Godclads

Chapter 8-5 Anticipation

“This cannot be possible. We were not there. No one of the Order was there!”

“Then what about someone who wasn’t? Something else?”

“Don’t be absurd, only the Agnos–

“One who isn’t an Agnos anymore?”

“...”

“Do you remember one Kae Kusande? You loaned her out to us for Project Godshaper–shame about that mess. Let’s talk about her for a moment.”

“What makes you think I want to talk about her? After what you people did–”

“It was necessity. But Jaku, please. I’m not asking as a Mirror. I’m asking as your friend. This should concern all the Agnossi as a whole. Someone is closing rifts, and if the Compact of Neutrality is broken–”

“It is not!”

“I know. I trust you. But the mere suspicion of the thing will cause enough friction for there to be a forest fire. And I really don’t want to watch you burn.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. No! Jaku. Please don’t insult me like that. We both know my masters. We both know what comes next if they starting asking personally. Choose me. Choose me, and I’ll do everything I can to choose you.”

-Exchange between High Agnos Jakuta Ajayi and [REDACTED], Ori-Thaum Incubi

8-5

Anticipation

Hidden within wisping currents, Avo carried Draus and Kae back to the Second Fortune, a new Heaven burning within. The path he took was evasive; circling. A density of Exorcist Specters had filled the skies, lining each block across the Sovereignty with a scrying eye. He masked his travel using station loci as checkpoints and automated cargo carriers for cover. Such necessity stretched the duration of his travel, but laden with a burgeoning Soul, his pace was doomed to falter.

Several times, he was halted by climbing Rend or sweeping tides of perception cast down from on high. He stole pieces of memories from those around him using his Ghostjack and lined his thoughtstuff with said sequences to use as a facade.

All the while, he struggled against his focus, the world around him blurring between states of existence; reality was made ever more malleable with the second Soul flickering alight within. New subrealities brushed his ontology, greeting him in fleeting instants of gnosis, metaphysical concepts bleeding into the fabric of the world before him like fragile patterns, beckoning to be rewoven toward a more personal desire.

REPAIRING ONTOLOGY - 6%

It was nearing midnight when they finally managed to hop free from an automated Stormtree cargo carrier. Shielded by the locus, Avo jacked into the locus of the long wedge-shaped ship and directed its pathing to take a lane overhead Xin Yunsha.

Outside, the aero’s external feeds played the opening scenes of a Paladin-enforced lockdown. Block by block, ghosts were working through the districts, latching onto passing minds with their phantasmal forms.

The Second Fortune would not be exempt. But Draus seemed assured of Green River’s competence.

+River’s got somethin’ for this,+ the Regular said. +Just don’t rightly know how we’re supposed to move around after. Skies are gonna be checkpointed with real Necros running scout detail now. Syndicates are gonna be sinking down beneath the gutters for their business. Probably talkin’ Penumbra territory.+

The realm of the Low Masters. Of Walton and his alternates.

The winds billowed with strain and fury at the thought of his father’s nodes. What truths remained from his past? What promises were held sacred?

Avo could not say. But through the blessed shine of his expanding Ontology, he found a new certitude to being.

He had fasted long, devouring only that which he could, and that which the code allowed.

Now, his limits were broken. As was his faith. Yet, from the shards of his past personhood came power, true and rising, and with it, the choice to redefine the self.

In the past hours, he had rejected the beast, had ignored the Woundshaper, and had clashed with Draus. The refugees came to his mind again. Feeble. Weak. But with potential, brimming with sensations and emotions.

Something clicked in Avo’s mind.

Yes. He hungered still but was severed from death, starvation was but a passing concern. The meat of the meek and feeble were familiar tastes now. With his Heaven, he yearned to devour something nigh-formless, but long yearned for.

As his winds closed in on the Second Fortune, the face of the father flashed through his mind. Essus. Still a slave to Conflux perhaps, or even long dead. But should the chance arise, there was a taste he could give Avo. Something base and self-gratifying, but perversely just.

Mirrorhead was to die. Not because he would serve Ninth Column’s needs. Not because he was to start or avert another conflict between the Guilds. Not because he was a Syndicate head or his countless crimes.

He would die because Avo desired to feel what it was when the will of another Godclad came apart between his claws–to test the limits of immortality. And when there was nothing left of the man, once Avo supped himself swollen on desirable cruelty, he yearned to know how it felt to place a new choice in the hands of another; a choice absolute; a choice reinforced by power.

“Be you trying to emulate the shadow of a man you call father, master?” the Woundshaper asked. “Or be this an insult instead? That you can make a greater savior than he ever could? A rebellion of… symbology?” She laughed. “How childishly divine. Can you imagine what fury you might inspire: the ghoul-god, to be the maker of gods.”

For the Heaven of Blood, Avo held no answers. He didn’t truly understand himself. But he had a desire, and so, the beast must feed.

+Draus,+ Avo said, +Have a question for Kae.+

+Shoot.+

+How does a Liminal Frame get installed? Need details.+

+...What’re you gettin’ at?+

Over empty streets populated by lonesome drones and flashing advertisements, he rushed toward the Second Fortune.

+I want to make a god out of a slave.+

***

REPAIRING ONTOLOGY - 8%

“Well, Jelene, when you said you would take our pet monster out for a walk, I must confess I didn’t expect the sky to fall shortly thereafter,” Green River said.

Draus breathed out through her nose, arms folded, posture slouched. “Ain’t much of me lettin’ anythin’ happen. He decided; I had to deal.”

There were few things Avo liked about Green River, but to say the Sang was without virtue would be a bitter falsehood at best. She took the coming of the Exorcists and Paladins with the grace of an elderly matron shutting the windows in anticipation of heavy rain.

As they entered their room, Avo detected a constellation of a hundred and eight micro-loci festooned at various places in their room.

“A multi-lobby facade,” she said, offering a courteous nod. Only the braying snarls coming from her fox betrayed the emotions that simmered inside her. “For deception’s sake.”

“What is that garish creature on her shoulder?” his Woundshaper sneered. “What twisted parody of a hound lays draped upon her? Little wonder your antipathy: she has no sense. What rightful master of mead would allow a mongrel onto their establishment, let alone their person? A disgrace. Spill her blood, master. Let it be put to better use in our hands.”

He understood the design. One locus was easy to dig through. A cluster capable of shuttling memories through sessions by the second was far superior.

Gathered again around the swirling logo of the holo-vision, the four of them sat as Green River chuckled softly to herself, the softness of her voice growing louder and louder until it became peals of disbelief.

“A trip to clear his head,” Green River said, rubbing tears from her eyes. Along her shoulder, the fox seethed, looking as if it was moments away from foaming. Mastering herself, she wiped the wetness away on her qi-pao, the stain sapped away by the floral decals painted upon the gown. She looked at Avo with a bemused glare. “Is your head clear now? Do you have control of your senses?”

“Know what I want,” he replied.

She closed her eyes, and at that moment, he felt a trickle–the merest trickle–of her frustration.

Good to know that their loathing was mutual.

“The Paladins and Exorcists will be conducting mass thougthscans soon,” she said. With a thought, she activated their holo-vision and let scenes play from a variety of streams. “Headline news. Four-hundred thousand nulled and rising. A laced Crucible to blame. An unidentified Fallwalker working to spark a gutter war. You’ve woven quite a tale from this one little… excursion.”

She shot another look at Draus. The Regular caught the look and channeled it into a glare directed toward Avo. He ignored her.

Kae coughed. “We… we also managed to close a Fallen Heaven.”

The Sang tilted her head. “So you did,” she began. The fox’s right eye twitched. “With… just the three of you.”

“Mostly me,” Avo said. “Kae helped. Draus existed.”

Draus scoffed a laugh. It was the type you got from someone about to hit you. “You remember sayin’ that when I break your arms later, rotlick.”

Taking a breath, Green River turned her gaze on Avo again. The fox frowned. “Are you beginning to understand the worth of that which lurks within you?”

The Woundshaper grumbled with indignance. “She avoids attributing rightful tribute to you master. She separates a god from its domain. Ask her: when she strains to release filth from her body what part of her should the credit be granted to? The hand or the bottom?”

“One month,” Avo said, leaping over her words in reply. Her face slipped into blankness. Doubtless, she was trying to herd him, to drive him from remembering that he could free her from the last of her chains, or so the node said. “Need to do as I ask.”

“Within reason,” she replied, tone blank.

Despite what he felt for her, it was understandable. The difference between an order of suicide and a murder was a matter of semantics at best. But something about the affair felt ill upon him. Like it ground against his nature.

“Don’t like it,” Avo said.

“What do you dislike?” she asked.

“Kept you as a slave,” Avo said. A low growl came free from his voice. “Walton wouldn’t… but he’s dead. I keep forgetting.” He studied her for a moment. “River. Have a question?”

One of her fingers twitched. The fox went still, body tense as if waiting for an attack. “Please, ask.”

“What would you do if I made you a Godclad.”

The following silence fell with the weight of a toppling column. Draus’ heart sped up. Kae’s eyes widened.

“Avo! I-I said I… we don’t know if your Meta-Fac–”

“Kill my sisters,” Green River said. The words shot out of her as if she would never get another chance to say them. She looked down and away. “For revenge. It is not… special.” She laughed, embarrassed at the banality of her desire. “But it is a want all the same. You understand.”

“No,” Avo said. He didn’t know if she was lying. But ultimately, it didn’t matter. He wanted to hear what she would do with choice, and to lie was as acceptable as any other. “No, I don’t. Not like you. But would like to. Someday. Would like to.”

The Sang flicked her eyes over to Draus. The Regular shrugged. “Don’t give that look. He’s been on this shit since he ghouled-out down in the gutters.”

“You,” Avo said, asking her now. “Frame?”

Draus shrugged. Her indifference surprised him. “Hells, Avo. I ain’t a complicated gal. I’ll probably be doin’ the same thing. ‘Cept the gangers and Syndicates might stay broken after I work ‘em using a Heaven.” She laughed. “Would like one of them Force Domains. Keep it simple. Burn shit. Break shit. Butcher shit. Dead half-strands. Safe Warrens. Happy Reg.”

He turned to look at Kae. Her expression paled. “I… I… I can be whole again, maybe.”

The Woundshaper scoffed. “Hmph. Leave it to a cripple to yearn for a mere memory of what once was than the dawn that mounts the horizon.”

“Our dreams are colored by personhood,” Avo replied internally.

“Their dreams perhaps. Stay a god a little while longer, master. You will learn what it means to be more… elemental. Leave these paltry desires borne of a single vessel aside, for ours is to shape the nature of all that is.”

“We’re… we’re going to need to see… see what’s happening with your Souls once the… the repairs are completed,” she said. “This… I… this has never happened before… two Souls shouldn’t inhabit one being…”

Another silence followed. The fox sneezed.

Green River shook herself from the stupor inflicted by his question. “Alas, we must speak toward matters of the future. The Column. They wish to meet you. Are coming to meet you, as you have been so tardy in your assent to meet them.”

Avo flexed his claws. “Are they.”

“It is to be an expression of goodwill,” she replied. “I explained that–”

“Won’t be their dog,” Avo said, cutting her off. “Frame stays mine. Mine.”

“That is precisely a matter they wish to discuss,” she finished. “They want to strike an… accord.”

“Accord?”

“They feared you to be an instrument of Walto–his alternates. No matter. After your actions in the gutters, they have now deemed you to be… independent.”

Draus chuckled darkly. “Shit, Avo. Maybe you should kill a couple hundred thousand more FATED. Get yourself sent a placard or somethin’.”

Kae winced at the viciousness of Draus’ statement. It suddenly occurred to him how little she fit in this room of liars, monsters, and killers.

“Who’s coming,” he asked.

“I do not know,” Green River replied. “They do wish to speak of our ‘Mirrorhead’ problem. And what to do with your father’s alternates.”

“When.”

“Soon.”

“What useful information.”

“Their communicative skills could use some work; I agree.”

Avo sighed. He wanted to avoid them for a while longer. “The interview. The Ori-Thaum traitor. She ready for a dive?”

“Tomorrow,” Green River said. “They are… undergoing some changes as of right now. A transfer of documentation, so to speak.”

He understood. Running away in New Vultun meant everything needed to be severed to the root. Too many eyes, too many memories. The easiest way to disappear is to be given the identity of someone dead, but not listed so. It was always easier to obfuscate than it was to create.

A related want echoed in Avo’s mind. He had been yearning for another grafter ever since his first implant. With his Heavens, the strain on his body was blunted, but not relieved, and considering his distrust of Green River, he spent much of his time avoiding her establishments.

He had scried her local grafter a few times. A Scaarthian matriarch. One seemingly untouched by her own craft. She seemed to only conduct grafts part-time, spending the rest as a maker of novel bioforms for gangers, enforcers, or the circuits as a whole.

“Your grafter,” Avo asked. “Does she have anything good?”

Green River smiled. “Does she possess anything usable for one of your nature, you mean?”

Avo growled. Back to old habits. “Answer.”

“Come, then. Best you see for ourselves. Far be it for me to shop for another.”