Zhu had not been exaggerating when he said he would treat Shrike as his shadow. The pseudowyrm expected her to always be within arm’s reach, unless she needed to sleep or tend to some other biological need. It was absolutely stifling. As if that weren't bad enough, many of his deranged henchmen envied her.
They never said anything, but would shoot her dirty looks whenever they thought Zhu wasn’t paying attention. An especially snippy garja tripped her with his tail as she passed by. This hostility was not lost on Zhu.
“Looks like you're unpopular as ever.”
“Fuck you.”
Shrike froze when something cold and sharp tickled her chin.
“Shall I slay this savage for her impertinence, lord?” a carakhan asked, her eyes as cold and hard as the scimitar she brandished.
Zhulong slapped the sword out of the bird’s hand. “I am a big boy. I can handle a bit of sass from my squire.”
The carakhan bowed. “Apologies lord.”
“It’s no biggie.” Zhu may have wanted to leave it at that, but Shrike was hardly content with this minor chastisement. She swaggered up to the zealot, not caring that she was barely eye level with her chest.
“That is the first and last time you pull a weapon on me,” Shrike growled. The carakhan’s eyes flicked towards Zhu. When the pseudowyrm didn’t speak on the zeraph’s behalf, she returned the glare.
“You will make no demands of me. The archduke may want you alive and unharmed, but you’re not entitled to any respect.”
“And I don’t need Zhulong’s authority to make you regret threatening me. Do it again and I’ll kill you.”
The carakhan’s jaw dropped. She threw her head back and let out a harsh cackle. Several zealots and mercenaries listening in on the exchange joined in.
“The only way you could kill me is if I choked on your boney flesh. Know this tribal, if the archduke allowed it, I would cut you down with a single stroke and add your pretty red scalp to my collection. The carakhan’s bony fingers directed Shrike's eyes towards the grisly trophies hanging from her belt.
Shrike spat at her feet. “Talk is cheap! If you’re so confident about your skill, let’s settle this with steel!”
The carakhan’s head snapped towards Zhu. “Will you permit such a thing, lord?”
Zhu shrugged. “Eh, if you guys are really that gungho about it, we could set up some sort of non-lethal bout.”
“Very well. I will accept this duel.” The carakhan squawked. “When will this event take place, lord?”
“If we’re going to do this, we might as well make a show out of it. Everyone is bored out of their minds. Let’s try to set this shindig up a week from now on.”
The carakhan saluted. “Thank you, lord. I will make sure to put this zeraph in her place,” she smirked at Shrike. “I will see you then.”
Zhulong shook his head and laughed as they walked away from the gossiping zealots and mercenaries. “Here I thought you were the sensible one. Turns out you might be dumber than me.”
Shrike looked at him sharply. “Was I supposed to let that damn bird off the hook for pressing a blade against my throat?”
“That would have been the smart thing to do since she's five times your size. But whatever, the milk has been spilled. Just try to avoid ticking off the mercs and slaves. Some of them are probably already itching to knife you in their sleep just to spite me.”
The mention of slaves brought his emancipation plan to the forefront of Shrike’s mind. “When are you planning to make your announcement?”
“No idea. Sarin still hasn’t given me the go-ahead yet.”
Shrike frowned. “Aren’t you the leader? Why is she the one that gets to decide when?”
Zhu shrugged. “It's is a complicated process, and she’s a smart cookie. Would be stupid of me not to take her advice. But make no mistake, girl, I am the big cheese, not her,” he said with a chest thump.
“Well, the way I see it, you might rule over this city, but she’s in control of you.”
Zhu slammed his fists together in faux outrage. “Bitch, please. I am the top dog mother fucker! Ain’t nobody gonna control me like some beta bitch puppet king, not when I radiate such alpha energy!”
Zhu suddenly let out a high-pitched squeak. Face flushed at the sound of Shrike’s raucous mirth, the pseudowyrm rubbed his rear and bashfully turned around.
“Wh-what’s up, Arnei?”
The lamia placed her hands on her hips and scowled at the devourer. Her intense stare grew colder when Zhu refused to meet it. She grabbed his snout and yanked it towards her face.
“The meek cherry boy act was cute at first, but it’s getting old. What’s gotten into you recently?”
“Like I said, I gotta avoid skin contact for a while. Don’t want to infect you with anything.”
“Cut the crap. I watched you scrub your pretty blue ass in a tub of boiling water the past few nights—“
“You what?”
She ignored his interruption. “Whatever germs you might have been carrying are dead and you know it. You certainly don’t seem to have any issues bumping shoulders with that girl over there. What’s your relationship with her anyway?”
“Just his squire,” Shrike quickly assured the towering lamia.
“Good. I still need answers though, so spill.”
Zhu opened and closed his jaws like a fish out of water. Eventually, his stammers and stutters coalesced into one intelligible sentence. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
Arnei sighed. “You have no idea how happy I was when I found out you could understand us now. There were so many things I wanted to speak to you about.” She pursed her lips. “Guess I’ll just have to wait longer, huh?” She released his face. “At the very least, you should talk with Velvet. She’s convinced that you hate us now and has been crying her eyes out the past few rotations.”
“What? Why would she think that?”
“Maybe because you’ve been treating us like dysentery patients!” Arnei shouted. She took a deep breath. “I know things have been stressful lately, so I am going to go easy on you this time and give you space until you get over whatever is eating you.”
“Thanks.”
Arnei clamped his mouth shut. “I’m not finished. I expect you to open up to me in the future and don’t think for a second that I am letting this slide. The next time I get you in my bed, I am going to ride you until your hips break.”
That got a guffaw out of Zhu. “Holy hell, you’re ridiculous.”
Arnei smirked. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it, bitch. You’re the one that made me this way, after all.”
His expression fell. “Yeah, I did. I’ll check on Velvet soon,” The moment Arnei was out of sight, Zhu bolted to his chambers. He locked the door and paced in a circle.
“What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you?”
There was a knock on the door a few minutes later.
“Come back later. I am trying to sort out an….issue.”
“Pardon me, archduke, but I too am dealing with a very urgent issue,” Shrike stated, her voice dripping with resentment. “Please let me in.”
Zhu poked his head outside. “What is—oh.” Two spear blades dug into the zeraph’s back. The garja soldiers behind her saluted him.
“Good day, lord. We found your squire wandering about on her own. As per your orders, we have escorted her back to your side.”
“Ah, good job. You didn’t hurt her, did you?”
“She did not give us cause to do so, lord.”
“Yeah, I bet. Just ease up a bit next time. Jabbing her with spears is a tad excessive.”
“A tad excessive?” Shrike snarled once the erythrosuchids departed.
“Can we talk about this later?”
“No, I am sick of being stitched to your hip! I’m not going to leak any of your secrets, so would you tell your goons to leave me alone already?”
“Goons, huh? That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think? We're surrounded by thousands of hardened killers that carve out hearts like they're god damned pumpkin seeds! So forgive me if I am a bit paranoid!”
“What difference does it make if they find out that you used to be human? You're always acting like an utter buffoon, but that doesn’t stop them from kissing the ground you’ve touched!”
“It’s not just the synths and zealots I am worried about! When this was all just a game, I kept the mercs and thralls in line with Vlad the Impaler kind of shit. If they realize I don’t have the nerve to do that stuff in real life, they’ll put my head on a pike! Fuck, I am not sure if I even have the balls to kill them!”
Shrike raised an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t think so?”
“I don’t know! For the longest time I was pretty damned confident I could pull the most heinous shit without losing sleep, but whenever I look at Arnei and the other girls, I get this gross feeling in my belly.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“It’s called guilt.”
Zhu let out a humorless laugh. “I haven’t felt guilt in years! I am a fucking bastard that watched people die when I was bored! I didn’t feel anything when I murked those werewolves or tortured NPCs! So why do I want to hide my face whenever I see them or even think about them? Are they my one weakness—or was I just a poser this entire time? If I start killing people will I end up like those pussy ass shellshocked war vets that wake up screaming every night?” He snapped his jaws with such force a tooth flew out of his mouth. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Shrike stared at his tail. His rattle was a black blur.
“It doesn’t.” She agreed, giving him a tart look. “You never showed any remorse when you eyed me like a piece of meat.”
Zhu snickered. “Yeah, I am a dirt bag. But I guess this is different. Whenever I acted all super pervy, it was meant to be a joke, you know. So, over the top creepy, you couldn’t help but laugh. Same thing with the waifu idea. Sure, making them in the first place was sad and pathetic, but that was the point, and it was funny! Now that they’re real, I just feel gross and skeevy in a bad way. He buried his face in his hands. “When I looked in the mirror, I saw what was there. That was my only virtue—and it turns out I don’t even have that.”
A silence fell over them. To Zhu’s credit, he recovered quickly.
“Whatever. Moping around doesn’t accomplish jack. You’re a girl. Got any ideas on how I can turn them down gently?” He shook his head and snorted. “Just saying that aloud sounds wrong. Me rejecting a girl. What has this world come to?”
******
Zhu was never a fan of alcohol.
Debauched as he was, he limited his hedonism to eating, overconsumption of media, and dependence on a specific set of left-handed activities. Substance abuse was a hard no. The brief euphoria drugs offered was not worth the high price point or the heavy recoil.
Now that he was a virtually immortal monster, he supposed a bit of liquid toxin couldn’t hurt too much. Zhu took a sip from his tankard of kilju. He jerked back as if it had bitten him.
“The mercenaries almost started a riot over this crap?”
“My father told me nobody actually likes the taste of alcohol,” Shrike supplied. “They just put up with it to get drunk.”
The pseudowyrm tried to force more of the ungodly brew down his throat. “Man, this shit tastes like dog piss,” he grumbled.
“You know, you don’t have to drink that just to talk to her,” Shrike smirked. Amused that such a formidable creature needed a dose of liquid courage to speak to a woman.
Zhu shook his head. “No, I definitely do. Getting drunk is probably the only way I’ll be able to wrap my head around this absurd situation.” He squeezed his eyes shut and, after a few moments, mustered the nerve to dump the whole concoction into his mouth. In an instant, his body felt lighter. For some inexplicable reason, he felt the need to swing his arms.
“Gods that brew hit you quickly.” Shrike warily eyed Zhu’s swaying form. Comical as his intoxicated movement was, she was worried she would fall victim to his oafish strength.
Zhu shook his head. “No, you’re my squire. You have to stay within shouting distance, in case I need you to scratch my back or hand me a snack.”
“Wouldn’t you rather keep your conversation private?”
“Yeah, I kind of would; which is why I want you to be my lookout and make sure nobody listens in on this soap opera.”
Rolling her eyes, Shrike stepped outside and stood guard.
Alone and with nothing to do, Zhu's idle mind delved into his memories. He grinned when he recalled snippets of amusing conversations and moments. The memories that he saw most often though, were the ones that he didn’t want to revisit. He clawed at his arms as a torrent of minor regrets and past shames flooded his consciousness.
“Damn it! I thought I had outgrown this! Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Sputnik! Get the fuck out of my head!” he roared, sinking his teeth into his wrist. Thick biofuel flooded his mouth. The unnatural substance tasted like gasoline, but he couldn’t stop himself from lapping it up.
He stared at his healed flesh, trying to resist the temptation to reopen it. The sound of a knuckle rapping on steel broke the self-destructive spell he had fallen under.
“Zhu, it’s Velvet, may I come in?”
Zhu ushered the synth inside and scrambled to lock the door. Velvet blushed at his urgency and threw him a seductive smile.
“My, my, you’re certainly eager.”
Zhu blinked. He flushed and rubbed the back of his head. “Uh no. That’s not what I had in mind.”
Velvet's smile faltered. Her violet eyes widened when she noticed the black stains on the floor. “What happened?”
“Just had a bit of a temper tantrum. It’s nothing worth talking about.” He staved off her fussing and gently steered her towards Sarin’s old bunk bed. “Here, curl up on this.”
As Velvet got comfortable, he climbed onto the mattress across from her.
“I called you here because I heard you were upset with the way I’ve been acting around you and the girls.”
“Be honest with me, Zhu. Have we done anything to upset you?”
“No, you haven’t, but forgot about me and my feelings. That isn’t important. Tell me, do you and the girls harbor any resentment towards me?”
“Of course not!” she exclaimed instantly. “How could I? You’re our creator.”
Zhu rose from his seat. “Exactly. I created you in a very literal sense. I didn’t sire you, I built you. I shaped your body and programmed your mind and personality. All the wants and insecurities you harbor are products of my scatterbrained ideas. I could have made you into anything—a genius philosopher, a majestic demigod, or I could have done the kindest act there is and spared you from the deranged cosmic mistake that we call life. Instead, I made you a glorified babysitter. A position you were only given so I’d have an excuse to indulge my creepy lust.”
Velvet stared at her gloved hands. After what felt like an eternity passed, she spoke, “Life is full of uncertainties, but I know this. I don’t regret being born and I love you.”
“The affection you feel for me is artificial. No naturally born woman would want anything to do with me.”
A fierce gleam entered Velvet's eyes. “My feelings are real.”
“And there is no resentment?”
“None.”
“Even after I took away your son?”
Velvet buried her head into his chest.
“That was not your fault! It was mine! I spoiled him and did not teach him to control his temper!”
Zhu bit his tongue as she continued to cry. When Sion told him that they’d be putting down Junior, Zhu had just accepted the outcome with a disappointed shrug. He had outwardly acquiesced to Sovereign’s demand that he refrain from ever bedding his synths again, with the full intention of going back on his word. That was until he visited Velvet. Even back then, she had been capable of mourning. He remembered how furious he was with himself for letting a collection of data get to him. He wished that anger would come back. Anything would have felt better than this.
“I didn’t fight for him. I just walked away when they pinned him to the ground and tore him open.”
“There was nothing you could do!” she insisted.
“I could have tried something; I chose not to.”
Even if he could go back in time, Zhu wasn’t sure whether he would have stuck up for his “son”. Zhu had no business being a father, and, given Junior’s volatile temper, his offspring would have taken his refusal to parent personally. A power struggle would have been inevitable.
“I am not somebody that you should pledge your love or loyalty to. You and the others are pouring your hearts out into an empty pit. I only take, never give.”
“Don’t you ever speak about yourself in such a way ever again!” Velvet snapped. “I won’t tolerate any speaking ill of you! Not even yourself.”
Zhu snorted. “Busting my own balls is one of my own specialties, I’m afraid.”
Velvet grabbed his hands. “Why does it matter that you created us? The only thing that matters is that we bring each other happiness.”
Zhu looked away. After a long while, he asked, “If I committed to this, what would our relationship be like? Would you lend me your ear whenever I needed to get something off my chest?”
“Always.”
“Would you laugh at all my bad jokes?”
Velvet’s laughter chimed like silver bells.
“Would you place me above all others?”
“I already do.”
“Even yourself?”
“Your happiness means everything to me.”
He gently pulled her hands out of her grasp. “Then I don’t think that this is going to work.”
“What?”
“What you agreed is not a relationship between lovers, but of master and servant. Your entire life should not revolve around me.”
“But what’s wrong with that? I love you!”
“If my happiness is your reason for living, then you’re destined to leave this world unfulfilled. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I have ever been happy. I’ve been amused and content these past few years, but I always felt like I was missing something. Even with an entire army at my beck and call, I am just too much of a fool to figure out what I want. Cut me out of your life, Velvet.”
Tears welled in Velvet’s eyes. She tried to wipe them away, but more sprang forth. Zhu cringed. He wanted to flee from this awkward situation, but he awkwardly embraced the heartbroken synth.
“Please don’t cast me away.”
“You should be angry with me, not sad. Punch me. Curse and spit at me. Tell me you hate me. Just please stop crying.”
“Even if you don’t return my feelings, I’ll never stop loving you.”
Zhu sighed and patted her on the back. “I’m going to give you one last order. Be happy. I know that is easier said than done, but do whatever it takes to grab hold of it.”
Velvet rushed outside when Zhu pulled away from her. Zhu flopped back onto Dirge’s old bed. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a month.
A creaking hinge roused him before he could slip into unconsciousness. He cracked an eye open. “Anybody try to listen in?”
“Not that I saw,” Shrike replied.
“Never made a girl cry before,” Zhu remarked. “Well, that’s a lie. I’ve done it plenty of times, but I was trying to back then. Not as fun when it’s not on purpose.”
“Well, I am glad that there are some traces of empathy within you.”
“I’m not. I told The Watcher that I would become a god and gouge out his eye no matter what it took. How am I going to accomplish that if I can’t even handle a woman’s tears? I’m so fucked.”
“I could help you.”
“What are you gonna do? Ask him not to burn me for all of eternity?”
“No, I was talking about finding happiness.”
Zhu glanced at the door. “Would have thought that a steel door would have been more soundproof. Alright, I’ll bite. What do you have in mind?”
“Your whole life you lived like an animal. You’ve done nothing but eat, sleep, and indulge your base desires. What you need is fulfillment. Purpose. Goals. Something to aspire to.”
“I already tried that. Didn’t work out.”
“Only a fool would refuse to stand back up again just because he has tripped a few times. Do you realize how lucky you are? The god that sent you here may be mad and cruel, but he has given you incredible gifts. The amount of good you could accomplish with your newfound might and allies is beyond imagination.”
“Me? Doing good?” Zhu cackled. “Do I look like a superhero to you? For fuck’s sake, my main power is enslaving stuff.”
“But you don’t have to use them on people! Even without your abilities, you are the strongest being I’ve laid eyes on. Your army could wipe out all the monsters and luddites that plague the continents. Your recollections alone are an invaluable treasure. Electricity, running water, cars, you could bring these advances to our world.”
“Hate to break it to you, but just because I lived with that stuff doesn’t mean I know how they work.”
“What about all those machines you have here? If your followers can make those devices, surely they can recreate those things from your world?”
“We rely on the ziggurat’s replicator to make most of the futuristic equipment. Firing it up is always a super expensive process and I don’t know whether this world has the resources we need to keep it fueled. Ever heard of something called enigma?”
Shrike bit her lip. She never heard of the strange substance until now. “That synth of yours, Aldrin, he can shape steel and stone with his bare hands. Can’t he figure out how to make those devices?”
“Transmutation is annoyingly finicky. They need to inject something called a memory packet into their neural implant to make use of their powers. A transmuter with a halberd blueprint download could bust out five hundred of those bitches in a row if he’s got enough energy and materials at hand. That same guy wouldn't be able to transmute a simpler spear unless he had that specific packet too. As far as we know, Conquest never doled out any packets for any of the high-tech gizmos. Assuming it’s even possible to reverse engineer the stuff the replicator makes, we’d have to take them apart and try to learn to make them the old fashion way, and who knows how long that would take?”
“Just knowing the concepts could bring about so much progress.”
“Maybe.” Zhu stared at the many heads mounted on his wall. “I guess there is no harm in trying. Let’s say that you were in my shoes. What would you do?”
“I would help my people,” Shrike answered immediately.
Zhu didn’t look impressed. “Of course, you would.”
“But just saving them would not be enough. I would dedicate my whole life to ensure that they prospered. I would establish a great civilization in the west and erect temples dedicated to Kanghui and the tianlongs across the lands!”
Zhu stroked his barbels. “Your aspirations are a bit on the plain side, and I don’t care for them one bit. That said, I don’t have any better ideas, so I guess I can roll with it until I figure out what I want.” He retrieved a glaive that was twice as long as Shrike was tall. “Layer up and grab something pointy. We’re going on a trip.”