Brent Stinebaker
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36-2 Theaters of the Last War (I)
🕑 Added 2025-05-30 19:22:10 +0000 UTC{Refusal to all Bleaks: Assemble the Deep Ones of Time. We need a concentration of force. Peel the path open. We cannot allow the Prefect to fall into the hands of the Dreamer—and we must not allow the Infacer to assume the mantle.
Prepare the False-Vacuum Bombs as well. We do whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes.}
-EGI Contingency Bleak Refusal
36-2
Theaters of the Last War (I)
—[Avo, The Hidden Flame]—
A dense fog burned away the confusion that enshrouded Osjon Thousand. He returned to himself, as if rising back into his body after the destruction of his mind or a hallucinatory spiral brought on by strong drugs. As he looked around, he found himself sitting on a seat in a white expanse, his only daughter across from him.
She stared at him expectantly, swallowing before she spoke. “Father…”
“Osjane?” Osjon said. He blinked and looked up. To his surprise, he saw the realm of the Seraph greeting him. But there was something wrong—the pillars were broken and shattered, and the fires were of a tainted, foul color. Worst of all, there was no one there in attendance, and the space Osjon himself typically occupied was taken up by a monster. A ghoul. Something made in mockery of the human form, but could never match mankind’s true potential.
The Speaker of Highflame knew this ghoul. This was their great enemy, the reason why the High Seraph was taken from them. This was the Burning Dreamer’s original form here to taunt him.
“Speak to your daughter, Osjon. There will be plenty of time for greater pains later.”
“Do not speak down to me, abomination,” Osjon spat. He rose from his seat and tried to manifest his Heaven. It failed to materialize. He tried again, and though he could still feel his Liminal Frame, it was like his thoughts weren’t reaching his Soul. Something was blocking him off. But that should be impossible.
“Talk to your daughter,” Avo said again, chuckling softly. “Stop wasting time. Most of my templates think I am too kind already. Too kind to offer you this. But frankly… I think I’m being rather cruel after all.”
Osjon didn’t know what the monster was saying and didn’t bother to listen.
“Osjane. We are to escape.” He looked to his daughter after casting a final sneer at the ghoul. But the girl didn’t rise with him. He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“There’s no way out,” she said, her voice soft and scared. “Father… it is over. He has taken us.”
Osjon blinked. He went through several other expressions as he tried to process what his daughter just said to him before he settled on scorn. “What is this? A deception? A trick of the mind? My daughter would never breathe such pitiful words. Who are you?”
Osjane opened and close her mouth, but it was the ghoul who spoke. “I told you. He would not listen. He is a child wearing the skin of a man. He is a thug wearing the skin of a warrior. But he will defy me. He thinks It's for Veylis. Not true. She is the delusion. The excuse. He will defy me because his ego cannot accept it otherwise. He cannot lose. He has lost his entire life. Another defeat will shatter him for good. Or force him to change.”
“Speak not to me, monster,” Osjon sneered. He looked up at Avo and laughed. “What is this? I am wise to your ways—your tricks and lies. You might be a beast of the mind, but you find my will—”
“It is lacking. You are lacking. Have always been. See why Naeko thinks so little of you now. See why you were so low in his eyes. You stand as the truest liar here, Osjon. You tell yourself you have control. But you do not think of how your life already belongs to me.”
“Enough of this.” Osjon strained himself again, trying to call his Heaven. “If there was any mettle to you at all, you would face me as a Godclad. In proper battle.”
“If you were a Godclad worth your Frame, you would not have fallen to mere thaumaturgy.” The monster had the audacity to grin. Osjon fumed.
“Father—” He lashed out, striking the false image of his daughter. She cried out in alarm as she flinched back—more in shock and terror than pain. He struck her twice more, cursing her in place of his actual daughter.
“Useless! Useless! Useless! Even if you were her, you were useless. All that effort spent on you, all that thaumaturgy and training, and you couldn’t kill a simple ghoul. A monster from the gutters. What was the point of you?”
She bit her lip, but again, it was Avo who spoke for her. “You accuse her of something you failed to achieve as well. And you don’t listen. She speaks the truth. You are trapped now. Trapped within my mind. Broke the Ashbringer’s hold on you a few moments ago. Unleashed a counter virus. The rest of the Saintists will be freed as well. Well. They will be taken into my mind like you. Their Frames will be seized for use. Their vessels will be replaced with loyalists to the Symmetry. I thank Veylis for this donation once more.”
“This… this is impossible.” Osjon turned away from his daughter and poured hate out from his eyes at the ghoul. “We were… we—”
“The Infacer got tired of you. Tired of your incompetence. Tired of politics. He used a version of me to subsume you. The Ashbringer. He is currently building to a point of no return as well. The Rend will kill him. But it has allowed me access to you first. And I wanted you to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That you do not matter. That you no longer matter. That you never mattered. In the grand battle. In life. This is between me and Veylis. Our beliefs. Our dreams. And now I stand in preparation to face whatever results from my twisted union with her. You were but a figurehead. Something she used to nourish her ego. Can’t tell why she kept you otherwise.”
With each word, Osjon shook with greater rage. “Damn you! Godsdamn you, monster. She will judge you in time. No matter what becomes of me, she will bring you back to the Hall of Seraphs and—”
“There will be no more hall. No more courts. No more debates. No more philosophy. There will only be the ones who decide. The ones that choose. And the ones who can ensure their will remains. Their will, and no one else’s. The final war looms. And you will only be a spectator. Within me. Don’t worry. I will find a proper use for you. Another thing Veylis couldn’t do.”
“I refuse. Kill me. Destroy me. But I will not serve.”
Suddenly, Avo was in front of him—looming over him as Osjon had loomed over so many others during his time as Speaker. Veylis’ second snarled. He reached out to strike the monster, to break them with fist and grip. But he couldn’t reach Avo. His body wouldn’t respond. Impossibly, he felt a will usurp his own as he was made to slap himself. As he slapped his own daughter. And he did it over and over and over.
“Stop this!” Osjon shouted between slaps. “Stop it! I will not be demeaned this way.”
Then, Avo reached down and slapped him. The blow nearly knocked him off his feet. The ghoul just chuffed with amusement. “As if what you want matters. Choice. I love giving people choice. I want people to be free. Absolutely free. But I suspect you despise that. You won’t even let yourself be absolutely free. Your dream is for a desired mistress to hold your chain and tell you good dog.”
The ghoul shook his head, as if he was looking at something tragic. “The first mistress was called Zein. She kept you as a pet for her daughter’s amusement. But you thought you were capable of earning her respect. This is not your fault. Zein is no better than you. She is a child too. But she is a pure warrior. She is as close to violence incarnate as a human can get. And you… were just a wounded boy hoping for invincibility.”
“Stop it,” Osjon said. A tear fell down his face, and he never hated anything in that moment more than he hated himself. ‘Stop talking…”
Avo didn’t. “You cannot choose what I want to do. Not now. I will let you free later. You may live among the templates. Do whatever you want. But right now… I want to break you. And I want to prepare you for a few people. If Maru is still alive. If the Paladins you helped kill still have grievances.
“Absolute freedom should be paired with absolute consequence. You have fled your entire life from what was coming. And now I have finally found you.”
Osjon was whimpering like a wounded child. Everything he knew, everything he thought himself to be was unraveling inside him. The ghoul knew. It could see into every wound left on his mind–opened old ones Osjon thought mended. “You cannot do this to me.”
“Again. You say that. But I just want you to learn. To accept. And you just want to win. So I will tell this to you from the perspective of Highflame: The strong do what they must, and the weak suffer what they will. Now. I am done with you. But the others are not. There is someone that wants to speak with you—has been threatening me this entire time.”
“What? Who? Who wishes to speak to me.”
“Oh, he doesn’t want to speak exactly. Not really. You will understand soon.”
And then there was a new presence beside Osjon. A massive hand—powerful and crushing—seized the Speaker by the arm. Slowly, the man Osjon once called his senior brother under Zein and Chief Paladin of New Vultun stepped into view. “Hey, pussy,” Naeko grinned. “Been a while since we did this. Tell me—you still remember Zein’s first lesson?”
“No—no! Let me go, you mongrel beast! Let me—”
Naeko closed his hand. Osjon’s arm came apart with a sickening snap. The Speaker cursed and tried to jab the Chief Paladin in the throat—only for Naeko to cave Osjon’s nose in an explosion of violence.
Osjon toppled back, clutching at his mangled face. “Oh, no…” Naeko laughed as he sauntered next to Osjon, his gait comparable to a leisurely stroll. “Oh, no, no. Fuck, Osjon… You really let yourself go. I mean, there wasn’t much to begin with but… Well, Zein let you watched for a reason. You had such want but no actual skill. You were a moth drawn the fire. And now you’re not even that.” The Chief Paladin snorted. “She really makes us less than who we are, huh?”
“Do not—do not speak that way about her!” Osjon screamed. “You are unworthy of—”
Whatever else he had to say ended when Naeko wrapped his large hand around Osjon’s head. “Yeah. We’re not having this conversation with words. Stand and deliver, half-strand.”
The Chief Paladin made music with Osjon’s body. He made music as he broke the poor fool and over and over. Osjon tried to hold to his dignity—in his mind, he recited that he was a warrior, that he would never break. But that was a great lie. Osjon was only an admirer. And someone who lied to himself. After a certain point, the humiliation exceeded his tolerance first, and the Speaker of Highflame began to cry and beg.
Avo stood next to Osjane and sighed. He leaned down before he spoke to the girl. “You might hate me now. But I’m doing something good for you. Something my father did for me. You must kill your ideals to see them for who they are. You must kill your heart and let it resurrect before you can face the world. There is no truth otherwise. There is only the deception.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes and a red-mark on her face. Osjane wanted to say something, but no words came out. Osjon wanted to make her a warrior in tribute to Veylis. Her genetics, implants, and Heavens were unparalleled. But she didn’t have the experience, and her being was blind to the colors of the world.
A shame. But she would learn. And she would be who she wanted to be in time.
“A warrior cannot lie to herself, girl,” Avo said. “Seek out Naeko when he is done. Or Zein. Preferably Draus. I don’t know if your father wants to be saved. You… you still have eternity.”
Osjane looked on as her father howled in despair. He tried to fight back against Naeko. He really tried. But again, Osjon at his heart was a hurt and angry boy; Naeko was also that but so much more. He was rage. He was violence. He was skill. Like Zein said, what hope could a worm have of slaying an eagle.
Avo receded from Osjon’s mind and sought out the others. There were other Seraphs for him to greet and break as the Ashbringer’s influence. By this point, their Heavens weren’t so impressive, but every thaum was going to count in this war, and he was going to take as much of Veylis’s toys away as possible before her inevitable return.
The Dyad would unify. But it would do so with its kingdom pre-sacked.
***
Tendrils of gold extended out from members of the cadre—especially the Sang. Avo reached out using Brilliant Orchard, Green River, and the others, painting the Deep Ones with his influence. He began the process of moving them across dimensions, into This Place Above. He would need to keep them far away from the people—but they wouldn’t stay long.
Voidwatch was likely scrambling more Deep Ones of their own. Avo was going to give them more problems before they could focus on the Trinary Melody.
+Deep Ones secure,+ Dice said. +What is next?+
+You come back first,+ Avo said. +All of you. I’m probably going to drop you back in the city. Need you to find some people. Unify others. We are getting out from the Substance. Cannot stay much longer.”
The Runebreaker looked around in confusion. +Why?+
She couldn’t feel it, but everything as growing increasingly clear to Avo. The tapestry was growing tighter here, with every pattern drawing closer to each other—causality, conceptualization, and chronology becoming as if one. +Because the Substance has matured. The Dyad will be reborn soon. Best not be here when the Tiers hatch. We engage when ready. We engage at our own advantage.+
Dice accepted things, but didn’t move on. +Can I go to the sun?+
+Where Draus is?+
+Yes. I don’t think I want to be here. I don’t like it here. The city. The people. I’d rather be with you. Or Lucky. Or Draus.+
Avo grunted. +Maybe. Will know if it’s safe soon. For now… need to buy our people there and the dragon a bit more time.”
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Brent Stinebaker
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