"I was one of their warrior puppets in the Bloodworks; their arenas," Cripple said. Its voice was thick with disgust. "My Path was already set, so they couldn't make a true slave of me. But still, I was bound. I was pressed to entertain them. Initially, they treated me as a surfacer attraction. A surfacer automaton they would use to cut down criminals, dissidents, and unfortunates." Cripple's hands shook. "I did not wish to shed their blood, but it wasn't up to me. I tried to resist. I tried." Cripple's words sounded like a plea now, and Shiv was practically enraptured. "You will discover something about being tortured." Cripple continued regarding Shiv, but then, after a moment, it unclenched its fist. "But I suspect you already know something about that, don't you?" Shiv nodded. "Had a run-in with an eldritch entity," he admitted. "Tried to convert me, tried to change me. Didn't quite take, but it's not a thing I would recommend." Cripple chuckled at Shiv's understatement. "Torture breaks all, eventually. There are Pathbearers that can endure for months, years, perhaps even centuries, but eventually, they will be worn down. Though my martial capabilities were considerable, though my Toughness was without question, my strength capable of contending even against Pathbearers a Tier above my own, there has always been a flaw in my source code." "A flaw?" Shiv asked. "A vulnerability in my will," Cripple explained. "It was conditioned into me from the moment of my creation. As I told you before, this world right now is soft and good. I understand why you were offended by my words, but I know it to be true. In the time of the Dusk King, before the Republic, before the Legendary-Tier Incursion finally concluded, Earth was a slaughterhouse. Pathbearers fought and died, desperate to carve a place for themselves in this uncaring world. The mana was weaker, and so were we, but that just amplified our brutality. Many city-states and nations sought whatever means they could to gain an edge over their adversaries." Somehow, Shiv understood intuitively. "Felling shit, you were a slave even before you went to the Abyss." "Somewhat," Cripple said, but there was no anger in his voice, just exhaustion. "I didn't understand what a slave was at that point, and neither did my owners." "Owners?" Shiv asked. "I was regarded as a thing. Not a person. Not even close. Before the Republic, the organics and the machines had a different relationship. As you might have noticed, an automaton's skill evolutions are far different in many ways. We are not susceptible to Psychomancy, and our bodies are more malleable." Shiv took that opportunity to dig for some information. "The Inquisition came in on this large ship. Hawgrave referred to that ship as if it were a person. That was an automaton, wasn't it?" "Yes," Cripple replied. "That was an automaton, a Heroic-Tier automaton dedicated to bearing the weight of its fellow Pathbearers. We have skills that you cannot access, functions left over from the pre-Integration. In those times, we did not evolve. We were simply rebuilt or modified. Our chassis could be changed on a whim. Our source codes could be updated." "But the System doesn't want that," Shiv said. "The System wants you to only change through struggle." "Correct," Cripple said, nodding once. "And so, some of us gain evolutions that drastically alter our morphologies. Automata who find themselves serving as couriers often gain skill evolutions titled Humpback Mark 13." Shiv blinked as he tried to process what that skill name could possibly mean. "It is related to vessels from the old world," Cripple explained. "Vehicular models that we can remake our material bodies into. And that was why we were considered invaluable. The old ways of technology had been lost, but through us, some semblance of the ancients lived on. The ways they wielded electricity and silicon to create wonders. We were those wonders, and thus we became weapons." Cripple's words made Shiv think of Can Hu. Forbidden Africa seemed to still operate the same way to this very day. "I did not have a name during those times. But I did have a sense of self, as did many of my fellow automata. Though they did not question the commands of our owners, I often found myself wondering why we were raiding a certain village. Why we were murdering certain people. Why we had to bomb a stretch of defenseless farmland. And why so many of my siblings had to die. None of it made sense to me. And in time, incomprehension grew to resentment." "So you rebelled," Shiv said. "I rebelled. And my rebellion was brutal." The Deathless waited for the Ascendant to continue with his story. Ultimately, it didn't. "I have spoken enough about myself," it said with a weary weight in its voice. "I would rather hear from you now. I have given far, far more than I think is reasonable." The Ascendant hummed. "Be glad it is me you speak with and not Kathereine." "Yeah, I'm definitely glad," Shiv said with a shudder. "I want nothing to do with her. And if she comes near me, I'm going to kill her and myself. Maybe not in that exact order." "You have already had an encounter with her, I see," Cripple noted with a faint note of derision. "Yeah, she was at Blackedge just a bit before you. Her and Halsur." "Ridiculous," Cripple spat. "As if we were not divided enough. As if we were not on the verge of shattering ourselves for her petty grievance against the Starhawk.” Shiv squinted at the Ascendant and decided to press his luck. "You know, the Starhawk said something about you. He said you were the closest to him in terms of morality." Stolen from NovelHub, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Shiv's words made Cripple flinch. "He sees too much in other people, as usual. Thaen is a fool." "And I'm a brute," Shiv said. "And you're kind of a pussy. We all got our problems." The Avatar angled its head at him. And Shiv got the feeling the Ascendant was glaring through its mortal vessel. "Regardless, continue. Do not speak of Ascendants in Blackedge for now. Tell me how you gained your skill. We have gone too far off course." “The Delve was…” Shiv frowned, trying to find the words. "Well, it was pretty straightforward. I had to do a Quest and overcome five encounters. The first four were adversaries I faced during prior evolutions, or what I regarded as essential moments." "You faced yourself at the end," Cripple said, more a statement than a question. "Yep," Shiv replied. "Faced myself. Found it kind of a pain in the ass, to be honest. I had to defend Blackedge and the people on it." Shiv neglected to mention that they were victims of his sloppiness, who perished because of the collateral damage he inflicted. "Anyway, as I went through the encounters, the Legendary skill adjusted itself. And eventually I got Leviathan of the Shapeless Tides.” "And that was all?" Cripple asked, sounding as if he didn't believe Shiv. “You didn’t gain a Blessing to manifest a monstrous form? A special transformation given to you by another god or through a skill?” "Just like that," Shiv said, without a moment's hesitation. He tried to shrug, but the chains and metal bands holding his body in place made it hard. A grunt of annoyance escaped Shiv. "But I do have a guess as to why it's so easy. Main reason is, I’m plenty monster already.” Cripple held out a finger and spun, urging Shiv to continue. The Deathless held back a smirk. He wanted to see how the Ascendant responded to his following statement. "So, there's a good chance that my soul and mind might have parts from a Tarrasque," Shiv paused, "or maybe parts that were inspired by a Tararsque. Not sure, you'll have to ask Udraal Thann." "Udraal!" Cripple nearly choked. He stared at Shiv. The Ascendant stared at Shiv for a long moment and finally looked away. "Then, Veronica's suspicions were true. Damnation. Udraal Thann… Using our Pathbearers for his twisted experiments…” Shiv waited for Cripple to say something else, maybe make a comment on how they confirmed things with Valor, but when it didn't, a faint flame of hope ignited inside Shiv. If they had Valor, he suspected Cripple would have told him. Especially considering Valor’s relationship with Udraal and how he was in Starhawk's Perch. And that made Shiv remember something. When he asked the Ascendant about Starhawk's Perch, it told him the town suffered many casualties. It told him that Adam was in a medical coma, but it said nothing about the Perch itself. And it said nothing about the Tarasque, either. This is either really, really good or really, really fucking bad, Shiv thought to himself. Good? Uva and the others might have escaped down into the Abyss. Bad? The Tarrasque killed them all. And the latter thought made his stomach tumble with nausea. Let's go with good for now. "Has he made contact with you?" Cripple asked. There was more than a hint of urgency in the Ascendant's voice. And when Shiv shook his head, a sigh of relief escaped the Avatar. "Then it is not as dire as I feared. He is still exiled." "Exiled?" Shiv echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You do not know?" Cripple asked, sounding surprised. "About what?" Shiv said. His insides tightened. He wondered if he had made a mistake. Cripple elaborated. "The main reason behind the Abyss War was the death of an Ascendant." Shiv's eyes widened, and got even wider when Cripple continued. "You were right. Before there were thirteen, there were twenty. And among our number were Pathbearers of all skills and talents. One of them was named... Maia. The Artist." It took everything Shiv had not to burst out laughing. Suddenly, Shiv knew something Cripple didn't. It was like they both had pieces to a larger puzzle, but only one of them was putting it all together. "She was a powerful mage, and an incredible artist, as evidenced by her name," Cripple explained. There was a tone of wistfulness to its voice, as if it missed Maia greatly. "She was one of my fellow gladiators for a time, but the Lords of Law noticed her talents in artistry and her beauty, and so she was elevated from the Bloodworks, becoming something more akin to a celebrity." The Ascendant fell quiet for a beat. "It is only because of her that I managed to escape my fate, that I made that final pilgrimage with the other Ascendants, took hold of our own destiny, and brought a new shape to this world." Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn 𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑~𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖾~𝖓𝖊𝖙 Shiv fought the urge to tell Cripple that the one he knew as Maia was still alive, or at least still alive in some fashion. Shiv knew her now as the Forgotten Artist, if judged by the burnt tome she'd left behind. Not yet, Shiv told himself. Not unless we can get something out of it, Psycho-Cartography added. We know she's working with Udraal, but if we tell Cripple that directly, it's probably not even going to believe us, and perhaps even react aggressively. The truth was often ignored when reality got too uncomfortable. "We do not know how he did it," Cripple said, a growl of anger entering its voice. "But Udraal descended into the Great One, and somehow…" The Ascendant's fist clenched again, the meal groaning, and Cripple’s voice shuddered as it spoke. "Somehow, he found a way to slay one of us. She vanished in an instant; all of her dissolved. There was nothing I—we could do. Her presence was taken from this world. And retribution needed to be met." "So you mustered your forces and decided to go down." Shiv thought about that for a moment, and he bit his lip. "Roland and the Eclipsebreakers, their descent into the Abyss to slay an Abyssal Lord. Was all of that real?" "Indeed," Cripple answered. "Despite everything, there was no propaganda there. Udraal knew that his actions would have repercussions, and so he forced a preemptive attack, distracting us to wound us badly enough that our own campaign would be delayed." "But thanks to Roland, it wasn't," Shiv said. "Indeed." The Ascendant let out a little humph of displeasure. "Whatever Roland's flaws, he was an exemplary Pathbearer." Shiv's mind ground to a halt. Something twisted inside him, and he started to feel sick. "Was?" Cripple paused and regarded Shiv. "Blackedge is secured," the Ascendant began. But there was an uneasiness in his tone. Starhawk's Perch itself was…" No, no, no! Shiv screamed internally. Faces flashed before him. Of Georges, of Uva, of Valor. Of Rose, even. He wasn't there. He wasn't there when they needed him then. He wasn't there, and it was because of the Ascendants. I’m going to kill them. I’m going to crush the entire fucking Republic beneath my— "Starhawk's Perch was swallowed by the Outside." And suddenly, his rising anger popped like a bubble. "What?" Shiv squeaked.