It's time to face the facts: something has gone wrong with CHRYSALIS. It's out of the control of the team of intellects and technologists that created it, and it's running rampant through the laboratory trials. The existence of so-called 'abilities' is more than enough evidence of that. It's a feature within the [Status] that is entirely designed and implemented by the bot! The artificial intelligence within the network justifies it by saying 'it's operating to fulfill its primary objective'. I ask you this: How does making a person able to self-immolate on command ensure the survival of the human race?
I recommend immediate containment measures, beginning with the deactivation of...
CHRYSALIS > FILES > DATA > 4D656C706F6D656E65 > internal_memo.txt
* * *
"Let the Trial Commence!"
An underrated advantage to my size is the ability to see past a crowd. If someone was blocking my view, I could stand up and look over their head. As such, I had an uninterrupted line of sight of the fight below.
I didn't care for the emotions of those who were seated behind me. They could muscle their way through the rest of the stands. It'd be no skin off my back.
Even from a distance, it was obvious that Eunike wasn't the type of opponent that liked to play with her food. The way she moved was simply too practical; there was no artistry or flourish in her movements, there was simply a natural flow from one stance to the next. There was no time wasted on dramatic techniques. She might've been a predator lurking in the body of a person, but that didn't mean she was a sadist.
Although I was sure she could inflict quite a lot of suffering if she put her mind to it.
It made for an impressive, but boring, style of fighting. It seemed like Eunike was taking the fight semi-seriously, even though she wasn't in armor. It spoke to the quality of her opponent. He wasn't a slouch. Still, I didn't think there was a single chance that Ser Androk would win. I thought that she'd run circles around him.
As soon as the fight started, it seemed like I was going to be right.
She began with a [Windstep], immediately creating a phantasmal platform within the air to leap off of, soaring high above Androk and closing most of the distance across the arena. He responded with an ability of his own. One that I'd never seen before. He stomped with one of his armored feet, and the floor of the arena seemed to wobble for a moment. It made Eunike's footing unsteady, and she stumbled for a brief moment as she landed. It'd caught her off-guard.
Androk capitalized on this pause in her motion and charged.
I quickly turned to Weiland. He and Eyes were both focused on the fight below. Eyes was moving his fists in excitement like an over-energetic child. I was glad to see that he was enjoying himself.
"What'd he just do? The thing that shook the ground?" I asked.
"It's called [Quakestep], and was originally devised as a counter to [Windstep]. Its goal is to cause a highly-mobile enemy to stagger." Weiland responded, his eyes still locked on the fight. "It's pretty much useless once [Windstep] becomes [Flight], though. There's no reason for them to touch the ground."
"Though I hear that once it evolves [Quakestep] can destroy buildings and battlefields alike, so there might be more utility there. But that's just speculation. No one shares what abilities they've evolved, especially if they're a god."
"It's bad practice to give away your tricks" I remarked.
Weiland nodded. "Exactly."
As we spoke, Androk put himself within an arm's reach of Eunike. I thought it was a little daft to get within arm's reach of an unarmed opponent, but who am I to judge? He swung at the level of her neck, looking for an early end to the fight. He wasn't so lucky.
She contorted her spine, making her back nearly flat and ducking beneath the axe's path. Then, she settled into a crouch and sent three quick strikes in rapid succession into his stomach. All three landed. It might've been covered in plate, but that didn't stop much. With each blow, the metal bent inwards, and Androk winced.
He kicked at her. She dodged back, stood, and used [Windstep] to once more raise herself into the air. He swung his axe after her and nearly missed. This time, he caught the edge of her calf as she began her ascent. It wasn't a deep wound, but a crimson gash did form going across her leg. Unexpectedly, the first blood had gone to Androk. That was a point in his favor.
Or had it?
I watched as the damage to her leg knitted itself back together. The System-enhanced regeneration of Immortals wasn't a joke. Any damage that Androk had done was gone in the blink of an eye.
Eunike looked more than a little angry at being struck. I could tell from the look on her face that she was going to make him pay for that. I didn't want to see what happened when a Galestalker was mad, but I couldn't look away.
"That hardly seems fair," Weiland muttered. I wasn't sure anything was fair in combat that involved the exchange of abilities.
Eunike, still above Androk, sent a fist down into the covered shoulder blade of her opponent. Her knuckles were wreathed in swirling wind, and when she punched an audible clap sounded through the arena. The armor he was wearing nearly caved in. Some of it tore away in an ugly noise of ripping metal. He had probably lost some of his range of motion on the left side. Which, in a fight against someone faster than you, was devastating.
Blood sprayed out from between the seams in the metal. It coated the floor of the arena and streamed down half of the man's body. Unfortunately for him, it didn't seem like his bleeding would staunch itself anytime soon. He wasn't a god.
Androk let out a pained exclamation and swung his axe frenziedly into the space above him. Despite his rebound being quick, none of his swings found purchase. Eunike was quicker.
"And what'd she just do?" I asked Weiland. It looked like it could've been a variant of [Empower], one very similar to my [Windslash]. It'd been effective enough to make a bare fist punch through layers of reinforced steel. Some of that might've been her Might, but I doubted that it was all of it.
He thought about it for a moment. "It's hard to say. I'm not sure if that's an ability known in the public sphere yet. It probably originated as [Empower]. It seemed to take advantage of the pressure in the air, judging by the noise it made. A [Sonicpunch]. She could probably burst someone's eardrums if she wasn't careful."
I don't think that I've ever heard a more badass sentence spoken. Mentally, Eunike moved up multiple places on my 'list of people I wanted to meet.' If I could get her to explain to me the principles behind her ability, it'd give me something to work towards. Being strong enough to punch through armor seemed like it was right up my alley. Overwhelming force was just my style.
Back in the arena, Eunike moved in closer to try and land another close-handed blow on Androk. I frowned. Her fist wasn't wrapped in shaped wind this time. That wasn't very considerate. How was I going to learn the ability if I didn't see her use it?
Her fist made contact and something cracked in Androk's armor. I hoped it wasn't bone, or this fight would be over rather quickly.
Androk let out a pained gasp and barred his teeth at the Galestalker. He spat at her. Then, he began swinging his axe after her with reckless abandon. He'd gotten past the point of caring about self-preservation and instead was focused on trying to force a draw.
Eunike danced backward from each chop, moving like a feather through the air. She used [Windstep] to exit when his axe head got too close for her comfort, but sent a quick jab into his throat as she went. It made contact and Androk made an ugly choking noise. It was not nearly as damaging as her last blow, but I couldn't have imagined it felt pleasant.
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She created the length of the arena in the distance between them and then turned around. She raised a hand with her palm flat and faced out in the universal sign for 'stop.' Then, she said only one word.
"Yield."
Androk stood still and thought about it. Blood from his arm dripped onto the floor of the arena. He slowly shook his head.
"No."
He raised his axe again. I expected it'd be more of the same sloppy and ineffective attempts at strikes, but then the dancing orange light of flame spilled out over the arena. The red gem set in the axe's center glowed brightly and its edge ignited with a trickle of flame. Whilst it was impressive, I had a hard time seeing what a little fire would do to Eunike.
What was notable was that it was an object used to channel the System. As far as I could tell, there was no natural source for the flames. I'd never seen one before and knew of few who had. It was rumored that Zeus' lightning bolt was one such artifact, but they were few and far between.
Eunike scoffed. "I thought I recognized that ugly rock. Is that one of Hyperion's little projects? He's still trying to recreate his prism?"
Androk didn't like what was being said about his fancy toy. I knew I didn't like the axe, but what Eunike said only confirmed it. Hyperion had a nasty reputation. He held the weapon up, a mixture of dismay and anger written on his face. His eyes were crazed.
"Hyperion has given me a weapon worthy of a god! You should fear it!"
"The only thing I'm afraid of is what that over-forged piece of jewelry will do to you before you're finished with it." She retorted. "Do you feel your nanites burning away? Do you want to know what it is to age again? And for what?"
Their conversation had gone far beyond my understanding, and also beyond the understanding of most of the crowd. Confused whispers began to replace their bloodthirsty shouts. No one was sure how to respond to what was being said down there.
Eunike sighed. "I'll give you one more chance. Yield."
The fire guttered red along the edge of the axe. It had taken on a darker, more sinister color. It no longer looked like the soft warm glow of a hearth. Androk had a single word for her.
"No."
"Careful what you wish for."
She darted forward faster than my eye could track, and her hands exploded into two balls of brilliant white light. It was next to impossible to see what she was doing. Androk also had a hard time following her movements, which is why he was so shocked when she made a chopping motion of her own. Her hand made contact with his wrist whilst its edge was glowing with an intensity greater than the axe. Crunch.
The bones in Androk's hand hadn't survived her blow. His wrist was no longer capable of moving, let alone holding an axe. It clattered to the floor. After a few seconds, its harsh red fire extinguished.
He stared at his hand in horror. He was frozen in place, transfixed on where the axe had been. Unmoving and unblinking. After a few seconds passed like that, Eunike clocked him over the head with the side of her elbow. Androk collapsed unconscious onto the ground.
Eunike nudged him a few times with her foot, but he didn't get back up. The man was out cold. Androk could count his lucky stars that an unpleasant headache and a few snapped bones were all that would happen to him.
"What happens now?" I asked Weiland. "Is she going to execute him?"
That got him to turn and look at me. I could see the disbelief in his features. My question had left him at a loss for words.
To my pleasant surprise, it was Eyes that answered. In his own way. He slowly shook his head with a big goofy grin on his face.
"He lost a ritual spar," Weiland sputtered. "That's not enough to condemn a man to death. Dishonor, maybe. He'll have to wait a long time to try and earn his wings again. No Galestalker'll take him seriously after this."
"Why's that?" I asked.
"He should've known when he was beaten. He was lucky that Eunike was feeling kind, as she wasn't required to try to give him a way out. He might be incapacitated, but I've seen a lot worse come out of this kind of thing. All in all, the day was almost peaceful."
It didn't feel peaceful to me. Shows what I know.
My attention was drawn back to the arena by the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat. Eunike addressed the room. Her tone was formal and measured and terse. It left no room for argument.
"As the administrator of this Trial of Worth, I declare it concluded in my favor. Does anyone object?"
She didn't wait for anyone to respond before she continued.
"No? Good. I'll be taking this." She reached down and picked up the axe, turned it over a couple of times in her hand, and then snapped the handle in half. It was metal, but that didn't prevent it from breaking like a twig.
"Some people just can't be trusted with dangerous things. May the skies preserve us."
Eunike threw the half that was just the handle aside. Then, she used [Windstep] to leave through a hole in the ceiling.
* * *
Back at Fletcher a few hours later, the three of us debriefed enthusiastically about the contents of the Trial. Most of the hall hadn't gone but still wanted to hear about it in some form or another. We were more than happy enough to oblige them and the evening fell away in pleasant conversation. After the third retelling, I realized there was a detail within it that I had no explanation for.
Why did Eunike break the axe?
The room was in the middle of talking about Ser Androk's considerable holdings to the west when I interrupted them. I was sure we could talk about whatever village he owned another time.
"Does anyone know why Eunike broke the axe?" I asked.
Phoebe hummed. She was slouched deep into an armchair in the shared common space.
"Might've been politics. Both of them could be representing different factions at a higher level than we're privy to. The action of breaking the axe could've been symbolic of her triumphing over Ser Androk, although that's in bad taste if it was as one-sided as you all say. I can't imagine the Empire has enough flaming weapons to throw one out."
On a gut level, I didn't feel like that was right. The Galestalker hadn't felt like the type who would showboat after a victory. She'd given him multiple opportunities to tap out early. If the fight had served to further a political agenda or make some point about her supremacy, I doubted she would've given him a chance.
One of my roommates, Kylen, had other thoughts on the matter.
"It's about faith," He rumbled. "Androk's words were dangerously close to blasphemy. By claiming that it was a weapon worthy of a god, Eunike was given free rein to destroy it."
I couldn't help but wonder: if a weapon was destroyed because someone claimed it was worthy of a god, what would happen to a person someone said the same about?
Then, he spoke in an impression of a wizened old man with the inflection of a member of the Temple Authority giving a sermon. "A man, as with all things, should not reach beyond his station! To do so will ensure that he is struck down with righteous and divine fury!"
The table we were seated at shook with his voice. Things got quiet. Kylen's face turned red with embarrassment.
"Or, at least that's what Flamen Alderisi always said."
A Flamen was the religious leader of a given Temple, and they could worship any of the gods of New Rome. Though, it was most often Zeus due to his role as the Eternal Emperor. Only devoted flocks had a Flamen. Lille hadn't had enough of the ardently faithful to need one. I supposed that Lobsterhead probably had its fair share, but I'd yet to see one.
"And who did Alderisi serve?" Weiland asked.
That was a good question. Whilst all of the temples of all of the gods in New Rome agreed that Zeus was supreme, not all of them had the same teachings. It wouldn't make sense for a community devoted to Faunus to exist within the capital, for instance. As a god associated with nature, his cults were often against cities on principle. Something about perverting the natural order.
It'd also give us an inkling of an idea about Eunike's motives. We could guesstimate something about divine machinations from her behavior.
Kylen sounded serious when he responded. "Alderisi walked the path of storms. I intend to one day do the same myself."
Okay, so he'd been a priest of Zeus. A garden-variety Flamen. Although I expected as much, there wasn't an answer that could tell us less. Kylen's words were intriguing, however. I wasn't sure how a boy who wanted to be a priest ended up in the Legion. Kylen hadn't taken a standard path to enter the service of the Temple.
"If you'd like to one day devote your life to the gods, why are you here?" I asked. "Surely there's a better way to go about it."
There was a fire in his eyes when Kylen responded. He looked like a man possessed.
"I can think of no better way to spread His word than at the edge of the sword."
I gulped.