His vision filled in from the edges, color shifting like developing film. He wasn’t in the pitch black of the coffin anymore. Air filtered in on command and he had never been so happy for anything in his entire life.
With the immediate issue of his impending asphyxiation appearing to be tabled for the moment, he finally turned his attention back to his surroundings. Had he been hallucinating in death? Was he dead now?
If this was the afterlife, he was about to be really annoyed, because it looked just like his bedroom—before his father had ripped down all his posters and burned his figurines.
Then his eye caught on the poster of his mother, hanging directly over his fireplace, and his mind short circuited.
I heard her voice! Was that real or just wishful thinking?
He cast about, looking for her, but there wasn’t anywhere to hide, where could she be—
“Hello, Terry.”
He spun around, his eyes tracking to his computer chair where she leaned back casually.
“Mom…it is you!” He rushed to slide off the bed, but her hand raised, stopping him dead. There was something off about the gesture, something that didn’t ring true.
“No, I’m not your mother.” It was her voice, her face, her eyes…but the mannerisms were gone. Where she had been vibrant in her expressions, her eyes brimming with laughter just waiting for an excuse to jump out, now, she looked cold, clinical.
He sat back, examining her closer, testing with his aura as well as his other senses.
As soon as his aura touched the corona surrounding her, he immediately recoiled, shuffling backward on his bed and falling off the edge in his haste.
He bound to his feet, eyeing the thing inhabiting his mother’s body with both fear and awe.
The feeling of its aura had been unlike any other aura he had ever experienced. Vast, towering, incomprehensible…cold, powerful, beautiful. Gossamer webs of energy trailing away into the distance, a million visions of life, death, power, hopelessness, and so much more.
But the sensations were fleeting, slipping away from his memory like sand in an hourglass. He tried to examine them before they disappeared, but the more he regarded them, the faster they drained away.
The horror and beauty of the thing before him was magnified by the fact that it inhabited his mother’s appearance. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that…
Then, it shifted, his mother’s features expanding, darkening. Thick, valley-like scars appeared like molded clay, her body turning masculine, skin weathered and muscular.
In a single breath, Whipvine now sat before him, the scars dancing on his face as he smiled.
“I do my best to choose the most comforting appearance for my Awakened, but sometimes the shock overrides the senses.”
It was Whipvine’s voice speaking, but there was that same alien texture to it and Terry’s mind finally snapped into place.
“You’re the System,” he finally said.
“Some call me that, yes. In other realms, I am called the Weaver. In others, the Mother. Others, the Bringer of Life, Power, and so on. Many names to reflect many cultures.” Whipvine, the System, whatever this thing was, shrugged—such a human gesture after such inhuman words. “You may call me System. The clinical detachment of that title seems to help some of my Awakened reconcile my nature.”
My Awakened? The possessive nature of that term was less than comforting.
“You preferred your mother, then?”
Whipvine’s features began to soften.
“No!” he said instinctively. He didn’t know why—all he’d wanted in the past six months had been to see his mother again, in the flesh. But this…this was a perversion.
The shifting stopped, Whipvine’s face snapping back into place.
“Very well. Are you prepared to accept your duty?”
What had been that word it used? Detachment…
He understood now, the System wasn’t human—wasn’t even human-like. It was an existence that dwarfed his own. He felt so small, so inconsequential.
It can’t be like this, this can’t be the truth. We are ants before this thing.
“I sense your dread, Terry.”
His head shot up at that. Is it reading my thoughts?
“You’re wondering if I’m reading your mind. No. But your Presence is open, your existential terror rippling across my senses like the horror-scream of a gazelle locked in the lion’s jaws.”
Pretty much, he thought.
“This is very common, Terry. But inaccurate; the metaphor incomplete. I am not the lion.” Whipvine—no, the System’s avatar—tilted its head in thought. “I am the teacher. I am the mother training you on the etiquette of survival. Which watering hole is safe. Which sounds are the wind and which are approaching death. But more than that, I unlock the power you cannot realize on your own; guide you through its uses and application. I will help you become strong, so that you are not the gazelle, but the lion. Only the lions survive in this universe, Terry. For it is vast and full of horror. You have not seen this horror, yet. But it exists. And I will train you to fight it.”
He reeled away, his back touching the wall. The physical sensation comforted him and he pressed his hand tight to it, clinging to it like a totem.
“This was not-I don’t—” He scanned the room, looking for an exit, an escape. Maybe this was a bad dream? The hallucinations of an oxygen-deprived mind.
“I’m going to calm you now, Terry—” Those are the least calming words I’ve ever heard. “—Do not resist, because that will feel unpleasant.”
No thank you, I’m good, don’t calm me down—
That towering monolith crept toward him, enveloping him so completely and suddenly that he couldn’t have resisted if he wanted to. Pure, unfiltered emotion was injected into his aura, like a supercharged Mesmer tricking him into a state of calm.
Images and feelings shifted together, like paint splashed into a pool of water. A calm and sense of surety overlaid across his thoughts and he had to wonder why he had been so panicked a moment ago.
Sure, it’s a bit scary that this unknowable creature just compared me to a gazelle. It’s also pretty terrifying that whatever is out there is bad enough that this towering presence has to train us to fight it. And I’m definitely confused on why something so strong needs us humans at all…
But at the same time, I’ve always known that supers were called by the System to fight in other places. Every Capstone involved a summoning—and many Midmark Quests, too.
I guess I just expected it to be more…human.
“I’m feeling, well, not great…but better.”
The Whipvine avatar nodded. “I am sorry for alarming you. I’ve tried sheltering my Awakened in the past and have had poor results. One of your people refers to this as the ripping the band-aid off approach. But I assure you, I will not summon you for many years.
“However, that is not to say there will be no requests. On your world, we call them Quests. Some are crafted to help your Skills advance, while others are to meet a specific need. These Quests are non-negotiable. Failure to complete them has consequences.
“Which is why I always give my Awakened a choice.”
Terry’s mind felt heavy, his aura sluggish. He was hearing the words fine, but it was like he was forced to process them in slow motion. Probably to keep him from overreacting, having a gut instinct that would push him back into a spiraling anxiety.
“What choice?” he asked after what felt like a full minute.
Whipvine—the System—stood from the chair and approached the fireplace, its back to Terry.
“Accept both the power and responsibility of becoming my Awakened.” He turned, and for a moment, all Terry saw was his mentor in those eyes. His thoughts moved so slow that he was able to shove down the revulsion of this doppelgänger and think of him as just Whipvine, just his old friend. “Or, refuse. I will hold nothing against you, nor will I punish you for your decision. But I will never offer this again. And you will never learn what happened to your mother…”
It was multiple seconds before the shock of those words filtered through whatever forced calm the System was imposing on his mind. But when they did, even that weighted blanket that was its aura couldn’t completely stifle his shock and outrage.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“What…you’re holding that knowledge hostage?”
Whipvine shook his head. “No, not hostage. I am bound from revealing that information.”
“I don’t understand. Bound by who?” Terry asked.
“By myself, by my peers, by the agreement I make with all my Awakened.” The avatar moved to the bed, sitting on the corner as it regarded Terry. “Which brings me to the next topic of discussion. The Rules.”
“Rules?” He felt his mind bucking against the aura blanket and took a moment to process. As much as he might not like what amounted to an emotional drugging, he also didn’t want to be curled up in a ball in the corner during the most important moment of his life.
“Yes,” the System replied. “The Rules are simple, but absolute.” It ticked up a finger. “One, you are never to discuss the details of a Quest except when explicitly stated. Two, you may only discuss the specifics of your Skills with other Awakened. You may reveal your Class with non-Awakened without issue. Three, you are never—”
“Sorry, hold on.” Terry’s brain was finally catching up to the System’s words. “I can’t discuss Quests even with other supers? How would we work together? What’s the point of that, anyway?”
The System avatar nodded as if the question was expected.
“That is where Rule Five comes into play. Let me move in order and then I’ll come back to your question.”
“Okay…”
“Rule Three, you are never to force, coerce, or invade the mind of another Awakened in order to reveal the details of a Quest or their Awakening. Any information that you arrive at of your own volition, either through trickery or happenstance are acceptable. You will receive warnings when I perceive you are operating outside the bounds of that restriction.”
Wait, what? I have so many questions about that.
“Rule Four, there are no restrictions when it comes to conflicts between Awakened. Violence, imprisonment, and mental manipulation are all acceptable, insomuch as you do not violate Rule Three. Which brings me to Rule Five.”
The Whipvine avatar took on a pensive look, staring into the unlit fireplace for a moment before answering—a starkly human expression after the alien nature of the last few minutes.
“Rule Five is this: never reveal anything about this meeting or our discussions. This is the most important Rule and one that, if broken, will seal your fate and force you from my protection.”
Terry frowned at that, both confused by that last statement and how this tied in with his earlier question.
“Okay, the part about not revealing our discussion makes sense. But why would it force me out of your protection? And what does that have to do with not being able to discuss Quests with other supers?”
The avatar’s expression shifted, the eyes cutting back to Terry with an intensity that would have unnerved him except for the aura drugging wrapped around him.
“There was a time when we kept this a secret—” There was that we again. “—thought it better to keep younger beings in the dark until we felt they could handle the truth. That led to…many unfortunate mistakes. With your world and other newly Awakened worlds, we have shifted to a more open policy.”
This is open?
“To that end, I will reveal to you now the purpose of Rule Five.” Terry felt his emotions push against the aura blanketing him, then recoil back into placidity. “I am not a singular existence. Others of my kind…and some not of my kind, are engaged with your world and others.”
“Others…” Terry whispered. “You mean you’re not the System for every super?”
The avatar shook its head. “I am not. Nor am I aware of which Awakened are pledged to which existence. I only know which are not mine. Even if we were to become aware, we are bound not to divulge such information. We may, however, assign Quests that directly pit you against other Awakened. Do you understand the implications of what I am telling you?”
“Not even remotely,” he answered after a moment.
“This is why Rule Four and Five exist. For better or worse, you are our proxies. Conflict and some measure of fighting is expected, which is why Rule Four does not restrict you from doing so. But Rule Five…that is for your own benefit. Were you to discuss the details of this meeting, it would become apparent which Waker you serve. My opposites would utilize their Awakened to crush you before your power could bloom.”
Terry shambled over to the bed, his legs weak. He nearly missed the edge as they gave out.
“You’re saying…other supers would be sent to kill me…if I revealed my System is the Weaver, the Mother, or whatever your name is.”
Whipvine’s features contorted, the avatar’s scars twisting into a frown. “Most assuredly. When a super reveals their Waker, they put a target on their back. My allies would be your allies, but my enemies would be your enemies. This is why we give you a choice. You’re being conscripted into a war that has existed since before your species discovered fire and will continue to exist well after your sun burns out. Some are not meant for war and we understand this. However, I would not offer you this opportunity if I didn’t think you were a good candidate.”
This was too much. His thoughts felt heavy, unable to navigate all the threads this System was dangling before him. “I guess I understand why you put this calming blanket over us. That’s a lot to digest, but…I think I’d rather have this conversation without feeling like I’m drugged.”
“I understand,” the avatar replied. “Brace yourself.”
A moment later, the weight of the world left his shoulders, replaced by the weight of what the System had told him.
Other Systems, fighting each other through the superheroes of Earth. That, I can wrap my head around. But not knowing which are the good guys and which are the bad guys puts me on edge. And for the first time, he considered the implication of multiple Systems with regards to his family, their conflict with the Knights of Sol, and his mother.
“Was the Knights of Sol attack another System directing them at us?”
The Whipvine avatar shook its head. “I cannot say.”
“And my mother? Was she the same System as my father and grandfather? Was she yours or…?”
“I cannot say.”
The frustration boiled over now that the aura blanket was gone. “Dammit, what’s the point of these stupid rules? You can’t even tell me who my allies are in this proxy war? What if I end up killing one of yours or…they end up killing me? It doesn’t make any sense.”
The avatar spread its hands. “You are still new to this, so I don’t expect you to fully understand. We Wakers have our own agreed upon restrictions as well. Were we to employ our Awakened in unrestricted open conflict, your world would become uninhabitable within weeks. It’s happened before and we learned our lesson. This is a shadow war for your world, Terry, and we each have our agents which we employ as fits their specific capabilities. As for why I will not tell you who my Awakened are, well…in time, I might reveal such details to you as required. But every covert operation relies upon the compartmentalization of information. We operate in cells, Terry, not armies.”
He growled, shooting to his feet to pace the room. A part of him almost longed for that aura drugging, but that was only weakness. No, he needed his full senses to process this madness.
“You said so yourself, none of us can coerce the others into revealing information. So why the secrecy? If you said to me right now, your father is one of mine, how could I mess that up? It would only increase our cooperation!”
It would be so much simpler if he knew his father was one of the good guys. His mind caught on that thought. Are we even the good guys? Is this System even capable of such distinction?
“It is not so simple, Terry,” the avatar replied. “The absence of information is revealing in and of itself. Perhaps I did not tell you your father is one of mine. What then? Is he necessarily your enemy? Perhaps he is an ally today, an enemy tomorrow?” He shook his head. “You will come to understand in time. That is all the assurance I am able to give you.”
He didn’t like it, but that did make a sort of sense. A very paranoid sort of sense. But then he remembered the possibility of other supers being given Quests to kill him and he could at least appreciate the strict secrecy was partially to save him from that fate.
But even if he acknowledged that the System knew what it was doing, he still had a thought niggling at the back of his mind.
“Are we the good guys?” he whispered. He was so afraid of the answer, he almost pulled the question back. Did I want to know?
Yes, he realized. I want to know—have to know. Those words he had been repeating in the coffin echoed in his mind now.
Please, System, give me the power to fight evil like that…
The avatar regarded him for a moment, Whipvine’s eyes sharp, piercing.
“Good and evil are subjective, Terry. Every creature is the hero of their own story. Very few are cruel for cruelty’s sake—”
“No.”
The avatar stopped, Whipvine’s eyebrows rising.
Terry shook his head.
“Sorry, but you’re wrong. Maybe you’ve seen things I couldn’t possibly imagine, but have you considered your vastness has altered your perspective? Skewed it so much that from your tower of power, everything is grey?”
The avatar smiled. “Isn’t that what I said? It’s subjective. A matter of perspective. Good, evil, indifference, hate—they all only exist within the lens of the individual.”
Terry chewed his lip, mulling over those words. He could see what the System was saying—even agree with it on an intellectual level. But there was something inside him that wouldn’t accept that; something that clung so powerfully to this possibly childish assurance.
“Maybe you’re right,” he admitted, his eyes trailing to the fireplace, lost in the dancing flames. “Maybe good and evil are just my childish projections of a limited point of view.” His gaze cut to the avatar, his conviction settling in with the weight of dried concrete. “But I know what good and evil mean to me. And I’m not willing to compromise on that.”
The avatar smiled—ugly and violent on Whipvine’s face. But he could sense something in that expression, a smug satisfaction, like he’d walked right into a rhetorical trap. But whatever it was he was seeing in the avatar’s face, its tone wasn’t gloating.
“Yes, Terry. I already know this about you. It’s why I’ve crafted your paths the way I have.”
He frowned at that. “Paths? Is that what you call Classes? Or maybe Quests?”
“It’s a composite of that, and more. Simply put, it represents what type of Awakened you will be. Through that choice, I select your Class, craft your Skills, design your Quests, and so on.”
He perked up at the mention of Classes and Skills. But none of that answered the question from before.
“And my mother? You said if I refused I’d never find out what happened to my mother. But if I accept, you won’t tell me, will you?”
“No.”
Frustration boiled beneath the surface and he paced over toward the fireplace, staring into its depths as his mind raced.
“Then what’s the point? Why would I choose to become your Awakened? Join a fight that isn’t mine. Put my life at risk for…what?”
“For an opportunity, Terry.”
He whirled on the avatar, that boiling frustration simmering over.
“An opportunity for what! To live in secrecy? The threat of imminent death from other supers always hanging over my head?”
The avatar stared back impassively, Whipvine’s eyes relaxed and patient.
“An opportunity to become powerful; do good; do evil. Become famous—or not. The choice is yours. Make it now and I will facilitate your path.”
“I don’t care about power or fame. I’m just a kid who misses his mother!”
The avatar nodded, a sad look crossing his mentor’s face for a brief moment. He wondered if that was calculated or a genuine expression.
“I will present you with three paths, Terry. Paths which I have extrapolated would suit you.” The avatar leaned forward, the light from the fire dancing across Whipvine’s eyes. “If you accept one of these paths, I promise to guide you toward the answers you seek.”
“And if I don’t…I’ll never know what happened to my mother?”
“It is possible you will learn more, in time. But it will be out of my hands. I cannot promise one way or the other.”
He sagged against the fireplace mantle, feeling trapped. This wasn’t the exciting empowerment he had expected. He had imagined himself Awakening to a brand new world of exploration and power. Instead, he was faced with a heaping pile of danger and more questions than answers.
“So my options are remain powerless and possibly never know what happened to mom. Or accept both power and the responsibility of a war that I literally just learned about five minutes ago?” He turned to the avatar. “Am I getting that right?”
The avatar nodded. “A fair assessment. How about I present your paths and you may choose…or reject my offer and return as you were. Would you like to hear more?”
He hated how manipulated he felt, how this Weaver, this System—whatever the hell—was backing him into a corner and making him feel like it was a choice. But more than that, he hated how desperately he wanted it all the same. He felt like a fish who knew it was hooked but didn’t care to squirm off the line.
It was impossible to deny, he wanted superpowers and he wanted answers. If he had to agree to vague rules and the threat of death from other supers…well, no one had ever said being a super was a peaceful life.
And the mystery of his mother ate at him like acid—it would burn him up if he never discovered the truth.
“Yes, I want to hear what my choices are.”