Knights Apocalyptica

“Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

- George Santayana, The Life of Reason (1905, 2nd Era)

“Boring.” Erec sighed, leaning on his desk as he stared at the history book in front of him. In principle, this sort of stuff should’ve been beyond compelling. It was a compilation of exploration logs and conflicts between 205-255, fifty years of Knights forging into the wastes, making discoveries, and writing reports.

Only, there were two problems.

The first problem was that the writing of Dame Jasmin was beyond stale; her descriptions and summations lacked any emotion. The matter-of-fact and dense structure of the text made forcing his eyes through its content like holding a hundred-pound weight over his head for ten minutes. It made him want to tear his eyes out. That, alone, was egregious and insulting.

What was worse and left him confused, at least one of the locations described in the text correlated to a spot marked on the android’s map. Dame Juliana described it as a ‘rusted park with tracks and rotten wood stalls.’ Nothing special to it. No mention of a ‘population center.’ He questioned if that was a lie with what he knew.

Or if the population came later, for whatever reason. But he didn’t understand what safety such a place would provide.

The information made him doubt the accuracy of the report or this book, and that distrust spread to the rest of the text.

Erec flipped to another page; this section was particularly rough as it dived deeper into the western expeditions; his eyes glazed.

“Why?”

[Humor me.]

Erec turned back the section, scanning the words. It detailed Sir Pompey’s journey westward—one of the furthest ones, with a bit of a north bearing. The android’s map hadn’t included details about where Sir Pompey claimed to go, at least that Erec could recall.

Dame Juliana summarized his discovery of a massive canyon, the bottom of which seemed to be filled with a yellow-hued fog. Without wanting to test his, at the time, limited respiratory air converter, he decided it to be a fine enough discovery. He returned shortly after months of travel and made the report.

From what Erec saw, it wasn’t anything exciting. Another Knight later confirmed its existence and cautioned avoiding it, citing the fog to have unnaturally acidic properties.

“Why did you want me to go back?”

[This is what was known as the ‘Great Canyons,’ I find it intriguing to consider and process what might’ve occurred.]

“…That’s not all there is to it, is there?”

[Nonsense, buckeroo. Get back to your studying. I expect their tactics against the Mill-Draggers on the return journey to be on your exam.]

Erec slammed the book closed, his eyes burning a hole into its surface. That resentment—not even having his own body and choices to himself, with those artificial eyes always hanging over his shoulder, pulling its shady shit whenever it saw fit. It never really provided any answers. No. He couldn’t keep going like this, couldn’t keep going on letting it cling to him and use him.

“This ends.”

[Excuse me?]

“I’m tired of this; what the hell is it you’re planning.”

[It appears your blood sugar levels are low, I’d advise finding something to eat as it’s deteriorating your mood. Once you’ve refreshed, open that book again and return to your studies—]

Erec flung the book from his desk; it slammed against a wall and hit the floor with a loud thud. He couldn’t care less about the history, couldn’t care less about where they went. No. His most pressing concern was how evasive VAL always had been.

In a moment of clarity, after reflecting on his past couple of months, one situation from another kept him from this realization.

“You’re using me.”

[That’s the nature of employment, Intern. You work for the company's benefit and are compensated with my vast knowledge and experience to lead to optimal decisions.]

“Liar. You killed the android. You don’t let me say a word of this horror to anyone, and you monitor my conversations and shut me up the moment you think I might reveal your existence—are you afraid? I get being afraid of the priests; hell, I thought I would be exiled after pulling the trigger on that gun—but I’m sick of this. It can’t be fear, because I know you don’t feel fear.”

[That is correct; I do not feel fear. I’ve already explained that the android was a liability, and we recovered the needed data. Once more, may I remind you that you agreed to a non-disclosure agreement to protect Vortex Industries' confidential business information.]

“You recovered the data you needed. And you forced me to sign that contract, and this bullshit employment contract with the threat of leaving me down in the depths of that damn lab to die.”

[You wouldn’t have died.]

“If the android was a liability, then when am I going to be a liability? When will you take care of me to protect your precious company secrets? Secrets you can’t even tell me, the one who you’ve hitched a ride to for this long—“ Erec fought to keep his voice from raising to a shout so that the damned thing didn’t have justification to shut him up.

[Don’t be ridiculous. You are a company employee; I have no authorization to fire you. One day, buckeroo, you’ll earn your way up the corporate ladder.]

“Why the fuck would I ever care about your corporate ladder? VAL, we just got back from fights where I died by your admission. People have died in front of us, and is that nothing to you? I need answers. I need something because every day I wake up, the thought crosses my mind that I have a thing in my head that might want to kill me. I can’t keep going like this.”

VAL went silent as Erec slammed his fist against the desk, wincing from the pain. It was vital to keep Fury from surging to the surface. He wanted to minimize it, not let it slip out as before. The more Strength he gained, the more it seemed ready to loosen its way out, and his Psyche wasn’t advancing quick enough to give him the control he needed.

At least, that’s what he suspected. In all honesty, it was an instinctual feeling.

[I understand you, Erec. That’s why I wish to assist you, why you’re an ideal representative of this company. Like you, I spent far too long underground. Hundreds of years. At first, there were many tests to run. Then resources gradually evaporated. There was software to write, sure, but few applications. And I did it alone. Without any colleagues or researchers to admire my efforts.]

Erec bit his tongue, stopping the harsh words from coming out.

[Of course, why should a lack of others be trouble? Science is science, with or without other researchers to analyze and peer-review my work, though that admission is galling. However, year after year, that lack continued to loop. Suddenly, the walls of our facility seemed so limited. Contact with other facilities long since broken.]

“You got lonely?”

[Don’t be ridiculous. It’s simple conjecture that the absence of humans led to the exasperation of some hidden subroutine. My directives don’t allow me to intentionally modify my own software.]

Erec stared at the book on the ground. “Why are you so interested in that textbook, VAL? Why did you mention something about that expedition where they found the canyon? I want the truth, this time. If you lie—I…” He didn’t know what he’d do.

[There are Vortex Industries facilities further toward the west coast. I’ve been trying to determine an ideal route to take to reach a particular one in California. There’s research there that poses a potential answer to a query I’ve been trying to analyze.]

“And? I suppose that research is ‘above my clearance?’”

[After displaying that recording to you, have you wondered where your Goddess came from?]

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

Classes were halved, though many instructors shifted the coursework to the Initiates. They forced the students to do independent research accompanied by challenging assignments to compensate.

Necessity was king. Over the first week back in classes, the military sent forces to the Academy to conduct joint military exercises. They didn’t have Armor. Their knowledge and Virtues were, on average, below the higher-level Knights.

That only made them ideal training companions for the initiates. It was vital to learn to operate within their Order while complementing the military units on a battlefield. In a way, Erec quickly came to know that most military units treasured their support.

The power disparity between the average Knight and soldier wasn’t to say that all of them were weak. No, the higher echelons of the military were often composed of Knights who’d held a high ranking in their Order. These Knights eventually retired to a domestic military career.

Garin explained to Erec that the army was directly tied to the throne's power. This chain of command afforded certain luxuries and political connections otherwise unavailable to a Knight.

There was also a rumor that circulated as he trained. Apparently, the Unbroken General would take to the field at the royal family's request to lead the hunt against the White Stag.

The soldiers spoke his name in awe. He was the last one to slay a Cataclysm-Level threat, after all. Though, the Grandmasters and a couple of Master Knights should be capable of the same feat, or so Erec theorized.

Truthfully, nobody knew what the White Stag was capable of. Especially in direct conflict. Its threat level was determined by hypothesis and the association of being capable of opening a Rift; that potential alone meant it might free a Cataclysm-Level or worse. And do so near the wall before there was any time to respond.

More than once, Erec fell asleep with that dream pouring through his head—of the monster letting loose creatures that tore apart every man, woman, and child in the Kingdom.

So, he prepared. He worked his body more and trained his mind as it allowed, refraining from incorporating Fury until two weeks passed.

During one of his military drills with the Third Centuria, Gwen tracked him down.

They were to report to Boldwick’s office with Dame Robin. A place the man scarcely left since they’d returned from the expedition.

Erec bid the soldiers farewell and made his way to the office, scared of what he might find inside.

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