SpiralingSilverandEyes
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Chapter 365 - Under The Moonlight, You See A Sight That Almost Stops Your Heart
🕑 Added 2025-08-22 01:11:30 +0000 UTCHello! It's me again! Back from a few days of dealing with medication and alla dat- while my output has improved, my consistency is next on the docket for refinement. See y'all shortly!
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I am once again submitting this letter to politely request clarification on the nature of the difficulties that the archives have been encountering. The works I have requested are on the approved list for research purposes, and all pertain to historical precedents rather than experimental practices or practical application. Yet, once more, I have spent months waiting for an update on any of the works I’ve sent out requests for, without more than a word on whether or not they even still exist. Please, if there is anything that can be done to clarify this matter, I urge you to act on it with absolute haste.
To reiterate, officially, for the fourth time, the requested texts are: Pre-Imperial Law, Fourth Edition, by the Patriarch of the Falling Hammer Sect; On Natural Flora And Blessed Beasts, Seventh Edition, by the wandering Monk Zei Qui Gon; Taxonomy Of Mortal Instruments And Their Evolutions, by Li Renshu of the Galloping Rains Sect; and, of course, History Of The Greatest And Final Empire, in its first printing. Please let me know what is delaying their acquisition, and what can be done to rectify this- any further delays will have to be met with censure and review by the Head Researcher of your division.
-Redacted letter written by Researcher Wei Xiong, later arrested on charges of treason, unsanctioned demonic cultivation, and endangering the welfare of the state.
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The next step in the proceedings goes rather quickly. The next step in the plan involves the cave beneath the Cathedral, after all.
She leaves Jin in Li Shu’s care, alongside her secondary body, taking care not to mention Bishop Glorianna’s aide remaining upstairs alongside them. They’re both rattled and drained from the conflict, and she doesn’t want to expose them unnecessarily- they watch as she descends, both working on their own recoveries and preparations. Raika and the Bishops all walk down the winding stairs beneath the central statue, once again revealed by that soft prayer of crushed marble and whispered word: “Blessed Be The Dig”. The soft earth is unveiled, the stairs of black stone at their feet leading down, down, down.
It takes more than an hour before they hit the spiral at its end, before they twist and turn and descend at last into true dark.
There hasn’t been light the entire trip down, every step taken in perfect pitch black, with Raika relying on her muffled hearing and more recent Echo-senses to feel the space around them. Until, that is, the point where they cross that last threshold.
Just as before, all sense of place and experience vanishes. A death of one’s mortal senses so absolute that, even though she expected it, Raika almost stumbles, recovering only due to the control she has over her corpse-form. Of course, the Bishops don’t so much as hesitate, heads bowed in prayer as they descend into the earth.
Her senses adjust, and she sees the cave once more.
Once more, there are dozens of corpses here, outlined in that reverse-sight that only Death can bring, where their shadows are more visible than the absence of light. Dozens of humanoid bodies, wrapped, mummified, preserved- and unlike last time, inert.
Seo En-Hyun steps to one side, comfortably settling into the same alcove she saw him in the last time (notably one of the few spots without a preserved corpse taking up space). Glorianna, on the other hand, stands close beside her partner, keeping in close with Lu Karai.
Smart.
She’s going to End by Raika’s hand, after all.
No need for oaths. No need for anything all that showy. Raika knows it, and that’s what matters.
She tried to kill someone of hers. Someone off-limits. Someone she has put a lot of herself into protecting. So, Raika’s going to wrap her hands around that glass globe of a head and squeeze until it pops, and then see what happens after.
Probably more violence.
Later. She focuses, turning to Lu Karai as he weaves the shadows around them into a complex pattern at the center of the room. She does her best to memorize it, carving parts of it into her body using her control of undead tissue, but it’s borderline incomprehensible, with thousands of runes or rune-equivalent movements built into its circuits and flourishes.
A few moments pass, and the golden skeleton shoves the energy into place. With a thunderclap of sound, magnified a thousandfold by the tight confines, the spell collapses into a central point before exploding into gaseous darkness, shooting out in a half-dozen directions.
Silence returns to the grave.
“And now?” Raika asks.
“We wait,” he replies, his voice returned to “normal” levels of weirdness. “Such a summons is rare, even in preparation for wartime. It’s simply not how it’s done. The call will be heard by every Bishop, Patriarch, Cardinal- even the Most Holy themself. Whether or not they respond, I cannot say.”
“And if they don’t?”
He turns to her, offering the very mildest of shrugs. “I follow in your footsteps, no? I’m afraid this lowly Bishop will have to hear the holy words of our local prophet to find the way forward.”
She snorts, crossing her arms in front of her. Fair enough. She has a few ideas for that.
A few minutes pass, and she spends the time reviewing her memories of the fight, carving into her memory and literal body a compilation of all the runes and arrays used in the fight. It’s not much new information, considering all of them were hers, but she felt where there were flaws, inefficiencies that can be repaired, modifications that can be undertaken. She still isn’t great at the theory of how these things work, but experience is a far more effective teacher than theory anyways.
Eventually, just as she’s starting to think she might have to switch her focus to the body above-ground rather than running it in the background, one of the corpses nearby stirs.
Slowly, with a rattling, echoing breeze that dances in and back out of its ribcage, one of the preserved bodies sits up, its single eye coming “alive” with awareness that dead tissue should not possess. It swivels around, staring at each of them, before refocusing on her.
A glint of crimson in the back of its socket gives away the game and lets her know exactly who’s first to arrive.
“Blessed caretaker, fellow Bishop, honored adherent,” whispers Kai Valdir’s sibilant voice. “I had thought that my departure from the city would deprive me, but to think, I’ve missed whatever sequence of events has brought about such blessed joy and holy meeting.”
“Kai Valdir,” she replies, nodding to him. “Your presence is appreciated. Are others in your city…?”
“The city-state of Viviae shall be joining shortly. I simply couldn’t hold myself back from greeting you once more, and basking in the holy favor you carry with you and your companions. I certainly have cost myself some in my haste, but such trifles are less than nothing before an emergency summons.”
“Your promptness is appreciated,” she says, putting on her “politics” face. “However, I’m afraid that what I have to speak of is of too much impact to repeat. I ask that you wait but a few moments, as I present my case to the wider body of the Church.”
“Of course, of course. However, this lowly worshipper of the Holy Canon wishes only to impart, before my humble silence, that should you or the Blessed Mortal require anything at all, it will be an honor and a privilege to assist to my full capacities.”
No response to that- she just nods. It’s uncomfortable, going back to the way he speaks- Glorianna talks like a noblewoman, as does her partner, but Seo En-Hyun is borderline casual at the best of times. Returning to the highly officious and religious cant is a bit uncomfortable, especially with the barely-contained hunger she detects in the back of his gaze. He, above all the others, was always the most eager to focus on Jin’s development- part of the reason she was relieved when he had “other business” to attend to.
Over moments, more and more of the corpses come awake, greeted politely by Lu Karai by name. Some of them are Patriarchs and Matriarchs, responsible for singular churches and holy sites spread throughout the kingdom- others, fellow Bishops, powerful but ultimately middle-management tier powers of the different cities.
The ambiance of the chamber changes as the higher echelons begin to arrive.
Several of the larger corpses, those with larger alcoves or recessed further back into the earth, begin to stir to existence, bringing with them a palpable weight. It’s not like a Domain, but it’s similar- as a cultivator might impose a version of reality onto the world around them, so do the practitioners of the Church’s necromancy carry their Deaths with them, so profound and powerful that they shape space and context.
Archbishops, first. They bear similar or identical weights to the Bishops in the chamber, their power more political in nature than literal, but they carry themselves with the weight of their roles and experience to match. Behind, above, and around them, however, come flickering awarenesses that begin to hurt to be around.
The name brings to mind broad wings, bright and vibrant and evocative. Cardinals.
There are only a few of them, but the movement in the air around them stills, the decay ripens and plateaus, the passage of time itself seems to almost dim.
And then the largest corpse, the one with a wall entirely to itself, stirs.
It’s not like last time. Last time, they were polite. Last time, she was alive, wholly and completely. Now, more corpse than ghoul and more ghoul than living, she feels the anchors punched through her body trembling, as if fighting to remain in place rather than collapse.
The chamber sits in perfect silence.
If there were doubt before, there isn’t now. There are at least a dozen people in the grave with her that could unmake her with an act of will alone. She might be able to survive and surprise against Bishops taking it easy, but she is a dreadfully small fish compared to the sharks in the water, even if she once might have swam closer to their scale.
She feels her acupuncture needles trembling. Feels the way that her Death and her life are grating against each other like metal-on-metal, sparking crackling growth from the Blacksteel prosthetic serving as her arm.
She smiles. It’s… kind of welcoming, actually. It’s been a while since she felt like she was about to get exploded by someone stronger than her. Feels nostalgic.
She bows, low, using the Church’s protocol to kneel into the motion until one hand and knee are on the ground. Silence reigns for a few moments longer.
And then, that voice. Deeper than the abyss, darker than midnight, like nothing that could come from a living body.
“Bishop Lu Karai hath summoned us on thy authority. Congratulations art owed to thy ascension, Bishop Rai Ka. The Chapel is not in the habit of praising as lavishly as thy existing, living companions once has't, but this Holiest of Holies greets thee.”
“This lowly Bishop is honored,” she says, enunciating carefully. “However, the Holiest One is correct- my ascension isn’t worthy of celebration on such a scale. I called you here to revisit a conversation that I once had with this congregation, back when I remained the envoy of the Pack.”
“Doth thee not yet remaineth such an envoy, Bishop?”
She’s not sure if the added weight and style of speaking is something she’s picking up on now she’s more familiar with Death-senses, or if that’s just the consequence of them being called rather than waiting patiently. Either way, it takes her a moment to “translate” the archaic wording each time the greatest of the corpses speaks.
“If I were contracted, or written as such, I would not deny it, Holiest, but my placement in the Pack was born of my strength of arm and will. While the latter remains, the former is lost to me, even as I progress through the learnings of the Church.”
“Then why have you summoned us, Bishop?” asks one of the corpses to the side, a Cardinal whose Death feels sharp and deep, like jagged rocks at the bottom of a long fall.
“It’s quite simple, fellow clergy,” Raika says, coming up out of the bow, standing to her full height. “I have called you here to tell you that you’re going to walk with me to war.”
If corpses could blink, most of the ones in the chamber would. Seo En-Hyun, off in his alcove, gives a little snort of amusement.
“As we has't hath said ere- the Fallen shalt dealeth with thy conflict if and at which hour we so chooseth. Preparations taketh tempus, and the End takes pri'rity above all.”
“I’m afraid, Holiest, that refusal is not amongst the options present.”
At that, a lot more Death enters the room.
Glorianna and Lu Karai both take hasty steps back, the radiation of collapse and decay filling the room like a spreading corrosion fast enough that she sees some of the metal on the noble corpse begin to rust. Seo En-Hyun leans back a bit in his alcove, the other corpses all around leaning back equally far, protected by the spells carved into the space but still suffering.
Her skin rots. There is no decay, no real consumption by bacteria or lesser life forms- yet it undergoes the process anyways, fermenting and oxidizing and digesting itself into nothingness.
Her eyes turn to slurry, and then mud, and then dribble out of what’s left of her face.
Her muscles dry, then crack, then calcify, then begin to turn to powder.
Her bones burn, aging decades in seconds.
The only part of her that remains are the anchors she has tied herself to, the needles that pin her metaphysical existence to reality and to a body. They rattle like sabers, some clattering against each other and against what’s left of her bones and guts, rapidly putrefying to nothing.
But she remains, and she remains standing.
Some of the runes she carved into herself shift in place, prepared spells activating or forming under her will, generating more corpse-flesh, anchoring her further, tying her Death to reality. Azaleas break through the soft earth around her, ivory and sable, glowing with power and meaning, blunting barely any of the aura pressing down on her but helping a little. Many of them start to break down, some of them rotting outright and leaving her control.
But she keeps standing.
As the aura beats down against her, she keeps adapting, finding the spells that work best of the ones she’s carved and modifying them, multiplying her defenses even as the corrosion unmakes them. She shifts the field of Death around herself, pushing her more impactful murders and suicides to the front to spare some of the lesser flowers- even as one whose petals are knives, perfect oblivion-black, gets closer to her with every second under the corrosion’s effects.
The aura annihilates her for what feels like days. They might be hours, might be minutes, might be seconds, but time seems to bend away from her, her awareness unbound from a brain turned to blackened sludge and hyperfocused on surviving.
She can’t move. She won’t move. Not one fucking step.
And eventually, it fades. Just as she feels the last of her defenses crumbling, as she senses some of her anchors beginning to wear down, as her field of Death falls petal by petal, the corrosion ebbs, pulling back and away from her.
Graciously, her audience allows her the minute and change it takes for her to reconstitute her body.
Her heart isn’t thundering. Her lungs aren’t heaving, begging for air. Her neurons, dead as they are, fire in response to her rather than the inverse. Even still, she feels the panic, the pain, the fear of feeling herself be unmade layer by layer like that.
She doesn’t let any of it onto her face. When her eyes finally regenerate, as blind as they ever were, she hasn’t moved an inch from where she was standing.
“If it’s any consolation, Holiest One, there is a suggestion I can make which might make all of this a bit more… palatable to you.”
She steps forward, out of her little corner of the chamber and towards its center. Her steps fail to echo, the supernatural silence enforced by spells older than her concept of history, but still she can feel how every impact is felt by every corpse in the room.
Every eye is on her. As it should be. As it needs to be, for this to work.
“In one week, I, the Bishops arrayed here with me, and the entirety of the city of Godsfall shall mobilize against each of your cities. We shall meet you on terrain you choose, be it a specific landmark or your cities themselves, and there, we shall war. Should any city vanquish our armies, force me to surrender, or, more likely, kill me to my End, you lose nothing save a few corpses that we needed to get out of storage anyways. You say that it takes time to start the engines of war? I agree. So we shall warm them first with our little games.
“And when I win, you follow me. You acknowledge that the outside world is knocking on your door now, not in a decade, not in a century, but now, and you will use the exercise I give us to wake your armies, your mages, your greatest weapons and most terrible Deaths. And you help me kill the Empire.”
“If I fail, for being so fucking arrogant as I surely am, then you eliminate a problem. When I win, you shall see the truth of what I say, get off your asses, and get to doing something useful.”
And then she turns and bows to the largest of the corpses. “Your Holiness.”
“Or we End you now.”
“Ah… if I may, Holiest-”
The corpse almost breaks its own neck turning to stare at Seo En-Hyun, who visibly flinches back from its gaze but does not back down. “A deal was struck, holiest. She’s earned my respect, and she’s grown to that in, what, a few months? I wouldn’t mind moving up the timetable.”
“And if it hastens the End, you brute?” A voice asks, one of the other corpses turning to add its glare to the largest among them. “You would have us waste strength on frivolous pursuits when the greatest adversary is knocking on our door?”
“And if it slows it, Matriarch?” Lu Karai says, peeking a step forward out from his alcove. “The Death of an empire is no small thing. Consider what we might take from such a Death, what we might carve from it. Cryptic Moons, orbiting bodies to the Cold Sun above? A great raising, one that might re-invigorate our quieter cousins?”
“Such debate is beneath us, and unseemly besides. The Holiest of Holies has't spoken. We prepareth, and waiteth f'r the right moment to striketh. To sweaty haste forward blindly is the w'rk of fools, of the living- we und'rstand the End, and we knoweth how to visage it.”
Raika looks up at the greatest of the corpses, her smile showing.
“Then I’ll take the kid with me to the Corpse Martyr.”
She doesn’t even see the attack coming. One moment, she exists, and the next, she’s back in the Cathedral above, sitting beside Li Shu and Jin.
Good. She wasn’t sure that she guessed right about that part.
Considering how they reacted the last time they brought up the Corpse Martyr, their focus on Jin, the way they tip-toe around the subject of the Pack… it wasn’t hard to put together parts of the puzzle. Impossible to get all of it, but enough to figure out their worries? Get a feel for some of the power plays? Compare the Holiest of Holies to Many-Mouths depth and scope, get an idea of what another Apex of the Pack from the corpse-magic side of things might look like?
She leans forward and stretches, popping joints of corpse-tissue and feeling veins of worms squirm and wiggle at the movement. Her left arm crackles, slowly transforming from unliving tissue to the Blacksteel prosthetic she tied to her being, and she feels the pinch of her anchors reforming inside of her new “true” body.
The beauty of backups. She’s happy she got a third body into circulation- she’s not strong enough to use three at once, but it wasn’t hard to guess that she wouldn’t come out with all her pieces.
“Did it go well?” Jin asks, looking up from where he’s been watching Li Shu meditate as she re-centers her damaged Core. She opens her eyes as well, though she looks haggard, her Sacrifice kept close to her body and back in its original forms.
Raika shrugs. “The church hasn’t exploded, no one’s tried to teleport you out or murder you just yet, and nothing’s triggered plan B. I think it’s going swimmingly. I’m thinking noodles for dinner, what do you think?”
Comments
Unwillingmainer
Raika is uniquely good at pissing powerful people off so they attempt to kill her, or worse. While at this point it's literally a part of her very being, her mouth is going to be the dead of her. Again.
Nora Kischer-Browne
Playing with wraithfire, here.
Nawks[The Butcher of Names,P.U.P]
This Raika courts and teases death. And this lowly butcher is captivated.
NateGreat
Love how Raika manages to get old and serene powers just angry enough to lose their composure. I'd call it playing with fire, but I think we're far beyond that now.
zetorian
Ah, the age old tactic. Compare the pridful lazy ass to their better. Very good
