The Zombie Knight

Diego Redwater didn’t think he’d ever felt this bad for enemy combatants before. This battle had been a foregone conclusion for quite a while now. Over the past few weeks, every single one of the Vantalayan Military Police’s assaults had been rebuffed, and now, things were going ever worse for them. Each new assault was not only failing but also turning into a counterattack by the Ridgemark Private Military Police, usually extending quite deep into the enemy line and ripping them to shreds.

It was a wonder they hadn’t given up already. A wonder, but also sadly understandable.

The problem seemed to be that the VMP kept getting reinforcements from the larger VAF, the Vantalayan Armed Forces, as well as from Abolish. And those reinforcements were always substantial to prolong the fighting but never enough to actually make a difference. Every new platoon of soldiers seemed to make the VMP think that, surely this time, they could turn the tide. That they still had hope of taking over Ridgemark.

That full retreat wasn’t inevitable.

But all Rainlords knew it. With as much power as they had on their side now, victory for the enemy was practically impossible.

To outsiders, perhaps that would’ve sounded cocky. Certainly, the Rainlords had suffered their share of defeats not so long ago, but those had occurred while they were divided--and with almost no allies, to boot.

Here and now, the VMP was facing the almost fully united Rainlord forces, as well as the quite shockingly powerful RPMP. Not to mention, Leo the Bull Leech.

And with Vanderberk now out of the picture, morale on this side of the battlefield was at an all-time high. More than once, Diego had heard loose talk that even if one of the emperors suddenly showed up to support the enemy, victory was still all but assured.

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but... truthfully, Diego felt it might actually be true, too.

Thankfully, Father was not in his quarters in the heart of the Obsidian Shell. It would have been momentarily tedious to breach the fortress’ walls and reach him there with Germal in tow, and time was quite precious, right now.

Instead, he found Father at the center of a large gathering. Soldiers sat in large groups, feasting at long, hulking tables filled with tall, blazing braziers and ample food and drink. The raucous laughter in the air began to die out as many familiar faces noticed his presence.

If he hadn’t known Father as well as he did, Gohvis-Aeha might have thought they were celebrating some great victory, but this was actually quite a regular sight. Father loved his banquets. He was always finding excuses to treat himself and his men to lavish, hearty meals whenever possible. Claimed it was good for both morale and recruitment--which was probably true.

The Prime found it to be a rather obnoxious and wasteful habit, but Father always countered by arguing what was the point in conquering the world if one didn’t indulge in the excesses that said world could provide?

When Gohvis-Aeha finally laid eyes on Father, the man was already looking back at him and standing up from a chair that was so ornate and golden that it might as well have been a throne.

Then the ambient laughter truly died out as all eyes turned to Father, who sighed.

“What mess have you brought me?” said the old emperor.

First things first. He had to shift blame. “Morgunov picked a fight with a feldeath.”

Fortunately, Father had no time to get mad at him, which he must have realized, because he immediately shouted to his men. “Battle stations! Defend the camp!”

And everyone began scrambling. Father’s surrounding officers scattered to go organize and lead their individual sects.

Gohvis-Aeha moved out of the way as he sensed Morgunov try to blitz him from behind. He circled around behind Father, hoping that the Mad Demon would at least be distracted for a few more moments by a desire to exchange words with his fellow emperor.

A hope which proved true.

“Dozy! It’s been too long! How are you, ya old fossil?!”

“Worse for seeing your face.”

“Aww! Don’t be like that! Your boy here and I brought you a present! Ever heard of Kallmakk the Nightspinner?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Wait, really? That kinda ruins the surprise, man. Couldn’t you have at least pretended to--”

A dark beam ripped through the encampment, leaving behind a string of black-and-purple explosions that sent soldiers and debris into the air.

These were not things that he had the luxury of dwelling on, right now. He had to put them out of his mind. To stay focused on the task at hand.

Germal wasn’t making it any easier, though. ‘I sensed that, Master. You saved that man just now, didn’t you? Even as you protest, you continue to prove my point. You care for this world and its inhabitants deeply.’

What an irritating conversation. He wished one of those Roberts would get close enough to provide a meaningful distraction again.

Germal just kept going. ‘I’ve always been able to sense your compassion, Master. You try to keep it buried. I know not why. But it has been there for as long as I have known you. In fact, I believe it is the very reason why you granted me the honor of getting to know you in the first place. And yet... here and now... I sense it more strongly in you than ever before. You are not trying nearly as hard to hide it, anymore. How curious...’

Gohvis-Aeha said nothing. While it was true that the Prime had created this powerful psychic cloning technique by studying Germal’s multiple personality disorder, it had also never really been clear how much Germal himself had been able to discern about what the Prime had been doing. And naturally, the Prime had never bothered to explain this technique to anyone.

‘Master, have you managed to evolve your projections still further?’

Well, he definitely wasn’t going to answer that. The Prime would be furious.

Germal kept nattering as the chase drew out, and Gohvis-Aeha continued to ignore him. Even as the landscape began to the change and the Giants of Jaskadan, as the trees were commonly known, came into view, Germal still did not let up. Only the subject matter shifted, as the Liar started questioning where they were going and why.

Thankfully, it didn’t take much longer after that in order to finally reach Father’s encampment. The massive swaths of deforested land made it rather obvious that they were quite close.

Now it was just a matter of getting to Father and warning him before Kallmakk began running amok through his mobile fortresses. The man was not going to be pleased about that, but there was no helping it.

Ah. There. He sensed Father’s location and went straight for it like a lightning bolt, zigzagging through various troops on standby and probably knocking a few of them up into the air by accident as he passed, thanks to the wind tunnel being left in his wake.

Oh well. They were servants. They’d be fine.

Which was part of the reason why he was hoping now that Father might be able to broker a peace with Morgunov for the Liar’s life.

But it was always impossible to tell what Father was truly thinking. Perhaps he merely thought them useful and wanted them to think that he had a soft spot for them. In fact, that was most likely the case.

Here and now, however, during this tentative downtime in the battle, Gohvis-Aeha was thinking that there was little point in trying to argue with Germal about any of this. Boy, did he want to, though.

No, he should focus on gathering as much information for the Prime as he could for when they eventually reconvened. The Prime could be the one to pass judgment on Germal. Or Father, perhaps.

Ah.

Iceheart seemed to be getting antsy. No doubt, being closest to the raging feldeath in this chase made for a rather uncomfortable position. Gohvis-Aeha almost felt sympathy for the man, especially because the marshal still had subordinates that he was trying to keep safe.

With his predictive atmospheric senses, Gohvis-Aeha could all but see the unfolding mayhem back there. A whirlwind of ice, tossing Vanguardians haphazardly out of Kallmakk’s path--including Iceheart himself, who still got clipped by a dark beam and lost a leg, only to replace it with an icy one a moment later.

Hmph.

Foolish Vanguardians. Throwing their lives away. Too young for this fight, most of them. He couldn’t even recall any of their names. Maybe he could’ve, if he accessed the network, but that was still too dangerous to attempt. He needed every ounce of situational awareness, right now.

One of them caught a pitch black tendril across the torso and went flying. Unfortunate timing. Iceheart was too busy avoiding another three beams at once. That one who got sent flying was doomed. He could sense another tendril materializing from Kallmakk’s back. It was almost certainly going to morph into a mouth and devour that poor bastard before he even touched the ground again.

Gohvis-Aeha’s right eye shimmered, then winked.

The black tendril that he knew would appear did so, but it exploded apart in midair before it could reach the hapless Vanguardian. Instead of getting eaten, the battered man hit the ground rolling and quickly fell behind in the chase, disappearing from Gohvis-Aeha’s sight.

Perhaps he was the foolish one. Why had he done that? The Prime wouldn’t have bothered. The Vanguardians were idiots for thinking they could rely on him at all. They deserved to reap the consequences of their idiocy, didn’t they?

Ugh.

‘What difference should that make?’ said Germal. ‘If anything, that should worry you even more, because it’s a testament to just how persistent he is.’

He supposed the Liar had a point. Hmm. What would the Prime say here?

Egh, what difference did it make? The mission was clear enough. There was no utility in debate. Perhaps he should say as much. And remind Germal how much of a nuisance he was.

But no. Gohvis-Aeha decided to remain silent. Heh. Yeah. That was probably what the Prime would’ve done, anyway. Ignore useless conversations.

Germal kept pushing, however. ‘Please, Master. You must see the danger. He will come to view us as useful materials for his Omnivore Drive--and other experiments, I am sure. Our ability to manifest new powers is unlike any of the others. And if that project succeeds, then those machines will become an existential threat to not just us but to all mankind.’

‘Aha.’ He could not stay quiet at that. ‘So it is a matter of protecting mankind now, is it? How terribly noble of you.’

‘I know you care for them, Master. Do not pretend otherwise. That may have its uses when talking to your contemporaries, especially within Abolish, but there is no need for that with me. That should be obvious by now, no?’

Hmph. Obvious. When it came to Germal, nothing was ever obvious.

But the man was no doubt referring to the founding of the Freeman Fellowship. Germal had done that at great personal cost to his reputation among his peers--to the point, even, that he had begun attempting to hide his own involvement in order to prevent his credibility from continuing to deteriorate.

But there was a game there. Gohvis-Aeha had no doubt of that. It was clear enough that Germal had been planning Morgunov’s assassination for a very long time now. And while the Fellowship may not have played an obvious role in this attempt here, there were any number of ways that Germal might have been using it behind the scenes--or for some other obnoxious purpose, perhaps.

After all, if Morgunov was deemed an existential threat to humanity, then surely Father should also be considered one, no?

Logically, that followed.

But then again, Father and the Fellowship had a curious relationship. On more than one occasion, the Prime had seen him showing... what seemed to be affection toward them. And Germal, too.

Gohvis-Aeha took the opportunity to reassess the state of the chase while he waited for Germal to regain his composure.

One of Morgunov’s Roberts was getting closer, he noticed. The Vanguardians were keeping up fairly well, and Kallmakk, all the way at the rear, seemed to have calmed, somewhat, if only to focus on the chase, but there was definitely something brewing back there, too. He could sense a worrying buildup of ardor. If he didn’t pay attention, that could turn into a very big problem.

Bah. He was going to be very annoyed if Kallmakk ended up killing Morgunov in the middle of this chase, while he was more focused on protecting Germal. Surely, the Mad Demon would not be that sloppy.

Egh...

‘Master,’ came Germal’s voice. ‘What did Jonah say to you?’

‘Doesn’t matter. Answer my question. Why do you think Morgunov is a threat to mutants? He has never expressed any desire to harm us. Only study us. And even that has been rather fleeting, compared to his other interests.’

‘That is merely the way his mind works, Master. You know this as well as I. His interest in a given subject ebbs and flows. Make no mistake. He WILL come back around to us. And when he does, it will not be for some relaxed academic exchange with you. He will seek to enthrall as many of our kind as possible for his experiments. To make our power his own. And merge it with his abominable machines.’

He might’ve argued the point, but one of those same abominable machines was now getting even closer to his position.

Too close.

He sent a quick telekinetic wave in its direction, just trying to knock it off course and slow it down.

But it dodged his attack and continued to inch closer.

Annoying.

He decided to pick up the pace, instead. Just a bit.

Germal kept on talking in the meantime. ‘I’ve read his mind, Master. It was difficult, but I was able to discern some of his plans. One of them is to complete work on something called an Omnivore Drive, which will allow his machines to grow more powerful by consuming the flesh of those he feeds to them.’

Well, that certainly sounded believable. Morgunov would absolutely work on a project like that.

Gohvis-Aeha did have a counterargument, though. ‘Do you have any idea how many failed experiments that man has conducted since I’ve known him?’

‘I understand,’ said Gohvis-Aeha. He didn’t, really. But with the Prime having experienced this so many times before, he knew that it was better to keep this one talking, rather than trying to relate or sympathize or pose questions that diverted the train of thought. These days, this personality seemed to be the less dominant one. It only popped up when it was feeling quite strongly about something.

‘Of course you do, Master! I’ve missed you! Thank you for everything!’

‘You’re very welcome, Jonah. It is good to hear from you again.’

More laughter. ‘I’ve done it, Master! I beat him! The abomination! I finally got one over on him! He didn’t see it coming until it was too late! Kehehe!’

Interesting. He still didn’t quite understand, but inquiring further wasn’t the right strategy. ‘That’s good to hear. I’m proud of you, lad.’

And there was yet more laughter, lasting even longer this time.

How strange. By Gohvis-Aeha’s estimation, that laughter carried with it a sense of genuine relief, not malicious delight as he had first thought.

But perhaps that was reasonable. The Prime had never known Jonah to be malicious in any way, other than towards Germal. Or himself. That was one of the most confusing things about this personality. It seemed to hate both its counterpart and itself, and yet it also seemed to love life as a whole. It had often expressed a desire to explore and see the world.

And it was gentle as a lamb, as well, which may have contributed to why the other personality had become so dominant by comparison.

Gohvis-Aeha wished he could consult the Prime’s memories more deeply and check how long it had been since he’d last spoken to Jonah. He had a feeling that it had been many years, though he wasn’t at all certain.

‘It’s not hopeless, after all, Master! They haven’t won yet!’

The temptation to ask for clarification was truly strong now, but he resisted. ‘Of course they haven’t. I told you that long ago, did I not?’

‘You did! Yes, you did! Truthfully, I don’t think I quite believed! I’m sorry, Master! I believe you now!’

‘I’m glad to hear that.’

‘Ah... what a great day. Mm. Master. I can feel myself fading. I’m sorry I can’t be more help. Don’t be fooled by his lies. He’s not as confused, anymore. He doesn’t follow you. He’ll--’

The thrashing returned, informing him that Germal was taking control again.

‘What work is so important that it requires the Demon be kept alive?’ asked Germal. ‘That man is an existential threat to our kind, Master.’

Gohvis-Aeha cocked an eyebrow at that but said nothing. There was no reason to answer Germal’s question, especially after getting a glimpse of just how much the Liar had been hiding from him this whole time.

Germal kept going. ‘If you do not kill him now, then you will have to do so sooner or later. It is inevitable, Master. And it will only become more difficult the longer we wait, as he continues to develop new technological menaces. You have seen what his “Roberts” are capable of firsthand, yes? Imagine how much more trouble they will become in even just twenty years, if he continues to refine them.’

The draconic projection wanted to laugh. ‘What makes you think he is a threat to our kind?’

‘I don’t think--’

He felt the Liar twist and flail in his grip. If he didn’t know better, he might’ve thought the man was trying to wriggle free.

There was no risk of that, though, and Germal would have known that.

No, this was something else.

The personalities were fighting again.

The Prime had seen this many times, though not in recent years. It had been particularly prevalent at the beginning of Germal’s apprenticeship, to the point where the Prime had labored daily with the boy for months in order to help him get his mind under control.

When the thrashing stopped, psychic laughter arrived. ‘Give up, you abominable fool! It’s my win! The Mad Demon is forever against you now! Forever on OUR side!’ And the laughter continued.

What in the world? That voice wasn’t talking to him, Gohvis-Aeha felt. Both personalities within Germal revered the Prime and would never speak to him in such a manner.

He might’ve liked to hear what the other personality had to say in response, but this one seemed to be in full control, at the moment, so there was no hope of that.

‘Ah! Master! Apologies! Please don’t mind my gloating.’ A few chortles still persisted, however.

‘You seem quite pleased with yourself.’

‘Oh, if only you knew, Master. How I wish I could explain everything in its entirety! But I lack the words. And the cohesion. And the time. Oh, the time. The damn time! It’s never enough, Master! Never!’

It worked like a charm. Soon, Morgunov was the one giving chase while Gohvis-Aeha led the way.

As a result, a new lull in the fighting arrived as the Vanguardians struggled to keep pace while also fending off Kallmakk’s attacks from the rear. Rarely did those same attacks reach all the way up to Gohvis-Aeha’s position.

The main worry was simply paying enough attention to what Morgunov and his robots were up to. Perhaps the madman was hesitant to turn on him fully and threaten their neutral attitudes toward one another for the remainder of this battle, but he doubted that hesitation would last forever. Morgunov was not renowned for his patience or self-control.

The land at his feet became a blur as he sped across the wilderness. He no longer even felt like he was making contact with the ground while he ran. He might as well have been sailing over water.

He considered slowing down, in case Morgunov needed it, but that didn’t appear to be the case. How was he doing that? Probably yet another of his hidden inventions. Koh certainly wasn’t having trouble, though Gohvis-Aeha couldn’t tell if the wolf was chasing after him now or still Morgunov.

At length, Germal’s telepathic voice arrived. ‘Master,’ he said. ‘Please, release me. You need not go to such lengths in order to protect me from the Demon. I came to this fight prepared.’

‘Hmph, if only it were that simple,’ answered Gohvis-Aeha.

‘Your interference in our battle makes little sense, Master. Why do you seek to protect him? I have never known you to have any affection for him or his cronies. I thought your disgust with Vanderberk stemmed as much from the Demon as from the Weasel himself.’

He might have sighed if he wasn’t already utilizing the full capacity of his psychically projected lungs. ‘This is what you get for making a move without first informing me. If this has been your plan of many years, then you should have consulted me. We probably could have come to some sort of agreement and avoided this whole mess.’

‘...Truly?’

‘Truly. But now my hand is forced, and I must move to protect my own interests before they are destroyed. There is much work that would be lost, if I let you kill him. Not that I believe you would have managed to do so, mind you.’

Father had told the Prime in no uncertain terms that he did not wish to get involved in this war, so Gohvis-Aeha had no doubt that Father would be supremely pissed off about being pulled into it.

Which could be a problem. For both himself and for the Prime.

But would Father even realize that this was his doing? He couldn’t be blamed if it just seemed like a coincidence. In fact, if anyone was going to receive Father’s blame here, it would almost certainly be Morgunov.

And better still, Father was perhaps the only one in the world who could talk any amount of sense into Morgunov, thereby saving Germal’s life.

Admittedly, that might’ve been a bit overly optimistic, but in Gohvis-Aeha’s opinion, no other path forward afforded even the slightest chance of such an outcome.

So that was the decision made.

The problem then became how he would actually make it happen. In actual practice, the notion that he could “steer” this battlefield somewhere was perhaps more ambitious than he’d realized.

Morgunov was the focal point. The Vanguardians were chasing him. And Kallmakk was constantly disrupting that, creating openings for the Mad Demon.

So the task here was... what, then? To force Morgunov in a certain direction?

Impossible.

The man could not be led by force. And trying to do so would likely make Morgunov think that he'd turned on him, which might prompt even more erratic behavior from the madman.

But again, this chase was a curious thing. Morgunov may have been leading it, but was he truly trying to escape?

Gohvis-Aeha could make a wager. Morgunov wanted Germal dead, yes? So carrying Germal away might prompt Morgunov to change up and give chase, instead. And Germal was much more manageable as a kidnappee than Morgunov.

So that was what he did.

He waited for another opening, which Kallmakk soon provided.

A great pillar of black energy dug a volcanic trench into the ground, leaving a chain of explosions, smoke, and molten earth in its wake as it ripped all the way into the horizon. Everyone on the field had to disperse in order to dodge it, with several not succeeding.

Gohis-Aeha knew he had to be precise with his movements here. The distraction was a bit too good, honestly. He might’ve been able to grab Germal here and get away entirely without Morgunov even noticing.

Which was a thought. Hmm. Would that be the better option?

Agh. Maybe. He could mull it over later. Better to stick with the plan, for now.

He blitzed across the sundered field and scooped up the Liar of Lyste like a sack of potatoes. Then he made sure to run by Morgunov, giving him a nice view of the prize.

It was a strange position to be in, he knew. If he did nothing here, then he had a rather strong feeling that, eventually, Morgunov would either escape or even turn the tables on the Vanguardians here. And judging by the man’s aura, by what a furious inferno it was, the latter possibility was seeming quite likely indeed.

Did Morgunov even wish to escape? Or was killing Germal his foremost priority now?

Gohvis-Aeha couldn’t allow that to happen, either.

Additionally, there were the vast distances to take into consideration. This battle here, while theoretically part of the Second Continental War, was not actually taking place on the Eloan continent like all the others. So if he meant to drag this battle over to one of those, it would mean crossing one of the oceans first--while the feldeath continued to give chase, no less.

Would that even be possible?

Well, yes, of course it would. An ocean wouldn’t stop Kallmakk, nor Morgunov, nor Koh, nor Germal... but Iceheart and the rest of the Vanguardians?

Some of them would probably get left behind. Which would gradually weaken them, further strengthening Morgunov’s position and diminishing Germal’s. There were also aerial dogfights still taking place over the Luthic. That probably wouldn’t be an issue, but there were a few pilots in the world who could make it one.

All in all, not ideal.

There were two other options, though.

Instead of bringing this fight to one of the other warfronts, he could bring it to the Prime. That would certainly mix things up. The Prime would probably be quite displeased with him, but at the moment, he was quite displeased with the Prime, too, so maybe that would only be fair.

For some reason, however, he found himself leaning away from that option. Why? There was scarcely enough opportunity to think all these things through, let alone dwell on his feelings about them. But it did bother him a bit. He wanted to return to the network, didn’t he? To reestablish the strongest connection possible? Going to the Prime was the easiest way to do that. Probably the smartest, too.

And yet he was reluctant. He wanted to find some other way. Miserable as he was, he didn’t want this to...

Ugh.

So what did that leave?

The last option. And perhaps worst. Or best, accounting for distance.

He could bring the battle to Father.

There’d been one particular battle, from the first so-called “Continental War” some hundred years prior, when the Prime’s abilities had been tested like never before. Over two months of continuous combat. And during that time, he saw countless servants being pushed to their limit by their reapers and beyond.

Until they broke.

It had been roughly the same story as here, actually, though it had instead been Dozer that the Vanguardians were feverishly trying to corner and kill. They’d nearly managed it, too, truth be told, but in the end, Father escaped.

And their many noble sacrifices had been for naught.

Though, it did bring the war to a rather swift conclusion. Father wisely decided to lay low while he recovered from that grueling ordeal, and peace broke out in the meantime.

By comparison, these Vanguardians here were already not looking very good after only a few days of combat. But perhaps that was an unfair assessment, considering they had been Morgunov’s prisoners for weeks beforehand, and there was no telling what sort of horrific treatment the madman had been putting them through.

Regardless, this couldn’t go on for much longer. Unless they somehow found replacements, Morgunov would outlast them. Maybe even without the feldeath’s help.

In that respect, Gohvis-Aeha could most certainly be of assistance. While his access to the network was tenuous and frequently getting interrupted, he did have a modest grasp of what was going on with some of the other warfronts.

Meaning he could try to steer this battle over to one of those.

But in service of which side?

Did he really want to assist the Vanguardians? The Prime had deployed him here in order to ensure Morgunov’s survival, though not out of any sense of duty or affection. The Prime wanted something from him and didn’t intend to let him die until he got it.

And yet, Gohvis-Aeha was also getting a faint impression that the others had already given Morgunov up for dead. That this was a lost cause. That the Mad Demon might as well be left to fend for himself at this point.

But his connection to the network wasn’t strong enough to be sure of that. If only he could find an opening to meditate for a few minutes.

Yeah. This was definitely the shittiest job alright.

But as the days drew out, he began to think that perhaps this giant mess did have one, singular upside. Something that took a while to truly appreciate.

If he didn’t have time to convene with the others or even consult the Prime, then that really only left one thing to do, didn’t it?

He had to make the decision himself.

He had to be... independent.

What an absolutely wondrous realization.

Kallmakk was truly a resilient bastard. Most attacks simply phased through or bounced off of it. After days of continuous combat, it was becoming quite clear that their only real hope of putting the thing down for good was to coordinate their attacks.

Which everyone refused to do, of course.

Save for him, at least. They would work together with him but not each other.

So that had become his task here. Finding the openings in the fight and using it to quickly discuss strategy with both sides. One time, he nearly tricked them into working together, but Morgunov saw through it at the last moment and used the opportunity to attack Germal, instead.

And in retrospect, Gohvis-Aeha supposed he should have been expecting as much. Morgunov, more than anyone else here, probably wanted Kallmakk to survive as long as possible. The madman had led them to it, after all. Trying to acquire the Mad Demon’s assistance was probably a fool’s errand, at least until the Vanguardian crowd was thinned a bit.

But when he decided to devote more of the openings to discussions with the Vanguardians, they proved just as stubborn, if not even more so. While they might have been more receptive to the idea of working together in order to eliminate the feldeath, they were not at all on board with his proposal to have some of them fall back. Even when he said he would help them fake their deaths in order to fool both the feldeath and Morgunov, they refused.

They were too eager. They saw an opportunity here to finally slay an emperor of Abolish and definitively shift the balance of power across the entire world in their favor.

These men.

They didn’t care if they died in the process. Even their reapers.

He couldn’t fault them for their bravery, at least.

But how long could this stalemate continue? Realistically, it could actually go on for many, many more days. Potentially even weeks. Everyone here was determined and immortal. The reapers could just keep pushing their servants on and on, not caring about the future consequences.

But those consequences could not be put off forever. The Prime had only experienced this a few times over the course of his long life: these sorts of fights that truly tested a servant’s ability to endure.

Only a few times, yes, but every one of them had made for quite the lasting memory.

It was a testament to how utterly infuriated Morgunov must have been, the fact that he was resorting to his power like this for attacks. Typically, the Mad Demon only liked to use his inventions in combat. As a matter of pride, the Prime had been told.

Thankfully, Gohvis-Aeha had something of a counter for that particular ability. His hyper-refined somatosensory system. The mechanoreceptors and thermoreceptors of his body may have merely been psychic imitations of the Prime’s, but thanks to the passive telepathic link that he could establish with every living body in the immediate area, they might as well have been real. And more attuned to the environment than ever. Only the Prime himself would have superior senses, and only when not maintaining so many projections on the network.

The Mad Demon’s power gave off slight environmental cues via heat and vibrations when activating on a given location. At an elemental level, the chemical reactions that the man was provoking may have been impossible by conventional standards, but they were reactions, nonetheless. And Gohvis-Aeha could sense them.

He could, therefore, also intercept them before they skewered Germal through the spine or skull; or captured him in an electrocuting cage; or torched him with roaring flamethrowers; or riddled him with bullet holes from primitive firearms.

It was like trying to swat a neverending swarm of flies. If those flies had learned to harness human weaponry.

And as the days drew out, the tactics naturally became more complex, as well. Morgunov increasingly sought to create distractions--or use distractions being provided by the damn feldeath--in order to land a much more devastating blow on Germal.

Truthfully, Gohvis-Aeha did not know if he could keep this up. The only saving grace here seemed to be that the Liar was a bit more evasive and durable than even the Prime had realized. Though, of course, Koh did quite a lot of heavy lifting there, too.

The Maneater of Melmoore was performing well, but that was no surprise. If anything, it seemed to him that Koh might’ve actually been holding back, somewhat. It made little sense, given everything he’d come to know of the very strange circumstances surrounding this battle, but when compared to some of the Prime’s sparring sessions with Koh in the past, Gohvis-Aeha could not dismiss a certain sense of confusion.

But there was hardly time to dwell on it. And there was already plenty of confusion circulating from other sources during all this madness.

More than once, he found himself questioning this mission in its entirety. The Prime wanted to assist everyone and reserve the value judgments for later, once Blacksong was successfully averted, but the longer that Gohvis-Aeha spent out here, so detached from the network, the more he wondered if it might not be better to turn on one of these annoying jackasses first. Or both of them, even. It seemed apparent enough that they deserved it.

Turning on Germal would be the most problematic, though. The Prime had devoted an enormous amount of time and effort to studying mutant physiology, and Germal had been one of the most useful subjects to that end.

In fact, it was not an exaggeration to say that the network itself may never have come to fruition without studying the so-called Liar of Lyste.

The split personality that existed within Germal’s mind had been the basis for the network’s creation. From that starting idea, the Prime learned to divide his own consciousness by aspects of personality and thereby create free-thinking, self-governing psychic projections.

It had taken many years, of course. As far as the Prime could discern, this technique was truly groundbreaking. The great difficulty of it had been striking the right balance. The personality aspects were important for the generation of new, independent thought, but at the same time, if that independence was too strong, then the more deeply held values within the Prime’s psyche would be at risk of changing within the projections.

Which would cause a clash of more than mere personalities.

That was where the network came in--and why it was so important. The desire to maintain the network had been baked into each projection at the most basic level. They yearned to stay connected--and ached terribly when forced to sever the link, even briefly.

It certainly didn’t make this fight any easier, either. Dealing with such a distracting feeling in the midst of keeping himself and everyone else alive at the same time--it was like trying to juggle flaming torches while starving to death.

He was not having a good time.

And of course, Morgunov and Germal refused to work together, even against the feldeath. They were constantly taking pot shots at one another, with Morgunov’s being especially deadly to deal with.

The Mad Demon didn’t often use his power this way. His mastery over integration, combined with pan-rozum, allowed him to create quite complex machinery out of almost anything. Not as complex as the “Roberts,” as he was apparently calling them, but still.

‘Facade?’ said Roman. ‘I’m not pretending to be happy. I am happy. For the most part. I mean, what have I got to complain about?’

‘Don’t do that,’ said Voreese, her tone abruptly more severe. ‘Don’t minimize yourself. We both know you’ve been through a lot, my dear.’

‘I’m just saying: I’m fine. You don’t need to worry so much.’

‘Roman, it’s one thing to keep a stiff upper lip and get on with your life. That’s great. Admirable, even. It’s another thing to pretend nothing ever happened in the first place. Especially if you’re on a journey of “self-reflection,” as you say.’

Maybe she had a point. It was rare to get this more serious, almost motherly side of her. She seemed to reserve it for when she really wanted him to listen.

Or at least, that was his impression.

He made no response, however, and just let her words sink in.

They finally made it out of the tower, but rather than heading straight for the Tower of Night to find Gina, Roman was made to stop and wonder what was going on in the central courtyard, instead. A crowd had gathered.

Voreese flew ahead of him and consulted the nearest reaper. ‘Has something happened?’ she asked.

‘Ill news from Vantalay,’ said the other reaper, whose name Roman could not recall. ‘Apparently, after getting into a disagreement with the other heads, Lord Elroy has disappeared.’

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