He took in a deep breath and steadied himself, seeing that Worwal was still looking at him. ‘You’re right,’ he told Garovel, and he put the Core back inside his armor. ‘At the very least, we should consult Abbas before pulling another stunt like that.’
‘Mmhmm. And can you imagine how much shit he and Worwal would give us if we just jumped in there, right now? In the middle of the examination, too? We’d look like huge assholes.’
‘Yeah...’
‘But I like your thinking, kid. You’ve got moxie. Don’t lose it, just ‘cuz I’m fightin’ ya on this one.’
Hector frowned inside his helmet. ‘Kid? You’ve never called me kid before.’
‘Yeah, I’m tryin’ it out. Whaddya think?’
‘...I hate it, honestly. From other people, sure. But from you, egh. No.’
The reaper laughed. ‘Alright, fine.’
They decided to wait patiently for Abbas to finish his examination. Hector thought about sitting down and meditating, but it didn’t take much longer for the man to let go of the monument and walk over to them.
‘So what’s the verdict?’ said Garovel publicly.
“It is a magnificent structure,” said Abbas. “The etchings on the surface are almost invisible to the naked eye, but the flow of ardor through them is still pristine. As if they’d been crafted yesterday. That is how you know they are the work of a master integrator. Eliminating all leakage is a thing that even I still struggle with. Fortunately, my work rarely calls for such precision. Machinery will always be in need of repair or refinement, regardless of how much time is spent perfecting the finished product.”
‘...Alright. I’m not too proud to admit that most of that went over my head,’ said Garovel. ‘Was any of that relevant to the issue of creating a new kag?’
“Yes,” said Abbas. “The flawlessness of the etchings will need to be replicated in the kag itself, which will make the project a bit more time-consuming for me. But that is all. I could still manage it in a day. Perhaps a week if I take breaks to work on other projects. You said this was not an urgent matter to you, yes?”
‘We did. Anything else you can tell us about the Gate?’
Abbas’ brow twitched as he eyed Garovel. “You also said this was a long-held project for you. Have you never had anyone else examine this monument?”
Garovel shook his skull. ‘Not this one specifically, no. But others, sure. Many, many years ago.’
▼
Tuesday, November 12, 2024
Monday, November 11, 2024
Page 3719
‘Hector, I’m serious,’ said Garovel. ‘Increasingly, I’m beginning to see the danger we pose to each other. We’re even more alike than I first realized. We both have a very high tolerance for risk. More than that, I think we both find enjoyment in it, too. Like it’s slowly becoming our hobby to risk our lives while flirting with the unknown.’
The reaper’s heavier tone dampened Hector’s spirits a bit, but perhaps that was a good thing. Rationally, he still knew that Garovel was right. And he was being reminded of his meditations again. Of his possible encounter with the Void.
This wasn’t the same as that. The danger didn’t feel nearly so immediate or threatening.
But it wasn’t entirely dissimilar, either.
A background thought process took up the question. Where had these urges come from? Was it from a place of confidence? That seemed wrong, since confidence had always felt like such a foreign concept to him, but... maybe...
He did have a sense that he could control the Living Core. Or at least, keep it in check. And he didn’t feel threatened by Rathomre’s Gate, either. They hardly seemed comparable to the danger posed by something like the Void itself.
Perhaps, then... yes. He did have confidence in himself. That he could handle whatever crazy shit they might stumble into here.
Wow. That really was it, wasn’t it?
Because he didn’t feel like he was actually putting Garovel in danger here.
But he was, wasn’t he? He was playing with things beyond his comprehension.
And not just that, either. Abbas and Worwal were here both here, too. Messing with the Gate in their presence could potentially put them at risk also. Strong as they were, they still deserved consideration for their safety, didn’t they?
Not to mention Warrenhold.
He couldn’t afford to let himself get put into another coma. Warrenhold couldn’t afford it. Not until the Rainlords got back, at the very least.
He was supposed to be a lord. He was supposed to have a sense of responsibility. Not just indulge in whatever sounded fun.
Agh. He could already feel various counterarguments rising to his defense. It wasn’t just about fun, surely. These were calculated risks. Necessary ones, even. They needed to obtain more power. To protect Warrenhold. To protect Atreya. From the likes of Abolish. And more, perhaps.
That path forward was not a gentle one. Not a safe or easy one.
But those were just excuses, weren’t they? Even if there might’ve been some truth to them, it didn’t change the fact that he’d been getting carried away with himself.
The reaper’s heavier tone dampened Hector’s spirits a bit, but perhaps that was a good thing. Rationally, he still knew that Garovel was right. And he was being reminded of his meditations again. Of his possible encounter with the Void.
This wasn’t the same as that. The danger didn’t feel nearly so immediate or threatening.
But it wasn’t entirely dissimilar, either.
A background thought process took up the question. Where had these urges come from? Was it from a place of confidence? That seemed wrong, since confidence had always felt like such a foreign concept to him, but... maybe...
He did have a sense that he could control the Living Core. Or at least, keep it in check. And he didn’t feel threatened by Rathomre’s Gate, either. They hardly seemed comparable to the danger posed by something like the Void itself.
Perhaps, then... yes. He did have confidence in himself. That he could handle whatever crazy shit they might stumble into here.
Wow. That really was it, wasn’t it?
Because he didn’t feel like he was actually putting Garovel in danger here.
But he was, wasn’t he? He was playing with things beyond his comprehension.
And not just that, either. Abbas and Worwal were here both here, too. Messing with the Gate in their presence could potentially put them at risk also. Strong as they were, they still deserved consideration for their safety, didn’t they?
Not to mention Warrenhold.
He couldn’t afford to let himself get put into another coma. Warrenhold couldn’t afford it. Not until the Rainlords got back, at the very least.
He was supposed to be a lord. He was supposed to have a sense of responsibility. Not just indulge in whatever sounded fun.
Agh. He could already feel various counterarguments rising to his defense. It wasn’t just about fun, surely. These were calculated risks. Necessary ones, even. They needed to obtain more power. To protect Warrenhold. To protect Atreya. From the likes of Abolish. And more, perhaps.
That path forward was not a gentle one. Not a safe or easy one.
But those were just excuses, weren’t they? Even if there might’ve been some truth to them, it didn’t change the fact that he’d been getting carried away with himself.
Sunday, November 10, 2024
Page 3718
Smiling to himself, Hector finally did as Garovel initially requested and materialized the dark suit. He stepped a bit closer to Abbas, who had his eyes closed and seemed to be off in his own world.
It wasn’t so long ago that Hector would’ve had no idea what the man was doing, right now. But thanks to the Candle’s memories--and from his own personal experiences, of course--he knew that Abbas was examining the structure of its soul power and/or ardor. And that required intense concentration.
So intense, in fact, that Hector didn’t even want to say anything aloud, in the off chance that it might distract the Lord Saqqaf. It probably wouldn’t, given how well-practiced the man no doubt was at this type of thing, but it still would’ve been impolite.
It was tempting, though. Worwal was floating right there next to the man, observing silently. Hector might’ve liked to ask the reaper for his opinion on the Gate, but he supposed that could be saved for later.
As he kept moving slowly closer, however, a different idea entered into his mind.
He pulled the Living Core out of his armor and eyed it for a moment. Then Rathmore’s Gate. Then the Core again.
Worwal was staring at him now, Hector noticed. The reaper didn’t say anything, though.
Hmm.
‘Hector,’ came Garovel’s private voice again, embedded with a familiarly apprehensive tone. ‘You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?’
‘Depends. What do you think I’m thinking?’
‘I think you’re thinking that using the Living Core to interface with Rathmore’s Gate wouldn’t be an incredibly stupid thing to do.’
‘Hah. Well, you’re wrong, because I definitely know that it would be.’
‘Ah. And you’re thinking about doing it, anyway.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Hector. Haven’t we fulfilled our stupid quota for the day? Trying to interface with the Candle when we had so little information was bad enough, no?’
‘I mean... yeah. You’re right. Obviously.’
A beat passed.
‘But what if we just--?’
‘Hector, stop. Don’t say any more.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’ll say yes! And I don’t want to do that, right now!’
Hector breathed a laugh, trying to keep it quiet.
‘Remember that whole speech that you just gave to Abbas about taking a step back and realizing that you’re actually a big dumbass? I think you should take your own advice. And so should I, frankly.’
‘Aw, c’mon...’
It wasn’t so long ago that Hector would’ve had no idea what the man was doing, right now. But thanks to the Candle’s memories--and from his own personal experiences, of course--he knew that Abbas was examining the structure of its soul power and/or ardor. And that required intense concentration.
So intense, in fact, that Hector didn’t even want to say anything aloud, in the off chance that it might distract the Lord Saqqaf. It probably wouldn’t, given how well-practiced the man no doubt was at this type of thing, but it still would’ve been impolite.
It was tempting, though. Worwal was floating right there next to the man, observing silently. Hector might’ve liked to ask the reaper for his opinion on the Gate, but he supposed that could be saved for later.
As he kept moving slowly closer, however, a different idea entered into his mind.
He pulled the Living Core out of his armor and eyed it for a moment. Then Rathmore’s Gate. Then the Core again.
Worwal was staring at him now, Hector noticed. The reaper didn’t say anything, though.
Hmm.
‘Hector,’ came Garovel’s private voice again, embedded with a familiarly apprehensive tone. ‘You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?’
‘Depends. What do you think I’m thinking?’
‘I think you’re thinking that using the Living Core to interface with Rathmore’s Gate wouldn’t be an incredibly stupid thing to do.’
‘Hah. Well, you’re wrong, because I definitely know that it would be.’
‘Ah. And you’re thinking about doing it, anyway.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Hector. Haven’t we fulfilled our stupid quota for the day? Trying to interface with the Candle when we had so little information was bad enough, no?’
‘I mean... yeah. You’re right. Obviously.’
A beat passed.
‘But what if we just--?’
‘Hector, stop. Don’t say any more.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’ll say yes! And I don’t want to do that, right now!’
Hector breathed a laugh, trying to keep it quiet.
‘Remember that whole speech that you just gave to Abbas about taking a step back and realizing that you’re actually a big dumbass? I think you should take your own advice. And so should I, frankly.’
‘Aw, c’mon...’
Saturday, November 9, 2024
Page 3717
‘Garovel, I just feel like it’s not that important. The armor’s not hard to materialize, so if I don’t think a name fits, then I’ll just go without it.’
‘Yeah, that’s fine for you, but what about me? I wanna call it something cool.’
‘Wow,’ said Hector. ‘Which one of us was three thousand years old again?’
‘I’ll thank you to take your ageism and leave it out of this conversation.’
‘Ageism, huh? You’ve called me young and stupid before. Like a lot.’
‘I said THIS conversation. We can both go back to being ageist in the next one.’
That made Hector chuckle.
A brief silence arrived as they both just continued to watch Abbas from this short distance away.
‘But c’mon. Name. While we’ve got time. Let’s figure this out.’
‘You’re really not gonna let this go, huh?’
‘Maybe if you can distract me with something sufficiently interesting. Can you?’
‘Nothing’s coming to mind.’
‘Name, then. I threw a bunch at you. It’s your turn to suggest one.’
‘Well, uh... hmm. I guess... I kinda feel like a good name would pay homage to the shield that it used to be. So maybe Amir?’
‘Amir, huh? Just Amir?’
‘Yeah, why not? Short and simple.’
‘You know Amir is an actual Valgan name, right? For a person? And a fairly common one, too. It’d be like naming your armor Fred.’
Admittedly, Hector hadn’t thought of it that way. He bobbed his head again and rubbed his chin as he gave it more serious consideration.
‘You are NOT naming your armor Fred, right now.’
‘I mean... I could...’
‘Hector.’
‘What?’
‘That’s dumb.’
‘Why? I can name it what I want, can’t I? No one else will ever even hear it, except us. Probably.’
‘What if you become good friends with a guy named Fred at some point, huh? Or Amir, for that matter? It’ll be needlessly confusing.’
‘Hmm. That’s a good point. So I should just always be rude to any Freds or Amirs, then...’
It was the reaper’s turn to laugh. ‘If you want the name to have some sort of sentimental meaning, then perhaps you should ask Abbas or Haqq about why they named it Amir. Just in case there’s some context we’re missing.’
‘Good idea. Plus, that’ll let me put off making this decision for a little longer, too.’
‘You’re really obnoxious sometimes, you know that?’
‘Whoa. That’s pretty mean, Garovel.’
‘If you don’t decide soon, I’m just gonna start calling it the Darksteel Armor on my own, because fuck you.’
‘Yeah, that’s fine for you, but what about me? I wanna call it something cool.’
‘Wow,’ said Hector. ‘Which one of us was three thousand years old again?’
‘I’ll thank you to take your ageism and leave it out of this conversation.’
‘Ageism, huh? You’ve called me young and stupid before. Like a lot.’
‘I said THIS conversation. We can both go back to being ageist in the next one.’
That made Hector chuckle.
A brief silence arrived as they both just continued to watch Abbas from this short distance away.
‘But c’mon. Name. While we’ve got time. Let’s figure this out.’
‘You’re really not gonna let this go, huh?’
‘Maybe if you can distract me with something sufficiently interesting. Can you?’
‘Nothing’s coming to mind.’
‘Name, then. I threw a bunch at you. It’s your turn to suggest one.’
‘Well, uh... hmm. I guess... I kinda feel like a good name would pay homage to the shield that it used to be. So maybe Amir?’
‘Amir, huh? Just Amir?’
‘Yeah, why not? Short and simple.’
‘You know Amir is an actual Valgan name, right? For a person? And a fairly common one, too. It’d be like naming your armor Fred.’
Admittedly, Hector hadn’t thought of it that way. He bobbed his head again and rubbed his chin as he gave it more serious consideration.
‘You are NOT naming your armor Fred, right now.’
‘I mean... I could...’
‘Hector.’
‘What?’
‘That’s dumb.’
‘Why? I can name it what I want, can’t I? No one else will ever even hear it, except us. Probably.’
‘What if you become good friends with a guy named Fred at some point, huh? Or Amir, for that matter? It’ll be needlessly confusing.’
‘Hmm. That’s a good point. So I should just always be rude to any Freds or Amirs, then...’
It was the reaper’s turn to laugh. ‘If you want the name to have some sort of sentimental meaning, then perhaps you should ask Abbas or Haqq about why they named it Amir. Just in case there’s some context we’re missing.’
‘Good idea. Plus, that’ll let me put off making this decision for a little longer, too.’
‘You’re really obnoxious sometimes, you know that?’
‘Whoa. That’s pretty mean, Garovel.’
‘If you don’t decide soon, I’m just gonna start calling it the Darksteel Armor on my own, because fuck you.’
Friday, November 8, 2024
Page 3716
How many times did he have to do something incredibly stupid before he finally started remembering that he should leave his phone behind? He felt especially dumb here, knowing that they were already planning to return to the Forge, where he could have safely left it.
He could already picture the judgmental look on Ms. Rogers’ face when he told her that he needed another replacement.
Ah well. Problems for later.
As Hector moved toward the Gate, Garovel decided to speak up privately from inside Hector’s armor.
‘Hey, make the Darksteel Armor before you get any closer. I find it much cozier to hide in.’
‘...What did you just call it?’
‘The Darksteel Armor. It still needs a name, right? And that one seems pretty much perfect to me.’
Hmm. Well, the reaper did have a point. Hector had been meaning to give it a name for a while now, if only to make it even easier to materialize. Zeff and Asad had both mentioned that naming techniques was good for that purpose, but Hector hadn’t fallen in love with any of the things he’d come up with so far. Plus, it hadn’t exactly been a priority. The dark armor was already pretty easy to materialize, he felt.
‘I don’t know,’ said Hector. ‘Naming it after myself just feels kinda... douchey. Y’know?’
The reaper gave an echoing chortle. ‘But it’s so fitting, though! It’s both dark and steel! Ish!’
‘Ish? Steel-ish? I feel like if you have to add an -ish, then it might not actually be that fitting, Garovel.’
‘Agh, fine. Name it something else, then. Anything. I just want to call it something other than ‘the dark suit.’ That sounds way too generic and vague.’
‘Uh... hmm...’
‘How about the Shadowsteel Armor?’
‘I... actually don’t hate that.’
‘Yeah? It’s settled, then!’
‘Hold on, I didn’t say yes. Just that I kinda liked it.’
‘What do you mean? That’s the same thing, Hector. Those are equivalent statements.’
‘Nuh-uh. Saying that I like it just means that I think you’re... er... heading in the right direction, I guess.’
The reaper sighed. ‘Alright. Not Shadowsteel. Just the Shadow Armor, then?’
Hector bobbed his head a little to both sides, then shook it. ‘Nah, I don’t like that one as much. Sounds kinda... I don’t know...’
‘Then how about the Nightsteel Armor? You like the steel part of the name, right?’
‘I... kinda don’t, actually.’
‘Huh? You don’t? But you just--what? Why not?’
‘I dunno.’
‘Just the Night Armor, then?’
‘...Eh.’
‘Hector. Quit being a picky bitch.’
‘...No.’
‘Oh, my god.’
He could already picture the judgmental look on Ms. Rogers’ face when he told her that he needed another replacement.
Ah well. Problems for later.
As Hector moved toward the Gate, Garovel decided to speak up privately from inside Hector’s armor.
‘Hey, make the Darksteel Armor before you get any closer. I find it much cozier to hide in.’
‘...What did you just call it?’
‘The Darksteel Armor. It still needs a name, right? And that one seems pretty much perfect to me.’
Hmm. Well, the reaper did have a point. Hector had been meaning to give it a name for a while now, if only to make it even easier to materialize. Zeff and Asad had both mentioned that naming techniques was good for that purpose, but Hector hadn’t fallen in love with any of the things he’d come up with so far. Plus, it hadn’t exactly been a priority. The dark armor was already pretty easy to materialize, he felt.
‘I don’t know,’ said Hector. ‘Naming it after myself just feels kinda... douchey. Y’know?’
The reaper gave an echoing chortle. ‘But it’s so fitting, though! It’s both dark and steel! Ish!’
‘Ish? Steel-ish? I feel like if you have to add an -ish, then it might not actually be that fitting, Garovel.’
‘Agh, fine. Name it something else, then. Anything. I just want to call it something other than ‘the dark suit.’ That sounds way too generic and vague.’
‘Uh... hmm...’
‘How about the Shadowsteel Armor?’
‘I... actually don’t hate that.’
‘Yeah? It’s settled, then!’
‘Hold on, I didn’t say yes. Just that I kinda liked it.’
‘What do you mean? That’s the same thing, Hector. Those are equivalent statements.’
‘Nuh-uh. Saying that I like it just means that I think you’re... er... heading in the right direction, I guess.’
The reaper sighed. ‘Alright. Not Shadowsteel. Just the Shadow Armor, then?’
Hector bobbed his head a little to both sides, then shook it. ‘Nah, I don’t like that one as much. Sounds kinda... I don’t know...’
‘Then how about the Nightsteel Armor? You like the steel part of the name, right?’
‘I... kinda don’t, actually.’
‘Huh? You don’t? But you just--what? Why not?’
‘I dunno.’
‘Just the Night Armor, then?’
‘...Eh.’
‘Hector. Quit being a picky bitch.’
‘...No.’
‘Oh, my god.’
Thursday, November 7, 2024
Page 3715
He wanted to see how his normal iron armor truly compared to the dark suit in this particular scenario. It seemed to him that it wouldn’t make much difference at all, since the aforementioned g-forces that his body was being subjected to would be the same.
But again, he didn’t know much about g-forces to begin with. So maybe it would have made a difference? Or maybe the suit had some other component to its protective capabilities that he did not yet fully understand?
It did give him a strange sort of feeling in that regard. An extra layer of comfort--in his mind, at least. But that very well could have just been his own messed up head playing tricks on him. In fact, that was quite probably the case, Hector thought. Even his iron armor often made him feel more comfortable than normal clothes did.
There was just something so calming about wearing armor. He didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe there simply wasn’t a way to.
Regardless, the iron suit worked about as well he’d expected it to. Which was to say: not very.
It didn’t take them very long to reach the Carthrace Nature Reserve, wherein stood Rathmore’s Gate, but by the end of the trip, Hector felt like his whole body had turned to jelly. It didn’t hurt, thanks to Garovel numbing the pain for him, but he’d experienced this type of wobbly sensation many times before, and it always meant that he had a lot of broken bones. Hell, maybe all of them.
That seemed rather unlikely, though, knowing what he now did about how many bones there were in just the hands and feet.
Eh, he was letting these spare thought processes go off in weird directions. Time to focus, he decided.
After being gently set on the ground by Abbas, Hector immediately did his best impression of an unfolded pile of laundry, crumpling into an iron heap. His foremost thought process was disoriented beyond all recognition, but thanks to the others, he was at least able to observe as Abbas moved toward the Gate on his own.
The man seemed to be taking his time in his approach, walking slowly around it before finally getting close enough to touch it. By the time he actually made physical contact, Hector had regenerated enough to walk again.
He double-checked everything he was carrying. Shard. Scarf. Core. Phone. Oh, that was broken. Of course it was. Dammit.
But again, he didn’t know much about g-forces to begin with. So maybe it would have made a difference? Or maybe the suit had some other component to its protective capabilities that he did not yet fully understand?
It did give him a strange sort of feeling in that regard. An extra layer of comfort--in his mind, at least. But that very well could have just been his own messed up head playing tricks on him. In fact, that was quite probably the case, Hector thought. Even his iron armor often made him feel more comfortable than normal clothes did.
There was just something so calming about wearing armor. He didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe there simply wasn’t a way to.
Regardless, the iron suit worked about as well he’d expected it to. Which was to say: not very.
It didn’t take them very long to reach the Carthrace Nature Reserve, wherein stood Rathmore’s Gate, but by the end of the trip, Hector felt like his whole body had turned to jelly. It didn’t hurt, thanks to Garovel numbing the pain for him, but he’d experienced this type of wobbly sensation many times before, and it always meant that he had a lot of broken bones. Hell, maybe all of them.
That seemed rather unlikely, though, knowing what he now did about how many bones there were in just the hands and feet.
Eh, he was letting these spare thought processes go off in weird directions. Time to focus, he decided.
After being gently set on the ground by Abbas, Hector immediately did his best impression of an unfolded pile of laundry, crumpling into an iron heap. His foremost thought process was disoriented beyond all recognition, but thanks to the others, he was at least able to observe as Abbas moved toward the Gate on his own.
The man seemed to be taking his time in his approach, walking slowly around it before finally getting close enough to touch it. By the time he actually made physical contact, Hector had regenerated enough to walk again.
He double-checked everything he was carrying. Shard. Scarf. Core. Phone. Oh, that was broken. Of course it was. Dammit.
Wednesday, November 6, 2024
Page 3714 -- CCCV.
When he was ready, Abbas stomped back outside, grabbed the young Lord Darksteel with one hand, pulled him under his arm, and used his strengthened legs in order to gain distance from the grassy earth before rocketing away at a medium burn. No sense in following Hector’s example and leaving another fire behind for Raheem or someone else to put out.
Once he had sufficient altitude, he cranked up the burn to eighty percent. He was tempted to go for the full hundred, of course, but after the recent tweaks he’d made to the fusion-propulsion system, he expected the jets to be slightly more powerful than before. And as he had yet to actually test them, it would have been rather irresponsible to do so now, when he had a passenger with him.
...But on the other hand, he was quite certain that the new calculations were correct, and even if they weren’t, the built-in fail-safes meant there was zero risk of accidentally instigating antimatter reactions.
Well.
Mathematically zero.
Yeah. He should just go for it. Hector was undead, and time was wasting, after all.
Chapter Three Hundred Five: ‘Thy distant coruscations...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Well, this wasn’t how he’d been expecting the day to unfold. Being carried like a sack of potatoes through the sky was one thing. Doing it while also breaking the sound barrier was quite another.
Hector didn’t know much about g-forces, but after feeling like he’d been hit by a truck and passing out--or perhaps dying, actually--and then later waking back up again, he resolved to add that to his list of things that he needed to learn more about.
In fact, he’d been meaning to do that ever since his flight with Dimas Sebolt back during the battle at the Lorent-Callum border, when they’d flown to Hahl Saqqaf’s aid. That had been quite the experience, too--and not entirely dissimilar to this current one. It just hadn’t been nearly as intense, though the fight had that followed it more than made up for that discrepancy.
Admittedly, he could have prepared himself a bit better, but Hector wanted to test something of his own during this trip. He figured that they would have to do this twice--to the Gate and then back again--so for the first one, he made the rather haphazard decision to not materialize his newer, more powerful armor.
Once he had sufficient altitude, he cranked up the burn to eighty percent. He was tempted to go for the full hundred, of course, but after the recent tweaks he’d made to the fusion-propulsion system, he expected the jets to be slightly more powerful than before. And as he had yet to actually test them, it would have been rather irresponsible to do so now, when he had a passenger with him.
...But on the other hand, he was quite certain that the new calculations were correct, and even if they weren’t, the built-in fail-safes meant there was zero risk of accidentally instigating antimatter reactions.
Well.
Mathematically zero.
Yeah. He should just go for it. Hector was undead, and time was wasting, after all.
Chapter Three Hundred Five: ‘Thy distant coruscations...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Well, this wasn’t how he’d been expecting the day to unfold. Being carried like a sack of potatoes through the sky was one thing. Doing it while also breaking the sound barrier was quite another.
Hector didn’t know much about g-forces, but after feeling like he’d been hit by a truck and passing out--or perhaps dying, actually--and then later waking back up again, he resolved to add that to his list of things that he needed to learn more about.
In fact, he’d been meaning to do that ever since his flight with Dimas Sebolt back during the battle at the Lorent-Callum border, when they’d flown to Hahl Saqqaf’s aid. That had been quite the experience, too--and not entirely dissimilar to this current one. It just hadn’t been nearly as intense, though the fight had that followed it more than made up for that discrepancy.
Admittedly, he could have prepared himself a bit better, but Hector wanted to test something of his own during this trip. He figured that they would have to do this twice--to the Gate and then back again--so for the first one, he made the rather haphazard decision to not materialize his newer, more powerful armor.
Next page at noon
Just want a little more time. Thanks, everybody.
EDIT: Okay, I might need another hour or two, but I will post it soon. Promise. I'M NOT MISSING A DAY. I SWEAR. Well, not today, anyway.
EDIT: Okay, I might need another hour or two, but I will post it soon. Promise. I'M NOT MISSING A DAY. I SWEAR. Well, not today, anyway.
Tuesday, November 5, 2024
Page 3713
Hector was sighing again. Exasperated, no doubt.
Understandable. A part of Abbas sympathized. Related, even. A shadow of a memory tickled the back of his mind. Time spent with his mentors. They’d often behaved unreasonably in his presence. Been too caught up in their work to pay much attention to anything else. Dolf, in particular.
So perhaps that shadow of memory should have given him pause. Made him reevaluate his current actions. Made him hesitant.
But it didn’t. He gave it almost no consideration at all.
Instead, perhaps there was something ever so slightly invigorating about it. A whisper of nostalgia.
A fondness for those eccentric masters of old.
He could feel, in some small way, a kinship with them. Many times over the course of his life, he had struggled hard in his studies and his work just for the mere opportunity to feel that way. To feel a modicum of worthiness when comparing himself against their incredible legacies.
They’d simply been too great. Too brilliant.
But here and now, despite barely even being able to acknowledge it, he did feel it. Perhaps more strongly than ever, in fact.
The feeling that he was ready. Finally. To match them. To make them proud.
By the time he made it to the tree, he was raring to go. He had a preliminary overview of the suit’s working condition already in his head, in accordance with his last memory of its operation. True, that had been a few days ago, but it was still quite clear to him. As long as nothing had changed with it while he’d been unconscious, everything should have been fine.
Overgrown branches were indeed all over the place, but Abbas just pushed through them without hesitation. Was Worwal enhancing his strength? He wasn’t even sure. Didn’t matter. He reached the armor quickly and set about entering it.
In the past, that had been a point of great difficulty. Laborious and time-consuming. But efficiency had become a priority of late, and in just the past few weeks, he had managed to improve his speed putting it on by over fifty percent.
Hector offered to help him with it, but Abbas refused. It would have been a needless distraction and probably made things go slower.
The donning of the helmet was done last. Allowing it to drill through his skull and into his brain was a sometimes-risky endeavor, rendering him briefly unconscious if he messed it up. Thankfully, that hadn’t happened in a while.
Understandable. A part of Abbas sympathized. Related, even. A shadow of a memory tickled the back of his mind. Time spent with his mentors. They’d often behaved unreasonably in his presence. Been too caught up in their work to pay much attention to anything else. Dolf, in particular.
So perhaps that shadow of memory should have given him pause. Made him reevaluate his current actions. Made him hesitant.
But it didn’t. He gave it almost no consideration at all.
Instead, perhaps there was something ever so slightly invigorating about it. A whisper of nostalgia.
A fondness for those eccentric masters of old.
He could feel, in some small way, a kinship with them. Many times over the course of his life, he had struggled hard in his studies and his work just for the mere opportunity to feel that way. To feel a modicum of worthiness when comparing himself against their incredible legacies.
They’d simply been too great. Too brilliant.
But here and now, despite barely even being able to acknowledge it, he did feel it. Perhaps more strongly than ever, in fact.
The feeling that he was ready. Finally. To match them. To make them proud.
By the time he made it to the tree, he was raring to go. He had a preliminary overview of the suit’s working condition already in his head, in accordance with his last memory of its operation. True, that had been a few days ago, but it was still quite clear to him. As long as nothing had changed with it while he’d been unconscious, everything should have been fine.
Overgrown branches were indeed all over the place, but Abbas just pushed through them without hesitation. Was Worwal enhancing his strength? He wasn’t even sure. Didn’t matter. He reached the armor quickly and set about entering it.
In the past, that had been a point of great difficulty. Laborious and time-consuming. But efficiency had become a priority of late, and in just the past few weeks, he had managed to improve his speed putting it on by over fifty percent.
Hector offered to help him with it, but Abbas refused. It would have been a needless distraction and probably made things go slower.
The donning of the helmet was done last. Allowing it to drill through his skull and into his brain was a sometimes-risky endeavor, rendering him briefly unconscious if he messed it up. Thankfully, that hadn’t happened in a while.
Monday, November 4, 2024
Page 3712
“Uh--h-hold on a second there--” tried Hector.
Abbas was already pushing past the flaps into the cool air of the Imara Forest. It smelled rather nice out here, but he paid it no mind at all, instead focusing on where his armor was in relation to their current position. It would have been in the tree with him when--ah.
A worrisome thought. But it should’ve survived whatever mayhem the Core instigated. He turned to his right. The southern horizon. Where the Imara Forest gave way to the grassy landscape of the great tree. Not too far away. He started walking.
New voices arrived in his ear. Familiar ones. His many children and cousins. His beloved Hahl.
He didn’t stop walking.
“I am fine,” he said in Valgan for them. “I will return shortly. Alert me if an attack arrives.”
More voices. Many more. Some raised. But none angry. Just concerned. And none talking to him of imminent danger.
He needed not pay more attention than that. All was well. Or well enough, at least. For now.
He could concentrate on the work to be done. That was good. There was much to do.
Someone was following him. Several people, actually. Worwal was running interference for him, though. Assuaging their worries, no doubt. Helpful.
His mind was on the suit. On its current specs. He’d been tweaking it little by little. The Core had been intended as a bigger step in that effort, but it seemed to have been a failure in that regard. Disappointing, but not outside expectations. The next attempt would be better. After this trip to the Gate. In fact, depending on what he found, things might speed along even faster.
Shouldn’t get his hopes up, though. Too soon to know.
Ah, one of the followers was being persistent. Hector? Of course it was him. He was saying something, too.
Important?
Expressing reservations.
No, then.
Ah, but Abbas realized that he still needed to ask the boy something.
“What are the coordinates of Rathmore’s Gate?” said Abbas.
“Oh, I--uh--coordinates? Er, I don’t--er--”
“Quickly now, Hector. Time is short.”
The boy exhaled. “Agh, I don’t know coordinates. Do I look like a map? Garovel?”
‘Just bring us with you,’ said the reaper. ‘Hector can’t fly as fast as your suit can, so that’ll be fastest.’
“Garovel, please, for the love of--”
“Very well,” said Abbas.
Abbas was already pushing past the flaps into the cool air of the Imara Forest. It smelled rather nice out here, but he paid it no mind at all, instead focusing on where his armor was in relation to their current position. It would have been in the tree with him when--ah.
A worrisome thought. But it should’ve survived whatever mayhem the Core instigated. He turned to his right. The southern horizon. Where the Imara Forest gave way to the grassy landscape of the great tree. Not too far away. He started walking.
New voices arrived in his ear. Familiar ones. His many children and cousins. His beloved Hahl.
He didn’t stop walking.
“I am fine,” he said in Valgan for them. “I will return shortly. Alert me if an attack arrives.”
More voices. Many more. Some raised. But none angry. Just concerned. And none talking to him of imminent danger.
He needed not pay more attention than that. All was well. Or well enough, at least. For now.
He could concentrate on the work to be done. That was good. There was much to do.
Someone was following him. Several people, actually. Worwal was running interference for him, though. Assuaging their worries, no doubt. Helpful.
His mind was on the suit. On its current specs. He’d been tweaking it little by little. The Core had been intended as a bigger step in that effort, but it seemed to have been a failure in that regard. Disappointing, but not outside expectations. The next attempt would be better. After this trip to the Gate. In fact, depending on what he found, things might speed along even faster.
Shouldn’t get his hopes up, though. Too soon to know.
Ah, one of the followers was being persistent. Hector? Of course it was him. He was saying something, too.
Important?
Expressing reservations.
No, then.
Ah, but Abbas realized that he still needed to ask the boy something.
“What are the coordinates of Rathmore’s Gate?” said Abbas.
“Oh, I--uh--coordinates? Er, I don’t--er--”
“Quickly now, Hector. Time is short.”
The boy exhaled. “Agh, I don’t know coordinates. Do I look like a map? Garovel?”
‘Just bring us with you,’ said the reaper. ‘Hector can’t fly as fast as your suit can, so that’ll be fastest.’
“Garovel, please, for the love of--”
“Very well,” said Abbas.
Friday, November 1, 2024
Next page on the 4th
Thanks for reading, everyone. Hope you had a good Halloween. Or failing that, a good day. Or failing, a good couple hours.