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400. Never Get It Back
🕑 Added 2025-05-22 14:00:10 +0000 UTCBrightbriar lunged at him, hands gripping for Ike’s throat, his face distorted in hatred and anger. “You understand nothing.”
“No, I think I understand everything,” Ike retorted. Lightning flashed, and he blurred, sidestepping Brightbriar’s lunge and reappearing several feet to his right. As Brightbriar dropped past him, he drew his sword and swung. To his surprise, he made contact, smashing Brightbriar in the back.
There was no blood, though. Nor the sensation of striking flesh. Just a hollow, open sound, like the beat of a drum.
Ike laughed. “Did you turn yourself into a puppet, or was it done to you? Which happened first?”
Brightbriar snarled. He dropped down and landed on the floor, for the split second needed to whip around and charge back at Ike. “I did none of it. He did it!”
“Who?” Ike asked.
“You,” Brightbriar said, and slammed into Ike with such force that Ike flew backward and slammed into the wall. He pushed off the wall, but too slow; Brightbriar used his higher Rank to close in and smash him into the wall. Blood flew out of Ike’s mouth. He gasped, instinctively struggling for air, and Brightbriar hammered him again, kicking him right through the wall. Bits of white stone flew in all directions, and Ike tumbled through into the other side of the wall into a dark, deep drop. As he tumbled, he kicked his legs around and aimed for the ground, using a technique he hadn’t used since his days with Silver. He struck the floor and faced Brightbriar.
Brightbriar stood in the hole he’d just punched through the wall, gazing down on Ike… no, not at Ike. Behind him. “You.”
Ike turned slowly.
A massive vat, bigger than any of the vats that had held the puppets in the previous room, stood behind him. Despite its size, it held only a piece of a person… or perhaps, a fragment? A head. A shock of white hair. A neck, and a single arm. That was all that remained. The man’s face was new to Ike, one he’d never seen before, and yet, one he’d seen a thousand times before. He’d seen it in the King, in the Prince, in the infants, Accais, and Llewyn, and even… in the mirror.
This was him. This was what remained of the greater being.
And this was the one who’d cursed Brightbriar and all his other underlings, who’d set off this whole chain of events by erasing Brightbriar’s memories, consigning that woman to fog, and who knew what else to the rest of them.
Ike turned back to Brightbriar. He frowned. “If he’s the one that fucked you over, why are you trying to bring him back?”
Brightbriar scowled. “I can’t remember. I just know I can’t leave him alone. I need him back, perfect, or I’ll never be whole again.”
Ike snorted. “You were never whole to begin with. There’s no fixing you. Your head’s fucked, man. Totally ruined.”
“You don’t understand anything,” Brightbriar snarled, and charged at Ike again.
The two exchanged blows, their blades flashing so fast they were impossible to follow. Even as they fought, Ike’s brows knit as he pondered the situation. Brightbriar was obsessed with the greater being, to the point of doing anything to bring him back, but the greater being was the one who’d punished him? It didn’t make any sense. Why would the greater being punish him, if Brightbriar was so devoted to him? True, he could chalk that up to Brightbriar’s memories being wiped, but the woman in the fog had said something about “it” shattering them all, about them all being broken, and him… or rather, the greater being, broken the worst. If “it” had broken them, then… that couldn’t be the greater being, but from the way Brightbriar talked, it was the greater being who’d attacked the rest of them. The ones who’d been ‘in the greater being’s party,’ or whatever.
Unless. He looked at Brightbriar and frowned. “What happened, between you and the greater being? If ‘it’ damaged all of you and the greater being, how come you think the greater being harmed you? If the greater being harmed you, why spend all your life trying to recreate him?”
Brightbriar laughed. Robes ripped, and an arm shot out of his chest and slammed Ike back, pushing past the Hungry Sword like it was nothing. Ike stumbled, slightly off-balance, and the new arm grabbed his shoulder and pushed him, slamming him through the glass and into the vat with the greater being… or all that remained of him. A strange, viscous, slightly slippery liquid gushed out around Ike, through the hole Brightbriar had smashed in the vat, and the greater being slumped in the goo. The greater being and Ike contacted one another, and Ike’s vision darkened. Even without absorbing anything, he felt something cross between them, something flow between him and the greater being. Their minds merged, and for a moment, he saw the greater being’s memories.
A lofty room, looking over the world. Shadowy figures stood around, two of them with familiar auras; one with the ever-shifting aura of the ants, and the other with the foggy woman’s aura. Power flowed through him and into the world, and flowed from the world into him. He was a Pillar of the World, a support which held up this fragile planet.
The door burst open. A young Brightbriar ran in, his eyes wide, full of fear. “Sir! They’re coming! They’ve risen up, and they’re coming for you! Escape, now!”
Ike turned. He already knew what would come. He had known for a long time now. Seen the looks on the faces of the other council members. The darkness in their eyes. Their hatred, turned against him.
He faced Brightbriar and saw the knife for a split second before it carved into him. Even as it struck home, he lifted his hand. The things he had prepared, the spells he’d crafted, took shape. Something better than a Pillar to support this world, after he was gone. Something strong enough to regulate this world, without having to worry about its ‘friends’ pulling a coup.
It took form before him, composed of nothing but numbers, data, and his will. It had no physical shape, but he could feel it, coming to life, spreading itself, expanding to the entire world before them. He gave his all to craft it, and his mana and body poured into the spell. As the life faded from his body, and his body crumbled into pieces, he gave it his first, and last, command.
Punish them.
And so it had.
