Brent Stinebaker
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II-25 Power Above Despair
🕑 Added 2024-11-23 17:53:33 +0000 UTCAlright, I just want to know one thing. How am I supposed to sell this place? Because if I don’t, I’m going to be fused here forever! Forever! I—I got cursed into being a literal demon-gate after being accused of theft! Why did they give me community service doing this? I hate sales! I hate it! I hate it!
This place is unsellable.
Not only did it used to be the Inheritor's local branch building or whatever—not only that, but most of their families are still here, fused into some kind of nightmarish flesh abomination where their central portal was, screaming day after day! And I have to listen to them! I don’t even know what Mepheleon did to them. Entire families! Children!
The mound-flesh-thing can’t even die normally—it’s healing constantly. Nothing kills it. And fused into the portal, its connected to the foundations of the building as well. Merged with the architecture.
I mean, I know we’re in hell, but I’m not complaining about the cruelty. It’s just inconvenient. It’s really inconvenient. Yeah, it’ll be a miracle if anyone wants to buy. Dammit. I’m taking another billion off. Just under 99,999,999,999 Sins, see if there’s anyone who bites, but I doubt it.
I really, really doubt it.
Harbinger’s feeble mercies, this’ll take a miracle.
-Uete Lanten, Condemned Gatebearer and Seller of Unwanted Estates
II-25
Power Above Despair
"You know, I kind of hoped that the whole getting killed, getting blown up, getting attacked while I’m trying to rest, and constantly needing to keep up my guard thing would end after we left the Moongraves, but I see that I’m wrong. I see that I’m really, really fucking wrong!"
Mira Nocture, the elf Wei saved from the endless line within the Hearted Realm of Greed, grumbled to the others, and a series of deadpan concurrences followed from the other thirty-two survivors.
"I just want to make bread. I just want to make bread. I want people to stop attacking me," Gazgul the Orc Chef said, hyperventilating.
The Hivekin of the group, sporting a psionic crown of some kind, patted him on the shoulder with a massive bladed limb. "I feel your pain, quite literally."
They were gathered in Wei’s room, one of the few chambers that had suffered a relatively light amount of damage. Moments earlier, their bodies were disfigured, missing limbs and Essence-burned. However, a tide of radiant fire poured over them after obliterating the walls of each of their rooms. Their wounds were undone, bodies and attire reconstructed in an instant. The more coherent among their number swore they saw their supposed patriarch, Master Wei, as the source of the light. This, and the fact that Wei’s chamber remained relatively undamaged compared to the disintegrated chasm that was most of the other nearby hotel rooms, made them gather in the young master’s abode.
And there they stayed when the SegSec arrived, speaking among themselves, commiserating over shared misery. The broadcast declaring the terror attack repeated every few seconds, and a member or two from the group spoke to the lich currently latched over their doorway with their ribs. The metal skeleton, in response, said nothing, and instead just glared balefully. At least until it suddenly snapped free from the door and pulled away, allowing Wei and the others through.
After convening with Ellena briefly, they were released from the Tribulator’s custody. The SegSec fled back through the portal, muttering all the while about how “heads were going to roll when they found out.”
Bishop’s telepathic message lingered in Wei’s mind, but though he focused his Omniscience on Ellena discreetly, he couldn’t see anything wrong with her and was just glad she had returned. Despite the tragedy and losses they just suffered, Ellena’s return made Wei feel like things could change—would change.
After sending a message to Bishop saying he would be in touch to discuss “following settlements,” Wei continued down the hallway with his allies in tow. Liches embedded in doorways barked demands at residents, ordering them to surrender their Companions. The tension in Wei spiked as he kept his senses locked to each automaton of lust he noticed. They all marched into the portals in a unified recall. But no explosions followed.
The calm only fed Wei’s paranoia. In his Inventory was the assassin as well. He would need to spend some time questioning the lich. Would need to level up his Class as well—distribute his free points and examine his new doll-coat.
As they reached Wei’s room, the lich folded back against the spine that mostly ran a few meters overhead. Roggi needed to crouch to avoid them, and the Oathbearer grumbled throughout. He complained even more as the door-clutching lich didn’t bend back against the spine far enough.
As Wei entered his celestial flame-scarred room, he countered thirty-two. Only thirty-two. Roggi’s forgekin remained, standing in the garden away from the others. Just like with Roggi, their eyes snapped to Wei, and seemed to sense his Class Specialization Evolution as well.
The other disciples were mostly scattered smatterings of humans, with only a single orc, three elves, and a hivekin.
Wei grimaced at what his sect had been reduced too again. Again. A twisting ache shifted inside his stomach as he thought of how many there were, how he managed to get them out of the Moongraves… only for them to find unjust ends here.
Another insult. Another slap delivered by the Inheritors. By the Fathoms.
Curse it all…
Only two of the three elves he had saved from Mulver Groon still remained. They played a low, melancholy melody together by the staircase, one drawing a bow across a string, the other plucking at a harp. Part of their accompaniment was missing, gone forever.
The Shadow Archer looked lost. The lines on his face grew creased as he made eye contact with Wei and looked away. The orc chef and the Hivekin did their best to comfort each other. And they were among the more upbeat of the survivors.
The young master suffered several near-glares from his disciples, but they all feared him too much to raise their voices in dissent. Most of them were alive because of him anyway, and after his display of power, they knew he could take their lives if he chose.
Still, the expressions on their faces, the thinning of their numbers, were like a wound to Wei’s ego.
“A wound you should remember well,” Wei’s Shell spat in his mind. “This was your failing as well. The trespassers let you down, but you need more power—and so do they. A sect cannot be protected by a single man forever. They are lambs, while you... you are barely a wolf in this place of lions. There is much to do. Much, much more to do.”
Wei looked over his surviving disciples and wondered how he was going to start this address. He opened his mouth several times, but no words came. He didn’t know what to say to them. He didn’t know how to inspire them, how to take what was now bitterness and fear and channel it into something useful.
They weren’t like him. He knew that. He could taste it in the atmosphere. They were lost, broken, overwhelmed. Few among them were warriors to begin with—true warriors who liked battle for battle’s sake, who saw the martial ways as artistry and expression.
But thankfully, his words were unnecessary, for at the rear of his group of companions was Ellena—Lady Ellena. Resurrected. No dead like in the rumors.
As she stepped into the room, the atmosphere shifted slightly. Eyes widened. Whispers and mutters sounded. She pointed at the scar along her throat and simply laughed. "Hello, friends. It seems we’ve all suffered some tragedies in recent times."
A series of mutters greeted her. Several nodded.
Wei turned to stare at the former queen, and she looked to him for permission.
"May I speak to them, Ser Wei? If you will allow."
"Of course," Wei said, surprised.
Her request, though slight, reminded him of how much more powerful he was compared to her, yet he always felt a sense of inferiority. Perhaps it was her eyes, green and piercing, that reminded him of his mother. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a mother herself. Her position in society above his, her role as matron, slid into an open wound and took him off balance.
"Companions, disciples," Ellena began. "Friends, I see you all, and I see those of you that are no longer here. It pleases and pains me just the same.” A series of nods and muttered “thank yous” followed. “I, like you, had hoped that our lives would be easier. That we would be granted what we desired upon arriving in Preceptor’s Descent. Yet that is not the case.
"I hoped that our hunters would finally know when to stop. That our suffering would be at an end—or at least a temporary pause as we settled into this new and strange place. It is not to be. It is not."
Her voice was thick with emotion at the end, and she sounded genuinely troubled. "I will not assume anything of your pain, but I will tell you of mine if you would listen. I was once Ellena of Dawnrest. Queen to Dawnrest. My kingdom was taken from me by the fell hand of the Dying Queen and her Embraced."
A rising susurration of voices swept through the disciples, and Wei could already see her words having an effect. They knew of the Dying Queen. Some of them held the system host in equal disdain.
Ellena reached out and placed a hand on the back of her daughter’s neck. Agnesia towered over her by a full head now, but even so, the girl lowered herself and accepted the touch of her mother like a child.
"My daughter gave everything. She wounded her own heart, burned her own siblings, my sons who were turned from our family by foulest blood to save me. She has sacrificed, and so have you. So have all of you. And after all this, after all we’ve endured"—she looked at them, holding out a hand imploringly—"we still remain lost. We still remain scorned. Because this place, though now ruled by men, is a realm of sin and rot. A den of coldness."
Wei blinked uncertainly. She had started so well, but the mood was dropping quickly, her weariness and exhaustion showing.
Still, he didn’t interrupt.
Ellena was going somewhere.
He could feel it.
"So what do we do then?"
The orc chef spoke up, waving his hands. "Yeah, what do we do?"
Angelous’ Shadow Archer, stared on, a blankness behind his eyes. He was the only one left of his group.
Ellena turned away, her expression becoming resolute. "We do what Patriarch Wei has shown to us. Look upon him. Look upon the only reason you are here—the only reason I am still alive." She finished her words by pointing at the scar lining her neck. "If not for him, if not for my daughter, my friends"—she waved at Rafael and Roggi—"you would not be here.
“If not for their capacity to fight, to defy, to tear into our enemies, to find strength where there is none to find and to feed upon the wolves that wish to sate themselves on our blood, we would not be here. Without strength, without the desire to battle, to be powerful, we would not be here."
She looked at the gathered crowd. "I am tired. I am tired of weakness. I am tired of my fate being governed by another. And so is my daughter. And so is Wei." She turned to Wei, locking eyes with him. "Wei," she said. "Tell them. Tell them what has happened in your world. Tell them what has been taken from you."
Suddenly, the young master didn’t feel quite so powerful anymore. All the eyes were on him.
New gazes leveled at his person—pity, curiosity. They were taking him in as if he were a person as well. Sympathy.
Sympathy.
Oh heavens.
Everything he had lost...
“Control yourself,” the Shell muttered. “You are more than this. The past is merely a flame to fuel y
Wei swallowed and awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Yes, it was very… unfortunate."
Ellena winced, interrupting him. “Not the right words,” she sent.
Wei drew in a long breath. Honesty is needed, then. More details. "They murdered everyone I know. Everyone…" Wei began. His first came out more as a vicious snarl, escaping him to his own surprise.
Several of the disciples flinched back, but Wei continued. "My mother. She was slain. Everyone who trained me, slaughtered. Demons had them. My world was burned. And my father—" Wei bit his tongue to sate his rage. "My own father was a Trespasser. He was the one that killed my mothers. And he was just a pawn of the Inheritors. And my world was meant to be a sacrifice. An obstacle to be paved. Nothing more. Nothing more.”
Wei fell silent. It was all so absurd. The System hiding at the heart of his world—the only reason he was alive. Earth. Everything. How could any of this be justified…
It couldn’t.
He wouldn’t accept this.
He refused! "But I will not suffer this. I will not be mocked by the heavens. The Dying Queen. The Unfallen. The Inheritors. The Circles. They think us victims. But what is a victim? What is a victim? A victim is someone who could not fight back. Who cannot defy the heavens when a cruel fate befalls? But I am a cultivator. My chosen destiny is to spite the heavens. To go beyond all thresholds. To ascend past my limits.”
He looked at the others, his voice rising in intensity. "And that is what I can offer you. For so long we have struggled, we have fought. All we have done is fight for survival in desperation. You don’t even fully understand what a sect is—what we offer. I don’t blame you. I..."
He steeled his ego, prepared to strike his own pride. "I failed you. I am not a good patriarch. I barely know how to be one. But I know how to fight. I know what it means to cultivate. To seek strength. To achieve mastery. I know. And so can you. I can teach you. Guide you. Give you whatever power your potential possesses. I cannot lie..."
Wei fell silent for a moment. "I cannot lie. I cannot predict the future. And I might not even be able to protect you. But it matters not anymore. This place... it wishes to feed on us. If not with me, then you will need to find another powerful benefactor in the Circles. But they don’t care about you, either.
“They would use you as foot soldiers in the Base, leading endless wars for their own benefit. You would be little more than chattel. Slaves. Or workers to exploit. You are not the powerful. Your whims will be decided by another."
He clenched his fist, the weight of his words settling on him. "Not with me. No. I will not take this insult. I will not allow you to be weak. I will have you be—" He tried to find the words. "Capable of ruling over yourself. Of living your own lives. I am no meager petty tyrant. I am, I am..."
Wei’s speech faltered. He ran dry… he didn’t know where to go, what more he could say.
"A boy," Ellena said. Her voice cut through the silence. She stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the disciples. "A boy stands before you. A boy clawing at being a man. Forcing himself to be more. Look upon him. He is not divine. He is not impossible. See your son in him. Your brother. Your neighbor. See all that—and what else he’s become. What else you can become."
The room was silent as Ellena continued, her voice steady and commanding. "The impossible has already been achieved. We reached here without indenturing ourselves. So of course we will be attacked. So of course we will be hounded. Because that would be your fate regardless. Used within or used without, the Circles have no love for us. We are merely numbers. Resources to spend.
“And the Inheritors? They would see you all dead. Dead for their own religious fervor. And so I ask you not to trust in anything else but yourself. Because we wish to build that trust. To grow your strength. This sect is our fortress. Our only recourse. We have only endured together, thrown together despite our choices. Nothing else is a slow suicide. I have seen this."
She paused, her shoulders tense. She pointed to her neck, to the scar that marked her near death. "The Harbinger has shown me things. Told me truths. He gave me an offer. Said that death would be an even more desirable path than the pain I would face. But I rejected him."
Ellena glanced at her daughter, her expression softening. "I rejected him for my daughter," Agnesia stepped closer to her mother, biting her lip to stop from crying. "I rejected him for Wei. Because he still needs me.” The young master forced his face to be a stone, the Shell watching him intently for any hint of weakness. "For all of you. Because you still need me."
Her voice softened, her hands trembling slightly. "And now, I need you. I need us to stay together. Because only, only that way will we ensure a path forward. I have no right to ask or demand anything of you. So take this as a plea. Take this as my most genuine truth."
Silence overcame the room. The disciples, though still sullen, no longer appeared overwhelmed. Instead, the words of the former queen were settling in, taking root, becoming a new foundation within their spirits. There was fear too, but now, there was also understanding.
"Man, I just wanted to bake," the orc chef said, sagging with weariness. "But this world won’t let me, so damn it, I’m going to find a way! I was never accepted! I just wanted to be myself! I got exiled for having no interest in war, and now, even here, I can’t be a baker? No! I’m going to be! I’m still alive, so I’m going to be!”
"I am Eekon the Aberrant," the Hivekin said, their mind buzzing as they spoke. "I was exiled by my hive for wishing peace instead of war. I fled to escape my own execution for aberrancy, only to find myself forced back into violence to preserve my own virtues. I will choose my fate. I will choose my own fate. I choose strength. I choose strength. I choose strength. To find my desired peace.”
A chorus of voices rose in agreement, a chord of unity swelling in the chamber. Wei’s eyes widened as he watched.
“Look at how Ellena managed to turn the mood,” Wei’s Shell said taking in the scene. “She used despair against despair and found a flicker of unity within it. This too is mastery.”
Wei exhaled slowly, feeling a flicker of gratitude. She possesses much that I still have to learn.
“True,” the Shell muttered. “You are fortunate that she has survived. You are also fortunate that the Harbinger has been so merciful to you. But you should remain wary. They play their own games, Wei—games you are not privy to. Games you cannot understand.”
The Shell’s voice grew darker. “You have witnessed the endgame of the Inheritors and the Lodge. Earth is at the center of all things. It is best for you to learn about this world—and about your final goal.”
Wei let out a breath. His tasks seemed to be compounding more and more.
"Wait!" the shadow archer suddenly said, his voice breaking the calm.
Everyone turned to look at him as he raised a trembling hand.
"I—I choose strength and all that. Don’t want to die or anything. But..." He frowned, his gaze flicking uneasily toward the door. "We’re not staying here? Are we? Because… because… you know…”
"No," Wei said. "After what just happened… after how the Lodge failed us, after what one of their number did, we stand alone. We move.”
"Right," the Shadow Archer muttered, nodding slowly. "So… Where, then? Where are we going now?”
Wei opened his mouth to reply, but he paused. That was a good question. What were they going to do? What were they going to do? Where were they going to live?
Once again, Ellena came to the rescue, stepping forward to steady the uncertain mood.
"I have been given a recommendation," the queen said slowly, her voice commanding attention. "It is a surprising one, something that the Harbinger told me after his ministrations." There was a faint, almost amused smile pulling at her lips. "However, there is a karmic justice to it, he said. I suspect it might please some of you to know that the Inheritors’ local branch has been all but annihilated."
Wei turned sharply to study her, his eyes narrowing. He had a feeling where she was going but wasn’t sure. He couldn’t quite believe it.
"Well," Ellena continued, "they had a building in this local den. A consulate, as it were, in the area. One of many scattered across the Claimed Hells. And now it stands vacant after the Harbinger completed his cleansing. I think we should inquire about purchasing the establishment."
Wei’s eyes widened further. The Harbinger claimed he was entirely done culling the Inheritors. Ellena was quoting the Harbinger’s words. “Yes… I see the appeal, but are the grounds… secure? And what is the cost?”
“Cost will not be an issue,” Rafael muttered. “You’re a… a…” The lich gagged as he said the next words. “Billionaire. You can afford a great many things.” He paused. “Oh, gods, Bishop is a billionaire. I am truly in hell…”
"It has been entirely sealed," Ellena said. “A gatekeeper has been assigned to the location and will keep it under watch until someone finally purchases the premises. The Harbinger said something about the facilities being damaged, but still present… They have taken much from us. Perhaps we can take something back.”
She was right. There was karmic justice in the idea. However, Wei couldn’t help feeling uneasy. He also had another idea—potentially settling everyone within the Tower of Possibility. But after the Trespassers’ failings, he wasn’t sure if he wanted any of his disciples near the Lodge or their machinations anytime soon.
So. What else was there to do? What else, but to take from a group that has already stripped him of so much? “Very well, then. Let’s go see about claiming a new home for ourselves.”
Comments
Cosmoros Subs
Its just where you had the future message about that if she didn't die. On one hand it can be that she is not dead but will die. But because of POV from Meph we know that he didn't ressurect her.
Brent Stinebaker
There's something funny in the background happening. I'll consider this, but there's also something else...
Cosmoros Subs
Ngl you should remove the part where you said that she died. It would be more interesting. Like rn we all know she is not alive.
Brent Stinebaker
TTF now +1 chapter in fated territory.
