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.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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"Aha," said Sermung, his voice hardly muffled by his gleaming helmet. "Indeed, I know the feeling. Might I ask your name, young man?"

"Hector Goffe of Atreya." It seemed a bit unnecessary to return the question, and yet it also seemed impolite not to do so. "And yours, sir?"

"Sermung. A pleasure to meet you. I've not seen armor such as yours in a very long time." He paused. "Oh, and my apologies for waltzing up to you unannounced like that. The sight of you was just making me all manner of nostalgic, and I couldn't help wanting to ask you a few questions."

What a remarkable aura this guy had. So warm and welcoming. Calm and friendly as could be. Utterly confident, too. Perhaps even to the point of... not arrogance, no. What was that?

Boredom? Huh? No, his sense was probably off. Still too new to this whole thing. But--hmm--wasn't there also something deeper? Something... terribly familiar, actually? No, there wasn't--

"You've an interesting aura about you, too," said Sermung, tilting his head ever so slightly. "But I'd ask you to stop probing, please. That's impolite."

Hector paused. He felt at once apologetic for accidentally prying--but also suddenly quite certain about that slightest hint that he'd picked up on. Which felt rather ironic, because if Sermung hadn't said anything just now, then Hector knew that he would've just chalked it up to his own misinterpretation.

Still, it wasn't exactly something to comment on, now was it? Especially when they'd only just met. Of all things, Hector knew that only too well.

Hector elected to remain silent. If it wasn't a subject to be spoken aloud, then even an apology would be too much, wouldn't it? Especially when he could already tell that his own aura would get that feeling across just fine.

And indeed, after another moment, he sensed a shift in the emperor's aura. It was apologetic, as well.

Ah. Hector understood. The man had also picked up on that same familiar feeling, hadn't he? Of course he had.

Hector found himself wondering how many people would have been able to. He'd have to be more careful in the future around fellow aura-sensitive people.

"Seems you caught me in a moment of weakness," said Sermung. His aura was more rigid now, and Hector couldn't sense that familiar feeling any longer. "Unfortunate. I hope that doesn't become a burden to you, someday."

"...If it lightens the one on your shoulders by even a little, then I won't mind carrying it."

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Hector noticed that the reaper was using his public voice now and so decided to do the same. "Well, it's definitely safer than what was about to happen. Did you see that shit?"

'I did. Tentacle monsters. Yigorosks, most likely. I told you they were real.'

"You already did the whole told-you-so bit with that, you know."

'Well, everyone loves a sequel. Anyway, I didn't realize they could appear in such numbers. That's not good news.'

"Where did they even come from?" said Hector. "It looked like they came from underground, but I didn't sense their auras down there. It felt more like they just... appeared out of thin air--or, out of thin rock, I guess. Those weird mini-volcanoes. It was like they spawned in there."

'Yeah, Yigorosks are pretty fucking strange. I don't think they're all necessarily--' The reaper cut himself off, and it didn't take Hector long to understand why.

That aura was back. The overwhelming one.

Sermung's.

And it was close. Right beside him, in fact. And in the next moment, the Scarf of Amordiin confirmed that for him.

A few months ago, Hector probably would've jumped out of his own skin in a situation like this. Such an incredible, oppressive presence just instantly appearing. Hell, even with the benefit of his aura sense telling him that this man meant him no harm, a part of Hector still wanted to do that on pure impulse.

But today, here and now, Hector Goffe of Atreya remained steady. "Hello," he said, quite calmly, as he turned around to finally lay eyes on this man that he'd heard so much about.

And indeed, there he was. Just floating right there next to Hector's platform.

But it wasn't just a dude. It was a fellow dude in plated armor.

"Hello," said the most powerful servant in the world, as casually as could be. The man's armor shone so brilliantly that it almost seemed to be glowing.

It was a little hard on the eyes to be honest, but Hector was just so enraptured by the sight of it that he didn't much care. He'd never seen anyone else in medieval armor--excepting those whom he'd put in there himself, of course. Thankfully, his own faceguard was covering his gawking.

"Interesting armor you've got there," said the Crystal Titan. "Is that Late-Mohssian inspired?"

Hector needed a moment. "...Probably a little bit, yeah. I tried not to get too fancy with it, but, uh... well..."

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'What the hell is this?' thought Hector as more boxes kept appearing, shunting off chunks of the city in the distance. He hadn't necessarily expected Garovel to have an answer for him, but after a few lingering moments of silence, the reaper did.

'...The Crystal Titan,' said Garovel.

Hector was both surprised and somehow not. That briefest flash of an aura that he'd sensed. While he hadn't recognized it as belonging to Sermung, it did have that kind of overwhelming punch to it. Greater than anything he'd ever sensed before.

But where was it now? Hector couldn't tell. But apparently, Garovel could? 'You can sense him?'

'Not anymore. But for a split second, he was definitely there. About a hundred meters north of us. I'm sure of it.'

So close. Hector hadn't sensed anything that specific, but it had all happened so fast. Honestly, he was kind of impressed with Garovel. 'How are you so certain? There was so much going on.' Unconsciously, he started hovering toward the spot that the reaper had specified, though he didn't actually expect to find the strongest servant in the whole world just chilling there.

'This is the heart of Vanguardian territory. I've been hoping to recognize his soul signature from the moment we first arrived.'

'Huh. Wow, that's, uh... impressive. In a stalker-y sort of way.'

'Oh, don't start.'

'You only met him the one time, didn't you?'

'That's all we reapers need.'

'...You're not gonna, like, freak out if we do actually meet him, are you?'

'I might.'

Hector couldn't help snickering under his breath. It didn't take long to close the rest of the distance, and sure enough, no one was here. 'This the spot?'

'Roughly, yeah.'

'So, what? He just blipped in and out of existence or something?'

'Or something, most likely.'

'Hmm. You wouldn't happen to know how he did that, would you?'

'If I did, I would've taught it to you months ago. Anyway, what about your weird new senses? What are they telling you?'

'Uh...' He looked up and down at the mountainous black box that was only a few meters away now. 'It's kinda hard to sense anything with these behemoths all over the place now. They're like black holes when it comes to auras. Just sucking in everything around them.'

'Oof. Don't like hearing that. Doesn't make me feel safe at all.'

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Hector could scarcely comprehend what he was witnessing. The visual noise in front of him was just as confusing as the overwhelming aura information, and the Scarf certainly wasn't much help, either. Just trying to parse through everything required the entirety of his focus.

Civilians? He couldn't sense anyone, but maybe they were just getting lost in all the madness.

Then the groundswells began to take a more noticeable form. The massive chunks of earth sharpened themselves into smoldering spires.

And from them, even more mayhem emerged.

His aura senses picked it up first.

A swarm. Hundreds of little auras. Maybe even thousands. And they were so alien in their structure that he could scarcely be sure that they really were souls and not something else entirely.

They spilled from the rock formations like fire ants out of a hill, scuttling down the side and out onto the open street. Or up the sides of buildings. Or flying through the air.

Those definitely were not insects, though. It took a second to register, but that was a sea of tentacles and splashing blue-green ooze.

And the auras. Confusing though they still were, one thing, at least, was clear. They were the source of hostility that he'd sensed.

A pure, distilled intent. Destroy and devour. Reduce and absorb.

Overwhelm and conquer.

Instinctively, he wanted to dive headfirst in there and start getting in the way. Causing problems for whatever these freaks were. But he wasn't alone out here. He had a group of people to think about. Abandoning them wouldn't be smart, especially when he knew next to nothing about these weird tentacle monsters.

Before he could decide to head back down to the ground, however, yet another disruption arrived. And it was only telegraphed by the briefest flash of a new aura.

Hector didn't even get the chance to wrap his mind around it before he saw colossal structure there, encasing almost everything in front of him within a giant black box.

It was sudden and so massive that its appearance left a shock wave in its wake, nearly throwing him off his hovering platform.

And just like that, the swarm of invading monsters seemed to have already been contained.

He rose up even higher into the sky, only to see more gargantuan boxes filling the city, even covering entire clusters of skyscrapers.

Page 4113

"Pardon me, senator," Hector had to say, holding up a hand. He didn't wait for the man's response, either; and he turned back through the door they'd entered. He was looking for the Basilica's courtyard, and with the Scarf, it wasn't hard to find. He could sense the others following close behind, but none of them were saying anything, perhaps because they knew there was no point.

It was suddenly occurring to Hector that, despite all this gallivanting around the city and meeting with influential people, he'd still not discovered the source of that "screaming" that Roman had heard when they first got here.

And it felt particularly unsettling, because that background noise hadn't really gone away. It was distant enough and quiet enough that he'd been able to get used to it, almost to the point of forgetting about it entirely, but here and now, he was getting the dreadful feeling that it was about to start ramping up.

This awful aura. Hungry. Thirsty. Eager. Looking to inflict pain.

He could feel it everywhere. All directions. Did it cover the entire city? That seemed unlikely, given how huge Andeyal was, but man. It sure felt like it.

Hector didn't stop at the courtyard. He went up on a hovering platform, not even waiting to bring the others along for the ride. Something told him they might be better off where they were.

He ascended quickly, soon gazing over the Basilica and into the vast cityscape.

Still, nothing was quite clear yet. According to his eyes, at least, everything looked normal enough. It was just this horrible knot in his gut. The massive aura in all directions felt like it might make him sick.

'Sense anything else yet?' Hector asked.

'I think it's coming from the north,' said Garovel. 'It feels like there are tons of souls over there now, when there weren't before. Or at least, they were all kind of migrating to the southwest. Now it's like... I don't know, exactly. They feel off, somehow.'

Hector looked in the designated direction. Skyscrapers blocked much of the view, unfortunately. Perhaps Loren would be able to--

Everything began to tremble. From this stable position in midair, unaffected by it himself, it looked somehow even more disturbing. Like the city was suddenly floating atop a choppy ocean.

Then the ground began to swell.

Up and out at different points. Explosive bursts. Upturned earth. Sometimes as small as a car. Other times as massive as an entire building.

Page 4112

The man fell quiet for a moment, apparently needing to think about that. "That would depend on what type of approach you wish to take," he said. "If you want to be quite direct and speak to a leading figure in person, then I'm sure you don't need advice from me to find an appropriate target. They are all plenty famous without me hyping them up for you, eh?"

Hmm. Was this guy being cautious? Trying to read his aura, that was the impression Hector was getting. Perhaps he didn't want to reveal too much about which of the big name Vanguardians were currently in the city.

Which was disappointing but also fair enough, Hector felt. It at least implied a sense of loyalty and conscientiousness toward the Vanguard. That was admirable in its own way. And Hector was about to move on when the senator decided to keep going.

"...But if you would like to take a more subtle approach, then I might suggest speaking to a woman with red hair named Delilah. Or a man with glasses and dark hair named Ruben. They might be able to help you, if you can conduct yourself respectfully--and with a little charm, perhaps. That never hurts."

Well, it was something to go on, at least. Those descriptions were a little odd, not even bothering to include last names, but Hector resisted the urge to press for more. He had a feeling even just saying that much was already being fairly generous. Plus, it seemed likely that Jacobson wouldn't even know much else about them, especially if they were quite well-connected. Hector knew that the higher ups within the Vanguard had a tendency to conceal their histories and familial connections for reasons of safety.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Hector. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. Now if I could perhaps--"

The man kept talking, but Hector suddenly became very distracted. For two different reasons.

The first was that Garovel began talking privately, and Voreese began talking publicly.

'I'm sensing something extremely strange.'

'What in the fuck is that out there?!'

And indeed, that led into the second reason. Hector might not have had their reaper senses, but he did have his aura sense now. And it was certainly telling him something. He had no idea what, but it was strong. Distant. But strong.

And it felt hostile.

Page 4111

"So you'll do it?" said the senator.

Hector held up a hand. "I can't promise anything. We will be heading down there eventually, so I don't mind looking for her, but it might be a while. We have other things to take care of first."

"Ah. The aforementioned Prince David?"

"Yes."

"Is entry into Livingston all that you are looking for from me?"

Hector paused, again wondering why this was being asked. Somehow, he had the feeling that if he said yes here, the guy would refuse to provide it until his wild goose of a grandmother was chased down.

Typically, Hector would've preferred to lean on his tried-and-true tactic of leaving a question unanswered and letting the other person draw their own conclusions, but here and now, that actually seemed like a bad idea. The senator might very well conclude that Hector was out of cards to play--which he kinda was, of course, but he'd rather the man not realize that just yet, if possible.

So instead, Hector decided to change topics and ask, "...What is the nature of your relationship with the Vanguard?"

Jacobson breathed a curt laugh. "Quite the question. I sometimes find myself wondering the same."

This time, Hector did remain quiet and merely waited for an answer.

The senator seemed reluctant to provide one, however. "Why do you ask?"

Shit. Uh. "...I'm also interested in meeting with them before I leave. I'm wondering what you can tell me about them." Phew.

"Oh. Well, they are a rather reclusive bunch, most of the time. While they do, theoretically, make themselves available for meetings via liaisons and so forth, the reality--as I have discovered--is that it can be quite challenging to acquire a proper meeting with their higher-ranking officers. Which is understandable, of course. Politics can be quite the minefield, after all."

Which was a long-winded way of saying that he didn't know much, Hector surmised.

Still, that was a little surprising. Prince David had recommended this guy. And if Hector was operating under the presumption that the prince had been "influenced" by some Vanguardian psychic, then shouldn't this senator dude have been able to tell him more?

Ugh. This guy hadn't had his mind messed with, too, had he?

What a pain in the ass.

Hector wasn't quite ready to give up, though. "If I do go and meet them, who would you recommend I talk to?"

Page 4110

"...Yes," said Hector, wondering why that question was even being asked.

"And yet you are also not on bad terms with them, either?"

At the moment. "That's correct."

"Then perhaps you could assist me with something," the man said. "I've asked the Vanguard, but they are quite busy with everything going on, right now."

"I'm not exactly full of free time, either," said Hector.

"Oh, of course, but this is very important. I assure you."

Not so important that the Vanguard wanted to take care of it, though. Hector kept that thought to himself.

"...I would like you to check in on my grandmother," said Jacobson. And before anyone could respond, he added, "I know how odd that sounds, but you see, she has been missing for a few days now, and with everything else going, I am beginning to worry."

"So you want me to find her, then. Not just check in on her."

"Well, I know roughly where she is..." The senator paused to scratch his jaw. "She is, um... underground. In the old capital. Where few dare to venture at all, much less alone."

The same place that they'd just come from? Hector wasn't terribly keen to head back down there, especially so soon, but there was something else bothering him first. "This 'grandmother' of yours..."

"She is undead, yes. And she is quite powerful, as well."

"Why did she go down there?"

The man sighed. "She... has a new boyfriend, apparently. And she wants to impress him."

Hector's face flattened inside his helmet.

"This man is... an academic, I suppose. And she wants to collect rare samples for him. Or at least, that is my understanding. Perhaps there is more to it than just that. In fact, I hope there is, because the more I think about it, the more it infuriates me."

"Sir, I think I understand why the Vanguard turned you down..."

"Yes, yes, I know. It is not the most urgent of matters, and she is probably just fine, but still, if you find the opportunity to go down there and look for her, then I would be immensely grateful. Despite her eccentricities, she is a long-standing pillar of my family. My wife in particular adores her and is very worried."

"Alright, I get it," said Hector, stifling a sigh of his own. He wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed by this whole conversation.

Page 4109

And perhaps it was Hector's turn to speak up, but the strangeness of this entire encounter was beginning to give him pause, so he decided to hold off a bit longer and see how this guy reacted.

The senator did not seem phased. "It's my understanding that you wished to see me," he said.

"...We'd like access to Livingston Grand Castle so that we can visit our prince." There were other questions to ask, too, of course, but that felt like a decent place to start.

Jacobson tilted his head. "Interesting. And yet... you have already taken quite the gamble by trespassing here at the Basilica, no? So why not simply go trespass at Livingston, instead? Would that not have been quicker?"

A pretty good question, Hector had to admit. "Because I spoke to Prince David on the phone, and he said to look for you here in the Cathedral District."

"Prince David... Ah. And you, the Lord Darksteel of Atreya." Jacobson paused for a chuckle. "I had not even made that connection. How odd." He seemed to sense that his audience was confused, so he motioned with hands and shook his head apologetically. "Forgive me. I have only recently met Prince David, though he did leave quite the memorable impression on me. And you, sir--I have only recently begun hearing about. But again, I have been left quite impressed. It had not yet crossed my mind that you two were linked, but of course you would be. Atreya is quite the interesting little kingdom, it would seem."

"...We'll take that as a compliment," said Hector.

"As well you should," said the senator. "Your part of the continent is oft overlooked, as I'm sure you know, but in my estimation, that is no bad thing. We should all be so blessed to live in such a peaceful land as that. I hope you take great pride in your country, because it is doubtless a very special place."

'This guy's a politician alright,' remarked Garovel privately.

Hector elected to remain silent, though did offer the man a nod, at least.

After a beat, the senator took a couple steps to the side and touched his chin before glancing at the small party of onlookers again. "...So you were told to come to me for assistance by your prince. In helping you obtain entry into Livingston. I see. And from what I understand, you are not affiliated with the Vanguard, yes?"

Page 4108

'Huh,' thought Hector. 'Is that really true? Or are you just being prejudicial toward religious people again?'

'Excuse you? I'm just telling you what I've observed over thousands of years. It's not my fault if it makes certain kinds of people look bad.'

'Uh-huh...'

'With that said, I'm not trying to argue that every religious center in history has been this way. But if you stop trying to roast me and just think about it for a second, it'll make sense. Religious institutions often enjoy special exemptions from governmental oversight--or are directly in bed with the government themselves. So smuggling operations become easier to conduct. Lots of built-in cover.'

'You make it sound like religious groups only ever take advantage of governmental goodwill. We both know they get persecuted by governments pretty frequently, too.'

'You're putting words in my mouth. That's not what I was getting at. In fact, I wasn't even saying that smuggling is necessarily bad. Oftentimes, it is, sure. But other times--when a government is being particularly oppressive, for example--smuggling can become quite the important and even noble practice. Which may be another reason why religions have often played big roles in uprisings and rebellions.'

After that, Hector made no further counterargument, in part because they seemed to be arriving at their destination. He could sense various strong auras around the Basilica--a couple of which must have belonged to the other senators that the prince had mentioned--but the nearest one, through this next door, was most likely Jacobson.

The guards led them into the room without hesitation and then--after a brief word and nod from the presumed senator--left them alone with the guy, which was a bit of a surprise.

How did they know Hector's group wasn't hostile? Even if they knew him by his reputation, wasn't this a bit much?

"Please, sit!" said the sharply dressed senator, motioning to the conference table and its many seats. "Welcome, welcome!"

Those beautiful wooden chairs looked like they would cry under the weight of everyone's armor. Or just get obliterated entirely.

"Thank you, but we'll stand," said Hector.

"As you like," said Jacobson, not letting his smile diminish as he took up a position at the far end of the table himself. He elected not to sit down, either.

To Hector's eyes, the man looked like he was ready for a TV appearance. All dressed up like that. Black-and-gray hair perfectly styled. Given the state of the city, Hector would've expected this guy to look a bit more disheveled. Or at least wearing more casual attire.

Page 4107

There was plenty to see, apparently. Between the Scarf of Amordiin and his aura sense, Hector could tell that there were all sorts of sneaky hallways to go down. And were those hidden passages? Secret rooms?

Yeah. The way the air flowed through some of these places was definitely odd. Cracks between the floor and certain sections of walls.

Oh, wait a minute. Maybe those weren't just hidden passageways. Maybe they were actually defensive features. Designed to be deployed during an invasion. He'd read about such things before. Medieval architects would sometimes create labyrinthine hallways that could be manipulated by the defenders in order to both disorient and even trap any attackers.

Hector had employed a basic version of that concept with that crude iron castle that he'd built atop Warrenhold, but this was obviously much more advanced. With a bit more focus, he was able to sense entire hidden rooms that seemed to be packed full of gears and levers and big turning columns. Entirely mechanical? No electricity needed?

Interesting. He could certainly see the value there. In the event of a prolonged siege, one had to account for the possibility of power outages and electronic warfare. It would certainly be good as a fallback, if primary systems failed.

Moreover, building elaborate rooms for such operations would also make it much more viable for even non-servants to aid in the defense of a fortress. Theoretically, people could be trained to use whatever crazy bullshit he could dream up. Which would make Warrenhold safer even while he was away.

Come to think of it, that was kinda the claim to fame of the Rainlords--or of their Arman ancestors, at least. Those people had been master trap-builders.

Hector wondered if any of the younger Rainlords might be interested in that type of thing. He had a rather strong feeling that they would.

Still, the more he observed this place, the stranger it seemed to him that the Basilica would be concealing such a convoluted defensive system. Nothing else about the building seemed like it was designed with sieges in mind, so maybe these movable hallways and secret rooms had actually been built with something else in mind.

...Perhaps to hide something.

As they kept walking, he decided to privately consult Garovel with his findings.

And indeed, the reaper provided quite the fresh perspective. 'Well, historically speaking, religious institutions have often served as nexus points for smuggling operations.'

Page 4106

He decided to simply wait. The others in the group seemed a little anxious by that decision, but no one protested--not even Voreese, which was a surprise. When the guards got there, Hector stepped forward.

"The Basilica is currently closed, and you are trespassing," said the foremost guard. His gear was very modern and tactical, making Hector wonder what he must've been thinking about their group's sets of medieval plate armor. "Please identify yourselves."

Did they really not know that already, Hector wondered? Perhaps they just wanted confirmation. "I am Hector Goffe of Atreya, serving under Ambassador David Lumenbel, Prince of Atreya." Wow, when did introducing himself become such a mouthful? "These are my friends. We'd like an audience with Senator Jacobson."

The guard in front paused. "One moment, please." Then he chattered inaudibly into the radio on his vest, waiting for a response, then answering, waiting, answering, back and forth for a while.

Hector remained patient and simply observed the group of guardsmen during the downtime. The auras were all calm, solid, but also very attentive. Watching him like a band of hawks.

Their eyes seemed to be especially keen on the large cube floating in orbit around him. Bartholomew hadn't seemed to give it any mind, but maybe he'd just been better at hiding it, because these guys were clearly wary of it.

The longer the Ceese remained in there, the more Hector questioned what he was going to do with it. Was he really gonna have to keep carrying it around the entire time he was here in Intar? And then take it all the way back to Warrenhold? Maybe he should've shown it to Bartholomew and gotten his opinion on it.

Bah. Well, it was fine for now. He could still sense the Ceese's aura in there. Totally subdued and docile. If it started getting agitated, that might become an issue, but so far, the thing hadn't moved a muscle.

In fact, it might've been playing dead. Hmm.

At length, the leading guard got back to him. "Alright, please follow me. The senator has agreed to meet you."

Damn, just like that? Hector wasn't about to argue, but it was certainly surprising. As the group started walking, a background thought process began to question just how surprised he should feel here. As in, should he be suspicious, right now? A senator he'd never met agreeing to a meeting so easily?

Yeah, maybe a little suspicious.

But in the meantime, he also intended to enjoy this little tour of the Basilica.

Page 4105

Sure, it was almost certainly the work of psychics, but what was the exact method of observance? And how far did the range extend? Could it be disrupted? Did Bartholomew have a direct line to these psychics, somehow? Was he actually psychic himself?

...Or were these unseen psychics actually just evading his senses?

Unsettling questions, the more Hector thought about them. As much as he'd been relying on these new senses lately, he didn't want to fall into the trap of thinking they were infallible--that no counters to them existed. Just because the Sparrows in Atreya didn't seem to be aware of them didn't mean that these Vanguardian Sparrows--or whoever else--would be unaware, too.

Before they'd left, however, Hector had asked after the possible locations of the senators that "Prince David" had mentioned. He'd been a bit reluctant to do that, figuring that Bartholomew probably not even answer, but to his surprise, the captain actually did.

He gave some rather precise directions to all three of them, in fact.

And now, with the new context of everything the little man had told them about the current state of the city, Hector had a much clearer picture of what his senses were telling him.

Senators Jacobson, Leoric, and Morris. Apparently, Hector had his pick of them, now. Between the powerful auras that he was sensing and the intel from Bartholomew, Hector felt like he could pinpoint each of their locations.

Shame he didn't know anything about their actual temperament, personalities, or reputation. He might've been able to make a truly informed decision here, rather than just picking one and hoping they weren't an insufferable asshole.

He decided on Jacobson. That was the one "Prince David" had mentioned first, after all.

The big cathedral in the center of the district was the destination. The Basilica of the Heavenly Ending.

Okay, maybe that had played a small role in Hector's decision, too. But they had to visit this place before leaving Andeyal, didn't they? Especially after seeing it from so high up in the air like that earlier. Hector would've been thinking about it all the way back to Atreya, if they didn't.

As soon as they touched down in the walled-off property, Hector sensed people beginning to head in their direction.

'Well, they know we're here,' advised Garovel publicly. 'Lotsa guards coming this way.'

Uncomfortable but still fine, Hector figured. He was pretty sure they'd be able to negotiate here.

Page 4104 -- CCCXXVI.

On second thought, Hector's head tilted. "I suppose it could've been Mr. Norez, too. But... it wasn't him, right? He wouldn't say that about me..."

"As I said, it was a compliment," said Bartholomew.

Hector cocked on eyebrow inside his helmet. "That implies it was him..."

"You're really hanging on to this..."

Voreese glanced Hector's way, then snickered. 'I didn't realize Harper was such a two-faced slanderer. You've really corrected our opinion of him. Thank you, Captain Erickson.'

"I am not, in any way, endorsing that view."

'It's in the subtext. Don't worry. We got it. We're sharp like that.'

"...Perhaps 'busybody' was being too charitable."

'Oh yeah? What would you say is a more accurate term for Hector, then?'

"Troublemaker."

Hector eyed the group briefly. "I feel like I'm getting blamed here for something I didn't do..."

Voreese hovered behind him. 'Y'know, if people say that trouble follows you around, then that would make us the trouble, wouldn't it?'

"Don't sound so proud of yourself," said Roman.


Chapter Three Hundred Twenty-Six: 'Onset of damnation...'
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Their encounter with the young captain didn't last much longer from there. After giving the requested details about the location of the local Vanguard headquarters, Bartholomew saw them off, staying behind in order to take the apparent Abolish instigator into custody.

Part of the reason Hector had not immediately agreed to follow the captain there was because he'd been concerned about it being some sort of trap. He figured that if the captain actually allowed them to leave without issue, then the invitation was probably a genuine one.

Which indeed seemed to be the case.

Hector hadn't necessarily expected the guy to try and fight them all on his own just to prevent them from leaving, but it also would've been somewhat telling if Bartholomew had tried to insist or otherwise push them to follow him--or stall for time, perhaps, so that his comrades could show up and even the odds.

But Captain Erickson hadn't pressured them in the slightest.

A good sign, Hector felt. Or an indication that the kid was just incredibly confident in himself.

On second thought, that might be true regardless. It had to have taken some serious guts to just walk up to them like that all on his own. At no point had Hector sensed any form of backup arrive.

It was hard not to feel a little paranoid about that, though. It was obvious that their group was at least under observation, what with the way Bartholomew had just shown up out of the blue, so why couldn't Hector sense anyone?