Book 1: Life Beyond Death.
Prince Sol. The final days of the Age of Dawn.
The augers and astronomers have been clamoring for Our attention for weeks now. Saying there is something wrong with the future, with the very stars themselves. While We do not tend to put much faith in their divinations, scattered and contradictory as they usually are, what is of consequence is their near uniformity. Something is changing, even if they cannot agree on what.
When their doomsaying began, it sounded much the same as their ravings always did. Something to be catalogued and dismissed. As they continued to pour in and became united in their arguments it piqued Our interest as a novelty but was nothing more than that. What elevated it into Our sealed chambers alongside the other heads of state was a seemingly unrelated harvesting report from one of the mining guilds within the Singing Mountain citadel.
A simple failure to meet a quota, something ordinarily dismissed even more easily than the ravings of these madmen and philosophers and far easier to deal with. Solved through the disbursement of an investigation into either rooting out corruption or theft or mismanagement. And yet, alongside this simple report, there came the head of that local miner’s guild.
They had brought with them not only some claimants in person, but decades of records that paint a picture that if combined with classified knowledge alongside the uptick in doomsayings… Well, it is something that We felt it most prudent to share. Secrets that may turn upon their keepers are best spread around amongst others than endured solely, especially ones that have cataclysmic prophecies.
And thus, We have been locked in these chambers, the cacophony of disbelief and rage and infighting a necessary cathartic release, if unpleasant to behold amongst the various other leaders of the Principality. Nevertheless, the course has been run and the time is nigh for moving forward.
We call the meeting to order, quiet the protestations with a wave of Our Brightness, and lay out the stories once more. The Firstborn. Born unto this world with the advent of the Enlightenment Itself. Assigned a simple task to prepare the world for That Which Comes Next. Beasts of monstrous power, each and all of them, they took this as a challenge of violence, of primal survival.
At the founding of the Principality, we as people united against these monsters and slew them, one by one. With each battle growing more difficult than the last until there was only one beast that remained. Every local born child has heard the tale of the Darkness of the Singing Mountain, fanciful though the embellishments have made it, the truth, passed down amongst the Princes and Our successors is far different.
There was no final epic battle. The Singing Mountain did not fight us when we laid siege to it. The conflict such as it was, still took months, but it was one of logistics, mining, and monstrous anatomy rather than a contest of steel and death. Eventually it lay silent, and the Principality declared its victory. All the while Our scholars delved deeper into the mountain and the Enlightenment Itself for the Truth.
It took generations for a consensus to be had, for evidence enough to support it to be irrefutable. The Singing Mountain yet lived, and its life was the last pillar supporting the ceiling holding back The Infinite Sky beyond our own. The Singing Mountain was not like its fellow beasts, content and enthused with their simple wrought destruction. It was a fractured thing, but each piece knew what it meant to be weak, to be lesser, and with its power it sought to protect rather than harm.
And now, We know that it is dying. Whatever Enlightenment of its own working can no longer sustain it. And yet its power is still so far beyond every advancement Our peoples have continued to make since we began harvesting its flesh and bones for Our use. Our might and light have grown to far eclipse what we once had when We took control of our world, but the unknown is a beast unfathomable.
We make plans and stratagems, raise the readiness of Our armies, reorganize, and make stockpiles of resources and paths to distribute them as needed over the next weeks. Everything seems to proceed to plan until one of the Diviners sends an urgent request to meet. This ends up being unnecessary as before We can arrive- the song begins.
Singing Mountain. Day 0. A Sanguine Song
We wake to silence. Something is wrong, there hasn’t been silence in so long. Our minds are so slow it takes days for us to realize what has changed. We’re dying. The silence is the parts of us that are no longer screaming in pain, we’ve become numb, and it is spreading. We marshal what remains of our thoughts, our selves, collect them into a whole for the first time since perhaps…
Our duty is clear, as it always has been. The Mantle’s crushing weight seems less somehow, perhaps it too knows its purpose is about to be fulfilled. It was never our burden, our charge to hold back the tides of fate from crashing upon these shores- merely to provide warning and time for those upon it. A simple chance.
Fitting, we suppose, that it should end like this. Not with the rending of tooth and claw, sword and spear, Death and Light, a clash of power and the thundering of echoing violence. No, instead it ends with us, the least of our siblings. Yet, in the end it was us that lasted longest, who held the most power. Power that even still aches to be unleashed, but that is a fight we have well under control, even here at our end.
Though there is now a note of discord, here in these, our last moments. Was this truly meant to be our lot in life? Our purpose? To die alone, long forgotten by our kin, our story unknown to the multitudes that dwell within our fading self? We suppose there must be something we could do to change that. Our Mantle does not divert these thoughts, does not direct us elsewhere any longer these years.
Perhaps with our end, it too loses its place, knowing as it does as surely as we do what is to come. The Beyond and Before awaiting the final key to turn and open the Gates of Other…
A thought startles us back to wakefulness. We who have lived so long and grown so strong have forgotten that the lesser live far shorter lives. They may not remember the promise of the Firstborn, or even understand what our purpose was. We must at least try to warn them. But how?
We have no time for deliberation, any plans we may have once made to solve this problem have long since faded alongside our unity and been extinguished with our coming death. So, instead we shall sing. We shall sing our last song and hope it is enough to brace them for the coming change.
Ample Surveyor 42. The Last Monster’s Requiem.
And so, the Age of Dawn passed. The conflict amongst man and beast finally over, and still they were observed by That Which Waits Behind The Viel. The song the last monster would sing heralded destruction in the extreme by the nature of their purpose, but to those that could hear its message, there was only hope. The final piece of protection of this new world fell, allowing access to it from those Outside.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
When the barrier fell, there sat a Watcher, a Fisherman, who cast quickly and snared a pair of souls. One, a failed life, bound to duty and cursed by their own power and the other, the catalyst to make what happened next possible- a newborn soul, snuffed out at the moment of creation by the falling of the Viel, but full of possibility, a second chance.
Singing Mountain.
[Welcome to Ample, Fledgling]
[This Realm is more full of unexplored land, dangerous magical phenomenon, and hostile life than is comprehensible to a Finite mind]
[Ample operates under the G.A.S.M.O.D.E. Hypertree Powerscaling System. This system will commence an initial scan to determine your starter race and affinities]
[Affinities are the branches of your Hypertree Powerscaling that represent your avenues for growth. Until you have at least 1 HP in each GASMODE vein you will not be considered a System Recognized [Adult] and therefore not be permitted to charter travel outside of your birthplace]
[Like all aspects of this world, you will be provided appropriate space to adapt to your new life because escape from Ample is
[Enjoy your time on Ample, Fledgling]
[Your species is: Brightblood Human]
[Your species is: Hydra]
Singing Mountain. Day 1. Welcome to Ample.
[Your species is: Hydra]
[Based on your species, your initial classification is Monster Adult, commencing GASMODE affinity analysis]
[Firstborn Mantle scanned… Guide Acquired!]
[Transcendent level Death affinity detected… Arcana Acquired!]
[Communication parameters catalogued as Choir… Social Acquired!]
[Sapience (Fractured) found… Mind Acquired!]
[Sapience (Fractured) augmented to: Sapience (Multithreading)]
[Combat memories recorded as Gobble… Offense Acquired!]
[Threat reactions determined as Regeneration… Defense Acquired!]
[Personal interests filed. Most significant listed as Host… Esoteric Acquired!]
[Congratulations, Adult! You have acquired at least 1 HP in each of your GASMODE veins, no more brakes for you! Get out there and explore the Ample opportunities available to you]
[There is always more HP to Acquire and Cultivate. As an Adult Sapient you will now find it easier to acquire additional Arcana affinities without extensive rituals or desperate situations]
[As with all question you may have about Ample you can just reach out to your System and ask]
There is a calmness to us that we have not felt in so long. A peace born not simply of a lack of pain, though that is a bliss unto itself. We are calm because our unity is whole again. No longer are we broken and isolated with each piece striving its hardest to keep us in concert.
We breathe deep into our lungs and simply sing of our joy. Uncaring of the difference in location, the invasive dissection of who we are by this [System], nor even our awareness of just how much weaker and less we have come into this world than the one we had just left. Because we are not alone in this moment, not truly.
Our memories recognize our new form. We are what we were born as initially. A mere three heads and about equivalent mass to what we would recognize as an adult [Brightblood Human].
Hmm… fascinating. The system has integrated itself deeply into us. Feeling strange only in how less intrusive it seems than the former Mandate our now [Guide] takes. Guide seems a much softer touch than what its purpose was before. Gentler, much like we’d have chosen to be, had we been given the choice.
We could sit here and sing our song for an age, and it would never be complete. Our size and our voice are too small to really tell our tale, to share our gratitude for this new thing we have been granted. Thus, the time has come for progress to be made.
𝄞 [System] We’d like to develop our Arcana affinities. Death isn’t something we want as our primary aspect.
𝄞 Also, may we augment our communication syntax? This is not how we hear our voice. 𝄂
[Arcana affinity actualization accepted. Sufficient open potential remains, initializing attunement process]
[Guide, Social, Defense, Esoteric affinities support Life affinity… Life affinity Denied by Transcendent Death affinity]
[Transcendent level Death affinity and
[Initiate communication testing for update]
“Undeath? Hmm, we suppose that is tolerable. The Enlightenment had no information on that, and learning again feels appropriate for a new life,” we pause for a moment to taste the new syntax. “Close, but not quite right. [System] The next speech pattern please.”
[Begin test]
This new world is grand- [System] Next please.
[Cycling through common communication platforms. Make your selection when done]
“There is so much to learn about even ourselves in this new place.”
~wE wOnDeR hOw ThIs NeW lIfE sHaLl TrEaT uS.~
‘.retsnoM a sa su etangised did [metsyS] ehT’
&While also expanding our knowledge of what a human can be.&
{Our old world only had the Brightblood survive the Enlightenment it would seem.}
“{That last one was closer… Hmm… We suppose it is at least ideal that there are options to explore for this, but perhaps we were too hasty in our pursuit of perfection,}” our song drifts off for a moment. “{This one [System]. We feel comfortable hearing ourselves in this manner.}”
[Update applied. If you desire any further changes after encountering other communication methods, you can just reach out to your System and ask! Just remember that the [System] will always and exclusively communicate using this method]
[The [System] may also use
We chuff to ourselves at how mundane the absurdity of this new life already feels. Applying our weakened senses to our surroundings we are nearly overwhelmed, nevertheless. The newness of not just our body, but the variety of stimuli are a delicious novelty contrasting against the ubiquitous torment most of our memories contain.
We feel an impulse to begin the interrogation of the system once more but set it aside. Even just this amount is enough of a reprieve and reward to fulfill our dying wish for a better life. We don’t need to pursue perfection or power needlessly, nor optimally.
Our instincts and understanding tell us that whatever mixing of Death and Life this [Undeath] consists of is plenty powerful even without sufficient understanding. Continuing to be led by our [Firstborn Mantle] alongside sufficiently sophisticated offense in [Gobble] and defense in [Regeneration] will tide us over for now.
Perhaps once our lack of understanding as a flaw is demonstrated we will reexamine that impulse to investigate. But for now, we must pursue that which is most important to us, apparently, and find something we wish to [Host]. It seems like a worthy goal to seek out for now. Advancing our own size and [Choir] will occur naturally we can feel, though even that seems malleable.
At that thought an echoing crash of thunder sweeps past us as I keep track of the storm on the horizon that seems to be raining burning rock over that forest in the distance. I take one last look around at the faithful recreation of our old nest, the sharp crags of stone, the desolate air and stench of decay a nigh perfect reminiscence of that first day.
We take the winding path we remember from that terrifying flight from our fratricidal siblings. As we proceed towards what we are beginning to believe will be a long-forgotten forest, filled with a smorgasbord of exotic fruits to eat. That and plenty of crazed beasts driven mad by the hellstone corrupting their former homes into a crucible of ultimate survival.
A rumbling, eager growl resonates from all of us as we set out to enjoy the retelling of our weakest moments, but with all the knowledge and tolerances we’ve acquired. The faint shimmer that we see ringing this caldera of brutality an intrinsically recognizable barrier of [System] make. There are no people here in this, no moral quandary to object to what we seek, “{Oh, what a day. What a lovely day.}”