Brent Stinebaker
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IV-35 Euthanasia (I)
🕑 Added 2025-10-04 19:34:51 +0000 UTCEuthanasia. Mercy killing. The hardest goodbye.
It's got a lot of names, but functionally, there's gonna be a time on the battlefield where you're going to have to put your knife in your friend's heart.
It could be because you don't want them to be captured. It could be because their injuries are too severe. It could be because a plague is wiping everyone out and your friend just doesn't have it in them to finish things out themselves. It could be any of these reasons. The result is always the same: suffering and death, or softness and death.
Some people like to go on about dignity here. There's not much dignity when people die. We all die pretty similarly. I guess some people are quieter about it than others, but for most, there's usually the screaming for their mother, followed by shitting and pissing themselves. It's practically unavoidable.
What's avoidable, however, is how long they do it and how ugly things get. So, if you don't think you can pull this off, I recommend against being a soldier. Because you're not just going to be responsible for your own life. You're going to be responsible for your friends. And when they can't push themselves over the edge, when the hardest time comes, you better step up.
Because you need to understand that you might very well be that friend. You might very well be lying on the ground with both arms blown off, no Biomancers nearby, enemies closing in, and in the absence of victory, well, you can only take the consolation prize.
You feel uncomfortable reading this? Good. It's not supposed to be comfortable. It's supposed to be a burden. You feel that way, you hold that knife, and you do the last thing you can to make things right.
-Memoirs of a Master-Tier Warmage
IV-35
Euthanasia (I)
"Why?" Shiv asked. "What kind of grudge do you have against Enoch?"
Veronica scoffed, and she began to pace. "It's not a grudge, boy. It's more like a punishment. You know what Enoch did, do you not?" When Shiv didn't respond, she stared at Cripple. "Ah, so there are some secrets you keep for your fellow Ascendants. That's good. It's good to know that you're not a complete traitor."
The automaton Ascendant flinched beneath Veronica's cutting words, and though its avatar took no wounds, it was still affected. Such was Veronica's power.
"Enoch split his soul," Veronica declared. "He split his soul the same way Udraal did, the same way Valor did, the same way most Necrotech Undying do. Except he did it poorly, with an incomplete understanding of the ritual. And so, I have a schizophrenic mind-severed idiot who's desperately trying to find a special avatar to contain his broken soul. And when we need him to maintain and bless the Republic’s fortifications, no less.”
With every syllable Veronica spat, the heat within the room grew, the flames within the hearth crackled and then became a roar, and the fairies scattered. The room grew darker, the light drained away by the Legendary Councilwoman's simmering rage. As she stopped, everything returned to normal. It was like the blackness never was.
"Do you know what being a legendary councilwoman means, dear boy? It means being a babysitter. It means that I am the caretaker to some of the most powerful people on the Integrated Earth, yet they are determined to make these mortal failures, these hubristic mistakes that are unbefitting of Master-Tier Pathbearers, let alone gods. But that is not why I'm going to punish Enoch specifically. No, I'm going to punish Enoch specifically because he is trying to do something beyond foolish. He is trying to eliminate the other ascendants, and he tried to eliminate me."
"He did?" Shiv blinked. "Why?”
"Because he’s afraid I’ll try to control him. And he’s right. The Starhawk isn’t the only rogue variable I need to handle. All the Ascendants have their own branching problems, and I need to contend with them all. You see, Enoch isn't trying to find just another avatar with Rebis. He's trying to find something he can dump a sliver of his soul in to send Rebis free. That way, Rebis can develop on his own. Or rather, Rebis, now consumed by the stable portion of Enoch's soul, can return to being a poor, full person, while the rest of his consciousness shackled by godhood languishes."
A whirlwind of thoughts swirled through Shiv's mind, and the edges of Enoch's plans surfaced. "Wait, so if he's connected to himself, connected to his own godhood, but he won't suffer the degeneration anymore, does that mean he will be able to fully wield his power. Like, will that let him continue growing as a Pathbearer, and maybe even survive the destruction of his divinity, in case anything happens within the Great One?"
"Exactly," Veronica said, clenching a fist. "And that cannot be allowed. The Starhawk has already trespassed the unforgivable boundary, and if Enoch follows, if another Ascendant follows after him, then there will be no more Auroral Council. There will be no unified pantheon, and there will be no Republic."
She sighed. "No, Rebis must die, Enoch must endure his foolishness.
“You need to hold on to control," Shiv finished.
"Exactly," Veronica agreed without any hint of shame. "I'm glad you can see this. Also, you're likely not leaving this prison without dealing with Enoch." A smirk crawled over her features. "Mainly because I assigned Rebis and Enoch to guard the core. And while the other Ascendants are busy, Enoch will likely be desperately trying to finish the binding process."
"So, I was going to be running into him anyway," Shiv said.
"Ah, something like that," Veronica replied, waving her hand. "So then, my conditions. Are they acceptable?" She held out her sync letter, and Shiv glared down at the booklet. Pulsing magic radiated from it. A silver locket kept the leatherbound tome closed.
Shiv’s insides felt like grinding stones. His guts churned, and two paths appeared before him. One, to reject Veronica out of spite. To resist being bound to anyone or anything, and continue cutting his way forward. This was his idealized path. It was his highest fantasy, to be unburdened by any interest beyond his own. But ultimately, it was just that, a fantasy. He was a Legendary Pathbearer, but he was facing enemy Legends as well, with the backing of gods and a Post-Legend that had conquered entire worlds with grand schemes beyond Shiv's current comprehension.
Worse, said world-conquering legend was also...
Shiv refused to think about what Udraal did in detail. He barely knew what his own mother looked like. And now, every time he would think of his parentage, something inside of him would recoil as if scalded by a searing brand. No. Shiv couldn't avoid the groping hands and sinking claws of the deceivers around him. He might have been damned by this fate from the moment he was born, but he would be godsdamned if he wouldn't use everything he had against them, if he would just let people treat him as an instrument.
If they were going to use him, he was going to use them as well. And he was going to learn—socially, magically, physically. He was going to learn everything he could to be the one on top, to be the user. And when he got there, he wouldn't be like any of these bastards. He wouldn't be a monster. He wouldn't be a whore, either. He would be a pillar for this world because the weakness he saw—all these atrocities—-filled him with disgust.
We could be so much more, he thought to himself. We have to be much more.
The challenger has noticed your resolve. The challenger smiles upon your resolve.
He ignored those notifications and accepted the sync-letter. As soon as he did, he saw a softening in Veronica's eyes. She wanted this. A breath of relief escaped her, and she nodded at him. "You've done a wise thing."
"I've done the self-interested thing, you mean," he shot back. He glared at his so-called grandmother and barely held himself back from attacking her again. "Let's not pretend that this is a favor you're doing for me. I'm helping you keep the Ascendants degenerated—making sure they're reliant on you. You just complain about being the master of the daycare, but you know what? I think you're full of shit. I think you kind of like it."
A pause lingered between them, and Veronica just scoffed. But that scoff turned into something of a smirk toward the end. "I suppose that is not untrue. It's bad for me, but I do enjoy the power, and you will too, once you gain a measure of it. Once you find yourself capable of shaping the path of someone else's life."
"Yeah, we'll see," he doubted it. Despite how much he liked to fight, he wasn't that cruel, as much as the orcs would want him to be anyway. "Hey, Veronica, I've got a final question. The Auroral Council. How many of them are there because they're controllable?"
Veronica's smirk became a full-blown grin. "Oh, that's a good question. The answer? Practically everyone, aside from Anthony. The Ascendants, they don't so much care anymore. They want the same thing I do when we're selecting new avatars and council members."
"Controllable people," he said.
"Exactly. However, their notion of controllable is very different from mine. They want someone powerful, in accordance with their skills. Someone that can contain their divine mana, and someone they can use to the utmost efficiency. For Daughter, this is easy. For Enoch, far harder. For me, ultimately, I need people who aren't good at politics. All of them qualify right now, which is why they're eminently replaceable. All of them aside from Anthony. But he hasn't been a problem in a while."
"Anthony," he thought, remembering the old man that stabbed him. "Yeah, the wrinkled guy with a knife who gave my soul a flu. What's his deal?"
Veronica frowned for a moment. "I won't tell you," she said. Shiv’s patience started to crack, and the Councilwoman scoffed. "Because Anthony's dear to me, and I don't want to see him dead at your hands at any point."
"So you do care about people," he growled under his breath.
"Of course, you thought you figured this out earlier. Remember my flaw, boy? I get attached. I'm still human to some extent, and that's an ugly thing when you're powerful," Veronica grimaced. "Anthony De Diego was more of a father to me than my own ever was. And though I have broken him, though he is old and has given up on being anything more than just a pawn instead of a player, I don't want him dead. You understand? If you come for him, I will inflict unspeakable things on you. This is one of my red lines. I make that known. Don't trespass on it."
As she finished those words, he felt as if he was being squeezed in the grip of a giant's hand. His breath hitched for a while as he tried to push back using the Shapeless Tides. It barely bought him any more comfort.
"I will do what makes sense to me," he said, not promising her anything.
They shared a mutual glare, but then Veronica softened first. "Fine, I'll make sure it's not in your interest to hurt him. It shouldn't be hard."
Part of Shiv guessed he'd be offended at her words, but overall, he didn't care. He was numb in so many ways right now from all the revelations she battered him with earlier.
"I said he was old," Shiv said. "Aren't you old? I know Valor is old. What makes Anthony so different?"
For a moment, Veronica didn't say anything. Then her features scrunched up as she thought of a good way to explain. "I'm ageless. Valor is ageless. Most of us are ageless. That's because we look forward to the future. We're always planning. We're always projecting towards tomorrow. Even if you don't suffer from biological decay, you can get old. And that comes with a backward perspective."
"So what, like, he's fixated on things that happened before, rather than things happening right now or tomorrow?"
The Legendary Councilwoman nodded. "And be very wary of that. Once you become old, you can't be young again so easily. The past is stone. It can be eroded through means of memory manipulation and historical revisionism, but it is still stone." She walked to her table and slammed a knuckle into it. The etchings upon its surface flashed once more. "Someone always remembers. And right now, this moment will be remembered. Alright, I'm done with my words. You best be gone and finish this ridiculous little escape you had planned." She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't tell young Lord Arrow about our association."
"Yeah, I'm going to do that," Shiv sneered. "I'm hiding enough shit from him as it is. If we're going to be working together—"
"We're not working together," Veronica cut him off. "We're going to try to use each other. You're young enough and foolish enough to think that you might be able to get an edge on me. And I'm experienced enough to know that I will slit your throat like a lamb when you try. And you will try, again and again and again, until you are good enough that I can't treat you like a lamb anymore. And then everything changes, and we negotiate a new arrangement or one of us dominates the other.”
"Speaking from experience now, are we?" Shiv asked.
"Yes. Learned from Anthony. He wasn't always old." Veronica's expression turned wistful now. "Oh, and when you run into Enoch, understand that he can use the very architecture against you. He builds incredible structures. His mastery of spaces and geometries is bordering on the absurd, Non-Euclidean." When she saw Shiv's confusion, she waved him off. "Ask your friend about what Non-Euclidean means. He will understand better than you do. You don't have Dimensionality. Rather sad, because it's such an important and useful skill. I recommend you develop it as soon as possible. Despite that, he is especially vulnerable. He, too, is old."
"So how does that help me?" Shiv asked.
"Oh, it helps you because you're going to ask him a very simple question, and that usually puts him in a bit of a fugue state." Veronica turned. "When you encounter Enoch and his newest avatar, simply ask him about Aina Huna and how he lost it to the Stormlords of the Pacific. Do it again and again. It will break him. It's pathetic, but also slightly amusing. So much power, yet so many poor decisions. An entire island chain given to a race that barely has any sapience.”
She shook her head. "Godhood. What a poisonous pill of power."
When she said nothing more, he felt an insatiable urge to flee, to leave the room. He realized she had been suppressing the dread aura emanating from this chamber all that time, and now it was back in full force. She was sending him away. "You know something, Veronica? If I ever turn out like you, I'm going to let my vitality spill out of my body, and I'm going to let it keep flowing until there's nothing left of me. I might be Deathless now, but being dead might be better than whatever you've turned out to be. And whatever the fuck Udraal is.”
She craned her neck slightly and rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, spit your pointless youthful rage. It will go away in time. You’ll learn to deal with everything else as well. It’s just the way life is. Now. We’re done here. Begone. And be quick with your escape.”
With that, they were finished. Their relationship had been ugly since the beginning, but now it was closer and more sour than ever. Shiv clenched the sync letter tightly and wondered just how big a mistake he had made.
He walked out of the room, and something clawed up. It started in his stomach, and spikes of pain began to move towards his throat. Shiv doubled his pace, fleeing out from the cracked stone doors and turning along the hall. As soon as he got clear, he nearly doubled over. Every bit of his self-control had been devoted to stopping himself from throwing up earlier, from the disgust that came with knowing about Udraal, about his mother, about so many truths.
"Fuck," Shiv almost whimpered. He used the wall to keep himself standing. As he tried to force another step, he found his leg shaking. Tumbling sprays of bile seared the edges of his throat. Everything inside him begged for him to let it all out, to express his nausea in some way. But for whatever reason, he couldn't. He couldn't just puke. He couldn't admit weakness so close to Veronica.
The doors were still open. She must have been listening. She must still be listening. She must be waiting.
Then there was a soft hand landing on his back. He turned and saw Cripple's avatar looming over him. The ascendant's optics flickered, and though the automaton's features were nothing like a human's, Shiv could practically taste the sympathy radiating off of it.
"I didn't know," Cripple said. "I am sorry. To learn of your parentage in such a way, to discover the terrible truths that you were faced with. I didn't know. I didn't intend for this."
He stepped away from its touch. He didn't need it. He didn't need its comfort. Cripple was a broken thing. He couldn't help Shiv any more than he could help himself.
"It's fine," Shiv said, forcing the bile back down. It would sink into his stomach. It would burn there. It would be a permanent mark of disgust. But he would deal with it. He would live with it. He would accept it. What more was another scar? "It's fine. I got other things to deal with. I'm going to... I'm going to meet up with Adam."
"What will you tell them?" Cripple asked.
"I'm going to tell them that we have a way in. That I know what to expect."
"And nothing about Veronica?" Cripple asked.
"I don’t know?" Shiv growled roughly. "We're dealing with enough shit already. I don't need him troubled by this right now."
"And you?" Cripple continued to press. "Aren't you troubled?"
"No. I'm really, really pissed off and trying not to throw up because fucking—Udraal—FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Shiv slammed a fist into the wall and blew a chunk open in the architecture. As the dust cleared, he saw the Orichalcum hull past the soft and supple wood. “Fuck,” Shiv whispered. He didn’t know if he was going to go Berserk or have a psychological breakdown. He decided to do neither. He decided to keep putting one foot in front of the other. “I'm going to leave now. You still want to help? You be there. You send your avatar. Right now, I need to... I need to..."
"I understand," Cripple said. "Go. There is nothing stopping you. I will deploy another of mine. I will find you using the reactor core Adam has." But as the words finished, they both lingered for a while, and Shiv let out a hiss. He turned away. "Shiv... I..." Cripple ended those two words before the Deathless sent himself back towards his temporal anchor.
In the next moment, he snapped into place within the Forest of Alloy.
Before Shiv could emerge from the Category One Dimension, a low, rumbling laugh filled his mind. The Challenger’s mirth faded, and Shiv felt himself on the verge of a violence—with nothing to vent his violence on.
“They’re pretty pathetic, aren’t they, bruiser?”
The Deathless was in no mood to speak with the Challenger. He hadn’t processed the madness that was Udraal being his “mother” and the Ascendants…
“Not here to mock you. I’m just here to tell you that I chose right with you.”
Shiv stopped. “What?”
“You’re a good Insul. A proper Pathbearer. And maybe someday you’ll make a proper god. Not like them. They’ll never be proper anything. Because they’re not even themselves anymore. You understand why I hate them now, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Shiv laughed scornfully. “I don’t see the point of having all that power if I’m not the one wielding it. And my mom… The fuck was she thinking?”
“Probably that she was special. That her arrangement would see her finally be made truly spectacular. That Udraal couldn’t steal her body or wouldn’t just use her as a puppet. No. She was too strong. Or too important. And when Udraal decided to hollow her soul out, it was just too late. Foolish. Desperate. Delusion. Want. But ultimately, the mistake she made mirrors that of the Ascendants.”
The Deathless gritted his teeth, and for once found himself entirely in accord with the orc god. “Yeah. Power is earned.”
“Or taken. Power given or borrowed from another is never yours. Remember that. And remember to own everything you do. No excuses, bruiser. I am a monster. I am the Challenger. I was not made this way. I choose this. Every day. I choose this. Just like you choose to be who you are. You can change. But make it your own choice. That, more than anything, is yours. It doesn’t matter who you were spawned from or why. The future matters. The future is your. Paint your character there.”
Philosophy 27 > 28
“Really? You reached across the veil to give me a pep-talk?” Shiv said. His sarcasm was lacking, and his suspicion was high.
“Yes,” the Challenger said without a hint of mockery.
Shiv nearly choked. “No shit?”
“Shiv. Bruiser. I like hurting people. I like screams and dominance. But I am not beyond other things. Never mistake me for an Ascendant. I am a whole person. I have many flavors. And right now, you need someone to tell you that you are more than who birthed you.”
“Huh,” Shiv muttered. “I… Thanks, Challenger.”
“Thank me by following your Path to the conclusion. We have a rendezvous in your future, don’t we? You can’t stop here if that’s the case.”
And wasn’t that the truth. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m still coming for you, Challenger. But… You know. Thanks.”
“Go. Shed some blood. Carve some fear into those false gods. Let my orcs have some fun. Amuse me. That’s all I ask.”
As the Challenger’s presence faded from Shiv’s mind, he wasted no more time. The Deathless moved, bursting free from his cape, prepared to face anything on the other end. As soon as he came out, however, he found himself in the new prison. The valley here, though, looked different. Massive furrows lined the walls. Kilometers of Orichalcum were missing, leaving huge gaps that exposed the mithral supports behind. As he turned, he found several orcs cheering his arrival.
He found the orcs, Gone, Candles, Five, Adam, and Can Hu, standing at the ready. Their weapons were low, but their eyes were pointed high.
Looming over them, dangling from the ceiling, was the most peculiarly dressed hydra Shiv had ever seen. The twelve-headed beast was large, though each of its heads was only around twenty meters long. A descending pillar hung down from the ceiling, growing longer with every passing second, like an inverted pedestal that the hydra sat upon.
Its body was also decorated in strange—Shiv's mind spun as he realized those weren't decorations. Those were path-bearers. Those were people. Wardens kicked and wailed, fused into the pirate Hydra's scales. And where the wardens weren't, the spaces were occupied by hexagonal plates of Orichalcum as well. Limbs and screaming heads stuck out from the Hydra's body where the Orichalcum grids weren't.
A large cape of flowing silk mixed with luxurious carpets and curtains swayed around the hydra's massive back, flowing as if some kind of stylish half-cape. But it was the Hydra's many heads that caught Shiv's true attention, for it had fashioned crowns for itself—crowns shaped from gold, silver, and even copper.
The hydra had taste. Expensive taste.
"Oh, who is this?" the Hydra, the one Cripple called Solzimort earlier, called out to Shiv. Every single one of its heads spoke in tandem, as if there was no separation between them. "Is this one of your friends?"
Adam turned, noticing Shiv for the first time. He lingered on Shiv's face for a second, and his eyes filled with concern. Shiv gave him a nod, trying to signal that he was fine, but Adam Arrow's Awareness was peerless. Even if his Psychology skill wasn't that high, he could read Shiv's facial muscles. He could tell how tense Shiv was.
The Deathless really didn't want to deal with this right now. "Later," Shiv whispered, and that made Adam turn away. Adam Arrow was reliable, but he wasn't going to let this go. They were going to face it at some point, but they weren't going to do it right now. Right now, they had a Hydra to recruit.
"Solzimort," Shiv said. "Hi. I'm Shiv. I'm..."
And just then, the notification appeared. The cursed notification that made him the enemy of practically everyone in Integrated Earth. The hydra noticed then, and Shiv prepared himself for a fight.
The hydra's many mouths opened wide, and its heads reared back. Shiv clenched his fist, Adam shaped an arrow. Gone prepared to move.
And then, the hydra—Solzimort—let out a loud sigh. "Oh, oh, you're the Deathless. I'm so sorry." Of all the things the Hydra could have said, this wasn't one that Shiv anticipated. "You must have had a very hard life. Now the system's trying to get everyone to hurt you. The system is so mean. That's okay, it's mean to us too. That's why we're in this prison, even though we don't deserve it."
Shiv stared at a few of the struggling wardens, who shrieked with terror. "Please, please. Oh, God, I can feel it. I can feel it moving underneath my body. My legs are gone, but I can feel it. It's attached to my legs. Ah, ah, ah." The warden's wailing cry pierced through the air and briefly silenced Solzimort's words.
"Uh-huh," Shiv said, dryly. "Yeah, I'm sure you're perfectly moral."
Solzimort turned one of its massive heads to stare at the struggling warden. As it drew close, the warden began to sob. Shiv used his Farsight and saw the warden was a rather young-looking man. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, and he flinched away from the hydra's breath. He should have expected the hydra to bite down on the warden, to put an end to his screaming. But once more, Solzimort surprised him. "There, there, little warden, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm actually trying to preserve all of you. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe in my scales.”
"Preserve?" Adam's voice jumped an octave. His eyes darted between all the wardens trapped within Solzimort's body. "Solzimort, you do understand that people need to breathe."
"Oh, no, they need oxygen inside their brains, and I'm feeding them oxygen. They're just suffocating for no reason because their body hasn't adapted yet." The hydra's many heads laughed as one. "Anyhow, that's why they're fused inside of me. I'm keeping them safe from harm. I've wrapped my skin in Orichalcum, and I've also increased my density by ten times. Now, ultimately, no one can hurt me."
Solzimort laughed again, and this time, all the wardens began laughing with him, clearly compelled to by the hydra’s power.
He blinked and felt a strange pulse of Dynamancy radiating out from Solzimort. Then he saw translucent trails of mana connecting each of the Hydra's crowns. It had some kind of strange Psychomancy skill. More, the aura it radiated into the air was infused with Magical Resistance as well.
Just what the hell am I looking at here? Shiv thought to himself.
"Actually, I think you should all get inside me too," Solzimort offered. "I'm gonna try to get out of this prison, and all of you are really, really small. That's not good. It's better to be big inside of this prison. That's why I got a bigger cage compared to most people. Still not big for me, but it's more space. And when they stopped making me super sleepy, I immediately started swimming through the walls and getting away."
"That's actually what we wanted to talk with you about," Adam said. Solzimort's heads snapped to attention. In an instant, they all curved over the group. Once more, Shiv had to hold himself back from attacking. It wasn't his fault that the hydra's necks looked like snakes rearing back to strike.
"Oh, you're going to help us escape?" Solzimort's heads crashed together, and the many crowns it had made a clamoring noise that sounded like a legion's worth of armored path bearers tumbling down a flight of stairs. "That's great. How are we going to do this, though?"
"It might be a little bit more complicated than you think, Solzimort," Adam said. "This place isn't just made out of cages. There are other defenses keeping this place boxed in as well. There's a massive sphere around this entire place. It's a time loop. If you hit it, it will revert you back in time."
"Oh yeah, the golden thing." Solzimort's many heads lowered, and a whimpering noise came from the Legendary Hydra. "I didn't like that. I was sent back to my cage, but because no one made me sleepy anymore, I just got out again. I was wondering how to get through that thing."
"Well, the way we get through is by shutting down the mana core," Adam elaborated.
"Mana core?" Solzimort said, all its heads tilting at the same time. "This place has a mana core?"
"I see this hydra is not legendarily intelligent, or particularly informed," Kura commented off by the side.
"No, but it is Legendary good at absorbing matter into its body; and we’re matter," Whisper responded so quickly that Kura did a double-take.
Nearby, Candles began to shiver. The flames around his body flickered and curved towards Solzimort. To Shiv's surprise, Whisper leaned over to hiss at the burning Pathbearer. "Control yourself, my sweet lunatic. If you try to burn the Hydra, we won't be able to enact greater acts of mayhem."
"But there's so much hydra, and it can burn for so long. They heal…” Candles shuddered like a drug-sniffer after a hit.
"We want to know what else burned for a long time. An Ascendant, countless Heroic-Tier wardens. Sweeter things taste sweeter if you starve yourself for a while."
The blazing Pathbearer twitched.
"Hey," Shiv whispered at the orc. Whisper frowned. "Yeah, that feeling you have right now? That’s what it feels like to be me dealing with you orcs.”
Whisper's frown grew even deeper. “We’re not that bad.”
“The fuck you aren’t. You’re worse. You know better and do it anyway.”
Psycho-Cartography: And here we have the separation between psychopath and sociopath, the former being an orc, the latter being Candles.
"So if we turn off this mana core, we can get all the way through, huh?" Solzimort asked. It sounded a bit simple, but something about the hydra didn't sit right with Shiv.
"Yes," Adam said. "But we're going to need your help to reach the mana core. Now, you want everyone to get free, right? You want to get out of this prison? Well, there's no way out until we get close, and if we want to get close, there are a bunch of special cages there. Cages you might be able to swim through."
Solzimort took a moment to think about what the Gate Lord was saying, and then it started nodding vigorously. "I got it! So you want me to fuse you into my body?"
"No, no," Adam interrupted, then caught himself before he betrayed just how worried that made him. "I don't need you to fuse with us. I just... I need you to carry us across through the cubes surrounding the mana core.”
"But fusing you into me is the simplest way to do things."
"Solzimort," Adam said gently. "Maybe I don't want to be fused. Have you considered that?"
"But even if you don't want to, it's not very safe." The Gate Lord's agitation grew with every bit of dialogue exchanged.
Shiv walked beside him and wrapped a hand around his shoulder. "Maybe let me take over. I think I might be better at this."
The Gate Lord pouted. "Yes, you would know how to persuade another insane monster, wouldn't you?"
Shiv gritted his teeth and patted Adam on the shoulder twice more. "Haha, eat shit."
The Gate Lord restrained a snort.
"Solzimort," Shiv said stepping past Adam, "I know that you mean to be nice and protective. From how you see things, you're trying to protect everyone, right? Everyone smaller than you." He spoke following the instincts provided to him by Psycho-Cartography.
Solzimort nodded vigorously again. "Yeah, because sometimes the small people are also small brains, and so you can't really trust them to protect themselves."
"Not like we can trust you, right?" Shiv said, agreeing with Solzimort solely to lead the Hydra on. The twelve heads of the legendary pure Hydra all grinned.
"Right! Why, you're a lot brighter than your friend is there. Probably because you're bigger too."
"Oh my felling gods," Adam practically snarled. He turned his eyes to the ground and placed his hands on his hips, the frustration radiating from him palpable. Shiv grinned openly. Sometimes revenge came fast.
"Yeah, probably. Anyway, Solzimort, I'm not disagreeing with you, but we need to be apart from you to turn off the mana core. You know why?"
Solzimort paused. "No, not really. Why? Is it because you have a special skill?"
"Exactly! I have a special skill. And that special skill doesn't work if we're fused. It's not that we don't want to be fused with you, it's just that it's dangerous for you, and you won't be able to protect us if you're affected by one of our skills too."
"Oh," Solzimort said. The hydra practically sounded depressed with that revelation. "I got it. So I can only carry you, and I have to let you go for you to make the core go to sleep?"
"Yeah," Shiv said. "That about sums it up. Listen, Solzimort, we'd be really, really thankful if you could do this for us. This way, we can all escape as well. Sometimes we have to do things we don't like to protect the little people." Shiv reached out and patted Adam on the back of the head.
The Gate Lord shrugged him off and kicked him in the shin. "Get away from me, you bastard."
"Yeah," Solzimort said, and Shiv felt a sympathetic bond form between them. Going from fighting for his social sanity against Veronica to talking with a particularly simple Hydra was a relaxing whiplash. "Okay, so I think I can fit some of you between my teeth."
"Between his teeth, he says," Kura's voice grew even drier.
"I'm not sure about the inside of his mouth thing, Solzimort," Adam said.
"Well don't worry." Shiv looked around, taking in his little army. "You guys don't need to be inside his mouth. I'll go inside his mouth. The rest of you can hide in my cape."
"Far more preferable," Five commented.
"Yat!" Solzimort cheered, but then all of its heads, all of the Hydra's heads, turned on each other. "But which one of us will get to hold them?”
“Me!” All the hydra’s heads declared at the same time. A pause followed. Then they all started growling at each other. “It’s gotta be my mouth!”
Psycho-Cartography: Holy shit are you fucking kidding me right now? Shiv, whatever you say, don't say: Doesn't matter. This clearly matters a lot to this thing."
The Deathless felt the first tickles of annoyance dance upon his nerves, but he pushed it aside. He covered his eyes as if he was humoring a child and pointed randomly at one of the heads. "There. That one."
"Why that one?" Solzimort said, sounding confused.
"Because I chose it at random. It wouldn't be fair to the other heads if I picked a favorite, would it? It would hurt your feelings."
The hydra shuffled uncomfortably. "Yeah, sorry. Sorry, little guy.”
Silver Tongue 47 > 49
“That's fine. Anyway, that head. I’ll ride there. Great, good talk. Everyone in my cape. Five, Can Hu! Stick around for a while. I got something to say." The Penitent and the raven lingered, and Adam stayed as well.
When Shiv shot his friend a look, Adam just shrugged. "I'm not going in without my Penitent."
"Right," Shiv said. When he turned around, he found most of Solzimort's heads leering close by. "Solzimort," Shiv muttered, "can you give us some space?"
"Okay." Solzimort pulled its twelve heads back by a meter, still close enough to hear everything Shiv was about to say.
Psycho-Cartography: Just treat the hydra like patience training. Or use it to focus your anger and fuel some of your skills.
Uh huh, Shiv replied to his skill internally. I'll be sure to lie to myself. "Okay, Five, Can Hu—something you two need to know. Enoch is integrating himself into Rebis. But he's more than just an avatar. He's like a separate body the Ascended can use. He’s splitting part of his soul into Rebis, and I need you to jack into his processors or whatever when the battle starts if you can."
Can Hu’s glowing optics narrowed, while Five simply sighed. However, it wasn't a sigh of surprise, but one of lament.
"You knew this was gonna happen?" Shiv asked the wolf-man.
"I suspected something like it might. Still, it is not ideal. Poor Rebis."
"I don't know if I'd call Rebis poor considering the shit his two halves got up to before they got fused together," Shiv said, "but it seems wrong anyway."
"I would insist on Rebis being pitiable," Five said, taking a stand for his friend. "Whoever Rebis was, well, were, he isn't anymore. They're just torturing a child by this point."
Shiv considered the wolf-man's argument and struggled with the discomfort that followed. It was easier to blunt the ugliness by reminding himself about what the two Pathbearers who became Rebis did beforehand. Telling yourself that someone deserved their fate was a way of coping with how ugly their fate often was. And that might be part of the problem too.
Shiv was coping with too much these days.
"Well, I'm gonna need you two to try to hijack his mind as much if you can. Rebis is going to be guarding the mana core, so get ready for a fight."
"It's not just going to be Rebis, though, is it?" Adam said, sounding slightly worried. "It's going to be an Ascendant as well."
"Yeah, Enoch. But I have something against him. I know a psychological weakness the Ascendant has. Or some shit like that.”
Adam blinked. "How did you figure that out?"
"Veronica. She told me a few things?”
"Yes, and how did that meeting go?" Shiv didn't respond immediately, and Adam read something behind his friend's eyes. "Shiv, are you alright?"
The Deathless just grunted. He shook his head. "No. Not even a little. But we don't deal with that shit right now. I'll be fine, at least until we get out of this place. After that, there's quite a bit of stuff I need to tell you. You're not going to like a lot of it."
"I already don't." The Gate Lord bit his lip. "Listen, if you need a moment..."
"We don't have a moment, Adam," Shiv replied. "We need to move, and we need to move right now. I don't want to stay in this place any longer than I have to. Cripple will be sending an avatar to us soon, and Veronica... first off, fuck Veronica, but also, she's going to be helping us. She wants to counter Udraal. She also wants to use Udraal to protect me somehow, like I'm some kind of investment or pawn she desperately doesn't want to lose."
Adam tried to digest Shiv's analogy. "Well, if you're a pawn she doesn't want to lose, then you're not a pawn, Shiv.”
"Well, whatever I am, we're in bed between two devils. We're trying to make them fuck each other more than they fuck us.”
"Is this really wise?" the Gate Lord muttered.
"Hell no. Not even a little. But it's what we got." Shiv did his best not to think about his parentage, about Udraal. That ball of disgust was still there, boiling in the pit of his stomach.
Adam gripped Shiv by his upper shoulder. "Listen, if you need to talk about this right now, I will listen. I'm here for you." And just then, the disgust abated by a bit.
"Thanks, Adam. But I think we should do this if we manage to survive whatever the hell comes next." Shiv just didn't want to hold it in anymore. "Look, my mom... what she did, it wasn't really her."
"What do you mean?" Adam said, leaning back as he saw the sheer intensity on Shiv’s face.
And just like that, the words started tumbling out from Shiv’s mouth in a messy flood. "I mean... fuck, Adam. Veronica had told me about what Udraal was trying to do, what the Ascendants were trying to do, what all of them were trying to do. But I don't have time to explain how messed up everything is. My mom wasn't my mom by the time—You and your sister, you were... there were bigger plans for you and like—But Udraals... he hollowed out my mom's soul."
"I—gods," the Gate Lord's expression turned horrified. "Shiv, I'm sorry."
"I'm not done," Shiv continued. "He hollowed her out, and then he wore her like a body. And this was before I was conceived. Before, you know..." As the seconds crawled on, Adam's look of confusion turned to one of utter horror.
"Oh...." Adam whispered.
"Yeah," the Deathless breathed. "I, uh, I might, uh. Have two dads. Technically.” The joke didn’t work. Shiv grimaced as he tried not to have a complete meltdown.
An awkward moment passed between them. Five shuddered slightly and fled from the scene, diving into Shiv's cape. A long sigh came from Can Hu. "I'm sorry, Pathbearer Shiv. Sometimes the world seeks to scar us before we even truly exist. We are not only the fruits of love, but the fruits of intention, the fruits of illness, the fruits of violence, the fruits of consequence."
Adam didn't say anything. Instead, he walked over and embraced Shiv tightly. The Deathless let out a breath. The disgust was still deep inside of him, it felt like it stained his very bones, like he didn't really belong to himself anymore. But it was easier to face now. It felt a little better spitting it out. Just then, something bumped into his back, and Shiv found one of Solzimort's heads pressed up against him.
"Are we all hugging now?" Solzimort asked. Shiv was speechless, but then he found himself too tired to be annoyed.
"Some of us are," Shiv said.
"Can I join in?" Solzimort whispered, ignoring how he was already a part of this impromptu group hug.
"Yeah, sure," Shiv responded dryly. "The more, the merrier."
After dealing with his spiraling psyche, Adam gave a report. "I have eyes on Cripple again. He's moving inside a special cube, coming right at us." Shiv saw Cripple's reactor glowing on Adam's hip. The Gate Lord fired his shot, and a few moments later, Cripple’s avatar appeared through the rift.
But it didn't come alone.
Cripple’s current avatar marched out, still missing its left arm, still eroded by entropy damage, but standing upon his right shoulder was a small, suitcase-sized automaton. It had two antennae sticking out the top, and its body was practically a head as well. Its body also had a glass screen, and projected upon it was a face locked in a perpetual frown.
"Really?" the little automaton snarled. "I'm going with these clowns? Seriously, boss man?"
"These are the conditions of your release," Cripple's words radiated from his present avatar, and Shiv did a double-take.
"Wait, he's a prisoner?"
Cripple's avatar turned a glare upon Shiv. "I'm not going to spend an actual avatar for this matter. This is more of a reserve. More suitable for our needs.”
"All right," Shiv considered that for a moment and then accepted it. "Yeah, you know what? That's fine. That makes sense."
"I'm glad you could accept my pragmatism," Cripple replied.
"Do I get any say in this?" the small, suitcase-sized automaton complained. "That one's the Deathless. I think that one over there is glaring at me, pulling out my systems using... what is that, a Binaric Sovereign Skill? God, shit. I don't want to be a brain slave. Don't! Stop it. Stop it."
"Radio," Cripple said. The Ascendant's voice fell heavy upon the small automaton. "I will brook no defiance on this matter. The terms of your release are as follows."
"You know, the terms of my extended death, more like," Radio muttered. "Fine." It hopped off the larger automaton and skipped over to Shiv. It was barely up to his knees and held up a hand that was barely more than a few wires. Shiv winced as he wondered how fragile this avatar was. "Well, I guess we're gonna be going together. You're the Deathless that everyone's trying to kill, and I'm Radio. Former Chief Secretary to City-Lord Hanson of District Columbianus."
"Sounds like you had a pretty important position. How'd you end up here?”
"Yeah, so maybe I might have stolen someone's identity to get my position," Radio began. "And then maybe I might have shifted a good amount of mithril out of my accounts to do a couple of favors for my friends."
"You flatter yourself if you think any of them consider you anything more than a piece on the board," Cripple declared scornfully.
"Come on, boss man. You already got me under your boot. You don't need to spit on me as well."
The moment Shiv realized he was dealing with someone corrupt rather than outright vile, he let out a breath of relief. "Hey, Radio," Shiv asked. "What's your Toughness? What's your Magical Resistance?"
Radio paused. "Um, Adept?"
"For which one?" Shiv asked, feeling his disappointment start to grow.
"Uh, yeah."
He scowled at Radio first and then turned his scowl on Cripple. "Really?"
"I promised you an avatar. I did not have much time to prepare one. Its safety is now your concern. Should you let it be destroyed, the onus is on you, not me. Besides, it is meant to be a conduit between us, not an enduring combatant."
"But what happens to communicators?" Radio said, turning to complain at the Ascendant. "They die, boss man."
"If you die before you serve your purpose, then I will mourn you appropriately."
"So, not at all," Shiv and Radio said at the same time. They looked at each other, and a low whine came from Cripple.
“Two seconds,” Cripple muttered.
"One of the most noble ascendants in the Republic, everybody," Radio sighed. "Fine. Hey, Deathless guy, how high is your Toughness?"
"Heroic," he said flatly.
"How high is your Magical Resistance?"
"Legendary."
"Alright, alright, so maybe not so bad for me. You know what, things might be looking up for old Radio. Tell you what, I do have a few pretty good skills. I'm a real people person, as they say. If you need anyone to do the talking—”
“I'll still do the talking," Shiv cut the press-ganged avatar off. "I want to make one thing clear. I feel a bit bad for you, but I don't much trust you either. I'm not going to abuse you or nothing if you don't give me a reason to. Do I find you talking to someone behind my back? Well, knowing your history, I'm going to come up with a few assumptions. So don't give me a reason to pull your arms off."
Radio looked at its twig-sized arms and vigorously nodded at Shiv. "All right, very clear guidelines, boss man. I'll be sure to not give you any reasons. Yes, sir."
Shiv and Adam shared a look. The Deathless extended his Psychomancy over to his friend. “Yeah, so we're probably going to want to keep an eye on this one. I'm getting a slimy taste from it. Slimier than Siggy by a godsdamned mile.”
“I'd be inclined to agree,” Adam said. “Well, Five is a member of Aviary, isn't he? Why aren't you so worried about him?”
“Because we already know he's probably going to betray us the very moment he gets a chance. This one, the waters are murky about who it might betray us to, or what might trigger that.”
The Gate Lord grunted. “We have quite the little ensemble with us, don't we?”
“Yeah, felling hells. I miss Valor. Shit, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I might even miss your dad.”
A pang of exhaustion came from Adam. I do too. Let's get this done and try to find them wherever they are. I'm tired of this place. I'm tired of being here.
"All right, Radio," Shiv said. "Get in the cape."
"The what?" Radio leaned past Shiv and stared at his billowing cape. "Ugh, that looks pretty fancy. Dimensional, is it? What do you got in there? Special pocket? Those are pretty rare, especially stable ones." Radio made it two steps before it halted and spun around. "Hey, uh, Cripple."
"Not boss man anymore?" Cripple asked, sounding more than a little indifferent.
"Yeah, I just wanted to say that I always found you a self-righteous prick who couldn't tell the difference between its charging port and its waste disposal. Since you're selling me off to a new owner and using me as a receiver, I just want you to know that I'm not looking forward to your heavy soul ramming itself into my red little systems so you can talk to the free-range male here."
Shiv squinted at Radio. "What the hell do you mean, 'free-range male'?"
"I mean, do you see the size of you? You gotta be a free-range male. What did they let you graze on?"
"Mouthy automatons, believe it or not," Shiv grunted. "Now get in the cape before I make that statement real."
"Alright, new boss man!" Radio bounced off behind Shiv and, with a less-than-impressive leap, dove into the billowing sheen of dimensionality. A second later, it cried out in alarm. "Boss man, is there something you forgot to mention? Like, why the hell is this cape filled with orcs?"
"What's this?" Mortar bellowed aloud. "Insul, are you giving us a new friend?"
"Don't break him," Shiv called aloud. "You can do anything else, just don't break him."
"Oh, but we won't break him," Mortar laughed aloud. "He looks so adorable. Come here, little one, there's a spot for you right on my left shoulder."
"Ah, shit! Cripple! Cripple, boss man, I'm sorry! I hate it here! Take me back, take me back!"
Comments
SMAUG199842!
I love male pregnancy, he's hilarious
Troy
The orcs have 100% used their Psychology skills on me. I'm cooked. I like 'em all (except 812 and male pregnancy, fuck those two).
Tom C
Columbianus lol. Really is the arse-end of nowhere TFTC!
Dar-Angol
👍👍😘
James Faulkner
Holy fucking monster of a chapter. Tftc!!
Zenkai543
It says a lot that the God of breaking people physically, mentally, and spiritually is somehow more moral than almost everyone else in the power bracket.
Crombell
The Challenger is many things. Dishonest with itself or others is, for better or for worse, not one of them.
Broseph
This was disgustingly optimistic, not disgustingly portrayed. But damn, fucking gross.
Miacron
Aah the Challenger; the god of Dominance over all things; ultraviolence and War. And in this conflict maybe the one singular being with an edge of empathy. In a sense, poetic.
Brent Stinebaker
More content than expected. Final portion arriving for volume arriving tomorrow.
