Phantasm

Fyskel was waiting for me in a white void. This time, I didn’t put an illusion up to make myself more comfortable. I just stared at him.

“No missing memories this time?” I finally asked.

“It seems not,” Fyskel said. “I can’t be sure—if we had access to the memories before they attached to you, we wouldn’t have been so surprised. But I think that well has run dry.”

“No divine convention, either,” I noted.

“Ah… we do apologise for that,” Fyskel said. “We made efforts to ensure that no damage was done, but the human psyche is really only rated for occupancy by one god at a time.”

“Any chance I could get that reduced to zero?” I asked sourly. “I don’t appreciate getting my thoughts all trampled over.”

“You’re upset,” Fyskel said seriously. “And by your lights, you have reason to be. But keep in mind that the only reason that you—and the rest of humanity—have lives to live and thoughts to keep, is that we actively allow it.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t make humanity,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “I’m sure you didn’t make me.”

“So?” Fyskel asked, making a helpless gesture with his hands. “I’m not talking about your origin, I’m talking about now. Letting you live your lives takes not just intention on our part, it takes active, constant restraint.”

“And I’m what, an outlet? A vent for your frustrations?”

“Close. You and the other Champions are… a tiny window, through which we allow ourselves to change the world. Through you, and about you. It’s a way of keeping the collateral damage to a minimum.”

I shuddered. “You’re talking about the God’s War, right? When you talk about damage.”

Fyskel nodded absently. “We came so close to losing you, back then. The scare was enough to convince us—most of us—that being right wasn’t enough.”

“And has this latest revelation about Ix changed anything?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Fyskel replied. “We’re still discussing it. Some of them are very close to being convinced that it isn’t all a setup by yours truly.”

“Can’t imagine why no one trusts you,” I muttered.

He grinned. “I’d care more if I could work out what I was convincing them of,” he said. “Neither of us are sure of what it means.”

I grunted non-committedly. “You’re theory is that Ix—somehow—came from my world, before or after it was destroyed. I’m not sure why, though. Did Ix even have a physical form?”

“No,” Fyskel admitted. “Those came after, well after we discovered humanity. It’s her… essence, I suppose you might say that we recognise. Even through your limited human perception, it shines through.”

“If you say so,” I said doubtfully. “So what does it mean?”

“For all our… everything, our origins have always remained a mystery to us,” Fyskel mused. “Ix always denied creating us, but the doubt never went away.”

“You and Ashmor,” I said slowly. “The two remaining originals.”

“Or… the two second-generation gods, perhaps,” Fyskel said. “Were we of the same order? Would we generate seven more gods from our ashes?”

“I guess you weren’t inclined to experiment,” I said dryly.

“There were no volunteers, no.” replied with amusement.

“I guess I get it,” I said. “If Ix had an origin in my world, and you don’t, then it’s more likely that she made you. Are you sure that you don’t, though? You didn’t spot… Trica until she was right under your nose.”

“That’s possible too,” Fyskel said. “If the data… became us, there might be no copies left in this world. The fragment of Ix that we got from you is the only memory of her left.”

“Wait, so none of the other… souls you can access from my world remember her?” I asked incredulously.

“No… something that is true for all of the people at that investor meeting.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “Except for me,” I said.

“No… now that we look, no one that we can access remembers you,” Fyskel said thoughtfully. “And you didn’t remember that board meeting until recently.”

“That’s… what does that mean?” I asked. If no one remembered me, then.

“Very little for you personally,” Fyskel said bluntly. “It’s not like you can go back and interact with any of those people. For us… it does appear that the gaps in our… repository have a structure and purpose that we weren’t able to see before. That’s interesting.”

“Well thank goodness, you still have a puzzle to keep you interested,” I said sourly. “Is that why you brought me here, to keep me up to date on your latest hobbies?”

“Hmp,” Fyskel sniffed. “For all the ink humanity has spilled on the puzzle of your own origin, I think you could spare a little interest for the origin of my species.”

I shrugged. “I’m a little busy right now,” I said. “Doing this whole Champion thing. I had thought that you were going to be giving me instructions on what to do when we got to the bottom.”

“Oh no. No, no,” Fyskel said. “For one, if I gave you instructions, you’d do your best to ignore them or do the opposite.”

I didn’t bother confirming.

“For another,” Fyskel said, not pausing for me to respond, “The truce still holds. The gods cannot interfere any more than they already have.”

He winked at me.

“At least, not any actions beyond the extremely limited set of options laid out in Section 35~AF$4.”

“I’m crying for you,” I said blandly. “That doesn’t include Ashmor, though.”

“Well, no, but my colleagues and I are paying very close attention to this event, and Ashmor in particular,” Fyskel said. “He’ll find it very hard to do anything.”

“But not impossible,” I said. The difference between hard and impossible became a lot more important when you were talking about the difficulty of immolating us all instantly in a fireball.

“That is almost certainly off the table,” Fyskel said, no doubt just to prove he was reading my mind. “Simple actions like that are easy to stop. The problem with preventing him from doing anything is that there are so many possible things for him to do.”

“Well that’s a great comfort,” I told him. “Seriously though, why am I here?”

Fyskel looked at me closely. “I can’t tell you what to do,” he said. “But I can nudge the odds of what you will do a bit.”

“Are the other gods going to stand for that?” I asked. “Am I going to get a parade of gods after you, lobbying for me to do something or other?”

Fyskel laughed. “No, the rules are pretty clear there,” he said. “The gods without a Champion here are kicking themselves right now. No one thought that Axel had slipped right out from under our nose.”

“Wait, if that’s not what you sent us here for, then what was the reason?”

“Who knows?” Fyskel shrugged. “You’d have to ask Toriao. Perhaps she did know and was keeping it a secret. As much as she hates to, she can keep her mouth shut when she needs to.”

“What about the God of Storms?” I asked. “Is he keeping his mouth shut?”

“Rakaro’s not much of a talker,” Fyskel informed me. “And escaping demons is a perfectly good reason to send a Champion here.”

“You—most of you gods, anyway—want the portal shut.”

“That would be nice, but it’s not possible,” Fyskal said. “And before you ask, destroying the portal, the first preference for mortals of all stripes, isn’t workable either. The portal controls the breach, destroying it would jam it open, leading to who knows where.”

“That’s not what Axel said would happen,” I countered.

“Axel’s answer was based on you destroying his core,” Fyskel said. “That wouldn’t destroy the portal, although his scenario of opening it up to the heart of a star would do that. Easily.”

“He’s sitting on a lot of potential destruction, isn’t he?” I asked. “I suppose we will be too, if we do get down there and take control.”

“Do try and wield it responsibly,” Fyskel said dryly. “I won’t hear the end of it if you destroy even a single percentage point of Ryvue’s surface.”

“But no instructions,” I said.

“To be honest, I don’t think that Axel is done surprising us yet,” Fyskel said. “Now that I know his thoughts are out of my reach… it’s concerning.”

“You think he’s just going to bring out some overpowered demon to kill us?”

“If he wanted to kill you, he’d have made the challenges harder,” Fyskel said. “No, something is going to come out of the portal, and by definition that makes it a demon. But I doubt very much that it will try to kill you.”

He gave me a long look, which had to be performative because he was reading my mind. He smirked when I thought that and waved his hand dismissively.

“I think that’s enough preparation,” he said. “Have fun on your final level.”

Without any further ceremony, the void dismissed itself, and I found myself standing next to my companions. The transition was a little nicer this time, and I managed to not stumble or otherwise embarrass myself.

“Are you with us, Kandis?” Felicia asked tensely.

“Yeah,” I said softly, looking around. We were in a built-up, urban area, standing on a four-lane main street. It all looked abandoned though. There were cars parked, but I could see that the windows had been smashed in. There was a little too much grass growing out from under the sidewalks.

And there weren’t any people that we could see.

“It looks different from the Germany place,” Felicia said.

“Yeah,” I said, still keeping my voice down. I felt exposed. People could be watching us from the roofs or windows of any of a dozen buildings.

“This looks more modern,” Borys said, and looking at the abandoned vehicles and the light poles, I had to agree.

“Modern-day, America, looks like,” I said. “Abandoned though, so…”

“Post-apocalyptic setting?” Borys mused. “It could be pretty bad if there’s fallout.”

I stared at him. “We’re just dead if that’s the case,” I said. “But, uh, maybe we should mask up, just in case.”

We managed to find enough spare clothing to tie around our faces before we started moving. We didn’t like to delay, but we couldn’t take the chance.

“I could cure it, whatever it is?” Felicia said.

“Maybe, but let’s try to avoid it so you don’t have to,” I said. “It’s… some of the dust is poisonous, but all of it will burn you from the inside.”

“That sound’s pretty horrible,” Cloridan said. “It’s a deliberate effect of a weapon?”

“More of a side-effect, occasionally seen as a benefit,” Borys clarified. “Ah. Looks like it’s something else, though.”

He pointed. Coming around the corner was the shambling figure of a man. His face had been cut open, and one of his arms was hanging limply. He shuffled around the corner and his red eyes locked on us.

[Identification]: - Zombie - Threat: 30- Properties: Diseased Bite, Diseased Blood

“Shit,” I said. “Don’t shoot it—don’t make any noise if you can help it.”

“Not a problem,” Cloridan said confidently, stepping forward and drawing his knives. “A little help?”

“Sure,” I said, casting my spell, “But don’t go scouting yet, I think we should stay together for now.”

He nodded as [Greater Invisibility] took hold and rushed forward soundlessly. The zombie didn’t know what hit it, but sadly, it didn’t go down in one hit. It managed to let off a gurgling roar before Cloridan finally hacked it down.

“That’ll bring more,” Borys said grimly. “Let’s move, find a place to fortify.”

I nodded and gestured for Cloridan to hurry back. We could hear more howls start up from all around. Not close, but not too far either.

Hurrying in the direction that seemed quietest, we looked for shelter. Most of the buildings here were shop fronts though. There were a few that still held their glass windows, but we all felt that they would be too easy for the zombies to push through.

“Over here!”

We all stopped as we heard the call. Looking around, I saw someone waving from a second-story window.

A person, here? I thought, but we didn’t have time to question it. The building they were in looked strong. Coming closer, we saw it was a fire station.

I also saw that the zombies were now coming into sight.

“Come on!” the person yelled and dropped a rope ladder out the window. That was a pain, but maybe smart. If they’d boarded up all the lower floor entrances, this might be the only way in or out of the building.

We prioritised. Felicia went up first, then me, while the fighters secured our climb. The person up top seemed surprised when Felicia jumped up ten feet and started swarming up the ladder, but we didn’t have time to waste. As soon as Felicia had grabbed the windowsill, I made my own jump and cancelled Cloridan’s spell so he could fight with the others.

“Wow, you folks sure can climb,” The woman who had dropped the ladder said.

Surprised, confused, and more than a little suspicious, I tried something that shouldn’t have worked. I was even more confused when it did.

[Identification]: - Rachel Collins - Threat: 10 - Properties: None