-oOo-

Chapter 11

-oOo-

‘Sylvia’ hung in midair.

Over the last eleven months it had become natural to think of ‘herself’ as a silver haired witch. Yet here, in the ambiguous world of the soul, there was no Sylvia. There was no Eric either. ‘She’ was a shapeless consciousness. A disembodied notion viewing a scene.

But it was necessary to think of ‘herself’ in some manner or another and ‘Sylvia’ had become habit.

So Sylvia, she was.

Souls were strange things.

They had neither size nor shape. The foundation of the soul existed without ether, though the soul as a whole was ethereal. Every soul was a realm onto itself. A universe separate from both the material world and the netherworld. The substance of a soul could be twisted, torn, and transformed yet its fundamental constituents could never be reduced.

Did that mean existence was eternal? That a person’s being would continue even after the soul melted into Unus Mundus?

Those were questions far and away from Sylvia. A philosophical preponderance best saved for the ancient demons reaching the end of their afterlives.

Her focus was more concrete.

Though a soul’s nature was amorphous, there existed a kind of substructure. All souls in the nether had three layers: outer, inner, and nucleus. As for how these were perceived, this differed by the soul and the mind that viewed it.

What Sylvia saw was sky.

Endless blue surrounded her, hued with faint silver light. The air was thick with congealed essence, the result of her accumulated levels. At the world’s edge lay a boundary of shadow. Not void. The external. The unknowable. For who can say anything exists except for themselves?

Toward the center lay a swirl of clouds. A churning, white sphere veiled by deep mist. The roiling fog swelled as it passed over hidden shapes, teasing with hints of what might lay beyond. The inner layer and membrane. The space that contained much of what made Sylvia, Sylvia.

And within this would rest a kernel. The nucleus. The firmament on which all was built. The nucleus held her nether code. The runic DNA that defined her shape and form. From this code was spun runic chains. If Sylvia focused, she could see strands swimming through the sky, as soft and as hardy as human hair. Wiggling worms carrying the information that defined life.

Far more obvious were the foreign objects floating in the outer layer. A silver bag orbited the swirling sphere. Hundreds of coin danced in the silver hued sky. A pitiful display of Sylvia’s poverty.

“Time to get started.”

Two months ago, Sylvia had hit level one-hundred. Since then, she’d been preparing for her break through. Consolidation, the first step of ascension. Class advancement as her System named it.

There were many things a demon had to do before they could consolidate. Lady Vallenfelt had taught her thoroughly. How to project her consciousness. The faults, follies and mistakes. The means and methods of recovery.

Sylvia wasn’t sure how much applied to her. The System, after all, offered a simple rank up button.

But after learning all the ways consolidation could go wrong, the silver haired girl intended to do it right.

She waved a hand. A surge of will swept the world. Her distant bag was caught. With a flick it was sent tumbling beyond the bounds of existence. After, she stretched her consciousness. The sky rippled, forming a palm as broad as a planet. With it Sylvia caught the scattered coins.

Ting-a-ling-ling.

Coins rattled on a stone floor outside her soul. Faint and muted.

There were five steps to consolidation. Compress. Congeal. Implant. Incubate. Communion. Most demons failed their first attempt. It wasn’t uncommon for a denizen to fail thrice. Depending on the nature of that failure, the consequences could range from irritating to severe.

Scanning her soul one last time, Sylvia opened a window.

Class Advancement: Common Witch

[x] Level: 100 / 100

[x] Experience: 10,000 / 10,000

Please confirm to initiate class advancement from Apprentice Witch to Common Witch. The class advancement process will require between 2 and 4 hours. During this process, all System features will be locked. The User may remain conscious during this time, but heavy exertion should be avoided for your safety.

Initiate Advancement / Cancel

“You’ve been doing a good job lately, so I’ll let you have a go,” she told the window.

Sylvia drew in a breath. Her nerves sung with fear and excitement.

“Initiate Advancement,” she commanded.

The blue window squiggled then shut off. Words rang in her soul. Soundless. Invisible. An echo akin to a dream or a memory. Even though heard instead of seen, she felt as though she were reading the text off a monospaced monitor.

Ascertaining security…

… scanning

… scanning

… scanning

… external security confirmed.

… internal security confirmed.

… no informational threats found.

The world shuddered.

Vhumm. Vhumm. Vhumm.

With a deep, mechanical resonance, the inner layer of her soul stirred. Still, misty air began to whip and whirl. The white clouds obscuring her soul’s center picked up pace. Faster and faster. As the shroud sped, it began to tear. Brass and steel glinted beneath the cover. The rip grew broader, revealing plates and rivets. Tubes with yawning mouths like horns and trumpets.

Then the veil fell completely.

Sylvia’s inner membrane was revealed in all its grandeur. A great machine, akin to a mechanical heart. Thick brass pipes wrapped around it, breathing essence and ether. Veins and arteries pulsed. Thumm. Thumm. Thumm. The world beat with a steady, single percussion rhythm. Each gasp made the outer layer of her soul reverberate.

Light glinted.

From small points on the metal shell lasers were born. The beams swept the outer layer with a vertical sheet of whipping red. Crap. Sylvia surged back. Her consciousness slipped through the outer membrane an instant before the wave could roll over her.

Scanning for foreign matter…

… no foreign matter found.

Reviewing membrane integrity…

… integrity is at 99.87%.

Words scrolled through her mind. After scanning twice, the lights turned off. Cautiously, Sylvia slid back in from the dark.

TONNG! TONNG!

The metal resonance sounded again, this time powerful and heavy. A noise like a giant bolt being thrown. With a deep, metallic groan the sphere split into eight parts.

Sylvia relaxed.

“Either, I was worried about nothing or the System is kind of dumb,” she said, lambasting her reaction.

Or, more likely, the System’s security features neglected their User. In which case….

Sylvia eyes narrowed.

“This might be an opportunity.”

The inner layer of Sylvia’s soul had always been guarded by that white cloud. Despite numerous tries, the silver haired witch had failed to pierce it. She knew it was possible to reach beyond. Baroness Vallenfelt had taken samples of Sylvia’s nether code. But had the dean truly seen Sylvia’s nucleus? Or had Lady Vallenfelt seen what the System wanted her to see?

Summoning her courage, Sylvia flew forward. Her consciousness slipped through the yawning crack.

The heart was hollow. A shell of wires and steel. Within, Sylvia found her true core.

Bulbous. Amorphous. Her nucleus was a dark patch of wiggling void. Inside this pulsating frame were millions of orbs. Cells shifting and twisting, like eyes rolling upon each other inside a jar. Thick cables were jacked into the unstable sludge. The wires split as they spread through the core, like the roots of a great tree.

The System.

At least, the System as Sylvia conceptualized its existence.

Sylvia gazed up, tracing the wires. Overhead lingered the essential components of the mechanical heart. Large machines and unfathomable modules. The rest of the shell was still spreading. Soul essence seethed inward, bringing with it silvery light. As the illumination reached in through gaps, black was transformed into deep, brilliant blue.

Her nucleus, however, remained as dark as night.

“Do I see the System because this is the System?” Sylvia mused. “Or do I see a System because I expect there to be a System?”

What was real and what was illusion was hard to ascertain in the realm cast by the self.

With a bare ripple, the eight fragments of the shell slipped through her outer membrane. Lightning crackled. Thick streams jumped between the fragments, forming jittery ropes. Five bolts connected each adjacent piece of shell. The crisscrossing energy formed a net.

Please stand by for compression in:

...3

...2

...1

Her soul contracted.

The outer membrane squeezed in, pressured by the eight shell fragments. The atmosphere thickened, congealing into luminescent mist. The air grew sticky. It clung to her consciousness, making her feel stuffy and sluggish. Her soul continued to shrink. The eight fragments closed until there was naught but lightning filled seams. An invisible wave continued the crush. Narrowing. Constricting. The space shrank until mist turned into rain then rain into lake.

Compression.

Sylvia’s System had carried out the first step of consolidation with textbook perfection.

Compression was the first test of talent. Just as human skin varied in its character and consistency, so too did the outer membrane of the soul. Some were cracked, thin or weak. Others were flawless and firm. When the soul filled with essence, it would leak through the faults. When it compressed, these weaknesses would be strained to their breaking point.

In some cases, the outer membrane would rupture. Soul essence would spew out in a flood.

And this was far from the worst failure.

After compression, the next step was to congeal. Pleased with the System’s actions, Sylvia waited to see how it would carry this out.

A hose fell from the mechanical components overhead. It wiggled like a tentacle, its mouth finding a valve attached to Sylvia’s nucleus. The System inhaled. Liquid was drawn up the tube. Thwop, thwop, th-th-thowp. Cells were sucked in with the inky substance. They flowed up the hose and entered the machine above.

“Why are you?” Sylvia noised, startled.

Her manner grew tense and cautious.

When congealing soul essence, nucleoplasm from the true core was required. But, the cells were not to be touched before the third step – Implant.

Careless of Sylvia’s rising anxiety, the System pumped the nucleoplasm into a transparent sack. Then the great pipes of the mechanical heart trumpeted. The sound reverberated through her entire soul. Throat cleared, the machine drank deep. The liquid soul essence drained from the compressed sphere only to pour into the pouch.

There it mixed with darkness, congealing into a dense gel. As the soul essence drained, the sack inflated like a balloon. Five deformed cells floated inside, feasting eagerly on the energies. When they ate their fill, they divided. Once. Twice. Thrice.

The fourth step. Incubate.

The System was carrying out three steps in tandem.

“Are you insane!” Sylvia shouted in horror.

Each of the five steps came with their own risk. The nuclear membrane could be damaged, or the false nucleus might rupture. In either case, the surrounding soul essence would be spoiled and would have to be discarded. Neither of these were of great concern. Sylvia felt that on both matters the System would never make a mistake.

After all, there was a valve jammed into her true core.

That was some Baron Harkonnen bullshit.

No, what frightened Sylvia was the worst failure.

A bad egg.

Before the cells were implanted they had to be examined. Afterwards, their replication was to be carefully guided. During incubation, the contained nether code would mutate and transform. More often than not, the code would express new and favorable traits.

But when a bad egg was created, what emerged would be crippling defects.

And fixing them, once consolidation was complete, was all but impossible.

“Garbage machine,” Sylvia ground out. The silver haired witch flew up and gave the box a good kick. “Stop! I said stop!”

The System stopped.

But only briefly.

Initiating code optimization…

The clinical words echoed in her psyche. No sooner were they writ than did a series of cables shot from the machine. Wires punched through the transparent sack, then branched out. Thin, nearly invisible, threads of copper penetrated each cell.

Lightning flashed.

In an instant, ninety-percent of the cells popped and sizzled.

…

Sylvia let out a breath. “Fuck. You scared me.”

… optimizing

… optimizing

… optimizing

Electricity flickered again and again, murdering individual cells with pinpoint precision. The worm filled spheres died and replicated. Each time, the number slaughtered grew smaller and smaller.

Sylvia’s fear receded replaced by growing excitement. Curious, she peered into the transparent pouch. With her eyes, she picked out a few flawed cells, their shape and color warped. Most though, were wiped away without a hint to their error.

“How do you know which ones are good and which ones are bad?”

Then again, on a task like this, how could a human hope to compare with a computer?

Ordinarily, during Implanting and Incubation, a demon would select hundreds of cells from their true core. Then they would compare each in turn, ensuring that only those with great resemblance were migrated to their new home. True experts and geniuses would use arts and magics to assist in this evaluation. Risk-takers might even doctor their cells with new code or coerced ki concepts.

The System was far bolder.

It was clear from the number of flaws that the System had started with the cells most deviant instead of those most similar. Then it relied on its ability to read the code in real time, trimming away the mutations undesired. Rather than genetic engineering, this was accelerated evolution.

… optimizing

… optimizing

… optimization complete.

Modeling results…

… done.

Code has achieved 101.4% of predicted performance.

Facilitating dendrite formation.

The hard jolts of lightning quieted. The remaining cells replicated unimpeded. Their numbers grew, devouring all the essence in the sack until Sylvia’s second core was filled to the brim with a million worm laden marbles.

Then the System gently drew the two cores together. False and true, side by side. The System unleashed a weak shock. Electricity crackled in the nucleoplasm leaving the cells within unharmed. The quiet core quivered. Softly. Shyly, it answered with a spark of its own. The wires caught the signal, echoing it to the true core.

There was a moment of silence, then the first nucleus answered back. Pulse. Pulse, pulse. Pu-pulse, p-p-pulse. With accelerating frenzy the two cores communicated. As they did, thick spiritual roots grew in each other’s direction. The limbs tangled.

Lightning flickered. The cores spoke without the System’s influence.

Dendrite formation complete.

Soul essence collection will finish in 17 minutes and 31 seconds.

Collating simulated results…

… done!

Resuming GUI services.

Echoing results.

Ding.

Sylvia relaxed. With growing joy, she reviewed the changes.

Class Advancement Complete!

Class: Common Witch

* +100 Hp/Mp

* +6 all Physical Attributes

* +14 all Magical Attributes

Your Tier has advanced, increasing your influence on the world:

* +5% all fundamental attributes

Due to the evolution of your code, the following traits have emerged:

Trait: Basic Elemental Palace [Primary/Primordial] [Closed]

* 15% Max Mp capacity

* 5 ether/second recovery

An elemental palace breaths and stores raw ether of any chosen primary, primordial element. This ether can be used during casting, increasing the efficiency of magic. Mana may also be natured with the corresponding element, even when ether is not present.

As a biological organ, the elemental palace grows with the User. It can also be destroyed by your foes, representing a minor vulnerability. Ether recovery increases with Magic: Mysticism and the local ether density. It may also be enhanced through supporting traits.

To be used, the elemental palace must be first opened. Once opened, it may later be closed.

Trait: Silken Mana (replaces: Ultra-fine mana)

Your mana has sublime smoothness and elasticity. This greatly enhances the innate integrity of all mana structures. You will find it much easier to cast spells while minimizing energy expenditure. Spell casting will be stealthier. Runes and rune structures will be more durable. Theoretical casting speed will be massively improved.

Two new traits. An elemental palace and silken mana. It was normal for new traits to emerge with consolidation. Lady Vallenfelt had even introduced a few common mutations. Her elemental palace was one example. Usually though, demons only gained a single trait. A dual emergence was rare.

Or so her teacher said.

Sylvia scanned the window again, ignoring the link that describing how to open her palace. After she brought up her status screen and took a gleeful gander.

Name Sylvia Swallows Class Common Witch Level 100+60 Exp 137 / 1010 HP 173 / 264 MP 397 / 559

Str 9 Mag 37 Vit 9 Spr 43 Agl 16 Wit 46

Wow. Those were some impressive numbers. Sylvia finally felt strong. Powerful. Ready to take on the world.

Felt being the key word.

Intellectually, Sylvia knew she was weak. The first consolidation was just the beginning. The mark between the netherworld’s commoners and its children.

She wasn’t strong. Sylvia had simply stopped being weak.

“But where’s the five percent?” she considered, thumb and finger pinching her chin.

Flipping between screens, Sylvia did some quick math. The numbers didn’t add up. Wait. She had figured it out. The answer was hidden betwixt her secondary stats.

Strength 3 + 6

Magic 23 + 14 Force 143% Dominion 260% Scaling 109% Mysticism 137%

Vitality 3 + 6 Spirit 29 + 14 Toughness 143% Integrity 286% Resilience 109% Resolve 143% Agility

10 + 6

Wit

32 + 14

Celerity

131%

Awareness

173%

Precision

116%

Capacity

146%

“I see. It only applies to the most basic portion of an attribute, not the attribute as a whole.”

Still, pretty damn good. It also made her aware that consolidations had a larger impact than was immediately apparent. But there was one last thing she had to check. Sylvia pulled up her advancement requirements with a deep sense of dread.

Class Advancement: Elite Witch

[ ] Level: 100 / 300

[ ] Experience: 137 / 50,000

Please advance your level to the required point before attempting class advancement from Common Witch to Elite Witch.

“Shit.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Sylvia’s dream was that the level requirement would be flat.

Why? Because this would imply a small gap between consolidations. If her second advancement was at level 200 and the third 300 then it followed that arch demons would have a level around 600.

Instead, her second class advancement was at 300. Following the pattern the System loved, this would place the third at 600, and the sixth at 2100.

That’s right. Two-fucking-thousand.

Ignoring attribute bonuses and multipliers, that was twenty times Sylvia’s current stats. And this was before accounting for a metric ton of powerful traits.

Oh, and Sylvia still didn’t know what kind of bullshit Awakening, Transcendence, and Apotheosis threw into the mix.

Scratch ordinary strength. In Hell’s pecking order Sylvia had risen from small bug to big bug. The major players could squash her at their leisure.

“Now that I think about it, aren’t there seventh consolidation demons?” Sylvia groaned.

In fact, it was speculated that Shiva and a few others had stepped into the eighth consolidation. The only thing everyone agreed on was that nobody had achieved a fourth grand mutation.

“On the bright side, when I cross the third consolidation I’ll be able to kick demons around however I please,” Sylvia said, trying to cheer herself.

How rotten. Here she was thinking about bullying the weak. Maybe someday she’d turn into a wicked witch.

Humored, Sylvia trolled through a few more panels. By the time she was done, her pool of soul essence had been reduced to a puddle beneath her feet. Mist rose from the silvery basin like steam from a hot bath.

The pressure dropped.

The eight fragments loosened. The outer membrane of her soul expanded, pushing the metal shell back. The pool beneath her evaporated. Silvery fog turned into faint mist then vanished altogether. Dark, clear sky was left in its wake. Before Sylvia’s soul had been illuminated by the faint essence, granting the glow of midday.

Now, her soul was cast into night.

Soul essence collection complete.

Returning to secure mode.

The System’s record rung monotonous. The shell begun to close.

It was time to choose.

If Sylvia remained within the inner layer, she risked being trapped. Her consciousness captured, her body would lay slumped in sleep. There she would stay until freed by herself, her System, or her teacher.

And who knew how long that would take?

It would be fine if it were hours.

If it were days, Sylvia might well go insane.

The silver haired witch grit her teeth. “I have to stay. Even if the chances are slim, I need to know more about the System.”

The System would probably throw her out anyway.

At least, that’s what Sylvia told herself.

Rreee, clong, romm. The metallic shell drew closed. TONNG! TONNG! The metal bolts slammed into place, sealing the plates.

Darkness.

In the center of her soul, two cores sparked in communion. The flickering light granted bare visibility. Tubes and wires glinted. The mess of component above was drawn away. Sylvia watched as they vanished into the murk. She was alone in the quiet night.

She felt a tremor of doubt.

“Or maybe it won’t throw me out,” Sylvia murmured.

Her voice was swallowed by the void. No echo. No sound. A deep resounding silence.

“■”

The silver haired witch clicked her tongue. The simple light spell conjured nothing.

“It’s my soul. Shouldn’t it be bright if I want it to be bright?” Sylvia muttered. The tone of her voice brought shallow comfort.

White flickered. The faint strobe of her cores’ commune.

Nothing to do but search.

So that’s what she did.

For an hour and a half, Sylvia scoured the dark interior. Shadows danced with the flash of light, hiding gears, pipes, and crevices. Mechanical limbs lay folded against the metal shell. Plates were riveted onto the walls without a single gap. From time to time, Sylvia felt she had found a secret tunnel.

Only to realize it was just a dead end.

Then she saw it.

Nestled deep between chaotic pipes was a door. Sylvia noticed it by chance, hidden in the shadow of a robotic arm. At first, she thought it another plate, only when the cores sparked brilliant did she see the unmistakable seam.

And more importantly, the lever at its side.

Floating up beside it, Sylvia fumbled. Then she pulled. Shoo. With a sci-fi swish, the door opened. Sylvia drifted inside, an astronaut buoyed by zero gravity.

She was in a hall.

The floor was made of linoleum tile. The walls were a mess of plates, wires, and bronze tubes. Electricity crackled, lending dim light. The illumination cast was milder yet steadier than the communication of her cores. The space was alive. She could feel the thrum of machinery and hear repeated clack of gears.

Maintenance Hatch 02. The label was painted in plain English.

Sylvia stared.

“That’s kinda creepy, actually.”

Her voice echoed strangely. She shifted uncomfortably. Was she alone in this space? The darkness held no answer. She imagined doctors in white coats striding through the halls. A mad scientist stepping out the door, clip board in hand while he observed the nucleus of her soul. Perhaps he would tweak wires, or draw cells and liquid from her core.

The System had been with her for eighteen years.

Eighteen years. If the administrator had sinister intentions, it was too late for her now.

“Come to think of it, I’m already thirty,” Sylvia laughed. “If I hadn’t become a witch, I’d be a wizard.”

The levity helped to beat back the ominous ambiance.

Sylvia traveled forward. After a hundred meters in she found a T-junction. Conveniently, the halls were labeled. Left to the primary CPU, memory, and ROM oversight. Right to the conversion chambers and the control room.

“Control room sounds promising,” Sylvia said.

Feeling better about her venture, she went down the rightward path.

Following the signs, Sylvia flew through the halls. The English writing and computerized structures reinforced her suspicion. The System had been born on Earth by persons from the netherworld. But who? And why? Sylvia hoped to find answers to those questions.

And she hoped all the more that her conjectures were wrong.

Because, in the last few months, she’d found a name. And she didn’t like that name in the slightest.

She arrived.

Control Room was written on a sign above a closed door. No lever. No knob. Sylvia scrutinized the door. There was a junction ten meters back, so there was little chance of an alternative path.

“Here goes nothing.”

Sylvia raised a hand and knocked.

Tonk. Tonk. Ding!

With a happy chime, a blue window appeared, projected in front of the door.

User Id: Local Host

Password: ___________

[Open]

…

…

Sylvia’s eye twitched. “Are you shitting me?”

A password to access the control room was good security. Sylvia could grant that. In fact, she relived to see guards against random guests toying with her soul. Indeed, she hoped there was a lot more protection here than just a password.

But right now, Sylvia’s only thought was: I never set a password.

...

Fuck it. Sylvia tapped the Open button. Bzzt! With a nasty buzz, the screen went red. Three seconds later it settled back on blue.

...

“Don’t tell me I’m supposed to open the damn user’s manual and look up the default?” Sylvia glowered.

This wasn’t a hunk of consumer electronics for which she could hunt down the part number and ask the internet. Shit. What did they normally use?

Admin, nope. Administrator. No dice. Sylvia Swallows. Eric Swallow. Swallow. Hunter2. Password. 12345.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

“Fuck this,” Sylvia growled, kicking the door in frustration.

The screen flashed an angry orange.

Warning: Use of force detected.

“Oh, you don’t like that do you,” Sylvia sad. “Then how about this.” Bang. Bang. Bang. She smashed into the door heavily with her foot. “Open the door for your user, stupid machine. Or better yet, call the administrator.”

Warning: Use of force detected.

Warning: Use of force detected.

Warning: Use of force detected.

Window after window popped up. When the fourth appeared, it went blood-red. The hall lit with crimson emergency lights. Weee-ooo-weee-ooo. Flashing bulbs were joined by shrill sirens.

Warning: Illegal entry attempt detected.

The System will purge all foreign objects in:

... 10

... 9

... 8

And suddenly the System cared. Whatever. At this point Sylvia would be happy enough if her consciousness was cast from her soul.

...

Purge did mean kicked, right? Right?

…

“Hey System, you’re not planning on killing your host, right?”

... 4

... 3

... 2

Fear rose in her heart. Fuck. Sylvia pushed her hesitation aside and threw the dice.

“LUCIFER.”

Sylvia shouted the name at the top of her lungs.

The hall suddenly went silent. The quiet was so quick it was ringing. Shoo. With a swish, the door opened.

She had guessed right.

And Sylvia wasn’t at all happy about it.

Lucifer. Not a devil. The Devil.

History named Lucifer the great betrayer. The most terrible evil in all the planes. But it also called him Prosecutor and Light Bringer. The man who challenged the tyranny of Zeus. The brightest star in the netherworld. No chronicle that marked the end of the Golden Age was complete without him. No book on the Silver Age could avoid mentioning his name.

The latter half of the Divine Era had been shaped by Lucifer more than any other man. For both good and ill.

The birth of the Heavenly Will was the source of Lucifer’s fame. A god above the gods. An impartial being to oversee law and justice for all the netherworld. With the Will’s creation, Lucifer’s name rung with renown. When Zeus used the Heavenly Will to solidify his power and forcible unify the disparate planes, it was Lucifer who crushed that dream into pieces.

These acts would later set off the Utopia War, the first of three great wars following the schism of Heaven.

So died the dream of unity. The relentless progress to a better future met its end. ‘The gold has become tarnished, only silver remains.’ – the immortal words of Lord Baal, dividing the Golden Age from the Silver Age.

By the time the first war ended, there was no man more hated. Whether one was a demon, an outsider, a celestial, or fey, Lucifer was detested. His name smeared with mud by every civilization.

Yet, there was no man more loved.

Even today the Festival of Light celebrated the birth of the Heavenly Will. In doing so, the netherworld praised its creator. It was Lucifer who defined the precepts of Karmic Law. It was his hand that made souls sacrosanct. Under the gaze of the Heavenly Will, those that dared to harm the root of immortality would face inescapable judgment.

The netherworld, which had been long wrapped in murk and darkness, was filled with brilliant light.

The barbarities of the bloodwars were ended. The atrocities of the Ancient Era extinguished. No longer could souls be shredded like paper. Nor could minds be twisted to conceive slaves, cultists, and monsters. Even at their height, the three great wars never matched the horrors found during the Age of Blood.

Only the outsiders clung to the past. Hiding from karma in the far planes, treating souls like so much trash.

In the last few months, Sylvia had sought the System’s creator. It was the book Lady Vallenfelt provided that hinted at the answer, Tarnished Gold. Who could create an existence like the System? Lucifer, who had already unleashed its equal. Who had the mad ambition to grant thousands the System’s gift? Lucifer, who shattered Heaven in his quest for a more perfect utopia.

It fit.

But Sylvia had been reluctant. The idea felt far-fetched. The Devil, hanging out on Earth, playing with computers? Ha! A red herring if there ever was one. Even now, Sylvia questioned her conclusion. Perhaps she had made a mistake. Maybe the administrator had invited her in to correct her error before Sylvia dared to speak the theory out loud.

Thinking this, Sylvia stepped through the door.

The control room was bright.

Metal consoles ran along the walls in a broad U. Giant screens stood above them, covering the rest. On the middle screen, Sylvia saw the twin nuclei of her soul. On the right they were depicted again, this time with parts labeled in vivid color. On the left, symbols scrolled highlighted in green or red. Common pictograms used to represent runes in written works.

Sylvia didn’t recognize most of them. Knowing the Lesser Codex forward and back was impressive for a first year witch. Not so much for a ten-thousand year old demon.

A high backed, leather, executive chair stood at the center of the room. Seated there was a tall man. Handsome, with sharp boyish features. Short blonde hair. Blue eyes. The man wore a white suit with a red tie. That formality was offset by the lazy, arrogant manner in which the man leaned back.

“Welcome to your soul, little pawn.”

His smooth, deep voice would’ve been agreeable if it weren’t so snide.

With just those words, Sylvia’s delusions were dashed. The Devil smiled.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue,” the blond teased, seeming to take sadistic pleasure from her discomfort. “You weren’t so shy a moment ago.”

…

Know what? Screw the Devil. Gods were just bigger men. Even they themselves had recognized this. Which was why, in modern times, they were called arch angels and arch demons.

“What’s my password?” Sylvia groused, releasing her accumulated frustrations.

The silver haired girl glanced side-to-side. No place to sit. Of course.

“A soul is not a toy for a child to play with,” the man rebuked. “Before asking for the keys to your own destruction, perhaps you should learn to read your own nether code.”

Scowling, Sylvia pressed forward, “So you’re Lucifer then.”

“Lucifer is a title, not a name. People have names,” he corrected. “But I go by that appellation, yes. And since you are a well-read little girl, you should know why it would be very, very bad to throw my title around carelessly.”

Oh. She did.

The title, Lucifer, was by no means forbidden. It appeared in all sorts of works and histories. But this was a world of magic. A world where words carried thoughts and emotions. A world of mysteries and divination. To speak Lucifer’s name carried an entirely different meaning when the word left the lips of someone who knew him personally.

And with the right magic, that alone was enough to find her.

It wasn’t a joke to say Lucifer was the most hated man in the netherworld. Heaven was actively hunting him. Their crusade would never end until all thirteen of the Devil’s evil pieces had been destroyed.

“I have no desire to meet Heaven’s inquisitors,” Sylvia confirmed with a shudder.

“Good.” The Devil leaned forward in his chair, his smile friendly, his eyes sneering. “Because there aren’t many gates leading the nether. It would be a waste if my most useful pawn was taken from me.”

Lucifer relaxed back again, peering at her past his nose.

“But since you have reached my kingdom, I will lower myself and sate your curiosity,” he offered with narcissistic generosity. “Ask as you will, little girl.”

…

She never would’ve believed it prior, but the history books actually undersold how arrogant Lucifer was.

“Then to start, let me say that I’m not a little girl,” Sylvia said with narrowed eyes.

Lucifer scoffed.

“If you are not a girl, then why are you here, prancing about in that body? And you will cease to be little after you’re a thousand years old.” The blond leaned forward. “You are nothing more than a newly weened babe. To call you little is already more than you deserve.”

Sylvia scowled. She bit her lip to stifle a retort.

“Pathetic,” the Devil mocked. “If you have a question, speak, or I’ll throw you out.”

“Why the System? Why me?” Sylvia suddenly asserted. “Why am I here?”

“That was three not one,” Lucifer pointed out. “But I can answer all of them. Utopia.”

The suited man spread his arms wide in emphasis, even as he leaned back in his executive seat.

The silver haired witch looked on in disbelief. “Utopia is an impossibility.”

“And that is why it is worth creating,” Lucifer countered. “Only the impossible can crown the glory of my genius. My goal has never changed. I will be the man who fulfills the golden dream.”

“If you’re still chasing after utopia then why fight Heaven?” Sylvia replied.

“Because they were in my way,” Lucifer sneered. “Zeus was a small-minded buffoon. Obsessed with power, he wanted to fix the world in place so it could never defy him. I had no choice but to grind his dream into dust.”

She was following the wrong thread. Sylvia wasn’t here to discuss Lucifer’s motives. Especially not those from six-thousand years ago. She wanted answers that had meaning to her. Most importantly, she wanted to know where she was going.

“Why me?” Sylvia repeated.

“Chance. Nothing more,” Lucifer answered. Then he smiled, blue eyes gleaming with malicious delight. “I gave you the System because you fit my criteria. Then, when that child Esmeralda opened a path, I used it. What? Did you think you were special? You are nothing. Your only value is as a prototype for all those who come after.”

…

Wow. That was harsh. Sylvia already knew she wasn’t special. Her life as Eric Swallow had long since killed those childish notions. But saying it outright was pretty damn rude.

It also didn’t resolve anything.

“Then, what do you want from me?” Sylvia asked, frustrated. “What are you planing to use me for?”

“Use you?” Lucifer laughed. “A petty pawn has no use. You don’t need to do or be anything. Level up. Complete quests. Conquer the world if you like. Isn’t that what players do in video games? All I need from you is data. And I will collect it by your mere act of existing.”

Lucifer paused. The Devil leaned forward, tenting his fingers in front of his face.

“But if you are looking for meaning to fill your hollow, insignificant being there are a few tasks with which you can assist.”

“So I’m just a sensor in your eyes,” Sylvia ground out.

“Yes,” the Devil confirmed. “That is a fit depiction of what you are. The question you should be asking is what do you want to be.”

Honestly. Sylvia didn’t want to be anything. What Sylvia wanted was to lazily live a cushy life with plenty of food, rest, and entertainment.

“Then I’d rather stay out of whatever mess you’re conjuring,” Sylvia said firmly.

Lucifer sneered.

“I didn’t take you for stupid, little girl,” the Devil said. “Unless you intend to ignore every quest my System offers, you are and will remain part of my every design.”

Sylvia scowled.

“You’re forcing me,” she accused.

“Have I ever forced you to complete a quest?” Lucifer refuted. “You may do as you wish. It is hardly my fault if you are tempted by the reward.”

The silver haired witch laughed. “You’ve never forced me? The penalty for failing my first quest was death!”

“I merely provided you with the facts,” Lucifer said in response.

Her teeth ground. Lucifer, Sylvia decided, was a real asshole.

A sly smile spread on the Devil’s face. “Helping me, is helping yourself. It will be very profitable. I promise.”

“I won’t get anything if I’m dead.”

“You are already dead.”

…

Touché.

And he wasn’t wrong.

As much as Sylvia wanted to blame Lucifer and his System, Sylvia had made her own choices. Nobody had forced Eric to head out on that fateful night. That was his decision based on his own interests.

And Lucifer was right to believe that Sylvia would give into temptation.

Could she truly bring herself to refuse Wizard Means Wise VIII ? No way. That was impossible. A blank skill book was worth too much. Even though Sylvia knew she was feeding the System and therefore aiding Lucifer, her behavior wouldn’t change.

Because without the System, Sylvia had nothing.

She wasn’t special. Her academics were merely above average. Her nature was lazy. Her talent for magic, ordinary. Without the System, Sylvia would spend the next nine years in the Starlight Nether Witch Academy being slowly polished by Baroness Vallenfelt until she was the most perfect witch ever to grace the school’s halls.

Sylvia wanted more. She had tasted the Devil’s fruit and was already addicted.

Which meant, sooner or later she’d find herself on the wrong side of Heaven.

And if that was fated, then she may as well collect the rewards.

“What are you asking me to do?” Sylvia said, slowly.

“I knew you would understand,” Lucifer replied, wearing the slimy smile of a used car salesman. “I have quite a few tasks that need to be done. Most to prepare a place for the souls of your kin. However, you are of little use before you Awaken. Until then there is one thing I desire above all else.”

“You want me to recruit Baroness Vallenfelt.”

Sylvia had thought the System acted strange on that day. Now the witch knew the Devil had been gazing back through the screen in front of her.

Lucifer’s blue eyes held a hungry glint. “Yes. I want her gate and her micro plane. With those, my plans will be greatly expedited. Her wealth and her person…, I suppose those will be adequate. She will, at least, be more useful than you for the next few years.”

Sylvia shook her head. “She’ll never agree.”

“I can be very persuasive,” Lucifer said with a roguish smirk. The blond man’s hands tented. The devil crossed his legs, left ankle over his right knee. “Especially when I have what that child desires above all else.”

What Esmeralda wanted? Sylvia thought back to why Lady Vallenfelt took her as an apprentice in the first place.

“Transcendence.”

“Apotheosis,” Lucifer corrected.

Sylvia’s expression went blank. That was… a lot more than she expected.

“You can promise that?” she questioned.

“I can promise the opportunity,” Lucifer clarified. The Devil’s smile was terrifying. “Not just for her. For you. For all your kin. Every. Single. One.”

The silver haired witch shuddered. A chill went down her spine. A terrible realization ran through her. Suddenly, she understood what Lucifer was planning.

“How many?” she croaked.

“All of them,” Lucifer supplied. “Once my System is mature, I plan to share it with everyone on Earth. All eight billion of them.”

“Eight billion.” Sylvia’s voice cracked. “You’re saying that all eight billion will complete Apotheosis.”

“No. All eight billion will have the opportunity,” Lucifer rectified. “As for how many in the end? I think one-in-a-hundred-thousand is a reasonable estimate.”

…

One-in-a-hundred-thousand.

One-in-a-hundred-thousand!

That meant eighty-fucking-thousand. Eighty thousand ‘arch-whatevers’. In all the netherworld, there were roughly two thousand living souls who had achieved Apotheosis. Two thousand total. That was the sum of all the arch demons, arch angels, arch faeries, and outer gods combined.

Lucifer was going to shatter the order of the netherworld then douse it with gasoline. If Heaven knew, if anyone knew, Sylvia would be so, so dead.

The Devil may as well have declared he planned to manufacture eighty-thousand nukes.

Because, for all intents and purposes, an arch demon was one.

“You’re insane,” Sylvia said with dismay. She could feel her dream of a quiet life shrivel up and die. “You’re going to set off another great war.”

“A great war? The three great wars were nothing more than a schism,” Lucifer denied. “This transformation will be much larger. Just as the advent of the Heavenly Will banished the shadows of the Ancient Era, the coming of my System will birth a brand-new utopia washing away the past and creating the netherworld anew.”

Lucifer’s eyes shined with mad delight.

“You’re completely insane. They’ll never let it happen.”

The Devil grinned. “I would like to see them try and stop me.”

Sylvia’s stomach sank through the floor. There was no way to escape this nightmare. Heaven would hunt her down and destroy her. It would send its host to Earth and flatten all seven continents. No. Who was she kidding. It wouldn’t be just Heaven. It’d be all three major powers working as one.

And, as the first, she’d be the fulcrum. Hers would be the name everyone remembered. As such, short Lucifer himself, she would take the greatest blame.

“I have no way of recruiting my teacher,” Sylvia said, weakly.

Should she help him? Ha! Ha ha ha. Did she have a choice? Lucifer wasn’t going to stop. The only way to protect herself from what was coming was to become strong enough to trade blows with Mammon, Mab, and Michael.

Simultaneously.

She was fucked. Utterly fucked.

And this piece of shit sitting in front of her didn’t care. He didn’t care that he had dragged every man, woman, and child living on Earth into a disastrous war all because he wanted to create a ‘utopia’.

Which couldn’t even fucking exist!

If Sylvia had a body of flesh, she’d be hyperventilating. Alas, as both a demon and a disembodied cognition she was denied the sweet, sweet release of oblivion.

“You haven’t noticed?” Lucifer mocked. “If you want to recruit your master, talk to the younger one. You’ll find her more sympathetic.”

“What are you talking about?” Sylvia said, feeling whiplash from the gap between thoughts internal and external.

“Then let me give you a hint. How can there be thirteen of me?”

Laughing, the blond man span in his chair, facing the screens.

“But don’t wait too long. Your best chance will be right after that child makes your apprenticeship official. Try to be quick. It’ll be easier if you act before the two become one.”

“Now begone. I have more important things to do than to entertain a squealing babe.”

Then, just like that, Sylvia was gone.

-oOo-

The Heavenly Will

The Heavenly Will is the existence that oversees Karmic Law. Created from a void soul 5783 years ago, the Will is said to have risen beyond the level of Apotheosis. It is a ‘true god’ surpassing the old gods of the Golden Age.

The Heavenly Will, by nature, lacks human existence and human experience. This makes its thought process incomprehensible to mortal souls. This also makes it a perfect, impartial judge. The Will calculates the karma of all souls in the netherworld and renders punishment or grace as it sees fit.

The project to create the Heavenly Will was headed by Prometheus. His success earned him the title Lucifer, the Light Bringer.

Karmic Law

Karmic Law defines the rules by which karma is gained and lost. It also decides how boons and punishments are rendered. All mortal souls are subject to karmic law, including those of animals. There are two sets of rules by which beings must abide the Edicts of the Will and the Law of Heaven.

The Edicts of the Will are the unknowable rules by which the Heavenly Will itself determines karma. The Law of Heaven, by contrast, is written by the Choir – Heaven’s legislative body. The major distinction is to whom these apply. All beings are subject to the Edicts of the Will. However, only the citizens of Heaven are subject to the Law of Heaven.

Historically, those who accepted the Law of Heaven could only escape by taking the Oath of Prosecution. Later, after the Unification War, the Fey Federation emerged with a second path known as the Law of the Wood. In modern times, Law of Heaven has been restricted by treaty to only those planes which Heaven governs. As such, the Oath of Prosecution has fallen to the wayside. However, anyone who wishes to hold the station of devil must take it.

Karma

In general, karma is gained or lost in accordance to actions. Actions may be personal or societal. Karma can accumulate to both individuals and organizations. This means states, nation, and companies can be judged just as easily as individuals.

Karmic effects are influenced by the scale of an action’s impact. This means that wealthy, powerful persons – such as the lord of fief – are subject to more dramatic swings in their karma. This has had a huge impact on how governments function, as no lord can run their domain into the ground. Not just because of their personal concern, but that of those in the hierarchy above them.

As karma is an important military resource, all three of the great powers carefully manage their societies to ensure that they will have ‘enough’ should a fourth great war occur.

The accounting of karma is completely managed by the Heavenly Will. Divination can be used to judge a person’s karma in vague qualitative terms but never in precise quantitative terms. While the exact rules behind Edicts of the Will are unknowable, it is clear that karma is most quickly lost when harming a soul. The karmic loss is so great, in fact, that all individual actions are nearly meaningless beside it.

Judgment

All souls within the Heavenly Will’s domain are subject to judgment should their karma fall deep into the red. However, there are various degrees of punishment that the Will might rain down depending on how severe the deficit has become.

The most basic judgment is lightning punishment. Holy lightning will fall on the offender, regardless of location, sheering through the soul. This punishment will cause a severe rupture of the outer membrane causing soul essence to leak and ruining talent until transmigration. By most, this is considered as the Will’s first and only warning to the offender.

If bad karma persists what follows will be the Curse of Ruin. With this, the Heavenly Will twists fate. The probability of all events that lead to ruin will be increased while the chance of any event that leads to prosperity will be narrowed. Once the curse is inflicted, it will not be lifted until the Heavenly Will deems that the sinner has atoned.

If this is still not enough, what will befall is Cataclysm. There is no specific shape or form to this punishment. Rather, the Heavenly Will will make use of whatever is available to utterly destroy the perpetrator, soul and all.