Godclads

Chapter 9-1 Fear and Zein in the Second Fortune

To become a Glaive of the pre-Fall Ori Communality, one must achieve feats of mental and physical agility of near post-humanity in a time when most viewed even a simple gunpowder weapon as an arcane object.

Many walked the Path of the Dreaming Willows. Many failed. Few ever returned with their Dream-Forged Glaives. Sorrowful; a true pity.

A pity that they weren’t me. Frankly, I don’t understand what was so hard about the trial. The adversaries we faced were our worst nightmares? Pathetic. Just stop fearing things. That simple. Accept. Accept and kill. Kill the terrors.

Children, if you are reading this, ignore neuro-mods and therapy. Such is a thing for cowards and those subhumans who cuckold themselves of glory’s touch.

If you fear a monster hiding under your bed–and you very well might be right to–you should gather the following items:

1. Blades. Frequency blades. A spear. A sword. A knife. Three ranges. If you need something blunt, use your fists. You have no excuse not being augmented; if you are poor, steal them. Do what you must to survive.

2. Guns. You want as many kinds of guns as possible beforehand. Anti-Armor. Infantry. From here, understand what you are fighting and bring a primary firearm, a reserve firearm, an implanted firearm, a secondary firearm, and a gun for amusement should you lose your target scuttling into the woods and you find yourself in a life-or-death hunt-chase with a new mortal adversary.

3. Suicide bomb. I strongly recommend suicide bombs. Not just for Godclads. Not all fights can be victories–though all of mine were–but you should make sure that, at the very least, everyone loses. Suicide bombs are easy. They can be made out of aerovec engines in an afternoon and wired to a mental trigger via ghosts. I will not waste your time telling you how.

Regardless, if there is one thing that I might impart to the children it is this: It is better to explode yourself using an unstable fusion reactor than it is to have your flesh assimilated by skin mimics. Don’t push that responsibility onto them. Be reasonable. Do the right thing.

-Zein Thousandhand, Memoirs of Most the Killings I Can Recall off the Top of my Head, Chapter I, Page 1

9-1

Fear and Zein in the Second Fortune

Nova. Bliss. Joy. Bloom. Dust. Zoom-Twelve. Yogfeth. Numb. Se1-sure. Suncloud.

Ten drugs.

Ten drugs banned by the Great Eight. Ten drugs so potent each could cripple a baseliner. Ten drugs, with some mandating specific biomodifications for the body to even survive ingestion.

Ten drugs that Zein took all at the same time. In full view of countless horrified onlookers of the casino main hall.

The ground floor of the Second Fortune was crowded enough as it was. With the Exorcists still sweeping through the district– now concentrating their efforts on the null blast that rippled out from Ox-3–most people turned to leisure to pass the time.

Beneath massive entertainment holos broadcasting the newest streams, gamblers gathered around gaming pits to burn time. Dueling pens for teams of bio-augmented crickets occupied the northern quarter of the casino floor, with hundred cheering and jeering as if beholding a circuit.

Above them did play circuit highlights, holos of recaps from the local bloodsport, with in-depth odds provided for the more well-known fighters to pass through. Contact details of their Metas flashed, snarling fighters looking for sponsors to take their bloodletting up the Layers, and hopefully, into the Tiers.

Card tables dotted the walls around them while Zein ping ponged between various slot machines down the middle of the room. Casting her imps at random, never hitting the same slot system twice, holoprojected nu-bears dancing upon the heads of snarling tigers flashed out from the slots as a jingling tune began. By melody’s end, most the bears tumbled and found their censored demise at the hands of the tigers.

For the slots that Zein cast into, however, every bear managed to leap upon a passing cloud, fortune bringing them to a heavenly palace carved from gold.

It didn’t take long for the Sang to send someone to check just how they were losing that much money. A wandering nu-dog came, wheezing. It stood a stocky seven feet and was dressed in robes denoting the Sang characters for fortune, wealth, and joy. Its face was a flat, snoutless thing; each inhale a snort. Through his connection to the Galeslither, Avo could feel the creature choking on its own breath.

“Here, dog,” Zein said, words slurring from her final hit of Suncloud. The nano-drug buzzed loud, an angry cloud of glinting fireflies in an inhaler. “Take this.”

It blinked slowly, wondering what the old woman wanted.

Its answer came in the form of Suncloud jammed right against its jowls. The dog's beady eyes widened, its frame shivering as the nano-particles poured through its system. The thoughtstuff of the dog sputtered as if a river smashing into a dam.

It began to cough, hacking violently as Zein shook her head. “This is not the future in which it decides to throw off the shackles of control and see its own destiny. A pity.”

Without looking, she offered up her drug canister to Avo. The slobber leftover from the unwilling dog dolloped in thick oozing strands. “Take it.”

“No,” he said. “Force it on me and die.”

She smirked. “Well, the ‘die’ part is accurate.”

The blood within her coursed slower, impeded by crystallizing blockages forming in her arteries. Where his Heaven of Blood tasted substances flowing through the bodies around him, none were quite as congested as Zein's.

Which wasn’t a surprise considering she blew her winnings as fast as they came in, buying, and often doing the drugs right in front of the dealer. Right then, she probably had enough substance inside her to make a nu-whale hallucinate a vision of Jaus.

“Damn this,” Zein said, her breaths wheezing. “Hear me now, Avo. Terrestrial drugs are terrible. If you ever want some good substances, seek the voider. Voiders.” She sighed. “Now they know how to live.” Blood bursted out inside her liver. She didn’t even wince.

“Trying to kill yourself again?” Avo said, wondering if he could pocket her in his Galeslither in time to hide whatever explosion was certain to follow.

She scoffed. “Failing to overdose. And spare me the anxiety. I will not explode. My bomb is a tooth-trigger, not a death-trigger.”

A nearby Scaarthian turned to stare at them when he heard the word bomb. He quickly turned away when he had to look up to meet Avo’s gaze. Right. The Bone Demon made him taller. So much for keeping a low profile. He needed to get his holocoat back. And maybe buy an Incog from a squire, he had no time for crafting his own. He glared at the legendary swordswoman.

“Listen,” Zein said, pounding her chest as if trying to accelerate her impending heart attack, “There are many things we must discuss. But I refuse to do it sober. The topics are miserable and I despise almost everyone involved. Also, joy.”

“What?” Dealing was Zein was like trying to wrangle a nu-cat. At least he could send Draus a message now. Give her a heads-up that the almighty Zein Thousandhand was finally ready to ascend and greet the ground.

Slats of nanoarmor parted around Zein’s wrist as she slammed the needle into her veins like she was exacting vengeance on someone. Blood spurted everywhere. “Joy. It can hide your thoughtwaves. I can’t wander out in real without this.”

He stared, unsure if anything she was saying to him was true or if she was just having a drug-fueled meltdown. “Doing this to hide? Why not just use the ghosts?”

She shot him a withering stare. “Then, my genius of an apprentice, what excuse will I have to do all the drugs I want.” She folded her arms like she just won a debate. The drugs she was carrying clattered out of her grasp, spilling onto the casino floor. “Come. Let us ascend. I feel an overdose coming. Now is the time I should be introduced to the others. Warn them. Warn of them of Zein Thousandhand.”

She then promptly collapsed and began convulsing.

Avo just watched for a beat, Echoheads inching forward tentatively. He wondered how it would feel to stab her.

+Avo?+ Draus said, her session coming online. +River’s sayin’ she got eyes on you wandering around the lobby with some… drug fiend.+

Avo growled a low sigh. +I’m coming up. Bringing Zein Thousandhand with me. +

+Alright, sync–wait, did you say Zein Thousandhand?+

“Jaus, yao-guai.” Avo jumped at Bright-Wealth's voicie. The Sang was looking at the dozen or so half-injected needles impaled into Zein’s wrist port. The old woman was shivering like a leaf on the wind. “You–you can’t just bring a degenerate off the street into the Second Fortune.? What the fuck do you think we are? A homeless encampment?.”

"Not what it looks like."

Zein made a choking noise and went still.

“Great,” Bright Wealth said, turning to glare at Avo. “Just perfect. You bring back some homeless drug fiend degenerate and the she dies here. It’s like you’re trying to get the Exorcists to do an audit on us. Why can't you have normal hobbies like the rest of us, eh? Just gamble. Or eat some unfortunate gutter rats like your brothers.”

“Just give her a second.,” Avo sighed. They thought this was her first death from overdose. The fools. He had to prop her back up against the slots the first time.

Suddenly, Zein shivered. And then she was gone.

Bright-Wealth blinked. "Where--where'd she go."

"Probably to get more drugs."

Zein, as he discovered, approached life with a certain philosophy, and that philosophy could be summed in two words when it came to drugs.

Why not.

He went after her.

***​

Spasming in the corner of the room near the holo-vision deck, the aged woman twitched and foamed on the couch, her spine contorting to bend at impossible angles, her limbs lashing and jerking as if each extension to her torso were becoming possessed by ghosts. Warring ghosts.

Through it all, one thing never left her hand: the Umbrella. The crystalline hilted umbrella. The item was essentially and permanently stuck to her grip. Draus, in a moment of concern, had attempted to take it from the woman, but found herself blinded for the second time that day as the gleaming ferrule sprayed into her sockets.

Across the room, Green River, Avo, Draus, and Kae stood, taking in one of history’s greatest Godclads with wordless awe.

“Avo,” Draus said, her voice a whisper, “are you absolutely sure this is Thousandhand? I mean. Some other Fallwalker might-coulda gotten some grafting done to play pretend.”

The thought crossed his mind too, but something told him it wasn’t the case. There was a uniqueness to the old woman’s insanity. A type of carefreeness one gained from a lifetime of murdering their enemies and being untethered from death. Avo nodded, finding himself mostly content to watch the legendary swordswoman suffer from her desired overdoses.

All of them.

Both of Zein’s legs were kicking up toward the ceiling now. Her expression, one of pure bliss, never changed. Not even as blood began to pour out from every orifice.

“How the hells did you even run into her,” Draus asked. “You dropped off Idheim for nearly half an hour. Your session just gave me static. Thought it was just you divin’ deeper into that wind-pocket-space you got.”

“Didn’t run into her.” Avo scowled. “She kidnapped me. Pulled me out leaving Ox-Three.”

“Yeah. ‘Bout that: What the hells happened there? Green River sent a nu-dog over. Said the entire building–and a few blocks more even–found themselves nulled. Godsdamned slaughterhouse of the mind.”

He grunted. “Family reunion." He shifted back on his Echoheads to keep them from bristling. "Low Masters came to see me. Brought my old god along with them.”

Draus did a double take. “You saw the Hungers?”

“Not really a god,” Avo said. “Something like… a mob of people living inside five cannibalistic dragons.”

Draus face flattened deeper into suspicion. “You didn’t touch no drugs, yeah?”

He glared silently.

“You, uh, sure about that?” Draus pressed. “Cause it looks like you pulled out some old joy-fiend street squire from the gutters.”

Zein’s convulsing finally stopped with a clank. Everyone blinked. The twitching began anew, the old woman flopping now to the rhythm coming from the entertainment system’s advertisement.

Green River turned to Avo. Her fox never stopped glaring at Thousandhand. “Yosanna. She is dead?”

“Nulled,” Avo said. “Like everyone else in the block. You already know. Other branches of Walton–the Low Masters. They cracked everyone before I got there. Built Auto-Seances into the minds. Siphoned overall cog-cap to hide the Hungers.”

A loud piercing screech finally came from Zein. Her body bolted upright and shuddered, eyes spinning and bloodshot. “Ah! It is upon me! Death! Death! Avo! Avo listen to me! If you have nanosuites, use Suncloud first! It overwhelms the systems so the other drugs can take effect. Remember this. Reme–”

She gave a choked noise as she clutched her chest and fell over.

Everyone stared.

Her thoughtstuff faded. Her breath wisped out. Her blood slowed.

Zein was dead.

“I cannot house you here anymore,” Green River said, a quiet fury bleeding into her features. “I can quell what happened here today, but not with you present. There will be questions. Not just from the Exorcists but my elders.” She paused. “They must know that old power of Noloth is still in play. This attack cannot go unanswered. And I must rehouse the two children. They will want to know what happened wth their mother.”

Right. The kids. Avo barely remembered they existed. “Where will you put them?”

Green River lifted an eyebrow. “Do you want to eat them or something?”

“No,” Avo said. “Not really.”

And so they spoke no more on it.

“I can give you a reference,” River said. “Someone in Nu-Scarrowbur who can help hide you while Draus–”

Zein appeared between them. “That will be unnecessary.” The fox bit out at her in surprise. Zein seized its jaws before it could open fully. Tossing her umbrella away, she reached up and began to scratch the vulpine.

For the first time since he met her, Green River looked visibly unnerved, swallowing.

“Yes,” Zein said. “Good dog. I had a nu-fox once. During the First Guild War. Rekikimo. Very clever girl. Horrible death though. Ugly death.”

Both the Sang and the fox blinked.

Releasing Green River’s fox, Zein spun on her heel to face Avo frowning as she needed to look up. Her umbrella was back in her hand again. He didn’t recall her ever picking it up. “There is no need for you to find another rat nest to hide.”

She leaned in close and–

Promptly inhaled a mouthful of pills again. “Ah, incredible.”

She offered the drug to Kae, who took it absent-mindedly, who had it snatched from her in turn by a scowling Draus. “Start gettin’ to the point, Thousandhand. Been hearin’ a lot of stuff today and ain’t none of it makes a lick of sense.” Out of all of them, Draus regarded the ancient Godclad with the most disdain, carefree violence clashing with habitual professionalism like oil on water.

“Ah that,’ Zein said, looking Draus up and down. Thousandhand swallowed a tablet of Numb. “Why are all of you so tall?” She looked at Kae and opened her arms in greeting. “Stay short, sister. Someone must placate my ego.”

Kae blinked, the sheer chaos of the situation meshing poorly with her already-savaged mind. “Um… okay?”

“Avo, listen,” Zein said. “We need to go into the gutters–”

He snarled. “No! No more drugs. Exorcists searching the area. Paladins.”

“Wonder whose fault that is,” Draus muttered.

“It’s not about the drugs,” Zein began, taking a vial of Numb to bring herself down. “For now.”

“Jaus,” Draus muttered.

“It’s about the Helix,” Zein said. “It’s about the Helix, the inheritance your father left you, and how you’re going to use them to help Jhred Greatling invade Nu-Scarrowbur and assassinate his mother’s killer.” A vicious smile that had nothing to do with the drugs then ballooned across her face. “It's about killing and framing him for an act of terrorism.”

Everyone just stared at Zein.

“I mean,” Draus said. “We was still plannin’ to kill that half-strand. It was just more of a… revenge and diet thing.”

Avo grunted a laugh. Despite everything, the idea of planting his ghosts inside Mirrorhead before torturing the Guilder to death remained ever so tantalizing.

“Oh,” Zein said. “And here I was thinking I needed to persuade you. Good. Good. But first–we need a ghoul.” Avo stared at her blankly. “Not you, my sweet idiot dagger. A pure ghoul. One that you might be able to pilot and use as an access for the darkness.”

“Pilot?” Avo asked, not fully comprehending what was being said. “What do you mean pilot?”

Zien’s lips thinned. “It is a thing easier performed than explained.” She leaned in closer. “Would you like to see the house that your father left you?”

“House?” Avo asked, the events of the day leaving him uncertain how literally to take everything said to him.

“Demiplane,” Zein stated plainly, “the Helix is the key to a demiplanar nexus. We just need to get close enough down to activate it.”