A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every day at noon PST by ~400 words.
Tuesday, September 30, 2025
Monday, September 29, 2025
Page 3953
The Sickness was a famous enough historical event that no one here needed to ask for elaboration about it. In fact, Hector recalled Garovel bringing it up once before, and elaboration hadn’t been needed back then, either.
Hector often felt like he hadn’t learned much from school--mostly due to his own bad habits as a student--but the Great Green Sickness was certainly an exception. The lessons about it in middle school had left a lasting impression.
The population of the entire world was halved in the span of a single year--then halved again over the next three years. The Sickness was so pernicious, in fact, that even after the initial waves of devastation, it still continued to cause an overall population decline for another decade before new births finally began to outpace deaths again.
The most horrifying thing about it, however, was the slow creep of its approach. There was a visible change in the victim’s skin, turning it gradually greener and greener, long before any of the truly debilitating symptoms arrived. Some people would be green for months or even years, living otherwise normal lives.
Which caused dramatic civil unrest.
There arose an entire class of green “untouchables.” Despite many of them being perfectly able-bodied for quite a while longer, they were ostracized from the rest of society. Rich or poor, it made little difference, since there was no cure to be found for any amount of money. In some regions of the world, the “dead men walking” even became strangely influential in their own way, growing large enough as a group that they could advocate for themselves politically, despite the attempts to excise them from society entirely.
Such instances were rare, though. They made for exceptional and interesting stories in the textbooks that Hector had read, but more often than not, the sick simply suffered and died in agony.
Here and now, Hector found himself questioning how much of that he remembered from school or from the Candle’s memories. Most of that was from school, he felt. But certainly, the memories from the Candle were making that knowledge a lot more... visceral in his mind.
He had a rather strong feeling that, if he meditated on it, he would discover many terrible images and scenes from that time period. It did have an easy visual distinction from other plagues, after all.
He had to consciously avoid getting sucked into that train of thought, right now.
Hector often felt like he hadn’t learned much from school--mostly due to his own bad habits as a student--but the Great Green Sickness was certainly an exception. The lessons about it in middle school had left a lasting impression.
The population of the entire world was halved in the span of a single year--then halved again over the next three years. The Sickness was so pernicious, in fact, that even after the initial waves of devastation, it still continued to cause an overall population decline for another decade before new births finally began to outpace deaths again.
The most horrifying thing about it, however, was the slow creep of its approach. There was a visible change in the victim’s skin, turning it gradually greener and greener, long before any of the truly debilitating symptoms arrived. Some people would be green for months or even years, living otherwise normal lives.
Which caused dramatic civil unrest.
There arose an entire class of green “untouchables.” Despite many of them being perfectly able-bodied for quite a while longer, they were ostracized from the rest of society. Rich or poor, it made little difference, since there was no cure to be found for any amount of money. In some regions of the world, the “dead men walking” even became strangely influential in their own way, growing large enough as a group that they could advocate for themselves politically, despite the attempts to excise them from society entirely.
Such instances were rare, though. They made for exceptional and interesting stories in the textbooks that Hector had read, but more often than not, the sick simply suffered and died in agony.
Here and now, Hector found himself questioning how much of that he remembered from school or from the Candle’s memories. Most of that was from school, he felt. But certainly, the memories from the Candle were making that knowledge a lot more... visceral in his mind.
He had a rather strong feeling that, if he meditated on it, he would discover many terrible images and scenes from that time period. It did have an easy visual distinction from other plagues, after all.
He had to consciously avoid getting sucked into that train of thought, right now.
Sunday, September 28, 2025
Saturday, September 27, 2025
Page 3952
In a background thought process, Hector kept reaching out with the Scarf, trying to discern any movement or abnormal shapes, but thus far, everything seemed quite still out there. Piles of rocks. Collapsed buildings, maybe? Or just natural accumulations. It did strike him as a bit odd that he couldn’t sense any actual buildings around them. This was supposed to be the old imperial capital, right?
And if they were just underneath modern day Andeyal, then shouldn’t this place be pretty well-preserved?
Thankfully, Selena Cortes asked the question that was already on Hector’s mind. “What happened to this place?” she said. “How did it end up all... abandoned and haunted?”
‘This city has a long history of profound misfortune,’ said Garovel. ‘During the early days of the Mohssian Empire, Andeyal came under siege twice a year for... oh, two or three decades straight. The people here endured a lot, and it really affected the character of the city as a whole. The way they viewed themselves, that is. Andeyalans became a whole different breed, you might say. Tough of spirit, courageous and proud, but also pessimistic and somber. “Warriors of Sorrow” was what some called them. Even the civilians.
‘The reason they burrowed underground like this was to protect themselves from those very sieges, and then, even after the attacks stopped, much of the culture stayed down here, as it had taken on a life and identity of its own. Even some of the Mohssian emperors decided to remain down here, supposedly because they felt that this was where the true heart of the empire resided.’
‘Propaganda,’ said Voreese. ‘They just felt safer down here, since political assassinations were commonplace in those days. Everybody thought they could kill their way into becoming the next emperor.’
‘A couple of them did,’ said Rezolo.
‘True,’ said Voreese. ‘But that didn’t work out very well for them in the end, now did it?’
Garovel snickered. ‘It’s tough to rule with an iron fist for very long when us uppity reapers can convert any random civilian into a deadly, superhuman assassin in only a few short months.’
‘Yep,’ said Voreese. ‘And many of us are petty, grudge-holding bastards with strong political opinions and a lot of free time on our hands.’
Hector couldn’t help feeling slightly horrified at the picture they were painting.
‘But anyway,’ said Garovel, ‘my point was that things were turbulent down here from the beginning. Even “peace time” wasn’t really that peaceful. But that all changed when the Great Green Sickness came along.’
And if they were just underneath modern day Andeyal, then shouldn’t this place be pretty well-preserved?
Thankfully, Selena Cortes asked the question that was already on Hector’s mind. “What happened to this place?” she said. “How did it end up all... abandoned and haunted?”
‘This city has a long history of profound misfortune,’ said Garovel. ‘During the early days of the Mohssian Empire, Andeyal came under siege twice a year for... oh, two or three decades straight. The people here endured a lot, and it really affected the character of the city as a whole. The way they viewed themselves, that is. Andeyalans became a whole different breed, you might say. Tough of spirit, courageous and proud, but also pessimistic and somber. “Warriors of Sorrow” was what some called them. Even the civilians.
‘The reason they burrowed underground like this was to protect themselves from those very sieges, and then, even after the attacks stopped, much of the culture stayed down here, as it had taken on a life and identity of its own. Even some of the Mohssian emperors decided to remain down here, supposedly because they felt that this was where the true heart of the empire resided.’
‘Propaganda,’ said Voreese. ‘They just felt safer down here, since political assassinations were commonplace in those days. Everybody thought they could kill their way into becoming the next emperor.’
‘A couple of them did,’ said Rezolo.
‘True,’ said Voreese. ‘But that didn’t work out very well for them in the end, now did it?’
Garovel snickered. ‘It’s tough to rule with an iron fist for very long when us uppity reapers can convert any random civilian into a deadly, superhuman assassin in only a few short months.’
‘Yep,’ said Voreese. ‘And many of us are petty, grudge-holding bastards with strong political opinions and a lot of free time on our hands.’
Hector couldn’t help feeling slightly horrified at the picture they were painting.
‘But anyway,’ said Garovel, ‘my point was that things were turbulent down here from the beginning. Even “peace time” wasn’t really that peaceful. But that all changed when the Great Green Sickness came along.’
Thursday, September 25, 2025
Wednesday, September 24, 2025
Page 3951
Voreese just gave a skeletal shrug and turned back toward Rezolo, who continued on.
‘I do not believe this is the work of a feldeath,’ he said. ‘But I do think it is dangerous. Are you at all familiar with the recent arrivals of Chaos in this world?’
There was a pause.
Then Garovel picked things up for everyone. ‘Now when you say “chaos,” do you mean the general concept or the inner aspect of the Void?’
‘The latter. The generalized concept of chaos is not a recent arrival in the world at all. Would you not agree?’
‘I would. But I’d just like to be clear here. So you’re talking about, what exactly? Chaos entities? Otherworldly beings?’
‘Indeed,’ said Rezolo. ‘Does that mean you are not familiar with them?’
‘Unfortunately, we very much are,’ said Voreese. ‘Had an encounter with a pretty powerful one not too long ago.’
‘I see. And perhaps you’ve also heard a few rumors of late? About more appearances of such creatures?’
‘Perhaps we have,’ said Voreese. ‘You sayin’ this darkness is the work of another one of those?’
‘Not necessarily. It is a domain of sorts, I believe. Or a nesting ground, if you will. There may be nothing here now, but perhaps there soon will be. I cannot claim to know the details of how it all works, but as I understand it, places such as this can... “invite” otherworldly creatures into this one.’
Hmm. Was he talking about geographic resonance, Hector wondered? Maybe he only knew the concept and not the terminology. It made Hector curious about how Rezolo might’ve come by such knowledge.
Whatever the case, that explanation did make a large amount of sense to Hector, even if the reaper seemed to be getting some of the details wrong. The Beast of Lorent had also been tied to a point of geographic resonance, hadn’t it? Though, was that because the point itself had invited the Beast in? Or because the Beast had actually created the point in the first place?
As Hector recalled the visions that Pauline Gaolanet had been able to show him regarding the Beast’s history, it seemed more likely that it was the Beast’s own terrible past that had brought about the geographic resonance of that particular location.
Maybe that was assuming too much, though. Hard to be certain.
But if the assumption was correct, then it would mean that, here and now, there was indeed something already waiting for them in this darkness.
‘I do not believe this is the work of a feldeath,’ he said. ‘But I do think it is dangerous. Are you at all familiar with the recent arrivals of Chaos in this world?’
There was a pause.
Then Garovel picked things up for everyone. ‘Now when you say “chaos,” do you mean the general concept or the inner aspect of the Void?’
‘The latter. The generalized concept of chaos is not a recent arrival in the world at all. Would you not agree?’
‘I would. But I’d just like to be clear here. So you’re talking about, what exactly? Chaos entities? Otherworldly beings?’
‘Indeed,’ said Rezolo. ‘Does that mean you are not familiar with them?’
‘Unfortunately, we very much are,’ said Voreese. ‘Had an encounter with a pretty powerful one not too long ago.’
‘I see. And perhaps you’ve also heard a few rumors of late? About more appearances of such creatures?’
‘Perhaps we have,’ said Voreese. ‘You sayin’ this darkness is the work of another one of those?’
‘Not necessarily. It is a domain of sorts, I believe. Or a nesting ground, if you will. There may be nothing here now, but perhaps there soon will be. I cannot claim to know the details of how it all works, but as I understand it, places such as this can... “invite” otherworldly creatures into this one.’
Hmm. Was he talking about geographic resonance, Hector wondered? Maybe he only knew the concept and not the terminology. It made Hector curious about how Rezolo might’ve come by such knowledge.
Whatever the case, that explanation did make a large amount of sense to Hector, even if the reaper seemed to be getting some of the details wrong. The Beast of Lorent had also been tied to a point of geographic resonance, hadn’t it? Though, was that because the point itself had invited the Beast in? Or because the Beast had actually created the point in the first place?
As Hector recalled the visions that Pauline Gaolanet had been able to show him regarding the Beast’s history, it seemed more likely that it was the Beast’s own terrible past that had brought about the geographic resonance of that particular location.
Maybe that was assuming too much, though. Hard to be certain.
But if the assumption was correct, then it would mean that, here and now, there was indeed something already waiting for them in this darkness.
Tuesday, September 23, 2025
Page 3950
Plus, Caster probably didn’t actually need to hold onto Rezolo. If he could really just teleport Loren and Rezolo to him whenever he wanted, then would it even matter if they decided to leave his service?
Definitely something to be mindful of, Hector thought. If he wanted to take Loren away from Caster, then he’d have to find a way to protect Loren from any lingering hold or influence that Caster might have over him.
Thankfully, he already had an idea or two about how to approach that problem.
‘...I have not been to Andeyal in a thousand years,’ said Rezolo.
‘Great,’ said Voreese. ‘So we’re all useless. If this really is a game of corporeals versus incorporeals, then I think we might be losing, gentlemen.’
Rezolo hovered a bit closer. ‘I have, however, seen this type of phenomenon before. This heavy darkness blanketing the area.’
‘So have we, actually,’ said Garovel. ‘Quite recently, in fact.’
‘Oh yes?’ said Rezolo.
‘Yep. Okay, well... I suppose it wasn’t QUITE like this. It was more like an ardor-based “mistiness,” rather than this oppressive darkness. But the similarities are certainly striking, I must say.’
‘And how did that situation end up?’ said Rezolo.
‘Oh, um. We soon encountered a golem and a feldeath who kicked the shit out of each other.’
‘Ah...’
‘Yeah, we nearly died. Not an experience I’m eager to replicate, if possible.’
Rezolo glanced back at Loren, then looked over the group another time. ‘Well, I am reasonably certain that this is not... that.’
Hector wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but it somehow felt too soon for that.
‘Yeah, I figured as much,’ said Garovel. ‘Wouldn’t make any sense for a feldeath to be down here, just below the capital of Intar. The Vanguard would’ve taken care of it ages ago.’
‘Or it would’ve destroyed the city and killed everyone,’ added Voreese.
‘Or that, yes. Thank you for the input.’
‘Sure thing. Oh, but while I’m at it, I feel like you’re neglecting another possibility. Maybe a feldeath was just born very recently! And we’re the lucky ones to discover it!’
‘No,’ said Garovel, as if he were talking to a dog who’d just pooped on the floor, ‘that doesn’t make sense, either, Voreese. Intar has plenty of active reapers who would’ve prevented so many wandering souls from ever amassing into a feldeath.’
‘Mm, dunno. Could’ve been a mass casualty event that went unnoticed down here. Like a cave-in, for example. That shit used to happen all the time, y’know.’
‘Please stop trying to rationalize us into the worst-case scenario.’
Definitely something to be mindful of, Hector thought. If he wanted to take Loren away from Caster, then he’d have to find a way to protect Loren from any lingering hold or influence that Caster might have over him.
Thankfully, he already had an idea or two about how to approach that problem.
‘...I have not been to Andeyal in a thousand years,’ said Rezolo.
‘Great,’ said Voreese. ‘So we’re all useless. If this really is a game of corporeals versus incorporeals, then I think we might be losing, gentlemen.’
Rezolo hovered a bit closer. ‘I have, however, seen this type of phenomenon before. This heavy darkness blanketing the area.’
‘So have we, actually,’ said Garovel. ‘Quite recently, in fact.’
‘Oh yes?’ said Rezolo.
‘Yep. Okay, well... I suppose it wasn’t QUITE like this. It was more like an ardor-based “mistiness,” rather than this oppressive darkness. But the similarities are certainly striking, I must say.’
‘And how did that situation end up?’ said Rezolo.
‘Oh, um. We soon encountered a golem and a feldeath who kicked the shit out of each other.’
‘Ah...’
‘Yeah, we nearly died. Not an experience I’m eager to replicate, if possible.’
Rezolo glanced back at Loren, then looked over the group another time. ‘Well, I am reasonably certain that this is not... that.’
Hector wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but it somehow felt too soon for that.
‘Yeah, I figured as much,’ said Garovel. ‘Wouldn’t make any sense for a feldeath to be down here, just below the capital of Intar. The Vanguard would’ve taken care of it ages ago.’
‘Or it would’ve destroyed the city and killed everyone,’ added Voreese.
‘Or that, yes. Thank you for the input.’
‘Sure thing. Oh, but while I’m at it, I feel like you’re neglecting another possibility. Maybe a feldeath was just born very recently! And we’re the lucky ones to discover it!’
‘No,’ said Garovel, as if he were talking to a dog who’d just pooped on the floor, ‘that doesn’t make sense, either, Voreese. Intar has plenty of active reapers who would’ve prevented so many wandering souls from ever amassing into a feldeath.’
‘Mm, dunno. Could’ve been a mass casualty event that went unnoticed down here. Like a cave-in, for example. That shit used to happen all the time, y’know.’
‘Please stop trying to rationalize us into the worst-case scenario.’
Monday, September 22, 2025
Page 3949
‘Hey, guys,’ said Voreese. ‘It’s too damn quiet. I don’t like it. Someone say something.’
“Something like what?” said Roman.
‘I don’t care. Anything. Call me a bitch, if you want.’
“You’re a bitch.”
‘Wow, okay. You could’ve hesitated a little, at least.’
“Why would I do that?”
‘Because a part of you still wanted to be thoughtful? Y’know, about my feelings?’
“Pfft. Nah.”
Garovel decided to interject. ‘Voreese, when was the last time you were here?’
‘Oh, um. Hmm. Maybe ninety years ago? A hundred? Something like that.’
‘Has it changed at all?’
‘Mm. Not really. Eh. Maybe this darkness feels a little more oppressive. Which is kinda scary. And uncomfortable. Actually, y’know what? I hate it here. Can we leave, please?’ And for some reason, she looked at Hector.
Which made him feel compelled to answer her question. “Sure. Do you know which direction we should go?”
Everyone turned to Voreese again.
A fact which she was quick to notice. ‘Why’re you all lookin’ at me?! Garovel’s a reaper, too! He should be able to provide guidance ‘n shit!’
Everyone turned to Garovel now.
And another stretch of silence arrived.
Garovel broke it with a chortle. ‘Hey, everyone. Garovel here. Thanks for all the attention. I appreciate it. Now I’d just like to take a moment to reflect on what a great group we have here. I know things might seem--’
‘He’s full of shit! See?! It’s not just me!’
‘Voreese, please. We’re supposed to be on the same side here. Us against the dirty corporeals.’
She snickered. ‘You make a fair point. But I have to defend my honor, too, you know.’
“I don’t think you’re doing a very good job of that, either,” said Roman.
‘Agh, stop trying to undermine my graceful mystique in front of other people, you little shit.’
“I know you’re being ironic,” said Roman, “but I bet a part of you genuinely believes that, huh?”
‘Oh, shut up.’ Then she rounded on the last reaper in their small party. ‘What about you? Got anything to contribute? If so, now’s the time, pal.’
Everyone turned to Loren’s reaper, Rezolo.
Caster had decided to bring Rezolo over at the last minute in order to have him join them, too.
Which Hector had found somewhat surprising. Keeping hold of the reaper would’ve given Caster more leverage in the event that Hector really did try to poach Loren from him. But Caster was surely aware of that, too--and moreover, he would be aware of how bad it might look to Loren if he tried to hold the man’s reaper hostage. So maybe it was another show of trust. Or a mind game.
“Something like what?” said Roman.
‘I don’t care. Anything. Call me a bitch, if you want.’
“You’re a bitch.”
‘Wow, okay. You could’ve hesitated a little, at least.’
“Why would I do that?”
‘Because a part of you still wanted to be thoughtful? Y’know, about my feelings?’
“Pfft. Nah.”
Garovel decided to interject. ‘Voreese, when was the last time you were here?’
‘Oh, um. Hmm. Maybe ninety years ago? A hundred? Something like that.’
‘Has it changed at all?’
‘Mm. Not really. Eh. Maybe this darkness feels a little more oppressive. Which is kinda scary. And uncomfortable. Actually, y’know what? I hate it here. Can we leave, please?’ And for some reason, she looked at Hector.
Which made him feel compelled to answer her question. “Sure. Do you know which direction we should go?”
Everyone turned to Voreese again.
A fact which she was quick to notice. ‘Why’re you all lookin’ at me?! Garovel’s a reaper, too! He should be able to provide guidance ‘n shit!’
Everyone turned to Garovel now.
And another stretch of silence arrived.
Garovel broke it with a chortle. ‘Hey, everyone. Garovel here. Thanks for all the attention. I appreciate it. Now I’d just like to take a moment to reflect on what a great group we have here. I know things might seem--’
‘He’s full of shit! See?! It’s not just me!’
‘Voreese, please. We’re supposed to be on the same side here. Us against the dirty corporeals.’
She snickered. ‘You make a fair point. But I have to defend my honor, too, you know.’
“I don’t think you’re doing a very good job of that, either,” said Roman.
‘Agh, stop trying to undermine my graceful mystique in front of other people, you little shit.’
“I know you’re being ironic,” said Roman, “but I bet a part of you genuinely believes that, huh?”
‘Oh, shut up.’ Then she rounded on the last reaper in their small party. ‘What about you? Got anything to contribute? If so, now’s the time, pal.’
Everyone turned to Loren’s reaper, Rezolo.
Caster had decided to bring Rezolo over at the last minute in order to have him join them, too.
Which Hector had found somewhat surprising. Keeping hold of the reaper would’ve given Caster more leverage in the event that Hector really did try to poach Loren from him. But Caster was surely aware of that, too--and moreover, he would be aware of how bad it might look to Loren if he tried to hold the man’s reaper hostage. So maybe it was another show of trust. Or a mind game.
Sunday, September 21, 2025
Page 3948
The number wasn’t terribly surprising, given the size of this country, but it did complicate matters further when trying to narrow their choices. They needed the one closest to the capital city of Andeyal, since that was where Prince David was.
Thankfully, Caster’s insights had helped with that.
“When it comes to teleportation using geographic resonance,” Caster had told them, “there is something very important to keep in mind. That is, what causes a given location to geographically resonate. That cause may be any number of different things, but ultimately, it is what gives the location its identity. Its metaphysical structure, one might say. And so the key to finding your desired destination is to tap into that same identity. There are various alternative means of accomplishing that, but the most reliable, when you have a reaper on your side, is usually memory.”
Which had been a rather long-winded way of saying that they just had to find a spot that Garovel had already visited.
Less fortunately, it did indeed have to be Garovel and not one of the other reapers. Since Hector was the one harnessing the Gate’s power, the link between them was necessary for Garovel to even perceive the windows in the first place. Caster didn’t tell them that part. They quickly figured it out on their own.
But in the end, this was the chosen destination.
This dark and giant cave.
‘This is Andeyal?’ thought Hector, as he looked around, searching the empty blackness with the Scarf of Amordiin.
‘Not as I remember it,’ said Garovel privately, ‘but yes, I suppose it must be. The old imperial capital. Now an underground ruin.’
‘So the city’s above us, then.’
‘Presumably, yes.’
‘What do you mean? Can you not sense all the people up there?’
‘Well... no. I can’t.’
‘Uh. Why not? Isn’t that kinda weird? There should be, like, millions of souls up there, right?’
‘Yes, well... I suspect this location is playing havoc with my senses. And this darkness is... a bit more than just an absence of light, I think.’
Hector’s brow twitched as he was abruptly getting flashbacks to their time in the Undercrust. ‘Garovel... you are NOT about to tell me that there is a dormant feldeath around here somewhere.’
‘No, no, no. Of course not. That would be ridiculous.’
‘Right? Because you would warn me about that type of thing way in advance, surely.’
‘Relax. It’s not a feldeath.’ A beat passed. ‘I mean, probably not...’
‘Garovel.’
‘Look, man, I haven’t been here in centuries, okay? Cut me some slack.’
Thankfully, Caster’s insights had helped with that.
“When it comes to teleportation using geographic resonance,” Caster had told them, “there is something very important to keep in mind. That is, what causes a given location to geographically resonate. That cause may be any number of different things, but ultimately, it is what gives the location its identity. Its metaphysical structure, one might say. And so the key to finding your desired destination is to tap into that same identity. There are various alternative means of accomplishing that, but the most reliable, when you have a reaper on your side, is usually memory.”
Which had been a rather long-winded way of saying that they just had to find a spot that Garovel had already visited.
Less fortunately, it did indeed have to be Garovel and not one of the other reapers. Since Hector was the one harnessing the Gate’s power, the link between them was necessary for Garovel to even perceive the windows in the first place. Caster didn’t tell them that part. They quickly figured it out on their own.
But in the end, this was the chosen destination.
This dark and giant cave.
‘This is Andeyal?’ thought Hector, as he looked around, searching the empty blackness with the Scarf of Amordiin.
‘Not as I remember it,’ said Garovel privately, ‘but yes, I suppose it must be. The old imperial capital. Now an underground ruin.’
‘So the city’s above us, then.’
‘Presumably, yes.’
‘What do you mean? Can you not sense all the people up there?’
‘Well... no. I can’t.’
‘Uh. Why not? Isn’t that kinda weird? There should be, like, millions of souls up there, right?’
‘Yes, well... I suspect this location is playing havoc with my senses. And this darkness is... a bit more than just an absence of light, I think.’
Hector’s brow twitched as he was abruptly getting flashbacks to their time in the Undercrust. ‘Garovel... you are NOT about to tell me that there is a dormant feldeath around here somewhere.’
‘No, no, no. Of course not. That would be ridiculous.’
‘Right? Because you would warn me about that type of thing way in advance, surely.’
‘Relax. It’s not a feldeath.’ A beat passed. ‘I mean, probably not...’
‘Garovel.’
‘Look, man, I haven’t been here in centuries, okay? Cut me some slack.’
Saturday, September 20, 2025
Page 3947
Hector materialized a hovering cube, heating it up enough to generate a bit of light.
Roman snapped his fingers, creating a few fleeting sparks. Selena and Nadim simply whipped out flashlights from their packs--which prompted Roman to stop bothering with the sparks altogether.
Even with all these new sources of light, however, their circumstances hardly changed. The darkness all around them just seemed to keep going and going. The flashlights scanned around, only to find an empty vastness.
It wasn’t until they turned the light toward the ground that they finally gained some useful information.
Rock.
They were in some kind of gargantuan cave, apparently.
And there was also another monument in between everyone. It was much smaller than Rathmore’s Gate and didn’t look at all similar, other than perhaps being mistaken for a completely natural rock formation.
Then again, perhaps it was completely natural. Technically, Hector still didn’t know if Rathmore’s Gate was man-made or not. It could’ve started out as a natural phenomenon, so maybe this little thing did, too.
Oddly enough, it looked a bit like a chair. Or a melted one, at least.
The peculiarity of its shape made Hector wonder what kind of history it might’ve had. Perhaps he could even use the Living Core to learn more about it, but now didn’t really seem like the proper time for such things.
In the end, he had actually consulted Caster a little with regard to the proper use of Rathmore’s Gate. While it did seem like a risk, Hector ultimately decided that being able to cross-reference information between both Caster and the Living Core was quite the useful thing. If something didn’t add up, then he would know to be wary of lies--or simple mistakes, if he was feeling generous.
But that didn’t turn out to be a problem. Everything Caster told him about the Gate’s operation did indeed check out with the Core. Which was a start, Hector supposed. Perhaps he’d even allow Caster to examine the Gate properly next time.
Assuming the guy didn’t return to the Gate on his own to examine it in secret. Which seemed more and more likely as Hector kept mulling it over in a background thought process.
They could cross that bridge when they came to it, though.
As far as the actual operation of the Gate, though, things had proceeded smoothly until their arrival just now. Finding the appropriate “window” to Intar had been something of a hassle, especially since there turned out to be several of them.
Roman snapped his fingers, creating a few fleeting sparks. Selena and Nadim simply whipped out flashlights from their packs--which prompted Roman to stop bothering with the sparks altogether.
Even with all these new sources of light, however, their circumstances hardly changed. The darkness all around them just seemed to keep going and going. The flashlights scanned around, only to find an empty vastness.
It wasn’t until they turned the light toward the ground that they finally gained some useful information.
Rock.
They were in some kind of gargantuan cave, apparently.
And there was also another monument in between everyone. It was much smaller than Rathmore’s Gate and didn’t look at all similar, other than perhaps being mistaken for a completely natural rock formation.
Then again, perhaps it was completely natural. Technically, Hector still didn’t know if Rathmore’s Gate was man-made or not. It could’ve started out as a natural phenomenon, so maybe this little thing did, too.
Oddly enough, it looked a bit like a chair. Or a melted one, at least.
The peculiarity of its shape made Hector wonder what kind of history it might’ve had. Perhaps he could even use the Living Core to learn more about it, but now didn’t really seem like the proper time for such things.
In the end, he had actually consulted Caster a little with regard to the proper use of Rathmore’s Gate. While it did seem like a risk, Hector ultimately decided that being able to cross-reference information between both Caster and the Living Core was quite the useful thing. If something didn’t add up, then he would know to be wary of lies--or simple mistakes, if he was feeling generous.
But that didn’t turn out to be a problem. Everything Caster told him about the Gate’s operation did indeed check out with the Core. Which was a start, Hector supposed. Perhaps he’d even allow Caster to examine the Gate properly next time.
Assuming the guy didn’t return to the Gate on his own to examine it in secret. Which seemed more and more likely as Hector kept mulling it over in a background thought process.
They could cross that bridge when they came to it, though.
As far as the actual operation of the Gate, though, things had proceeded smoothly until their arrival just now. Finding the appropriate “window” to Intar had been something of a hassle, especially since there turned out to be several of them.
Friday, September 19, 2025
Page 3946 -- CCCXVII.
“Is that a Hun’kui?” said Nicholae.
“Indeed it is,” said Vasiliy.
“Why is it here?”
Vasiliy moved closer to the large tank. “Some months ago, one of our sects discovered this poor bastard on the surface. He was thought to be dead, and since Hun’Kui are rather rare specimens, he was taken to another facility for testing. But then he was discovered to still be alive, albeit just so. Therefore, a recuperation chamber was deemed necessary for him.”
“Wow...”
“Anyway, the technology is the interesting part, yes? The seals used on this chamber might be precisely what you need. Would you like a better look?”
“Ah--um, but, er... I’m sorry, Grandfather. W-why is this fellow being kept in some backroom storage like this?”
“Oh. The tests conducted on him were completed in short order, since we didn’t want to do anything too invasive and risk killing him. And his recovery should be complete by now, too. But we can’t simply cut him loose, either, because unfortunately, he makes for quite a good hostage.”
“Hostage? What do you mean?”
“Well,” said Vasiliy slowly, “as it turns out, this isn’t just any old Hun’Kui. This one’s a prince.”
Chapter Three Hundred Seventeen: ‘In the land of ancient Death...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
The world shifted into brilliance. Light and colors, wind and movement--Hector could see and feel more things in these moments than he could possibly comprehend, even with multiple thought processes trying to capture it all.
It was almost like it was resisting perception. Purposely eluding his attention.
Playing with him. Happily. Warmly. Childishly.
That was the brief glimmer that he managed to catch within the aura of the Gate--or rather, of the path within the Gate after it opened. There was something more in there. Some kind of presence. An awareness. Was that the Gate itself? Or something on the other side?
It was gone too quickly to tell.
Hector was left standing there in complete darkness as the strange world of lights vanished totally.
But the new questions in his mind about the true nature of Rathmore’s Gate did not stay there for long.
The aforementioned darkness soon took precedence.
With the Scarf, he could immediately tell that everyone had made it--aside from the intangible reapers, of course. But thankfully, their glowing skeletal faces were always visible, even without light, so he didn’t have to worry about them, either.
“Indeed it is,” said Vasiliy.
“Why is it here?”
Vasiliy moved closer to the large tank. “Some months ago, one of our sects discovered this poor bastard on the surface. He was thought to be dead, and since Hun’Kui are rather rare specimens, he was taken to another facility for testing. But then he was discovered to still be alive, albeit just so. Therefore, a recuperation chamber was deemed necessary for him.”
“Wow...”
“Anyway, the technology is the interesting part, yes? The seals used on this chamber might be precisely what you need. Would you like a better look?”
“Ah--um, but, er... I’m sorry, Grandfather. W-why is this fellow being kept in some backroom storage like this?”
“Oh. The tests conducted on him were completed in short order, since we didn’t want to do anything too invasive and risk killing him. And his recovery should be complete by now, too. But we can’t simply cut him loose, either, because unfortunately, he makes for quite a good hostage.”
“Hostage? What do you mean?”
“Well,” said Vasiliy slowly, “as it turns out, this isn’t just any old Hun’Kui. This one’s a prince.”
Chapter Three Hundred Seventeen: ‘In the land of ancient Death...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
The world shifted into brilliance. Light and colors, wind and movement--Hector could see and feel more things in these moments than he could possibly comprehend, even with multiple thought processes trying to capture it all.
It was almost like it was resisting perception. Purposely eluding his attention.
Playing with him. Happily. Warmly. Childishly.
That was the brief glimmer that he managed to catch within the aura of the Gate--or rather, of the path within the Gate after it opened. There was something more in there. Some kind of presence. An awareness. Was that the Gate itself? Or something on the other side?
It was gone too quickly to tell.
Hector was left standing there in complete darkness as the strange world of lights vanished totally.
But the new questions in his mind about the true nature of Rathmore’s Gate did not stay there for long.
The aforementioned darkness soon took precedence.
With the Scarf, he could immediately tell that everyone had made it--aside from the intangible reapers, of course. But thankfully, their glowing skeletal faces were always visible, even without light, so he didn’t have to worry about them, either.
Thursday, September 18, 2025
Page 3945
Given the boy’s obvious distaste for his homeland, Vasilily couldn’t simply ignore the question of precisely which government Nicholae might be working for. Even if it was only for a non-military project, as the boy seemed to be claiming, it would still be an enormous problem if it was one of their many enemy nations.
But surely, Nicholae would not be foolish enough to do such a thing. Especially if he was also being brazen enough to return home like this, seeking aid.
Then again, that might further explain his apparent attempt at secrecy here.
Vasiliy didn’t let any of his thoughts disturb his expression. If the boy really was doing something that stupid, then the best move here was still to cooperate and find a way to make use of his foolishness. If worse came to worst, Vasiliy would be able to spin it so that Nicholae was working as a double agent all along.
Of course, that might well end up with the boy not speaking to him for another decade or more, but this was how the game was played. Maybe that would eventually serve as another lesson for him.
For the moment, though, Vasilily invited his grandson deeper into the facility, hoping that his worries were nothing more than that.
There was something that they had been keeping in storage for a while now, and not only might it prove relevant to Nicholae’s expressed interests here, but it was also about time to check up on it, anyway.
Through a double set of thick doors, past a checkpoint with a stern-faced attendant, they arrived in a dark room with a low, steady hum filling the air. Vasiliy flipped the lights on, revealing scores of shelves and boxes along the walls--and more importantly, a wide metal cylinder that extended from floor to ceiling.
Vasiliy tapped the console in front of the cylinder, and its metal walls began to recede into the bulbous machinery at the top of its tall body.
Behind the metal was a glass chamber filled with bubbling liquid.
Boiling liquid, to be more precise.
Vasiliy could feel heat emanating off of it in waves, which was a good sign, since he hadn’t been able to feel it a moment ago, when the walls were down.
It was what was inside the liquid that really mattered, though.
A thin gray figure, suspended there in a metal harness with a breathing mask.
But surely, Nicholae would not be foolish enough to do such a thing. Especially if he was also being brazen enough to return home like this, seeking aid.
Then again, that might further explain his apparent attempt at secrecy here.
Vasiliy didn’t let any of his thoughts disturb his expression. If the boy really was doing something that stupid, then the best move here was still to cooperate and find a way to make use of his foolishness. If worse came to worst, Vasiliy would be able to spin it so that Nicholae was working as a double agent all along.
Of course, that might well end up with the boy not speaking to him for another decade or more, but this was how the game was played. Maybe that would eventually serve as another lesson for him.
For the moment, though, Vasilily invited his grandson deeper into the facility, hoping that his worries were nothing more than that.
There was something that they had been keeping in storage for a while now, and not only might it prove relevant to Nicholae’s expressed interests here, but it was also about time to check up on it, anyway.
Through a double set of thick doors, past a checkpoint with a stern-faced attendant, they arrived in a dark room with a low, steady hum filling the air. Vasiliy flipped the lights on, revealing scores of shelves and boxes along the walls--and more importantly, a wide metal cylinder that extended from floor to ceiling.
Vasiliy tapped the console in front of the cylinder, and its metal walls began to recede into the bulbous machinery at the top of its tall body.
Behind the metal was a glass chamber filled with bubbling liquid.
Boiling liquid, to be more precise.
Vasiliy could feel heat emanating off of it in waves, which was a good sign, since he hadn’t been able to feel it a moment ago, when the walls were down.
It was what was inside the liquid that really mattered, though.
A thin gray figure, suspended there in a metal harness with a breathing mask.
Wednesday, September 17, 2025
Tuesday, September 16, 2025
Page 3944
“It was a last-minute thing,” said Nicholae, gently peeling his grandfather off of him. “I won’t be staying long.”
“Even so,” said Vasiliy, frowning, “it’s a dangerous time for a visit. There is fighting everywhere. You shouldn’t be roaming around without an escort.”
“I’ve seen worse,” said Nicholae with a dismissive shrug.
That information was not encouraging, Vasiliy thought. Nicholae had never been particularly talented in matters of warfare, and while the years traveling might’ve changed that to some extent, it would probably be many more yet before the lad would be able to come and go from active war zones without a care in the world.
Vasily held his tongue, though. He didn’t want to waste such a precious meeting on chastisement. “So what has brought you here?”
“I’m looking for a piece of technology,” said Nicholae. “I was hoping I might find it here.”
Technology? Well, that explained the strange choice of location, he supposed. But only partly. “This is a new facility,” said Vasiliy. “How did you know to come here and not one of the older buildings?”
“I still have some friends here,” said Nicholae.
Hmph. And they told him about the latest research going on? Or the location of it, at least? That was a security risk, if ever Vasiliy had heard one. The boy wasn’t going to give up any names, obviously, but Vasiliy would have to look into that on his own, later.
For the moment, it was better to just be as helpful to his grandson as possible. That way, if the boy ever tried this again, he would be incentivized to come to Vasiliy directly instead of sneaking around like a thief. “What are you looking for, specifically?”
Nicholae spared a glance around the laboratory. “A powerful seal.”
“How powerful?”
“Something that can withstand at least two hundred atm. Preferably more.”
“Two hundred? What are you planning to use that for?”
“Flood management project. Water rerouting.”
Vasiliy’s brow tilted. “That doesn’t sound like something that would require that much resilience to atmospheric pressure. I know the recent flooding has been unprecedented, but two hundred would still be quite the overkill, I think.”
Nicholae bobbed his head a little. “I... might also be working on a deep sea project.”
“Ah! Interesting! Who’s bankrolling it?”
“Grandfather...”
“What?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
Nicholae made no response.
Government work, almost certainly. Vasiliy didn’t really need the confirmation, but it still bothered him a bit that the boy wasn’t being more forthcoming.
“Even so,” said Vasiliy, frowning, “it’s a dangerous time for a visit. There is fighting everywhere. You shouldn’t be roaming around without an escort.”
“I’ve seen worse,” said Nicholae with a dismissive shrug.
That information was not encouraging, Vasiliy thought. Nicholae had never been particularly talented in matters of warfare, and while the years traveling might’ve changed that to some extent, it would probably be many more yet before the lad would be able to come and go from active war zones without a care in the world.
Vasily held his tongue, though. He didn’t want to waste such a precious meeting on chastisement. “So what has brought you here?”
“I’m looking for a piece of technology,” said Nicholae. “I was hoping I might find it here.”
Technology? Well, that explained the strange choice of location, he supposed. But only partly. “This is a new facility,” said Vasiliy. “How did you know to come here and not one of the older buildings?”
“I still have some friends here,” said Nicholae.
Hmph. And they told him about the latest research going on? Or the location of it, at least? That was a security risk, if ever Vasiliy had heard one. The boy wasn’t going to give up any names, obviously, but Vasiliy would have to look into that on his own, later.
For the moment, it was better to just be as helpful to his grandson as possible. That way, if the boy ever tried this again, he would be incentivized to come to Vasiliy directly instead of sneaking around like a thief. “What are you looking for, specifically?”
Nicholae spared a glance around the laboratory. “A powerful seal.”
“How powerful?”
“Something that can withstand at least two hundred atm. Preferably more.”
“Two hundred? What are you planning to use that for?”
“Flood management project. Water rerouting.”
Vasiliy’s brow tilted. “That doesn’t sound like something that would require that much resilience to atmospheric pressure. I know the recent flooding has been unprecedented, but two hundred would still be quite the overkill, I think.”
Nicholae bobbed his head a little. “I... might also be working on a deep sea project.”
“Ah! Interesting! Who’s bankrolling it?”
“Grandfather...”
“What?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
Nicholae made no response.
Government work, almost certainly. Vasiliy didn’t really need the confirmation, but it still bothered him a bit that the boy wasn’t being more forthcoming.
Monday, September 15, 2025
Page 3943
They proceeded deeper into the facility, now with Vasiliy’s mind racing about what he might say to his grandson when he saw him.
The fallout between the boy and his father had been horrendous. It was so bad that Nicholae even gave his own reaper an ultimatum: either allow him to leave forever or release his soul then and there.
The boy simply could not abide being a part of this family any longer. He preferred death to staying here.
And that separation had torn Vasiliy’s heart in two. He’d tried reaching out many times, hoping to play the mediator between his son and grandson as he’d so often done before, but after the first couple of attempts, the boy stopped responding altogether.
It wasn’t until the death of Nazar, Nicholae’s father, that the boy finally reached out again. But even then, it had been a small message. An offer of sympathy for Vasiliy’s loss, rather than any expression of his own sadness.
Even to this day, Vasiliy did not know precisely what had transpired between the two of them to make things so bad. For a while, he’d thought it was some clashing of ethical convictions regarding their relationship with Abolish--and certainly, that was at least part of it--but he’d also never felt like he’d gotten the full truth out of Nazar, either.
Maybe now, with Nicholae’s return, that missing puzzle piece might finally be slotted into place.
He wasn’t going to hold his breath, though. Nor was it a particularly pressing concern, at the moment. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was grill his grandson upon their first meeting in years.
That was precisely the kind of thing that might make him run away again, for good this time.
When they finally reached the lab, Vasiliy wasn’t even thinking about the Project, anymore. Regomiss kept telling him to calm down, to not look so worried, but if anything, that was just having the opposite effect.
Then he saw the boy.
Taller than he remembered. A lot taller, actually. Wow. That blond hair was unmistakable, though. Still hadn’t cut it, huh?
“Nicholae,” said Vasiliy as he approached.
The boy turned to face him, and it was only then that Vasiliy saw just how much like a boy he no longer looked. That was a fully grown man standing there now.
Physically, at least.
Nicholae regarded him for a long moment, letting it linger. “Grandfather.”
Abruptly, Vasiliy was no longer uncertain about what to say. He ignored the boy’s stoicism and hugged him. “You should’ve told me you were visiting, you little jackass.”
The fallout between the boy and his father had been horrendous. It was so bad that Nicholae even gave his own reaper an ultimatum: either allow him to leave forever or release his soul then and there.
The boy simply could not abide being a part of this family any longer. He preferred death to staying here.
And that separation had torn Vasiliy’s heart in two. He’d tried reaching out many times, hoping to play the mediator between his son and grandson as he’d so often done before, but after the first couple of attempts, the boy stopped responding altogether.
It wasn’t until the death of Nazar, Nicholae’s father, that the boy finally reached out again. But even then, it had been a small message. An offer of sympathy for Vasiliy’s loss, rather than any expression of his own sadness.
Even to this day, Vasiliy did not know precisely what had transpired between the two of them to make things so bad. For a while, he’d thought it was some clashing of ethical convictions regarding their relationship with Abolish--and certainly, that was at least part of it--but he’d also never felt like he’d gotten the full truth out of Nazar, either.
Maybe now, with Nicholae’s return, that missing puzzle piece might finally be slotted into place.
He wasn’t going to hold his breath, though. Nor was it a particularly pressing concern, at the moment. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was grill his grandson upon their first meeting in years.
That was precisely the kind of thing that might make him run away again, for good this time.
When they finally reached the lab, Vasiliy wasn’t even thinking about the Project, anymore. Regomiss kept telling him to calm down, to not look so worried, but if anything, that was just having the opposite effect.
Then he saw the boy.
Taller than he remembered. A lot taller, actually. Wow. That blond hair was unmistakable, though. Still hadn’t cut it, huh?
“Nicholae,” said Vasiliy as he approached.
The boy turned to face him, and it was only then that Vasiliy saw just how much like a boy he no longer looked. That was a fully grown man standing there now.
Physically, at least.
Nicholae regarded him for a long moment, letting it linger. “Grandfather.”
Abruptly, Vasiliy was no longer uncertain about what to say. He ignored the boy’s stoicism and hugged him. “You should’ve told me you were visiting, you little jackass.”
Sunday, September 14, 2025
Page 3942
The other man nodded furiously, but it was really the terror in his eyes that convinced Vasiliy that he would listen.
He let the guy up and allowed him to flee. Then he moved between the remaining three captives and got right in their faces in order give them the same treatment.
The last one was quite young indeed. Probably not even old enough to drink in most countries.
When they were all gone, Vasiliy looked over the carnage he’d wrought. Blood and viscera everywhere. Headless corpses in the street.
A pang of remorse came over him, though only briefly.
He and Regomiss separated again, then he entered the facility.
Someone was waiting for him on the other side of the entryway. He wasn’t surprised, as he’d sensed their soul there the whole time, watching from beyond the two rows of thick glass doors.
“Lord Medan...” The young man’s voice was soft and sad, as was his face. “You did not have to be so ruthless...”
Vasiliy had no time for his nonsense and simply kept walking past him. The main lab was quite a distance away, still.
The boy didn’t give up, though. “Lord, if they had breached the building, I was more than capable of defending this place myself. There was no need for you to--”
“Short-sighted, as always, Rolan.” Vasiliy increased his pace. “In times like this, a firm hand is required to maintain any semblance of order. What happens when you are not around to protect the other researchers, hmm? Those animals would return and try again. Or some other group would. You must send a message that is strong and clear.”
The boy had no response for that, which Vasiliy found mildly surprising as he spared a glance at the lad.
Could it be that he was actually taking a lesson to heart, for once? Hmph. Somehow, Vasiliy doubted it. Rolan had always been rather stubborn in his convictions.
Vasiliy decided to move on. “Has there been any progress since my last visit?”
“Ah--no, lord.”
Unsurprising.
“Oh, but your grandson is here.”
At that, Vasiliy stopped and stared. “What? Nicholae?”
“Yes, lord.”
Vasiliy needed a moment to process that information. His grandson was really here? After all this time? After all that was said between him and his father?
The Medan family was not very large or well-known. Despite having the namesake of the head of their entire clan, they were actually quite a small branch, especially when compared against the likes of the Ydols, Krins, and Erdos.
So it was rare indeed for Vasiliy to chance upon any of his close relatives like this. Nicholae, in particular.
He was suddenly a bit nervous.
He let the guy up and allowed him to flee. Then he moved between the remaining three captives and got right in their faces in order give them the same treatment.
The last one was quite young indeed. Probably not even old enough to drink in most countries.
When they were all gone, Vasiliy looked over the carnage he’d wrought. Blood and viscera everywhere. Headless corpses in the street.
A pang of remorse came over him, though only briefly.
He and Regomiss separated again, then he entered the facility.
Someone was waiting for him on the other side of the entryway. He wasn’t surprised, as he’d sensed their soul there the whole time, watching from beyond the two rows of thick glass doors.
“Lord Medan...” The young man’s voice was soft and sad, as was his face. “You did not have to be so ruthless...”
Vasiliy had no time for his nonsense and simply kept walking past him. The main lab was quite a distance away, still.
The boy didn’t give up, though. “Lord, if they had breached the building, I was more than capable of defending this place myself. There was no need for you to--”
“Short-sighted, as always, Rolan.” Vasiliy increased his pace. “In times like this, a firm hand is required to maintain any semblance of order. What happens when you are not around to protect the other researchers, hmm? Those animals would return and try again. Or some other group would. You must send a message that is strong and clear.”
The boy had no response for that, which Vasiliy found mildly surprising as he spared a glance at the lad.
Could it be that he was actually taking a lesson to heart, for once? Hmph. Somehow, Vasiliy doubted it. Rolan had always been rather stubborn in his convictions.
Vasiliy decided to move on. “Has there been any progress since my last visit?”
“Ah--no, lord.”
Unsurprising.
“Oh, but your grandson is here.”
At that, Vasiliy stopped and stared. “What? Nicholae?”
“Yes, lord.”
Vasiliy needed a moment to process that information. His grandson was really here? After all this time? After all that was said between him and his father?
The Medan family was not very large or well-known. Despite having the namesake of the head of their entire clan, they were actually quite a small branch, especially when compared against the likes of the Ydols, Krins, and Erdos.
So it was rare indeed for Vasiliy to chance upon any of his close relatives like this. Nicholae, in particular.
He was suddenly a bit nervous.
Saturday, September 13, 2025
Page 3941
Soon enough, the testing facility came into view. It was a gargantuan structure--as Grandfather preferred them to be--being comparable to any of those professional sports stadiums that other countries liked to build.
There was more fighting going on around it, however. And this time, he couldn’t simply ignore it, because he could see some of the militants trying to break into the building.
Unacceptable.
The truck came to a screeching halt.
“Rego, merge.”
‘Isn’t that a bit excessive for this?’
“No.” His hand shot out and grabbed the reaper who’d been hovering around the driver’s seat, then he pressed Rego against his chest.
‘Fine,’ the reaper sighed.
And he felt the surge of power take over his body and mind as their two souls fused together.
He flung the door open and leapt from the seat, unholstering his favored new prototype from its hiding spot on his lower back. Much of his body turned to gas, leaving only enough solid mass to keep his clothes from flying off or the firearm from slipping out of his grasp.
And then he was a phantom of a man. A speeding gust of wind in human form, blitzing across the haphazard battlefield from one hapless foe to the next.
In all likelihood, none of these men here were servants. They were probably freshly recruited militiamen who didn’t know any better.
But there was no mercy in Vasiliy’s heart. Examples needed to be made. Precedence needed to be set. So that others would understand that this behavior would not be tolerated.
The first man’s head exploded into chunks. Indeed, the prototype packed quite the punch. Probably a bit too much, in fact, as he felt the weapon nearly fly out of his hand from the recoil.
But he was already onto the next. A blink and a whoosh, and his next victim was gone, too, decapitated with another thunderous boom.
Then the third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. There were more at the far end of the street. Scrambling. Trying to riddle him full of bullets and missing wildly with their unsteady hands. Blink. Whoosh. Seventh. Eighth. Ninth. Tenth.
Only four remained now. Two from either side, apparently. The nearer two were on the ground, having stumbled in their terror. The closest one, he pinned down by the neck and pressed the gun against the temple. Then he captured the other three from long range with invisible cocoons of gaseous radon.
“Tell everyone you see,” said Vasiliy in two voices. “This building is off limits. And so is every place of science in the country. You understand me?”
There was more fighting going on around it, however. And this time, he couldn’t simply ignore it, because he could see some of the militants trying to break into the building.
Unacceptable.
The truck came to a screeching halt.
“Rego, merge.”
‘Isn’t that a bit excessive for this?’
“No.” His hand shot out and grabbed the reaper who’d been hovering around the driver’s seat, then he pressed Rego against his chest.
‘Fine,’ the reaper sighed.
And he felt the surge of power take over his body and mind as their two souls fused together.
He flung the door open and leapt from the seat, unholstering his favored new prototype from its hiding spot on his lower back. Much of his body turned to gas, leaving only enough solid mass to keep his clothes from flying off or the firearm from slipping out of his grasp.
And then he was a phantom of a man. A speeding gust of wind in human form, blitzing across the haphazard battlefield from one hapless foe to the next.
In all likelihood, none of these men here were servants. They were probably freshly recruited militiamen who didn’t know any better.
But there was no mercy in Vasiliy’s heart. Examples needed to be made. Precedence needed to be set. So that others would understand that this behavior would not be tolerated.
The first man’s head exploded into chunks. Indeed, the prototype packed quite the punch. Probably a bit too much, in fact, as he felt the weapon nearly fly out of his hand from the recoil.
But he was already onto the next. A blink and a whoosh, and his next victim was gone, too, decapitated with another thunderous boom.
Then the third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. There were more at the far end of the street. Scrambling. Trying to riddle him full of bullets and missing wildly with their unsteady hands. Blink. Whoosh. Seventh. Eighth. Ninth. Tenth.
Only four remained now. Two from either side, apparently. The nearer two were on the ground, having stumbled in their terror. The closest one, he pinned down by the neck and pressed the gun against the temple. Then he captured the other three from long range with invisible cocoons of gaseous radon.
“Tell everyone you see,” said Vasiliy in two voices. “This building is off limits. And so is every place of science in the country. You understand me?”
Friday, September 12, 2025
Page 3940
Vasiliy continued his argument with Regomiss for a while longer, finding no agreement one way or another, until eventually deciding that it was time to head out.
The reaper didn’t let up, though. Nor was he going to, Vasiliy figured. Even if Vasiliy remained undecided, then it would effectively be the same outcome as a total refusal, since they were on the clock here. It was only a matter of time until Jercash got around to visiting this place.
Which was a fairly compelling argument, Vasiliy had to admit. He couldn’t deny the urgency.
But there was also the problem of actually contacting his uncle. He couldn’t exactly call the guy up on the phone. Communication with anyone on the dead continent of Exoltha was nigh impossible.
Perhaps he could try sending the zalabaram, though. The dark messengers. Unfortunately, the zalabaram who came here would not accept messages from him. Only Grandfather and Pavel could give them anything.
And Pavel was the primary instigator of the civil war that was currently taking place.
If Vasiliy was going to get any favors from him, then it was not going to be free. Pavel would want his backing.
Would that really matter, though? This was all temporary. Pavel no doubt believed otherwise, arrogant fool that he was, but if Jercash or Gohvis decided to appear, then any prior declarations of loyalty wouldn’t mean very much.
Heh. Unless Pavel still thought he could win their uncle’s backing, too, somehow.
Now that, Vasiliy would love to see. He still remembered the last time Pavel had tried that. After multiple hours of discussion, Uncle had ultimately decided to freeze Pavel’s entire body solid and plant him in the ground like a tree, upside down by his head, in the middle of the palace courtyard.
Granted, that was near a century ago now. Surely, his cousin would be able to put up much more of a fight now.
Damn. Vasiliy was tempted to listen to Regomiss just for the chance to see that again.
On the way to the testing facility, Vasiliy witnessed more of the senseless fighting going on beyond the palace walls. From the window of his black truck, he could see armed militants roaming the streets of Polost and opening fire on each other.
Thankfully, they seemed to recognize his vehicle. Perhaps they knew that if it received any bullet holes, he would soon be stopping, getting out, and promptly putting an end to their fight for them, regardless of which of his fool cousins they were fighting for.
The reaper didn’t let up, though. Nor was he going to, Vasiliy figured. Even if Vasiliy remained undecided, then it would effectively be the same outcome as a total refusal, since they were on the clock here. It was only a matter of time until Jercash got around to visiting this place.
Which was a fairly compelling argument, Vasiliy had to admit. He couldn’t deny the urgency.
But there was also the problem of actually contacting his uncle. He couldn’t exactly call the guy up on the phone. Communication with anyone on the dead continent of Exoltha was nigh impossible.
Perhaps he could try sending the zalabaram, though. The dark messengers. Unfortunately, the zalabaram who came here would not accept messages from him. Only Grandfather and Pavel could give them anything.
And Pavel was the primary instigator of the civil war that was currently taking place.
If Vasiliy was going to get any favors from him, then it was not going to be free. Pavel would want his backing.
Would that really matter, though? This was all temporary. Pavel no doubt believed otherwise, arrogant fool that he was, but if Jercash or Gohvis decided to appear, then any prior declarations of loyalty wouldn’t mean very much.
Heh. Unless Pavel still thought he could win their uncle’s backing, too, somehow.
Now that, Vasiliy would love to see. He still remembered the last time Pavel had tried that. After multiple hours of discussion, Uncle had ultimately decided to freeze Pavel’s entire body solid and plant him in the ground like a tree, upside down by his head, in the middle of the palace courtyard.
Granted, that was near a century ago now. Surely, his cousin would be able to put up much more of a fight now.
Damn. Vasiliy was tempted to listen to Regomiss just for the chance to see that again.
On the way to the testing facility, Vasiliy witnessed more of the senseless fighting going on beyond the palace walls. From the window of his black truck, he could see armed militants roaming the streets of Polost and opening fire on each other.
Thankfully, they seemed to recognize his vehicle. Perhaps they knew that if it received any bullet holes, he would soon be stopping, getting out, and promptly putting an end to their fight for them, regardless of which of his fool cousins they were fighting for.
Thursday, September 11, 2025
Wednesday, September 10, 2025
Page 3939
‘No one, as far as I’m concerned,’ said Regomiss, also in Valgan. ‘They’re all just spinning their wheels, wasting time and money and energy on nonsense.’
Vasiliy didn’t particularly disagree. ‘They will settle down when Jercash gets here.’
‘Hmph. And when will that be?’
‘No idea. Whenever the mood strikes him, I suppose.’
‘He will offer you a job, you know.’
‘Probably.’
‘Are you going to accept?’
‘Depends on his offer.’
‘And what if it is less of an offer and more of a demand?’
Vasiliy bobbed his head a little at that notion. ‘Then we will do as we are told and bide our time.’
‘Truly, an ingenious plan.’
‘What would you have us do? Fight and die?’
The reaper hovered in front of him, meeting his gaze for a long, silent moment.
To his eyes, the reaper was a small, pumpkin-headed man with a burning face and a shadow for a body. A little lantern dangled from one of his black hands.
‘Send for your uncle,’ said Regomiss.
Vasiliy set his fork down. ‘Not this again.’
‘It is our only play.’
‘He despises us.’
‘So negotiate. He doesn’t despise YOU, necessarily. Just... most of the family.’
‘Why would he stick his nose into our mess?’
‘Because if Old Medan is truly gone, then there is no one left to oppose him. Other than, perhaps, Jercash. Or Morgunov, if he yet lives.’
Vasiliy rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘You still believe he covets the throne? After everything that has transpired between him and the rest of the family?’
‘I believe as your grandfather did.’
‘Well, he was wrong, too.’
‘Watch what you say, boy.’
‘Rego. This line of thinking is precisely what drove him away--what began the rift began between him and us.’
The reaper rolled his bulbous head to and fro. ‘Fine. I won’t argue that point. But you’re also strengthening my overall case. You understand him better than anyone else in the family. You always have. That is why it must be you who talks to him.’
‘All I understand is that he wants to be left alone.’
Rego snickered. ‘Even if that is so, it is a childish and pitiable desire. The world will never leave him alone. If not us, then others will flock to him. It is inevitable. If he truly thinks that he can simply shut himself away in his library forever, then he is sorely mistaken.’
Vasiliy didn’t particularly disagree. ‘They will settle down when Jercash gets here.’
‘Hmph. And when will that be?’
‘No idea. Whenever the mood strikes him, I suppose.’
‘He will offer you a job, you know.’
‘Probably.’
‘Are you going to accept?’
‘Depends on his offer.’
‘And what if it is less of an offer and more of a demand?’
Vasiliy bobbed his head a little at that notion. ‘Then we will do as we are told and bide our time.’
‘Truly, an ingenious plan.’
‘What would you have us do? Fight and die?’
The reaper hovered in front of him, meeting his gaze for a long, silent moment.
To his eyes, the reaper was a small, pumpkin-headed man with a burning face and a shadow for a body. A little lantern dangled from one of his black hands.
‘Send for your uncle,’ said Regomiss.
Vasiliy set his fork down. ‘Not this again.’
‘It is our only play.’
‘He despises us.’
‘So negotiate. He doesn’t despise YOU, necessarily. Just... most of the family.’
‘Why would he stick his nose into our mess?’
‘Because if Old Medan is truly gone, then there is no one left to oppose him. Other than, perhaps, Jercash. Or Morgunov, if he yet lives.’
Vasiliy rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘You still believe he covets the throne? After everything that has transpired between him and the rest of the family?’
‘I believe as your grandfather did.’
‘Well, he was wrong, too.’
‘Watch what you say, boy.’
‘Rego. This line of thinking is precisely what drove him away--what began the rift began between him and us.’
The reaper rolled his bulbous head to and fro. ‘Fine. I won’t argue that point. But you’re also strengthening my overall case. You understand him better than anyone else in the family. You always have. That is why it must be you who talks to him.’
‘All I understand is that he wants to be left alone.’
Rego snickered. ‘Even if that is so, it is a childish and pitiable desire. The world will never leave him alone. If not us, then others will flock to him. It is inevitable. If he truly thinks that he can simply shut himself away in his library forever, then he is sorely mistaken.’
Tuesday, September 9, 2025
Page 3938
Even after deciding, however, Vasiliy was slow to get up. He was in no rush to deal with all of the nuisances that today was going to bring.
Unfortunately, he had to dress himself, because he’d made the decision a few days ago to remove the resident slaves from the palace grounds. With all the in-fighting going on at the moment, it was simply too dangerous to keep them here. Yana and Yuliya had both been very vocal about their displeasure with that development, but Vasiliy had stopped caring about the endless whining of his wives years ago. If they couldn’t manage for a few weeks without their slaves, then they were even more hopeless than he thought.
Ah, but perhaps they would try to have him assassinated again. Short-sighted witches. He almost hoped that they did. That might finally give him enough evidence to convince their reapers to release their worthless souls. He regretted ever finding reapers for them in the first place. What madness had possessed him to do such a thing?
In any case, the rumbling continued throughout the morning, even as he prepared breakfast for himself in an empty kitchen. That much, at least, was somewhat refreshing, having an opportunity to eat in peace for a change. Were all the wives and children fighting, too?
Perhaps the family was making a game of it. He supposed it was a rare opportunity--in their minds, at least. With the constant threat of Grandfather’s return looming over everyone’s head, there was always a sense of emotional repression afoot. Vasiliy knew that only too well, having grown up in the very same environment.
Even if none within the family would ever admit it publicly, it was doubtless to his mind that everyone felt, on some level, a form of jealousy toward those wild men who lived over on Morgunov’s side of the aisle.
The freedom they had. The lack of burdens and responsibilities. That was, at times, quite enviable.
But even the children also understood that those same wild men were insufferable, moronic bastards, unworthy of their time or trust.
That was one lesson that the Dozer clan had always made sure to impart upon its new generations.
As he neared the end of his meal, Vasiliy grew curious enough to ask his reaper a question. ‘Can you tell who’s winning out there?’ he thought in Valgan.
Unfortunately, he had to dress himself, because he’d made the decision a few days ago to remove the resident slaves from the palace grounds. With all the in-fighting going on at the moment, it was simply too dangerous to keep them here. Yana and Yuliya had both been very vocal about their displeasure with that development, but Vasiliy had stopped caring about the endless whining of his wives years ago. If they couldn’t manage for a few weeks without their slaves, then they were even more hopeless than he thought.
Ah, but perhaps they would try to have him assassinated again. Short-sighted witches. He almost hoped that they did. That might finally give him enough evidence to convince their reapers to release their worthless souls. He regretted ever finding reapers for them in the first place. What madness had possessed him to do such a thing?
In any case, the rumbling continued throughout the morning, even as he prepared breakfast for himself in an empty kitchen. That much, at least, was somewhat refreshing, having an opportunity to eat in peace for a change. Were all the wives and children fighting, too?
Perhaps the family was making a game of it. He supposed it was a rare opportunity--in their minds, at least. With the constant threat of Grandfather’s return looming over everyone’s head, there was always a sense of emotional repression afoot. Vasiliy knew that only too well, having grown up in the very same environment.
Even if none within the family would ever admit it publicly, it was doubtless to his mind that everyone felt, on some level, a form of jealousy toward those wild men who lived over on Morgunov’s side of the aisle.
The freedom they had. The lack of burdens and responsibilities. That was, at times, quite enviable.
But even the children also understood that those same wild men were insufferable, moronic bastards, unworthy of their time or trust.
That was one lesson that the Dozer clan had always made sure to impart upon its new generations.
As he neared the end of his meal, Vasiliy grew curious enough to ask his reaper a question. ‘Can you tell who’s winning out there?’ he thought in Valgan.
Monday, September 8, 2025
Page 3937
Hector said nothing, instead just letting Caster continue thinking it over. Frankly, if Caster wanted to rescind his offer, then he would be fine with that, too. He could try to help Loren out later, if needed.
The more pressing matter was ensuring that this spatial distortion on his body was actually removed. However the rest of this conversation played out, he didn’t intend to let that little trick get overlooked before they were done here today.
-+-+-+-+-
The old palace rumbled again, stirring him awake.
Rather than being alarmed, however, he merely exhaled and rolled over in his large bed. At least it wasn’t the middle of the night, this time. The others had waited until morning to start fighting.
Ugh.
There was so much to be done, still. He’d been putting it off the past few days, hoping that word would finally arrive of Grandfather’s whereabouts, but perhaps it was time to get on with things.
The swirling rumors didn’t help, of course--rumors that Grandfather wasn’t just abroad on another of his archaic hunts or conquests.
Rumors that he was actually, truly gone, this time.
Vanished in the great storm, like so many others.
Vasiliy didn’t believe any of them, though. He’d lived too long and seen Grandfather disappear too many times for this development to be in any way worrying for him.
At least, with regard to Grandfather’s well-being, that was. There were plenty of tangential worries that were getting to him.
Such as the Great Project. The centuries-long vision of their clan.
Grandfather’s latest venture in Ardora had been meant to uncover the means of solving long-enduring problems regarding soul sustainment. The artificial atmospheres that they had been working on over the last half-century were still only passable, at best.
But it seemed that wasn’t to be.
Vasiliy hadn’t wanted to admit it, but this procrastinating wasn’t helping anything. Just because the rumors about Grandfather were exaggerated nonsense didn’t mean that the Project shouldn’t still proceed on without him.
In fact, if he returned after a long absence and found no progress, Vasiliy knew from personal experience that he would be quite cross indeed.
Yes. As his eyes slid open, he resolved that he would battle his way over to the new testing facility today. The civil war that was currently taking place within the family was certainly a headache, but it was also none of his concern. If any of the fools got in his way, he would put them down like the rabid dogs they were.
The more pressing matter was ensuring that this spatial distortion on his body was actually removed. However the rest of this conversation played out, he didn’t intend to let that little trick get overlooked before they were done here today.
-+-+-+-+-
The old palace rumbled again, stirring him awake.
Rather than being alarmed, however, he merely exhaled and rolled over in his large bed. At least it wasn’t the middle of the night, this time. The others had waited until morning to start fighting.
Ugh.
There was so much to be done, still. He’d been putting it off the past few days, hoping that word would finally arrive of Grandfather’s whereabouts, but perhaps it was time to get on with things.
The swirling rumors didn’t help, of course--rumors that Grandfather wasn’t just abroad on another of his archaic hunts or conquests.
Rumors that he was actually, truly gone, this time.
Vanished in the great storm, like so many others.
Vasiliy didn’t believe any of them, though. He’d lived too long and seen Grandfather disappear too many times for this development to be in any way worrying for him.
At least, with regard to Grandfather’s well-being, that was. There were plenty of tangential worries that were getting to him.
Such as the Great Project. The centuries-long vision of their clan.
Grandfather’s latest venture in Ardora had been meant to uncover the means of solving long-enduring problems regarding soul sustainment. The artificial atmospheres that they had been working on over the last half-century were still only passable, at best.
But it seemed that wasn’t to be.
Vasiliy hadn’t wanted to admit it, but this procrastinating wasn’t helping anything. Just because the rumors about Grandfather were exaggerated nonsense didn’t mean that the Project shouldn’t still proceed on without him.
In fact, if he returned after a long absence and found no progress, Vasiliy knew from personal experience that he would be quite cross indeed.
Yes. As his eyes slid open, he resolved that he would battle his way over to the new testing facility today. The civil war that was currently taking place within the family was certainly a headache, but it was also none of his concern. If any of the fools got in his way, he would put them down like the rabid dogs they were.
Thursday, September 4, 2025
Wednesday, September 3, 2025
Page 3936.5
And the more Hector mulled it over, the more upsetting this whole thing looked. Inside his helmet, Hector’s brow slowly lowered, and he squinted. “...Caster. Have you enslaved this guy?”
Caster’s head reared back. “What? No. Of course not.”
A protracted silence arrived.
Rather than pressing with more questions, Hector just waited for elaboration.
Soon enough, Caster seemed to realize that such elaboration was indeed necessary. “He is my right-hand man. My most trusted confidant.”
“So he can leave your service whenever he wants?” said Hector.
Caster exhaled half a laugh. “Well. He. Aha! You make it sound overly simple. But! Yes! Of course he can!”
Another silence intervened.
Until Caster spoke up again. “But why would he want to leave? I treat him well.”
“Do you?” said Hector flatly.
“Yes.”
“Because it kinda looks like he’s nothing more than a tool to you. Or a toy, maybe.”
“He and his reaper joined me of their own free wills.”
“That doesn’t address my point, Caster.”
“I fail to see what your point even is.”
“My point is that if you’re a slaver, then we might have a problem here.”
“He is not my slave!”
Hector took a couple steps closer and looked at Loren directly. “Is what he said true? Did you join him of your own free will?”
And it took him a moment, but Loren gave an unsteady nod.
“There. See?”
Hmm. “And now?” said Hector. “Are you glad you joined him?”
“...Y-yes,” said Loren with wide eyes. “I... I am.”
Caster was watching the guy like a hawk, Hector noticed.
“So you don’t feel like he’s turned you into his slave with all his crazy powers, then?”
Loren was a deer in the headlights, looking from Hector to Caster, then back again.
They gave him a while to answer, but the man seemed to be genuinely lost for words.
Caster jumped back in. “Darksteel, are you trying to poach my man? Because I must say, that is extremely poor form as an ally, and I do not appreciate it. He’s the only subordinate I have, at the moment. I need him.”
“You know what I don’t appreciate? Treating human beings like property.”
Caster sighed and rubbed his brow. “How has this conversation gone so far off the rails? Again, he is not my slave. And we are well and truly sidetracked. Let us stay on topic, please. Will you be taking him to Intar with you or not?”
“Oh, I’ll take him along alright.”
At that, Caster blinked, then frowned. “Suddenly, I’m no longer certain I wish to send him...”
Caster’s head reared back. “What? No. Of course not.”
A protracted silence arrived.
Rather than pressing with more questions, Hector just waited for elaboration.
Soon enough, Caster seemed to realize that such elaboration was indeed necessary. “He is my right-hand man. My most trusted confidant.”
“So he can leave your service whenever he wants?” said Hector.
Caster exhaled half a laugh. “Well. He. Aha! You make it sound overly simple. But! Yes! Of course he can!”
Another silence intervened.
Until Caster spoke up again. “But why would he want to leave? I treat him well.”
“Do you?” said Hector flatly.
“Yes.”
“Because it kinda looks like he’s nothing more than a tool to you. Or a toy, maybe.”
“He and his reaper joined me of their own free wills.”
“That doesn’t address my point, Caster.”
“I fail to see what your point even is.”
“My point is that if you’re a slaver, then we might have a problem here.”
“He is not my slave!”
Hector took a couple steps closer and looked at Loren directly. “Is what he said true? Did you join him of your own free will?”
And it took him a moment, but Loren gave an unsteady nod.
“There. See?”
Hmm. “And now?” said Hector. “Are you glad you joined him?”
“...Y-yes,” said Loren with wide eyes. “I... I am.”
Caster was watching the guy like a hawk, Hector noticed.
“So you don’t feel like he’s turned you into his slave with all his crazy powers, then?”
Loren was a deer in the headlights, looking from Hector to Caster, then back again.
They gave him a while to answer, but the man seemed to be genuinely lost for words.
Caster jumped back in. “Darksteel, are you trying to poach my man? Because I must say, that is extremely poor form as an ally, and I do not appreciate it. He’s the only subordinate I have, at the moment. I need him.”
“You know what I don’t appreciate? Treating human beings like property.”
Caster sighed and rubbed his brow. “How has this conversation gone so far off the rails? Again, he is not my slave. And we are well and truly sidetracked. Let us stay on topic, please. Will you be taking him to Intar with you or not?”
“Oh, I’ll take him along alright.”
At that, Caster blinked, then frowned. “Suddenly, I’m no longer certain I wish to send him...”
Tuesday, September 2, 2025
Monday, September 1, 2025
Page 3936
Hector eyed the newcomer with skepticism. “Why should I agree to that, exactly?”
“Because he will be my eyes,” said Caster, clapping Loren on the shoulder. “Through him, I will be able to see all that you do.”
That answer did nothing for Hector. “This doesn’t bode well for your claim that you won’t be spying on me, anymore.”
“Oh, come now,” said Caster, laughing. “I apologized for that, did I not? And this is a different matter. It can no longer be considered spying if you know that I am doing it, surely.”
Hector just returned a silent stare. The other man may not have been able to see his expression beneath his armor, but Hector was quite certain that his aura was saying more than enough on its own.
Caster’s smile waned, then disappeared entirely. “Perhaps that was too flippant. Very well. If you take Loren with you, then you will be able to contact me on a moment’s notice, in the event that you find yourselves in need of my services.”
Hector remained doubtful. “Your services? And what do those entail?”
“Consultation. Or an emergency escape, perhaps. Or even combat support, potentially. From what I’ve been hearing, the situation in Intar is rather... fluid, at the moment.”
“Hearing?” said Hector. “Or seeing?”
“Aha. Only hearing, sadly. I do not currently have any eyes in that region. Hence my desire to send some.”
A thought struck Hector. “Is that the real purpose of this ‘network’ that you’re trying to build? To give you more ‘eyes’ in various places?”
Caster paused at that, then bobbed his head a little. “I won’t deny that it is part of my motivation, yes. But to say that it is the ‘real purpose’ would be a mischaracterization, certainly. Why, if that was my only goal, then there are easier ways to go about it than scouring the planet for points of geographic resonance and then constructing entire towers for public use.”
Ugh. Even if the guy deserved some credit for his honesty, Hector still wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear all that. “Easier ways, like what?”
Caster motioned to Loren. “Like marking individuals with my power and having them become my eyes wherever they go.”
Goddamn. Now it was Loren who was not looking thrilled by what he was hearing. Seeing the guy’s face and reading his confused aura was making Hector feel bad for him.
Hector might not have known much about Loren yet, but it already seemed rather obvious that this was all a bit more than the dude had signed up for.
“Because he will be my eyes,” said Caster, clapping Loren on the shoulder. “Through him, I will be able to see all that you do.”
That answer did nothing for Hector. “This doesn’t bode well for your claim that you won’t be spying on me, anymore.”
“Oh, come now,” said Caster, laughing. “I apologized for that, did I not? And this is a different matter. It can no longer be considered spying if you know that I am doing it, surely.”
Hector just returned a silent stare. The other man may not have been able to see his expression beneath his armor, but Hector was quite certain that his aura was saying more than enough on its own.
Caster’s smile waned, then disappeared entirely. “Perhaps that was too flippant. Very well. If you take Loren with you, then you will be able to contact me on a moment’s notice, in the event that you find yourselves in need of my services.”
Hector remained doubtful. “Your services? And what do those entail?”
“Consultation. Or an emergency escape, perhaps. Or even combat support, potentially. From what I’ve been hearing, the situation in Intar is rather... fluid, at the moment.”
“Hearing?” said Hector. “Or seeing?”
“Aha. Only hearing, sadly. I do not currently have any eyes in that region. Hence my desire to send some.”
A thought struck Hector. “Is that the real purpose of this ‘network’ that you’re trying to build? To give you more ‘eyes’ in various places?”
Caster paused at that, then bobbed his head a little. “I won’t deny that it is part of my motivation, yes. But to say that it is the ‘real purpose’ would be a mischaracterization, certainly. Why, if that was my only goal, then there are easier ways to go about it than scouring the planet for points of geographic resonance and then constructing entire towers for public use.”
Ugh. Even if the guy deserved some credit for his honesty, Hector still wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear all that. “Easier ways, like what?”
Caster motioned to Loren. “Like marking individuals with my power and having them become my eyes wherever they go.”
Goddamn. Now it was Loren who was not looking thrilled by what he was hearing. Seeing the guy’s face and reading his confused aura was making Hector feel bad for him.
Hector might not have known much about Loren yet, but it already seemed rather obvious that this was all a bit more than the dude had signed up for.
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