“I don’t think that I do,” said Morgunov, though that wasn’t entirely true. “You’re tryin’ to tell me that there’s some grand, invisible force that’s been creating great geniuses throughout history? And that only one can exist at a time? Why would that be true? Seems pretty inefficient to me. If the goal is to create Order, then the more brilliant minds there are, the better. Limiting it all to just one, singular dude sounds stupid as hell.”
“I never said Order was smart, now did I?”
“Oh, c’mon, that’s the best you’ve got? You’re supposed to be the greatest liar in the world, aren’t you? Come up with something more convincing!”
“What could be more convincing than the simple truth?”
“Eheh, oh, please. The best liars are able use the truth as if it were a lie--and vice versa. Think I’m not aware of that? Gotta say, you’re really leavin’ me quite unimpressed with your abilities so far, fella. Fumblin’ the bag, as the youngins like to say!”
“Well, I did tell you from the beginning that you were overestimating me.”
“Aha! True enough!”
“But alright. I cannot claim to know what Order is thinking--or if it even thinks anything at all, for that matter--but I do feel that you are misconceiving something. A true Fury is able to take inspiration from their contemporaries, as well. Not just from those in the past. So your idea that more would be better is rather moot.”
“Hmm.”
“Additionally, would more actually be better? They do say that too many cooks spoil the broth, no? Perhaps Order believes something similar.”
Dang it, that was actually a good point.
Morgunov still had more to follow up on, though. “Okay, so the Furies are, what, the greatest minds of their eras? And yet you also told me that I’m not one of ‘em? How can I not qualify, huh? After all I’ve done! That hardly seems fair!”
“‘Tis not a matter of intellect alone.” A beat passed. “Though I’m sure you would be found wanting there, as well.”
“Eheh, ouch! So what else factors in, then, hmm?”
“Personality, of course. Temperament. Desires of the heart and soul.”
“You sayin’ I’m not pure of heart?”
“Not at all. Your heart is perhaps the purest black I’ve ever seen.”
“Really? Ever? You’ve known some real mean buggers from across all the Ages, haven’t you? And yet you honestly think I’m the worst?”
“Yes. I do.”
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.
Monday, April 29, 2024
Sunday, April 28, 2024
Page 3576
“How did you get your hands on the Vessel, anyway?” said Germal. “It should have been guarded by a cluster of feldeaths.”
“Oh, you knew that, huh?” And a thought struck him. “Wait a minute! Don’t tell me! You went and tried to grab it yourself, didn’t you?! Only to find it missing after putting yourself in so much danger! Ahaha! That’s what happened, isn’t it?!”
Germal said no response, which prompted Morgunov to just keep laughing.
“That’s excellent!” said the Mad Demon. “Wish I’d been there to see you scurrying about like a scared mouse!”
“Tell me how you snuck it out,” said Germal.
“Curious, eh? Alright, fine. I lured a clew of worms over to distract the big fellas for me while I made off with the spoils. Which involved more than just the Vessel, by the way. In fact, I’d nearly forgotten about that old thing until you brought it up.”
“Ah...”
“So there. Satisfied yet?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good! Then we can be done with this whole thing and get back to the real world!”
“You have no further questions for me?” said Germal.
Morgunov paused. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to get back to ripping this guy in half as soon as possible, but he supposed he shouldn’t waste this opportunity while he had it. Plus, something else was occurring to him. “If you’re saying that, then you must have additional things to ask, mm?”
“Perhaps so. You are a font of knowledge, Demon. I should like to make use of you while I still can.”
“Ooh. A threat and flattery. What a charming devil you are, Germy. In that case, I’ll indulge you a bit longer. Tell me. What are the Furies, exactly? How do you define them?”
“I’m surprised you do not already know that.”
“Mayhaps I do. But I still want to know what your twisted and stupid perspective is.”
“Kehe. The Furies, dear Demon, are the great agents of Order. They are a troublesome collective that span the breadth of history, often linked together unwittingly. They are one--and also many.”
“Hmm. One and many, huh?”
“The collective supports the one. The emergent head of a given era. Only one exists at a time. It becomes the focal point to which flows all the troublesome toils of the others. And when the head is slain, another inevitably emerges. A hydra, of sorts. I am certain that you know exactly what I speak of. And that I am not lying, yes?”
“Oh, you knew that, huh?” And a thought struck him. “Wait a minute! Don’t tell me! You went and tried to grab it yourself, didn’t you?! Only to find it missing after putting yourself in so much danger! Ahaha! That’s what happened, isn’t it?!”
Germal said no response, which prompted Morgunov to just keep laughing.
“That’s excellent!” said the Mad Demon. “Wish I’d been there to see you scurrying about like a scared mouse!”
“Tell me how you snuck it out,” said Germal.
“Curious, eh? Alright, fine. I lured a clew of worms over to distract the big fellas for me while I made off with the spoils. Which involved more than just the Vessel, by the way. In fact, I’d nearly forgotten about that old thing until you brought it up.”
“Ah...”
“So there. Satisfied yet?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good! Then we can be done with this whole thing and get back to the real world!”
“You have no further questions for me?” said Germal.
Morgunov paused. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to get back to ripping this guy in half as soon as possible, but he supposed he shouldn’t waste this opportunity while he had it. Plus, something else was occurring to him. “If you’re saying that, then you must have additional things to ask, mm?”
“Perhaps so. You are a font of knowledge, Demon. I should like to make use of you while I still can.”
“Ooh. A threat and flattery. What a charming devil you are, Germy. In that case, I’ll indulge you a bit longer. Tell me. What are the Furies, exactly? How do you define them?”
“I’m surprised you do not already know that.”
“Mayhaps I do. But I still want to know what your twisted and stupid perspective is.”
“Kehe. The Furies, dear Demon, are the great agents of Order. They are a troublesome collective that span the breadth of history, often linked together unwittingly. They are one--and also many.”
“Hmm. One and many, huh?”
“The collective supports the one. The emergent head of a given era. Only one exists at a time. It becomes the focal point to which flows all the troublesome toils of the others. And when the head is slain, another inevitably emerges. A hydra, of sorts. I am certain that you know exactly what I speak of. And that I am not lying, yes?”
Saturday, April 27, 2024
Page 3575
“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.
“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.
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...’
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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.
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