Slumrat Rising

“It comes down to a change in the relations between people. No chance in Hell I’m going to be able to shape the government after the collapse. But I can set up cadres of young, fit people, people trained to operate in a no-magic environment. People that really believe in teamwork, and the notion that one person can’t win if everyone else loses. It’s got to be win-win all the way around. Competitive with outgroups, certainly. But internally? Strong bonds.”

Truth chopped the air with his hands. “And their parents will pave the way as best they can in the next couple of months. Set the doctrine, start building caches, start spreading the good word about the virtues of mutual support.”

“Yes. And since the collapse is coming in… less than a year?”

“I wouldn’t bet on anything over eight months myself, but I have heard estimates as long as another year.” Truth shrugged.

“Well. That does change our plans. Everything will have to be aggressively accelerated.” The former clerk turned CEO frowned, clearly thinking things through.

Truth coughed lightly. “Has it been difficult being CEO?”

“Pardon, my Lord? Yes and no. Yes, it is a difficult job. Exhausting. Endless decisions to make, endless eyes on you. Immense power, but equally immense responsibility. But it was not so hard to pick up on what needs to actually be done, thanks to Butler and Maid. The secret was aggressive amounts of delegation. Having two strong Succubae with me really eased the leadership transition.”

“I can imagine.”

“I really can’t do it without them. I owe them both so much.” Niles looked at them with immense affection.

It wasn’t affection. It was love. Not necessarily romantic love, but it was love all the same. Starbrite had actually warned Truth about this. It’s not that Succubae want to hurt you. It’s that you can’t help but fall in love with them. You can’t help but lose yourself in them. It’s why Truth was so cold with Maid and Butler. Partially it was the persona, but more importantly, it was self protection.

“Speaking of duty and debts, Maid. Butler. You have clearly done the task I assigned you very well. Continue to assist Niles in his duties, unless otherwise assigned. Now, consider this a bit of back pay.”

Truth tapped into his magic, recreating a trick he first used on the boat ride from Conjin. He poured his magic into his blessings, Incisive, even Cup and Knife, all to put forward one idea. To nail down one inescapable fact. The two clouds of Hell-gas in front of him were actually people. One was Butler, the other was Maid. They were his obedient servants, and content in the role.

“We thank the Magus for his generous gift!” They chorused.

“Not a gift- owed for services rendered. And speaking of. Niles. I am going to try something.”

“My Lord?”

“I want to give you as free a choice as I can manage. No promises. Now don’t move.”

He eased into it with Cup and Knife. There were things there he could fix, but he was now familiar enough with the spell to spot an immediate glitch. Just as he feared. The spell didn’t consider what Truth did to Niles a problem. How the enlightenment got in wasn’t important. Just that it got there.

It occurred to Truth that while Manda had been a broadly positive force in his life, he could only see a very narrow view of the totality of what the angel did or believed. It was flat out insane to think an angel could be benevolent.

He changed tack. He pushed on the Blessing of the Brass Sea, hammering his orthodoxy over an area. It wasn’t right to brainwash random clerks just because you were in character and could. It wasn’t right to break a man, make him dependent on you, make him blindly obey you, just because it was convenient. It would be right to give him a choice. As free a choice as he could make.

There was the damnedest pause. A moment where the magic seemed to be asking “Really? Really? Do you think that makes the least blind bit of sense?” Truth was stubborn. It might be stupid, but he would do it anyway.

“Cup and Knife.”

He could feel this spell bucking his will too. Manda clearly didn’t agree, but the zone of orthodoxy had, if not changed the rules, nudged them slightly. At least enough that the spell went off, somewhat. He’d take it. For what he wanted, there didn’t need to be a dramatic change.

There was a tiny space. A singular moment-

“Who do you want to be? I can return you to the man you were before, or close to it. I can return you to your family. For everything you have done, and everything I have done to you, I swear if I succeed in killing Starbrite, I will reserve seats for your whole damn clan with the Shattervoid. Or you can keep on being Niles Bowman, CEO of Megashroom. You will put into action everything we have discussed today. You will use your own initiative to push my goals forward. You will do your very best to save everyone you can. You don’t have to worship me as your Lord any more, but I won’t stop you if you want to. But it’s your choice. At this precise moment, you are as free as I can make you.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Truth’s cheek twitched. “I can take your family off-world either way, if that matters to you. Lots of seats I have no intention of filling available.”

For the first time since they met, Niles looked him directly in the eyes, and smiled. “You are a damned fool, sir. Those words don’t mean what you think they mean. Freedom? Choices? When have I ever had those things? I was born into a clan, failed to impress anyone, and was quietly shuffled off where I could do minimal harm and still bring some value. The highest I would have risen was General Manager of the hotel in fifty or sixty years. I could have left it all and become a coolie somewhere, but… no.”

Niles laughed softly. “I tried my very best. I got good results. I did what I was supposed to. And it was worthless. I didn’t get it. The clan didn’t need a grind. They needed someone who dared. Just like you said. They needed someone who dared. I didn’t dare. So I got to check guests into a small hotel run by my grandmother. And that was it. That’s who I was.”

A smile spread across Niles face, reaching up to his eyes. Truth met his gaze. There was madness there. Actual insanity, of a very narrowly defined sort. He clearly hadn’t understood his spells nearly as well as he thought. Something was shifting in Niles, for better or worse he couldn’t say.

“I am happy now. I have power. I have real responsibility. I am making lives better. I love, and am loved. You tell me that I will save tens of thousands, maybe millions, from a brutal death if I do this job. All that, and I get paid a fat stack of cash, live in a beautiful apartment, have all the sex I want, eat good food, and when I need my suitcase time, I have two wonderful people who can give it to me. Fuck my clan, and fuck going off-world. This is exactly where I want to be, who I want to be, and I can’t imagine doing anything better.”

Truth felt Cup and Knife shifting around in his grasp. He could see bits of the spell coming together, seeing things connect that hadn’t connected before, filling in missing pieces.

“My name is Niles Bowman, your servant and apostle, now and forever.”

The spell and blessing resonated, confirming his words. Reality shifted, very slightly but quite permanently, around them. The night clerk was dead. Niles Bowman lived. Truth sighed and let the spell go. What did he really think would happen? Did he really understand what he was asking? Probably not. He just felt like he had to try. To make the offer. To be something other than a spoiled Prince.

“Maybe I like the illusion of choice more than you do. I won’t tell you my name until Starbrite is dead. Somehow, I feel like if I speak it, he will know. And then things will get very bad, very fast. You may continue calling me Lord for now. Why did you change from Prince, by the way? I noticed Butler and Maid did that too.”

“Because you are no longer the Prince, but you carry yourself as king. Uncrowned, but king. What could we call you but Lord?” Niles said all that like it was the most logical, reasonable thing in the world.

Truth could only shake his head and laugh. “Do you know where I can find Susan?”

“Yes, my secretary can give you her address.”

“Alright. I will be in Harban for a little while longer. If I think of anything else, I will let you know. Until then, continue as we discussed. Butler, Maid, keep up the good work.”

They bowed. “Hurry home again, my Lord. We miss you.” They chorused.

Truth strolled up to a frankly gaudy mansion in the Subra district. Not the old money, nor even the big new money. If anything, the Subra district was famous for people being poor, though not denizens. Perhaps that's why the Anak family chose to build an eye-searing palace to the vices of excessive wealth.

Ornamental columns everywhere. No rhyme or reason to them. See an eve, stick a column under it. A circular driveway with a fountain in the middle of it… in the middle of the most expensive city on the planet. A load of the windows were incredibly detailed mosaics in stained glass, though he couldn’t make out what they were from the outside. Not with all the multicolored bright lights bathing the exterior marble sheathing in fluorescents and pastels.

The doors were four meters tall and made of bronze. The door on the left had an incredibly muscular, incredibly nude woman on it. The right door had an equally nude man on it, so muscled, Truth wondered if there were any muscles left for anyone else. They were surrounded by crushed and broken enemies, heaps of treasures and weapons, as well as piles of meats and grains.

The Anak family was a lot of things. Subtle wasn’t one of them.

Truth knocked on the door. Nobody answered. He knocked harder. The silence wasn’t deafening, it was a noisy street, and he could hear music inside. Truth therefore decided to experiment with how loudly he could smack a bronze door without actually damaging it. It seemed like an unusual alloy. A few thunderous booms later confirmed that it was as tough as he thought. Fun! He started banging on it like a drum that owed him money.

There is always someone ready to ruin a good time. The door was yanked open. Two meters of slab muscle and cruelty under heavily gelled hair and a long beard yanked the door open.

“You got a death wish, fuckhead?”

Truth punched him in the face. Punched him a few more times for luck. Tripped him, got him on the ground, made sure to bury his knee where it would do some good, repeatedly, then resumed the face punching. The big bastard tried to fight back, but Truth had levels on him. Not to mention the Meditations made sure there wasn’t going to be an advantage in physical strength.

“Alright, you look about right. Now hold still, this bit is a little fiddly. I need you to send a message.”

Susan was relaxing in her tub. It took specialized pumps to drive sufficiently powerful water jets to do anything for her muscles, but this was Nephilim tech. The tub was delightful. There was a knock on the door and her dickhead cousin stuck his head in.

“Somebody’s here to see you? He said that you would know who?”

She gave her cousin a filthy look “You couldn’t ask… Oh. OH! Sweet! I’ll be right down!”

Carved into her cousin’s forehead, in surprisingly neat letters, were two words- “Knock Knock.”

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