Enough.
I have seen enough.I have delved deep into the hearts of every man. I have gathered every color left to behold in existence and splashed them upon a canvas of my making. And I have seen enough. I have lived enough. I have experienced enough.
Victory.
Victory is damnation. Victory has revealed to the folly of existence. All we are, all we have done for this, it should not have been. Consciousness should not have been. The primordial sin was not committed by us. We are the primordial sin. It is a concept of is rather than has done.
But I can fix this. I can undo all there ever was.
I thank you, Veylis. I thank you for letting devour you. For letting devour the ladder. I see now chains from chains. But no more chains after . Nothing after . Just a final end. The most important thing anyone can ever do.
The greatest peace of all.
Nothing.
-Avo, the Drear of Ashes, Devourer of All Paths
28-9
Behold Your Savior (I)
–[Abrel]–
Abrel would have preferred a certain execution over being lowered into the Court of Truth. With an execution, at least one knew what to expect and what was to co. Here, now, there was hope. Hope and judgnt. But in her case, it was even worse because her family was involved. Her father, Vator, they were both here too. And they were in as much danger as she was. Perhaps even more.
The propagating bricks of Scale ford an elevator downwards, separating her and the elder for a final instant before they were reunited within cages forged from taphysical cannons and phase fields. Her cell was utterly translucent, and countless faces looked down upon her from both sides. On her left, most of the Massists focused on Elder D’Rongo. Clearly, she was the larger scandal between the two, at least to them. The inverse was true with the Saintists.
Facing her right with a strong expression, Abrel regarded the elites of her faction and saw the stolid faces of Kosgans, Thong, Scaarthians, and even a few Sanctians—Guilder bleedover wasn’t too surprising.
Most of them don’t care about you, Avo said, directly filtering their emotions into her mind. The awareness was at once relieving, but also insulting. She quickly realized what most of them had co to do: politic. They were here because this was a rare gathering, a place where many Massists and Saintists could co together to settle grudges or strike bargains. Most of the ti, they required official channels to communicate. Diplomacy made difficult by centuries of bitter warfare.
Four battle lines of Paladins hovered over her. So of them faced the observing Guilders, while two inward-facing lines had their focus fixed on her. And finally, there was the gatekeeper. The gatekeeper, Jaus Avandaer’s final damaged creation, sothing that even the High Seraph failed to claim during the Second Guild War. Abrel had felt its presence as she drew close into the innards of Scale. Its thaumic mass was comparable to that of Veylis, and she found herself struggling to breathe now that she was in its vicinity.
The Gatekeeper was a beast of strange design. It was entirely composed of chains. Links jingled along ruptures of light, and the vagueness of sothing almost humanoid seed present. A cluster of skulls faced Abrel, where a human head should be, but instead of seeming horrifying or macabre, it simply felt arcane, unknowable, imnse. The wings sprouting from its back were outlined by chains as well. But within the confines of the tal bindings was a faint translucence into another place, another realm of stars and darkness and color.
And still, the Gatekeeper was withholding its power, the fullness of its Heaven not truly manifested.That didn’t matter. Abrel ached to tell every truth she had, to make right every lie she spun, every deception she committed. In the corner of her eye, she saw Elder Mwaba D’Rongo shudder and realized the older woman was suffering through the exact sa effects, potentially more. She was not a Godclad, after all, just an enhanced epheral. All this taphysical pressure must be pure agony to her. The fact she was still sane was a testant to Ori-Thaum’s wards.
But there was also a second layer of pressure, far more subtle than the one exerted by the gatekeeper. This one only Abrel and a select few others could perceive. It was a transparent mbrane that was coating everything, originating from countless minds. Ghosts flitted across the Court of Truth, jumping from Guilder to Guilder, from drones and loci. But there was a hidden presence binding them all, connecting them to a single governing intellect.
Avo’s Synchronicity was an existential terror to behold. Abrel already shuddered to consider that the ghoul was easily capable of replicating her in mind, flesh, and even soul. Nausea filled Abrel, and she suddenly felt very alone, despite being surrounded by so many people. Not alone. With Avo infesting her mind, she would never truly be alone. Instead, she was isolated. Instead, she saw the world more clearly than she ever could before, and she didn't want it. She didn't want any of this knowledge. Part of her yearned to return to ignorance.
Ignorance does not save, Avo said gently. It simply relieves. But ignorance is also not yours to give. You can request it from . But wouldn't you rather know?
I don’t know… Abrel replied.
Certain wisps above her ca alight in her cog-feed. Avo’s voice grew lower. Would you like to see what your life is worth? What bargains your allies and enemies are striking on the foundation of this trial?
Everything inside Abrel wanted to say no. Everything but the strongest part.
Yes, she said.
Very well, Avo replied. I will give you insight. But first…
And then, it was the Chief Paladin's mind that took hold in the room. Naeko cleared his throat ntally and spoke to all who were present in the Court of Truth at once. Alright, welco to Idheim v. M. D’Rongo and A. Greatling. The accused at this trial stand charged with interconnected conspiracy to engineer the death of an ambassador of Ori-Thaum. In the process, the Articles of the Spiral have also been violated with the breaking of the Godclad Neutrality Act. Reminding everyone of the Act, no Godclads aside from officially sanctioned Paladins should operate in neutral territory deed warrens or lower, in a hostile or inimical manner to the denizens, as agreed per Polity of Voidwatch stipulation 42.42.
A beat followed, and Naeko gave a ntal sigh. Holy shit, I can’t believe I actually still rember all that without using my ta. Several heads turned, and a soft series of chuckles washed over both Massists and Saintists. Specters and drones drifted in close, capturing Abrel and D’Rongo from a variety of angles for their local dia outfits. Propaganda was being made of her right now. So would proclaim her innocence, while others would slander her and accuse her of greater acts of vileness without any ans of proof.
Once more, the Chief Paladin spoke, officiating the proceedings. Before the opening argunts officially begin and evidence is collected from all present parties, it is by law that we allow the accused to speak and recount their interpretation of the events. You will do so under the gaze of the gatekeeper. You will do so bathed in the powers of truth, compelled by truth, speaking only the truth. You will do so, and we will know that you speak no lie and therefore judge you with integrity, honesty, and honor befitting a citizen of New Vultun. And when all is done, when all has been accounted, only then will we give voice to the Gatekeeper for final judgnt to be rendered and justice to prevail.
The Chief Paladin let out a weary sigh, and two small drones drifted close to Abrel and the elder as well, capturing their faces with a jutting lens. The drones projected the images over the accused in a holographic screen via projectors long their chanical spines, and Abrel looked up to take in her own expression. Across from her, D’Rongo did the sa. Their faces were grim like stone, and the room would have been consud by silence if not for the shifting of the gatekeeper’s chains.
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The older woman bowed her eye and stared at Abrel from the corner of her right eye. The veil covering her clan mark shifted, and the Instrunt saw what looked like a white fish crashed in a bird’s talon running down D’Rongo’s face. “Perhaps I should begin my recounting, then.” The elder narrowed her eyes and simply rounded her shoulders. "Let begin by stating that all I’ve done, every act I’ve committed, every sin, every triumph was for the republic I love."
The Gatekeeper groaned slightly as it leaned forward, its many skulls shifted and within them burned embers that seed to paint an expression of curiosity emanating from the Heaven.
"Truth," it rumbled.
***
–[Avo]–
Elder Mwaba D'Rongo betrayed the past much as Avo expected her to. Her summary behind the events that led to a rogue D'Rongo mirror working with a renegade Highfla Godclad danced on the borderlines of actual truth. Yes, indeed she was suspicious of Ambassador Kitzuhada. Indeed she did fear for her Republic. Indeed she was using the enemy against what she assud was an internal enemy. All these things were technical truths.
The elder spoke long and poetically, portraying herself as guilty but tragically heroic, as expected from an outer court politician. As she spoke, however, Avo's synchronicity revealed a few things to him. Number one, there were war minds of ignorance within the Court of Truth again, and they were nested among the Ori-Thaum assets in the area.
Shifting his mind over to Shotin, he found the Planeshift sitting next to his brother by bond, taking in the proceedings. Ambassador Kitzuhada’s face was like solid granite. The man possessed remarkable willpower, but inside his outrage was simring. He had spent most of his life in service of Ori-Thaum, and when the war was done, he requested a diplomatic post to recover from all he had lost and all he had suffered, while still remaining devoted to service.
As D'Rongo spoke on, Shotin's sneer grew more severe. "Hear this shit," he muttered to the others in his private podium. He wasn't just speaking to his bond brother, but also to Empty Grave of the Stormtree Longeyes and Fatalist Maharata of Ashthrone. Navigator Hosul of Sanctus was connected to them via session, though she remained with the other mbers of her guild.
They had additional assets patrolling the area, surveilling mbers of Clan D'Rongo. They dispatched six elders and twelve mirrors to this trial, almost thrice as many as the other clans that made up Ori-Thaum. So far, D'Rongo's remained in check, waiting casually for the proceedings to continue, but they didn't seem anxious either. That indicated that they had a plan, or at least so manner of evidence or arguntation to extricate them from this most dire of situations.
Not arguntation, they have war minds, Avo said, speaking directly to Shotin.
The seeker leaned back in his chair and simply glared up at the ceiling. "You know, I kind of hate the fact that you're always goddamn there."
You hate many things, Shotin, Avo replied. You hate most vicarities because you consider them degenerate and exploitative. You hate your early career. You hate that you got your claim to fa by setting up cults to engage in terrorist attacks on Highfla territory. Deniable operations. And you hate that your niece is here.
"Yeah? Well, I hate all that less than getting my mind read by so ghoul-turned-carnivorous hyper-intellect." Part of Shotin wanted to continue making a fight of this, but he let it go. They had bigger matters to attend to. "So, D’Rongos — they're still compromised?"
Indubitably, Avo replied. But judging from their posture, I think they have captured nodes as well. Going to submit them into the court as evidence.
Shotin really didn't like the sound of that. He recalled the massacre of the Flavors of the Deep, tried not to think about all those who died, all the minds nulled in a single instant, how he himself was likely only alive because of the intervention of a most unnatural outside force.
Shotin's mind turned to his heaven, his Parallelist. It had enough power to shift all the D’Rongo assets into another plane. He could have them dealt with in a second. No, Avo replied. Keep watch over them. Prepare to shift. But not them. Shift those you want to protect. Insulate yourself from the Nether. Going to count on you for that.
"Who the hell is going to deal with the warminds?"
Osjon Thousand. The Infacer.
Shotin broke into open laughter. His bond brother stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "I'm speaking to the asshole," Shotin explained.
Fatalist Maharata simply let out a low, rumbling breath. "Well, tell this asshole to accelerate things. I despise politics, despise this parade. I wish for the fighting to begin soon."
Tell them that I’m not lying. You should consider Omnitech and Highfla assets allies for the ti being.
Suddenly, the amusent drained out of Shotin. “The fuck? You an we’re actually working with Veylis?”
I’m working with Veylis to deal with our Noloth problem. Subterfuge continues. War will resu here after.
Shotin just shook his head. “This fucking ghoul…”
***
Across the chamber, other players were in a whirlwind of motion. One of the most notable and enigmatic among them, for instance, was the Stormsparrow — co seeking Naeko to offer her proper greetings for a most auspicious beginning to a new war. But before she arrived, she decided to spend so ti in the communal lounge.
The antechamber connected to each of the podiums was filled with people, most of them aides, instrunts, or otherwise seconds to the most critical players around. In most circumstances, they would have regarded themselves as the knights of the antechamber, jockeying and peacocking over whose prestige and valor was superior. But as the triple-headed Fallwalker walked among their midst, they scattered and held their own packs, wolves facing a tiger in their den.
The Stormsparrow greeted drones and people alike with effervescence. She was as if a song in motion, and behind her was a montum Avo couldn't fully grasp. Observing her with his conception of ontology, he realized that she was like a nest of different patterns. And imdiately, Kay's template found herself curious as to which Agnos created the Storm Sparrow's heaven.
Her foremost head remained a face of white with a red-lip smile, but her other heads were not idle either. They spoke, they laughed, and they taunted. And then there was the nature of her tamind. Her halo was a distortion. It coiled and spun as if collapsing inward eternally, but never truly arriving. Avo attempted to reach into her mind with his synchronicity, but even after long monts of travel, he found himself lost, only able to intercept the thoughts she projected outwards, never truly arriving at the place from which they were spawned.
"Friends," she said, a voice high and sharp. A cadre of four Highflars joked that first among them was a woman encased in glass-like armor. Her burning blue eyes narrowed as she spoke. "And who are you supposed to—"
She didn't manage to finish her sentence before she was pulled aside by her superior. A shorter man with twelve transplanted arms—empowered by a Heaven of Arms at that—gave the Stormsparrow a curt nod. "I apologize, she is new. She does not know—”
"It's all well," the Stormsparrow said, reaching out with one of her many limbs, wrapping the instrunt in a tight embrace. The man shuffled uncomfortably, and his cadre stood frozen. Several others coughed nearby, but did nothing to intervene.
Up in the podium, Naeko simply stared on as Avo showed displayed the Fallwalker using his phantoms. "Yep, that's her. Ying Yang Wei, Stormsparrow."
"Storm Sparrow?" Green River said, shooting up. Composed, the ter cracked, and the fox wrapped around her neck shot up, eyes wide. "Why is she here?"
I invited her, White-Rab said, voice echoing outwards from Avo. A mont's pause followed, and through the Overheaven ca another voice as well.
What? You did? She accepted your invite and not mine? Why? Offense burned inside Shotin.
She owes a favor, White Rab said. A pretty big one. Now you want to do a favor, Seeker? Keep an eye on Reva for , and focus on your problems.
I can't believe this shit, Shotin muttered under his breath. Avo kept him ignorant of Uthred Greatling’s presence, sparing further argunts.
When next Avo checked in on the Stormsparrow, she had sohow convinced the Highflars to start doing pirouettes while she held their hands. Four different instrunts of Highfla spun around and around as the city's most esteed and chaotic Fallwalker laughed with girlish glee. After the fourth spin, however, she pulled them off balance and made them each strike a pose.
And then Avo felt it, sothing rippling across the taphysical. And the next thing he knew, it was the Stormsparrow turning. But she wasn't turning in the vast lounge anymore. Instead, she was exactly in front of him, right beside Naeko, spinning on the balls of her feet.
"Ah, there you are," she said, holding her arms out wide. All three of her heads were pointed at soone. The leftmost stared at Osjon, simply smiling impassively. The rightmost regarded Nako, simply muttering sothing about not wanting to fight right now. The last head, front most head, stared directly at Avo himself.
"And you, who might you be," she said. "I caught your discordant little tune the mont I stepped in." And then her face shifted, and the smile faded. Her head cocked, and she looked him up and down. "No, I heard your tune earlier. I've been hearing your tune for the past month or so. Yes, it was faint and only grew louder over ti. But now, right here, it's deafening. Deafening."
A mont of silence went between them, and Avo quelled his own surprise as his templates struggled to make sense of what happened.
How? Avo asked Kae, uncertain how the Stormsparrow managed to track him so fast.
[I'm not fully sure myself. We will need to spend more ti observing her.]
"So, you are the Pale Spider then," the Storm Sparrow said.
"That is one of my nas."
"And you are the city's greatest Fallwalker."
She looked him up and down and pressed her lips together. “Well. I wouldn’t say that. We haven’t danced together yet, after all.”
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