Just when you need your voice the most, that moment is when it fails you. What we take for granted suddenly disappears; a parable, peddled by fools.
Rinkaku Harigane’s voice had never failed him until now.
The fact he was floating again could only mean one thing. All around him, the inky ocean of the cosmos surged. Stars, distant pinpricks, glimmered in the backdrop. He was here again, wherever this was. He’d been here once before, with the Architect. He had a body this time, but no autonomy. Dark matter bound his arms, legs and mouth. Glaring straight through him, at the centre of it all, was the Eye.
Rin had no mouth, but all he wanted to do was scream.
The sight of the stellar deity alone made him wince. That awful, kaleidoscopic iris glowed so bright, he couldn’t bear to look. He wished he couldn’t see, that he didn’t have to bear witness to such painful colours. Even so, his gaze fell victim to the gravity of its pupil—darker than black—threatening to tear him apart. Boundless psychic energy pressed inwards on him from all sides. He was barely breathing. The air was thick with an ether his body—his mind—just couldn’t process.
And all at once, the Eye began to speak. Thousands of voices, every possible pitch and tone, rang in Rin’s head—the chiming of discordant bells. It hurt so much. Rin didn’t want to hear. He wished he’d never been able to hear at all. Everything that could be said was said, and Rin understood nothing. He writhed against his nebulous bonds to no avail.
It was speaking to him. Why?
A pause, and the Eye blinked. Was it waiting for a response?
Rin felt his soul roar with a renewed wave of struggle. The glow of psychic energy—his own—enveloped his skin and consumed the black bonds. He fell and landed on invisible yet solid ground. His vision blurred with every stab from a blinding headache. Every nerve in his body had been set alight.
“What do you want with me?!” Rin called into the void, not expecting an answer.
Suddenly, the Eye’s myriad voices became one. “A Warning,” it boomed. “The Usurper; the Deceived; the Beyond.”
Rin could make out the words, but couldn’t understand. Another flash of pain through his skull sent him crashing to his knees. He didn’t know how much more he could take. He clutched at the sides of his face. His gaze was still rooted in the clutches of that bright god.
He stood, somehow, and dared to lift his head. “What are you trying to tell me? Why am I here?”
His voice echoed into the empty darkness. The Eye blinked again. Rin shuddered; that brief lapse in its solitary stare was somehow worse than the gaze itself.
“Prideful one before the fall,” cautioned the invisible choir. The voices, blended yet distinct, rang out from all sides. “Those who aspire must bear the weight of their responsibility. The pressure of the task is too great to bear on mortal shoulders.”
It was warning him, but against what? His ambitions? Rin swivelled on the ball of his foot, desperately trying to follow the sounds. No matter which way he turned, however, his gaze always gravitated back towards the Eye.
“Heed not the Deceiver! Prioritise self-life!” The voices commanded. “Those that do not reach, do not fall. Calamity will follow aspiration! The heavens and the earth will fall into jeopardy! Chaos ensues; all is forfeit! Safeguard against cataclysm, torment at the hands of creation. Prepare, or perish in the inferno of your own unmaking!”
A large hand fell on Rin’s shoulder.
“Just this once, boy, close your mind,” cautioned the Architect, strangely soft in tone. “Don’t let it lead you astray.” The tall man stepped up and in front of his inheritor, standing between him and that overpowering cosmic presence.
“What are you doing here?”
The spirit didn’t look back. “I feared this would happen. The Eye is trying to corrupt you. You were seconds away from succumbing, had I not arrived.”
Rin felt the pain in his head ebb away, now bathed in the Architect’s psychic energy. “Why is it doing this?!”
“It isn’t doing anything—rather, it can’t.” The Architect’s jaw clenched, his next words came out with a growl. “It’s them. They despise you, despise me; despise us both.”
“Them?”
“The Nine. Fundamental forces of the universe. Some call them gods, that isn’t quite right. They are phenomena: concepts given form through psychic energy.”
“Like the Traffic Sentinel?” Rin shuddered. He was still reeling from their close shave with certain death.
The Architect nodded. “It’s pathetic,” he spat. “These so-called gods despise autonomy of the self above all else. Their mortal subjects—those that give them life, give them purpose to begin with—are fit to be nothing more than pawns on the galactic table, no action without predetermination. Those who reach beyond their station are smited, erased from the Well of Souls. Your ascension was a personal slight against them, thus they have come to reclaim your power for themselves.”
Rin felt his skin prickle. “How are they doing this? This makes no sense. I thought my ascension was a success!”
“Your psyche is still forming. They exploited the vulnerability of your mind to infiltrate your subconscious and subdue you at your very core.”
“Bastards.” Rin shoot a glare at the Eye.
“Do not look at it!” The Architect shouted. “You must never look at the Eye. The Well of Souls is a force strong enough to tear a soul asunder.”
“Right.” Rin shut his eyes, and stared at the floor. The Architect’s hand on his shoulder was a tangible comfort amid all this void. “What’s the Well of Souls? You never mentioned that before.”
“It’s the origin of everyone. You saw it; that bottomless pupil. The Eye is responsible for human consciousness itself, the very idea of the soul. Any soul that has ever, does currently, or will ever live exists within the Well of Souls.”
“And those voices?”
“All souls from the Well. Nameless, faceless, but all distinct and sacred. Souls of aeons past or future, I cannot know. The Nine have chosen to contact you through the Eye itself.” This evidently wasn’t good news. The man’s frown made it difficult to tell precisely why. “Did you understand what they were saying?”
“Eventually. They were warning me.” Rin’s head throbbed with every attempt to recall. A few of the voices still resonated. “Something about a usurper? A deceiver?”
The Architect let out a low growl. Before he could respond, the glow of psychic energy from around the Eye intensified to blinding extremes. The Architect and his protegee winced and shielded their eyes, before the larger man had finally had enough.
“You will intrude upon this boys’ mind no longer!” He roared. Shoving Rin back, the Architect interlaced his fingers into three different patterns and brought both hands together. “Framework!”
A thunderclap echoed through the expanse. Rin stumbled back even further. A barrier erected into the space between them and the Eye. A stunning diamond pattern, always shifting, layered the walls into a mesh of outlines. The Eye maintained its stare, but the wall held fast. Rin was once again reduced to an onlooker. Once again, a surge of envy—of wonder—welled up in his chest as he gazed up at the Architect. How long this lasted, he wasn’t sure. Time didn’t seem to pass in this space. Before he’d managed to clock the fact, however, the Eye had faded from view. In the absence of the strong light, the glow from each of the distant stars seemed just a little brighter.
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With a sigh, the Architect performed another gesture and drew his hands apart, dissipating the barrier. For another few moments, neither party said a word, before—
“You must not listen to anything you were told, boy.”
Rin couldn’t help himself. “Why?”
“They are trying to dissuade you from achieving your dream.” The Architect folded both arms. “Your journey has barely begun. You mustn’t let yourself be led astray at such a crucial stage.”
Rin couldn’t believe it. This entire time, the Architect had been looking out for him? “What were they warning me about? Is any of it true?”
The Architect’s lip curled. “Is that any of your concern? You aspire to recreate the world to your own design. That is your dream, if I’m not mistaken: to create a perfect world. Concerns relative to that feat are pitiful by comparison.”
Rin nodded. “They’re trying to stop me.”
“And this won’t be the last time. Be prepared, and never listen to what they tell you. Once your resolve is broken, our contract will void, and your powers will fade. With no psychic energy to defend yourself, your soul will be forfeit.” The corner of his immutable frown warped into a grin. “Though, the fact you have attracted their ire so soon is promising indeed.” He guided a hand over his chin.
Rin thought he had enough to deal with already. “Great. Now I have two groups of people that want me dead, one of which are the literal gods of the universe! How the hell is that a good thing?!”
“It means they consider you a threat, boy. Your potential scares them.” The man’s grandiose tone grew louder. With thunderous, booming laughter, the spirit threw both arms wide. “They seek to quash you before you achieve the power to depose them from their fragile thrones! You must take charge of your own destiny, show them your dream. Their era has passed. Those dead gods cannot, must not decide your fate.”
The shock faded, and soon Rin found himself sharing the Architect’s grin. “You’re right.” He snapped open a clenched fist, and a cube frame popped into existence. “If they’re the ones responsible for this corrupt world, then no wonder they’re trying to get rid of me.”
“That is why you must continue to cultivate your power.” The Architect took the frame from Rin’s hands and spun it into a three-dimensional snowflake. Rin’s eyes lit up, before he realised the theft and snatched it back. The boy stepped a few paces away, admiring the shape from every angle.
“How do I do that?”
“Perspective.”
“Still tells me nothing.”
The Architect shook his head. “You still cling to your pathetic childish mindset; you still labour under the delusion you know the world. You know nothing.”
“Is that so?” Rin turned away from the snowflake at last, eyebrow twitching. “Who the hell are you to decide that, you dour dust-magnet? You’ve been dead for the past however-long. I’m one of the most talented minds of my generation. I got accepted to college before anyone else even thought about applying. I’ve designed for and won architectural contests across the world. My designs are on display at exhibition centres in Europe, for crying out loud! I’ve done more than most ever will!”
“Still so childish.” The Architect cut him off, sighing. “You are proving my point to the letter.” He held out a hand, and constructed a large shovel. Handing it to Rin, he gestured to the nonexistent ground. “Go on. Keep digging. Do you truly think it is me you’re trying to convince with such hot air?”
Rin took one look at the shovel before the gears clicked. “Fuck off!” He threw the shovel to the side. “You think I’m trying to ego-boost here? Think my self-confidence is so fragile that I have to comfort myself with my accomplishments? There’s a reason I have such strong mental foundations. There’s a reason I’ve made so much progress so quickly. I’m just that good.” Each word was punctuated, each word a statement. “Ever since I was thrown headfirst into this shitty situation, I’ve kept going. I’ve fended off every single damn threat to my life. You can nitpick my technique all you want, but you can’t deny what you’ve seen, Architect!”
“If you truly are as good as you make yourself out to be, boy—” The Architect, no rise to Rin’s exasperated tirade visible beneath his helmet, strode forward. The height difference made Rin recoil slightly— “Then why did you fail to protect that girl—the only one who has continually stuck up for your sorry person—when she was in dire need of it?”
“I didn’t fail!” Rin clenched his jaw. “I just—”
“You what, boy? You couldn’t move? Don’t be so feeble.” Architect poked a finger into Rin’s chest. The boy yelped and stumbled back. “You were the only one able to withstand the pressure of Gus Ishimatsu’s psychic energy. Your wounds had already been healed, an act you didn’t so much as acknowledge, and yet when she was seconds away from dying, you stood stock still like a frightened lamb. You call yourself strong, capable even?” The Architect growled and seized Rin by the throat. “What good do you provide? You berate your allies, belittle them. You construct a singular wall, and pretend you are the sole reason for any victory, however small. You are not a leader. You are a liability.”
Rin grappled furiously at the larger man’s hand, a vicarious but ultimately futile struggle. The boy’s arms went limp, his head lolling forwards.
“The fact she is still alive is a miracle.” The weight of the Architect’s glare was suffocating. He threw the boy to the ground and folded his arms. “Had it not been for the serendipitous intervention at the last moment, you would all have been obliterated.”
Rin lay on his side in a heap, face pressed against the cool ethereal floor. The seconds that passed only added to the gloom that had settled on this dark expanse.
“Did you spout this nonsense, thinking I would praise you for your accomplishment? You’re still nothing but a child; insecure, desperate for external affirmation.”
No response.
“When we first met, you professed your dream to me. But it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”
“No.”
“You spoke with true conviction. With your life at stake, you were forced to abandon your fragile ego. Our deal, our contract was founded on that conviction. Where did it go?”
No response. The Architect huffed in disappointment.
“You swore to become the greatest architect history had ever known; you swore to rebuild the world in your image.” The Architect stood over Rin, staring down. “Your words moved me, but I see now they were just that; empty words. I’m disappointed. Tell me why I shouldn’t void our contract immediately.”
Rin sat up, supporting himself with one arm. “They weren’t just words.”
“Answer me this, then.” The Architect’s frown warped into a snarl. “Why, when presented, did you refuse the opportunity to seize your dream?”
Rin’s jaw dropped. “You mean back then, when I refused Gus’ offer…”
“He promised you a partnership, did he not? Gus Ishimatsu shares your goal, to reshape the world to what it should be. I could tell as clear as day: the man spoke true. I know you felt it as I did, the conviction in his words. They were the same as your own. Yet, coward that you are, you refused to listen. You stood there, frozen; a frightened calf.”
“What did you want me to do? Were you serious?”
“I see no reason to refuse his offer.”
“Why didn’t I go with Gus?” Rin finally found the strength to stand. “Are you fucking mad?! Are you sure you’re not missing a screw, old man? Are we talking about the same damn person here? Gus Ishimatsu: the guy who kidnapped my dad; killed god-knows-how-many people. The guy behind this entire fiasco?”
The Architect remained utterly unmoved. “I fail to see what relevance that has to your dream.”
Rin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re kidding me.” He took a step back. “Architect, this guy kidnapped and tortured my friends! Do you think for a second that I’d—”
“Friends you so willingly betrayed?”
Rin froze.
“You talk so much; it sickens me. Had your friends been the priority,” the Architect continued, “you would never have let the Amibari girl remain in harm’s way. If you truly had been strong, you would have been the one to carve a way out of that Mindscape. You would not have betrayed your friends, and made a deal with a man whose word you do not trust to save your own hide. Worse still, you would not have lied to them. Are you so arrogant to think your actions won’t have consequences? You are pathetic, Rinkaku Harigane; and a coward!”
The boy hung his head. He didn’t dare look up. How could he? Every single thing said had been right, after all. There was no use pretending anymore. In his heart of hearts, he’d known all along.
“Why didn’t you accept Gus Ishimatsu’s offer?”
“I couldn’t.” Rin shook his head, finally with the strength to stare the Architect in the face! “Not after everything that bastard’s done—not to me, but to everyone!”
“Foolish sentimentality.” The Architect’s frown deepened. “Do you expect me to be impressed?”
“No. I don’t need your damn approval!” Rin spat. “I’m not reneging on my end of the contract. I’m taking your power and making it my own! I will reshape the world, but not at the expense of the people who trust me!”
The world from Rin’s point of view began to fade. He felt the ground underneath him lose substance, as everything began slipping away. The Architect’s form in the distance didn’t relent. The man stared true, along with his parting words. “Very well, boy. Prove me wrong.”