Page 4155

"I want you to stop drowning yourself," said Hector.

"Oh, is that what I'm doing? How silly of me. Yeah, I'll just go ahead and cut that out. Thanks."

What the hell are you two on about?

Then, however, there was silence. Both of them shut up at once, leaving Jackson to wonder what in the world could have ended their bickering so abruptly.

Is there something you need to tell me?

Jackson stared at Sermung first, then Hector. They weren't saying anything aloud, but there was an exchange going on. A silent one. They were trying to have a private conversation right in front of him.

The Radiant Sentinel found that intensely obnoxious.

He released a small puff of flame between the two of them.

Hey. Don't ignore me.

They glared at each other for a moment longer before Hector finally spoke up.

"...Your boss needs a vacation," he said.

Hah. So do I. But sadly, this isn't that kind of job.

And the two of them fell quiet again, though they didn't seem to be having a silent discussion this time.

Jackson felt compelled to press further. What's the matter?

"It's not important," said Sermung. "I'll tell you some other time. Tell us more about the situation here in Andeyal."

Jackson was not prepared to drop it, however. Drowning himself, Hector had said? He decided to press the kid further. What did you mean by Sermung drowning himself?

Sermung answered, instead. "He's worried that I am taking on too much responsibility."

Hmm. And are you?

"Of course I am. That, too, is the job."

Well, he wasn't wrong, Jackson knew. But still. His burning gaze lingered on Hector for a moment.

This was hardly the first time that such concerns had arisen over the centuries. Loose talk of that exact type was common enough for any servant who reached even the rank of general.

But Sermung had always been something of a special case in that regard. In Jackson's youth, his mentor here had always been utterly unflappable. A rock. Both literally and metaphorically.

And Jackson knew that Sermung disliked wasting time on such discussions. 'Aimless pondering' he often called it.

But was that the case, still? It was admittedly a bit difficult for Jackson to see the man as ever struggling in such a way, but--

"Your report, Marshal." The relaxed air that had surrounded the High Commander was gone.

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Page 4154

"Listen, Hector," said Sermung. "Jackson means well. He's a swell guy. But he's very controlling. Don't ever sign anything he gives you."

It's not 'controlling.' It's simply 'organized.' Something you have never and obviously WILL never understand.

"Yeah, yeah, just relax, would you? Hector's fine. You're worried you can't speak freely in front of him, I assume? I'll vouch for him."

Unbelievable. You'll 'vouch' for him? You are the most powerful man on the planet controlling the most powerful organization on the planet. Operational security isn't something you 'vouch' for.

"Why not?"

Even all the way back in the archive room, Jackson had to pause, blink, and sigh.

How long have you known this guy, exactly?

Sermung gave an armored shrug. "Twenty minutes or so?"

Suddenly, Jackson found himself wanting these two to resume fighting, if only so he could join in on Hector's side.

Hector chimed in now. "It'--uh... I would actually be very interested in meeting with you in person, Mr. Sentinel."

Oh?

"Hector, please. You're encouraging him, and that's not a good thing."

"Yeah, but I mean, if it pisses you off, then it can't be all bad, right?"

"Oh, you little brat. Still keen to fight, are you?"

"I sure am. And I know you are, too."

Okay, this kid was growing on him, Jackson thought. His file was an interesting read, too. Updated most recently by Xander, of all people. Apparently, they'd met in a foundational realm.

Also, 'Mr. Sentinel?' That was a new one. Taken from Radiant Sentinel, of course. A moniker that Jackson had never particularly loved, considering how overly grandiose it sounded--but he'd also not had a true last name in centuries, and frankly, when used like that, he didn't hate it.

Still, there was a time and place for indulgence, and this was not it. Jackson needed to rein these two in, not exacerbate whatever silliness they were getting up to.

Abolish has infiltrated the city, Jackson told them.

Neither of them seemed surprised.

"At this point, it'd be stranger if they hadn't," said Sermung.

"How bad is it, though?" said Hector. "Enough to worry you?"

"He's always worrying. It's one of his favorite pasttimes."

"It's one of yours, too."

"Oh, kiddo, you could at least act nicer to me in front of others."

"I could. But why, though?"

"You really just want me to punch you, don't you?"

Page 4153

But oh well. Jackson supposed there were more pressing matters to discuss than whatever nonsense these two had been indulging in.

Are you aware of the current situation in Intar, Sermung?

"A bit," said the High Commander. "I did some intel-gathering on the way here. Wasn't expecting a sudden invasion of Yigorosks, though. That was a surprise. I'm sure you've got plenty more to tell me, hmm?"

He did. But first, Jackson's burning gaze fell upon Hector again. Back in his office, he'd stopped writing altogether and had started walking toward the archive room. It was a short trip, but the room itself was no modest thing. Thankfully, his meticulous filing system would prevent that from becoming an issue.

Soon, he would see all that Vanguard knew about this youngster from Atreya.

Which was perhaps a bit presumptuous of him to assume that he was indeed a youngster, but Jackson had long since gotten into the habit of treating everyone--in his head, at least--like they were a kid until proven otherwise. Especially servants. Oddly enough, non-servants got a bit of a pass from him. That was a different kind of living. Higher stakes, one might say.

But servants? No. Even if this kid was already a hundred and fifty years old, he was still a kid to Jackson.

He just had to be careful not to actually say so explicitly here. Jackson knew from copious experience that people tended to get offended when he did that.

In the meantime, however, he was far from comfortable having a full conversation with the High Commander in front of this stranger.

Perhaps you would like to come to my office so that we can discuss this in greater detail?

"Oh, no, no, no," said Sermung, backing up a little in the air. "We're not doing this. I just got back. You're not tricking me into doing paperwork, right now."

That's not what I'm trying--

"And you're not getting Hector to do some, either."

Jackson paused.

"Yeah, I knew it," said Sermung. "I know this is a strange situation, but that doesn't mean you can just get him signing all sorts of weird NDAs and whatever new crap you've probably come up with lately."

"What?" said Hector, eyeing the avatar anew. "You want me to sign stuff?"

Jackson, for his part, merely remained silent. Damn. He hadn't gotten caught red-handed like this in a long time.

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Page 4152

His burning avatar floated closer with more uncertainty than urgency. To his surprise, however, the armored stranger managed to wriggle free of Sermung's grip somehow, and there was yet more confusion to arrive.

The opponent zipped away across the aerial battlefield, peppering Sermung with a cloud of buzzing flakes. Like bugs? Jackson wasn't sure what to make of it.

Then Sermung finally seemed to notice him waiting there. The buzzing swarm around his head did not cease, even as the man raised a hand and waved. "Jackson! How long have you been there?"

Long enough to wonder what the hell you're doing.

Making the avatar actually speak would've required even more concentration; and it wasn't necessary in this case, because Sermung did not need to hear a voice in order to understand him.

"Oh, I'm just... ah... it doesn't matter. Tell me how you've been, my boy! It's been so long for you, hasn't it?"

It has. But not for you, yes? If you keep this up, I'll be older than you soon.

"Hah! Not likely, youngster!"

Back in his office, Jackson was shaking his head. This was the only man in the world who could say that to him.

The buzzing swarm around Sermung's head came to an abrupt stop, and Jackson noticed the armored stranger approach the two of them.

"Uh... you guys need a minute to talk?" said the stranger.

"Oh, no, you can keep attacking," said Sermung. "I can multitask."

"I'm... not gonna do that."

Who is this, Jackson wondered? And why are you fighting him in the middle of downtown Andeyal?

Rather than answering, however, Sermung merely turned to his former opponent.

"Oh, sorry," said the stranger. "I'm Hector Goffe of Atreya."

The fact that this young fellow could also understand him was enough to catch Jackson's attention.

"I'd, er... offer you a handshake, but... you're literally on fire, so..."

The avatar turned to Sermung again, who merely looked at him, still not saying anything.

Jackson felt Avar stir again, though strangely, he didn't say anything. Which nearly prompted Jackson to ask why before he caught himself. Memories were bubbling up. Ancient knowledge.

He ignored them and focused on Hector.

What is your quarrel with Sermung?

"Oh, that was, ah..." The kid raised his gauntleted hand as if to scratch his helmeted head. "We were just... sparring."

"Yes, that's it," added Sermung. "Sparring."

Why did that sound like bullshit?

Page 4151

Doubling back was such a brazen move. It might've been indicating something about Jercash's mindset. Confidence? Or perhaps he'd just been expecting Jackson to get sloppy due to the attempted invasion of the capital. Taking a gamble. Trying to create an opening for Abolish to operate more discretely again.

Even if Sermung hadn't pacified it so quickly, it wouldn't have made a difference. Jackson had been anticipating such a move for several days. Granted, it still would've made quite the mess of the city, if Sermung hadn't shown up like that. Jackson could certainly appreciate the man's presence.

Jercash must have been shitting bricks now, though. Ah, unless Sermung was managing to conceal his presence from the man. From what he understood, the High Commander had gotten quite good at that in recent decades.

It still amazed Jackson whenever his mentor continued to grow.

Was there any limit to the strength that servants could theoretically achieve? Or was Sermung just an unparalleled entity in his own right?

Worrisome questions, in their own distinct ways.

And endless in their asking, added Avar. No answers have yet been found, even in the realms beyond this one.

Does that scare you, Jackson? Or excite you, perhaps?

Hmph. Shouldn't you already know? If we are truly one, as you claim?

Perhaps I do already know and merely wish for you to acknowledge it.

Jackson scoffed internally.

Thankfully, another distraction gave him reason to discard this conversation.

The wisp was very close to Sermung now. Within direct sensory range.

Jackson's pen stopped moving.

Was Sermung... fighting someone?

No, there was no damage anywhere. And the atmosphere was so... oddly warm. Relaxed--and even pleased.

What in the world was going on over there?

Jackson focused on the wisp's senses more strongly, giving it the fullness of his consciousness. It made for a nigh complete projection of himself on the other side of the city. A fiery likeness that Sermung would be able to easily recognize.

Or at least, the man should've been able to.

Apparently, he seemed to be enjoying himself too much, at the moment. Jackson could feel the waves of amusement emanating from him.

As he was pinning someone down on a crystal platform and rubbing a slimy creature on the poor, struggling bastard.

Jackson didn't know what he was witnessing, but he felt as if he should probably intervene.

Whoops, sorry. Next page tomorrow

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Page 4150

It was an easy task for him, this kind of scribbling. A thoughtful task that hardly required thought, anymore. Countless years of paperwork had turned this type of thing into a mindless habit for him, even when the subject matter was this important.

Wars were always like this for him. Writing up letters, orders, reports, invoices, filling out forms, creating entirely new forms for others to fill out.

He enjoyed it all, of course, though for different reasons than he used to.

In his youth, he loved it for the meticulous precision that it afforded. The detail-oriented approach to problem solving. Much could be revealed with a bit of attentive bookkeeping.

But these days, he instead found it peaceful. Having done it so much for so long, attention wasn't particularly necessary, anymore. Even when using it for problem solving, incredibly enough.

Problems during war were rhythmic. Patterned. Familiar and recognizable. Jackson knew what to look for. And even in the rare instances when some new issue appeared, the numbers often made for quite the trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Always simple enough.

And that was the greatest headache for schemers like Jercash. Not an insurmountable problem, of course, but still quite the burden, nonetheless. Jercash knew how Jackson operated. He knew that Jackson would see right through his plans unless he offered up all sorts of feints and misleading numbers.

But Jackson, in turn, knew how Jercash operated, too. Old tricks wouldn't work. Strange shipping manifests? A curious weather report? A mysterious sighting? Odd rumors?

All bogus.

The greater trends were the key. The movement of people, for example. Or the lack thereof, even.

A sudden influx of rural townsfolk into the big city. A sudden absence of movement across state lines. A border guard's report could tell quite a story.

Which was what he was working on. He'd already sent out orders to alter the hourly check-ins with new details. The guards were not going to be happy with the extra nuisance, but the ones who didn't comply would earn themselves a visit from an inspection team.

Or more, if there were other red flags.

Such as in the eastern Intarian states of Lino, Brent, and Cairil. Jackson had already routed Jercash's forces from that little tri-state region once before, so there should've been no more red flags, but apparently, Jercash was under the impression that Jackson wouldn't think to check there a second time.

Page 4149

Avar's apparent eagerness was only making Jackson even more reluctant to go meet Sermung.

Even though a part of him was already en route. Technically.

He had a wisp nearby. A burning shadow--a primitive aspect of his own consciousness. It was moving closer to observe, and Jackson was not telling it to stop.

There wasn't much point, he supposed. Even if he didn't make contact at all, Sermung would seek him out soon enough. Avar was going to get the meeting he wanted, one way or another.

Better to remain focused on the task at hand. The many tasks, actually.

The situation here in Intar was a mess, of course, thanks to Jercash. Playing constant mind games. Trying to sow seeds of madness all over the country.

It had been a back-and-forth with him, these past few weeks. Jackson may not have been at his best recently, but that still hadn't stopped him from being able to thwart the Knife's incessant attempts at psychological warfare.

Hyozen, Jackson's reaper, had even remarked on multiple occasions that taking a reduced role on the frontline was actually the ideal way to fight Jercash. It made it easier to look at the bigger picture, rather than getting caught up in individual battles.

As if Jackson actually needed such a reminder. The reaper was just trying to find any excuse to comfort him, no doubt.

In truth, Jackson knew that he had his subordinates to thank. When he told them to do something, they sure as hell got it done. In fact, they seemed even more motivated than usual, which was a bit odd. Wasn't seeing their leader in such a sorry state supposed to be demoralizing?

Not for Reeves, Bohann, or Judith, apparently.

Perhaps their concern for him made them feel like they needed to step up. They did all have good hearts, didn't they? Good heads on their shoulders, too. If nothing else, he could at least take solace in the pride of watching them flourish.

Heh. Or perhaps they can tell that nothing is truly wrong with you. Perhaps they can tell that you are, in fact, more powerful than ever before.

Jackson ignored the argument. He was in the middle of an important missive. Thankfully, the many distractions on his mind were not slowing down the movement of his pen at all.

Page 4148 -- CCCXXVIII.

There was something quite hostile behind those words, Hector sensed. The other man's aura was all but announcing that he wanted to use the Ceese against him.

To slime him back, almost certainly.

Hector could think of worse fates, though. He was more concerned with trying to achieve his objective here. Even if everything Garovel had said was true, he still didn't want to just give up.

That man over there needed help. And even if Hector didn't know how to provide it, he intended to keep trying until he figured it out.


Chapter Three Hundred Twenty-Eight: 'The burdens of Stars...'
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He could hardly believe his senses. There'd been so many threads to follow. So many things to juggle. But now, he was thoroughly distracted. That was no good thing. He kept having to resist the impulse to drop everything he was doing and go meet up with the High Commander for the first time in years.

Or was it decades? Surely not. The older he got, the more difficult it became to gauge how quickly time was passing. He'd already lost track of his own age, and he was only in the mid-three hundred range.

Jackson felt like he was finally beginning to understand what it must have been like for Sermung all this time.

Carrying so much weight. Feeling stretched across the horizon of time. Wondering how much of himself was still... himself.

And more than ever, he wondered if Sermung had ever dealt with a problem like Avar.

These so-called "Primordials." Jackson had heard about them plenty of times over the centuries, of course, but it was occurring to him now that Sermung had never discussed them with him. Despite having so many opportunities to.

And despite the fact that--as Avar's memories were now informing him--these Primordials had certainly tried to parley with Sermung over the years.

But he is unapproachable, don't you see? Quite literally, if he so desires.

All who make contact with him either forget him... or die. Their vision, blocked. Their wills, suppressed.

Jackson bristled internally. He disliked carrying an actual conversation with Avar, but now he was simply too curious not to ask. If all of that was true, then why do you remember him, Avar?

Only because you do. We are already as one, despite your endless protestations.

Jackson clenched his jaw, not appreciating that answer very much.

Through you, we might finally be able to open a direct dialogue with him. Don't you see?

Shut up.

Next page on the 27th

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Page 4147

Hector had successfully acquired a moment to breathe and think, if only because Sermung was too annoyed to keep following him. He probably wanted to see what Hector would do next. There was a whiff of curiosity in the man's aura again.

There was so much to think about. He'd lost track of the Ceese in the confusion of that little dimension hop, and while this fight was certainly important to him, it was equally important that he didn't accidentally let that thing loose in the middle of downtown Andeyal.

Despite the relative chaos of this whole situation, Hector was fully aware of their environment. And he knew Sermung was, too. They'd both been making painstaking efforts to not cause even the smallest amount of property damage to any of the buildings around here, always ensuring that all of their materializations were properly annihilated before they made contact with anything in the environment.

In many ways, it complicated the fight, because they had to hold back, but Sermung probably didn't mind, since he was already holding back. And Hector had a distinct feeling that Sermung was waiting to see if he would slip up and break a window or something.

Then he'd really be able to scold Hector. Couldn't let that happen. Somehow, that felt like it would be a much worse defeat than just getting the shit kicked out of him.

So where was that damn iron box with the Ceese in it? He concentrated. This aerial battlefield was so large in volume that the Scarf had trouble pinpointing something that small. It didn't seem to have fallen all the way to the ground, which was a good sign, but still--

He sensed it. Not through the Scarf, though. The iron box itself was clear in his mind, relative to his own location. A gleam in the space of his mind.

Okay, that was definitely not normal. He'd kinda felt this before and hadn't had time to dwell on it, but what in the world was happening here?

Unfortunately, he still didn't have much time to dwell on it, because the box's location was quite distracting.

It was in a little crystal cradle, floating leisurely over to Sermung while the Titan hovered there, still observing Hector expectantly.

"It seems I've acquired a hostage," said Sermung with a chortle. "How will you rescue him?"

Hector bobbed his head. "I mean, you can keep him if you want. I wasn't sure what to do with him, honestly."

"Is that so? Hmm. I can think of a few uses for him."

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Next page on the 24th

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Page 4146

Hector couldn't feel Sermung's presence yet, but he knew it was probably just a matter of time. He decided to consult the Living Core.

Thankfully, it didn't seem upset at him. Maybe it hadn't realized yet that he'd tricked it.

Any other hidden functions around here?

No, it told him.

Fuck.

But this space could be imprinted for storage.

What?

Hector didn't get an answer to that, because the quaking spiked in intensity, and then Sermung's aura was all around him. And it was already speaking to him, too.

Neat trick, Sermung was saying. But not enough to escape from me.

Hector didn't even get the chance to respond before he felt himself being pulled somewhere.

Then it was like being ripped through an invisible cloth, and he was suddenly back in the normal world again. In the exact same position as before.

His senses needed a moment to acclimate, but yep. Sermung was right there on the other side of the crystal cage. Staring at him. Tilting his head at him. Judging him.

Hector's mind was racing, though. Storage. Storage? Storage...

Surely, it wouldn't be that easy, right? Because if he could just put stuff in the shield's pocket dimension, then...

He tucked the Core away in his armor and touched the wall of the cage with his newly freed hand.

This unbreakable crystal. It should've been hot after all the temperature manipulation he'd been doing, but between his shot nerve endings and the gauntlet over his hand, there was no way to tell. Hector just concentrated on his aim.

Intention in mind. Combined with soul power pressing into the shield.

A circular chunk of the crystal wall disappeared.

Hector's eyes bulged inside his helmet.

Holy shit, Abbas. You absolute genius.

"Hey," came Sermung's voice from Hector's peripheral view. "That's not allowed. How'd you do that?"

Rather than answering, Hector just launched himself through the hole and out into freedom.

His armored ankle caught on something.

Sermung's gauntleted hand.

Hector reacted instantly, dematerializing the iron there and freeing his foot.

Sermung was still right behind him, though, even as he flew away. "I asked you a question, young man."

"And I respectfully decline to answer," said Hector, bounding away with a sudden iron platform.

He didn't get very far.

The Crystal Titan caught him by the neck this time.

But Hector just resorted to the same trick again. He blinked his own armor out of existence, remaking it the instant he was free again.

"You're a slippery one--I'll give you that."

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Page 4145

'Hector...' Garovel's tone was as soft as he'd ever heard it, ushering back many memories from their time together. 'You've grown so strong so quickly. But along with that, you've been taking on more and more responsibility. I know you get frustrated when you encounter a bad situation that you can't do anything about, but that's just the nature of life, sometimes. Whatever Sermung's real problem is, I don't think it's the kind of thing that we can help him with.'

Agh.

The reaper was probably right, Hector knew.

He wasn't ready to give up, though. 'It's not just me, you know.'

'Hmm?' said Garovel.

'I get frustrated, yeah. But you do, too. I know you do.'

Garovel was quiet.

'Garovel, if you could sense what I sense from this guy, I'm absolutely certain that you would feel the same way I do, right now.'

'Yeah, I probably would. But I've also got a few thousand years on you, Hector. And despite how frustrated I occasionally still get, I've also begrudgingly learned that, sometimes, there's only so much I can do. And I don't want you... to go down a path of... quiet desperation, let's say. Because that kind of thing can drive a man mad.'

That subject again.

Madness.

He kept hearing about it. And he felt like he was going to keep hearing about it, too.

Still, it didn't exactly seem relevant to the current circumstances. Hector considered telling him as much, but he didn't want to worry his best friend any more than he already had. Apparently, this was a growing concern in Garovel's mind, and Hector felt like dismissing it out of hand would not be a smart move.

It made Hector wonder again about Garovel's experiences with past servants. The reaper had told him that he was the twenty-second servant he'd ever taken. How many of them had gone insane, Hector pondered? Truthfully, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answer to that.

Hector stewed on those thoughts for a short while, and perhaps so did Garovel, because a lingering silence arrived as they floated there together in the pitch blackness of the pocket dimension.

The question of how and when they should return was starting to bubble up in his mind. It probably wouldn't be that difficult, he felt; but before he could even start fully processing the issue, a trembling distraction arrived.

An earthquake with no earth. A dimension quake?

That couldn't be a good sign.

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Page 4144

'It's just a little pocket dimension,' said Hector. 'No big deal. We've visited these before.'

'Yeah, and I'm getting kinda SICK of it at this point. At least tell me you did it on purpose this time.'

'I did, yeah.'

'Well, good. I guess that can be considered progress.'

And then there was an awkward silence.

'...But now what?' said Garovel.

'...I honestly have no idea. I was in a pretty desperate situation back there, and I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with it.'

'Hector, there IS no dealing with it. You picked a fight with Sermung. Y'know, like an idiot. Even if you somehow have more tricks up your sleeve that even I don't know about, there will come a point where you just have to face the music.'

'Hey, aren't you supposed to be more supportive? Telling me not to give up and shit?'

'I mean, if he was actually trying to kill us, then yeah. But I'm sure he's just gonna give you a well-deserved smacking. I don't see much point in dragging this out, Hector.'

'Agh. You don't get it.'

'No. I really don't. You said something about his soul dying, didn't you? I didn't press you before, but it seems we have some time now. Wanna elaborate on that?'

Hector hesitated. 'Not really.'

'Hector...'

'Do you really need me to explain?'

Now Garovel hesitated. 'You think he's suicidal.'

'I know he is. I can feel it in his aura. He hides it well, but it's there. And it's bad.'

The reaper sighed. 'Okay, but how is beating him up supposed to fix that?'

'It's not. Or at least, not really. I just... I... I don't...' Hector might've sighed, too, if there was any air left in his lungs.

'You don't know what to do,' said Garovel.

Hector made no response. He didn't want to acknowledge that, even if it might've been true. He needed to keep thinking that there was some hidden solution here. Some better way out of this. Not for himself, of course. But for Sermung.

And by extension, for everyone else in the world.

Garovel's next words proved more incisive than expected, however. 'Sermung is not you, Hector. Even if you see similarities, you are two distinct souls. What works for you may not work for him. And vice versa.'

That wasn't what Hector wanted to hear. Not at all.

Maybe it was what he needed to hear, though.

He rubbed his forehead hard, squinting against the endless darkness and trying to think.

Page 4143

Regardless, none of that was presently on Hector's mind, even in background thought processes. Right now, his only concern was waking the damn thing up and getting it to help him out. Apparently, a fight with the Crystal Titan had not been enough to stir it out of its slumber already.

With the Core in the palm of his hand, Hector sensed its attentive presence again. He would have to give it specific instruction, though. He still wanted it to help him discern the secrets of the Amir-22, but he knew that he couldn't directly ask it to do that.

So maybe he could trick it.

He asked it to search the immediate vicinity for a hidden soul- or ardor-based function.

While it was busy thinking, Sermung was floating right outside the crystal cage, staring at him. Most of the iron coating that Hector had applied was already gone, stripped away in huge chunks, and he hadn't bothered trying to reapply it.

Agh. And the expression on the man's face. Watching Hector expectantly. All but asking him, 'Is that it?'

There was something about this guy that just pissed Hector off so much. Like no one else he'd ever met before.

Certainly, there'd been plenty of genuinely evil bastards in the past who angered him much more, but this was such a different feeling, somehow. Such a unique flavor of irritation. Hector could not have explained it even if someone asked him to.

The Core got back to him.

There was a spatial concealment function nearby.

A what now?

It was a kind of short-form teleportation into a pocket dimension. Only usable for temporary concealment, not for travel.

Well, that sounded really cool but also maybe kinda useless in the present situation. Hector wasn't about to be picky, though. With that information in mind, he envisioned a pocket dimension and pressed his soul into the shield. Was that the right way to activate it? He wanted to try on his own before asking for further clarification, just in case the Core caught wise to--

Everything was gone, he abruptly realized. Total darkness in all directions.

Garovel spoke up first. 'Okay, Hector, I've been trying to give you plenty of wiggle room here, but what fuck is this now? Where are we? What have you done?'

'Uh...' With not even any air to breathe, he could already feel his body suffocating. 'Look, don't be mad.'

'Oh, I've BEEN mad.'

Page 4142

Hector didn't really like using the Living Core unless he had to. Not only was it perpetually grumpy and kind of a pain in the ass to deal with, but it tended to go dormant a lot--and Hector was beginning to think that was no quirk of its personality. Perhaps it was so grumpy all the time because it was trying to conserve energy.

Because it needed that sleep.

Or perhaps it was just an asshole.

Tough to say. He was trying to be generous in his interpretations here.

When conducting his practice sessions with the Amir-22 before, he had of course tried to use the Living Core to uncover all of the shield's hidden functionalities--just as he'd done with Rathmore's Gate--but the surly little bastard had refused to help him.

It had called the shield an 'unformed sibling. Unfinished. Unworthy.'

And after discovering some things on his own, Hector got tired of consulting the Core. Because this was no fleeting mood swing on the Core's part. Apparently, it considered itself an "accidental" stroke of genius from Abbas, not a "true" achievement from brilliance.

Which, in brutal fairness, might've held a kernel of truth to it. Obviously, Abbas hadn't intended for things to spiral out of control the way they did on that day. Though, of course, a lot of that had been the Core's own fault, too. It seemed to think that a truly "worthy" creator wouldn't have been tricked by it the way Abbas was.

A real piece of shit, this little fella was.

But Hector had also since come to the conclusion that there was another layer to its refusal, too. To actually refuse a direct order from him, it must have felt very strongly about this particular issue; and given how otherwise logical it was, Hector felt like there was only one explanation for such behavior.

The reason the Core was so disappointed by the Amir-22 was because it actually did want Abbas' newest work to prove that its own creation was not just some fluke, after all--that the Sunsmith truly was worthy of being considered its creator, just like how Hector kept saying he was.

And so, despite how impressive this shield was, it was ultimately still a work-in-progress, as Abbas said. Maybe the "final" version would actually satisfy the Core. But then again, given Abbas' recent behavior, Hector had been getting the feeling that there might not ever be a "final version."

Like maybe the guy would just keep iterating on it forever and ever. Surely not, though, right?

Page 4141

He'd used a similar trick before in the battle with Bloodeye and the Man of Crows. In that case, though, he'd just been ping ponging himself around the sky, but he felt this would be far more disorienting if he started bouncing around inside the cage.

So he took an extra step and braced himself within the cage. Iron spikes shot out all around his armor and crashed against the crystal. They didn't pierce it, of course, but there were enough of them to still stick in place through sheer mass alone. Yeah, he was sealing his own movement, but that didn't matter much when he was already trapped.

The first iron ball hit the mark dead on, and the cage went sailing. Without much help from his senses, he could only assume that the cage hadn't actually broken away from the crystal platform holding it up. Instead, it had probably just knocked the whole platform over and sent the top-heavy cage flying toward the ground like the head of a giant hammer.

Unless it, too, had been suspended on a hovering platform the whole time. He couldn't actually tell, unfortunately. He only knew that he was finally moving. He sent another ball from the opposite direction while dematerializing the first one, but then the cage stopped again.

Motionless.

Caught in more crystal, most likely.

Agh.

After all that. Useless.

Well, of course. It was Sermung.

Hector had to think of something. Sermung's aura was closing in. All slow and casual, but closing in, nonetheless.

He racked his brain. Ideas. Ideas. How could he possibly get out of this? He tried another iron ball, just for the hell of it, but as expected, it didn't even hit the cage this time.

Goddammit.

What else was there?

The cage was still taking turns between molten hot and completely normal. He could see a few cracks around the corners where the drills had been the most active, but even now, that was about it. They were not getting through that, apparently.

Not enough force. Not enough heat. Definitely not enough soul power. Distractions weren't doing much, either. Which made sense, he supposed in a background thought process. The way they were talking before, Sermung almost certainly had multiple thought processes, too. Unless that was just some crazy aura shit.

This wasn't fair at all. Sermung was actually just him but better. Wasn't he? Like in every way, too. Materialization, soul power, aura use, experience. Even his goddamn signature medieval armor. No one else used that shit. Why did this guy have to steal that, too?

Okay, that thought process was getting a little ridiculous. But it did have a point.

In fact, the more he focused on and processed the idea simultaneously, the more he realized that he really only had two things that Sermung didn't.

But both of those things were made by a brilliant integrator with a Fusion Forge.

Need a few more hours

Sorry, guys. I'll have it up at 6 pm today.

Next page on the 13th

Thanks for reading, as always.

Page 4140

Then he manipulated his soul power within the Amir-22 in order to start releasing the heat outward. He felt the temperature within the cage rise immediately, and he knew that he had to address it again. If not, he would probably melt before the crystals did.

So he had to use the shield's absorption recursively. Release heat in a blanketing, then start absorbing again, then release, absorb, release, absorb--indefinitely.

And quickly, too.

The heat buildup seemed to grow exponentially. Faster and faster. Until even a split second without the absorption being active was enough to make Hector feel like his whole body was on fire.

He couldn't even tell if that was Sermung's doing or not. Was the Titan ramping up the heat? Or was this actually a feedback loop? Was the shield actually generating extra heat, somehow? This felt like a little too much, honestly.

The cage became a very strange place. Flashing between boiling hot and perfectly temperate. Hector's vision began to obscure, bending and warping like a desert mirage that was somehow right in front of him. And without airflow, he couldn't rely on the Scarf to aid his spatial awareness for materialization outside the cage.

All he had was his aura sense now. He'd never relied on it so heavily before, especially for the purpose of harnessing materialization. He could feel his work slipping. Getting sloppier. Less accurate. The iron bugs harassing Sermung must've been missing their shots like crazy now. And the flying drills. They were going all over the place.

Very, very bad.

He had to concentrate. Focal points. Multiple thought processes. Organize. Prioritize.

The iron coating around the cage was complete. The only openings left were for corners so that the drills could still strike.

Even more heat, he decided. Not just an iron coating. A molten iron coating. The crystal was being a real bastard. Needed to soften it up. He could sense fractures in the corners, but that wasn't enough. Even just creating a small opening would at least allow a pathway for the Scarf to aid his spatial awareness again.

Multiple drill strikes connected. Heavy and hard. Enough to shake the whole cage. But after that, they were getting stopped too frequently. Isolated and caged, just like him.

Fine.

Fuck all this precision shit.

He summoned a big iron ball with a velocity state. And the target was not Sermung. It was the cage itself.

If he couldn't move because of the cage, then he'd just have to make the cage move, too.

Page 4139

He went with sixteen points of contact. Two drills for each "corner" of the cage. Eight inside and eight outside, each pair drilling toward each other. Massive sparks flew off the cage immediately, which was no doubt the result of the drills being being rapidly worn down.

Then the walls got abruptly closer, squeezing the inner drills into a much tighter space, to the point where he was forced to shrink them down.

Still, it was better than being completely squashed. Sermung was going easy on him, Hector knew.

The outer drills were wrapped in crystal and halted, so Hector just dematerialized them and tried again. Same story, though. Wrapped and stopped. Only the eight inner drills were being allowed to work, which Hector found curious but didn't have time to worry about.

If he wanted the outer drills to work, he'd have to be more creative.

A multi-pronged approach formed quickly in his mind, and he didn't hesitate to put it all into action.

First, make the outer drills move all around. Zip about the battlefield. Avoid capture via non-linear routes. Then come in for a big drilling strike. If they got captured anyway, remake and try again.

Second, distract Sermung. Annoy him again. However possible. The little pinging tubes he'd used earlier. Bring those back. And bugs. Tiny iron bugs. Buzzing around Sermung's head.

Unfortunately, he couldn't materialize them that close to the Titan. The man's field density was way too strong for that. But he could have them launch even tinier iron pellets at the guy.

Specifically, at his eyes.

They wouldn't hurt, but they might obscure vision and take his attention away from the drills. That was enough.

Third, start coating the cage in his iron, too. Not at the contact points with the drills, of course, but everywhere else. Obscure the cage's view from the outside so that maybe he could pull a fast one later.

It was a mess. The aerial field in downtown Andeyal came alive with a frenzy of materialized movement. Drills turned into little iron rocket ships with spiraling tips, zigzagging to and fro before slamming into the crystal cage and either digging into its cracking frame or simply exploding into iron chunks on impact. It was tough to calibrate the amount of force to use, but Hector didn't have the luxury of letting the failures discourage him.

He just kept pressing.

Next page on the 9th

Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 4138

But hold on. Maybe this wasn't as bad as it seemed.

The shield had new functionality that he'd been waiting for an opportunity to use. Not to mention, it was already reshaping itself to flatten out the giant dent in it.

Abbas had wanted him to test it out, hadn't he? Well, here we go.

In his personal practice with the shield, he'd discovered that heat absorption and release were entirely new features. It sure would've been helpful if Abbas had actually bothered to inform him about that ahead of time, especially since Hector only found out accidentally, but whatever.

It was a matter of manipulating certain soul-based "pressure points" within the shield itself. While Hector knew that he still wasn't old enough to be sensing soul power and ardor like reapers could, his ability to sense aura made up for it, at least in this particular instance.

Hector pressed his own soul power into the center of the shield, where the flattening bend currently was.

Then the rising temperature in the crystal cage began to stall. He didn't yet know how much heat could actually be absorbed, but he supposed there was no better time to find out.

That still wouldn't do anything about the crystals themselves, though. Even if he could prevent melting to death, he and Garovel were still trapped in here.

But perhaps the heat could be useful there, too. To his mind, the only hope of breaking through that crystal was to leverage the geometric advantage of acute pressure applied on a wide surface area.

Or in other words, drills. As powerful as he could make them.

And heat--at least theoretically--had a softening effect on hard surfaces, too. So maybe the combination of those two things could save their asses here.

He didn't see much choice but to try. Unless, maybe, the Amir-22 secretly had a teleporting function that Abbas also forgot to tell him about.

Which, honestly, wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

He set to work on his drills as the shield grew hotter and hotter on his armored arm. He wanted as many points of focused contact with the crystal cage as possible, but he also wanted the drills to be as powerful as possible, so there was a certain balance that needed to be struck.

There was actually considerable space in here to work with, so the drills could be pretty big, too.

Page 4137

This wasn't a fortress cube, though. Those were all gone, and he'd given up trying to bring them back. No, this was the cube that was orbiting around him. The one holding that freaky little creature that he'd picked up underground. The Ceese.

Hector let it finish its orbit around him until it slowly bumped into Sermung, and right before it actually hit, Hector dematerialized the cube, letting the creature free.

It still remained totally limp, though. It flopped against the Titan's armor, and its tail brushed against his face, leaving behind a sticky residue as the creature slid down the full length of the man's body.

Hector caught it in another box before it fell too far, but his attention remained focused on Sermung's squinting expression.

He looked Hector in the eye. "Was that a Ceese?" The revulsion in his face and voice could not have been more obvious.

"...I didn't know it would slime you like that," said Hector, suddenly feeling like he might need to apologize.

"It's a fear response." Sermung quickly annihilated then rematerialized his own armor, which made it pristine again. That didn't stop him from still needing to wipe his face down, though. "They excrete bodily fluids when panicking or playing dead."

Oof. "See, this is why my armor has a face guard," said Hector.

There was only a split second to react before the Titan karate chopped Hector straight downward.

The young Lord Darksteel managed to raise the Amir-22 just enough to take most of the blow, but he still went plummeting to the ground. He did not hit it, however. Instead, he crashed into a crystal platform, which did not budge or soften his landing at all.

Disorienting. No wind in his lungs. But he could deal with it. He had spare thought processes.

The Amir-22. It was visibly bent. Hector could almost see a full imprint of the man's arm in it.

And the crystal platform shifted rapidly beneath him, extending around into a cage. Hector tried to leap out but was too slow and bashed against the ceiling.

Plenty of light was still getting through the crystal, but how the fuck was he supposed to break out of this? This guy's crystals might've well been the strongest material in the entire world.

Then he started feeling the temperature rise, too.

Holy shit, that wasn't even necessary, was it? He really must've succeeded in pissing the guy off.

Next page tomorrow

Thanks for your patience, everyone.

Page 4136

His iron was disappearing faster than it was appearing now. And it wasn't even getting blown apart, either. It was just disintegrating. Atomizing, perhaps. Gone in sudden bursts. Hector couldn't even see any materialization from Sermung, either.

Incredibly, the Titan still didn't seem to know where he was just yet, but Hector knew that wouldn't last much longer at this rate. He had to take a different approach, but it seemed like Sermung wasn't even letting him materialize anything near him, anymore.

That was the work of emperor's field density, almost certainly. Long-ranged materialized objects would vanish into nothingness--or simply not take form in the first place. A ranged attack, therefore, would have to be materialized from afar, then launched closer.

But even that was questionable, seeing those invisible bursts annihilating everything. What even was that? Soul power? Aura?

Memories from the Candle tickled the back of his mind. Aura, they said. It was a feat that only the powerful were capable of. A way of putting the world around them to order. Bending it to their will in one oppressive moment.

Huh.

Well, that was pretty fucking terrifying.

No helping it, Hector knew. Even if he still had some tricks up his sleeve, he was gonna have to go in there and get his butt whooped, sooner or later. Running away, hiding, being annoying--these tactics were just prep work.

Would there actually be a payoff, though?

That was a really good question. Hector wished he had an answer for it.

He gripped the Amir-22 in his hand as he dove in, rocketing him straight toward the Titan. This probably wasn't the kind of fight that Abbas had in mind when he'd given this shield to Hector, but the man had asked him to put it to the test and report back.

Sermung didn't even dodge. He just let Hector crash into him, and the impact didn't cause him to budge in the slightest. That gleaming armor just remained perfectly pristine as Sermung turned and looked at him. He didn't say anything, but the curiosity was obvious.

Okay. Not what he'd planned for. Hector could admit that. But it wasn't like he'd expected the human torpedo technique to do much, either. There was more to this dumb plan, still. But since Sermung was being so generous, Hector decided to just let the awkward silence linger a bit longer while he waited for the right moment.

For the last remaining cube in this entire aerial battlefield.

Page 4135

Hector kept it up in a sustained rhythm, going faster and faster.

It was a countdown, of sorts. Meant to impart a sense of escalating urgency. He'd used a similar tactic on those Abolish invaders just before his fight with Banda Toro. The intention back then had been to get the invaders to flee without a fight altogether. That hadn't exactly worked out the way Hector wanted it to, but he wasn't expecting it to work here, either. Obviously, the Crystal Titan was not about to get scared and run away.

But thankfully, the guy was also not a bloodthirsty psychopath. So the consequences of failure weren't quite as bad here.

Or at least, the consequences upon himself weren't.

The consequences for Sermung, though? And for the rest of the world? If Hector couldn't find some way to get through the guy?

When he thought about it like that, the stakes of this fight felt considerably more terrible. It was enough to make a certain question bubble up in his mind, one that he felt compelled to ask Garovel about, despite the incredibly inconvenient timing as he continued navigating his own floating fortress.

'...Did you sense the aura of death around Sermung?' said Hector.

Garovel needed a moment. 'No. That doesn't work on undead.' And the reaper probably wanted to ask why Hector was bringing that up all of a sudden, but perhaps for the sake of not breaking his servant's concentration, he kept that question to himself.

That, and he probably didn't even need Hector to explain. Garovel would almost certainly be able to connect the dots.

What a strange thing this all was. That Hector could feel such anger and desperation toward someone that he'd also come to admire. Was this what they meant when they said to never meet your heroes? That didn't seem quite right.

Hector kept planning, though, even as those emotions and questions bubbled up through his mind. He let them dissipate like foam on the sea while the majority of his concentration remained on the fight.

And so he wasn't surprised when Sermung finally decided to move, even though the force was so immense that the floating fortress nearly disappeared in its entirety.

Like a popped balloon, almost all of it burst apart in an instant.

Hector was still concealed, though, in a far portion that remained. He immediately went to work regrowing the whole network of cubes again, but apparently, the Titan's patience had run out.

Next page on the 2nd

Thanks for reading, everyone.

Page 4134

Clearly, Sermung was waiting on something. Waiting for Hector to do something.

But Hector didn't mind waiting, either. Despite everything, he wasn't in a terrible rush to get his ass beat. So if the emperor wanted to sit there in that box, then that was fine. Hector didn't mind keeping it mostly stationary for the man while all the other boxes kept falling around it. He'd started things off that way just to prevent Sermung from being able to sense anything that was going on outside that particular box, since letting it fall on his head would've been rather telling, but Hector hadn't expected that he would need to maintain it for so long.

But what did he really expect to achieve here? That question kept nagging at him--across various thought processes, even. Just to knock some sense into him? This dude was basically invincible. To prove a point?

Yeah.

To prove that thing living within that man's aura wasn't right. It was too formless to even articulate, Hector felt. But also too familiar to ignore.

A kind of dark certainty. A hopeless and desperate misery.

That was his target in this fight. But how to attack it, then? That was the real question.

If certainty was the issue, then perhaps he could break that. Be surprising. Do something unexpected.

But what could take a centuries old emperor by surprise?

Good question.

Hector's floating iron fortress had grown so rapidly that he was already nearing his volume limit. He could feel it approaching, somehow. The expansion needed to slow and change. Sermung had granted him all this time and space. And even though he couldn't exactly sense the man's aura at the moment, he could all but feel Sermung's lingering question.

What was Hector going to do with all this?

Well, the purpose of the fortress had been to annoy him. But he was annoyingly not getting annoyed, it would seem.

Hector wanted to fix that.

He focused on Sermung's cube. He added a series of small, vertical, hovering tubes into the room. One in each corner for a total of eight. Then he added tiny metal balls inside all of them at the same time, having the orbs start at the top and then fall normally down to the bottom, hit iron against iron, then disappear.

Then he did it again. Eight little orbs falling in unison. Clinking in unison. Disappearing in unison. Then again. And again. And again.

Page 4133

He had to be mindful of the city below them, though. It was a pain to annihilate every individual bit of iron that started to fall too low, so he decided to reconceptualize his entire approach to that problem. He imagined all his iron materializing above an "annihilation barrier," a hard boundary where none of it was allowed to exist.

That simplified matters greatly. He didn't even need to dedicate an entire thought process to annihilation duty anymore. Every materialized piece came pre-packaged with that idea embedded into it.

Whoa. This felt like quite the realization, actually. And now he had a spare thought process to work with? Better put it to use, he figured.

The fortress of cubes grew still larger. He remembered that there were a few giant black boxes nearby that had encased some of the skyscrapers of Andeyal, so he had the fortress account for them, expanding around them and weaving between them.

Beyond that, though, it was a bit difficult to remember how far away the other black boxes were. He knew there were plenty more around, and he didn't want the fortress to bump into them. He'd have to ease off the expansion then, in order to be safe. There was no way to--

No, wait. On second thought, maybe he could remember where those more distant black boxes were. They felt pretty clear in his mind all of a sudden. Just like Sermung's location, actually.

Was that his iron, too? Informing him again?

He wasn't sure what to think, but now wasn't the time to be worrying about it, either. He decided to just take whatever he could get and be grateful. He was in a fight with the strongest servant in the world, after all.

A part of him was wondering if Sermung even considered it a fight in the first place, though. Hector hadn't stopped focusing on the man's location for an instant, and yet the guy still hadn't moved from within the box that Hector had put him in. What was he doing? Just waiting and seeing?

Agh. He was probably just amused, wasn't he? What a jerk.

There was no doubt in Hector's mind, though, that the dude had plenty of tricks up his sleeve. Maybe he had some secret way to keep track of Hector's movements, even through all this soul-infused iron. Aura wouldn't be able to do it, since it would be necessarily injected into all the iron as well, but maybe the guy had some other method.

Next page tomorrow

Thanks for your patience, guys.

Page 4132

Unfortunately, boxing himself in also meant giving up any helpful spatial information from the Scarf, but that was fine. He had a mental map of everything that he was materializing. All the boxes together. Even as they plummeted toward the ground.

And he didn't hesitate to begin moving through them. Dematerializing walls, then rematerializing them again. Up through the fortress, then diagonal, then up again, then to the right, on and on. He kept adding more boxes to the top of the fortress while annihilating the lower boxes before they could reach the ground.

He could've tried to use the hovering technique on all the boxes instead, but this would be more disorienting for his opponent. Plus, it basically was the hovering technique, just scaled up to a huge degree. Instead being held up by the hovering iron, they were inside it. And this way, Hector could add extra boxes as he pleased, too. Horizontally, diagonally, vertically. Every which way.

He wanted it to be a maze. A means of concealment. If he couldn't run away from Sermung, then maybe he could surprise. The only trouble was that all these soul-infused walls also concealed Sermung's position from Hector--or at least, he'd thought that would be a problem.

But it wasn't quite so. It was subtle, but Hector felt like he could actually still sense which box Sermung was in, somehow. It didn't make sense. Was it aura? Didn't feel like it. No, it felt like the iron itself was telling him. His iron.

There wasn't time to dwell on it, though, even with the benefit of a spare thought process. He needed all of those, right now, because he knew that an attack was coming. If his plan was not to win the fight but to just annoy Sermung, then he had to prepare for if the plan actually worked.

The Crystal Titan would not abide an obnoxious maze for long. Without a doubt, the man would be able to tear the whole moving fortress of cubes apart in an instant whenever he wanted.

So Hector used the concealment to help create that distance he'd wanted. Sermung wouldn't be able to destroy all of it if he didn't know how much there was. More cubes. More iron. Turn the fortress in a snaking line. Then add more lines. Tentacles. Sprawling. Diverting attention.

And fill some of them with molten iron, too, while he was at it. Just to be extra irritating.

Next page on 26th

Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 4131

Even as lava surged forth and coated the Titan entirely, blocking Hector's view of him, the young lord from Atreya was under no illusions that it was actually accomplishing anything.

Problem was, he didn't really know what the fuck to do.

'How exactly is this helping him?' Garovel was saying. He did sound a bit calmer, though.

'I gotta try and knock some sense into him.'

'That is NOT going to work, Hector.'

'Yeah, probably not, but this is the way it has to be. I have to get my ass beat.'

'Okay, but my ass is also here.'

Hector might've liked to respond, but even with multiple thought processes at work, all of his attention was stolen by the fact that he very abruptly sensed the Crystal Titan right behind him.

"Interesting technique," said Sermung.

Hector jolted away, flying and not stopping, hoping to create distance.

The Titan stuck to him like glue, though. Still not actually attacking or even touching him for that matter. Just keeping perfect pace with him. "That was more intense than I expected. What else do you have to show me?"

This fucking guy.

That aura was not so warm and friendly anymore. It was definitely confident, however. More than ever before. How could it be like that now when Hector had previously sensed so much self-loathing and bored angst? What sense did that make?

Perhaps it was just a mask, but it sure didn't feel like it. The guy felt smug as hell.

Which he certainly had a right to be, Hector knew. But there was just something about it that really pissed him off.

The Titan's aura was laughing beneath the fight. Wasn't this to remind me of something important? Seems more like you just wanted to fight because I got under your skin.

Maybe there was some truth there, Hector acknowledged. But I got under yours, too.

You flatter yourself. You're an amusement, not a bother.

Hmm. That actually gave Hector an idea.

If it was impossible to create distance, then perhaps barriers would do the trick. Walls. A full-blown maze. He'd done that before but not for quite a while. How much more elaborate could he make it now? He was keen to find out.

Soul-infused iron exploded into existence all around him, placing Sermung and himself into separate boxes, then adding more boxes around those. And more. And more. A fortress of cubes.

Page 4130

"Hmph. You're not the most pleasant to talk to, either," said Hector. "It's like you've just decided on everything for everyone everywhere. You're not all-knowing, Sermung. That much is obvious. Even if you are the strongest person in the whole world, you're still just a normal guy, too. Feels like you've forgotten that."

Heh. This feeling. Oh, wow. How absurdly nostalgic. "Perhaps I have. And what of it? You intend to remind me?"

"...Maybe I do."

And when Sermung felt the first blow arrive, he was in equal parts annoyed and amused. Surprised and yet not.

The old masters, Osgar included, had often spoken of this. Of how some things could not be said with words, nor even with auras.

Only with ability.

-+-+-+-+-

'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!'

Hector had been anticipating that reaction, but even now, he wasn't sure how to respond to it. He wasn't sure how to articulate a lot of the things that he was feeling, right now. Words. Aura. It didn't seem to matter.

But he was at least thankful that the reaper was keeping his rage within the echo of privacy. That was a good sign, he felt.

'He needs me to do this,' he tried as he soared through the air, building up speed and summoning all of his focus. Sermung was obviously giving him quite a bit of breathing room on purpose, and Hector intended to make use of it. That first strike, as expected, had done absolutely jack shit to the guy in his gleaming crystal armor.

'What?! Why?! Please explain to me why we are currently doing the stupidest thing we have ever done! Which is saying a lot, by the way!'

Hector stayed focused on the "fight" even as he tried to bring Garovel up to speed. He knew there was no point in trying to ease into things when it came to someone like the Crystal Titan. Holding back was just a waste of time. 'It's like his soul is dying, Garovel. I'm trying to help him.'

The orbital technique revved up quickly, perhaps faster than ever before--and in large numbers, too. And as soon as he could, he just let it fly. Cube after cube, filled with molten lava, firing in a machine gun burst.

And Sermung just sat there in air and took it.

Which was not a very encouraging sight, Hector felt.

Page 4129

It was too dangerous to answer that, he told Hector. Not something for you to be worrying about.

Dangerous how, exactly? Dangerous because you're worried I'll betray your trust? Or dangerous because just knowing the answer will invite disaster to me?

Sermung paused again. Astute questions. Perhaps a bit too much so. Why do you ask such things? You are too young to have experience with knowledge of that sort.

My reaper isn't.

Your reaper is a non-factor.

Whoa. That's kinda rude, don't you think?

I didn't mean for it be so. But you must understand that reapers have been manipulated for Ages. Lied to, toyed with, used as pawns and then wiped of their memories.

Manipulated by who?

By things that are not for you to worry about. And you are dodging my question.

Primordials?

Some. There is connective tissue there. Now please stop asking me. For your own sake.

I'll stop when you stop trying to put the whole world on your shoulders.

Sermung's aura rumbled with a silent laugh. And a silent cry. He was trying to do too much? A sentiment he'd heard countless times in countless ways. The speakers were always right, too. And yet they were also always wrong.

You possess knowledge that you should not, Hector.

Yeah, well, maybe you do, too.

Hah. Indeed. But some things cannot be unlearned, can they?

Would you really want that, if it was possible?

I honestly do not know.

You don't know? What's the point of the Vanguard being the first through the breach if the things you find there just end up forgotten?

Hmm. That was one way of looking at it, true. But too reductive, no doubt. If only things could be so simple.

Maybe they are, Hector told him. Maybe you're making them more complicated than they need to be.

And maybe you have no idea what you are talking about, young one.

Eh, shut up, old man. Why don't you go take a nap? Seems like you need it.

Sermung blinked. Both inside his aura and out. Their conversation in the physical world took an abrupt turn as he suddenly felt the desire to cease this double talk in favor of one, singular subject.

"...I must admit, Hector, you have surprised me. I didn't realize you could be such a mouthy little shit. You concealed that part of your nature quite well."

Next page on the 21st

Thanks, everybody. Sorry for the delays.

Page 4128

Sermung kept wondering if perhaps the whispers he'd kept hearing had been wrong. That the Godslayer was, in truth, someone else. He supposed he would never know for sure until he finally found the man.

Or rather, if he ever did. There was no guarantee of it happening, of course. One of them could die first. Or both of them. And then Sermung wouldn't even be able to recover his remains, much less discover what he'd been doing all these years.

If the moniker was true, though, then it was at least a hint. Waging war directly on the Primordials. And perhaps beyond them, even. Looking to dismantle the mechanisms that sustained them and kept creating new ones.

But knowing Osgar, that might've just been a secondary objective. Or an accident, even. Prior to leaving, the man had seemed so tired of this world. Of all the loss and haunting memories, no doubt.

It hadn't made much sense to Sermung at the time, but now? Now, he understood. Only too well. Perhaps Osgar had found a way to start anew, out there in higher realms. Perhaps he was living it up, having a grand old time.

That would also be just like him.

And the terrible truth of it, the thing he'd been struggling not to dwell on too much, was that he'd been considering doing the same for years now. Decades. Perhaps a full century, even. It was hard to judge when the idea had first taken root in his mind.

But he couldn't just leave like that, of course. That's not what Osgar did. Osgar left a successor behind. A clear pick. In a world that wasn't locked in such a long-running stalemate.

It wouldn't be the same. There were too many problems to take care of.

But there always were. There always would be. Perhaps they would simply never go down in number again. Especially if he kept neglecting this middle realm. Wasn't that only making the issue worse?

Agh. No, no, no. There were larger concerns. You knew that. Stop raking yourself over the coals.

What larger concerns?

Hmm?

Oh.

The child. Hector. You picked up on that, eh?

Yeah, I did. What larger concerns?

Sermung paused. Hesitated. All thought processes, for once, converged and fell quiet as he deliberated over whether or not he should answer that question. Over the incredibly tempting prospect of it. Over the knowledge that he almost certainly shouldn't.

Next page on the 18th

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Page 4127 -- CCCXXVII.

It just felt so annoying, though, because it didn't even feel like Sermung was guarding himself. Maybe that was the whole trick of it. A deceptively relaxed defense. Perhaps that part of his aura normally helped to put people at ease, letting them feel like this man had no secrets--like he was already an old friend, ready to share everything with them.

Yeah. That was it. That was what was bothering him, Hector realized. The effortlessness of this incredible aura. It kept adapting. Remolding itself. Where before it was overwhelming, now it was so laidback and disarming.

And Hector was determined not to be taken in by it.

Even if it meant having to do something very stupid, right now.


Chapter Three Hundred Twenty-Seven: 'The Titan's animosity...'
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How had things ended up like this? He truly was desperate for any distraction at all, wasn't he? The slightest whiff of nostalgia was enough to send him reeling into the past, reliving countless memories in some self-indulgent obsession.

Pathetic. Pathetic and miserable.

And now he'd dragged this innocent young one into his indolent angst, too. Agh. He hadn't felt like such a fool in quite a long time.

But perhaps this, too, was the illusive hand of fate at work. Hector here certainly didn't seem to believe in such things, but in a strange way, that was only making Sermung even more convinced that it might genuinely be true. And even more than that, it was a much needed reminder that destiny was not always and in all regards tragic.

It was so easy to become overly concerned with the fall, wasn't it? The descent into madness, destruction, and death. Of course.

But for there to come a fall, there must first come a rise, no?

And such things could be quite beautiful, indeed. Sermung had seen those, too, over the centuries. As had Tenebrach, naturally.

A thing to be admired, surely. A future to look forward to. Even if it, too, must one day fade.

Such was what these children represented. These "playthings of the gods." He'd been one himself, once upon a time.

A silly notion in retrospect. Nearly to the point of complete absurdity. He couldn't help wondering what Osgar would think of him now. He couldn't help wondering how Osgar might have changed, too.

The Godslayer.

That moniker was certainly suggestive enough of some transformation undertaken, some new height reached, and yet... somehow, it also felt entirely fitting for Osgar. Like it had always belonged to him.

Page 4126

Sermung's gaze lingered on Hector for a quiet moment, and then he took a deliberate breath, exhaling slowly. "Sorry. Maybe I'm getting a bit too stuffy for my own good. You're not really like that, are you? I should relax."

And Hector was lost. What was he talking about? And there was something else in the aura now--yet another new thing that he couldn't quite pin down. Was that disappointment, maybe? Mixed with nostalgia? Agh, neither of those felt quite right.

"My bad, kiddo."

What the hell? "Why do you keep apologizing?"

"Because I keep presuming too much. You really are so innocent and kind. I can see it in you, plain as day. Good-hearted in the extreme. You should go back home to Atreya as soon as you can."

Hector's irritation was rising up again. While a lot of those words sounded like compliments, the aura was adding a certain subtext that he didn't much appreciate. Pity and sadness. Not just toward Hector, either. Toward himself.

Why was the man pitying himself, right now?

What a weirdo. Just a complete wall of indecipherable emotion and history, despite seemingly being such an open book before. And distracted, too. The guy's mind was still elsewhere. Wandering off into the distance. Wandering back in time. Even wandering inward, if that were possible.

Sad and bored and tired, yet still somehow supremely confident and warm and welcoming.

This man made no sense. An enigma cloaked in contradictions.

Hector found himself drawing comparisons with Malast. He hadn't actually been able to sense Malast's aura, of course, but the longer this conversation went, the more he felt like the God of Boredom might be quite similar to this, if only a bit more extreme in certain ways.

And much like with Malast, the more he spoke to this guy, the more difficult it was to not get pissed off. Especially because, unlike with Malast, this guy, ultimately, was still just a dude. A normal human. Undead, sure, but still human. Not some ancient god or whatever.

Somewhere in there, buried under that mountain of bullshit, was just a regular guy. Hector felt like he'd glimpsed it a few times, but it kept disappearing. Even this new version, speaking so casually, wasn't actually him, was it? Just another front.

But of course, that also made sense. This dude had layers. And plenty to hide. Naturally. There was a lot that he could learn from here, Hector knew.

Next page tomorrow

Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 4125

Back in the normal world, their second conversation was continuing, too.

"What'll you do with all these giant boxes?" said Hector.

"Return the Idkin to where they belong," said Sermung. "That will take time, however. I must discern the correct destination first. Or destinations, most likely. I doubt they have all come from the same place."

"Do you know how Jercash would've brought them here?"

"With the aid of one of his madmen, no doubt. His most dangerous quality is his ability to engender the cooperation of others--even those who might otherwise remain lone operators. But tell me: if you are from Atreya, then how came you to be here in Andeyal?"

"My country's prince is currently stuck in the city, due to everything going on. I came here to ensure his safety."

"But how did you arrive, if as you said, my men have the city under a lockdown?"

Ah. Hector saw what he was getting at but hesitated. That was quite sensitive information, he felt, but this was also Sermung he was talking to here. Maybe the most trustworthy man in the entire world, if reputation was anything to go by.

But it wasn't.

Hector didn't know him. Not like that, anyway.

And sure, perhaps they were getting to know each other extremely quickly thanks to their auras, but in a weird way, that was actually making it clear to Hector just how much he didn't know about this living legend in front of him--how much he couldn't know. There was far too much in that aura. Both concealed and not. Too many things for Hector to wrap his head around, especially in a single conversation.

"You are wary of me," observed Sermung. "Perhaps that is wise, though I can't help feeling somewhat slighted, seeing how much I have already shared with you."

"You volunteered all that," said Hector. "And I appreciate it, but... we also just met, you know."

"Your secret is that valuable to you, is it? Very well. I shall not pry."

"Are you sure about that? I get the feeling you can already see just about anything you want."

"Hah. It is never that simple. Prodding into others' secrets always carries with it some level of risk. But... perhaps you should be taking further measures to guard yourself, as well? You may have been sharing more than you intended. And future encounters of this nature may not be as benign. You understand my meaning?"

Hmm. "I think so."

Page 4124

You see? You may be young, but you have already seen it for yourself, yes? Or heard of their exploits, at least? The reapers who keep the world in a perpetual state of suffering and strife.

Alright, sure, that's a fair point, but it's not like all reapers disappearing tomorrow would fix that. That's human nature. And they're still human, just like us.

Which only further supports my point. What hope is there, truly, when the problem stems from our very natures?

Oh, come on. Just look around. You're what, six hundred years old or something? The world is definitely NOT the same as it was six hundred years ago, is it? All the technological advancements. And... yeah, moral advancements, too, don't you think?

Hmm.

I mean, sure, we've still got plenty of problems. Slavery still exists, for example. But it's not nearly as common as it used to be, either. General sentiment towards it has improved enormously, hasn't it? Along with tons of other issues.

Hmph. Now you sound like Xander. You mentioned meeting him, didn't you?

Wait. Had he mentioned that? Hector was pretty sure that he hadn't. But he'd thought about it, which was maybe all Sermung had needed in order to discern the rest from his aura.

Oh man.

Take it as a compliment, Sermung's aura was saying.

Hector tried to course correct. We're getting sidetracked. The point is, humans are still growing and improving. Slowly, sure, but it's happening. Maybe you'd be able to see that more clearly if you weren't... so detached from everyone and everything.

Ah. You can sense that, too, can you?

Of course I can. You shared it with me--and on purpose, I'm pretty sure.

Hmm. Perhaps I did.

If you say "or perhaps not" right now, I'm gonna punch you.

A rumble in Sermung's aura arrived. A laugh. Something Hector hadn't sensed so strongly from the man before.

Yes, I see. You've had your own encounters with them, haven't you? The twisted meddlers who cannot let go of our world.

What can you tell me about them?

Quite a bit, I imagine. They are watching you now. Which means they have seen me, if they hadn't before. Well, it was only a matter of time, I suppose.

Are you at war with them?

In part. They are no friends to humanity, but neither are they strictly enemies. Always be cautious in your dealings with them. If they have taken an interest in you, then I'm sure that more will seek you out before long.

Next page on the 10th

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Page 4123

It was tough. Certainly, there were plenty of other questions that Hector wanted to ask, particularly about the Vanguard's conduct as a whole, but it wasn't the time for that. For two different reasons, in fact. The first being that he still wasn't convinced that the situation here was truly secure now, even with Sermung's arrival. And the second being that the turmoil he sensed within Sermung was its own problem to be worrying about.

After everything he'd come to learn about the Rainlord's circumstances and the recent battle in the Luthic Ocean that caused Hurricane Deva, Hector was honestly quite tempted to just lay all of that at the feet of the Vanguardian emperor here and demand some explanations.

But how would that help the current situation? It might provide a nice feeling of catharsis, but that was just selfish thinking when so much was still up in the air. And selfishness could wait a bit longer.

Sermung's aura, however, must have been able to pick up on some aspect of those feelings, because Hector was sensing some related inquiries from the mounting irritation therein.

You are holding back quite a bit, the man's aura was saying. You have some bone to pick with me, I take it? Like countless others, no doubt.

A tempting provocation, but Hector didn't bite. He kept his own annoyance at bay. Don't change the subject. We were focusing on destiny. What's your obsession with it?

I am not obsessed. I just find it difficult to continue denying. It is hard to articulate to one so young. You may understand much of me that others do not, but that does not mean everything is easily clarified.

Well, please try, anyway. Because it seems like that idea sits near the root of your struggle.

The hope of free will may indeed be beautiful, and I do still admire it, but what say you when you see people with these supposedly free wills making the same mistakes ad nauseum? When great problems that you sacrifice much in order to solve keep returning again and again? Does that speak nothing of predestination to you? Of a pointless struggle against the endless march of entropy?

Not especially. Young people make young mistakes. I know it must be frustrating to watch happen, but the path forward isn't a straight line, you know. People learn and grow through all sorts of messy and backwards ways.

Hmph. And what of reapers? They do not have such an excuse.

Okay, well, reapers are... ah... hmm.

Page 4122

But even as they conducted a conversation between auras alone, they also kept up a completely different discussion with their physical voices in the normal world. There were pressing questions that Hector wanted answers to, after all, including the one that Garovel had asked him to bring up.

"Have you already neutralized all the Yigorosks in the entire city?" said Hector.

"Yes. No need to worry. How much do you know about the current state of Andeyal? I've only just arrived and could use any information you might possess."

"If you only just arrived, then how can you be so sure that you got them all?"

"The Idkin are a familiar foe to me. I've learned their tactics and how to sense their various presences, even the ones that employ stealth. Truthfully, this incursion wasn't that bad. It could have been far worse, believe me."

"Well, I've heard Jercash is responsible for most of the recent issues in the city. Your people are keeping it under a psychic lockdown, in case you didn't already know."

"Aha. Jercash, yes. He will not be a problem, either."

Hector wanted to doubt the man's certitude, but given who he was dealing with here, it was kind of difficult to do so. "Er--there are Yigorosks that employ stealth? Or--eh--Idkin, you said?"

"Oh, yes. Idkin is the term for the larger group to which Yigorosks belong. They are as diverse as we humans--or perhaps even moreso. And their abilities can be quite strange. Camouflage and psychic concealment being among them. I advise you to be wary of that, should you have to deal with them again in the future. Some are quite intelligent, as well, making it possible to reason with them, even." The emperor paused to bob his head. "Or be deceived by them. Again, I advise caution."

That was all rather unpleasant news. "But the ones you just boxed in..."

"None of the cunning ones, no. Just their mindless hordes, driven by pure instinct and simple orders. I'm sure you would be able to tell if you assessed one up close."

The man sounded so casual and matter-of-fact, despite the roiling emotions that Hector knew to be underneath. It really did feel like this guy was existing in two different worlds at once. Hell, maybe even more than two. Given how new to this he still was, there were probably still things that he couldn't yet sense, depths that he couldn't yet reach.

Page 4121

How had it gotten this bad, Hector wondered? As old as this guy was, as connected as he was, people must have been lining up to help him throughout history. Surely, others within the Vanguard must have noticed all this within their leader. Hector had already met Xander, and that dude had been insightful as hell, so he must've been able to see that--

Ah.

Perhaps Sermung could sense his brewing questions, because now memories were bubbling en masse. Shadowed and murky but still intelligible. Of course others had been able to see this. Not many, admittedly, but enough.

And it had caused problems. Many problems. Because not all were helpful of spirit. Some only saw weakness.

Opportunity.

Were you the same, Hector Goffe of Atreya? And if not now, then would you become so, in time? Yet another friend turned enemy?

The aura behind those questions wasn't even threatening, though logically-speaking it should have been. Instead, it felt remorseful. As if already regretting the future. And perhaps this whole conversation.

Didn't mean to draw you in like this. One more person wrapped up in inevitable tragedy. Fated misery. Was it ever avoidable? He wanted to think so. He always wanted to think so.

Hector was getting annoyed now. Talk about presumptuous. Was that where the question about destiny came from? This shit right here? Why were you dwelling on this so much? You knew better. At your age? Pondering the unknowable? Of course you knew better.

Hmph. If only it were as simple as deciding not to dwell on something. One might put it off, sure. Distract oneself with more pressing matters. But it always comes back, in time. And when one is immortal, there truly is no escape, is there? You'll see, young one.

It might not be simple, no. But that doesn't make it impossible, either. Something that helped me was understanding the fruitlessness of it. It's pointless to dwell on pointlessness.

Hah. A fun turn of phrase, perhaps, but ultimately, as you say, pointless. Meaningless. Meager human souls were never meant to live so long. This was always going to be the destination. And it always will be, no matter much we might try to deny it.

There you go with that destiny talk again. You still haven't told me why you seem to believe in the concept so much. What if it's just a load of horseshit?

Whoa. Hector could sense a fluctuation in Sermung's aura now. Annoyance? That was new. Perhaps the man had already sensed the same thing in Hector and was responding in kind.

Next page on the 5th

Need a little more time. Sorry. Thanks for reading, as always.

Page 4120

He remained steady. And aware. Dividing his attention between these two starkly different worlds. That was very much necessary, at the moment. The world of darkness that he'd stepped into. And the normal world--which also wasn't looking terribly normal at the moment, what with these giant black monoliths everywhere and the floating man in gleaming armor right in front of him.

A man who was still speaking to him so casually, too, even though Hector could tell that his attention was also split, right now. What a supremely odd feeling.

"Apologies if I'm coming across a bit mopey," Sermung was saying. "Nostalgia is sometimes a double-edged sword, I feel."

"...Is this armor reminding you of someone in particular?" said Hector.

The man paused at that. The distracted aspect of his aura shifted. More of his attention was turning toward Hector now. "Not just your armor," he said slowly. "You carry yourself in a similar manner, as well. I find it... hmm..."

Hector didn't push. He understood where that sentence had been going and didn't need the man to articulate it aloud. "It's okay," he said. "I'd like to help you, if I can."

And beneath, in the other world, so many things were still being revealed to him. Too many, quite frankly. So much information at once.

This guy was suddenly an open book.

Or seemed to be, at least. This was an emperor, after all. There had to be all sorts of operational secrets that the guy didn't wish to share, of course, but Hector wasn't interested in any of that. And perhaps he could tell. Perhaps that was why he was willing to share so much.

"Sorry again," said Sermung. "I don't mean to bombard you. It's the strangest thing, I--"

"It's alright," said Hector, even as he sifted through it all. So much suffering. Holy fucking shit. It reminded him of the Candle's memories but so much more potent. So much more personal. Truly, deeply felt.

The Candle's memories had felt more like observations. Largely neutral in terms of emotions, even if when they were revealing utterly horrific events.

But these were soaked with emotion. Like bleeding wounds. Hector very nearly confused them with his own emotions. If he didn't catch himself--guard himself--he might've very well gotten swept away in the tide.

He had to concentrate. Bring everything to bear. No distraction. Sort through as much as he could with as many different thought processes as he could. While still remaining awake and cogent in the real world, too.

Wow.

Next page on June 2nd

Thanks for reading, everybody.

EDIT: Yeah, okay, I meant July. But of 2027. Hah. I'm kidding. Or am I? Hmm.

Page 4119

The world had shifted all around him. Darkened and stretched, molded and compressed, swirling and sinking. Pulling on him. Mentally. Physically. Every which way. Even his aura senses were smothered. Hell, even the Scarf was blinded.

But still, Hector did not budge.

There was no reason to panic.

Garovel wanted to. Hector could sense that.

But it was okay, Garovel. Everything was fine.

Sermung didn't harbor any malice or ill will. The man hadn't even wanted to let Hector in like this. In fact, he still didn't, even now. Hector could sense reservation still in here. A contrarian desire to be left alone, despite all this misery and mayhem.

Ah, wait a minute. There was a second aura at work. Was that Sermung's reaper? Inviting Hector in despite Sermung's reluctance. Or perhaps it was the other way around? Difficult to tell when the two auras were so deeply intertwined.

Time seemed to be losing meaning now, too. With everything around him distorted like this--darkened and concealed--Hector couldn't even feel the outside world anymore.

But that wasn't such an abnormal occurrence for him, at this point.

Still no reason to panic.

Him and Sermung in an ocean of darkness.

And Sermung wasn't even entirely here, Hector realized. The aura was distracted. Perhaps the man's mind was elsewhere. Still talking to him out in the real world? Or perhaps it was gone even further afield? Thinking of greater problems, far away?

Anything to get away from the boredom. The dwelling. The endless death and suffering.

Wow.

Familiar, yet not.

Obviously, all this stuff was far older and deeper than anything Hector had experienced. Shit. So this was how bad it could get, huh? This was his future if Garovel hadn't saved him, wasn't it? Or perhaps it still was, and Garovel had merely delayed it.

Goddamn.

Emotions swirling. Making their silent arguments. Trying to sway him. Convince him of their dark truths. Their morbid pragmatisms. Their tragic inevitabilities.

And yet, still, Hector did not budge.

He was a fortress, and they were not welcome inside. It didn't matter how powerful they were in Sermung's mind or anyone else's. His own will was the arbiter of his emotions. No one else.

But he did sympathize. He allowed that much, at least. The familiarity of it all was impossible to ignore. The unspeakable desperation.

It wanted answers. Solutions.

Hector didn't know if he could provide those. But also didn't know that he couldn't. Not for certain, anyway. Not without trying, at least.

Next page at 6 pm PST

Just want a little more time. Thanks, guys.

Page 4118

Sermung fell quiet at that.

Hector wanted to say more, but somehow, he doubted that there was much he could tell the oldest servant in the world that the guy hadn't already heard countless times before. Presuming overmuch also seemed like it would be quite the conversation killer here, too. Even with the benefit of his aura reading, he shouldn't act like he knew everything or had all the answers.

Because he certainly did not. That was another thing he knew only too well by now.

Garovel's private words arrived in Hector's mind. 'Ask him about the Yigorosks when you get a chance.'

Why the reaper wasn't simply asking the man himself, Hector did not know, especially considering how keen Garovel had seemed to meet him a moment ago.

Hector took his time, though. There was something in the man's aura again. Something new. Something bubbling up. A question wanting to be asked? Hector welcomed it and just waited, listening attentively.

"...Do you believe in destiny?" said Sermung.

"Not even a little bit," said Hector without hesitation.

Sermung chortled. "So certain. Might I ask why not?"

"Because the world is full of too much nonsense."

"An interesting answer. Too much nonsense, you say? So in your mind, an unfunny joke that makes no sense... is actually evidence of free will?"

Hector bobbed his head a little. "Technically, yeah, I guess so. But really, if free will doesn't exist, then... wouldn't that also mean that... there's basically no such thing as right and wrong? Because we'd all just be doing whatever we're destined to do?"

"...Indeed."

Hector reared back a little at that response.

That was one of the very last things he would've ever wanted to hear from the emperor of the Vanguard. He couldn't help prying into the man's aura again, despite Sermung's earlier protestation.

This suddenly felt far too important to ignore.

"You have a youthful fire in you," said Sermung. "Hold on to that for as long as you are able."

Hector was only partially listening, because the aura was saying so much more now. A sense of resignment. A loss of purpose. Aimless. Hopeless. Boredom. Misery. Countless wounds that had never healed.

And so overwhelming. That was the worst part. As Hector pressed into it, it didn't even resist. If anything, it welcomed him in like a sinking mire, ready to swallow him whole. Drag him down with it. Bring him around to its way of thinking.

But Hector did not budge.