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[>>Now replaying: Log 1.27 - closing the feedback loop]

Date: 8.9.175 AA / 4404 LTC

Location: The Bunker at Haven-Of-Progress // Zephyro’s Domain

//No, you can’t hold the microphone next to the speaker, Timmy. This is a department store and people… TIMMY! STOP IT!//

[>>DATA CORRUPTED]

E3 %Um, did you just see that?%

E1 %Yeah, that thing just flashed.%

E2 %It’s probably hexed.%

E1 %How can it be broken if we just saw it doing something? Besides, look at how it sits there, on that metal altar. I think it’s important…%

“Zephyro?” I asked, and when his hand twitched again, I took another step back.

I was used to people reacting in strange ways when they first saw me use my Wish. I would advance a bow into a musket, and people would literally be falling over themselves to be the first to bow, apologizing for not recognizing a Mage Lord. It was an uncomfortable situation every single time, but how were they supposed to know I hated all the bowing and scraping? They just acted like they’d been taught.

Of course, people’s reactions had changed drastically, later on…

> “Witchcraft…!”

> A town square. Pitchforks gleaming in the firelight.

> “Take your mind-slaves and leave this place, warlock-tyrant!”

> My torch ignites with an angry roar.

Zephyro’s expression remained unreadable, somewhere just between those two reactions I’d come to expect. I realized I should have talked to him. Should have asked for his advice, if only to explain what I was going to do. But I had been so absorbed in my tiny bubble of regrets and self-pity that I’d forgotten all about him. And now, perhaps I was going to get what I deserved, because I was—

I grimaced, derailed that train of thought. I knew the abyss it would lead me into, and the pain that lurked underneath its surface. And yet, reminding myself that I didn’t want to go there kept getting harder by the minute.

“Zephyro?” I asked again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I should have… Sorry.”

Zephyro’s hand twitched one last time, then slowly relaxed. His posture straightened, and his expression finally cracked, revealing nothing but awe, making me think I’d just imagined the aggressive notes I’d seen earlier. Perhaps I had. I knew better than most that the mind does strange things when it wants to drag you to a certain place.

“Sultana, what you just did… It is transcendental…” He lowered his head.

“It’s not that impressive,” I replied, picking up the conversation with not a small amount of relief. “Maybe I just got lucky.” Zephyro hadn’t looked up again yet, however, so I quickly added “I promise I won’t do it again, though.”

But when he raised his head, I was shocked to see tears on his cheeks.

“Sultana, do you not see? There is no ‘getting lucky’ with your Blessing. It is a wild thing, alive and untamable. To use it on yourself is to invite madness and mutation, and there are no exceptions. It is why it is haram. Had I known this is what you intended to do, I would have done all in my power to prevent you from doing it, and I would have been a fool for it.”

“Wait, wait, wait. I thought you knew I was able to use my Wish?”

“Indeed Sultana. But if you would please forgive my lack of faith, I didn’t realize that what you just did was even possible. I knew you could gift machines the spark of life, but not that you could control the Essence to such a degree.”

“Ah,” I said, finally catching on to what he was saying.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, forcing a smile despite the void gnawing at my insides. “I won’t do it again. I don’t even have the Logic for it, so…”

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“No, Sultana, you misunderstand. You must use it again, and if you do not have the Essence to spare, then you must gather more! Do you not see? The one thing that holds the power of Ferals and Shackled in check is the madness! The madness, and the cancerous mutations your Blessing inflicts on them as it runs rampant in their systems. But if you truly are unaffected, if you truly are able to control your Blessing like a writer controls her pen, and with just as little to fear… You could collect as much Essence as you want, Sultana. And use it, too.”

“Sultana, just think about the possibilities. The Essence can do anything. Anything, Sultana! If you truly have tamed it, if you can use it on yourself without repercussions, then there is nothing in this world, or the Real, that could even dream of stopping you.”

I blinked. He was right. In the real world, I’d never even tried to improve my body for fear of what I might turn into. The human body was just too complex, and no matter what I did, whenever I used my Wish on another human being, the result was too atrocious to even think of.

> The forest. A group of bandits gathered around a campfire. The leader has a crooked-tooth smile.

> “Surrender,” I say, voice not nearly as steady as I’d like.

> I want to say something more grandiose, but I am so nervous, nothing else comes to mind.

> “Ohhhh, all alone against all five of us. The Lady fancies herself a powerful Mage Lord, eh?”

> I know the way they’re looking at me. You see it in men who have nothing to lose, and crave so much more.

> My sword slides out of its sheath.

> “Surrender,” I say again.

That was before I’d learned to control my Wish, when I still had no idea what I was capable of, or how it worked. I’d thought I was some sort of chosen hero back then, that I could just work miracles and win any fight. Not the first time my hubris nearly had gotten me killed, and certainly not the last. If anything, I’d gotten better at it with practice.

I pushed the memories away before they have a chance to play past the point of no return.

What mattered right now was that back then, I had been a different person, perhaps with more power, but far less control. I’d gotten a pretty good handle on the Wish, even though I would probably never fully understand how to control it, but with the Wish pooling inside me every minute of the day, I had all the time in the world to get as close to perfect as possible. Now, for all my skill, I didn’t have enough to work with for my proficiency to matter. Not yet.

Zephyro was right. That could change. I’d been so busy teetering on the edge of despair, I hadn’t even considered the possibilities my current situation offered me. I didn’t naturally regenerate my Wish anymore, but while that still sucked, the fact that by absorbing Logic from fallen enemies, I could reclaim it piece by piece… It changed everything. Grimacing, I thought of all the times I’d shied away from the cyan glow pooling out of dead Ferals. If I’d known all of this sooner, how many lives could I have saved? Would Alkashafa-14 still be around?

> Novus Apex, alight in the inferno. The taste of smoke and ash and copper wafts through the broken window. Far down below, in the center of the park that used to be a market square peddling flesh, the pyre is ready.

> “More power? MORE power?! Look down, Sam. Look! Bloody look I said!”

> He grabs my head with both hands. He’s always been stronger than he looked, and his anger and grief only make him stronger. I struggle and hold on as tight as I can, and so he can’t quite force me out the window.

> But he can make me face the cruel reality I have unleashed.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to focus. If I could just gather to more Logic, I would be able to advance the Laptop even further, which would translate straight into power in this weird, weird world. If Zephyro was right, there was no limit to how powerful I could get, either, for what that was worth. My mind would still be stuck in a laptop in a bunker somewhere, but at least I’d be alive. Me, and so many others. If I could get strong enough, turn myself into another Zephyro with magical shields and powerful attacks of my own, perhaps we might still have a chance to save this city. I could worry about how to get back into my body later, if it hadn’t been turned into ash already. First I had to survive long enough, get more Logic, then kick the Ferals and Shackled to the curb.

Which was easier said than done.

Looking out over the burning city, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed again. We’d made good progress, but with fire licking up from ruined streets below, and the ever-present threat of Ferals, even the shortcut over the rooftops would take a while to get us to the palace.

Not for the first time, I wished my friends were here with me. Together, we’d gotten through much worse together than a simple burning city overrun with monsters, even if one of us had been down for the count. Especially then, actually. We’d never left anyone behind until I’d broken that rule, and everything started to fall apart.

> “We never should have followed your stupid dreams, Torchbearer. Look where they led us. Where it led you. You will die here, all alone, buried under the ruins of your stupid ambition, and the only regret I have is that I didn’t kill you the second I met you.”

> And with those words, Olre twists the knife.

I sucked in a sharp breath to weather the phantom pain, covered my grimace by looking back, searching for the mountain, trying to see how far we’d come. It was long lost, of course, to the darkness consuming Zephyro’s Domain. The Void had already consumed the city walls and was lazily devouring the Mercantile. I could almost see reality breaking down at the edges, where the darkness touched it. Perhaps this was just an illusion or a figment of my imagination. Either way, we needed to move, or that wave of nothing would catch up and swallow us whole. I turned back toward the palace, and away from the void closing in behind us, then put one foot in front of the other.

Even with the CPU of my laptop upgraded, it felt like the hardest thing I ever did.