The Zombie Knight

Warrenhold sure was feeling different, lately. And not just because of the restoration efforts, Roman felt. There was something more. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Something to do with Hector.

This place. What exactly was it transforming into, he wondered? A place of safety? Refuge for all who needed it? Or an indomitable fortress? A headquarters from which an empire would be built?

Could all of those things be possible simultaneously?

Voreese seemed to think so.

Morgunov remained quiet for a time. He needed to clear his mind. Dwelling on thoughts, wallowing in feelings--those were not only useless, but actively harmful in this particular conversation. With this disgusting creature searching for any potential vulnerability, there was nothing to be gained here and everything to lose.

So he delved further into his calm. His meditative clarity.

He’d not meditated in a very long time. He was most certainly out of practice. In fact, ever since mastering his psychic defenses, he’d begun to think that meditation was a pointless activity. No longer needed. Especially when he had so much other fun stuff that he could’ve been doing, instead.

But that was fine. It was like getting back on a horse. Old and familiar.

“It is no use trying to run from me,” said Germal. “We are trapped here, remember? There is nowhere to go.”

Morgunov ignored him. Calm and clear. Devoid of emotion.

Germal kept pushing. “You’re just not going to answer me at all, are you? Kehe. How cowardly.”

Just words. Empty words.

“Alright, I think I understand now. There can’t be many reasons why something would be a sore spot for you. And I’ve already caught enough of a whiff to piece things together. So rather than you answering my question, how about I do you a favor and answer it for you? Generous of me, no?”

No. Ignore the mind flayer.

“The reason you killed Dolf--or rather, the reason it haunts you so--is because it was the moment when you were forced to confront your true self.”

Bastard.

“The part of you that you hate. Your old, weak, scared, pathetic self. The self that you’ve tried, in vain, for centuries to overcome, then repress, then simply pretend it never existed. Dolf reminded you that all your lofty ideas about humanity, about the beauty of invention and innovation, about brilliance and technological progress--all those cherished thoughts are ultimately just bullshit when competing against your own fragile ego. Against the sudden realization that someone out there is actually smarter than you. Better than you.”

“I’m going to kill you, mind flayer. And then I’m going to find you in whatever realm your recursive self calls home, and I’m going to kill you there, too. Or put you in a cage, perhaps. I’ll have to make up my mind along the way. Regardless, there will be no more incarnations for you. Only the Void. And then I’ll find a way to take that from you, too.”

“Anyway, enough of this,” said Morgunov. “You’ve answered to my satisfaction. Take your turn, and then let’s get out of here.”

“Already?” said Germal. “This will only be my second question.”

“What, that’s not enough? How many more could you possibly have for me? Aren’t you Primordials supposed to be all-knowing?”

“If only that were so.”

“Geez. Y’know, you’re comin’ across as kinda pathetic, right now. In fact, you’re makin’ me feel like the term ‘god’ applies more to me than it does to you. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“I can only apologize.”

“If this is some subtle strategy to make me arrogant and careless, then it won’t work! My carelessness has already given you plenty of chances! Don’t tell me you need even more! Greedy! That’s what that is!”

“I know my second question for you.”

“Out with it, then.”

“Why did you kill Dolf Rachman?”

Morgunov stopped.

Germal just waited for him, however. The son of a bitch.

“...That’s completely out of nowhere,” said Morgunov, suspicious. “Why do you care about that?”

“Kehe. I will admit it: you do not make it an easy process, but yes, I have been looking through your memories. And that is one that stuck out to me. I cannot discern your feelings from that time. It seems they are quite tender to you. A sore spot, perhaps? Surprising, for a madman like you. It has made me curious to know more.”

Psychics. This was precisely why he’d grown to hate them in his youth. These days, his feelings toward them had waned a bit. He’d grown powerful enough that they’d ceased being a real concern. And perhaps he’d begun to think that, as long they knew their place, they might not be so bad, after all. Fun to play with, even.

But now he was being reminded. Of what they were really like. When they lacked fear. When they’d been truly threatening. He understood completely why his ancient predecessors had sided with the Vanguard against the Kingsparrows. He would do the same, if such a time ever came again.

“...Ask me something else,” said Morgunov.

“Oh? Well, now you are only making me even more interested. Can it really be such a sensitive subject for you? Surely not. For a battle-hardened emperor such as yourself? How could that be?”

“This tack won’t work, either, Liar.”

“What tack? I’m simply confused. Because from everything you’ve claimed thus far--everything you even seem to believe--you love to see brilliance in action. You love human ingenuity. It’s why you’re an inventor. Why you’ve been once since you were but a boy. And yet, with Mr. Rachman--”

“You’re wasting your time. And your question.”

“Well, that’s my decision to make, now isn’t it?”

Morgunov needed a moment to deconstruct that statement. But only a moment. “Oh. Right. Because I’m also an inventor. And we’re the worst by default, according to your twisted logic. Of course.”

“There is far more to it than merely that, and I think you know that.”

“Oh yeah? So you’re tellin’ me that I’m worse than Arnel the Terror? Really? Look, I know I’ve done some messed up things, okay? But that guy literally cooked people alive and ate them in front of their horrified family members.”

Germal paused. “...Okay, well, I never met Arnel. And I said that you’re the worst I’ve seen. Not the worst to ever exist.”

“Wow, what a cop out. And still definitely untrue! You must’ve met Hada, right? Oh, unless you are him, I suppose. In which case, dang. You’ve really got no room to be calling me names.”

“Hada does deserve admonishment, true. Which I have provided, on many occasions. In fact, it might be my single greatest pastime. But Hada is also a god, which affords him special consideration. You, however, deserve no such thing.”

“Oh, so that’s how it works. I’m not part of your privileged little club, so off with my head, eh?”

“In essence, yes. Ah, but now, perhaps you are thinking that you might like to join?”

Morgunov stopped on that notion for a bit. After all he’d just heard, there was no more repulsive idea to him than what Germal had just suggested. “Yeah, sure, man. Do I have to learn a secret handshake?”

“No. Unfortunately, there is no set path to godhood. No advice that can be granted. ‘Tis something that one must arrive at in solitude. Or become a vessel and agree to incarnation. Might you be interested in that?”

“Oh, you mean giving up my corporeal form and sense of self in order to transform into an entirely new being?”

“Indeed. If you are amenable to the idea, then I can arrange it. There are many of us who are awaiting new vessels.”

“Interesting! You can do it just like that, huh? Simple and easy?”

“Quite.”

“And you’re sure I’d make for a suitable vessel? I’m not too messed up or unworthy or anything?”

“Of course. You would do fine.”

“Well, alright then! Let’s make that happen, pal!”

“Truly? I thought you would be more--”

Morgunov waited. He would’ve smiled if he could've.

“...You’re lying,” said Germal. “You have no intention of incarnating with anyone. As soon as I free us, you will try to kill me.”

“Well, duh. That was always going to happen, Germy. You’re the one who decided to put your balls on the table and confront me. You can’t honestly expect that I’m gonna let you get outta this unscathed, can you? But I do find it funny that you almost didn’t realize it in time! You must be really eager to find vessels for all your little buddies! How quaint!”

“You are a bastard.”

“I don’t think that I do,” said Morgunov, though that wasn’t entirely true. “You’re tryin’ to tell me that there’s some grand, invisible force that’s been creating great geniuses throughout history? And that only one can exist at a time? Why would that be true? Seems pretty inefficient to me. If the goal is to create Order, then the more brilliant minds there are, the better. Limiting it all to just one, singular dude sounds stupid as hell.”

“I never said Order was smart, now did I?”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s the best you’ve got? You’re supposed to be the greatest liar in the world, aren’t you? Come up with something more convincing!”

“What could be more convincing than the simple truth?”

“Eheh, oh, please. The best liars are able use the truth as if it were a lie--and vice versa. Think I’m not aware of that? Gotta say, you’re really leavin’ me quite unimpressed with your abilities so far, fella. Fumblin’ the bag, as the youngins like to say!”

“Well, I did tell you from the beginning that you were overestimating me.”

“Aha! True enough!”

“But alright. I cannot claim to know what Order is thinking--or if it even thinks anything at all, for that matter--but I do feel that you are misconceiving something. A true Fury is able to take inspiration from their contemporaries, as well. Not just from those in the past. So your idea that more would be better is rather moot.”

“Hmm.”

“Additionally, would more actually be better? They do say that too many cooks spoil the broth, no? Perhaps Order believes something similar.”

Dang it, that was actually a good point.

Morgunov still had more to follow up on, though. “Okay, so the Furies are, what, the greatest minds of their eras? And yet you also told me that I’m not one of ‘em? How can I not qualify, huh? After all I’ve done! That hardly seems fair!”

“‘Tis not a matter of intellect alone.” A beat passed. “Though I’m sure you would be found wanting there, as well.”

“Eheh, ouch! So what else factors in, then, hmm?”

“Personality, of course. Temperament. Desires of the heart and soul.”

“You sayin’ I’m not pure of heart?”

“Not at all. Your heart is perhaps the purest black I’ve ever seen.”

“Really? Ever? You’ve known some real mean buggers from across all the Ages, haven’t you? And yet you honestly think I’m the worst?”

“Yes. I do.”

“How did you get your hands on the Vessel, anyway?” said Germal. “It should have been guarded by a cluster of feldeaths.”

“Oh, you knew that, huh?” And a thought struck him. “Wait a minute! Don’t tell me! You went and tried to grab it yourself, didn’t you?! Only to find it missing after putting yourself in so much danger! Ahaha! That’s what happened, isn’t it?!”

Germal said no response, which prompted Morgunov to just keep laughing.

“That’s excellent!” said the Mad Demon. “Wish I’d been there to see you scurrying about like a scared mouse!”

“Tell me how you snuck it out,” said Germal.

“Curious, eh? Alright, fine. I lured a clew of worms over to distract the big fellas for me while I made off with the spoils. Which involved more than just the Vessel, by the way. In fact, I’d nearly forgotten about that old thing until you brought it up.”

“Ah...”

“So there. Satisfied yet?”

“I suppose so.”

“Good! Then we can be done with this whole thing and get back to the real world!”

“You have no further questions for me?” said Germal.

Morgunov paused. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to get back to ripping this guy in half as soon as possible, but he supposed he shouldn’t waste this opportunity while he had it. Plus, something else was occurring to him. “If you’re saying that, then you must have additional things to ask, mm?”

“Perhaps so. You are a font of knowledge, Demon. I should like to make use of you while I still can.”

“Ooh. A threat and flattery. What a charming devil you are, Germy. In that case, I’ll indulge you a bit longer. Tell me. What are the Furies, exactly? How do you define them?”

“I’m surprised you do not already know that.”

“Mayhaps I do. But I still want to know what your twisted and stupid perspective is.”

“Kehe. The Furies, dear Demon, are the great agents of Order. They are a troublesome collective that span the breadth of history, often linked together unwittingly. They are one--and also many.”

“Hmm. One and many, huh?”

“The collective supports the one. The emergent head of a given era. Only one exists at a time. It becomes the focal point to which flows all the troublesome toils of the others. And when the head is slain, another inevitably emerges. A hydra, of sorts. I am certain that you know exactly what I speak of. And that I am not lying, yes?”

“You conflate the two when you should not,” said Germal. “Chaos may be an aspect of the Void, but that does not mean they have the same desires. Does your stomach always want what you do?”

“I mean, usually. I’ve never been big on dieting.”

“Even so, that is the essence of it. The Void believes that it knows best. It often tries, foolishly, to ignore its many competing instincts.”

“Interesting. So what does that make you, then? A stomach virus?”

Germal laughed outright. “From your perspective, perhaps so! But you’ll have to forgive me if I do not measure my self-worth by the judgments of a gleeful, mass murdering psychopath.”

“Mmhmm. You say that, but if you’re really a Primordial, then the odds are quite good that you’ve dabbled in a bit of mass murder and/or psychopathy yourself.”

“A fair statement. Incorrect, but fair.”

“Oh? Which Primordial do you claim to be, then?”

“Ah-ah. It is still my turn. And you have yet to answer my question. The Vessel. Where is it located?”

“Fine, fine. I have it, actually. Locked up tight in one of my warehouses.”

“Which warehouse?”

“Lemme go, and I’ll take you there!”

“How kind of you to offer. But I shall make do with just the location, if you please.”

“Hmph. It’s in Luugh. Outside a little town called Ragayo. That specific enough for you?”

“No. What is the exact address?”

Tch. “Doesn’t have one. No road nearby. Won’t show up on a map, either.”

“Landmarks?”

“It’s surrounded by trees. Squirreled away, out of sight. I like my hidden things to remain hidden, y’know?”

“Security?”

“None at all.”

“You’re lying. I can tell. How much security is there?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing a tough guy like you can’t handle.”

“Specifics, Demon. Answering to my satisfaction was your rule, remember?”

“Ugh, so dull! Can’t you just appreciate a good surprise, every now and then?”

“No.”

“Alright, alright. Lemme think. Umm. There were... twelve automatic turrets along the perimeter. Programmed to stun, not kill. Thirty-seven mines dotted the outer walls. Oh, and a small platoon of Roberts.”

“Roberts?”

“My tin soldiers. That’s what I call ‘em.”

“...How small is this platoon, precisely?”

“Oh, I, mm... sixty-eight.”

“Sixty-eight of those monstrosities?”

Morgunov could not help feeling immensely pleased by the bastard’s worried tone. “You and your boys made short work of them back at my workshop. And without me there to feed them orders, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble.” Assuming Germal actually brought all his buddies along to help, which seemed unlikely.

Eheh.

“The Vessel of Trenoyis,” said Germal. “Where is it?”

“Trenoyis,” echoed Morguonv. “Hmm. Have you checked Trenoy? I hear they named that place after him.”

“Cute. You know this does not work if you refuse to answer, yes? You must answer to my satisfaction. You know the Vessel’s whereabouts, don’t you?”

“Do I? Why don’t you just read my mind and see for yourself?”

“You know why.”

“Oh, come now. Are you tellin’ me that my measly little psychic defenses are able to thwart the efforts of a big, bad Primordial like yourself? Surely not.”

“Measly, are they? You’ve created an entire labyrinth full of coma-inducing booby traps.”

“What can I say? I don’t like people rooting around in there without my permission.”

“What if I promise to be gentle?”

“Oh, sure, but you have to let me run some experiments on you, first. I promise that I’ll be equally gentle.”

“Kehe. Indeed. We’ve arrived at yet another impasse, it would seem.”

“Shocker, eh? And hey, let’s not pretend like you psychics don’t deserve a bit of backlash for all the stuff you’ve gotten up to over the years. Rifling through other people’s memories--is there any greater invasion of privacy than that? I think not. And that’s just one of the messed up things you’ve been doing!”

“The pot is truly screaming at the kettle, now.”

“Eheh. I never said I don’t have some backlash coming, too.”

“Oh? Are you perhaps acknowledging that this ambush is deserved?”

“In a general sense? Yeah, maybe. But I don’t recall ever wronging you specifically.”

“No? You have been hunting me for decades.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that? I just wanted to have a nice chat. You’re the one who made it weird.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Now answer my question. Where is the Vessel?”

“What’s your interest in it?”

“Can you not guess, based on everything else I’ve already told you?”

“Maybe I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Are you a horse god, Germy? I bet you are, aren’t you? I feel like that’d suit you.”

“The Vessel shall help me free Trenoyis.”

“You don’t say? Are you sure you want to do that? What would the Void think?”

A brief silence arrived. “Kehehe. Not much of anything, I suspect. Your faith in that being is misplaced, I’m afraid.”

Hmm. Morgunov wanted to scratch his chin. “So despite being of Chaos, you’re going against the Void’s will? Hmm. Now that just don’t seem right.”

Well.

On second thought, he knew exactly how someone could believe that. He was suddenly reminded of his youth--of that special breed of proud, malicious ignorance that seemed to possess everyone around him in those days.

‘Anti-knowledge,’ he’d called it. Not just the desire to remain ignorant. No. It went a step further and sought to destroy the knowledge of others, too. To humiliate them for even having the gall to pursue said knowledge in the first place.

There was nothing in this universe that Morgunov hated more than that.

And his confusion, his disbelief--they melted gradually away.

Replaced in their entirety with rage. The kind he hadn’t felt in countless years. The kind that threatened to overtake every cogent thought in his mind.

It was all he could do to contain himself. If the two of them were not already trapped, he would have killed Germal instantly. No games. No toying with his food. No experimenting with some untested invention. No saving his real trump cards for later. Not even any capturing for future study.

This creature in here with him--whatever it was--it needed to die.

“...You’ve fallen quiet,” said Germal.

Morgunov said nothing.

“Kehe. It seems I’ve accomplished the impossible.”

Morgunov knew he needed to steady himself. He’d allowed his emotions to rise too much.

He knew that.

And yet he didn’t entirely care. The thought occurred to him that, yes, if Germal could really read minds, then the bastard could be reading this, right now. That he--no, it--could’ve even known ahead of time exactly what to say in order to provoke this very reaction.

That it could’ve all been a lie, said for no other reason than to get under his skin.

If so, then Morgunov could admit: it had worked. And this bastard was going to regret it with every fiber of its being.

But for some reason, Morgunov felt like that wasn’t the case, either. That really was how Germal viewed the world, wasn’t it? Perhaps that was even how all the Primordials viewed it.

Which would certainly explain why the Void decided to rip them from this plane of existence.

Because they deserved it. And worse.

“Is it my turn, now?” said Germal. “Have I answered to your satisfaction?”

Still, Morgunov almost remained silent. But after a moment, he found enough poise to say, “Yes. Go ahead.”

“There is no morality in this world, save that which we above decide,” said Germal. “And you, cedo, are no ally of Chaos. You are, in fact, the furthest thing from it.”

Morgunov paused. Hmm. There was a lot to unpack there. “What makes you say that? I’ve been spreading chaos all over the world my whole dang life! Go on, ask anyone!”

“Ah, but now it is you who is using misleading language. You spread ‘chaos,’ yes. But not ‘Chaos.’ In fact, for all your knowledge and experience, I suspect you hardly know what true Chaos is.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy with the insults there. You’re not seriously trying to tell me that I’ve secretly, unwittingly been an agent of Order this entire time. Because frankly, that has to be the silliest darn thing I’ve ever done heard!”

“You truly do not understand? How short-sighted. Yes, you may not be of the Furies, but you incite them to move. You spur them on. Inspire them. And frequently, you do much more than that, don’t you? You often allow them to live when you could easily end them. You even feel remorse on the rare occasions when you put one down. And of course, some, you teach directly as your students. Help them refine and grow themselves.”

Morgunov had a lot to say, but he remained silent, because it seemed like this guy wasn’t done yet, and he wanted to hear the rest.

“The mere act of inventing--don’t you see? That, too, is making Order from Chaos. Taking the natural, beautiful Chaos of the world and twisting it into inert knots. That is the ultimate goal of all your efforts, whether you realize it or not. Whatever amount of Chaos you might bring--it is incidental and fleeting. Soon chased away by Order. You claim to be a gardener, as we are, yet you do nothing but plant and grow weeds.”

Morgunov could stay quiet no longer. “Excuse me? Weeds? You think inventors, the brilliant and beautiful minds of the world, are weeds? The people who spend their lives advancing technology, pushing the boundaries of human knowledge and potential, usually at great personal risk to themselves--those are the ugly things you want to uproot?”

“Ah. Perhaps you do understand.”

And for the first time in many, many years, Morgunov was struck dumb. With utter incredulity.

How could anyone believe something so obviously moronic?

Germal chortled again. “Ah, but in that case, it should honestly be I who is thanking you. Without your intervention at that time, I am not sure that I could have returned to this realm.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re welcome, then. But you sure have a funny way of demonstrating your appreciation! Tryin’ to kill me ‘n all!”

“Kehe. Don’t act like you were not already planning to come after me again.”

“That’s hardly fair! Just because I’m planning something doesn’t mean I’ll follow through with it! Do you know how many things I have left on my to-do list?”

“A real shame, that. Anyway, have I answered to your satisfaction? I wish to take my turn, now.”

“Hmm! Almost! Just one little thing I want clarification on!”

“Yes?”

“If you’re all beings of Chaos, then what’s your beef with me, huh? I’m a reasonable fellow. In fact, I would’ve expected us to be on the same side! I happen to love Chaos! Everyone knows us Abolishers are big fans of the Void, of which Chaos is merely one aspect!”

“Calling yourself reasonable has to be a bigger lie than anything I have ever uttered.”

“Now you’re just being hurtful. Sure, my enthusiasm can get away from me, on occasion. But I genuinely think that you and I could have arrived at some quite amicable terms, many years ago, if you’d just tried to reach out. Explained your position a bit. Heck, maybe we still could! Wouldn’t that be neat?!”

“You would have almost certainly tried to capture me.”

“Well, yeah, of course I would have! But I’m tellin’ you: we would have eventually arrived at a place of friendship!”

Germal fell briefly quiet again. “Keheheh...”

“Somethin’ funny?”

“You do bring something out of me, Demon. I’ll grant you that.”

“Oh? Happy to hear it!”

“Unfortunately, that was not a compliment.”

“Aww.”

“I am tempted to play your game here. To indulge your offer of friendship, even. And continue this exchange elsewhere. But no. You are too dangerous to leave alive.”

“Mm. Heard that before. Real shame, coming from you. Was hoping you’d surprise me. Spice things up, somehow. But I guess in the end, you’re just another of those morality-obsessed do-gooders, eh? Despite so much evidence to the contrary! Talk about a letdown!”

“A morality-obsessed do-gooder? Now that is an interesting interpretation. Kehe. I fear you are still quite confused, my ‘demonic’ friend.”

“Am I? How so?”

“You are setting quite the precedent here,” said Germal. “I will be quite demanding with my question, now.”

“Ha! You really don’t know me very well at all, do you?! How delightfully surprising! Unlike you, Germy, I do not obsess over keeping all my knowledge to myself. In fact, giving lectures about the secrets of the world is something I quite enjoy!”

“You certainly do love to listen to yourself talk.”

“I won’t deny it! If only there were more who were bold enough to listen! Now tell me. How do you define yourself?”

Germal took a minute to answer. “...Truthfully, Demon? I define myself as one who would return this world to order. The way it was, long ago.”

“Order, you say? Interesting! Now do you mean ‘order?’ Or do you mean ‘Order?’”

“I am confused. What is the distinction you are referring to?”

A lie, for certain. Perhaps the greatest of all the lies the Liar had yet told.

Which was no surprise, of course, but this time was special. This time, Morgunov found it intensely annoying. “Confused, you say? Why should you be confused? Ah! Perhaps because you do not wish to acknowledge your great nemesis, hmm? To hear it named truly?”

Germal fell quiet at that.

Morgunov decided to let the silence linger for a bit. In truth, he’d been holding a few things back this whole time. A few memories. Locked away for safekeeping, just in case Germal started getting uppity with his mind reading again.

But those memories were now beginning to unlock themselves. As per their locking conditions, no doubt. A timed trigger? Hmm, unlikely, considering time seemed to have largely stopped in this strange space.

Ah. An emotional trigger, then. Related to his long-held ruminations on Order and Chaos.

Yes.

“You Primordials are beings of Chaos, are you not? Your great enemy, therefore, must be Order. So it makes no sense that you would seek to ‘put the world to Order.’ Unless, of course, you were using deliberately misleading language, and your idea of ‘order’ means something totally different, eh? Perhaps even the exact opposite thing! Eheh! But I’m sure a stand-up Gentleman like you would never do something like that!”

“...You remember more of Bellvine than you have let on.”

“Mm! Perhaps I do! But y’know, I feel talking to you is also helping me to remember even more things, too! So thanks for that. Maybe you’re not such a bad guy, after all.”

“Ah, lemme think about that! Lots of things come to mind! And you’re quite likely to not answer anything I ask later, so I gotta pick something really good! Hmm! What’s the best question to ask first?!”

“I already have mine picked out.”

“Oh, well, look at you, Mr. Prepared. Got somethin’ you’ve been wanting to ask me for a long time, eh?”

“Indeed.”

“Interesting. And you didn’t think to simply ask? Y’know, before trying to kill me?”

“The thought did cross my mind. But I discarded it.”

“How cruel. You should indulge your curiosity more. It’s a very human quality, Germy. And who knows? I might have pleasantly surprised you.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hmph. My question for you, then, is thus. What are you, really? You’re not a servant. I know that much. So tell me the truth of your existence, Liar of Lyste.”

“I’ve never cared for that name.”

“Gentleman of Palei, then.”

Germal took a long pause before answering. “I am that which you have been seeking, Demon.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“A Primordial.”

Morgunov made no response. He just let that answer linger, thinking on it. Could that be true? This was coming from the Liar, after all. And that had been quite easily said.

Ah, but perhaps that was the trick here. Telling the truth so quickly would actually make it seem like a lie, wouldn’t it? Which would let Germal pass over it and move on to a more favorable fiction.

And if it were true, it would explain a few things. Morgunov had already come to the conclusion that the Liar had orchestrated this whole thing, which meant that the timing with Rasalased and his supposed sister had not been coincidental. It would make sense that a real Primordial would’ve had access to those two beforehand. Coordinated with them. To ambush him.

Yes.

“I don’t believe you,” Morgunov decided to say.

“How surprising. But I have answered your question. Now it is my turn.”

“I’m afraid not. We can’t move on until the question has been answered to the asker’s satisfaction. And I am far from satisfied. If what you said is true, then provide details. The term ‘Primordial’ has existed for eons. If you really are one of them, then tell me what that means to you. How do you define yourself?”

“My, my. There are any number of ways that I could answer that. If I were to ask you the same thing, to define yourself, could you do so?”

“You bet your ass I could. And if you want, I’d be more than happy to. When it’s your turn.”

“Instead of promises which are sure to be broken, perhaps you could provide me with information. Here and now.”

“Interesting!” said Morgunov. “I’m open to that! Only problem is that all I’d be getting in exchange would be a promise from you to release me. And as you said, promises are sure to be broken.”

“If I do not deliver on said promise, then we will both remain stuck here.”

“Exactly. Which further means that you could continue pumping me for information for as long as you please. So if you want my knowledge, then you’ll have to give me some of yours in return.”

“You surprise me. I thought you would surely believe that I could not possibly tell you anything that you do not already know.”

“Why? Because of the so-called ‘emperor’s hubris?’ Puh-lease! I’m the humblest emperor to ever walk the planet!” He paused. “Plus, I’m sure you’re hiding all sorts of juicy secrets in that freaky little horn of yours.”

“It is not freaky.”

“It’s pretty freaky.”

“Hmph.”

“Oh, and since you’re the one holdin’ the key here, you’ve got a bit more negotiating power than I do. So that means I’m gonna need you to go first with the answering of questions. As a show of good faith, you understand.”

“I do not like the sound of that. If I have more negotiating power, as you claim, then surely it is you who should be going first, not me.”

“No, but see, if I go first, then you can just refuse to answer my question and ask another one of yours, instead. And you can just keep doing that endlessly.”

“You say that as if you would be incapable of refusing, yourself.”

“Of course I could refuse! But you could end the conversation whenever you want by just releasing us! And then what, huh? I’d be left alone, answerless, with my dick in my hand. And I would find that quite upsetting.”

“Hmm. I suppose you have a point.”

“‘Course I do!”

“But please keep your penis in your pants.”

“It was a metaphor. The youngins say that all the time. I can’t even feel my pants, right now.”

“I do not wish to see your metaphorical penis, either.”

“My--? Huh... Why do I feel so insulted, right now?”

“If I am to go first, then so be it. What is your question for me?”

“And I shall never let it be said that you lack conviction,” said Morgunov. “This whole thing was your doing, wasn’t it? This plot to ambush me?”

“Well, if you are to blame anyone, it might as well be me.”

“Ha! So casual! As if you did not plan it meticulously!”

“You are not as unpredictable as you think, Nibas. It was not that hard.”

“Mm! How irksome. You really know how to get under a guy’s skin, don’tcha?”

“I do my level best.”

A funny thought struck Morgunov, and he decided to run with it. “But if that’s really true, then you shouldn’t mind proving it, eh?”

“Proving what?”

“That it wasn’t that hard for you to ambush me! Because I’m so predictable, right? So prove it!”

A beat passed. “Heh. How would you like to me to do that?”

“Well, obviously, you should let me escape and then just ambush me a second time!”

Germal chuckled.

“C’mon!” said Morgunov, also laughing. “That’d prove your point more thoroughly than anything else! You know I’m right!”

“A tempting proposition.”

“Hoho! Perhaps you’ve got some guts, after all! Not just a bag full of underhanded hijinks!”

“Tempting, I said. But no. I think not.”

“Boo! What a chicken! A spoil sport! And, dare I say, an all-around fib-teller! You must not have found me predictable in the slightest! In which case, I believe this now counts as my victory. Too bad for you, Germy.”

“Truly, I am crushed.”

“Well, either way, it seems we’ll have to arrive at some sort of compromise here, eventually. I’m not letting you go unless you let me go, first. And since we’ve been gabbin’ for a good little while now and no one’s come a-knockin’, I’d say we’re well and truly stuck here.”

“Perhaps so.”

“Good, I’m glad you agree! So let’s talk brass tacks, then! What’s it gonna take for you to let me outta here, hmm?”

“Oh, well, what are you offering?”

“How about a big, friendly hug once we’re free?”

“Ah. Not a death sentence at all, I’m sure.”

“Of course not! Friendly, I said! How could killing you be considered friendly?”

“I’m sure you could think of a way to spin that.”

“Alright, alright. How about if I promise not to immediately rip your head off, then?”

“How generous.”

“Right? I mean, we both know you would deserve it.”

“I think I’ll have to pass on that one, as well.”

“Really breakin’ my balls here, man. Why don’t you try suggesting something, then?”

“In that case,” said Germal, “perhaps you could share what you’ve learned of me. At times, I feel as though even I do not know what I am doing or why.”

“Oho! How I wish for that to be true!” said Morgunov. “Very relatable, that notion! But of course it would be, wouldn’t it?! You’ve learned a thing or two about me, as well, I’m sure! Tryin’ to soften me up with some familiarity, huh?!”

“Interpret things however you please, but I shall not deny that I have been studying you. The Problem of the Furies is an ever cycling one, but you, ledo, only ever make it worse. Ignoring you would have been foolish beyond measure.”

Morgunov’s eyes might have bulged if he could have felt them. “The Problem of the Furies, you say? Well, now... that’s quite the juicy morsel you’ve just dropped at my feet! Hmm! I’m finally tempted to believe something you’ve said! Well done, Germy!”

“Either you die this day, or I do. There is no point in lying.”

“Said the Liar! Oh, and please, don’t say that! If I have things my way, you won’t be dying for a very, very long time!”

“All the more reason to bring your reign of terror to an end, then.”

“Ooh, is that what this has all been about?! Germy! Don’t tell me! Are you one of those secret, noble heroes of the ancient world?! Fighting wickedness from the shadows?!”

“Anyone who goes against you can be considered a hero.”

“Eheh. How mean. I can be heroic when I want to, you know. As a matter of fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that taking care of you, right here, right now, might just be one of the most heroic things I could ever do.”

“You’ve really built me up quite a bit in your mind, haven’t you?”

“It’s nothin’ you haven’t earned, dear boy! Or, cedo, as you would say? Yes!”

“Indeed. Ah, but you still have not told me what you know of my words. Please, go on and enlighten me.”

“I do love an attentive listener. Alright, then! Those words you use. They’re psychic markers, aren’t they? Meaningful to you in ways that are imperceptible to others. And I bet they make it easier to pry into the mind, don’t they? Especially when you want to leave a lasting impression on someone, hmm? What better method than to take on a memorable way of speaking? You do love mucking about with memories, don’t you?”

For the first time that Morgunov had heard, the Liar of Lyste returned a laugh.

“I shall never let it be said that you lack imagination, Demon.”

“A stalemate does not favor you here,” said Germal.

“Oh? And how would you know that? I’m sure you have no perception of time, either. For all you know, this could last a good long while for us in here before anyone out there is able to interfere. Or even forever! Eheh! Now wouldn’t that be something?! Trapped together for eternity!”

“You would never abide such an arrangement.”

“Nor would you, I imagine!”

The Liar made no response.

Morgunov pondered the situation a bit more on his own, trying to assess himself. His thoughts may have been greatly diminished in this space, but he still felt like he had access to the full breadth of his memories. And his personality still felt entirely intact, for what that was worth.

Yes. It was really just his body that was missing. Interesting.

A root cause attack should have, theoretically, been suppressing every new thought, even these ones. He supposed it was because he’d pulled Germal in with him that it wasn’t working properly. Either that, or that ancient text had been full of shit. What had it been called again?

Of Minds and Manipulation, by Harundel the Greater.

Ah, yes. One of those silly Harundels. Perhaps that made sense.

“Still reading my mind, Liar?”

“I am flattered that you continue to overestimate my abilities,” said Germal.

“Mmhmm, mmhmm. That’s right. Never stop trying to downplay yourself. Always seek to make your enemies underestimate you. Eheh. Did I teach you that? Surely not. Doesn’t sound like me. So where’d you learn it from, hmm? You can tell me. Who was your mentor?”

“Oh, I’ve had many.”

“Yeah? Who was the most impactful, then?”

“I couldn’t possibly choose just one.”

“Mm,” hummed Morgunov. “Or perhaps you’ve had none at all? That’s another way of thinking about it, isn’t it? If you have enough teachers, then you cease taking after any of them, eh? You achieve that all-important originality, eh?”

“You flatter me again, ledo.”

“Ooh, the honorific! Who’s flattering whom now?!” Morgunov broke for a chortle. “Y’know, I’ve learned a thing or two about some of those curious words you use. Words I’ve never heard anyone else use.”

“Is that right?”

“Sure is. What, did you think I haven’t been observing you over the years? You may be a sneaky boy, but you’re far from the first to hide from me. And honestly, you’re not even that good at it. Gotten too comfortable behind that big pupper of yours, I’d wager.”

~~“Hello, Demonnnn.”~~

The words were unlike anything he had ever heard or felt. Low and distorted, they stretched through his mind, dragging it along with with them, interfering with every new thought that struggled to arise.

A root cause attack.

Even just realizing the danger was difficult. He’d never experienced this before, but he’d read of it, long ago.

One of the most powerful psychic techniques ever invented--and by the most powerful psychics to have ever existed, no less. The ancient Kingsparrows.

It paralyzed their prey by preventing any and all thoughts from being formulated in the mind. Reserved for particularly resilient minds that the psychic could not simply snap with brute force. And once it was activated, there was no escaping it, except by the will of the psychic who used it.

Morgunov, therefore, found himself abruptly trapped in a prison of his own mind.

And yet, when he’d read the claims in that ancient text about just how strong a root cause attack was supposed to be, he’d found himself quite doubtful, especially regarding that last part.

So now, he was about to put it to the test.

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