Godclads

[Voideater Proposal]

By Wu Three-Burdens and Golgo 9

Summary: As is known to the committee from the war-sims our alliance has run regarding the Dawnfall Contingency, our non-thaumaturgic assets will last a few seconds at most if Voidwatch decides to turn their wrath upon us.

Functionally, our technological base will suffer immense damage even with the redundancies provided by joint efforts between the No-Dragons and Omnitech. Likewise, our conventional forces are completely decimated regardless of what protective measures are taken.

Voidwatch is by far our superior in technological development and theory of knowledge. There is nothing we know of the natural world that they have not mastered several times over.

Hence, the solution is simple but extreme: for us to win a lightning war against the voiders and prevent them from granting their favor to our foes in the hypothetical war game, we must layer our miracles to strike the very foundations of their technology. Doing so inflicts substantial costs on all parties, but the simulations have shown few other paths towards toward swift and decisive victories.

Combining breakthroughs in Omnitech’s manipulation of signals, man-made constructions, and memetics with a specialized virus engineered using our curse, we believe that we can infect the very concept of “creation” itself. “Unmake” technology for a time, if you will.

However, the inflicted damage will be severe and beyond control. As the virus requires the use of a dragon to perpetuate itself, all areas it infests will be lost to us until a Godclad manages to engage and subdue the entity, while all things man-made will cease to function as intended. Additionally, all assets will find themselves… castrated in terms of creativity and thought.

Subhuman, by all metrics.

As we could not risk Agnosi involvement in such a project, we were unable to focus the effects on a specific part, so all things created by humanity in terms of culture or material will fail.

During this time, our Godclads will have free reign to disable our greatest foe via a blitz offensive before securing the dragons. Thereafter, Omnitech will be granted the right to interface with voider technology to turn the higher knowledge to our advantage against our true foes.

Through these means, we stand the best chance of disabling our benefactors without devastating their culture entirely or inflicting unacceptable casualties as mandated by the High Seraph. We put forth this mem-data for peer review, and look forward to hearing a response.

-Voideater Proposal Draft 1

16-1

The Path Ahead

Half-life of Neurodeck canceled

->Unlocking full functionality

Allowing access to Noosphere - Category Green Access granted

Allowing access to the Inventory - Category Red Access granted

Scanning cognitive profile of user…

->Profile generated

Recommendations: Request neuro-modification immediately

User is currently rated as [SEVERE] danger to broader public

The simulation congealed as the simulation thickened in a blurred haze, and the obfuscation settled around them. Ghoul and machine both were once again on the boat. This time, the grand castle was banished from sight, and they floated forth on placid waves toward an horizon unclear.

The island and the aqueduct were no more, but the weight of the revelations lingered still.

“Ignore the neuro-modification request,” Calvino said while more text strings played across Avo’s vision. Addition datapackets threaded into his mind and he found himself wrestling the contents like a newborn learning to control its small motor skills. “The system's trying to gauge how safe it is for you to be wandering around one of our habitats. Living among the public like most people we bring up from the planet… that’s probably not happening anytime soon.”

Avo grunted. “Probably for the best.”

“Yes. Or you can apply for one of the many modifications now available to you and turn yourself into an omnivore.”

The offer came as a surprise to Avo, but something inside him flinched at the thought of changing himself in such a way. Flesh had been the staple of his consumption for the entirety of his recollections. To abandon such a fixation might grant him more flexibility and social acclimation, but feeding without harming or killing seemed wrong to him. A breach in the pattern, if he continued down that line of thought.

There was no such thing as free flavor in Idheim, no empty meat. All nourishment came via sacrifice: flesh, imps, or deaths.

“Will look at it,” Avo muttered, trying to wrestle his thoughts under control. Shooting Denton a quick look, the corner of her lips twitched and he wondered if that was her rendition of a reassuring smile. “Something I have to ask. In the end. Something was forgotten. Don’t think either of us fully justified ourselves to the other. Just saw what we did. Saw that were were both… flawed?”

The EGI let the question hang for a beat before it responded. “Sophonts are more than ideology, Avo. But we’re also less free than you think. Operative Zein will give a you whole speech about this but… everyone has a shape. From a single person to a collective of cultures. The nature of who we are carved by all the things that happen to us. In the end, the paths we take are…”

Calvino stopped talking. Avo suspected the EGI wasn’t truly at a loss for words, but wanted someone else to fill in a response so it could guide the question. There was a subtly to how it acted, less manipulation and more free-form persuasion.

“Fixed,” Avo offered, playing the game. “So. We’re trapped by fate.”

“You can always choose to change. But change is an action. Change is a practice. Change is repetition. And that’s all born of want.” The drone descended and set itself on the prow of the boat, its glowing core directed toward the gleam of the waters carrying the sun’s light. “It’s not about being a saint or even being good sometimes. It’s about being able to see yourself and being able to inflict change through active decision because there’s no guarantee that someone else can do it for you.”

The artificial intellect laughed. “One lives alone, even in the presence of others.”

The small boat sailed on, and a somber silence commanded the party to keep to their peace. For a while, Avo just gazed out across the waters, thinking of how he viewed himself.

With each Heaven, each implant, each phantasmic, each change he regarded himself as new. Different. More.

This wasn’t just the act of self-actualization, but self-sculpting.

He could, therefore he was. But he believed, and therefore, he became.

Such was the insidiousness of internal mythologies.

Feeling inward again, he touched the cold wound where the beast’s ever-present hunger and brutality should have been.

The beast. Was it even truly as separate as he liked to think? And now that he was striding the steps toward apotheosis, did it still remain just a construct of the mind, or did he grant it matter as well?

“Some training sims will be made available to you,” Denton said, intruding with matters of business. “I have offered to make myself responsible for your training and familiarization with the necessary strategies for our operations going forward as a member of Aegis under Voidwatch.”

He regarded the Columner once more and found himself uncomfortably grateful. The results of this meeting were only possible because she pushed for it, and now she continued to go forward without mention of benefit or reward.

How strange it was that the EGI was an easier character to gauge than Denton herself. Ever the diplomat. Ever the spy.

Receiving tutorial dense-soft

Accept? (Y/N)

“What’s this?” Avo asked.

“Something to accelerate your learning,” Denton said. “Modifications for your sheathe and small-scale armaments will be made available to you via mental schematic download. Due to the Nu-Scarrowbur incident and the Unwhere’s compromise, direct transfer of materials will be difficult but also unnecessary. We should consult with Agnos Kusanade after this interview concludes; your modified Sangeist might be able to serve in place of a fabricator.”

“Serve in place,” the Woundshaper sneered. “As if I could be second to a cold machine that must be enslaved and prodded by the mind of another to indulge in true creation.”

The Galeslither released a low breath of mockery. “So you claim, but here we are living a shared fate.”

“Be silent, mule. Our wills’ are aligned with the master. We are more avatars than slaves.”

“...You might speak truly, mother of butchers–no machine would strain so hard to create such an illusion as you.”And thus ended any meaningful dialogue as another the Heavens crumbled into another argument.

Still, the prospect of being able to generate his own arsenal–or even modify himself at will–teased Avo’s appetites.

“Well. Shouldn’t delay this too long.”

“Indeed,” Calvino said, “but before that, one final thing.”

EGI binding request from {If On A Winter’s Night A Wanderer}

Accept? (Y/N)

“What’s this?” Avo asked, frowning at the new text building across his vision.

“I would like to transfer a limited version of myself into your Neurodeck to aid you and monitor your progress. Two minds are better than one, as they say, and I think that our continued association might prove worthwhile for both of us if for the perspective differential alone.”

“And if I do something you disagree with?” Avo asked. “Have to justify myself again?”

“You are a part of Aegis. I am more your associate. There is no need for superiors or slave masters here. Whatever is done, it will be faced as we have today. In retrospect. And honesty. Of course, you could say no, but I saw you as you learned and saw how you looked upon your past. It would take a degeneration of character for you to look away from your flaws, and I fear you spent too long in the light now to ever be satisfied in the dark.”

A moment of silence followed. Unable to fight the mood, a weak smile pulled Avo’s features in a fanged rictus. “As if my mind wasn’t crowded enough already. Might regret this, Calvino.”

The EGI hummed a melodious note. “We’ll see.”

***

"Lonely Vator. Struggling Vator. Curious Vator. Trying–desperate to find out what happened to cause all this. Won’t you take pity on me?”

A handsome artist spoke to the cube he was sculpting. Running a hand through his silken locks of glistening ebony, Vator Greatling released a sigh and flourished dramatically for his new creation.

“So, picture this: your oldest brother is dead. Truly, truly dead. Your ever-responsible sister has made a terrible blunder, shamed the family name, and is now in voider custody. Meanwhile, your poor, poor father—oh poor father–is breaking under this strain. He tries to survive the pain of never reconciling with brother dear but fails, so he goes to a Necro and gets the memories removed. He tries to get your sister free but that strange, curious entity of a man Naeko has decided to make a stand."

His art piece answered with a whimpering chorus of pleas intermingled with the release of bodily wastes. The wedge of melded tissue was twenty feet high and eighty wide. It weighed fifteen thousand and eighty-two pounds and is made from the contents of forty-two individuals. Three minutes and fifty-two seconds was what it took to peel the squires from their armor and stitch them organ to organ, skin to skin, bone to bone.

Rendered into the shape of a cube, he had affixed all the eyes, noses, brows, mouths, and teeth he could find to the frontal aspect of the piece. The sides had the ears and the top had the hair. The arms formed a sort of miniskirt that ringed the midriff of the unified creature while little legs aligned on junctions of miracle-hardened bone struggled to keep standing even as urine and excrement splashed down between the gaps, incurring additional points of infection and inflammation.

Still, all their pain was as one, and that was a gift unto itself. Loneliness was the greatest crime inflicted on humanity. He hoped that his victims knew that he loved them despite his suffering. Regardless of the case, he had made his devotion known through efforts and words. To believe, ultimately, was up to them.

“Speak. Speak to me. I wish to hear your voices.”

“Hurtsss…”

“Kill–kill…”

“Fu-fuc-fuck.”

Ah. Utter incoherence. Looking at how much thoughtstuff was oozing from their accretions, perhaps more than a few of them had gone insane during the process. Vator placed his hands on his hips and frowned. “Oh, but the ordeal could not be that bad, could it? It was painless, my dears–painless. I give your nerves only pleasure for this process. So, why is it–”

SESSION INCOMING: [FATHER-DEAREST]

“Oh,” Vator said as his excitement dipped. “Excuse me. I must take this.”

This was going to be about official matters. How droll. Accepting with a thought, Vator turned away from his composition to spare himself another lecture.

+Good afternoon, father. I trust that sisters-dear has finally been–+

+Vator. Not now. Not today. I need you to not be yourself, and just listen.+

And father meant those words. Usually, he was more annoyed and accepting. This was rage, genuine and heavy.

Poor, poor father indeed.

Vator cooed. +Speak to me, father. Tell me what you need from me, and I will make everything better for you. What is it you want? Do you want me to hurt that terrible, dreadful Chief Naeko? Or to bring Abrel home? Tell me. Tell me and let’s be done with this sadness.+

A storm of emotions hissed from between the cracks of Uthred Greatling’s ironclad will. All strength had its limits, and all hearts could be broken in the end. Vator waited patiently as his father mustered his control once more.

Turning to face the single soul he didn’t touch using his Heaven, Vator smiled sweetly as he willed the biomass around his chest to part, and allowed the Syndicate lieutenant to draw in a ragged inhale of air.

+An assembly is going to be called. By the High Seraph. We have been summoned. By name.+

A tingle of excitement fluttered through Vator’s stomach. Oh? The High Seraph? Veylis Avandaer herself? He remembered seeing her once–what beauty, what form! For months he tried molding various subjects in an imitation of her righteous presence but destroyed each in the process.

None of them had that something she possessed. That singular quality above all others. He had drawn from a broad spectrum of stock–flats, squires, Necros, leaders, mods-slaves–even a Fallwalker.

None came close. His skills were too lacking, his grasp of her limited.

This time, perhaps if he could get her to speak to him directly, to spend some time alone…

+I will represent our house. I alone. I need you to handle matters of the homefront–to manage our operations and estates and retrieve your sister from the Paladins.+ There was a pause that followed. Vator smirked. There was something else father wanted to ask. Something he was reluctant to ask.

Those requests were Vator’s favorite. +Just speak, and I will make it happen.+

+There is a name: Aedon Chambers. He was involved in the incident that–I need you to do this discretely. Our name–our very position is threatened. We cannot risk another blow, and I cannot risk you descending into another one of your episodes… where are you right now?+

Vator didn’t answer immediately. +In an apartment. At Light’s End. I was… investigating a potential operation on one of our subsidiaries.+

A pause followed. +I see.+ Father wisely left the questioning at that, and Vator couldn’t help but grin as the man ignored the moaning in the backdrop. +I need you to find this Chambers. Find him quietly and discover exactly what happened. Afterward, bring him to me–+ A radiant smile spread across Vator’s features. +–Alive and untwisted.+

The radiance died. Vator sighed. +Your words, my will father. I will see this done. I will see our family protected.+

A weary sigh followed thereafter. +Good. Get Alritch to help you handle accounting and logistical matters.+

+Alritch?+ Vator frowned. +Are you certain?+

+He’s not that useless,+ Uthred muttered.

Self-comfort was truly one of father’s worst traits.

+Very well,+ Vator said. +I will be returning home shortly. I just need to finish with things here.+

Another pause. Father knew. Father knew but he didn’t want to ask. +Vator. Quietly.+

+Of course, father.+

The session disconnected, and Vator spun on his heels to finish with his word.

“Not that much time left today, consangs, not much time at all.” He clicked his tongue and placed a palm on the flesh. Desperate sobs and muffled choking followed as he linked ribs together and pushed them through the skin on the back of his creation. Thereafter, he drew upon what his Heaven remembered of ghoul-flesh and a thin membrane of palest white began to develop between each arcing rib.

“I’m going to give you wings,” Vator said, smiling. “I’m going to give you wings for you to go home later. Your families would love to see the angel I’ve made, wouldn’t they? Ah. That will take too long. I think I will just leave you all in the foundry you were planning to bomb. They will find you later in the evening. Don’t worry though, you won’t be dying. Not anytime soon. Not for years unless I will it.”

He placed his cheek against his art and enjoyed the warmth. “I think I will call you, ‘Community.’”

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