Chapter 80: The Mailed Fist.
The three before me were inconsolable. Their minds drifting back to the stories they had heard growing up within the confines of the Labyrinth.
Tales of the Seeking Drake.
A gargantuan mass of writhing, twisting, scheming flesh that consumed all within its path. Perverting once normal creatures into furniture or masonry. Using still-living bodies to build up its unholy palace.
I could see it now. Within the memories I had absorbed.
Halls as tall as mountains, with pillars that touched the skies. Bricks made of sentient soup enclosed in cartilage lining up the interior of the Drake’s domain. A whole city within the Labyrinth turned into his image.
A place where no cell died. Where entropy could not touch its previously fragile occupants. Where the Drake could feel truly at home.
‘The place is more like a menagerie than anything else.’ I mused. ‘The Drake loves life as much as he loves himself. With all its diverse imperfections and evolutionary histories. His perfect paradise is a zoo where he can admire different cellular structures without fearing for their well-being. A museum dedicated to the myriad paths that evolution can take without losing an ounce of the primordial, raw desperation for survival that the Drake worships.’
It was strange. To think on such a house of horrors and feel… so little.
My body did not shiver, though I felt as though a few twitches were warranted. Nor did my skin grow paler with dread, as I considered the many, many souls still trapped within those halls.
It was, as if my own cells were taking their roles more seriously. My new abilities giving them the flexibility to determine that such involuntary reactions were useless.
I felt the stale cavern air of the Warehouse on my skin, and my body decided that it did not need to correct my temperature. I smelt the lingering scent of pizza and roasted centipede wafting over from the cafeteria and my body decided that it would not trigger a hunger response, despite me feeling as if I could use a bite. I saw the shapes of the Enforcers; with far more clarity than my previous eyes could have managed, and my body decided that it did not need to dilate my pupils or change the shape of my corneas.
All those physiological responses that were automatic on normal people were now clear for me to see. Playing out within me as if each and every cell were a being all unto their own. A nation of perfectly synchronized, perfectly educated and perfectly dedicated workers all acting in concert.
Deferring to my conscious mind only when I actively sought to re-assert control.
‘It’s as if I’m no longer human.’ I considered.
Walking around the three with slow, meticulous steps as I took in the faces from the crowd. Observing their own physiological reactions and matching them with the emotions I perceived from their minds. All without even having to think about it.
As if this level of combined awareness was all too normal.
Just like before, I felt the tingles of past, present and future echoes coming from the cobweb. Seeing hundreds upon hundreds of speeches I could be giving and the reactions each and every person would have to my words.
All while my own power predicted what my cells would do in the future and my cells used that information to re-arrange themselves pre-emptively.
‘Now that is a fascinating discovery. Fascinating, and utterly terrifying. My powers are mixing together without my input. Cutting out the redundancies faster and faster. Preparing for blows that may never come. For actions that I haven’t decided to take.’
I saw myself through the eyes of the audience.
Realizing that the vacant expression on my face was putting a lot of people in a lot of stress.
Prudence saw me and imagined me as a gator, lurking below the murky green waters of the everglades. Hidden just out of sight and ready to pounce on any unsuspecting strangers at a moment’s notice.
Kaito saw me and imagined me as a tiger. Eyeing its prey from the shadows of a tropical jungle and waiting for the right moment to strike.
Olga saw me and imagined me as an android from her home world. A good approximation of a human. Wrapped in silicone and good manners to hide the inhuman shell that lay beneath the veneer of civility.
Jacob saw me and imagined one of the mutants of the Mojave. A sort of chameleon-bear hybrid that could blend in perfectly with the sun-bleached stones of the desert as it preyed upon caravans and unlucky scavengers. He recalled the glint of their eyes on cold desert nights as the reflected the moonlight and he was becoming more and more nervous as he noticed my eyes reflecting the bioluminescence of the mushrooms and the lamps in the exact same way.
Agnes saw me and imagined the madmen. Those survivors who had managed to make it through hordes of zombies and months of rationing, only to snap at the most inconvenient times. She realized that my breathing was perfectly stable. Without any inflections that might give away some underlying humanity.
Helga saw me and recalled her own visions. The things she had been forced to see, when she and Clover had first attacked me, all those weeks ago. Back when she had been using illusions to lure gnomes to their doom. It was taking all the willpower she could marshal, to keep herself from breaking down in hysterics.
Ryan saw me and broke down in hysterics.
His own mind taking him back to the bad place beneath the manse. The special place where the Tall Man took those that displeased me. He saw flashes of it now.
Feeling echoes of the nothingness tingle at the corners of his sanity. His ears ringing with the sound of silence and his nerves burning with the memories of Sarcophagus Solomon. With all the torments that Anezka had seen fit to inflict upon him.
‘All that fear. All that anxiety surrounding me, and yet I feel almost nothing. The calm is… oppressive. Not surprising, perhaps. Since I know so much of what has happened and what will happen, but still…’
A normal human might have felt their mouth becoming dry. Their brow filling with beads of sweat as the stress ate away at them.
Yet I had to force myself to care about the absence of these reactions. If I didn’t become fixated on them, chances were good that I would never have noticed their absence in the first place.
‘Its almost as if my body was a computer. My software parsing streams of data with the cold calculus of a machine and deleting redundancies or inefficient processes wherever they may be found.’
That realization coaxed even more memories from my subconscious.
Recollections of events that hadn’t happened to me. To this version of me, at least.
I thought back to the other version of me. Trapped in that metal prison. A cocktail of chemicals dictating what he felt. Whether he would be steeped in bliss or seared in the flames of hell.
Those impressions, were eerily similar to what I was feeling now, only, my own biological matter was dictating what I should and shouldn’t feel, rather than Anezka.
I frowned. Or, at least, I felt that it would be appropriate for me to frown.
My face didn’t actually carry on with the motion.
My eyes going from the prisoners, to the descriptions of my Shifter abilities. Specifically, to the cornerstone of the Drake’s lifestyle. A combination of [Regeneration], [Regenerate Other], [Mitosis], [Acclimation], [Grow], [Shrink], [Stretch], [Harden], [Soften] and most crucially [Metamorphosis]
[Solomon’s Perfect Vicissitude X]
Grants the User the ability to regenerate any biological matter within their physical senses at a rate of + 5, 000 % of their current total body mass at a cost of 500 Psy per second. User may spend additional Psy when out of combat to pre-prepare regeneration charges while in combat, up to a total of 50% of their total Psy pool. The cost for regenerating foreign biological matter is doubled. The cost of applying regeneration charges on foreign biological matter is doubled.
Grants the User a passive regenerative effect that heals 20% of their current body mass per second. Targets that have been modified by the User benefit from this effect at half the efficiency for up to a year. This effect negates damage from entropy.
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Grants the User the ability to automatically adapt to their present circumstances via a complete sense of proprioception, an increase in mass, a decrease in mass, the hardening of tissue, the softening of tissue and the instinctive application of all other currently held Shifter abilities into said adaptations. User may transform up to + 5, 000 % of their current total body mass at a cost of 500 Psy per second. User may extend their proprioception to other living beings through maintained physical contact with the User.
Grants the User the ability to freely manipulate any biological matter they are currently touching with their currently held Shifter abilities at a rate of + 5, 000 % of their current total body mass at a cost of 750 Psy per second. Physical contact with a piece of the User must be maintained throughout this process. Targeting restrictions of other abilities are ignored due to this effect.
Grants the User the ability to make their transformations of foreign biological matter semi-permanent, so long as the target fails to resist the transformation effect and physical contact is maintained until completion. Targets may resist the effect by continuous expenditure of Psy through Enhancer or Shifter abilities of at least Tier V. Targets that run out of Psy or are unable to maintain these abilities automatically fall under the influence of the User’s ability.
Decreases the activation time of all Shifter abilities by - 50% per every 5 ability levels
Decreases the activation cost of all Shifter abilities by – 50 % per every 5 ability levels.
The potency of all these effects increases by 300% every five levels.
These effects can be overcharged with Psy through this ability.
‘I suppose I can’t be angry at them. I’d be rather nervous too, if I was facing down someone with these powers.’
With this ability, I could permanently change someone or something against their will. All that was required was continuous physical contact, and for them to be less adept at Shifter powers than someone on the fifth Tier.
‘And considering how rare masters at that level are…’
I shook my head.
Forcing my body to display some emotion.
“I assure you all, that I am not the Seeking Drake.” I began.
The enforcers only wept harder.
Their eyes trembling as some lost control of their bowels. The resulting smell making most of the audience gag and fall back in a panic.
Again, the old me would have at least scrunched up his nose a bit.
But my body did not consider this a problem.
My nose simply vanished, as my exposed skin began to absorb oxygen through enlarged pores that filtered out the noxious fumes. The precious gas going directly into my bloodstream without any need for my lungs.
The fact that it was so seamless, so natural, was more disquieting than the loss of nose in the first place.
I had to willfully contrate afterwards. To force the changes back and bring my face back to that of a normal human.
‘Honestly, I wish my body would read more into the social aspects of being human. Not having a nose might be beneficial, in that I was spared the smell, but the others are even more freaked out now. My cells are already assimilating information from the cobweb. From [Limited Omniscience]. It wouldn’t hurt for them to stay away from changes that carry negative consequences in a social setting.’
It was then that I was hit by a sudden realization.
I had worked so hard for a second Type. Pushed my body to the limit time and time again in that endeavor. Only for the acquisition of that Type to make me more monstrous than ever before.
So that I had to face the reality that I was less human than when I’d started.
And then, to top it all off, I had to face the coming vibrations in the cobweb. My eyes glazing over the many overlapping iterations of the past and present, to see the choices I would have to make. As well as the consequences of not making them.
‘It is the trolley problem on an intergalactic scale. Either step up and accept that measures have to be taken against oppressors, slavers and killers or do nothing and allow their victims to keep suffering. Some will bend, after being exposed to my presence and the promise of an eternal afterlife in my realm within Pandemonium. But there will be those that will act like Anezka. Villains and degenerates who would sooner break than bend. Those who will be truly irredeemable. What to do then? Should I put my personal qualms aside and mind-control them for the greater good? Or should I do as the Drake suggested, and end their lives instead? Which option would they prefer? Which option would make me into less of a monster? Which options would allow me to sleep at night? Actually, can I even sleep at night? Now that my body is like this?’
I followed one of the strands in the cobweb to seek an answer and found it at once.
I could sleep. In a sense. Though perhaps it would be more correct to say that I could willfully shut down parts of my brain so that I fell into a mini-coma. Otherwise, my body wouldn’t feel tired. It was simply too efficient at processing food and oxygen and energy. Too good at staying alive and alert. Too… perfect, for such human vulnerabilities.
To make matters worse, it would seem getting drunk was off the table too. So there went my afternoon plans.
‘I suppose I can always drain myself of Psy, if I want to catch a real nap.’ I mused. ‘Though, again. That is easier said than done. Psy regeneration has always worked off percentages, and with my current total and the upgraded abilities, I don’t even know if I could spend it faster than I got it back.’
My mind felt irritation, but my new body refused to allow any sign of it to surface. My eyes going back to all the people in all the earths suffering under slavery or war or famine. Peasants huddled in their farms while raiders burned their crops. Wives and children huddling behind stone walls as armies battered their gates. While sons and fathers died on the walls.
I saw groups coming together in prayer for queer deities. Knives in their hands and tears in their eyes as they stole the lives of prisoners. Of children that were born with different coloured hair or eyes.
Would my rule truly be so evil? All it would take would be a slight blast of my presence. A shared memory of what I could offer. Of bliss beyond comprehension.
‘I would not be controlling them. Not truly. I would merely, provide incentives for good behaviour. Parents, good ones anyway, do that all the time. Would that not be preferable? To this… this… chaotic disorder?’
Then I thought back to the girl in Hong Kong. Of the promise I had made and fulfilled. Of what her reaction had been. Hers and that of many, many others.
The worship they had succumbed to. The fervor they held for me, after just a few fractions of a second. The hunger they were burdened with, after my presence was gone.
‘It is a load of fresh manure. So monumental that it becomes awe-inspiring.’ I thought with distaste. ‘To remain as I am now, or to slow down my progress is to condemn an infinite number of victims to horrible, disquieting fates. To continue my current plans is to don the mantle of a Tyrant. To become not just the monster I am now, but the monster I always feared I could be. The monster these three think I am. Either way, people will suffer. Only, they will suffer less if I employ a mailed fist as my go-to strategy. By orders of magnitude.’
It was almost funny, in a way.
I could become the greatest humanitarian, the greatest emancipator, the greatest hero to ever live. I could bestow upon humanity a golden age. Free from crime and bondage and persecution. I could be someone better than the Sully in my wildest childhood dreams.
‘And all it would take, all I’d have to give, was my morals. The ideals that make me the person I am now.’
The impulse to shake my head was automatically supressed by my body. So that I kept up my blank, calculating expression.
‘No. Not that. Never that. I am willing to do much and more to protect my family. To protect humanity and all the innocents within my range. But that is one line I will not cross. Not without good reason at least. Anezka and Randall could not be helped. I don’t want that to become a habit. I don’t want to take the easy way out. People deserve the free will to make their own decisions. To make their own mistakes.’
My neck did not move, though I wanted to nod.
‘I will help the downtrodden. I will save the victims. I will punish the wicked and I will show their societies a better way. I will even douse them in my presence and uplift them into being Espers. Giving them the promise of an afterlife of sorts in my domain. But I will not become more of a Tyrant than I already am. I will not rely on [Domination].’
I ended up focusing on my own flesh then, as well as the minds inside the Warehouse. My physical perceptions sharpening as I willed my attention towards my eyes and ears and nose.
Then, I managed a slow, deliberate nod. One that almost came across as human. All while releasing my presence and narrowing its effects on the three before me.
They gasped in response. Or rather, made noises that could be considered gasping. Their minds drowning in the indescribable pleasure my Psy infused into them.
“Now then, please. Do not be afraid.”
Ramasham Tor Pod gave way at once. His mind opening itself to the memories I was infusing into him. To the beauty and bliss of my realm within Pandemonium.
Bloody Flayer, on the other hand, resisted. If only for a short time. Her body twitching and spasming as trails of greenish foam fell from the corners of her beak.
Guantargo was the only one who came close to stopping me. His screen showing the same ability the boss beetle had, all those weeks ago. He was clinging to it with all he had. Combining his efforts with Enhancer and Shifter abilities to change and strengthen his nervous system.
Yet it did not hold, when I allowed more of me to flow into him.
His will crumbled like an old dam. My Psy flooding his everything and washing away all resistance.
“You have seen it.” I told them. “You know what is coming. You know that I, am coming. And you know what I will bring.”
Ramasham Tor Pod lost control of his bowels. Again.
I ignored it.
‘These are not humans, after all. I can be allowed some small bit of leeway.’
I approached them. Slowly.
“But it does not have to be this way.” I said.
Changing the timber and pitch and cadence of my speech, ever so slightly, so that it added to my presence. So that they’d be forced to love me even more. So that the image and memory of me would be seared into their very spirits. Clinging to their consciousness in place of their friends and loved ones. Pushing out all ideas that were not me.
“I can spare your people. I can leave them alone, though they too currently plot to delve right in when my species becomes integrated into the Labyrinth.”
I touched Bloody Flayer. Lifting her beak so that her beady eyes stared into mine own.
“I can make you strong. Stronger than you are now. Stronger than you have ever been.”
I waved at Peachy.
“She knows my favor. She was but Tier 2, when she came to me. A weak girl sacrificed by her ancestor. Yet, I repaid her kindness in turn and now, she sits at Tier 3. Well on her way to being an elite.”
I sent another pulse of pleasure coursing through them. Electrifying the edges of their perceptions.
“If I could do that for her, imagine what I could do for you. Tier 4. Or maybe even Tier 5, would not be out of the question. Besides, it isn’t as if I am asking for much.”
Guantargo spoke. Drool falling off his lips and down unto his brown fur.
“You want to end the gnomish people.” He said.
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call them people, but yes.” I confirmed. “If you convince your own leaders to back down from attacking dimensions inhabited by humans, and if you agree to sit out my battles with the gnomes… You will be rewarded. I will help you. As if you were humans. I will defend you from aggressors and bring you into my realm after the end, if you so choose. That, and I will provide aid to your own champions. Bringing them to even higher Tiers. So long as they tutor humanity as if they were their own. Think of it like, a pact of mutually beneficial programs. I will help your best and you will help the least of us maintain a certain, standard of living.”
To his credit, the man did not break. He kept his black eyes locked on to mine throughout. Wheezing as his nerves burned from within his body.
“And if we will not serve?”
I forced myself to smile at that.
“Unfortunately, you will serve. I have seen you. All of you. And I have decided that I want you in my designs. I am merely giving you the option of the easy way, or the hard way. The choice is yours.”
Then, the three of them and Orphan Maker loved me, and despaired.