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[>>Now replaying: Log 1.64.19 - Executrix]

Date: 8.9.175 AA / 4404 LTC

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

//Ideas are worthless. Execution is everything.//

///%)=( instruction cycle (also known as the fetch–decode–execute cycle, or simply the fetch-execute cycle) is the cycle that the central processing unit (CPU) follows from boot-up untilö73%//

[>>DATA CORRUPTED]

E3 %…You mean the Reclamation Wars?%

E1 %Yeah, Tin. You know about them?%

E3 %It’s that war that the Cities waged over The Path, right? About who gets to claim the upper reaches, close to the Cursed City?%

E2 %I mean that’s true, I’m just surprised you know about the Reclamation Wars, but not the Torchbearer.%

E3 %Of course I know about the Torchbearer. Everyone does. I just don’t know the story. And I never will if you guys don’t stop interrupting each other!%

I watched the undulating spire of flesh and metal shift and warp. At first, I was worried the change would be over in a flash, but apparently, it needed time to shift its mass, or use the Logic, or whatever it was doing. We still had a bit of time.

“Let’s kill it,” I said.

“Oh hell yeah,” Shellslinger said, grinning. “Let’s get ourselves a World First.”

I wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic about the prospect of fighting that thing. It was taller than the Palace.

Images of Veltruvia flashed in my mind.

> “Our western flank, Saint Samantha!! They have Hexbreakers, and they’re gaining ground!”

The memories made me relive the guilt of sending women and men to their deaths.

> The shriek of boosters engaging, breaking me free from the mud that is clutching my boots

They made me remember the rush of victory.

> “It’s the Torchbearer! Oh Lords have mercy, it’s her! She’s here!”

The grim satisfaction of being feared and respected.

> “We have drawn her out! Hold fast, men! Hold her as long as you can!”

Being annoyed at myself for falling for their trap.

> My antithaumic shielding yawns to life as my armor rises from its slumber, casually deflecting countless projectiles and breaking its fast on swords and axes.

The terror of seeing Stax there with me. Why was he there?

> “They just attacked, betrayed our trust. For this, they will pay. Still, I fear for you. You should not be here.”

> “Calm your cutlass, Stax. It’ll be okay.”

> “I don’t like this. Not at all. They have— Oh hex! SAM, GET DOWN!”

Why did he have to do something that stupid? I would have survived it.

> Ash all around me, warning icons flashing in my helmet, soot covering my Torch. Stax’s armor, halfway molten and merged with his flesh despite the thermic substrata shielding. His eyes, so deep, so blue, still dancing despite the pain.

> A hateful voice cuts through the moment like a mortician’s scalpel.

> “The witch is still alive! Fire! Fire for all you’re worth, this is where she dies!”

And there it was.

The anger.

Endless, boundless, hopeless anger.

> “…who is the wielder, and who is the weapon, Sam?”

I remembered screaming, vowing vengeance.

> Stax’s body twitches as thousands of arrows descend upon us like a funeral shroud.

Things never were the same after that day.

It felt like the old Sam had died on that battlefield, and the anger had taken over the corpse.

A necessary act of vengeful necromancy, or so I told myself.

It was the beginning of the end.

After the battle had been over, I’d walked straight through the closed city gates and killed anything that moved. I’d walked the boulevard, leaving fire and destruction in my wake. I’d walked to the throne room, and my anger had kept me inoculated against the petty mind tricks the Mages threw at me. I’d walked, always straight, never stopped, never hesitated until my Torch had molten her heart and set her empire aflame.

I’d walked straight into our doom.

That night, I’d lost all of my friends, even if I didn’t know it yet. They had trusted me, and their safety had been my responsibility. Controlled by my anger, I had failed them all.

I took a shuddering breath, eying Zephyro and Shellslinger. Despite only knowing them for such a short time, they reminded me of my friends, even though they were obviously different people. A little bit of Underbrook and Patti in Zephyro, a little bit of Iruli and Dezin in the elf. It felt so dangerous. What if they became more than strangers?

What if they already had?

My breath stuck in my throat, and as if by instinct I tried to find things that would prove these people were not my friends, reasons to hate them, just a little so that I wouldn’t feel as bad when I inevitably lost them.

For the first time in a long while, I became aware of the lonely abyss that lurked inside of me, and that red-hot threat that held me dangling over it. If I stopped lacing more and more strands into that rope, how soon would it snap?

And what if there’d be someone to catch me? Someone who relied on me to keep them safe?

I wrenched myself out of the thought spiral. I couldn’t worry about calling in the Old Guard. If we didn’t kill the abomination that had been the snake, either the Ferals or the Shackled would storm the bunker, and everyone inside would be dead or worse anyway, including the Old Guard and myself.

I needed to do this. The only other option was death, or worse, being alone again.

“Chris, can you give me a tally of what I need?”

Beep!

[SAINTECH Alpha 4 1800X 1-Core Processor: REQUIRES 60 LB]

[SAINTECH Alpha 8 2000X 1-Core Processor}: REQUIRES 90 LB]

[SAINTECH Beta 1 1200X 2-Core Processor}: REQUIRES 300 LB]

[SUM: 450 LB]

[TOTAL SUM: 450 LB]

[SAINTECH DPM v.9//Samantha_v1:]

[Digital Personality Matrix partially corrupted. (62% integrity.)]

[Would you like to repair “Samantha_v1”?]

[Requires 65 LB]

[Sum: 65 LB]

[Total Sum: 515 LB]

[remote_access_array_alpha_001.exe]

[>>No viable updates found.]

[>>Manual upgrade required.]

{//Oh little savior,//}

{//You are never as alone as you think.// }

[Sum: UNAV{300 LB}BLE]

[Total Sum: 815 LB]

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 498 LB}

[Difference: -317]

“Damn,” I muttered as I struggled through the headache.

At a kingly 815 LB, this upgrade better be worth it.

The darkness had come closer at a steady pace, and licking at the edges of the parade grounds. Disturbingly, while the void proceeded to slowly immerse the Feral abomination in shadow, its mouths and eyes remained visible, staring out of the dark. Occasionally, they glimmered red and blue, betraying its true size.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“I don’t want to rush you or anything, but while I love to chat, we don’t have an infinite amount of time here,” Shellslinger said, eying the pathways to the plaza. “Let’s get the teleporting over with and move on to the killing.”

“I can’t,” I said with a hint of irritation. “My CPU isn’t strong enough to handle the amount of people I need to summon.”

“Well then, we are totally screwed, right? Damn, I was really looking forward to that loot.”

“What? No. I just need to kill a couple more Ferals, first.”

“Oh, come on, is this really the time to renegotiate?” Shellslinger asked with a sigh. “I mean, I appreciate the commitment to the craft as much as the next guy, but that’s kinda low.”

“What are you even…” Then I groaned. From his point, it must have looked like I was keeping the situation hostage. “Listen, after the stunt you pulled with the “loot”, I’m short 300-something Logic. Otherwise, I would already have your friends here and we’d be shaking hands on a job well done.”

He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, that’s a good one. What were you going to do? Find a merchant, trade the loot in for gold, and buy a bunch of teleportation scrolls? Or no, wait. Maybe you were just going to craft them yourself. Out of what, though? Logic and willpower?!”

“Actually, yes,” I said, eyes narrowing. I didn’t particularly like it when people questioned my skills at the best of times, and I wasn’t even remotely having the best of times. Still, the misunderstanding was partially my fault.

Shellslinger laughed, but it didn’t sound arrogant, just skeptical. “Oh, come on. That’s impossible, and you know it. Francois was very clear on that.”

> “I am going to go to their damn capital and convince the Emperor to get me on the council, and then I am going to wipe their smug grins off of their faces.”

> Patti tilts her head, smiling. I know she likes it when I get passionate because she can feel everything I do, but she’s also worried. She keeps telling me that my passion isn’t “pure” whatever that means. That I am too bitter or whatever. But I just am like I am. Nothing I can do about it.

> “I like the first part,” she says in her tiny birdsong voice. “But I worry about the second. Why take revenge and risk everything? Is that the kind of person you want to be?”

The memory faded, taking with it the nervous twitch in my brows. “Zephyro, any Shackled nearby I need to worry about?” I asked.

He gave a reluctant shake of his head. “Not to my knowledge, Sultana, but I can not be certain.”

“Good enough,” I said, and after closing my eyes, I inhaled and reached for the Logic brimming inside of me. Focusing on the readout still stuck in my mind like a kernel between teeth, I willed the power to take shape.

> “Ah, so this is the Sam you were hiding down there…”

For a second, I thought I lost focus and screwed it up. There was no stopping my exhalation, my breath stuttering as Patti’s face flashed in my mind, endlessly forgiving, endlessly kind. Even so, or maybe precisely because of it, I got what I wished for.

{CONSUMED LOGIC - 60 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 428 LB}

{SAINTECH Alpha 2 1400X 1-Core Processor (Tier 0, MID)

IS NOW

SAINTECH Alpha 4 1800X 1-Core Processor (Tier 0, HIGH)}

The bell sounded clear this time, powerful and radiant, but there was something dissonant about its reverberations, as if it couldn’t decide what sound to send into the world.

It washed over us all as the Logic flashed around my head and heart like an ephemeral halo. Unfortunately, it also caused all the eyes that dominated the voidspire to stare right at me.

“Huh,” Shellslinger said, sounding impressed like I’d just downed three shots at once at an after-work pub crawl. “I take everything back. You can actually craft stuff out of Logic.”

He shook his head, both resigned and amused. “Man, that’s broken.” Then he lowered his voice to a whisper he thought we couldn’t hear and addressed his axe. “You do realize this means war, right? … No, you definitely could have told me she can do that. You’re never getting out of that sheath ever again.”

Zephyro and I looked at each other, and we silently agreed to just not talk about it.

“We seem to have gotten its attention, Sultana,” the Vizier said instead, motioning at the thing that had eaten the spire.

“Yep,” I said with a grimace. “And I still have several more upgrades to go.”

“This is most unfortunate, Sultana. Surely, the Ferals will soon swarm this place.”

“Yep,” I said again. “Also, I need to be strong enough to fight them. If I’m not, I won’t ever get enough Logic to upgrade the array.”

“Ah, Sultana, I don’t suppose you would allow the Old Guard to fight in your stead? I understand getting them here will tax you greatly, but surely, if you were to invite the Guard first, you could rely on them to supply you with more Essence…”

I thought back to Veltruvia, to all the corpses wearing my colors, to the last memory of so many faces I had to leave behind. “No, Zephyro. I won’t let them fight without me. I can’t.”

“I am sure that in your wisdom, you understand I merely want to keep you safe, Sultana…”

“I know, Zephyro. Believe me. But the thing is, if I don’t upgrade my CPU to a level that can handle connecting to dozens of people at once, I will be absolutely defenseless. They would have to carry me through the battlefield on a stretcher so I could claim more Logic. No, this is the only way, and killing two birds with one stone to boot.”

The Vizier grimaced, but ultimately, he nodded, and I took a deep breath, repeating the upgrade.

{CONSUMED LOGIC - 90 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 348 LB}

{SAINTECH Alpha 4 1800X 1-Core Processor (Tier 0, HIGH)

IS NOW

SAINTECH Alpha 8 2000X 1-Core Processor} (Tier 0, PRO)}

If the bell sounded warbled and insecure before, now it stormed through the plaza with furious determination. Just a short, concentrated blast of sound that made Zephyro stagger and Shellslinger cover his face to protect himself from flying debris.

Up in the endless night skies, countless mouths moaned their desire, and wide-tongued eyes twitched with rapacious bliss.

Then, as if on cue, the Ferals came.

Their eyes gleamed red in blind windows, their paws treaded whispers on broken cobbles. Their deformed bodies leaned over crumbling balustrades, and their laughing shadows snuck through defeated arches. First they were few, then they were many, then they poured out of dead ends, legion.

I grasped Pharus, my fingers flexing on the hilt. My anger told me I could take them. It caressed my face until my cheeks burned hot, purring that I was powerful enough. But I didn’t give in.

It didn’t like that, but I ignored it.

I tilted my head at the oncoming horde and noticed something odd, like a strange aftertaste in your water. Yes, I wasn’t imagining it. The comforting weight of my Torch, the fires roaring in their cage, the reassuring touch of my armor, everything had gotten just a little bit lighter.

Or perhaps I had just gotten a little bit stronger.

{CPU Load: ▼ 37%}

{Core Temp: ▼ 79° C}

[

>>Currently connected array endpoints:

1) Shellslinger (6% CPU load)

]

Still, looking at the oncoming horde, I wondered if it would be enough.

I told Zephyro as much, and he cursed something in Arabic.

To his left, Shellslinger joined him, rifle in hand, aiming down the plaza and taking raven-powered potshots at the approaching tide.

“Okay, I know you want to get in on the fight and secure your loot,” the Old Guard said between screeching blasts. “But this is definitely a raid for 20 to 40 people, and we don’t even have a tank or a healer.”

I turned to him, a weak smirk on my lips. “You only want your loot.”

He shrugged, fired, aimed, then fired again. “I mean, doesn’t everyone? I’m not trying to renege here. Just make sure you know my terms. One item from the boss for you, all others for the guild. All other drops are shared equally according to group size.”

“Still feels like extortion,” I grumbled, even though the reason I hesitated was a different one.

“Hey look, I didn’t aggro the boss, that was all you,” Shellslinger said with a grin, while casually double-tapping a Feral with two raven-blasts. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Sultana?” Zephyro said, calm and collected as always. Despite everything, he was still smiling, as if he knew something about me that I didn’t. Whatever it was, it convinced him I was actually worth it all.

In short, he looked at me as if I wouldn’t ruin him, too.

It would be so easy to prove him wrong, unthinkable to prove him right.

> “Who do you want to be, Sam?”

I don’t know. I just don’t want to lose people anymore.

At that moment, something moved behind Zephyro, large and slick and dangerous. Blissfully, my instincts took over just in time.

With a roar, I pushed Zephyro out of the way and sent Pharus flying. The chain cut through the air like a reaper’s sickle cuts the night. With an explosion of teal flames, the censer impacted a tall humanoid figure. It was made entirely of something that looked like oil and loomed in the middle of a swarm of spiders and rats and snakes. My teal flames spread hungrily, setting the creature ablaze.

It howled an unwound-cassette plea but did not stop its shambling advance.

The Shellslinger didn’t waste a second, rolled out of the way, and took aim. Then he sent a raven straight into the oily shape’s chest. Unlike what I was expecting, the projectile didn’t explode on impact but instead formed a swirling black hole, which drew all creatures in a wide radius off their feet. The creatures screeched and snarled and screamed, creating a cacophony of technology as they were crushed together in the center of the dark globe.

“Hit it!” the Guard yelled, and Zephyro raised his sword, bringing it down in one mighty swing. It extended into a giant sickle, gleaming moonlight-white. It was easily five times as tall as the Vizier, and when it fell on our enemies, time slowed.

Cold fire spread from its edge as it reached the impact point, building in intensity for a breathless moment. Then the blade touched the center of the black hole, and the world went white.

I staggered backward, shielding my face with my hands. It was so bright, I could see their outlines through my closed eyelids.

> So loud. So bright. Only Stax’s blue eyes remain, dancing in a white void to a sound only he can hear.

Zephyro’s finishing blow had completely devastated the area around where the black hole had been, left it bare of enemies, and bathed in Logic.

With my ears still ringing, I blinked the lights dancing in front of my eyes away. The image of Stax’s eyes remained seared in my mind, however, as if he were still lying there in the middle of the crater created by our combined attack.

I panted, looked up, expecting arrows to rain down any second. Something warm and dusty pressed against my back.

“Sultana? What is the matter?”

With a violent start, I realized I had thrown myself in front of the Vizier. Why? I’d gotten way too close, despite my better judgment. Something landed on my shoulder, as light and hesitant as a bird. I jerked away. Zephyro’s hand, I realized.

“Heads up, I can’t do that again for a minute, and we got incoming,” I heard the elf say as I watched my mind disassemble itself with distant curiosity.

I nodded slowly, eyes not leaving the crater. A whine built in my ear, and I barely registered that the Old Guard said something else. When I didn’t answer, he scooped up his share of the loot. He might have even left me more than usual, but I didn’t care, wasn’t all there, still thousands of miles and a hundred and fifty-two years away, in Veltruvia.

Zephyro’s face came into focus as the ringing in my ears faded and his obvious concern made me slowly pull myself together. Veltruvia still held my mind hostage, fought to keep me there, invited me to think about all the things I could have done, should have done better, so that it would never happen again.

“Go,” I said tonelessly. “Buy me some time.”

Without a further word, the two men fell into a sprint, heading for the edge of the crater we had wrought. The Ferals were already pouring in again like dark water into an empty bowl. They had begun to feast on the remnants of their fallen brothers, desperately funneling any Logic they could find to their chthonic master.

I only had eyes for the crater. The moon shone above, bathing it in red and white.

> On my bloodied, singed, and reeling return from that blissful first dose of vengeance, speckles of red sway amidst the white fletching covering the crater.

> Poppies, growing in a lake of so many lilies.

My anger rose, just as it had back then. It urged me to keep going, to fight, to get the Logic, to survive, but it was a distant buzzing now. I just wanted to lie in that crater and somehow make the past right.

> The song is over.

> Stax’s eyes have stopped dancing.

> Just crows are left, cawing for an encore.