Godclads

Surrender.

Such is the indignity you inflicted upon my father. The same poison has touched my mother, touched me, touched every living being left in existence.

For you are the tyrant of want — desire made divine.

All humans want, and when we see our desires made manifest; the ones we yearn to have, the lives we wish to enjoy, the power so intoxicating to possess—these things infest us more than we embody them. Love is like a contagion, distorting our actions, breaking us from wisdom, depriving us of control.

Control. So few have ever felt it. So few know its blessing. It is through the enlightenment of control that I have been spared your corruption.

And the worst thing about you, Remembrance, is that you aren’t even conscious at all. Just a hollowed godly carcass we stitched together as a blessing for our power.

Do you know how many Gods and Goddesses of Love we had to break to create you, Remembrance? Do you know how many trillions died nourishing your predecessors? How much loss and bloodshed was invested in your glory?

And all for naught. All for nothing. You were another one of my father’s gifts. A crown of gold for a world composed of people too unworthy to serve as proper slaves. But he loved us. All of us. Well and true. And so you touched him. So you made him betray himself. Even before your ontology was made true, and your miracles were made manifest, you unraveled his spirit.

He suffers now. He suffers because you planted a seed of weakness in his heart. Love wore his body. But he was made to be clad by you. How disgustingly paradoxical. But worry not. I love him too. But my love is a higher thing. A weakness I have broken and recast with control—my will, above all other wills; this emotion mine to wield.

You will fall.

Not by my hand. No. I will not strike you. There is no need. There is no pathway toward the future in which you remain intact. Even now, my allies and enemies are reaching into you, trying to attune your canons to their purpose. They create planar pockets for their deniable experiments. They wish to use you as an incubator of life and death; and to sterilize their adversaries.

You will fall because you were fated to fall. Love is its own undoing.

For that, you have my pity and even. It is good that you were never aware, Remembrance. You would have learned to hate this existence.

-Veylis Avandaer

28-12

Lover’s Quarrel (V)

Jaus Avandaer. Savior of Idheim. Godbreaker. Betrayer. Murderer of Pantheons. Father of the Ensouled.

By feat or legend, all knew Jaus, and his manifestation within Avo's Soulscape drew a crowd unlike any other. The faintness of his form came together at the center of an intersection. The world around him was a dreamlike expanse, burning megablocks stacked right up against each other. This was an architecture connected by dilapidated bridges and half-destroyed light rail tubes.

This simulated section of memories was more akin to a trench line, used as a playground by enforcers, Regulars, and combatants alike. Templates fought, died, and hunted each other here. The entire space spanned hundreds of thousands of kilometers, the overall aesthetics seeming as if a hive assembled from random architectural permutations.

Jaus upon a small, sunken street, its placement seeming as if an amphitheater before megablocks turned audience stands. Millions of templates manifested on rooftops, behind windows, held together on street corners, or simply hovered in the sky above. None of them approached Jaus—most too awed, some too fearful, few outright suspicious.

Avo himself spent some time examining the mem-data he had just consumed. Of all the things he expected to encounter in his attempt to save Kae, finding a lingering remnant of Jaus Avandaer wasn't one. What startled him even more was the Necrotheurgic sequencing of Jaus Avandaer's consciousness.

Worse, Hysteria trembled as Avo continued his dive. Defiance had left his touch here. The craftsmanship could not be denied. Applying that to the numerous blind spots that existed within this version of Jaus's memories, Avo suspected that he was dealing with a node created from the original savior himself.

That thought, more than any other, impelled the Overheaven to adopt a stance of paranoia. However, Avo detected no war minds hidden within Jaus's node. He didn't even have any trauma patterns to unleash. Short of any unexpected surprises, Jaus was effectively harmless.

But all good Necrojacks knew damage to be the least efficient way of manipulating another's mind.

As Jaus Avandaer got his bearings, he swept his gaze over his surroundings. The million templates gathered to see him. Avo took a moment to regard him as well. His hair was short, orderly, neat. A golden whorl curved leftward upon his forehead, and his facial features looked sharp, possessed of a healthy gauntness. Jaus's eyes flashed twice, and his irises gleamed with a soothing white glow. He wore a simple brown suit with a biosynthetic turtleneck on the inside, but his shoes stood in contrast to the ensemble, seeing as they were rugged combat boots instead of any kind of formal wear.

+Hello,+ Jaus Avandaer said, greeting the many who were present. +I seem to have gotten a little bit lost. I don't think I should be here. But then again, I have a suspicion that this statement applies in more ways than one.+ He smiled genuinely, his mind dry of anxiety or fear. +Could someone please tell me where I am right now? The area is quite well-designed and… novel. Does this place have a name?+

The templates' silence lingered even after he spoke. But they weren't reluctant to speak—more like they were choked with disbelief. Ultimately, it was Avo who broke the impasse, deciding to greet Jaus not in the form of the Strix, but rather using his ephemeral avatar, his original sheath: the enhanced ghoul.

Ghostly tendrils wove a new shape across from Jaus, and faintly, Avo heard voices speak to him in the back of his mind.

[Be careful now,] Draus said, her paranoia exceeding his. [Ain't no reason for him to be here. Could be any kind of trap. You know how Noloth is. Be ready to gnaw him at any time. Be ready to eject this sequence out of your mind.]

Incubi pinged Avo, reminding him they were on standby and also monitoring the situation. They were fascinated by Jaus's appearance, but weren't ruled by him. Instead, they waited for additional orders, prepared to react per the conditions of the gestalt's progenitor.

[Be very, very fucking careful,] Corner said, but he was worried about something else entirely. [This is Jaus Avandaer. Whatever you do, even if he's a fake, don't just null him in front of everyone. If he’s… a plant… do him with some dignity. He godsdamned deserves it.]

And finally, Kae spoke as well, offering her input. [Avo, I don't know why he's here, but I don't think that the Famines could have accessed the Heaven of Love. N-not easily, anway. Think of this: Jaus Avandaer has been found inside the root data of this heaven. The root data cannot be accessed without the help of an Agnos. There are only so few people in New Vultun—oh no, Idheim—who can access this heaven like we have, especially after it fell. Ephemerals—they can’t survive the Rend, and the subreality of a Soul cannot simply be jacked into. I think this was put in before it collapsed. It is the most likely explanation. If this is a trap by Noloth, then they have been planning it for centuries. Which… why haven’t they used it against us?]

Avo grunted in acknowledgment. The Agnos wasn’t wrong. There were too many pieces missing and too much inactivity on the part of major parties for this to be planned. Increasingly, he suspected that maybe no one else knew Jaus was hidden here. A node of him, anyway.

As Avo continued digesting Jaus mem-data, he decided to engage the template properly in conversation. Something about that just felt right to Avo—and it was something he wanted to do. He knew Jaus by pain and agony. Now, perhaps gazing upon his mental shadow would grant Avo insight into the man’s former glory.

Avo finished manifesting his avatar two meters away from Jaus, and the surrounding templates shuffled in discomfort, tension straining their minds and expressions. They were clearly uncertain about what was to follow. Most of them adored Jaus. A good portion of them despised Avo, though their animosity could not be considered pure hatred anymore.

As Avo faced Jaus, another submind slid into place, taking over the Kae’s rescue and the Remembrance’s restoration.

Entropy spiked hard as all across New Vultun, battles raged, and Avo fough in every one.

+Why, what a specimen you are,+ Jaus said, regarding Avo with widening eyes. He remained absent of fear, guided by curiosity alone, even when faced with a near three-meter-tall monster sprouting obsidian tendrils that leaked spore-like particulates into the air. +Not sure if I have ever seen something like you. Are you sapient? Or a creation of the daughters of the cycle?+

Daughters. He was speaking of the Sang. +Not a bioform.+

+Ah. As I suspected. Still. Your sheathe is artistically feral.+

[That’s one fucking way of describing nightmarish fungal monster,] Glitch murmured.

+There isn't a name to this place,+ Avo said, giving Jaus a delayed answer. +Not a proper location. More like a collection of memories. A randomized assortment of data. +

Jaus looked around himself once more and frowned. +I'm inside your mental lobby?+ he asked.

+In simplicity,+ Avo replied.

+I… must confess I couldn’t tell. It is quite well constructed. I am keen about patterns—I should have noticed. You must be a master.+ Jaus’ face turned inscrutable. And then he spoke again. +Defiance? Might that be you?+

Avo’s mind promptly went blank. Jaus continued talking. +I suspect that this isn’t me. I… I am missing far too many memories. I feel… the same as I did before… But there are patches of nothing here. Too many stretches of nothing between major moments that define my past. My shell is whole, but the substance is deprived.+

Sweeping through Jaus’ composition, Avo was inclined to agree. The only reason he hadn’t passed any immediate judgment was uncertainty. Uncertainty if this even was Jaus. Uncertainty if he was a threat.

But once more, like so many times before—as he been there are the start of this journey—Walton’s shadow loomed. And his reach stretched far and true.

+He was my creator,+ Avo said, speaking honestly. There was no point to lie. Not here, not in his own mind.

Jaus nodded at that, offering Avo a genial smile. +I thought so. The quality of your mindscape. It matches his. Flawless.+

As soon as Jaus finished speaking those words, Avo ran a few thousand different scenarios in inactive sections of his consciousness. Could Jaus and Walton have been working together this entire time? No, that didn't make sense at all. Timeframes between different events for one, how Walton operated as a rogue asset against the Guilds, the Hungers, even Ninth Column… If Jaus was his ally, then Zein wouldn’t be Walton’s enemy.

Then there was the potential that this node of Jaus was created by Walton, manifested by a dive through the paths somehow. Unlikely as well. The Famine of Defiance was a master of many things, but Veylis stood queen above chronology. He couldn't have gained access through her.

Avo’s brief series of simulations continued running as Jaus spoke again. +My friendship with Defiance is, lamentably, only theoretical. I had sought to pry him away from the others in his priesthood. To inspire him toward freedom and self-determination. I lived countless lives in the paths. Ran iteration after iteration using variables collected from Defiance’s broken nodes. The Infacer aided my efforts greatly, but even the mind couldn’t have suspected what I was trying to do. Doubtless, they thought I was trying to ensure the eradication of Noloth. Not so. Not so.+

+Then what?+ Avo asked.

+Their great wrong is gluttony. But I do not blame them. They are a civilization dying under the weight of compounding fear. They wish to be eternal, they wish to be right, and they wish to be preserved. And such a wish rendered them into a self-reinforcing tyranny against themselves and the world beyond. A shame. It will bring me great pride to see the many citizens of Noloth eventually freed. But I needed access to them first. And so I was… created. As a lure for Defiance.+

Avo listened, utterly enraptured.

+I… I feel this to be correct. Yes. I—the original Jaus, lived through path after path, experienced countless moments that could have been with Defiance. And managed a creation. The installation of his consciousness in broken captured nodes. These nodes—near perfect facsimiles of consciousness, were true enough egos to infuse into a Liminal Frame—but without enough weight to sink into a Soul. Or at least, the nodes Jaus created were. Again, I am shell and not substance. I remained among the root data. Remained in the dark for so, so long.+

+Why? You did all this just to get Defiance’s attention?+

+I wished to surprise him. To have a conversation with him. Just us two alone. Nodes spawned from our original selves, speaking in this sunken realm, away from prying eyes. He was the spy for a reason—-he was the dream of a Wahakten who could accept his great sin, and thereby culture beyond Noloth as well. Through him, I wished to reach the Hungers again, somehow. Begin their rehabilitation and restoration even across the veil.+

A few things became clear at Avo at this point. This version of Jaus knew nothing of Defiance’s betrayal; their knowledge was far out of date. But the question was if what Jaus had done became the trigger behind Defiance’s turn in the first place.

In fact, more pieces were sliding into place. For a long time, Avo found himself awed by Walton’s foresight; the Famine had outplayed Godclads and Guilds, bested and stolen from Zein, Veylis, Voidwatch, Omnitech, and the Noloth itself. His achievements in subterfuge were beyond legendary in that regard, to a degree Avo found absurd.

Even now, there were caches scattered across the city. And an unrepaired node gifted back to Avo via the Infacer.

But with what Jaus was saying, considering Jaus had been seeding various Heavens with his own nodes—

+How did you know Defiance would ever access a node?+ Avo said, putting a sudden question into words.

Jaus tilted his head and smiled at that. +Because that’s how the Infacer typically manages to entrap his nodes. Defiance… he strays from rules sometimes. He is not repulsed by thaumaturgy or potential power like the others. He accepts what needs to be done. He sinks into communal Heavens and vulnerable Frames alike. And so I planted these seeds to wait for him. Across countless Heavens, I waited for him.+

And across countless Heavens, an even greater conspiracy had been brewing beyond Avo’s awareness—beyond even Walton’s awareness.

The Overheaven was practically numb with disbelief. It wasn’t that Defiance was genius beyond all other geniuses, it was that he was likely getting hidden pieces of insight—had intelligence offered by Jaus himself stolen from potential futures. The Famine must have revealed the state of the world to Jaus’ many nodes, and upon returning, been flipped.

Of all the players in this game, Jaus Avandaer remained the most insidious of them all—and possibly even unintentionally.

[Holy fucking shit,] Benhata breathed, tone dry with disbelief.

+You said Defiance made you,+ Jaus said, observing Avo. +If that is the case, then my nodes must have affected him. Enough for him to accept my words on legacy. To give his son a symbolic resurrection. Good. I’m glad. He deserves to give himself some forgiveness. And he has made something magnificent in you. This iteration of me could have been discovered by no one else—-no one else is thorough enough; possesses the skill.+

Jaus chuckled at that. +You will not believe how many paths I had to simulate to finally discover how to bridge the gap between me and Defiance. How is he now?+

+He is nothing now. Nothing. Unless a version of him remains.+

That was all Avo needed to say.

Jaus’ expression grew somber. +I see. So then, he rebelled?+

+Yes. Against everything. The Guilds. The Hungers. Plotted. Killed. Betrayed. All to steal a Frame from Veylis. Steal a Frame. Created me. And now here I am. Before you. Took you from the falling Heaven of Love.+

The savior’s expression grew even grimmer. +Oh. This path. It’s falling… Then, that means the Guilds betrayed their oaths and tried to turn love into a weapon. And that… I am dead, aren’t I.+

+No,+ Avo said, speaking honestly. +Wish you were. Would have been a kinder fate. Your daughter… your wife… Might not want to know about these things.+

For the first time, a hint of vulnerability revealed itself behind Jaus’ gaze. +I suspect you are right. I have seen futures that I didn’t wish to accept… But what worth are the wants of a man.+ He exhaled, breathing his lament despite being little more than a configuration of memories. +I thank you for your silence. You have his consideration.+

The casual kindness and compliments from Jaus was making Avo uncomfortable. The certainty and ease the man spoke such words was somehow crushing. Someone couldn’t be that good. That pure. This was a caricature of Jaus—an idealized cognitive construct. It had to be.

+Regardless, as you stand in Defiance’s stead, and you bring news that we are in progress down one of the worst paths, I will convey to you what I planned to reveal to him—let the Heaven fall.+

Avo didn’t expect Jaus to say that. +What?+

+The Heaven of Love. Let it fall. Accelerate its fall. Trust me.+