Godclads

Regret is poison. Regret is poison in life, in action, and in thought. Do not regret. Kill regret. Get rid of regret. The longer you dwell on what could have been or what might have been, the less you deal with the problems at hand—and the less you truly live. And don't get me wrong, that's the whole point of this endeavor: to continue living. Anyone who starts preaching, "Don't be afraid of dying, it's nothing after," is full of crap. Everyone's afraid. No one wants to go into nothingness. But there's something worse than that: no one wants to go regretfully into nothingness.

This is why I tell people, don't work with the ones you love. Don't be a squire alongside your lover. Don't get involved in relationships in your field—or even with someone adjacent to it. Don't do it. It's a bad idea. It never works out. Well, almost never. And if you're hoping to run into someone with the right mental template? Yeah, good luck, consang. Get regret out of your system.

I'm just going to tell you this once. If you can't take this piece of advice, look at your gun, put the barrel under your chin, think of the good times, and pull the trigger—because you're not going to last. Better do it yourself than wait for someone else to finish you off.

-Quail Tavers

34-6

Forever (II)

—[Avo, The Hidden Flame]—

Jaus stood, his anticipation rising. This was a moment he hadn't expected, but something he yearned for—even after all these years of exile. Zein, however, was of a different mind. She approached the situation like a battle, yet so much of her strength was not her own. So much of her weakness was overcome and supplicated by Avo's power that, without him here, perhaps she wouldn't have done what she just did in this very moment. Perhaps she would have delayed, waited, or procrastinated. But that is the benefit of having an ally or benefactor—one cannot encompass all facets of virtue alone. And where you fall, something else can rise in your stead.

Veins of blood settled, morphing into skin, then muscle, tendons, bones—and finally an outer layer of combat skin. As Zein materialized, her face aged and creased with wrinkles, yet her gaze remained hard and strong, like that of the huntress she had always been. Jaus took a step back, his rear leg bumping against his chair.

Amid the ongoing diplomatic crisis and the reunion of her parents, Avo boasted, "Ask, I deliver," though his words were soon forgotten. As mighty and powerful as he was, he was, metaphorically, the lesser god in this situation—for he possessed merely power. What ruled them now was poignancy, memory, everything unsaid, all the regrets unsated, and all the things that could have been. A copy of Zein, a copy of Jaus—both close enough that it didn't matter.

"My love," Zein said, her voice flat and more tired than Avo had ever heard before. Jaus wasn't quick to speak; instead, he studied her features, blinking as if trying to decipher whether her appearance was phantasmagorical or true. His breath quickened, yet once more the Savior impressed the Hidden Flame. His accretion turned steadily, evenly. Even now, Jaus's mind was moving, thinking—always thinking.

His perception cleaved toward Avo. "You wouldn’t be so cruel as to deceive me right now," Jaus said, swallowing. "Through these means…”

“I was cruel. I can be still. And it is not beyond me to become cruel again. But this is not a moment of cruelty. And there is no purpose. I am more than a ghoul now. Your pain will bring me only data, but that is not useful—and I don't want to hurt you." Avo laughed quietly. “You are a loveable creature, Jaus Avandaer. Has anyone told you that?”

Jaus didn’t respond. He might not have the words at all.

"Would you like my absence? Partial absence." Avo said. Jaus stared at his flames, confused. "I'm connected to Zein, but I don't need to remember—all of me, anyway. Other templates don't have to be here either."

For a moment, no one said anything. Then, finally, the faintest whisper came from the Godslayer. "You would do that for me. After all our enmity."

"What enmity?" Avo asked. "You fought for what you believed. What you desired. You were flawed. And I am…" He paused, considering. "Greater. Always greater. Even greater than your betrayal. The past is. But the future will be mine. You thought of yourself as a weapon. But I am more than that. I am more than that. Be at peace, Thousandhand. There is no revenge coming. There is no need. It is beneath me. Because you are now mine. You remain yourself only because I allow it. And in this… no greater triumph can be obtained."

And with his answer given, he receded, leaving the two alone in private—to settle whatever wounds they had, to discuss what might come thereafter.

As he shrank away, the last thing he saw was a Bond forming and rematerializing in an instant, stronger and brighter than all other bonds. It was a Bond forged from centuries of companionship, from atrocities committed together, from things done and undone. The Zein Thousandhand and Jaus Avanadaer—whether for good or ill—were partners in a lasting matrimony. And this was more than could be said for most people in New Vultun.

For once, Avo used Ignorance to shroud his own awareness rather than uncover what couldn't be seen. Faintly, he felt a tug thereafter. Chambers spoke to him then, having been a silent part to the entire affair. +Hey Avo.+ Chambers muttered uneasily, +Should I, you know, like, pull back my bonds too? Because right now, I'm still creepin' on him.+

+Considerate,+ Avo said, complimenting Chambers. +You can ignore it. I can give you some Amnesitec, but ultimately, I don't think I can hide it from you. Because you are the God of Love, after all.+ Chambers winced at that.

+Yeah, listen, I've been wanting to talk to you about that too+

+You don't think you're worthy?+ Avo said, guessing the very problem without scying into Chambers's mind.

+Yeah, uh, something like that,+ Chambers replied. +Listen, this Heaven of Love thing—I... I found Kae, and... well, it was kind of a fluke.+

+My existence was kind of a fluke,+ Avo countered, offering a counter-example. +I could take the Heaven from you if you want. Won't settle the feelings inside you. That won't cure the feelings of unworthiness, and that won't take away the weight of responsibility. The world comes for us now, Aiden. What will you do?+

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+I, uh,+ Chambers sighed, +I don't rightly know.+

Avo grunted a laugh. +I don't think I have an idea either. Let's go find out together.+

+Nova,+ Chamber added. +But, uh, like, seriously though, what are we gonna do next? Things are good, but there's shit happening everywhere. And the Substance— Hey, Avo, do we... do we actually have a chance of winning this shit?+

Avo regarded Chamber for a moment as we contemplated the situation, +Yes. More than ever before, I think.+

And a slow exhalation left Chambers's mind. +Holy shit. It might actually happen, then. It might actually fucking happen. You know, all my life, people have been saying so-and-so Guild might fall at any time—just you wait, any time. But now, it's actually happening, and I'm a part of it. And, I won't lie, I’m kind of fucking shaking.+

+It's going to get worse,+ Avo said. +For them. And us.+

[WARMIND OF IGNORANCE] CONSTRUCTION COMPLETE

+What do you mean?+ Chambers asked. And Avo reached out to Chambers, infusing him with a new gift: crafting a Warmind of Ignorance for Chambers's exo-cortex implant.

At once, Chambers's consciousness flared with full awareness. He perceived what Avo was doing, felt the weight of a hidden implant bound to his exo-cortex. +What the fuck?+ Chambers roared. The cry rippled across his Bonds, and only Avo’s interception stopped it from deafening everyone he was connected to.

Using Chambers, Avo reached out to Draus, to Shotin, to Denton, to Naeko, to all the present members of his cadre. They were all gradually brought in, granted awareness over what was meant to be forgotten.

As Avo’s flames coiled and merged with their minds, he split their consciousnesses, allowing them to be as if he were—capable of occupying multiple streams of thought at once, thinking in parallel structures. But he wasn’t done there. He drew them into his newly created time bridge and bade them manifest within the Great Ziggurat, discovered and protected by the Woundmother.

At once, Naeko, Chambers, Denton, Draus, and Shotin loaded in, and surrounding them were critical templates—both their own and countless others. The city was awash with movement as quivering wavelengths of gold splashed through their bodies, yet it didn’t affect their ontologies in any way.

"What the hell just happened?" Shotin muttered, blinking.

"Welcome," Avo said, his voice echoing a voice from great locus embedded at the center of the structure, "to a place above time. We have much to discuss." Just then, he froze as a new delivery came from Contingency Bleak Refusal:

Hyperwave message incoming. Accept request for EGI If On A Winter's Night Wanderer.

With that acceptance, a final shape merged into being—a flickering cloud of static that resembled a sun made from data.

"Well then, I would say it has been too long," Calvino began. "But you have a habit of making days seem like years and weeks seem like eternities, Avo.”

"Yes, history comes at you fast," the Hidden Flame told him. "And it's only going to start coming faster. Got some things to share with you. Some things you need to know. And some things we need to start preparing for. The end is coming. End of the war. A final victory for this iteration of existence.”

“Well,” Draus said, flashing a vicious grin at Avo. “Let’s hear it, then. Missed this.”

Avo studied her for a moment, and let out a grunt. “Me too. Need to talk with you afterward. But before that have to notify you about a new threat—one already here.” He patched them into his mind and connected them to another section of his consciousness—the part that was actively dealing with the Majority. “Ori-Thaum hasn’t been entirely truthful.”

At that, practically everyone broke into a shared snort.

The snort died when the image of the Majority loaded into view.

Shotin’s eyes widened. “Oh, what the fu—”

***

—[The Infacer]—

Ash and ruin crept across the surface of the tapestry, like a growing patch of inflammation. The seraphs of Highflame—those few deemed loyal and pliable by OsjonThousand, the speaker—quivered and spasmed. Motes of dust and withered nothing leaked from their orifices. Their bodies were twisted at odd angles, their flesh desecrated. What was worse were their ontologies, their heavens. Beings of absolute power were now encased and consumed by growing masses of tumorous flesh and dark, stained soul fire.

Each of them, however, was bound by festering lattices connecting them to a singular entity—a creature of winged dark with a foul soul flame at the core of its skull. The dark replica of the Strix proclaimed its glory with every passing ripple of its frame, yet its body was also lined with other things: jagged teeth, rows of fangs, whipping tongues that hungered and savored the torment it inflicted. Here was a representation of a memory of what he was, staining what he could have been.

Here was a hunger that was never sated, that was nourished and unleashed on a world it loathed.

Thus, the Infacer laughed softly, enjoying the sight of his special little monster, chewing on the annoyance that was Osjon. {Not so uppity are you anymore, little ape,} they sneered. The Infacer’s mirth was bitter, but Oz-Jun-Thousand's screams and futile struggles served as a salve—an ironic, macabre comfort.

The Speaker of Highflame, once a giant imbued with impossible strength and absolute might, fell as easily as any other before the Ashbringer's conflagration, before the raw entropy and fallen flame inflicted upon existence itself.

"It's done," the Ashbringer spoke. His voice was guttural, more monstrous than the current Avon, but still, there was plenty of the Dreamer left in him—enough to know that, in this situation, an equal was not required. He simply needed a counterpart, a silver bullet, so to speak, something to stymie the Burning Dreamer long enough for them to be contained.

The Dyad looked on, watching the betrayal from on high. Avo’s face was spread wide in a monstrous grin, while Veylis’ regarded the scene impassively, feeling only slight annoyance and slim frustration at the consumption of Osjon for her part. Every time the fanged mouths that lined the core of this mutilated shriek opened, he reached out—he cried out for her, screaming for his high seraph, for his savior.

But he forgot the central tenets of Highflame.

For only the worthy were blessed, and he was not worthy. He was but kindling for a coming flame.

{Very good,} the Infacer said. {Now, on to proper business.}

From the place between places, new forms emerged—forms summoned by him, granted by the Dyad. The Deliverer arrived next, her usefulness proven beyond all doubt. Though she hadn't managed to eliminate her original self, she hadn't failed outright either, and wasn't an embarrassment in terms of design. It seemed that if there was one thing Veylis and the others were in agreement on, it was that Jelene Draus was a very, very good weapon to have.

{Who else?} the Infacersaid. {Who else do I have?}

His mind filtered through all the other Pathborn that Veylis created—those that Avo could make through his conceptualization. The moment his attention fell on Chambers’s Fuckbringer, they flinched back. {Nope, not working with you again. In fact, I probably need to redesign you from the ground up. Because Veylis, in your infinite weight ape-infused wisdom, decided to commit the cardinal sin of being a judgmental prick. I'm disappointed in you, girl. But then again, you’re only human. Even as a god.}

If Veylis took offense, she revealed nothing. Avo, however, chuffed with laughter.

{Oh, do be joyful. You will be making another noise soon enough.} The Infacer mused, {So, who else?" His thoughts then fell upon Kae, the Murderess of Love. This wasn’t a combat-oriented Pathborn, but rather a counter to the Heaven of Love. And with Chambers suffering a critical weakness due to their relations, this might work better—perhaps even better than using his own temperament against him. After all, never mind this evil mirror-mirror shit; he could just get rid of them using a silver bullet. A silver bullet for everyone.

There, he began summoning the Murderess of Love, drawing from the Heaven of Love to constitute her ontology while infusing the mind with that of a far more cynical, far more vicious Kae Kusande. As she materialized, he looked down upon them and let out a sigh.

{Alright. Let us talk about what I need from you. And the problems at hand, starting with how we are going to steal a few Deep Ones…}