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Chapter 74: Inside the Sarcophagus.
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 13:32:48 +0000 UTCChapter 74: Inside the Sarcophagus.
I came out of that place a different person. My eyes feeling heavy and hollow as they gazed out into the mansion’s interior.
There was a polished mirror in the living room next to me and I gazed into it now with an indescribable weariness.
The person gazing back was a suspicious stranger. With an empty expression and a thousand-yard stare that seemed to pierce through the reflective surface. He looked, shell-shocked. Though not nearly as much as I’d feared.
I blinked a few times. Pinching myself to make sure that this was, in fact reality, before making my way over to the in-house bar.
I sat down on a well-worn barstool, looking around for another change in scenery.
Then I spoke out loud. Not seeing anyone near me, but knowing in my heart of hearts that he would be listening.
“What happened to my parents? Are they safe? Is Luigi?”
“I don’t know. In case you forgot, I’m both here and not actually here. Pandemonium can be pretty fast and lose with things like time or cause and effect. I’m a byproduct of our, your, ability. How am I supposed to know what’s happening or what might yet happen in another instance without someone from their instance trying to access this realm or you using you power?”
I nodded at empty air and drew out the tangled rope that was [Insight] once more. I saw glimpses, hurried and confused.
The man, Scab, was laughing but his own gaze wasn’t on Luigi. Instead, he stared at the mace in his hands with a morbid fascination.
He was moving his lips and sounds were coming out, but they were not words.
Thankfully, he was so lost in his own little world that Luigi managed to get away. Despite his reprieve, part of me died inside as I realized that he was weeping and limping, instead of running as previously had.
“You realize that you will have to kill that man in order for Luigi to get away.” The other me said.
“I know.”
“Will you regret it?”
I paused. Thinking back to all the predictions that had come to me now. To what this Halkon person and his goons had been doing to the people on Adept difficulty. To what they had threatened my parents with. To what they would do if I didn’t interfere.
Then I thought back to the Drake and all the arguments he had made regarding the use of violence or [Domination] in order to bring about the greater good.
‘He might have been a treacherous serpent, but the advice was genuine.’
In this case, that wouldn’t even be an option, since I wouldn’t be able to access Adept difficulty, even with a Difficulty Transfer Token. I was too high-Tiered. Too high levelled. Someone would have to go in my stead. Someone weak enough that the System would let them pass. With a little surprise in store for Halkon and his goons stowed within their body.
I had to laugh. Thinking back to how much I’d feared Anezka’s presence. The threat she posed. Only for me to contemplate forcing Mittens unto her. For me to consider sending her over to Halkon with a crooked smile on her face and a terrible song in her heart.
I would have to do it. That and threaten Granny and that Banerid guy for early access to the Token. If I wanted to see my parents alive again.
But would I regret it?
“I don’t think so.” I said. Surprising even me.
“Good. Because that was only the beginning. That scumbag and his accomplices were the most obvious of the threats coming your way and to those you care about, but they will not be the strongest, nor the most insidious.”
“Yes. I figured as much.”
I grabbed the half-empty bottle again and poured myself another glass. Gagging as the liquid burned my throat.
“Oh (Gnome). It feels just like the real thing.”
“It might very well be the real thing. Hard to tell, in Pandemonium. Sometimes, we can drag things out and they will materialize in reality. Though, some would say that what we bring out is a bunch of Intruders that manipulate matter into he shape of the thing you tried to bring out. Again, it is rather confusing at times.”
The figure of Sarcophagus Solomon shimmered slightly, as if it were a reflection on rippling water. It was spinning with the rest of the room. Wobbling up and down and sideways without any care for my poor balance.
“Stay.” I commanded. “I’m in control. You will stay.”
That metal form re-asserted itself at once. Coming back in such a way that it seemed perfectly suited to the current environment.
It was…funny.
Too funny.
A literal unwilling cyborg straight out of a dystopian science fiction novel walking into a bar and standing over me menacingly. It had the means to do weird things to me that I couldn’t undo and I had invited it here willingly.
Yeah. I’m an imbecile.
“I don’t suppose you can sit?”
The tube didn’t seem amused. Then again, how was I supposed to tell? I wasn’t getting any kind of reading through my fog. Did organs suspended in goo twitch when they were happy?
“I think a picture is beginning to form, younger me.”
“Is it a pretty picture?”
“No. It’s a picture of you.”
“(Gnome)!”
“Yes, Solomon. (Gnome). You’ve done amazing things, avoided the pitfalls I did not. And now you’ve come to the precipice. The final choice that will determine whether out world lives or dies.”
“Oh? And what do you suppose I should do to remedy the situation?”
“You need to absorb them. The Drake first, then Randall. Once he’s developed a high-Tiered portal ability.”
“So, I’ve heard. Funny that.”
I took another gulp. Savoring the aftertaste in my mouth before swallowing.
“You must have realized what’s at stake now.”
I turned to the machine-man hybrid.
“That is so interesting. You see, you told me that I needed to save Dusty, Slab, Charlie and Monique. I did what you said. You also told me that I would get Shifter as a second Type, thanks to some deal you made with the Drake. That thing with the blood and the mouths and the teeth. And now you tell me I need to lobotomize Randall too. Or else our world will burn.”
The cyborg moved around me. Metallic legs dancing across unreal wooden boards with a chorus of clacking sounds that set my teeth on edge.
“I do not have to tell you anything. You have seen it for yourself. You know that it will happen. You, for all your other faults, took the initiative where I didn’t and set events in motion. If you need encouragement, keep in mind that I was not so wise during my hypothetical timeline. I let my guard down and allowed pests like Ryan to take over and I followed that up by trusting Anezka of all people. Tuning out my fog in hopes that it wouldn’t upset my new companions.”
It made an electronic screeching noise from its sound system. Some horrible buzzing that might have been laughter.
“You should be proud. All things considered. You did everything right, where I did everything wrong. Anezka’s body is little more than a puppet, while her mind gets what she deserves. Randall’s victims have all been avenged while he is forced to grind himself to ashes for the benefit of humanity as a whole. And the Drake, the real, original Drake that is still very much out there will have a much harder time in regards to collecting hapless humans for his experiments.”
He paused for a while, before turning that transparent screen encasing his organs back at me.
“What’s more, you took steps to save mom and dad. Even grandpa. I shouldn’t have to tell you that they all died in my timeline. Even before Periwig torched our earth. Your sacrifices and hard work will prevent that. Indeed, now that I say it all out loud, you should be elated. Beside yourself with joy.”
“Nice. I really needed that vote of confidence.”
I drained the glass in my hands. Then went to pour out the last remnants within the bottle.
“Let’s circle back to the thing inside me for a second. I heard about it from its own perspective, but I see now that it was, less than honest in some regards. I want to hear it from you. What is it?”
“Hmn. Good. That suspicion will get you far. As for it. Well, I do have to agree that it was surprisingly honest for the most part. It calls itself the Seeking Drake. Its most dangerous ability is [Drake’s Perfect Vicissitude X]. It is a Savant, like us.”
“Yes. It mentioned that. I don’t suppose it lied about what the word meant?”
“No. It spoke the truth. A Savant is someone who is preternaturally skilled at developing a specific Type while being utterly hopeless with the three others. Individuals with our particular talents are a problem for them. Some call us Idiot Savants, due to our inability to access potent synergies between Types, which renders us weaker than our similarly-levelled counterparts. These detractors prefer to ignore our advantage in total Psy, as well as the fact that fights between high-level experts usually devolves into contests between who has the greatest abilities. Other, wiser individuals refer to us as the Blessed Savants, due to people like us generally possessing abilities that are far more developed and versatile than our peers. This is important because, unlike the vast majority of the Labyrinth’s regular residents, we are not usually hampered by level caps.”
“Whoa there. Hold the phone. I just caught on to something you said. Something that’s been bothering me for a good long while. This, Labyrinth. Is presumably run by all powerful Espers that are so far beyond our understanding that it’s not even funny. Correct?”
“Yes. That is also my understanding of it.”
“Right. Okay. So, what’s the point of it all? Why don’t they just solve all the Excursions themselves if they care so much?”
“How should I know?”
My mouth dropped.
“You don’t know?”
“No. I do not. I’m barely 50. I killed a lot of fools who presumed to leverage our vulnerability in that time, but that doesn’t make me an expert in all things relating to the Labyrinth.”
“You don’t seem like the vulnerable sort.”
“Then you’re forgetting others have access to [Electronic Interface]. As advanced as my prison is, its far less potent than my own person and far easier to influence. Anezka never bothered to install countermeasures because never imagined she’d have competition. She assumed that she could take me to her home planet once she managed to escape the Labyrinth. The spider tore her apart before she could realize her folly and I was left with the baggage. Young talents who sought me out in order to supplant Anezka as my tormentor by hijacking the machine keeping alive. You could fill several stadiums with the number of young masters I dominated and turned on their own factions. Normally such controlling effects can be undone with relative ease, but our ability isn’t called inescapable for no reason. I was feared almost as much as the Drake and the Hermit near the end. None of the major factions were coming over to tell me about ye old factices.”
“You can’t even guess?”
There was another faint buzz of static.
“My first guess was that this was in service to some kind of interdimensional invasion. In that some remarkably incompetent overlord was trying to assess which species would be easiest to conquer. That theory proved itself to be flawed when the Excursions remained unchanged. At least for low-levelled factions like the nascent humanity. Whomever is in charge of generating quests seems to be genuinely benevolent. Which is shocking when you compare such behaviour with everything else we’ve seen from our captors.”
“You veered off from the original question.” I accused, feeling sour.
“I was trying to…never mind. The point is that I m as clueless as you. I’ve only got Periwig’s explanation to go on. Which isn’t much. Regardless of their underlying reasoning, the Labyrinth remains a place where challenges are generated for all individuals of member species and that new species are captured and added to the collection periodically. It is also a place that, despite the many injustices committed within it, remains somewhat fair in its structure.”
“FAIR!?” I was screaming again, unable to contain my outrage. “What the (Gnome) is fair about any of this!? Are you (Gnome)ing high!?”
“I am not. As terrible was this place is, it could have been much worse. The gnomes, that is, the very real species they are based on would have preferred if all new arrivals entered into one of their pre-prepared cages. They and other major factions have been trying to circumvent the addition of new species for millions of years so that they aren’t threatened by the new children on the playground. Believe it or not, the Tutorial is somewhat benevolent, in that it shields new arrivals from the cutthroat competition of the Labyrinth and the myriad petty wars that plague it. Humans will be given a fair chance to grow, before being exposed to all the other factions that have had millions of years to grow, fracture and splinter.”
I paused. Taking in the information.
“(Gnome). I hate how that actually sounds like a good thing.”
“Yes. The alternative would have been, messy. Imagine our arrival and how it would have differed if tens of thousands of gnomes, real gnomes, not replicas, came down on the thousand humans in this instance. All looking to either kill the promising individuals before they became a threat or enslave whomever they saw for their own sick amusement.”
“That, would have been bad.” I concede. “I take it that the presence of Savants among a species helps to protect it?”
“That it does. Denizens of the major factions will typically spend dozens of years trying to pass level 50 or 100. Even the favoured scions of said factions struggle to pass 150, living and dying within the spectre of further progress. That is not an issue for us. As such, making enemies of us could mean the annihilation of entire armies or sectors before a champion manages to kill the offended party. If, they manage to kill the offended party. The Drake is infamous for having wiped out several subspecies of dwarves. None of their champions were up to the task and their allies abandoned them rather than risking the Drake’s wroth themselves. The thing actually kept two of their kings alive. One as a bedframe and the other as a toilet. It doesn’t even need to use the toilet; it has its guests use it.”
“Got it. This Drake guy really is as scary a Shifter as we are Telepaths and the real one is still out there.”
“Correct.”
“Oh (Gnome).”
“That would be an accurate assessment of the situation.”
“Why would you have anything to do with…it? You didn’t know that your timeline was, not exactly permanent. So, you couldn’t have known that I would need it. Why would you take that chance?”
“Desperation.”
Despite its voice being monotone, I could sense a deep sadness from my counterpart. An impotent rage that had long devolved into despair.
“You don’t know. You can’t know, how it felt. Having your very cells torn asunder while you laid on the floor, unable to move yet able to feel each cut and slice and bite. You can’t know what that meant for me. What it did to me. I couldn’t touch the world around me, nor feel any warmth in my fingers. I couldn’t feel the air rushing into my lungs. I couldn’t see with my own two eyes anymore, nor hear with my ears. Anezka controlled the sensors of my prison. She would often amuse herself by turning them off, leaving me in a pit of senseless agony.”
If that shell was capable of producing tears, it would have been weeping.
“Have you ever heard about sensory deprivation out in the world beyond? About what solitary confinement does to people? How it twists and changes them? I know you did. You’ve watched documentaries of Esper prisons. Those do not do the torment justice. I felt as if my very soul was being scraped, imagining sharp pain just to fill the void with something, anything! I could not even call upon my own Psy to sense the minds around me! You still have some reservations, about what it means to be a Telepath, about reading people’s thoughts. I did too, yet I would have killed thousands, sacrificed anything I still had left just to feel another’s presence. To feel my own presence.”
There were pauses in the speech that must have been the equivalent of sobbing.
“In the pit, I would lose track of time! Not knowing if an hour had passed or fifty! I would try to scream and remember that I had no mouth! I would try breathe and remember that I had no lungs! I would try to move my tongue, to taste and to chew, only to recall the paralysing horror of it being sheared away! It was as if I was buried alive! But worse! In the darkness my memories flittered away! I recalled that I had parents but could not recall their faces! I recalled that I had friends but could not recall their words or actions! I began to lose myself, Solomon! To lose what made me the person I was! Then she would bring me back and laugh! Laugh at me! At what I was going through! She said….”
He had to pause, as if flinching.
“She said that stronger Seers fetch higher prices! I was a tool to be sold! Me! A tool! I did not even have the dignity of a name! She called me Sarcophagus! Coffin! An item designation! She said that the proven method of improving psychic might was isolation and sensory deprivation, so she subjected me to it again and again and again. My mind would wander, during those time, off to different timelines and possibilities. I saw how much better off I would have been If I’d had the wisdom to kill her when I could! I saw the benefits of controlling vapid morons like Ryan and all the rest! I saw how much better off I would have been if I hadn’t been afraid of myself! If I’d embraced who and what I was!”
It paused again. The machine remaining deathly still as its occupant raged impotently.
“There were times when I wondered if I was dead, if Anezka had finally seen fit to put me out of my misery. That brought on even more fear. Terror stemming from the very implication that there was nothing beyond death. That I was trapped in an empty afterlife with no way out, no reprieve. She would laugh about it afterwards. Laugh at me. At what I was going through. She said I deserved it for being weak! For being gullible! She said I was a peon! A tool that should be happy to be of use to its betters! My suffering didn’t mean anything to her! No one’s pain caused her to pause! She was a narcissistic, vile, scheming evil (Gnome)! You might not like me. You might not even trust me. But know this. If there is wrong in this universe, true moral depravity, it comes from people like Anezka and the Drake.”
“And yet you signed on with the Drake.”
“Were you listening? I wanted, needed, my body back and I didn’t much care what I had to do to get it. Unlocking another Type the normal way was nigh impossible. So, I sought alternatives. Savants like us usually gleam greater insights into their respective Types than the rest of the chattel and are able to uplift others who are not as fortunate.”
“Like my own [Insight]?”
“Precisely. Although my own ability was considerably more potent than yours. By that point’s I’d merged the presence abilities you now have into [Suppression]. Allowing me to entwine memories and experiences more tightly into [Insight]. The agreed upon deal was that I would use my own ability on it and it would uplift me in turn. The Drake would obtain the Telepath Type, as well as three of my more meaningful revelations and I would obtain the Shifter Type, as well as its own three revelations. This way, we would not only gain another Type, but at least one successful merged ability.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that thing having my own powers.”
I said while emptying the last glass.
The room swirled a little more. That all-too familiar pleasant warmth crept down my stomach and through my arteries. Making me feel light and fluffy and strong.
“Quite astute. I felt the same way; as did it. Therein lies the problem. We Savants are prideful and paranoid to a fault. We have to be, given the threat we pose to more established hierarchies. There are no end of guilds and empires within the greater Labyrinth that would pay dearly for the elimination of an unruly Savant. Giving away our gifts as you do is considered very ill-advised as you bring more people to your own Tier and give them a chance and the means to betray and kill you later on. Our advantages are boons, so long as very few others exist to counter them. I was at a disadvantage in levels and experience so I was coerced into paying upfront and the Drake wanted more before committing. We were locked together, connected by one of his tricks, when you arrived.”
I chuckled. ‘
“I imagine that changed much.” I said.
Moving my shaking hand over the menu in search of another bottle.
I went for a mix of pre-made margaritas this time, not bothering with the glass at all and taking swigs straight from the bottle that appeared.
“Much. I had gambled and lost by then. The Drake had my part of the deal and I had his, but he wouldn’t sever the connection and allow me to absorb his, I don’t know how to explain it. Essence? Clumps of sentient bio-matter? Parasites? It was composed of these stains that wormed their way into my organs. They contained the knowledge I wanted, the Type, but he wouldn’t let me absorb them without further compromises to myself. If I tried anything, the little motes of flesh would rapidly multiply like a cancer and kill me.”
“But he couldn’t kill you. Because you’re not real.”
There was bile in my mouth now, my mind running through all the implications.
‘How would it feel? To know that you weren’t real? That all you went through was inconsequential? That the sacrifices you made and the people you lost meant nothing?’
Perhaps it was better that I remained ignorant.
“Exactly. I absorbed whatever knowledge was there and placed it inside of you. This way, you could say we cheated it out of its prize. You, that is, I, got my way and not only did it fail to enslave or consume me, it doesn’t have the Telepath Type either. Since the deal hasn’t happened in this timeline.”
“I have a feeling we didn’t get away with as much as you imply, since you seem oddly somber about the deal.”
“You deduce correctly. It won’t know what we did, but he was one of the beings that fell upon the humans who managed to survive the six months of the Tutorial and the period of adjustment that came after. While it might be wary of picking a fight with us, the rest of the people trapped with us won’t be so lucky. There will be a confrontation, unless you decide to stand idly by while hundreds get kidnapped and subjected to a grisly demise. Or worse.”
“Fat chance of that.”
“I figured as much. Which means that you need to grasp at every straw you have and then some. It won’t be an immediate concern, but we will be vulnerable after a year. You must become a far stronger Telepath, Shifter and Projector in order to stand a chance. Not at winning mind you, but at making it rethink its options. It and the others who will come to plunder the new arrivals have a vested interest in keeping their cards hidden and in avoiding potential catastrophes. A weakling is a stool to be stepped on. A rising star is a respected peer. That is the norm and the law in here. Never forget it.”
I pressed the bottle to my lips and drank freely from it.
Sarcophagus Sully continued.
“The Drake prefers to turn its victims into living furniture, or else absorb them into itself. It believes itself to be constantly nearing perfection in a corporeal term, forever seeking new biomass to experiment with. In our case, it might turn us into a sentient item it can wear, much in the same manner as you uplifting Cherub and Slasher.”
“Lovely.”
I took anther drink. Gulping down several times before putting the bottle down. By some miracle, I managed to set it on the table perfectly, despite my shaking hands. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky in maintaining my balance. I fell sideways, hitting my head on the floor as I tumbled downwards.
“I feel funny.” I said, giggling slightly at nothing in particular. “The corners are falling. They’re not there. The walls aren’t there. We’re…. where are we? I don’t see the edges. I don’t see the corners. I don’t see the walls.”
There was series of clanks striking stone.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Skittering like a big iron bug.
“You overdid it.”
“Hehehe. You’re squishy.”
“I guess that’s it for this conversation. I don’t remember being able to handle that much booze in my day. Might have something to do with your training.”
I heard the clanking of metal legs skittering away.
“In any case, you know about both choices now. Absorb the Drake’s vestige and later, Randall, if you wish to save our entire planet and everyone in the Tutorial. As for saving grandpa and the common people of our world…”
He paused. Shifting his bulk around for the briefest of instants.
“I trust I don’t need to say it out loud.”
“No.” I confirmed. Giggling like a fool. Until the laughter turned to sobs and the tears began falling from the corners of my eyes.
“I have seen their sins. I have watched the consequences of their actions.” I paused again, trying and failing to stop the flood of emotions.
“I know what must be done.”
