Slumrat Rising

Truth worked quickly and methodically, letting Incisive guide him from those most urgently in need of help to the least. Not that there were any light wounds. Other than a few children and a handful of Level Zeros, most of the bus was filled with Level One citizens. Their apertures collapsed. They were in utter agony, and worse, they knew it was never going to get better. Until it did. Until two strong hands were placed on them, and a miracle happened.

It slowly got quiet by the side of the road. The healed just watched Truth work, not stirring from where they had fallen. A few shushed the terrified children, pointing at what was happening and telling them to watch closely. When the children whispered “Why?” the parents didn’t know how to respond. How do you describe this? Not just the impossible healing, the simple fact that they were healed at all. They had signed no contracts, made no promises. Even if they had, this person was so far beyond them, their petty labor would be worthless.

A man possessing power beyond their comprehension had been sitting on the bus with them, dressed in workman’s trousers and a black tee-shirt. He was muscled like he did heavy labor for a living. And yet, he could heal them. And did heal them. And had asked for nothing. There wasn’t a place for that in their minds. It just didn’t add up. But here they were. It was happening. Everyone should watch. They would surely never see the like again.

Truth felt a great quietness. His hands moved steadily, healing strangers. They weren’t the Sibs. Some little part of him kept coming back to that. These people were not, in any sense, the Sibs. He owed them nothing. Less than nothing. They were already fortunate if he chose not to bully them. But here he was, healing them. For free. Repairing the links between body and soul. Links that would be shattered soon enough.

Doing it for no other reason than he would like the world to be this way. Doing it because it would be nice if, someday, when he was in a jam, someone would do the same for him. No deep thoughts. No great insights. Just the good work.

They aren’t the Sibs. And that’s okay. They don’t have to be the Sibs. It doesn’t always have to be cash on the table. I have that much margin. I am…

He looked up into the rain feeling it fall down on him as his magic worked through the woman below. Losing himself in it.

I am safe enough that I can take that risk. I am rich enough that I can spend on these people.

He felt a helpless smile stretching across his face

He didn’t keep track of time, or how many he had healed. There was only the person in front of him. It didn’t take all that long. Just long enough to save a life. It took him a minute to realize when he had healed the last person. No one else needed his help.

Truth stood, gathering in all the emotions swirling around him. Letting them reinforce his presence. The images and beliefs were powerful, but formless. The watching passengers and the bus driver didn’t know what to think. They didn’t have the words for this either.

“You don’t owe me. You owe the next person. It’s all about the get-back, right? Nobody feels safe enough to stick their neck out these days. What if someone takes advantage? But I stuck my neck out. You already got paid. You are in a no-risk situation here. You help out the next person who needs it, and if they don’t pay it forward? No skin off your nose. You did the right thing. And next time, they won’t get your help.”

He could feel his words helping them put the pieces into place, reframing everything in the familiar shapes of contract and fear.

“Someone had to be the first person to take a chance. Someone had to be the first person to risk that loss. Let it be me. I can cover that bet. I don’t need flashy jewels or a flying cloud. You guys can be my wealth. My investment. And when you pay it forward, and tell the next guy to pay it forward, and so on and so on… my investment will grow like crazy.”

Truth shook his head slightly. He didn’t know what else he could say. So he turned towards the highway, gathering his presence back around him. Letting himself fade into the rain.

“Senior! Senior! What… who are you?”

Truth looked back and smiled. “I’m a true son of Jeon. A Holy Fool and a Hell Prince. I’m the rat that looked up. Who am I?” He laughed, a warm, honest sound that made everyone smile along with him. “Does it matter? The question is, who are you?”

Truth vanished into the raindrops before his voice stopped echoing across the verge.

The strange mood persisted as he crossed the hills and valleys. He occasionally mixed in the Earth Folding Step, trying to let Incisive guide when it would be most effective. It actually worked. He was hardly eating up the miles using it, but his range was slowly growing. He didn’t try to think through what just happened. It happened. He felt good that he had done it. It was different from the pointless altruism he had done before.

In a small way, he had shown a few tens of people the great lie. He had opened a path for them. Would they take it? Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not. But the path was open for them. They didn’t have to be rats any more. At the very least, he gave them space to look up.

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He came to a stop by a road sign and looked up into the rain again. Just watching the rain falling. It was gray, but all that water was life. It was the root of everything.

“I wonder if this is how Manda sees the world? Creating endless opportunities for people, if they can see them. If they will just look up, and embrace the rain.” Truth stretched his hands towards the clouds that covered the sun. “Life hurts. It’s not fair. It’s never going to get better on its own. But you can look up. You can choose how you respond to the pain.”

Truth bent over and got into a sprinter's crouch. Time to see how fast he could get to Harban. He had an awful lot of work to do.

Harban remained… well it remained. There were fewer roadblocks now. Maybe they just weren’t cost effective anymore, or the soldiers were needed on the war front, not the home front. The shine had gone off the richest city in the world. Now it just feels sad. Like it had lost its soul and its spine at the same time.

There had been several floating buildings in Harban, enormous apartment buildings, office buildings, that kind of thing. He didn’t see any of them from outside of the city. He didn’t know if they fell down or were brought down intentionally. Either way. Not a good sign.

No need to attempt the Earth Folding Step. He could feel it wouldn’t work for him. Not until he understood it a whole lot better. Didn’t matter. In Harban, the only way to get anywhere quickly was to fly. He could steal a cloud or something but, well, he did still have that military ration card.

“TAXI!” He waved down a carpet from the street corner, officer’s uniform proudly on display. The carpet came swooping down straight away.

“Where to, officer?” The pilot was still using the polite words, but the pacing was off. You could smell the tension on the man. The carpet company must be forcing him to fly. Or his landlord.

Truth gave him the address.

“Oh, Megashroom?”

“You know that building just from its street address?” Truth was genuinely surprised. That building had been utterly anonymous when he visited last.

“Oh yes. Things have been going berserk over there for the last month or so. Just hoards of people coming. I hear they bought out the whole building.”

“Wow! Why, though?”

“It’s the rallies, I expect. And all the trainings.”

“Sorry, no idea.”

“Oh. Well. You know how Megashroom is pushing that big self reliance thing? Faith, Family, Prosperity? All that stuff. Well, it really took off. Now they do big promotional events supporting their community service drives. There are big prayer rallies too, in the arena next to the office. You were smart to hail a carpet. The subway there is packed.”

Truth stood outside the office building where he had exterminated one CEO and installed a new one.

Actually… that wasn’t quite right, was it? More like he had liberated a CEO? Replaced one personality rewritten CEO with another? Truth didn’t subscribe to moral relativism, but he was having a hard time pinning down where on the moral spectrum his actions at Megashroom landed. Probably bad.

“Maid, attend me.”

A few seconds later, a cloud of smoke raced from the top of the building and landed in front of Truth. There was a twist, an inexplicable compression, and then there was a maid. Beautiful, but not too much so. Fragile wrists and a delicate neck, bashful eyes looking demurely down.

“My Lord returns draped in power and anointed with authority. His garments are woven from the banners of the defeated, and the slippers upon his feet are victory itself. This little maid feels the world twist and contort itself to your will, for it is by your will the existence of all things is conferred. Glory, Glory, Glory to the Mighty One.”

Truth’s mouth twitched. Succubae were air demons. It seems some traits were category wide.

“How goes it?”

She smiled prettily. It was the only way she could smile.

“Does my Lord mean his acolyte, or the servants he commands?”

“Niles. I’ll ask him directly about Megashroom.”

“He no longer thinks of his old identity. He has not forgotten it, exactly, but he remembers it vaguely, and with unease. It seems to him, now, as a time when he walked in a fog. Scared, alone, aimless. Now he has light, warmth and safety. He glories in his labor, and is proud that he can complete such a difficult task as the one you set for him.”

“He is happy.”

“Yes, my Lord. He is happy. Frustrated, alarmed, occasionally scared or furious, but if I was to pick one word to describe him, he is happy. His God has given him power, status, purpose, and has bidden him to make the lives of others better. What else could he be but happy?”

“So, if I told him I had mastered a spell that could return him to who he was and where he was before we met, he would refuse it.”

“He would beg to know how he had failed you, and offer his whole life as penance. My Lord, for all intents and purposes, that one-time clerk is dead. Your acolyte lives, joyfully.”

Truth nodded. “Lead me to him.”

Truth walked into the CEO’s office, the door held open by a bowing Butler. The room had been completely redecorated. Light, airy, full of pictures of people with their families. Working together. Everything about it was filled with vitality. Kneeling in front of the desk was Niles.

Truth stood and looked down at the man. Really looked at him. Saw all the good, and all the bad, and understood something that the Succubae never would. It didn’t matter if Niles was happy. Didn’t matter if he was thriving. Didn’t matter if this was the best he had ever had it. Niles was not free, and probably never would be. And Truth was responsible. It was his choice once again. He could shrug at it, ignore it, press on with his life. God knows he was leaving thousands of bodies in his wake as it was. What was one more life?

“I am sorry for what I did to you. Sorry for what I am going to keep on doing to you. I don’t think I can ever make it right. But so long as I can, as much as I can, I’m going to do right by you.”

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