A long silence stretched after the Colonel’s pronouncement. Some of the soldiers around the two leaders glanced at each other, unsure of what they were hearing. Everyone knew even an inferior version of a Lifeseal would benefit the slums immensely. When no sudden caveats appeared from the mouth of the blue-haired Colonel, some of the younger soldiers had hopeful expressions on their faces.
Moish and Tenectoil exchanged a glance; both had fixated on the request to assist in the Master.
They had heard many similar requests before. They were never as neat or palatable as they had been phrased.
Moish cleared his throat, speaking for the first time in the gathering. “What sort of assistance will be required to establish this… imitation lifeseal? Obviously with the continued presence of the Nether, and the ongoing adaptions to the vines that have grown across our area, we don’t have much spare manpower to provide-”
“Memories,” The Master spoke with a surprisingly low voice that rumbled across the parade ground. His mouth pinched into a small o at the prospect of having to explain himself, especially to soldiers. Moish could see the distaste in the lines around the Master’s eyes. “The Lifeseal needs to be weighed down by a dense core to establish it in any location. Especially to tie it to your people's, your memories will be the most efficient medium. The theory is sound, and the result should be extraordinary with my modifications.”
Moish felt a strange chill. He wondered about the early Turtlelines who had come into the Nexus and what they had gone through to establish a safe haven for themselves. Perhaps those prideful-shelled beings had a better reason to jealously police their city’s borders than Moish had realized. “What happens to the memories used to stabilize the Lifeseal?”
“They will become a part of the Lifeseal,” The Master said, as though this result should be obvious. Moish didn’t bother to push the issue further, able to infer from the dismissive answer how little the Master cared. Next to the bearded Master, the Colonel smiled glowingly around at the soldiers, as though to shine positive energy on them so they would be more willing to accept the proposal.
The rest of the soldiers remained idle, waiting for their leaders to sound out this strange request.
“...you have not done this before? You say the result should be extraordinary” Tenectoil’s brows knitted together. The Lizakh rarely displayed emotion, but an undercurrent of displeasure was apparent on his features. “You have not tested your theory?”
Moish heard the Lizakh’s words but also had the strangest out-of-body experience. He stood there, in a packed parade ground next to Tenectoil, but he also stood in a much more sparsely populated flat stretch of ground, facing the exact same trio of individuals. Both layers seemed to press atop one another, yet stood separately. This other Moish was dirtier, hungry, and ached from wounds that hadn’t quite healed yet.In the parallel vision, a cold wind crusted dirt across their arms and legs touching the ground.
That other Moish had the horrible realization that the memories would probably have to come from him or those like him, the last few of the older Homids. Those that had survived the sacking- wait what?- of Homewell and fled with the Turtlelines. It dawned upon other him that the only memories powerful enough to create a Lifeseal would be the memories of an entire people.
Cheap prices the Turtlelines would have been willing to pay themselves.
This Master wanted to bury the culture of the Homids in the ground and allow something else to grow atop it. They would be a sacrifice for the safety of those who had escaped the city.
But that other Moish in an alternate reality, broken and still grieving from all the companions he lost, looked around at the feeble remnants of his people. He thought about the few score remaining Homids, the weeping parents and the silent children with hollow eyes. He thought about how hungry they were. He thought about the cornmeal.
In that alternate world, edible held a powerful draw.
As tears began to form in his eyes at the horrific choice he needed to make, the third figure finally leaned forward. Moish’s vision swam, he also leaned forward in the same manner in the other reality, the one he currently inhabited, and spoke in both. The two voices resonated. “Obviously, it was not easy to gather up these supplies; Homewell had suffered much and the reinforcement convoys from our allies have not yet arrived. Can you understand what a sacrifice it is for us to feed you right now? We live in a society; we thrive when we work together and crumble when split apart. We will help you re-establish your… neighborhood, and in exchange you will do what we ask.”
The last part of the sentence came with a vicious pressure, a hook that sank into the alternate Moish so deeply he released a surprised sob. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he made the decision. He would give up the heritage of his people. Because what matters more than the present? If his people didn’t have the cornmeal, they would starve anyway.
In the present, Tenectoil slowly shook his head. The hook did not find flesh here. “Ah, well, such effort was unnecessary. If you need this cornmeal to feed your people, you should keep it. We will find a way to make do. That is our way.”
All three figures seemed shocked. The Colonel blinked several times, as though unsure of what he was hearing. He glanced sideways at the sharp-eyed man with the goatee. “You… you don’t want the food?”
Moish snapped back into his body, chilled by the alternate timeline he had seen. He squeezed his feet to hide the trembling; it would not do to show weakness here. He wondered if any others had witnessed that world; more than ever, he felt deeply thankful that Nether King Hungry Eye had decided to move in their defense. He cleared his throat. “If there is nothing else, we need to continue the reconstruction efforts. Thank you, gentlemen.”
With a bit of hesitation at first, then with more speed as the three just stood stupidly next to their piles of crates, the soldiers of the slum marched away. Moish scanned the groups; most seemed confused, or some even disappointed they had rejected the offer, but he spotted enough hard-eyed fury amongst the soldiers to feel comforted others had understood the real transaction the three representatives from Turtlelin wanted.
“Do we know who that third individual was? The one they did not introduce,” Moish said quietly to Tenectoil. “There was… something insidious about his way of speaking. I believe he tried to compel us to agree, with the gifts they offered.”
Tenectoil nodded, his pupil so narrow it was almost invisible. “I believe he is the one they call Beigon. A common merchant. Well, we will make sure he does no business with our peoples in the future. Individuals like that… sink their teeth into even the smallest weakness.”
*****
Randidly’s mind buzzed as he considered the possibilities in front of him. He had so many ways he wanted to train, so many aspects of the memory he wanted to investigate, so many looming threats he could scarcely count them any longer. The last two days had been constant motion.
Now, however, he paused and looked at his Status Screen. Because the System notification he had received regarding Ghasthund gave him pause; he had reached fifteen Mille, but how close was he to the tipping point of twenty-five?
The point after which his word would have such a profound meaning a Hierarchy was generated in response?
Randidly Ghosthound
Class: Lord of the Baleful Wood (x5)
Level: 64 (93%)
Health(/R per hour): 30415/32415 (22509)
Mana(/R per hour): 23352/25352 (7716)
Stam(/R per min): 20790/21796 (5017)
Muse’s Reverie: 1/6 (???)
Uncommon Metabolism (Un): 1957
Egg’s Illusory Plume (L): 1522
Primordial Nether Juju (M): 2807
Dreadful Alacrity (A): 3042
Grim Intuition (L): 2866
Predictive Synapses (A): 2742
Chimeric Indifference (R): 2396
Grey Monarch’s Authority (T): 4294
Cognition of the Aberrant Alchemist (T): 2070
Unnatural Capacity (Ru): 2767
Discretion of the Apostate Moirae (P): 5717
Exquisite Piety (M): 3392
Nether Sphere
Fang of the Primeval Betrayal (T)
Weight: 1101 (+61) (+70) (+52) (+49) (+80) (+63)
Connections: 5,310,909,443
Scope: 50,000
Influence: 6,702,966
Synechdochence: 127%
First Authority: Seize
Second: The Hollow Needle
Third: Intangible Burial
Fourth Authority: Animation Nova
Skills (Soul Skill): Figure of the Alpha Cosmos Lvl 484,950 (Next 600,000)
Unique Abilities from Foreign Entity Sulfur (Rarity Rating Impossible): Combat Furnace (U), Nascent Nether Organ (U), Resistant to Force (U)
Moirae of Minute Repercussions (GD): Severing Tide of Amenonuhoko (P) Lvl 1040, From the Chaotic Sea, Abrupt Reverberation (T) Lvl 875, Gospel within the Seething Torrent (P) Lvl 1000, Motif of Unimagined Tolls (GD) Lvl 1025, (Fusion Domain) Helen’s Sea, Cradle of Unlikely Lives Lvl 1100
LoBW Class Skills: Footsteps of a Legend (L) Lvl 902, Spriggit’s Tinkering (R) Lvl 657, Conviction of the Celestial Cataclysm (T) Lvl 1001, Fruit of the Planting of Enmity (L) Lvl 49, Cycle of the Gloomy Wood (R) Lvl 45, Lancers of the Baleful Crusade (L) Lvl 1001, Armory of the Nether Damned (L) Lvl 921
Combat: Heavy Blow Lvl 434, Block Lvl 527, Calculated Blow Lvl 549, Roundhouse Kick Lvl 197, Inexorable Slash (Ru) Lvl 626, The March of Ruin and Valor (L) Lvl 751, Smothering Inevitability (L) Lvl 801,
Dread Homunculus, Nyx Reincarnated (GD): Cloak of Utter Night (P) Lvl 1002, Erebus’ Baleful Waltz (P) Lvl 1005, Humunculi’s Monstrous Tenacity (P) 913, Chimera’s Suffocating Rebuke (T) Lvl 1000, The Wrathful Calamity Rends (T) Lvl 901, Nyx’s Successor Births Fate (GD) Lvl 1001
The Stillborn Phoenix: A Star that Prayed it would be Reborn (P): The Hypothetical Gaze that Consumes the Universe (T) Lvl 970, Hallucination of the Bloodless Heart (T) Lvl 906, Diffracted Corruption from an Avaricious Impossibility (P)(U) Lvl 930, Stigma of the Stillborn Phoenix (L) Lvl 801, Revelation of the Atramentous Threshold (T) Lvl 952, The Twin Lingering Shadows of Misfortune (T) Lvl 1106
Aether Skills: System Interference Lvl 88
Crafting: Architecture of the Primordial Ways (M) Lvl 943, Touch of the Ghosthound (U), Scrawl of the Ghosthound (L) Lvl 475, Ghosthound’s Green Thumb (L) Lvl 752, Heritage of the Origin Beast (T) Lvl 851
Yggdrasil, the Universe that was First a Tree (P): The World Tree Sips from Every Realm (T) Lvl 990, Aureate Arteries of Yggdrasil (T) Lvl 935, Yggdrasil’s Plasm Animus (P) Lvl 961, Marred Yet Reliable Foundation of Yggdrasil (T) Lvl 936, Dawn Opens the Sky and Reality Stirs (T) Lvl 919, Darkness Withers the Horizon and the Waiting Carrion Grins (T) Lvl 969, Spirit Realm of Marshaled Endeavors (M) Lvl 1006, The First Tree Suffers Only Fealty (P) Lvl 957
Auxiliary: Yggdrasil Soul Seed (R), Inspiration (R), Burning Footsteps Lvl 223, Cooking Lvl 101, Soul Bond Lvl 904, Nether Modification (U), Ghosthound’s Acute Nether Nose (M) Lvl 1074, Yearnings of the Nether Heir (P) Lvl 1080 Left Hand of the Nether Oracle (M) Level 987, Right Hand of the Nether Polymath (M) Lvl 945, Infinite Incendiary Filaments of the Dove Moirae (P)(U) Lvl 1142, Casting Blades from Insatiable Grievances (M) Lvl 961, Ghosthound’s Proficiency (U)
In terms of commonly used Skills above Level 950, Randidly had seven, all of which he used enough that they wouldn’t take long until they reached a Mille. And he even had about double that above Level 900, which meant any concerted effort could push him high enough to reach that rather arbitrary of twenty-five.
Which means I can reach that threshold rather quickly, Randidly felt a part of him relax. The end of the notification about the Alpha Cosmos had made him slightly nervous; he knew from the negative subconscious he needed to process that his small universe wasn’t perfect.
Then he scratched his cheek and directed a sardonic smile at the ground. But that just means that I need to figure out what sort of definition I want soon…
Sighing, Randidly put that to the side. Instead, he straightened and moved like a ghost through the busy thoroughfares of Homewell’s slum to where Lowanna was staying. When he knocked on his door, she answered immediately. “I have thought more about the legend of Deganawidah. I think I have some insights into his abilities-”
Randidly raised a hand. “I appreciate that and would love to hear your thoughts. But I also… well, it would be better if I don’t need to have a fight to the death with this ancient figure on the horizon. I hope heading there now, with you, and with a peace offering will buy us some time and clemency.”
Lowanna’s eyes widened. Her voice squeaked. “Now?”
“Now,” Randidly confirmed. Within his Nether Core, Illia’s Nether Prince spun, locked away in a protective cage. It was, he believed, the best chance of avoiding the sort of confrontation that would destabilize the memory and cause all the changes he had created to crumble.
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