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[>>Now replaying: Log 3.16.8 - By Process of Elimination]

Date: Error

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

//This is the Hour of Lead – //

//It’s the scientific process. You kill off one possibility after the other, and the last one that remains must either be true or you are just not smart enough to find the truth.//

//They just lined them up, next to each other. Whoever confessed first and “repented” got to burn first. The others had to watch.//

[>>DATA CORRUPTED]

E2 %Of course they were. She was the Tyrant Divine.%

E1 %Actually, Pina is right in this case. They were afraid of her. No one had ever dared attack the Mage Lords, except for other Mage Lords, before the Emperor made them fall in line. This was where the Schism started. There were two groups, basically.%

Pharus flared in my grip, and the Ferals eyed me wearily.

Dreaming big had always been a big part of what made me successful. The parts were a healthy dose of caution, realism, ambition, and a penchant for making friends.

All of those had been taken from me at the gates of Veltruvia until I had discovered the strength that lay in unshackling my rage.

Now instead I had a relentless drive for revenge, that sweet calm of battle, and no more qualms about taking what I wanted, which was much better in some ways.

I didn’t even know why I’d ever let go of the anger.

> “Go ahead, Sam. Get angry. See where it gets you.”

>

> “Oh, I will!”

It had gotten me back to Novus Apex.

And to the lonely graves of my friends.

Why did I have to remember Chris leaving? Why wouldn’t these damn memories leave me alone? Why wouldn’t I accept that the choice had been the only one?

Why couldn’t I accept I was who I needed to be?

I gritted my teeth.

No, this time it would be different. I wouldn’t fail again.

I just needed more Logic, and more strength to defend myself. I’d be invincible.

For now, however, I should be strong enough to deal with some rats. I willed the thoughts back and gave in to the battle calm, and the rage, because deep down I knew that they were one and the same, and it felt good.

Familiar power thrummed in my every fiber, filling me with languid power. It began pulsing in my temples, made my fists clench…

It was obvious that the Ferals sensed it, too. Their weakness was written in the anxious twitches of their muscles, in the way they eyed each other, questioning, wary.

My grin widened. They were about to break. Just a little bit more, and they would turn and run. One step was all it would take. Stirred by a gust of wind, Pharus’ flames roared.

Yes… everything was coming back, just as I remembered from all those skirmishes and battles and wars. The Lords had put up a brave facade, marching their soldiers against me under their magical shields, armed with glowing swords and stolen rifles.

Until their courage splashed impotently against my armor.

Until the Torch’s scorching flames seared their morale apart.

Until they were no longer opponents to fight, just chattel to be processed.

> You’re losing your honor, Samantha. You have to remember what you stand for.

A four-story building collapsed at the edge of the plaza. Heat wafted over me. Someone yelled my name.

It didn’t matter.

I flared my Torch as I walked forward. When the first rat twitched back, turning to flee, it was like a gunshot starting a race. My legs pumped beneath me in a mad staccato, and despite its initial advantage, the distance between me and the Feral shrunk rapidly. In that glorious, fear-free state of mind, nothing else mattered. Not the crowd, scattering as we approached, not Zephyro, not the other two Ferals who thought they could use my focus to attack me from behind. They couldn’t stop me. No one could. My vision narrowed, centered on my fleeing prey. Something slammed into my ankle but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the fight.

Before I knew it, I had cornered the beast, driven it all the way through the crowd and against the Palace wall. I yelled my impending victory, and it echoed across the Plaza. The rat screeched, frozen in fear. Perhaps it had only played at being afraid to make me overextend myself, but this was real. I could feel it. My heartbeat hammered in my ears as I crossed the last few meters, Pharus ready to attack.

Then the beast was in range.

One strike was all it took.

Bone crunched, repugnant black-green blood erupted from wound, eyes, and snout alike.

The squealing died off, and Logic streamed from the corpse.

I laughed as I took its Logic.

{INCOMING LOGIC - 60 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 430 LB}

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

My laugh got stuck in my throat as the remaining two beasts slammed into my back in rapid succession, pushing me forward and pulling my attention back down to reality. I stumbled until I crashed against the palace wall, and my rage spiked.

{CPU Load: ▲ 69%}

{Core Temp: ▲ 74° C}

How dared they?

I pushed myself off and spun. Pharus became a blur. The Ferals ducked back and the attack went wide. Fire trailing from the torch illuminated the fear in the rodents’ eyes, but that was not nearly enough. I needed them to die, so that I could be safe.

> Put your anger into your strikes, Sam.

I raised the torch up high.

> You are in control…

My entire arm trembled. With excitement, I told myself.

Uncertainty and exhaustion… whispered that weak voice I tried hard to ignore.

I reached for my Wish, gathered as much of it as I could, and with an angry cry, I pushed it into my weapon.

> … don’t let your anger take that from you, or you will become nothing more than its tool.

Stax’s warning, surfacing like a corpse in a pond, came too late. As the Logic inexorably rushed from my heart up my arm and into Pharus, his words, so well-intentioned at the time, became warped and twisted. They taunted me, a stark reminder of my failure.

{CONSUMED LOGIC - 90 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 340 LB}

{[Pharus, Wrath of the Torchbearer] v.06

IS NOW {[Pharus, Wrath of the Torchbearer] v.091

I grimaced as the Logic arced up the scepter. It shaped itself like bolts of cyan energy, their power making the weapon tremble as it advanced.

The spikes adorning the firecage lengthened, arching slightly upwards into a wicked curve. There was a pause in the change, and I prayed that was it, but the Logic kept pouring out of me.

The vibrations grew so intense I had to let go of the handle, but instead of dropping, the weapon floated at head height, twitching and sparking with barely restrained power.

Like a woman before a scream, Pharus stilled, and with it the entire world.

Then it advanced.

{CONSUMED LOGIC - 300 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 40 LB}

{[Pharus, Wrath of the Torchbearer] v.06

IS NOW {[Pharus, Fury of the Torchbearer] v. 1.0

{Reign.}

A Bell tolled from my core, blasting the square with a sound so powerful that it shook stones out of the mosaic, blasted the rats backward for dozens of meters, broke doors from their hinges, and ran a crack through the length of the marble arch. With a grinding sound that drowned out everything else, a fragment of the magnificent building began sliding away as my weapon began its transformation into the next version of itself.

The head, still blazing, came free of the handle, which shortened considerably. In the meantime, the flaming cage that made up the top of the torch grew up and together until it completely enveloped the flame. The fire roared, dark blue tendrils licking at the bars of its new prison as if angry at its incarceration. Then, a long chain connected cage and handle, and the weapon slammed back into my palm, ready for violence. At the very same moment, the undone fragment of the broken arch crashed into an adjacent building with earth-shattering finality, ending the moment of rapt stasis that had held the battlefield in its grasp.

I didn’t care, my pulse still hammering a steady rhythm in my ears, snuffing out everything but the weapon thrumming in my hand. My wrist shifted, and the chain lengthened, letting the censer fall to the ground where the flames licked at the broken stone.

I watched the weapon scorch the marble, one part of me terrified, another fascinated.

The former part pleaded with me to realize what I was doing. To stop. To rest. It warned me that if I kept letting my rage rule my actions, it would soon rule me completely.

The latter urged me to keep going, to do what was necessary.

It pronounced power to my anger, and whispered safety to my fear.

It coaxed my worries with the promise of unending confidence.

It gently pulled me into its suffocatingly hot, neverending embrace…

I could be invincible, untouchable, uncaring it said, setting my nerves crackling.

> Maybe, Sam. But who do you want to be?

With Patti’s question, the world slowed. I’d never given her an answer. Only told her who I didn’t want to be.

If the Logic behaved like the Wish, it shaped objects through the lens of who I was. Pharus’ fire blackened the stone, as it lay on the floor, lifeless, wrapped in a spiked cage, chained and distant from its handle.

Was that really who I was? If I could see myself right now, would I like what I saw?

The drumbeat of my pulse calmed, and a cacophony of sounds rushed in to fill the void. There were cries of pain and fear. Ferals screeched. Zephyro was yelling my name, over and over.

My vision expanded from the pinprick attention of battle to wide-eyed horror. All around me, buildings had collapsed. The mosaic was completely ruined. The rats, blasted away by my Wish, had landed in the middle of the civilians and gleefully leaped at the chance to eat their fill.

I wanted to move, to help, but the memories didn’t stop coming. My thoughts kept going in circles, trapping me more efficiently than any magic the Queen of Hearts and Minds could have dreamed up.

The Ferals sunk their rotten teeth into both hands of a young woman, one on each side, and they pulled her deeper into the panicking crowd and out of sight and…

> “Look, Torchbearer! Look at your city! This is all you have wrought. Fire and ash, a hellish gloom devouring the light. Is this the progress you promised us? Or is that just the price?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I only wanted…”

> “Ah-ha! So you admit it! You are nothing but a demon, sent from the thirteen hells to lead our people astray!”

“No, I…”

> “Sam! Oh fuck, Sam, they took the gate and the armory. They have the rifles, Sam. They have the rifles! The fucking rifles you insisted on stockpiling!”

“But…”

The woman screamed once more, and my head snapped up. Something ruptured wetly, abruptly cutting her off.

Logic flashed in the crowd, its bright cyan glow letting long shadows erupt away from the feet of distressed townsfolk.

I’d failed again, because I was too timid. Too weak.

The single, rage-fueled fiber that remained of my confidence creaked under the strain.

> Who do you want to be, Sam?

“I don’t know!” I said. Probably out loud. Maybe. I’d never answered her question. “…but not this.”

I was reeling, about to break again. The anger was only a thin veneer, but it was all I had left. I needed to keep going. Even if there would be a high cost to pay.

My eyes darted over the plaza, trying to find purchase for my focus, respite for my battered mind, and help for the people behind me. Finally, I spotted Zephyro in front of a pile of rubble, trying to help his people. Even from a distance, it was obvious he was in a rough spot. His clothes had partially rotted away, rust covered large patches of his armor, and his combat vest, pristine just minutes earlier, sported several rips and tears.

What could do that to his armor? Had he been caught in the explosion? No, that wouldn’t explain the rust and the rot. The coyote I remembered from earlier would fit the bill, but I didn’t see it anywhere. Perhaps Zephyro had killed it already?

The Vizier had pushed his hands underneath a large slab of stone. It had been a wall of a house or a store, and Zephyro was trying to lift it up. A few of his people were attempting to help, shouting frantically as they tried to move the debris.

Behind me, the crowd shrieked in fear. With their Vizier tied up at the other side of the square, there was no one to help them.

No one but me.

I grimaced, pushed down my doubts, and started moving.

I might not know who I wanted to be, but I wouldn’t be a person who stood by while people screamed for help.