Path of the Deathless (Book 2 Completed)

174 (II)

Riot [III]

"That makes two of us," Shiv muttered. Still, this was a glimpse of power beyond his. With his Legendary Skill, Shiv possessed unmatched control and power compared to his prior Skill Evolutions. Yet, he was still limited in many ways. Without evolving more supporting skills, his Legendary Skill wouldn't reach its full potential. But more than that, a divine domain was something Shiv had no comprehension of at all. He'd never heard Valor or anyone else speak of such a thing. "What is a divine domain anyway?"

Cripple hesitated before answering. "It is when a skill becomes a dimension unto itself. It is when you go beyond the bounds of ordinary power and begin to set your own rules."

"Does a Delve eventually become this?" Shiv asked.

The Ascendant didn't answer that question; instead, it spoke to another concern. "I am keeping you safe here, but I cannot hold you for long. Our time to speak is short, and the dangers facing us are many. I intervened on your behalf because I knew Daughter would be tempted to claim your life for one of her Avatars."

"Well, that explains why it felt like she was trying to kill me instead of taking me alive," Shiv grumbled. "And the other Ascendants just let her, huh?"

"No. She was not supposed to act this way, but she listens to few people aside from her mother, Maiden the Genius. And as you have hurt Maiden's child, there will be consequences. Know this, Deathless. Prepare yourself."

"There are already consequences," Shiv shot back. "Putting me in this prison is a consequence. Ripping me away from Blackedge is a consequence. Using Adam as bait to lure and threaten me is going to be a felling consequence. I know damned well the cost of my actions. Do you know the weight behind yours?"

"I grow increasingly doubtful by the minute," Cripple responded. "Stormhalt has returned—and he is not in chains. This is unacceptable."

"And you're surprised?" Shiv said, frowning at how naive Cripple seemed. "He's an Avatar and a City Lord."

"He is but a citizen of the Republic. And we have laws. Rules. Edicts. An Avatar is a vessel for the divine to inflict their judgment and mete justice upon the land. Yet, Halsur and Kathereine have found a questionable pawn."

"Really? That's how we're describing all this?" Shiv shook his head in disgust. "Look. Cripple, you pulled my ass out of the fire just now, so let me help you pull your head out of your ass as thanks: Stormhalt despises Roland. He hates Roland so much that his hatred is probably a fourth of the size of mine."

The divine mana around Shiv shook. "Was that a joke?"

"No," Shiv replied, dead serious.

Cripple let out a single chuckle anyway. Then grunted in grim acceptance. "I understand that there are points of contention between my siblings. It is an ill thing to accept. Kathereine and Halsur are beyond my ability to punish. The former, especially. I… There is much I owe her. Things I cannot repay."

Shiv was about to open his mouth, but the deity leveled its gaze at him. "You may ask, but I will not answer."

Shiv wanted to push, but his Psycho-Cartography Skill warned against it. He was getting a much better understanding of Cripple. The automaton Ascendant was an honorable Pathbearer—perhaps a little too rigid. From everything that Kathereine and Halsur had done, they seemed to be on the other side of the honor spectrum. But when Cripple spoke of Kathereine, Shiv detected a hint of fear and regret in its voice. Cripple wanted to do something, but it couldn't act. Not openly.

Hence, it came to Shiv. The Deathless was getting a faint understanding of the unseen games being played between the Ascendants even now.

And he found it a bit exciting.

Maybe I really should consider politics at some point, Shiv thought to himself. If I manage to live that long. The System really wants me dead. But… Well, come and get me.

"Fine, keep your secrets," Shiv finally said. "I'll dig them out some other way. But let's get to the point that matters. You wanted to speak with Adam as well, right? Well, the only way we're going to be able to do that is if I know where he is and if I can get him out."

"I have a guess as to where they are keeping him in detention," Cripple said. "He is near the mana core, in the White Rooms."

Shiv really didn't like the sound of White Rooms. "Alright. So can you teleport me there or something? Give a shortcut through your Domain?"

"This is not how my Domain functions. More importantly, I cannot allow the other Ascendants to know that I have openly aided you. Right now, Daughter's story will only account for the fact that you bested my Avatar and that the destabilization of its body caused her banishment. Anything more overt will have the others too suspicious."

"Which is why we don't have long to talk in the first place," Shiv said, connecting another set of dots. "I'm going to have to go after Adam alone, then?"

"That is the case," Cripple said, though it sounded slightly ashamed. "It will not be easy. Stormhalt and the other Avatars will be waiting for you there. They know about your Outside Context Problem Skill."

Shiv clenched his fists as a rage born of worry welled up inside him. "Shit. How—wait. Adam… They must've reached into his mind. Fuck. Are they going to do something to his mind? Make him a mind-slave or something?"

"I don't know," Cripple said. "They have enclosed a section of the prison, and the rest of my companions are at odds with each other. Halsur and Kathereine are holding to a narrative. But it is clear that a narrative is all it is. With the Starhawk absent, the only ones that might be able to speak in his stead are you and Young Lord Adam. Right now, he is in Stormhalt's custody."

"I heard enough," Shiv said. "Tell me where he is and let me out of this place."

"Beware. Divided though the others are about what to do with Adam Arrow, there is no contention about what must be done with you." Cripple paused. "Little to no contention. Daughter is unpredictable."

"She's an insane child that became a god," Shiv spat back. "And I don't care if every last Pathbearer in Integration is preparing to ambush me alongside the Ascendants. I'm getting Adam back, and we're getting out—"

"Use the prisoners," Cripple interrupted.

"What?" Shiv asked.

"The Legendary-Tier prisoners of the Nadir," Cripple continued, sounding more than a little uncomfortable with what it was telling Shiv. "Many of them feel wronged by us. And many will do anything to get their way. Alone, you are certain to fail, but should you be able to gather and direct the other Legends imprisoned in the Well, there might be a way. You might be able to create an opening to save your friend. I am calling back my wardens. The other Ascendants have decided to use the prison break as an excuse to decide Adam's fate while I am absent. I know this. They will never admit this. Just as I will never admit to calling back my wardens and letting the prisoners run rampant."

Shiv updated his opinion of Cripple. The automaton was only a certain kind of honorable. When the moment called for it, Cripple was more than capable of being downright dirty. The Deathless smirked. "I understand. I'll see what I can do with the prisoners. Don't exactly have a Leadership Skill, but I did get a Feat from hurting Daughter. Let's see how well fear works as a motivator."

A hum of agreement came from Cripple. "But as I do this, I need a promise from you. The fact that you are returning for your friend has revealed to me who you are—so I will demand your honor and word as a Pathbearer that you allow none of them to escape when this is done."

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Shiv considered that for a moment. He considered lying, but his nature was direct and truthful. Cripple hadn't bullshitted him so far, and if the Ascendant was trying to do him a good turn, Shiv didn't want to make a mess of things even if it would make freeing Adam harder. "Not sure if I can promise that, Cripple. I got a few of them with me right now. A wolf-man called Five and Rebis. Rebis is—"

"I know of them," Cripple said, voice hard. "The Lupine is not who he says he is. He is an agent of Aviary. He has been here for ten years, and here he must stay until he surrenders his cell. Only after will I consider returning him to the Stolen Throne."

"What?" Cripple's claim caught Shiv entirely off guard. "He's what?"

"Rebis… The Pathbearers used to create him should have been executed. One was Ivar Locke—mass murderer and mind-defiler. Preference for mentally mutilating and enslaving the young and defenseless. The other was Helium-3. Traitor to the Republic and the one responsible for the collapse of Washpoint Fortress."

"What's a Washpoint Fortress?"

"You do not know?" Cripple asked, surprised. "How? Even children know about this."

"Yeah, well, Roland Arrow was big on everyone's education but mine." Shiv sighed. "Alright. So. Rebis is made from two utter bastards. But he's just confused right now."

"Which is why I said he should have died," Cripple echoed. "But Enoch has needs, and just as you have loyalty to your own, so too do I have loyalty to mine. I need your promise here. I do not need you to pacify the other prisoners. I simply ask that you leave them behind should you succeed in rescuing Young Lord Arrow. The prisoners here are a danger to the Republic, the Legends especially. They cannot be allowed to roam free."

"And I'm safe?" Shiv said, slightly sarcastically.

"Absolutely not. But I wish to know why the System is so determined to see you dead. Moreover, I will need your aid to reach Matthew. I think… I wish to speak with him about the Great One, and the ritual we are to perform."

***

Brightness.

That was the first thing Adam noticed as consciousness slowly returned to him. His mind throbbed with pulsing pain, and his body felt like it had been broken into pieces, ground beneath a giant's heel, before finally being pasted back together. The parts of him that didn't hurt were utterly numb, and worse, his bladder was screaming at him, begging him to relieve himself.

Low, droning voices pounded against his skull, like war drums going off beside his ears. The Gate Lord tried to speak, but all that came out of his throat was a hoarse whisper. He tried to move, yet felt his body bound tight. Worse, his muscle fibers were on fire. Even the slightest twitch sent waves of pain radiating through him. This time, he didn't give a hoarse cry; a loud hiss escaped him. He tried to writhe in pain, but that only made everything worse.

Adam was caught in a cycle of agony.

When he finally finished shuddering, he heard someone speak for the first time, their voice pounding through his ears, like he was breaking out from underwater. "He's waking up. Finish with him."

Before Adam could say anything else, a burst of thunderous pain circulated through his nerves. He tried to arc his back, but he was held tight in place, and the bands that clutched him refused to budge at all. His sinews no longer felt like they were on fire. Instead, they itched as never before, and were promptly drawn taut. It was like his body was trying to stretch itself apart, and no matter how much he tried to fight it, it wouldn't stop. Adam had never had a whole-body cramp before, but now that he did, he never wanted to experience it again.

Flashing memories pulsed before his eyes. He remembered flickers of what happened just hours before. He remembered arriving too late to save Shiv from the Ascendants. He remembered the Tarrasque retaliating, driving its body deep into the underside of Blackedge. He remembered a battle that followed, flashes of impossible violence, immense devastation. And then he remembered being struck by something he couldn't quite recall. But he remembered being struck so hard that everything inside him broke, even with the protection of his Legendary armor.

Adam felt weightless, weightless in the present, and weightless in the past. He was floating, his body was light, and soon he couldn't feel his body at all. His experience became one of utter depersonalization, and soon, he found himself staring at his own form from the third person. He was over the skies of Los Angeles again, twirling, blood spilling out from his mouth, from his eyes, from his every orifice.

The Tarrasque hung high in the sky, usurping the position of the sun, and its form was bathed in incandescent fire. Divine mana clawed at the beast's magnificent body, but it wouldn't come asunder. It refused to die.

Without Shiv present, no one could rip the vitality free from the Tarrasque, and it fought on. Yet the Ascendants kept it controlled, wreathed in nets of awesome flame. With a blast of world-shaking force, they flung it skyward.

At some point, Adam struck the ground, and he found himself blasting through debris. A curtain of dust rose high into the air and settled over his broken body as a blanket, and through the haze, he saw Blackedge, damaged, crumbling, on the verge of falling apart. But then there came a flash, a flash of color, a flash of incandescence, a flash guided by thick streams of translucence.

Some part of Adam's mind, what little of him still remained in that moment, recognized Uva's power for what it was. Her Psychomancy threads were now as large as buildings, and from them leaked both the impossible colors of the outside and the Starhawk's blessing.

A twitch of jealousy passed through Adam. He would have loved to serve in his father's stead. He would have done anything the Starhawk demanded if it meant saving his town, if it meant protecting his friends. But it wasn't to be. He wasn't to be. In that very moment, he knew he was dying, knew there were things inside him broken, almost certainly beyond repair.

And unlike when he fought the Recollector, he wasn't scared. Not scared at all. Instead, he felt a sense of peace, as if he were an empty vessel. He had done everything he could, strained himself beyond what anyone could ask for, and now he'd fallen—fallen, but not been beaten.

Blackedge was swallowed by brighter and brighter colors as a massive fissure opened over it. The town rose, and just as it did, Adam noticed a massive shape descending from on high. The Tarrasque returned, and trails of frayed incandescence clung to its body. It screamed out, bellowing the Starhawk's name, bellowing vengeance against Roland Arrow. But just as it was about to tear through the town, just as a tidal wave of devastation was dragged in its wake, Blackedge vanished entirely, passing into that eldritch outside that bordered reality.

Adam laughed weakly. Laughed as, even though the fate of his town was uncertain, for even though he didn't know what was going to happen to his friends, to his family, Blackedge would not fall at the hands of the Tarrasque, nor would it be destroyed by the Ascendants. No, for a little while longer, his home would endure.

And then the Tarrasque struck the ground, and Adam exhaled. The world shook. The surface upon which he lay was sundered utterly and completely. Adam found himself flung away, and once more he was weightless. He surrendered himself to the sensations. Yet, a moment before a massive piece of debris descended to greet him, a cloud of static shadow clashed over his form and clenched him tight, drawing him across space itself.

And somewhere during the teleportation process, the darkness of Dimensionality became the darkness of unconsciousness.

Now he was back, still alive, but wishing he wasn't. The pain was bad. "Broken Felling Moon!" Adam cried out as a rush of fire seared through his every nerve. His eyes snapped open fully, and he found himself staring up at a brightly lit ceiling. The Gate Lord blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurriness from his vision. His ears were ringing as well, and his heart hammered inside his chest, threatening to burst from his ribcage.

He was still severely disoriented, but he saw spell patterns dancing around him. He was inside a teleportation anchor of some kind. Adam shook his head. No, not a teleportation anchor.

This resembled a medical chamber. He saw a strange, twirling mechanism hanging over him, and it had dangling blades and small fingers twitching on its underside. As it drew back, a cube-like face looked down at Adam, and the many eyes that dotted it flickered.

Automaton, Adam thought. His mind felt sluggish, but he recognized the mechanical entity for what it was.

"A pair of clusters reconnected," the mechanical Pathbearer declared, and it leaned back. A whirling, whirring sound followed, and Adam tried to turn his head. It was a considerable struggle for him to do even that. To his right, he saw a tall, elven woman clad in a white coat.

She wore a transparent face shield made from glass, and specks of Adam's blood dotted its oblong surface. She regarded him without expression, and a faint hint of red mana seeped out from her fingers. That was the color of Biomancy, and if he could see it right now…

Adam took a look at his notifications, and his eyes widened. He hadn't gained Biomancy, but most of his skills had taken a massive leap.

Skybearer's Strength 100 (Skill Evolution Imminent)

Hydromancy 50 (Skill Evolution Imminent)

Repulsion Shroud 100 (Skill Evolution Imminent)

Tactical Overseer 100 (Skill Evolution Imminent)

My Toughness leveled over ten times, Adam thought to himself. How hard did that damn Tarrasque bloody hit me? And how am I even still alive? Broken Moon, why am I alive… Gods, the pain…

"Is he stabilized?"

The elven Biomancer looked away from Adam and gave the unseen speaker a nod. "He is, Master-Avatar."

"Good. Leave us."

"Master-Avatar," Adam muttered. The room around him darkened momentarily, and Adam thought they were turning off the lights. But then he realized he was on the verge of blacking out again. He shook his head, forced himself to stay awake. Though fatigue and agony gripped his body, he wanted to face whoever held him prisoner and tell them to sit on a knife.

Three thumping steps sounded in the now-empty room. Three thumping steps that made Adam's pulse climb and his anxiety worsen as he looked up at his captor for the first time.

Adam let out a miserable sigh—which turned into a vicious sneer.

"City Lord Stormhalt," Adam slurred. He tried not to, but part of his mouth wasn't working right. "I should be calling you father-in-law by now, but alas, some unforeseen problems interrupted my wedding. You wouldn't happen to know who caused them, would you?"