“The secret of the world is this. The Grand Council are liars and our world is built on fabrications and falsehood.

You know of the man with the permanent sneer.

He’s known as an icon of shame. The one who rejected the Grand Council when they introduced Remarks and made it the worlds birthright. His actions flooded the world. But what they never told you is the man with the permanent sneer was not against Remarks.

He was against conservatism. He was against half measures. And he was never a he to begin with. For he was Death, and as we all know Death is a woman, and a very fine one at that.

And Death was there when the Diving Bell broke free and entered Gehenna. And Death was beloved from the start.

She spoke of the Visionary, the place Remarks come from. But Remarks are just the harvested drops of a massive sea. So much potential going to waste. She talked of bathing ourselves in it’s marvels, of taking its majesty and wearing it like cloaks. Coating ourselves in it, enhancing ourselves, fortifying ourselves until we were monsters that could go toe to toe with the real monsters.

Death had many compatriots in those days. True allies who understood her mission. I was one of them, no, I knew of- I was, I was, I was-“

Morgan coughed violently. Overcome with emotion, Yucian Vast reasoned. The emotion came out as black bile that dripped from his mouth onto the large dais in front of him. Morgan looked up at her, but where once there was great wisdom there was now just a dull confusion.

“Apologize.” Daaz said, slapping the man before removing the overflowing bowl and replacing it with a fresh one. Quertra stood behind him, ready with another dose if it came to that.

“I’m… I’m terribly s-sorry” The man who surely was no longer Morgan said, sounding more pathetic with every word. “Wait… who are you all? Where is-“ He screamed as Quertra injected him straight in the tattered old spine. Within seconds the serum had done it’s work, and both he and his cloak looked fit as a fiddle. Those milky white eyes were back, so gentle and comforting.

”I do apologize. Now where was I?”

“About Death, the way she would wrap herself in coats of Remarks.” She said, practically purring. Yucian sat kneeling only a few feet away, still giddy with the knowledge she would become the forth Constant. It felt almost as good as winning the election. Which, sure, was easy since the previous Mayors death, and all the other candidates had died or gone missing, but she was popular and had kissed many babies and would have won no matter the circumstances.

Morgan had said so herself. He was so happy she supported what he was doing in the city. She saw the vision.

The basics of Morgans condition had been explained. Sometimes their great leader got taken over by an idiot, it was awful but that was the type of people the Grand Council were, who had poisoned him long ago. They had demonize Death, they had demonize Wyrms. They would surely demonize their own brothers and sisters.

“Right.” The cloak shifted like sand as Morgan talked, the two complimenting each other like a poet and their muse. “Well not quite, you see Death did not necessarily like Remarks. She used one, of course, but her goal was always to break free of those limitations and become one with the Visionary. And that is our goal. To become clothed in Vision.”

”Is that what you wear?” She said eagerly, pointing at his Wyrmskin cloak.

He raised a scarred eyebrow, like she had spoken out of turn. “No… sentimental value.” He did not elaborate, and raised the large black spire, the Contrarians Needle. “Are you ready to see the Visionary, and be clothed in it?”

”Of course.” She was hungry for it. It was such an honor to be taken in as a Constant and skip the Numbers entirely. It wasn’t due to her position (a beneficial coincidence) it was due to her. A beautiful, strategic mind. And now she’d have the physical power to match.

But she frowned, realizing something had never been stated. “But how will I see it?”

”Oh that’s simple.” And he took the Contrarians Needle and stabbed her in the eye.

…

It was surgery now. The Remark both the doctor and the scalpel, filling Yucian with it’s essence as it scooped out what was unnecessary. She was protected by a force field of ribbons. Moving around her so fast they were almost invisible.

Powered by the Contrarians Needle, it was no longer a Remark, but a conduit for a convergence. A secret handshake that merged at the bone.

Atleast that's what Adam figured. He was speaking in a uninterrupted info dump of terror.

”The pact she had made has cannibalized her. Something horrible flows through her now, she is being sculpted by malignant hands.”

As ribbons of empty space flew around the metamorphing Constant, she casually placed a hand on her bulging Remark and sloughed off some of it, wrapping the pulpy substance around her now skinless arm.

It didn’t stop at the wounded area.

“The Remark is acting on it’s own, finding imperfection in wherever it was not. We’re watching a monster be born. Oh Curtain oh Curtain.”

Hailien attacked. Her swing was caught by another paper strip, spun off as a reflex and holding her Remark hostage.

“And just like that, we’re ready.” She yanked the strip back and Hailien spun in the air before landing with a crash. The boat sprung a leak.

“Now’s your chance” Hailien screamed, righting herself up. She did something strange. She threw her sword at Yucian

who dodged it easily, as expected.

And then there was Hailien, sword in hand next to the Constant. This swing hit, disrupting the ribbons which burned away.

Devon ignored that Hailien’s teleportation broke all known laws of physics and cut across the growing monsters achilles.

Blood came out like pages from a book, fluttering violently in the wind.

“She isn’t human anymore.” Adam said. The implication was clear.

Hailien chopped an arm clean off. The thing that could no longer be called Yucian caught it as it fell, quickly shaping itself into a dagger that pierced Hailien’s side. She took the hit like a unwanted papercut.

Devon was on her, frantically stabbing at anything halfway close to flesh. The substance of her Remark was tricky, attacking it just redistributed it.

“You are helping me grow.” Casually, she swiped at Devon like she was picking a nasty scab, the trail of blood that flew out from her face froze in midair. Like orbiting comets being pulled into a planets gravity, they moved closer to Yucian, compelled by her hand as she gestured them forward.

“Don’t be distracted.” Adam said, “You have control now.”

But Devon needed to watch. Before her eyes the Constant own blood hardened into a new edge for the creature. Sturdy skin to protect from a similar cut. Despite her injury Hailien was keeping her cornered. Therefore occupied.

The leak in the ship was becoming a puddle.

“Worth a shot.” Adam said, as if he was a thousand miles away.

Dismounting off of the still growing Yucian, she twisted her head around to follow.

“Where are you going little Martyr? Don’t think I forgot about you.”

A small sliver of flesh that got sliced hopped after Devon. The scrap of Yucian transformed on a minuscule scale, anything to make it deadlier, teeth and eyes that became weapons that became cities that bled into turrets that were serrated. It leaped once it had achieved a perfect form, the edge of a blade.

Bracing herself, she caught the thing (which hurt like misery) and submerged it deep into the water.

It dissolved quickly. The essence of the Remark still tried to fulfill it’s directive, adapting in this new environment. But there was too much water, and too little of itself. It managed some rudimentary gills before becoming a fine powder. And then nothing.

Yucian howled. And it was not from one of Hailien’s blows.

“By all means this can work, but this is a horrifying prospect.”

Her Remark, even the smallest piece, was still her, and was still felt.

“What we are doing is far worse than simply killing her.”

“What are you doing?” It was unclear if the change was so gradual Devon hadn’t noticed it till now, or if her transformation had suddenly taken an abrupt leap. Whatever the case, Yucian now resembled a large hairless cry wolf, her papery body looking like leather bleached white. Hailien was in one paw, pinned to the ground and yet still struggling.

“I am very aware.” Devon said, ignoring the Constant. She propped herself in front of the puddle, taking a stance that was killer on her knees but Adam resolved that quickly.

There was commotion above them, probably those crewmates loyal to her, trying to save their Constant.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Funny.

Even if they broke in, how would they recognize her? She was an Abberation in all but name.

Bestial Yucian ambled towards then on all fours. Her eyes were unfocused, and she swayed to and fro, hitting the sides of the boat as she went. “Your plan is to make me step in a puddle?”

“Desperate times.” Devon said. She didn’t want Adam to speak anymore, even if Yucian’s mind reading abilities were concerning, she didn’t understand the drawbacks to her own Trick. Hailien stood up slowly and inched to the other side of the leak. It wasn’t a puddle now, it was a watery break in the ships floor growing quickly.

The monster that was once Yucian arced her spine back to laugh, her head flipped as her chin scraped the ceiling. “You will drown here, and I will leave this place reborn.”

“Drownings preferable to being killed by a mangy crywolf.” She said with delight. “At least I’ll die clean, not stink like three days old catch.”

”YOU INSOLENT-“

Not bothering to adjust her neck, Yucian’s top layer grated away on the ceiling as she charged like a crawlcow starting a stampede, most of her head grinded away into a nub. Her eyes burned with fury. A new ferocious mouth was growing in her neck.

The whole ship shook and seemed to stretch infinitely as the creature somehow found more and more space to pass before arriving at it’s target. Devon could not tell if this was her fears or something else, but she accepted it as truth, for it was all she could do.

At the last moment, as Yucian’s neck jaws became the sky, Devon yelled “now” and she jumped backwards across the hole, using Adam to widen the gap as she slid backwards. Hailien did the same, thrusting her own Remark back and breaking away the floor.

Yucian Vast fell into the hole clumsily, a great big animal forced into a bath.

It should be noted at this time that Yucian was the acting mayor of town. Potentially the biggest tragedy was there was no around to call for a snap election.

As she flapped and flailed, Adam flew by, cutting her again and again, each mark considered and deliberate. Instead of healing, the overachieving Remark substance tried to convert the water. Not just the puddle, the sea it seeped out from.

That was a sea thousands of miles long, rumored to be growing by the day. Yucian never had a chance. Within a minute one of her legs had dissolved and stained the water a strange grey. The substance had compromised and become concrete.

Yucian screamed, not understanding what was happening outside of the pain itself. “I am a Constant” she repeated endlessly. “Constant Constant Constant.”

Hailien took point around the hole, slicing at any piece of her that tried to escape. It was remarkably tedious work killing a god.

“Constant Constant Constant… Constant COnstant… Constant. All I wanted was to do good.” Her words were slowing down with her heart beat, pulsing so loud it rattled the walls. Only her face was above water now, the rest had become a thick paste she was trapped in. “I was already running for office when Lemure came to town. It made sense to support him. It made sense to stop all elections once our victory was secured. Constantly mayor. I am Gutworth I am this city. I keep the ships running, I make the deals. I take the blame because someone has to. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Hailien struck the final bow. A clean cut across the neck. It fell to one side like a clay statue being toppled, dissolving slowly into a paste hardening by the second, now comparable to concrete pre mixing. Devon’s vision grew blurry. There was no one there to keep away the pain, and now she felt it all at once. She lowered her head in unison with Yucian as the beasts massive mouth said one final thing.

“I knew the world's secret… how could I die?”

.

.

.

The most you need for a ships crew is five. One to keep the vessel sea-worthy, and four others to keep the first one company.

Look here! No, look there! It is Collapse, the star sailor of the Fall Collective, the only one who’s bothered to earn her sealegs. And seahands for that matter. Watch as she jumps from mast to mast, marvel as she yet again adjusts the wheel just so and prevents the ship from an untimely end. Wonder in sheer amazement at the fact that none of her crew mates have ever bothered to help her.

Now be shocked at the surprisingly simple answer.

They’re busy, oh so busy engaging in what they call “theatre of conversation”. It’s an art, and that puts it above critics.

Oh it took them a good week to workshop that title, but only a second to justify it.

Understand thusly that Collapse never even set foot on a boat before she and her group commandeered this vessel, but she made it her mission to become its master. The fact that two years later they were all still in one piece was evidence that she was doing quite well.

She ducked past Trip and Stumble to haul in one of the squishsnake houses. They were discussing the inevitable death of Gutworth, an evergreen topic.

Seems like it was always on the verge of dying, but help any of them if it was ever truly defeated. The evil empire cut their checks, after all.

“No no no, you’re misunderstanding me. Right. I understand that this isn’t new, right? I would never dare to suggest this situation is unheralded. The reaction to it though. The reaction- now that is quite new.”

With all the energy and vigor of a crawlcow farmer trying to sell a square mile of sewage, Stumble always committed to the bit.

Even when she was wrong, even when she knew she was wrong, she would never let anyone get the last word. That didn’t make her a great leader, but it did make her a leader.

It helped that outside of her quest to never be viewed as wrong, Stumble was a kind person. She showed her appreciation in small ways, like leaving an extra sugar cookie for Collapse when they would go off shopping.

Or making sure to bring back everything Collapse asked for for the ships maintenance, and then some.

Of course, Stumble was not an expert at ship repair, and most of the “extras” she bought back were useless or irrelevant, and there were ingredients in the sugar cookies that never sat right with her stomach, but it was the thought, Collapse had convinced herself, that counted.

She heard the other side of the convo as she scurried back across. Trip came in with his dulcet tone, a pitch too low for anyone but him “Lets make this clear, Collapse, get this on the record.” She manifested her remark to sign back “I’ll try” before opening up the side hatch and lowering herself into the kitchen, she still heard the conversation through the ships membrane.

“You’re willing to go on record that you think this will matter?”

“Fuck, Trip, doesn’t everything? Don’t tell me you’re one of those Confabulists.”

“Their literature is persuasive and far more coherent than you’d think, but you’re playing to the audience. Where do you see the Legacy after this is all over?”

The squishsnakes were a bitch to cut, boneless but with pseudo keratin that could serve as such when neccesary, chopping them up was a exercise in trial and error.

“We’re gonna be taking names and kicking ass, hopefully with a sixth member finally. You know I’ve actually been eyeing-“

“Cease with the daydreaming, yes or no, will the legacy exist?”

She aimed for what she assumed was the head, and the dammed thing slithered into itself. Her knife sliced down on the washboard, adding another cut of many into the linoleum. No worries, her Remark did the job in a pinch, and the thing was cut in twain.

“Thats not for me to say.”

Now they could be cooked. She hit the side of the wall and turned the boiler on, heating the washboard so that it hurt to the touch. What was left of the squishsnakes sang.

“Then what impact will he have? Not to be presumptuous, but the threats already over. He’s dead, we have what is at best a surrogate. This girl who got his Remark. And she’s not- she’s not a fighter.”

With the food all set, it was time to babysit the rigging. Plunge handed her a spare pin as she passed. The girl was leaning against the bow, poised to fall if the wind shifted even slightly.

“Are you sure about that?” Plunge said, keen on the conversation. Her drawl and clipped accent hailing from a place she kept ambiguous. Collapse was convinced it was entirely a put-on, and she was from GutWorth, like the rest of them. “Have you seen her fight, or have you only seen her avoid them?”

The ropes were all diagonal angles, either crossing up or down. The design was one she inherited, and she never tried to deviate from the criss-crossed chaos, she simply upkept as well as she could.

She tightrope walked over Plunge and Trip. They were face to face, heads practically touching, Trip looking liable to push her straight in. Collapse hung upside down and retied a fray knot.

“Okay, so she’s Death incarnate or some crawlshit. Bad for us. We should get off this boat when we can before she murders us all.”

Collapse frowned, she didn’t want to consider that.

“”You’re being alarmist”

“I’m being a parody of what you’re suggesting. Why not just stick a knife in her and be done with it?”

“I don’t think she’s a threat.”

“Then we’re on the same page.”

“You don’t think this is a harbinger? The end times does not signify the end, do you agree?”

“I don’t agree with anyone peddling the idea that Adam constitutes change. He’s dead. The only thing he changed at the end of his day was the rate of his own heartbeat.”

”From normal to none. Hah!”

“And yet it doesn’t feel it! And thats my point!” Stumble lifted up her collar to reveal her bulging vein number. “Our numbers are still frozen, no one is celebrating him biting it” She put her hands on her hips and turned away in that classic Stumble way of declaring victory. “If this is over, the boss sure is slow on the uptake.”

Collapse counted Trip’s reply with her footsteps. She had retied two lines before he finally had a retort, and it wasn’t worth the wait. “So are our paychecks, but he always comes through.”

Dive barged out from the interior just as Collapse was running back to the bow of the Eggshell, their speed and direction synced as he approached Stumble.

He leaned in and whispered something.

“And furthermore” Trip said, “Doesn’t this put us in the upper echelons of the numbers at this point? Or well, close enough.”

“Where are we going with this?” Whatever Dive was whispering to her, the others didn’t care.

“It takes time to work out such a major shift in the power structure. Hell, I think Hailien is the new 41.” He said this with a happiness that seemed to surprise him, as he course corrected by taking on a more dour tone. “But it’s a process, things need to be adjusted, files need to be written”

Meanwhile, Collaspe had taken out her knife and was getting rid of the barnacles that plagued the front of the ship. It wasn’t an issue now, but without routine maintenance they would start chipping the wood, then creating holes, and the most undignified death for a sailor is dying cause your ship sprung a leak.

“Stumble, he’s been whispering into your ear for like a minute, what message could possibly be that complex?”

After the successful removal of a half dozen, she fought a particularly stubborn one to a draw. It detached from the boat, but the tip of her knife went with it. Signing to herself a secret curse, she climbed back to the deck of the ship. There was a change in mood, but addressing it could wait. Whatever had been whispered had been shared, also in a whisper, apparently. Whatever.

She went to open the hatch, about to ask Hailien for a replacement, and Trip took out his remark, lodging it into the grating.

“There’s a lot to discuss, but first off we don’t go down to the lower decks anymore until further notice. And um… we leave the Constant in there if she’s not dead in an hour. We’ve been told to burn the boat if Hailien dies.”

Dive and Plunge, quite the odd couple, worked together to pick up some cargo crates and place them over the other hatches. She could see movement that was bright and concerning. Some massive white thing with claws and teeth. Trip used a handkerchief to tie shut the one beneath him.

“What’s happening?” She signed.

“The inevitable. What do you think?” He took out his card, the one that showed their true loyalty. “Fuck Morgan, fuck the Legacy. We’re loyal to Hailien and each other and no one else.”

The others already had there’s out. All except for Dive who explained hastily that his was in his other trousers.

Understanding, Collapse took out hers, and signed that it really was about time.