LT: 8.3 Respite (Patreon)

Respite 8.3

2005, July 7: Babylon, Ukraine

My lab was more or less as I’d left it. It was actually several facilities spliced into one so that I could better coordinate all my various “specializations.” A chemistry lab looked very different from a manufacturing hub after all.

The centerpiece was of course the Nexus, a colossal mana crystal engraved with runes that connected it to my soul, and from it, to the infinite reserve that was the World Rune. As my own integration of the World Rune grew, so too did the Nexus’ output. At this point, I was up to nine of twelve and was missing just Approach Velocity, Future’s Market, and First Strike.

From the Nexus led three mana channels that led to three separate facilities. One was dedicated to the production of basic potions: Health, Sump Tonics, Petricite Elixir, and in much smaller quantities, the Elixir of Sorcery.

The second channel powered a series of modules and charging stations dedicated to a small squad of Wrenchbots that maintained the lab’s production capabilities. The Custodian was great. With her power, she alone was sufficient for maintaining the cleanliness of all of Cauldron’s facilities spread out across multiple continents and worlds.

However, she was no tinker. And though my tech didn’t randomly “degrade” as tinkertech typically did, that didn’t mean hextech didn’t have its own wear and tear. My tech wasn’t unbreakable nor infinite just because the World Rune was. The Wrenchbots were great for general maintenance like that.

There was also a larger charging station for my Plaza Guardian, or Forest Guardian now I supposed, the one I’d built for the sole purpose of watching over the people who called Babylon home. The hextech mech was a bit of a prototype, a test to see how I could go about building bigger combat droids. Rather than a series of weapons modules, it was equipped with fire extinguishers, net launchers, chainsaw, gardening shears, and shovel, best suited for being the guardian and gardener of what was quickly becoming a fantasy forest.

Off in the corner of the second facility was a series of mechanical parts, pieces I’d only just begun to workshop. After the Forest Guardian, I’d wanted to build a Hextech Galio of my own, something I could ride into battle against Behemoth.

That never panned out of course. With the completion of the Mask, it was hard to consider a way in which my offensive potential could be improved. After all, what was more lethal than Death?

‘Nothing,’ Wolyo sneered in my mind. ‘You have enough weapons, child.’

‘You’re not wrong. Between Curtain Call, Isolde, and you two, I’m really not lacking firepower,’ I replied. Even against the Simurgh, the fault was with me, not my creations. I was too weak. I failed to withstand the backlash of becoming one of the Kindred.

‘So train,’ Farya said simply. ‘Train and grow strong, until we never have to leave you again. We are three now.’

‘I will. But that doesn’t mean there is nothing that can be gained by building more either.’

Unsealed Spellbook, one of the three keystones, granted me knowledge of what I once knew as “summoner spells” in my past life. The keystones also gave me an advanced knowledge of runes and matrices, enough to engrave those spells for others onto enchanted objects. I’d given my mother three rings containing Heal, Barrier, and Teleport, each keyed to activate at the first sign of danger.

There was no reason I couldn’t do something similar. In fact, I realized I hadn’t been using my runes correctly. I wasn’t a Champion with a hyper-specific skillset. Nor was I bound by the limitations of the game. I was the wielder of a World Rune in its entirety, the sum total of all innovations made across all of Runeterran history. I ought to be combining runes, focuses, and spells to get something truly unique.

Anivia’s Grace, my armor, was a good start. The White Walkers, boots that mimicked Sun Wukong’s cloud-stepping, were also an interesting use of Ghost. Curtain Call, Jhin’s sniper-coilgun hybrid fused with the Lucian’s relic pistol, was a solid ranged option.

But I could do more.

As I looked at what might have one day been a Hextech Galio mech, I considered all the different things I’d seen. It wasn’t as though League of Legends was the only game I’d ever played. Nor was I so uncreative that I could only make the weapons of Champions.

I had to finish my tour of Babylon, get an idea of what I was working with, but I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d made a breakthrough, if not in tech, then certainly in my perspective.

X

I looked at the third branch that led from my Nexus. It was supposed to be a biotinker’s lab. The potions lab was great for alchemy and chemistry, but it was hardly a medical bay. That was what the third branch was supposed to be.

I dialed up Fortuna. She picked up in moments, no doubt expecting me.  “Say, Fortuna?”

“Yes, Andy? How’s Babylon?” she replied, voice coy and teasing.

“Are you the one who installed generators to my biotinker lab?”

“Yes. There was a free connection lying around and you did say the Nexus is an unlimited source of energy that draws from your soul.”

“So you used one of my hextech capacitors.”

“So I used your hextech capacitors.”

I looked around. Hextech fundamentally transmuted mana into electricity. That was Heimerdinger’s great contribution to the City of Progress, a way to industrialize magic. Fortuna hadn’t actually built anything, but she had taken what I had lying around to harvest more energy from the Nexus.

“Dare I ask what you’re doing with all this power?”

“Nothing too bad. I’ve been using the generated power to supply the rest of Cauldron. Your generator requires less frequent maintenance and is far more efficient.”

“I hope you realize, you turned a coma patient into your battery,” I drawled. “You’re definitely evil, you know.”

She chuckled. “Was that ever in doubt?”

“Well, I’m going to need to reroute all of this for my own use eventually. Or maybe I can give the biotinker lab to Riley?”

“I’m sure she’d love that. Give me a week to set up alternatives?”

“Fine, will do. Anything else I should know?”

“About your lab? No. No further changes have been made.”

“‘My lab,’ you said. Not ‘Babylon’ as a whole,” I said, a question implied. I knew her well enough to be suspicious. “Dare I ask?”

She hummed cheerily. If there was a “Path to Conveying Shit-Eating Grin Through Phone Calls,” I knew she’d be running it. “That depends. How do you feel about godhood?”

“Excuse me?”

“Congratulations, you are worshiped as the primary aspect of a multi-faceted god by the immigrants of Babylon,” she said dryly.

“How? I thought that was a joke?!?!”

“We took on immigrants from other worlds if you’ll recall.”

“Yeah, so? They’re just here to gather petricite trees and whatnot.”

“They came from civilizations that had very little in the way of technological development. Though the exact century analog varies, many came from the Iron Age, medieval times at the latest.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I could see where she was going with this. “They were whisked away to a whole new world. And they saw that this land was converted into a magical forest with a facility that churns out magic potions and tech beyond their understanding.”

“Correct. Even before your slumber, they were under the impression that they were in service of some godlike sorcerer. The ‘witch-lord,’ I believe is the name they coined. Your introduction of the Forest Guardian and Wrenchbots didn’t help matters.”

“Fine. How bad is it?”

“Congratulations, you are the avatar of the turtle-god, the patron of smithing, alchemy, healing, farming, harvest, and all other forms of human production and progress. According to your burgeoning cult, you may also be engaged to the goddess of winter , the great Winter Eagle. Or fought a titanic battle that drove her away and ended in a treaty that made the seasons. There are several folk tales surrounding your summoning of Anivia by the way. Fascinating stuff,” she said, not even pretending to hide her amusement.

“How… That doesn’t even make sense,” I sputtered. “They’re not even unified domains. What do any of those have to do with turtles?”

“You use the turtle shell as your maker’s mark. You are Hyunmu, the Black Turtle of the North, are you not?”

“... I hate you sometimes… And the ‘god of the harvest’ thing?”

“Do you recall the Freljordian grain you used to make Graggy Ice?”

I let out yet another sigh. “You planted them here, didn’t you?”

“We did. They grow taller, stronger, and healthier while being hyper-resistant to the cold. They also provide a much better yield than the genetically unaltered crops the people were used to. I believe they still have a harvest festival in your honor.”

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“I disagree,” she replied glibly. “I think I’m having just the right amount of fun. Your budding cult has been a steady source of amusement over the years. Besides, having Riley tamper with the genetic makeup of the wheat is one of the most beneficial means of focusing her tinkering. So far, we are considering introducing the crop to Earth-Bet at large.”

“So Babylon is a microcosm for product testing purposes?”

“Precisely.”

“Still, a god? I’ve never even been out of the lab here.”

“You summoned a giant phoenix made of ice with a wingspan that spanned the breadth of the entire horizon.”

It hurt. Fortuna’s matter-of-fact words hurt like a spear of True Ice to the chest. I had done that ritual on the winter solstice so I could upgrade Winter’s Approach to Anivia’s Grace. The people of Babylon saw, and for once, they were right: Anivia was indeed a goddess. In a way, it could be taken as a literal divine sign.

That made me question everything I’d ever done. “Fortuna?”

“Yes, Yusung?”

“Am… Am I a god…?”

“Is that such a bad thing? You provide for them, however indirectly. We don’t even tax their grain. The ‘witch-lord’ is the single most benevolent feudal lord in history, capable of miracles their minds cannot comprehend.  Men throughout history have claimed as much for far lesser accomplishments.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should have a god complex.”

“So don’t develop one. Yusung, you are whoever you wish to be. The opinions of primitives should have no bearing on your sense of identity.”

“They’re not primitives,” I said weakly.

“They are in every way that matters. More importantly, my point stands: Their opinions should not color your self-perception.”

“I… Yeah, you’re right. It just caught me off guard. I guess I’ve been neglecting Babylon as a whole.”

“You have, though not through any fault of yours. I suggest you meet with Rinke when you have the time.”

“Why? Has he started worshiping me too?”

“No, but he does think rather highly of your magic forest. I believe he wanted to introduce several fantasy animals to ‘suit the aesthetic.’”

“Why would any of that sound like a good idea?” I asked.

“Because he may consider it whether you like it or not. If you speak with him now, you’ll be able to veto anything he is planning.”

“Must I? So long as he isn’t killing off the people here, I’m more or less okay with whatever.”

“Very well, I’ll pass that on.”

“Thanks, Fortuna.”

“You’re welcome.”

The line went dead and I was left contemplating the nature of godhood. Now that I had a minute, it was a little funny. I’d been a Christian in my past life. I wouldn’t ever dream of calling myself a god. And yet, here I was, deified without even noticing.

‘Is that such a problem?’ Farya’s melodic voice echoed in my mind. It still had that beautiful, haunting note that sent shivers down my spine. ‘It will not affect your actions.’

‘I guess not. It’s just unexpected, that’s all.’

‘You knew you would cease to be human. The Fox said as much.’

‘Yeah, but I didn’t think other people would treat me like this, and without ever meeting me.’

‘Even a mouse may cast a frightening shadow.’

‘Are you saying that it’s because they don’t know me that they can deify me?’

‘Indeed. This could be useful however.’

‘How so?’

‘Spirit gods are entities that gather strength in accordance with faith. Janna the Storm’s Fury. Ornn the Firebringer. Nagakabouros the Mother Serpent.’

I paused at that. Faith-based entities did exist on Runeterra. Janna specifically had lost much of her power until recently. Just because Anivia was there at the creation of the Freljord didn’t mean she wasn’t influenced by the faith of her people. Hell, even Valhir kept followers, his Ursine.

But that didn’t mean I was a god… did it?

‘Farya? Are the Kindred influenced by faith?’

‘Of course we are. The Fading Icon was forgotten,’ Wolyo answered with a snort.

‘And if we can cultivate faith in you…’

‘We can ensure we will never fade,’ Farya finished for me. ‘We can acquire more power. It is not a hardship to guide the lost to the other side.’

I didn’t like it. I didn’t feel that I’d done anything to be worthy of worship. I’d known immortality was something I’d have to struggle with, but deification?

That felt like a step too far. I didn’t think a mortal had any business claiming the mantle of a god. Even the Aspects were more vessels rather than true gods. Ascended? Sure, those were a thing, but all but Nasus went murderously insane.

But I couldn’t deny its usefulness either.

X

2005, July 7: Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

The largest salt flat in the world stretched out before me as far as the horizon. The salt and the shallow water reflected the sunset, dying the scene a mesmerizing array of oranges and yellows. The vista made me feel almost as if I was standing on nothing and the sky stretched out forever. Being able to claim the entire flat to myself, one of the greatest examples of nature in all its unspoiled beauty, was easily one of the better perks of being a Cauldron executive.

It felt good to be out here. The world had largely moved on from Hyunmu. Other things made the news cycle. People who weren’t in my direct social circle found different interests. The differences I made in the world were noted, but more in a “imagine what he could’ve done had he not met the Simurgh” sort of way.

Even my friends, the Phoenix Wards, weren’t Wards anymore. Hell, David and Penelope had a kid on the way! I may have been asleep for only three years, but Earth-Bet was a very different place than the one I knew.

In that sense, this plane of seemingly infinite white was my quiet place.

I danced with Isolde in hand, going through familiar motions in a strange body. I wasn’t that much taller, now five-four, stronger and faster too, but the more mature body was enough to throw me off ever so slightly. I hoped that by engaging in these familiar kata, I would be able to better accustom myself to this new body.

I started off slow, working from the ground up in every martial style I knew. Most of them began with footwork. They were basic, things taught to children and the greenest of acolytes, but they helped more than the advanced techniques at the moment. Simply moving from foot to foot, allowing myself to feel the way my muscles tensed and my center of gravity shifted, that was grounding in ways I couldn’t quite put to words.

I then began with the unarmed kata of the Shojin Monastery, Isolde shrunken until it looked like a large pair of gardening shears and clenched in one hand. Its blades and spikes let it double as a hybrid between a dagger and a brass knuckle.

I ran through the sequence again and again. My movements were more of a dance than a combat art at this stage. It wasn’t enough to approximate the right motions; I needed perfection, to know I was in full control of my body at every stage of the kata.

Then faster. And faster. Until I moved onto more complicated dances.

I’d been at this for hours, flowing from one form to another until I felt I could engage in the kind of high speed that defined an endbringer battle. Then I started to mix the sword forms of Master Yi, Isolde expanding to strike down imaginary foes. I only stopped when I saw a Door open behind me.

“Andy, dinner’s ready!” Riley said, barging right on through. I stamped down the wave of irritation at someone else entering my quiet place. It wasn’t as if I owned the salt flats here. “Woah, what is this place?”

“It’s the Salar de Uyuni,” I explained patiently, “a natural geological formation that forms when a lot of flat ground gets covered in a lot of salt water.”

“All this is salt? Cool!” And, like any other six year old, she promptly sank to her knees and picked up a mound. Without a care in the world, she stuck her hand in her mouth, and promptly spat it out with a look of disgust. “Blegh. Yup. That’s salt.”

I chuckled at her self-inflicted misfortune. Riley was adorable. She had a way of washing away any annoyance at her intrusion in my life. “That it is, Riley.”

“What were you doing?”

“Martial arts practice.”

“Ooh, so you can beat up all the bad guys?”

“No, so I don’t get beat up by all the bad guys,” I said, completely honestly.

“Huh? But I saw videos of you beating up Stage Crew. And you won all your spars against the Wards,” she said, open confusion on her young face. She started doing her best impression of a kung fu movie. “You were like ‘Haiyah!!!’”

I groaned internally. Of course she saw that. “Say, Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you think I was asleep for so long?”

“You did something that saved a lot of people. Mommy won’t let me see the video though,” she pouted. It made sense. I wouldn’t want a six year old seeing recordings of endbringer battles either. It also explained how she had such a skewed view of me.

“I don’t always win, Riley,” I said gently. “I got hurt. I got hurt fighting a very strong lady.”

“R-Really?”

“Yup. She was so strong that I wasn’t able to leave my bed for three years.”

“She’s scary…”

“Very.” On that, I could emphatically agree. Death Incarnate or not, World Rune or not, the Simurgh was fucking terrifying. I wasn’t sure how much was appropriate to say to a child, but I chose to lean towards honesty. I gently placed my hands on her shoulders. “That’s why I work very hard. Being a good tinker isn’t enough for me because one day, I’m going to face her again.”

“B-But what if you go to sleep for years again?” she asked, voice quivering with apprehension. I looked at her carefully. She had abandonment issues, because of course she did.

“I won’t,” I assured her even as I chastised myself for failing to account for the obvious. “I’m going to be even stronger next time.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

She gave me a resolute nod, as serious as a six year old could be, before we sealed the pact with a press of our thumbs. “You can’t leave.”

“Never. Now let’s go eat dinner, okay?”

“Okay… Andy?”

“Yes, Riley?”

“Can you teach me to do kung fu too?”

I laughed. “It’s Shojin kenpo. And yes, Riley.”

Speaking of, seeing how mom had enough mana to use the rings, she didn’t need her share of the Biscuits of Everlasting Will anymore.  Fortuna needed the Elixir of Sorcery to manipulate mana properly, but she was a grown woman.

What would happen if I drip-fed a young girl with the power of a World Rune? Would she develop a sizable mana pool by the time she hit her teens? If I taught her the magic martial arts of Ionia, would she be able to control that pool?

I was sure making Riley a magic biotinker would give more than one cape in the original timeline an aneurism, but it was worth considering, especially if I wanted to get into biotinkering with her.

The chembarons of Zaun had much to offer, as did the Black Rose of Noxus. Any project that stemmed from those nutjobs wouldn't be exactly PR-friendly, but Riley wasn’t an open cape. No one knew she triggered except Cauldron. And I had a lab on an entirely separate world for precisely this purpose.

I’d have to build appropriate containment and sterilization measures. And all this would naturally come after I’d instilled in Riley a thorough respect for bioethics and life as a whole, but it was certainly a promising thought.

Author’s Note

Don’t you just hate waking up one morning to find you’re in the plot of Road to El Dorado?

For real though, the Kindred are fascinating. Different cultures prefer one face of the Kindred over another. In Demacia, most think a swift death from the Lamb is better. In Bilgewater, the Lamb is seen as craven. Of course, the Kindred themselves don’t really give a damn, only that the individual does not cheat death.

Magical Girl Riley is a go! To be honest, I already had her cape name picked out: Nightingale, after the Angel of the Battlefield. It’s just a coincidence that it’s also a very magical girl-y name.

Animal fact: A songbird’s skeleton is lighter than its feathers. Yeah, most people know bird bones are hollow, but this threw me off too.

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