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The 'Why?' Behind Ascendancy
Chapter 4 - Of Ire and Standardized Units

Chapter 4 - Of Ire and Standardized Units

Of Ire and Standardized Units

"What can we do for you?" Red smiled at me.

Taine picked up, "We got a new batch of Spatial cells. 18 quarts of a Metal Core from a Baron Pitch 8 Ascender? Some new FumeHoods? Flame Silvers? Fou–"

"Quit the advertising." I chuckled, "I'm going to need a couple of things. Listen in." They leaned forward. Without prancing around, I started, "First, I need Burney. He's going to check something for me, and then you're going to let him retire. With money and protection. And you're going to let him know it was arranged by me."

Taine shook his head and answered, "No. You can have Burney for a day or two, but letting him go? Not possible. He manages all my security systems. Without him, I'll have to go through a process of vetting someone else, making sure they're capa–" He waved his hands, "Anyway, it's too much of a hassle. Can't do. And, why do you want me to fire him? Can't be out of the goodness of your heart? It's nonexistent."

I nodded, he set up fair reasons after all, "Letting him go is a bribe. I'm going to show him something that I'll need to keep under wraps for a considerable amount of time. I'm instilling some gratitude in him so he doesn't go blabbing to his buddies." I frowned before it reverted back to neutrality, "As for your systems...I'll encrypt them for you. I have an algorithm that I was planning to sell to Redding Solutions, but I can give you a nibble at it. It'll protect you better than any living."

Taine hesitated, "I'll let you kn–"

I interjected quickly, "Nope. I need an answer now." I waved a hand at the drunk criminals. "I can go to someone else."

He grumbled, looked at Red, and nodded slowly at me.

I let out a breath. "Alright, next thing– "

Taine cut in, a subtle frown sliding across his face, "Payment."

"Well, considering I'm giving you a fucking multi-thousand-note algorithm that took me and Solutions weeks to agree on, I'd say I'm paying you just fine. What else do you want?"

Taine was blunt. "The algorithm was justification. For payment, you're going to get Wall Guards to leave a gap on the Eastern Partition, Quadrant Four. I have some smugglers coming in."

I drummed my fingers ln the table, considering, "I'll just be paying you in cash for the next one then. I've got an appointment soon. I can do this, but anything else will delay it too long."

Before they could say anything else, "It'll be simple enough. If it's not worth it, well," I waved a hand again at the drunk crime lords indulging in every possible way to screw their bodies up, "One of them will probably be amiable to the idea. It'd be more expensive, but money is efficient."

Taine glanced at Red who shrugged. He signaled a 'maybe' to me.

I flapped a hand like clearing smoke, "We've gotten away from the first one. You're going to give me Burney for a day after which you're going to let him retire with lucre, protection, and a note that says it was arranged by me. Then, I am going to grossly overpay you with a multi-thousand-note resource and hack into my family's Empire's security systems so you can smuggle in some crap. I mean, honestly, fuck you." I grumbled for another minute before I asked, "Deal?

Taine smiled sickly sweetly, "Of course."

"Alright. Now, Red, this one's for you. I need a Reshaping."

She nodded, it was a common enough request, before I continued, "A permanent one."

Her face stilled, "What?" Her face ripped itself out of confusion into a deluge of emotion, "You do know you're a p–" She quieted, "A fucking Prince?!"

I nodded like it was the most reasonable thing. Her face warped, "It'll be the biggest insult you could give them. They'll kill you. They'll fucking kill you."

I nodded again, "Of course, it wouldn't matter much if I was not part of their family again, now would it?"

Red gasped, "They disowned you?"

"I left." My words were short and bland, a signal for warding off further questions.

She looked at me silently for a moment, before looking away. I scrutinized her for a second before looking away too. Lost in my thoughts, pondering whether it had been the right decision to tell them, a short couple of seconds passed.

It wasn't.

I glanced at Taine, who had been silent. A complex look flickering over his face. He took a deep breath, "Look, I know you and I have had a healthy relationship for a good while and we've been something close to friends, but, what use are you to me anymore?" He looked regretful for a short moment before his eyes flashed into impassivity, "You aren't part of the Royal family. You aren't privy to the same information. You don't have connections. The rights. Resources. Money. Status. You don't have any of it. I can't be owing favors to people with minimal value. I'll do this one thing because you're giving me something of use. Otherwise, we're done. You can come to me like any other client."

I was jaded to it. Still, my first reaction was sadness. It still hurt, the pain of absence. Every time someone does something similar, it always gave me more motivation to power forward, yet, more weight to carry onwards.

My face warbled. It wasn't the first time it had happened. Still, I hoped. I nodded. I sniffled. And then my gaze hardened into adamantine. My posture shifted from leonine and relaxed to stiff and formal. My face was carved from stone for all anyone would see. I folded my hands together. And I looked at him as the cold being of someone who had averted frigid reception by becoming the chill itself.

If Taine was surprised at the transformation, I didn't let him express it, "Very well," My voice cold as the darkest days of winter, "As you have indicated, we only deal in worth. So here's what's going to happen,–" I continued slowly like I was talking to a babe, "–you're going to do exactly what I say, and I'm going to do nothing in return."

I waited for the question. It came, "And why would I ever accept that?"

"Why? Well, you know those documents I had procured from the Investigator's Office? Some nefarious deeds there, my friend. What would happen if this time, they actually arrived? Oh! And what would happen if they had a bit of garnish? Maybe smuggling routes? Your suppliers?" My voice dropped into the deep grumble of cruel glee, "You presume much. You have grown fat and greedy on your perceived throne of kingship.

"I know every single thing about your operation. And let's see here, " I opened up a screen that projected out from my bracelet, I opened a folder and snagged those files. A moment later I had placed most of the damaging files into a folder that would be made public on my demise, "See what I did there?" I didn't let them answer, "Upon my death, these files will be made public. You'd be crippled." My voice lowered into something maliciously sadistic, "You'd have to run back to your father. A coward. You'd be placed in the lowest possible position if he doesn't reject you outright."

Taine had risen out of his seat, his teeth bared, his breath was storming out of his nose, and his eyes blazing, "I will kill you. I'll fucking rip you apart."

I looked at him in mimed confusion, "Haven't you heard what I said?" I repeated myself slowly, "You kill me, your operation disappears. You kill me you have to run back to your father. You kill me everything you have evaporates." I waved a hand with a manic, excited visage. I mockingly gasped, "And what would happen if all your resources went to your father. Instead of giving them to the Investigators, I'll give them to your father. Oh! That would be much more satisfying, wouldn't it? What an idea! I'll do that I think. Evidence to the Investigators, resources to your father, and reputation to the public! Oh, wonderful!" I cackled with glee.

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Before he could blink I shot upwards and grabbed the back of his head bringing it close to my chest so I could whisper in his ear. His Ascent strength little, and his talent worthless enough that he wasn't even beyond a human's capabilities. "Do you think to fuck around with me? How dimwitted can you possibly get? I'll fucking ruin you. I'll rip everything you have apart. Do Not Screw Around With Me." I let him go.

He sunk back into his chair, his anger undiluted.

"So, now that you know I hold everything over you. We can establish that you're utterly and completely worthless. And I can't be owing favors to someone with minimal value." I gave him a cheeky grin, "Connections, resources, status, information, I've got dominion over all of it. And you can't do anything about it!"

Taine glowered at me, his eyebrows pulled down in an extraordinary smolder. His shoulders and back were ramrod straight. Every muscle tensing and the muscle in his jaw was bunching and bouncing.

I spread my hands, "And Taine, if you're having a hard time and you're going to get all misty-eyed, I'll put you out of your misery."

He stiffly stepped out of his chair, his back a motif of muscles and rigidity, and walked to an attendant. He spoke in hissed tones.

The attendant proceeded to usher everyone out of the room, leaving me, Red, and Taine, alone.

He glared at me and signaled for another attendant. Telling them to get Burney.

There really wasn't any other choice available to him. I smirked. I'd always despised power and the skewed perceptions it placed on life and worth, but the exhilarating feel of actually having it was something different. The primal surge that accompanies dominance, of a domineering action and having the substance to back it up. It was thrilling.

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Burney was a direct man in his mid-forties. A short beard, average height, he was unassuming. The vitriol that man could spout, however, was just amazing. I think I broke him.

He was just staring at the code I had shown him. And then he breathed out.

And kept doing so.

For a while.

His face was purple by the time he stopped.

"It's brilliant." He said, "It is fucking brilliant."

I smiled.

"Will it work?"

"With what you asked me about? Hell, no. You're tracking power is going to need to border on precognition and accurate prediction. Maybe, a couple of strikes, but as the permutations increase, it's going to become a pain. Eventually, you may reach that height, but the time it'll take to bring this up to speed is going to be literally, infinity years from now. You've tried, but fighting is more about instinct, and you haven't mimicked that. You created something that can learn, at exceptional speeds, but fighting is that one exception to this. It'll work for one hit. Ten hits? I don't think so." And then he exclaimed, "But the code, man. It's beautiful. It's gorgeous. This code is stunning. It's neat and concise, with perfect meshing. You see the reflexive regression! Do you see it! Can you feel it!??!" There was a manic gleam in his eyes. The same look I got when I figured out some problem. I stared at him. Passionate man. I was the same.

But I just felt a sinking feeling.

He wasn't completely oblivious to my despair, "The code here is amazing. I've said it before, I'll say it again. The code has the capability and you can extract it." He scribbled down a series of equations for Essence convergence and flow rate manipulation. "If you enchant your Christophers, you could possibly send it to such a high level that it would pick up on the subtlest of tics. A state of perpetual hyper-awareness that can categorize nuances and segregate them into various groupings. You could manage indefinite combat sequence permutations. Tracking them before they even happened! It's choreography. You wouldn't be able to lose. And damn, it even computes in the opponent's factoring speeds. Your idea behind this is phenomenal. If you are at the exact right place before they attack, for every move, fifty moves ahead of whatever strike is being prepared, you can actively fight back! Even a cripple like you!" Well, he was obnoxious about some things.

I still frowned, "But the amount of Essence required to power any enchantment is already absurd. Powering six of them, as complex as what you propose? And then the Essence reinforcement required to maintain the enchantment over such a period. We haven't even looked at the Essence required to push my Christophers into that state."

He just smiled at me, "Well, look at them."

I rolled my eyes, my expression loosening just a little bit. I grabbed a spare sheet. "Standardized Rellian units?" He nodded. I got to work.

'4000 units of ScyGrade argEssence pushed into 68 cells of catalyzed pheEssence. Managing that with 600 units of tyrEssence and stabilizing the point-6 grams of my Christopher apparatus, Graff's formulae yield...about 5800 Typh. Each Typh is about 4.8 Standardized Rellian Essence units, spread across 6 is 167,040 units. Jeez. Alright, next is the reinforcement the enchantment needs when channeling. About double of what's inputted. So for every unit of Essence, we need two to compensate for the strain. 501,120 units of Essence. Fuck me. That's nearly 1000 more Essence units than Primordials. Fuck. Fuck!'

I just looked at the paper, where my calculations were scrawled. They seemed unnaturally small. Like they were trying to shield their numbers' absurdity. I focused on them.

I reiterate – fuck.

I gulped. There was more.

'When transporting larger and larger quantities of Essence, dissipation increases. Core to Median isn't an even ratio. Likewise, Median performance also isn't an even occurrence. Core Essence vastly exceeds the capability of Median transmittance. Medians are semi-permeable to Essence. For every 100000 units flowed, some 1000 units are lost. For every 100 units, I'm losing 1. A 0.01 loss. Negligible at my current Ascent level, but 1000 units at the higher stages would be considerable.

'A constant in Ascension Theory is that 100 units of Essence per second are the limit for Essence transference. At around 500,000 units, we're looking at about an hour and a half to prime the enchantments. Resting regeneration should be able to keep up with the tension. Now, if I thrust 500,000 units into a semi-permeable medium, I am losing 5000 units, pushing into reserves. That 5000 throws me back 50 seconds. Continuously over roughly 16 hours, before I can restore, I'll need to pump 505,000 to keep up with the losses, just to kick it off. I have an additional, 500-unit requirement to support the enchantment. Each enchantment needs to be fortified every 10 seconds, while in use. 500 every 10 seconds, is 50 every second, whew, at least that works out under 100. Pushing 16 hours or 57600 seconds is another 288,000 units of Essence. Fucking, fuck, hells.

'Every day, I'll push 793,000 units of Essence to let my Christophers keep up with Ascenders. Notwithstanding Essence losses in the constant fortification, which would probably tide my net over 800,000.'

Burney hesitatingly broke the silence, "Eight-hundred-thousand, three-hundred-thousand more than the Primordials have. I mean, I said, you might be able to push these Christophers of yours to some phenomenal heights, but if you had that much Essence – never-fucking-mind."

"If I had that much Essence, I probably wouldn't need to use my Christophers."

He frowned in thought, "No. You would. Ascension Theory has those numbers on proportion, right? It isn't an invariant Core capability to pure output. Your Essence reinforcement is already in a two–is–to–one ratio. If you pushed all your Essence into your mind, it'll probably just...explode. You'd need to support it."

"Eight-hundred thousand units of Essence." My eyes flashed and resolve took root, "I'll do it." I deflated. "But not in eight years, " I muttered.

The next Tourney was in 8 years. Every 10 years, the most promising youths of their generation(under 30), came together to face a series of challenges, ending in a sequence of single-elimination bouts. Think of the previous challenges as qualifiers. The final bouts, however, were something to watch.

I needed to participate. It would be my ultimate retribution, my liberation. I had dreamed. I had dreamed to stand atop the shoulders of the fallen contenders, and roaring my name for all to hear. And when everyone knew the name, Rale, I would say: 'Fuck you.' It was all I wanted. To stand at the pinnacle and reach for the bottom. It didn't make any sense. But, all I desired in this life, was to reach the absolute and definitive peak of strength and show everyone else at the top, what it was like to be at the bottom.

My eyes fluttered shut. Even after all this, reaching my goal was impossible. Sharp and piercing it sliced open hopes, it tore my dreams apart. Flung out into a chaotic void that, on entrance, was irretrievable.

Inhaled air chambered out my nose, "Leave. I got Taine to secure you a passage to somewhere in Wealth. Your resignation has been accepted. Keep all I've said a secret, otherwise, I'll get Taine to rip you and your family's lives apart. Now, get out."

My snarl did nothing to halt the smile that climbed onto his face. All Burney ever wanted was to live out the rest of his life, peacefully, and without the constant disturbance that comes with criminality.

He ran to the door as fast as he could.

I sighed as I was left alone and collapsed into a chair. I was just as caged as I was in the palace. Aching for more, settling for enough.

I took a deep breath.

I needed strength. Some motivation. I had pushed and pushed for something that would remain sliding away. How did I get here?

My eyes snapped open. 'Little by little. Day after day. Month after month. A little bit more. You'll reach it, eventually.'

It was something I had repeated over and over again during the more difficult periods. 'Little by little.'

God had given me one advantage. My mind. My intelligence. What the hell was I doing, trying to fight like the others? Heading to the Ruinous Cloud Sect, for what? To get beat up for years as my Minds, struggled to categorize even the infinite combat sequences.

'A little bit more.'

First, I needed to push my Christophers higher. After that, I wou– no. The 'after' comes after. First, I needed to enchant my Christophers.

The Ruinous Cloud Sect – the fuck am I talking about? No, my place, was at the Inalisan Academy of Essence Formations. Time to start fighting like Rale. I would be free of the world's shackles. What the hell was I doing, wallowing under their methods? Their ways.

I would win as Rale. Not someone else. By my way. My method. I didn't need 800,000 units of Essence. I would find a better way. Or, I would get 800,000 units of Essence. And then, pound their asses into the fucking ground.