"You are surprised as well," Cripple noted. "You did not know this would happen? That this was the Starhawk's plan?" "The Starhawk's plan?" Shiv spat out before he could process anything. Frankly, none of this sounded like the Starhawk. This was probably caused by Uva, or more likely, one of the eldritch gods hidden inside her. He couldn't imagine Uva deciding it was wise to fling the perch into the Outside. So he could only guess that things got absolutely desperate. Once more, a cord of anxiety tightened inside Shiv. But he wasn't as worried as a moment ago. The Tarrasque was a problem of problems. Even now, with his Legendary Skill, Shiv wasn't sure if he could beat the Tarrasque in a direct showdown without a lot of help. Especially considering how easily it had managed to overwhelm both Marikos and Hawgrave. While the Ascendants were trying to deal with it, Shiv thought. Cripple studied Shiv's surprise for a few seconds longer and took a step back. "If you did not know, then you were at Blackedge purely to save the town. To repel the Tarrasque." "I didn’t know about the Tarrasque," Shiv admitted. "I just had a Quest for that whole town-saving thing. It's the reason why I'm Legendary right now. Also, it was meant for me to stop a war from happening between the surface and the Abyss. Look, by the time you got there, things were already halfway to hell. But before you arrived, there were Necrotechs there. Rogue Necrotechs led by Vicar Sullain." The Avatar's finger twitched. "Sullain. The City Lord of Submission?" Official source ıs 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⟡𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕥⟡𝕟𝕖𝕥 Shiv nodded. "He rose up to take revenge on Roland for burning his city." Shiv ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "And he had help. Help from your inquisition." "What?" Cripple breathed. A mechanical reverberation left its Avatar's body like a crackle. "Say more. Tell me more." And Shiv couldn't hide his smirk any longer. "The Tarrasque was supposed to be a backup plan," Shiv began. "Something used to delay a Legendary Pathbearer like Marikos. Of course, it wasn't an Undying Tarasque at that point. Until Sullain took a little something from me." Shiv didn't say anything specific about his Vitae. The less the Ascendant knew about that, the better. But this increased the tension between them and gave Shiv another edge. “Before the Tarrasque, though, an Animancy Core was supposed to pass through a Compact gate and be delivered to Sullain. So he could finally crack Blackedge's defenses." "No, no," Cripple said. "That is madness. The Animancy Cores… They can ruin entire dimensions if used poorly, devastate regions of existence—” "Well, one was going to Sullain," Shiv interrupted, spitting his words through gritted teeth. "I don't care if you don't want to believe me. It was heading in that direction until it was intercepted. Intercepted by me and Adam Arrow, along with our allies in the Abyss." Shiv didn't want to reveal Uva's presence, especially considering she was the Starhawk's current Avatar. If they found out about that, well, no telling what kind of trouble would follow. "We intercepted the Animancy Core. We disabled it and made sure it never got used on Blackedge." Shiv looked off to the side, trying to project his displeasure. "Listen, Cripple, you seem to care a lot about your fellow Ascendants. But some of the others, well, they really want the Starhawk dead. Because the Inquisition was in contact with Sullain the whole time. Through an automaton stationed in the Compact gate, one Master-Advisor Oldsmith." The Avatar was trembling. Part of Shiv considered if the Ascendant was acting surprised. But something told him Cripple wasn't that good at performing. "And right now, in a cell, Master-Inquisitor Sijik is being interrogated by Vultegs for trying to raid Gate Theborn." And that was a bit bullshit. He was interrogated by Uva. But Cripple didn't need to know that. "And how do you know this?" Cripple demanded. "Because I was there during the interrogation," Shiv snapped. "Who do you think helped the Vultegs stop the Animancy Core from going off inside their Gate? How do you think I got back to the surface so fast? How do you think me and Adam were capable of challenging the rogue Necrotechs? Did you think we were just doing that on our own? That we didn't have support?" Cripple was speechless, but it didn't refute any of Shiv's points. "No!" Shiv kept going. "We weren't alone. And there are people in the Abyss who want this peace to continue as much as you do. Now, I don't much care about the Lords of Law or Compact or whoever they work with. I know you have bad history with them. But they intercepted a good amount of things from your Inquisition. They have sync-letters between Oldsmith and Sijik talking about all sorts of things. Things that have to do with Vicar Sullain. Things that revealed a bit of a double-cross happening at the end there, because the Inquisition wanted to take charge of the Animancy Core so the good Vicar didn't just use it to blast everything out of existence." The Deathless snorted. "You ever see an Animancy Core go off, Ascendant? There's nothing quite like it. It's a real faint patch of blue that swallows the world. But then it seems to sear whatever it touches into reality. And when you're near that seared patch, you can hear screaming. You can hear the Pathbearer trapped there forever. I've done some pretty mean things to people. I've killed people in ugly ways. But that I would never do to someone." And Shiv was kind of bullshitting right now again. He loved the fact that the Recollector was seared into reality. He loved it because the Recollector tortured seven shades of shit out of him beforehand. And Shiv was, despite trying to improve his maturity, a spiteful bastard. "If what you're saying is true…" Cripple began. "Then, then, then what?" Shiv cut the Ascendant off. "Are you going to tell me that there's nothing you can do again? That it's just the way the world is?" Silver Tongue 33 > 34 "No!" Cripple shouted. And finally, its rage was radiating, pure and true. For the first time, Shiv felt the complete and unfettered might of Cripple, and it slammed against him. It was only because of his Legendary Skill Evolution that he survived. Shiv pushed back with Leviathan of the Shapeless Tides. His vectors of force, both overflow and innately generated, smashed against the incandescent mana detonating free from the Avatar's body. Bits of the Avatar broke away, dissolving into particles of ash. It was no longer humanoid. Rather, it was a cracking husk birthing the power of a god. "If what you say is true," Cripple's voice echoed, making the Orichalcum cage shake and whine with strain, "then the Inquisition will experience a new purge. A proper cleansing to fix these ill seeds festering inside its structure.” "Well, what I am saying is true," Shiv growled as he struggled to hold the god’s power back. "And you just need to go ask City Lord Stormhalt, because Sijik was working under him. Stormhalt had more than one thing going on, too, by the way. There was a Jealousy at the gate. It was meant to guard the Abyssal Gateway, but it was contracted to help steal the Animancy Core by Stormhalt. I can prove it. He underwent a skill contract with the Jealousy. If you have someone examine his skill statuses, one of them should be broken." Shiv pulled on his red-gold chains in discomfort. His Legendary Skill was working hard. His overflow was practically spent—enough strength to crush Blackedge down to powder, barely holding a god’s incandescent presence at bay. Divinity was a crushing weight. Shiv could carry a mountain with ease now, perhaps. But this was a mountain that constantly built more and more. A mountain that was beyond the concept of weight itself. That was above this reality. That hurt him. That strained him. That brought more than his body to the brink. His mind wailed as well. But as he pushed back, Shiv finally understood the true beauty of being a Legend. It allowed you to contend with the power of a God. Because you reached into the very foundations of a skill. Shiv was a manipulator of force. A source of force. But he was not force absolute. A god felt like force absolute. Yet, he could survive a god. If he were clever, if he was prepared, if he had force to spend, he could survive long enough to escape. But if he wasn't, and in a prolonged confrontation, death was still inevitable. Five seconds passed. Shiv knew by the heartbeats thundering inside his chest. Then, finally, all of a sudden, the Avatar crashed down to the ground, smoke rising from its ruined body, and a little distorted note rattled out of its skull. "I apologize once more," Cripple said, sounding more tired than anything else. "I… I do not wish to believe you. I do not wish to believe that the Inquisition has betrayed its purpose so much. That it has fallen to making deals with Greater Demons and enemies of our nation. Stormhalt… what have you done…” Shiv didn't much like Stormhalt, so he decided to twist a knife. "Yeah, and also ask him about all the food he promised the Jealousy." Shiv grinned. "You know what a Jealousy eats, right?" "I do. And if your words ring true, then I will see him executed. Slowly. Publically.” And with every syllable delivered, the Avatar's body came back together. The pieces it lost weren't replaced. Rather, a fire was spilling out of it. A fire that revealed new components to his body. And Shiv guessed that those components were from Cripple itself. From what Shiv could make of Cripple, his body was jagged and angular. More like a collection of blades locked together than a humanoid shell. His legs were spider-like in some sense, and also digitigrade at the feet. The Avatar's fist turned into a dense column of slatted metal. More than just being slatted, it also had many vents running along the arm. Incandescent mana bled out from the vents, and the interior of the Orichalcum cell grew uncomfortable once more. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "Not sure if this is entirely wise, Cripple," Shiv said, deliberately trying to provoke the Ascended. "Stormhalt is Halsur's guy, isn't he?" Shiv clicked his tongue. "That seems to be a bit of a problem. Might affect your harmony with the other Ascendants." "What harmony?" Cripple growled. "What harmony comes with the sacrifice of our citizens? What was the point of our sacrifice if we are seeing the very people we need to protect sacrificed?" The automaton Ascendant was almost stuttering from sheer anger now. It was genuinely outraged. And despite everything, Shiv found the slightest bit of appreciation burgeoning inside himself. Cripple was full of shit. Cripple was kind of a coward. Cripple had a lot of problems. A lot of trauma. But Cripple wasn't a complete liar. Cripple still loved Yellowstone. And what Stormholt did? Well, that might just get the City Lord killed. "Well, go ask him," Shiv finally said. "When he returns," Cripple declared. "When the Tarrasque is finally driven southward." "Southward?" Shiv replied. He was surprised by the Ascendant's statement. "You're gonna dump the Tarrasque on Lone Star? Aren't we kinda sorta allies with them? Or at least neutral?" "No, further than that," Cripple elaborated. "We are going to push it into the land of the Obsidian Serpent, where the Hegemony always waits to drive its fangs into our veins. May they break them off on the beast instead." Shiv blinked as he tried to figure out what Cripple was talking about. But geography wasn't his strong suit. Neither was writing, reading things that weren't set lists, math... Psycho-Cartography: When we break out of this place, and we manage to get Blackedge back after saving Adam, we're going to go back to the gate, we're going to build up our defenses, and we're going to sit in a nice spot for a long while and just study. Whoever comes our way, we kill, and we go back to studying. Because this isn't going to work out forever. "Maybe you should go out and seek your friends. Go help them," Shiv said. His suggestion was glib. He knew Cripple wasn't going to leave him in the cell, but there was no harm in trying. "The Tarrasque is a real godsdamned issue, considering it has 12 Ascendants on its ass and still hasn't died. You punched a pretty good hole through it earlier. Maybe you can do that again." "Unlikely," Cripple said. "The Tarrasque has adapted to most things. It is no longer resistant to most forms of damage; it is outright immune. At least up to the ceiling of this world's power limits. It will take a concentrated effort to overwhelm its many skills now. Armies of Pathbearers or multiple gods working in tandem through their Avatars." "More than the Republic?" Shiv asked. "More than the Republic," Cripple confirmed. "But before we slay it, we can make use of it. Our enemies should share in our misfortune.” And once more, Shiv's admiration for Cripple, as small as it was, died in a moment. The Deathless chuckled humorlessly. "You rat bastard. I guess I thought too much of you too.” "It is nothing the Southerners and their gods would not do to us." "Oh, I'm sure. I'm sure they're pieces of shit too. I'm sure everyone's world is somewhat of a piece of shit. Frankly, I think we can justify anything with someone else being a piece of shit. Maybe the next time New Albion says something we don't like, we should drop the Tarrasque on them too. Actually, do you mind loaning it to me? Because I need to give the First Blood a compensation gift for all the vampires I've killed." "As appealing as that sounds, and as understandable as your mockery is, this is simply what must be done," Cripple replied, no hint of shame in its voice. "There is no room for mercy or weakness in a struggle between nations. The Yellowstone Republic is stable because we make it so. Because we, the Ascendants, guard this land against all corners, against all adversaries. Through our power and our Prismatic Guard, this nation is maintained. Prosperity rises, and there is a future, rather than an eternal struggle for base survival." Shiv wanted to argue, but he decided to consider Cripple’s points. The Ascendants were the glue that kept the Republic together. Of that, he was sure. Without them... Well, without them, Shiv wasn't sure what would happen to the Republic. Some cities might break off, but if he had to make a guess, he suspected that the larger ones, such as Fortress-City Diego, might just actually start annexing territory. And soon there would be another Republic, Empire, or Faith where Yellowstone was. Ruled by a Legend or a god, or someone stronger than all the others. Because that's the way it worked everywhere. Even in Weave, where life was truly gentle, and there was a sense of innocence and stability in the atmosphere thanks to the Composer's presence, there were problems. And the Composer was the one with the final say. That realization made Shiv frown a bit. The System loved the individual. It empowered those who triumphed against impossible odds. But there was something wrong with that. Just because someone was an incredible warrior or an overwhelming mage, it didn't make them a good leader. Shiv thought about Sullain. The Vicar was an Omnimancer. He was easily the single greatest mage Shiv had ever faced. Yet he betrayed himself. He let himself be killed by Shiv and a small army of orcs when he could have just used his workings from afar or simply left the battlefield, even assisted the Tarrasque. If Sullain continued working with the Tarrasque, then perhaps everyone would be dead. But he was blind, and he was wounded at the heart. And so he fell. At that, Shiv's mind trailed off. How the hells did Sullain get to Legendary? he thought to himself. How the hells did he beat himself in the Delve? But then, as Shiv considered it more, he came up with a theory. If Sullain was this emotional, then perhaps his clone was equally emotional. Maybe they traded barbs, and the clone broke down first, and after a few or a lot of tries, Sullain eventually won. That sounds pretty stupid, Shiv thought. But maybe it's actually how it went? No way to know, I guess. "No," Cripple said once more. "So long as you are within this cage, I must—" And then the cage rumbled. Everything rumbled. A loud noise followed that sounded like a scream, but it reverberated through the air, detonating as if a thunderstorm had been unleashed within the prison. The Avatar froze and looked upward. Shiv did as well. A second thereafter, a loud broadcast filled the room. A broadcast unleashed telepathically, drenching the prison in a loud, orcish voice. "Good evening, Pathbearers. If you heard that roar, that means that every single monstrosity you have caged within level 900 section 7 just got released. I don't know much about these mana controls you have here, but I do know enough about how to break them. Now, I'm going to go through every other mana control I can access and unleash everything you have caged in this prison. My name, for those of you who wish to know it, is Bonk. I'm an orc. I'm of the Challenger. And on this day, I will be offering you your in-prison entertainment. To the guards, I strongly suggest you band together and try to hold the prisoners at bay. This breakout will be rather brutal. I have taken a peek at some of the denizens in your cells. They are quite substantial. You comparatively… Well, let's just hope your Ascendant here comes to save you." And with every word Bonk said, Shiv's grin grew wider. I’m starting to love that orc. The Avatar turned to stare at him, and Shiv cracked his neck. "All right, Cripple, let's come to another deal. You let me out of this cage, and I'll help you contain the breakout. Keep some of the guards safe. Or you can go yourself, and I'll try to break out in the meantime. You know I will, I'm not going to lie to you." Before Cripple could say anything, Shiv added a final suggestion. "Or we could both sit here and do nothing. But then all the deaths will be on your conscience. Can you take that?" Cripple glared at Shiv for a long moment and then shook its head. "You will remain here. Attempt escape if you must, but understand that I will find you, and I will place you back within the cell. It is for your own safety." "No," Shiv said, his voice turning harsh. "It's just for your security. Because you can’t control me, and you don’t want to risk someone else getting the reward on my head. And when I do break out the cell, I'm going to crush it. I'm going to crush it like a can, and I'm going to vanish. You will not find me. You will try, and it might take me a little bit to figure out this prison, but I'm going to get out. And when I do, I hope you get to Stormhalt before I do, because I have a few questions to ask him. And I won’t be as nice as I was with you.” Just then, a piercing scream came from above. It was not a monstrous scream. No, it was a scream of a female Pathbearer, and it was accompanied by the sound of ripping flesh. A growl of frustration escaped Cripple, and it vanished in a puff of incandescent ashes. As soon as it did, Shiv enacted his plan. A tide of force exploded out from his body, rushing along the chains through his Orichalcum bonds. They slashed into the mana infusing his Orichalcum cell and against the spell patterns present, and the mana began to rip and spill. Patterns broke like rusted cages or severed tendons. Several of the spells tried to trigger. A blast of Psychomancy hit Shiv, and he felt his mind collapse in on itself only momentarily before another innate pulse of might was generated. With that, he pushed it back. He held it at bay and tore through the spell patterns present. A blast of heat struck Shiv in the chest. Lightning lashed into his bonds, trying to overwhelm his body. Lightning infused with Biomancy that was meant to compromise his nervous system. Shiv pushed back with more than his Legendary Skill. He used his Biomancy to keep himself stable, resisting the adversarial effects until he ripped that spell asunder as well. Soon, Shiv's overflowing vectors were circulating through the Orichalcum prison. He unleashed more and more. Those he couldn't focus on detonated in slashes of surging force. But Shiv practiced his mind, practiced his Multi-Tasking skill, as the Orichalcum chamber rattled, screamed, and finally began to crack. Fissures spread along its length. It continued drawing from his willpower to sustain its toughness. Shiv's might far exceeded the durability of this cage. With a final ripple of strength, he channeled his might and pried at the cracks, bending it open as if a tin can rather than a cylinder of Orichalcum. The red-gold alloy of unmatched hardness shrieked as it endured enough kinetic energy to displace mountains and tear the earth down to the very foundations of the world. But soon Shiv’s strength went beyond that, and the Orichalcum just couldn't keep up anymore. There was enough power leaking from him that it could turn unwarded cities to dust, could flatten mountain ranges. And all that force tore a ten-centimeter-wide gap into the Orichalcum. The Deathless let out a wheeze as he shook off the burning feeling in his muscles. As another ripple of strength thundered out from inside him, he felt his vigor return—and turned his innate force on himself. He crushed his heart, pulping it in an instant. And as his body went slack, his Vitae burst out from his corpse, and he began to slither through the crack. Multi-Tasking 24 > 26 Aegis of Assimilation 112 > 114 Just as Shiv started squeezing his way out, Cripple returned in a blast of incandescent ash. But the moment it rematerialized, Shiv shifted out of context. He slithered into the gap and disappeared. Shiv couldn't help but laugh. Outside Context Problem was a wonderful skill to have. "Now," Shiv said to himself, "let's find Bonk so I can give him a hug. And also so that I can figure out where the rest of my equipment went." Despite all the dangers and threats looming on the horizon, he was feeling excited. “I always wanted to break out of a prison.” Outside Context Problem 87 > 88 The Ascendant stared at the corpse and looked up at the large spiderweb of fractures left in the structure. Cripple’s core filled with dread as it considered what kind of creature was strong enough to tear a fissure into Orichalcum. That was a Legendary-Tier act of strength. "Who are you?" Cripple asked aloud, staring at the dead, musclebound man hanging from his Orichalcum bonds. "And who did this to you?”