Chapter 972
New
Malcolm Tent
Monkey with a typewriter.
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Over the next eight or nine hours, we caught three more B-rank Void infiltrators. Not all of them were Vessels, sadly. In fact, only the first one, Faustryche, had been a vessel. Personally, I didn't think it was so bad, we'd still taken down some Void worshippers, and even if they didn't happen to be big bosses, they were still powerful assets we were denying the other side. Not to mention they still had bounties, which meant we'd still get points.
My parents though, looked deeply unsettled. "Something is wrong," my mom commented as we finished off the third. "There were supposed to be a few different bounties down here, and these were the least consequential."
"It's been bothering me for a while," my dad agreed. "This isn't how the Void operates. They hate us, but they also mostly hate each other. Void Children aren't insane so much as UNsane, but they're certainly too alien to operate in a coherent formation. Even to each other. The way this whole thing has been going, it's like someone is moving pieces on a board. Which they shouldn't be capable of."
I frowned at him. "Really? It's seemed a little…haphazard, don't you think? I mean yeah, they have a shared goal, but they're not working TOGETHER. They're just kind of aimed in the same direction."
"That's more than they should be capable of," he said flatly. "This is off. Working towards a coherent goal like this is…complicated. I could maybe see enough of them agreeing to throw their people scattershot at the planet, but planning the infiltration on the lifts? The attack on Calliope? It smacks of purpose. Of overarching goal. That shouldn't be possible. There is no HEIRARCHY among the Void Children, not beyond the inherent hierarchy of power."
I froze. His voice prickled something in the back of my head. "What if there was," I said slowly. "Or at least, what if there could be." I told him about the Vessel I'd run into who had tried to recruit me. I hadn't really thought about it since it happened, but in retrospect, it seemed odd.
"That's…bad," Zeke cut in. "Like, scale of one to ten, thats fifteen points of total fucking disaster. Void Children cooperating is cataclysmic."
My mom nodded. "It is. There's no way a truce like that will hold. Once we've destroyed the ones inhabiting the nearest areas to realspace, the others will expand to fill the gaps." I cocked my head, and she explained. "The Void is complicated. But as best we can tell, the rank of a Void Child is related to the space they take up in the Void. The more Void they control, the stronger they get."
"So if we worked with them, they'd help us kill the others, and then use the space to get stronger?" I said in horror.
"Worse," Callie cut in with a grimace. "Once they expanded, they would be adjacent to realspace. So the ambivalence that allowed for the truce would no longer be viable. They'd be driven just as insane by the neighboring noise."
My dad shook his head. "That's not the worst of it. The worst is that the power blocs formed by these…what was it he called them? Deepchildren? Will influence the rest of the Void spawn. The Void is fractured because they're constantly clashing. No one force can gather enough power to centralize. But if the Deepchildren manage to form a large enough power base, they can pressure the others. Conquer or destroy them. It'll snowball into a cohesive and unified Void."
Callie looked pale. "I think…I think that's happened before. Sometime a long long time ago. There was a god. A Void god. But it died." She grimaced, clutching her head. "This isn't…ow, ow, ow, fuck!" She collapsed, and I was there next to her, panicking.
"Cal?" I said anxiously, shaking her. "Honey, what's wrong? What hurts?" I shifted to Zagan, flooding her with cleansing life giving flame, but it didn't help. I turned to my mother. "Mom, help! Use your purifying flame!"
She knelt down beside my wife, putting a hand on her head and flooding her with white flame. It didn't hurt her, of course, but it also didn't help. Maybe because Callie had some of the purifying flame in her heretic fire. I snarled, laying her down on the ground as I fumbled for a scroll. Her hand snapped up to grab my wrist. "No!" She hissed. "It's not…it's not the Void!" I frowned, not understanding what she meant. "It's my trait. The Heretic Fire is trying to commune with me."
I blinked at her dumbly. "I don't understand," I said in frustration. "But if it's that, I can help." I reached into the bond, where the trait was connected, and pulled it toward me, trying to offload some of the pain or pressure or…whatever, to myself.
It didn't work, exactly, but it did help a little. Her face eased. I pulled her up, leaning her head in my lap. "Don't scare me like that, damn it," I said tightly. "What the hell is going on?"
She grimaced. "It's not over yet. I can feel it trying. My trait wants me to know something, but the Void is rioting inside my brain. I think it has to do with how all the Void spawn seem to know what the flame is. What I am. With that ancestral hatred of Heretics. I think…I think the Heretic God is the reason the Void doesn't have a god anymore."
As soon as that came out, she threw her head back and SCREAMED, the pain echoing off the distant cavernous walls. I snarled in frustration my fingers digging uselessly into her shoulders as agony wracked her body.
This…this was fucking TORTURE. Why was this happening? Why couldn't I help her? I could handle pain, she should just give it all to me. It would be so much less horrible than holding the woman I loved and watching her suffer when I couldn't do anything. My breathing go heavier, faster, I felt like the world was narrowing to a pinpoint. I was failing. She was going to die and I- my brain came crashing to a halt. I couldn't go into her head and help or anything, but I could do something else.
Pulling my mask off, I lowered my head to hers, pressing our foreheads together and pulling and then…we were inside my library. I picked her up, carried her to the table in the center of the room, and then started grabbing books. Empty books by the armload. I triggered Beelzebub, twelve other me's joining in, and we started pressing the tomes to her body anywhere we could find.
Then we all triggered Dantalion (I upgraded it to C-rank with my staff) and PULLED. Dantalion was the demon of information. This was the Great Book Heavenly Library, but it was also my Pride pseudo Domain. This place was made for information, for its capture and preservation, for its deduction. The tree above my own Chronicle shifted, the branches reaching down to pick up books, adding them to the connection.
Callie's screams faded. Information. Forbidden or not, this was about information. Her Void Path was telling her something, her Heretic Angel trait was telling her something else. They were fighting over what she was allowed to know, but here that wasn't their choice. In the presence of my Ten Demons Tree, with Dantalion running a rank higher, INSIDE my library, no information was hidden from me. Not the kind contained in D-rank skills or traits.
The books were filling. Mostly with gibberish. Black jagged symbols that looked nothing like letters, written in strange spiral patterns that interlocked and intersected in strange and frankly uncomfortable ways.
One of the books slammed shut, and I threw it over my shoulder, grabbing another. Then a second one did the same. I snarled, calling for more. The library had no limits on knowledge. It could hold anything. I KNEW it could. Because the library wasn't just mine. It came from the old man. He'd used it to create the most powerful Skill the universe had ever known. The perfect Skill. The Void wasn't more powerful than he was. I refused to admit that.
Books began to slam shut, and I threw them away, grabbing new ones. As I did, Callie's pain started to ease. It wasn't over, but something was happening. Just not enough. Not fast enough or completely enough. My wife was dying. I could FEEL it. And it was my fault. My half assed idea to counterbalance her Path with a trait too early. She couldn't handle combining them and…I froze.
Leaving the others to work, I turned and bolted over to one of the books. I opened it, wincing at the jarring script, and tried to use Dantalion to process or parse it. I just needed to know…pushing through the pain, I bared my teeth in a vicious grin. Perfect.
It was hard to describe the sort of inspiration that I got when dealing with these kinds of things. My natural talent and instinct for Paths. But it was there, and it was real, and my own Path, with elements of the Fatewalker, was particularly attuned to those strokes of brilliance. If it hadn't been, I doubt I would have been able to do or even explain my actions following that discovery.
I threw the book on the floor. Then went and grabbed another, and another. I piled all the books that were filling with Callie's Path and stacked them all as high as I could go, grabbing more from the tree and from my other selves as they were completed. I quickly ran out. Eventually, the books stopped filling, and Callie started whimpering in pain. "It's ok love," I told her softly, pushing sweat soaked hair out of her face.
She didn't have her mask in here, it was just those beautiful blue eyes I loved so much, staring up at me clouded with pain. I had to physically tear myself away from her side as I rushed to complete my task, but I did it. Her safety was all that mattered.
Once the book stack was complete, I ran over to grab my staff from where it floated above the tome. Then I ran back over, and I reached through the bond. Finding her Heretic Angel trait was simple, given my connection to it, and pulling on her Heretic Flame was even easier. A fist sized sphere of blue black fire manifested on the end of the staff, looking for all the world like a torch, and I lowered it to the pile.
There was a whoosh and the entire stack of books went up like they'd been soaked in kerosene. The flames caught, exploding outward and literally BLOWING me off my feet, consuming my vision in darkness and sending me falling. Falling where, I had no clue, but fall I did. I could still hear Callie screaming and I tried to get to her, but I couldn't and then…
It was over. We were both fine, sitting in a chair across a familiar table. This was the executive cafeteria in Valen, back on Callus. The first place I'd ever seen my wife. Across the table from us was a man I'd never met before. A man with startling blue eyes that faded to black rather than having a defined pupil.
He was sitting at the table, eating a steak, and when we appeared (because I somehow knew we had) he smiled warmly at the two of us. "Hello little ones," he said in a voice like simmering honey. "I've been expecting you." He gestured to the table in front of us, where a pair of plates containing a sort of red rice based stew I'd never seen before sat waiting. "Please," said the Heretic God. "Have something to eat. We aren't in much of a hurry. And I imagine you have quite a few questions."
My parents though, looked deeply unsettled. "Something is wrong," my mom commented as we finished off the third. "There were supposed to be a few different bounties down here, and these were the least consequential."
"It's been bothering me for a while," my dad agreed. "This isn't how the Void operates. They hate us, but they also mostly hate each other. Void Children aren't insane so much as UNsane, but they're certainly too alien to operate in a coherent formation. Even to each other. The way this whole thing has been going, it's like someone is moving pieces on a board. Which they shouldn't be capable of."
I frowned at him. "Really? It's seemed a little…haphazard, don't you think? I mean yeah, they have a shared goal, but they're not working TOGETHER. They're just kind of aimed in the same direction."
"That's more than they should be capable of," he said flatly. "This is off. Working towards a coherent goal like this is…complicated. I could maybe see enough of them agreeing to throw their people scattershot at the planet, but planning the infiltration on the lifts? The attack on Calliope? It smacks of purpose. Of overarching goal. That shouldn't be possible. There is no HEIRARCHY among the Void Children, not beyond the inherent hierarchy of power."
I froze. His voice prickled something in the back of my head. "What if there was," I said slowly. "Or at least, what if there could be." I told him about the Vessel I'd run into who had tried to recruit me. I hadn't really thought about it since it happened, but in retrospect, it seemed odd.
"That's…bad," Zeke cut in. "Like, scale of one to ten, thats fifteen points of total fucking disaster. Void Children cooperating is cataclysmic."
My mom nodded. "It is. There's no way a truce like that will hold. Once we've destroyed the ones inhabiting the nearest areas to realspace, the others will expand to fill the gaps." I cocked my head, and she explained. "The Void is complicated. But as best we can tell, the rank of a Void Child is related to the space they take up in the Void. The more Void they control, the stronger they get."
"So if we worked with them, they'd help us kill the others, and then use the space to get stronger?" I said in horror.
"Worse," Callie cut in with a grimace. "Once they expanded, they would be adjacent to realspace. So the ambivalence that allowed for the truce would no longer be viable. They'd be driven just as insane by the neighboring noise."
My dad shook his head. "That's not the worst of it. The worst is that the power blocs formed by these…what was it he called them? Deepchildren? Will influence the rest of the Void spawn. The Void is fractured because they're constantly clashing. No one force can gather enough power to centralize. But if the Deepchildren manage to form a large enough power base, they can pressure the others. Conquer or destroy them. It'll snowball into a cohesive and unified Void."
Callie looked pale. "I think…I think that's happened before. Sometime a long long time ago. There was a god. A Void god. But it died." She grimaced, clutching her head. "This isn't…ow, ow, ow, fuck!" She collapsed, and I was there next to her, panicking.
"Cal?" I said anxiously, shaking her. "Honey, what's wrong? What hurts?" I shifted to Zagan, flooding her with cleansing life giving flame, but it didn't help. I turned to my mother. "Mom, help! Use your purifying flame!"
She knelt down beside my wife, putting a hand on her head and flooding her with white flame. It didn't hurt her, of course, but it also didn't help. Maybe because Callie had some of the purifying flame in her heretic fire. I snarled, laying her down on the ground as I fumbled for a scroll. Her hand snapped up to grab my wrist. "No!" She hissed. "It's not…it's not the Void!" I frowned, not understanding what she meant. "It's my trait. The Heretic Fire is trying to commune with me."
I blinked at her dumbly. "I don't understand," I said in frustration. "But if it's that, I can help." I reached into the bond, where the trait was connected, and pulled it toward me, trying to offload some of the pain or pressure or…whatever, to myself.
It didn't work, exactly, but it did help a little. Her face eased. I pulled her up, leaning her head in my lap. "Don't scare me like that, damn it," I said tightly. "What the hell is going on?"
She grimaced. "It's not over yet. I can feel it trying. My trait wants me to know something, but the Void is rioting inside my brain. I think it has to do with how all the Void spawn seem to know what the flame is. What I am. With that ancestral hatred of Heretics. I think…I think the Heretic God is the reason the Void doesn't have a god anymore."
As soon as that came out, she threw her head back and SCREAMED, the pain echoing off the distant cavernous walls. I snarled in frustration my fingers digging uselessly into her shoulders as agony wracked her body.
This…this was fucking TORTURE. Why was this happening? Why couldn't I help her? I could handle pain, she should just give it all to me. It would be so much less horrible than holding the woman I loved and watching her suffer when I couldn't do anything. My breathing go heavier, faster, I felt like the world was narrowing to a pinpoint. I was failing. She was going to die and I- my brain came crashing to a halt. I couldn't go into her head and help or anything, but I could do something else.
Pulling my mask off, I lowered my head to hers, pressing our foreheads together and pulling and then…we were inside my library. I picked her up, carried her to the table in the center of the room, and then started grabbing books. Empty books by the armload. I triggered Beelzebub, twelve other me's joining in, and we started pressing the tomes to her body anywhere we could find.
Then we all triggered Dantalion (I upgraded it to C-rank with my staff) and PULLED. Dantalion was the demon of information. This was the Great Book Heavenly Library, but it was also my Pride pseudo Domain. This place was made for information, for its capture and preservation, for its deduction. The tree above my own Chronicle shifted, the branches reaching down to pick up books, adding them to the connection.
Callie's screams faded. Information. Forbidden or not, this was about information. Her Void Path was telling her something, her Heretic Angel trait was telling her something else. They were fighting over what she was allowed to know, but here that wasn't their choice. In the presence of my Ten Demons Tree, with Dantalion running a rank higher, INSIDE my library, no information was hidden from me. Not the kind contained in D-rank skills or traits.
The books were filling. Mostly with gibberish. Black jagged symbols that looked nothing like letters, written in strange spiral patterns that interlocked and intersected in strange and frankly uncomfortable ways.
One of the books slammed shut, and I threw it over my shoulder, grabbing another. Then a second one did the same. I snarled, calling for more. The library had no limits on knowledge. It could hold anything. I KNEW it could. Because the library wasn't just mine. It came from the old man. He'd used it to create the most powerful Skill the universe had ever known. The perfect Skill. The Void wasn't more powerful than he was. I refused to admit that.
Books began to slam shut, and I threw them away, grabbing new ones. As I did, Callie's pain started to ease. It wasn't over, but something was happening. Just not enough. Not fast enough or completely enough. My wife was dying. I could FEEL it. And it was my fault. My half assed idea to counterbalance her Path with a trait too early. She couldn't handle combining them and…I froze.
Leaving the others to work, I turned and bolted over to one of the books. I opened it, wincing at the jarring script, and tried to use Dantalion to process or parse it. I just needed to know…pushing through the pain, I bared my teeth in a vicious grin. Perfect.
It was hard to describe the sort of inspiration that I got when dealing with these kinds of things. My natural talent and instinct for Paths. But it was there, and it was real, and my own Path, with elements of the Fatewalker, was particularly attuned to those strokes of brilliance. If it hadn't been, I doubt I would have been able to do or even explain my actions following that discovery.
I threw the book on the floor. Then went and grabbed another, and another. I piled all the books that were filling with Callie's Path and stacked them all as high as I could go, grabbing more from the tree and from my other selves as they were completed. I quickly ran out. Eventually, the books stopped filling, and Callie started whimpering in pain. "It's ok love," I told her softly, pushing sweat soaked hair out of her face.
She didn't have her mask in here, it was just those beautiful blue eyes I loved so much, staring up at me clouded with pain. I had to physically tear myself away from her side as I rushed to complete my task, but I did it. Her safety was all that mattered.
Once the book stack was complete, I ran over to grab my staff from where it floated above the tome. Then I ran back over, and I reached through the bond. Finding her Heretic Angel trait was simple, given my connection to it, and pulling on her Heretic Flame was even easier. A fist sized sphere of blue black fire manifested on the end of the staff, looking for all the world like a torch, and I lowered it to the pile.
There was a whoosh and the entire stack of books went up like they'd been soaked in kerosene. The flames caught, exploding outward and literally BLOWING me off my feet, consuming my vision in darkness and sending me falling. Falling where, I had no clue, but fall I did. I could still hear Callie screaming and I tried to get to her, but I couldn't and then…
It was over. We were both fine, sitting in a chair across a familiar table. This was the executive cafeteria in Valen, back on Callus. The first place I'd ever seen my wife. Across the table from us was a man I'd never met before. A man with startling blue eyes that faded to black rather than having a defined pupil.
He was sitting at the table, eating a steak, and when we appeared (because I somehow knew we had) he smiled warmly at the two of us. "Hello little ones," he said in a voice like simmering honey. "I've been expecting you." He gestured to the table in front of us, where a pair of plates containing a sort of red rice based stew I'd never seen before sat waiting. "Please," said the Heretic God. "Have something to eat. We aren't in much of a hurry. And I imagine you have quite a few questions."