26. Immortal Terror (Patreon)

So Sthrenslians don't have chairs, but it turns out they do have tables. Rather than being independent pieces of furniture, however, they are just kind of carved directly into the room. Sthrenslians aren't big on interior redecorating, I guess, because all of their furniture is incredibly permanent. They don't seem to build much when they can get away with carving it instead.

I have seen rope, I have seen baskets, I have seen satchels and I have seen sleds. I have not seen pottery, metallurgy, manufactured weapons, any form of writing, most of the simple machines, or even—and this is kind of a big deal here—fire. I am no historian, not by a longshot, so I don't know how much of this is normal but holy shit these guys haven't even researched the first level of the Civilization tech tree!

I sit down in one of the Sthrenslian-shaped divots in the floor (which is obviously way too big for me) as Hsthressis and her mother do the same. I can still see over the table, thankfully, because Sthrenslians are substantially wider and longer than they are tall, whereas I'm the opposite.

"So, Ambassador Evelyn," Chieftain Chlrehistra opens with unexpected formality, "do you have any particular meal requests? I'm afraid I don't know what a… creature of your kind eats."

Well, at least they acknowledge that I might not eat the same things as they do, but naturally I can eat basically anything. Still, my temptation gets the better of me and I make a request before realizing how fucking stupid of an idea it is.

"Something that doesn't grow anywhere near the surface would be an incredibly welcome change of pace," I tell her. "Preferably whole and uncut, if you have something small enough."

I regret it as soon as I hear it come out of my mouth; I have seen myself eat and it is not at all conducive to peace talks. Still, when the chieftain inquires about it I fail to work up the courage to backpedal.

"Whole and uncut? Does that have some significance?"

"Er, well, it's beneficial to me personally. I can… learn more from a meal that way, I guess?"

Hsthressis, who is fully aware that I ate her that one time, carefully tries not to think about that. I can hardly blame her.

"An interesting philosophy," the chieftain comments, rather understandably failing to recognize that I was being entirely literal. "Well, that shouldn't be difficult to arrange."

She flicks a tendril at some of the other Sthrenslians that followed us into the room but did not sit down, and two of them depart immediately.

"My War Leader, Talrissark, will be here shortly and at that point we can formally discuss surrender and reparations. In the meantime, I'm quite curious about you. You mentioned you are from somewhere far away. I'm curious to hear what it is like."

Huh... how do I explain Earth to a bunch of blind bug weasels who might decide to kill me if my explanation doesn't match up with their weird religion? How do I explain my home?

"The people of my home are large and powerful. Some of us live underground—" (mostly in their parents’ basements, but still) "—but the rest of us don't simply exist on the surface, we... conquered it, I guess? Your people dig shelters by carving out stone from the ground. We created shelter by building upwards, by taking stone and metal and erecting it towards the sky, creating caves where there was once open space."

"Okay, that's fucking badass," Hsthressis butts in.

"Hsthressis," her mother chides.

"It is though! Rather than hide from Khlasinas they invaded his territory and brought Sss with them! 'Fuck you, Big K, you don't get to live here anymore.' That's what I call a damn crusade."

"I guess Big K did get absorbed into Walmart, so that's not even inaccurate," I mutter to myself. "And Kmart is probably about to die."

"I don't know what half of that means but I got the part where Evelyn says I'm not wrong," Hsthressis continues smugly.

"It's certainly an… unconventional strategy, but you still live with a barrier between yourselves and Khlasinas?" the chieftain asks.

"Yes, our homes are completely enclosed from the outside world," I confirm.

Of course, we go outside a lot and can literally suffer health defects if we don't spend at least some time in the sun, but lying by omission is the name of the game today I guess.

"An interesting way to phrase that," the chieftain muses. "'Outside world.' In any case, I will thank you to not give any of my people ideas on fighting the surface. I acknowledge the validity of your zeal, but it seems like quite the dangerous path."

"My people are more uniquely suited to following that path," I say in agreement. "Our bodies work very differently from yours, and we have ways to fight… demons… that you don't."

I really, really don't like using the word 'demon' but if I go out of my way to avoid using it I'm worried that it will seem suspicious. It is, after all, the word they have for surface creatures. Still, wow, what an understatement. Like yeah, we have fucking eyeballs which certainly help but ancient humans can do crazy things like persistence hunting and long distance running and throwing things, and non-ancient humans can do stuff like... I don't know, building nuclear warheads I guess. The gap between our capabilities is comically large.

"Well," a male Sthrenslian comments as he enters the room, "that seems reasonable to me. It only makes sense that demons are skilled at fighting demons."

I recognize the voice. It's the same man that gave a big fancy speech after dropping Evelyn Prime into a pit and ordering all the warriors to eat me.

"You must be Talrissark the Purger," I grumble as he scuttles into the room and sits down right next to me.

I'm terrible at telling Sthrenslians apart, but if Talrissark has one notable feature it is the fact that he's pretty big. Makes sense that the scariest looking dude in the room is the War Leader of this caveman culture. ...Ugh, no, I can't think like that. Respect other cultures. Respect other cultures! Even if they think I'm not a person just because of where I happen to live!

...No, wait, that actually sounds like a pretty good reason not to respect a culture. Now I'm conflicted.

"I see my reputation precedes me," he hums happily.

"Hsthressis told me a bit about you," I explain.

That statement is entirely correct, but it immediately freaks Hsthressis out because she doesn't remember doing it; it was during that whole emulation bit before I knew she was a person, and I was sort of fucking with her head.

"Sorry, Hsthressis. You were sort of delirious at the time," I tell her.

"…Right," she mutters. "Um, I didn't ask?"

I blink, not that anyone else notices.

"Y-yeah, sorry," I tell her. "Anyway, Talrissark, I'm not a demon. I'd prefer to not spend the peace talks being insulted with the implication."

"My name is War Leader Talrissark," he snaps. "I'd prefer to not spend the peace talks being insulted by the omission."

I tilt my head, considering that.

"Apologies, I meant no offense," I answer honestly. "Of the many things Hsthressis has taught me, etiquette is not one of them. I ask that if I give offense again, that it be assumed as ignorance rather than malice. Please correct me when I falter."

Chlrehistra's tendrils quirk in amusement.

"It is my shame to admit I can think of no more believable excuse than the idea that my daughter has failed to instill a sense of politeness in her acquaintances," she says, to Hsthressis' disgruntled protests. "For future reference, our names are always to be preceded by our titles. I should be referred to as Chieftain or as Chieftain Chlrehistra, but it is not your place to refer to me as just Chlrehistra."

"Got it. So you're Chieftain, War Leader Talrissark is War Leader, so Hsthressis is…?"

"Hsthressis has yet to live to her twenty-fourth molt, and as such has not yet been assigned a duty to our clan," Chieftain Chlrehistra explains. "She does not yet have a title, and you may continue referring to her as simply Hsthressis."

"I'm going to be a warrior or else I'm going to quit," Hsthressis grunts.

"Hsthressis, you cannot 'quit.'"

"Watch me. Or better yet, just make me a warrior."

"I see a near-death experience has not improved your daughter's attitude at all," Talrissark snidely opines. "Is it entirely appropriate to have her constantly interrupting in here?"

"She will stay," the chieftain says firmly, "if for no other reason than to learn to be quiet."

She lightly wraps a tendril around her daughter's whiskers at that, causing Hsthressis to immediately freeze in terror. I can't help but also be a bit worried about the sympathetic feedback I'll get if she yanks them, but at the same time the sight of it is pretty funny.

"Back to the matter at hand," War Leader Talrissark grunts, "I'm told you have wisely decided to surrender."

Kind of an annoyingly arrogant way to phrase that, but I guess he's not wrong.

"Any end to mutual suffering is an application of wisdom," I manage.

"Well said," Chieftain Chlrehistra agrees. "But there is still a matter of payment for the suffering that was already wroght."

I frown, but nod.

"Blood was drawn on both sides," I point out. "But I'm interested in offering whatever aid I can supply your people regardless. I'm willing to accede to any reasonable demands."

"Magnanimous of you," the chieftain allows.

"Cowardly is more like it," Talrissark grunts. "The big creatures always forget the justice of the drop."

"My people have a pretty similar saying, actually," I point out. "'The bigger they are, the harder they fall.' I like it because unlike most sayings it's actually true. Like, that's how force works. Mass times acceleration and stuff."

I get a few confused expressions from the others before the Chieftain just decides to ignore that.

"Traditionally, a defeated clan is either made servile to the victor, or their chieftain is executed and their people are absorbed into the winning clan," Chlrehistra explains.

"Yeah, that's fine," I answer easily.

"You're correct, it is," Talrissark presses. "Do not think your tame giants can just laze about on the surface, nor your flitting air walkers. Your people are ours by right of conquest, and it is entirely by the mercy of our chieftain that you will be used for the good of all rather than destroyed and devoured like animals."

I tilt my head over in War Leader Talrissark's direction, to find him slightly out of his little sitting divot so as to better loom above me. It takes my mind a moment to register that he's actually trying to intimidate me. It's almost embarrassing that I didn't pick up on that, but I guess normally if someone ever tried to intimidate me I would be left a gibbering, sobbing mess in seconds. But Talrissark… he's a slightly oversized insectoid weasel. It's like being intimidated by a chitinous puppy. Before I can stop myself, the mental image overwhelms me and I start to make a... somewhat undiplomatic response.

"Pff... hahaha! Aaaahahaha!"

The giddy amusement overwhelms me, erupting in a series of giggles that only multiply at the resulting confusion of everyone else in the room. It's not funny. It shouldn't be this funny.

"Cease convulsing," Talrissark orders, but he's a fucking squeaky hissy adorable trilobite man so his words have somewhat of the opposite effect. I double over.

"Haaaahahahaha!"

It's not funny.  Oh shit it's not funny, what is wrong with me? Fuck, fuck, fuck. I am trying to make up for murder, why am I doing this!?

"What is she doing?" Chlrehistra asks, significantly more intimidated by my amusement than I'm likely to ever be by her War Leader.

"I… I'm not sure why," Hsthressis answers her, "but I feel like she's… laughing. Evelyn? Evelyn, you're kind of being scary again."

Scary. Ha! Scary, she says! Of course I'm being fucking scary, I'm absolutely terrified. Just not of motherfucking 'Talrissark the Purger.' Why would I be? How could I be?

"Sorry!" I answer her between quests for air. "Sorry, I just… aaahahaha! I just got that I'm supposed to be… cowed, or something! And it's just… you don't have to do any of this!"

"You will respect the Chieftain and this gathering with—" Talrissark starts, but I cut him off.

"You don't get it!" I insist, my laughter finally dying down. "This isn't a negotiation! No matter how badly this goes, the war is still over. I refuse to fight it. I would rather slit my own fucking throat than hurt any of you ever again. All you need to do, all I want you to do, is to tell me anything you'd like from me, and then I will make that happen."

Silence, other than my shaking breaths. Oh man, I've been doing this wrong. I've been doing everything wrong from the start. No more lies, no more misdirection. I can't handle twisting the truth anymore, not to them and not within my own head. It's too much, it's too goddamn much but I can't pretend anymore.

"I mean it," I promise, my rapid gasping quickly shifting from the aftershocks of laughter to a panic-induced hyperventilation. "Name your price. I can't make it up to you, but I'll damn well try."

"…Ambassador Evelyn," the chieftain eventually answers, "surely you must understand that this is... rather sudden. Anything?  You'll just give us anything? That's unbelievably, suspiciously generous."

"The phrase in my culture is 'too good to be true,'" I say. "Yeah, I get it. Nonetheless, just tell me what to do. As long as I don't have to hurt anyone. Please."

"And what if what we want from you is your death, demon?" Talrissark growls.

"Then snip my fucking head off," I tell him, showing my teeth in what can't possibly be interpreted as a friendly gesture to a Sthrenslian, "and I'll be back tomorrow with the same offer. If you want to kill me every damn day for a year, I will help you dispose of the bodies."

They don't get it. They can't get it. Ending the lives of their warriors has already killed me more than anything they could possibly accomplish.

"Uhh, Evelyn?" Hsthressis presses worryingly, but I block her thoughts from my mind and ignore her.

"What you say is not possible," the Chieftain insists.

"If you think I can't cheat death, then what's your daughter doing here?" I ask.

"Uh, Evelyn!" part of me squeaks again.

"Your giant fell," Talrissark hisses. "Your giant died. We feasted on its flesh."

"Yeah," I agree, hearts hammering in all of my chests.  I think I'm having a panic attack, but I keep talking anyway, my words descending more and more into a cultural lexicon that the only listeners can't possibly understand. Yet my mouth keeps babbling as realization after realization crashes into my mind. "You killed Evelyn Prime. You killed my only real loss condition, by proving I don't have one. Now I know there's no red flashing weak point that magically causes a cascading failure when you click on it. I'm just a fucking copy and I can control-V as often as I like. So you are going to get peace, War Leader Talrissark, because there is no conceivable way that you can fight me. Even if by some miracle I'm annihilated by a natural disaster I'll probably just wake up in another alien's brain, emulated like a goddamn copy of Panzer Dragoon Saga!"

I realize, belatedly, that I'm crying with every single body capable of doing so. ETEs are not among that number, but if I could break into a sob in the middle of the negotiations, I would. I feel like my sanity is dangling by a thread, and unless someone untangles it for me I'll end up hanging everything that's left of me.

"Chieftain Chlrehistra, please," I beg her.  "Please. Tell me how to help you before I hurt you all by accident again."

The silence that stretches through the room is only broken by the arrival of our food. To my surprise, a completely intact specimen of cave fungi is placed in front of me, as ordered.

"Thank you," I tell the server automatically, a welcome numbness descending on my mind slowly but surely. "Chieftain, is it okay if I just don't talk while I eat this?"

"...Certainly," she answers. "I think all of us need to take some time to calm down and think over a good meal."

"Sounds great," I mumble, and then submit myself to the ecstasy of consumption.