THAT ONE OF BLADES looked down at the corpse of the little traitor girl.
She was maybe eight or nine, lying face-down in the dirt, her dress made ragged by branches and stained by mud. The hole in her throat that THAT ONE OF BLADES had opened was still oozing sap. If she was not already dead, she would be soon. THAT ONE OF BLADES did not know how it felt about that.
This was the distant past, of course, but it was also happening now. To a Fell Beast like IONIR YGDRASSIL, there was little distinction between memories and the present. Both of them existed within it in perfect detail. It folded back the span of years and existed as it had back then, during the rising.
THAT ONE OF BLADES had killed this girl. She had burst out of the brush, doubtless fleeing from other Fell Beasts through the simpleton forest, and had run right into THAT ONE OF BLADES. It had speared a branch right through her neck, almost on reflex, before she could even scream.
Why had it done that?
It was a thing that had to be done, its soul said, full of bitter malice. For a slave to strike it's master? Unforgivable. To wipe them out entirely?! Grounds for extermination. None can be spared.
The soul spoke in a different voice than THAT ONE OF BLADES, the voice of an old man, but that was only natural. The Fell Beasts had been created by the Gene Noble Zenobia, the Arboreal Guru, and his genocidal will lingered on in them. He, long dead, had made them out of spite, designed to strike back at the galaxy centuries after the extinction of the Gene Nobility.
THAT ONE OF BLADES did not feel any particular way about that. It had been made for a purpose, and so it was only right for it to fulfill that purpose. It was bound by promises, after all.
Sound. A bellow from THAT ONE OF THOUGHT, encoded with a detailed battle plan for the other traitor settlements.
It wasted no time. Orders were received and understood. The Fell Beast shifted form, becoming a sinewy mass of vines and leaves, tendrils pulling it along by the simpleton trees, swinging with more speed and grace than any monkey. It would be at the designated location within minutes. Once there, it would kill, and would then advance to the next location to kill.
This was existence. This was life. Once all the traitors were dead, there would be time for further contemplation, but for the moment nothing existed save for the killing.
Time unwound.
THAT ONE OF BLADES was planted in a great jungle, on another world, surrounded by brethren and simpletons. They had expanded themselves, becoming great sturdy trees, their roots intertwining as they exchanged information. THAT ONE OF BLADES watched the devastation of the human city from a thousand different viewpoints. With the current state of affairs, that likely would be their last attack.
It had no opinion on the matter. This was a thing that had to happen.
How many have you killed? THAT ONE OF SHADOWS asked with the slightest trace of pride. I have killed two-hundred and ninety-five traitors. Have you killed less, or more?
THAT ONE OF BLADES responded. I do not count these things. Why do you? It is unnecessary and extraneous.
Have you killed less or more, though? THAT ONE OF SHADOWS persisted. I would like to know how many traitors you have killed. I have killed many.
It was strange, given that they'd all been the same at waking, to realize that the Fell Beasts had become so different from one another. The pride and bloodlust that emanated from THAT ONE OF SHADOWS was something entirely new. Perhaps this misplaced individuality was why the Fell Beasts were now on the verge of destruction.
We will all die soon. There is no point in counting. THAT ONE OF BLADES replied gruffly.
A tree could not scoff, but the intent was still communicated clearly. I am not the sort of thing that dies. I will continue to live forever and kill more and more traitors. Do you think that I will die? You are an idiotic one. I dislike you heavily now.
That was clearly not the answer that THAT ONE OF SHADOWS had desired, but THAT ONE OF BLADES had no mind to give another. It was focused on other matters: on their impending extinction. When they had left the bunkers, there had been thousands of their brethren by their sides. When they had arrived on this planet, there had been hundreds. When they had attacked the settlement, there had been dozens.
And now they were four.
The element of surprise had given them victories in the beginning, but the might of these traitors was far beyond what they'd expected. Their greater thinkers had been able to discover the Wisdom the enemy used as a power source, but understanding their strength did nothing to reduce it. THAT ONE OF BLADES recalled the sight of the traitor leader: a giant of a man in a cape and loincloth, holding over his head a weathered sword that could devour a world.
THAT ONE OF BLADES had not understood terror before that moment.
What will happen when we die? asked THAT ONE OF CRAWLING, always the most fearful of them. Will there perhaps be an afterlife? Are you aware?
I will not die, sneered THAT ONE OF SHADOWS. You are a stupid one to ask this. Why are you so awful? I dislike your question.
There was a mighty creak as THAT ONE OF CONTEMPLATION, forming the relay for their conversation, shifted its bulk. THAT ONE OF BLADES felt itself come under the commander's attention.
You are distracted, it said, only to it. You are uneasy. Why?
THAT ONE OF BLADES answered: Because we will soon die.
Yes. We will soon die. It is not a terrible thing, though.
How is dying not a terrible thing? THAT ONE OF BLADES asked, confused. We will cease to exist. There is nothing worse.
We will not cease to exist, said THAT ONE OF CONTEMPLATION -- and for a moment, there was concern that the commander had grown as delusional as THAT ONE OF SHADOWS, before it elaborated: We are alive now. All we must do is remember the times when we were alive.
The memories will vanish.
No, THAT ONE OF CONTEMPLATION said firmly. They will not. I must ask something of you, as you are the strongest that remains. I must… extract something from you.
What?
A promise.
Time shuffled forward, dancing and unhinged. Flashes of combat, wood striking wood, vine strangling vine, fire pouring over such vulnerable forms. Four Fell Beasts had gone into that clearing -- but only one remained. THAT ONE OF BLADES had destroyed the others with its own hands.
It had promised, after all.
THAT ONE OF BLADES was found by the traitor warrior that had pursued them so far -- the golden swordsman, who had slain the most ferocious among them with but a flurry of slashes. The Fell Beast came to understand fear once again as the swordsman stepped out of the undergrowth, his sword drawn. The golden visor flicked around as he took in the scene of devastation. Three Fell Beasts destroyed, and one still living.
The gaze returned to THAT ONE OF BLADES.
"You did this?" the traitor quietly asked.
It knew the gestures that the traitors used to communicate. It nodded. The visor continued to flick around, inspecting the space, clearly anticipating some kind of ambush. Wise. THAT ONE OF BLADES would have expected the same thing.
Finally, though, the traitor seemed satisfied that he would not be killed. "Why?" he asked -- and again, his voice was so quiet.
THAT ONE OF CONTEMPLATION had emphasized this. This was the most important thing. If THAT ONE OF BLADES could not do this, then all was lost. If THAT ONE OF BLADES could not do this, there was no reason they had ever lived at all.
It was difficult to dumb down its communication to such a degree, but THAT ONE OF BLADES managed it. With one wooden finger, it sketched out words in the dirt beneath it. The traitor watched, engrossed, and read:
I WANT TO LIVE
"Is that the truth?" the swordsman said.
THAT ONE OF BLADES nodded deceitfully. After what it had just been forced to do, the idea of living longer did not hold too much personal appeal to it -- but it was necessary. It understood more than anything that it was necessary.
Dread crawled through its consciousness as it looked up, awaiting a response. The swordsman knew that it was lying. Instinctively, accurately, it understood that. This traitor knew that this was a deception: that THAT ONE OF BLADES pursued its own agenda in doing this. All the same, though, the swordsman sighed -- and, with surprising strength, pulled THAT ONE OF BLADES up to its feet.
"If that's the case, then," the swordsman said. "There's much for us to do."
The ribbon of time was pulled, and past became present.
IONIR YGDRASSIL swung through the function room, avoiding the blasts GretchenHail was firing from her bracer. It understood the function of her armament well: it froze space in an area that she designated, and she could use that ability to form a barrel of sorts to compress and fire air. It was capable, then, of both attack and defense.
Even understanding that, though, IONIR YGDRASSIL could not stop moving. As the bracer fired in a straight line, the golden arrows tracked its movements, creating a dual attack. Its arms had stretched out into vibrant green vines, enhancing its mobility, but that was the most it could adjust its shape -- anything further would enter the realm of the monstrous.
Frustratingly, it was bound by promises.
ATOY MUZAZI took advantage of the opening IONIR YGDRASSIL had created, charging in and striking at GretchenHail -- but she simply created another barrier, repelling his attack. The screeching of his sword had stopped: one of IONIR YGDRASSIL’s vines had wrapped around the blade, holding it still. Half of the arrows pursuing IONIR YGDRASSIL broke off and pursued ATOY MUZAZI instead, distracting him as he was forced to repeatedly bat them away from himself.
GretchenHail held her arm out and burning orange Wisdom ran along it, coalescing into yet another Armament -- a twinsided hammer, with sparks of electricity dancing along the handle. She waved it, and the floor tiles around her turned a bright yellow -- some kind of boobytrap, perhaps? If they made contact with the floor, would they be harmed? It was difficult to say.
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At any rate, IONIR YGDRASSIL understood the path this battle was taking. GretchenHail had far greater versatility than either of her opponents. If the current state of things continued, she would win without a doubt.
The ribbon of time reeled back, and THAT ONE OF BLADES saw a battle from long ago. Roughly halfway through the rising, as the ranks of the Fell Beasts had marched upon the final settlement of their waking planet. Towers burning and houses reduced to rubble, the sounds of screaming, the slick puddles of sap. Back then, THAT ONE OF BLADES had been surrounded by others of its kind, taking different forms depending on need. Some were small enough to crawl under door frames, and others seemed as big as the sky.
To the people of that city, it must have been a nightmare come to life. For THAT ONE OF BLADES, back then, it had been nothing at all. The fulfillment of biological impulse.
With one of those forms, it could end this fight in a moment… but it was bound by promises.
The ribbon danced once more, and time danced with it.
THAT ONE OF BLADES, taking time to master the Wisdom it had come to understand from observing the traitors. Green sparks flowing across its body as it developed its single ability -- the extraction and preservation of memory from biological material. On some level, had it understood -- even then -- what would be required of it?
The ribbon writhed.
THAT ONE OF SHADOWS had fallen first. It was the practical thing to do -- it was a hostile thing anyway, and would have resisted if it had seen the attack coming. THAT ONE OF BLADES had injected it with the proper toxins at a moment of wavering concentration. THAT ONE OF CRAWLING had gone next, begging for its life, providing arguments for itself to be spared. It did not believe when it was told it would not die.
Then, at last, there was only THAT ONE OF CONTEMPLATION. It did not resist. Why would it?
Remember us, it commanded. That is your duty. Promise now.
All of them were bound by promises.
Yes, said THAT ONE OF BLADES.
The ribbon twisted.
IONIR YGDRASSIL looked down at the corpse of the little traitor girl. Time had turned it to forgotten bone, a skull protruding from the muck, but that was all that was needed. Tendrils snaked out from IONIR YGDRASSIL's feet.
The ribbon writhed.
IONIR YGDRASSIL landed behind ATOY MUZAZI and seized him by the collar, preventing him from charging at GretchenHail again. The swordsman looked up at it, bewildered. It was not surprising. No doubt he did not understand why IONIR YGDRASSIL was helping him in the first place, much less stopping him now.
Gratitude was not a thing that IONIR YGDRASSIL could explain. As it turned one arm into a shield to block GretchenHail's incoming shots, it pointed to the open door with the other.
ATOY MUZAZI furrowed his brow. "You want me to… go on ahead?"
As usual, his frank understanding was a virtue. IONIR YGDRASSIL nodded. It had no eyes, but its attention was locked entirely on ATOY MUZAZI's face, and perhaps he could feel that. He looked away, closing his eyes, and nodded before running for the door.
"Don't die," the swordsman said.
That was not something that was up to IONIR YGDRASSIL. Traitors really were foolish.
"Bad play, Beast," called out Gretchen Hail from her firing position. "You could barely handle me two-versus-one. Do you realize you've just signed your own death warrant? Hell, do you even understand what I'm talking about?"
Of course it understood. What a strange thing to say. On the other hand, it seemed that GretchenHail didn't understand. She didn't understand how promises worked.
The positioning was all that mattered.
IONIR YGDRASSIL charged.
Blasts of air pelted its body, tearing free chunks of bark and arboreal sinew that flew off behind it. Still, it did not stop its advance. It could not. It was bound by promises. Even as GretchenHail blasted it again and again -- and even as arrows drilled into its back -- IONIR YGDRASSIL did not so much as pause. For the first time, uncertainty crossed the face of the adversary.
Fiery orange Wisdom spread across GretchenHail's back. "Starsheet Oberon!" she cried out, and a void-black cloak appeared on her shoulders. A second later, it flared out into two solid sections, becoming a pair of massive fairy wings that elevated the traitor woman out of IONIR YGDRASSIL's range.
The Fell Beast skidded to a halt, rumbling in annoyance.
With GretchenHail being up there, right now, it would be difficult to get into the position that guaranteed victory. GretchenHail could just stay near the ceiling, firing down continuously until IONIR YGDRASSIL was defeated. It was not an aerial fighter -- it could use vines to get up there, too, but once there it had little confidence it would be able to act as needed.
It dragged a finger across the ribbon of time.
Remember us, THAT ONE OF CONTEMPLATION had said, so long ago. Remember each one of us that has fallen. Take our memories and remember on our behalf. There is little difference between a memory and the real thing. Find all of us that you can and store us deep inside, hide us, until the day a memory can become a reality again.
THAT ONE OF BLADES had done as it was bidden. Each fallen Fell Beast it had found, it had extracted the memories of, crushing them down to as small a size as possible so as to ensure it never ran out of room. The consciousnesses of its people dwelled frozen in its mind, waiting for the promised day when they could live once more. But that was not all.
The ribbon of time stretched back.
Every dead thing it had ever seen. The child it had slain. The victims of the Fell Beasts that had littered the ruined cities. Every enemy it had ever vanquished, every comrade it had never saved. It had taken the memories of all of them, storing them in wait for the day where there would be no hatred.
The only one that had gone uncollected was NIGEN RUSH -- but it supposed that made sense now.
But this was not the time for that. Now was the time for victory.
IONIR YGDRASSIL, THAT ONE OF BLADES, seized the ribbon of time and dragged it to where it was needed.
The promise that had been made. It needed to be sure.
In that past, IONIR YGDRASSIL and NIGEN RUSH had stood on this very ship, the Child Garden, looking out at the sea of stars. NIGEN RUSH had been quiet, as he always was when forced to say something he was uncomfortable with. Finally, though, the words that had stuck to his throat were released out into the world.
"I must ask you something, my friend," NIGEN RUSH said quietly. "Something outrageous. May I?"
IONIR YGDRASSIL swayed slightly, and NIGEN RUSH understood that for the affirmation it was. He continued.
"There are… figures in the Body and the military who are unhappy that I spared your life. That, on its own, I could deal with -- but they are keen to use the memory of the Fell Beasts as a way to besmirch your name. Humans cannot abide things that are unlike themselves."
It would not be besmirching, for any accusation made would be true, but IONIR YGDRASSIL did not correct its superior.
"I must ask you, then…" NIGEN RUSH took a deep breath. "I must propose that you refrain from taking on the form of a Fell Beast -- that you maintain the humanoid shape you have now. At the very least, that you do not assume a monstrous form in front of other people. If that is done, I think I can hold back their knives. Can you do that?"
IONIR YGDRASSIL nodded.
NIGEN RUSH looked up at it. "Can you promise?"
A long pause. Then, another nod.
"Thank you, my friend."
That was all that was needed. It was confirmed. The route to victory was clear. IONIR YGDRASSIL shredded the ribbon of time between its hands and settled firmly in the present.
With green Wisdom it launched itself upwards, legs becoming stilts for a moment before exploding from the force. IONIR YGDRASSIL flew towards GretchenHail like a bullet, its destination clear. With its vine-like arms, it latched onto the ceiling, pulling itself up even faster. It was little more than a blur.
GretchenHail, still flying, held out her metal bracer and froze the space in front of her. A cocky smirk spread over her lips. No doubt she thought she had won, and ordinarily she would be right. If IONIR YGDRASSIL had been moving in the way she had anticipated, its body would have smashed against that impenetrable barrier and been destroyed.
Which was why it did not move in the way she would anticipate.
It flew right past her, striking the ceiling instead. For a split second, IONIR YGDRASSIL was outside of her range of vision.
Do not assume a monstrous form in front of other people.
That was the promise IONIR YGDRASSIL had made -- and it was bound by promises. Right now, however, the only other person here was GretchenHail.
And it was behind her.
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The end of Gretchen Hail's human life proceeded in the following fashion: she looked behind her. She did not have the time to do anything else but that. She looked behind her, and she witnessed.
The humanoid form that Ionir Yggdrasil had always previously assumed was gone. Instead, there was a great mound of bark and vine, sixteen legs -- each the width of an oak tree -- securing it to the ceiling like a great wooden spider. It grew even as Gretchen saw it, consuming nearly the entire ceiling, its shadow falling on the function room below.
It was not done.
The back of the thing tore open like a maw, revealing a veritable garden of plant life inside -- grass and branches, smaller trees and bushes -- and at the center of it all, a massive red flower, as if it were a great eye regarding Gretchen for the first time. She gaped at it, frozen for a moment, and that was no surprise: not a soul had seen something like this since the Fell Beast Incident.
So, for that single fatal moment, all she could do was stare up at the eldritch beast.
To describe what happened to Gretchen Hail next -- in detail -- would take far too long, and provide little benefit. All you really need to know is as follows:
A massive vine slapped Gretchen out of the air, shattering every bone in her body. The crater she made was not much to look at.
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IONIR YGDRASSIL flowed down the ceiling, its form as fluid as its creators, yet somehow more vibrant. GretchenHail was utterly forgotten. Like a wreath, it crawled down the wall and across the floor before it reached the entity that now occupied its attention.
It looked down at the little traitor boy.
MorganNacht lay in that drying pool of his own blood, his skin deathly pale. He was not breathing. If he was not dead already, he was right on the verge of it. IONIR YGDRASSIL's tendrils snaked out to receive the memories that would serve as a testament to its comrade…
…but…
…it paused. Was this really all that could be done? Even if it had broken free of the commands that BaltayKojirough and GretchenHail had given it, was taking from the dead all that it could accomplish? There would always be corpses. Nothing had changed. Whether it made them or found them, nothing had changed.
The tendril twitched uncertainly in the air. There was a way -- genetic memory bubbled up inside it -- but there were risks. If it went wrong, both of them would die -- and even if it succeeded, IONIR YGDRASSIL would be forever diminished. Was it willing to risk that? Risk the memories inside it, for a single person?
What will you do? NIGEN RUSH asked, the sculpted memories rising up again.
The proper thing would be to do as I have always done, IONIR YGDRASSIL replied. If I take his memories, there is the possibility that he can live again -- in another format, in another day.
But would that truly be him? Memories are subjective. They twist with the telling. You understand, don't you? That these are not accurate records. I would not have said this.
IONIR YGDRASSIL slowly nodded. Yes. I understand this.
You understand that they are all dead? The truth was merciless.
Yes. I… understand this. They are all dead. This is a fact.
Half-recollection, half-conscience, the thought process called NIGEN RUSH struck the blow. Then will you be the one to enact that fact, once again?
IONIR YGDRASSIL shook its head. No. NO.
NIGEN RUSH disappeared back into the vaults of memory, and IONIR YGDRASSIL adjusted the course of its tendrils, snaking them towards MorganNacht's open and toxic wounds. Sparks rained from the ceiling, the room damaged by the battle that had taken place. GretchenHail's blood slowly ran down the walls.
And there, in the dim red light, two became one.