Drawing in a deep breath, the comms officer nodded, reaching for the talismanic knife. The Courier and the Commissar both evacuated the chamber with some reluctance, making their way to the ground floor.
There echoed a determined cry up the stairwell: “MAY HIS DIVINITY’S RULE EXTEND TO THE HEAVENS AND BEYOND!”
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Empyrean brilliance spilled forth from the comms officer’s body, consuming everything in his vicinity, iridescence bathing the chamber as his body and soul were both consumed by the trinket. The annihilation of his being seemed so absolute that death would not suffice to describe what happened to the man; in a flash he was extricated from the wheel of reincarnation and bestowed the Amaranth, the Enlightenment of Absolute Self-sacrifice. At least, so went the belief of Pateirian emperor-worship.
The ritual dagger was left floating there, above a pile of ashes and clothing, crackling with eldritch arcane energies. Then, around its handle formed a hand, then an arm, and a body, wrought of Fog and light in the image of the comms officer. Weightlessly floating right over the still-immobile giant’s form, the spiritual construct raised the knife. Its edge unfolded, revealing a delicate key of brass within, and it was this that the spirit thrust into the spindle which pierced Von Wickten’s brain.
With a flash, the spirit was gone; sucked back into the key.
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Smothered in oily, all-consuming nothingness, all thought was drowned by an unceasing maelstrom of perversity and vulgarity of his own making. Unable to think, or speak, or do anything other than watch his own body so eagerly do the very things he himself had enjoyed; consumption, violation, degeneracy. A puppet to his own narcissism, hedonism, sadism, psychopathy; possessing no more free will than a nature-spirit. There was no choice to be made. The Impurity Elemental had no more free will than the remnants of humanity which it suppressed; as a being created by debauchery, it actively required debauchery to sustain itself. This, at least, he understood.
Three spires of jade pierced him; pain followed. Iridescent light shone through the sea of tar seemingly in defiance of all logic, and soon a jade key buried itself into his being, too.
An impassive, commanding voice reverberated inside his skull. Not a man, or a woman; just a metal machine doing its work.
CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.
EXTRACTING DONOR COGNITIVE PATTERN…
PURGING DONOR IDENTITY…
PURGING…
PURGING…
PURGING…
PURGE COMPLETE.
Wisps of iridescence streaked-through with the white of Albedo arose from the jade knife-key, dissipating into nothingness, discarded. Only a generalized mental scaffold was left behind for the arcane machine to use.
COGNITIVE RECONSTRUCTION TEMPLATE: VIABLE.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
An all-consuming, overpowering thrum shot through his being, a sensation surpassing any description beyond its intensity. Pain and pleasure, heat and cold, it was everything all at once and it burned.
FINDING HOST COGNITIVE PATTERN FRAGMENTS…
DEFRAGMENTING…
DEFRAGMENTING…
DEFRAGMENTING…
NEW COGNITIVE CORE FOUND.
COMPILING NEW COGNITIVE MAXIMS IN ASCENDING PRIORITY ORDER:
ABSOLUTE WEALTH
ABSOLUTE STRENGTH
RETRIBUTION AGAINST “ZELSYS NEWMAN”
INITIATING COGNITIVE RECONSTRUCTION…
One by one each jade spindle sunk further into his body, turned clockwise, then sunk in further and turned counter-clockwise, locking fully into the armor.
INITIATING DANTIAN RECONSTRUCTION…
INITIATING IMPURITY CONTAINMENT…
A palace of silver and white jade rose from the sea of tar, carrying upon its tallest spire an emaciated figure. Great waves stirred up and crashed into its walls, but to no avail. Meanwhile, in the material world, the subterranean chamber was utterly flooded by choking smoke, its walls and floor smashed to smithereens as Von Wickten’s as-of-yet uncontrolled body tantrumed in a futile effort to rip the spindles from its back.
“NO. I WANTED THIS. THIS IS WHAT I AM, THIS IS WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN. I SHAN’T BE ENSLAVED TO A FAKE MIND!” it howled.
The jade palace within his mindscape grew outward, and a gleaming suit of armor mirroring that which his body wore took shape around him, supporting the anemic form of his thought-self and a jade sword implicated itself into his hand. No more drowned in his own impurity, Adalbert Von Wickten raised the sword and with it stilled the ocean of impurity.
His body had rampaged all the way up the stairway and cornered the Commissar, only to stop dead moments from crushing his skull with its fist.
“Impurity Containment successful," the Armor of Pure Purpose stated flatly both in his head and outwardly.
Von Wickten uttered: “Finally. I must thank your Emperor for this.”
His voice blasted out like the bellow of a wrathful god, reverberating within the armor. Then, just as he rose to his feet and began reveling in this altogether new feeling of who he was, this new identity that felt as natural as if it had always been his own, that cold voice returned into his mind’s ear.
HOST STATE NOT STABILIZED; PROCEDURE IS REVERSIBLE.
PERMANENT HOST STABILIZATION CONTINGENT UPON HOST AGREEMENT TO SOUL-BINDING CONTRACT.
TERMS OF CONTRACT:
TOTAL LOYALTY TO TIAN FENG, THE EMPEROR OF PATEIRIA.
“Tian Feng? The Emperor? I thought that was-”
“Xiān Dì! His Divinity has no other name!” the Courier blubbered as he stumbled to his feet. “Is the Impurity Elemental still in control, or have you returned to your senses?”
A bubbling, seething resentment swirled up inside him, but it only escaped in the form of a bitter chuckle.
He seethed through his teeth: “Accept.”
The Commissar alongside two other soldiers had emerged from the mansion’s depths by this point to investigate; turning to the Commissar as he arrived, Adalbert rumbled: “Take me to your Black Mirror Array. I would speak with His Divinity.”
“But-” the Commissar began, only for the Courier to interrupt.
“Do as he says, Commissar,” the Courier said. “I will take responsibility.”
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A short while later…
“It is good to see that one of my older creations still works as intended. There were no complications, I hope? No remnants of the previous wearer?” came a thoroughly amused series of questions through the mirror, the Divine Emperor’s normally apathetic face looking at Adalbert with an unsettling smile on his statue-like face.
“The contract. I accepted. However, I have a request.”
“Speak it, then. The plans I have for you will not come to fruition for some time; I may yet grant your request.”
“Permit me to pursue the Heretic’s Daughter.”
“You need not have doubted that I would accept such a request. Do as you will, but do not cross the Blackwall and retreat should you suspect your impending defeat. Understood?”
“Understood.”