“So let me get this straight...” Alex sighed. Half relieved, all confused. It was a transcendent realization that Tyr was not dead, but the fact that there were twelve of him was... Well? Even if she'd heard the stories from the horse's mouth, seeing was believing. Yet she was very much in disbelief in this moment. And a little nervous, for obvious reasons. “You're all Tyr? Not golems, not haemonculi, you're all real?”

“What else would we be?” Blades asked, raising an eyebrow. He wore his hair long as well, tied up in a top knot with the sides cut short. The Tyr's all had unique things about themselves, but other than an insignificant blemish, facial hair, scar or hairstyle, they were totally identical in appearance. Body shape notwithstanding, some were noticeably bulkier, or the inverse, but still..

“Hello, I'm Scott,” A much thinner, more wiry version of the bunch replied with a happy wave.

“Nobody cares!”

“Shut the hell up, Scott.”

“What a shitty fucking name.”

“I hate all of you.”

'Huron' grunted in chagrin at that, with Scott frantically explaining that he couldn't possibly be referring to the biggest of the bunch, correcting himself. Much to the giant man's approval, evidently. This world was insane...

“It's a good ask,” Tyr said. Tyr... Uh... No. Not again... The 'real' Tyr, probably. “Please, all of you, shut up. I like the name Scott, by the way, it's nice and snappy.”

And they did. Here there was only one 'Tyr', but that was part of the problem for Alex. “Please tell me that--” She said, or tried to.

“It was always me. In bed, on your lips, holding your hand as the great silver saucer in the sky turned – relax. This is more recent, you've only interacted with Huron as far as I know. And they know, we have rules and most of them are not in a position to know much about you all. I am Tyr, the only Tyr, each and every one of these individuals are their own person – they simply came of me. And none of them go by the name, that being 'Tyr', to lessen confusion. Unless necessary for some big brained plot of mine to impersonate me, that is.”

“Oh, good...” Alex replied mutely.

“What the fuck...?” Sigi added for posterity's sake.

“How do you know who the original is? If you are clones imaged from the same or relatively similar consciousness, wouldn't you all consider yourself the real one? I mean, this sort of magic is real, it exists or has in the past, at least... Um...” Astrid coughed, sort of babbling. She was looking a bit green, nervously ringing her hands, not knowing which pair of eyes to meet. One Tyr was bad, or good enough for her. Twelve was too much! Or, as was the case, 11 more to make for twelve total including the original. “I'm sorry, this is a lot...”

“There is no original, you've got it all wrong,” Blades commented, and none of them argued. “We are all the same person. A product of the failed attempt to deprive your Tyr of all emotion. He went into the Labyrinth and eleven of us were born. But to reiterate and perhaps contradict, we are all Tyr, just split versions of one another. From other places once, refrain from implying that we are doppelgangers or clones of some sort, we are individuals. My name is Leo, for instance.”

“You want into the Labyrinth...?” Alex frowned in abject disapproval, but now wasn't the time. He'd been forced into it before he'd ever had that conversation with Daelin. Something that had only happened in his head. And for some reason... He guessed he'd been a woman in that dream, whatever the hell it was that was happening, or what it meant. The Labyrinth as it were had ripped his soul away, and it had to go somewhere – which had been Connor, the man married to Astrid and another shardling out there in the universe. There was math behind it, real arithmetic, but trying to understand why he was so keenly bonded with these others versions of 'himself' was going to help nobody.

Jurak, however, was unaffected – and the others had simply begun popping up all over the place. The bodies they used had slowly, or in human context, rapidly grown to adulthood. Before the trial in Kriegstad – they'd all been well underway. About some business, working together on a plan to stop 'this' Tyr from losing everything as those who remembered their previous lives had. They had all of his memories, and they obeyed, and that was enough.

–

“Why are you here, then?” Sigi asked. They met over a meal in the Faeron estate, this time so as to avoid watchful eyes. The topic of conversation might've been suspect, but the likenesses of her husband were no impediment to moving freely. They could change those at will, with only 'their' Tyr lacking finer control as of yet. And then there was 'Huron', who couldn't do it at all, but he was thick enough in stature and bearded now, one wasn't likely to identify them as twins unless the big man shaved. “If you possess your own individual wills and aren't some kind of collective consciousness, why stay?”

“Because we all have relatively similar goals,” Four of them spoke for the others near always, Scott, the one called Andre, Tyr himself, or Leo. Some of them claimed that they were from 'other worlds' before they'd been yanked here a moment before death, others were children, mentally, in the bodies of fully grown men. There was no rhyme or reason to it at all.

“You could, in reality, say that we are a collective consciousness. Right?” Scott turned toward Tyr, the original, and despite their faces being different enough to identify with a glance, it was no less confusing. Or concerning, twelve menaces to society where they needed only one, some might consider this real proof that hell existed after all.

“We share senses if we focus,” Tyr shrugged, “It lightens the burden in some ways, and makes it heavier in others. My mind is less at risk of breaking now, and thus I am less susceptible to being overcome by my shard, but I will admit that twelve separate experiences all at once is taxing on me. Better out than in, though, this was the best option available to me. And might explain why I was so...”

“Damned schizophrenic?” Sigi finished for him with a grimace, and he shrugged. Close enough. His multiple personality disorder becoming literal physical beings was probably bothersome to everyone.

“You just lack discipline, kid,” Blades, also known as Leo, snorted. Evidently, he now thought the name was 'very cool' and didn't care what they called him. A willfully violent man, even more so than Tyr himself, but with an almost paladin-esque consideration of morality. He didn't seem to talk much at all except to his original, or Alex. The others might as well not even exist. Compared to Andre, another one of them who did the opposite – refusing to so much as look at Alex, but friendly to all the others. All of them were cracked in the skull. “It'll come to you with time. Since we are all born or reborn from the same mien, the others have the same motivation for most things. Not enough time for us to grow and develop independently. They are copies of a sort, but that doesn't mean they aren't sapient. For those of us who had previous lives before all of this, we share the impulse that gave us bodies on this world – but we are not a hive mind. None of us are the beings you term 'primus' either. As time goes on, we will begin to diverge from one another at a rapid pace. Shard mechanics are very confusing, fringe science even to the brightest experts from where I come from.”

“That's impossible,” Tythas asserted, and the others nodded their heads in agreement. Multiverse theory was known albeit considered eccentric, Ellemar had pioneered it and it stuck around the academic circles. But this...? “There is no such magic such as that. You're saying that you transited souls through other planes and gave them bodies? With no use of actual dimensional magic, essentially giving birth to them? That's not theory, that's not 'fringe' science, that is factually impossible.”

Someone mumbled 'nerd' under their breath, but all those actually listening to the conversation were too interested to care.

“It's not magic. Magic was the medium by which he started this process, but the process wasn't predicated on mana. Tyr absorbed these fragments some time ago, mostly by accident, and when that kind of energy is given physical form it handles the rest of it independent from the main. We were in him this entire time, a shard grows and develops and it will eventually collect a soul from somewhere else – nephilim are finite in the universe and they cannot make more of themselves. The process is cyclic, reincarnation of a sort. This is a bizarre example of shard manifestation but not unheard of, and personally I was not forced here – I was called upon and accepted it out of pure academic curiosity.” Scott said, and nobody questioned or insulted him this time. He was from a place where science and magic were truly one in more ways than this world. Not a fighter like Leo or Tyr, but a scientist, though he could certainly hold his own, a record he himself addressed often.

He didn't mention the dao, Tyr was still unsure of how it all connected in the grander scheme so he was glad for that. After spending some time in the realm of the primal creators he realized that mana wasn't the dao. Under the dao, like everything else, but ultimately it was an interpretation of the dao formulated by a lesser existence. Just like the spira, there were layers to everything. Dao would start as a seed and through events, thoughts, and direct action would become fragments. All of these different pieces of himself were not, however, directly brought on by said construct. They were related, but the shards themselves that lay at the heart of all awakened humans were another system beneath it, created by the high ones, thus they couldn't be dao. Collected via unknown means, pulled to him through his open gates as far as he understood it. And that had been a process that had slowly driven him to the brink of insanity, nascent consciousnesses of a sort.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

But now... Now, for all intent and purposes, while certainly not 'sane', Tyr was as clear headed as he had ever been in all his life. At least after having his aspect shattered when killing Cortus, one must note.

There had been hundreds, if not thousands of these things, all latching on to one of these seeds or fragments like parasites. They'd been magnetically drawn to the broken vessel. Now, after effectively slaughtering one another to make room for others – they were eleven, with he himself as the 12th and highest.

To simplify, Leo – as an example, had been inside Tyr riding along since the very first time Tyr had used a sword. He was first, which meant nearly 20 years if not more than that, and was responsible for returning Tyr's memory to him. In a way... Sort of like a shitty guardian angel, but it was an abject truth that Leo had picked out and fed on some of the less scrupulous personalities that had come to fill Tyr's gates in a similar way. A battle royale for control over his body, some of them sending him dreams or trying to communicate by waking nightmares. With those gone, Tyr's spiritual infirmity was nearly gone.

All he had left was his primary shard, that which made a primus and was made dormant through the expulsion of energy – and the barest shred of what was left of Jurak. A battery and source of immense power he was still digesting.

Seed > Fragment > Shard – at which point they became sentient. Dao was the vessel by which they traveled, and in nephilim the fragment would passively seek to become personified as the host was. However, worth noting, only primus' – as far as Tyr knew – were capable of being enslaved by their shards as individuals. Any other member of their kind, according to Andre who'd been a full fledged nephilim as compared to Leo and Scott who had considered it differently, would have a voice in the back of their head. A GPS or helpful tool, what Scott called a neural intelligence construct that in his universe were manufactured and implanted in their brains. Things they no longer had, though they'd most likely come to manifest shards of their own in the way that Alex had.

Moving on...

All were called here and many hadn't accepted, leaving some of their number as mental newborns, but still fully cognizant and possessive of souls. As if they were literally born, and nobody knew how that worked in totality. It wasn't a stroke of genius, it was a power above Tyr that had seen to correct the 'error' of leaving these fragments out in the open with no host. Like they were eggs that needed to be hatched as soon as they'd left his body. That was what dao was, a symbiotic mass of spiritual energy that in this case was powerful enough to say 'I don't want to disappear' and had bent reality itself to its will to ensure that it wouldn't. Creating a living nephilim from scratch. Probably. Uh... One must note that even with 12 minds capable of bonding, Tyr was no genius, and neither were his copies, Scott was smart but he was all about the technological approach, not the spiritual.

“That's not confusing in the slightest,” Brenn observed sarcastically, shaking his head. Tyr was a source of infinite migraines, literally using the will of the universe as his excuse. Alive again, a collection of contrivances and bizarrely explained tropes. “But to be clear, did it fix your problem?”

“Damn, man...” Micah huffed in annoyance. “We all thought he was like... Super dead, and now we're all just moving on to talking about mana and gods and shit? What the hell is wrong with you, I was depressed!”

“You're right,” Brenn nodded softly, bowing his head like the good boy paladin he was, “I'm glad you're alive, Tyr. I truly am.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks.”

They all replied at once, much to the chagrin of the others.

“Alright, that's gotta stop,” Sigi threw her spoon into the bowl of soup she'd just finished. “Come up with some new names!”

“It's just a joke,” Andre laughed, a burly derivative with calloused hands and somewhat darker skin.

“Anyways...” Brenn coughed, waving his hands to silence the others who certainly had a lot of questions, “Your problem?”

“My problem?” Tyr asked, confused. Both by the question and by the very important advice Sigi had just given. This could have some... Complications. Granted, they did have their own names and always would, the only other one called Tyr had been Huron and his clock had been cleaned by his resurrection. But appearing as twins at all times would confuse many, or result in a great deal of problems – but it was also of tremendous benefit. He was absolutely sure that Hastur had no idea this was the case. Tyr could be in 12 places at once, and had been, nobody had done anything to stop it nor communicated this to the others. They smelled the same, looked very similar, but only he had access to the aspect – preventing the likely conclusion to that sort of thing. The others were just nephilim of varying, yet impressive, degrees of ability, but he would always be the most able.

“Talking in your sleep, whispering about walls...?” Micah coughed anxiously. “That sort of thing, I think that's what he means...?”

Tyr nodded in understanding before shaking his head. “Yes and no. I went somewhere, saw things and understood that this problem came from a lack of acceptance to what I was seeing. Resisting it had been the reason why it became so difficult, but I had no choice. I still don't know what it is, but I am beginning to understand. If you're asking me if I'll crack any moment now, the answer is no, I'll be fine for a few years. Imagine a boat with a hole through the stern. These others are scooping the water out so long as they live, but it can't go on indefinitely. Eventually, the sea always wins.”

“Shit metaphor,” Sigi chuckled, she too was over the moon that Tyr had turned out to have been alive this whole time. Still confused, though. “But what do we do now?”

“We?” Tyr asked, brow arched.

“Yes, we, you ass, I've been with you from the start and the fact you'd question that makes me want to punch you.”

“What we've been doing.” Tyr replied. “The others will go continue their business around the continent, and the rest of us will do what we have to. I have a plan.”

“...You have a plan?” Tythas asked, squinting.

“I've got a plan,” Tyr shrugged. Tyr, the man who planned nothing, now with a plan, was that terrifying, or a recipe for disaster?

“Ethical implications aside...” Alex squinted, not sure which one to make eye contact with. She knew who her Tyr was, but they all looked the same which was a large part of why she liked him in the first place. How handsome he was, to be specific, his personality won him few favors. “What happens to them? At the end of... this.”

“We're not totally sure. You see, guard--”

“It's fine.” Tyr said, facing Scott. “It's not restricted information on our world. It's not not very widespread. Give it a shot.”

“Copy that.” Scott smiled at the first of his new 'brothers' that didn't abuse him. “Nephilim, or what we called Guardian shards, can manifest in anyone but almost universally they are metabolized and made a part of the individual with no competing logic. Problem is, these primus' of yours are not supposed to take more than one. They take a... Certain form of energy first, their aspect which is wholly separate, and then a shard essentially grows around it. I don't really understand the phenomena of him acquiring so many soul bearing shards, but it could be easily explained away as a passive process, it's actually not totally unheard of. On my world, it's a well known and documented cause of certain mental ill--”

“That's enough, Scott.” Tyr patted him gently on the hand. “They asked what will happen to you, not about the science behind it all.”

“Ah, indeed! Who knows...? We'll die, probably. Our shards were reborn into independent versions of our 'selves'. There is no paradoxical relationship here because the bodies are unique and born on this world, technically. I would posit that we'll either all live normal lives like any other biological, or we won't! Or...”

“Or?”

“Well...” Scott breathed in, pensive and frowning. “All of us, people with past lives, will keep moving on. We die here, we move on, yada yada, like every nephilim does, reincarnation. But for those truly made on this world I'm not really sure, the new ones of those who didn't answer the call. There is also the event that we could be metabolized even as external entities, which would result in our deaths, I think, but that becomes pretty unlikely the longer we exist on this planet. Get it?”

“...No.”

“So you don't know?” Blades squinted at him with a limp mouth, he'd never liked the bookish types and now he knew why. “You could've just said you didn't know...”

“Actually, it's a lot more com--”

“Shut the hell up, Scott!”

“God dammit, man.”

“You're taking this all in stride.” Astrid frowned. “Considering that some of you, by claim, had lives and were suddenly ripped away from them. Don't you miss home?”

“It's different for us.” Leo replied. “I know, though my memories, that I loved a woman and was with her for a great many years. But these emotional attachments and stigmata that bind our kind together are ripped away in the process. Thus, I remember, but I feel as if it's all coming from the 3rd person. Not unlike watching a movie or reading a book of my own life.”

“What's a 'movie'?” Tythas asked, but nobody seemed intent to answer him – feeling some kinship with this 'Scott' of theirs in that moment.

“That's a good way to put it.” Andre grunted. “It's also worth noting that some of us have been here for over a decade. Slowly, we reincorporate and were given a very long time to consider it regardless. You might even say that our lives existed within a sub-reality within the shards as we manifested. I'm not really worried about it.”

“In any case.” Tyr interrupted. “We have a lot of work to do, and I'd like to get to it as soon as possible. If you're willing to stand with me, that is.”

There were a lot of conflicted looks at that table, but eventually, much to Tyr's pleasure, they nodded in agreement. For better or worse, they had his back, like they'd always done.