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Destroying The Divine
Chapter 3 - Kali

Chapter 3 - Kali

The gods are imaginary beings, creatures of fiction and lies. Yet, lies have power, sometimes more so than the truth.

A powerful lie spread by a good priest’s honeyed words can lure the masses to build new churches and spread those fictions ever further. And, for the sake of protecting all that they’ve built, the devoted will shed blood and force yet others to reject truth and bow to their shared delusions.

It is the role of a devotee to carve that lie into reality with every stone added to the foundations of the church, with every symbol dyed into the flags, and every ‘holy’ word inked onto paper and parchment. Yet gods cannot, by their very nature, exist on the same plane as mortals. Their churches are but brick and stone when there is no longer anyone coming to pray, while their ‘holy’ words and symbols are but shapes and sounds that will, with time, lose meaning to all but the most dedicated historians.

It is within the faith of a community that a god holds true power.

And the moment that faith fades, the gods tumble from their heavens.

SynnTech still has many devotees and I’m about to meet with a high priest.

“You look fine, stop fiddling with your dress,” Mom chides me, lightly slapping at my hands.

It’s funny how even though my emotions seem so distant and numb, they can still send tremors through my fingers. If I can still feel fear, what of the rest, then?

Do I even want them back?

“You’ll do fine,” Dad squeezes my shoulder, smiling down at me with the sort of unfounded confidence that only a parent can have in their child.

“Thanks,” I whisper, focusing on my flesh and relaxing every muscle. I am but flesh and bone, but that flesh and bone are mine, not even my own fear will take that from me.

The distinct scent of wood ash and ripe cherries, emanating from some well-hidden air freshener, eases my focus back on the world. Resting a hand on the dark wooden panel walls, and the rough wooden texture characteristic of Cronus Inc.—A company dedicated to the production of luxury materials, from wood shaped to purpose as it still grows to stone furniture cast from magma.

The cool metal rails shimmer with silver engravings hidden within the steel that shift and flow with an unseen current. This sort of custom work that you’ll only see from Titan Manufacturing. The same with the light housing though the orb itself carries the distinctive warmth of a Tartarus.

Each and every one of them a subsidiary of SynnTech, lesser gods in the greater pantheon.

The doors hiss as they open on the top floor of the apartment building, revealing a divinely beautiful woman standing before a wide glass window looking out over the city. The blended lights of ‘the glow’ gathers at the woman’s back, climbing the tail of her dress and rising to her shoulders. She’s clothed in a sheer fabric catching and warping the light in strange ways, illuminated from within by some unseen projector.

“Treasured guests, the master of the house is waiting, please follow closely,” she bows to us, her copper-dyed Better-Than-Real skin that much more stunning in the golden glow of her dress. Her high heels and thigh-high stockings are comparatively dark, highlighting her legs against the bright backdrop of her dress; a shadow standing in the light.

Her movements are too perfect for flesh. She’s either an android running on high-grade code or a full-body synner like Azra. Regardless, I take note of her appearance for later inspiration. I’ll eventually need to develop a tasteful style for my own metal, and she’s been quite beautifully constructed.

“Azra has already arrived. He is waiting with mistress Kali in the lounge,” she tells us, her voice too perfectly cold.

“You are?” I ask her.

“You may call me Coppelia, I am mistress Kali’s personal servant,” she replies with a mechanical coolness.

There is enough space here to fit our apartment twice over, with only a few simple leather lounges and low tables filling the space in the real. Glowing displays shimmer in my ocular lenses, filling the empty space with a thinly forested valley where wild deer graze at the thick grasses and the glowing lights of the city shine like night stars on a still lake.

Azra stands in contrast to the faux nature, a metal construct barely imitating the human form. Metallic-blue, reactive armour covers him from head to toe, each piece held out a few centimetres from his body by short mechanical arms. His face is a shifting mass of smaller armour plates with no eyes, nose, or mouth, though I can sometimes glimpse shifting lenses in the gaps between as he turns to address us.

“Good evening,” his deep, synthesised voice projects from somewhere in his chest.

“You didn’t bring the dogs?” Dad asks, “Aren’t they going to be lonely?”

“It’s better this way,” Azra slowly shakes his head. “This would be too much for them and I wouldn’t want to stress them.”

“A shame that we didn’t get to meet them, but it’s nice to see you again,” I greet him fondly. He’s not one for handshakes or any form of touching, but I do see the small spots of stray fur stuck in his shifting armour plates.

“A pleasure,” he nods to me.

“Right you are, it is set to become quite the pleasant evening,” Dad’s boss declares, emerging from the illusory forest and startling a few deer as she smiles in our direction.

I grind my teeth, setting my jaw and locking my joints just to resist the violent impulses wracking my flesh from the impact of her presence. I spin my logic core into action and focus on the details to keep from being totally consumed by the unexpected attack.

She’s tall, taller than me by a head, and her eyes shimmer with custom synns that I can’t place. Whatever she uses as skin is better than anything I’ve seen on the market, each pore carefully placed and without flaw. It almost looks like real skin but for the too-perfect dissonance that only comes from metal pretending.

She’s soft, almost organic and not made for war or labour, but she’s entirely incomparable to those who are forged into the embodiment of sex through the power of a hundred synns. No one could ever look at her and mistake her for anything but the superior being that she is.

“Good to finally meet the kid you’re so proud of,” Kali says, smiling warmly, her cherry-red lips curling up as her gaze runs along the length of me. That alone is enough to make my body feel like it’s burning from the inside. “Azra’s scared that I’ll do something to his precious little pups, and he’s been keeping them from me.”

“They’re sensitive,” Azra replies, though I’m barely even listening to him anymore, my every sense locked onto Kali as my heart pounds heavy in my chest. My throat dries as I force a calm smile.

I’ve never bothered with the idea of sexuality in my life, nor romance, even still I’m rather confident that I’m attracted to men. I’ve never felt even a hint of attraction looking at another woman before this moment, yet nothing I’ve ever felt before can compare to the raw passion now surging through my every cell.

My nostrils flare to better capture her scent, and my fingers twitch at my side as I imagine touching her perfection. My logic core is spinning fast, working to subdue the more frustrating of my biological functions that are rampaging far beyond my control.

This reaction is beyond suspicious.

This is artificial.

I run my best cleaning soft through my systems, but a sinking feeling in my gut warns me that this isn’t coming from my metal. Biological hacking is a much more frustrating technique to counteract, and I don’t have any specialised tools that would help fight against it.

“Honey, Art, this is my boss, Kali. Boss, my wife and daughter,” Dad does the introductions so casually that it’s hard to believe, waving his hands between us all.

Kali’s eyes shimmer with playfulness as she closes in on Mom, stepping in for a handshake.

“Good to meet the women keeping this man on his feet,” she smiles warmly.

“Hey now, you’re making me sound like a crippled old man. I’m not some old fart that needs to be propped up on his rust-plugged old synns! Don’t go retiring me just yet!” Dad shouts to Mom’s visible amusement.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Neither of them can feel this, the obsessive affection still drying my throat, which means that whatever she’s doing, she’s targeting me specifically.

This is… wonderful.

I never thought she might take me seriously.

There’s no chance that this is simply sexual harassment, as much as it would be easy to think it. No, Dad’s already told her about me, and about what I want to become.

This is a test and a lesson.

Anyone in management needs to be able to function even when they’ve been poisoned, hacked, or otherwise distracted. If this is enough to stop me, then I simply don’t have what it takes to make it in this world.

Teal comes to mind for but a moment, but I’m not going to be a failure like him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mom says, pulling me back out of my thoughts. “I’m glad that he’s got such a wonderful boss. You always hear the horror stories going around, and I must admit that I was a little worried…”

“Oh, it’s always better to have your worries proven wrong, than to be caught unaware because you never considered the possibility,” Kali nods firmly as finally she turns to me. “This is your gorgeous daughter? You’ve been hiding her from me! You didn’t tell me that she was this pretty!”

She pulls me in close, turning a simple handshake into a close embrace, even pressing her cheek up against mine. Whatever skin-synn she’s equipped with, she’s soft enough to make silk seem like sandpaper, and her scent directly invades my mind, paralysing me more effectively than any poison I know of. My legs are turning to jelly underneath me and I can feel some parts of my brain overheat and others shut down entirely. Worst of all, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Just as I’m starting to think that I’m going to drown in her arms, the world itself inverts.

That which is sweet becomes sour, the air turns foul as if I’ve had a long rotten fruit pressed into my face. Her once silken skin is slick with oil and even as she steps back from her friendly embrace it clings to me where we touched. I itch as phantom insects infesting her oils spread out all over me, nesting in my pores, and infecting me with her rot.

Opening my eyes I see terrible new illusions cast over the world.

Kali stands before me, a rotten corpse consumed by maggots and the small black beetles feasting on them, buzzing wings screeching like nails on a chalkboard. Her metal is rusted and twisted, shrieking with every shift and movement but still working against all reason, flickering red lights burn in her eye sockets as she looks me up and down, avid hunger bleeding from her white lips.

The forest around us is replaced with a land of rot and rust, a pit in the depths of the scrap heaps where the foul air can corrode the hardiest of steel. Where flesh that isn’t liquified is corrupted into something harder than leather and covered in warts, hard enough to make the maggots slow down to chew.

I swallow down the rising bile and smile at the walking corpse.

She returns the expression with a few too many teeth packed in too tightly, stolen and implanted by some sick mind.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” I reply, nearly choking on the words. “Dad hasn’t said much about you, but what he’s shared has all been good.”

“He’s been lying again, has he?” She replies, a croaking laugh releasing a large black fly from her rotten throat, which is quickly snapped up by one of the beetles. “Don’t believe a word of it, it’ll only hurt my reputation.”

“It doesn’t help that you’re acting so nice,” I suggest, tilting my head in feigned thought as I wade through my own twisted mindscape. “Maybe you should try being a bit meaner, I know Dad can take it.”

“Traitor!” Dad cries. “And from my own family?”

“Ah no, sounds like he’s a bit too cowardly…” I admit, facing the walking corpse as we sit near the bottom of the scrap heap. The sour flavour of poisoned air invades deeper with every breath, I’m not sure how long my lungs can survive down here…

It’s not real.

“Sounds like you’ll have to take responsibility then,” the corpse whispers through dried leathery lips. “A shame that I’m no good at being evil.”

The conversation topics eventually draw away from anything that I can easily join in on, offering me a little respite and a chance to recover. Kali shows us a few entertaining features of her holographic displays, with actors appearing in the lounge beside us to enact a short play. I’m treated to a rather different scene from the others, but thankfully I’m not forced to participate again.

There has to be some airborne chemical or pheromone at play here, maybe even a modified virus, but that’s not all, she has likely cracked my ocular synns, or even my logic core, to make the illusions this real. Still, I can’t give up, so I direct my logic core to separate and suppress the parts of my mind processing scent and taste, and while I doubt this will be enough to save me from whatever else she has planned, it might be enough to survive dinner.

“Coppelia, get the table set,” Kali orders her servant as the night lingers on.

Following the others through the thin gap in the pit of rot and rust, we come upon a table of bones. The others happily take their seats, their movement scattering a layer of fine black dust that floats impossibly lightly through the air.

No, not dust. Flies. Thousands of tiny little flies searching for warm flesh in which to bury their eggs.

I stay zoned out as dinner is served, some new terrible horror lying on the plate. I don’t even focus on the details as I eat and play my part in the light conversation. Now that my senses of smell and taste are dead the rest of this illusion is all so ridiculous that it’s hard to even take seriously.

It’s more of a shame that I can’t taste the actual meal underneath.

“You’re looking at a full spine-trap? One of ours?” Kali asks at the end of dinner. Mom and Dad are busy talking with Azra about work and the puppies, giving me a chance to speak directly with her. I’ll not likely ever have a chance to speak to someone this important again if I mess this up. Most people never get a chance like this.

“I am looking into a spine-trap, yes,” I nod slowly, considering my words. “I haven’t yet decided on a specific model, but unfortunately SynnTech’s publicly available products fall behind the competition. I’m still looking into my options but I intend to install the synn with the best possible performance.”

“You’ve put some serious thought into this decision,” She nods, suddenly seeming so small before me. The illusions fade away under my focused gaze, too simple to affect someone as capable as I.

“I have,” I reply proudly, more easily quieting my rebellious flesh as it falls into line. Why wouldn’t I be in complete control here? “While I’m intending on gathering a full synn-set in the next few years, the spine-trap is going to be the centre of my designs. It’s different to the rest. The more quickly I can get it, and adapt to it, the more value it has to me.”

“How do you mean?” Kali asks, swirling a drink in her hand, a feigned act to keep her composure. To think that I ever thought she was superior to…

That one almost got me.

My pride is stoked while her presence has been reduced to the point that she seems even less important than someone like Teal. A curiously subtle effect, all the more powerful with how obvious her opening attacks were and how much they’ve worn me down so far tonight.

“An improved logic core isn’t truly valuable until you can put it to use, and for that, you’ll need some high-spec software and a job to make use of it. Only labourers and fighters can get the most out of refitting their arms or legs, and I’m not interested in becoming a spider and getting lost in the deep limbo.”

“All good reasons to reject all else, but you didn’t answer my question,” Kali says, setting down her drink and staring at me across the table. I restrain the undeserved confidence that would have me speak over her. “You aren’t telling me why you want to slow your time.”

“Synns each have a price tag,” I reply, meeting her eyes. “We could both look over at Dad and Azra and measure the price of each part, though I’ll admit I can’t price the SynnTech custom. Anyway, that’s just memorizing a catalogue. Parts don’t make us worth anything, whatever I get could be pulled from my body and it’d still be worth the same.

“A person’s true value is in their skills, intelligence, and their capacity to creatively use the synns that they have. A spine-trap gives me time. Time to develop my skills, time to study, and time to adjust to any new synns that I install afterwards.

“Is there anything else that can increase my value as much as a spine-trap?”

I settle down, my rant done. It’s a little overzealous maybe, but she wanted me to convince her, and I feel confident that, through all the distractions from tonight, I’ve made myself clear. She’s been sitting and listening quietly a smile crawling up her lips, and as much as it bothers me, my muscles instinctively tighten in fright.

The newest attack is something a little more pure and simple. Terror deep enough to make my bones ache just from being in her presence.

“You’re an interesting one,” Kali whispers, leaning closer and resting her hand on mine, sending a shiver running from the depths of my guts up to my paralysed throat.

I sink into my seat as my pride collapses under itself, and the predator before me becomes clear to my senses. My heart lurches, and my blood freezes in my veins, as I barely keep from wetting myself.

“I’m glad that you’re taking me seriously,” I whisper, forcing my lips into a smile regretting only a slight quiver that I let through. “Someone easily controlled is someone easily turned against you, and worth so very little…”

Kali’s smile is much brighter than my own as she barks a short harsh laugh.

I’m sitting across from a modern predator and I can’t show weakness. My heart pounds harder in my chest and not just from the corrupted emotions that she’s implanted inside me, it’s thrilling to sit here making conversation with a truly important person.

She’s a corporate executive, a priest of the new gods, and she’s willing to treat me with this much respect. It’s like I’m living a dream.

“Perhaps you are worth investing in,” she murmurs loud enough for me to hear, turning the lie of my smile into the real thing.

“Tell me, would you be interested in an arch-synn?”

“A spine-trap arch-synn?” I ask, swallowing hard. “Just how powerful would this metal be?”

If a normal spine-trap breaks one in two users by slowing time down to half speed, what would a legendary arch-synn be capable of? How many people would survive installing it?

“Synapse response times are improved by roughly 1000%, slowing the perception of time down to roughly one-tenth speed,” she replies. “The product isn’t publicly available, partly due to the pressure it puts on the minds of the user. It requires a particularly resilient mind, and adaptable personality to survive the effects while retaining any semblance of sanity. Even spiders are normal by comparison to some of the subjects which survived testing the prototypes.”

So, that was the purpose of her emotional attacks? To see if I could adapt and resist the effects without making a fool out of myself? To prove that I could survive the synn that she’s offering?

“That sounds like an intriguing offer,” I lick my lips and lean over the table. “I don’t think it’s something that you would offer lightly.”

“All good things come at a price, but that we’ll save for later,” she turns her attention to Mom and Dad as they come to us.

“It’s about time we return home,” Mom says. “We wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.”

“You’re no bother at all,” Kali replies, placating her. “If you’re willing to leave Artemis in my care for the night, there is still more that we must discuss. She’ll be finishing school this year and she’ll need to be appropriately prepared if I’m going to have her working in my sector.”

Dad gives me a pat on the back and I can see the pride in his eyes.

If I were a normal person, is this where I would feel excitement? Satisfaction? Or is it something else I ought to feel?

This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and I will not waste it, but I do wonder what my trembling hands are trying to tell me.