68. Undercity I
By the time for my meeting with Lady Ayn was coming, and I still couldn't entirely drop my bone armor after my two almost consecutive uses of Swarm Aspect. It was thinner than before and from a distance, it only looked like I was abnormally pale, not even like my complexion had changed, but rather if my face was carved out of white porcelain; like all my melanocytes had perished. It was not that egregious compared to the physical changes certain higher level classers sported, but it was noticeable nonetheless. Especially since I walked around clad in bone, I ate in bone, I slept in bone, and I only briefly dropped it when I had to wash or relieve myself. In theory, I could just unequip Chimerism, rendering it unequippable for a few months and reduce the regressions to purely mental dysmorphia and then power through that. But that was such a profoundly stupid idea that I did not even momentarily entertain it, hostile dragon or not.
I had ideas about how to temporarily mitigate the problem. Namely, I had ideas about what other changes I could safely do to myself to reduce the statistical disparity between a plain human and Titan. The only reason that I hadn't yet was because I had to meet with the High Councillor and I would prefer to have complete control over my physical tells and body language for it.
Finally, I decided to just create a thin, porous skin mask that I draped my bone face, that in turn kept my actual skin in the shape it was supposed to be in. The skin mask hugged the contours of my face but hidden among my hair at the base of my neck, it was tightly bunched up and clipped taut with a lacing of bone. Mitria would have been able to make one that didn't need something this inelegant to stay on, with their eyes closed, but I was not as good as them, not yet. And it was better that I get the practice now. Swarm Aspect was dangerously close to evolving, and I didn't know what changes that would bring. Fahria didn't really comment as she knew why I was doing it, and Novas, bless his slimy heart, simply did not care when I next saw him.
Speaking of whom, just one day before I had to face Lady Ayn, and one day after testing the fly husks, my crystal activated, and I found myself once again in the forensics office and looking at a murder victim. That was odd because while the security guild's regular investigators were looking into every missing person report with the threat of Kalist looming, we hadn't actually had many cases that required the touch of a forensics mage.
This one was an exception, obviously. The victim was recovered from Gerankir or even in the poorer parts of the surface city. No, he was found dead, leaning practically right next to the Illustris palace. And that made it a problem. Either he was put there as a statement or the killers were interrupted before they could get rid of the body, and either way, our mercantile overlords in the council were very interested in solving this mystery.
"Day 29 of the Month of Coronation. Junior coroners Anya Hartford and Novas will now commence the examination of the body. Preliminary observations show the victim is male and past the prime of their life." I spoke loudly into a brass recording implement. Usually it would be Agitjin who would be saying this part. "Beginning examination."
I activated my augury and hissed as the panicked sensation of drowning filled my mind. Well, it was unpleasant, but certainly enlightening. I touched the body and sure enough, I found water in the lungs.
"No external injuries. Water in lungs." I said for Novas' benefit and the records, he nodded. A tendril of slime emerged from his armor while I sliced the body open for him. A separate tendril grabbed a pen and began writing in a notebook that I then read aloud.
"Water composition in lungs analyzed. Mana and waste concentration is too low for the Nyrum river. Salinity indicates the sea is the origin of the water." I suspected as much, but it was nice to have confirmation. At least he was not asking about Agitjin. I didn't know what the mage had told him, but I trusted that it was not that I was a Godtouched. In any case, he hadn't been talking much, even by his standards. I had a sneaking suspicion that without Agitjin, we were both too similar, too content to let others guide the conversation, and too awkward to steer it casually to talk much. In any case, it was a companionable silence.
Then the scribbling continued, a different manner of lettering that meant it was only for me to read. "Odd mana signature originating from the heart. Can you restart it?" I nodded and extended my biomantic awareness further into the corpse until I was holding the heart in a metaphorical grip.
"Abnormal mana pathways detected on the body. The point of origin is determined to be the deceased's heart. Stimulating the heart now."
Usually a defibrillator or an electric user would suffice, but I could directly stimulate the muscle. I did exactly that, and for one moment I had the odd sensation of flexing and extending a third hand inside a gooey, wet lump. Then the body started shaking violently and fizzling. Lines of fire appeared in a crisscrossing pattern surrounded by great fiery arcs. The stomach bloated as it became the center of the ritual circle that spilled and expanded like liquid light to the floor. I didn't recognize the magic, but I just knew that it was bad.
I retracted my hand and froze time. Medea and I shared our perceptions, the door was too far and without Agitjin, there was no way to shield us before the ritual finished. I didn't know runes and rituals at all, but whatever was happening couldn't be pleasant. Time resumed and the body shuddered and arced so hard that I heard the spine snap. I dove to the ground with Novas as it exploded into a very familiar fire that washed over and around us as a wall of Medea's drones shielded us.
When I fixed the ringing in my ears and stood up again, my gaze fell to the lightly scorched examination table, where an envelope sat innocuously.
Quiraion dammit, just my luck that even Kalist's messages find their way to me. Luck, or maybe fate, a deeper part of me whispered, and I couldn't really ignore it.
"Are you hurt?" I called out and Novas shook his head. I had a couple of bruises from how hard I had thrown myself to the ground but fixing those was trivial. Medea and its drones were lightly scorched, but devouring even just one tree would fix both.
Not long afterward, Enforcers from the Illustris Council came in and took the envelope. Time passed in a whirlwind as both of us had to explain in excruciating detail what exactly we had done over and over again to the enforcers. I even spotted Tiamim at one point but never got the time to talk to her, and judging from her furious expression, that was probably for the better.
Not even thirty minutes later, an enforcer came with a different body that seemed to be missing its head entirely. They placed it rather gingerly on the examination table and slid over to whisper urgently to Tiamim whose face soured even more than before, if that was possible. Tiamim clapped her hands and cleared her throat.
"I am afraid that we will all be busy throughout the night now."
"What's going on?"
"The Wyrmlord Kalist has decided to play a game, or to just fuck with us. Either or. The message you and Novas recovered led us to the location of another corpse in an abandoned house with a kobold inside. The kobold exploded, but not before the corpse was retrieved. There is no message hidden inside it this time, but I doubt he just wanted to kill a couple of enforcers. That is what we are going to figure out."
"And I am here as a liaison between you and the High Council. I am authorized to provide you with whatever resources and personnel you require over the course of this examination." The enforcer spoke, and I felt a slip of paper appear in my pocket. I did not immediately check it. It would not be slipped in like that if it was for Novas' and Tiamim's eyes. I could imagine what the contents of this letter were, however.
Then another enforcer appeared, with Agitjin floating in behind him. He pointedly avoided looking at me as he landed on his feet and strode over to the body.
"We are aware that Savant Agitjin has left your department, Guildmistress Tiamim. But this is an emergency, and we do not have the time to fast-track another mana savant through security clearance and acclimatize them to your methodology. Rest assured that the High Council will be handling his remuneration." The enforcer explained smoothly and Tiamim nodded. Novas walked over to his friend, who glanced at him and then briefly met my eyes. Then we both turned away at almost the same time. Thankfully, Tiamim interjected before it could any more awkward.
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"Day 29 of the Month of the Coronation. Time is 1294. Chief Coroner and Guildmistress Tiamim of the Aurum Bolt Security Guild heading the autopsy of victim 938407B with junior coroners Anya Hartford and Novas, and contracted coroner Agitjin Gui. Commencing the examination."
"For the desk of the Illustris Council only. Preliminary autopsy findings and conclusions. The victim appears to have been killed by decapitation. He also displays signs of hyperthermia from a preliminary examination. Kobold involvement is likely the source of the heat. Findings incongruent with the injuries and cause of death determined for victim 938407A. Mana corruption not detected. Final Memories contain the impressions of heat and hunger. Coroner Anya also notes that usually victims have other tangents and thoughts, but this specimen appears to have only thought about heat and hunger, with no complex emotions or associations present. Coroner Agitjin found no notable mana signatures and also notes that the victim seems to have an abnormally underdeveloped mana circulation remnants. It is unknown if it was destroyed deliberately or if the victim has an attunement insensitivity. Coroner Novas detected no notable chemical traces. Individually, these oddities would be worthy of investigation nonetheless. Together, they point to the conclusion that the victim was not a person but a human artificially grown and matured before the brain had time to form the neuron connections for higher mental functions. Further examination will now begin."
"For the eyes of the Chief Coroner only. Further examination of the body, while still necessary, is now a lower priority than the retrieval, or if required, the elimination of one Parciv Hink. A biomancer from Middle Gerankir, he specializes in growing human bodies. Living human bodies with butchered prefrontal cortexes and amygdalas, selectively and surgically atrophied brains from the embryonic stage to create an organism that was functionally a human but stripped of all higher mental functions. Obligate cannibals and classers looking to test their skills in an ethical manner constitute the majority, but not all, of his clientele. His skill set poses an incredible danger when combined with the Wyrmlord's capabilities of Kobold creation. He could be creating an army as we write. The Underlords have been made aware of the danger as well, and have graciously allowed for an entourage of enforcers and their own forces to mobilize for the operation. There is however a problem, for some reason unknown to us, there is a mana-signature locked location in Hink's residence, and it seems to have been attuned to the mana signature of Junior Coroner Hartford. While breaking through is not impossible, doing so in a timely manner, without causing catastrophic damage to the very foundations of this city, is. We are requisitioning Junior Coroner Hartford, effective immediately, to this operation."
Before leaving, I slipped away for a moment to confirm that yes, my meeting with Lady Ayn was delayed. I checked my face with Medea to ensure nothing was sagging or loose or even damaged, and adjusting it while making faces as needed. I would probably need to peel it off very soon, but it would stay on the way. Not only that, but I would be spared the second glances on the street. Satisfied, after another minute of adjustment, I was interrupted by Agitjin walking up to me, expression tight.
"This is what being a Godtouched is like, and will be, until your task is done. For you and anyone else unlucky enough to get caught in your accretion disk." I would have rolled my eyes, as if I didn't know. As if I didn't think of it all as my fucking fault. I would have said something too, but then he added. "Be safe. And try not to die. Goodbye." I ended up just nodding stiffly.
The enforcer that had delivered the second body took my hand, and I was struck by how small my own was. Not atrophied but smaller than it should be because of a lifetime of malnourishment, and how much larger their hand was in comparison. A part of me screamed that I had no business being involved here, in this fight between centuries old monsters that could launch bolts of lightning like nukes, or warp flesh into being recognizable with a touch, and existed with many bodies. Then I remembered that the latter two descriptors also applied to me. She who fights monsters then.
My escort was silent as they lifted me into a princess carry with Minidea held in my arms, and we raced to Gerankir.
It was down in Gerankir that I heard a noise that I hadn't heard in months but would recognize anywhere. Gunfire.
Guns here were strange, they could be empowered by skills like anything but were generally seen as auxiliary backup weapons. Melee weapons, bows, even magic, were all fundamentally things that could be directly affected by one's stats. Guns were just chemical reactions and the mechanical forces generated from them. The only things stats could really do were helping with aim, controlling how fast you could pull a trigger, letting one carry a larger gun with a more forceful reaction. Without shooting wildly off course or shattering bones from the recoil, anyways. That was not to say that guns were useless. Fighting someone dual-wielding heavily enchanted tank-sized gatling guns, with each oversized bullet being coated in a layer of piercing mana, would absolutely be a bad time for anyone. That may sound like an oddly specific description, but it was precisely the example used for why guns were favored when dealing with a ton of swarming, mindless threats. Every city guard, every classer without any decent ranged options, and anyone trying to get those precious early classes out but couldn't get into the slime culling program, carried one after all.
I had been considering commissioning a custom handheld harpoon gun for myself. The projectile and the chain would be made of my own bones and connected to my skeleton to make use of my mana empowered bone. Then I realized that too was a stupid idea. Tethering myself to an enemy who could yank me around or reel me in with the chain was just asking for death, when I was not even that overwhelming in close-quarters. Medea with its ability to disperse into tiny chrysalids at will? It could use one as a gap closer and a ranged option. Biomancying an organic launcher based on quick muscle contraction like a chameleon's tongue was not hard, but it did not solve my own ranged issue. Ultimately, I had to conclude that the classics were considered such for a reason, and vowed to learn how to shoot a gun properly. The point is that guns still had a place in this world, and some idiot was firing one into the air while angrily arguing with someone else. In Gerankir, upper Gerankir it may be, but it was still Gerankir. Around me, people's hands slipped to their own barely hidden guns, and I was very aware that regular people here had been militarized and on edge well before Kalist had returned. All of these observations, these thoughts, they all happened in one frozen moment as my escort never stopped. Time resumed and the crowded flashed away.
Here in upper Gerankir, one could not walk two blocks without running into a checkpoint. Strange contraptions with glass spheres in them emitted magical pulses, and the guilders watched with suspicious eyes until the pulses dispersed. Eventually, I knew that one of those pulses would not disperse but react, and hundreds of enforcers would fall onto the checkpoint while quarantine protocols isolate the city into smaller cut-off chunks. Even the ones below would allow it. Maybe it would even happen tonight. The enforcer who carried me flashed a card and was let through. The card would break by morning, even enforcers could not be trusted to not be subverted forever.
My thoughts wandered to the biomancer, Hink. I had yet to find someone with such a skill set or biological need, but obligate cannibalism was a thing nonetheless, and on paper that was his primary trade. I would never say it, but I suspected that the bulk of his sales were divided into two groups of people. Those like me that needed test subjects for their skills, not just because it was ethical but because it was cheap, and people that just wanted a disposable human body for their proclivities. They just didn't want to go to the flesh markets at the bottom of Gerankir. If I could, I would have gone down there and destroyed the markets, but there lurked people that even Valdima didn't fuck with. And I was told in no uncertain terms that if I ventured down there, I would emerge a cognitomancied slave without any doubt. At least they were also doing their own thing to find Kalist, and they would send word if he was found and vice versa. The uneasy truce between the powerful classers above and below that still let the city function even with rising gang violence would immediately transform into a pact to end the dragon once and for all.
I had been given a basic dossier on Parciv Hink before leaving. The biomancer even had brain-dead bodies kept alive through a secondary organic apparatus attached to it. The secondary organism was not unlike what I could do by vascularizing and hooking up a sample to Medea to prevent tissue necrotization. It was just better and could do fun things like stimulating the pituitary gland and even replicating a stress response. Too bad that Kalist's own kobold transformation made the flesh immune to my biomancy or Medea's integration.
Soon after that, way too soon, honestly, a massive set of gates leading to an enormous circular black building stood before us. Medea leapt out of my arms as I was set down. The enforcer turned an expressionless masked face to me and spoke.
"Do not venture anywhere alone. I cannot ensure your safety otherwise, and I will incapacitate you if you start compromising the mission."
A rectangular door opened up in the building, and I walked through after the enforcer, scooping up a miniature Medea along the way. Inside, a small floating bridge led me to a disk-shaped platform. Iron rails and gates that looked rather modern encircled the platform, and they simply folded themselves out of the way as I stepped on it. Green lights turned on from the cylindrical shaft below in steps. Illumination climbed upwards until we were bathed in green, and I could see stains and patchy paint on the shaft walls glow. The enforcer turned to me, their mask also turning green under the harsh, almost industrial light. The familiar jerky, halting motion of an old elevator moving followed.
And down we went into the belly of the beast.