was someone in my department; Soni, or Sora or some such. I lose track of them with how quickly they transfer out; no Biomade wanted to work directly under an Allskin for long. I approached him and his laughing fellows, and was upon them before they noticed my presence. "I trust that these stories are not hurting the miners' moral, are they?"
The laughter cut off abruptly and the executives gaped at me for a moment before their leader responded. "Oh, you know Mechified; they'll believe anything they hear. I hear a lot of them don't even want to go into the sector anymore."
I frowned. "That could hurt productivity, which would discomfit Operations. And if Operations is discomfited by such a thing they will bring it to Personnel. And you can be damn sure that Personnel will bring it to PR, to my desk, to take care of. And that will mean a lot of extra paperwork. Extra work that I will be sure to delegate. So perhaps someone who seems to already be knowledgeable about the problem should take care of it before it escalates. We do not want the miners, our fellow Cheldrun who have recently suffered such a loss from the cave-in, to have to worry about silly superstitions when they will need to have safety foremost in their minds, do we?"
He sneered at me and looked like he was about to say something flippant. I simply gripped the left lens of my glasses and focused my gaze upon him, pinning him down with every once of authority I could muster. He quickly dropped his gaze and muttered, "No sir. I will get on it right away."
"That is a good man, showing some initiative. I want an announcement ready to go out about these Teeshee by tomorrow morning." I shifted my glare to take in his compatriots. "Do you gentlemen also find yourselves in need of assignments?" With hurried denials they all darted away to scurry back to their respective offices. I sighed. In order to achieve any level of respect as an Allskin Director I had to be ruthless. I went to the side table to help myself to some tea and a peanut bar.
*FLASH*
Highdive is crouched in front of me, chewing a large nut. Chew, chew. Chew, chew. Seemingly reluctant, she pulls out another one and holds it out to me. "Want one?"
I shake my head. "No, you go ahead." Without further ado she shoves it in her mouth, one cheek bulging with it as she continues to chew on the first nut. Munch, munch. Chew, chew. I clear my throat. "So, what do you represent?" She shrugs. Chew, chew. I glance about, but nothing is different. "So... did you have anything deep and important to say to me?"
She pauses for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. Finally she nods, and goes back to eating. Munch, munch. Chew, chew.
"Well?" I ask, somewhat exasperated.
She looks up at me thoughtfully and pronounces "You give good tummy rubs. You should do that more often." With a look of great dignity, she goes back to eating.
I blink. I blink again. "Oh. Okay."
Another familiar voice: "Do I get a tummy rub too?" I look up to see a too-young girl with bright pink hair. Her face changes from impish humor to... what? Wonder? "You saved my life; my soul I guess."
I want to tell her it was nothing, that it was simply my duty, but... I know she will take it the wrong way. And besides, I am not entirely sure that is the truth. All I say is "I guess I did. Are you just another figment of my imagination or are you the real Aimi projecting into my dreams again?"
She shrugs. "Does it matter?" I shake my head. Instantly she runs to me and hugs me like I am her last hope of survival. "Was that really the Enemy?"
"I... I think so." She smells good. She is fifteen! For a moment I think I see a shovel floating in midair out of the corner of my eye.
"I'm scared."
"Me too, Aimi. Me too." I stroke her hair as she clings to me.
This one is important. The voice seems to echo in my mind. "Who is there?" Aimi does not seem to notice the voice, nor that I have spoken.
She has a great part yet to play in the coming story. "Do you mean she is marked, like the rest of us? This Kata Kariana thing?"
There is more than one kind of mark. She has a destiny to fulfill. Perhaps not as great as yours, but important nonetheless. "That is not why I saved her."
I know. That is part of the reason that she is so important. "Who are you?"
*FLASH*
"Mecha are not the only First Mind artifacts that we use, as you know, simply the most prominent. Since you have chosen to pass on that particular inheritance, I present you with one that may fit you better. This is Keibatsu, the Blade of Celestial Judgment. It can cut through steel as easily as flesh, will never rust or pit, dull or break. You are sufficiently advanced in your Kenjutsu training that I believe you will make us proud by wielding this blade."
I knelt before my father and he placed Keibatsu in my hands for the first time. It seemed somehow... right.
There I am. "You are... Keibatsu?" I have been asleep for so long... but I have tasted the flesh of the Enemy once more. I begin to awaken. This is only the beginning, Kiyoshi. We are one, you and I, and we have much to do. The Enemy has returned. And I hunger.
Ichirou looked at me sternly, but no longer with anger apparent. "I am not sure I will ever understand you, Kiyoshi."
"And as your brother, I am asking you to trust me anyway."
"In that case, of course. I apologize for my earlier temper; I misjudged your intentions. If you wish to bring honor to the clan in a manner other than being a mecha pilot, I will support you as well as I can. I am sure that father will say the same."
"Actually, father understands me better than you would think. He has already set up a meeting for me with his old friend, Lord Tsuchinaga Yamoto."
"That old lech? What good will he do you?"
"He is a Director of Goshi Corp. He says he might be able to get me a job there, eventually. I would like to work in Personnel so that I can help to improve the worker's conditions, but I will take what I can get and go from there."
"Kiyoshi, you are sixteen. I do not think you will be moving the world just yet."
"No, maybe not. But every journey must be taken one step at a time, and this could be my first step. Apparently I might be able to start at a low level position in Public Relations dealing with Karians of all things..."
*FLASH*
"And how do you feel about Karians now, Kiyoshi?"
I am once again floating in the blackness. The Void? Before me stands Una. "What do you mean?"
"Back then, and not very long ago for that matter, you considered Karians inherently inferior to Cheldrun. Do you still feel that way about my people?" She looks at me with tears in her eyes. "About me?"
I shake my head. "It is not that I considered them less it is just... they are not my people. I still do not understand what it is you see in me, why it is that you seem to have taken to me so, but I intend to ask you if I ever get out of here. In the last few weeks, after getting to know you, and Highdive, and Mokuzai, and Balder, and Grimm and all the rest... no, I would not call the Karians an inferior people."
"And after Nero, and Mama Pain and Katashi Blade... do you still hold your fellow Cheldrun up on such a pedestal? "
"Those are some rather extreme examples. I choose instead to look to Moses, and Yamoto, to my father and my brother, even to Rei who, despite everything, despite what she was made for, is trying for a better life and to be a better person. There is good and bad in all people, and in all peoples. I will continue to fight for the honor of the Cheldrun, because that is my duty, and to honor the vision of the First Minds. But I will no longer discount the wisdom of the Karians either."
"And what is this wisdom you seek?" The voice had changed again. I look up to find the wizened figure of Mokuzai before me now.
"These creatures that seem to feed on 'manna'. These marks, these Kata Kariana. It seems likely that Karians would know something about them."
"That we probably do, boy, that we probably do. There are thousands of secrets and bits of lore that we keep that would probably aid you."
"Like what?"
A look of annoyance passes over Mokuzai's face. "How would I know? I am not really Mokuzai, I am the personification of your concept of arcane Karian wisdom!"
"Oh. Right. Sorry, I forgot."
"One thing we will probably need your help with, though, is the Enemy. They found you, somehow, tracked you through the endless stars and now they are here to finish the job. You have seen that we are just as vulnerable to them as you are. Well, other Karians are as vulnerable to them as other Cheldrun. We may need the wisdom of the First Minds, as we have not faced such a foe before."
I frown in thought. "I remember a notice awhile back. Something that has been tickling my memory, because it seems similar. Something about dead Karians rising..."
*FLASH*
"Did you here the latest from the mines? Apparently the workers are in an uproar because some of the Gogajin are blaming the recent cave-in in Epsilon 8 on some sort of ghost called a 'Teeshee' or something. Can you imagine? I can't wait to hear what those backwards rustics come up with next!"
I heard this just as I turned the corner into the break room at Goshi Corp. It was someone in my department; Soni, or Sora or some such. I lose track of them with how quickly they transfer out; no Biomade wanted to work directly under an Allskin for long. I approached him and his laughing fellows, and was upon them before they noticed my presence. "I trust that these stories are not hurting the miners' moral, are they?"
The laughter cut off abruptly and the executives gaped at me for a moment before their leader responded. "Oh, you know Mechified; they'll believe anything they hear. I hear a lot of them don't even want to go into the sector anymore."
I frowned. "That could hurt productivity, which would discomfit Operations. And if Operations is discomfited by such a thing they will bring it to Personnel. And you can be damn sure that Personnel will bring it to PR, to my desk, to take care of. And that will mean a lot of extra paperwork. Extra work that I will be sure to delegate. So perhaps someone who seems to already be knowledgeable about the problem should take care of it before it escalates. We do not want the miners, our fellow Cheldrun who have recently suffered such a loss from the cave-in, to have to worry about silly superstitions when they will need to have safety foremost in their minds, do we?"
He sneered at me and looked like he was about to say something flippant. I simply gripped the left lens of my glasses and focused my gaze upon him, pinning him down with every once of authority I could muster. He quickly dropped his gaze and muttered, "No sir. I will get on it right away."
"That is a good man, showing some initiative. I want an announcement ready to go out about these Teeshee by tomorrow morning." I shifted my glare to take in his compatriots. "Do you gentlemen also find yourselves in need of assignments?" With hurried denials they all darted away to scurry back to their respective offices. I sighed. In order to achieve any level of respect as an Allskin Director I had to be ruthless. I went to the side table to help myself to some tea and a peanut bar.
*FLASH*
Highdive is crouched in front of me, chewing a large nut. Chew, chew. Chew, chew. Seemingly reluctant, she pulls out another one and holds it out to me. "Want one?"
I shake my head. "No, you go ahead." Without further ado she shoves it in her mouth, one cheek bulging with it as she continues to chew on the first nut. Munch, munch. Chew, chew. I clear my throat. "So, what do you represent?" She shrugs. Chew, chew. I glance about, but nothing is different. "So... did you have anything deep and important to say to me?"
She pauses for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. Finally she nods, and goes back to eating. Munch, munch. Chew, chew.
"Well?" I ask, somewhat exasperated.
She looks up at me thoughtfully and pronounces "You give good tummy rubs. You should do that more often." With a look of great dignity, she goes back to eating.
I blink. I blink again. "Oh. Okay."
Another familiar voice: "Do I get a tummy rub too?" I look up to see a too-young girl with bright pink hair. Her face changes from impish humor to... what? Wonder? "You saved my life; my soul I guess."
I want to tell her it was nothing, that it was simply my duty, but... I know she will take it the wrong way. And besides, I am not entirely sure that is the truth. All I say is "I guess I did. Are you just another figment of my imagination or are you the real Aimi projecting into my dreams again?"
She shrugs. "Does it matter?" I shake my head. Instantly she runs to me and hugs me like I am her last hope of survival. "Was that really the Enemy?"
"I... I think so." She smells good. She is fifteen! For a moment I think I see a shovel floating in midair out of the corner of my eye.
"I'm scared."
"Me too, Aimi. Me too." I stroke her hair as she clings to me.
This one is important. The voice seems to echo in my mind. "Who is there?" Aimi does not seem to notice the voice, nor that I have spoken.
She has a great part yet to play in the coming story. "Do you mean she is marked, like the rest of us? This Kata Kariana thing?"
There is more than one kind of mark. She has a destiny to fulfill. Perhaps not as great as yours, but important nonetheless. "That is not why I saved her."
I know. That is part of the reason that she is so important. "Who are you?"
*FLASH*
"Mecha are not the only First Mind artifacts that we use, as you know, simply the most prominent. Since you have chosen to pass on that particular inheritance, I present you with one that may fit you better. This is Keibatsu, the Blade of Celestial Judgment. It can cut through steel as easily as flesh, will never rust or pit, dull or break. You are sufficiently advanced in your Kenjutsu training that I believe you will make us proud by wielding this blade."
I knelt before my father and he placed Keibatsu in my hands for the first time. It seemed somehow... right.
There I am. "You are... Keibatsu?" I have been asleep for so long... but I have tasted the flesh of the Enemy once more. I begin to awaken. This is only the beginning, Kiyoshi. We are one, you and I, and we have much to do. The Enemy has returned. And I hunger.
Episode 8, Part II: The Birth of a Demon
The train just jumped. I'm sure of it. The Zipsum is still chittering in a panic and the others begin climbing outside the train car to deal with whatever it is that has the Zipsum so spooked.
A voice like a thousand tormented souls resonates through everything in that car, including my own body.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."
Moses begins, well, tunneling through the roof. There's no way I'm dragging my creaking bones through a window. As if to answer my thoughts, a terrible howl, like the voice of the void beyond fills me with a terror I had only ever expected to feel once; the split second before my untimely death. The roof of the car is torn open like wrapping parchment, and I see the source of my doom. The body of a woman hangs suspended in the body of a creature that defies everything in existence. To gaze upon its grotesque form was to know the face of malice. Kiyoshi bares his sword, roaring his challenge into the demon's face, and his courage brings me back to my senses.
The tone was set, and the battle raged for what felt like an eternity. It repeatedly attempted to pull the very souls from our bodies, throwing our forms about like rag dolls while everything we threw at it seemed to only make it stronger... and larger. Hordes of eyeless dead hounded us from all sides, aiding their creator in its attempts to destroy us. A little green fireball seems to take care of them rather effectively... isn't that the Zipsum? No matter, it's too fast to focus on anyway.
The battle climaxes as the demon tears the car free from the rest of the train and hurls it, with us ON it, into a nearby building. As the car impacts, my body is thrown clear- through a plate glass window. Darkness overcomes me.
Water. Its raining. The water burns my whole body. Why? I'm covered in lacerations... some of them still full of glass shards. The memory of the battle with the demon floods back into my mind. The car landed lower than me. Go down. I slowly rise to my feet, barely noticing the screaming people running all around me. I make my way to a stairwell, jammed with panicked people. Best stay out of there old man, you're libel to get trampled. And so, I wait, bleeding.
Then, a figure runs up the stairs. Kiyoshi? Then a pink-haired girl. I know her from... somewhere... A heavy tromping heralds the passing of Moses, hot on the tails of the first two. I look down at my blood-soaked clothing, wondering just how bad the damage is. Well, at least they were courteous enough to clear a path. I ascend the stairs after them. Kiyoshi says something about "The Enemy" which stuns the pink-haired girl. Is that what we face? The girl looks at me over the shoulder of Moses as he scoops her up. She looks stunned, confused, and... terrified?
The battle rages on on the rooftop. It seems every time we strike it, the creature grows in size. The building starts collapsing, taking the demon and Moses with it. A voice on the wind calls to me, beckoning me. I listen, then a flash of light, the crack of thunder, and the smell of ozone fills my senses.
I'm standing in a snow-covered courtyard with a fire and a teapot in the middle. A feathered face appears in the smoke of the fire, and asks me to sit down and have some tea. Wasn't I just in a battle? Am I dead? The face and I begin chatting. It tests my resolve, tempting me with the easy way out.
The easy way out? Aren't I already dead? Hmph, I guess not. In any case, the riddle of peace is one I intend to solve.
"Yes, the riddle of peace. Your companions are important pieces of the puzzle, Mokuzai."
My companions. Are they alright? Has the demon destroyed them? Have I failed so soon?
"You could bring them here, Mokuzai. A priest would bring even unworthy souls to a holy place if they needed help and shelter."
A point well made, spirit- face- whatever you are.
"They are marked Mokuzai. Marked as you are. Take them to the chantry. Learn of the Kata Kariana, if your people have not forgotten."
My pride stings at the comment. We would NOT have forgotten.
A flash, the crack, the ozone- I am standing on a different rooftop next to Una. Good, she is safe.
In the distance, Goshi's armies are bombarding the demon with everything they have. Still it lives?!
The rest of my companions are scattered about around me in various states of repair. Kiyoshi and the Zipsum look like a pair of mis-matched corpses. No, there is life in them yet.
Rei looks at me suspiciously, "Where did you go? And how did you get here? Did your staff... eat you?"
I shake my head no. Dear child, there is so much you should learn.
The atmosphere fills with a sense of looming doom, drawing my gaze back to the demon in the distance. We must leave, NOW!
Moses begins tearing into a nearby wall, looking for an escape route. "Wait!" He stops, looking at me confused. I look at my companions. "Will you trust me?" Only Moses answers. "Take my staff Una, fly to the southern forest. I will safeguard the rest of us." With that, I open my will to the staff again, drawing all my compaions save Una with me.
The blinding light, the deafening crack, the stink of ozone.
Sages please, let this work.
A voice like a thousand tormented souls resonates through everything in that car, including my own body.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."
Moses begins, well, tunneling through the roof. There's no way I'm dragging my creaking bones through a window. As if to answer my thoughts, a terrible howl, like the voice of the void beyond fills me with a terror I had only ever expected to feel once; the split second before my untimely death. The roof of the car is torn open like wrapping parchment, and I see the source of my doom. The body of a woman hangs suspended in the body of a creature that defies everything in existence. To gaze upon its grotesque form was to know the face of malice. Kiyoshi bares his sword, roaring his challenge into the demon's face, and his courage brings me back to my senses.
The tone was set, and the battle raged for what felt like an eternity. It repeatedly attempted to pull the very souls from our bodies, throwing our forms about like rag dolls while everything we threw at it seemed to only make it stronger... and larger. Hordes of eyeless dead hounded us from all sides, aiding their creator in its attempts to destroy us. A little green fireball seems to take care of them rather effectively... isn't that the Zipsum? No matter, it's too fast to focus on anyway.
The battle climaxes as the demon tears the car free from the rest of the train and hurls it, with us ON it, into a nearby building. As the car impacts, my body is thrown clear- through a plate glass window. Darkness overcomes me.
Water. Its raining. The water burns my whole body. Why? I'm covered in lacerations... some of them still full of glass shards. The memory of the battle with the demon floods back into my mind. The car landed lower than me. Go down. I slowly rise to my feet, barely noticing the screaming people running all around me. I make my way to a stairwell, jammed with panicked people. Best stay out of there old man, you're libel to get trampled. And so, I wait, bleeding.
Then, a figure runs up the stairs. Kiyoshi? Then a pink-haired girl. I know her from... somewhere... A heavy tromping heralds the passing of Moses, hot on the tails of the first two. I look down at my blood-soaked clothing, wondering just how bad the damage is. Well, at least they were courteous enough to clear a path. I ascend the stairs after them. Kiyoshi says something about "The Enemy" which stuns the pink-haired girl. Is that what we face? The girl looks at me over the shoulder of Moses as he scoops her up. She looks stunned, confused, and... terrified?
The battle rages on on the rooftop. It seems every time we strike it, the creature grows in size. The building starts collapsing, taking the demon and Moses with it. A voice on the wind calls to me, beckoning me. I listen, then a flash of light, the crack of thunder, and the smell of ozone fills my senses.
I'm standing in a snow-covered courtyard with a fire and a teapot in the middle. A feathered face appears in the smoke of the fire, and asks me to sit down and have some tea. Wasn't I just in a battle? Am I dead? The face and I begin chatting. It tests my resolve, tempting me with the easy way out.
The easy way out? Aren't I already dead? Hmph, I guess not. In any case, the riddle of peace is one I intend to solve.
"Yes, the riddle of peace. Your companions are important pieces of the puzzle, Mokuzai."
My companions. Are they alright? Has the demon destroyed them? Have I failed so soon?
"You could bring them here, Mokuzai. A priest would bring even unworthy souls to a holy place if they needed help and shelter."
A point well made, spirit- face- whatever you are.
"They are marked Mokuzai. Marked as you are. Take them to the chantry. Learn of the Kata Kariana, if your people have not forgotten."
My pride stings at the comment. We would NOT have forgotten.
A flash, the crack, the ozone- I am standing on a different rooftop next to Una. Good, she is safe.
In the distance, Goshi's armies are bombarding the demon with everything they have. Still it lives?!
The rest of my companions are scattered about around me in various states of repair. Kiyoshi and the Zipsum look like a pair of mis-matched corpses. No, there is life in them yet.
Rei looks at me suspiciously, "Where did you go? And how did you get here? Did your staff... eat you?"
I shake my head no. Dear child, there is so much you should learn.
The atmosphere fills with a sense of looming doom, drawing my gaze back to the demon in the distance. We must leave, NOW!
Moses begins tearing into a nearby wall, looking for an escape route. "Wait!" He stops, looking at me confused. I look at my companions. "Will you trust me?" Only Moses answers. "Take my staff Una, fly to the southern forest. I will safeguard the rest of us." With that, I open my will to the staff again, drawing all my compaions save Una with me.
The blinding light, the deafening crack, the stink of ozone.
Sages please, let this work.
And the Winner is...
The First 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 One, the clear winner was 'Surrender or Else' which also has the distinction of having been the longest episode of this season. During this immortal episode our Heroes' participation in the insurrection of the Underground Mechified Army against Goshi Corp came to a head when Moses, the inspirational leader of the Mechified rebels decided to surrender himself to prevent further violence. Much to his dismay the episode ended in a full-scale civil-war breaking out in the streets.
In the category of Favorite NPC of Season One,
another landslide victory gave the award to Aimi. The churlish, sexy, dangerous assassin sibling of Rei and love-interest of Kiyoshi was the group's favorite recurring nemesis. Memorable moments include her sticking her knife in Moses, or Kiyoshi or even Garandou Oni and paralyzing them. Was it her potent blade or her startling eyes?The player-characters also voted on awards for each other. The winners of these awards will be profiled in subsequent days.
Hunger
I live the truth of teeth.
Life is a dance of hunger and rest, rest and hunger, light and dark. Hunger devours other wills, leaving only one will, the deepest will, the will of teeth.
The blood of the tree-dwellers tastes like rain, and it spills slow down the lips.
The blood of the brawlers is like mead, bright and sweet on the tongue
The blood of the singers tingles and burns, swimming in the belly and echoing in the bones.
The blood of the seekers is thin and fine - so our stories tell. I have not tasted it. Yet.
The blood of the talkers burns the teeth, but it warms the paws as it wells up and out.
The children of steel taste of rust. Their bones are strange and the marrow thick. They are hard to take - leap! Bite! Shake so bones crack! Clench to stop the wind! And watch for their stings.
Hunger comes from deep in the land, deep in Karia. I hunt in dreams and when waking. The children of steel are hungry and devour and shit it out. They do not learn, they do not grow.
I am hungry, and I eat, and I remember. Those who are within me teach me, their living blood mingling with mine, their last gasps swallowed whole. They move through me, and teach me of their power.
If you have not tasted blood, hot and fresh and flowing, you cannot know. In blood there is memory. In bones the soul dwells. Crack the bones and lick them clean, chew the skin and eat the meat, in the darkness outside their camps, in the shadow of their machines, far from their fire and stings.
I eat, and I learn, and I grow. Karia grows.
I am the hunger of Karia.
Life is a dance of hunger and rest, rest and hunger, light and dark. Hunger devours other wills, leaving only one will, the deepest will, the will of teeth.
The blood of the tree-dwellers tastes like rain, and it spills slow down the lips.
The blood of the brawlers is like mead, bright and sweet on the tongue
The blood of the singers tingles and burns, swimming in the belly and echoing in the bones.
The blood of the seekers is thin and fine - so our stories tell. I have not tasted it. Yet.
The blood of the talkers burns the teeth, but it warms the paws as it wells up and out.
The children of steel taste of rust. Their bones are strange and the marrow thick. They are hard to take - leap! Bite! Shake so bones crack! Clench to stop the wind! And watch for their stings.
Hunger comes from deep in the land, deep in Karia. I hunt in dreams and when waking. The children of steel are hungry and devour and shit it out. They do not learn, they do not grow.
I am hungry, and I eat, and I remember. Those who are within me teach me, their living blood mingling with mine, their last gasps swallowed whole. They move through me, and teach me of their power.
If you have not tasted blood, hot and fresh and flowing, you cannot know. In blood there is memory. In bones the soul dwells. Crack the bones and lick them clean, chew the skin and eat the meat, in the darkness outside their camps, in the shadow of their machines, far from their fire and stings.
I eat, and I learn, and I grow. Karia grows.
I am the hunger of Karia.
Shadows and Mist
There are thin places in the world, places where the boundary between the sunlit world of life and energy and whatever lies beyond is little more than a thin cloth draped over the landscape. At least, that is what Inari’s mother had always told him, but here, in the Forest of Shadows, he believed it. It was a forest within the forest: a remnant of the old growth with a much newer wood grown up all around it. The newer wood held no mysteries, but this... this was something special. Geneva Prime was several hundred kilometers further north, but that was not his destination. The Cheldrun logging operations were closer than that, but they was not his concern, either. Not yet.
A perpetual dusk clung to the forest floor. The sunlight was a dim and faded thing; something there was in the shadows here that resisted revelation; something there was in the shadows here that denied illumination. A thin mist clung to the forest floor, drifting slowly through the underbrush, over root and under bough. Shadows lay across his path in every direction; deep, shifting shadows and shaken, shattered sunlight. A gleam here, a gleam there. A sense of Presence. Inari did not know what would happen when the logging efforts of the Cheldrun reached this part of the forest, but he suspected it would be bad.
Very bad.
The young Prill made his way through the mist, piercing it like an arrow. It took nearly a minute for it to close in behind and vanish his trail. Even as mist and shadows gathered menacingly under the roots of a nearby tree, Inari voiced a quiet prayer, hoping for Karia’s protection, hoping not to offend the spirits that haunted this place.
TeeShee. Were there really such things?
There were two Karian settlements close to the Forest of Shadows, a Zipsum village and a Gogajin encampment, but though the Jevuum were known to prowl the lands around the forest’s heart, Karians did not come to this part of the wood. The old tales spoke of ghostly lights in the mist. It was said that to see these lights was to know the hour of your death. It was also said that when the lights came, a wise Karian could make a bargain with the spirits of the dead. Knowledge could be gained, and secrets learned that had not been spoken since the world was new.
Inari was not a very wise Karian, but he hoped that daring would do just as well.
He came out of the forest all at once, stumbling slightly as a single step carried him through a veil of mist and shadows and into a vast clearing at the very heart of the land. Though the young Prill knew that it was several hours yet before sunset, here, it was night. The stars gleamed like jewels in the black, and an unearthly chill hung heavy in the air. Before him was a vast, cold lake, its waters glowing with a faint blue light, refracting off of the trees, and the brush, and the shadows, and the mist with every shift and every ripple of the wind. Mist clung faintly to the surface of the water.
He stared.
A pathway lay before him, great rocks rising up from the depths of the glowing lake, their tops serving as humble stepping stones. He wondered at the justice of it. Such mighty boulders surely deserved more than that, but there they were. In the middle of the lake was a green island. Green moss, green grass, trees with green leaves, a stark contrast to the purple forest all around the lake. A stone altar sat a short way from the island’s shore.
Inari stepped forward. “I have come seeking the wisdom of those who went before,” he announced. He produced a small knife, cut his hand, and spilled three drops of blood into the lake. “I make my offering. One for those who went before. One for those who dwell in the sunlit world. One for those yet unborn.”
The red of his blood seeped through the lake, colouring its water, colouring its light far in excess of what was offered. A red haze sprang up, and a voice whispered from the shadows like the wind through the leaves, “Go back. You are not of the ones we seek.”
Inari nearly dropped his knife. He had not until this moment actually expected that anything would happen. “I have come seeking wisdom. My quest...”
“Is not our concern. You bear not the Mark. The way is shut. Leave us, Fox-child.”
The red light began to fade.
“Wait!” Inari called. To have come so far and get nothing? This was intolerable. He stepped onto the first of the stepping stones, then the second. “Wait, you can’t just send me away! Elder Winter sent me on a sacred quest.”
The red light went out, and for a moment Inari stood in pitch darkness, only the stars visible overhead and yet illuminating nothing of his surroundings. Then the stars too faded, and he knew no more.
When he returned to his senses, he lay facedown at the border of the Forest of Shadows. The sun shone brightly, and the air was clear. His head hurt like it had been beaten on by a horde of sugar-high Zipsum. Groggily, he sat up and rubbed his head.
Episode 8, Part I: The Birth of a Demon
The blood on the walls still ran a little; they hadn't been dead long. Even as I turn towards our guide, Kiyoshi charges up the stairs to our host's audience chamber, his fellows hot on his heels.
"Does this happen often?" I ask Samara.
"To us, yes." The metal man says as he hefts a large piece of furniture and begins lumbering up the stairs.
Just who have I gotten myself tangled with?
The sound of screaming pulls me from my thoughts and I pursue my new companions. Our host, Tsuchinaga Yamoto is dying, and several of his playthings are already dead. One of them is strangling another as calm as if she were folding clothes. Are these Cheldrun insane?
Rei claims it is the work of her brother, Nero, and that he is here looking for something. She plans to stop him.
Is it so wise to stand in the way of one who kills with such recklessness?
She says he can compel others to do things they would never do.
Goshi compelled YOU, Oathbreaker. My anger begins to rise.
The others, save Kiyoshi descend after Rei. Kiyoshi wishes to bid his friend farewell in private. Very well, such must be your custom.
In the distance, I hear explosions and the death screams of innocents.
How does one make peace with that which isn't at peace with itself?
Rei beckons me; I must have gotten lost in my thoughts again.
I embrace the Song of Clarity as we descend. My thoughts clear and sharpen to a bleeding edge. Something about these 5 is special. Something about them carries part of the answer to my riddle, the riddle that brought me here... the Riddle of Peace. I let the Songs flow through them. There, that should help.
I continue to question Rei about her family relations. Do all Biomade siblings have this degree of rivalry? How do they survive past 12? She assures me she's a special case. Just how special? What is the answer to your riddle, young one?
A screaming woman covered in blood lunges at Una, taking us all by surprise. My protective instincts rise; the Song of Tempest is roused. Fortunately for her assailant, she gives up her assault when Una wounds her. I continue to channel the Song. If there is to be battle, I will be prepared.
The metal man- Una called him... Moses? Yes. Moses -is holding a cask of wine and fits it with a burning rag. Where did he find a keg of wine? Your excessive ponderings are making you miss things, old man.
Kiyoshi slashes open a door, and I see our quarry for the first time. Rei exchanges words with this... child? What sort of people births children capable of such evil?
Another figure stands in the room, dripping with water? I suddenly realize my feet are cold. We've been walking in water. The thought of releasing the Tempest strikes me as a very bad idea.
And then hell breaks loose. A barrel flies through the air and bursts into flame, knives whirl across the room, striking Moses and Una. Una! I must help her! Kiyoshi is surrounded by a whirlwind of purple droplets, and the figure in the middle of the room bursts into a Tempest of its own, sending us all staggering. A knife buries itself below my collar bone. Pain. A fireball explodes around Rei, sending Kiyoshi and Moses flying. Una screams in rage, and the skin seems to melt off Nero's arm, and then, it's over.
What in Karia did you get yourself into, old man?
The figure in the middle of the room is jabbering about Mana, marks, and... Kata Kariana? You've heard of these things, old man. Age it seems, has the benefit of knowledge and experience. It wants White Rock. It eats that horrid substance?
Goshi is still fresh in your mind, isn't it Oathbreaker. They used the white rock to make you break your oath. I already have a dislike for this creature.
The Tempest jolts through my body, and blackness envelops me. White rock again. I'm really beginning to hate this substance.
Finally I come to. We're leaving. Why did we come down here?
We come again to the audience chamber, where lies the headless body of our host. Do all Cheldrun friends offer each other such a death? At least he was dignified with a silken death shroud.
Samara briefs us on our escape, and we are taken to a train station. I still hear the explosions and the screaming.
Even Jevuum have more mercy than this...
The train ride is, for lack of a better word, putrid. Do these Cheldrun dirty everything they touch? Aren't they capable of beautification?
Rei asks me not to apply my observations to my perception of all Cheldrun. At least she understands how hard that is, given recent circumstances.
Another explosion shakes the train violently and the brakes bring us to a screeching halt.
"Where is the Zipsum?" I ask, annoyed, as the little green creature streaks in from outside, chittering about demons, starting the train, and something about candy.
You know, old man, you ask far too many questions.
"Does this happen often?" I ask Samara.
"To us, yes." The metal man says as he hefts a large piece of furniture and begins lumbering up the stairs.
Just who have I gotten myself tangled with?
The sound of screaming pulls me from my thoughts and I pursue my new companions. Our host, Tsuchinaga Yamoto is dying, and several of his playthings are already dead. One of them is strangling another as calm as if she were folding clothes. Are these Cheldrun insane?
Rei claims it is the work of her brother, Nero, and that he is here looking for something. She plans to stop him.
Is it so wise to stand in the way of one who kills with such recklessness?
She says he can compel others to do things they would never do.
Goshi compelled YOU, Oathbreaker. My anger begins to rise.
The others, save Kiyoshi descend after Rei. Kiyoshi wishes to bid his friend farewell in private. Very well, such must be your custom.
In the distance, I hear explosions and the death screams of innocents.
How does one make peace with that which isn't at peace with itself?
Rei beckons me; I must have gotten lost in my thoughts again.
I embrace the Song of Clarity as we descend. My thoughts clear and sharpen to a bleeding edge. Something about these 5 is special. Something about them carries part of the answer to my riddle, the riddle that brought me here... the Riddle of Peace. I let the Songs flow through them. There, that should help.
I continue to question Rei about her family relations. Do all Biomade siblings have this degree of rivalry? How do they survive past 12? She assures me she's a special case. Just how special? What is the answer to your riddle, young one?
A screaming woman covered in blood lunges at Una, taking us all by surprise. My protective instincts rise; the Song of Tempest is roused. Fortunately for her assailant, she gives up her assault when Una wounds her. I continue to channel the Song. If there is to be battle, I will be prepared.
The metal man- Una called him... Moses? Yes. Moses -is holding a cask of wine and fits it with a burning rag. Where did he find a keg of wine? Your excessive ponderings are making you miss things, old man.
Kiyoshi slashes open a door, and I see our quarry for the first time. Rei exchanges words with this... child? What sort of people births children capable of such evil?
Another figure stands in the room, dripping with water? I suddenly realize my feet are cold. We've been walking in water. The thought of releasing the Tempest strikes me as a very bad idea.
And then hell breaks loose. A barrel flies through the air and bursts into flame, knives whirl across the room, striking Moses and Una. Una! I must help her! Kiyoshi is surrounded by a whirlwind of purple droplets, and the figure in the middle of the room bursts into a Tempest of its own, sending us all staggering. A knife buries itself below my collar bone. Pain. A fireball explodes around Rei, sending Kiyoshi and Moses flying. Una screams in rage, and the skin seems to melt off Nero's arm, and then, it's over.
What in Karia did you get yourself into, old man?
The figure in the middle of the room is jabbering about Mana, marks, and... Kata Kariana? You've heard of these things, old man. Age it seems, has the benefit of knowledge and experience. It wants White Rock. It eats that horrid substance?
Goshi is still fresh in your mind, isn't it Oathbreaker. They used the white rock to make you break your oath. I already have a dislike for this creature.
The Tempest jolts through my body, and blackness envelops me. White rock again. I'm really beginning to hate this substance.
Finally I come to. We're leaving. Why did we come down here?
We come again to the audience chamber, where lies the headless body of our host. Do all Cheldrun friends offer each other such a death? At least he was dignified with a silken death shroud.
Samara briefs us on our escape, and we are taken to a train station. I still hear the explosions and the screaming.
Even Jevuum have more mercy than this...
The train ride is, for lack of a better word, putrid. Do these Cheldrun dirty everything they touch? Aren't they capable of beautification?
Rei asks me not to apply my observations to my perception of all Cheldrun. At least she understands how hard that is, given recent circumstances.
Another explosion shakes the train violently and the brakes bring us to a screeching halt.
"Where is the Zipsum?" I ask, annoyed, as the little green creature streaks in from outside, chittering about demons, starting the train, and something about candy.
You know, old man, you ask far too many questions.
Prelude to the End of Season One
From the deck of Goshi's flagship Mothra, a Mechified seaman on break surveyed the bustle in the port. Puffing the stub of a cigar, his eyes followed the progress of a newly emptied freight-train up the steep rails to the tunnels which would lead into the valley of Geneva Prime. The city itself was obscured from view here, but over the edge of the mountain he could see wisps of smoke rising, a sign that the chaos was ongoing. Fuckin' unpreceden'ed, he thought. Never thought I'd see the day when Goshi was out of control in their own city.
A chill rippled down his furnace-heated torso. Instinctually he looked up to the state room balconies and caught sight of a man, all in white, on the highest level. The seaman knew he'd been overheard.
Jump overboard. The command was matter of fact, betraying no emotion, but brooking no disobedience.
The plunge into the filthy harbor water was surprisingly serene. Panic didn't set in until he was two-thirds of the way to the murky bottom and realized how difficult it is to swim when your body is a metric tonne of metal.
***
The thoughts of Katashi Blade, like icy wind, rushed over the telepathic network into the ear piece of the Vice President for Distribution, Rain. Yes, Executor. As you command.
Ever the instrument of precision, Rain, had taken over as acting director of Security, in addition to her other roles. The officers in Goshi's security force had come to hold her in a kind of awe already, in her first day. She was far less capricious than their previous superiors, but also completely immune to bargaining. Failure meant termination, and she demonstrated this immediately by issuing orders to banish the loved ones of every officer up the chain of command who had been involved in the debacle at the mine entrance. Yes, she used the word debacle, and she meant it. Nothing like that would be happening under her watch.
Especially not now. While Katashi Blade journeyed to Marina to hold another demonstration of the White Rock DisLocator for the Biomade Oversight Council, this time without interruptions, she was effectively the most powerful person in Geneva Prime. That meant she was responsible, and while Rain was responsible things were going to function like clockwork.
The Executor's orders might have shocked another person, but Rain, didn't hesitate for a moment. Her mind went straight to work calculating costs and came to the same conclusion, she imagined, as him. It would be cheaper this way, and send a message not likely to be forgotten in the near future. She pressed the button on her intercom, a pink light bloomed.
"Yes, director?"
Rain thought carefully about her exact words, "Order the Heishi to begin deploying heat bombs in sectors 4, 35, 171 & 215. Do not stop until I notify them I have received the unconditional surrender of the Underground Mechified Army."
There was stunned silence from the other end.
"Don't think about it, just do it. It's a long walk for your loved ones to get to Stardown from here." She clicked the intercom off, her mind still rattling out a cost-benefit analysis.
***
Out the windows of the Goshi Tower the streets of central Geneva Prime were a battleground. After the initial onslaught at the mine entrance it had spilled into nearby slums, becoming a guerrilla war of slow attrition, confusion and chaos. Goshi soldiers ran in columns down the streets, firing up at insurgents tossing homemade bombs from tenement windows, or disappearing into alleyways. Countless Mechified, spurred by the heroic display put on by Moses at the memorial, had swelled the ranks of the insurgents till it was impossible even for the UMA to know who was a combatant and who was a bystander. As a result, everyone became a target for Goshi bullets.
Behind a manufacturing plant a Heishi breathed his last gasps as a pneumatic hammer pounded like a piston through his skull. Amos shook the gore from his metal arm and looked defiantly at the ring of blue-armored elite soldiers around him. His face was wild and streaked with oil, which he spit in brown streaks from his chapped lips. Who knows what was broken, but it was leaking into his lungs and it tasted like shit.
"C'mon motherfuckers. I haven't had a conscience since my brother Omar was killed. Get too close to my hammer here and you won't have one anymore either."
The Heishi pounced all together. Amos disappeared under a wave of blue.
***
A muscular hand burst up out of the rubble. Concrete dust settled all around. With superhuman effort someone slowly lifted a massive slab, formerly of the ceiling and, placing their feet under it, heaved it to the side with a crunch. From within the rubble of a destroyed tenement, thin wheezing breaths could be faintly heard.
The slow emergence of this casualty from the fallen structure went completely unnoticed by columns of soldiers jogging past in the street. Neither did they notice a small mechified boy weeping in an alleyway over the corpse of his mother, recently retrieved from the same collapsed building. They jogged by with determination, eyes scanning only for potential threats, missing the signs of anguish around them.
The hand grabbed a piece of rebar and heaved. Statuesque shoulders, dreadlocked hair, and then the whole upper body of Balder the Gogajin rose from the ruins. Concrete dust caked in his wounds, labored breathing betraying a pierced lung, his back a nightmare landscape of bullet wounds, half of his face crusted over with an unsightly scab, Balder dragged himself to his feet, and walked on a broken ankle into the street. Instead of blood, his veins flowed with righteous anger and there were some Goshi soldiers nearby who were good candidates to help him do some anger management.
***
The students at Washi San academy were sombre listening to the announcement. It made no sense. Lord Daitokuji Ichirou, patriarch of the Silver Phoenix Clan and first pilot of the academy turned traitor? They might as well have said that gravity temporarily reversed directions or, contrary to all former knowledge, the sun really does revolve around Karia. Impossible. Ichirou and traitor were words that never belonged in the same sentence together unless the traitor was being struck down by Ichirou.
Whatever the students thought, the Grand Master knew what was necessary to save his academy. However much it grieved him, he must cooperate with Goshi and order his students to pursue and capture Ichirou at any opportunity. With a solemnity bordering on the funeral of a beloved monarch the students struck Ichirou's banner - the purple field with three silver feathers. They removed it from the place of honor and ritually desecrated it. The Silver Phoenix clan would require a long time to overcome this dishonor.
***
A nurse rolled her cart down the corridor checking room numbers - ah 324. She looked at the checklist and noting the patient's name, Malicious, withdrew a serial coded syringe from the appropriate compartment. As a precaution none of the nurses in this hospital ever know what the syringes contain, since many of the patients are telepathic and it increases distress if they realize what treatment they are given. Thus, blissfully ignorant, this prim young nurse went into the room where a teenage girl with ebony hair lay unconscious in traction.
She checked the patient's pulse, steady. Listened to her breathing, even. Then turned her arm so that she could have access to a vein, nice and plump.
The syringe went in silently and the clear fluid was dispensed in moments. The orderly rubbed the spot with a little cotton swab to get the drop of blood, and cheerily departed.
Malicious was dead before the door swung closed.
***
Karia watched all of this with something bordering on obsession. Such an intricate web. So complex, the chains of consequences. So many purposes being fulfilled and denied, discovered and destroyed. Karia knew that, as a planet, she had no pulse, even still she felt her heart pounding. There will be ramifications, she whispered, for all of this. There will be prices to be paid and yet...The thing which continually drew her back to this scene is the amazing depths to which these people reached in themselves to find the price that is asked and meet it. Almost instinctually, they seem to understand that their lives matter.
Not just their lives. All lives. Life itself is the question that the cosmos are asking. It could all so easily not be. A tiny shift of a universal constant here, a miniscule blip in the laws of physics there. The universe sat back like an artist considering the composition, undecided. Paint it back to white? Or let the riot of colors continue...
The marked ones, the ones that Karia had cursed with gifts, they would be the pivotal actors in this drama. How would they answer the question? Karia wondered. No, she practically shrieked and danced about in anticipation. Did they feel it? Did they intuit the answer? Did they know the enormous burden that was being placed on them, or comprehend the vastness of that one word question:
Life?
A chill rippled down his furnace-heated torso. Instinctually he looked up to the state room balconies and caught sight of a man, all in white, on the highest level. The seaman knew he'd been overheard.
Jump overboard. The command was matter of fact, betraying no emotion, but brooking no disobedience.
The plunge into the filthy harbor water was surprisingly serene. Panic didn't set in until he was two-thirds of the way to the murky bottom and realized how difficult it is to swim when your body is a metric tonne of metal.
***
The thoughts of Katashi Blade, like icy wind, rushed over the telepathic network into the ear piece of the Vice President for Distribution, Rain. Yes, Executor. As you command.
Ever the instrument of precision, Rain, had taken over as acting director of Security, in addition to her other roles. The officers in Goshi's security force had come to hold her in a kind of awe already, in her first day. She was far less capricious than their previous superiors, but also completely immune to bargaining. Failure meant termination, and she demonstrated this immediately by issuing orders to banish the loved ones of every officer up the chain of command who had been involved in the debacle at the mine entrance. Yes, she used the word debacle, and she meant it. Nothing like that would be happening under her watch.
Especially not now. While Katashi Blade journeyed to Marina to hold another demonstration of the White Rock DisLocator for the Biomade Oversight Council, this time without interruptions, she was effectively the most powerful person in Geneva Prime. That meant she was responsible, and while Rain was responsible things were going to function like clockwork.
The Executor's orders might have shocked another person, but Rain, didn't hesitate for a moment. Her mind went straight to work calculating costs and came to the same conclusion, she imagined, as him. It would be cheaper this way, and send a message not likely to be forgotten in the near future. She pressed the button on her intercom, a pink light bloomed.
"Yes, director?"
Rain thought carefully about her exact words, "Order the Heishi to begin deploying heat bombs in sectors 4, 35, 171 & 215. Do not stop until I notify them I have received the unconditional surrender of the Underground Mechified Army."
There was stunned silence from the other end.
"Don't think about it, just do it. It's a long walk for your loved ones to get to Stardown from here." She clicked the intercom off, her mind still rattling out a cost-benefit analysis.
***
Out the windows of the Goshi Tower the streets of central Geneva Prime were a battleground. After the initial onslaught at the mine entrance it had spilled into nearby slums, becoming a guerrilla war of slow attrition, confusion and chaos. Goshi soldiers ran in columns down the streets, firing up at insurgents tossing homemade bombs from tenement windows, or disappearing into alleyways. Countless Mechified, spurred by the heroic display put on by Moses at the memorial, had swelled the ranks of the insurgents till it was impossible even for the UMA to know who was a combatant and who was a bystander. As a result, everyone became a target for Goshi bullets.
Behind a manufacturing plant a Heishi breathed his last gasps as a pneumatic hammer pounded like a piston through his skull. Amos shook the gore from his metal arm and looked defiantly at the ring of blue-armored elite soldiers around him. His face was wild and streaked with oil, which he spit in brown streaks from his chapped lips. Who knows what was broken, but it was leaking into his lungs and it tasted like shit.
"C'mon motherfuckers. I haven't had a conscience since my brother Omar was killed. Get too close to my hammer here and you won't have one anymore either."
The Heishi pounced all together. Amos disappeared under a wave of blue.
***
A muscular hand burst up out of the rubble. Concrete dust settled all around. With superhuman effort someone slowly lifted a massive slab, formerly of the ceiling and, placing their feet under it, heaved it to the side with a crunch. From within the rubble of a destroyed tenement, thin wheezing breaths could be faintly heard.
The slow emergence of this casualty from the fallen structure went completely unnoticed by columns of soldiers jogging past in the street. Neither did they notice a small mechified boy weeping in an alleyway over the corpse of his mother, recently retrieved from the same collapsed building. They jogged by with determination, eyes scanning only for potential threats, missing the signs of anguish around them.
The hand grabbed a piece of rebar and heaved. Statuesque shoulders, dreadlocked hair, and then the whole upper body of Balder the Gogajin rose from the ruins. Concrete dust caked in his wounds, labored breathing betraying a pierced lung, his back a nightmare landscape of bullet wounds, half of his face crusted over with an unsightly scab, Balder dragged himself to his feet, and walked on a broken ankle into the street. Instead of blood, his veins flowed with righteous anger and there were some Goshi soldiers nearby who were good candidates to help him do some anger management.
***
The students at Washi San academy were sombre listening to the announcement. It made no sense. Lord Daitokuji Ichirou, patriarch of the Silver Phoenix Clan and first pilot of the academy turned traitor? They might as well have said that gravity temporarily reversed directions or, contrary to all former knowledge, the sun really does revolve around Karia. Impossible. Ichirou and traitor were words that never belonged in the same sentence together unless the traitor was being struck down by Ichirou.
Whatever the students thought, the Grand Master knew what was necessary to save his academy. However much it grieved him, he must cooperate with Goshi and order his students to pursue and capture Ichirou at any opportunity. With a solemnity bordering on the funeral of a beloved monarch the students struck Ichirou's banner - the purple field with three silver feathers. They removed it from the place of honor and ritually desecrated it. The Silver Phoenix clan would require a long time to overcome this dishonor.
***
A nurse rolled her cart down the corridor checking room numbers - ah 324. She looked at the checklist and noting the patient's name, Malicious, withdrew a serial coded syringe from the appropriate compartment. As a precaution none of the nurses in this hospital ever know what the syringes contain, since many of the patients are telepathic and it increases distress if they realize what treatment they are given. Thus, blissfully ignorant, this prim young nurse went into the room where a teenage girl with ebony hair lay unconscious in traction.
She checked the patient's pulse, steady. Listened to her breathing, even. Then turned her arm so that she could have access to a vein, nice and plump.
The syringe went in silently and the clear fluid was dispensed in moments. The orderly rubbed the spot with a little cotton swab to get the drop of blood, and cheerily departed.
Malicious was dead before the door swung closed.
***
Karia watched all of this with something bordering on obsession. Such an intricate web. So complex, the chains of consequences. So many purposes being fulfilled and denied, discovered and destroyed. Karia knew that, as a planet, she had no pulse, even still she felt her heart pounding. There will be ramifications, she whispered, for all of this. There will be prices to be paid and yet...The thing which continually drew her back to this scene is the amazing depths to which these people reached in themselves to find the price that is asked and meet it. Almost instinctually, they seem to understand that their lives matter.
Not just their lives. All lives. Life itself is the question that the cosmos are asking. It could all so easily not be. A tiny shift of a universal constant here, a miniscule blip in the laws of physics there. The universe sat back like an artist considering the composition, undecided. Paint it back to white? Or let the riot of colors continue...
The marked ones, the ones that Karia had cursed with gifts, they would be the pivotal actors in this drama. How would they answer the question? Karia wondered. No, she practically shrieked and danced about in anticipation. Did they feel it? Did they intuit the answer? Did they know the enormous burden that was being placed on them, or comprehend the vastness of that one word question:
Life?
Episode 7: Rei's Homecoming
Pain. Incredible, overwhelming pain. I am... I am... who am I?
There was gas; I was able to fight it off by controlling my breathing, but there was nowhere to go. Then darkness, and then... three. Sever. Stitch. Another, an older girl about Rei's age Malicious, someone called her Malicious and they beat me and they strapped me to a table. But you cut her first, didn't you? You cut your enemy before you were overwhelmed. They cannot take that away...
An older woman. A robot? No, just a Biomade who had forgotten what it is to be Cheldrun. No matter. She injected me with... pain. She said I would hurt forever now. She was right. I retreated into the Void. I tried to shut my body down... so close to death, barely breathing, heartbeat practically gone. For a long time there was nothing, only the Void, and I was almost gone for good. Damn you, who am I?! Then I was back and in agony. The woman was angry, sweating; she had been working very hard to cause me this pain, to draw me out. She succeeded. Now it is time to die. I taunted her, hoping I could make her kill me. Even if I could not, I would not give her the satisfaction of thinking she had broken me. Bitch.
It went on forever. It starts with a K. My name. And then... it stopped. I became aware of a strange sound and the woman told someone to go check on it. She said I was unconscious. Almost, but not quite. Almost dead, but not quite. It did not really matter to me, but then I heard an even stranger sound, a keening and a horrible chittering; screams that were not my own. Such things exist? I saw her, the woman, fighting off something small and green. It seemed vaguely familiar, like I had known what it was once... WHO AM I? Then it was over. The woman had tried to stab the green thing with a syringe and stabbed herself instead. Now she lay there, unmoving. Dead. I envied her.
There was some tugging at my restraints, and then I was being moved. The pain was too much; I passed out. Will I ever wake again? Do I want to?
I awaken. The pain is not so bad. There is a woman hugging me, weeping. Mother? No, not my mother. My mother is mercifully dead these many years now. Funny I remember that when I do not even recall who I am. Three syllables. My name has three syllables. I feel like I should know this woman who is hugging me. Her tears make me feel better; her embrace feels warm and right. But I cannot recall her. Pretty purple feathers.
There is a man too. My... brother? Yes, he is your brother. But who are you? Who am I? Are we even the same person? The sight of him reminds me. I need... something. I reach for it; it is not there. I start gasping and babbling. I do not understand my own words, but my brother does, and the weeping woman. Both of them look horrified by what I am saying. I need my... honor. What is missing is my honor. I notice that my hair has been cut; it used to be quite long, I remember, but now it is raggedly cut to just above my ears. My honor is my life, and now it is gone. It is more important even than my name. I have lost them both, but my honor is more important...
They clean and bandage and clothe me. I do not care. They lead me somewhere; there is a large man and a pretty girl who tries to speak to my mind. I do not care. There is a fat man who welcomes us, and another man. A prill. Mokuzai. Not important. He says he will help us leave the city. I cannot leave, I must find my honor! And my name. I almost have it...
I sleep. Even in sleep I am in pain. Even in my dreams, one thought pervades. I have lost my honor. It is the longest night of my life. Every minute is eternity. I awaken to find a little green squirrel on my chest. She chitters sadly at me and proffers a small pouch; mine, I think, from long ago. But it is too small to contain my honor. I pet the squirrel and she curls up on my chest Pain! and goes to sleep. I too sleep, I think. It is hard to tell the difference. And it does not really matter.
There is a familiar presence, and something brushes my cheek. For just an instant I forget my pain and everything seems right. I open my eyes. The window is open and the curtains are flapping. Beside me lies my honor. Keibatsu. Aimi brought it back to me; she is still playing a game with me. Does she really care? Does it matter? She is free now, free to live a life as she chooses if she will only seize it. And yet she is still playing games with me. Why? No matter. Keibatsu is back. I feel a tear slide down my face and I thank Aimi for giving me back my honor. I will remember this kindness; I owe her.
In the morning I break my fast and garb myself. Outside I meet with the others. They seem surprised and pleased that I am seemingly recovered. It still hurts, but I have discovered that I am not as hurt as I feel; the pain is ever present, and thus, in a strange way, easier to ignore. I show my brother that I have Keibatsu. He is surprised, pleased, and says it is time for him to go, to take all of the Clan away from this city. I wish him luck. I would go with him, but I have... other things to attend to. He leaves. A woman comes. She says her name but I do not pay attention. We are taken to see our host. We come across dead guards. Enemies are here; they always are, it seems. I enter the Void. Even here the pain reaches me, but it is like a moth beating at the window. Three syllables and it starts with a K. Of course. I am Keibatsu; I am judgement. And for everything that they have done, my enemies shall weep in despair. I go to face my enemies.
There was gas; I was able to fight it off by controlling my breathing, but there was nowhere to go. Then darkness, and then... three. Sever. Stitch. Another, an older girl about Rei's age Malicious, someone called her Malicious and they beat me and they strapped me to a table. But you cut her first, didn't you? You cut your enemy before you were overwhelmed. They cannot take that away...
An older woman. A robot? No, just a Biomade who had forgotten what it is to be Cheldrun. No matter. She injected me with... pain. She said I would hurt forever now. She was right. I retreated into the Void. I tried to shut my body down... so close to death, barely breathing, heartbeat practically gone. For a long time there was nothing, only the Void, and I was almost gone for good. Damn you, who am I?! Then I was back and in agony. The woman was angry, sweating; she had been working very hard to cause me this pain, to draw me out. She succeeded. Now it is time to die. I taunted her, hoping I could make her kill me. Even if I could not, I would not give her the satisfaction of thinking she had broken me. Bitch.
It went on forever. It starts with a K. My name. And then... it stopped. I became aware of a strange sound and the woman told someone to go check on it. She said I was unconscious. Almost, but not quite. Almost dead, but not quite. It did not really matter to me, but then I heard an even stranger sound, a keening and a horrible chittering; screams that were not my own. Such things exist? I saw her, the woman, fighting off something small and green. It seemed vaguely familiar, like I had known what it was once... WHO AM I? Then it was over. The woman had tried to stab the green thing with a syringe and stabbed herself instead. Now she lay there, unmoving. Dead. I envied her.
There was some tugging at my restraints, and then I was being moved. The pain was too much; I passed out. Will I ever wake again? Do I want to?
I awaken. The pain is not so bad. There is a woman hugging me, weeping. Mother? No, not my mother. My mother is mercifully dead these many years now. Funny I remember that when I do not even recall who I am. Three syllables. My name has three syllables. I feel like I should know this woman who is hugging me. Her tears make me feel better; her embrace feels warm and right. But I cannot recall her. Pretty purple feathers.
There is a man too. My... brother? Yes, he is your brother. But who are you? Who am I? Are we even the same person? The sight of him reminds me. I need... something. I reach for it; it is not there. I start gasping and babbling. I do not understand my own words, but my brother does, and the weeping woman. Both of them look horrified by what I am saying. I need my... honor. What is missing is my honor. I notice that my hair has been cut; it used to be quite long, I remember, but now it is raggedly cut to just above my ears. My honor is my life, and now it is gone. It is more important even than my name. I have lost them both, but my honor is more important...
They clean and bandage and clothe me. I do not care. They lead me somewhere; there is a large man and a pretty girl who tries to speak to my mind. I do not care. There is a fat man who welcomes us, and another man. A prill. Mokuzai. Not important. He says he will help us leave the city. I cannot leave, I must find my honor! And my name. I almost have it...
I sleep. Even in sleep I am in pain. Even in my dreams, one thought pervades. I have lost my honor. It is the longest night of my life. Every minute is eternity. I awaken to find a little green squirrel on my chest. She chitters sadly at me and proffers a small pouch; mine, I think, from long ago. But it is too small to contain my honor. I pet the squirrel and she curls up on my chest Pain! and goes to sleep. I too sleep, I think. It is hard to tell the difference. And it does not really matter.
There is a familiar presence, and something brushes my cheek. For just an instant I forget my pain and everything seems right. I open my eyes. The window is open and the curtains are flapping. Beside me lies my honor. Keibatsu. Aimi brought it back to me; she is still playing a game with me. Does she really care? Does it matter? She is free now, free to live a life as she chooses if she will only seize it. And yet she is still playing games with me. Why? No matter. Keibatsu is back. I feel a tear slide down my face and I thank Aimi for giving me back my honor. I will remember this kindness; I owe her.
In the morning I break my fast and garb myself. Outside I meet with the others. They seem surprised and pleased that I am seemingly recovered. It still hurts, but I have discovered that I am not as hurt as I feel; the pain is ever present, and thus, in a strange way, easier to ignore. I show my brother that I have Keibatsu. He is surprised, pleased, and says it is time for him to go, to take all of the Clan away from this city. I wish him luck. I would go with him, but I have... other things to attend to. He leaves. A woman comes. She says her name but I do not pay attention. We are taken to see our host. We come across dead guards. Enemies are here; they always are, it seems. I enter the Void. Even here the pain reaches me, but it is like a moth beating at the window. Three syllables and it starts with a K. Of course. I am Keibatsu; I am judgement. And for everything that they have done, my enemies shall weep in despair. I go to face my enemies.
Dr. Soren's Message
Fractal patterns twist out of the black background, covering the monitor in an intricate web of color. It is a code, operating according to some insane logic. Reducing these images back to their mathematical formula will be nearly impossible - and then to get meaning from numbers and calculations... what could possibly be the purpose of such a complex code?
After precisely 6 hours of aggravating attempts to make headway with the puzzle a telepathic recording is unlocked. It speaks directly into Rei's mind one time only and then it never triggers again. Try as she might Rei cannot seem to find or recover the source of the recording. The fractal patterns continue their hypnotic dance uninterrupted.
crackle... hiss... Unbelievable potential... Nothing like it in the history of genetic sciences...
The voice is unfamiliar. A young cheldrun man, with an edge in his tone like he is intoxicated or perhaps sleep deprived.
Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, I am convinced that this represents a step forward for our experiment an order of magnitude greater than anything attempted in hundreds of years. If you will have the courage to fund this project, you will not be disappointed with the results, which at a conservative estimate will produce dividends of 10 to 15 times your investment within the first generation...
The recording is broken. The voice keeps getting cut off.
...There have been setbacks. Nothing serious... we'll need more money... No! We should have counted on there being obstacles to overcome. This isn't unusual. All advancement comes with a cost... You don't understand how important this is... You can't cancel the project, it's too important... hiss... crackle
The recording is silent for a short while, then it resumes, much clearer this time. The voice speaking is that of Dr. Soren.
What you have been listening to is the voice of your creator Rei. His name is Inase Spark. It is probable that he is the greatest intellect our species has ever produced. Unfortunately, great minds are often unstable as proved to be the case with him. He conceived of a project, the history of which is now rather murky. It was called Project Scion. Partly because of Spark's descent into madness and subsequent disappearance, partly because of a disastrous fire at the original laboratory, and partly because of intentional obfuscation by those who funded and oversaw the project, there isn't much I am able to tell you about what Project Scion was.
This much I know. Inase Spark was convinced he had discovered something that would lead to a completely new era for the Cheldrun. His techniques were eccentric, scientifically dubious, and dangerous. He produced many prototypes which completely failed before you. Yes Rei, you are not the first. Actually you are the last. Project Scion was deemed too expensive to continue funding. Whether Spark intentionally started the fire which destroyed his lab we will probably never know, but the whole thing ended in a horrible mess.
You were but an infant at the time I plucked you from the flames. The lone surviving prototype of Project Scion, like the others you had many defects, but unlike the others you were biologically stable. At the direction of the Biomade Oversight Council, and with funding generously supplied by Goshi Mining Corp, I went into service with Dr. Aliya Pain a talented geneticist to see if we couldn't unlock the secrets in your DNA to what it was Inase Spark had been trying to achieve. We learned a great deal. We were even able to reproduce some of his techniques to develop your siblings, who by and large are much more stable than you. Perhaps this is because we resolved the flaws in his method, or perhaps this is because we do not correctly perceive what he was trying to achieve.
In essence his technique involved a kind of gene therapy in an early embryonic stage using the energy from a substance known as White Rock. We do not really know what this is intended to accomplish, thus we used varying amounts of this energy in your siblings trying to learn the difference. The least energy was employed in Malicious, the most in Nero. Aimi represents a hypothetical perfect balance, but who knows whether we are correct or whether this technique is likely to accomplish what Inase Spark set out to do. There is simply too much conjecture in everything I and Mama Pain have done.
Mama Pain grew increasingly obsessed with discovering what Inase Spark was after as you developed and showed no sign of a stable self. She pored over these files, what remains of Spark's journal, attempting to break the code, but never succeeded. Frankly, I'm not sure there is anything meaningful in here. In his last days Spark kept raving about a "Godstone" and the "Blood of the Scion" showing up in "reddened eyes". The magnificent intellect that had once been his had clearly deteriorated beyond recognition. Even if this is some kind of code as Mama Pain believes, then it may point you to nothing but smoke and fairy dust.
There are two more question I must answer, for my conscience if for no other reason. Why am I telling you this now? and Why did I not tell you this before? The answer to the second question is unfortunately very simple: in the eyes of the Biomade Oversight Council Project Scion never happened. Inase Spark after a brief, but brilliant publishing career simply burned out and retired to a small village somewhere. No one is ever to know that it was attempted. Why I do not know, but it has been made very clear to me that sharing this information with anyone would be forfeiting my life. In fact, I fear by the time you are hearing this that I am already beyond help. That is why I did not tell you before. It is no excuse, but it is the truth.
Why am I telling you now? Because I believe it is necessary for your survival. Recently Nero discovered, by threatening Mama Pain, the existence of Project Scion. He came to a conclusion we had never considered - that locked in your brain, which hadn't learned to filter outside thoughts would be the thoughts of Inase Spark from the brief time of your infancy before the fire. Normally, we do not develop a long term memory until 2-3 years of age and thus I would have said it was impossible for you to remember things that long ago, but as Mama Pain considered it she began to believe Nero might be right. Because of your instable self, it is possible that your brain recorded the adult thoughts of Inase Spark, not as memories, but filed as knowledge in the same pattern that his adult mind projected them. You would not remember it at all, but they would be accessible to a skilled telepath who knew what he was looking for. One like Nero.
I do not know if he intends to kill you, obviously he let you live after he gained the information, thus your life may not be in immediate danger, but I do not doubt that he would dispose of you in a second if you interfered in his plans - and only the First Minds know what those may be. No, I have become convinced that this knowledge is necessary for your survival for other reasons. Like Project Scion, this project has become too expensive to maintain. Goshi withdrew funding last year and the Biomade Oversight Council has given us a deadline to close up shop. Had you stayed home, Mama Pain would have euthanized you by now as she intends to do to Malicious and the others soon. You are the last shred of evidence about a very embarassing episode in the life of the Council. Once they discover that you are loose, as they are bound to do when they dispose of me, then you will be hunted even more fiercely than you are now.
Learn your purpose. That is all we Biomade have is our purpose. We have told you that your purpose is to be an assassin, Mama Pain and I, but I don't know if that is true. Your purpose could be anything. It could be locked in this journal. It could be locked in your mind. Knowing your purpose will give you the strength to persevere against the odds, for the odds are undoubtedly stacked against you, my child.
After precisely 6 hours of aggravating attempts to make headway with the puzzle a telepathic recording is unlocked. It speaks directly into Rei's mind one time only and then it never triggers again. Try as she might Rei cannot seem to find or recover the source of the recording. The fractal patterns continue their hypnotic dance uninterrupted.
crackle... hiss... Unbelievable potential... Nothing like it in the history of genetic sciences...
The voice is unfamiliar. A young cheldrun man, with an edge in his tone like he is intoxicated or perhaps sleep deprived.
Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, I am convinced that this represents a step forward for our experiment an order of magnitude greater than anything attempted in hundreds of years. If you will have the courage to fund this project, you will not be disappointed with the results, which at a conservative estimate will produce dividends of 10 to 15 times your investment within the first generation...
The recording is broken. The voice keeps getting cut off.
...There have been setbacks. Nothing serious... we'll need more money... No! We should have counted on there being obstacles to overcome. This isn't unusual. All advancement comes with a cost... You don't understand how important this is... You can't cancel the project, it's too important... hiss... crackle
The recording is silent for a short while, then it resumes, much clearer this time. The voice speaking is that of Dr. Soren.
What you have been listening to is the voice of your creator Rei. His name is Inase Spark. It is probable that he is the greatest intellect our species has ever produced. Unfortunately, great minds are often unstable as proved to be the case with him. He conceived of a project, the history of which is now rather murky. It was called Project Scion. Partly because of Spark's descent into madness and subsequent disappearance, partly because of a disastrous fire at the original laboratory, and partly because of intentional obfuscation by those who funded and oversaw the project, there isn't much I am able to tell you about what Project Scion was.
This much I know. Inase Spark was convinced he had discovered something that would lead to a completely new era for the Cheldrun. His techniques were eccentric, scientifically dubious, and dangerous. He produced many prototypes which completely failed before you. Yes Rei, you are not the first. Actually you are the last. Project Scion was deemed too expensive to continue funding. Whether Spark intentionally started the fire which destroyed his lab we will probably never know, but the whole thing ended in a horrible mess.
You were but an infant at the time I plucked you from the flames. The lone surviving prototype of Project Scion, like the others you had many defects, but unlike the others you were biologically stable. At the direction of the Biomade Oversight Council, and with funding generously supplied by Goshi Mining Corp, I went into service with Dr. Aliya Pain a talented geneticist to see if we couldn't unlock the secrets in your DNA to what it was Inase Spark had been trying to achieve. We learned a great deal. We were even able to reproduce some of his techniques to develop your siblings, who by and large are much more stable than you. Perhaps this is because we resolved the flaws in his method, or perhaps this is because we do not correctly perceive what he was trying to achieve.
In essence his technique involved a kind of gene therapy in an early embryonic stage using the energy from a substance known as White Rock. We do not really know what this is intended to accomplish, thus we used varying amounts of this energy in your siblings trying to learn the difference. The least energy was employed in Malicious, the most in Nero. Aimi represents a hypothetical perfect balance, but who knows whether we are correct or whether this technique is likely to accomplish what Inase Spark set out to do. There is simply too much conjecture in everything I and Mama Pain have done.
Mama Pain grew increasingly obsessed with discovering what Inase Spark was after as you developed and showed no sign of a stable self. She pored over these files, what remains of Spark's journal, attempting to break the code, but never succeeded. Frankly, I'm not sure there is anything meaningful in here. In his last days Spark kept raving about a "Godstone" and the "Blood of the Scion" showing up in "reddened eyes". The magnificent intellect that had once been his had clearly deteriorated beyond recognition. Even if this is some kind of code as Mama Pain believes, then it may point you to nothing but smoke and fairy dust.
There are two more question I must answer, for my conscience if for no other reason. Why am I telling you this now? and Why did I not tell you this before? The answer to the second question is unfortunately very simple: in the eyes of the Biomade Oversight Council Project Scion never happened. Inase Spark after a brief, but brilliant publishing career simply burned out and retired to a small village somewhere. No one is ever to know that it was attempted. Why I do not know, but it has been made very clear to me that sharing this information with anyone would be forfeiting my life. In fact, I fear by the time you are hearing this that I am already beyond help. That is why I did not tell you before. It is no excuse, but it is the truth.
Why am I telling you now? Because I believe it is necessary for your survival. Recently Nero discovered, by threatening Mama Pain, the existence of Project Scion. He came to a conclusion we had never considered - that locked in your brain, which hadn't learned to filter outside thoughts would be the thoughts of Inase Spark from the brief time of your infancy before the fire. Normally, we do not develop a long term memory until 2-3 years of age and thus I would have said it was impossible for you to remember things that long ago, but as Mama Pain considered it she began to believe Nero might be right. Because of your instable self, it is possible that your brain recorded the adult thoughts of Inase Spark, not as memories, but filed as knowledge in the same pattern that his adult mind projected them. You would not remember it at all, but they would be accessible to a skilled telepath who knew what he was looking for. One like Nero.
I do not know if he intends to kill you, obviously he let you live after he gained the information, thus your life may not be in immediate danger, but I do not doubt that he would dispose of you in a second if you interfered in his plans - and only the First Minds know what those may be. No, I have become convinced that this knowledge is necessary for your survival for other reasons. Like Project Scion, this project has become too expensive to maintain. Goshi withdrew funding last year and the Biomade Oversight Council has given us a deadline to close up shop. Had you stayed home, Mama Pain would have euthanized you by now as she intends to do to Malicious and the others soon. You are the last shred of evidence about a very embarassing episode in the life of the Council. Once they discover that you are loose, as they are bound to do when they dispose of me, then you will be hunted even more fiercely than you are now.
Learn your purpose. That is all we Biomade have is our purpose. We have told you that your purpose is to be an assassin, Mama Pain and I, but I don't know if that is true. Your purpose could be anything. It could be locked in this journal. It could be locked in your mind. Knowing your purpose will give you the strength to persevere against the odds, for the odds are undoubtedly stacked against you, my child.
Mama Pain
Mama Pain is dead.
I don’t know what to think about that.
Part of me doesn’t believe it. How could she be dead? She’s Mama Pain. She IS.
I remember after I’d Awakened, twelve years old, strapped to my bed while Mama Pain ran test after test, probing my mind again and again, making incision after incision to see if I was really aware of my self or just a more stable gestalt mind. Every day for a month, and her never satisfied with the results, always determined to make me be Everyone again, or to make sure I wouldn’t be Everyone again.
I remember pain.
I remember my room. I had to be shielded or else I’d read everyone’s minds every second of every day. I remember session after session with Mama Pain, and every session another corner of my Awareness seared away with psychic coals until aside from my self I could only be the people I was looking at. She beamed with pride, then. For a moment. She was proud of me. I know she was.
I remember Doctor Soren, and his training. Gentle. Kind. I always wanted to work with him. He protected me. He protected all of us.
Except Aimi. She never needed to be protected from Mama Pain. Mama Pain always loved her better than me. She wasn’t defective. She wasn’t broken.
I remember all the years I spent following orders. Being them. Being who they made me. I remember being on the outside, never included by Malicious, Sever, Stitch, Nero, or Aimi. I remember my first mission. I remember my second mission. My third. My fourth. My fifth. Seeing the life fade from Typhon’s eyes.
I remember Moses.
I feared for my life. I feared for my mind. I feared for my soul, if there is such a thing as a soul. I thought I’d lose those things if I came Home. I thought I’d lose my freedom if I came home. That I’d wake up after a session with Mama Pain and discover that I was no longer who I have always been. And yet... and yet... I wanted something more than this, this hollow reunion. I wanted closure. I wanted to know that I wasn’t a mistake. That I wasn’t defective. I wanted to know that Mama Pain loved me.
I wanted to rescue Kiyoshi.
I had to rescue Kiyoshi. I had to rescue him for Una. I had to rescue him for Kiyoshi. I had to rescue him because Moses thought it was the right thing to do. I don’t understand what that means, but it feels... right, to do this ‘right thing to do.’
They’re my family.
I wonder if she had any contingencies in place for this eventuality. I would have, if I were in her place. I can think of a dozen things she could have arranged. Did she?
Who knows? It doesn’t matter. She was never really my mother. Biomade don’t have mothers or fathers. We’re made to be better than that. We have outgrown the old obsolete concepts of filial obligations.
Mama Pain is dead.
I won’t cry.
I won’t cry.
I won’t.
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