I sit there waiting, not sure if they're talking or not, but also not willing to interrupt if they are.
“I.. have agreed to speak for Silo in this circumstance. He says as follows: “Hello Brooke, congratulations on saving the city where I couldn’t. Your performance was both incredible and encouraging, and I am unbelievably pleased to be the first to witness your not-so-humble beginnings as a Vanguard.
I apologize for the harm and trouble I gave you during our interactions and hope with this we can call it even.”
Silo opens his palm and his bow appears within his grasp, though the flash of sparks doesn't fade immediately this time. The weapon folds in upon itself, morphing into a perfect octahedron and its purple color drains away into a pure white.
He encloses it within his shaking fist and tries to guide my hand up to it. Feeling his hand under mine I can tell he won't have the strength to lift it, so I move with his hand until it rests under the clenched fist. Gently he drops the item in my palm and closes my fingers around it, his arms dropping heavily afterward as Roosevelt continues:
“I named this weapon Tactigon after a comic book I liked as a kid, but you can name it whatever you want. It's been my weapon since the start of my Vanguard career, and now it's going to be the start of yours.
Take care of it and it’ll take care of you. As for your reward for saving the people of this city, and restoring my ability to die a human: I, rank three Vanguard Silo officially name you the inheritor of my last will and testament, notarized by the sub-spawn of the Great Old One 'Cthulhu the Dreamer’: R'oceveilt.
I don’t have all that much, but every little bit should help you down this path. To say I’m impressed with you would be an understatement, keep up the good work.
And you Roosevelt, yes of course I want you to keep translating- don’t interrupt me I’m literally dying.
You’ve gone far farther than our contract ever entailed, and to me, you’re far more than a source of power or an assistant. You’ve been a great friend to me Roosevelt, and if I had it my way I’d never give up our journey together, but the great dream calls me and you’ve got yourself a new punk to watch.
I don't need to tell you to take care of the newbie, you stuck around with this dead man till the very end, Velt. You’re a true pal and I couldn’t have asked for more. Goodbye, my friend, and I’m proud of you Brooke. You did good, kid.”
Roosevelt stopped speaking, and I could tell it was just in time. The choked sobs I heard from my own body echoed the same emotions I felt from him inside my head.
“You did good t-t-too, Silo. I don't think anyone else could have restrained themselves while under control the way you did. You saved those people just as much as I.” I choked out.
I could see the sides of his mouth quirk up past the blood as he closed his eye and laid back his head. I couldn’t stop the sobbing this time, any restraint I had before slipping away as I bawled at the feet of a dead man I had known for all of twenty minutes. I clutched the item he gave me, its sharp corners poking my still-raw palms.
“This bastard,” Roosevelt muttered in my head.
I looked up sniffling, confused at his annoyance.
“He’s not even dead yet, he just wanted to act as if he died at the end of that for effect. No, I absolutely will not stop ruining this for you, it is so unbelievably like you to waste your last seconds being a drama queen. Ridiculous. Now, look here you- …Ah.” Roosevelt cut off.
Not sure whether to be angry or upset about the grinning dead man laying in front of me I bark out a laugh and flop back on the ground. Exhaustion takes me as soon as I close my eyes.
----------------------------------------
Consciousness comes to me with the usual symptoms: gunked-up eyes, a dry mouth, and my left arm somehow beneath me.
Working to fix the first and last issue I bring my left hand up to rub my eyes, my efforts gradually revealing my surroundings. My first impression is that I’m in a hospital, but quickly I started noticing oddities that make me doubt my initial claim.
The walls look to be solid slabs of white marble, though the crack-shaped patterns throughout them glow with an ethereal ocean green. On either end of my outrageously soft bed, two floating rings spin slowly, both their use and defiance of gravity completely beyond my understanding.
I sit up, the room spinning a little as my blood starts flowing properly. The IV needle in my arm tugs lightly on me and the mechanical arm holding the bag follows my movement as I slide my legs off the side of the bed.
I don’t see any doors around, but one of the walls looks to be a horizontally bowed window, metal plates layering along the outside of it like an armored shutter. I pull the needle out of my arm with a wince, not really sure if it's a good idea but needing to move around regardless.
“Window, open,” I say, and am delighted as the shutter slides upwards at my voice.
The entire wall opens up brightly and I see a breathtaking view of the city from above, the protruding window enabling me to see directly downwards to the streets below. I see a few demolished buildings amongst the spiraling conch shell beach of our city, the smoke is already gone and construction crews bringing in the materials for a new one.
“Hey Roosevelt, you there?” I speak to the open air, praying I’m not just talking to myself.
“Yes, Brooke. I wanted to give you a few minutes to orient yourself after waking. This is the medical branch of Barbeau City’s Vanguard hive. I have informed the personnel here of your condition and status as a new Vanguard, though I left out all personal information and what occurred regarding your involvement.”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Ah, thanks. That makes sense. I’m not sure if I want to be known as a Vanguard just yet so some privacy is probably smart. I don’t even have a proper ascension or whatever it was called yet.”
“About that, it’s been a couple of days and your body is in nearly good enough shape to retry that. I’m not sure if there will be any complications considering the… ‘issues’ involved in your previous pseudo-Ascension, though this is undoubtedly the safest place to find out.
Until then, you are absolutely in good enough health to summon my corporeal form! So far I’ve been restricted to residing in your psyche, and have been unable to assist with much more than moral support.”
“You’ve been stuck in my psyche? Oh god, I literally can't think of a worse place to be. I'm so sorry.” I apologize. “And how would I go about that? I didn’t even know you had a non-brain form.”
“Actually, it's a rather nice place to be, Brooke. You are uncharacteristically empathetic and your self-depreciation is something we can work on together. As for the summon, you’ll need to use your chthonic energy. Do you feel that slight tingle along your bones?”
I focus inward for a moment, both trying to avoid his compliment and searching for the feeling he described. At first, I don't notice anything different, though my body definitely feels lighter and stronger than before.
Considering for a moment, I try to use my new strength to clench my fist and unclench it rapidly and immediately I notice it. All along my finger bones, there's a subtle buzzing, a completely ignorable hum that I trace from the bones in my arm to the rest of my body.
My mouth cracks a smile before I know it and I sprint from one side of the room to the other, the buzzing increasing as I exert myself further.
“I’ve never felt so fast in my life, I feel superhuman.” I pant, probably not supposed to be this active after a hospital stay.
“Though didn’t you say it's only along your bones? The tingles are strongest along them, but I definitely feel it elsewhere. Now that I recognize it I can sense the feeling all over my body, but it doesn’t stay in the same spot for long. What's with that?”
“You’re certain? The feeling should be exclusive to your bones considering that's where our contract is written. If you have chthonic energy circulating through your entire body then that might have some concerning implications.
Only natural-born eldritch like myself should experience anything of the sort, our bodies are made up of a different type of matter from the rest of the world. I’ve never heard of anything like it so it could be entirely benign in nature but we can’t know for sure.
I’ll have the resident nurse run a few more checks on you when she returns if that's alright.”
I pause from trying to feel for the energy passing through me, his words bringing a tinge of alarm to my good mood. According to Roosevelt, my Ascension was atypical in every sense of the word. I could honestly leave it at that and assume that my current physical state is an amalgamation of exceptions, but I had a hunch.
The eldritch that kidnapped me had the ability to transform humans and Vanguards into custom variations of Fathom, which must mean it had a method to transfer the matter of our reality with that of the Old Ones.
“Could it be that the pod thing I was in, the fleshy flower one, still managed to transform me? If my uh... Cthulonic energy is similar to the way your body works then could I technically be an eldritch now too?” I ask, less worried than I probably should be.
“Chthonic. And well, that part’s a bit complicated. I won’t deny you outright, but Vanguard contracts are restricted to the bones for a reason. More invasive contracts have been attempted but the human psyche does not play particularly well with unfathomable power.
It’s certainly possible that you’ve become one of us, however, that would entail either a complete rewrite of your mind or you are casually resisting something that eroded Vanguard Silo over a series of hours. Unless these seem to be reflections of your current condition I believe your humanity to be relatively safe.”
I chew on that for a bit, having a hard time arguing with his points but feeling in my gut that I’m onto something. I decide to leave it for another time, my brain still far too sore to really consider things properly.
“Sorry, we sidetracked a bit. You were teaching me how to summon your physical self?”
“Yes! I didn’t want to disturb your train of thought, but it should be a rather swift process. That said, considering this your first time summoning me it will take a bit more conscious thought, and successive attempts will be almost an afterthought. Sit on the bed and cross your legs.”
I listen to his direction, reseating myself on the stupidly soft bed, my crossed legs and bottom sinking into it snugly.
“Breathe deeply, in through your mouth and out through your nose. The calmer you are for this the less likely you are to break concentration.”
Slowing my breathing, I do my best to get lost in the individual inhales and exhales, my overactive mind making it difficult. Which is entirely fair! Telling me not to get excited when I’m literally doing magic is insane.
“While valiant, your attempts at tranquility seem fitful at best. Fortunately for you, this ritual has no harmful effects upon making a mistake. If it does not go to plan it will simply serve as practice and a lesson. Close your eyes and repeat after me: “c' mgr'luh, c' ah'bthnk, ph'nglui ch'nglui'ahog ehyee”.”
My eyelids feel heavy, and I let them fall. My body knows what to do, understands it even, and always has. I taste the words on my tongue before I say them, a flavor I remember but could never describe. My lips part and I declare to the world:
“c' mgr'luh, c' ah'bthnk, ph'nglui ch'nglui'ahog ehyee.”
Immediately I feel the difference, I haven’t moved whatsoever though I know I am someplace else. My eyes open and I stare into an uncaring universe, every direction a canvas of speckled stars and immutable dark.
The only feature of note is a pane of glowing glass, the reflection within as clear as a mirror despite its translucence. My eyes are glowing orbs and I see the symbols on my bones light up through my skin.
“Watch your reflection and consider me. Think about everything you’ve learned about me, my voice, my personality, and even my words to you right now. Focus on them, and connect them to your reflection.”
His instruction helps me focus but I’m already in the process of collecting my thoughts. All of our various interactions and his vibrant emotions rise to the forefront of my mind, little pieces of clay that I squeeze together to link with my other self.
I raise a hand to the mirror, my reflection connecting the tips of its fingers to mine as I feel the memories link. My reflection smiles and she speaks to me.
“Fantastic work, Brooke. The ritual has been completed and we may return to your physical body. Close your eyes once more and release.”
Almost reluctantly, I abandon this perfect reality as I close my eyes. My mind lets go of something I didn’t know I was grasping and the world returns to normalcy once again, vertigo overtaking me.
“Ugh, I didn’t know magic would make me feel like I wasn’t me anymore. Everything felt so distant and unimportant, are all rituals like that?” I ask with a grimace.
“Well, no. But most of them do.” I hear, but from distinctly outside of my head this time.