“You conflate the two when you should not,” said Germal. “Chaos may be an aspect of the Void, but that does not mean they have the same desires. Does your stomach always want what you do?”
“I mean, usually. I’ve never been big on dieting.”
“Even so, that is the essence of it. The Void believes that it knows best. It often tries, foolishly, to ignore its many competing instincts.”
“Interesting. So what does that make you, then? A stomach virus?”
Germal laughed outright. “From your perspective, perhaps so! But you’ll have to forgive me if I do not measure my self-worth by the judgments of a gleeful, mass murdering psychopath.”
“Mmhmm. You say that, but if you’re really a Primordial, then the odds are quite good that you’ve dabbled in a bit of mass murder and/or psychopathy yourself.”
“A fair statement. Incorrect, but fair.”
“Oh? Which Primordial do you claim to be, then?”
“Ah-ah. It is still my turn. And you have yet to answer my question. The Vessel. Where is it located?”
“Fine, fine. I have it, actually. Locked up tight in one of my warehouses.”
“Which warehouse?”
“Lemme go, and I’ll take you there!”
“How kind of you to offer. But I shall make do with just the location, if you please.”
“Hmph. It’s in Luugh. Outside a little town called Ragayo. That specific enough for you?”
“No. What is the exact address?”
Tch. “Doesn’t have one. No road nearby. Won’t show up on a map, either.”
“Landmarks?”
“It’s surrounded by trees. Squirreled away, out of sight. I like my hidden things to remain hidden, y’know?”
“Security?”
“None at all.”
“You’re lying. I can tell. How much security is there?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing a tough guy like you can’t handle.”
“Specifics, Demon. Answering to my satisfaction was your rule, remember?”
“Ugh, so dull! Can’t you just appreciate a good surprise, every now and then?”
“No.”
“Alright, alright. Lemme think. Umm. There were... twelve automatic turrets along the perimeter. Programmed to stun, not kill. Thirty-seven mines dotted the outer walls. Oh, and a small platoon of Roberts.”
“Roberts?”
“My tin soldiers. That’s what I call ‘em.”
“...How small is this platoon, precisely?”
“Oh, I, mm... sixty-eight.”
“Sixty-eight of those monstrosities?”
Morgunov could not help feeling immensely pleased by the bastard’s worried tone. “You and your boys made short work of them back at my workshop. And without me there to feed them orders, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble.” Assuming Germal actually brought all his buddies along to help, which seemed unlikely.
Eheh.
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.
Saturday, April 27, 2024
Friday, April 26, 2024
Page 3574
“The Vessel of Trenoyis,” said Germal. “Where is it?”
“Trenoyis,” echoed Morguonv. “Hmm. Have you checked Trenoy? I hear they named that place after him.”
“Cute. You know this does not work if you refuse to answer, yes? You must answer to my satisfaction. You know the Vessel’s whereabouts, don’t you?”
“Do I? Why don’t you just read my mind and see for yourself?”
“You know why.”
“Oh, come now. Are you tellin’ me that my measly little psychic defenses are able to thwart the efforts of a big, bad Primordial like yourself? Surely not.”
“Measly, are they? You’ve created an entire labyrinth full of coma-inducing booby traps.”
“What can I say? I don’t like people rooting around in there without my permission.”
“What if I promise to be gentle?”
“Oh, sure, but you have to let me run some experiments on you, first. I promise that I’ll be equally gentle.”
“Kehe. Indeed. We’ve arrived at yet another impasse, it would seem.”
“Shocker, eh? And hey, let’s not pretend like you psychics don’t deserve a bit of backlash for all the stuff you’ve gotten up to over the years. Rifling through other people’s memories--is there any greater invasion of privacy than that? I think not. And that’s just one of the messed up things you’ve been doing!”
“The pot is truly screaming at the kettle, now.”
“Eheh. I never said I don’t have some backlash coming, too.”
“Oh? Are you perhaps acknowledging that ambush is deserved?”
“In general sense? Yeah, maybe. But I don’t recall ever wronging you specifically.”
“No? You have been hunting me for decades.”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that? I just wanted to have a nice chat. You’re the one who made it weird.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Now answer my question. Where is the Vessel?”
“What’s your interest in it?”
“Can you not guess, based on everything else I’ve already told you?”
“Maybe I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Are you a horse god, Germy? I bet you are, aren’t you? I feel like that’d suit you.”
“The Vessel shall help me free Trenoyis.”
“You don’t say? Are you sure you want to do that? What would the Void think?”
A brief silence arrived. “Kehehe. Not much of anything, I suspect. Your faith in that being is misplaced, I’m afraid.”
Hmm. Morgunov wanted to scratch his chin. “So despite being of Chaos, you’re going against the Void’s will? Hmm. Now that just don’t seem right.”
“Trenoyis,” echoed Morguonv. “Hmm. Have you checked Trenoy? I hear they named that place after him.”
“Cute. You know this does not work if you refuse to answer, yes? You must answer to my satisfaction. You know the Vessel’s whereabouts, don’t you?”
“Do I? Why don’t you just read my mind and see for yourself?”
“You know why.”
“Oh, come now. Are you tellin’ me that my measly little psychic defenses are able to thwart the efforts of a big, bad Primordial like yourself? Surely not.”
“Measly, are they? You’ve created an entire labyrinth full of coma-inducing booby traps.”
“What can I say? I don’t like people rooting around in there without my permission.”
“What if I promise to be gentle?”
“Oh, sure, but you have to let me run some experiments on you, first. I promise that I’ll be equally gentle.”
“Kehe. Indeed. We’ve arrived at yet another impasse, it would seem.”
“Shocker, eh? And hey, let’s not pretend like you psychics don’t deserve a bit of backlash for all the stuff you’ve gotten up to over the years. Rifling through other people’s memories--is there any greater invasion of privacy than that? I think not. And that’s just one of the messed up things you’ve been doing!”
“The pot is truly screaming at the kettle, now.”
“Eheh. I never said I don’t have some backlash coming, too.”
“Oh? Are you perhaps acknowledging that ambush is deserved?”
“In general sense? Yeah, maybe. But I don’t recall ever wronging you specifically.”
“No? You have been hunting me for decades.”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that? I just wanted to have a nice chat. You’re the one who made it weird.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Now answer my question. Where is the Vessel?”
“What’s your interest in it?”
“Can you not guess, based on everything else I’ve already told you?”
“Maybe I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Are you a horse god, Germy? I bet you are, aren’t you? I feel like that’d suit you.”
“The Vessel shall help me free Trenoyis.”
“You don’t say? Are you sure you want to do that? What would the Void think?”
A brief silence arrived. “Kehehe. Not much of anything, I suspect. Your faith in that being is misplaced, I’m afraid.”
Hmm. Morgunov wanted to scratch his chin. “So despite being of Chaos, you’re going against the Void’s will? Hmm. Now that just don’t seem right.”
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Page 3573
Well.
On second thought, he knew exactly how someone could believe that. He was suddenly reminded of his youth--of that special breed of proud, malicious ignorance that seemed to possess everyone around him in those days.
‘Anti-knowledge,’ he’d called it. Not just the desire to remain ignorant. No. It went a step further and sought to destroy the knowledge of others, too. To humiliate them for even having the gall to pursue said knowledge in the first place.
There was nothing in this universe that Morgunov hated more than that.
And his confusion, his disbelieve--they melted gradually away.
Replaced in their entirety with rage. The kind he hadn’t felt in countless years. The kind that threatened to overtake every cogent thought in his mind.
It was all he could do to contain himself. If the two of them were not already trapped, he would have killed Germal instantly. No games. No toying with his food. No experimenting with some untested invention. No saving his real trump cards for later. Not even any capturing for future study.
This creature in here with him--whatever it was--it needed to die.
“...You’ve fallen quiet,” said Germal.
Morgunov said nothing.
“Kehe. It seems I’ve accomplished the impossible.”
Morgunov knew he needed to steady himself. He’d allowed his emotions to rise too much.
He knew that.
And yet he didn’t entirely care. The thought occurred to him that, yes, if Germal could really read minds, then the bastard could be reading this, right now. That he--no, it--could’ve even known ahead of time exactly what to say in order to provoke this very reaction.
That it could’ve all been a lie, said for no other reason than to get under his skin.
If so, then Morgunov could admit: it had worked. And this bastard was going to regret it with every fiber of its being.
But for some reason, Morgunov felt like that wasn’t the case, either. That really was how Germal viewed the world, wasn’t it? Perhaps that was even how all the Primordials viewed it.
Which would certainly explain why the Void decided to rip them from this plane of existence.
Because they deserved it. And worse.
“Is it my turn, now?” said Germal. “Have I answered to your satisfaction?”
Still, Morgunov almost remained silent. But after a moment, he found enough poise to say, “Yes. Go ahead.”
On second thought, he knew exactly how someone could believe that. He was suddenly reminded of his youth--of that special breed of proud, malicious ignorance that seemed to possess everyone around him in those days.
‘Anti-knowledge,’ he’d called it. Not just the desire to remain ignorant. No. It went a step further and sought to destroy the knowledge of others, too. To humiliate them for even having the gall to pursue said knowledge in the first place.
There was nothing in this universe that Morgunov hated more than that.
And his confusion, his disbelieve--they melted gradually away.
Replaced in their entirety with rage. The kind he hadn’t felt in countless years. The kind that threatened to overtake every cogent thought in his mind.
It was all he could do to contain himself. If the two of them were not already trapped, he would have killed Germal instantly. No games. No toying with his food. No experimenting with some untested invention. No saving his real trump cards for later. Not even any capturing for future study.
This creature in here with him--whatever it was--it needed to die.
“...You’ve fallen quiet,” said Germal.
Morgunov said nothing.
“Kehe. It seems I’ve accomplished the impossible.”
Morgunov knew he needed to steady himself. He’d allowed his emotions to rise too much.
He knew that.
And yet he didn’t entirely care. The thought occurred to him that, yes, if Germal could really read minds, then the bastard could be reading this, right now. That he--no, it--could’ve even known ahead of time exactly what to say in order to provoke this very reaction.
That it could’ve all been a lie, said for no other reason than to get under his skin.
If so, then Morgunov could admit: it had worked. And this bastard was going to regret it with every fiber of its being.
But for some reason, Morgunov felt like that wasn’t the case, either. That really was how Germal viewed the world, wasn’t it? Perhaps that was even how all the Primordials viewed it.
Which would certainly explain why the Void decided to rip them from this plane of existence.
Because they deserved it. And worse.
“Is it my turn, now?” said Germal. “Have I answered to your satisfaction?”
Still, Morgunov almost remained silent. But after a moment, he found enough poise to say, “Yes. Go ahead.”
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
Page 3572
“There is no morality in this world, save that which we above decide,” said Germal. “And you, cedo, are no ally of Chaos. You are, in fact, the furthest thing from it.”
Morgunov paused. Hmm. There was a lot to unpack there. “What makes you say that? I’ve been spreading chaos all over the world my whole dang life! Go on, ask anyone!”
“Ah, but now it is you who is using misleading language. You spread ‘chaos,’ yes. But not ‘Chaos.’ In fact, for all your knowledge and experience, I suspect you hardly know what true Chaos is.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy with the insults there. You’re not seriously trying to tell me that I’ve secretly, unwittingly been an agent of Order this entire time. Because frankly, that has to be the silliest darn thing I’ve ever done heard!”
“You truly do not understand? How short-sighted. Yes, you may not be of the Furies, but you incite them to move. You spur them on. Inspire them. And frequently, you do much more than that, don’t you? You often allow them to live when you could easily end them. You even feel remorse on the rare occasions when you put one down. And of course, some, you teach directly as your students. Help them refine and grow themselves.”
Morgunov had a lot to say, but he remained silent, because it seemed like this guy wasn’t done yet, and he wanted to hear the rest.
“The mere act of inventing--don’t you see? That, too, is making Order from Chaos. Taking the natural, beautiful Chaos of the world and twisting it into inert knots. That is the ultimate goal of all your efforts, whether you realize it or not. Whatever amount of Chaos you might bring--it is incidental and fleeting. Soon chased away by Order. You claim to be a gardener, as we are, yet you do nothing but plant and grow weeds.”
Morgunov could stay quiet no longer. “Excuse me? Weeds? You think inventors, the brilliant and beautiful minds of the world, are weeds? The people who spend their lives advancing technology, pushing the boundaries of human knowledge and potential, usually at great personal risk to themselves--those are the ugly things you want to uproot?”
“Ah. Perhaps you do understand.”
And for the first time in many, many years, Morgunov was struck dumb. With utter incredulity.
How could anyone believe something so obviously moronic?
Morgunov paused. Hmm. There was a lot to unpack there. “What makes you say that? I’ve been spreading chaos all over the world my whole dang life! Go on, ask anyone!”
“Ah, but now it is you who is using misleading language. You spread ‘chaos,’ yes. But not ‘Chaos.’ In fact, for all your knowledge and experience, I suspect you hardly know what true Chaos is.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy with the insults there. You’re not seriously trying to tell me that I’ve secretly, unwittingly been an agent of Order this entire time. Because frankly, that has to be the silliest darn thing I’ve ever done heard!”
“You truly do not understand? How short-sighted. Yes, you may not be of the Furies, but you incite them to move. You spur them on. Inspire them. And frequently, you do much more than that, don’t you? You often allow them to live when you could easily end them. You even feel remorse on the rare occasions when you put one down. And of course, some, you teach directly as your students. Help them refine and grow themselves.”
Morgunov had a lot to say, but he remained silent, because it seemed like this guy wasn’t done yet, and he wanted to hear the rest.
“The mere act of inventing--don’t you see? That, too, is making Order from Chaos. Taking the natural, beautiful Chaos of the world and twisting it into inert knots. That is the ultimate goal of all your efforts, whether you realize it or not. Whatever amount of Chaos you might bring--it is incidental and fleeting. Soon chased away by Order. You claim to be a gardener, as we are, yet you do nothing but plant and grow weeds.”
Morgunov could stay quiet no longer. “Excuse me? Weeds? You think inventors, the brilliant and beautiful minds of the world, are weeds? The people who spend their lives advancing technology, pushing the boundaries of human knowledge and potential, usually at great personal risk to themselves--those are the ugly things you want to uproot?”
“Ah. Perhaps you do understand.”
And for the first time in many, many years, Morgunov was struck dumb. With utter incredulity.
How could anyone believe something so obviously moronic?
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
Page 3571
Germal chortled again. “Ah, but in that case, it should honestly be I who is thanking you. Without your intervention at that time, I am not sure that I could have returned to this realm.”
“Oh yeah? Well, you’re welcome, then. But you sure have a funny way of demonstrating your appreciation! Tryin’ to kill me ‘n all!”
“Kehe. Don’t act like you were not already planning to come after me again.”
“That’s hardly fair! Just because I’m planning something doesn’t mean I’ll follow through with it! Do you know how many things I have left on my to-do list?”
“A real shame, that. Anyway, have I answered to your satisfaction? I wish to take my turn, now.”
“Hmm! Almost! Just one little thing I want clarification on!”
“Yes?”
“If you’re all beings of Chaos, then what’s your beef with me, huh? I’m a reasonable fellow. In fact, I would’ve expected us to be on the same side! I happen to love Chaos! Everyone knows us Abolishers are big fans of the Void, of which Chaos is merely one aspect!”
“Calling yourself reasonable has to be a bigger lie than anything than I have ever uttered.”
“Now you’re just being hurtful. Sure, my enthusiasm can get away from me, on occasion. But I genuinely think that you and I could have arrived at some quite amicable terms, many years ago, if you’d just tried to reach out. Explained your position a bit. Heck, maybe we still could! Wouldn’t that be neat?!”
“You would have almost certainly tried to capture me.”
“Well, yeah, of course I would have! But I’m tellin’ you: we would have eventually arrived at a place of friendship!”
Germal fell briefly quiet again. “Keheheh...”
“Somethin’ funny?”
“You do bring something out of me, Demon. I’ll grant you that.”
“Oh? Happy to hear it!”
“Unfortunately, that was not a compliment.”
“Aww.”
“I am tempted to play your game here. To indulge your offer of friendship, even. And continue this exchange elsewhere. But no. You are too dangerous to leave alive.”
“Mm. Heard that before. Real shame, coming from you. Was hoping you’d surprise me. Spice things up, somehow. But I guess in the end, you’re just another of those morality-obsessed do-gooders, eh? Despite so much evidence to the contrary? Talk about a letdown!”
“A morality-obsessed do-gooder? Now that is an interesting interpretation. Kehe. I fear you are still quite confused, my ‘demonic’ friend.”
“Am I? How so?”
“Oh yeah? Well, you’re welcome, then. But you sure have a funny way of demonstrating your appreciation! Tryin’ to kill me ‘n all!”
“Kehe. Don’t act like you were not already planning to come after me again.”
“That’s hardly fair! Just because I’m planning something doesn’t mean I’ll follow through with it! Do you know how many things I have left on my to-do list?”
“A real shame, that. Anyway, have I answered to your satisfaction? I wish to take my turn, now.”
“Hmm! Almost! Just one little thing I want clarification on!”
“Yes?”
“If you’re all beings of Chaos, then what’s your beef with me, huh? I’m a reasonable fellow. In fact, I would’ve expected us to be on the same side! I happen to love Chaos! Everyone knows us Abolishers are big fans of the Void, of which Chaos is merely one aspect!”
“Calling yourself reasonable has to be a bigger lie than anything than I have ever uttered.”
“Now you’re just being hurtful. Sure, my enthusiasm can get away from me, on occasion. But I genuinely think that you and I could have arrived at some quite amicable terms, many years ago, if you’d just tried to reach out. Explained your position a bit. Heck, maybe we still could! Wouldn’t that be neat?!”
“You would have almost certainly tried to capture me.”
“Well, yeah, of course I would have! But I’m tellin’ you: we would have eventually arrived at a place of friendship!”
Germal fell briefly quiet again. “Keheheh...”
“Somethin’ funny?”
“You do bring something out of me, Demon. I’ll grant you that.”
“Oh? Happy to hear it!”
“Unfortunately, that was not a compliment.”
“Aww.”
“I am tempted to play your game here. To indulge your offer of friendship, even. And continue this exchange elsewhere. But no. You are too dangerous to leave alive.”
“Mm. Heard that before. Real shame, coming from you. Was hoping you’d surprise me. Spice things up, somehow. But I guess in the end, you’re just another of those morality-obsessed do-gooders, eh? Despite so much evidence to the contrary? Talk about a letdown!”
“A morality-obsessed do-gooder? Now that is an interesting interpretation. Kehe. I fear you are still quite confused, my ‘demonic’ friend.”
“Am I? How so?”
Monday, April 22, 2024
Page 3570
“You are setting quite the precedent here,” said Germal. “I will be quite demanding with my question, now.”
“Ha! You really don’t know me very well at all, do you?! How delightfully surprising! Unlike you, Germy, I do not obsess over keeping all my knowledge to myself. In fact, giving lectures about the secrets of the world is something I quite enjoy!”
“You certainly do love to listen to yourself talk.”
“I won’t deny it! If only there were more who were bold enough to listen! Now tell me. How do you define yourself?”
Germal took a minute to answer. “...Truthfully, Demon? I define myself as one who would return this world to order. The way it was, long ago.”
“Order, you say? Interesting! Now do you mean ‘order?’ Or do you mean ‘Order?’”
“I am confused. What is the distinction you are referring to?”
A lie, for certain. Perhaps the greatest of all the lies the Liar had yet told.
Which was no surprise, of course, but this time was special. This time, Morgunov found it intensely annoying. “Confused, you say? Why should you be confused? Ah! Perhaps because you do not wish to acknowledge your great nemesis, hmm? To hear it named truly?”
Germal fell quiet at that.
Morgunov decided to let the silence linger for a bit. In truth, he’d been holding a few things back this whole time. A few memories. Locked away for safekeeping, just in case Germal started getting uppity with his mind reading again.
But those memories were now beginning to unlock themselves. As per their locking conditions, no doubt. A timed trigger? Hmm, unlikely, considering time seemed to have largely stopped in this strange space.
Ah. An emotional trigger, then. Related to his long-held ruminations on Order and Chaos.
Yes.
“You Primordials are beings of Chaos, are you not? Your great enemy, therefore, must be Order. So it makes no sense that you would seek to ‘put the world to Order.’ Unless, of course, you were using deliberately misleading language, and your idea of ‘order’ means something totally different, eh? Perhaps even the exact opposite thing! Eheh! But I’m sure a stand-up Gentleman like you would never do something like that!”
“...You remember more of Bellvine than you have let on.”
“Mm! Perhaps I do! But y’know, I feel talking to you is also helping me to remember even more things, too! So thanks for that. Maybe you’re not such a bad guy, after all.”
“Ha! You really don’t know me very well at all, do you?! How delightfully surprising! Unlike you, Germy, I do not obsess over keeping all my knowledge to myself. In fact, giving lectures about the secrets of the world is something I quite enjoy!”
“You certainly do love to listen to yourself talk.”
“I won’t deny it! If only there were more who were bold enough to listen! Now tell me. How do you define yourself?”
Germal took a minute to answer. “...Truthfully, Demon? I define myself as one who would return this world to order. The way it was, long ago.”
“Order, you say? Interesting! Now do you mean ‘order?’ Or do you mean ‘Order?’”
“I am confused. What is the distinction you are referring to?”
A lie, for certain. Perhaps the greatest of all the lies the Liar had yet told.
Which was no surprise, of course, but this time was special. This time, Morgunov found it intensely annoying. “Confused, you say? Why should you be confused? Ah! Perhaps because you do not wish to acknowledge your great nemesis, hmm? To hear it named truly?”
Germal fell quiet at that.
Morgunov decided to let the silence linger for a bit. In truth, he’d been holding a few things back this whole time. A few memories. Locked away for safekeeping, just in case Germal started getting uppity with his mind reading again.
But those memories were now beginning to unlock themselves. As per their locking conditions, no doubt. A timed trigger? Hmm, unlikely, considering time seemed to have largely stopped in this strange space.
Ah. An emotional trigger, then. Related to his long-held ruminations on Order and Chaos.
Yes.
“You Primordials are beings of Chaos, are you not? Your great enemy, therefore, must be Order. So it makes no sense that you would seek to ‘put the world to Order.’ Unless, of course, you were using deliberately misleading language, and your idea of ‘order’ means something totally different, eh? Perhaps even the exact opposite thing! Eheh! But I’m sure a stand-up Gentleman like you would never do something like that!”
“...You remember more of Bellvine than you have let on.”
“Mm! Perhaps I do! But y’know, I feel talking to you is also helping me to remember even more things, too! So thanks for that. Maybe you’re not such a bad guy, after all.”
Sunday, April 21, 2024
Page 3569
“Ah, lemme think about that! Lots of things come to mind! And you’re quite likely to not answer anything I ask later, so I gotta pick something really good! Hmm! What’s the best question to ask first?!”
“I already have mine picked out.”
“Oh, well, look at you, Mr. Prepared. Got somethin’ you’ve been wanting to ask me for a long time, eh?”
“Indeed.”
“Interesting. And you didn’t think to simply ask? Y’know, before trying to kill me?”
“The thought did cross my mind. But I discarded it.”
“How cruel. You should indulge your curiosity more. It’s a very human quality, Germy. And who knows? I might have pleasantly surprised you.”
“I doubt it.”
“Hmph. My question for you, then, is thus. What are you, really? You’re not a servant. I know that much. So tell me the truth of your existence, Liar of Lyste.”
“I’ve never cared for that name.”
“Gentleman of Palei, then.”
Germal took a long pause before answering. “I am that which you have been seeking, Demon.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“A Primordial.”
Morgunov made no response. He just let that answer linger, thinking on it. Could that be true? This was coming from the Liar, after all. And that had been quite easily said.
Ah, but perhaps that was the trick here. Telling the truth so quickly would actually make it seem like a lie, wouldn’t it? Which would let Germal pass over it and move on to a more favorable fiction.
And if it were true, it would explain a few things. Morgunov had already come to the conclusion that the Liar had orchestrated this whole thing, which meant that the timing with Rasalased and his supposed sister had not been coincidental. It would make sense that a real Primordial would’ve had access to those two beforehand. Coordinated with them. To ambush him.
Yes.
“I don’t believe you,” Morgunov decided to say.
“How surprising. But I have answered your question. Now it is my turn.”
“I’m afraid not. We can’t move on until the question has been answered to the asker’s satisfaction. And I am far from satisfied. If what you said is true, then provide details. The term ‘Primordial’ has existed for eons. If you really are one of them, then tell me what that means to you. How do you define yourself?”
“My, my. There are any number of ways that I could answer that. If I were to ask you the same thing, to define yourself, could you do so?”
“You bet your ass I could. And if you want, I’d be more than happy to. When it’s your turn.”
“I already have mine picked out.”
“Oh, well, look at you, Mr. Prepared. Got somethin’ you’ve been wanting to ask me for a long time, eh?”
“Indeed.”
“Interesting. And you didn’t think to simply ask? Y’know, before trying to kill me?”
“The thought did cross my mind. But I discarded it.”
“How cruel. You should indulge your curiosity more. It’s a very human quality, Germy. And who knows? I might have pleasantly surprised you.”
“I doubt it.”
“Hmph. My question for you, then, is thus. What are you, really? You’re not a servant. I know that much. So tell me the truth of your existence, Liar of Lyste.”
“I’ve never cared for that name.”
“Gentleman of Palei, then.”
Germal took a long pause before answering. “I am that which you have been seeking, Demon.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“A Primordial.”
Morgunov made no response. He just let that answer linger, thinking on it. Could that be true? This was coming from the Liar, after all. And that had been quite easily said.
Ah, but perhaps that was the trick here. Telling the truth so quickly would actually make it seem like a lie, wouldn’t it? Which would let Germal pass over it and move on to a more favorable fiction.
And if it were true, it would explain a few things. Morgunov had already come to the conclusion that the Liar had orchestrated this whole thing, which meant that the timing with Rasalased and his supposed sister had not been coincidental. It would make sense that a real Primordial would’ve had access to those two beforehand. Coordinated with them. To ambush him.
Yes.
“I don’t believe you,” Morgunov decided to say.
“How surprising. But I have answered your question. Now it is my turn.”
“I’m afraid not. We can’t move on until the question has been answered to the asker’s satisfaction. And I am far from satisfied. If what you said is true, then provide details. The term ‘Primordial’ has existed for eons. If you really are one of them, then tell me what that means to you. How do you define yourself?”
“My, my. There are any number of ways that I could answer that. If I were to ask you the same thing, to define yourself, could you do so?”
“You bet your ass I could. And if you want, I’d be more than happy to. When it’s your turn.”
Saturday, April 20, 2024
Page 3568
“Instead of promises which are sure to be broken, perhaps you could provide me with information. Here and now.”
“Interesting!” said Morgunov. “I’m open to that! Only problem is that all I’d be getting in exchange would be a promise from you to release me. And as you said, promises are sure to be broken.”
“If I do not deliver on said promise, then we will both remain stuck here.”
“Exactly. Which further means that you could continue pumping me for information for as long as you please. So if you want my knowledge, then you’ll have to give me some of yours in return.”
“You surprise me. I thought you would surely believe that I could not possibly tell you anything that you do not already know.”
“Why? Because of the so-called ‘emperor’s hubris?’ Puh-lease! I’m the humblest emperor to ever walk the planet!” He paused. “Plus, I’m sure you’re hiding all sorts of juicy secrets in that freaky little horn of yours.”
“It is not freaky.”
“It’s pretty freaky.”
“Hmph.”
“Oh, and since you’re the one holdin’ the key here, you’ve got a bit more negotiating power than I do. So that means I’m gonna need you to go first with the answering of questions. As a show of good faith, you understand.”
“I do not like the sound of that. If I have more negotiating power, as you claim, then surely it is you who should be going first, not me.”
“No, but see, if I go first, then you can just refuse to answer my question and ask another one of yours, instead. And you can just keep doing that endlessly.”
“You say that as if you would be incapable of refusing, yourself.”
“Of course I could refuse! But you could end the conversation whenever you want by just releasing us! And then what, huh? I’d be left alone, answerless, with my dick in my hand. And I would find that quite upsetting.”
“Hmm. I suppose you have a point.”
“‘Course I do!”
“But please keep your penis in your pants.”
“It was a metaphor. The youngins say that all the time. I can’t even feel my pants, right now.”
“I do not wish to see your metaphorical penis, either.”
“My--? Huh... Why do I feel so insulted, right now?”
“If I am to go first, then so be it. What is your question for me?”
“Interesting!” said Morgunov. “I’m open to that! Only problem is that all I’d be getting in exchange would be a promise from you to release me. And as you said, promises are sure to be broken.”
“If I do not deliver on said promise, then we will both remain stuck here.”
“Exactly. Which further means that you could continue pumping me for information for as long as you please. So if you want my knowledge, then you’ll have to give me some of yours in return.”
“You surprise me. I thought you would surely believe that I could not possibly tell you anything that you do not already know.”
“Why? Because of the so-called ‘emperor’s hubris?’ Puh-lease! I’m the humblest emperor to ever walk the planet!” He paused. “Plus, I’m sure you’re hiding all sorts of juicy secrets in that freaky little horn of yours.”
“It is not freaky.”
“It’s pretty freaky.”
“Hmph.”
“Oh, and since you’re the one holdin’ the key here, you’ve got a bit more negotiating power than I do. So that means I’m gonna need you to go first with the answering of questions. As a show of good faith, you understand.”
“I do not like the sound of that. If I have more negotiating power, as you claim, then surely it is you who should be going first, not me.”
“No, but see, if I go first, then you can just refuse to answer my question and ask another one of yours, instead. And you can just keep doing that endlessly.”
“You say that as if you would be incapable of refusing, yourself.”
“Of course I could refuse! But you could end the conversation whenever you want by just releasing us! And then what, huh? I’d be left alone, answerless, with my dick in my hand. And I would find that quite upsetting.”
“Hmm. I suppose you have a point.”
“‘Course I do!”
“But please keep your penis in your pants.”
“It was a metaphor. The youngins say that all the time. I can’t even feel my pants, right now.”
“I do not wish to see your metaphorical penis, either.”
“My--? Huh... Why do I feel so insulted, right now?”
“If I am to go first, then so be it. What is your question for me?”
Friday, April 19, 2024
Page 3567
“And I shall never let it be said that you lack conviction,” said Morgunov. “This whole thing was your doing, wasn’t it? This plot to ambush me?”
“Well, if you are to blame anyone, it might as well be me.”
“Ha! So casual! As if you did not plan it meticulously!”
“You are not as unpredictable as you think, Nibas. It was not that hard.”
“Mm! How irksome. You really know how to get under a guy’s skin, don’tcha?”
“I do my level best.”
A funny thought struck Morgunov, and he decided to run with it. “But if that’s really true, then you shouldn’t mind proving it, eh?”
“Proving what?”
“That it wasn’t that hard for you to ambush me! Because I’m so predictable, right? So prove it!”
A beat passed. “Heh. How would you like to me to do that?”
“Well, obviously, you should let me escape and then just ambush me a second time!”
Germal chuckled.
“C’mon!” said Morgunov, also laughing. “That’d prove your point more thoroughly than anything else! You know I’m right!”
“A tempting proposition.”
“Hoho! Perhaps you’ve got some guts, after all! Not just a bag full of underhanded hijinks!”
“Tempting, I said. But no. I think not.”
“Boo! What a chicken! A spoil sport! And, dare I say, an all-around fib-teller! You must not have found me predictable in the slightest! In which case, I believe this now counts as my victory. Too bad for you, Germy.”
“Truly, I am crushed.”
“Well, either way, it seems we’ll have to arrive at some sort of compromise here, eventually. I’m not letting you go unless you let me go, first. And since we’ve been gabbin’ for a good little while now and no one’s come a-knockin’, I’d say we’re well and truly stuck here.”
“Perhaps so.”
“Good, I’m glad you agree! So let’s talk brass tacks, then! What’s it gonna take for you to let me outta here, hmm?”
“Oh, well, what are you offering?”
“How about a big, friendly hug once we’re free?”
“Ah. Not a death sentence at all, I’m sure.”
“Of course not! Friendly, I said! How could killing you be considered friendly?”
“I’m sure you could think of a way to spin that.”
“Alright, alright. How about if I promise not to immediately rip your head off, then?”
“How generous.”
“Right? I mean, we both know you would deserve it.”
“I think I’ll have to pass on that one, as well.”
“Really breakin’ my balls here, man. Why don’t you try suggesting something, then?”
“Well, if you are to blame anyone, it might as well be me.”
“Ha! So casual! As if you did not plan it meticulously!”
“You are not as unpredictable as you think, Nibas. It was not that hard.”
“Mm! How irksome. You really know how to get under a guy’s skin, don’tcha?”
“I do my level best.”
A funny thought struck Morgunov, and he decided to run with it. “But if that’s really true, then you shouldn’t mind proving it, eh?”
“Proving what?”
“That it wasn’t that hard for you to ambush me! Because I’m so predictable, right? So prove it!”
A beat passed. “Heh. How would you like to me to do that?”
“Well, obviously, you should let me escape and then just ambush me a second time!”
Germal chuckled.
“C’mon!” said Morgunov, also laughing. “That’d prove your point more thoroughly than anything else! You know I’m right!”
“A tempting proposition.”
“Hoho! Perhaps you’ve got some guts, after all! Not just a bag full of underhanded hijinks!”
“Tempting, I said. But no. I think not.”
“Boo! What a chicken! A spoil sport! And, dare I say, an all-around fib-teller! You must not have found me predictable in the slightest! In which case, I believe this now counts as my victory. Too bad for you, Germy.”
“Truly, I am crushed.”
“Well, either way, it seems we’ll have to arrive at some sort of compromise here, eventually. I’m not letting you go unless you let me go, first. And since we’ve been gabbin’ for a good little while now and no one’s come a-knockin’, I’d say we’re well and truly stuck here.”
“Perhaps so.”
“Good, I’m glad you agree! So let’s talk brass tacks, then! What’s it gonna take for you to let me outta here, hmm?”
“Oh, well, what are you offering?”
“How about a big, friendly hug once we’re free?”
“Ah. Not a death sentence at all, I’m sure.”
“Of course not! Friendly, I said! How could killing you be considered friendly?”
“I’m sure you could think of a way to spin that.”
“Alright, alright. How about if I promise not to immediately rip your head off, then?”
“How generous.”
“Right? I mean, we both know you would deserve it.”
“I think I’ll have to pass on that one, as well.”
“Really breakin’ my balls here, man. Why don’t you try suggesting something, then?”
Thursday, April 18, 2024
Page 3566
“In that case,” said Germal, “perhaps you could share what you’ve learned of me. At times, I feel as though even I do not know what I am doing or why.”
“Oho! How I wish for that to be true!” said Morgunov. “Very relatable, that notion! But of course it would be, wouldn’t it?! You’ve learned a thing or two about me, as well, I’m sure! Tryin’ to soften me up with some familiarity, huh?!”
“Interpret things however you please, but I shall not deny that I have been studying you. The Problem of the Furies is an ever cycling one, but you, ledo, only ever make it worse. Ignoring you would have been foolish beyond measure.”
Morgunov’s eyes might have bulged if he could have felt them. “The Problem of the Furies, you say? Well, now... that’s quite the juicy morsel you’ve just dropped at my feet! Hmm! I’m finally tempted to believe something you’ve said! Well done, Germy!”
“Either you die this day, or I do. There is no point in lying.”
“Said the Liar! Oh, and please, don’t say that! If I have things my way, you won’t be dying for a very, very long time!”
“All the more reason to bring your reign of terror to an end, then.”
“Ooh, is that what this has all been about?! Germy! Don’t tell me! Are you one of those secret, noble heroes of the ancient world?! Fighting wickedness from the shadows?!”
“Anyone who goes against you can be considered a hero.”
“Eheh. How mean. I can be heroic when I want to, you know. As a matter of fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that taking care of you, right here, right now, might just be one of the most heroic things I could ever do.”
“You’ve really built me up quite a bit in your mind, haven’t you?”
“It’s nothin’ you haven’t earned, dear boy! Or, cedo, as you would say? Yes!”
“Indeed. Ah, but you still have not told me what you know of my words. Please, go on and enlighten me.”
“I do love an attentive listener. Alright, then! Those words you use. They’re psychic markers, aren’t they? Meaningful to you in ways that are imperceptible to others. And I bet they make it easier to pry into the mind, don’t they? Especially when you want to leave a lasting impression on someone, hmm? What better method than to take on a memorable way of speaking? You do love mucking about memories, don’t you?”
For the first time that Morgunov had heard, the Liar of Lyste returned a laugh.
“I shall never let it be said that you lack imagination, Demon.”
“Oho! How I wish for that to be true!” said Morgunov. “Very relatable, that notion! But of course it would be, wouldn’t it?! You’ve learned a thing or two about me, as well, I’m sure! Tryin’ to soften me up with some familiarity, huh?!”
“Interpret things however you please, but I shall not deny that I have been studying you. The Problem of the Furies is an ever cycling one, but you, ledo, only ever make it worse. Ignoring you would have been foolish beyond measure.”
Morgunov’s eyes might have bulged if he could have felt them. “The Problem of the Furies, you say? Well, now... that’s quite the juicy morsel you’ve just dropped at my feet! Hmm! I’m finally tempted to believe something you’ve said! Well done, Germy!”
“Either you die this day, or I do. There is no point in lying.”
“Said the Liar! Oh, and please, don’t say that! If I have things my way, you won’t be dying for a very, very long time!”
“All the more reason to bring your reign of terror to an end, then.”
“Ooh, is that what this has all been about?! Germy! Don’t tell me! Are you one of those secret, noble heroes of the ancient world?! Fighting wickedness from the shadows?!”
“Anyone who goes against you can be considered a hero.”
“Eheh. How mean. I can be heroic when I want to, you know. As a matter of fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that taking care of you, right here, right now, might just be one of the most heroic things I could ever do.”
“You’ve really built me up quite a bit in your mind, haven’t you?”
“It’s nothin’ you haven’t earned, dear boy! Or, cedo, as you would say? Yes!”
“Indeed. Ah, but you still have not told me what you know of my words. Please, go on and enlighten me.”
“I do love an attentive listener. Alright, then! Those words you use. They’re psychic markers, aren’t they? Meaningful to you in ways that are imperceptible to others. And I bet they make it easier to pry into the mind, don’t they? Especially when you want to leave a lasting impression on someone, hmm? What better method than to take on a memorable way of speaking? You do love mucking about memories, don’t you?”
For the first time that Morgunov had heard, the Liar of Lyste returned a laugh.
“I shall never let it be said that you lack imagination, Demon.”
Wednesday, April 17, 2024
Page 3565
“A stalemate does not favor you here,” said Germal.
“Oh? And how would you know that? I’m sure you have no perception of time, either. For all you know, this could last a good long while for us in here before anyone out there is able to interfere. Or even forever! Eheh! Now wouldn’t that be something?! Trapped together for eternity!”
“You would never abide such an arrangement.”
“Nor would you, I imagine!”
The Liar made no response.
Morgunov pondered the situation a bit more on his own, trying to assess himself. His thoughts may have been greatly diminished in this space, but he still felt like he had access to the full breadth of his memories. And his personality still felt entirely intact, for what that was worth.
Yes. It was really just his body that was missing. Interesting.
A root cause attack should have, theoretically, been suppressing every new thought, even these ones. He supposed it was because he’d pulled Germal in with him that it wasn’t working properly. Either that, or that ancient text had been full of shit. What had it been called again?
Of Minds and Manipulation, by Harundel the Greater.
Ah, yes. One of those silly Harundels. Perhaps that made sense.
“Still reading my mind, Liar?”
“I am flattered that you continue to overestimate my abilities,” said Germal.
“Mmhmm, mmhmm. That’s right. Never stop trying to downplay yourself. Always seek to make your enemies underestimate you. Eheh. Did I teach you that? Surely not. Doesn’t sound like me. So where’d you learn it from, hmm? You can tell me. Who was your mentor?”
“Oh, I’ve had many.”
“Yeah? Who was the most impactful, then?”
“I couldn’t possibly choose just one.”
“Mm,” hummed Morgunov. “Or perhaps you’ve had none at all? That’s another way of thinking about it, isn’t it? If you have enough teachers, then you cease taking after any of them, eh? You achieve that all-important originality, eh?”
“You flatter me again, ledo.”
“Ooh, the honorific! Who’s flattering whom now?!” Morgunov broke for chortle. “Y’know, I’ve learned a thing or two about some of those curious words you use. Words I’ve never heard anyone else use.”
“Is that right?”
“Sure is. What, did you think I haven’t been observing you over the years? You may be a sneaky boy, but you’re far from the first to hide from me. And honestly, you’re not even that good at it. Gotten too comfortable behind that big pupper of yours, I’d wager.”
“Oh? And how would you know that? I’m sure you have no perception of time, either. For all you know, this could last a good long while for us in here before anyone out there is able to interfere. Or even forever! Eheh! Now wouldn’t that be something?! Trapped together for eternity!”
“You would never abide such an arrangement.”
“Nor would you, I imagine!”
The Liar made no response.
Morgunov pondered the situation a bit more on his own, trying to assess himself. His thoughts may have been greatly diminished in this space, but he still felt like he had access to the full breadth of his memories. And his personality still felt entirely intact, for what that was worth.
Yes. It was really just his body that was missing. Interesting.
A root cause attack should have, theoretically, been suppressing every new thought, even these ones. He supposed it was because he’d pulled Germal in with him that it wasn’t working properly. Either that, or that ancient text had been full of shit. What had it been called again?
Of Minds and Manipulation, by Harundel the Greater.
Ah, yes. One of those silly Harundels. Perhaps that made sense.
“Still reading my mind, Liar?”
“I am flattered that you continue to overestimate my abilities,” said Germal.
“Mmhmm, mmhmm. That’s right. Never stop trying to downplay yourself. Always seek to make your enemies underestimate you. Eheh. Did I teach you that? Surely not. Doesn’t sound like me. So where’d you learn it from, hmm? You can tell me. Who was your mentor?”
“Oh, I’ve had many.”
“Yeah? Who was the most impactful, then?”
“I couldn’t possibly choose just one.”
“Mm,” hummed Morgunov. “Or perhaps you’ve had none at all? That’s another way of thinking about it, isn’t it? If you have enough teachers, then you cease taking after any of them, eh? You achieve that all-important originality, eh?”
“You flatter me again, ledo.”
“Ooh, the honorific! Who’s flattering whom now?!” Morgunov broke for chortle. “Y’know, I’ve learned a thing or two about some of those curious words you use. Words I’ve never heard anyone else use.”
“Is that right?”
“Sure is. What, did you think I haven’t been observing you over the years? You may be a sneaky boy, but you’re far from the first to hide from me. And honestly, you’re not even that good at it. Gotten too comfortable behind that big pupper of yours, I’d wager.”
Tuesday, April 16, 2024
Page 3564 -- CCXCVI.
~~“Hello, Demonnnn.”~~
The words were unlike anything he had ever heard or felt. Low and distorted, they stretched through his mind, dragging it along with with them, interfering with every new thought that struggled to arise.
A root cause attack.
Even just realizing the danger was difficult. He’d never experienced this before, but he’d read of it, long ago.
One of the most powerful psychic techniques ever invented--and by most powerful psychics to have ever existed, no less. The ancient Kingsparrows.
It paralyzed their prey by preventing any and all thoughts from being formulated in the mind. Reserved for particularly resilient minds that the psychic could not simply snap with brute force. And once it was activated, there was no escaping it, except by the will of the psychic who used it.
Morgunov, therefore, found himself abruptly trapped in a prison of his own mind.
And yet, when he’d read the claims in that ancient text about just how strong a root cause attack was supposed to be, he’d found himself quite doubtful, especially regarding that last part.
So now, he was about to put it to the test.
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Six: ‘The Dance of the Mad Gods...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
The first thing to do was invoke a feedback loop. It didn’t require any real thought. More of a feeling than an idea. And quite simple, besides. Well-practiced.
So if he was to be trapped, then at the very least, he would not be alone here.
It only seemed fair, right?
Aha.
Yes.
Fascinating. The space of his mind had reduced immensely. No feeling of his body. No senses whatsoever. Not even aura or time.
A simple black void. But not even a vast one, like the true Void. This had walls. Impassable barriers all around him.
A tiny room.
Good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic.
“But what about you?” said Morgunov without a mouth. His voice simply carried forth, originating from nowhere and everywhere at once. “You’re not afraid of tight spaces, are you?”
His passenger was there, though he had no form, no body, just like Morgunov himself.
“There’s no point playing coy, now,” Morgunov went on. “Speak to me. It seems you’ve granted the both of us an abundance of time. And to be honest, I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years. Germal.”
A long silence drew out, but it didn’t bother Morgunov in the slightest.
Actually, it made him giggle. Was he causing frustration for this creature that had long frustrated him? How positively delightful.
“You cannot sustain this, Demon.”
“Mm, I dunno. I kinda feel like I can.”
The words were unlike anything he had ever heard or felt. Low and distorted, they stretched through his mind, dragging it along with with them, interfering with every new thought that struggled to arise.
A root cause attack.
Even just realizing the danger was difficult. He’d never experienced this before, but he’d read of it, long ago.
One of the most powerful psychic techniques ever invented--and by most powerful psychics to have ever existed, no less. The ancient Kingsparrows.
It paralyzed their prey by preventing any and all thoughts from being formulated in the mind. Reserved for particularly resilient minds that the psychic could not simply snap with brute force. And once it was activated, there was no escaping it, except by the will of the psychic who used it.
Morgunov, therefore, found himself abruptly trapped in a prison of his own mind.
And yet, when he’d read the claims in that ancient text about just how strong a root cause attack was supposed to be, he’d found himself quite doubtful, especially regarding that last part.
So now, he was about to put it to the test.
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Six: ‘The Dance of the Mad Gods...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
The first thing to do was invoke a feedback loop. It didn’t require any real thought. More of a feeling than an idea. And quite simple, besides. Well-practiced.
So if he was to be trapped, then at the very least, he would not be alone here.
It only seemed fair, right?
Aha.
Yes.
Fascinating. The space of his mind had reduced immensely. No feeling of his body. No senses whatsoever. Not even aura or time.
A simple black void. But not even a vast one, like the true Void. This had walls. Impassable barriers all around him.
A tiny room.
Good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic.
“But what about you?” said Morgunov without a mouth. His voice simply carried forth, originating from nowhere and everywhere at once. “You’re not afraid of tight spaces, are you?”
His passenger was there, though he had no form, no body, just like Morgunov himself.
“There’s no point playing coy, now,” Morgunov went on. “Speak to me. It seems you’ve granted the both of us an abundance of time. And to be honest, I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years. Germal.”
A long silence drew out, but it didn’t bother Morgunov in the slightest.
Actually, it made him giggle. Was he causing frustration for this creature that had long frustrated him? How positively delightful.
“You cannot sustain this, Demon.”
“Mm, I dunno. I kinda feel like I can.”
Monday, April 15, 2024
Page 3563
There was another problem to consider, however.
The black sun. The darkening atmosphere.
That was no mere cosmetic side effect of Kallmakk’s presence. It was a sign that the feldeath was doing two things: boosting the potency of all its attacks, and also preparing one of it most powerful abilities. After having been obliterated by said ability twice in the past, Morgunov had taken to calling it “Domain Wipe.”
It was either that or “Darkness Nuke.” He wasn’t sure which was more apt, but he liked the sound of first one better.
Regardless, it was a thing that could not be ignored. If it was allowed to go off, it would probably kill everyone here simultaneously, and since he was the only one present who knew precisely how deadly it was, he couldn’t count on the others to stop it. If he did, and they failed, he and Bool would end up just as dead as the rest of them.
Truthfully, though, he was still a bit tempted to let it go. How funny would it have been if, after so much fighting with each other, Kallmakk just killed them all with one attack? In terms of ways to go out, that was quite a chucklesome one.
If he didn’t still have so much that he wanted to do, he might’ve done it.
With Invisibility, he circled around to the feldeath backside. It probably made no difference, since he fairly sure that Kallmakk had omnidirectional senses, but it wouldn’t hurt, either.
With his one remaining glove, he gathered his strength into his hand and barreled into the giant abomination with a flying punch, not holding back in the slight, because he knew the sucker could take it.
Kallmakk burst apart in an inky spray of black. The sun flickered and brightened, as did the rest of the sky, though it was noticeably slower to do so, as if a veil were being slowly peeled away.
That was better. The sun was still unnaturally dark, but that was fine. As long as it wasn’t black.
Now for the Roberts. They should’ve been--
He spun around in midair just in time to catch Koh with another hooking punch. The dog went flying again and left a satisfying crater in the ground when he landed.
Hmph. Sneaky little jerk. Almost caught him offguard again. If he hadn’t been anticipating--
From behind, he felt two hands grab his head.
The black sun. The darkening atmosphere.
That was no mere cosmetic side effect of Kallmakk’s presence. It was a sign that the feldeath was doing two things: boosting the potency of all its attacks, and also preparing one of it most powerful abilities. After having been obliterated by said ability twice in the past, Morgunov had taken to calling it “Domain Wipe.”
It was either that or “Darkness Nuke.” He wasn’t sure which was more apt, but he liked the sound of first one better.
Regardless, it was a thing that could not be ignored. If it was allowed to go off, it would probably kill everyone here simultaneously, and since he was the only one present who knew precisely how deadly it was, he couldn’t count on the others to stop it. If he did, and they failed, he and Bool would end up just as dead as the rest of them.
Truthfully, though, he was still a bit tempted to let it go. How funny would it have been if, after so much fighting with each other, Kallmakk just killed them all with one attack? In terms of ways to go out, that was quite a chucklesome one.
If he didn’t still have so much that he wanted to do, he might’ve done it.
With Invisibility, he circled around to the feldeath backside. It probably made no difference, since he fairly sure that Kallmakk had omnidirectional senses, but it wouldn’t hurt, either.
With his one remaining glove, he gathered his strength into his hand and barreled into the giant abomination with a flying punch, not holding back in the slight, because he knew the sucker could take it.
Kallmakk burst apart in an inky spray of black. The sun flickered and brightened, as did the rest of the sky, though it was noticeably slower to do so, as if a veil were being slowly peeled away.
That was better. The sun was still unnaturally dark, but that was fine. As long as it wasn’t black.
Now for the Roberts. They should’ve been--
He spun around in midair just in time to catch Koh with another hooking punch. The dog went flying again and left a satisfying crater in the ground when he landed.
Hmph. Sneaky little jerk. Almost caught him offguard again. If he hadn’t been anticipating--
From behind, he felt two hands grab his head.
Sunday, April 14, 2024
Page 3562
It was difficult, yes. But it was a technique that he had mastered many, many years ago, back when Bool was still calling most of the shots and forcing him to learn this and that. He’d mapped it to an instinctual place in his mind, making it summonable on a moment’s notice, whenever needed.
But these days, it really, really annoyed him whenever he had to use it.
A reminder of his failings. A loss of control. Of self-determination and agency.
There were few things in this world that he hated more.
Kallmakk really knew how to get under his skin.
Thankfully, though, his plan was working. Despite how intensely the feldeath was coming after him, the other combatants were still receiving plenty of attention, too. In the mayhem, he could sense those dark beams wreaking havoc among the Vanguardian ranks.
Where had the big pooch gotten to, though? Morgunov had no doubt Koh would be all over him again at any moment.
Aha. Morgunov sensed him. Still a ways away, on the ground. He finally had a few fresh moments of breathing room. He had to avoid another beam, but that was easy enough in this gaseous form.
Time to prepare the Roberts, then. They needed to assemble and transform. He gave the telepathic command via the chips in his brain.
Nothing less than three Mk. Vs would do, he decided. That wouldn’t leave very many Mk. IIIs behind to harass the Vannies, but it was a necessary risk. And Kallmakk was keeping them plenty busy, now. He wouldn’t get a better opening than this.
In the meantime, he resorted to Invisibility, using one of his aberration bone items. Not a ring, like most of his boys had to use. No, his was a tooth. Or rather, a cap, installed over one of his molars.
A much better hiding place.
He knew it wouldn’t work on Koh, though. He’d already tried it, and the mutt had no trouble keeping track of him, probably via both smell and aura.
Kallmakk, though, was a different story. Morgunov was reasonably certain that feldeaths sensed the world around them primarily via ardor and soul power. If they could sense aura, it was definitely much weaker.
And with so much of his soul power already in play elsewhere, this Invisibility was actually perfect for keeping the feldeath off his back. He would’ve used it even earlier, but he’d wanted to make sure Kallmakk became enraged, first. Plus, Koh would have torn through the Invisibility’s coating, anyway, rendering it useless.
But these days, it really, really annoyed him whenever he had to use it.
A reminder of his failings. A loss of control. Of self-determination and agency.
There were few things in this world that he hated more.
Kallmakk really knew how to get under his skin.
Thankfully, though, his plan was working. Despite how intensely the feldeath was coming after him, the other combatants were still receiving plenty of attention, too. In the mayhem, he could sense those dark beams wreaking havoc among the Vanguardian ranks.
Where had the big pooch gotten to, though? Morgunov had no doubt Koh would be all over him again at any moment.
Aha. Morgunov sensed him. Still a ways away, on the ground. He finally had a few fresh moments of breathing room. He had to avoid another beam, but that was easy enough in this gaseous form.
Time to prepare the Roberts, then. They needed to assemble and transform. He gave the telepathic command via the chips in his brain.
Nothing less than three Mk. Vs would do, he decided. That wouldn’t leave very many Mk. IIIs behind to harass the Vannies, but it was a necessary risk. And Kallmakk was keeping them plenty busy, now. He wouldn’t get a better opening than this.
In the meantime, he resorted to Invisibility, using one of his aberration bone items. Not a ring, like most of his boys had to use. No, his was a tooth. Or rather, a cap, installed over one of his molars.
A much better hiding place.
He knew it wouldn’t work on Koh, though. He’d already tried it, and the mutt had no trouble keeping track of him, probably via both smell and aura.
Kallmakk, though, was a different story. Morgunov was reasonably certain that feldeaths sensed the world around them primarily via ardor and soul power. If they could sense aura, it was definitely much weaker.
And with so much of his soul power already in play elsewhere, this Invisibility was actually perfect for keeping the feldeath off his back. He would’ve used it even earlier, but he’d wanted to make sure Kallmakk became enraged, first. Plus, Koh would have torn through the Invisibility’s coating, anyway, rendering it useless.
Thursday, April 11, 2024
Wednesday, April 10, 2024
Page 3561
Truth be told, Morgunov had options, still. It might not have seemed like it, and he might not have even wanted to acknowledge it himself, but it was true. Pan-rozum, which he and Bool were currently in, always allowed for plenty of flexibility.
He just hated resorting to it. For a couple different reasons, really. The first being that it gave more power over to Bool. Whenever they merged these days, Morgunov’s consciousness dominated Bool’s to the point that he no longer felt any different when compared to his normal self. So he was able to enjoy some nice, passive bonuses without having to deal with yet another meddlesome voice in his head.
But the more proactive benefits of pan-rozum--such as tapping into materialization, for instance--required the reaper to put in some real work. Which meant Morgunov had to give up some control.
Quite unpleasant.
Another reason he hated it was because it just felt somewhat... cheap. Lame. Unrelated to his genius or hard work.
When it came to fighting, he always wanted to win because of his inventions, his mastery over integration, or with sheer martial prowess.
But ultimately, that was his hubris talking. Something that had, perhaps, grown a bit out of control over the last century or two.
Here and now, he was again being reminded of his own limitations. Of how, when the chips were down, he would do whatever it took. Ego be damned.
For the briefest instant, Rachman’s face flashed through his mind. That smiling, self-satisfied face from right before Morgunov struck the final blow.
It was never going to stop haunting him, was it?
Morgunov split his body apart in order to avoid the next beam at the last possible second.
A most difficult technique. It required the simultaneous use of integration, transfiguration, and materialization.
For transfigurers in pan-rozum, they could turn their body into their element and manipulate it freely by merely adding materialization. Becoming beings of gas or liquid. But for integration users, the same trick required an extra step in the beginning. Fusing the body with the surrounding gaseous elements. Then he could access transfiguration as an extension of his integration ability, which was always going to be his most comfortable, instinctual power.
From there, he could turn his body into air and split it apart, then bring it back together with materialization and finally fuse it all again with integration in order to make himself whole.
He just hated resorting to it. For a couple different reasons, really. The first being that it gave more power over to Bool. Whenever they merged these days, Morgunov’s consciousness dominated Bool’s to the point that he no longer felt any different when compared to his normal self. So he was able to enjoy some nice, passive bonuses without having to deal with yet another meddlesome voice in his head.
But the more proactive benefits of pan-rozum--such as tapping into materialization, for instance--required the reaper to put in some real work. Which meant Morgunov had to give up some control.
Quite unpleasant.
Another reason he hated it was because it just felt somewhat... cheap. Lame. Unrelated to his genius or hard work.
When it came to fighting, he always wanted to win because of his inventions, his mastery over integration, or with sheer martial prowess.
But ultimately, that was his hubris talking. Something that had, perhaps, grown a bit out of control over the last century or two.
Here and now, he was again being reminded of his own limitations. Of how, when the chips were down, he would do whatever it took. Ego be damned.
For the briefest instant, Rachman’s face flashed through his mind. That smiling, self-satisfied face from right before Morgunov struck the final blow.
It was never going to stop haunting him, was it?
Morgunov split his body apart in order to avoid the next beam at the last possible second.
A most difficult technique. It required the simultaneous use of integration, transfiguration, and materialization.
For transfigurers in pan-rozum, they could turn their body into their element and manipulate it freely by merely adding materialization. Becoming beings of gas or liquid. But for integration users, the same trick required an extra step in the beginning. Fusing the body with the surrounding gaseous elements. Then he could access transfiguration as an extension of his integration ability, which was always going to be his most comfortable, instinctual power.
From there, he could turn his body into air and split it apart, then bring it back together with materialization and finally fuse it all again with integration in order to make himself whole.
Tuesday, April 9, 2024
Page 3560
Fear and paranoia gripped his mind, threatening him with terrible familiarity. Dredging up ancient history. Assaulting him with that most deadly of weapons. Himself.
It was almost enough to make him lose track of his body. Of the pain surging through it.
These feldeaths had a way with that, he’d learned. They frequently found a way to override numbness, either by circumventing it and inflicting psychic pain instead or, even more terrifyingly, simply undoing it. As in, getting into the brain and deactivating the numbness that a reaper had previously activated. Almost like they could take over the reaper’s role.
Thankfully, this was not the first time Morgunov had experience such an attack from Kallmakk. He knew what to expect. Knew to brace not just his body but also his mind.
It didn’t make it hurt any less, but it allowed him to regain control of his faculties more quickly. Like bouncing back from a punch instead of getting floored by it.
He activated both Demon’s Grips simultaneously to increase his weight. Double, triple, quintuple. Ten times, fifty times, a hundred times. Needed the extra inertia here, as his strength rose in correspondence with it.
Not enough. He was still stuck fast. Kallmakk’s hold was ridiculous. Agh, had it gotten even stronger since the last time?
Five hundred times.
A thousand.
His arms twitched, then burst free, grabbing onto a chunk of physical darkness as if it were solid rock and ripping through it.
This did not help the pain one bit. His mind whited out for a second as he resorted to an ancient trick, trying to cope with the sheer, maddening degree of it, which left his body to stumble aimlessly through the blackness. He was moving, but it took him a while to even realize it.
Then he was in the air, still unsure why. Taken another hit? Probably.
He crashed into the ceiling and broke straight through, flying out of the cave and up into daylight. Quite the welcome sight, actually. Kallmakk would be much less threatening up here. Unless--
The sky darkened as the sun turned black.
Uh-oh.
Another dark beam came for him, and toppling through the air, he wasn’t able to dodge this time. It hit him like a train, sending him even higher into the air.
Now stuff was missing. Clothes in tatters. Left arm? Side of his face? Both missing. Not good. That meant he’d lost a glove, too.
No time to fuss over it. Another beam was coming for him. Bastard was trying to juggle him until he was completely vaporized.
It was almost enough to make him lose track of his body. Of the pain surging through it.
These feldeaths had a way with that, he’d learned. They frequently found a way to override numbness, either by circumventing it and inflicting psychic pain instead or, even more terrifyingly, simply undoing it. As in, getting into the brain and deactivating the numbness that a reaper had previously activated. Almost like they could take over the reaper’s role.
Thankfully, this was not the first time Morgunov had experience such an attack from Kallmakk. He knew what to expect. Knew to brace not just his body but also his mind.
It didn’t make it hurt any less, but it allowed him to regain control of his faculties more quickly. Like bouncing back from a punch instead of getting floored by it.
He activated both Demon’s Grips simultaneously to increase his weight. Double, triple, quintuple. Ten times, fifty times, a hundred times. Needed the extra inertia here, as his strength rose in correspondence with it.
Not enough. He was still stuck fast. Kallmakk’s hold was ridiculous. Agh, had it gotten even stronger since the last time?
Five hundred times.
A thousand.
His arms twitched, then burst free, grabbing onto a chunk of physical darkness as if it were solid rock and ripping through it.
This did not help the pain one bit. His mind whited out for a second as he resorted to an ancient trick, trying to cope with the sheer, maddening degree of it, which left his body to stumble aimlessly through the blackness. He was moving, but it took him a while to even realize it.
Then he was in the air, still unsure why. Taken another hit? Probably.
He crashed into the ceiling and broke straight through, flying out of the cave and up into daylight. Quite the welcome sight, actually. Kallmakk would be much less threatening up here. Unless--
The sky darkened as the sun turned black.
Uh-oh.
Another dark beam came for him, and toppling through the air, he wasn’t able to dodge this time. It hit him like a train, sending him even higher into the air.
Now stuff was missing. Clothes in tatters. Left arm? Side of his face? Both missing. Not good. That meant he’d lost a glove, too.
No time to fuss over it. Another beam was coming for him. Bastard was trying to juggle him until he was completely vaporized.
Monday, April 8, 2024
Page 3559
The real trouble with Koh was how resistant that big furry body was to all manner of attacks. One of Morgunov’s favored approaches when dealing with powerful close-range threats was to use integration directly on their bodies in order to fuse limbs together--or organs, even. Or, perhaps, to convert chunks of their body into completely different compounds. Even servants with quite strong passive soul defenses could not ignore such attacks completely, not when Morgunov was able to lay his hands on them. And when combined with few centuries’ worth wrestling practice, as well as the Demon’s Grip on both hands, Morgunov usually loved to deal with big brutes who just wanted attack him head on.
But Koh was an annoying outlier. Not only was he durable in the extreme, even by old servant standards, he also seemed to be packing some kind of extra resilience to Morgunov’s integration-based assaults. They did nothing to the mutt.
Was there some unknown protective factor causing that? Or was it just very impressive passive soul defenses? They would have to be truly exceptional indeed, if that was all it was. Superior even to his own, Morgunov knew. On par with Sermung’s, perhaps. Which seemed unlikely.
Regardless, the dog couldn’t be ignored. Morgunov had to let things get messy. Koh barreled into him, and the Mad Demon took it while sliding backwards, not letting himself be toppled over. He caught the animal by the neck, even as huge teeth dug into his shoulder, instantly threatening to sever his left arm.
A throat punch softened the dog’s grip, but it still didn’t let go until he hit it with a second one. And even then, the beast went straight back to mauling him.
Controlling those deadly jaws was priority number one. Allowing himself to get bitten gave too much advantage to Koh.
They hit the ground this time as they wrestled. This wasn’t good, either. Koh’s size gave him another advantage here. Needed to get back on his feet as soon as--
Morgunov saw the Nightspinner on the ceiling, already descending on them. There was no time to dodge.
This wasn’t going to feel good.
Kallmakk body slammed them both, and an earthquake split the entire cavern in two.
Black smoke blinded him, filling his vision and even his mind. And there was pressure. From everywhere at once. Not unlike being at the bottom of an ocean, which he’d experienced a few times.
But Koh was an annoying outlier. Not only was he durable in the extreme, even by old servant standards, he also seemed to be packing some kind of extra resilience to Morgunov’s integration-based assaults. They did nothing to the mutt.
Was there some unknown protective factor causing that? Or was it just very impressive passive soul defenses? They would have to be truly exceptional indeed, if that was all it was. Superior even to his own, Morgunov knew. On par with Sermung’s, perhaps. Which seemed unlikely.
Regardless, the dog couldn’t be ignored. Morgunov had to let things get messy. Koh barreled into him, and the Mad Demon took it while sliding backwards, not letting himself be toppled over. He caught the animal by the neck, even as huge teeth dug into his shoulder, instantly threatening to sever his left arm.
A throat punch softened the dog’s grip, but it still didn’t let go until he hit it with a second one. And even then, the beast went straight back to mauling him.
Controlling those deadly jaws was priority number one. Allowing himself to get bitten gave too much advantage to Koh.
They hit the ground this time as they wrestled. This wasn’t good, either. Koh’s size gave him another advantage here. Needed to get back on his feet as soon as--
Morgunov saw the Nightspinner on the ceiling, already descending on them. There was no time to dodge.
This wasn’t going to feel good.
Kallmakk body slammed them both, and an earthquake split the entire cavern in two.
Black smoke blinded him, filling his vision and even his mind. And there was pressure. From everywhere at once. Not unlike being at the bottom of an ocean, which he’d experienced a few times.
Sunday, April 7, 2024
Page 3558
No. The solution was to trick the feldeath. A much simpler task, especially when it was already obsessed with killing him.
All he had to do was slap some of his own soul power onto the others. As long as he amassed enough of it, the feldeath would treat them just like him and try to kill them, too.
Easy. Especially for the ones who were already infested with his little nano-pals. Those unlucky bastards were truly screwed here. He might’ve even felt slightly bad for them, if he didn’t find it so thoroughly amusing.
The feldeath’s first attack was not long to arrive. And it was a speedy one, too. Enough so, in fact, that had he not been anticipating it this whole time, Morgunov might well have gotten hit.
Dark beams with vaporizing force. Lasers that emitted no light of their own. Which further meant that they were completely invisible to the naked eye, unless light was already present in the area to reveal their shadowy form. And in the Nightspinner’s oppressive darkness, even soul senses and aura sight could not pick up the slack quick enough.
Thankfully, these weren’t nearly as fast as real laser beams. If they were, then reacting to them would’ve been entirely impossible without a predictive insight.
The beam that came for him sheared the rock below his feet away as if it were no more resilient than butter, leaving behind a molten groove that could have fit a highway inside it.
And that beam had not been alone. Several of his pursuers received one just like it, and many did not fare as well as he.
Two or three of them seemed to have been deleted from existence. But he was fairly sure that they had not been dumb enough to bring their reapers along. Surely, these Vannie generals would’ve known better than that, right? Even if they thought they’d had the upper hand against him for a moment there, they couldn’t have been that silly.
If not, though, then that would be quite funny. And well-deserved.
Ah, but the damn dog was still on his ass. Even with Kallmakk being all menacing over there, the pooch was still locked in on him, eh. Not that Morgunov had expected anything less. Gohvis couldn’t be relied upon to truly hurt his mutant pals.
All he had to do was slap some of his own soul power onto the others. As long as he amassed enough of it, the feldeath would treat them just like him and try to kill them, too.
Easy. Especially for the ones who were already infested with his little nano-pals. Those unlucky bastards were truly screwed here. He might’ve even felt slightly bad for them, if he didn’t find it so thoroughly amusing.
The feldeath’s first attack was not long to arrive. And it was a speedy one, too. Enough so, in fact, that had he not been anticipating it this whole time, Morgunov might well have gotten hit.
Dark beams with vaporizing force. Lasers that emitted no light of their own. Which further meant that they were completely invisible to the naked eye, unless light was already present in the area to reveal their shadowy form. And in the Nightspinner’s oppressive darkness, even soul senses and aura sight could not pick up the slack quick enough.
Thankfully, these weren’t nearly as fast as real laser beams. If they were, then reacting to them would’ve been entirely impossible without a predictive insight.
The beam that came for him sheared the rock below his feet away as if it were no more resilient than butter, leaving behind a molten groove that could have fit a highway inside it.
And that beam had not been alone. Several of his pursuers received one just like it, and many did not fare as well as he.
Two or three of them seemed to have been deleted from existence. But he was fairly sure that they had not been dumb enough to bring their reapers along. Surely, these Vannie generals would’ve known better than that, right? Even if they thought they’d had the upper hand against him for a moment there, they couldn’t have been that silly.
If not, though, then that would be quite funny. And well-deserved.
Ah, but the damn dog was still on his ass. Even with Kallmakk being all menacing over there, the pooch was still locked in on him, eh. Not that Morgunov had expected anything less. Gohvis couldn’t be relied upon to truly hurt his mutant pals.
Saturday, April 6, 2024
11 Years
So today, boys and girls, is our eleventh anniversary. Isn't that wild? Thanks for following along all this time.
Now you might be thinking that, damn, Frost must be getting old as hell, eh? But that's where you'd be wrong. You see, I'm actually only seven years old IRL. That's right. I started writing this story before I was even born. It's older than me. Which is why all my jokes are so immature. Yeah? Makes total sense now, right? Good, I'm glad you agree.
Anyway, the new page for today just went up, in case you missed. Thanks for reading, as always.
Oh, and I think I'll drop by the Discord server around noon today, PST, in order to field all your silly questions for an hour or two. Just don't go expecting serious answers. Because, y'know, if there's one thing I've never gotten tired of after all these years, it's making up a bunch of bullshit and lying to you guys.
Now you might be thinking that, damn, Frost must be getting old as hell, eh? But that's where you'd be wrong. You see, I'm actually only seven years old IRL. That's right. I started writing this story before I was even born. It's older than me. Which is why all my jokes are so immature. Yeah? Makes total sense now, right? Good, I'm glad you agree.
Anyway, the new page for today just went up, in case you missed. Thanks for reading, as always.
Oh, and I think I'll drop by the Discord server around noon today, PST, in order to field all your silly questions for an hour or two. Just don't go expecting serious answers. Because, y'know, if there's one thing I've never gotten tired of after all these years, it's making up a bunch of bullshit and lying to you guys.
Page 3557
Now, of course, there was a very big problem with his plan here--something that he needed to address before doing anything else.
The thing about feldeaths was that they were very territorial creatures by nature, but normally, they would only kind of try to kill you. To shoo you out their domain, mainly. As long as you ran away properly, they’d leave you alone.
But when you decided to not flee and even attack them back--as Morgunov had done to Kallmakk here several times previously--that was when their cockles got all riled up.
That was the point at which merely running away ceased to be an option. That was the point at which no other being on this planet could compete with the feldeath’s single-minded determination to kill you.
It no longer mattered how far you managed to get away from it. They would chase you, quite literally, forever. They would lock on to your soul signature and follow you endlessly, until either you or they were dead, because their ability to senses souls was unparalleled. Morgunov suspected that they could sense every single soul on the planet at all times. Which meant that there was no hiding from them, either.
Thankfully, however, he had learned of one trick to get them off his case. He kept thinking that it might one day stop working, but he’d used it on Kallmakk in order to end every fight, and it hadn’t failed him yet.
He had to fake his death.
But not just his. He had to fake Bool’s as well. Which was significantly harder.
The key was to give the feldeath that all-important final blow. That satisfying strike. Once the feldeath got that, it would calm down and forget all about you.
They were beings of pure instinct, after all. Or at least, they seemed to be. He’d tried to discern if there was anything more sophisticated going on inside those strange, ethereal minds of theirs, but never had he been able to detect anything else.
But again, this was still a very big problem, because now that Morgunov had reentered its territory, Kallmakk was going to remember him. The feldeath would therefore be attacking him first--and perhaps exclusively--unless he did something about that.
So what was the solution, then? To trick the others into attacking it, as well? That would certainly do it, but he doubted they could be deceived so easily. Even if his knowledge of feldeaths dramatically dwarfed all of theirs combined, they would still know that they should avoid attacking it all costs.
The thing about feldeaths was that they were very territorial creatures by nature, but normally, they would only kind of try to kill you. To shoo you out their domain, mainly. As long as you ran away properly, they’d leave you alone.
But when you decided to not flee and even attack them back--as Morgunov had done to Kallmakk here several times previously--that was when their cockles got all riled up.
That was the point at which merely running away ceased to be an option. That was the point at which no other being on this planet could compete with the feldeath’s single-minded determination to kill you.
It no longer mattered how far you managed to get away from it. They would chase you, quite literally, forever. They would lock on to your soul signature and follow you endlessly, until either you or they were dead, because their ability to senses souls was unparalleled. Morgunov suspected that they could sense every single soul on the planet at all times. Which meant that there was no hiding from them, either.
Thankfully, however, he had learned of one trick to get them off his case. He kept thinking that it might one day stop working, but he’d used it on Kallmakk in order to end every fight, and it hadn’t failed him yet.
He had to fake his death.
But not just his. He had to fake Bool’s as well. Which was significantly harder.
The key was to give the feldeath that all-important final blow. That satisfying strike. Once the feldeath got that, it would calm down and forget all about you.
They were beings of pure instinct, after all. Or at least, they seemed to be. He’d tried to discern if there was anything more sophisticated going on inside those strange, ethereal minds of theirs, but never had he been able to detect anything else.
But again, this was still a very big problem, because now that Morgunov had reentered its territory, Kallmakk was going to remember him. The feldeath would therefore be attacking him first--and perhaps exclusively--unless he did something about that.
So what was the solution, then? To trick the others into attacking it, as well? That would certainly do it, but he doubted they could be deceived so easily. Even if his knowledge of feldeaths dramatically dwarfed all of theirs combined, they would still know that they should avoid attacking it all costs.
Friday, April 5, 2024
Page 3556
It was a good thing he’d managed to remember in time. Would’ve been quite the gnarly surprise to run into Kallmakk without realizing.
Which reminded him of something further.
He’d forgotten on purpose. In order to deceive Germal. Morgunov was ninety percent certain that the mind flayer was capable of reading his thoughts, so he’d decided to put certain memories into a temporary mental storage state.
Eheheh.
Were you still reading these thoughts, Germal? It was too late to run away, now. Kallmakk was close.
The network of caves expanded out ahead of him into one enormous cavern. Distant holes in the ceiling allowed visible bars of sunlight to cut through the otherwise thick darkness.
The light couldn’t disperse very much in here, which was the feldeath’s doing, Morgunov knew.
One other thing that he had learned about them during his years of study was that feldeaths very frequently acquired an elemental affinity--but not in correspondence with the modern understanding of elements. Rather, it was the five classical elements that the feldeaths gravitated to. Earth, water, wind, fire, and--in Kallmakk’s case--darkness.
Why this was, Morgunov still did not know. Truly baffling, he found it. But then, that was often the way with feldeaths, wasn’t it? They were paradoxical beings that should not have been able to exist in the first place.
Regardless, it made fighting Kallmakk that much more of a challenge. Because this darkness wasn’t just physical. It muddied soul senses and even aura sight, too, concealing the feldeath’s presence beneath a kind of regional blanket.
Which meant that light was now a precious resource. Vital for survival here. These bars of it from the sun were nowhere near enough.
So he set about creating more. With integration, it was a simple enough matter. He stopped running abruptly and slapped the flat ground with one hand, sending dozens of glowing lines through the rock all around him, lighting up the entire cavern within seconds.
And there the surly bugger was, bundled up in a high corner above the workshop’s entrance.
Kallmakk the Nightspinner.
The sight of it there made even his pursuers stop and pause.
Eheh. Getting cold feet? Bit late for that.
Kallmakk unfurled itself slowly, not unlike a massive serpent, but its actual form, to Morgunov’s eyes, soon became that of a hulking, ethereal machine with a distorted clock face at its center. Blood oozed from its numbers and twitching hands, and black smoke seeped from cracks all over its body.
Which reminded him of something further.
He’d forgotten on purpose. In order to deceive Germal. Morgunov was ninety percent certain that the mind flayer was capable of reading his thoughts, so he’d decided to put certain memories into a temporary mental storage state.
Eheheh.
Were you still reading these thoughts, Germal? It was too late to run away, now. Kallmakk was close.
The network of caves expanded out ahead of him into one enormous cavern. Distant holes in the ceiling allowed visible bars of sunlight to cut through the otherwise thick darkness.
The light couldn’t disperse very much in here, which was the feldeath’s doing, Morgunov knew.
One other thing that he had learned about them during his years of study was that feldeaths very frequently acquired an elemental affinity--but not in correspondence with the modern understanding of elements. Rather, it was the five classical elements that the feldeaths gravitated to. Earth, water, wind, fire, and--in Kallmakk’s case--darkness.
Why this was, Morgunov still did not know. Truly baffling, he found it. But then, that was often the way with feldeaths, wasn’t it? They were paradoxical beings that should not have been able to exist in the first place.
Regardless, it made fighting Kallmakk that much more of a challenge. Because this darkness wasn’t just physical. It muddied soul senses and even aura sight, too, concealing the feldeath’s presence beneath a kind of regional blanket.
Which meant that light was now a precious resource. Vital for survival here. These bars of it from the sun were nowhere near enough.
So he set about creating more. With integration, it was a simple enough matter. He stopped running abruptly and slapped the flat ground with one hand, sending dozens of glowing lines through the rock all around him, lighting up the entire cavern within seconds.
And there the surly bugger was, bundled up in a high corner above the workshop’s entrance.
Kallmakk the Nightspinner.
The sight of it there made even his pursuers stop and pause.
Eheh. Getting cold feet? Bit late for that.
Kallmakk unfurled itself slowly, not unlike a massive serpent, but its actual form, to Morgunov’s eyes, soon became that of a hulking, ethereal machine with a distorted clock face at its center. Blood oozed from its numbers and twitching hands, and black smoke seeped from cracks all over its body.
Thursday, April 4, 2024
Page 3555
As for the feldeath that had claimed Karugetti’s workshop, Morgunov classified that one as a Category Hippo. Extremely dangerous. Certainly among the deadliest he’d ever spent time actually trying to fight.
This particular feldath was also one that had garnered a bit of fame for itself and earned a moniker. Kallmakk, they called it here in Ardora.
And it may have been the cause of Karugetti’s death.
Morgunov still did not know that for sure, and he probably never would, but it was a very reasonable explanation for the famed inventor’s sudden disappearance from the world stage during the height of his power and influence. Considering no human person ever tried to take credit for the man’s death, that really only left two possibilities: either Karugetti gave it all up and went into hiding on his own, or he died with no witnesses and no means of ever confirming it.
Being such an admirer of the man’s work from even a very young age, Morgunov had held onto hope for many, many years that Karugetti might still be alive. Heck, a part of him still wanted to think that way now.
But the workshop was pretty damning evidence. And from all accounts he’d ever read about Karugetti’s personality, the man had actually been quite the social butterfly. It was therefore doubly unlikely that he would’ve faked his death to go live in quiet isolation somewhere.
Which was why Morgunov had decided to fight Kallmakk on more than one occasion. Vengeance for his fallen hero. Or, perhaps, a means of discovering some evidence that Karugetti was indeed alive. If such evidence existed, it would’ve made sense for Kallmakk to be in possession of or otherwise guarding it.
But to no avail.
On both counts, Morgunov had failed miserably. Kallmakk was simply too damn powerful. And even after trying to avoid the fight in order to sneak into the workshop and look for clues, he’d still turned up nothing.
Which was not to say that he’d entirely given up on the endeavor.
One day, he aimed to return and give Kallmakk a right thrashing.
And as a matter of fact, today seemed like as good a day as any. He certainly wouldn’t mind if his pursuers managed to bring the stubborn jerk down.
So really, this was a win-win situation for him, regardless of who won.
Unless he himself got killed here, of course. Boy, that’d be a real downer.
This particular feldath was also one that had garnered a bit of fame for itself and earned a moniker. Kallmakk, they called it here in Ardora.
And it may have been the cause of Karugetti’s death.
Morgunov still did not know that for sure, and he probably never would, but it was a very reasonable explanation for the famed inventor’s sudden disappearance from the world stage during the height of his power and influence. Considering no human person ever tried to take credit for the man’s death, that really only left two possibilities: either Karugetti gave it all up and went into hiding on his own, or he died with no witnesses and no means of ever confirming it.
Being such an admirer of the man’s work from even a very young age, Morgunov had held onto hope for many, many years that Karugetti might still be alive. Heck, a part of him still wanted to think that way now.
But the workshop was pretty damning evidence. And from all accounts he’d ever read about Karugetti’s personality, the man had actually been quite the social butterfly. It was therefore doubly unlikely that he would’ve faked his death to go live in quiet isolation somewhere.
Which was why Morgunov had decided to fight Kallmakk on more than one occasion. Vengeance for his fallen hero. Or, perhaps, a means of discovering some evidence that Karugetti was indeed alive. If such evidence existed, it would’ve made sense for Kallmakk to be in possession of or otherwise guarding it.
But to no avail.
On both counts, Morgunov had failed miserably. Kallmakk was simply too damn powerful. And even after trying to avoid the fight in order to sneak into the workshop and look for clues, he’d still turned up nothing.
Which was not to say that he’d entirely given up on the endeavor.
One day, he aimed to return and give Kallmakk a right thrashing.
And as a matter of fact, today seemed like as good a day as any. He certainly wouldn’t mind if his pursuers managed to bring the stubborn jerk down.
So really, this was a win-win situation for him, regardless of who won.
Unless he himself got killed here, of course. Boy, that’d be a real downer.
Wednesday, April 3, 2024
Page 3554
Ah, wait a tick.
Feldeaths! Of course. He was recalling now. How could he have forgotten?
That was why he’d decided to head for Karugetti’s workshop.
Because there was a feldeath there. Guarding it. And that was also why he’d never gotten around to putting a new fusion forge in there. Because that particular feldath was a real son of a bitch, even when compared against others of its kind.
His long study of feldeaths might not have been nearly as fruitful as he would’ve preferred, but one thing he’d been able to learn quite clearly was that not all feldeaths were created equal. Far from it, in fact. He’d even begun work on a rigorous classification system for them.
It was far from exhaustive, though. The bastards never made it easy to measure their strength. And the true depths of their power might’ve simply been impossible to discover without first giving oneself over to certain death.
Mad as he supposedly was, even Morgunov was only willing to go so far for his work.
The naming scheme had taken him a while to nail down. On the one hand, he didn’t want it to be all generic and boring, like with hurricanes, for example. But on the other hand, a good classification system needed to be largely intuitive to understand. So naming one of them Category Pickle Sandwich or Tier Snot Bubble was out of the question, unfortunately.
In the end, he’d decided that animals would be the best of both worlds. They could be both non-generic and also intuitive, as long as he picked the right animals for each tier.
Thus far, he’d created five categories, though he hoped to one day codify a sixth or even seventh. That would just depend on whether or not he could ever find any more distinguishing characteristics that corresponded with their varying degrees of power.
From least to most dangerous, they were Mouse, Rabbit, Swan, Hippo, and Moth.
That last one, admittedly, had been a bit of a rule break. He had to do it. Even if moths were supposed to be harmless, there was just something about them that he didn’t trust. And besides, that tier was still a work-in-progress. He’d only ever encountered a single Category Moth, anyway, and he’d pretty much just run away from it the whole time. So it hardly mattered, right now. He could always rename it later, if he thought of something better.
Feldeaths! Of course. He was recalling now. How could he have forgotten?
That was why he’d decided to head for Karugetti’s workshop.
Because there was a feldeath there. Guarding it. And that was also why he’d never gotten around to putting a new fusion forge in there. Because that particular feldath was a real son of a bitch, even when compared against others of its kind.
His long study of feldeaths might not have been nearly as fruitful as he would’ve preferred, but one thing he’d been able to learn quite clearly was that not all feldeaths were created equal. Far from it, in fact. He’d even begun work on a rigorous classification system for them.
It was far from exhaustive, though. The bastards never made it easy to measure their strength. And the true depths of their power might’ve simply been impossible to discover without first giving oneself over to certain death.
Mad as he supposedly was, even Morgunov was only willing to go so far for his work.
The naming scheme had taken him a while to nail down. On the one hand, he didn’t want it to be all generic and boring, like with hurricanes, for example. But on the other hand, a good classification system needed to be largely intuitive to understand. So naming one of them Category Pickle Sandwich or Tier Snot Bubble was out of the question, unfortunately.
In the end, he’d decided that animals would be the best of both worlds. They could be both non-generic and also intuitive, as long as he picked the right animals for each tier.
Thus far, he’d created five categories, though he hoped to one day codify a sixth or even seventh. That would just depend on whether or not he could ever find any more distinguishing characteristics that corresponded with their varying degrees of power.
From least to most dangerous, they were Mouse, Rabbit, Swan, Hippo, and Moth.
That last one, admittedly, had been a bit of a rule break. He had to do it. Even if moths were supposed to be harmless, there was just something about them that he didn’t trust. And besides, that tier was still a work-in-progress. He’d only ever encountered a single Category Moth, anyway, and he’d pretty much just run away from it the whole time. So it hardly mattered, right now. He could always rename it later, if he thought of something better.
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
Page 3553
How curious they were. He’d seen them many times before. In his clashes with the other emperors, most commonly.
He knew the theories, of course. The lights were vestiges of soul power that were escaping during the extreme exertion of an emperor’s strength. Similar to beads of sweat escaping the body, perhaps. Or sparks flying away from a tempering metal. They certainly looked similar enough.
He never bought into that explanation, though, because this was a phenomenon that only ever seemed to occur when two or more very powerful servants clashed. If it were merely about the exertion of great power, then a single servant should have theoretically been capable of producing these mysterious lights, and yet Morgunov had never been able to do so.
No, he’d come to believe that they were not vestiges at all. Not little sparks of power being chipped away. Instead, he'd started to think they might be just the opposite.
They were entirely new energies. Being created from the clash of two great souls.
From the collision.
That theory had sparked all sorts of new queries in Morgunov’s mind for many years, but unfortunately, these lights were all but impossible to study. The problem, of course, was that they vanished upon the cessation of hostilities between the two great souls, so the only opportunity to learn more about them directly was in the midst of the battle. At the peak of the battle, even. When the most danger was posed.
But perhaps here and now, he might finally have a window? While Gohvis was buying him time.
Oh dear. The temptation was so very strong.
He needed to not give in. He needed to remember the danger. He needed to keep going. Stay on task. The workshop. That was what mattered now.
Even if he might never get a better opportunity than this one...
No! Foolish thoughts!
And not even true, besides. Because he remembered now. There was actually another instance in which this same phenomenon could occur.
Feldeaths. They could produce this effect, too. It was rarer for them, but Morgunov had most definitely observed it a couple of times during his tumultuous research of those stubborn buggers.
Not all feldeaths seemed capable of pulling it off, though. That was the trouble with them. Their unpredictability. With two clashing emperors, it was much more consistent.
But perhaps there was some other, still-mysterious environmental condition that needed to be met with feldeaths.
He knew the theories, of course. The lights were vestiges of soul power that were escaping during the extreme exertion of an emperor’s strength. Similar to beads of sweat escaping the body, perhaps. Or sparks flying away from a tempering metal. They certainly looked similar enough.
He never bought into that explanation, though, because this was a phenomenon that only ever seemed to occur when two or more very powerful servants clashed. If it were merely about the exertion of great power, then a single servant should have theoretically been capable of producing these mysterious lights, and yet Morgunov had never been able to do so.
No, he’d come to believe that they were not vestiges at all. Not little sparks of power being chipped away. Instead, he'd started to think they might be just the opposite.
They were entirely new energies. Being created from the clash of two great souls.
From the collision.
That theory had sparked all sorts of new queries in Morgunov’s mind for many years, but unfortunately, these lights were all but impossible to study. The problem, of course, was that they vanished upon the cessation of hostilities between the two great souls, so the only opportunity to learn more about them directly was in the midst of the battle. At the peak of the battle, even. When the most danger was posed.
But perhaps here and now, he might finally have a window? While Gohvis was buying him time.
Oh dear. The temptation was so very strong.
He needed to not give in. He needed to remember the danger. He needed to keep going. Stay on task. The workshop. That was what mattered now.
Even if he might never get a better opportunity than this one...
No! Foolish thoughts!
And not even true, besides. Because he remembered now. There was actually another instance in which this same phenomenon could occur.
Feldeaths. They could produce this effect, too. It was rarer for them, but Morgunov had most definitely observed it a couple of times during his tumultuous research of those stubborn buggers.
Not all feldeaths seemed capable of pulling it off, though. That was the trouble with them. Their unpredictability. With two clashing emperors, it was much more consistent.
But perhaps there was some other, still-mysterious environmental condition that needed to be met with feldeaths.
Monday, April 1, 2024
Page 3552
It was a waste of perfectly good subjects for future experimentation, but they were the ones trying to push him into a corner here. This was what happened when you refused the Mad Demon’s mercy.
When the Vannies noticed the Roberts, their ranks distorted instantly. Ehehe. Perhaps his little metal boys had left them with a bit of trauma? Funny, considering how old and powerful these uppity generals were supposed to be.
One, two, three captured piggies. Easy as pie. The projections really did work wonders, didn’t they? Ah, Iceheart set about trying to free his companions immediately. Surprisingly warm of him, considering his reputation. Must’ve thought they were important.
Wasn’t going well for the icy boy, though. Lad wasn’t at his best, at the moment. Morgunov had made sure to infest him with plenty of little saboteurs, just as he’d done for Jackson. Didn’t want Iceheart feeling left out, if he managed to survive all this.
Impressively, though, Iceheart was still managing to avoid capture himself. Hmm. Not being deceived by the Mk. IIIs’ projections, huh? Interesting. Why might that be? Had that fellow developed aura sight while Morgunov wasn’t looking? Finally seeing a bit more of the world, perhaps? Not letting that closed-mindedness of his continue to win out?
Eh. Doubtful.
Oop. Dog was back. Barreling toward him with that huge body like a torpedo. Ah, but Gohvis was intercepting again, allowing Morgunov to retain some of his breathing room.
Morgunov still wasn’t buying it, though. Rather than moving to assist Gohvis, he kept running and devoted some thoughts to why the Monster might be pretending to go against his own mutant cronies, right now.
The main reason why Morgunov had not been able to deal with the enigmatic problem of Germal years ago was because the Liar had the protection of not only Koh but also Gohvis. So had the Liar lost Gohvis’ favor?
Maybe, but Morgunov could see Gohvis pulling his punches here, too. If Germal had truly angered the Monster, then this scenario would be playing out quite differently, right now. That wouldn’t just be a psychic projection over there. That would be the real Monster.
So what was the goal here, then?
Well.
To trick the Mad Demon, obviously.
But it wouldn’t work.
Morgunov could sense. Morgunov could see.
The mayhem of the fight was increasing to a feverous pitch. Those familiar packets of floating light were beginning to appear. Whispers of freed energy.
When the Vannies noticed the Roberts, their ranks distorted instantly. Ehehe. Perhaps his little metal boys had left them with a bit of trauma? Funny, considering how old and powerful these uppity generals were supposed to be.
One, two, three captured piggies. Easy as pie. The projections really did work wonders, didn’t they? Ah, Iceheart set about trying to free his companions immediately. Surprisingly warm of him, considering his reputation. Must’ve thought they were important.
Wasn’t going well for the icy boy, though. Lad wasn’t at his best, at the moment. Morgunov had made sure to infest him with plenty of little saboteurs, just as he’d done for Jackson. Didn’t want Iceheart feeling left out, if he managed to survive all this.
Impressively, though, Iceheart was still managing to avoid capture himself. Hmm. Not being deceived by the Mk. IIIs’ projections, huh? Interesting. Why might that be? Had that fellow developed aura sight while Morgunov wasn’t looking? Finally seeing a bit more of the world, perhaps? Not letting that closed-mindedness of his continue to win out?
Eh. Doubtful.
Oop. Dog was back. Barreling toward him with that huge body like a torpedo. Ah, but Gohvis was intercepting again, allowing Morgunov to retain some of his breathing room.
Morgunov still wasn’t buying it, though. Rather than moving to assist Gohvis, he kept running and devoted some thoughts to why the Monster might be pretending to go against his own mutant cronies, right now.
The main reason why Morgunov had not been able to deal with the enigmatic problem of Germal years ago was because the Liar had the protection of not only Koh but also Gohvis. So had the Liar lost Gohvis’ favor?
Maybe, but Morgunov could see Gohvis pulling his punches here, too. If Germal had truly angered the Monster, then this scenario would be playing out quite differently, right now. That wouldn’t just be a psychic projection over there. That would be the real Monster.
So what was the goal here, then?
Well.
To trick the Mad Demon, obviously.
But it wouldn’t work.
Morgunov could sense. Morgunov could see.
The mayhem of the fight was increasing to a feverous pitch. Those familiar packets of floating light were beginning to appear. Whispers of freed energy.
Sunday, March 31, 2024
Page 3551
Gohvis grabbed the dog by the scruff and pulled him off of Morgunov. Koh thrashed wildly in the Monster’s grasp, jaws snapping at the dragon man’s face until Gohvis flung the animal into the dark, distant reaches of the cave.
Morgunov was not grateful, however. “I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you do.”
There was a game afoot. Morgunov knew it. Gohvis didn’t care about him. The Monster of the East had no reason to be here, right now. And Morgunov very much wanted to call him out on it. Tell him to stop pretending. To reveal what his true intentions were.
But there was no time for throwing accusations around. And while it was true that he didn’t need Gohvis’ help, what he really didn’t need was Gohvis deciding to join sides with the attackers.
Unfortunately, Morgunov had a feeling that was going to happen sooner or later, regardless.
He kept running. The workshop. Had to get to the workshop. There was something there that would help. He knew that much. He just couldn’t quite recall what it was. He must’ve remembered earlier, when deciding to head there. He just had to trust in his earlier self’s judgment.
That was fine.
The Vanguardians were closing on his position again. The Roberts told him so.
Time to intercept, then. A couple of Mk. IIIs would be sufficient, he decided. Didn’t want to use too many for this. That would reduce their collective observational prowess, which he very much needed.
The Mk. III Robert was ideal for this task for a couple of different reasons. The first was that it had the best ratio of durability and mobility. Not so weak that it could be easily knocked out by one of those Vannie generals, but also not so slow that it could be easily dodged, either. And the second reason was that it carried a particular invention in its arsenal that the Mk. Is and IIs didn’t have access to.
An invention he’d dubbed the Bull Fighter.
Well, okay, Jercash had dubbed it that, but Morgunov had liked the name enough to keep using it.
The Bull Fighter, in short, was a distraction-based tool, utilizing both audio and visual projection technology in order to befuddle opponents and then immobilize them from behind with soul-strengthened net launchers.
For more threatening targets, however, the nets would not serve well as long-term containment. Which, unfortunately, meant that the Mk. IIIs had to use that window of vulnerability to go in for the kill, instead.
Morgunov was not grateful, however. “I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you do.”
There was a game afoot. Morgunov knew it. Gohvis didn’t care about him. The Monster of the East had no reason to be here, right now. And Morgunov very much wanted to call him out on it. Tell him to stop pretending. To reveal what his true intentions were.
But there was no time for throwing accusations around. And while it was true that he didn’t need Gohvis’ help, what he really didn’t need was Gohvis deciding to join sides with the attackers.
Unfortunately, Morgunov had a feeling that was going to happen sooner or later, regardless.
He kept running. The workshop. Had to get to the workshop. There was something there that would help. He knew that much. He just couldn’t quite recall what it was. He must’ve remembered earlier, when deciding to head there. He just had to trust in his earlier self’s judgment.
That was fine.
The Vanguardians were closing on his position again. The Roberts told him so.
Time to intercept, then. A couple of Mk. IIIs would be sufficient, he decided. Didn’t want to use too many for this. That would reduce their collective observational prowess, which he very much needed.
The Mk. III Robert was ideal for this task for a couple of different reasons. The first was that it had the best ratio of durability and mobility. Not so weak that it could be easily knocked out by one of those Vannie generals, but also not so slow that it could be easily dodged, either. And the second reason was that it carried a particular invention in its arsenal that the Mk. Is and IIs didn’t have access to.
An invention he’d dubbed the Bull Fighter.
Well, okay, Jercash had dubbed it that, but Morgunov had liked the name enough to keep using it.
The Bull Fighter, in short, was a distraction-based tool, utilizing both audio and visual projection technology in order to befuddle opponents and then immobilize them from behind with soul-strengthened net launchers.
For more threatening targets, however, the nets would not serve well as long-term containment. Which, unfortunately, meant that the Mk. IIIs had to use that window of vulnerability to go in for the kill, instead.
Saturday, March 30, 2024
Friday, March 29, 2024
Page 3550
Careful. Had to be careful. A single Mk. V could certainly help out in a big way, right now, but that would be risky, and there were too few Roberts left to be gambling with them.
For the moment, at least.
Needed to wait for his opening. The information the Roberts were relaying back to him was arguably even more valuable than their combat assistance. There were too many threatening opponents to worry about now. Being able to track all of their movements like this was exactly what he needed.
For now, he could just keep sprinting through the labyrinth. Might be a problem, though, if he forgot that path to Karugetti’s workshop.
Yeah. Better play it safe, then. Partition that information off. Give it some extra mental security from the mind flayer.
He felt another bolt arrive. A surge of electric pain through the skull.
A distraction. Nothing more. Easy enough to ignore. Pain wasn’t a problem. The tricks were. The subtle attacks. Those were what he had to pay attention to. The pain was meant to help those sleights of hand elude his notice.
Yes. There you were, Germal. Silent as a shadow, rifling through memories that didn’t belong to you.
OUT!
The cavern trembled with the force of Morgunov’s psychic purge. Rock and dust drizzled from the ceiling, threatening a cave-in, but he just kept going. It was the first time he’d caught even a glimpse of the Liar in there. He couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste.
The trembling grew into a full earthquake, and then the cave-in was no longer just a threat. Truck-sized boulders crashed down all around him--even on top of him.
And still, he ignored them. It didn’t matter if he ended up buried. He could dig his way out later.
Germal was all that mattered now. Morgunov had grip of a thread. A psychic line leading back to the slippery bugger. Just a few seconds more.
Ah, but now was precisely when the protector would--
Yes. The wolf’s jaws came through the boulders with drilling force, and Morgunov had to stop and catch them with both hands, invoking the Grip’s strength again. Thankfully, he had a glove for each hand.
Yet even still, it was barely enough power to keep that black maw from closing down on him. Morgunov was struggling. And he knew that he didn’t have time for a stalemate here. A stalemate was as good as a loss when so many others were gunning for him.
For the moment, at least.
Needed to wait for his opening. The information the Roberts were relaying back to him was arguably even more valuable than their combat assistance. There were too many threatening opponents to worry about now. Being able to track all of their movements like this was exactly what he needed.
For now, he could just keep sprinting through the labyrinth. Might be a problem, though, if he forgot that path to Karugetti’s workshop.
Yeah. Better play it safe, then. Partition that information off. Give it some extra mental security from the mind flayer.
He felt another bolt arrive. A surge of electric pain through the skull.
A distraction. Nothing more. Easy enough to ignore. Pain wasn’t a problem. The tricks were. The subtle attacks. Those were what he had to pay attention to. The pain was meant to help those sleights of hand elude his notice.
Yes. There you were, Germal. Silent as a shadow, rifling through memories that didn’t belong to you.
OUT!
The cavern trembled with the force of Morgunov’s psychic purge. Rock and dust drizzled from the ceiling, threatening a cave-in, but he just kept going. It was the first time he’d caught even a glimpse of the Liar in there. He couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste.
The trembling grew into a full earthquake, and then the cave-in was no longer just a threat. Truck-sized boulders crashed down all around him--even on top of him.
And still, he ignored them. It didn’t matter if he ended up buried. He could dig his way out later.
Germal was all that mattered now. Morgunov had grip of a thread. A psychic line leading back to the slippery bugger. Just a few seconds more.
Ah, but now was precisely when the protector would--
Yes. The wolf’s jaws came through the boulders with drilling force, and Morgunov had to stop and catch them with both hands, invoking the Grip’s strength again. Thankfully, he had a glove for each hand.
Yet even still, it was barely enough power to keep that black maw from closing down on him. Morgunov was struggling. And he knew that he didn’t have time for a stalemate here. A stalemate was as good as a loss when so many others were gunning for him.
Thursday, March 28, 2024
Page 3549
He wanted greatly to stay and show the beast what for, but he knew better. The battle that had taken place back at his workshop had illustrated that point for him.
It had not gone in his favor, to say the least. In fact, it had only gotten worse and worse as things drew out.
First, there was Rasalased’s supposed sister hassling him via the new tattoos. Then there was the blasted dog, hunting him down incessantly. Then there was Germal, to boot--that mind flaying bastard.
And to top it off?
Damian Lofar had showed up, too. That one, Morgunov had actually been quite pleased about.
At first.
He’d been hoping that Damian might’ve somehow been alive all these years, but clearly, the lad had not been harboring similar feelings for his beloved mentor. The first thing the old boy had done was free Parson Miles. Along with the other captive Vanguardians.
And that was really when things began to go south. Iceheart and all those angry little generals joining the fight, even in their debilitated states, was not something that Morgunov had a good time dealing with.
Or had he?
No, that was wrong. He’d been having fun, hadn’t he? A thrilling encounter with his life truly at risk for the first time in countless years.
Nibas had loved it.
Rgh. Morgunov shook his head as he ran. Tricks and confusion. Right now, he needed to focus. Maintain the link to the Roberts. Their numbers had been severely culled by now, but they were still one of the best remaining cards up his sleeve. How many could he sense? Twenty-three? Twenty-four.
Rough. Hopefully, more survived elsewhere, out of range.
He knew he’d have to be sneaky with them. The Vanguardians had grown wise enough to avoid them rather than fight, which was annoying, but it was the dog that was the biggest threat to his poor Roberts. That son of a bitch could just shrug off their attacks and bite through their tempered metal hulls as if they were made of meat.
In that respect, it was actually a good thing that the wolf was so obsessed with hunting him down. It meant that Morgunov didn’t have to go out of his way in order to keep the animal’s attention. He could more easily focus on having the Roberts harass the softer targets with guerrilla tactics.
It had not gone in his favor, to say the least. In fact, it had only gotten worse and worse as things drew out.
First, there was Rasalased’s supposed sister hassling him via the new tattoos. Then there was the blasted dog, hunting him down incessantly. Then there was Germal, to boot--that mind flaying bastard.
And to top it off?
Damian Lofar had showed up, too. That one, Morgunov had actually been quite pleased about.
At first.
He’d been hoping that Damian might’ve somehow been alive all these years, but clearly, the lad had not been harboring similar feelings for his beloved mentor. The first thing the old boy had done was free Parson Miles. Along with the other captive Vanguardians.
And that was really when things began to go south. Iceheart and all those angry little generals joining the fight, even in their debilitated states, was not something that Morgunov had a good time dealing with.
Or had he?
No, that was wrong. He’d been having fun, hadn’t he? A thrilling encounter with his life truly at risk for the first time in countless years.
Nibas had loved it.
Rgh. Morgunov shook his head as he ran. Tricks and confusion. Right now, he needed to focus. Maintain the link to the Roberts. Their numbers had been severely culled by now, but they were still one of the best remaining cards up his sleeve. How many could he sense? Twenty-three? Twenty-four.
Rough. Hopefully, more survived elsewhere, out of range.
He knew he’d have to be sneaky with them. The Vanguardians had grown wise enough to avoid them rather than fight, which was annoying, but it was the dog that was the biggest threat to his poor Roberts. That son of a bitch could just shrug off their attacks and bite through their tempered metal hulls as if they were made of meat.
In that respect, it was actually a good thing that the wolf was so obsessed with hunting him down. It meant that Morgunov didn’t have to go out of his way in order to keep the animal’s attention. He could more easily focus on having the Roberts harass the softer targets with guerrilla tactics.
Wednesday, March 27, 2024
Page 3548
Aha. He remembered.
Oh boy, did he remember!
There was an ancient workshop at the heart of this cave system. A workshop that had once belonged to one of the greatest integrators to ever live.
Karugetti the Wise.
In fact, as far as historically revered geniuses were concerned, it was just him and Skapa at the top.
Nibas dreamt of being in that same category, one day. Standing tall, shoulder to shoulder with those giants.
And to think that he’d stumbled upon one of their workshops. Granted, it hadn’t exactly been in the best condition, but still. There’d been a massive crater in it where he suspected that a Fusion Forge once resided. He wanted to put a new one there, both to honor Karugetti and to see if, perhaps, he might be able to discover something interesting about that particular location. A man of Karugetti’s stature probably hadn’t chosen the site of his Fusion Forge randomly. Maybe there was something special about it.
Hmm.
So why hadn’t he ever gotten around to doing that, then? Nibas paused to think. The weird dragon man was saying something again, but Nibas wasn’t listening.
There’d definitely been a reason. He wouldn’t have abandoned such an incredible place without cause, surely.
On second thought, maybe he would have. He was kind of an air-headed guy sometimes, wasn’t he? Easily distracted with new and exciting projects. Too true, sadly. Too true.
No, but there had to have been a reason--
The shaking ground brought him back to reality, and he sensed the attack coming from above.
Tch! Interrupting his important thinking time!
The wolf’s mouth barreled through the cave ceiling, coated in black and as massive as a whale’s. Ready to devour him whole.
Morgunov jumped up and clobbered the beast with a right hook.
The wolf’s teeth nicked his shoulder before it was sent flying into the far wall.
Morgunov landed with a heavy thud on both feet, cracking the ground below him as he flexed his gloved right hand, feeling the power and pain surging through it. That glove was the third generation of the Demon’s Grip, and it had the ability to not just increase the muscle strength of his arm, but also the weight of his entire body, starting from the hand.
At its full strength, which was what he’d just used, that punch should’ve had enough force behind it to obliterate the wolf’s entire body like a popped balloon, but he could already sense the damn dog getting back up again.
Morgunov scowled.
Oh boy, did he remember!
There was an ancient workshop at the heart of this cave system. A workshop that had once belonged to one of the greatest integrators to ever live.
Karugetti the Wise.
In fact, as far as historically revered geniuses were concerned, it was just him and Skapa at the top.
Nibas dreamt of being in that same category, one day. Standing tall, shoulder to shoulder with those giants.
And to think that he’d stumbled upon one of their workshops. Granted, it hadn’t exactly been in the best condition, but still. There’d been a massive crater in it where he suspected that a Fusion Forge once resided. He wanted to put a new one there, both to honor Karugetti and to see if, perhaps, he might be able to discover something interesting about that particular location. A man of Karugetti’s stature probably hadn’t chosen the site of his Fusion Forge randomly. Maybe there was something special about it.
Hmm.
So why hadn’t he ever gotten around to doing that, then? Nibas paused to think. The weird dragon man was saying something again, but Nibas wasn’t listening.
There’d definitely been a reason. He wouldn’t have abandoned such an incredible place without cause, surely.
On second thought, maybe he would have. He was kind of an air-headed guy sometimes, wasn’t he? Easily distracted with new and exciting projects. Too true, sadly. Too true.
No, but there had to have been a reason--
The shaking ground brought him back to reality, and he sensed the attack coming from above.
Tch! Interrupting his important thinking time!
The wolf’s mouth barreled through the cave ceiling, coated in black and as massive as a whale’s. Ready to devour him whole.
Morgunov jumped up and clobbered the beast with a right hook.
The wolf’s teeth nicked his shoulder before it was sent flying into the far wall.
Morgunov landed with a heavy thud on both feet, cracking the ground below him as he flexed his gloved right hand, feeling the power and pain surging through it. That glove was the third generation of the Demon’s Grip, and it had the ability to not just increase the muscle strength of his arm, but also the weight of his entire body, starting from the hand.
At its full strength, which was what he’d just used, that punch should’ve had enough force behind it to obliterate the wolf’s entire body like a popped balloon, but he could already sense the damn dog getting back up again.
Morgunov scowled.
Tuesday, March 26, 2024
Page 3547 -- CCXCV.
‘Oh?’ said Garovel. ‘Saw something else?’
Before Hector could respond, however, his phone went off. He dematerialized some of his leg armor in order to fish it out of his pants and saw that it was Ms. Rogers calling. He answered it.
<“Lord, there is pressing news from Vantalay. The Rainlords would like to talk to you. Would you mind returning to--?”>
A rustling noise arrived, and then someone else was speaking.
<“We’ve received a very strange offer, Lord Goffe.”> That was Joana Cortes from the sound of it. <“And we would like your opinion.”>
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Five: ‘An archdemon’s pursuit...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Nibas clutched his head again, squinting hard as the unwelcome thoughts returned, setting his vision aflame and burning the inside of his skull. Confusion was trying to grip him again. He could feel it. Powerful and tempting. Ancient and inviting.
But he had anger on his side. He would not bend. He still remembered. He still had his walls. Still had himself.
“Morgunov,” came that familiar double-voice on his left. “Don’t forget. Use me as your anchor. The sound of my voice. Hold onto it. Don’t forget.”
Nibas was getting annoyed with him, too. “Stop reminding me. I remember just fine.”
“No, you don’t. You have to trust me, right now.”
“Why should I? You’re not even real! You’re just an illusion, like all the others!”
“Yes, but I’m not your illusion. I’m my own. And I’ve come to help you. Remember? You were in a bad spot until I bailed you out.”
“I was having fun!”
“You were being killed.”
“Which was fun!”
The voice sighed.
Nibas was still having trouble placing it. So familiar. Agh. “What’s your name?”
“Gohvis. Remember.”
“Ah! Gohvis! You came to help me?! No wonder I think you’re an illusion! The real Gohvis would never do that!”
“You of all people should know that there is no such thing as ‘never.’”
“Oho! True enough, I suppose!”
“Circumstances are too complicated, at the moment. Just keep listening to my voice. Trust that I am your ally here. You can still make it through this.”
Nibas shook his head. Yes. Strangely enough, he knew the voice spoke true. They’d had this conversation before, hadn’t they?
How troubling.
Where was he again? A large cave, quite clearly. He strained to recall further details.
Ah, yes. Not just any cave. It was one of his caves. A labyrinthine network that he’d carved out decades ago. No. Centuries? Yes, centuries.
Ehehe. Finally getting to use it, eh? Nice, nice.
Now where had he been going?
Before Hector could respond, however, his phone went off. He dematerialized some of his leg armor in order to fish it out of his pants and saw that it was Ms. Rogers calling. He answered it.
<“Lord, there is pressing news from Vantalay. The Rainlords would like to talk to you. Would you mind returning to--?”>
A rustling noise arrived, and then someone else was speaking.
<“We’ve received a very strange offer, Lord Goffe.”> That was Joana Cortes from the sound of it. <“And we would like your opinion.”>
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Five: ‘An archdemon’s pursuit...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Nibas clutched his head again, squinting hard as the unwelcome thoughts returned, setting his vision aflame and burning the inside of his skull. Confusion was trying to grip him again. He could feel it. Powerful and tempting. Ancient and inviting.
But he had anger on his side. He would not bend. He still remembered. He still had his walls. Still had himself.
“Morgunov,” came that familiar double-voice on his left. “Don’t forget. Use me as your anchor. The sound of my voice. Hold onto it. Don’t forget.”
Nibas was getting annoyed with him, too. “Stop reminding me. I remember just fine.”
“No, you don’t. You have to trust me, right now.”
“Why should I? You’re not even real! You’re just an illusion, like all the others!”
“Yes, but I’m not your illusion. I’m my own. And I’ve come to help you. Remember? You were in a bad spot until I bailed you out.”
“I was having fun!”
“You were being killed.”
“Which was fun!”
The voice sighed.
Nibas was still having trouble placing it. So familiar. Agh. “What’s your name?”
“Gohvis. Remember.”
“Ah! Gohvis! You came to help me?! No wonder I think you’re an illusion! The real Gohvis would never do that!”
“You of all people should know that there is no such thing as ‘never.’”
“Oho! True enough, I suppose!”
“Circumstances are too complicated, at the moment. Just keep listening to my voice. Trust that I am your ally here. You can still make it through this.”
Nibas shook his head. Yes. Strangely enough, he knew the voice spoke true. They’d had this conversation before, hadn’t they?
How troubling.
Where was he again? A large cave, quite clearly. He strained to recall further details.
Ah, yes. Not just any cave. It was one of his caves. A labyrinthine network that he’d carved out decades ago. No. Centuries? Yes, centuries.
Ehehe. Finally getting to use it, eh? Nice, nice.
Now where had he been going?
Monday, March 25, 2024
Page 3546
‘Technically, there’s been some variation there, thanks to all the different languages that have arisen over the years, but by and large, yes, the two big names have remained the same. And that’s because of us reapers, I think. We’re not ones to let well-known names go to waste, especially when we see an opportunity to gain power and followers from them.’
“Still. You’d think some would try to branch off and establish their own groups, without all the baggage that comes with the old names, right?”
‘Oh, of course. That’s happened many times, too. And sometimes, those groups grow to be even larger than the Vanguard or Abolish for a while. We’re just in a period of history right now where that is not currently the case. At the moment, the old names are the strongest again.’
“I see...”
‘In any case, we’ve been here for a while now. We should probably head back to Warrenhold before the world explodes again.’
“You didn’t hear my phone going off while I was out, did you?”
‘No. Everything should still be fine.’
Hector took a small breath. “That’s good, at least. Are you sure there isn’t anything else you want to do while we’re here? What about the that mirror?”
‘Well, if you’ve changed your mind about breaking it, then I say we should take a chunk of it back with us. Otherwise, I don’t see what else there is to accomplish here, right now. Unless, perhaps, you discovered some way to activate the Gate’s teleportation capabilities while you were out and have neglected to mention it thus far.’
At that, Hector opened his mouth and hesitated. “Uh... a-actually...”
‘No. Hector, there’s no shot you learned something that important and forgot to tell me.’
“Hey, man, I was confused. And it’s not like I figured everything out. I just saw Rathmore using a Kag to activate the Gate. That’s all.”
‘Ooh. A Kag, eh? Interesting. Those are quite difficult to come by, in this day and age. And if there’s only one Kag in the entire world that fits the Gate, then finding it sounds... rather impossible.’
“Hmm. Yeah.”
‘But perhaps we could ask Abbas to make a new one for us.’
“Oh! You really think he could do that?”
‘Dunno. Worth asking, though. My understanding of Kags is admittedly a bit limited, but to my knowledge, they have quite a bit of variance to them, just like modern keys do.’
“Maybe even more so,” said Hector, thinking back on what he’d seen Rathmore do with it.
“Still. You’d think some would try to branch off and establish their own groups, without all the baggage that comes with the old names, right?”
‘Oh, of course. That’s happened many times, too. And sometimes, those groups grow to be even larger than the Vanguard or Abolish for a while. We’re just in a period of history right now where that is not currently the case. At the moment, the old names are the strongest again.’
“I see...”
‘In any case, we’ve been here for a while now. We should probably head back to Warrenhold before the world explodes again.’
“You didn’t hear my phone going off while I was out, did you?”
‘No. Everything should still be fine.’
Hector took a small breath. “That’s good, at least. Are you sure there isn’t anything else you want to do while we’re here? What about the that mirror?”
‘Well, if you’ve changed your mind about breaking it, then I say we should take a chunk of it back with us. Otherwise, I don’t see what else there is to accomplish here, right now. Unless, perhaps, you discovered some way to activate the Gate’s teleportation capabilities while you were out and have neglected to mention it thus far.’
At that, Hector opened his mouth and hesitated. “Uh... a-actually...”
‘No. Hector, there’s no shot you learned something that important and forgot to tell me.’
“Hey, man, I was confused. And it’s not like I figured everything out. I just saw Rathmore using a Kag to activate the Gate. That’s all.”
‘Ooh. A Kag, eh? Interesting. Those are quite difficult to come by, in this day and age. And if there’s only one Kag in the entire world that fits the Gate, then finding it sounds... rather impossible.’
“Hmm. Yeah.”
‘But perhaps we could ask Abbas to make a new one for us.’
“Oh! You really think he could do that?”
‘Dunno. Worth asking, though. My understanding of Kags is admittedly a bit limited, but to my knowledge, they have quite a bit of variance to them, just like modern keys do.’
“Maybe even more so,” said Hector, thinking back on what he’d seen Rathmore do with it.
Sunday, March 24, 2024
Page 3545
‘He joined Abolish,’ said Garovel.
Hector’s brow rose.
‘Went on to do many horrific things after that, though the world seems to have forgotten much of it, just because he did some great things when he was younger. Really bothers me, that.’
Hector was almost afraid to ask, but he had to. “What, exactly... did he do that was so bad?”
Garovel looked up at the sky. ‘He poisoned three countries. Contaminated their water. Created an awful disease and the worst acid rain I’ve ever witnessed. Killed millions in the span of a year or two.’
“Holy fuck...”
‘Yeah.’ The reaper paused. ‘But I suppose, in fairness, I should mention that there is some contention over whether or not he was the one responsible for it. Part of the reason his crimes have been largely forgotten, I suspect, is because there was a lack of proof of culpability.’
“But you believe he did it?”
‘I'd love to be proven wrong, but yes. I think I do.’
“How come?”
‘Because I talked to him, near the end. And while he didn’t explicitly confirm it, he was just... so pleased about the situation. And so insane. He talked about people who’d been dead for half a century as if they were right there next to him. Anicca, in particular. Her death... broke him, I think.’
Hector didn’t know what to say. The pain in the reaper’s voice was not something he’d heard many times before.
Garovel wasn’t saying anything, either, and a heavy silence drew out.
After a while, Hector exhaled slowly and decided to change the subject, if only slightly. “...It’s still crazy to me that Abolish has been around for that long,” he said. “I mean, you’re talking about, like, two thousand years ago, right?”
‘Thereabouts.’
“And they’ve really been at war with the Vanguard the entire time?”
‘More or less. There have been periods of peace between the two, here and there. And there have also been periods when one side seemed to achieve true victory over the other, only for the loser to reemerge years later and continue the fight.’
“Man...”
‘The problem, I think, is that the two sides are more ideologically driven than anything. And ideas are very hard to kill. If not impossible. Even if you manage to wipe out everyone who thinks a certain way, someone brand new could be born who eventually arrives at those same ideas all on their own.’
“Hmm. But both sides kept the name the whole time? Like, every iteration of the Vanguard has always referred to itself as such? And Abolish, too? That seems a little weird.”
Hector’s brow rose.
‘Went on to do many horrific things after that, though the world seems to have forgotten much of it, just because he did some great things when he was younger. Really bothers me, that.’
Hector was almost afraid to ask, but he had to. “What, exactly... did he do that was so bad?”
Garovel looked up at the sky. ‘He poisoned three countries. Contaminated their water. Created an awful disease and the worst acid rain I’ve ever witnessed. Killed millions in the span of a year or two.’
“Holy fuck...”
‘Yeah.’ The reaper paused. ‘But I suppose, in fairness, I should mention that there is some contention over whether or not he was the one responsible for it. Part of the reason his crimes have been largely forgotten, I suspect, is because there was a lack of proof of culpability.’
“But you believe he did it?”
‘I'd love to be proven wrong, but yes. I think I do.’
“How come?”
‘Because I talked to him, near the end. And while he didn’t explicitly confirm it, he was just... so pleased about the situation. And so insane. He talked about people who’d been dead for half a century as if they were right there next to him. Anicca, in particular. Her death... broke him, I think.’
Hector didn’t know what to say. The pain in the reaper’s voice was not something he’d heard many times before.
Garovel wasn’t saying anything, either, and a heavy silence drew out.
After a while, Hector exhaled slowly and decided to change the subject, if only slightly. “...It’s still crazy to me that Abolish has been around for that long,” he said. “I mean, you’re talking about, like, two thousand years ago, right?”
‘Thereabouts.’
“And they’ve really been at war with the Vanguard the entire time?”
‘More or less. There have been periods of peace between the two, here and there. And there have also been periods when one side seemed to achieve true victory over the other, only for the loser to reemerge years later and continue the fight.’
“Man...”
‘The problem, I think, is that the two sides are more ideologically driven than anything. And ideas are very hard to kill. If not impossible. Even if you manage to wipe out everyone who thinks a certain way, someone brand new could be born who eventually arrives at those same ideas all on their own.’
“Hmm. But both sides kept the name the whole time? Like, every iteration of the Vanguard has always referred to itself as such? And Abolish, too? That seems a little weird.”
Wednesday, March 20, 2024
Tuesday, March 19, 2024
Page 3544
“That tracks with what I saw of him,” said Hector. “The way he talked to Rathmore was like...” And he paused, suddenly realizing what words were about to come out of his mouth and thinking twice about it.
‘Hmm? Like what?’
Hector remained quiet for a few moments longer as he thought back.
As he relived something that he didn’t want to.
“...The way Nykeir was acting reminded me of Geoffrey Rofal,” he finally said.
Garovel said nothing, perhaps expecting Hector to elaborate.
Hector decided to do so, realizing something else as well. “I guess... you weren’t actually there for that part, were you?”
‘What part?’
“At the end. My final encounter with him. He was different than before.”
‘You told me about it. I remember.’
Hmm? Oh, Garovel was talking about his father. How Geoffrey had stolen the man’s body. Taunted him while wearing his father’s face. Hector had of course told Garovel about that.
But that wasn’t what he was talking about here. “No, it wasn’t just... that. There was something else different.”
‘What do you mean?’
“Geoffrey's behavior. It was like... he wasn’t just crazy, anymore. He was obsessed. With me. And the way Nykeir was talking to Rathmore... felt very similar.”
‘Ah. I see.’ The reaper paused, hovering nearer the Gate. ‘I know exactly what you’re talking about. I may not have been present for either of the situations you’re describing, but I’ve seen it many times before. That type of... truly malevolent, psychopathic obsession. And as a matter of fact, that’s what happened to Rathmore in the end, too.’
Hector blinked. “He...? He turned out like Nykeir?”
‘Well, without having actually witnessed what you did, I can’t say for sure that they were the same, but from the sound of it, ah... yes.’
“But Rathmore seemed pretty reasonable in the memories. I mean... mostly.”
‘Oh yeah. For a while there, he was a great man. Noble of mind and heart. Level-headed and intelligent. Someone to look up to.’
“So what changed?”
‘Lots of things. It was a slow process over many years, as it often is. But... it was terrible to watch unfold. And terrible to remember, still.’ The reaper shook his skull solemnly. ‘Not being as experienced in these things back then, I was in denial about it for much longer than I should have been. And his reaper--she was even worse than I was. Absolutely refused to see the truth of things, long after it should have been obvious.’
“...What finally convinced you that he was too far gone?”
‘Hmm? Like what?’
Hector remained quiet for a few moments longer as he thought back.
As he relived something that he didn’t want to.
“...The way Nykeir was acting reminded me of Geoffrey Rofal,” he finally said.
Garovel said nothing, perhaps expecting Hector to elaborate.
Hector decided to do so, realizing something else as well. “I guess... you weren’t actually there for that part, were you?”
‘What part?’
“At the end. My final encounter with him. He was different than before.”
‘You told me about it. I remember.’
Hmm? Oh, Garovel was talking about his father. How Geoffrey had stolen the man’s body. Taunted him while wearing his father’s face. Hector had of course told Garovel about that.
But that wasn’t what he was talking about here. “No, it wasn’t just... that. There was something else different.”
‘What do you mean?’
“Geoffrey's behavior. It was like... he wasn’t just crazy, anymore. He was obsessed. With me. And the way Nykeir was talking to Rathmore... felt very similar.”
‘Ah. I see.’ The reaper paused, hovering nearer the Gate. ‘I know exactly what you’re talking about. I may not have been present for either of the situations you’re describing, but I’ve seen it many times before. That type of... truly malevolent, psychopathic obsession. And as a matter of fact, that’s what happened to Rathmore in the end, too.’
Hector blinked. “He...? He turned out like Nykeir?”
‘Well, without having actually witnessed what you did, I can’t say for sure that they were the same, but from the sound of it, ah... yes.’
“But Rathmore seemed pretty reasonable in the memories. I mean... mostly.”
‘Oh yeah. For a while there, he was a great man. Noble of mind and heart. Level-headed and intelligent. Someone to look up to.’
“So what changed?”
‘Lots of things. It was a slow process over many years, as it often is. But... it was terrible to watch unfold. And terrible to remember, still.’ The reaper shook his skull solemnly. ‘Not being as experienced in these things back then, I was in denial about it for much longer than I should have been. And his reaper--she was even worse than I was. Absolutely refused to see the truth of things, long after it should have been obvious.’
“...What finally convinced you that he was too far gone?”
Monday, March 18, 2024
Page 3543
“Huh,” said Hector, feeling abruptly like he might need to elaborate. “But, uh... Nykeir seemed kinda amused by the giant tentacle. Like more amused than worried. He just... sort of stood there and took it. Then it gooped him up and yoinked him away.”
‘“Gooped him up and yoinked him away.” Once again, your word choice continues to impress.’
“Look, I don’t how else to describe it. It was really fucking weird-looking, man.”
‘No, no, I wasn’t saying I didn’t understand. If anything, I’d say you’ve painted quite the picture for me. I’m imagining it very clearly.’
“Oh. Well, good. But anyway, my point was that maybe the Yigorosk wasn’t actually that powerful. Y’know? Considering how unbothered he seemed when it happened? Maybe he survived. In... another dimension or something.”
‘Given everything else we’ve seen lately, I suppose that’s possible. But it’s also been well over two millennia since his disappearance. If he really did live through that, then he probably got killed some other way, else he would’ve almost certainly returned by now.’
“You sound confident about that. Did you... know him personally?”
Garovel allowed that question to breathe. ‘As a matter of fact, yes, I did.’
“Why’d you never mention that you knew an ancient emperor?”
‘Why should I have? He’s far from the only one I’ve ever encountered.’
“Really? How many past emperors have you met?”
‘Oh, I don’t know. A lot. You have to understand: things weren’t always like the stalemate that we have with our current four emperors. There’ve been many times throughout history when the term “emperor” barely even applied, because they were popping up like weeds and dropping like flies. And many, despite how fleeting their time was, still managed to leave quite an impact on the world. In fact, I suspect that was all some of them cared about. Going out with a bang.’
Hector thought a moment. “You’ve really known lots of emperors-class servants?”
‘Okay, first off, you’re making it sound a bit more grandiose than it really was. And secondly, it’s not like I was intimately familiar with them all during the height of their power. Most of them, I met when they were younger. Once they got all high-and-mighty, they were usually out of my reach.’
“Usually? But not always.”
‘...No, not always.’
“So you have known some at their strongest.”
‘Yes. And Nykeir, I’d say... hmm. I knew him when he was quite powerful but not at his strongest, probably.’
“And he didn’t leave a favorable impression, from the sound of it.”
‘He did not.’
‘“Gooped him up and yoinked him away.” Once again, your word choice continues to impress.’
“Look, I don’t how else to describe it. It was really fucking weird-looking, man.”
‘No, no, I wasn’t saying I didn’t understand. If anything, I’d say you’ve painted quite the picture for me. I’m imagining it very clearly.’
“Oh. Well, good. But anyway, my point was that maybe the Yigorosk wasn’t actually that powerful. Y’know? Considering how unbothered he seemed when it happened? Maybe he survived. In... another dimension or something.”
‘Given everything else we’ve seen lately, I suppose that’s possible. But it’s also been well over two millennia since his disappearance. If he really did live through that, then he probably got killed some other way, else he would’ve almost certainly returned by now.’
“You sound confident about that. Did you... know him personally?”
Garovel allowed that question to breathe. ‘As a matter of fact, yes, I did.’
“Why’d you never mention that you knew an ancient emperor?”
‘Why should I have? He’s far from the only one I’ve ever encountered.’
“Really? How many past emperors have you met?”
‘Oh, I don’t know. A lot. You have to understand: things weren’t always like the stalemate that we have with our current four emperors. There’ve been many times throughout history when the term “emperor” barely even applied, because they were popping up like weeds and dropping like flies. And many, despite how fleeting their time was, still managed to leave quite an impact on the world. In fact, I suspect that was all some of them cared about. Going out with a bang.’
Hector thought a moment. “You’ve really known lots of emperors-class servants?”
‘Okay, first off, you’re making it sound a bit more grandiose than it really was. And secondly, it’s not like I was intimately familiar with them all during the height of their power. Most of them, I met when they were younger. Once they got all high-and-mighty, they were usually out of my reach.’
“Usually? But not always.”
‘...No, not always.’
“So you have known some at their strongest.”
‘Yes. And Nykeir, I’d say... hmm. I knew him when he was quite powerful but not at his strongest, probably.’
“And he didn’t leave a favorable impression, from the sound of it.”
‘He did not.’
Sunday, March 17, 2024
Page 3542
‘You did, huh?’ said Garovel. ‘Well, uh, that’s neat ‘n all, but still not technically anything new. I’ve already seen Rathmore.’
Hector cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, yeah, but that wasn’t really what I was--”
‘I’m just sayin’. I asked for a new thing, and you gave me an old thing. A been-there-done-that thing. Kinda disappointed in your weird new memory powers, honestly.’
“Garovel, there was more to it than just that.”
‘That’s good. Because I don’t see how just seeing Rathmore’s face would prove helpful at all.’
“...I actually didn’t see his face.”
‘Say what?’
“The memory was, er... I mean, for some reason, people in the memories were all blurry. Faces included.”
‘Wow, so after all that, you still don’t even know what he looks like?’
“Ah--yeah...”
‘Hah! Your new memory power sucks!’
“What the--?”
‘Garovel’s still on top, baby!’
Hector’s face went flat.
‘Go on, ask me something! See how well I can remember stuff!’
In spite of himself, Hector couldn’t help snickering. “You done?”
‘Not really. Feel like I could gloat for another ten minutes, if I needed to.’
“Can we skip that part? I did actually learn some useful things, I think.”
‘Oh, alright. Out with it, then. Astonish me.’
“Agh--don’t build it up like that. I don’t know if it’s that good!”
‘Okay, okay. My expectations are lowering with each passing second. As usual.’
“As usu--?! Fuck is that supposed to mean?!”
Eventually, they managed to actually discuss the subject in question.
‘Hmm,’ mused Garovel for a long moment. ‘So you saw Anicca and even Nykeir here, too. Interesting.’
“And the giant tentacle monster. Don’t forget that. Turns out that thing really existed, after all.”
‘Yeah, I know. I told you that when I first brought it up. What, you didn’t believe me?’
“I mean... not really, no.”
‘Wow. I’m hurt, Hector. Blindly believing everything I say is part of your sacred duty as a servant, you know.’
“Uh-huh...”
‘Gotta say, though. I wasn’t expecting to learn the truth about Nykeir’s sudden disappearance this way. So in the end, he got devoured by a Yigorosk... And a pretty gnarly one, from the sound of it.’
“Gnarly? Were they not all that powerful?”
‘Of course not. Nykeir was probably the strongest servant alive at that time. A normal Yigorosk shouldn’t have been able to touch him. Frankly, while I do find that son of bitch’s death hilarious and well-deserved, I also find this information rather terrifying. A Yigorosk that strong is, uh... not a pleasant thought, given everything else I know about them.’
Hector cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, yeah, but that wasn’t really what I was--”
‘I’m just sayin’. I asked for a new thing, and you gave me an old thing. A been-there-done-that thing. Kinda disappointed in your weird new memory powers, honestly.’
“Garovel, there was more to it than just that.”
‘That’s good. Because I don’t see how just seeing Rathmore’s face would prove helpful at all.’
“...I actually didn’t see his face.”
‘Say what?’
“The memory was, er... I mean, for some reason, people in the memories were all blurry. Faces included.”
‘Wow, so after all that, you still don’t even know what he looks like?’
“Ah--yeah...”
‘Hah! Your new memory power sucks!’
“What the--?”
‘Garovel’s still on top, baby!’
Hector’s face went flat.
‘Go on, ask me something! See how well I can remember stuff!’
In spite of himself, Hector couldn’t help snickering. “You done?”
‘Not really. Feel like I could gloat for another ten minutes, if I needed to.’
“Can we skip that part? I did actually learn some useful things, I think.”
‘Oh, alright. Out with it, then. Astonish me.’
“Agh--don’t build it up like that. I don’t know if it’s that good!”
‘Okay, okay. My expectations are lowering with each passing second. As usual.’
“As usu--?! Fuck is that supposed to mean?!”
Eventually, they managed to actually discuss the subject in question.
‘Hmm,’ mused Garovel for a long moment. ‘So you saw Anicca and even Nykeir here, too. Interesting.’
“And the giant tentacle monster. Don’t forget that. Turns out that thing really existed, after all.”
‘Yeah, I know. I told you that when I first brought it up. What, you didn’t believe me?’
“I mean... not really, no.”
‘Wow. I’m hurt, Hector. Blindly believing everything I say is part of your sacred duty as a servant, you know.’
“Uh-huh...”
‘Gotta say, though. I wasn’t expecting to learn the truth about Nykeir’s sudden disappearance this way. So in the end, he got devoured by a Yigorosk... And a pretty gnarly one, from the sound of it.’
“Gnarly? Were they not all that powerful?”
‘Of course not. Nykeir was probably the strongest servant alive at that time. A normal Yigorosk shouldn’t have been able to touch him. Frankly, while I do find that son of bitch’s death hilarious and well-deserved, I also find this information rather terrifying. A Yigorosk that strong is, uh... not a pleasant thought, given everything else I know about them.’
Saturday, March 16, 2024
Page 3541
In fact, given the relatively close proximity to Warrenhold, Hector began to further wonder if his castle might have some tangential relation to these monuments. Voreese might know more, given that she was Stasya Orlov’s reaper, but from the way that Voreese had talked about her before, Hector had a feeling that the reaper wouldn’t be able to provide many new details. It seemed like, even now, Stasya was still something of a mystery to Voreese.
And as he recalled, Stasya was herself a descendant of the Nykeirian people.
Which was a crazy thing to think about. This fucking prick that had been making Rathmore’s life hell had been such an important historical figure? It felt hard to acknowledge that as even possible, let alone true.
According to Voreese, though, Stasya had not actually been born until after the collapse of the Nykeirian Empire. She’d been “a product of the Mohssian culture,” as the reaper had put it.
Whew. He was feeling a little woozy, all of a sudden. Perhaps he needed a break from this weird-ass memory-diving. And so much the better, since it seemed like he’d reached the end of this memory, anyway.
He opened his eyes again, felt breath in his lungs again, felt his whole body again.
And felt even more woozy, actually, enough to make him stumble backward and fall on his ass.
‘Hector!’ came Garovel’s voice.
Hector had to shake his head a few times before the ground beneath him finally stopped spinning. “Hey, Garovel...”
The reaper gave a silent sigh. ‘Geez. You were gone for quite a while there, buddy. Startin’ to make me worry you’d slipped into another soul coma. I was getting ready to just sit here like an asshole for two weeks, watching you.’
“Ah. Uh. Yeah, sorry about that...” He took his time climbing back to his feet, still feeling a bit drained, like he’d just gotten done with a full body workout. “How long was I out?”
‘A few hours, I think.’
He straightened. “Hours?!”
‘Yeah. Didn’t feel like that for you, I take it?’
“No!”
‘Hmm. Did it feel shorter or longer?’
“I mean, uh--” He had to think about that for a second. “Shit. I only looked at, like, two memories...”
‘So shorter, then.’
“Ugh. I guess I should be more careful about doing that again in the future. I didn’t intend to spend so much time on this.”
‘Well, did you at least learn something new?’
Hector looked at the reaper. “I saw Rathmore.”
And as he recalled, Stasya was herself a descendant of the Nykeirian people.
Which was a crazy thing to think about. This fucking prick that had been making Rathmore’s life hell had been such an important historical figure? It felt hard to acknowledge that as even possible, let alone true.
According to Voreese, though, Stasya had not actually been born until after the collapse of the Nykeirian Empire. She’d been “a product of the Mohssian culture,” as the reaper had put it.
Whew. He was feeling a little woozy, all of a sudden. Perhaps he needed a break from this weird-ass memory-diving. And so much the better, since it seemed like he’d reached the end of this memory, anyway.
He opened his eyes again, felt breath in his lungs again, felt his whole body again.
And felt even more woozy, actually, enough to make him stumble backward and fall on his ass.
‘Hector!’ came Garovel’s voice.
Hector had to shake his head a few times before the ground beneath him finally stopped spinning. “Hey, Garovel...”
The reaper gave a silent sigh. ‘Geez. You were gone for quite a while there, buddy. Startin’ to make me worry you’d slipped into another soul coma. I was getting ready to just sit here like an asshole for two weeks, watching you.’
“Ah. Uh. Yeah, sorry about that...” He took his time climbing back to his feet, still feeling a bit drained, like he’d just gotten done with a full body workout. “How long was I out?”
‘A few hours, I think.’
He straightened. “Hours?!”
‘Yeah. Didn’t feel like that for you, I take it?’
“No!”
‘Hmm. Did it feel shorter or longer?’
“I mean, uh--” He had to think about that for a second. “Shit. I only looked at, like, two memories...”
‘So shorter, then.’
“Ugh. I guess I should be more careful about doing that again in the future. I didn’t intend to spend so much time on this.”
‘Well, did you at least learn something new?’
Hector looked at the reaper. “I saw Rathmore.”
Friday, March 15, 2024
Page 3540
The scene went dead quiet after that, to the point that Hector wondered if that was the end. Everything in sight was silent and still, including Rathmore, who merely stood there, staring at the Gate through which Nykeir had just vanished.
Wait a minute. Had this guy just yelled “Yigorosk?” Hector hadn’t forgotten that name. He still, unfortunately, remembered researching it. A yigorosk was supposed to be mythical creature, infamous for its ooze and tentacles, among other things.
But then... this memory would mean...
Ugh. Hector did not appreciate this kind of confirmation.
At length, Rathmore moved again. He tossed something up into the air and caught it again, then let out a small laugh.
Hector froze the memory there, wanting to get a better look at the object in his hand. Had he had it on him the whole time? Or had he pulled it out of the rubble earlier? Nykeir had seemed quite confident nothing could have survived the forge’s destruction, so what could possibly have--
Ah. Hector recognized the object instantly. A small black pyramid with protrusions on some of its sides.
A Kag. A type of ancient key. He’d seen one just like it back in Himmekel.
Come to think of it, that Kag had been what brought them to the treasure they’d been seeking--and to Malast.
Huh.
Wow. Suddenly, this seemed like the most obvious thing in the world. Like he should have been looking for a Kag all along.
But hold on here. It wasn’t that simple, was it? The Kag in Himmekel had actually been used like a proper key. Diego Redwater had slotted it into a monument--one not unlike the Gate here. But Rathmore, from what Hector had just seen, had not slotted this Kag into anything. Instead, the guy seemed to have just magically activated it in his hand.
That was quite a difference. Hmm.
He rewound the memory in order to check more closely on what Rathmore had been up to when he’d been digging. The man’s blurry hands didn’t make it easy, but eventually, Hector spotted it. A moment where Rathmore did indeed appear to pull something out of the debris.
Yes.
While the forge and everything else in the area had been annihilated, the Gate was not actually the lone survivor. The Kag had endured, too.
Damn. Did that mean these things were made out of the same stuff as the rest of Rathmore’s Materials? Hell, they kinda looked like nightrock, now that Hector was thinking about it, which made him wonder if that was a coincidence.
Wait a minute. Had this guy just yelled “Yigorosk?” Hector hadn’t forgotten that name. He still, unfortunately, remembered researching it. A yigorosk was supposed to be mythical creature, infamous for its ooze and tentacles, among other things.
But then... this memory would mean...
Ugh. Hector did not appreciate this kind of confirmation.
At length, Rathmore moved again. He tossed something up into the air and caught it again, then let out a small laugh.
Hector froze the memory there, wanting to get a better look at the object in his hand. Had he had it on him the whole time? Or had he pulled it out of the rubble earlier? Nykeir had seemed quite confident nothing could have survived the forge’s destruction, so what could possibly have--
Ah. Hector recognized the object instantly. A small black pyramid with protrusions on some of its sides.
A Kag. A type of ancient key. He’d seen one just like it back in Himmekel.
Come to think of it, that Kag had been what brought them to the treasure they’d been seeking--and to Malast.
Huh.
Wow. Suddenly, this seemed like the most obvious thing in the world. Like he should have been looking for a Kag all along.
But hold on here. It wasn’t that simple, was it? The Kag in Himmekel had actually been used like a proper key. Diego Redwater had slotted it into a monument--one not unlike the Gate here. But Rathmore, from what Hector had just seen, had not slotted this Kag into anything. Instead, the guy seemed to have just magically activated it in his hand.
That was quite a difference. Hmm.
He rewound the memory in order to check more closely on what Rathmore had been up to when he’d been digging. The man’s blurry hands didn’t make it easy, but eventually, Hector spotted it. A moment where Rathmore did indeed appear to pull something out of the debris.
Yes.
While the forge and everything else in the area had been annihilated, the Gate was not actually the lone survivor. The Kag had endured, too.
Damn. Did that mean these things were made out of the same stuff as the rest of Rathmore’s Materials? Hell, they kinda looked like nightrock, now that Hector was thinking about it, which made him wonder if that was a coincidence.
Thursday, March 14, 2024
Page 3539
Rathmore breathed deeply and took a step closer. “Lucky am I that you have become such an arrogant, careless fool. Never could I have accomplished this when you were younger.”
Nykeir straightened. “Accomplished what?”
“Curious, are you?” said Rathmore, raising one hand slowly, palm upwards. “Or merely frightened?”
The other man gave an audible sniff. “Go on, Seer. Stupefy me, then. Show me what your Heavenly Sight has seen.”
“I can grant you but a glimpse. ‘Twill be up to you to see anything beyond.”
“Hmph.”
Rathmore’s hand tensed suddenly. “Now, Behold!”
Light gathered into his hand, then burst forth, shooting toward Nykeir and enveloping him.
It clashed against a wall of yellow flame, with Nykeir remaining comfortably in the center, apparently unbothered about being entirely consumed by fire.
“Tell me this is not all,” said Nykeir, his voice distorting from behind the inferno, sounding lower and almost monstrous, as if the flames themselves might be speaking for him.
But indeed, that was not all. Because the light still enveloped the flames, and then bounded backward to the Gate, first touching the smaller rock, then connecting to the larger one. The beam stayed there, bright and strong, linking Rathmore to Nykeir, and Nykeir to the stones.
“Yigorosk!” said Rathmore.
And Hector blinked, in complete disbelief of what he was seeing.
A gargantuan tentacle shot out of the Gate, appearing from the shimmering line of light between two rocks and arcing over Rathmore’s head to slam down on top of Nykeir.
The ground exploded from the impact, filling the area with a cloud of dirt and debris, and Hector had to wait for it to clear. When it did, he saw Nykeir still there, standing within the fire and light, a massive hole burned into the tentacle where it fell upon him.
From his body language, he seemed a bit confused but not terribly concerned. Then he started laughing. “What in the world is this?!” he said happily.
Rather than answering, the light from Rathmore’s hand shone even more intensely, and the burned tentacle shivered and melted into a bluish ooze, which splashed over Nykeir, coating him entirely. The yellow flame and even the light surrounding it were both smothered.
And the tentacle reformed, yanking itself back through the Gate, whereupon it winked out of existence, taking all remaining traces of the light beam with it.
Nykeir straightened. “Accomplished what?”
“Curious, are you?” said Rathmore, raising one hand slowly, palm upwards. “Or merely frightened?”
The other man gave an audible sniff. “Go on, Seer. Stupefy me, then. Show me what your Heavenly Sight has seen.”
“I can grant you but a glimpse. ‘Twill be up to you to see anything beyond.”
“Hmph.”
Rathmore’s hand tensed suddenly. “Now, Behold!”
Light gathered into his hand, then burst forth, shooting toward Nykeir and enveloping him.
It clashed against a wall of yellow flame, with Nykeir remaining comfortably in the center, apparently unbothered about being entirely consumed by fire.
“Tell me this is not all,” said Nykeir, his voice distorting from behind the inferno, sounding lower and almost monstrous, as if the flames themselves might be speaking for him.
But indeed, that was not all. Because the light still enveloped the flames, and then bounded backward to the Gate, first touching the smaller rock, then connecting to the larger one. The beam stayed there, bright and strong, linking Rathmore to Nykeir, and Nykeir to the stones.
“Yigorosk!” said Rathmore.
And Hector blinked, in complete disbelief of what he was seeing.
A gargantuan tentacle shot out of the Gate, appearing from the shimmering line of light between two rocks and arcing over Rathmore’s head to slam down on top of Nykeir.
The ground exploded from the impact, filling the area with a cloud of dirt and debris, and Hector had to wait for it to clear. When it did, he saw Nykeir still there, standing within the fire and light, a massive hole burned into the tentacle where it fell upon him.
From his body language, he seemed a bit confused but not terribly concerned. Then he started laughing. “What in the world is this?!” he said happily.
Rather than answering, the light from Rathmore’s hand shone even more intensely, and the burned tentacle shivered and melted into a bluish ooze, which splashed over Nykeir, coating him entirely. The yellow flame and even the light surrounding it were both smothered.
And the tentacle reformed, yanking itself back through the Gate, whereupon it winked out of existence, taking all remaining traces of the light beam with it.
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