We are being hunted.

I’m sure of it now. First, the travesty in the Oversec that saw our Incubi slaughtered, then the sudden theft and murder within our own walls! A Mirror went missing! A Mirror and his entire cell along with him. But that’s not all–one of our administrative nodes just… vanished. Gone. Like it was never there.

Kin by blood and clan, kin near and far, we… are being hunted.

Two hours ago, I received a report from the operational mirror of the Oversec dive. I’m sure you have all seen the report–but much has been withheld.

Against the shapeless enemy, one of our Incubi survived, though she remains severely wounded in mind. Our best menders remain at task of restoring her to fullest health, but from all the memories we assembled, I believe we have glimpsed a silhouette of the enemy–the only we know capable of engaging us in the realm of thoughts.

One that certain of our number claimed were pacified.

The Low Masters of Noloth have returned to inflict upon us the bidding of their foul masters. Of this, I have no concrete evidence, but I must beseech all who are present to think–think! Think of who else could have inflicted this on us? Who else?

What is worse, they have access to the mind of a Highflame Godclad. I know little of how compromised Abrel Greatling is, but two separate dives into her cognition ended in the decimation of our forces.

It is because such unknowns that we must not reveal our intentions openly. If elements of our great foes have joined forces, we must play a soft game in order to encourage them to make mistakes. Further provocation may lead to uncontrollable escalation with our Stormtree auxiliaries already on edge, and open war is not favorable at present.

I am now casting a motion to each of you, fellow elders, to call for Contingency Obscura. Let no truth remain unmuddied beyond these walls. Let no waters remain clear for any who exist beyond this inner circle.

Finally, we are not without a path to pursue. I have been informed that though the true depths of our foe have not been uncovered, there is a person of interest that we must secure. An individual thought to be an acolyte of the Low Masters. Some of you may already have awareness of him considering his… exposure in recent news from the incident in the Warrens.

Effective immediately, I recommend that we deploy our most trusted and effective assets in the containment and interrogation of one Acolyte Aedon Chambers.

-Ori-Thaum, Court of Elders

15-2

Ignite

And all of a sudden, the world was new to Avo. Beholding his deed–White-Rab staring at a nearby edge ebbing with eldritch distortions, wobbling like a toddler steadied by Reva on his arm–new comprehension dawned within the ghoul.

He just committed an act of creation.

His power went beyond the merely disruptive or subversive. Now, the spark of an epiphany ignited within him.

For the briefness of his empowerment, his compulsion was a step above base desire. He killed, and he had cause to do so. He tortured, and the targets of his cruelty reaped the bounty sown by their own vices. He consumed and fed a need deeper than mortal hunger each time.

This moment, however, was the truest taste of satisfaction.

Reva and White-Rab had known what he intended to offer, but their understanding was conceptual; theoretical. To know of something wasn’t to comprehend it in totality. Thus, granted the gift of godhood to his mind-kindred, what he beheld was awe and disbelief.

He gifted much on the whims of a desire. Much more than many in this city would ever dare dream to ask.

Dream.

New Vultun was so broken. So miserable. And beautiful. Between the rivers of misery and the ever-rising ocean of bloodshed that supped its flow from the constancy of death, life prevailed. So many were dying, but still so many chose to live, and more than the fallen rose the living despite it all.

At the base of his heart, Avo thought of all the lives that were and the siren call of violence ran through his veins. It would be a thrill above all others to torment them all at once, so yearned the beast. But disgust rose in roiling tides from the expanse of his new consciousness, and between the clashing over waves, he perceived a grounds between.

What damned so many was not the vileness of their deeds nor even the avarice in their hearts, but the inability to survive their mistakes.

Avo thought of himself a mere month ago and flinched at the pitiable thing he was. He clawed at the dark once. Died, and died again when he misstepped or was found wanting. If not for the blessing of his resurrection, his journey would have ended before the first day ever closed.

To the city, death was the basic economy. To him, death was his truest instructor. To the FATELESS, death was the greatest enemy.

He glimpsed the tapestry again and saw a question he wished to explore. These new thoughts weren’t mature enough to be considered a philosophy, but within them was a seed of a promise–a potential destination for the world to approach.

What if all could return whenever they wanted? What if all could die whenever they so chose? What if all that existed was severed from the chains of permanence, and every murder was forced to imbibe a replica of their victim’s consciousness, what if the meek were to be granted the tools of their abusers after their return from death? What world would be birthed from the anvil of such a place of everlasting permanence?

What became of a person when they had to face their deeds in totality?

The flames of epiphany crackled into a stable fire, and Avo surrendered himself to a low laugh. “I see it,” he whispered. His sibilant chuckles punctured the guts of silence like a shiv. “Is this what you wanted? Zein? A dream? My dream? To make all of us face each other. To be ourselves and become each other too?”

No reply came. Not until one of his templates spoke.

[Avo, your new “consangs” are staring at you,] Abrel said with a sigh. [Again. Stop being creepy as shit for three seconds. Yeah, you found your life’s purpose or something, but most of us pump our hands, do drugs or dance or cheer when we’re happy. We’re going to need to get your whispering under control if we ever get into high society.]

And that was all it took for the base mind’s appetite to be aroused.

Guilder flesh had tasted good from what few scraps he enjoyed. Pristine meat. Their blood like liquid ecstasy.

Again, the bulk of his mind shuddered in dread and revulsion, and the negativity reverberated into Avo. He grunted in annoyance. Humans were so easily bothered. How boring. How unadventurous. He had taken them into himself to learn their nature, the least they could do was chance a look from his.

[No, the fuck it is,] Lip snapped, remerging from her tantrum. [It’s enough that I fucking got eaten by a fucking–motherfucking rotlick! But when this same fucking rotlick demands that I join him in the suckling of flesh, I ask that lines be drawn and I be removed from his consciousness. You took my life, now if any of your delusional adherence to “personal choice” is true, spare me from consciousness.]

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A chorus of agreements when up with her, and Avo immediately marked those templates as “bores.” A lesser percentage–perhaps maybe only five or so–sent him signals of quiet interest. This pleased and amused him in equal measure. There were some that could yet be shown new delights, but he and they fell as a minority even within his own mind.

His consciousness continued to be run like a tyranny.

“Does the Heaven please you?” Avo asked, turning his attention away from the internal.

“It doesn’t feel like anything I’ve ever experienced,” White-Rab breathed. A sheen of sweat curtained his forehead, and he just sat there, feeling the world around him with his new touch. “It’s like I can… grasp reality.” He barked a laugh. “It feels impossible.”

“That will never be true again.” The space they occupied felt too small for the occasion, the false scenery lacking. Beneath the pulsating broadcast of his Sanguinity, he laid his touch upon all that were present as a vague christening. “Impossible. It’s just a memory now. A feeling. Heavens are implants of impossibility. All that wasn’t is. All that couldn’t be will be. A facet of totality is yours absolutely.”

He looked at Reva briefly and a new shine glinted behind the apprehension. She remained wary of him, but her thoughtstuff betrayed her desire. The direction of her focus flowed toward White-Rab, and she yearned to turn her attention toward the object of her joy rather than a specter of omens unknown.

[You should make yourself distant for now,] Benhata said. [Keep an eye on them of course. But leave them alone. They’re going to need time to get used to this. Sleep too, probably.]

Then before that, he needed to get the matter of his payment settled. “I will call on you. Soon. Will need your skill for that favor. Going to be an interesting dive. Difficult. Even for you.”

At once, the Necro was incensed. Even with the new Soul burning inside him, the roots of his nature habits held strong. “We'll see. With what you just gave me, it’ll take running up against Ori-Thaum’s inner circle to make me think twice.”

Avo responded by baring his fangs in a wide smile. Reva’s mouth dropped open. White-Rab let out a breath and began to laugh incredulously. “What the fuck. You’re serious?”

“I’m going to…” He drew up the mem-data he consumed from the Ori-Thaum administrative node and considered what he wanted to do. Ultimately, it was up to Kae. This was her revenge he was authoring. The only certain thing was the infiltration and capture of the Glaive behind her misfortune. The path he took required the participation of the Agnos. “I will let you know what I need. Contact you through the Deep Bazaar. You have access?”

“Of course,” White-Rab scoffed. He frowned thereafter as his mind drifted over certain facts. “So… seeing how your mind burns everything–”

“Will have a proxy. He will talk to you in my stead. Will have memories of our conversation right now. Will serve as my interface with the world while I am… inimical to cognition.”

White-Rab blinked. “Right. Numb.” He opened his mouth, but no words followed. He didn’t seem sure about what he wanted to say. “What are you going to do now?”

The question was a direct one, but Avo’s answer stood broad. “I’m going to start boiling this city. Things are going to change. It will be grand. And terrible. I’m going to give the people a new monster to choose.”

“You’re going to start redistributing Frames, are you?” Reva asked, cutting to the bone of the matter.

Something inside Avo considered killing her and burning away White-Rab’s capacity for love to be done with this annoyance. But patience prevailed, and in her Avo still saw an asset worth cultivating.

Ideas were a contagion as well, and if she could succumb to him in time without direct alteration, then perhaps he would be a vector of change in philosophy as well. “Perhaps. Are you against it? Would you feel anxious if I granted more people the privilege you suffered so much to claim?”

She swallowed. “You’re making gods. Stormtree won’t–”

“But you will.” Avo met her gaze and felt her will quiver. He used one of his Echoheads to gesture toward White-Rab. “This was my boon. Given at my leisure. There are many who deserve such gifts. But so many will just fall. So many will never know a second chance.”

Looking inside, he found himself focusing on Corner, and the former street squire just gave him a casual shrug. [Shit end, but I was a ‘Clad. I’d say that’s a happier ending than most will ever know in this place; for the span of three years, Corner belonged to Corner, and there’s nothing nobody can do to take that from me.]

An alien feeling of regret and shame welled up within Avo. If he had spent longer reviewing the Fallwalkers, he would have felt pressed to claim Corner alive. This one’s acceptance was rare and pure, and the casual response to death was quite Draus-like as well.

[Don’t do that shit,] Corner said. [You know the score. So do it. Take the city. Cut its nuts off and wear that shit like a necklace if you want. That’s what it means to be a squire. That’s what it means to be ‘Clad. That’s the only real way to live.]

Some of the other templates disagreed, but Corner didn’t care.

“Keep your resistance strong,” Avo said, channeling the inspiration passed to him over to Reva. “Defy me if you want. Align with me if you will. I am not your master. I am not your god. But live with me. Live with me and I will grant you new powers. I will grant you a new choice. Let the ugliness of what I am be spoken. I could burn my will into both of you. Neither can stop me. Change you how I want.”

“So… why don’t you?” Reva asked, genuinely confused. So long she has been fighting this war, and now she found herself faced with a monster that refused to crush her throat when given the chance.

Madness.

Wonderful madness.

“Because I do not dream of a world in chains,” Avo said. “But a world without. And a world of consequence and choice eternal.”

With that, he settled the last words of his growing ideals and turned inward again. “I will see you both soon. Enjoy your new freedoms. Enjoy the peace of today. Nothing will be guaranteed hereafter.”

“Just burning away without a goodbye, huh?” White-Rab said.

“Goodbye is for the decaying. The dying. The ephemeral. We will both remain tomorrow. And all the tomorrows after that. Until we do not. Then, it will not matter.”

And so Avo manifested the session for Chambers’ Auto-Seance and across the Nether did fire flood through a tunnel between minds. Before he departed fully, he unraveled his vessel into a splash of crimson mist and hid the evidence of his person in the shadows.

Come a second after, it was like he never was.

***

“Well, that was a fever dream and a half,” Reva remarked. Staring at the shadow in which the ghoul dumped its remains, she shook her head and forced the creature out of her mind. He was already going to haunt her dreams, but right now, she wanted to look upon the bright.

Taking her love by his shoulders, she centered him and scanned him using her cog-feed. His mind remained normal, and all accounts of his physicality stood unchanged before her eyes.

And so, she rapped him on the arm to see how he would respond and felt an ineffable delight rise as he clutched his cracked appendage as if it was wounded.

“Ow,” Raldi said, biting back a very sharp whimper. “That… was a lot harder… than you usually hit me there.”

“I just wanted to see if you’re… still entirely you,” Reva said. “Good thing about being one of us is that we don’t really need medical attention.”

Raldi’s face contorted into a grimace. “Oh, shit, don’t tell my Ensouling unchained something sadomasochistic in you.”

She hid her smirk well and shook her head mournfully. “There’re things you don’t know about me, Raldi–”

“Fuuuuuccckk,” he gave an exaggerated groan. “Please be a debt or a bad mem-porn habit.”

“--There are things I wanted to experiment, but… I didn’t think I could risk.”

“No,” he moaned.

“You know a good thing about being a Godclad is that we don’t really need medical attention. All our problems are a death away from being solved.”

He settled back against his chair and let out a soft breath. “Well. That sure sounds like it’ll make a person reckless.”

“It can.”

“Suppose we should get out of here while we can.”

“Suppose we should. Are you doing something later?”

“I might just be.”

And now, the ghoul was but a shadow in the valley of her mind. “Real nova response there, Necro. We’ll see how you dive.”