You’re wrong, Shiv. Dead felling wrong. Gods, boy, it’s like you’re not paying any attention at all. The reason why the Swan-Eating Toad works isn’t fear. People don’t cook here because they’re afraid of me. I’m not dangerous. My Physicality is shite. My magic’s pathetic. I’m not a dedicated warrior, and my Toughness is so low that I still get burned touching the bloody stove sometimes.
There’s nothing about me that’s terrifying to most Pathbearers. But there are plenty of things about me that make people uncomfortable.
Why do you listen to me? Why do you always do what I tell you to without question? Beyond the mithril, Shiv. Hells, with how much you like watching people and figuring them out, you would have made a good enough Thief. It’s not terror. I’m definitely not as intimidating as a Lesser Vampire. Well, stop staring at me like a dead fish. You know the answer. You do—don’t be dumb. Think about it for a second.
Disappointment. Right. But that’s only half of the answer. What else? Yes. You want to be here. You want to be in this kitchen. You want to spend time with the other chefs and make good food. It’s not rational, it’s sometimes miserable and stupid, but you love it and want it, and that means the world to you.
It’s coming from inside you. I’m not making you do anything. Just like I don’t make people cry when I yell at them. If I yelled at someone who didn’t care, they wouldn’t cry at all. They would tell me to fuck off or just leave. We're not the only restaurant in town. But the chefs here are terrified of disappointing me, because I echo how they feel. I am here, determining their futures. I control what they think of themselves. And I didn’t take that from them; they gave that power to me.
Want. And then consequence.
You want to be a good chef. So you peel the potatoes. If you do well, the reward is that you’ve made a portion of a good meal. If you do poorly, I’ll ask you how many times you were dropped on your head as a child because I’ll be godsdamned pissed across every hells, yeah? Because it’s consequence for me, too, since it’s affecting everyone’s pace. But it’s consequence for you because what you want isn’t being met. What you want is taking damage. Your idea of yourself is taking damage.
And that’s what breaks many chefs. They can’t deal with the consequence. It’s bigger than the want.
Life’s complicated. Being Head Chef is complicated. People need to fear you—but they need to fear you because they want to fear you. Because it means something to see something done well. Leadership is someone giving you their fear, their efforts, their suffering, their all.
All to make something that’s better than shit. You get it? Good. Now. Clean this shit up and tell Lucessia she’s fucking gone. That dumb bot can’t cook worth a godsdamned shit.
-Georges Archambault to Shiv
177 (I)
Terrify [I]
Shiv regarded the Ascendant in silence. Cripple wasn’t the type to lie—not to anyone but itself. Even if it was speaking the truth regarding Rebis or Five, Shiv still felt like he owed them something. And leaving them here in this prison felt crueler than just murdering them, especially after what they'd gone through together. Death was one thing, but being caged for year after year? Being made into an experiment? That was a special kind of torture.
And it’s not something I can accept, Shiv realized. What the Ascendants were doing here was basically orc-shit with extra bullshit to justify all the brutality and torture. Just because someone else was a godsdamned bastard didn’t mean that you had to be. Killing them was one thing. Protecting yourself was one thing. Torturing them and using them under the pretense of punishment was like trying to insulate some of your own wretchedness.
But Shiv thought back to the vampires at Gate Piety—at the experiments he used them for—and remembered that he might be a bit of a hypocrite right now. They were vampires that tortured and inflicted their depravity upon the world. That was true. Shiv felt nothing when he hurt or broke them, but that was because his experiences with the First Blood were nothing but violent and foul.
But the Ascendants might feel the same way about these prisoners, he thought. What if they see Rebis or Five like how I see the First Blood?
What if Shiv truly learned of the sins his fellow prisoners had committed to see themselves interred here? What would he think then?
My ethics might be a bit too underdeveloped, the Deathless thought to himself. I really need to think more about this. But I also kind of don’t wanna, because the world’s a felling mess.
Philosophy 16 > 17
“Cripple,” Shiv began, sticking to his instinctive candor. “I kind of feel like I owe these guys something. But now I might owe you a bit too. So. Yeah. Can I have a second?”
The expanse of light that comprised the Ascendant’s domain shifted slightly. “We do not have long.” Shiv heard a strange tension in Cripple’s voice just then, and the Ascendant let out a weary sigh. “And once more, I see the depths of my actions. How old are you?”
“Why’s that matter?”
“Because this entire time, I have been treating you as a warrior, but with your words just now, I understand you are but a child.”
“Look. I might just be eighteen—”
“It is not solely your age. It is also what you have experienced. What you have done. Do you have many regrets, Deathless?”
Shiv didn’t hesitate when it came to that question. “Yeah. My Legendary Delve was made from my regrets. I hate the fact that innocent or weak people die a lot when I fight. I hate the fact that I’m not strong enough to stop them from getting caught in the crossfire when I run up against something strong.” He paused and fought through his discomfort. “I hate that I’m responsible for their ends. I hate it.”
“It is a good thing to despise,” Cripple sympathized. “But you are not unique. Collateral damage is almost impossible to avoid if the circumstances are ill and the moment is wrong. I have tried to protect many people. I remember their faces. I remember failing them. All of them. I have forgotten none.”
And that inadvertently made Shiv feel a bit worse as he only recalled a few select people from his past. Leu and the boy that 811 had killed were at the top. The others were more like silhouettes to Shiv. They were more conceptual entities with faces and theoretical lives than actual victims. It didn’t make it any better.
“It’s not supposed to be this way,” Shiv muttered.
“The System cares little if the weak and feeble live or die,” Cripple replied with a softer tone. “We might. But there is a limit to what can be done. This also does not apply to the people you feel honor and loyalty to. These are good virtues to have. Have no one tell you otherwise. The Republic would not exist if these values were not enforced to some degree, but there is folly in giving too much clemency to those who would not offer it in return.”
The battle-loving part of Shiv wanted to argue with the Ascendant some more just for the sake of arguing, but he refrained. It wasn’t a good use of time right now, and Shiv had another idea. “How about this: I do whatever I can to keep your wardens alive while recruiting whatever prisoners I need to get Adam back. Once I find him and make sure he’s safe, we can talk about if these guys should stay in this place or not.”
“Why then?” Cripple asked. “Are you planning to defer this choice to your friend?”
“I’m planning to ask him about it, at least,” Shiv said. “I don’t think I’m a bad guy, but sometimes I… I guess I don’t really care enough about things or people. And I haven’t thought about problems like this nearly enough. Adam probably has. And whatever he decides, it’s probably as close to proper righteousness as anyone can get.”
A mechanical rumble sounded from all sides. “You think that much of him?”
Stolen story; please report.
“More than you can ever know. Guy’s got the biggest heart. Even after he got dragged down into the Abyss, all he could think about was saving Blackedge and stopping another war. And anytime someone needed him, he was there.” Shiv chuckled to himself as he remembered Adam’s adventures across Weave, catching serial killers and talking automata off ledges. “He’s my favorite asshole.”
Silver Tongue 33 > 36
A somber silence filled the bright expanse, and then it suddenly began to dim. “Very well. But understand that I will not put the Republic at stake. These prisoners are beyond dangerous. And unlike you, they hold few virtues close to heart. You will learn of their depravity firsthand soon. Take care not to expose yourself to them. They will bite down on your neck if granted the chance.”
“And if I do, I’ll deal with it, and then I’ll deal with them,” Shiv said. “Can’t be worse than running with a bunch of orcs.”
The Challenger is amused by the Ascendant’s—
Cripple the Strongest rebuffs the Challenger’s presence from its domain.
Shiv felt himself getting displaced. Slowly, patches of color were bleeding through the bright canvas shrouding the world around him, and the weight of Cripple’s presence began to recede as well. “I am being summoned. Apparently, Adam Arrow has escaped. Under Stormhalt’s supervision, no less.”
A loud snort escaped from Shiv, and he couldn’t stop it from turning into a resounding laugh. “Well, now we’re at two people you shouldn’t have placed in this prison.”
A drone came from the Ascendant. Shiv felt a faint vibration rattle forth from the reactor core he was still holding. “There is another matter related to his escape: Do you have another comrade here with you aside from the orc? A female Biomancer or someone capable of shape-changing?”
Shiv frowned. “What? No.” For a moment, he considered the possibility that Uva got back to Adam somehow, but it didn’t seem likely. Especially with her apparently being trapped in the Outside. “Why? Wait, did someone break him out?”
“One of our wardens, it seems.” Cripple sounded half-distracted. “You are unaware of anyone else assisting you in this prison?”
“The only other person I can think of vanished into the Outside along with Blackedge. Or so you claimed earlier.”
A low grunt of displeasure escaped the Ascendant. “Worrying. Master-Avatar Stormhalt is currently broadcasting orders to all active personnel in Spine-B-12—one of the central control cubes meant to relay commands and control the settings for various Zeroth Prison Cubes.”
And Bonk probably took control of one of those cubes earlier, used whatever network they had to release a bunch of prisoners.
“Okay, so do they know where he is?”
A few seconds of silence passed. Then, Cripple spoke again. “Adam and his mysterious associate left through a teleportation anchor. They were intercepted by one of our Groundskeepers—a warden specializing in returning Legendary-Tier prisoners to their cells.”
“Yeah, real cute felling name,” Shiv growled. “Alright. Give me his last known location. I’ll grab however I can and… Hm. The other Avatars will be on the scene first, won’t they?”
“That is a high likelihood.”
“Okay. Rushing in is probably not the best idea. I need someone with Stealth capabilities. Legendary-Tier Stealth.”
As Shiv continued his musings, the incandescent mana surrounding him shuddered and thinned. Cripple’s presence grew ever-fainter as well. “I am being summoned by the other Ascendants. Doubtless, they are recalling me to help secure Young Lord Arrow. I suspect they intend to use him as bait. But I think I will have words with them about Daughter’s gluttonous behavior and City Lord Stormhalt’s questionable deeds.”
“Any chance you can put the bastard down?”
“It is unlikely,” Cripple answered with a growl of dissatisfaction. “I do not fear Halsur. I will face him openly if it means punishing Stormhalt for everything he has done on top of his most recent failure. However, I cannot go against Kathereine.”
Shiv narrowed his eyes as he detected both shame and fear in the Ascendant’s voice. “Look. I know talking about her bothers you something bad and how you won’t tell me what she has on you, but can you let me know about her weaknesses or something? Anything that I can take advantage of?”
“There is nothing,” Cripple said, its voice reverberating with a terror-stained hollowness. “I cannot say. I cannot. She will know. And she will take what is left of me. She will take it, and she will not give it back until she is satisfied.” Shiv tasted the sheer amount of dread radiating from Cripple like it was a spike in the temperature. The air around him stank with humid fear.
Psycho-Cartography: Cripple is clearly mentally burdened. It likely has several issues related to self-loathing. There’s a bit of depression in it as well. Kathereine is a social god. This is just a nightmare match-up for Cripple. And for us as well. We stay away from that woman at all costs. We leave a temporal anchor anywhere we go so we can bug out and get away from her if things go to hell.
Cripple broke out of its quavering stupor. “Keep my Avatar’s reactor core close to you. I will be silent for a time, but through the core, I will still be able to communicate with you when the moment allows for it. When you reach Adam, I will send a cube out to receive you. It should be able to hide your presence and allow us all to speak at length about recent happenings.”
Once more, Shiv’s paranoia reared its head. The Deathless promptly stomped on the feeling, as there would be no point in capturing both him and Adam at the same time. Again, Cripple could have simply aided his fellow Ascendant earlier if he wanted Shiv captured. “Got it. You’ll be able to track me with this core, won’t you?”
“It is necessary. If you do not trust me—”
“It’s fine. I think we’re both past that point now. If the other Ascendants manage to recapture me and peek into my mind, how much trouble will you be in if they see this conversation we just had?”
“I do not wish to think of such things,” Cripple whispered.
A beat of awkwardness slid between them, and Shiv grunted. “Alright. I’ll see if I can figure out where Adam is without getting myself put back in a cage. You better get back before the other false gods start getting more weird feelings about you.”
“Mind yourself, Deathless. And mind who you decide to use for this task. The prisoners in the Nadir are powerful and without remorse. You may think yourself a Legend, but you are not yet True. There are many here that could slaughter the capital alone if not for our own Legends, as well as us Ascendants and our Avatars. I will hold you to your words about my wardens and beg that your deeds will live up to your beliefs.”
“I’m damn sure going to try,” Shiv said in reply.
Cripple gave a distorted hum. “That is all that can be done sometimes.”
With that, the talk between them came to a close. A thunderclap of pressure shook the brilliant domain, and the divine mana crashed toward Shiv in receding waves. Rather than slamming into his body, the incandescence narrowed into streams and wormed into the reactor core Shiv now clutched in his left hand. When the final motes of brightness faded, he found himself hovering in the crawlspace, staring at a shredded Orichalcum wall. There was still a lingering stench in the air, but with Daughter missing, it wasn’t nearly as bad. He placed the reactor core into his cape and stepped forward. Shiv lined the underside of his feet with vectors and dashed through the air. He entered the prison cube again in search of Rebis—and then realized Bonk and Five probably heard the entire conversation.
I completely forgot about them. Well, might as well get this over with. “Five. Bonk. Come out. I think we got some stuff to talk about.”
Neither the orc nor the wolf-man replied immediately. Shiv frowned as he landed on the valley floor of the prison. There were bodies everywhere. Dismembered wardens littered the ground, and smears of their blood painted the walls. Most of them were crushed and mangled in strange ways. It looked as if a giant hand squeezed them until their organs were forced out of their body.
Shiv remembered the massive Vulteg that he'd halted earlier. Urri, Shiv thought his name was. Maybe this was his doing. Distant sounds of battle rang out from ahead and behind, and Shiv considered calling out for Rebis. Drawing attention to himself might not be the best idea right now, but he needed—
Something crashed into Shiv. The Deathless felt his heart drop as he reacted. He seized his attacker by the neck and drove them against the Orichalcum wall. A resounding bang rang out. The attacker writhed. Shiv gathered his Shapeless Tides and prepared to rip them asunder. Pointed vectors of force speared along his arms and stabbed against his adversary. Just as Shiv was about to pull his newest victim apart, he hissed and stopped himself.
“Rebis,” Shiv snapped, looking at his badly damaged companion. “The hells? Don’t just throw yourself at me like that.”
The amalgamated Pathbearer was not in good condition. His human side was bleeding and wounded in a dozen places. Blood seeped out from his many cuts, and his skin bounced in parted flaps while smoke rose from sparking wires protruding from his mechanical side. Despite this, Rebis was still combat-capable.
“S-sorry,” Rebis said, pointing his face away from Shiv. The cyborg’s wings twitched a few times before ultimately going slack. “I was… I moved too fast.”
Shiv let Rebis go and used his Aegis of Assimilation to drain away the wounds he could. As he turned the cuts lining Rebis into crystallized mana, the cyborg glanced down at his human half in surprise before briefly shooting Shiv a glance.
“Glad Daughter didn’t kill you,” Shiv muttered. “She tore you up something bad, though. Damn, that’s a lot of cuts.”
“No,” Rebis said, shaking his head violently.
“No?” Shiv asked, not understanding what the cyborg was referring to.
“Not a lot of cuts. They cut more when they experiment on me. They cut more when they are trying to put things inside.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Bunch of felling bastards.”
Rebis gave Shiv a twitching nod.
“Five. Bonk. You guys alright?” Shiv called out again. When there was still no response, Shiv knew something terrible had happened.