17-16 A Moment Most Feared (II) (Patreon)

Shotin Kazahara: No.

Kare Kitzuhada: I’ve already taken my oaths, uncle. I’m not requesting permission, I’m informing you that I’m done. I’m a Paladin in training now.

Shotin Kazahara: [Sigh] No. Reject the offer. I’ll finish up my assignments and we’ll talk.

Kare Kitzuhada: There’s nothing to talk about–

Shotin Kazahara: Kare, I don’t want to argue–

Kare Kitzuhada: You’re not listening to me–

Shotin Kazahara: No, I’m ignoring your words because they don’t make any sense to me. Why? Why are you so determined to be a Paladin? You deserve better–you are better. With your skills and temperament.

Kare Kitzuhada: I can what? Serve the overclan? Serve our Guild? Or one of our allies? Or go turncoat? It’s all the same thing, Uncle Sho, can’t you see? This is the only choice that can matter. This is the only choice that lives up to the dream–that gives this city a future.

Shotin Kazahara: A future? A future? The Paladins. [Incredulous laugh] Kare, my dear, sweet girl, the Paladins are less an organization and more a skin tag that the High Seraph refused to cut off at the end of the second war. Probably because she used to fuck the chief.

Kare Kitzuhada: Chief Naeko? Him and the High Seraph used to… uh…

Shotin Kazahara: Yeah, “groin-buddies of the pre-rash variety.” Of course, Samir used to be one hard sonuvabitch back in the day. Literally. Do you know the legends, right? How he managed to break out of one of the last breeding farms and link up with Ashthrone during the Fall? How he ended up slaughtering his way from the Plains, to the island chain of Ao, to the heartland of the Skuldvast itself, butchering priests and nobles while freeing slaves?

Kare Kitzuhada: Well, yes, I’ve even immersed myself in a few of Chief Naeko’s vicarities–

Shotin Kazahara: You know what he did to the ones he captured, yeah? The slave breeders? The families of the former faithful? Oh, our consang Samir is limp and castrated now, but boy did his hand inspire some foul work. Foul enough to please old Thousandhand herself. Foul enough to catch even Veylis’ eye for a time.

Kare Kitzuhada: …He regrets those days. He never hid that.

Shotin Kazahara: Yeah. Sure. Regret. Glad he’s evolved so much as a man. He and the rest of Jaus’ war dogs. Kare, the Paladins were a joke then, and they are a joke now. The only thing that’s changed is why they’re funny. Before, they were Avandaer’s fist–an outfit dedicated to shattering the last remnants of the old world no matter the atrocities damned or the consequences that followed. Now, they’re a maimed insult. Too crippled to live up to their ideals, but too deluded to dissolve and die–

Kare Kitzuhada: Alright, then. What–what would you have me do? Join Ori-Thaum? Be an Incubi–

Shotin Kazahara: Fuck no. That’s misery detail. I’ll have you working with me. Me, or Kaltain, or Moz.

Kare Kitzuhada: Right. Snatching minds and slitting throats in the dark between guest appearances on prime-time streams to promote whatever the party line is these days. C-can you even tell me what you’re doing now? If the person you’re hurting deserves it.

Shotin Kazahara: We’re doing this for the good of the Guild and our people. Both our citizens and subjects deserve better than to suffer under corrupt officials and constant war. Battling the rot is constant work but noble work. You’ll find no juster cause anywhere on Idheim.

Kare Kitzuhada: But there’s nothing just about our cause! We’re still separating people between humans and livestock.

Shotin Kazahara: These sacrifices will be worth it–

Kare Kitzuhada: No! No, they won’t! You know they won’t! You’ve fought the wars–more of them died to fuel our industries than as collateral damage! What’s going to change in the future? What is a single bit of affirmative action that has been provided to them since the end of the Fourth Guild War? What has your service, mom’s life, dad’s life amounted to? Nothing! Nothing at all! More propaganda! More slogans! More junk entertainment outputted of a victory that isn’t coming! Because we’re in a stalemate. Forever! All the death and bloodshed rushing down the Tiers into Warrens to spill into the Maw before vanishing. Like it never happened at all.

Shotin Kazahara: …You know she wouldn’t have wanted this for you.

Kare Kitzuhada: What? What? S-screw you! Don’t use her against me like that.

Shotin Kazahara: I’m not using her–

Kare Kitzuhada: Yes, you are! Yes, you are! You are using the memory of my mother against me. You always do this! When you can’t beat me down with your whining and complaints and constant degrading of my beliefs–

Shotin Kazahara: –Kare–

Kare Kitzuhada: –You always turn to the last thing you know that is certain to hurt me. Pull the wound open and press. It’s always the Paladins’ fault. It’s always them. Highflame just does what they do. You had to follow orders. Ori-Thaum had to sacrifice that district to buy time. None of you have any choice. But the Paladins have to be the only adults in the room with none of the authority! So FUCK THEM am I right?

Shotin Kazahara: Look. I’m sorry. This topic isn’t easy for me–

Kare Kitzuhada: And it is for me? I don’t–don’t… I‘m not doing this. Don’t contact me again. I need to–don’t come find me. If our shared blood means anything, you stay away. Don’t call me. Don’t call me.

Shotin Kazahara: Kare, wait–

[SESSION DISCONNECTED; SESSION BLOCKED]

Shotin Kazahara: Kare? Kare? Godsdammit! Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! …Great job, Shotin. Great fucking job.

-Transcribed argument between Shotin Kazahara and his niece Kare Kitzuhada (Memories provided by a member of Clan D’Rongo)

17-16

A Moment Most Feared (II)

People feared exploding babies. Chambers wasn’t sure why.

Babies were pretty lame if you thought about them. They were like the shittiest version of people possible. Short ass limbs, big ass heads, always screaming, pissing, and shitting themselves. Hells, even the ghouls didn’t really go after them that much during the Uprising. Why get a sausage when you could have the whole pig, right? Adults had a lot more meat on them.

Still, the psychological advantage of forcibly pushing countless half-grown, screaming homunculi from the burning sores laying your Heaven was one that couldn’t be denied.

The Straying Tempest charged but recoiled before the Paladin could hit him–fear or disgust halting her path.

Pft. Weakness. Chambers was not chained by such social niceties.

Babies dead and dying erupted out from his Lushburner as his bird-self cawed in outrage. Its flames licked at reality, bioforms exploding out from him in waves of flesh, forming a dichotomous layer of assault and defense. His bio-crafted drones surged out to meet the Paladin while he adjusted his chainmail of homunculi.

He needed to force his ontology to shit out more infants while his foe was unbalanced–to strike them where they were weakest: their sensibilities.

Webs of lightning spread out from where legs speared into the fabric of existence, and a good portion of his assaulting assets vanished between the cracks. A most impressive miracle. Maybe it would look better on him…

REND CAPACITY [LUSHBURNER]: 47%

He formed even more bioforms this time, sending them out as a falling storm of screaming chitin and writhing flesh. But instead of charging in behind them, he spread them out like a screen and covered his approach as he flanked.

Chambers snickered even as the first cracks of lightning punched holes through his offensive. Stupid glasser bitch. She didn’t know drones were expendable. All he needed was to get around, and soon he would be detonating tons of dead baby meat on her ass–

The environment around him choked. The temperature plummeted and he felt his swarm begin to rapidly die. A force rattled against his Heaven of Fire as a glowing brightness began to build through the cracks of his attacking bioforms. Flashes spread through each of his creatures, and those touched by the unnatural light fell limp and dead, shattering against each other as if they were frozen solid.

Then came the explosion.

The blast wasn’t a large one. Not even for by the standards of a Syndicate-directed inter-sovereignty kinetic missile. What it was, though, was hot. Damn hot. Like, impossibly hot. Hotter than the heat vents of a Layer hot.

At the epicenter of this heat was the Staying Tempest. The body of the spider was no longer solid. Instead, it flowed like fluid magma, each part thick and molten, volcanic essence mingling into the thunderbolts that comprised its legs as dots of piercing red dotted its countless eyes. A fiery aura lit the world around the enemy Heaven as Chamber angled his Lushburner in for a charge.

He ignored the sphere of brilliant light manifesting around him and his enemy–ignored everything other than growing more bioforms and homunculi to create the biggest bang possible.

When this was done, they’d see who burned hotter.

***

REND CAPACITY [WOUNDSHAPER]: 97%
VENT! VENT! VENT!

REND CAPACITY [ZEPHYR OF THE NINE PATHS]: 89%

REND CAPACITY [DATACASTER]: 86%

The Straying Tempest’s flames almost triggered a thaumic backlash in Zephyr’s Yondergale canon before Avo quarantined the temperature spike using his Domain of Luminosity. He was about to slip over into the upper section of Layer One, and just in time as well. His Rend was high across the board. One mistake and his existence would conclude in an instant. Sequenced with aspects of Corner’s personality though, he felt more alive than ever, the thrill of a final death keeping his mind sharp and actions resolute.

In half a second, he would release all the portals he was plugging up top and kill his Sanguinity. Dice and Kae were cocooned in a shell of blood. The nu-kitten had to be separated from them and hidden somewhere in the gutters before their resurrection cleanse. If it were up to Avo, he would have abandoned the creature–or eaten it. But the wait wanted to keep it, and what kind of benefactor would he be if he couldn’t grant such a little wish?

[The kindest, noblest subhuman cannibal, everybody,] Abrel muttered sardonically.

Paladin Kassamon gagged. [I can’t believe I’m feeling someone imagine what it’s like to eat a nu-cat.]

Lightning and fire splashed against his prison of light while Chambers and the Paladin fought on. The latter was inexperienced and unnerved, the hesitation in their actions and reluctance to make contact with more homunculi the primary reason Chambers still had any momentum at all.

Besides that, however, he was getting chipped apart.

Bolts charged with stinging flame cleaved into the half-strand’s Lushburner, blasting parts of flesh, wood, and fire free from the manifestation. Their lightning canon–if that was what it was–worked differently than Avo’s Boltstride. From what he observed, it was a miracle directed toward capturing instead of killing.

Made sense for who she was. Told him plenty of what she thought to be important. It also let her take Chambers apart piece by piece, letting the fool cut himself upon her net.

There was the critical flaw Avo left in the man showing itself again, the root of his mistake in the Burner’s Way run, the shadow that followed him his entire life.

Impulse. Chambers chased impulse. Was a slave to it still. Being a Godclad might’ve spurred some changes, but he was like a dog dragged behind an aero instead of will unleashed. He chased power and carved respect but sourced these things from others.

Unsurprising how he even fought the same way.

He attacked, relentlessly, with nothing held back, but still let her dictate the terms of the engagement, still let himself be led and brutalized. Like a dog.

[Jaus, consang, i-is that how you see me…] template-Chambers’ mind was as sour as it had ever been. He studied himself through Avo’s senses and he flinched each time his Lushburner took a hit. [I was… I did all this because I thought–the Rash worked! It killed that Shotin fucker.]

That was true. Whatever other faults Chambers had, they would probably be dead now if the homunculi hadn’t ruptured free from the Seeker’s skull. Of course, if they managed to assemble into a proper cadre and engage Shotin as a solid unit instead of skirmishing against him as separate entities, who knows what might have happened?

Mistakes to be rectified. Room to grow.

[You can change me, y’know,] Chambers laughed weakly, feeling the Paladin cleave into his real self once more. [Make me better.]

A genuine pity–long fed by exposure and experiences alongside Chambers–blossomed inside Avo for the man. It wasn’t a thing of sadness but philosophy. But belief. Here he was wishing to take in other minds and become. And here Chambers followed, willing to debase and betray any aspect of himself to be what someone else would love and want him to be.

Their roads were inverted, and paradoxically, what Chambers sought would remain beyond him until he stopped being himself. For what respect could Avo have for someone who regards his agency so little?

{Respect… that he’s still alive…} Calvino said, presence and voice lighter than ever before. {Respect how hard life was and is for him… respect him for only being slightly insane.} The EGI laughed. {He really shouldn’t have done that… The people here… a lot of them aren’t you… they’re going to die. But he’s fixated on the only pleasures and powers he knows…}

+So what? I should just accept? Accept his impulses?+

{You want to be more? Then… show him. Show him what “becoming” means. Don’t just… hoard. Kindle… hope. Set his… humanity free.}

Calvino’s words settled in the back of Avo’s mind as his Zephyr slipped through Layer One and released his haemokinesis. He hoped Draus was in the tunnels he made as they planned. He hoped that none of the Paladins or Shotin were capable of tracking him so fast.

Turning his attention to monitoring the fight between Chambers and the final Paladin, he re-entered Nether-stable space and quelled his Crown as well.

Soon, a new presence would grace his mind. A new perspective toward greater understanding.

Guilt swelled inside Paladin’s Kassamon’s template. [Shit… I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.] And to think that his actual self was still topside–probably resurrected by now–and completely ignorant of his part in the betrayal. What delicious subterfuge. [You’re a fucking monster.] Poor little Kassamon. How could the truth hurt Avo? Perhaps this new one would be wiser. [Oh, gods.]

Watching and waiting as she tore into Chambers, shredding his Lushburner apart piece by piece, drinking his flames in before he could use them to grow more bioforms, the opportunity came as her confidence grew. She was growing closer, unaware of her coming fate.

Kassamon struggled. Avo let him. The template raged against empty space, screaming, and striking at nothingness. [Get away! Don’t come any closer! Get away!] He turned his focus on Avo again. [You promised you’d just burn her! You promised.]

Avo ignored the template and demanifested his Zephyr. The paths vanished as all the tunnels collapsed over each other, the debris collected from the ambush spilling out into the inner mechanisms of the Layer as the cocoon holding Kae and Dice struck structural support.

Abandoning his own body for an instant, Avo triggered his session and poured his consciousness over into Chambers’. As his awareness reloaded, he found himself on the cusp of defeat and execution, the half-strand’s minds too drenched in thrill and desperation to notice as the Tempest’s limbs lashed through the air, a falling storm seeking to tear its hated adversary from this mortal coil.

REND CAPACITY [LUSHBURNER]: 88%

***

Kare’s left leg cleaved through the stretching distance between her and the Lushburner as the plane around her vanished. The temperature of her surroundings swelled as the oppressive glow of heat vents and sparking generators loomed around her. Structure supports and various rusted mechanisms blurred along her peripheral vision, but she found herself too engrossed to care.

There was barely anything left of her foe. He attacked her head-on–reckless and savage, but showing no skill. After her initial unbalance, she steeled herself and fought. And found herself winning.

Winning despite being alone.

She let him break himself on her fissures first. Then, she set about cutting him down to size.

Now, only the head of the phoenix remained, the rest of its manifestation worn away and not given time for restoration. She learned to steal its fire to prevent the coming swarms, but still, the homunculi spilled. They were increasingly bleeding from her sores as well, though she fried them using her electricity when she had the chance.

As her final blow hewed into the ontology of her foe, she noticed something flicker and change in the flames.

That was when victory was snatched from her very jaws.

The impenetrable radiance–the kind that vanished with the demiplane–shone into being around the Lushburner. Her blow splashed uselessly against the shielding. Acting on instinct, Kare shifted her attack to something indirect, seeking to drain what remained of its flames.

Little did she expect another kind of fire spear out, seeking her mind instead.

A faint screaming emanated in the Nether as the burning wisps shot out to claim her. Faintly, she heard echoes of someone screaming for her to run.

Too late.

She made the mistake of attempting to catch the flames with her Heaven, only to find they weren’t of the natural world, unbeholden to her Domain. The first tendril struck her ward and she expected to feel a rattle.

Instead, all her ghosts ignited at once, and her protections disappeared beneath a vast wall of cascading conflagration. Through the miasma of fire and chaos, she saw vague contours formed by the flickering inferno. Her senses melted into each other as she felt her grip on her body and Heaven fade.

In this place of disorder, she found the world rebuilding around her as ghosts tore through her, pulling aspects of her memory out against her will, each pass whittling at her consciousness.  The faces and places around her spun and splashed as he felt herself lost and cast into confusion, mind drawn deeper and deeper into a maelstrom.

Then, as sudden as the madness began, it ended.

Her eyes were hers again. Her senses, body, and mind. But her Heaven… she couldn’t call it. She couldn’t feel it. And most disturbing of all, she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

No. She was in her childhood bedroom. During… During the war. The night her uncle called her to tell her about her mother…

More mem-data settled around her as the scene loaded with impossible precision. Kare Kitzuhada beheld herself as a child, hugging her pet nu-dog and on the verge of tears she listened to Uncle Shotin break and just weep. He couldn’t speak by the end. He couldn’t speak.

“Niece,” a sibilant voice rumbled with excitement from behind her. Kare flinched and spun, lashing out with her hand. No lightning leaped out. No Heaven protected her from the creature that stood before it. “What a find. Fortune after misfortune.”

Monstrous laughter followed.

A pale thing of nightmare stood before it, its limbs unnaturally only, its back laced with transplanted limbs and bit and chittered at the air. There was a fluidity that danced across its flesh, coating its shell in smooth, polished armor. But it was the look in its eyes that infused her guts with mind-hollowing fear, and the flames rising from its halo–smoldering high into the ceiling and spilling over into the ghosts and phantoms that formed this place.

Was this… a vicarity? A memory simulation?

Had she been trapped in her own mind?

“No,” it said, chuckling softly. “Not just yours anymore. Ours.”

“What?” she whispered. “Who–who are you?”

That question made it pause. It contemplated its response for a moment as its fangs spread wide, running from ear to ear as it offered a twisted parody of a smile. “The one who is going to burn this city, I suppose. But just want to practice understanding right now… Learn about you?”

It took a step forward and she instinctively put herself between the creature and her younger self. An inquisitive tilt of its head came thereafter.

“Stay away,” Kare said, shifting into a guarded stance. She wasn’t that well versed in unarmed combative, but her uncle showed her enough. This thing was still shaped like a person–joints spine, bones… those were all there. She could exploit that. And if it had arteries, she could bring it down by severing the oxygen.

“So much history between you too,” it said, almost unable to contain its happiness. “Came just for him… Became mine just because you were worried about his safety.” The monster clicked its teeth together. “He will be touched when I add him to us.”

“What do you want?” she said, forcing strength into her voice. “What are you even talking about.”

It stared at her and lowered its head. “I told you… Understanding.”