Kurian al’Yun tor’Tal, known across the Integrated Universe as the Jagged Blade, cleaver of solar systems, bane of Chaos, and the greatest opponent the Aspect known as Conflict Himself had ever known…was consumed watching intergalactic entertainment dramas.
He was doing many other things, of course, but the bulk of his attention was turned toward three specific live broadcasts colloquially known on Earth, as soap operas. His mental Manifestations were each assigned their task by the Dominant thread and were dutifully consuming the programs.
It had been many cycles since he had been given enough autonomy to monitor the feeds and so his latest message from his Head Disciple was considerably out of date. But now that Conflict had loosened the reins, he was free to observe—observe and wait.
But a being such as the Jagged Blade was nothing if not patient. He could wait a million more cycles if needed. Thankfully for him, he had spotted the first message soon after being assigned to this planet.
It had been a simple message—not simple in the literal sense, since it had consisted of a thousand micro messages stitched together by Kurian’s Manifestations after painstaking effort. But it had also been simple, in that it served no purpose other than to indicate a time and method for the next message.
The time, was now. And the method…three innocuous entertainment broadcasts.
It was a method devised by Kurian himself a long, long time before his fateful battle with Conflict. Though the broadcasts sent across the Integrated Universe were far-reaching and nearly inviolate, there were ways to affect the streams via specific and calculating methods. But they had to be subtle enough that the Adjudicators didn’t notice, let alone an Aspect such as Conflict. A feed going down, even for a few seconds, would raise alarms.
A single dot of a single frame disappearing, would be inconsequential, even to the Higher Powers of the Universe. Stitch enough of these missing dots together and the lines of communication broke wide open for those able to read them.
Still, caution was the hallmark of the long-lived. His Head Disciple knew to be sparing with his message.
Now?
He considered that question with the Dominant thread. His sense of fate was limited to instinct. Not because the Aspect jealously guarded her Throne—no Higher Power was strong enough to bar the others from their domains entirely—but because of the net wrapped tight around the planet. A net handcrafted by Dondarius Himself to monitor and filter energies coming and leaving the planet known as Earth. Kurian was cut off from the energies of the Integrated Universe—at least on any scale that mattered. But no Being, not even Conflict, was perfect. For he had made one glaring, very consequential error.
He had put one of his idiot servitors in charge of the net.
Every great leader had to delegate, of course. But the difference between a great leader and a supreme one, was where they put that trust. Unfortunately for Dondarius, he too often placed his trust in his servitor spirits. And in this case, the spirit that called itself Null was far too easily goaded.
Kurian was about to put that to his advantage.
Linking up with the Manifestation monitoring the humans and their scenario, he was pleased to note that they had finally followed the trail he had laid out. He began crafting the message he intended to send as he watched them scale the exterior of the castle wall.
When Dirk scanned the [Body Tempering Solution], Kurian allowed himself to feel a full second of satisfaction. Though he had labeled it with a generic term, this was actually the most potent body tempering formula he was aware of. It was a cheat. A spit in the Integration Guide’s eye that it couldn’t ignore. But Null was too slow, too distracted, to intercede. By the time it noticed the formula that had no place within the Tower, the humans were already cracking open the safe. The Immortal simulacrum arrived to prevent them from taking the physical potion, but so did Null.
Time froze—not for Kurian, but for all the others.
Dirk, Lacy, and his youngest disciple stood stock still as Null stole his master’s authority to pause time. Kurian considered ignoring the servitor for a moment, but most of his Manifestations concurred that was a move motivated by petty hate rather than calculating exactitude. They all agreed, Null was already at the breaking point; anything more would be extraneous.
“YOU DARE!” the voice sounded from every direction.
The Jagged Blade slowly looked up from his tablet, cracking his neck in a very mortal gesture.
“Many things,” he replied quietly. “But perhaps you could be more specific.”
He consolidated his Manifestations now—all but one, given the most important task. He might have preferred to utilize the Dominant thread for such a delicate task, but he trusted himself explicitly and knew when not to micromanage his Manifestations.
“That is a not a Tower-sanctioned potion formula!” the little spirit screeched. “Its existence is not permitted here by order of my master!”
Kurian stared blankly at the empty space before him, then looked up, raising his eyebrows.
“Are you going to shout at me from the heavens or shall we meet face-to-face like peers?” His tone was even, a fact he knew would infuriate Null even more.
“Peers? PEERS!” Space warped before Kurian as the spirit flashed into the training room. A ball of energy that was gaseous in form floated before him. “We are not peers!”
He gave the signal to his single Manifestation, though he had just recognized that no micromanagement was required. A slip up, a breakdown in the efficiency of his mind. That realization surprised him and he dedicated a handful of threads to examining the thoughts leading up to that action. Meanwhile, he felt the message begin to form and knew he needed to stall for time.
“I’m not sure Dondarius would agree.” He sighed, injecting weariness he didn’t feel into his voice. “We both want the same thing, do we not?”
The handful of threads he had tasked came back with a conclusion.
We are nervous…
He examined that verdict, then discarded it. Yes, he supposed that made sense. Thousands of years cut off from his people with not even a sliver of hope to tempt him. Though he knew that isolation and time were not enough to break him, he wasn’t infallible—emotions and worries crept in and colored his actions occasionally.
“The…same thing?” Null asked with a disbelieving tone. “I very much doubt that!”
Kurian shrugged and leaned back into his chair. “I must have been mistaken. I thought your master’s mandate—the entire reason for these Towers—was to foster native talent through conflict and struggle.”
“It is!”
A friendly smile spread across his lips.
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“Excellent! Then we are in agreement.” He shook his head. “For a moment there, I worried you would not approve of my methods—”
“Wait, what? No, we are absolutely not in agreement.” The swirling vial inside the safe across the room floated up of its own accord, then zipped toward Null and Kurian. “This is a clear and willful violation of your employment stipulations—” Kurian had to force down a bitter laugh at those words. “—and I will be informing the master of your transgressions.”
As he was about to reply, the moment arrived. The message was crafted, the spirit was distracted, and the net was exposed.
He was careful not to micromanage his Manifestation this time, but simply observed as the feeds were altered ever so slightly to send the return message.
Wait…and prepare.
Despite the circumspect nature of their communication method, it was always easier coming in then going out. The servitor spirit would have most of its attention on aberrations leaving Earth and very little energy on the feeds arriving. As the message was sent, he felt Null’s attention pull away, so he acted.
“Dondarius is already aware that I’ve supplied this tempering solution to the human Prime.”
Null’s gaseous presence contracted into a single point, a bright red dot that shivered in place.
“What! He is?” The red dot slowly expanded, the colors shifting in a kaleidoscope pattern that betrayed the spirit’s erratic mood.
Kurian relaxed—for him, that meant he let his Manifestations separate to return to their previous tasks; they were no longer needed. That fateful moment had come and gone. That single instant when Null could have possibly detected his message.
It was done…
He didn’t celebrate or feel accomplished—there was still very much hanging in the balance. Breaking free of an Aspect’s grip was no small feat. But if any creature could do it, it was the Jagged Blade.
“Well, I assume so, at least,” Kurian replied innocently. “Isn’t he aware of all things within his domain?”
The two of them engaged in conversation for a few more subjective minutes, but as far as Kurian was concerned, he’d achieved both goals he’d set out to accomplish. He’d informed his people that he was alive and accessible, and given Dirk and the girl a powerful formula that could see their power double or even triple.
Selfishly, he was more interested in the girl imbibing the tempering potion—she possessed all the necessary traits of a future powerhouse and was still young enough to smooth out any bad habits. But he had to admit, the man was promising enough for the attention of not just one, but two, Aspects. With the correct guidance, it wasn’t unfeasible to see the man Climb to the apex of the Tower.
But life was never an all-or-nothing affair. He would hedge his bets and nurture both the man and the girl. It cost him nothing but the occasional light scolding by a simple spirit and his time—of which he had plenty to spare.
As Null continued to berate Kurian, he eventually turned his attention back to the spirit and held up a hand to forestall its tirade.
“Are you familiar with the Earth fable of Pandora’s Box?”
The spirit cycled through a series of colors—annoyance, reluctance, embarrassment all mingled in one.
Its voice took on a whining tone. “I wasn’t given the proper prep time to dive into every little idiosyncrasy of this backwater planet—”
“Perhaps you’re more familiar with the Larimeen Theorem, then?”
The spirit contracted into a square shape, blue tinged with green.
“What is done cannot become undone,” it replied with a pleased tone.
Kurian nodded. “The formula has been revealed—out of Pandora’s Box, so to speak—and that cannot be undone.” Null expanded to interrupt, but he held out his hand once more. “That is to say, we cannot strip that knowledge from the humans, but we can limit how they utilize it. I would suggest that we restrict its use to those present for the scenario. The Prime, the girl, and the woman.” He didn’t care if the human known as Lacy imbibed the potion, but he also knew that in a negotiation, you always asked for more than you wanted.
“Absolutely not!” Null replied. “The infant, maybe, since she won’t be ready to imbibe for some time. But not the Climbers.”
“Do they receive no reward, then? They’ve completed an Immortal-level scenario, and Integration Assistance Services guidelines stipulate that an Immortal-level scenario must be commiserate with an Immortal-level reward.”
The spirit spluttered, its color shifting to a red akin to a rash.
“They have not completed an Immortal-level scenario! They’re about to be pasted against the castle wall!”
He held up a finger and tilted his head. “Ah, but they’ve retrieved the Immortal Lord’s treasure and they have not raised the alarm. That’s a reward and a bonus reward.” He waved his hand and the scenario details displayed before them both. “The treasure is the formula, obviously, and the alarm has not been raised…” He trailed off, letting the spirit digest those words.
“Th-that’s not true! The Immortal is there now, in the very same room! They’ve failed!”
“But has the alarm been raised?”
“I-I…” The spirit deflated, a slave to its own rigid sensibilities. After a prolonged moment, it conceded. “Fine…I accept your point. But they may not disseminate the formula or the completed potion to any other creatures, human or not! I won’t budge on that issue.”
Kurian chuckled inwardly. Dondarius had truly made a mistake trusting in these servitor spirits to manage his interests. One of his own Manifestations would have never lost such a negotiation so handily.
“Agreed,” he replied begrudgingly. “Only Athena, Lacy, and Dirk may discuss and imbibe the solution.” Kurian smiled in a friendly fashion, unable to resist one more jab at the simpleton. “Shall I inform them of their success…or would you prefer that honor?”
The spirit huffed, then disappeared in a flash. Time returned to its normal flow and Kurian paused the Immortal just as it was about to slay the two of them.
Schooling his expression, he appeared before the girl and man.
“Congratulations on defeating my scenario.”
***
I was beginning to become familiar with the signs of a time freeze. There was always a subtle disjoint between the before and the after that was reminiscent of a skipping record. One moment, the Immortal was standing there, his powerful gaze pinning us to the spot, and the next, he was a half-inch out of place, his body frozen.
Before Athena or I could react to the bizarre tableau, the castle walls dematerialized, followed shortly by the Immortal himself. In seconds, we were standing on the bare training room floor and Kurian was there where the Immortal had been a moment earlier.
“Congratulations on defeating my scenario.” His delivery was in stark contrast with his words, a deadpan tone that sounded borderline displeased. “Your reward is the knowledge you’ve gained. For not raising the alarm, you will also receive a bonus reward.” He waved his hand and a vial floated before him. It was the same vial from the Immortal’s safe and I shared a giddy look with Athena. “A single use potion for either of you to imbibe.”
Lacy jogged over, a frown on her face.
“Wait! We won?” She looked around with narrowed eyes. “I don’t get it.”
“You won,” Kurian replied simply.
I rubbed at the stubble on my chin and considered. It was pretty obvious that the vault had been a red herring now that I thought back on it. Nothing in the actual scenario description had indicated the Immortal’s treasure was in there. In fact, we had only assumed the vault was our target because Lacy had said as much. Meaning that the Immortal’s treasure…was the potion?
“I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth,” I said. “But we never actually retrieved the vial before the Immortal showed up. If we’re being honest, we were both a half-second from death before you stopped the scenario.”
Athena slapped my arm and glared up at me, but I ignored her, keeping my eyes on Kurian.
He tilted his head to the side.
“Why do you assume the potion is the treasure?”
“Is it not?” Lacy asked doubtfully.
“It is single use. Would you value the potion over the formula?”
My eyes went wide as I realized his point.
“I memorized the formula,” I said to Lacy and Athena. “That was the treasure and we retrieved it! Even if the Immortal ended us, it’s still in my head!”
Lacy frowned. “Yeah…I guess…”
“Am I right?”
Kurian shrugged and the potion floated over toward me.
“What do you think?”
I shared a stupid grin with Lacy as I reached out to collect the floating potion. As my hand wrapped around it, my eyes went wide. There was an obvious energy coursing through the vial, eliciting a tingling sensation on my palm.
“But why did we get the bonus reward?” Athena asked. This time, it was my turn to glare and slap her arm. She swatted back at me absently. “I’m just saying, not like we went undetected or anything.”
“Ohhhhh,” Lacy said, her eyes wide. “The Immortal didn’t raise the alarm! He was just gonna smash you two, ending the scenario…” She looked at me with a wide smile. “You would have escaped the scenario with the—” She used air quotes for the word. “—treasure.” She turned to Kurian with a shake of her head. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Gamed it so that all we had to do was think outside the box. As soon as we entered the Immortal’s office, it was more than likely we’d find the formula and then get killed without the alarm raising.”
My face scrunched up at her explanation. That sounded like a bit of a stretch, but Kurian’s lip twitched, only for a half-second. I played that expression back in my mind and yes, that had been what I thought it was.
The fucker had smiled for the briefest moment before forcing his expression blank again.
“Use your [Analysis] ability on the potion,” Kurian said, surprising me.
“That works?”
He didn’t reply, simply raising his eyebrows as he waited patiently.
Shrugging, I did as he suggested. Sure enough, a description of the potion filled my vision. My mouth dropped as I read it.
“No fucking way.”
Lacy and Athena crowded around me, examining the potion in my hand in a new light.
“What is it?” Lacy asked.
Athena craned up on her tiptoes. “Good or bad?”
I stared at them in open shock, speechless for a moment.
“It’s…Celestial grade…”