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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.

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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.

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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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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.'