{Gait}

It was worth bearing this long-kept secret to break the news to the bastard himself. Razor relished the paling of the other man’s complexion. The widening of his eyes. And how lost they looked. Like he went his entire life prepared to endure a significance that he never attained.

Korac went empty. Hollowed out at the core as he stared through the floor. Sagan tried to console him. To explain how she wanted to graduate him into the news. Xelan climbed the stairs in the meantime. He kept his dark eyes on the prize.

Razor grinned in the calamity. Here on the verge of his death, he gained one more victory against Zero’s only named son, but something pained his heart. His admission to sacrificing Triss gnawed at him in ways he never imagined. Was he lying? Did it matter with his end so near? And why was he bothering with these thoughts?

He was the last living Aegis. This was the end of his race. That’s all that should matter.

And yet…

Xelan squared off with him, and Razor shook himself from the dreadful train of thought. Because this Icarus posed a new threat. Earlier when the Pain Curator mused that there was no one alive who could convince him to cycle… Well…

“How are you here?”

The dark-eyed Icarus scanned Razor over. Always seeing more than he let on. That was Xelan’s way. Eventually, he answered in that warm depth, “You know there’s no time for this, and I don’t have enough information to answer you.” Always so candid. “I owe you a debt, and I will repay you. Cycle, and I’ll release you when it’s time. I’ll upcycle you into the Hall of Dead Kings where you belong.”

It’s true. That was Razor’s destiny as the Pain Curator, the vice emperor of the Twelve Worlds. And even though no one proved the myth was true, he possessed enough confidence in Xelan to trust him to find it. “Without fail?”

“On my second life.” The Prince of Cinder held out his hand.

Razor clasped it.

Korac finally snapped out of his trance. “I want to know everything. About it all. Including whatever this is.” He gestured to their accord.

Razor hoped it stung like betrayal.

Xelan looked between the other three before assuring, “I need to return.” He pinched Sagan’s chin. “You take care, Planet Breaker.”

She cried out before jumping into his arms, “Oh, Elden. I missed the cheese so much!”

Endearing.

Sickening.

“Can we expedite this before I reconsider?”

Xelan waved before disappearing, presumably by releasing his fingers from one of their wrists and breaking the chain. Razor would never regret teaching the Icarus their ways. It proved useful on many occasions.

As the other two stared at him in awkward silence, Razor returned from his thoughts. Loathing every second of this, he drew out his time. Adjusted his collar. Straightened his lapels. Manifested a top hat to place on his head. And a cane.

Sagan glanced between the two. It made the Pain Curator smirk as she worked a crucial piece of the brother puzzle together. Korac glared as if he, too, realized the truth about his fashion sense and despised the very notion.

“Shall we?” Razor bowed to Sagan with a sweep of his hat. When he finished, he offered her the crook of his arm. “Indulge my last wishes?”

Korac’s eyes frosted over, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. “It’s just a few steps. And if we can’t handle these barbs, how can we expect to face the axe that’s coming?”

Wise girl. Embracing the impulse to needle Korac by paying Sagan a compliment, the Pain Curator offered, “You’re a lucky Icarus.”

The man glowered at Razor. His gaze locked onto the offered elbow like he wanted to break it.

The last Aegis laughed. “It would make my last moments more interesting to see you try. Not even a train can break the bones of a pure Aegis. Although, you’re realizing that, are you not? Has anyone other than yourself ever broken your bones, baby brother?”

Korac wanted to bare his teeth. To snarl and growl. It was all over the Icarean half of his face. But he maintained the Aegis high-brow in regal silence.

Sagan also glared at the Pain Curator as she took his arm, and he led her down the stairs without further conversation.

In his last few steps, he reflected on if anyone would consider Triss lucky for having him. He came to only one conclusion.

It depended on their definition of luck.

Reaching the pool, Razor stared at Sagan. He frowned as he contemplated her. Their interactions and her sincerity toward him.

She stared serenely back, as if she knew his thoughts. Softly, she shared, “I don’t regret my kindness or my openness. My willingness to make a new friend and help them in any way I could. I only regret that I wasted it on you.” Pulling away, she returned to her lover’s side.

Razor understood. He didn’t regret a single action he took or a word he said. He only regretted that it had to be her. “Into the pool, and the cycle begins. All my knowledge and memories will upload into your bones.”

“No tricks?” Sagan sounded more concerned than accusatory.

He looked around the tall bastard between them to find her pretty face. “No tricks here. And I am currently bleeding to death. Lovely touch, by the way.”

She flushed, more with discomfort than the compliment.

Korac caught him smirking at her, and this time the Icarus snarled.

Razor let the mask fall and allowed the boy that robbed him of everything to see the chaos beneath. “The only solace I find with you living every moment of my life with me is that I have forever marked her heart with my name. She will fear the axes you assigned such significance. Shy away from the ropes and flames to which she once trusted. Dream of me after long nights with you. And you will live knowing not every dream will be a nightmare. Some will be her satisfying her curiosity of what carnality would be with me instead of my younger, less experienced half-brother.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Korac’s expression shifted from one of anger to perplexity. He frowned, less with rage and more with bewilderment. With so much venom directed at him, seemingly unprovoked, why would he not?

Sagan appeared at her lover’s side instantly. The man let her turn his cold face from Razor. She cupped his jaw and smiled sweetly at him. They stared, having a conversation without words. Without the Pain Curator’s interference. But he knew what they said in their exchange. Even if his words held some truth, they would manage together.

How touching.

Together, they stepped into the pool with Razor.

The cycle began, and the roses burned with black flames.

Razor gestured to the pool of blood. “Imagine beginning your life three hundred and twenty-four times removed from greatness.”

It swirled in color and shape until figures formed. They acted out moments of his life.

Zero cradled his son. The blood figures shifted to include the brothers and a slab of stone like that which surrounded them. They laid Three Two Four on the slab and monitored a pit filled with Cascading Light. They fixated on a single star. When it went cold, the baby glowed with a white light.

Another scene. This one showed Three Two Four in a glass room with a faceless Aegis woman. A small child, he sobbed and reached for his Zero. The father, with his back on his son, explained, “Your brothers and I have important work to complete. When we finish, we will come back for you.”

The boy clenched his fists at his sides and cried, “You never finish!”

Only then did Zero face him. “What truly troubles you?”

“I want a name.”

Zero recoiled. The man referred to by his own people as the “Exalted” shrank away from the child, begging for a name. “Why?”

The son stepped away from his mother, toward his father, and explained with adult reasoning. “You will know me this way. If I have a name. Among my brothers, I will be more than Three Two Four.”

Understanding filled the great man’s white eyes. Even so, he shook his head and left the hall without another word.

The woman wrapped her arms around the small boy. “When you grow old enough, you will join them at their work. And you will be great.”

Already small for far too long, Three Two Four sniffed. “Elia, why am I still little? Why do you have a name and not me?”

She squeezed tighter and assured, “We must wait. For greatness takes time, my son. And only you and I know my name. We will make one for you, yes?”

“I want father to give me a name.”

The scene flattened out for a breath. In that time, Sagan met Razor’s eyes. Soft was the only word to describe the expression in them. For a reason yet unknown to Razor, it left him cold. Chilled to her ongoing kindness. Perhaps to fortify himself for what came next.

In their villas on Thailea, Three Two Four tried for millions of years to impress Zero. To find his greatness. To earn a name. Meanwhile, his bones grew slower. He only experienced growth spurts after a Probability collapsed, and with his brothers at work, that occurrence grew less frequent.

Three Two Four ventured out on his own to experience worlds beyond the interference of his brothers. He wanted to see how fast creatures implanted with his bones might grow. He traveled all over the galaxy to discover the same result consistently. The amber glass restored and regenerated. Except for that one beast with gray skin, short trunks for legs, and three horns on its face. Its legs didn’t grow or reattach after infusion. He put it down in the end.

After years of demanding an audience to present his findings, Three Two Four convinced Zero to agree reluctantly. The young Aegis demonstrated the results for his people, expecting praise. Expecting a name. Once finished, his brothers cheered in a chorus of accolades. But his father looked on in horror and a hint of something akin to envy.

As the blood pool morphed once more, Razor knew the two passengers on this journey gaped at him, but he focused on the look in his father’s eyes. And the Aegis’ words from only hours ago. “I was jealous.” And how this late apology amounted to nothing in the grand scheme of Razor’s life. It couldn’t change the decisions he made since that day. The punishments that followed. The gnawing starvation for the man’s approval the last Aegis fought to this day.

Tears steamed Razor’s eyes.

The blood molded into the next scene.

When Three Two Four needed privacy, which was often, he returned to the Seam. All but abandoned by his people, it served as a reminder for him to continue innovating and to invest long term into his goals. So that he didn’t abandon them for the new like his people.

After the demonstration, however, he doubted himself to the point of tears. Even they hardened into glass and shattered on the floor. Why couldn’t father love him? Why was Three Two Four smaller, lesser than his brothers? Why was a name so much to ask for? It would make him stand out more to Zero.

His tears scalded and burned. He clenched his fists and jaw. Three Two Four was so hungry for recognition. Hungry for prowess. Hungry. So. Hungry—

Light emanated from him. Swelled and consumed. In it, threads spread from him. He chased them down and found other verses. This. This is what Zero sought. One verse turned gray and withered. He touched it and the dying light went into his hands. Starting at his fingernails, it glowed in those bones and traveled further up his arm into his body. All the dying Probabilities absorbed into him. Fed the empty. Salved the lonely. The threads returned to him. The bright light receded.

Finally. This would garner father’s attention.

The nameless boy grew physically older as he practiced with little notice from anyone. He wanted to perfect this ability before bringing it to his father’s attention. In the meantime, the oldest son, One, finished Enki. And Zero boasted about it so much that the others tried to replicate its success. Construction on a second sphere began immediately.

While exploring the phenomenon the Aegis came to call Inanis, Three Two Four witnessed the development of a second sphere construct. Looking to impress Zero, he threaded the lines together until more figures of his brothers arrived. Surely combining their talents and labor would speed up the process.

As Three Two Four observed the mixing of the realities, the borrowed figures lashed out in their confusion. His actual brothers were powerful enough to overtake them. But many of the figures died before Three Two Four released the threads. When this happened, the Probability Matrix multiplied like cracks on glass and branches of lightning. Many of these collapsed instantly and the extra energy fueled Three Two Four.

The multi-verse slipped out of their careful understanding, which the Aegis considered control. Too much unpredictability frightened them. Now his people feared the white light they called Inanis. To fear him without knowing it was Three Two Four.

Razor clenched his jaw and gripped the cane’s crown with both hands. Nail-less hands.

After the light retracted from an Inanis feeding, Three Two Four staggered at the sight of Zero in Monarch Hall. “Father, please. I cannot explain it. Why can we not think of it as another gift?”

Zero glowered in iron disapproval so strong Three Two Four tasted its bitterness. “You devour the potential of fallen Probabilities. You steal these necessary energies and fuel the light in your bones with it. Can you not see how wrong you are? Never harness this again.”

Three Two Four clenched his jaw, defiant. “Are you jealous of the nacre, father?”

Zero recoiled and glared at his youngest son. “What am I jealous of?”

“That we can affect other beings, and that I discovered it. Not you. The Exalted. Are. You. Jealous?”

The older being looked around the faded hall before returning his hard gaze to his youngest son. “I will stop you from producing Inanis. Come with me, Three Two Four.”

He never hesitated and followed Zero to an amphitheater that quickly filled with Aegis. Punishment was abnormal. So much so that Three Two Four never witnessed one in his lifetime. As he descended to the center, he resolved to survive this shame and never pursue their praise again.

Fucking hypocrites.

The great Exalted Zero was mistaken. The power was not held within Three Two Four’s fingernails, but he wasn’t about to volunteer that information.

So they wrapped him in ropes like a fly in a web. His brothers all took strands, holding him in place. Their father approached the only exposed part of his cocooned body.

Admonishing, Zero declared, “This is the lesson brought onto yourself. Do not let us resort to exile from our home.”

Three Two Four never screamed while his brothers held him down and his father removed parts of him.

Korac watched with icy composure, and not a glance spared in Razor’s direction.

Sagan hid her face in the Icarus’ chest.

“Oh, my kitten, there is so much more to see.”