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Chapter 58: Dire Warnings.
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 13:21:03 +0000 UTCChapter 58: Dire Warnings.
The interior of the manse was as richly decorated as a royal palace. Gilded columns standing proud from atop polished marble floors. Vast sections of that very same floor held vast rugs with inlaid scenes of hunt and battle. The heroes portrayed therein having a vast selection of weapons and armor as they faced down familiar looking monsters.
It would have seemed a little bit cool, if it weren't for their faces.
Indeed, those woven visages could best be described as very, very loose interpretations of what I looked like. Kind of how old timey painters would take commissions to make their patrons as good as humanly possible without crossing into the realm of outright fantasy.
My own face could be described as average. Maybe slightly above average if one didn't mind the nose or the thin lips.
In contrast, the people portrayed in those rugs could have starred in a John Gardens movie in a leading support role.
It was a level of vanity and self-indulgence that was, frankly, off-putting.
"Oh come on. Don't be like that!" The Drake called out from another room. "I think it looks great! Based on my understanding of human beauty standards anyway. Why, you look positively dashing in those rugs!"
It, he.
I was getting the impression that he was indeed a he these days; came over to where I was standing. Dressed head to toe in what I could only describe as mid-life-crisis standard wear for a single divorced dad. Complete with a leather jacket so fine that no one in their right mind would wear it while riding a motorcycle and boots that screamed loudly of low self esteem and barely-supressed desperation.
"And why wouldn't we celebrate your heroic image? After all, you finally got what you've always wanted. You are the undisputed hero of the hour! The best man around! The one guy children look up to and say to themselves: 'Wow, I really want to be that guy when I grow up!' Ah! And you cut such a dashing figure too. Practically oozing confidence and bravado as all those cave-dwelling losers cheered you on! Truly. You sir, have no equal."
I blinked. Multiple times in quick succession. Wondering if I could perhaps find a knife sharp enough for stabbing in the kitchen.
"Nope. You will find no such thing. I checked. This mental landscape of yours is sadly devoid of rudimentary weapons. Lots of food though! I'm really starting to get a deep appreciation for human cuisine. I don't know if you've realized it yet, but most species in the Labyrinth hardly ever season their food. A tragedy, if you ask me. So much wasted potential for an activity that just about everyone will be repeating for as long as they're alive. Why, I always make sure to enjoy my meals to the fullest. To live like it's my last day alive."
I said nothing. Unable to know whether these were his true feelings and, frankly, not caring either way.
"Well, don't you look glum." The Drake said. Giving off a capricious, carefree smile while he sat. Lounging back on a thick, fluffy couch.
“So what if your teammate is angry at you? So what if [Insight] isn’t completely perfect all of the time? What is life without a few hiccups, am I right? Besides, it isn’t as if you committed some great sin or something. You had adoring fans. Fans whose entire way of life you changed for the better. It is only natural that they’d want to… how you say, get to know you a little better. Why, someone powerful getting that sort of treatment is practically blasé out in the greater Labyrinth. Don’t worry too much about it.”
I gave him a sideways glance, but said nothing. Instead opting to go right out the door and into the gardens outside.
Only, the gardens weren't there.
In fact, there was nothing there, except the now familiar ruins of what used to be Paris. With less vegetation and more howling mutant fireflies. Locked in endless combat against shades of faceless humans screaming and scattering like leaves in all directions.
I stared for a few more seconds, and closed the door without another word.
"Huh. I really did think you'd be surprised." The Drake quipped. Having stretched his neck to the length of an anaconda so that he could peer over my shoulder without having to actually move from his seat.
I could only shrug in response.
"I've seen a lot over the past few weeks. I guess I'm getting used to it. Besides, they're like the birds I could hear chirping off in the distance the first time I came here. Background noise. Nothing more."
"Ooooh. How very exciting. The hero remains stalwart. Unshaken by the visions seeking to tear him down."
The mounting annoyance finally started to get the better of me then.
"Do you have a problem with the way I did things?"
His head staggered backwards. Dramatically reeling as if re-enacting a play.
"Why, you wound me, Sully. I don't have any issues with the way you handled things. On the contrary! I'm overjoyed that you finally started seeing things my way!"
"No." I said simply. "I am not seeing things in any kind of way. All I did was kill a few monsters and make that world safer for the humans living in it."
The Drake's smile went from whimsical to predatory within half a heartbeat. His human-like teeth sharpening into needle-like fangs.
"Monsters, is it? Pray tell, how would you classify a monster?"
"What kind of question is that? A monster is a monster. It's a super-powered animal that goes around mindlessly killing people."
'Yes!" The Drake hissed. Revelling in the moment. "That word right there. Mindlessly. That is the crux of what most people consider a monster. But the creatures you killed were not monsters, were they?"
I scoffed.
"Of course they were. Look out the window and see for yourself! A bunch of humanoid mutant fireflies going around in swarms and irradiating everything they come across? I don't know if I could dream up a better example of a monster on the spot."
"Tut-tut Sully." The Drake said, wagging an elongated finger. "You know better than that. Those fireflies were not merely human-like in their appearance. They were also similar to humans in the way they thought. They had fully sentient minds. Capable of a full range of emotions. Of love, of comradery, of compassion. And you went in like the good little hero that you are and decimated them to the point where they might as well be extinct. For no other reason than because you wanted to and because you could."
I rolled my eyes so hard I feared they might pop out of my skull.
"Really? Is this what we're doing now? Aren't you playing the creepy villain a little too hard? Going all: 'You and I are more alike than you know, Thunder Fist! Muahahahah!' I mean, what's next? Are you going to pretend that you care about people from your own species the way I care about other humans?"
That elongated head shook from side to side. Quite a feat, given how extended the muscles of its neck were.
"Sully, Sully, you're missing the forest for the trees. This is no act and I am not trying to trick you. I am genuinely happy that you're taking the initiative to bend the world to your will."
"No. Do not start with that."
"Sully! You aren't listening! I don't need to start anything! It was all you! You're the one who immediately completed the Excursion and decided to go above and beyond those requirements. You saw a sentient species doing something that displeased you and so you decided to eradicate them. To hunt them down to the fullest extent that your mighty powers would allow and wipe them from the face of a world you and your species had claimed for themselves. You had a clearly defined goal and you used your own mind, your Psy, the manifestation of your will, to bend the world until it turned into something that pleased you. That, if anything, is the mark of a true Esper."
I rolled my eyes again.
"Okay. So I killed a few monsters. Big deal. Anyone would have done the same in my shoes."
The Drake giggled, in a manner much too feminine and childish for its chosen form.
"Believe you me. Not everyone would have had the stomach." It paused, tilting its head slightly.
"Though I suppose it is hard to see from your perspective. In that case, allow me to present you with an example. Say that there exists a colony of vagabonds and vile, ruthless killers. Ones that actively destroy communities of innocent cave dwellers trying to survive. They do not see themselves as criminals. Rather, raiding is their culture. Both sides are human and neither side will compromise or show mercy to the other. What do you do?"
"Easy. I'd find the leaders and sit them both down. I would them force them to compromise and to sort out a peace. With the existing crimes being punished by a court system made up of third parties or, if that's not possible, then peers from a mix of both parties."
"Oh? You would force them to compromise? How?"
I sighed. Quite sick of these mind games by now.
"Not by using [Domination], if that's what you're insinuating. I would find a way to get them to agree with each other. I'd share heir memories if necessary."
"So you would fundamentally change who they are? Their culture and their way of life? Just so you can feel good about yourself?"
I stiffened, but only for a moment.
"We've been over this already. Getting people to communicate better is not the same thing as brain-washing."
"Is that the way of it? Then, pray tell, why did you turn off an ability as useful as [Charming Presence II]? I may not be a Telepath, but I did spend an awful lot of time studying the intricacies of other Types. That particular ability is an ace most young masters out in the Labyrinth struggle to get. It is singularly useful in everyday life for many, many self-evident reasons. Chief among them being the fact that it is extremely difficult to defend against, since it most people won't even realize they're being affected by Psy. On the contrary, most fools below the Second Tier will attribute its effects to the user's own overflowing charisma. You could have used such an advantage for all sorts of things."
"That's different." I waved him off. "That power changes how people see me."
"And you don't think sharing memories and forcing them to live through your experiences does that?"
I, didn't have a ready answer for that.
"Oh don't make that face Sully. Like I said, I was congratulating you. You disliked the fireflies and you did away with them. You wanted approval from your fellow humans and you found a way to get it in a way that wouldn't leave you reeling with guilt. You wanted love and to be loved and you got a good helping of both in spades. The Excursion didn't say anything about eradicating the threat the fireflies posed or strengthening that little community by giving them powers. That was all you. You chose to do all of that. In other words, you remade the world into one that fit your vision. Your own personal principles, and that is what being an Esper is all about."
I sighed. Seeing where he was going, but utterly beyond caring.
“Okay. You got me. I have an idea of what the greater good is and I’m willing to bend the rules a little bit in order to get there. Big deal. It isn’t like I’m going around mind-controlling people left and right and don’t you start with the whole slippery slope argument.”
I pointed at him.
“Every single thing you’ve said about sharing memories could apply to normal dialogue. Talking is a way to communicate ideas and, sometimes, you change the way people think. Yeah, sometimes you change people notions of fairness and sometimes you change their cultures, but that’s just normal societal advancement. Throwing lighting from your fingers would see you labelled as a witch or worse a couple hundred years back and Shifters, well, they’re still pretty despised, but not as much as they were during the first outbreaks. Things change. Ideas evolve. People naturally drift towards cooperations and pro-social behaviours because they are naturally good.”
The Drake gave me a pout.
“And you see no problems with sharing memories then? You see it as, how would you say it? Enhanced communication?”
“More or less.” I admitted. “It’s letting others see things from my perspective and letting them understand where I’m coming from. Like back at that cave. Imagine having to explain what the Tutorial is and how I came to have these powers to those guys. They might have accepted it readily at first, but a lot of them weren’t too happy with the fact that I wasn’t staying. By sharing memories, I prevented misunderstandings and kept things civil. All while prepping the way for other visits to that world. People will tell others about how the Luminescent Parade fell and they’ll know what to expect in the future. It just makes sense to do it this way.”
The Drake’s smile widened.
“Not the conclusion I would have derived, but close enough, I guess.”
His neck shrivelled back to normal proportions and he walked over to where I was standing.
“With that in mind, I would like to present you with three arguments as to why you should be actively merging with me.”
“Oh golly. I can’t wait to hear them.” I deadpanned.
He laughed again.
“Now now. I will have no sourpusses in this house. It’s not as if I’m trying to trick you, after all. These lessons are all for your benefit.”
He took a seta once more, this time lounging upright in an armchair facing a coffee table.
“Let us begin with the simplest one. The fact of your, survivability.”
I shrugged. Not really having anything to say to that.
“I know being a Shifter or and Enhancer would help me, Drake. I know that Buddy’s protections only goes so far. That’s why I’m trying to get the Types by training.”
“A feat you shall never, even accomplish.” The Drake said. With all the self assurance and gravitas of a college professor teaching calculus to an inebriated frat boy after a long weekend.
“Most people out there in the Labyrinth only have one Type anyway. Never breaking into the second Tier. In fact, most plebs never make it past level 30 at all and the ones who do struggle to reach 50. The Labyrinth is wrought with danger and opportunity in equal measure, but only for those willing to reach out and risk life and limb. Improving oneself from the relative safety of a gym or sparring arena is, to put it mildly, nigh impossible. Even for the scions of great houses. That is why so many patriarchs and matriarchs opt to have large broods of children. On average, less than one in five will make it past the second Tier and those who remain alive while on the first might as well be dead, in so far as their relatives are concerned. Every species is different, but this is a trend that remains true for most. Only through risk, pain and sacrifice can someone make it to the top.”
I nodded slowly. Not really seeing a problem with these revelations. After all, I’d already spoken with Peachy at length and I also had the notes Orphan Maker gave to Mr. Park to fall back on. These were not really news.
“So, you’re saying that I should give in and absorb you because the alternative would be working very hard. I have to say, it’s not doing it for me. I’m already training way past the point of exhaustion and I know that’s not going to end anytime soon.”
“And all that struggle will have been for naught.” The Drake insisted. “I know this because I have lived through it. The same as the version of you trapped in the Sarcophagus. Don’t you think he would have re-grown his body if he’d been able to? Don’t you think he would have opted to fix himself? Why do you think he felt desperate enough to parlay with me? Someone who could have killed him in seconds if I so wished?”
The Drake shook his head form side to side. Donning an expression of exasperation.
“No. This stubbornness will get you nowhere and the lack of a second Type will leave you vulnerable. Not just to stronger, more experienced enemies, but also to natural phenomena. How do you think you would handle being dropped in the middle of an earthquake? What about a meteor impact? Or a flood? Or, I don’t know, an artic tundra? Do you think your Symbiote could keep you alive?”
I, had to give that to him. Buddy was great and he would absolutely do his best to keep me alive as long as possible, but I had no illusions that it could be enough to live through a natural disaster. In that, at least, the Drake had a point.
“Okay. Let’s say I agree with that. It’s still not enough for me to agree. The System has thrown me at things I can more or less handle so far and the times I got hurt was because I overextended myself.”
“That might be the case for now, but it won’t last forever.” The Drake warned. “The System does not scale Excursions in the way that you think. If it senses an event that must be interfered with, it will merely throw out the strongest teams it has available for any given species. In the case of humanity, that would most certainly be you. It is only a matter of time until you’re thrown over to the deep end.”
He raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender.
“But, for the sake or argument, let us say that this isn’t enough. I will then move on to the second reason why you should listen to me. The fact that, as you are now, you’re placing yourself and any world you step onto in danger.”
I had to blink at that. Struggling to get his meaning.
The Drake noted this and clicked several tongues in annoyance.
“Please, you can’t tell me you’re that blind. I’m speaking about [Unstable Reality] and whatever derivatives might follow.”
“Oh. That.” I leaned back against a pillar. Thinking back to the things Cherub had said.
“Yeah. I can see why you might be nervous. But I don’t really feel threatened by him. He means well.”
The mask of humanity slipped and for a brief second, the predator was back. Feline fangs poking out from between human lips as a low growl leaked from his throat. He caught himself half a second later, but the visage was hard to forget.
“You fail to understand my meaning. Perhaps due to your own, skewed perceptions or perhaps due to your lacking education.”
He tied his hands together in a pensive pose and maintained it as he leaned in.
“Tell me, Sully. What do you think Telepathy is?”
“Uh, reading and affecting people’s minds. Obviously.”
I noticed the incongruity as soon as the words had left my mouth. Yes, Intruders were composed of thoughts and emotions so they could be described as mind-adjacent, yet it could not be said that they followed the regular pattern of what people considered Telepathy.
Yet the Drake nodded anyways.
“Yes. I see that you realized it now. There are common misconceptions in some species, that Telepathy somehow involves catching and interpreting electrical signals from the nervous system. That could not be further from the truth.”
The Drake changed each of the fingers in its right hands into a miniature version of a medieval weapon.
“As you know, the flesh keeps no secrets from me. I can change my own nervous system or that of others with the merest flicker of will. Without even thinking about the act consciously. I have read minds before meeting you. By injecting spores into living subjects via the [Hijack] ability or a later evolution. Yet that was not true Telepathy. I could not leave the infected for more than a few hours without losing that bond. Moreover, my range was not greater than a few hundred metres. At Tier 10.”
He laughed in a self-depreciating manner.
“I am sure that you can appreciate the, inadequacy of such endeavours. It might have been mind-reading, yet Telepathy, it was not. What you do is tied to all of your abilities simultaneously. A more, expanded definition. Enhancers use Psy to solidify their cells or other matter. Projectors use their Psy to summon forth energies that might be found in any plane of reality. Both are siphoning those potentials from different places, yet neither can be said to be inhabited. The same goes for Shifters. The, shall we call it, Shifter realms are naught but raw will to live. I can feel then every time I heal. Every time I turn. The call to kill and eat and spread one’s kin across the world. There are no horrors there. No matter what some imbeciles might think.”
He pointed one of those armed fingers at me.
“Telepaths do not affect normal reality in the same way. What you do is more a manipulation of raw Psy, rather than any electrical impulses. When you use your for, what you’re doing is dousing others with your own, static Psy and reading the impressions you get back. Any devices strapped to the people you read will show no signs of manipulation among their nervous systems. Because that is not what you do. Similarly, any person you control will read as normal while under your control as well. They might show heightened levels of stress after being freed, but that is due to their reactions after the fact. What Telepathy does is channel that raw Psy, your raw Psy and mold it so that it can invade others. May they be animal, plant, fungi or even machine or whatever else might be around.”
He leaned in even closer.
“That leads us to the crux of the matter. Your Intruders. They are not, as you mistakenly believe, predictable friends. The dimension you’re calling them from is not a prime material one, so you cannot fathom what their existences have been like. Neither can they for that matter. The dimension Intruders come from, Pandemonium, is not empty as the others are. There are things there that would make my blood turn to ice. As old as life itself. They feed and are formed from the emotions off all living beings. From the smartest genius to the dullest micro-organism. They thrive in the chaotic soup that is this mesh. Being pulled apart and molded into fresh shapes by diverging thoughts from completely separate physical dimensions. Only finding succor in the few, destructive impulses that all living beings share. Impulses like selfishness, anger, lust, the will to cling to life, the hope that things will change, the plea that they will be better tomorrow. They do not know compassion, as sentients do. Foul as you believe me to be, I at least know of the concept and can appreciate how it feels.”
His eyes hardened. Staring daggers into my soul with a haunted expression. One that, I somehow knew was completely honest.
“I have fought Telepaths who indulged in these abilities before. All of them, to a fault, were utterly self-destructive. For the beings summoned from Pandemonium are incapable of relating or interacting with the material plane as we do. Unless they come from high-tiered abilities. Ones that allow them to form their own personalities.”
His transformed hand returned to its previous shape.
“And those are even worse. You see, time is very, very relative in Pandemonium. You may think something has already happened or will happen in five years, yet things from the past and future can present themselves at once. It is a phenomenon that the learned scholars of the Labyrinth refer to as the Early Dawn. Due to the fact that some of the ascended Divines, those who were proficient Telepaths first and foremost, had realms in Pandemonium before developing the abilities that would allow them to forge such realms. There, in the other side, it was as if they had always been Divines, even before they were born. Once they ascended, it was as if they had always been there as Divines. From the very beginning. Worse, they can send their most ardent believers to Pandemonium as well. Turning sycophants into Intruders after death so that they might do their bidding unto eternity. So, it is completely possible for you to open a small funnel and find yourself dealing with something from the court of Singing Steel. Trust me. You don’t want that.”
He leaned back in his chair with a solemn expression.
“By using abilities like [Unstable Reality] you are courting not only your destruction, but the destruction of entire civilizations. All it takes is one errant thought and the things that come through will devour planets whole before you can blink.”
I had to shake my head at that.
“Come on now. It can’t be that bad. I… uh.” I struggled to find the right words. “I have this feeling. This, certainty, that nothing I summon will really want to hurt me. I mean, come on. All of them are, stained by me. No, that’s not the right word. They are, affected greatly by what I believe in and what I believe in is peace for humans and death to gnomes. I want peace for humans and death to gnomes. Also, all the ones I’ve summoned see me as a sort of father figure.”
I threw my hands into the air. Realizing that I wasn’t making much sense.
“Look, it’ll be all right. Here, I’ll summon something to prove it.”
The Drake’s eyes literally popped out of his skull. His hands shooting forward with the kind of desperation only mortals could patriciate.
“NOOOO!!!”
But I had already opened the way.
I stepped backwards as he lunged. Careful not to trip on anything, only to be left confused and filled with newfound curiosity.
Here, in my arms, was Mittens.
The black cat my parents had brought home for me when I was five.
It looked at me now, with those big, adorable eyes. Purring as it pressed its head against my chest.
“Mittens is here.” It whispered. In the sweetest voice I could have possibly imagined.
“Mittens loves you. Mittens cares for you. Mittens missed you very much.”
“Aaaaaaaw.” I said. Unable to contain he words. “I… I don’t. You are so adorable.”
The Drake stared at me as if I had gone bat(Gnome) insane.
“You find that thing adorable!?”
I stared right back. Quizzically.
“Uh, yes?”
“It has four horns! And centipede legs! They’re twitching! And they’re flickering in and out of reality! For (Noble)’s sake! They’re wrapping themselves around your shoulder!”
I looked down at Mittens once again. Noting his bright green eyes and adorable purring. Then I turned back to the Drake.
“Dude, are you high?”
“No! I am not (Noble)ing high you imbecile! Look at it! Look!”
I looked again. Mittens, or the Intruder taking Mitten’s shape, liked my fingers.
“Dude. You are so high. I don’t know why I was even listening to you. Here, Mittens. Say something to the Drake.”
Mittens turned his adorable head to look at the Drake as I requested and spoke.
“Mittens does hear. The truth will appear. Mittens is here.”
“Mittens foretells. Mittens will yell. Your mother sucks fat (Gnome)s in hell!”
The Drake reared back as if struck. So did I for that matter.
“Mittens! What the (Gnome)!?”
Despite my mounting horror, he stayed in my hands. Screaming.
“You will die as your weakling father died! Alone! Afraid! Ashamed! Mittens is here!”
“Mittens! Mittens!!! Stop it! I said stop!”
Mittens did stop at that. Turning around to face me and noting my thoroughly disturbed expression with some surprise.
“Uh, Mittens will squeak. The truth he does speak. Mittens is here.”
“I don’t care about, wait. How could you even know that!?”
“Please don’t be mad at Mittens.” He said.
Ignoring my question in favour of giving me the cutest glances ever.
“Mittens is not just faceless Pandemonium horror. Mittens loves Sully. Mittens has real feelings too.”
The Drake snatched him up before I could say anything in response. His hands turning into several interwoven tentacles that opened one window with a few swift motions and chucked him out with some others.
The he cut off the limb for good measure and threw that out the window as well, before closing it and stacking a bunch of furniture against it in a desperate attempt to keep it out.
“Quick!” He wailed. “Stabilize reality! Now!”
I did as he bid, though no chances made themselves apparent.
Still, Mittens didn’t come back and I turned to the Drake after half an hour.
“I mean. I know it doesn’t look good, but he did say he loved me and he didn’t attack me.”
The Drake’s fury was apparent, but he didn’t contest the matter further.
