Taking a day

Just the one. Page'll be up on th 17th. Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 3743

A meal, was it? That was a surprising offer. In all her visits to this place until now, she’d never been given food. In fact, with so many reapers and Methusel around, she’d been under the impression that food was not even a subject that crossed their minds.

Which had made her pity the handful of servants who had to live here.

Granted, none of her previous visits had been for that long. She’d only been allowed to stay for a few hours at a time, if even that.

A look of amusement seemed to cross Gardorox’s fishy face. ‘You look surprised. You thought us incapable of providing sustenance, didn’t you?’

She supposed she could admit that. “Er, yes...”

‘Heh. Then you are in for a treat. As is your reaper.’

Gema was confused. “What do you mean?”

‘I shall let that be a surprise.’ Gardorox’s tail fin waved broadly to the side. ‘Please escort young Gema to her quarters. Dinner will be prepared shortly.’

And just like that, the reapers all began to disperse, not even bothering to inform each other that they were leaving. They simply flew off at a leisurely pace, going up into the ceiling or through the walls or even into the polished floor. Only a couple of them remained behind to strike up a conversation with each other.

Another Methusel appeared on her right--one she hadn’t even noticed a moment ago--and motioned for her to follow.

She did so.

As they walked, she decided to try consulting Ozolos one more time, despite knowing that it was most likely pointless. ‘Do you have any idea what they were talking about back there?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ said the reaper privately.

Which was more of an answer than she’d expected, at least. But she still kept pressing. ‘And? Spill the beans, Ozzie. C’mon.’

‘They are trying to seduce me.’

She couldn’t help blinking. ‘Uh... say what?’

‘This is how it starts. Appeals to fleshly indulgences. Reminders of mortal pleasures. Things thought long lost to us. ‘Tis a potent strategy.’

‘Okay, yeah, I get that much. I think. But... “Seduce,” though? Is that really the right word for it? I mean...’

‘It is. Once seduced, control soon follows. Manipulation. Even slavery. Of the mind. And soul, too, no doubt.’

‘Whoa. Um. Alright. Don’t like the sound of that.’

‘Good. Remember your training. Hold truth. And see this place for what it really is.’

Page 3742

Gema hesitated at that. “Ah--fully integrated? Um. How long do you suppose that might be?”

‘As long as is required.’

Oh no. These were reapers. And some of the oldest ones on the entire planet, most likely. And she herself was technically immortal, too. So she was suddenly getting the distinct impression that this guy could be talking about decades here--or even centuries, for that matter.

She couldn’t just let that go by without addressing it. “I cannot stay indefinitely,” she said, stiffening her posture. “My work for Dr. Frederick comes first.”

‘You will stay as long as you are needed,’ said another of the female council members. This one’s name was Harilixa, as Gema recalled. ‘The Ohja owes us much. Any demand we make of him will be satisfied.’

Gema’s brow twitched at that, and she struggled to maintain the smile on her face. “Dr. Frederick is also very busy with the war. Many innocent people are relying on him for protection, right now. As members of the Vanguard, our first duty is to them.”

‘All the more reason why he should not refuse us,’ said Harilixa. ‘Without our continued support, the Ohja’s triumphs will dry up like a summer rain.’

Her jaw clenched as she held back the retort on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell them that ‘their support’ amounted to little more than a promise. They had not sent any actual troops or aid to the Surgeon Saint’s side. Only a guarantee that he could use this place as a bargaining chip when negotiating with enemy reapers.

Gema had to be careful here, though. Her emotional shield was only so strong. If a new emotion was allowed to take over--such as irritation, for instance--then her thoughts would no longer be protected from all the observing Methusel.

And perhaps that was exactly why Harilixa was saying such inflammatory things. To get a rise out of her.

‘Be mindful how you speak to us, girl. We may adore the Ohja, but you are not he. You are merely one of his pawns.’

Or perhaps she was just a bitch.

“I understand, Councilor,” said Gema, having solidified her smile again. “I can only apologize for any offense given.”

Harilixa said nothing more, and silence filled the chamber for a time.

Gardorox led them out of it. ‘In any case, there is much yet to discuss. Are you hungry from your journey? We will prepare a meal for you.’

Next page at noon PST

Thanks for reading, as always.

Page 3741

Ozolos told her not to worry about it so much, but it was difficult. She had the feeling that the reason she was being refused a teacher was because they preferred being able to talk in front of her without her understanding.

So that they could say all sorts of mean and horrible things, probably.

But the joke was on them, because she was learning. Slowly, but she was learning. Paraya was their term for outsiders. And in her estimation, it harbored a slightly negative connotation.

“Councilors,” said Gema with as much respect in her voice as she could muster. She came to a stop in front of them all and gave a bow. She counted seven of them on this occasion, though she knew there were many more.

The one who’d spoken was named Gardorox, and he continued doing so. ‘What trinkets of the heavenly ones have you brought us this time?’

“No trinkets this time, I’m afraid,” said Gema with a sympathetic smile. “Instead, I bring news.”

The look of disappointment on each of their piscine faces was somehow quite apparent.

She’d been a little worried about that, but there was nothing she could do about it now. “As agreed, Doctor Frederick will soon be sending the first group of reapers here. I have come in order to ensure that you are not surprised by their arrival. And that the transition goes as smoothly as possible.”

‘So you intend to stay a while, then?’ said another reaper, this one feminine. Her name was Atriza, as Gema recalled.

“If the Council is gracious enough to allow it, then yes,” said Gema.

The Councilors all exchanged looks with one another, and many more words were exchanged in that mysterious language of theirs. Unfortunately, she still couldn’t understand very much of it, but she did pick up a few stray words here and there.

Families? Innocence? Young ones? Fighting? No, war.

Bah. Not enough to go off of.

Once they were finished discussing, Gardorox spoke for the group again. ‘The first group will consist of only three, yes?’

“Yes,” said Gema.

‘And they have been chosen personally by the Ohja, yes?’

The Ohja was their term for Cpt. General Fen Frederick. It seemed to be one of particular reverence, though she still wasn’t sure as to its exact meaning yet. “Correct,” she said.

‘Then you may stay,’ said Gardorox. ‘In fact, you must. Until these new arrivals are fully integrated, we shall make use of you.’

Page 3740

The guide continued onward through the throng of reapers in the plaza. Gema could see a few of them eyeing her, though whether it was out of curiosity or suspicion was anyone’s guess. The Old Wardens were a peculiar bunch, to say the least. Personally, Gema had found that many of them were intensely interested in hearing all about the outside world, while many others were decidedly not so.

There seemed to be a divide, of sorts, within the culture here.

Which, she supposed, actually made it no different from most other places in the world.

The journey kept going for even longer than she expected. Each time she’d visited, the meeting place had been different, and indeed, this occasion was apparently going to continue that trend. They ventured all the way through another street full of peculiar buildings and into a more wooded area, where the trail was barely visible.

Soon, the trees grew so thick that she had to push closer to the guide in order make sure not to lose track of him.

Eventually, the guide came to a halt, though not for any obvious reason that Gema could see.

Rather than voicing her confusion, however, she merely waited.

The guide raised his gangly arms over his head, and then the world ahead of them shuddered visibly. The dark forest wavered for a moment like a tapestry caught in a sudden breeze, and then a bright slit appeared down the center of it before transforming into an entire doorway.

An illuminated corridor lay inside, though it thankfully did not appear nearly as long as the last one. She followed the guide through, and soon enough, they arrived in a much larger chamber, one that looked rather like the main hall of a castle.

An invisible castle, she supposed.

Huh.

More reapers were here, of course, but these ones appeared to have been awaiting their arrival. Gema spotted a few more Methusel, as well, which only made her wonder how many others might secretly be observing.

‘Paraya,’ said the centermost reaper as they approached.

That was a word she’d become intimately familiar with over the years. She’d been trying to learn all she could about their language here, but as in all things, they didn’t make it easy. Each time she’d asked for someone to teach her directly, she’d been refused. Even when she asked what a particular term meant, she’d usually been ignored or simply met with silence.

Page 3739

To her eyes, reapers were pitch-black swordfish with a silvery glow and beady eyes alight with tiny white flames. Ozolos, however, did not entirely conform to that look. Rather than black, he was more of a dark gray, and his eyes shone a little more brightly than others.

Why that might’ve been, she still had no earthly idea, nor had anyone else she’d asked about it. The most reasonable explanation she’d gotten was that the slightly altered appearance was a byproduct of reapers with particularly strange personalities. A natural phenomenon observed throughout history.

She felt like there had to be more to it than just that, but at the same time, it did seem appropriate for her reaper in particular.

The reapers here, however, were also special. Maybe not in appearance like Ozolos, but by reputation, because this place was the Wandering Island of Faridel, home of the reaper enclave known as the Old Wardens. And she knew there was yet far more to be seen here, squirreled away in tunnels or behind illusory walls in giant boulders--and probably plenty of other hiding places that she still hadn’t learned about.

She’d been trying her damnedest to learn more about the history of the Wandering Island whenever she could, but information about it was preciously rare, and trying to get the Wardens to talk about it was like trying to get water from a stone.

The most she’d been able to learn had come from the Prime Archivers in Luugh. She’d been fortunate enough to be given a mission near there a couple years ago and had decided not to waste the opportunity.

There were many mythic tales of this place, such as the one of its origin. Supposedly, the Island was carved out of the small Luughian continent by a great sea turtle, who took the land upon its back in order to rescue the native population from a monstrous horde of invaders that was soon to arrive.

Of course, these days, it was easy enough to see from the air that there was no giant turtle beneath the island. And while its wandering nature was still somewhat mysterious, there were plenty of scientific explanations for it, such as buoyant algae along the underside of the island and large pockets of gas being trapped underground.

Took a bit of the mystique away, perhaps, but on the whole, she preferred science to legend.

Next page at noon

Apologies for all the delays, lately. And thanks for your patience.

By the way, a question for you: do you think I should go back and delete all these delay announcement pages? For ease of binge reading and whatnot? Or do you think it doesn't matter? I'm ont sure if it's worth the hassle.

Page 3738

‘They are one of the most well-hidden branches of humanity to ever walk the planet,’ Valess had told her. ‘Not only are they capable of manipulating minds and wiping memories like Sparrows, but they also possess an impeccable capacity for camouflage. My advice to you, therefore, is to treat them with exceptional compassion and politeness, because no matter how well you develop your psychic defenses, you may never truly know how many of them are in a room with you at a given moment. You should always assume that you are greatly outnumbered and being judged by attentive observers.’

Needless to say, that hadn’t been the most comforting thing to hear, but she’d tried to take it to heart during each of her visits to this place.

They finally reached the end of the long corridor, and a grand view of the main town opened up before her.

The central plaza drew the eye first, being so open and full of foot traffic. The buildings all around it were not uniform at all, varying in not only size and shape but also color, texture, and decoration. Where one was covered in vines and greenery, another looked as though it had been chiseled out of rock by a sculptor obsessed with geometry. Still another building had a decidedly Jesbolese aesthetic with its swooping roof and curving angles, while the one next to it looked more Intarian with how harsh and pointy it was.

There was even a building that just looked like a big pile of sticks thrown on top of each other. Crazier still, Gema thought she might actually know who lived in that one, despite never having gone inside.

Trees were also a common sight here, but perhaps not as much as one might’ve expected from the Methusel. She’d wondered why that was, and Valess had told her that it was because the Methusel did not care for shelter very much. They preferred to sleep outside, apparently.

Having never witnessed any of them sleeping, she supposed she would just have to take Valess’ word on that.

But that of course meant that all the buildings here were not for the Methusel. They were for the island’s primary inhabitants. The ones whom the Methusel had been protecting since time immemorial.

And Gema could see them out and about, all over the plaza.

Reapers. As numerous as she’d ever seen. And with nary a servant in sight.

Page 3737

‘I have a question for you,’ said Ozolos publicly.

“Yes?” said their guide.

‘Do your people take offense to being compared with the Dulvani?’

The guide fell quiet for a moment. “...Compared to? No, I should think no offense would be taken there. But if you presume overmuch about us because of them, then yes, you may create some awkward conversations. Why do you ask this of me, by the way?”

‘Curiosity.’

“No other reason?”

‘History, as well.’

“What do you mean by that?”

Unfortunately, however, this proved to be yet another of those instances wherein Ozolos decided not to respond, leaving only an uncomfortable silence behind.

Enough so, in fact, that the guide’s head turned one hundred and eighty degrees around in order to look at the two of them, his wooden neck making a crackling noise all the while. He didn’t stop walking forward, either.

Not knowing what else to do, Gema just gave a flat smile and then returned to examining the walls and windows.

Play dumb. Just play dumb. Dumb and innocent. Her tried and tested tools.

It seemed to work well enough. The guide gave up and turned back around, making it a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

She’d gotten used to that a while ago. This was not her first encounter with the Methusel.

They were a fascinating people but not exactly the easiest to read. Or learn about at all, for that matter. She’d never even heard of them three years ago, and in the time since then, she hadn’t been able to discover much about them or their history.

They all seemed to be quite stoic and soft-spoken. They were still human-shaped overall, but their bodies were noticeably more malleable. She wasn’t yet sure if they had any flesh beneath the ‘bark’ that covered them entirely or if they were actually wooden all the way through; but she did know that said bark could grow and change at will. And quite quickly, too.

At the moment, their guide’s bark was a smooth, pale white with an occasional black knot in it, but when she first saw him, it had been a deep brown color full of ridges.

She’d asked Ozolos about them numerous times, because she suspected he knew plenty, but thus far, he’d yet to elaborate. Thankfully, one of the other reapers within the CID, name of Valess, had been able to illuminate a few things for her.

Next page on the 9th

Thanks for your patience, everybody. I'll remember this time. The 9th. Definitely the 10th. Just kidding, the 9th.

Hope you're all having a good holiday season so far.

Page 3736

When she first became a servant and met this enigma of a reaper, it had been more than a little confusing. She’d sometimes heard her parents talk about their reapers and their personalities, but with Ozolos being the very first one she ever spoke to herself, she’d still needed Axiolis to come along shortly thereafter and inform her that they weren’t all like that.

‘Ozolos is someone who never moves at anyone’s pace other than his own,’ Axiolis had told her. ‘I won’t lie to you, girl. He may become a source of regular frustration for you. He may confuse you and annoy you and even cause problems for you with other people, who also find him bothersome. But one thing I have learned about him over the many Ages that I have known him is that deep down, he has wisdom. And when the chips are down, when it really matters, you will be able to rely on him.’

For her part, after five or so years as his servant, Gema still didn’t quite know if she agreed with that assessment. She’d been trying to give the reaper the benefit of the doubt, but it was hard, sometimes.

Life was hard, sometimes. And being considerate became all the more difficult.

She’d yelled at the reaper quite a bit, early on. Lost her cool.

It never seemed to faze Ozolos in the slightest. Perhaps that was why she’d stopped. She would’ve liked to believe, instead, that it was simply because she’d grown more mature and level-headed, but eh. That was probably wishful thinking, she knew.

Here and now, the reaper was attached to her back, just below her right shoulder. Not saying a word, as usual.

This was another of his habits. He often just grabbed onto her with no explanation and went along for the ride. She was beginning to think he just didn’t like floating around under his own power or something.

On this occasion, at least, there was justification for it. Reapers were vulnerable to psychics--not always, but often. Clinging to her like this afforded him a bit more protection against them.

Technically, Ozolos had undergone the exact same training as she had, but it was anyone’s guess if it had stuck. The two of them hadn’t encountered any problems thus far, so it was probably fine, but still. It was a nagging thought. One of many, when it came to Ozolos.

Page 3735

The strangest part of it all, however, had to be the fact that her increased emotional disturbance was actually useful to her work. Her worry over her family’s circumstances made it easier to summon an emotional smokescreen for her thoughts against psychics. She just had to think about her father for a bit--or her little siblings--and the emotions popped right up, persisting even after she started thinking about other things.

Much of the training had been about achieving that emotional summon on command in one’s mind. Entering the appropriate state of mind. Controlling the breathing. Tapping into memories. Or conjuring imaginary scenarios, if memories didn’t do the trick. And meditation, too, of course.

Now that all seemed a bit unnecessary. She had a shortcut to use.

Or at least, that was how Miles had reframed the situation for her.

<“Make use of what is useful,”> he’d told her. <“However you can. Even when it’s painful.”>

She still didn’t know to feel about that. Or about him, frankly. He’d always seemed to have an answer for everything. A solution for every problem. But sometimes, those solutions were a bit... unsettling.

She’d wanted to ask him and Overra more about what had really transpired in Sair, before the war broke out, but he’d been so difficult to get ahold of. The one time she’d been able to talk to him had been over the phone, and he’d told her not to worry too much and that it would all get sorted out, eventually.

<“It’s all a big mess and too difficult to explain right now, but trust me when I say that your family and everyone else are going to be just fine. Once things settle down a little, I promise to answer all your questions. For now, just focus on your missions. Fen’s got you doing important work for him, right? I knew you’d be a perfect fit over there.”>

She didn’t exactly take that advice to heart, at first. Her trip back home to Aguarey had required quite a bit of finesse and favor-providing, especially on the part of her reaper, Ozolos. He was a very old reaper--on par, even, with Axiolis--and so, he had a number of friends within the Vanguard to ask for help.

He certainly hadn’t been quick about it, though. For as long as she’d known him, Ozolos had always been peculiar. Even among other reapers, he apparently had that reputation.

My bad, guys. Thought I said the 5th

Whoops. I really thought I said the 5th. Didn't mean to freak you guys out. Next page will up tonight at midnight PST.

Next page on the 4th

Thanks for reading, everyone.

Page 3734

That last fight with her parents had been so bad. The memory of it was still dreadfully vivid in her mind. Some of the things she’d said...

And yeah, her parents had said some horrible things, too. Particularly her mother. And yeah, Gema certainly didn’t regret everything that she had said. There’d been several years’ worth of cathartic release from that conversation.

But there was one thing she felt guilty about above all the rest.

“I wish you were dead! I wish you and your bitch sister had been killed along with everyone else that day!”

It was painful even to think about. Strict as he might’ve been with her, Papa hadn’t deserved that. Nor had Aunt Joana.

The worst thing, though, was that Papa hadn’t even gotten mad.

He’d just looked hurt.

That expression on his face. She’d never seen it before.

In the moment, worked up as she was, she’d actually been happy about that reaction. She’d intentionally said the most hurtful thing that she could think of, after all. And she’d succeeded. Achieved her goal.

Then her mother immediately slapped the shit out of her and yelled at her to get out of the house.

It wasn’t until later, after she’d left and started to calm down, that she began to feel regret.

Now, all these years later, calling it regret would have been an understatement. That expression on her father’s face haunted her.

Especially lately.

News of the turmoil in Sair had done nothing to soothe her heart. And then the greater war, as well?

She’d actually managed to get reassigned to Sair after the war broke out, working as a scout, but that hadn’t lasted long. The call came down that Frederick was in need of agents with anti-psychic training, and so she answered.

There hadn’t been anything to see in Sair, anyway. She’d been too late. She visited the family estate in Aguarey, but there was no one there. Not even the staff had remained behind. Good thing, too, since the city had turned into a battlefield.

Now she didn’t even know if that house would still be there when she returned.

If she returned.

So she’d decided to throw herself into her work. Fully commit to the cause. Few were more just than this one, after all. This war needed fighting. And its warriors needed information, resources, and allies. She intended to do her part and then some.

Page 3733

“I see,” said her guide, though he left it at that.

Which was a bit surprising, she felt, but she wasn’t complaining, either. Thus far, the psychics here were truly a different breed. She had to wonder how much contact with the outside world they actually experienced, because unlike the ones she’d met before, these people were completely unafraid to tell you that they were trying to read your thoughts.

In a weird way, despite how utterly rude it was, she kind of respected it. At least they were being straightforward. Not trying to subtly manipulate her.

As she’d been taught, the main trick to defending against psychics was to create a smokescreen over one’s thoughts. There were various methods of accomplishing that, of course, but the easiest one was to use emotion. More complex thoughts could also be used for that smokescreen, but that was obviously going to be harder, since it essentially involved maintaining two different lines of thought at once. She wasn’t quite capable of that yet, but she hoped to be, one day.

It had been plenty difficult learning how to summon, harness, and wield her own emotions defensively. Her teachers had been rather ruthless about it, too, save one. But that was just another reason why Captain General Fen Frederick was her favorite. Technically speaking, Captain General Parson Miles might’ve been the better instructor--and the entire reason why she’d been able to even meet Dr. Frederick in the first place--but in her estimation, the Surgeon Saint truly did live up to his moniker.

That man had some kind of otherworldly charisma to him. And a heart of gold to go along with it.

So when she saw her chance to join one of his divisions, she took it. And now, here she was, traveling around the world on some of the most secretive missions that the Vanguard had to offer.

Her career had only just gotten moving, and yet she already had a fair few stories under her belt. Whether she would actually be able to tell them to anyone was another matter. If her littlest sister ever found out about her work, then the questions would no doubt become incessant.

Assuming she ever returned home, that was.

Gema Elroy genuinely did not know if such a time would arrive. Her reaper kept telling her not to think that way, that there was no telling what the future held, but at the moment, Gema just couldn’t see it happening.

Page 3732 -- CCCVI.

This time, however, the illusion didn’t stay long. It shifted quickly into another, similar scene, where Raheem was a bit older again--only this time, he wasn’t alone. Another, smaller child was right in front of him, tucked in a small cot and sleeping away while Raheem watched.

Then again, the scene changed, even more rapidly than before--so fast, even, that Hector had trouble making sense of everything. And it just kept going. More scenes, more children, more locations and situations. All in glimpses. The only clear throughline was Raheem himself, growing steadily older as siblings sprouted up all around him, pestering him, making him laugh, making him worry, making him angry, even making him cry.

It was remarkable, Hector thought. Overwhelming and remarkable. Too much to take in all at once like this, certainly, and he couldn’t stop trying, either.

The others were saying things now. Abbas and Garovel and Worwal. And he fully intended to listen to whatever they were saying and respond to it.

But for a few moments longer, Hector Goffe simply kept observing in awed silence.


Chapter Three Hundred Six: ‘O, long-departed ingenue...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)

“You have a troubled soul, child.”

“Oh, really? Thanks.” She knew this wasn’t going to be fun. Even with all the training she’d been put through in recent years specifically for this purpose, it would’ve been foolish to think that this mission was going to be some sort of cakewalk.

Dealing with psychics was always going to spell trouble.

And this was a whole town full of them. A whole society.

Well. Mostly whole.

There was, of course, a non-psychic group at the heart of it all. They were also rather important to this place, to say the least.

“That was not meant as a compliment,” said her tall guide as they walked down a long, green-lit corridor together.

She knew that, of course. That was just how she dealt with rude people. By pretending she didn’t understand. In her line of work, it often made things easier. So she made no response here, instead choosing to let her eyes wander at the verdant surroundings, as if she were barely even paying attention to the conversation.

This guide was a persistent one, though. “Your thoughts seem to be of somewhere else. A homesickness, perhaps?“

Ah, she could respond that. “Yeah. Family issues, y’know? But I miss them. As surely as the sun shines.”

Next page at noon PST

Thanks for reading, everyone.

Page 3731

As their conversation continued on, Hector remained largely stuck in his own head. Mulling over everything Abbas had just told him. He felt so odd. Like he was having an epiphany. And also not. As if something he’d always known was suddenly being made clear to him. And yet he couldn’t even articulate what it actually was.

It was some kind of cerebral stalemate. A knot, struggling to untie itself.

Agh. He wished he wasn’t so stupid. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have to think so hard to figure this weird knot out. Or maybe it wouldn’t have gotten all knotted up in the first place.

Even as he kept listening to the others’ conversation, his mind was looking for answers. For clues, even. Anything to help him solve the puzzle that was his own confusion.

Abbas had caused this. It followed, therefore, that Abbas would hold more answers. The only problem was that Hector didn’t even know the questions to ask. And they were still talking, besides.

Interrupt? With what? He didn’t know.

Instead, he found himself reaching out. For what? For more memories. Of what?

Abbas’ children?

Would that be wrong? Hector didn’t know that, either. Truthfully, he still didn’t rightly know how any of this was working. Auras, the Gate, connecting with his mind, manifesting illusions from the past. He wasn’t sure how much there was to find. Did Abbas have to offer the memory up willingly? Consciously? Probably. And if not, then maybe that wouldn’t be--

He found something. Before he could learn anything more about it, the new memory was already manifesting, recasting an illusion over the world around them.

The other three took notice of the change, too. Of course they did. The illusion melted into a completely different scene. The location was blurrier, but the people were not. In it, Abbas was grinning ear-to-ear and holding up a slightly older Raheem, whose little face was already recognizable to Hector as the fully grown man he would one day become.

The baby boy was saying something, Hector realized. Too bad it was in Valgan, so he couldn’t--

“Abbi! Abbi!”

No, wait. Now that he thought about it, he did know what that meant, didn’t he?

Heh.

He wasn’t sure when he’d learned it, but he supposed the dots also weren’t terribly difficult to connect, given the context here. Raheem’s mother looked just as pleased as her husband did.

Page 3730

Wow. Somehow, Hector felt like he’d just received a lot more information than he’d expected. And he’d expected a fair bit.

And it wasn’t just in regard to Abbas’ personal history, either. That certainly interested Hector, too, but there was something else. Something in the underlying philosophy that the man had just espoused. The way Abbas described the world.

A neverending struggle against human extinction.

One of Hector’s background thought processes had held on to those words. Brought them close. And now he couldn’t stop examining them.

Why?

Why did they feel so relevant to him on an intimate level? They were summoning two contradictory feelings at once. They made him feel as if he’d never thought that way before. But also as if he’d always thought that way.

How did that make any sense?

It was enough to make all of his thought processes converge together, and he couldn’t help remaining silent for a while, even after the Lord Saqqaf seemed to finish his story.

Thankfully, Garovel was there to keep up the conversation in his stead. ‘Heh,’ the reaper laughed. ‘Thank you for sharing all of that with us. Especially that last part. Think I felt my cold, dead heart warm up just a little. And truthfully, I’m also incredibly relieved by what I’ve learned of you here today, Lord Abbas.’

Abbas tilted his head. ‘Relieved? In what manner?’

Worwal snickered, but didn’t say anything, drawing the Sunsmith’s glance.

‘There is a certain amount of... shall we say, “historical justification” for worrying about powerful integrators. Inventors, in particular. Strange and brilliant minds. Far too often, with people like you, your work consumes you. Until you lose all connections to the world. And of late, you have been exhibiting some... troubling behavior in that regard, specifically.’

Abbas opened his mouth, then closed it again without retort.

‘But I see now that your family does indeed mean everything to you,’ said Garovel. ‘Until now, I feared that, perhaps, all of these children and grandchildren you have might’ve merely been the result of some societal obligation that you felt. And that you were still at great risk of becoming lost to us all through your work. So yes, I am relieved and happy to get a glimpse of your deeply held emotional ties.’

Worwal decided to chime in again. ‘To be clear, he IS still at risk of that. I worry about it constantly.’

Garovel chortled. ‘Of course. I didn’t mean to imply that there was no risk at all. Just that there was less than I feared. Which is a comforting thought.’

Next page on the 27th

Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 3729

‘Over time,’ Abbas went on, ‘my large family gradually diminished. Wars took their toll on us. In more ways than one. And I... ignored it all, for the most part. I grieved, sure. Endured the misery. As we all do. But I never changed my thinking. I focused only on my work. On myself. Whenever I thought of the future, it was in terms of technological development and nothing else.

‘It is to my shame that I did not truly begin to change until there were only four of us left. Four brothers. And finally, I started to view Abolish for what they truly are.’

Hector didn’t follow. ‘What do you mean by that?’

The Sunsmith met his gaze. ‘They are an ideologically-possessed opponent. Exceptions within their ranks can certainly be found, but at their core, they are a cult of death. An enemy of all human life, seeking its destruction wherever and however they can. When I was younger, I viewed them as nothing more than... a physical threat. An enemy to be fought solely on the battlefield. With power. With technology. But then I began to see that fighting them--truly fighting them--can involve more than killing their warriors and protecting innocent life. It can also involve creating new life.’

Hector’s eyes shifted to the illusory floor as he absorbed those words. Huh...

‘When I viewed the world in that context,’ said Abbas, ‘I rather abruptly began to feel that having children was not merely a duty to my own family and bloodline. It was also a moral imperative in this neverending battle against human extinction.’

Damn. Hector had no idea how to respond to that.

‘And so, from there, I became highly motivated to find a wife and have as many children as I possibly could. But in the pursuit of our dreams, life often provides us with more difficulty than we anticipate. While I did manage to meet a lovely woman and get married, we struggled terribly trying to have children. She had four miscarriages within the span of two years. Then she vanished, and I have not seen her since. I have no idea what became of her, though I... I suspect...’ He closed his eyes and shook his head before continuing. ‘I don’t know.’

Hector was at even more of a loss than before.

‘And so we have the scene before you now,’ said Abbas. ‘Raheem’s mother was my second wife. And when he was born, I was indeed... beside myself with relief and joy. In fact, it might well stand as the happiest moment in my life. Embarrassing though it may be, I am also... pleased that I can relive it again like this.’

Page 3728

‘Wow,’ said Garovel. ‘I know this is an emotional moment in every father’s life, but, uh... you really, um... just... wow.’

The older Abbas scratched his cheek. ‘Ah... perhaps I should have picked a different memory...’

Garovel chortled. ‘First one that came to mind, huh?’

‘Indeed...’

‘He cried more than Raheem did that day,’ said Worwal. ‘Far more. It was very heartwarming, I thought. And perhaps a little pathetic, too.’

Abbas shot the reaper a look.

‘But there was also more going on in our lives than is made clear by this scene here,’ added Worwal. ‘It had been... a difficult few years.’

That piqued Hector’s curiosity--as well as his hesitation. ‘W-what do you mean?’

The vision paused, along with the younger Abbas’ wailing. Hector hadn’t intended to do that, but now that it was done, it seemed better to keep it that way.

Rather than answering the question, however, Worwal deferred to his servant.

Abbas looked over his captive audience, and for a very strange moment, Hector felt like he could see exactly how old Abbas truly was. That expression on the man’s face didn’t change much at all, and yet there was still something in his eyes--a tiredness, perhaps--that spoke of many feelings all at once.

Hector had never witnessed the like before. And it made Hector hang on to every word that Abbas was about to say.

‘There were many reasons why I... fell apart like this. When I was young--even younger than here, I mean--I never thought much of having children. Of carrying on my family line. I partook in many different hobbies, you see. Many personal interests. And social interaction was... decidedly NOT one such area, to say the least.’

Hector was suddenly trying hard not to relate too much. And failing.

‘My reclusive nature caused friction between me and... well, my parents, of course. But also my entire family. Worwal here, included.’

The reaper gave an acknowledging nod.

‘I was neglecting my responsibility, they said. And they were right. As a man of Hahl Saqqaf, I had a duty to carry on my bloodline. But I also had eight brothers. All of whom were much more sociable than I. All of whom seemed to be doing just fine in carrying on our family’s legacy. And I think my parents probably thought the same, deep down. We all had our quirks. This was just one of mine. They could let it slide. And so this continued on for many years.’

Oh, man. Hector had a dreadful feeling that he knew where this was going.

Page 3727

A moment later, the man’s palm arrived exactly there, and just as Hector suspected, Abbas Saqqaf’s aura became clearer in his mind’s eye. Along with his soul, too. Both shone together brilliantly, almost indistinguishably from one another, as he peered harder into them. Searching. Thinking of the memory as Abbas had described it.

It should have been obvious. Abbas was probably thinking about it right now, himself. Unless he was being a jerk and purposely trying to make things harder.

Yes. The first thing of substance was there. That seemed right. Felt right. He embraced it with his own aura, let the Core have a bit of leeway. Freedom to help. It wanted to. He could sense its desire.

He felt a change all around him, but in his mind’s eye, he saw not much difference.

So he tried opening his eyes.

A pristine white hallway. A continuous bar of golden paint on each wall. Valgan words on each sign. A floor of polished tile. More white and gold, but with outlines of black, too.

It didn’t quite look like a hospital, Hector thought. In fact, it looked a bit like the Golden Fort, which he and Garovel had visited in Kuros. Not identical, though. Perhaps this was a different area of it? Or it had been remodeled since then? Raheem was probably quite old, so that might make sense.

Then he noticed Abbas. A second one, that was. Visibly younger, though not terribly so. But perhaps that was due, at least in part, to how utterly haggard the younger Abbas looked. Frazzled hair. Deep bags under his eyes. Pacing back and forth across the floor. And smoking a cigarette, too. That was a surprise.

Meanwhile, the older Abbas was right there next to him, looking on with complete awe, stepping closer, then to the side, as if not wanting to get in the way of his younger self.

A baby’s cry arrived, muffled behind a closed door. The younger Abbas instantly turned and bolted through it.

Hector and the other three observers followed.

Young Abbas was bent over the bed, hugging his wife and new child.

And sobbing uncontrollably.

The staff were smiling and presumably congratulating the couple in Valgan, but they were also giving some strange looks to the loud, weeping man in front of them, even as they mopped the floor and wiped down the room. One of them was attempting to apply a stethoscope to the child and not succeeding, because Abbas was in the way and apparently too far gone to even notice.

Page 3726

He understood a little better now. It probably couldn’t transport him anywhere, just like Lord Abbas said, but perhaps it could show him something from the past.

Just him, though? What about everyone else?

He pulled himself back a bit, wanting to sense everyone around him again.

Garovel. Worwal. Abbas.

And there they were. Right alongside him. But he maintained his connection to the Gate, too. It was surprisingly easy.

Because of the Core. Ah. It was behaving. Good.

‘Whoa,’ came Garovel’s silent voice. ‘This is different. What am I even sensing, right now?’

‘Oh, you can sense a change,’ thought Hector. ‘I’m trying to include you guys.’

‘Was that Hector?!’ came another voice, one Hector didn’t recognize at first.

Hector might’ve blinked if his eyes weren’t already closed. ‘Was that Abbas?’

‘We can hear each other’s thoughts!’ said the Lord Saqqaf, sounding quite amazed and pleased. ‘Aha! How are you doing this?!’

‘That’s a good question, uh... I think it’s mainly our proximity to the Gate. Its aura is... kinda huge, actually. Covers this whole area. And I... think I’ve kinda... tapped into it a little. Thanks to your Living Core.’

‘Incredible...!’

‘While it is amazing, I also find it mildly unsettling,’ said Worwal.

‘Me, too, actually,’ said Garovel. ‘Servants shouldn’t be able to communicate with each other like we do. That’s supposed be our thing and no one else’s. What’re you gonna steal from us next, huh?’

Hector snickered. ‘Garovel... shut up.’

‘What else can the Core allow you to do?’ said Abbas.

‘Not sure yet,’ said Hector. ‘But I think the Gate can let us view memories of the past. That’s why I wanted to include you all. With any luck, we can all witness something together.’

‘Memories, you say?’ said Worwal. ‘What sort of memories?’

‘That’s also a good question,’ said Hector with a bob his head. ‘Uh... I think... just about anything? Or rather... anything within proximity of the Gate. Within the aura.’

‘Hmm,’ hummed Abbas. ‘Does that include us?’

‘...I guess so?’

‘A test, then,’ said Abbas. ‘Show me the birth of my son, Raheem.’

Holy shit, uh. Okay. The man was ready to go, apparently.

Hector concentrated, thinking about that request more. How to accomplish it? Hmm. Auras, auras. Uh. They were kinda muddy, still. Hard to read, let alone connect to. Maybe if he... hmm...

‘Er... can you put your hand on my shoulder?’ asked Hector.

Next page at noon PST.

Just a bit more time. Thanks, everyone.

Page 3725

It wasn’t like Cocora’s Candle. That thing had a real sentience to it. It could talk to him--or try to, at least. This didn’t. This was different.

Heh. Wow. He remembered how strange and overwhelming all of his encounters with the Candle had felt. But oddly enough, this experience here--with this quiet Gate--made those previous ones with the Candle feel somehow more sensible to him. Like it was adding a new context through which he could view a problem that used to befuddle him.

And it also reinforced how truly special the Candle was, by comparison. How much more sophisticated it was. If the Candle was like an animal, then this was like a single-celled organism.

Interesting.

Ah, but still. Careful, he told himself.

Abbas said this thing was dormant, and while Hector did believe the man was correct, he still didn’t wish to test that statement too much. If the Gate was waiting for a ‘direction,’ then that seemed like a somewhat dangerous thing to be providing without due consideration, given the fact that he already knew it was a teleporter.

Hmm.

But there was a lot more here than just that, too. The aura was so receptive to him. So welcoming. And it had such depth to it. The ‘direction’ that it desired from him wasn’t just physical. It would accept a different kind, too.

But what did that mean, exactly?

Agh.

This “aura reading” thing was hard. Messy. Maybe there was some special trick to it that he didn’t understand yet. Right now, it was like trying to grab water with his hands. Technically possible, sure, but one wrong move, and it would slip right through his fingers.

He refocused.

What did it want? What was the true nature of this non-sentient thing’s desire?

...To see? No. To show.

It wanted to show him something. Anything, really. Anything he asked it to. Anything within its ability to.

Anything within the ability of its aura.

Whoa.

He knew quite well by now that auras could retain memories. And they could reveal memories in others, too. As auras linked together. Worked in tandem. Or were manipulated by a greater aura. Such as that of a Sparrow.

He sensed a change in the Gate. Because it was sensing him now, too. More specifically, it was sensing an opportunity to provide him with something. To show him. In accordance with its desire.

Did he wish to view a memory? And if so, which one?

Aha. He needed only to provide it with a direction.

Page 3724

‘Looks like we’ve got their permission,’ said Hector.

‘Yup,’ said Garovel, though it did come with a sigh.

‘You sound disappointed,’ said Hector.

‘I’m not. At least, not really. If anything, I’m only disappointed with myself for how excited I feel.’

‘What? You’re a walking contradiction, Garovel. Er. A floating one.’

‘Well, when you can acknowledge your flaws and try to change them, only to revert back to your degenerate ways, it can come with some complicated feelings.’

‘Y’know, I remember you calling me a drama king, once. Turns out, I was in good company.’

‘Alright, smartass. Let’s just get on with this, shall we? And if anything goes horribly wrong, this was never our plan. It was purely Abbas and Worwal’s idea. Agreed?’

‘One hundred percent.’

And so it was that they approached Rathmore’s Gate as the sun hung low in the sky, blanketing the natural scenery in a deeply red-orange glow. The monument was cool to the touch, and Hector kept the rest of his armor on, save only the gauntlets for his bare hands. He took a long, slow breath as he cleared his mind and found his concentration.

First, he felt for the Gate with his soul. Easy enough. It was clear as day to him now. Aura, too. Like a great pillar of light shining in his mind’s eye. Then, he felt for the Core in his hand.

And that was when the world around him came alive in an entirely new way.

What an incredible sensation. Like he was suddenly in a car--or motorcycle, perhaps--speeding down a highway when he’d been standing perfectly still only a moment prior.

He felt the world rushing past him. In fact, he might have mistaken it for actual wind, if not for the Scarf telling him the air currents around had not changed a bit. Still the same calm breeze he’d felt before.

Then he felt the circling, too. The spinning. The world, revolving.

Huh.

What was it doing?

He sensed more there now. Yeah. The aura. He sensed intent. Desire.

Whoa.

Distinct. Different. As all auras were, of course. But this one was very different. Despite how powerful it was, it felt much less... sentient. Maybe not at all, even. Unaware of itself? But still waiting. Patiently.

For him?

Yes.

For him to provide it with something. A command? No. A direction? Ah. Maybe so.

Desire, but not awareness. Not intelligence. How weird.

Page 3723

“That is important information,” said Abbas, “and all the more reason why we should have a working Kag of our own as soon as possible. At the moment, the Gate is a one-way road. If, gods forbid, an invasion were to be launched through it, we would have no ability to mount a counterattack until a new Kag was made. I suppose I should make it a top priority project, after all, just to be safe.”

Holy fuck. That was a scenario that Hector hadn’t even considered before. He held back a sigh as he rubbed his forehead. “It was bad enough when I only had to worry about a war arriving through Lorent...”

Abbas regarded him with a hint of amusement in his expression. “As you grow older, you will no doubt come to understand that, if you are acting as a true lord over your lands, then ‘worrying’ is your entire profession.”

Hector merely frowned, not exactly loving what he was hearing.

Abbas looked toward Worwal, who then chimed in again. ‘As a great statesman once said, “In every Age, the state of the world will drive you mad, if you allow it. And unfortunately, allow it we must, in the hope that our subjects might be spared from some portion of its unending cruelty.’

Hector’s frown didn’t get any better, but he did feel compelled to say something. “Worwal, holy crap. You’re as bad as Garovel.”

‘I beg your pardon, young man? What is that supposed to mean?’

“It means you’re a real downer!” said Hector.

Abbas snorted, then laughed outright.

Worwal did not, instead merely cocking a skeletal eyebrow at his servant.

‘For the record, I resent that,’ said Garovel. ‘I can be optimistic.’

“Yeah, you can be,” said Hector. “But you’re not.”

The conversation continued on that track for a bit longer, with Worwal expressing his displeasure at both Hector and Abbas; and Hector offered a small amount of appreciation for the reaper’s words of old wisdom, but for the most part, he held his ground. Because for some reason, he felt as though he had to, or else these ancient, jaded-as-hell reapers would overwhelm him and Abbas both.

The Sunsmith, for his part, merely seemed entertained.

Eventually, however, the subject moved back to the Gate, and Hector and Garovel had to consult with each other privately as they came to a decision about it.

Page 3722

At length, Abbas decided to speak up. “While we are here, I would like for you to try interfacing with Rathmore’s Gate, using the Living Core.”

Hector’s eyes widened, and he blinked.

The previous moment of tension had been rather unceremoniously obliterated. Had Abbas not even noticed it in the first place? Or simply not cared, perhaps?

Abbas’ expression remained unchanged as he elaborated. “That is, if you are comfortable doing so. I understand that it may seem a bit risky, but Worwal and I will be here to pull you out, should anything go wrong. Just as you did for us.”

Worwal jumped in before Hector could respond. ‘That is a weak safety net, I feel. We were unable to pull Hector out of his coma when he first interfaced with the Candle. Why should he and Garovel believe now that we would be able to retrieve them from a dive into the Gate?’

“Because now we have the Core,” defended Abbas.

‘But the Core hates us, apparently.’

“I am aware. And that is why Hector should be the one to dive instead of me. He has already demonstrated ample skill in controlling it. You and I will be there to assist and guide him, if necessary.”

‘Or,’ said Worwal, ‘we could simply have neither of you do this, instead. And avoid a needless risk.’

“The risk is minimal,” said Abbas, looking from Worwal to Hector and Garovel. “If you are worried about accidentally triggering the Gate’s power, don’t be. Without a Kag, it is dormant.”

‘You sure about that?’ said Garovel. ‘Hector and I have both experienced its power once before, when it teleported us here from the Undercrust. Along with several other people.’

“Excuse me?” said Abbas, eyeing the monument another time. “Ah, of course. I believe I have already heard much of that tale. So this was how you returned, then? Interesting.”

‘Yeah, so it’s definitely not dormant. Not completely, anyway.’

Abbas shook his head. “No, it is. I’m certain of it. But that means someone else is already in possession of a working Kag for this Gate. Whoever it was that activated it for you. There were multiple strange figures involved, yes? What were their names again?”

‘Malast and Royo Raju,’ said Worwal. ‘Correct?’

‘That’s right,’ said Garovel.

Hector didn’t recall ever telling them that, but he supposed it was only natural that word would have gotten around, especially to the reapers, who were always talking to one another.

Page 3721

‘And did you discover anything else after those examinations?’ said Worwal.

‘Not particularly,’ said Garovel with a hint of exasperation. ‘They’re unbreakable, immovable, and typically reach far deeper into the earth than one might expect.’

“Immovable?” said Abbas. “What do you mean by that, precisely?”

‘Oh, did you not know that about them? They can’t be removed from whatever location they are found in. Even if you dig out all the dirt and rock around them, carve an entire canyon where they stand, they’ll actually stay exactly where they are. They’ll float in midair, even.’

That was news to Hector. He could see the surprise on Abbas and Worwal’s faces, too.

‘Truly?’ said Worwal. ‘You are not making that up, are you?’

Garovel seemed amused. ‘Not only that, but the land around them will slowly regenerate into its previous state, too. So even if you did go through all the trouble of carving out a whole canyon, your work would be undone in a matter of... hmm, days? Weeks, maybe?’

“Remarkable,” said Abbas. “How have I never learned of this?”

‘Heh. Don’t feel bad. Instead, feel impressed. By me. And how incredibly knowledgeable I am.’

‘I am still not entirely convinced that you are being serious,’ said Worwal.

‘Oh, I am. Like I said, I’ve been studying these things for a very long time. I’m familiar with many of the quieter efforts made throughout history to learn more about the Tools--and let me tell you: more than a few of those efforts have ended up largely forgotten by the academic community.’

‘Ah. A sadly all too common tale.’

‘Indeed,’ said Garovel with a nod. ‘And it doesn’t help that the Tools themselves have also been forgotten by many. But yeah. I’m sure you’ve seen similar problems in your own research, no? Fierce competition. Information being purposely buried. That sort of thing.’

‘Of course,’ said Worwal, an abrupt heaviness in tone. ‘Along with... much worse things, as well. But I’m sure I do not need to tell that to a Prime Archiver.’

Garovel seemed to match his energy. ‘Yes. I’ve witnessed more collateral damage done to the world for this infuriating reason than I even care to remember. If only it were possible to forget.’

A silence arrived as the two reapers fell quiet.

Hector exchanged looks with Abbas, not knowing if one of them should try to revive the conversation.

Next page on the 16th

Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 3720

He took in a deep breath and steadied himself, seeing that Worwal was still looking at him. ‘You’re right,’ he told Garovel, and he put the Core back inside his armor. ‘At the very least, we should consult Abbas before pulling another stunt like that.’

‘Mmhmm. And can you imagine how much shit he and Worwal would give us if we just jumped in there, right now? In the middle of the examination, too? We’d look like huge assholes.’

‘Yeah...’

‘But I like your thinking, kid. You’ve got moxie. Don’t lose it, just ‘cuz I’m fightin’ ya on this one.’

Hector frowned inside his helmet. ‘Kid? You’ve never called me kid before.’

‘Yeah, I’m tryin’ it out. Whaddya think?’

‘...I hate it, honestly. From other people, sure. But from you, egh. No.’

The reaper laughed. ‘Alright, fine.’

They decided to wait patiently for Abbas to finish his examination. Hector thought about sitting down and meditating, but it didn’t take much longer for the man to let go of the monument and walk over to them.

‘So what’s the verdict?’ said Garovel publicly.

“It is a magnificent structure,” said Abbas. “The etchings on the surface are almost invisible to the naked eye, but the flow of ardor through them is still pristine. As if they’d been crafted yesterday. That is how you know they are the work of a master integrator. Eliminating all leakage is a thing that even I still struggle with. Fortunately, my work rarely calls for such precision. Machinery will always be in need of repair or refinement, regardless of how much time is spent perfecting the finished product.”

‘...Alright. I’m not too proud to admit that most of that went over my head,’ said Garovel. ‘Was any of that relevant to the issue of creating a new Kag?’

“Yes,” said Abbas. “The flawlessness of the etchings will need to be replicated in the Kag itself, which will make the project a bit more time-consuming for me. But that is all. I could still manage it in a day. Perhaps a week if I take breaks to work on other projects. You said this was not an urgent matter to you, yes?”

‘We did. Anything else you can tell us about the Gate?’

Abbas’ brow twitched as he eyed Garovel. “You also said this was a long-held project for you. Have you never had anyone else examine this monument?”

Garovel shook his skull. ‘Not this one specifically, no. But others, sure. Many, many years ago.’

Page 3719

‘Hector, I’m serious,’ said Garovel. ‘Increasingly, I’m beginning to see the danger we pose to each other. We’re even more alike than I first realized. We both have a very high tolerance for risk. More than that, I think we both find enjoyment in it, too. Like it’s slowly becoming our hobby to risk our lives while flirting with the unknown.’

The reaper’s heavier tone dampened Hector’s spirits a bit, but perhaps that was a good thing. Rationally, he still knew that Garovel was right. And he was being reminded of his meditations again. Of his possible encounter with the Void.

This wasn’t the same as that. The danger didn’t feel nearly so immediate or threatening.

But it wasn’t entirely dissimilar, either.

A background thought process took up the question. Where had these urges come from? Was it from a place of confidence? That seemed wrong, since confidence had always felt like such a foreign concept to him, but... maybe...

He did have a sense that he could control the Living Core. Or at least, keep it in check. And he didn’t feel threatened by Rathomre’s Gate, either. They hardly seemed comparable to the danger posed by something like the Void itself.

Perhaps, then... yes. He did have confidence in himself. That he could handle whatever crazy shit they might stumble into here.

Wow. That really was it, wasn’t it?

Because he didn’t feel like he was actually putting Garovel in danger here.

But he was, wasn’t he? He was playing with things beyond his comprehension.

And not just that, either. Abbas and Worwal were both here, too. Messing with the Gate in their presence could potentially put them at risk also. Strong as they were, they still deserved consideration for their safety, didn’t they?

Not to mention Warrenhold.

He couldn’t afford to let himself get put into another coma. Warrenhold couldn’t afford it. Not until the Rainlords got back, at the very least.

He was supposed to be a lord. He was supposed to have a sense of responsibility. Not just indulge in whatever sounded fun.

Agh. He could already feel various counterarguments rising to his defense. It wasn’t just about fun, surely. These were calculated risks. Necessary ones, even. They needed to obtain more power. To protect Warrenhold. To protect Atreya. From the likes of Abolish. And more, perhaps.

The path forward was not a gentle one. Not a safe or easy one.

But those were just excuses, weren’t they? Even if there might’ve been some truth to them, it didn’t change the fact that he’d been getting carried away.

Page 3718

Smiling to himself, Hector finally did as Garovel initially requested and materialized the dark suit. He stepped a bit closer to Abbas, who had his eyes closed and seemed to be off in his own world.

It wasn’t so long ago that Hector would’ve had no idea what the man was doing, right now. But thanks to the Candle’s memories--and from his own personal experiences, of course--he knew that Abbas was examining the structure of its soul power and/or ardor. And that required intense concentration.

So intense, in fact, that Hector didn’t even want to say anything aloud, in the off chance that it might distract the Lord Saqqaf. It probably wouldn’t, given how well-practiced the man no doubt was at this type of thing, but it still would’ve been impolite.

It was tempting, though. Worwal was floating right there next to the man, observing silently. Hector might’ve liked to ask the reaper for his opinion on the Gate, but he supposed that could be saved for later.

As he kept moving slowly closer, however, a different idea entered into his mind.

He pulled the Living Core out of his armor and eyed it for a moment. Then Rathmore’s Gate. Then the Core again.

Worwal was staring at him now, Hector noticed. The reaper didn’t say anything, though.

Hmm.

‘Hector,’ came Garovel’s private voice again, embedded with a familiarly apprehensive tone. ‘You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?’

‘Depends. What do you think I’m thinking?’

‘I think you’re thinking that using the Living Core to interface with Rathmore’s Gate wouldn’t be an incredibly stupid thing to do.’

‘Hah. Well, you’re wrong, because I definitely know that it would be.’

‘Ah. And you’re thinking about doing it, anyway.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Hector. Haven’t we fulfilled our stupid quota for the day? Trying to interface with the Candle when we had so little information was bad enough, no?’

‘I mean... yeah. You’re right. Obviously.’

A beat passed.

‘But what if we just--?’

‘Hector, stop. Don’t say any more.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’ll say yes! And I don’t want to do that, right now!’

Hector breathed a laugh, trying to keep it quiet.

‘Remember that whole speech that you just gave to Abbas about taking a step back and realizing that you’re actually a big dumbass? I think you should take your own advice. And so should I, frankly.’

‘Aw, c’mon...’

Page 3717

‘Garovel, I just feel like it’s not that important. The armor’s not hard to materialize, so if I don’t think a name fits, then I’ll just go without it.’

‘Yeah, that’s fine for you, but what about me? I wanna call it something cool.’

‘Wow,’ said Hector. ‘Which one of us was three thousand years old again?’

‘I’ll thank you to take your ageism and leave it out of this conversation.’

‘Ageism, huh? You’ve called me young and stupid before. Like a lot.’

‘I said THIS conversation. We can both go back to being ageist in the next one.’

That made Hector chuckle.

A brief silence arrived as they both just continued to watch Abbas from this short distance away.

‘But c’mon. Name. While we’ve got time. Let’s figure this out.’

‘You’re really not gonna let this go, huh?’

‘Maybe if you can distract me with something sufficiently interesting. Can you?’

‘Nothing’s coming to mind.’

‘Name, then. I threw a bunch at you. It’s your turn to suggest one.’

‘Well, uh... hmm. I guess... I kinda feel like a good name would pay homage to the shield that it used to be. So maybe Amir?’

‘Amir, huh? Just Amir?’

‘Yeah, why not? Short and simple.’

‘You know Amir is an actual Valgan name, right? For a person? And a fairly common one, too. It’d be like naming your armor Fred.’

Admittedly, Hector hadn’t thought of it that way. He bobbed his head again and rubbed his chin as he gave it more serious consideration.

‘You are NOT naming your armor Fred, right now.’

‘I mean... I could...’

‘Hector.’

‘What?’

‘That’s dumb.’

‘Why? I can name it what I want, can’t I? No one else will ever even hear it, except us. Probably.’

‘What if you become good friends with a guy named Fred at some point, huh? Or Amir, for that matter? It’ll be needlessly confusing.’

‘Hmm. That’s a good point. So I should just always be rude to any Freds or Amirs, then...’

It was the reaper’s turn to laugh. ‘If you want the name to have some sort of sentimental meaning, then perhaps you should ask Abbas or Haqq about why they named it Amir. Just in case there’s some context we’re missing.’

‘Good idea. Plus, that’ll let me put off making this decision for a little longer, too.’

‘You’re really obnoxious sometimes, you know that?’

‘Whoa. That’s pretty mean, Garovel.’

‘If you don’t decide soon, I’m just gonna start calling it the Darksteel Armor on my own, because fuck you.’

Page 3716

How many times did he have to do something incredibly stupid before he finally started remembering that he should leave his phone behind? He felt especially dumb here, knowing that they were already planning to return to the Forge, where he could have safely left it.

He could already picture the judgmental look on Ms. Rogers’ face when he told her that he needed another replacement.

Ah well. Problems for later.

As Hector moved toward the Gate, Garovel decided to speak up privately from inside Hector’s armor.

‘Hey, make the Darksteel Armor before you get any closer. I find it much cozier to hide in.’

‘...What did you just call it?’

‘The Darksteel Armor. It still needs a name, right? And that one seems pretty much perfect to me.’

Hmm. Well, the reaper did have a point. Hector had been meaning to give it a name for a while now, if only to make it even easier to materialize. Zeff and Asad had both mentioned that naming techniques was good for that purpose, but Hector hadn’t fallen in love with any of the things he’d come up with so far. Plus, it hadn’t exactly been a priority. The dark armor was already pretty easy to materialize, he felt.

‘I don’t know,’ said Hector. ‘Naming it after myself just feels kinda... douchey. Y’know?’

The reaper gave an echoing chortle. ‘But it’s so fitting, though! It’s both dark and steel! Ish!’

‘Ish? Steel-ish? I feel like if you have to add an -ish, then it might not actually be that fitting, Garovel.’

‘Agh, fine. Name it something else, then. Anything. I just want to call it something other than ‘the dark suit.’ That sounds way too generic and vague.’

‘Uh... hmm...’

‘How about the Shadowsteel Armor?’

‘I... actually don’t hate that.’

‘Yeah? It’s settled, then!’

‘Hold on, I didn’t say yes. Just that I kinda liked it.’

‘What do you mean? That’s the same thing, Hector. Those are equivalent statements.’

‘Nuh-uh. Saying that I like it just means that I think you’re... er... heading in the right direction, I guess.’

The reaper sighed. ‘Alright. Not Shadowsteel. Just the Shadow Armor, then?’

Hector bobbed his head a little to both sides, then shook it. ‘Nah, I don’t like that one as much. Sounds kinda... I don’t know...’

‘Then how about the Nightsteel Armor? You like the steel part of the name, right?’

‘I... kinda don’t, actually.’

‘Huh? You don’t? But you just--what? Why not?’

‘I dunno.’

‘Just the Night Armor, then?’

‘...Eh.’

‘Hector. Quit being a picky bitch.’

‘...No.’

‘Oh, my god.’

Page 3715

He wanted to see how his normal iron armor truly compared to the dark suit in this particular scenario. It seemed to him that it wouldn’t make much difference at all, since the aforementioned g-forces that his body was being subjected to would be the same.

But again, he didn’t know much about g-forces to begin with. So maybe it would have made a difference? Or maybe the suit had some other component to its protective capabilities that he did not yet fully understand?

It did give him a strange sort of feeling in that regard. An extra layer of comfort--in his mind, at least. But that very well could have just been his own messed up head playing tricks on him. In fact, that was quite probably the case, Hector thought. Even his iron armor often made him feel more comfortable than normal clothes did.

There was just something so calming about wearing armor. He didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe there simply wasn’t a way to.

Regardless, the iron suit worked about as well he’d expected it to. Which was to say: not very.

It didn’t take them very long to reach the Carthrace Nature Reserve, wherein stood Rathmore’s Gate, but by the end of the trip, Hector felt like his whole body had turned to jelly. It didn’t hurt, thanks to Garovel numbing the pain for him, but he’d experienced this type of wobbly sensation many times before, and it always meant that he had a lot of broken bones. Hell, maybe all of them.

That seemed rather unlikely, though, knowing what he now did about how many bones there were in just the hands and feet.

Eh, he was letting these spare thought processes go off in weird directions. Time to focus, he decided.

After being gently set on the ground by Abbas, Hector immediately did his best impression of an unfolded pile of laundry, crumpling into an iron heap. His foremost thought process was disoriented beyond all recognition, but thanks to the others, he was at least able to observe as Abbas moved toward the Gate on his own.

The man seemed to be taking his time in his approach, walking slowly around it before finally getting close enough to touch it. By the time he actually made physical contact, Hector had regenerated enough to walk again.

He double-checked everything he was carrying. Shard. Scarf. Core. Phone. Oh, that was broken. Of course it was. Dammit.

Page 3714 -- CCCV.

When he was ready, Abbas stomped back outside, grabbed the young Lord Darksteel with one hand, pulled him under his arm, and used his strengthened legs in order to gain distance from the grassy earth before rocketing away at a medium burn. No sense in following Hector’s example and leaving another fire behind for Raheem or someone else to put out.

Once he had sufficient altitude, he cranked up the burn to eighty percent. He was tempted to go for the full hundred, of course, but after the recent tweaks he’d made to the fusion-propulsion system, he expected the jets to be slightly more powerful than before. And as he had yet to actually test them, it would have been rather irresponsible to do so now, when he had a passenger with him.

...But on the other hand, he was quite certain that the new calculations were correct, and even if they weren’t, the built-in fail-safes meant there was zero risk of accidentally instigating antimatter reactions.

Well.

Mathematically zero.

Yeah. He should just go for it. Hector was undead, and time was wasting, after all.


Chapter Three Hundred Five: ‘Thy distant coruscations...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)

Well, this wasn’t how he’d been expecting the day to unfold. Being carried like a sack of potatoes through the sky was one thing. Doing it while also breaking the sound barrier was quite another.

Hector didn’t know much about g-forces, but after feeling like he’d been hit by a truck and passing out--or perhaps dying, actually--and then later waking back up again, he resolved to add that to his list of things that he needed to learn more about.

In fact, he’d been meaning to do that ever since his flight with Dimas Sebolt back during the battle at the Lorent-Callum border, when they’d flown to Hahl Saqqaf’s aid. That had been quite the experience, too--and not entirely dissimilar to this current one. It just hadn’t been nearly as intense, though the fight had that followed it more than made up for that discrepancy.

Admittedly, he could have prepared himself a bit better, but Hector wanted to test something of his own during this trip. He figured that they would have to do this twice--to the Gate and then back again--so for the first one, he made the rather haphazard decision to not materialize his newer, more powerful armor.

Next page at noon

Just want a little more time. Thanks, everybody.

EDIT: Okay, I might need another hour or two, but I will post it soon. Promise. I'M NOT MISSING A DAY. I SWEAR. Well, not today, anyway.

Page 3713

Hector was sighing again. Exasperated, no doubt.

Understandable. A part of Abbas sympathized. Related, even. A shadow of a memory tickled the back of his mind. Time spent with his mentors. They’d often behaved unreasonably in his presence. Been too caught up in their work to pay much attention to anything else. Dolf, in particular.

So perhaps that shadow of memory should have given him pause. Made him reevaluate his current actions. Made him hesitant.

But it didn’t. He gave it almost no consideration at all.

Instead, perhaps there was something ever so slightly invigorating about it. A whisper of nostalgia.

A fondness for those eccentric masters of old.

He could feel, in some small way, a kinship with them. Many times over the course of his life, he had struggled hard in his studies and his work just for the mere opportunity to feel that way. To feel a modicum of worthiness when comparing himself against their incredible legacies.

They’d simply been too great. Too brilliant.

But here and now, despite barely even being able to acknowledge it, he did feel it. Perhaps more strongly than ever, in fact.

The feeling that he was ready. Finally. To match them. To make them proud.

By the time he made it to the tree, he was raring to go. He had a preliminary overview of the suit’s working condition already in his head, in accordance with his last memory of its operation. True, that had been a few days ago, but it was still quite clear to him. As long as nothing had changed with it while he’d been unconscious, everything should have been fine.

Overgrown branches were indeed all over the place, but Abbas just pushed through them without hesitation. Was Worwal enhancing his strength? He wasn’t even sure. Didn’t matter. He reached the armor quickly and set about entering it.

In the past, that had been a point of great difficulty. Laborious and time-consuming. But efficiency had become a priority of late, and in just the past few weeks, he had managed to improve his speed putting it on by over fifty percent.

Hector offered to help him with it, but Abbas refused. It would have been a needless distraction and probably made things go slower.

The donning of the helmet was done last. Allowing it to drill through his skull and into his brain was a sometimes-risky endeavor, rendering him briefly unconscious if he messed it up. Thankfully, that hadn’t happened in a while.

Page 3712

“Uh--h-hold on a second there--” tried Hector.

Abbas was already pushing past the flaps into the cool air of the Imara Forest. It smelled rather nice out here, but he paid it no mind at all, instead focusing on where his armor was in relation to their current position. It would have been in the tree with him when--ah.

A worrisome thought. But it should’ve survived whatever mayhem the Core instigated. He turned to his right. The southern horizon. Where the Imara Forest gave way to the grassy landscape of the great tree. Not too far away. He started walking.

New voices arrived in his ear. Familiar ones. His many children and cousins. His beloved Hahl.

He didn’t stop walking.

“I am fine,” he said in Valgan for them. “I will return shortly. Alert me if an attack arrives.”

More voices. Many more. Some raised. But none angry. Just concerned. And none talking to him of imminent danger.

He needed not pay more attention than that. All was well. Or well enough, at least. For now.

He could concentrate on the work to be done. That was good. There was much to do.

Someone was following him. Several people, actually. Worwal was running interference for him, though. Assuaging their worries, no doubt. Helpful.

His mind was on the suit. On its current specs. He’d been tweaking it little by little. The Core had been intended as a bigger step in that effort, but it seemed to have been a failure in that regard. Disappointing, but not outside expectations. The next attempt would be better. After this trip to the Gate. In fact, depending on what he found, things might speed along even faster.

Shouldn’t get his hopes up, though. Too soon to know.

Ah, one of the followers was being persistent. Hector? Of course it was him. He was saying something, too.

Important?

Expressing reservations.

No, then.

Ah, but Abbas realized that he still needed to ask the boy something.

“What are the coordinates of Rathmore’s Gate?” said Abbas.

“Oh, I--uh--coordinates? Er, I don’t--er--”

“Quickly now, Hector. Time is short.”

The boy exhaled. “Agh, I don’t know coordinates. Do I look like a map? Garovel?”

‘Just bring us with you,’ said the reaper. ‘Hector can’t fly as fast as your suit can, so that’ll be fastest.’

“Garovel, please, for the love of--”

“Very well,” said Abbas.

Next page on the 4th

Thanks for reading, everyone. Hope you had a good Halloween. Or failing that, a good day. Or failing, a good couple hours.

Page 3711

‘Go on, then,’ Worwal told him.

“What exactly do you need this Kag for again?” said Abbas. “I don’t recall what you told us before.”

‘That is because they didn’t tell us anything,’ said Worwal, no longer with the echo of privacy. ‘They just asked if we could make one for some monolith back in Atreya.’

Abbas gave the reaper a look.

‘Alright, fine,’ said Garovel. ‘I’ll admit: we were being a little cagey with the details. It’s a personal project that I’ve been working on for a very long time, so I’m a bit reluctant to go into it too much.’ He spared a glance at Hector. ‘But I suppose if the two of you deem it important, we could reveal a few things. Not that there’s that much to be revealed. I’m not trying to hype it up that much.’

‘A long-term project, you say?’ said Worwal. ‘How long, precisely?’

Garovel bobbed his reptilian head a little. ‘Oh, you know... a couple thousand years or so.’

‘And yet you also say you’ve not made much progress on it?’

‘What can I say? I’m easily distracted.’

Worwal snickered.

Well, that was a good sign, at least, Abbas felt. He decided to jump in again before Worwal’s mood had the opportunity worsen. “Tell us about this project then, if you please.”

‘Okay. Uh. I’m guessing you’re familiar with the name Rathmore, yes?’

Abbas’ head reared back. “Certainly.”

‘Well, one of his Tools is in Atreya. Rathmore’s Gate, to be exact. We were investigating it, and we think a Kag might be able to reveal some of its long-held secrets.’

Holy oasis. “A Kag for one of Rathmore’s Tools... If you’d told me that before, I would’ve made it more of a priority.”

‘Well, you had a lot going on. Still do, in fact. As do we. And I consider this more of a side project, at the moment. While I do want your help, I also don’t want to take up too much of your time. I imagine you’ll at least need to make a trip to the Gate itself for this, yes?’

“Atreya is quite close,” said Abbas, already thinking of putting his armor on right away. “I could knock that out in an hour. Or less, perhaps. And the examination wouldn’t take--” Abruptly, Abbas decided to cut himself off and stop wasting time altogether. He started for the exit of the tent. “In fact, I’ll go right now.”

Page 3710

‘You make a fair point,’ said Garovel. ‘Perhaps we should emphasize that Hector and I would much prefer to keep the Core around, as well. No matter how much of a jerk it is, we would take no pleasure in the destruction of such an incredible object. In fact, one of our primary goals for Warrenhold is to use it as a place to preserve knowledge far into the future, and I would say this little guy qualifies.’

Abbas recalled them mentioning the like before. “That is some comfort, then. But generally speaking, I do hope that you and Hector will never grow too eager to deliver death and punishment. It is a timeless problem that those in power must struggle with: that we do not become callous or cruel with the passage of time.”

And Abbas half-expected Hector to return a dismissive look or some word of protest--as youth was often wont to do--but the boy surprised him yet again with his silence, with the seriousness in his expression, and with the slight nod he gave.

A lull in the conversation arrived, but it didn’t take long for Garovel to fill it.

‘Well, I suppose we should let your family in here before they worry themselves into a frenzy,’ said the reaper. ‘But one last thing: have you made any progress on that Kag we asked you about?’

“Ah... um. No.”

‘Oh. Been too busy, huh? That’s a shame. Or is it that you just don’t think you can do it?’

‘What?’ said Worwal.

Uh-oh.

‘It’s okay if you can’t,’ said Garovel. ‘I mean, Kags are pretty rare to begin with, and recreating a specific one doesn’t exactly seem like it would be a cakewalk. I understand if it’s too much for you.’

‘Too much?’ said Worwal, hardly able to conceal the irritation in his tone.

Abbas felt compelled to intervene privately before things got out of hand. ‘Worwal, relax. It is an innocent question.’

The reaper’s next words were also private. ‘A mere Kag? Too much for you? Laughable. Is Garovel stupid? Or just trying to annoy me? Agh, this must be some ploy.’

‘I don’t think he knows you that well yet,’ said Abbas. ‘Calm down before you say something we both regret.’

‘Mrgh.’

Garovel picked up on the abrupt silence. ‘Fellas? Something wrong?’

‘Listen to his smug tone,’ said Worwal, still privately. ‘I hate him.’

Abbas had to consciously avoid rolling his eyes. ‘No, you don’t. Just let me do the talking.’

Page 3709

Hmm. Abbas couldn’t help being a bit surprised at how certain Hector sounded of his convictions here. Young people did not often have such feelings toward such matters, he’d found. It usually took them quite some time to determine their beliefs in one direction or the other.

But for the few young people who did have such feelings, it was usually a red flag. A warning sign. That they were either thoughtless toward the real consequences of their actions, or that they simply had a callous--or even cruel--nature to them, deep down.

Neither of those descriptions seemed to fit Hector here, but it was also still too soon to be sure. They hadn’t actually known this fellow for very long, had they?

There was a third explanation, though. For an attitude like this in a young person. Abbas had seen it a few times.

It could manifest when a young person had been forced to confront the matter by a particularly horrific event. When they’d been given no choice but to reach a strong decision about it.

And right now, observing this young man’s gaze, Abbas was leaning toward that explanation. What exactly had this child been through? Even among Sandlord and Rainlord children--children who tended to mature quite quickly--this was rare to see.

It was one thing to bear witness to some terrible trauma. That was more than bad enough. But it was another thing to be forced into a terrible decision regarding that trauma, too.

If it hadn’t felt wildly inappropriate to do so, Abbas might have inquired further.

Instead, he decided to stay on topic. Hector and Garovel were already being quite generous with how much time they were giving him to think.

“...To be quite blunt,” said Abbas, “I would be upset if you destroyed the Living Core. Even disregarding how much effort I put into its creation, I simply do not see how there would be any need to destroy it. In the worst case, putting it in storage would be the more desirable outcome.”

Hector made no response, but his eyes went to the floor, and he rubbed his chin.

Abbas kept going. “Especially considering the fact that you do not know how the Candle might react to its destruction. If it feels any sort of attachment to the Core, then you would be jeopardizing our relationship with it, too.”

Page 3708

Perhaps the reaper had a point.

But oh well. In this moment, Abbas Saqqaf could not bring himself to care about appearances. It seemed quite clear to him now that the young Hector Goffe of Atreya was going to be an important ally for the foreseeable future. Trying to present a false image to him, therefore, would not be good in the long run, even if it made things less bumpy in the here and now.

The glowing orb in Hector’s grasp drew the young man’s glance, along with a raised eyebrow.

Abbas wondered what that might be about, but when Hector elected not to say anything, the Lord Saqqaf decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “In any case, I will take what you have told me into serious consideration. Worwal may pretend to know everything, but I will not.”

‘Hey.’

“It may well be true that we should reevaluate our approach to using the Forge,” said Abbas. “And your perspective on the Void is... intriguing to me. I shall have to give that more thought. But in the meantime, I must get back to work. The Core is but the first step in a larger project. More of a proof of concept than a finished product.”

“Ooh, yikes,” said Hector. “It doesn’t like hearing that.”

Abbas returned a flat smile. “Heh. Perhaps I shouldn’t even bother examining that one and instead merely leave it in your care. How would you feel about keeping it?”

“Uh. I’m not sure, but I kinda feel like I have no choice. How would you feel if I decided to destroy it?”

Abbas blinked. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s insanely dangerous.”

Abbas kept blinking. “And you just told me that it doesn’t like what I was saying. I can’t imagine it was too pleased to hear those words from you.”

“Oh, it already knows how I feel about it. We had a long chat before you woke back up. If it can’t learn right from wrong, at least in the most basic sense, then I don’t really care how much power it has to offer us. It’s too dangerous to keep around.”

“...You are treading into the territory of complex ethical questions, Hector. That may not be a human being in your hand there, but it is still a sentient, thinking entity that you are talking about killing.”

Hector’s gaze was steady. “I know. But it tried to murder you and Worwal. And possibly also Garovel.”

‘Yup,’ said Garovel. ‘Hates my guts, too, apparently.’

Page 3707

‘Only when he gets particularly excited about his work,’ said Worwal. ‘So yes, all the time.’

‘Sounds like a real hassle,’ said Garovel. ‘You have my sympathies.’

‘Heh, thank you. And knowing what I do of your servant, you also have mine, a’hkin.’

‘Oh, wow. I haven’t been called that in millennia. I’m not sure it suits me, but I appreciate the gesture, at least.’

“Which questions did I miss?” asked Abbas.

“Uh... well, to put ‘em all together, I guess I was just wondering how the personality for the Living Core could have come from the Candle when... I mean, the Core literally told me that it put you into that coma. So the personality must’ve been there before we connected it to the Candle, because that happened after you and Worwal were already passed out.”

“Ah, yes. An understandable point of confusion. There are two possible explanations for that. Both of which harbor some rather unfortunate implications, I’m afraid. The first is, in my estimation, far more likely. And that would be that the Core’s personality did indeed already exist within the Candle. So it would also remember doing that to us.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t that mean that the Candle itself hates you, too?”

“Not necessarily.” Abbas allowed a beat to pass. “But yes, probably.”

“Aw, shit. And the second explanation?”

“Temporal interference,” said Abbas.

“Say what?”

“When dealing with Fusion Forges--or dense pockets of ardor in general--time itself can become something of a blurry concept. For example, the precise moment that something is created can turn into more of a... ‘range’ of creation, rather than a singular instant.”

“What the heck? Why would that happen?”

“Oh, any number of reasons, depending on the exact nature of the object in question. But from what I have read, it can be especially likely to occur when the object being created is something particularly influential over ardor itself. It is an interesting phenomenon. I remember reading one theory that said it was a consequence of an ardor feedback loop.” Abbas tilted his head as he recalled the essay more fully. “In fact, it said that such a feedback loop, if unable to rectify itself, could result in a spatial distortion akin to a... black hole. Hmm...”

Hector just stared at him.

Worwal’s next words were wrapped in the echo of privacy. ‘You do realize that we’re trying NOT to come off as unhinged madmen in front of our gracious host, right?’