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[>>Now replaying: Log 3.16.3.1 - eye on the target]

Date: Error

Location: The Bunker at Progress’ Head // Zephyro’s Domain

//And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’? //

//A cult of personality, or a cult of the leader, is the result of an effort which is ... Cults of personality often accompany the leaders of totalitarian or ...//

//Never leave your eye off the target, Son. Always watch. Always keep those peepers open. One moment you think you got the sucker, and the next-&&//

[>>DATA CORRUPTED]

E2 %As it should. The Mage Lords weren’t perfect, but they were great heroes who could accomplish incredible deeds. Their watchful presence kept the entire world stable for over a thousand years.%

In the red and white light of Zephyro’s moon, the huddled crowd looked even more scared.

“I won’t just let them die,” I heard myself say. What a dangerous and dumb thing to promise. I thought back to my friends. Thought back to how they died. I didn’t save them. I couldn’t save them. I was powerless. No, no, that wasn’t right. I could have saved them, I just didn’t want to, Olre whispered in my mind, his words and my thoughts having become one long ago. I made that decision, he said-I remembered. I had proved the Conservationists right. By sacrificing my friends to save myself, I had all but admitted to being what they called me: a tyrant.

My mouth was dry, my stomach in knots. In my mind, the abyss gaped. The rope frayed.

“Ah Sultana, of course you won’t,” Zephyro said, his warm voice startling me out of my thoughts.

I scoffed, less at his words and more at my feeble attempts to believe him.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, let me get the CPU upgraded, then we can talk about how we will—“

Zephyro interrupted me by grasping my shoulder. His hand was arm and annoyingly reassuring, so I couldn’t bring myself to shrug it off. His eyes searched mine, but I couldn’t meet them.

“I know what you are thinking, Sultana, but you would not. Not if you had a choice.”

I shrugged off his hand, snarling. “There’s always a choice, you just need to be strong enough to make it!”

The Vizier’s eyes held mine, endlessly calm against my sudden fury.

“Sultana, that belief is akin to building a fortress on a dune. Time will erode the foundations until it crumbles and buries you within its ruins.” It was an easy enough sentiment to hold in contempt, but his sincerity gave it an unwelcome resonance that dug straight through my anger and into my core.

The tension in my body started to melt away. Suddenly, I felt like crying. Not because of pain or fear, but something else. A new feeling. It was merciless in its compassion, began to sand off all my edges so thoroughly it hurt. It made me feel soft and helpless and drained the fight out of me.

I loathed everything about it.

So I clenched my teeth until my jaw hurt, and the feeling passed.

{CPU Load: ▼ 39%}

{Core Temp: ▼ 79° C}

{[Arx, Saint’s Embrace] IS NOW ACTIVE.}

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

My armor resealed itself as if invisible hands spun new fabric from frayed edges, covering holes and mending gashes.

“Be that as it may,” I began—words pressed between clenched teeth—but stopped to center myself. I inhaled deeply, worked my jaw. “Let me upgrade my CPU, then let’s get the people inside.”

Zephyro looked at me for a moment longer as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, he regarded the remnants of the rats, scratching his beard absent-mindedly. “I wonder, Sultana, why you didn’t mark the strongest Feral first. I know there must be a wisdom to it, but I am afraid I cannot decipher it without your guidance.”

I gave him a bland look. “I’ve been an executive manager, and I lead an entire country, Zephyro. I can tell when someone is trying to blow smoke up my ass.”

He did me the courtesy of looking sheepish but didn’t say another word until I raised an eyebrow.

“As you wish, Sultana.” He took a deep breath as if to steel his nerves, and then he said “You must pardon my bluntness, but the way you engaged these Ferals makes no sense. Could you not tell which one was the highest threat? Could you not tell which abilities it had? The ones with the most power you assaulted on your own, while marking the weakest ones for me to deal with. I can understand your desire to charge into battle, but imagine my anguish if something had happened to you! Imagine what would have happened to my people!”

I cut Zephyro off with a sharp gesture. “What was I supposed to do? Ask them for their I.D.? I woke up less than a day ago after who the fuck knows how many years. I don’t have your experience, and I certainly can’t tell how strong a digital rat is just by looking at it!”

“I- I thought… What about your network scanner, Sultana?” He had paled even more so than before.

“Where would I even get a network scanner? It’s not like I got a welcome package and a fruit basket when I got stuck in the laptop.”

“But… but Sultana…! The strength of your Essence is worthy of Jannah! How can you possess such awesome power and not have such basic tools at your disposal? I thought you…” he trailed off, face now positively ashen under the blood and grime.

My blood boiled over the small voice that tried to tell me something was wrong. I ignored it. There was nothing wrong. There couldn’t be. I had enough going on already, and I just wanted to…

The rope frayed. I laced it with more anger.

> Who is the wielder, and who is the tool, Sam?

The cycle continued.

A large part of me, the angry part, did not care. It just saw a burning city, a moon drowning in its own blood, glinting steel, and a panicked mob. A lot to track. A lot to keep in mind. A lot that could threaten my control.

Zephyro’s feelings, that part of me muttered, were the least of my problems.

But does he deserve this? Does he deserve that the woman he dedicated his life to is just walking over him?

> Who do you want to be, Sam?

Zephyro grimaced for a second, but then his shoulders slumped.

“Sultana, when you asked me for advice, in my foolishness I defaulted to telling you it is strength you need. If you would accept my thousand apologies, I fear I might have steered you wrong. I have come to realize that your Essence… ah, but I digress. Now, far be it from me to tell you what to do, but I would bare my heart and offer my current plight as a cautionary tale. Without humility, I can say that I am the strongest warrior in my Domain, and yet I can not defeat my foes because they are as the desert wind to my senses.

Of course, Sultana, blessed may you be, this is not to say that my star is anything but a candle to your blazing sun. By now, however, it is now obvious to me that the bulk of your Essence must be tied up in your holy power. You are missing basic tools that every ch— that every warrior in my Domain possesses. Just as one example of many, consider the ability to gauge your enemies’ strength. My advice would be for you to gain this skill with all haste, for in a Domain, not everything is as it seems, as you surely have learned by now.”

I rolled my eyes, but in a sudden moment of clarity, I realized he was right. I was basically blind, and there was danger everywhere, hiding in plain sight. I did as he asked and took Zephyro as an example. On one hand, he was strong, but couldn’t leverage his strengths because he was flying blind. On the other, however, was the part he hadn’t mentioned explicitly. He was far more dangerous than he seemed.

He looked like a man nearing the end of his prime, but I had seen him move carts twice his weight with a casual shove. Lords be damned, he’d sliced a mechanically augmented wolf the size of a van in half, using the actual moon like a paring knife.

I couldn’t be sure of anything in this world. I could, for example, come across a cute Persian cat with a crown, reach down to pet it, and the next I’d be dead, my face melted off by lasers it shot from its eyes, or something.

One moment, I’d be full of triumph, and the next, I’d lie there, features scorched black. Just like Stax—

My breathing turned shallow, and Pharus started to slip from my fingers.

I grabbed it tighter. The leather wrapped around the shaft creaked against the wood as I strangled my thoughts, laced that fraying rope with burning, hateful sinew.

That was the past. It was done. It didn’t matter. Only the future mattered.

My head snapped back up. The moon still illuminated the square in front of the palace, driving long shadows over the cracked mosaic and into the alleyways surrounding the plaza. A few more people had found shelter behind the gates, but many more remained. They depended on Zephyro to keep them safe. And Zephyro depended on me.

I looked at him and nodded.

It was all I could manage. I wanted to tell him thanks, wanted to apologize, but that red-hot-thread that ran through my psyche didn’t let me.

> Never apologize, Samantha. Don’t let the other party put you on the back foot. Keep pushing. Always push.

Huh. Marcus, the guy who’d taught me to negotiate. I hadn’t thought of him in ages. Hadn’t thought of Earth in ages. It was just too…

I pushed those thoughts deep back down where they belonged. No use crying over spilled milk, especially after all that time. I needed to be stable, for the Logic to do its job. The anger I had intertwined between my thoughts made that hard, but not impossible. I just needed to steer it away from the mindless destruction of flames and heat, and towards that seething, ice-cold precision that had borne me through so many battles.

I fell into it with practiced perfection, my mind as easy to mold as hot aluminum. Nothing mattered. Not the people screaming, not Zephyro standing beside me. Not the hot wind buffeting my face, or the scabs and wounds I’d suffered in the fight.

After shutting out the cacophony of the city collapsing around me, I centered my mind on the concepts of perception, vision, and awareness. I still needed a focus for the Logic, but the choice was obvious. Chris’ work always took my Wish the easiest. I inhaled deeply, balancing my thoughts. A brief memory of losing control lanced through my mind and for one heartbeat, my concentration faltered.

No. I could do this. I would do this. Only the future mattered.

I bent my thoughts back into shape, ignoring their groaning protests and the brittle crackling of ignored traumata.

Only the future.

I exhaled.