{Loading…}
{Loaded.}
[Now replaying: Log 3.19 - Executrix]
Date: Error
Location: The Bunker at Progress’ Head // Zephyro’s Domain
//Ideas are easy. Execution is everything.
//instruction cycle (also known as the fetch–decode–execute cycle, or simply the fetch-execute cycle) is the cycle that the central processing unit (CPU) follows from boot-up untilö73%//
[>>DATA CORRUPTED]
“Let’s kill it, then,” I said, watching the undulating wall of flesh and metal shift. “Chris, how much would all of that cost?”
[SAINTECH Alpha 4 1800X 1-Core Processor: REQUIRES 60 LB]
[SAINTECH Alpha 8 2000X 1-Core Processor}: REQUIRES 90 LB]
[SAINTECH Beta 1 1200X 2-Core Processor}: REQUIRES 300 LB]
[SUM: 450 LB]
[TOTAL SUM: 450 LB]
[SAINTECH DPM v.9//Samantha_v1:]
[Digital Personality Matrix partially corrupted. (62% integrity.]
[Would you like to repair “Samantha_v1”?]
[Requires 65 LB]
[Sum: 65 LB]
[Total Sum: 515 LB]
[remote_access_array_alpha_001.exe]
[No viable upgrades found.]
[Manual Upgrade Required.]
{//You may be less alone//300}
{//than you think, Sam.//LB}
[Sum: UNAV{300 LB}BLE]
[Total Sum: 815 LB]
{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 498 LB}
[Difference: -317]
“Damn,” I muttered as I struggled through the headache and added everything together, arriving at a kingly 815.
Besides the flickering screams of the Ferals, the darkness had come closer at a steady pace, and licking at the edges of the parade grounds. Disturbingly, while the void slowly proceeded to bathe the Feral abomination in shadow, its mouths and eyes remained visible, staring out of the dark, occasionally glimmering red and blue, betraying it’s true size.
“I don’t want to rush you or anything, but we’re cutting it kinda close,” Shellslinger said, eying the pathways to the plaza.
I clenched my jaw, struggling to not let my anger escape. I had a feeling I would need it soon.
“Well, I’m short 150-something Logic, after the stunt you pulled with the loot. Otherwise, I would already have your friends here, and perhaps even healed myself to full.”
He laughed. “Yeah that’s a good one. What were you going to do? Trade in the loot for gold and then just buy a teleportation scroll? Or were you just going to craft it out of Logic itself?”
My eyebrow twitched, and I took a deep breath. I thought of power and wiping that Arrogant smirk off his face and—
Oh Sam… Is that who you want to be?
I exhaled, breath stuttering as Patti’s face flashed in my mind, endlessly forgiving, endlessly kind.
{CONSUMED LOGIC - 60 LB}
{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 428 LB}
{SAINTECH Alpha 2 1400X 1-Core Processor (Tier 0, MID)
IS NOW
SAINTECH Alpha 4 1800X 1-Core Processor (Tier 0, HIGH)}
The bell sounded clear this time, powerful and radiant, but there was something dissonant about its reverb, as if it couldn’t decide what sound to send into the world.
“Huh.” Shellslinger blinked, nodding in approval like I’d just downed three shots at once at an afterwork. “Okay, I take that back. You can actually craft stuff out of Logic. Man, that’s broken.”
Then he lowered his voice to a whisper he thought we couldn’t hear. “You do realize this means war, Francois? No. You definitely could have told me she can do that. You’re never getting out of that sheath ever again.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Zephyro and I looked at each other, but while we silently agreed to not talk about the insane elf’s monologue, there was a hint of reproach in his eyes.
“Sultana, while you are as wise as the sun is bright, shouldn’t we have stopped and considered how to best spend your Blessing?”
My frown deepened. “There’s nothing to discuss here. I was reaching the limit of my CPU, and the array needs a ton of CPU. So, I get a better CPU, kill some more Ferals, and then I upgrade the array.”
“That, as all things you say, is true, Sultana, but shouldn’t you spend your essence on summoning the Old Guard, then retreat to the palace while they fight?”
My jaw set. Zephyro shifted uncomfortably, hands raised, but I was already invading his personal space, finger on his chest. “Don’t you fucking dare start this shit again, Zephyro. If I don’t get the upgrade, my CPU will get so hot, I’ll be dead in the water!”
I took another step forward, driving him back with the softest touch of my finger and the full might of my fury.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? Has been from the beginning.”
Still, his eyes were so damn deep and caring. Only compassion and calm, not a single sign of anger.
As if he understood.
Our western flank, Saint Samantha!! They have berserkers, and they’re breaking through!
The gall!
The shriek of boosters engaging, breaking me free from the mud that clutches my powered boots
“Did you think I’d sit in your fortress, safe and sound?”
It’s the Torchbearer! Oh gods have mercy, it’s her! She’s here!
“Just twiddling my thumbs on the throne?”
We have drawn her out! Hold fast, men! Hold her as long as you can!
“Perhaps you’d like me to get rid of my armor, too? Wrap myself in soft silks you would so kindly provide?”
The powershielding on my armor yawns to life, casually deflecting countless projectiles as it rises from its slumber, breaking its fast on swords and axes.
“All the while you are out here, risking your life. Playing my strong protector?”
Fuck, Sam, why are you out here? Who’s in charge while you’re gone? I don’t like this at all, they have… oh fuck. SAM, GET DOWN!
“Fighting, killing, getting stronger and stronger, taking the Logic, taking my Logic, keeping me weak and dependent?”
Ash all around me, warning icons flashing in my helmet, soot covering my torch. Stax’s armor, halfway molten and merged with his flesh despite the thermic substrata shielding. His eyes, so deep, so blue, still dancing despite the pain.
She’s still alive! Fire! Fire for all you’re worth, this is where the demon dies!
“No, Zephyro.”
…who is the wielder, and who is the tool, Sam?
“Sultana, you are making a mistake, I just—“
Stax’s body twitches as thousands of arrows descend upon us like a funeral shroud.
“I SAID NO!”
{CONSUMED LOGIC - 90 LB}
{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 348 LB}
{SAINTECH Alpha 4 1800X 1-Core Processor (Tier 0, HIGH)
IS NOW
SAINTECH Alpha 8 2000X 1-Core Processor} (Tier 0, PRO)}
If the bell sounded warbled and insecure before, now it stormed through the plaza with furious determination. Just a short, concentrated blast of sound that made Zephyro stagger and Shellslinger cover his face to protect himself from flying debris.
Up in the endless night skies, countless mouths moaned their desire, and wide-tongued eyes twitched with rapacious bliss.
Then the Ferals came.
Their eyes gleamed red in blind windows, their paws treaded whispers on broken cobbles. Their deformed bodies leaned over crumbling balustrades, and their laughing shadows snuck through defeated arches. They were few, then they were many, then they poured out of dead ends and into the battlefield, legion.
I grasped Pharus, my fingers flexing on the hilt. My anger told me I could take them. It caressed my face until my cheeks burned hot, purring that I was powerful enough.
I tilted my head at the oncoming horde, and noticed something odd, like a strange aftertaste in your water. Yes, I wasn’t imagining it. The paws hitting the ground, the snarling muzzles, the electricity… everything had gotten just a little bit slower.
Or perhaps, I had just gotten a little bit faster.
{CPU Load: ▼ 37%}
{Core Temp: ▼ 79° C}
[>>Currently connected array endpoints:
1) Shellslinger (15% CPU load)]
“Please, Sultana,” Zephyro said, and I realized I was still standing in front of him, staring over his shoulder, finger on his chest, radiating that itch to fight.
I stepped back, and felt like smirking, so I did.
“Even I —who is blind to their presence—know that the Ferals are coming, and that they are too many.”
To his left, the Old Guard joined him, rifle in hand, aiming behind the vizier and taking raven-powered potshots at the approaching tide.
“He’s right,” the Old Guard said between screeching blasts. “This is definitely a raid for 20 to 40 people, and we don’t even have a tank or a healer.”
I turned on him, tilting my head, lopsided smirk on my lips. “You only want the Logic.”
He shrugged, aimed, fired, then aimed again. “I mean, doesn’t everyone? You know my terms. One item from the boss for you, all others for the guild, all other drops shared equally according to group size. I think that’s fair, given the circumstances.”
“That’s extortion!” I hissed, smirk vanishing.
“Hey look, I didn’t aggro the boss, that was all you. Now we got the enrage timer going so you better make a choice.”
“Sultana, please…” Zephyro said again, calm and collected as always. Despite everything, he was still smiling, as if he knew something about me that convinced him I was actually worth all the bootlicking, as if I didn’t ruin everything, wouldn’t ruin him, too.
It would be so easy to prove him wrong, unthinkable to prove him right.
Who do you want to be, Sam?
I don’t know, Patti.
I don’t know.
The elf cursed, and something moved behind Zephyro, large and slick and dangerous. My instinct blissfully saved me from further thought.
With a roar, I pushed Zephyro out of the way and sent Pharus flying through the air faster than ever before. The chain cut through the air like a sickle cuts through the night, and the censer impacted a tall humanoid figure made of oil, looming inside a swarm of spiders and rats. The fire from my censer spread immediately, setting the creature ablaze.
It howled a unwound-cassette plea, but did not stop its shambling advance.
The Shellslinger didn’t waste a second, falling to one knee and aiming, then sending a raven straight into the shape’s chest. The projectile didn’t explode in a puff like I was expecting, but instead formed a swirling black hole that drew all creates in a wide radius off its feat, swirling them around its center.
“Hit it!” the Guard yelled, and Zephyro raised his sword, bringing it down in one mighty swing. It extended into a giant sickle, gleaming moonlight-white, and slowed dramatically the larger it got. As it reached its impact point, cold fire spread from its edge, building in intensity for a breathless moment. Then the edge touched a creature spinning inside the black hole, and the world went white.
I staggered backwards, closing my eyes.
So loud. So bright. Only Stax’s blue eyes remain, dancing in a white void to a sound only he can hear.
Our combined attack had left the area around the black hole completely devastated, bathed in Logic, and bare of enemies.
Panting, I looked up, expecting arrows to rain down any second.
Something warm and dusty pressed against my back.
“Sultana?”
I had thrown myself in front of the Vizier.
Something landed on my shoulder, as light and hesitant as a bird. I jerked away. Zephyro’s hand, I realized.
“Do we have a deal?” I heard the elf say.
I nodded slowly, eyes not leaving the crater. A whine built in my ear, and I barely registered that the Old Guard said something else. When I didn’t answer, he scooped up his share of the loot. He might have even left me more than usual, but I didn’t care.
Without a further word, the two men fell into a sprint, heading for the edge of the crater we had wrought. The Ferals were already pouring in again, like dark water into an empty bowl. They had begun to feast on the remnants of their fallen brothers, desperately funneling any Logic they could find to their chthonic master.
I only had eyes for the crater. The moon shone above, bathing it in red and white.
As I return, I find red speckles on white fletching, as if poppies grew amidst countless lilies covering the crater.
My anger urged me to keep going, to fight, to get the Logic, to survive, but it was a distant buzzing now. I just wanted to lie in that crater and somehow make the past right.
The song is over, just crows left, cawing for an encore.
Stax’s eyes have stopped dancing.