What the hells?
Id seen hints of this before. Glimrs of a past that cast Thoth not as an enemy, but as an ally. But from the way we talked, how that version of felt, we werent just allies.
We were friends.
More than that, I was an agent. In that tiline, Id taken part in the tamorphosis societys conspiracy to ward off Ragnarok. From the sound of it, I was one of the first. Sa as Thoth. There wasnt a lot of hard information about the cult, there never had been, and Thaddeuss absence had severely impeded any advancent in that direction. But from what Ralakos had told , it wasnt a small undertaking. They intended to use children with high potential for magical talentone of many tensions that eventually led Ralakos to walk away from the projectand from the way hed described it, thered been far more than three.
My predecessor seed saddened by the loss of the elf, but not at all surprised. More disquieting was the sense of finality to the proceedings.
Had every other looper shared the sa fate as the elf? Lost their minds over hundreds of iterations, countless wasted decades fighting against an enemy that could never truly be vanquished?
As the hemorrhaging husk of my soul lood over , swimming in the nothingness of eternity, it left with a final, unanswerable question.
What the fuck was I supposed to do?
No, really.
I was approaching the limits of plausibility here. Even if I exploited every loop with potential, used vurseng to increase the ti I spent conscious, squeezed every drop of blood, potential, and effort out of myself until there was nothing left, it still wouldnt be enough. Id lost, at the very least, centuries of experience. And the real number was almost definitively more. And assuming the absolute best casethat Thoth sohow hadnt reached the unknowable upper echelon of power my previous self was striving forshed still have a far better grasp on her power than I did.
It was unwinnable. It always had been. There were plenty of signs to that effect, ample evidence to draw from. Id been here before. But before, it was different. Id always been able to find the one reason to push forward, the one small, key, sliver of hope to keep marching forward. To keep fighting. Now there was nothing. Just a vacuous hole, as dark as the void that surrounded .
Hate her. Stoke the fire until its so hot you can barely stand it.
Clarity stilled the darkness, terrifying in its intensity. For all her self-righteous grandstanding, Thoth was the one who had betrayed . Whatever our bond, whatever her history, it was the only explanation. My previous self hadnt intended to leave the loop indefinitely. His mind was shielded, but of that, I was sure. It was a temporary reprieve, one that carried with it the chance of ascending to a higher level of power. I couldnt imagine being willing to give up everything Id built. So, when she removed from the loop, potentially the sa way shed removed U, Id trusted her to bring back in. And she hadnt.
It wasnt until either by chance or outside intervention Id kept my mories of a loop, and been granted an ability that in so small way countered Thoths that Id been able to offer any opposition at all.
My essence moved back and forth in the spiritual equivalent of pacing, as I tried to put myself in the headspace of my unknowable patron.
Again, why? Why bother? They must have known there was little to no chance of my offering all but the most token resistance. That the best I could do within my smaller loops would ensure my survival to the end, that even if I used every smaller loop to the fullest Id only reach a fraction of her centuries of accumulated power. Gods were not known for bestowing frivolous boons. Well, to so extent they were, but the boon Id received was anything but frivolous. If my gift was divine, given in a ti where the gods themselves were fading from this plane, it was almost assuredly astronomically expensive, even by divine standards.
So why? There had to be a reason. Sothing I had now that the previous loopers didnt.
When we are born, our souls are pure. When we die, our souls are damaged. Pure arcane energy repairs the soulwhether you want to call that god, or the devil, or whatever elsebut it doesnt do a perfect job. Residual magic left behind after repairing a soul is where manifested elents co from.
A chill cut through , as Ralakoss words surfaced in my mory. The foraminous soul. The rational reason my previous self wanted to be removed from the loop. He said that nothing affected him anymore, implied that the accumulated numbness stunted his ability to break through. To what, exactly, I still didnt know.
Slowly, I raised the mory orb, studying it silently. I had embedded it within my soul. If it wasnt for the extensive damage and my attempts to stabilize myself, I would have never found it. And I was becoming increasingly convinced that Irather, my predecessorwas the one whod hidden it there as a ssage, hoping itd eventually be found.
And as far as I knew, I was the only person who could find it.
Not giving myself enough ti to reconsider, I struck outward towards the center of my soul, five sparks of absolution forming apparitional fingertips. Soul matter trembled beneath the fire, cleaving.
What are you doing? The demonic eye squealed, shuffling toward the sudden blaze.
Sothing I should have done a long ti ago. I shoved further inward, carving out another section. This was what Id been missing. The reason I was chosen. Numbness aside, the centuries Id lived before the loss of my powers and mories had not been without cost. With the current state of my soul, I could sense the potential for another awakening years from now.
And that wasnt good enough.
I needed more power, and I needed it now. That was the advantage I held over the previous loopers. Perhaps, the only one. They needed so soul damage to reach arch-mage status, but their preferred thod was erosion. Realistically, with potential centuries ahead, they couldnt hasten the process without risking a collapse several iterations later.
But no matter how much the days, weeks, and months I repeated added up, I only had one life to live. Reincarnation ant little when my souls future resting place was consigned to the hells. There was no guarantee Id keep my mories in the event of a true restart. If beyond all odds I did, it ant that Id lose.
Everything.
At first, I tore away almost mindlessly, a dark glee driving forward as I carved piece after piece free from the whole. There were sections, places that when I neared them, a primal instinct warned to leave alone. I had enough mind left to heed those warnings and sotis carved around them, sotis cut through the surrounding matter and moved them.
Dimly, I rembered several diagrams Id encountered doing research on the soul in one of the many pocket libraries filled with ancient texts, scattered around the Sanctum. Diagrams of souls within them were grand, luminescent things, imparting a far more heavenly image than the dark-red-reality of the construct before . The text itself was a necromantic bible, delving far deeper into the forbidden magic than anything Id found in the more carefully censored sections of the Infernal libraries. The author was clearly a necromancer, and it was impliedthough never directly statedthat the diagrams of souls shed transcribed were from kidnapped subjects, all with varying degrees of magic potential. Of her many, many victims, one stood above the rest. A powerful mage the necromancer believed to be reaching the end of his reincarnation cycle.
The uniqueness of the subjects soul extended beyond the potency associated with age. Because unlike common souls, it kept a distinct shape. Shed described the shape of his soul as a spiral, completely hollow at the center, encased by rings of soul-matter descending towards the base. The base itself never returned to a discernible whole, rather it appeared to be composed of increasingly smaller rings, eventually growing so tiny they were impossible to discern even with the necromancers considerable abilities and equipnt.
And in the center, a core of pure, primal mana, encased within the rings.
The structure gave an obvious advantage. Over the course of a typical reincarnation, a soul's reconstruction was imperfect. Mana filled the gaps. The captured mage had sohow manipulated his soul to force a far greater quantity of mana towards the center. Over the remaining pages, before she moved on to the next section railing against the then-current practice of ritual sacrifice, the necromancer spent a lot of ti engaging in frustrated hypotheticals.
For one, she wasnt certain that a soul with such heavy modifications could survive the process of reincarnation and being transplanted into another body. It was likely too tampered with to be viable by the divine powers that decided such things, and would instead be sent to its final rest.
She admitted there was a possibility the mage might have intended to use whatever thod he used initially to restructure his soul to sothing more passable before he reached his end, but without knowing the thod, that was more conjecture than anything else.
My movents and adjustnts beca more calculated, intentional, as I continued to mutilate my soul, forming the top part of a spiral according to the diagram. It felt unstable, like it wouldnt take. I hesitated, not sure how to proceed.
Stop! The eye squealed again. Seemingly at the end of its patience, one of the infernal chains ca loose, snapping over the spiral and clamping down, holding it in place.
An idea ford. I floated above the eye, staring down at it, hoping my presence communicated disdain. I wonder what Ozra will do to you if you fail this simple task.
Many bad things. It snapped. Awful, awful things. And you will be dead. Very dead.
Then help . And we both get what we want. I communicated the structure I intended to form, and the ideal way for the infernal bindings to be rearranged. Unless the mystery mage had been an infernal with dantalion fla, we were probably using different thods here. I didnt have access to whatever esoteric magic hed used, that was apparently obscure enough that it stumped a necromancer powerful enough to capture him. What I had was a demonic contract, and the reinforcing binding that supported it.
The eye buzzed unhappily. No. Too risky. Far too risky. Im not allowed to adjust the terms of the contract.
Interesting. Even in its demonic, tangible form, the eye-parasite still considered the chains as terms.
Even if the soul itself is under threat? I asked.
No answer.
Sha. I shoved fingertips of fire into the depths of my soul, intentionally brushing against one of the vital sections. Up to then, the entire process had been unpleasant. Painful. But the pain had receded into a dull buzzing. That dull buzzing suddenly exploded into a deep vibration, rumbling within .
WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? The eye shouted.
I withdrew the fire and plunged it in once more, directly beside the previous point, creating two cavernous holes. Because this is required. I will not stop. Ill keep at this until I reach the end, or theres nothing left.
It seed to regain so backbone at the threat. A bluff! All things fear their undoing. You would not dare.
I tore out the barrier between the two, leaving a crater. Youve been with since the Enclave. Im guessing youve seen much. My battles, my actions, my choices. Youve had a front-row seat for all of it. So tell . After everything youve witnessed. You think nothingness is what I fear?
There was a long silence. Long enough that I withdrew the fingers of fla, and prepared to plunge them in again, tearing the vital section free. Suddenly the eye disappeared, reappearing directly in the path of my ghostly hand. It squinted, the red iris barely visible.
If this turns out to be so sort of ploy to escape your contract
Its not. I interrupted.
I will be punished. Severely. But the retribution I face will be a pittance compared to the penalty youll face in the hells. The eye said. Despite its pathetic appearance and voice, the threat carried enough weight that I got the impression it was probably telling the truth.
Slowly, the chains unfurled, creating a spiral trellis.
We built.
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