“Burst!”
Aureliana shouted as an explosion ripped through the archway above them, hurtling debris through the air. It disrupted the channeled Essence, causing an immediate backlash event that pulled everything in the vicinity through the connection, as space caved inward.
*CRACK* On the other side, the Artifice's foundations fractured from the energy trying to flow through. Glyphs flared as emergency measures activated and the linked space disappeared when the Essence was cut off. A tense moment hung pregnant on the air before a whining noise could be heard building up, signaling the contingency protocols’ failure to contain the destruction.
Kioko had only seconds to glance around. Seeing no sign of her ward even with Vigilance Skills, she cursed as the structure above her began to sunder, splitting at its seams ominously. She launched herself away, ashen motes swirling behind her [Lightning Sprint] as the archway detonated.
Chasing her shadow, rocks smashed into the ground and dust mingled with the Essence trailing her form. In response, she dumped a dozen Aura points into her [Elemental Cloak] and [Evasive Maneuver] Skills. While it helped her avoid the ricocheting shrapnel, she was eventually tagged by a boulder.
Bouncing against the ground, she grit her teeth as she felt herself take a Wound. Fractured ribs if she were to judge it, but she ignored the penalties with her Conviction and slid along rubble before righting herself.
Another flash caught her eyes from the distance where the remnants of a beam shot off into the horizon. It lanced through a floating landmass in the sky, damning its remains to crash into the City.
The brat must have overloaded the system and been shunted, she thought. Terrified as she was at losing her charge, she was glad Aureliana wasn’t here now. The demolition of the Teleportation Pad had devastated the neighboring devices, and more building thrums signalled the impending armageddon that was about to consume the area.
And she didn’t need a precognition Skill to know this wasn’t going to be survivable unless she stopped holding back.
Reaching into her Pattern to grasp the Essence of Ruin that polluted her being, Kioko spent a point of Mana. It wept as she brought it forth, leaving a burning trail of memories of all those she’d left behind, before empowering her [Elusive Seven Shadows Grace].
The Essence from the pathways sunk into the ground before rushing back up, erupting in a volcanic burst as the connecting ley-lines ruptured, and the entire platform was subsumed in a series of deafening lights.
The waves that washed the area wiped out the lesser Spirits who could do no more than scream before being annihilated. Kioko dodged past the blasting energy, sidestepping into Realms Elsewhere for brief moments as she danced with death. She felt only the pressure of the waves crashing against her one after the other like a heartbeat on her skin.
But as suddenly as it began, it ended just as quickly as the world became still once more. All that remained was a massive crater and a land filled with soot and smoke. Signs of disaster the likes of which would have made her Master proud.
But it just made Kioko sick as her ears rang and she stared blankly at an arm protruding out from debris nearby.
“Kioko, come on we have to go!”
“But Mitsuo, what about Eiko? We can’t leave her too!”
Her brother bent down to look at her, his one good eye clouded by ash and tears. “I’m sorry Kioko.”
“No! Please, not again!” Kioko screamed as he heaved her onto his shoulders. It was easy for him to do—she hadn’t hit puberty yet.
A few more cries could be heard, and one of the Liberated rushed by. She was missing an arm but had tied the stump off. “This way!” she cried out, carrying another Kittenkin with her. Kioko could see a lone limb nearby, but wasn’t sure if it were the woman’s or not.
Looking back at the village, Kioko could see only flames. Echoes of noises reached her, but her ears were bleeding. She only heard a dull ringing sound as over and over again, waves of pressure passed by. Like a second heartbeat on her skin as her home was bombarded by spells.
And it just wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t they stop?
Why did they never… stop.
She blinked past tears and dust before a flash caught her eye, and the Liberator fell. Kioko never saw her again.
A Kittenkin inaudibly screamed for help as Mitsuo carried Kioko away, rushing through the smoke. The grey mists took her from sight too, and Kioko was… grateful for the silence. The Deafness Status Effect made it easy to ignore the screaming.
But it also made it easy to miss the ambushers too.
They caught her and tore her out of Mitsuo’s arms. She never saw him again either.
Kioko collapsed in a heap as she gazed at destruction, both real and remembered.
“By the Devas what the Heavens is happening!?”
“Someone call the Guards! Someone!”
“Help me! I… I need—urgh”
“Hey you, Mortal!” An angry Spirit reached down and plucked Kioko up. “What did you do!?”
It was a familiar Spirit; a Rhino-God. But her clothes were ripped and torn, and she looked like she’d been blasted through oblivion and back. Had she been brought through as well?
“I didn’t do—”
Kioko froze, ears folding down traitorously as her hair stuck on end. The Artifact ring. Of course it was the stupid brat’s ring, she’d seen the burst that—
“You know what happened, don’t you!? Tell me now!” The Rhino-Guard shook her. It was easy for the Spirit to do—Kioko hadn’t finished puberty yet. She never would after what they did to her.
“Let go of me, fucker!” Instinct took over, her fortified Belief of Never Again driving her into a frenzy as she suddenly felt caught by the Spirit. Her claws shot out, tinged with ash, and raked across the Spirit’s face. Normally, it would’ve been a futile gesture for a Mortal to try and injure a Spirit in such a way.
But she was apprenticed to Rahmiel, and had learned much following in his footsteps.
Her claws unwravelled the underlying Existence of the Animal-God’s Pattern, who released her in horror. Falling back onto her feet, Kioko sprang into a combat stance with a flurry of Aura and Skill. The air around her swirled with ash as her hair took on a burnt, ruined appearance, and her eyes went red as she yowled with deep-throated hatred at the CAPTURER.
She was prepared to kill.
The Rhino-God took one look at Kioko and backed off, glancing back at her own hand over and over again as she kept feeling at her face. The Rhino-God was bleeding Essence from the Aggravated Wound, an absolutely terrifying event for any Spirit, and abandoned her post to flee immediately. The Call for Hunting sang through Kioko’s veins as she watched them go, but it felt… hollow. Distant.
That wasn’t surprising—it was only an indoctrinated Belief. One she’d had implanted to feel like a real woman. A true Tigerkin.
Breathing heavily, she let herself settle now that the danger had passed. Turning to regard the scene around her, she wrestled with a rising guilt. Part of her hated what she’d done to the Spirit even if the rest of her felt justified. Scarring someone else was an unacceptable sin in her mind, but her Beliefs would push her at any price.
She shrugged internally at the contradiction—that was the problem with artificially reinforced Beliefs after all.
Instead, she began to fume internally as well as out. The Aura flare would fade quickly enough, but not her anger. Aureliana had slipped from her fingers like too many others had and Never Again was screaming in her Soul. Her tail thrashed madly as she couldn’t stop the snarl on her lips.
She’d been told many times how ‘adorable’ that made her look. The very picture of a cute ‘angry’ little kittenkin. So she did now what she often did at times like that.
“Charlie!” She called out to her familiar, reignited her Aura in the air to splay a summoning diagram around her. It took a good half a minute, but Charlie manifested, looking calm and serene. Adorable even.
But his ruby-red eyes betrayed the depth of murderous desire of the Monster she had tamed, mutated as she forced it to embody her own ideals. He mewled adorably as tiny claws popped out, ready to kill.
And he really was good at killing. He was the best familiar a girl could ask for, and Kioko smiled as she met his gaze.
She poured a point of ruinous Mana into her Carbuncle, twisting his form as his muscles bulged and bones broke. They reformed larger, longer, and stronger. His ‘cute’ growls transformed into a deafening roar as his ephemeral horns rotated to face frontward. Gems calcified along his body like plated armor, and his tail took on a jagged, rocky appearance with crystalline spikes. Her Gemstone Behemoth smiled hungrily with glowing drool dripping down teeth too large to fit it’s skull. It towered over her, more than ten meters high.
Kioko gave a sharp whistle and Charlie bent down so she could mount up. She still had to use [Great Leap], but she could think of worse things to complain about other than a Colossal-sized Summon. It was an expensive transformation, but it was worth the insurance it would bring.
With a mental command, her familiar turned his massive gem-infused head and roared out again as he began rampaging forward. Kioko hadn’t been confident before that she could fight the Spiritual Guards of the Celestial City without actually hurting them, so she’d held back.
For five years she’d waited patiently for the man she admired most in the world—and hated in equal measures.
But now a child’s life was on the line, and she’d kill every last Spirit up here to save her. Never Again demanded it.
It took longer than she wanted to track down her Master. She was accosted by several Guards on the way, but a little show of force, and proof of her willingness to Murder, forced them to back off. They were likely waiting for a Caretaker to arrive to smash her into oblivion anyway, so she was grateful the old coot had the integrity, for once, to have been honest with where he’d gone.
And she knew it was correct because of the hastily constructed fortifications outside the building. There must have been damn near half the City’s Guards here!
With a roar and fury Kioko’s Familiar channeled Heavenly Essence through his Gemstone and blasted past the barriers and into the side of the dive bar. A place cheekily called ‘The End’s Journey,’ in mockery of the death of Mortals.
Kioko walked through the wreckage of the wall over the remains of several customers, scanning the bar for her Master, setting Charlie to guard the ‘new’ entrance to prevent interference. The remaining patrons looked up at her in mild curiosity, while the bartender stood close by, screaming frantically from his missing arm and leg, torso charred between where both had been.
“You! What have you done!? Ahhhh, oh Heavens help me! Oh Devas the pain! Ahhhhhh!” The screaming Spirit pulled himself along the floor as he cried out to her. Kioko was done playing though.
“Back off or I’ll hurt you for real, fucker.” She popped out her claws, burning ash appearing on the tips as they blazed with ruinous light.
“Oi, leave the poor guy *hic* alone, girl…” Kioko turned to see her Master sitting at a table at the far end of the room.
She approached, but spared a moment for a Spirit passed out in a bowl of its own mess. It would have been easy to ignore, but her guilt over how she'd hurt the Rhino-God earlier made her pause. She lifted the Spirit's head out, and got a burbled ‘thanks’ as the Gecko-God slowly wiped at his robes trying to clean himself. She recognized the name on his uniform, that of Guard-Captain Dolknar—he had a reputation as a real hardass at the Western Gates. She considered putting his face back into the bowl, but left it be. It would've just been rude to go back on her good deed.
“What are you… *hic* even doin’ here?” Rahm said, wobbling ominously in his chair. Kioko glanced at his table, noting the cards, coins, and drink stains covering it. Equally swaying Spirits sat around glaring at Kioko’s sudden interruption. Judging from Rahm’s massive ante, they were clearly waiting for his call, though there was one person waiting patiently. Kioko recognized the Immortal Angelkin with her black, Starweave-accented robe, white hair, and mismatched grey and gold eyes.
Still, Kioko exhaled exasperatedly at their antics before pausing. Her face reddened as she admitted, “There was a situation and I, ah, I lost the girl, Master. I’m sorry but I need your help to find her before something happens.”
“The whoooo? *hic*” Rahm leaned back in his chair, two hands waving dramatically. One of the Spirits caught what his cards were and went pale. An impressive feat for a Spirit that looked like a glowing lamp of a man. The iconography on his robes denoted him as one of the prestigious members of the Bureau of Daytime Affairs, but that wasn’t an unusual position for a Star-God.
“The girl, Master. Your Granddaughter? Aureliana?” Kioko said. Rahm looked puzzled however; his eyebrows raising and lowering slowly, suggesting he was trying to blink under his sunglasses. “You do remember, right?” She asked.
She hated moments like this. Moments where the old Immortal’s mind got lost. Trapped in other times, and other places. He’d had a year straight where he’d thought Kioko was—
“Amaya, listen here, *hic* I don’t know any… Auray-lel-enas, okay? My family is the Freypeoples, got it?” The old man turned back in his seat, chugging more of his beverage. It was a wonderful soft yellow, like golden sunshine in a bottle. She could smell the peaceful years of a life spent with family, uncaptured and happy.
She knew, however, it was nothing but lies. Ambrosia was a dangerous drink even for Immortals, and distilled emotional concepts like Happiness were one of, if not, the most addictive and dangerous of them all.
“Master, it’s Kioko, and Aureliana is a Freyhe—”
“Wait, what happened to Amaya? I liked her.” The old man scowled as he folded his cards, to the cheers of several around the table.
“Master, she... passed away half a century back, remember? She was your previous apprentice. Why don’t we put this away for now, okay?” Kioko leaned forward to get the drink away from him.
“No! No, she can’t be dead! She was going to live forever, wasn’t she? I thought she was going to break the Barrier and I… I didn’t think she’d… die like all the others.” The old man turned back away and sat there in a silence that dragged on painfully. With little warning, he slowly began to fold, just like his cards, and slumped against the table as he quietly sobbed.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The others on the table looked sheepishly back and forth, before one of them shrugged and began dealing the rest in. Only the fellow Immortal looked back sadly at them, and Kioko nodded respectfully to the Stellar Cartographer. She was the only one at the table who would’ve understood Rahmiel, as Spirits had no way to contextualize Death.
Kioko rubbed at her Master’s back soothingly, before trying once more to get the drink away from him, but he noticed and sat up with a curse. “No, don’t take it away! Don’t! It’s mine, I deserve it, don’t I? Back off… er… Yumiko?”
“Kioko.” She corrected again.
“Right, right… Ki—*hic*—something. Good girl, has a little Weasel thing. I remember now.” A large chuff of annoyance flooded the room, swirling the dust and debris within. It came from the ‘little Weasel thing,’ of course.
“Master… why are you drinking this now? Don’t you…” She trailed off as she looked at the hunched old man. The old fool who had just burnt through centuries of resources for a little girl.
He sat there like a man condemned.
And Kioko... wasn’t sure if that was entirely wrong. From what she recalled of the Pax-Immortalis, using high grade materials like that to aid the cultivation of Mortals was…
She gulped. No, we’ll… we’ll just have to cross the bridge when we get to it. Aureliana first, Master second! Never Again ensured her priorities in this regard.
“Master, come on, snap out of it! We need to find her now, okay?” She squatted next to Rahm to look up to him. He met her eyes, trails of liquid zig zagging along his wrinkles.
“I… I just wanted to have a little more fun, you know? A few more games with my friends before we…”
“They aren’t your friends, Master. Come on, we need to go, okay?”
Rahm looked between Kioko and the Spirits sitting nearby. “But I invited them all here, of course they’re *hic* my friends… right?”
The Spirits nearby all nodded happily, most looking guilty in some way. Kioko huffed—it wasn’t unheard of for Rahm to send random invites and letters out. The old coot could send a hundred Spirit-messages a minute if he wanted.
“Master, please. She needs you.”
“And… do you need me too, Kioko?” The old man smiled warmly at her, and she met his smile equally.
Right before she smacked him. “Nope! But you’re a convenient learning source when you aren’t ditching me in the far corners of Reality. Now, up we go big guy.” She leveraged herself under a lower shoulder, finally managing to push the cup away as she helped the Fallen man stand.
“W-wait… *hic* one last drink, mkay?” He said, standing precariously as Kioko acted like a crutch.
“Are you serious right now? Your family’s life is literally on the line you old fool! I’m done being nice, shut up and let’s go.” She began to drag at him, but he reached back out towards his Happiness.
“Oh come on, just one more won’t hurt nothin’. Besides, *hic* it’s just the Celestial City, how much trouble could she be *hic* in?”
Kioko let go of the old man, letting him topple to the ground. “I have no idea where she is! She put on a fucking storage ring Artifact you left on the table! I came here to get your help when it started storing your entire fucking house!” Kioko shouted over and over at the man, but he just looked up dumbly from the ground.
“Which house? Wait—storage ring Artifact? That doesn’t make any sense. Who would make a Storage Ring into an Artifact?”
A few chuckles from around the table echoed his sentiment as the Stellar Cartographer looked sideways, blushing fiercely. Kioko noticed that, but turned back to Rahm.
“You don’t understand, Master—it’s dangerous! The damn thing stripped all my equipment off.” She huffed.
Rahm stared at her, disbelievingly, before he burst out laughing. “All of it, eh? Ehahaha—*hic*—heh. I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, I mean *hic* was any of it magical? Otherwise all that thing’s doin’ is low grade disarmament! Ehahaha—*hic*”
Kioko blushed in response, turning a similar shade to the Immortal still at the table. “Well, n-no none of it was, but it did take some Spirit’s items. That had to be magical, right?”
“Is-just woven Essence.” Rahm waved her concerns away twice over. “They probably let your trinket do it ‘cause they thought it was funny *hic*.”
“B-but—”
“Oh come off it, girl! *hic* Eh, what were we on about again?”
“Ugh—by the Devas! Whatever, I’ll ask you again when you’re sober enough to remember your face from your ass. Let’s just go, please. That ‘trinket’ ate part of the Cosmic Oasis and then blasted it back out at the Teleportation Gate. Aureliana could have been shunted anywhere in the damn city!”
“Teleportation gate?” The old man grumbled. “This is why I hate those things, always breaking and throwing you this way or that. Damn *hic* things are worthless…” Kioko glared at him as he slowly pushed himself back onto his feet. Once he was ‘steady’ he wobbled towards his drink and Kioko grabbed his arm.
“I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.” She glared at him, but her resolve crumbled instantly as Rahm slowly turned to regard her.
“…” His shaded gaze pierced through her; all traces of his mirth were gone as the room took on a dangerous atmosphere. Kioko began shaking, furious at her own internal reactions. She was a Kittenkin, however, so her natural instincts were always to run and hide when presented with danger. To cower like a child as her tail wrapped around her legs.
Never Again. With a moment of struggle, she fought off her instincts. Steeling herself, she bared her fangs, and hissed in the old man's face. After a tense few seconds as her lungs froze up, the old man sighed and shook his head, his Storm Spikes banging ominously.
“Alright, let’s go find this lost pup. Bartender, another… screw it, hundred rounds for everyone here and anyone that comes in...” Rahm tossed a bag at the man as the bar went mad with cheering.
“And you…” he whispered past the crowd, “I’m glad to see you finally sticking up for yourself, Kioko.”
Kioko blushed once more as she followed Rahm out of the bar.
----------------------------------------
At first, the darkness was suffocating. As Jordan’s breath ran out—made worse by his futile attempts to escape—his consciousness faded.
He woke up immediately when his mouth was uncovered and he was allowed to breathe. He tried to scream, but his captor cursed in irritation, and re-covered his mouth. This time he left hole’s for Jordan’s nostrils. After that… the darkness continued as Jordan was bounced along, resting on unfamiliar shoulders.
Sounds were muffled through the webbing, but scents came to him. The smell of runoff, the ever-present filthy stench of the Celestial City, and even the stink of perspiration. He wasn’t sure if it was from himself, or the unwashed Spirits in the area though.
Time passed, but Jordan wasn’t sure how long. He guessed a half hour or more before the movement eventually stopped. A chain was fiddled with, to further cursing of his kidnapper, before Jordan heard the sound of a rusted-door opening. It closed with a heavy, sealing thud behind him.
A few more moments passed before Jordan found himself dropped to the floor. He writhed to no avail, dimly listening to his capture moving about. Minutes more passed by before he was lifted and placed onto a chair. Additional wrappings tied his legs and back to the seat, but suddenly… his veil was lifted, and he could see.
The place was cavernous, like a warehouse. It had a cold, industrial feel to it despite burnished golden walls and ceilings. While there were no web-like shadows inside, the all-encompassing light of the Celestial City failed to illuminate the area, leaving it dim. What windows there were had been boarded up with steel sheets or obscured by debris. Boxes, odd mechanical looking contraptions, and trash littered the yawning space.
Looking around, Jordan saw his capture standing nearby as the Spirit activated a small lamp, bringing the world into better focus. The Spirit was as tall as Chef Duan, easily at seven feet tall or more. With a flourish he removed his trench coat, revealing a stylistic half-cut skirt accompanied by a formal jacket. Both sets of clothes were made from shining silks with a parade of colors and the Spirit’s feet clicked notably in high heels.
“Hey there toots!” The kidnapper said before removing Jordan’s gag. “Okay, now do me a favor and don’t scr—”
Jordan immediately screamed, and was rewarded with a new covering for his mouth.
“Sheesh, the lungs on this kid. Listen hot stuff, if you behave there’s no reason things have to get unpleasant, okay? Seriously though, I think I nearly burned my shoulder hairs carrying you.”
The Spider-God leaned down chuckling and discarded his hat with a wink. He had two large eyes, on a mostly humanoid face covered completely in a fine white fur-like texture that was notably longer up top. Sharp teeth filled his mouth, but instead of eyebrows he had an array of smaller eyes arching over his main gazers. He rested his chin onto a pair of hands like a damsel as he playfully spoke with Jordan.
While Jordan was less than pleased to see the Spirit, he was grateful the Spider-God had a more humanoid appearance. If an actual spider’s face, complete with mandibles and fangs, had leaned that close?
Fuck that. Jordan gave a muffled insult as he blankly stared back at his capturer.
“Hey now, that’s not very nice. What’s wrong with being a trap trap-door spider? Sounds kinky, hehe!” He laughed, placing two of six hands on his thin frame as he did. With a twirl that tossed out his skirt, making Jordan close his eyes for fear of indecency, the Spirit puttered around the warehouse, investigating it.
“Huh, I thought this place would come with… oh, there they are! You never know if a delivery’s gonna make it on time, you know? Down right criminal if you ask me.” He laughed again.
With an obnoxious, long drawn out noise of scraping metal, the Spirit dragged what looked like a giant tool drawer out from behind nearby boxes. It looked distressingly close to the kind Jordan’s dad had—the old man had stuffed his with tools, far too many of which ended up being redundant and lost due to his ‘organization.’
Sadly, this tool drawer had disturbing similarities in that regard as well.
The Spirit opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of questionably stained pliers from the giant pile of unorganized torture tools. Tossing it to the side, he dug around until he brought out a long fork-like object. It would have looked innocuous had it not been for the twin prongs ending in hooks.
“Hmm, what do you think this does anyway?” The Spider-God asked.
Jordan shook his head, shrugging as he muffled a response. He then kicked himself mentally. The fucker can understand me, why am I provoking him!?
“What? No waaay. I doubt this thing goes up asses, babe. And besides, why would I put it up my own? Then again... Hehehe… but, ah, on a serious note I feel like I should have studied up on this whole torture-thing before I set this up. But that damn bastard didn’t give me enough of a heads-up though! Can you believe the nerve of some people?”
The Spider-God leaned on the drawer, twirling the item around as he looked at Jordan. He sounded like he was just complaining with a colleague around a water cooler! Eventually, cocking his head slightly, the Spirit frowned.
“You know this really won’t do. It would just be wrong to make you all quiet and stuff for the whole thing, even if I get the gist of what you’re spoutin’.” He walked up and began to undo the gag once more, before pausing. “Listen, no one is going to help you, but if you really need to scream and get it out of your system, you do you. Got it?”
He took the gag away and dramatically covered the sides of his furry head with an extra pair of arms. Jordan obliged by screaming with full throated fury.
And screamed again when he ran out of breath. And then once more for good measure.
“You done ye—”
And one more time for extra-good damn measure!
The Spider-God glared at Jordan, who was heaving from his wailing. In the silence that followed, it sunk home to Jordan that his capture hadn’t been lying.
No one was coming.
“W-what… what do you want?” Jordan finally gasped out.
“Ah, there we go! Good for you, nothing like a good scream, right? Anyway, like I said, what do you think this does?”
He waved the hooked fork towards Jordan.
“I… I don’t know. Pull at skin?”
“Oh. Ew, that sounds awful! Let’s try something else instead, shall we?” He tossed the tool away.
Pulling out malformed scissors, he smiled appreciatively and kept them in one of his hands. Rummaging around, he then pulled out what looked like a chisel.
“Ah, now these I’m sure I can use. Much better than just pulling at you. What am I, a crochet spider? So cliché. Now, where shall we begin the snipping, babe?”
He walked around the far side of Jordan, who immediately babbled out “W-why? Let’s talk it out okay? Just…. Just tell me what you want!”
The Spirit paused, and then smacked himself on his forehead. “Oh, of course! I need to lay out demands before I get to the torment. Sorry, this is all really new to me, you know? Apologies and all that.”
He waved a hand errantly as he tossed the tools back into the drawer. Absently he poked at some nearby crates, looking inside a few and growling at others, before settling on one he seemed to like. He popped a squat onto it, thankfully crossing his legs.
“Okay, here’s the scoop. You’re kind of a big deal to me, don’t worry why just yet, but I’d really like it if we could deal with some… issues you’re causing.” He said, ending sweetly with an “Umkay?”
“But, what, I…” Fuck, am I supposed to know this guy!? “Look, I ah, I don’t really… ah, remember much from before a week ago. I’m really sorry if I’ve caused you problems, j-just tell me what you need done, okay? I’m happy to help!”
Jordan was quite enthused to be helpful. Being tied up staring at torture tools was an excellent source of motivation.
“Wow, yeah, look I know all about the problems in that little head of yours, and trust me when I say this babe, I ain’t touchin’ that. And if you knew me, you’d be proud!” He laughed uproariously at his own fabulous joke, apparently.
“Still,” the Spirit continued, “do you, like, know anything about up here, kiddo?”
“I, ah, I know that the Celestial City is the home of the Gods. A-and all the rules, and whatever, come from here. There’s also lots of queues and bad government, and homeless people, and ah…”
Jordan trailed off at the incredulous look from the Spider-God.
“Listen toots, you got at least one thing right. Up hear us Gods work our little hearts out for your benefit. And in my case, I work at FIMI. That's the Fate Implementation and Management Institution. It’s this big ol’ place where we hash out all the Destinies of every Mortal and all that.”
“And you,” The Spider-God jabbed six accusatory fingers at Jordan, “are my job. You see, FIMI operates the Loom of Fate, and your Destiny—specifically—is my responsibility. And may I just say from the bottom of my heart… fuck you!” Six birds shot up to accent his words.
“Er… I, ah, I don’t—”
“Shhhhh, no talkies just yet, I got more to vent about, and I worked hard to orchestrate all this. My piece first, then yours, kay?”
And vent he did. Jordan sat there for the next God-knew how long as the Spirit rambled at Jordan about all the minute decisions the Brat had made in her life leading up to now. Foods, clothing choices, tea parties she’d gone to or turned down. He especially fixated about some damn nonsensical book she’d apparently been reading. None of it even made any damn sense without context!
Once finished, he huffed before saying, “Anyway, thanks for listening, I needed to get that off my chest. Still, you’ve been the absolute worst ward I’ve ever had. Bar none! Do you have any idea how much work I have to do because of you?”
“I… er, can no one… help you?”
“What? Help me? How?”
“Isn’t there work shares? M-maybe you could get another Spirit to tag in?”
“No good babe, but I like your thinking. Sadly, the Weavers’ Union is very thorough. It comes with the territory, given our inability to access the System and all that.”
“Access the system? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Hey, watch your fucking language—there are kids here! Hehe, anyway, we were never given full access by the Mayor before he was ousted. And after a lot of setbacks from poorly coordinated hand-offs or overfull workloads, it was decided that every Mortal would get their own special little Fateweaver and no one could change that. Mostly that was to prevent the constant swaps we kept doing at the time. Man, those were the days.” He stared off wistfully.
“So does that mean you can’t get…”
Oh… shit biscuits.
The Spider-God smiled. “Go on. Finish your sentence. You can’t get… what?”
Jordan gulped. “Y-you can’t get... rid of me?”
“Bingo! How about a quick prize for your efforts?” He laughed once more, jumping off his box and picking up the shears and chisel once more.
“W-wait, surely we c-can come to an arrangement? Please, don’t!” Jordan begged.
“Are you crying? Babe, we haven’t even started yet, don’t go breaking down on me now!”
“I can’t help it! I don’t wanna die! Please don’t!”
“Oh now that’s just sad. Ugh… why can’t you just get it through your head that it would really help me if you just died? I can’t move on until you do, and you’re just a Mortal. Why do you have to care so much? You’d just die of old age in a century or so anyway.”
“Please! Please! Please, just tell me what I can do!?”
“Sorry kiddo, but there’s only one thing you can do for me. Only one way to get rid of you.” The tools inched closer to Jordan’s face. “Now say aw! I’ll try to be gentle since this is the first time for both of us.”
“No, there has to be something! Please!”
“Ugh… you really don’t get it do you? Man, such a pain in my abdomen.” The Spirit pulled silk from a pocket and gagged Jordan once more.
“Now then, lets… ah, stop with the Puppykin eyes! Why can’t you just understand I need to kill you? Stop being so selfish! Now sit still while I try to find how to turn your brain off. That kills Mortals, right?”
He shrugged helplessly three times over before leaning forward to begin his grisly work.
----------------------------------------