The Second Archon War Chapter 60: Sapientia Oromasdis 11 (Patreon)

Sapientia Oromasdis 11: The Cycles of Samsara

“We have movement!” 

Fatoumata looked up from where she’d been working on her laptop, frowning at the display screen. She’d come into Cauldron’s primary nerve center to check on the status of Endbringer activity, specifically the Simurgh. They were overdue for an attack, and Fatoumata had been visiting the control center for several hours a day for a week and a half now. 

“Simurgh is exiting the exosphere and heading for the thermosphere,” one of the techs said, sweat breaking out on their face as their eyes darted across the screen. 

“Alert all Protectorate units to go into standby, along with our allies. They’ll only have minutes,” Fatoumata said calmly, closing her laptop and coming to stand before the main display, where someone had thrown up a tracker with the designation for EB-002 on it. The Simurgh was indeed making a beeline through the layers of the atmosphere, circling the Earth at what appeared to be a lazy pace, but was truly many times the speed of sound. 

“She’s heading for… the Arabian Peninsula,” someone called after long tense moments, and a sigh of relief went up from all assembled. 

“Where? Track her. I want all eyes on her, and get our Endbringer Response teams ready to move on my call,” Fatoumata ordered, her eyes tracking the indicator as the map narrowed to the possible window of the Simurgh’s targets. Cairo? Ankara? Riyadh?

“She’s veering East, could be making for India,” someone commented. 

“No,” Fatoumata said, her eyes glued to the screen, heart pounding. “She’s too far north.”

The Simurgh tracked back west, then her scope narrowed, and Fatoumata grimaced. 

“Iraq. She’s making for Baghdad,” she said at last, leaning back. “Tell the teams to stand down for now. That’s Farasha’s territory.”

“But… won’t we still offer to help?” someone asked.

Fatoumata nodded. “Reach out to the Iraqi embassy. Have our teams on standby to render assistance. At the very least, we’ll go in to clean up once the Song finishes, and Farasha is dead.” 

Everyone nodded, and Fatoumata shook her head sadly. “Sorry, Doctor Bashir. It looks like your luck-”

Fatoumata’s Vision suddenly flared brightly, and she gasped, feeling as though she’d just been dipped in icy water. She staggered back, her hand flying to her temples. A sense of overwhelming sadness and resolve washed over her, and she sank to her knees, trembling and gasping for breath.

“Doctor? Doctor! What’s wrong?” several aides helped Fatoumata to her feet, and she stared at the screen, her mouth agape. 

Finally, she swallowed, her mouth feeling dry as the desert the Simurgh had visited. “Get the satellites in position. We’ll need to watch this battle as it unfolds.”

Several people grimaced, and but a minute or two later, a satellite image showed the Simurgh, descending towards the city of Baghdad, her wings yet furled.

And a small point of green light rose to meet her.

Despite herself, Fatoumata’s lips parted and she spoke a single word.

“Archon.”

The first blow of the battle was struck by Nahida, sending out an orb of green energy. It contained all the destructive venom she could muster, all of life turned in upon itself in a sickening parody. The orb flew right at the Simurgh, who tried to dodge but failed. Still, she caught the blow on her wings, screeching in pain as the hit landed. 

For a brief moment, Nahida thought she had won. Then the Simurgh darted forward, far faster than Nahida thought possible. She slashed at Nahida with her wings, sending out a psychic wave, trying to seize control of Nahida’s mind and senses. 

Nahida formed a Dendro barrier, then struck back, this time forming thorny vines that rushed at the Simurgh and tried to wrap about her, binding her wings. The angel brushed them off with a single flap of one set of wings, then attacked Nahida again, this time coming in with a blast of psionic energy. 

Nahida’s barrier was shattered, and her mind and body were battered by the Simurgh’s attack. She tried to reform the shield, but the Simurgh hit her again, and again, until Nahida’s tiny form slammed into the pavement below, her lifeblood leaking out.

A tree sprouted where Nahida died, but it was trampled under the Simurgh’s wave of mental assault. Grinning, the Simurgh spread her wings again, and her song of destruction began to envelop the entire city as the God of Life lay dead beneath her. 

Sleep. Dream. 

Analysis: 0.01% complete. 

Ei turned from where her Senti were rapidly assembling in orderly rows, glancing beyond the horizon, beyond sight. A slow smile played at her lips.

“So. Buer reveals herself at least.” She turned back to Mushu and Tsukoyomi, who were both garbed and girded for war. “Have the sentai stand down. There will be no need.”

“What, are we just going to leave another city to be raised?” Mushu demanded hotly, but Tsukoyomi raised a hand. 

“That is not what my mother means. Another guards the mortals of that land. Our forces shall not be needed,” Tsukoyomi stated simply.

Ei nodded, weighing her options. “Prepare an embassy. We must be courteous, but Buer is cautious. She is a very young god, no more than 500 years of age. Locate the country in which she finds herself, then make quiet overtures. Perhaps she does not yet wish to reveal herself fully to the world.”

“What, is this Buer dueling the Simurgh right now?” Mushu demanded as Keiga came over.

“We are prepared, what are your orders?” she asked, bowing to Ei. She wore only a loose robe, but her weapons were tooth and claw. 

“You are a mother, Keiga. You shall lead our embassy to visit Buer. She may respond well to you,” Ei stated. 

Keiga glanced at her husband in confusion, but he shook his head. “Guess that Dendro Archon finally showed herself; she’s fighting the Simurgh or something. We’re not needed.”

“Oh.” Keiga considered this, then sighed. “I shall get changed then.”

“Bring Ami, Clara, and Sayu with you,” Ei instructed. “It would be good for them to meet another god. Buer is the god of wisdom, and unlikely to be as bad an influence as Barbatos.”

“As you command,” Keiga said with a bow, then went off to get changed.

Ei turned back, sensing the massive power on display, and frowned. The real question was what the Sustainer would do in response to this. If he threatened Buer… Ei had much to consider. 

Waken. 

A massive tree sprouted from below Nahida, soon growing to impossible heights and broadening until its mighty trunk bore her up towards her foe. The Simurgh, taken off guard by the sudden appearance of a tree that dwarfed any natural one, backwinged for a moment. Branches reached out and swatted at her, and for a few moments, the Simurgh was on the defensive, swooping away as Nahida guided branches and leaves to come at the False Angel from all sides. 

The Endbringer flew to a height too great for the branches to reach, and began to pummel the tree with psychic energy. 

That meant little to Nahida, who had gathered enough power at this point to form a great dome over herself. Then she called upon the leaves of the tree, and sent a storm of razor sharp projectiles at the Simurgh. The beast hissed, sending out gusts of wind and battering the leaves with psychic blasts, but it wasn’t enough to completely spare her. Still, she battled on, singing a keening dirge as she fought against Nahida.

The duel dragged on for long minutes, neither side able to get an advantage. Then Nahida heard gunfire. She blinked, having kept all her focus on battling the Simurgh, and turned her gaze down. 

Baghdad was in chaos. The streets ran red with blood and the sky darkened with smoke and flame. Horrified, Nahida swooped down, trying to free the minds of those afflicted. But in doing so, she lost her focus. A psychic battering ram assaulted her, and Nahida felt her bones snap. She tried to heal, tried to fight back, but the Simurgh pummeled her mercilessly. She was barely able to hold the line, until she felt a surge of anemo.

Horrified, Nahida turned to see Faruzan, her eyes full of madness and hate, charging up at her, arrows notched to her bowstring. The blast of anemo sent an arrow through Nahida’s heart, and she fell from her perch to lay amongst the wreckage of her city, the life bleeding out from her as the Simurgh’s triumphant song sent her people into paroxysms of violence. 

Sleep. Dream. 

Analysis: 16.48% complete. 

Waken.

Blinking, the Simurgh reoriented herself. What had just happened? Ah, there. A green streak of light coming up at her. It seemed her foe had great master powers. She’d known that a great power was brewing in Baghdad, something that had been sharply reducing crime rates and causing a disruption in the Shard Network. What it was made the Simurgh suspicious. Could it be something like the Angel of Freedom or the Terrible Lightning, those that had slain two of her siblings?

She knew not, only that she needed to become a worthy opponent for her Maker, and that mankind must be tested. So, she came. Cautiously, and ready to flee. But this little light? This was pathetic.

Casually, the Simurgh sent out several psychic blows and prepared to sing. To her shock, the light dodged her attacks perfectly, knowing exactly where they would fall. A precog, then. Well, two could play at that game. 

True prescience was impossible, but it was possible to look through alternate realities that were moments into the future and to calculate every possible permutation and action. The Simurgh ran the numbers now, and sent out mental and physical assaults at her foe, calculated to be responses to responses to responses. 

They were each and everyone expertly countered, with minimal effort.

The Simurgh began to… not feel worry but felt something approaching wariness. No matter. She had a number of tricks none had yet seen. 

The Simurgh screamed, reaching out and pulling for nearby Thinker powers, as well as unleashing several toys she’d borrowed from her previous visits to specimen population centers. She let loose with a barrage of lasers and missiles, grinning predatorially as this time, her attacks met their mark. 

Then a spear of wood stabbed out, skewering her right wing, then wrapping about it in thorny vines. The Simurgh shrieked in pain, but she’d tapped into the local Thinker’s powers, and now had a good guess as to who and what this was. 

A little girl. She was dueling a child. What insolence. She bore down on the attacker, but their will and mind were shockingly resilient. What was this child? She could see her attacker in her minds eye: a green eyed and silver haired creature that appeared to be no more than six or seven solar cycles. 

Obviously, that meant her prey was physically fragile. Time to change tactics. 

The Simurgh dove, taking another blow from a tree that appeared out of nowhere, shredding her left wing. She had four more and didn’t need them to fly, but the pain was insulting. She was the Simurgh, most cunning of the Endbringers, and she was reduced to this?

She closed in quickly, startling the child as she slammed into them. Despite the fact that she preferred to use her other powers to fight, the Simurgh was shockingly stong and incredibly powerful in close quarters. She simply preferred not to exchange blows, especially not with brutish capes that could take a great deal of punishment.

This fragile creature, however, was nothing. The Simurgh gleefully ripped the tiny form apart in a spray of blood, savoring the iron tang. It was over in mere moments. Now, to-

The detonation of dendro energy that washed over the Simurgh scoured her from existence utterly. Every living cell in her body mutated wildly at the same moment, exploding into a dozen different lifeforms until her body had been ripped apart into protozoa, alien fungi, and a dozen varieties of rapidly shifting higher-order animals that died nearly as soon as they were born.

A wave of constantly mutating life enveloped first Bahdad, then most of the Arabian Peninsula as the most horrific, hellish jungle of unimaginable ferocity grew in an instant. The current inhabitants, from the smallest single-cell organism, to every man, woman, and child, were horrifically mutated beyond recognition. Soon, hordes of mutant monsters poured out over the entire planet, engulfing the neighboring countries in only hours. 

Only Scion was able to beat the jungle back with any success, but he could not destroy it entirely without glassing the surface. Soon, he decided to let this new experiment run its course, and mankind struggled against this new and horrible foe, a seemingly endless stream of ferocious mutants hell-bent on avenging a death no one had even realized had happened. 

Sleep. Dream. 

Analysis: 47.31% complete. 

Sitting atop the van, Venti let the wind blow through his hair, closing his eyes and listening to it. A smile curved his lips. Clever. He should have known Samiel’s heir would be a devilishly cunning little thing. For someone as clearly inexperienced as she was, she seemed to be doing quite well for herself. Not that Venti had a clear picture of what was going on, and it was taking the wind long minutes to give him a better idea, but he could clearly feel the amount of elemental energy she was gathering. 

“Venti? What’s going on? Why’d we pull over?” Naomi poked her head over the side of the van, looking curious, but not concerned. 

“Oh, just considering my options. A new friend of mine just revealed herself,” Venti laughed as Naomi scrambled up onto the roof with him. 

“Oh? A new friend? Who, exactly?” Naomi asked, peering in the direction that Venti was looking. 

In response, Venti reached out, then palmed a card from behind Naomi’s ear. She rolled her eyes at him, but took it. She tilted her head to one side, confused. 

“But… this is just a Genius Invocation TCG card. Uh, Lesser Lord something or other,” Naomi said, holding the card up.

“Kusanali,” Venti agreed. “Though I usually call her Buer. She’d been here for some time, a whole year in fact.”

Naomi mulled that over for a moment, then clapped her hands. “The Dendro Archon! Did Amber and Lauren find her in Egypt at last?”

“No, she’s a bit further to the North and East by my estimation,” Venti mused. “She’s currently dueling the Simurgh.”

“The Simurgh!?” Naomi looked around wildly, then grabbed Venti by the shirt and dragged him off the roof of the van. “We have to help! She’s just a little girl! Capri! Hit the gas, we need to get to- where is she, Venti!?”

“Relax,” Venti said, brushing himself off and disentangling his shirt Naomi’s hands. “She’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“I heard something about the Simurgh,” Capri said, putting her van into gear and turning on her hazards. “Where? We can’t let that monster destroy another city!”

“She won’t, I told you, Buer has it handled,” Venti said, slipping into the back seat and leaning back with a contented smile on his face. “But, we may as well head there. Take us to the airport, though. Best if we fly.”

“Can’t you like, fly us there?” Naomi asked as Capri gunned the engine and roared back onto the road. They had been traveling through the Czech Republic, but the tires squealed as they raced for Cheb and the nearest airport. 

“That sounds like work,” Venti said with a yawn, tipping his beret over his eyes. “Also, it would be incredibly rude. We won’t be flying directly there. It’s somewhere in the Middle East, so… how do you feel about visiting your parents, Naomi?”

Capri hit the brakes so hard that Venti went flying forward, as he hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt, and smacked his face into the back of Naomi’s seat. “Ow! What did you do that for?!”

“You know EXACTLY how she feels about visiting her parents,” Capri said coldly, turning to glare at Venti. 

“Yes, well, I suppose we could fly to Istanbul instead,” Venti grumbled, picking up his now wrinkled hat. 

“No, we can fly into Tel Aviv,” Naomi said quietly, shaking her head. “I suppose it’s time I confront that part of my past.” She took Capri’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. “We confront it. Together.”

“If you’re sure,” Capri sighed, and put the van back into motion. “That was still a dick move, Venti.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment,” he said dismissively, then grinned. “But, I do think it would be interesting to meet Naomi’s parents. How do you think they’d react to my angel impression?”

“Not much of an impression,” Naomi sighed, and Venti shot her a hurt look. She rolled her eyes and clarified, “It would be like us showing up to a cover band contest for the Tone Deaf Bards. We wouldn’t be doing an impression, we’re just ourselves.”

“Didn’t Charlie Chaplin lose a look alike contest for himself?” Capri asked as they sped down the road again.

“Yes, so did Dolly Parton. She lost to a drag queen, actually,” Naomi agreed. 

“Well, I’m going to have to find some Venti look-alike contests then. Losing one of those would be hilarious,” Venti chuckled, leaning back in his seat again. He smiled, but his mind was racing a mile a minute, casting out for Buer. 

Good luck, Little Lord. And welcome to the madness. 

Waken.

The two attacks came in on the standard pattern: one mental, one a kinetic assault. Nahida dodged both easily, then countered with two dendro blasts spaced at precise timings. This was variation 347-B, so the next attack would be not on Nahida, but a scream to give the Simurgh access to the shard network. Nahida launched a barrage of junk data into the Shard Network, flooding it even as the Simurgh’s scream reached out, and utterly baffling the attack. 

Stymied, the Simurgh reeled, the junk data backwash affecting her own precognative and analytical abilities. During the opening, Nahida launched a swarm of spores into the air, each of them blooming into fungi beasts that began to attack with Electro and Anemo. Experimentation had shown that she could not produce Cryo, Pyro, or Hydro fungi, but this would suffice. She added her own dendro blasts, causing a flurry of Hyperbloom reactions that shredded the Simurgh. 

Still, the Simurgh didn’t panic: it would take a lot more than that to take her out. She knocked most of the fungi from the sky with blows that would pulp them, then launched herself directly at Nahida.

Just as expected. She was remaining on the 347-B variant, bridging to 4731-A as was the usual pattern. 

Nahida created a dozen clones of herself, then shrouded herself from sight with a simple illusion as the Simurgh tried to chase down the clones. They each exploded in a violet burst of concentrated dendro that ravaged the Endbringer’s body. 

The rest of the clones attacked the Simurgh directly with blasts of Dendro, infusing her further with elemental energy even as the Endbringer tried to sing and seize the minds of those below. 

This was countered by growing several large plants that sent out waves of their own psychic energy at precisely the correct wavelength to blunt the attack. It had taken 7681 repetitions to get it right, but now that Nahida had it dialed in, there was no issue. She launched another series of spores and summoned more fungi, estimating that the Simurgh was now sufficiently infused with Dendro energy. 

Carefully, she coordinated the fungi, most of them Electro, and had them send in a stream of Electro right into the infused Simurgh, along with more spores. The massive thorny vines that bloomed from the Simurgh’s cells ripped most of her body asunder, but yet again, they had failed to fully penetrate. Nahida gritted her teeth in frustration, balling her tiny fists, and sent out another blast herself, even as more electro pummeled the Simurgh.

This proved to be a mistake. Desperately, the Simurgh dove for Nahida. She managed to dodge out of the way, but the Simurgh crashed into the ground behind her. Nahida dove down, bombarding the Simurgh even as she crashed through several buildings and wrecked a street. The Endbringer struggled to rise, to get back up, but now that she was earth bound, Nahida was not letting her go. She summoned forth every bit of plant life and fungi in the area, wrapping the Simurgh in choking vines and bursting her super dense cells, one layer at a time. At last, she got down to the core, stripped bare of flesh. Taking fully three minutes, Nahida assembled a colossal matrix of dendro, then sent a glowing javelin right at the core’s center. It ruptured in half, and at last, the Endbringer died fully.

Touching down, Nahida surveyed the wreckage, feeling weak and sick. Three people had been killed, eight more injured. 

Unacceptable losses.

She closed her eyes, and reset the simulation. 

Sleep. Dream. 

Analysis: 94.15% complete. 

Desperately, Doctor Bashir sped through the streets of Baghdad, gritting his teeth as his car bounced off another truck and blaring his horn as he fishtailed before regaining control. He never slowed, continuing to race for the Special Action Squad headquarters as the sirens wailed throughout the city.

“Allah, the merciful and benevolent, watch out for Qiqi. And please, Almighty God, do not let Nahida do anything too foolish,” he prayed. 

He plowed right through the unmanned barrier at the entrance, skidding to a halt right before HQ, where two dozen capes had assembled. He jumped out, looking around desperately and shouting, “Nahida! Nahida, where are you!”

“Bashir!” Faruzan cried, hurrying forward. “Nahida’s not here, what’s wrong?”

“Have you seen her?! I don’t know where she is!” Bashir cried, grabbing Faruzan’s arm desperately.

She shook her head, her face pale and drawn. “No. Farasha is hours away. We’ve no teleporters that can get to her in time. It’s just us against…it’s the Simurgh, isn’t it?”

“So I would expect. Or a new one,” Bashir muttered, looking worriedly up at the sky. 

“We mobilize from here,” one of the other capes stated, coming over and nodding to Bashir. “Good to see you, Doctor. This is a dark day. But we will prevail, somehow.”

“Allah willing,” Bashir agreed, gritting his teeth. Where was Nahida?

Tense moments past, and then someone cried out, “There! I can see her! She’s dropping out of the Atmosphere! Allah preserve us, it’s the Simurgh!” 

Sure enough, moments later, the Simurgh descended from the atmosphere to hover high above, her wings furled about her. Even as Bashir felt his bowels turn to liquid in fear, something even worse happened.

“NO!” he screamed, as a tiny green spark rose up from across the city, making straight for the Simurgh. It moved painfully slowly, but the Simurgh seemed to sense the intruder, dropping lower and making for what could only be Nahida.

“I can take twenty! Into the van!” Bashir cried, and jumped into the driver’s seat. Faruzan scrambled into the passenger’s seat, while a dozen others crammed in behind them. Bashir didn’t wait, speeding away as fast as he could, his siren wailing as they sped towards where Nahida and the Simurgh hung in the air. 

“What’s happening!? That… that can’t be Nahida!” Faruzan cried, pointing. “What is she doing?! She’s just a child!” 

“She’s a parahuman, it’s an Endbringer. We fight,” one of their passengers said, their voice only quivering slightly.

“She’s no parahuman,” Bashir gasped as he poured on more speed, heedless of the chaotic traffic around him. 

“Now is not the time for a lecture!” Faruzan snapped at him. “Parahuman, Vision Holder, it doesn’t-”

“SHE’S THE ARCHON!” Bashir roared, leaning forward as if he could will his van to move even slightly faster. “SHE’S THE DENDRO ARCHON!”

The others in the van fell silent, save for a sharp intake of breath from Faruzan.

“But… but she’s only a little girl,” Faruzan breathed as the cacophony of the city continued around them.

“Yes. She is my daughter,” Bashir agreed as the van sped the last few hundred meters to street directly below the Endbringer. “And Allah preserve me, I cannot let anything happen to her!” 

Waken.

The Simurgh felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu, an experience she’d never had before, her mind swimming. What… what was happening? She felt drained, spent as though from days of battle, and her body burned with pain. She’d barely descended on this city, what was-

Analysis Complete. Number of Repetitions: 10,000

What. The Simurgh tried to focus on the green speck flying towards her. Then the memories hit her like a wave. 

At first, she saw only her victory. Precisely 2500 repeated battles of her destroying her opponent. The first hundred were pathetically easy, with the Simurgh disposing of her weak and tiny opponent and her ineffectual attacks almost effortlessly. Then her foe put up better resistance, the battles lasting longer, though still ending in inevitable victory. Next the Simurgh began to take real wounds. Still, she triumphed, but soon only by the thinnest of margins, desperately plying every tool and tactic she had at her command to achieve victory.

And then, the Simurgh started losing. For 5000 battles, she went from narrow victories to slim defeats. These ended in mutual kills, with either the Simurgh dead or so wounded that the cities other defenders finished her off, or with such spectacular destruction as either the Simurgh or her opponent self destructed in an orgy of violence that swallowed the city or country in death.

And then, slowly, inexorably, inevitably, the Simurgh began to be defeated utterly. 

For 2500 battles, the Simurgh was taken apart meticulously. At first, it was a near-run thing, and she would nearly slay her opponent and leave the city bathed in death and flames, a pyrrhic victory for her foe. But still, she died. Again, and again, and again, she died. She died from vines bursting within her to ravage her body. She died when her shard exploded, muting her powers and leaving her helpless. She died from tiny fairies appearing about her and dragging her screaming into a nightmarish dimension from which she could not escape. She died from falling into an endless sleep, and never waking. 

The Simurgh’s attention snapped back to the presence, and she recoiled in horror as the tiny girl floated before her, a vast matrix of green power radiating around her, scripts of an alien tongue running in the very fabric of reality about them. 

I am Lesser Lord Kusanali, the Branch of Irminsul. This is my city. These are my people. This is my domain. Depart, interloper. Or you shall know the death you have visited on so many, 10,000 times over.

The Simurgh’s eyes opened wide, her mind screaming in terror. She hissed one word:

“Archon!”

Fear pushed aside everything else, leaving only the desperate need to flee. The Simurgh opened her wings and fled back to the cold, blessed darkness of empty space as fast as she could. She did not stop until she escaped the planet’s atmosphere entirely, going to the absolute extreme range at which her shard would function. 

Still, her core pulsed with sheer terror, and her body shook with fear. Against her will, her mind played out her deaths over, and over, and over. 

She tried to think of a way to defeat that dreadful little girl, the Archon of Life. 

But for all her powers, she came up with nothing. There was no possible plan. No way to win.

Shivering, alone, and terrified, the Simurgh tried to calm herself. She would strike other cities. Fight other people. Find another way to complete her directive.

But no matter what she did, those terrible green eyes stared into her very core.

There was no waking from this nightmare. 

Author’s Note:

This is what monsters have nightmares of. Fear the Radish. 

For those of you who read the Threat Assessment: Yes, I know. Don’t worry. We’ll get there. 

PHILO: And so the Brave Simurgh bravely ran away. Brave Lady Simugh, Run, Running Away.

OCTOBER: Never forget, people. For as adorable as she is, Nahida is not human, and never was.