Chapter 184
Around us, the funeral ground to a halt. My mothers cries stopped. The line of never-ending people froze in place, along with everyone else.
Hastur repositioned himself, taking a place beside me. Ive been doing some research recently. You can learn a lot about a culture from their fables, and knowing the full picture is kind of my thing.
Uhuh.
I reached out for Azure, Talia. When that failed, Audrey.
None of them responded. I was on my own.
Hastur made a vague, circling motion around his head. One of them stuck. A carpenter
Jesus. I rolled my eyes.
Wrong carpenter. Hasturs colorless eyes twinkled. Anyway, our childless friend builds a puppet to fill the void he feels in his life. Prays to a fairy. Fairy takes pity on him and grants the puppet the most precious gift of all. Hastur made sarcastic spirit fingers. Life. Next day, the puppet wakes up, suddenly aware and sapient. In a perfect world, that should have been the end. The lonely man has a son, and the self-aware puppet has a father. Hes got no strings, to hold him down, to make him fret, or make him frown.
If he wanted me dead, Id be dead. Need to draw this out. Keep him talking. Everyone has a weakness. Just need to find his.
It wouldnt be a story without conflict. I pointed out.
True. Though I dislike conflict for the sake of conflict. Hastur stared through me, then continued his recitation. The puppet lacks a conscience. But hes not evil. Not at all. His desires are simple. He wants to be human.
There really are better ways to make an introduction.
Hastur looked oddly apologetic. Im sorry. For putting you through this. As much as you hate those words, they need to be said. I couldnt think of a better way to show you.
Show me what?
That what you wantwhat you really want, hidden beneath a mountain of denialis attainable.
It hit me like a truck. Why Hastur put me through this. Id felt real empathy for the boy on the overpass. Joy at my sisters triumph. Despair and grief at my fathers funeral. He was showing what my life would have been like, if I was normal.
What is normal?
Youre wrong. I shook my head. Im better this way. If I wasnt like this I would have cracked a long time ago.
Then let me pose a question. Hastur smiled. In a perfect world, one where you were free to pursue your interests, unencumbered by debt, or danger, or existential threats. Would you still want to be what you are?
I dont live in a perfect world" frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
But you could. Hastur rested his hands on my shoulders. In a perfect world, you say fuck MIT. You go to Rice. You major in philosophy and minor in psychology. Because thats where your passion lies. The human condition. What makes us think, feel, breathe. What drives us. The meaning of life. A high calling.
N-no money in it. I stammered, only realizing after the fact how quickly Hastur had gotten under my skin. Rice and MIT were gone. If they still existed in any capacity, probably within their own dome, they were forever altered.
Hastur shook me lightly. Fuck the money. Its a perfect world. You dont need money anymore. Everything is affordable. Inflation, corruption, and poverty are gone, artifacts of an ancient past. You teach during your post-graduate, and discover, despite being utterly convinced that youll hate it, that its a natural fit. On account of your controversialalbeit brilliantdissertation on Kant
Kant? I balked.
I know, kind of mainstream. If it makes you feel better, you spend most of it ripping him a new asshole.
Somehow, it did.
Its quite the smack down. Hastur chuckled nostalgically, as if this wasnt fantasy. As if the dissertation not only existed, but hed actually read it. Then he grew quieter, more serious. Rice hires you before you even walk. They send you all over the world. You read things only a handful of people have ever read. You never stop learning, and using that knowledge. You write more papers that are received well. You find you love the travel, something youve never realized because youve always lived in the same place. And in Italy, you meet the woman of your dreams.
I exhaled. Id been holding my breath without realizing it. Hed been doing so well, only to flub it in the last half.
Shes five years older than you. Accomplished, smart. Smarter than you. She has no interest in a physical relationship, which works out for reasons Im guessing you understand perfectly. You enjoy all the trappings of a romantic relationship, the comfort and closeness of sharing life with a like-minded person, with none of the expectations. Youre happy, satisfied, and fulfilled until the day you die.
When? I asked. If nothing else, I was curious what hed come up with.
At the ripe old age of two-hundred-and-twenty-six. Medicine and life expectancy gets a lot better on account of the magic. Hasturs hands dropped off my shoulders, his face suddenly haggard and worn. The funeral attendees, still frozen in place, blinked out one at a time, until only the two of us remained. Hastur sat down on the front row pew, his eyelids drooping.
A wave of calm washed over me, the effect of whatever hed done to my mind slowly fading. We lost hundreds of thousands in the first event. You expect me to believe any of this is even possible?
If the advent happens before the second event? Yes.
And you said medicine improved because of magic, which implies that, in this perfect future, the system still exists.
Hastur waved the point away. The system is only malevolent because the deities behind it have grown twisted and cruel. They subsist on the spectacle, completely ignoring the purpose of the original design. In my hands, it wouldnt be used to drive conflict.
So thats the plan. Kill the pantheon, I said.
You say that like its absurd. But once I regain my power, every potential future exists at my fingertips. I might be the only one capable of winning that fight, now that your patron is on his way out. Its why they keep me weak. They cant kill me without cause, but they can sure as hell stack the deck in their favor.
The last comment resonated. It occurred to me that the sudden wave of tiredness wasnt an act. It made little sense otherwise. This would be the perfect time for him to project strength. Bolster his image. Instead, he looked
Exhausted.
There was no point in beating around the bush. You know why Im here.
I do. Hasturs lips split in a pained smile. Weve danced this dance countless times before, your predecessors and I.
Then why am I still breathing?
Hastur looked me up and down. For one, that veil of yours is no joke. I couldnt kill you here even if I wanted tonot without breaking enough rules to finally give them an excuse to pull the plug on me. I could massage the Order to do it, in time, but truthfully, I dont want to.
Still waiting on the why.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Because youre right to be angry. Because I cant fully control the Order in my current state, and they seem more than comfortable using any means to justify the end.
As reasonable and genuine as he sounded, it didnt change what happened. I saw Jinny, struggling to breathe, blood leaking from beneath her hands. My friend died because they didnt give a shit about collateral. Bled out in seconds.
I know. Hastur looked nauseous.
Because of their actions, another friend was changed in the cruelest way possible.
Thats an exaggeration, but Im aware.
I nearly punched him.
They were luring Users into a region and killing them for cores.
Hasturs mouth tightened. Aaron is ambitious. Overly so.
I clenched my fists at my sides. That doesnt even begin to cover it.
The pew squeaked as Hastur leaned forward. The necromancers research will bear fruit, though youll need to be patient and finesse him.
So I didnt dare to hope.
There will be a chance to bring Jinny back. What happened to Sae? That can be undone far more easily, though it will take some doing. The rest Ill find a way to make it right.
I couldnt trust him. I had no reason to. But hearing him say it, rocked me.
He rubbed his forehead and suddenly interjected. Want to guess how many times weve worked together?
The previous Ordinators?
Yes.
Few.
A grand total of zero. Hastur corrected, closing his eyes. The pause was long enough that I almost thought hed fallen asleep. Not that there were many of them I would have cooperated with to begin withthey tend to be completely off the deep end. Youre not even close to that far gone. Not yet. Of the less difficult candidates, most of them died early.
And the ones who survived?
Lets just say the pantheon has a talent for turning them against me. Hastur opened one eye and looked me over. Returning to your list of sins. Youre correct. Theres no excuse. No apology I can offer to make things right. That being said, some concessions are in order, regardless. He opened his hand and a clear, crystal bottle appeared. The liquid, visible through the ornate transparent patterns that decorated the outside, was completely colorless.
I reached for it. It fit snugly in my palm, no larger than a health potion. When Hastur pulled his hand away, someone had dropped a fifty-pound weight in my hand. I fell to one knee, nearly dropping it to the ground. Christ.
Description: A collection of tears painstakingly collected from an Asura over thousands of years. These powerful beings slayed many gods over eons of terror before they were finally brought to heel. Few have seen such a marvel. Even fewer still know the extent of the mysteries within. Highly potent. May cause a major cataclysm if dropped. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
After I skimmed the description, I slowly turned to Hastur and glared.
Probably should have mentioned it was heavy. Hastur said.
You think?
Definitely should have mentioned it was heavy.
Carefully, I moved the potion towards my hip with both hands. It slipped into my inventory easily. The description was useless. What does it do?
Youre going to want two. Ill give you the second after the advent. Hastur shook his head. As for what it does, its best to let you discover that for yourself. Youll want to have a decent alchemist look over it. He hesitated, then added. Preferably one sworn to silence. Under guard. Completely isolated from the outside world. Did I mention under guard?
You did.
The skin beneath Hasturs fingernails was slowly turning black, spreading into his nail bed and up his knuckles. He watched the spread with grim interest. Drew too deeply for the prediction.
Our time was growing short. I couldnt help but draw the parallel between this and my first encounter with the Allfather. A conversation that left me with far more questions than answers. If it was anything like that encounter, this might be the last chance I had to talk to him.
A dozen questions rotated through my mind, before I finally settled on one. Why me? Im not a god. And sure, the Ordinators power grows exponentially, but that's still relative. Im just a User with a special class. Why are you willing to put so much on the line for a gamble?
The darkness spread down Hasturs forearm, the blackened skin turning to dust, the top section of his arm disappearing before my eyes. From the way he grimaced, he wasnt impervious to the pain.
I hate to gamble. But youre already aware of the turmoil growing within the order. Aaron made a mistake bringing Sunny into the fold. One of many. Now hes paying for it. For as long as they stay entrenched, sniping at each other, the division will spread. Only a fool... fights a two-front war. One of them has to go. It doesnt matter who, but for the future Ive forecasted to come to pass, the infighting needs to stop. Quickly.
Another hand, looking to use me as a knife in the dark. My mind was clouded, filled to the brim with thoughts and theories I couldnt even begin to unpack.
I understand. It felt undignified to stay and watch, so I turned and headed towards the church entrance, an unperceivable weight settling on my shoulders.
And Matthias? Hastur called after me.
I turned. The darkness accelerated and spread quickly, eroding his mouth and jaw. He smiled like the Cheshire Cat, even as his face crumbled.
You were right. Youre not a god. Not yet.
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