The Soul Engine Ch. 41 (Original Fantasy) (Patreon)

A/N: Welcome back to a new week of The Soul Engine!

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Standing in the middle of the white void, Mikael stares at the other two versions of himself. One is him as a child. Much younger, dressed in old clothes he remembered wearing once upon a time back on Earth, and looking frightened out of his mind by the circumstances. The other is him as he is now. Tall. Armored. Armed with a sword sheathed at his side.

Except… no. The second version of him isn’t really him as he is now at all. That Mikael looks older. More weathered. He even has the start of a beard. And… there’s no glow coming from his chest. It’s almost like he doesn’t have the Soul Engine or something. Did these represent the Mikaels of his past and future as he stood as the bridge between them in the present? Even that didn’t feel quite right, but it was as close as Mikael felt he could get to be honest.

“… What even is this test? Am I supposed to choose who I want to be or something? Or am I just supposed to accept you both and sing kumbaya or something?”

His younger self gives him an incredulous look. His older self just barks out a laugh.

“Choose? Accept? Don’t do anything. Just stand there and watch as I finally kill this twerp once and for all.”

With that, his older self suddenly has his sword in his hand, even though he didn’t have to draw it. He lunges across the whiteness, attempting to run his child self through. Mikael’s eyes widen, even as the child springs back with a scream, but not nearly quickly enough to-

CLANG!

Without even realizing it, Mikael is already moving to protect his past self. He suddenly has a sword in his hand as well, and he’s blocking the other armed version of him, their blades locked together as he grits his teeth. Glaring at him, the older version snarls before pulling away with a huff.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Straightening up, making sure he’s between the two versions of himself, Mikael holds his sword at the ready.

“Shouldn’t that be my question? Why would any part of me kill another part of me? Unless you’re going to try to claim that he’s not actually me or something.”

Spitting off to the side, the armored, grizzled Mikael lets out a bark of derisive laughter.

“Of course not. He’s us, no doubt about that. He’s our weakness. You want to survive in this world, Mikael? You don’t need him. You need ME. After all… at every turn, every challenge, every obstacle… it’s me who you’ve relied upon to survive. Not him. All he’s done is hold you back. All he’ll ever do is hold you back.”

Mikael’s eyes widen as he finally realizes who the older version of him REALLY is. He can’t believe it took him this long to realize. After a moment, he snarls. This time, it’s he who lunges forward, attempting to drive his sword right through the grizzled Mikael’s chest.

“You! How dare you wear that face! How dare you pretend to be me!”

The old soldier blocks, parries, and deflects every single one of Mikael’s frenzied strikes. He toys with him, really, as they trade blows there in the white void. Mikael just continues to pick up speed though, continues to put more and more strength into his sword work.

This isn’t him. It’s a fucking sham. This… amalgamation wearing some older looking version of his face is the memories that Zadicus fucking Quinn forced on him. Memories of war and battle. But also worse than that. Memories of murder and mayhem, of killing and pillaging. No wonder he was so eager to kill a child, even if it wasn’t a real child. Before him stood a monster wearing his face. Mikael wouldn’t fucking stand for it. He refused.

“Don’t be absurd. Pretend? I am you, Mikael. We are only the sum of our parts. Maybe I started out as the memories of a bunch of dead men, but I’ve become so much more than that. I’m your resolve. I’m your determination. I’m your KILLER FUCKING INSTINCT!”

Suddenly, the grizzled Mikael goes on the offensive and it’s all Mikael can do to keep up. His eyes widen as he’s forced to backpedal. It’s shocking, because for a while now he hasn’t fought anything or anyone nearly as strong as him. He’s even been able to put Bula in her place every single time they sparred. But this older version… he might have a point. He fights with a ferocity that feels far more natural than anything Mikael can muster.

Even still… even still.

“If the choice is between you or me, I choose me every time. If I have to kill one of you, I’ll kill you every goddamn time. I’d rather be whatever’s left once you’re gone, even if it means I can’t fight worth a damn anymore. Even if it means I’m fucking useless!”

He might have made use of the memories Zadicus forced on him. He might only have survived because of them. But Mikael would be damned if he would lose any more of himself to them. If they wanted to kill his past, to turn him into nothing more than a psychopathic killer just like them… he’d rather excise them from his skull completely. Even if it left him as an invalid with nothing but Swiss Cheese for a brain. He’d prefer that over becoming any more like them.

Slowly, he finds himself pushing back the other warrior. That overwhelming advantage seems to be shrinking by the moment for some reason. Indeed, the more grizzled version of his face twists into confused consternation.

“Why? All he does is make you weak? I’ve made you strong, haven’t I? Together, we’ve taken our revenge on Zadicus Quinn. For not just ourselves, but every man who’s memories he forced into our head!”

Mikael flinches. He’d never thought about that, really. Or he supposed he’d chosen not to think too hard about it. But… his opponent was right. He’d always hated the dead men in his head. They weren’t even real people; he knew as much. They were memories. Mere fragments designed to give him fighting instincts and make him worth more of a fight. They’d kept him alive just long enough against Thayla to entertain the audience before she’d killed him. That was their entire purpose.

… But they’d had to come from somewhere. Actual dead men, no doubt. Every single one of them was a warrior, soldier, or criminal that Zadicus Quinn had gotten his grubby hands upon at some point. The Lord of Alether had created quite the collection of fighting prowess, plucking snippets from his victims, from the actual natives who wound up in his arenas.

He’d used them to create an amalgamation that he could shove into the heads of each of his kidnapped heroes, in order to both keep them off-balance and unable to speak out about who they were and where they were from, but also to make them ever so slightly more entertaining before they died in his arenas. Then, after all was said and done, he’d come back around and pulled the fighting memories out of his victims’ heads before sending their bodies on to Foss Sangrey to be raised as undead soldiers in his army. But those like Mikael weren’t Zadicus’ only victims. There were also those other men, the ones these memories came from in the first place.

As though he’s reading his thoughts, the grizzled and older version of him nods along.

“We avenged them. Now we need to continue to work together, to avenge all of the others. Without me, you can’t defeat Foss Sangrey and his army. Without me, you can’t help Avina. You need me more than you need him. Admit it.”

They’re stalemating now in their fight. Neither giving ground before the other, but also neither able to overwhelm the other either. And yet…

“No. I need you both.”

The words feel right as they slip from Mikael’s mouth. But of course, the warrior version of him doesn’t seem to think so. He lets out another bark of derisive laughter, sneering as he shakes his head.

“Still so childish! Still so weak! We have to be stronger! We have to be ready for whatever that bastard Foss throws at us!”

Mikael doesn’t get angry through. He just nods his head in agreement.

“And we will be.”

Needless to say, that doesn’t go over well with his opponent. With a roar, the older version of him swings his blade down from above, even as Mikael brings his own up to block. Their arms strain as they lock swords once again, fighting with all their might to overpower the other. Well, his opponent is trying to overpower him. Mikael isn’t. Not anymore.

“And how do you see that working out, huh?! You aren’t even strong enough to beat ME!”

Smiling softly, Mikael chuckles.

“I don’t have to be.”

In an instant, his magic unfurls from his chest. Energy flows out of the Soul Engine, filling the white void with the teal light. Thick bands of power seize upon his other self, grabbing the man and lifting him into the air. Mikael disables him in moments, the sword in his grasp inconsequential now. As his opponent is pulled back, Mikael straightens up, only to feel an impact on his side as his child self runs forward and latches onto his leg.

Mikael gives the younger version of him a reassuring smile, before looking up at the older.

“I’m not going to kill either of you. Because… in the end, you’re right. You are me. Maybe once upon a time, you started as nothing more than fragments of those other men. But they were never really here. I was never really in danger of losing control of my body to dead men possessing me like some sort of sick collection of ghosts. No… you aren’t them. You’re the part of me that took hold of those memories and used them. You’re the part of me that was strong enough to do anything to survive.”

Ceasing his struggling, his more grizzled self scoffs.

“You claim to understand. But you still insist on holding onto your weakness.”

Mikael just rolls his eyes at that.

“Because it’s not weakness. Without him… there was no hope.”

“A foolish hope! It was his weakness that convinced you that you could get your memories back! It was his weakness that had you clinging to that idiotic desire to go home! If you’d stopped and thought for even a second, you would have realized from the beginning that Zadicus Quinn didn’t bother keeping our other memories! And you definitely would have figured out sooner that he was never going to let us go home, no matter what!”

Mikael clenches his jaw at that. Because… the other him has a point. In hindsight, expecting to be able to get his memories back and a way home from Zadicus Quinn had been a wild goose chase the entire fucking time. It was obvious from the lack of technological uplift and the way Zadicus used and tossed aside the people he summoned to Vaclatora that he hadn’t kept or even bothered studying the memories he’d taken from the thousands of Summoned Heroes he’d brought to this world before Mikael.

But…

“Even a false hope is better than no hope at all. It might have been foolish, but it kept us going just as much as the memories of battle helped us survive. It kept us sane. It kept us whole. And it wasn’t just hope either. It was love.”

Embarrassing, but if he couldn’t admit it here inside of his own personal mindscape within some sort of magical artifact, where could he admit it? Mikael… was in love. He might not have said it out loud to Avina, Thayla, or Bula… and they certainly hadn’t said it back to him. But he knew he loved Avina and Thayla at the very least, and he believed they loved him back. Bula was a bit iffier, but he certainly enjoyed her company… and he suspected she thoroughly enjoyed his company as well.

“Without my past, with just the memories of killing and fighting and worse… we never find love. We never find purpose. You said it yourself. It’s not just about stopping Foss Sangrey or getting revenge. It’s about helping Avina.”

That was what had led to the realization that this truly was another part of him in the end. As much as Mikael might have wanted to claim that the grizzled older self was just those dead men disguising themselves as him… he knew it wasn’t true. Because the warrior him loved Avina just as much as he did. He wanted to help her just as much as Mikael did.

Because in the end… they truly were one in the same. All three of them were parts of the same whole.

Slowly, Mikael releases his older self from the magical bonds, letting him set his boots back down on the ‘ground’ of the white void they find themselves standing in. Closing his eyes for a moment, the warrior lets out a low breath.

“You really believe that don’t you? You think you need both of us in order to keep Avina safe and stop Foss Sangrey.”

Mikael doesn’t even hesitate. He nods sharply, his jaw set.

“With all my heart.”

He was more than the sum of his parts now. He was more than his past experiences, be they his or someone else’s. What Zadicus Quinn had done to him… Mikael would bear the scars of that man for the rest of his life. But scars were not wounds. They were what came after the wounds healed. And Mikael refused to let his scars define him. He refused to let anyone, even himself, tell him who he could and could not be.

Finally opening his eyes, the grizzled version of him gives a simple, sort nod.

“I hope you’re right.”

Then, the warrior begins to fade. A tug on his side draws Mikael’s attention down to his child self who smiles up at him.

“I know you’re right.”

Even as he too begins to fade, Mikael looks around the whiteness. He finds himself thinking on who matters most to him in this new world. Who he loves. Who he wants to protect. Avina. Thayla. Bula.

… He steps out the other side of the magic mirror, finishing his stint in the Truth Above All. To his surprise, he finds the others all arrayed before him. Avina, Thayla, Bula, and Timothal. Avina and Bula had apparently finished before him, something that they waste no time making clear.

“Took you long enough, Mikael.”

“Hah! He gives even himself trouble in a fight!”

Mikael flushes at that, and then colors at Bula’s words in particular.

“Err… wait. You guys didn’t see everything that went on in there, did you?”

Because Thayla’s father had said that they didn’t see specifics… and it was one thing to have a heart to heart with yourself, but another entirely to know that everyone else had been watching.

Before Avina, Thayla, or Bula can answer, however, a grave and serious voice cuts through the humor of the moment, a blanket of intensity that Mikael is quickly becoming familiar with falling over the room.

“No. It is as I said, observers do not see details in the Truth Above All. Only the Truth. And now… now I have seen all of your Truths. I have seen who you are at the core of your very beings.”

His no-nonsense tone has Mikael tensing up as he turns to face the Knight-Superior, awaiting Timothal Dawnguard’s final verdict with no small amount of trepidation.

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A/N: Ah, the classic MC fighting himself in his own mindscape cliche. Hopefully I did a decent job of putting my own spin on it!

Tomorrow, we find out what Thayla's father thinks of her friends now that he's had a peek at the Truth of their very beings.

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