Even though The Prophet wasn’t Pechorin, Sofiane recognized the person standing on the platform of tables as the Hero Baphomet. Between the pale skin and long black hair he looked remarkably similar to Pechorin, but protruding from his head were a set of horns from which dangled brass adornments. There was also something colder and more ruthless about him based on the few times Sofiane had interacted with him.
“Abused Non-Heroes! Victims of the Yishang! Friends! However you think of yourselves, you have come here seeking salvation, be it from the caprices of homicidal Heroes or the malevolence of those devils the “Yishang.” I am here to give you that salvation,” Baphomet said, his rumbling baritone pausing for the cheers that followed.
Sofiane inched forward on the belfry. He debated jumping down to stop Baphomet, but the trouble was that Baphomet was significantly stronger. Even more so since Sofiane's willful stagnation. A straight-up fight between the two would go poorly. That aside, a part of him also wanted to know what Baphomet was preaching. There was no possible way for Baphomet to have learned the truth about the Yishang unless one of his former teammates told him, which Sofiane doubted. So what was this "salvation" he kept talking about?
“If there are any among you who lack the nerve to hear the truth of this world and to do what is necessary to cleanse it, leave now,” Baphomet said.
None of the Non-Heroes moved an inch.
“I see that I stand before the faithful. That I stand before those courageous enough to fight back against the tyrants under whom you toil and suffer. Now you are ready to hear the truth of this world: The Yishang are not demi-gods, nor are they creators. They are deceivers and charlatans. They are the true name of the Entropic Axis, and they do not fight to push back the tide of entropy, but to hasten this world into chaos.
“How many of you are certain of how long you slumbered before your home was de-Misted? How many of you are certain of your memories from one moment to the next? Is it possible that the Yishang have asked you to see illusions where the truth stands before your eyes? Hear me now, friends and believers, the Yishang has beguiled you into thinking in reverse. That up is down, that wrong is right, that the past is the future. I speak now as a Hero who has been close enough to the Yishang to hear their plans directly. Even now I am embedded in their camp so that I can counter the lies they peddle.
“Hear me: They have falsified your memories to believe they are opening up new regions, when in reality they are casting regions of your fellow Non-Heroes into the abyss of chaos and entropy. Po-Lin was once a planet of a hundred regions or more, and the Heroes and the Yishang have conspired to slowly destroy them. They have deceived you because they know their elite cadre of Heroes would stand no chance against the tide of those they insult with that label “Non-Hero.” Well, I say you are not Non-Heroes, you are humans! And those who claim themselves to be Heroes? I would call them Non-Humans!”
The crowd roared and Sofiane’s knuckles turned white against the stone belfry. The Yishang exploited Heroes and Non-Heroes alike, but Baphomet’s reasons were wholesale fabrications as to how and why. What Sofiane didn’t understand was what he was getting out of this. Why was Baphomet whipping the Non-Heroes into a frenzy? Was it simple boredom after he fell out of the top ranks? Or had he really convinced himself of his half-baked conspiracy theories? Regardless, Sofiane had to stop this. The Non-Heroes themselves were no threat, but the Yishang might do something rash if they saw strange things happening, and that was enough to concern Sofiane.
He zipped off the cathedral roof and set off at a sprint for the plaza, Baphomet’s words echoing through the streets as he ran.
“They think of you as powerless. They think of you as helpless. They think of you as nothing but set dressing and scenery to be torn down at their convenience. But what if I told you there exists a type of weapon that could make any Hero fear you? A weapon with which you could defend yourselves?”
The crowd made confused, affirmation-seeking murmurs, trying to decide out if such a thing was possible. Or if it was too good to be true. Sofiane, however, knew that such a thing existed, and adrenaline shot through his veins. There was only one thing that could make a Non-Hero a threat to a Hero, but there was no possible way Baphomet could have replicated FDJ weapons. Only Shuixing knew how to build them and she had burned her research years ago. There was no chance someone like Baphomet could mimic her success. But what else could it possibly be?
“I tell you, friends, such a weapon exists, and the secrets to making such a weapon lie in this very town,” Baphomet continued.
As he said this, Baphomet’s eyes finally caught sight of the bright purple ball of lightning beelining for his stage. There was an uproar from the crowd as a Hero interuptted The Prophet’s speech, proving his message of oppressive and tyrannical Heroes true. Sofiane felt a twinge of guilt as he realized Joad was watching from somewhere in the crowd.
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“Baphomet, what are you doing here? What is all this? ” Sofiane asked.
The brief look of surprise on Baphomet’s face was overcome by a grin that made Sofiane uneasy.
“What am I doing? I’m taking Po-Lin from the usurpers and giving it back to the people. The ones you insult with the name, “Non-Heroes,” as if “Heroes” were the default form of life and everyone existed to serve you,” Baphomet said, taking a step towards Sofiane.
Sofiane’s hand went to his rapier, ready to defend himself. He wasn’t strong enough to defeat Baphomet, but he was faster and could escape if necessary.
“What the hell are you talking about!? The Yishang are bastards, absolutely, but what is this crap about fake memories and deleted regions? You know damn well that's bullshit!”
Something flickered in Baphomet’s smiling eyes and Sofiane realized his mistake. Baphomet wasn’t speaking to Sofiane, he was speaking to the crowd.
“How convenient for you that it turns out Heroes aren’t the problem after all. I’m sure that’s great consolation for all those indiscriminately murdered by Heroes over the years,” Baphomet said.
“You’re a Hero too!” Sofiane shot back.
“I am. However, I use this status for the benefit of all, unlike those such as yourself who use it for their narrow self-interest.”
Sofiane’s heart pounded in his ears. Baphomet hadn't intended to set a trap, but Sofiane had made one himself and walked into it. Only the full disclosure of the truth about the Yishang and their playground and about the Celestial money machine might counter Baphomet’s lies, but that required far too much explanation before the Non-Heroes could even hope to understand what Sofiane was blabbering on about, let alone believe him. And why should they believe him when their Prophet was offering immediate action, and all Sofiane’s interpretation could offer was a more complete picture of how helpless they all were? How helpless everyone was?
“I should thank you, Sofiane, for giving me the opportunity to show my faithful flock I am not just empty words but a man willing to take action,” Baphomet said.
Although Sofiane still made periodic dungeon runs as part of Team Harald, his battle instincts had atrophied from the days of fighting off an overpowered Xian. However, this sluggishness saved his life when Baphomet swung low at Sofiane’s hips and the rapier that wasn’t quite out of Sofiane’s belt caught the bunt of an oversized wine bottle that seemed to come out of nowhere. Strangely, Sofiane’s first thought was about how ridiculous it was to lose his third sword to being thrown through the fabric of reality. His second thought a moment later was that he was in a lot of danger.
“H-How did you—?”
Jarred awake, Sofiane’s instincts screamed at him to leap backwards as Baphomet swung again. Fortunately, his attacker was clumsier and less familiar with the weapon than its previous wielder. Natsuko could have nailed him without a second thought, but Baphomet had clearly not had much practice with the cumbersome bottle. He hadn’t even drained the wine yet.
“I don’t know where you got that, Baph, but stop screwing around and put it down!” Sofiane said.
Sofiane could hear the wishful-thinking in his own words. Baphomet knew exactly what he had in his hands.
“I’m not screwing around, Sofiane.” This time, Baphomet wasn’t speaking to the crowd.
Sofiane backed away, glancing behind to make sure he wouldn’t be ambushed by any of the Non-Heroes. For the time being they were giving the Heroes their space.
“And how exactly do you plan to give everyone their own bottle, huh?” Sofiane asked.
“Now why would I tell you that?” Baphomet replied.
All Sofiane needed was the unconscious flick of his opponent’s eyes towards the Mage’s College to know how. He was after Shuixing. At the same time, Baphomet saw something in Sofiane’s eyes that told him Sofiane had pieced his plan together. He lunged and Sofiane burst into Ball Lightning, launching himself over and past the crowd and towards the slanted roof of a townhouse. He slid feet-first down the far side of the roof, his mind half focused on escaping, half on remembering what Baphomet’s abilities were. He was a Fire Hero, he was a control type… did he have a movement ability? Shit. He did. Sofiane drove his heels into the roof and jumped sideways. In the next moment the roof exploded in a bomb blast of fire and porcelain tiles. The shockwave sent Sofiane hurtling off the roof.
One advantage of his high Finesse stat was his ability to act without thinking. In mid-air tumble, Sofiane’s hand shot to a flagpole and grabbed on, finding himself hanging one-handed over a pool of magma summoned by Baphomet on the street below. He hung for just long enough that Ball Lightning’s cooldown came up before kicking off the building and jumping over the magma pool. As expected, Baphomet was right behind him the second his feet touched the pavement. Holding his ability in reserve, Sofiane waited until the sun glinted off Baphomet’s bottle before popping back into Ball Lightning to dodge the attack. Zooming ahead, he was able to get just enough of a lead to outpace Baphomet to the Mage’s College.
Sofiane sprinted through the ruined doors and down the hallway as frightened students and faculty peered out at him He had no idea how long it would take Baphomet to catch up, but as the entire building trembled from the impact of Baphomet’s ability, he guessed not long.
At Shuixing’s laboratory he found the door locked and, lacking the time to knock politely, kicked the door down. Inside he found what looked like a horror scene, with bodily fluids and strange chemicals in vials and insane ramblings stapled to the walls. At the center of it all was Shuixing, slumped unconscious with a needle stuck in her thigh.