***The World***
***Ascathon***
With a smile plastered onto my face, I wave Nix goodbye as she leaves through the portal to the Netherrealm with her mother in tow.
As soon as the portal closes, I drop my hand, stop smiling, and let out an exasperated breath. “Finally! They are gone.” What a luck that I managed to convince them that I have really no time to take a look at Nix’s new home.
“I still don't get why you refused to take a look at Nix's castle,” Ashley comments from next to me with a smug grin on her visage.
“Because I am a god now,” I reply, trying to sound sincere and earnest. “I have a world to take care of, so I can't just run off into a dimension with a different flow of time.” Not to mention that I would go insane if had to be around those two arguing females for another second.
“I think you are just using it as an excuse,” Karin observes. “After all, Ashley and the others are taking care of the 'mortal' affairs, while you are playing with your experiments.”
I press my lips together. “Isabel decided to take a look at Nix's home, so we are now lacking her talent for at least a few months, given the time dilatation.”
Ashley rolls her eyes. “I have about a dozen of my daughters over in this dimension, and they are regularly switching places with those who are running our castle. Nobody will even notice Isabella's absence.”
“Eight hours!” I snarl, my voice a little shaky. “You promised that Nix would leave after a short chat! I listened to the two of them for eight hours!” Raising my hand, I show them with just a little space between my thumb and index finger how close I came. “I was this close to blowing up!”
“One might think that you would be happy about meeting family,” Karin teases.
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “I am! But I can take Isabel only when she is naked and bent over a table! And Nix preferably far away! The two of them together are like water to my fire! There is only so much I can take.” I shake my head. “Even back in my demon days, mating with Isabel was the biggest mistake of my life!”
Karin turns her gaze to Ashley, looking a little worried, but the succubus matriarch just snorts and waves her hand at the young woman. “Please, Karin. Don't look at me like such a thing would bother me. First, he is right, and second, do you really think a demon-male has a choice when a succubus decides to mate with him?”
“No?” Karin replies questioningly after a moment of consideration. “Given all you've taught me, any inexperienced man would be putty in your hands.”
The succubus matriarch chuckles and launches into a story. “Oh, he was. Did you know that his demon reincarnation went a little awry, and that he barely had any memories of his past lives at the time. He was such a pure and innocent soul – for a demon. Any lady who showed interest in him could have twisted him around her little finger...”
I shudder and decide to leave them to their conversation. “It's really nice of you to tell Karin all that stuff, Ashley, but please try not to corrupt her completely? She was such a nice and innocent girl when I picked her up.”
Karin blushes, while Ashley snorts in disbelief. “An innocent girl who slaughtered a whole village, indiscriminately of whether they are man, woman, or child.”
“Hey!” Karin straightens herself, unexpectedly standing up to Ashley. “My madness 'had' method!”
The succubus looks at her charge, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. Instead of answering, she just tilts her head, taunting our little apprentice.
“I didn't kill a single slave,” Karin explains. “Everyone else went to the chopping block.”
“How about the innocent civilians?” Ashley asks smugly.
“Guilty by default. Everyone who didn't stop the slavery assisted it by not speaking up, even if they had no slaves themselves.” The young woman replies immediately without remorse or doubt. “I won't say that they were responsible for the actions of others, or that they should have gone on a crusade against slavery, just because they knew of it. But those people lived in that village for years. They walked past the slave-market every fucking day, and every fucking day they did nothing. That is what makes them guilty.”
I laugh. “So the gods are not guilty even though we could do something about human misery? Are we not passive observers?”
She clenches her teeth, working the muscles of her jaw. “I must admit that when I called upon you, I thought you no better than those who walked past my cage, ignoring me and the other slaves. But, back then, I was under a wrong assumption. Believing the temple's teachings, I thought that the gods were always watching, willfully ignoring their creation. Now I know that you are not omniscient, and that you would rather be somewhere else than to watch the misery of a slave-pen. It doesn't make you a good person, but it does make you a little less guilty. Given that you have to consider the entire multiverse as your home and how large it is, you can hardly be expected to watch the mortals forever. Heck, you did that shit for over a thousand years with your Mirai Empire, and they managed to pull it through the dirt within a few generations. I did this job only for a few months, and I already want to quit!”
I excuse myself after listening to a few more heated arguments between the two women. I can see what Ashley is trying to do, and I want no part of it. She is trying to goad Karin into giving up on her code of morals, or at least to realize that she is a little hypocritical.
Not that this is a bad thing. I myself am perfectly fine with being a hypocrite, as long as I am happy with it. If Karin is ever to ascend the final steps to immortality and ultimately godhood, she has to go onto a journey of self-recognition. A wise woman once told me that the path to immortality is strewn with the corpses of the ignorance of our nature.
For a long time I didn't understand what she meant by that, but over the centuries I came to realize what she might have meant. It's as true for immortals as it is for gods. With time, we grow ever more powerful, while we stay the same at our core. We may change everything around us, but we can't change ourselves.
Deciding that I want to be alone, I head into the facility’s lower levels, the high security tract which is only accessible to me. Taking the elevator past the imprisonment level, I exit on Level 5, a high security area for dangerous objects.
Humming silently, I wander the empty hallways of the level, studying the lockers and doors which lead to various storage areas. The dark obsidian on the floor and walls gives the environment a gloomy and threatening feeling. Thankfully, I saw to it that there is generous lighting when I designed the level, with more than enough mage-lights on the ceiling to light up every corner.
It was time to inspect the level anyway, so I might do it while I have nothing better to do. As I walk, I pass large blast-doors which allow access to the more dangerous objects. From time to time there is a row of simple lockers on the hallway, storage for the stuff which is safe enough as long as nobody gets his hands on the objects.
The stuff which I am storing here may not be ‘alive’ in the traditional sense, but some of the things on this level may as well have a will of their own. It’s only prudent to make sure that security wasn’t breached during my absence, especially since some of the objects have the potential to destroy the world several times over.
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As I round a corner, my wanderings through the silent hallways take me to a locker which was left open.
Hesitating, I narrow my eyes as my pulse increases and a sudden jolt of fear runs down my spine. There shouldn’t be anything left open on this level. Suddenly, the area doesn’t feel as safe as it did a moment ago, and I experience the irresistible urge to flee, to run and lock down this whole level, never entering it again.
Something prickles in the back of my neck and I turn around, making sure that there is nobody behind me. Of course, there is nobody there. The hallway is empty, aside from the lockers which I already checked.
Clamping my hands into fists, I release a measured amount of my aura, bathing in the cold, muddled sensation of my chaotic energies until the strange and unreasonable urges subside and vanish.
Normally, I am not this skittish. I am perfectly fine with darkness and dangerous situations, so why am I freaking out? There must be something messing with my mind! Drawing in a deep breath, I tighten down on my mental defences and turn to the open locker.
Approaching slowly, I take a look into the locker and find it empty. Old memories flare up in the back of my mind. A long forgotten experiment.
I take the file which was pinned to the locker’s frontside. My eyes quickly fly over the document and I sigh in relief when I realize that the situation isn’t as bad as I thought.
Object 00-19-11-2330
Object: Locker, dimensionally shifted
Classification: Safe
Description: The object in question was created during dimensional experiments. It will randomly shift places and dimensions, regularly appearing in – or close to – its point of origin. Object 00-19-11-2330 escapes so far all attempts at analysing its nature. All attempts at containing the object to a single location failed. Superficial inspections of other dimensions which are related closely to this one revealed that all objects similar to 00-19-11-2330 disappeared, making it the only one of its kind.
Repeated attempts at destroying 00-19-11-2330 failed. It’s possible to destroy 00-19-11-2330 down to the molecular level, but once whatever remains are left behind disappear, the object will reappear completely intact.
Mortals should not be brought close to 00-19-11-2330, as they will experience intense feelings of irrational fear of the unknown, resulting often in the use of violence – just to get away from the object. An uncontrollable wish to flee is experienced. It suggests that the item in question somehow affects the fight or flight reflex. Apparently, mortals can feel that something about 00-19-11-2330 isn’t natural and shouldn’t be in this world. This may be a side-effect of the dimensional shift.
Addendum1: But, as I am no psychologist, I don’t give a shit. Just remember that this stupid thing appears all over the facility. Remember to give it a good kick, as damage will make it disappear faster. And please for the love of god, don’t put anything dangerous inside. Who knows where this thing goes when it pulls off the vanishing act.
Addendum2: Should I ever wish to risk another reincarnation, I might just climb inside to see where it takes me. Sadly, the fact that there is never something inside the locker, even if I put something inside, isn’t promising for my well-being.
I close the cursed locker, wondering where it has been for the last three decades. Then I pin the file back onto the front side and kick the thing, denting it. A few seconds later it just vanishes without a trace. As if it never were there.
Nodding, I cross my arms behind my back and continue the inspection, promising myself that I would remember the damned thing the next time it appeared.
After an hour of wandering the corridor and checking the more dangerous containment areas, I arrive at a large, metal door. Pursing my lips, I suddenly feel nostalgic and approach, taking the file which was pinned to the wall next to it. It has been a long time since I had to lock this thing away, and it was one of my favourite items.
Object 00-01-02-1809
Object: Enchanted mask, faceless without features, made out of dragon-bone
Classification: Extremely Dangerous
Description: The object’s original purpose was to enhance the user’s perception. Various enchantments (look at Details) have been placed on 00-01-02-1809 over the centuries, leading to something that could be called enchantment-overload. 00-01-02-1809 has reached and exceeded the limits of how many enchantments can be safely placed on the material, leading to a breakdown of the magical field. This, and maybe a mistake by the enchanter, caused it to behave in unexpected ways. 00-01-02-1809 is safe, as long as it isn’t worn by a humanoid.
People in the vicinity of 00-01-02-1809 will experience the wish to put the object onto their face. This wish will continue to increase in strength, even against the person’s better judgment. Should the exposure to 00-01-02-1809 exceed one hour, people will start fighting over 00-01-02-1809, eventually leading to a person putting it on.
In rare cases, 00-01-02-1809 will levitate towards a suitable bearer, trying to attach itself against the person’s will. Catching or deflecting 00-01-02-1809 with the bare hand before it can attach itself has proven to be an acceptable protection.
Once 00-01-02-1809 is attached to a person’s face, unless it’s someone with extreme mental defences, that person has to be considered deceased. The bearer of 00-01-02-1809 will henceforth be designated as an Instance of 1809. Any Instances of 1809 show extremely high magical and necromantic skills. They will attack any living humanoids in their vicinity with extreme force until they are either terminated, or 00-01-02-1809 is removed from the face. In a case in which the Instance was left alone, it continued its destructive tendencies until its biological body broke down and ceased all higher functions, at which point 00-01-02-1809 can be retrieved without problems by an individual with sufficient mental defences.
Once an Instance is freed of 00-01-02-1809’s compulsion, the Instance will go into a catatonic state and decease shortly afterwards. Analysis of the body by an outside source showed that all synapses were overloaded, causing a breakdown of the nervous system.
Any attempts at damaging 00-01-02-1809 have only proven that the object can repair itself, even if ground to a fine dust. 00-01-02-1809 will slowly reassemble itself until the original function is restored. While 00-01-02-1809 is in the process of reassembly, all its other functions cease. Further attempts at destroying 00-01-02-1809 were not made since it’s a sufficiently *safe* object if stored correctly.
Addendum1: Things to be learned from this failure:
Remember not to enchant things while drunk.
Always record what you are doing when playing with magical artefacts, even if you made them yourself.
Don’t try to mess with the coding of such a large enchantment without having technical assistance.
Most importantly! Don’t imbue your godly powers into an object that requires high precision and logic to function.
“Hmm.” I scratch my cheek where a light beard is starting to grow. My eyes wander to the containment cell with the mask inside, and an idea is starting to form in the back of my mind. Tjenemit warned us several times not to interfere directly with the world, but what is a direct intervention?
At which point does an indirect intervention become a direct one. Can I provide my followers with resources? Do I cross the line by giving them nuclear bombs? It would be quite obvious that me lifting a hand against the mortals wouldn’t be taken well. But what about leaving an object out in the wild?
What if that object is – if left alone – not dangerous? Would it be my fault if a hapless mortal were to pick it up?
Quite sure of myself, I reattach the report to the wall and open the cell.
Black darkness greets me from inside and if I wasn't still channelling my aura from earlier, things might have taken a bad turn.
But I easily catch the white thing which comes flying out of the darkness, directly at my face.
My fingers close on the white mask, which now looks quite different from what I remember.
Turning it around, I study the thing, feeling a malicious aura coming off of it. Instead of the faceless mien, it displays the angry and snarling visage of a male in his twenties, with a single horn coming out of the forehead.
“Tried to give me a jump-scare, did ya?” I chew on my inner cheek, trying to decide whether my idea is ingenious, or actually pretty stupid. But it’s not like I am in the habit of putting my sign onto my creations.
I mean, it would be incredibly stupid to let this thing out into the world if there was ‘Made by Ascathon, God of Chaos and Magic!’ stamped onto it. Just to make sure, I turn the mask around, studying every inch of the surface. One never knows what I might have, or not done, when I was drunk enough to mess up the enchantment. Actually, this thing was once one of my favourite items. Being unable to use it safely was quite the mood dampener, but I got over it.
There are many old pictures out in the world, showing the Necromantic Empress with a smile and a white mask in her hand.
After studying every inch of the surface, I nod to myself, reassured that there is nothing that hints towards me. While the sudden change in appearance is worrying and new, there doesn’t seem to be an issue. In fact, it comes in quite handy with my plan.
Humming, I leave the high-security area and take a pathway towards the battle-line between the Alliance and the Empire, appearing quite a way within the Alliance’s borders.
After a last look at the mask, I shrug and drop it above what’s likely to be one of the major roads. Someone should be sure to find and pick up the thing.
It slips out of my fingers and tumbles down to the ground.
"Tā rén zhī wù wéi liáng shī," I mumble, remembering an old saying about learning from mistakes. Then I take a pathway back to my base.