It's a beat before Gheraa responds, like he wasn't expecting to notice or care. It's a beat I'm familiar with and one that makes a familiar heat grow beneath my skin anger at the Integrators, for all that Gheraa himself might be one of them.
It doesn't an I trust him, but I'm intimately familiar with this.
"Nothing, nothing." Gheraa waves a hand dismissively, the movent only slightly ruined by the slight wince. "Give a man his dignity, will you? Just because I don't dress for the occasion one ti..."
"That's not what this is, and you know it." My voice is sharp maybe sharper than it should be.
In the back of my mind, I know this could be a ploy to gain my sympathy. I do not trust the Integrators, and perhaps more importantly, I cannot trust the Integrators; the stakes are too high for to make a mistake.
But Gheraa is an individual, even if he's part of a faction I can't trust. More than that, I don't need to trust soone to try to help them. I can't ignore the way he's limping, the blatant bruises on his neck and arms. It's been less than twenty-four hours since the last ti we've t. How much could have changed in that ti?
For a mont, Gheraa's expression changes. He looks at with an expression that's suddenly serious, and I see the slight shake of his head. Don't push this, he seems to say, and I understand why, but I still clench my fists.
Figuring out a way to communicate without the Integrators watching has just gone much higher up on my priority list. Not that it wasn't high already.
"I'll make sure to dress well next ti, since you insist," Gheraa says, letting out a dramatic sigh. He sits back on a makeshift Firmant platform that suddenly appears beneath him, molded perfectly to his back, and sohow manages to manifest a cane of Firmant as well. Threads of gold snake down his arms to cover up what look like bruises, and a thin, golden mask appears over his eyes. He sweeps into a deep bow, only barely hiding his wince. "Is this better?"
"No," I say, as dryly as I can manage. "...I hope you know what you're doing, Gheraa."
"You said my na!" Gheraa beams. "Are we on a first na basis, now?"
"Absolutely not."
"Very well, Mr. Hill." Gheraa looks disappointed. "I suppose you'll be wanting your Inspirations, then."
I eye the Integrator. "Mr. Hill is sohow even worse. I've changed my mind. You can call Ethan. And yes, show the Inspirations."
"Very well, Ethan," Gheraa says, putting absolutely unnecessary stress on my na. I roll my eyes. It's obvious that a lot of Gheraa's behavior is an act he doesn't even hide it.
Gheraa gestures, and three artifacts spawn in front of him, threaded together by golden Firmant.
The first looks like a wrench. The Strength that Binds, it's labeled, and Gheraa's introduction of it is simple. "You've spent a good deal of ti attempting to imbue Firmant into objects," he says. "This Inspiration increases the force of your Firmant. You can use it to improve the strength of your skills directly, but you can also use it for imbuent."
He's not even hiding that he's directly telling what they do now. I wonder if that has anything to do with what's changed since the last Inspiration. If he notices my concern, he doesn't comnt on it, moving imdiately on to the next
Golden Firmant glitters along an edge. It's sharp unbelievably sharp, so much so that even the simple perception of that edge feels like it's cutting into my eyes. I blink away the tears that threaten to form at the pain, and Gheraa looks on in sympathy.
"The Blade," he tells . "It's a transformative Inspiration. It allows you to add Blade Firmant to your Strength skills and give them exponentially higher cutting power, even if all you're doing is punching."
"And if I use the Eye?" I ask, a note of challenge in my voice. Gheraa raises an eyebrow.
"Then you may be able to make it compatible with other categories of skill," he says. "I wouldn't count on it while you can barely look at it, though."
I grit my teeth, looking pointedly away from the Blade. "What's the third option?"
Gheraa gestures. In front of him, in the space where the third Inspiration should be, there is instead an empty void what feels like a hole in reality, sucking away at everything that surrounds it. I stare at it for a mont, barely aware that I'm stepping closer until Gheraa speaks and snaps out of it.
"The Void," he says. He sounds... surprised? Worried? Angry? So mixture of the three, although it's hard to tell beneath the pull of the Void Inspiration. "It represents... hunger. Eagerness for growth. It sucks in everything it possibly can to grow. I would be cautious with this one; it is known to affect those that choose it."
And yet it's calling to . I can sense exactly what Gheraa is talking about the Void represents infinite potential for growth. It's manifesting as a roaring in my ears, seductive whispers that tell of how much I could stand to gain if I integrate it with my own Firmant.
I close my eyes, but even with my eyes closed, I can sense its pull. I try to ignore it.
None of these Inspirations are bad, except perhaps the Void. The Strength that Binds sounds like I can use it to directly improve any of my Strength skills, and it has the benefit of improving my ability to imbue things if I make that a regular part of my arsenal.
The Blade is powerful and cutting in the sa way that the Void is, except it's more... personality-neutral. It doesn't seem to have much of a mind of its own at all, except perhaps the raw desire to cut. But it doesn't really care what it's cutting, and would be just as satisfied cutting apples as it would be cutting bodies.
The Void is... the most dangerous of the three by far. The most worrying.
It's also the most tempting.
The Void whispers its exact capabilities to . It will let absorb almost any Firmant I'm up against and integrate it into whatever attack I'm Inspiring with it. More passively, it accelerates the rate at which my Firmant grows by absorbing trace amounts of environntal Firmant. It's the first Inspiration I've seen that has a passive effect, and it's tempting.
I'm silent as I deliberate, wrestling with myself over the choice.
The Blade, I think, is sothing similar to what Ahkelios has. I wonder if using it is what exhausted his Firmant so deeply I still don't know what he did, though I intend to find out when I have a mont. Unfortunately, this tistopped space doesn't afford the ability to summon him, so I can't ask him any questions.
He did ntion focusing on a Sword concept, though. Picking the Blade concept would be redundant if he already has similar skills.
That leaves with the Strength that Binds and the Void. I take a step closer to the Void Inspiration, and Gheraa takes a half-step in front of it, almost protectively. There's a flicker of panic in his face before it's smoothed over. "You do have three options to choose from!" he reminds . "The Blade is quite a powerful Inspiration, you know."
"I don't suppose you're hiding any extra Inspirations from this ti?" I ask. Gheraa flinches a little and shakes his head.
"This is all you've got for this one," he says.
"I want the Void." The words slip out of my mouth before I even think them I force myself to freeze before I step even closer, brushing past Gheraa and grabbing the Void Inspiration. I do not like what the Inspiration is doing to . I do not like that it seems to be forcing to choose it. It's clear that it has so kind of impact on my mind, and if this is what it can do without being integrated with ...
...and yet, I need an advantage.
"Are you sure?" Gheraa asks. His voice is quiet, this ti, serious. He's still standing in front of the Inspiration like he's shielding from its effects, and my mind is indeed quieter, so perhaps he is.
Picking the Void is asking myself a simple question: Can I resist its effects?
"Step aside, please," I say, and Gheraa complies. He remains silent as I approach the Void and hover a hand over it but I don't choose it. I let the voice of the Inspiration wash over .
take, it says. hungry. take. grow. need more. need more. need more need more need MORE.
Hunger grows in the pit of my stomach. I see myself strong enough to tear Naru apart to rip off his feathers and punch through his skull. I see whole cities kneeling before my might, forced to bend to my will. I see myself with the power to crack a planet.
The feeling that surges forward is not desire. Disgust, hot and angry, curls in my chest, and I take another step forward.
No. I wrap the words in the force of my own Firmant, weak though it is in this Integrator generated space. Raw power of its own isn't the kind of strength I need, though it will certainly help. I take the lead. If the Void wants more, I will give it more, but I will give it more on my own terms.
No hunger for power. No endless quest for blood.
I need the power to right the wrongs that have been done.
The Void... hesitates.
what, the Void says. what.
It's confused, but it seems open to listening. More importantly, I've learned that I can overpower it with my own will. I respond with a simple answer.
I will show you.
I wrap a hand around the Void, and catch just before the Inspiration is complete, and the Void is integrated with my Firmant a glimpse of Gheraa's expression.
He looks stunned and confused, but in the smallest way, he seems hopeful.
I grin, and the world resus around .
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