NOVEL NEXT Chapter 159: Puppets
Richard Terril, son of Jonathan Henney, had a lot of things to clean up.
His father had been a brilliant man. No one, no matter how much they hated him, would deny that. Mr. Henney had been incredibly sharp, able to find opportunities and generate social and financial capital where others would have cut their losses. He'd manipulated, bribed, and tricked his ways into people's hearts and granted himself a position of immense power.
So immense, in fact, that he could sell spots on another world, spots on Eden as if it was a game. With an in-game currency that people could trade for real money. With items that they could sell to the company like a market.
Sure, Foundational Exchange was backed by the divines, but when Zinnic paid their own employees for certain trades, it was foundationally the same. They could sell things from the other side to the company, and Henney made great use of those resources.
Even far before gates began to open on Neamhan, he'd begun testing the effects of Qi-saturated herbs on people. They'd been paid well, of course, and the man had long since been invested in creating his own army of super soldiers.
In the end, that power, which should have been overwhelming, hadn't amounted to much at all.
Stopping those kinds of experiments wasn't much trouble for Rich. He was able to stop the buying of herbs and medicines, of cultivation resources and mana stones. It was easy to wean people off of it.
But when it came to the dealings with the keepers and usurpers? That was troublesome.
His father could not keep his fingers off any pie, and now, Rich was the one hung over his desk, fingers buried in his perfectly blonde hair, shoulders straining the stitches of his suit as he groaned. "Damn you," he muttered, then slammed the desk. "Damn all of you!"
But the people - if they were worthy of calling them that - he was talking to, didn't quite see eye to eye with him. A glassy window showed him a view of a shifting thing. A mannequin stuffed full of wrapping paper that split open, revealing more and more colourful layers in a kaleidoscope. Matryoshka, the embodiment of secrecy, spoke without a voice.
"Give us more," it demanded. "More. More. More. More. More. More. More. More. M-"
A hand came up to stop its tirade, a red hand with fingers that ended in sticky bulbs. That of a frog. "Now, now," the usurper's smooth voice came. "Let us be reasonable. Mr. Terril, you are our foremost contact in this world now. As such, you have the duty to uphold certain agreements. Your tests of Echo are part of those," he said, calmly.
"Or what?" Rich scoffed. "You gonna kill me?"
"Oh, hardly," the frog waves him off, a wide grin full of sharp teeth splitting its face. "We'll simply turn you inside out, fill you with enough Echo to turn you into a mindless addict, hungry for expansion."
The human shivered at those words. They were delivered so casually, so easily, and yet, they were a concern. He could feel himself tensing up at the thought, the disgust he felt at imagining himself imbibing any of the echo. Crystals of dull, pulsing energy that brought euphoria and power that countered Qi, but also an intense sense of euphoria and a physical dependency.
Slowly, he shook his head, grinding his teeth together. Richard, in truth, was a coward. He was a pushover. The lady Radiance had to shoot him all of one look, and he cowered. There was no evidence, no hint that she had killed his father, but he saw it in her eyes. He knew she'd murdered the clever old bastard, and he only lived because he hadn't committed a crime.
And so, he found himself trapped between one vengeful demon and another. The problem was just that… "My scientists are still carrying out tests, even though I told them not to, aren't they?" Richard asked, defeated.
"Possession casts string and the humans dance like puppets," Matyroshka scoffed. "You slither, cause strife, you cower, you writhe. Pathetic creatures."
The arrogance in its strange not-speak was dulled by the sheer dullness Richard felt in his chest. All of his efforts felt pointless. He was just… what? A chess piece? A figurehead? A replacement for a man whose shoes he never could have hoped to fill anyway?
He gave himself a ragged, pitiful laugh. "You've infected my science division with some kind of brain-virus, then?" The words tasted like ash in his mouth. Pathetic. A CEO who couldn't even get anyone to follow his orders.
"They will simply carry out the necessary tests, human," the frog said. Richard heard the designation, the way they stripped his identity, and he couldn't bring himself to care. All he wanted was to be done with it. All he wanted was to move on with his life.
Live in some cushy villa with a butler and never talk to anyone again. Screw all this magic. "So why do you need me, then?"
At that, the demon smiled, politely. "We are aware that your world operates widely on public sentiment. News still sees you as the head of the company. You shall be our mouthpiece, human. Spread the word of our glorious dominion, of Echo, of its benefits and the power it can bring."
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The commands rattled in on his skull in an endless deluge. Give more of this, give more of that… what had his father even received in exchange? That shrewd bastard would never have let himself be manipulated. What measure of power had he gotten? Early warning for the gates, sure, but that could not have been all.
"What do I get out of it?" Richard asked drily.
"For one, we will not turn you into a puppet," the demon offered graciously.
Richard laughed. His mood was teetering ever closer to rock bottom. Had he found his breaking point? He thought it might be approaching. "And?"
"We will instate you as the highest person in the new world. We will grant you forces of overwhelming power, and you may lord above your domain when the world changes. You could live forever, human. You could have greatness, if only you embrace it. If only you bring our Echo to your people, if you foster it and grow it into a beautiful little infection. We will give you power, wealth and fame as you wish it," the demon said, its arms wide.
And for the first time, Richard looked up at them. "No," he said.
It was a simple word, one he almost didn't intend, yet it left his lips so easily. "No, I won't."
That wasn't to say that he was a good person. His defiance came in an office behind a mahogany desk, one of the last of its kind from when trees still grew. He wore a suit that could have bought a house, and his chair was covered in leather from some extinct animal. He was a living, breathing statue of opulence and privilege.
No way was he giving that up. He didn't want to lose any of his wealth. He didn't want to lose any of his status… but at the same time, he didn't want this. It felt too much. A projected happiness. There was joy in having a nice penthouse, not having to do anything, watching shows and swimming in overflowing pools.
There was no joy in being blackmailed by some kind of interdimensional drug broker slash colonizer.
So he declined. Using every inch of bravery in his pitiful bones, he found his bottom line.
"What?" the demon asked, as if incredulous.
"Is wealth not enough?" Matryoshka asked, as if giving up a secret. They must've figured that one out before, Richard thought with a snicker.
He nodded. "I don't want it," he said simply. "I've got all the wealth I need. More fame than I could ever want. I'm at the top of the world and it's hollow. If I'm to be a puppet, I won't do it willingly."
Just then, he thought of the lady Radiance again. How she had marched into a gate that should have been her death, and emerged stronger. The way her presence had shifted, after that trial. The way she had survived against the Tiger, the Swan, and the Eagle. And he thought, for just a moment, that he might be as brave as her.
"I'll fight you every step of the way," he said, smiling faintly in self-satisfaction."
A sigh reached his ears. "What a shame," the frog said. "This could have been easy, yet here we are. You will not enjoy what happens next."
It reached out through the pane of glass, and Matryoshka grunted in effort. More translucent, shimmering crystal spread, encasing Richard's office in some kind of temporary dimension. The window turned from a screen to a doorway. An equalizer. For just a moment, he stood in front of the frog for real.
His breath hitched in his throat.
Power poured from it, so much that he could feel it prickling at his skin. It felt like a bath of acid, like staring down a horde of hungry wolves. It sent terror down his spine, to the point where any words of protest died in his mouth.
"We could have worked together beautifully, Mr. Terril. Such a shame," the demon said, though its voice didn't hint at regret. Instead, its red, bulbous, dry skin touched Rich's arm.
Magma poured into the CEO's veins. It burnt its way up his arm, lancing into his chest, and a hoarse scream tore itself forth. It hurt, and every vein of his ached. His body shifted, resonated with itself in a low hum,a second copy of it appearing next to him. Pain and euphoria mixed within him as the world duplicated, then multiplied again.
The sensations stacked. More pain, more and more of the magma tearing through him. He felt his body twice, thrice, then seven times atop itself. Each stimulation magnified and enhanced to the point where he could not tell where the pain ended and he began.
Throughout it all, the demon simply held his hand. "You may defy us, Mr. Terril," it noted. "But you will not do so for long."
- - -
Matt picked up the phone.
It was Fio's phone, but Ann was currently out in a gate, and Ion was with her, so they'd left it in his care. The display showed her dad's name. Usually, he wouldn't have picked that up, but Lars Desum never called.
Oh, sure, he'd text to ask about visits. But in all the time living together, he'd never heard Fio on call with him. The facility probably didn't let him have unrestricted access to phones, but perhaps a web browser? Something like that.
Needless to say, he picked it up. "Hello hello Mr. Desum, this is Matt, how can I help ya?"
"Oh, Matthew. I was… hoping to speak to my daughter. Is she gone?"
"Out on work right now, I'm afraid," the swordsman replied, lazily draping himself over the back of the couch. Marie raised an eyebrow at him, but he quickly placed a finger on his lips, gesturing for her to be quiet.
"Ah, right, well. I suppose I can tell you, too. There's… something wrong here."
Worry had seeped into the man's voice, and Matt's playfulness drained away by bit. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm not sure what you mean?"
Lars coughed on the other end of the phone. "I feel… bad. Real bad. They… I think they put something in my water," he coughed again. "It tastes. I can taste it twice? They were gonna start doing new tests on me. I can feel my Qi burning in my chest. It feels like I have a fever."
At the words, Matt sat up straight. It sounded bad. Another cough rang through the phone before he replied properly. "What's the address of the building you are at, sir? Hang in there. Don't resist the burn, stoke the fire, if you can. You use fire Qi, yes?" he asked, already getting up. Quickly, he turned the phone on mute. "Get Reya," he told Marie.
The older woman looked on with concern. "Everything okay?"
Matt quickly jotted down the address before turning to her and shaking his head. "No, Fio's dad might be getting Echo pumped into him."
"Fuck," Marie said, sprinting off to grab their healer.
Meanwhile, the swordsman unmuted the call, and put on his most polite, calming voice. The tone he usually used with his dad when he was being an insensitive asshole again. "Alright, Mr. Desum. We'll be right over."
"You can't… visit. Only family."
Matt almost smiled faintly, a glint of violence in his eyes. "Oh, don't worry. We will find a way in." Reaching out into the air next to him, his broken, blossom-crafted blade appeared in his hands. He drew it from the sheath and looked at the petals for a moment.
Hopefully, he didn't need to spill too much human blood today.