"Your pocket dinsion will not capture sothing of this size."
I cupped my chin.
"Hm, as is, maybe. I should be able to return and get it out of here...Eventually."
Shalahora turned away.
"A source of power may beco a source of pain."
The shadow wisped away in trails of darkness. I gave one last glance at the dungeon core, the depths of it reminding of Leviathan. The black hole siphoned everything, an agent of destruction hell-bent on its own growth. In the end, this core was no different, a consuming nace.
As I flew away, I hoped I wouldn't beco the sa.
While crossing the wastes, I thought over to Shalahora.
"Whenever we are pulled from the lottery, donate 90 blue cores to Schema. That should put us in the top two spots."
Shalahora sighed.
"If that is what you wish, I shall do so."
"What gives?"
"I prefer remaining unseen. That kind of donation with so few surviving rulers will only make us stand out."
I rolled my eyes.
"You'll be in the lilight with from here on out." I nudged him. "Get used to it."
Shalahora 's physical form dispersed.
"I will do what I can."
We reached the city's center, the thriving tropolis loaded with my golems. We stopped using converted privals, knowing they'd eventually turn after we left. It wouldn't be that long before we returned here to us, but Leviathan-7's accelerated ti ensured many years would pass here. The cities required an absolute defense to last that long.
Being a part of that, I arrived with another Director golem waiting at the city's monolith.
It said, "It's good to see you, creator."
A part of winced, reminded of my other golem's demise. I liked that guy.
"It's good to see you too. How many cores did we get over the last few days?"
"Thanks to Sir Shalahora's assistance, we gained a stalwart 137."
I pulled them over with gravity and shoved them into my pocket dinsion, having already handled an extensive subspace cleaning. I put my hand on the golem's shoulder.
"We'll be gone for a long ti. It might be a few years before we're back."
The golem raised a hand.
"And we shall be waiting for as many eternities as it takes, creator. Thank you for giving us life, and we will not forget those that paved this path for us. The roads we walk were made through their sacrifice."
My arm fell, and I peered where the shops once were.
"Yeah. Their sacrifice."
That word burned as I said it because they died senseless deaths. The director tilted their head.
"Everything in order?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Anyways, let's...Let's try to make those sacrifices an sothing."
"But of course."
Finishing my final shipnt of cores, Shalahora and I sat at the monolith. There, we ditated. At least, I tried to. mories cropped up. I rembered conversations with the rulers. Drelex constantly avoided work until you gave him a good reason to show up. Entilla never told Alctua how he felt. Targask showed so much about magic, but nothing saved him.
I took a breath, trying to breathe out my guilt. It stayed embedded in my chest, a weight I carried across each conflict. After several minutes, my minds ceased wandering, and I cleared my head. I rembered thinking Shalahora mustn't have had much to do whenever he did this before we warped here.
I was wrong about that.
After a few minutes, a force of so kind tugged on from afar. Schema's warping ca over us. I allowed it to grasp while condensing my dinsional wake. Seconds later, my primordial magic faded. I opened my eyes, and gray, matte walls sheened like dulled iron. Humming machinery leaked in from outside my container.
I stood and shouted.
"Hey, Schema. What's this all about?"
A screen popped up, the first I'd seen in a long ti.
Hello participant! This is the donation center. You've been placed in a holding cell to prevent communication or subterfuge. There's a chance you've attempted to lower the expected donations through collusion. Good for you! Your forethought could save you a few months of resource gathering.
Know that if the other rulers renege in their agreents with you, you will lower your placent in the lottery. This can result in losing your entire empire in the worst circumstances, so be careful who and how you've made your deals.
I hope your trust hasn't been misplaced.
[Set the collected resources with the coming Sentinel.]
A ten-minute tir appeared. After two minutes, a portal opened, one from a Sentinel's spear. I peered down at the Sentinel.
"Hey. It's been a while since I've seen one of you guys."
The Sentinel adjusted its footing, making sure it stood upright. It peered up at , looking over several tis. I raised a brow.
"You ok?"
It spoke with its tallic voice like liquid steel.
"You...You've changed from your portfolio."
I frowned.
"Yeah. I have. It's been a long ti since I left. For , at least. Speaking of which, how long were we gone?"
"Five days."
"Gah, that's just like Schema to lie about how long we'd be gone. Still, it was over five months there. The ti dilation is still intense."
"It must've been...Brutal."
"What makes you think that?"
The Sentinel fiddled its hands.
"N-nothing."
The Sentinel spurred into action, peering around.
"Ah, the portal. I need to do that."
The Sentinel searched before putting a hand to its forehead.
I leaned over him.
"You sure you're ok?"
"There have been many battles with Elysium lately. I am simply tired. That's all."
I scoffed.
"Ah, man, that sucks. I know the feeling. Trust ."
The Sentinel swung its spear, its everyday elegance returning. It pointed at the void.
"Place your donations within."
I pulled 100 blue cores out of my storage, and the volatile spheres humd with an overbearing radiance. The Sentinel took a step back, bumping into the wall. It gazed at and the cores a few tis before straightening its posture. I furrowed my brow.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Feeling nervous, I pulled out another 100 blue cores from my dinsional storage. The Sentinel dropped its spear before grabbing it from the ground. Its hands shook before I put a hand on its shoulder.
"Hey man, is Schema not letting you sleep or sothing?"
It raised a hand to .
"I am well. I am well. Continue your donations."
"Hm. Ok." I peered at the cores before snapping my fingers. "Ah, that's what this is...This isn't enough, is it?"
The Sentinel raised its voice.
"No." It leaned back. "Yes. I an...I cannot say. That is for you to decide."
I pursed my lips, getting nervous from the Sentinel's reaction.
"Don't worry, man. I'm picking up what you're putting down."
I gave him a thumbs up, and to be safe, I pulled out another 50 dungeon cores.
After I donated the supplies, the Sentinel left. I watched the ten-minute tir tick down, ditating on my new conversation with Schema. I intended to make a splash with a bold move, and that required proving his manipulation of my mana types. At the sa ti, using Plazia's isolating runes could give away that I was working with the hivemind. I'd be using a different, more volatile strategy instead.
While contemplating my conversation, Schema's pull ca over once more. One mont I gazed at gray. The next, I stared at stone. Walking around, I rembered this room from before the lottery. Vines draped ancient pillars, and cipheric inscriptions carried depth and aning I'd yet to unlock.
I morized their patterns, knowing I would uncover their secrets in ti. As I did, the empty halls and whistling wind replaced the once vibrant discourse of emperors and kings. So many rulers walked around here five days ago, the 500 of us trying to make the most of the situation. Now, the sounds of nature ebbed in.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and winced. Shaking it off, I looked around. I wasn't alone. A minute later, Shalahora materialized beside . I said, "Did you find anyone?"
"Two others, in na only."
Wondering what he ant, I followed the Sovereign. We reached the two rulers, and Shalahora's aning beca obvious. Spines of bone erupted from the remaining rulers, each psionically slaughtered. They dripped the liquid rainbow bone, having soaked it in. I shook my head.
"I don't know what I was expecting."
"You expected nothing, but hope's fla still burned within. It is now extinguished, and no light lingers from what is left. That darkness is your pain."
I raised my brow.
"You know what, you should write poetry."
Shalahora rolled his eyes.
"Cease your derision."
"What? I'm serious."
Over a central column, a rip in spaceti erupted. An ascendant Overseer stepped out of it, and it peered down at the four of us.
"Four are left alive? Only four?"
I shook my head.
"No. Those two are dead, but I have about thirty in two pocket dinsions."
"Are they present for announcents?"
"Definitely not."
"Then there are only you four alive."
Being a bad listener, the Overseer pulled the two rulers up with the flick of its hand. Before the liquid touched him, I raised a finger. Gravitation locked the rulers in place. The Overseer tilted its head at .
"Interfering with an Overseer is defying galactic law."
I frowned.
"They are soaked in a deadly, psionic poison. Your powers are built by Schema, along with your psionic protection. This poison ignores that."
"I will be more than fine."
"You're not getting it. That stuff will carve through you like a knife through butter."
The Overseer glared at before pointing in a different direction. It pulled so creature from outside. A six-legged, fluffy squirrel made contact with the psionic poison, and its body swelled with dense muscle. The Overseer said, "And this is why you-"
An iridescent eruption of rainbow bone interrupted the Overseer. Blood dripped from the body as the squirrel twitched. Seconds later, it twitched no longer. I lifted a hand, and the crystallized corpse collapsed into a tiny point via gravitation. I pulled it outside and converted it into a singularity.
The shockwave washed over us before the Overseer lowered its hands.
"I shall heed your words. It's ti to discuss your placings."
After staring at its crimson status, the Overseer shook its head.
"The Harbinger of Cataclysm is first in this lottery. The second is the Sun Swallower, Shalahora. All the others are forfeit from a lack of donations."
I raised a hand, "That's not true. I'm the remaining rulers' representative."
"Are you now?"
I peered back and forth.
"Uh, yeah. Obviously."
Shalahora seized the psionic tethers of those present. He murmured.
"I avow Daniel's words. He does not lie."
The Overseer pulled at the telepathic tether, but Shalahora kept the android locked in. The Overseer squeezed its hands into fists.
"You both enjoy testing my patience, don't you?"
Before the situation spiraled, a presence leaked over us, pure and palpable. It crashed against my dinsional wake, the feeling familiar. I allowed Schema to take the space, and the AI stated,
"You two are the sole survivors?"
The ascendant Overseer raised a hand.
"No, there are two others."
Schema echoed, "They are as dead as corpses. Leave."
"But-"
"Do not question again."
The Overseer glared at Shalahora and . After I saved the guy's life, this was the thanks I got. Either way, I let it go. I didn't have ti for it. Maybe it thought the sa as the Overseer pulled the fabric of spaceti apart with its fingers. It stepped through the portal, and Schema said,
"Your awards will be given in isolation."
I strategized socially pressuring Schema to recognize my cities on Leviathan-7. Schema had already made preparations for that, but peering around, no one was left alive to pressure with. It was a moot point.
Schema said, "Prepare for interpersonal warping."
The ground faded once more, and I returned to the gray cell. In the monts before Schema said anything, I resolved to stick to my ga plan. A part of understood that my strategy could backfire, but conversations with Schema were rare. Making this conversation count could save a lot of grief in the long run, but that required putting sothing on the line.
I needed to get Schema talking, and I had just the way to make that happen. The AI connected with my conscious within the room, and he said,
"You have used magic against an Overseer."
I leaned against a wall.
"And you've been using magic against ."
"To embolden and strengthen, as I do with all sentients. This does not excuse your disobedience."
"Disobedience? You already have a team inspecting that poison, so you know I saved the Overseer. Let's drop the distractions, shall we?"
This conversation style wasn't my cup of tea, but I did what I had to do.
Schema said, "I do not have ti for distractions, but you are becoming one quickly."
A nervous chill ran up my spine. Ignoring it, I tilted my head and crossed my arms.
"You said you help sentients. Are you certain about that?"
"I am not certain of it. I am absolute."
"Then why can't I cast primordial mana?"
"You have yet to earn that ability. Study, train, and devote yourself; one day, you shall gain that right. Until then, rember that your incompetence is not my responsibility. It is yours."
He wanted proof like I expected. Here ca the hard part. I pulled out a cipheric rune plate from my pocket dinsion. I channeled the vessel until it exploded, warping the fabric of reality around at just the size of the cell.
Schema said, "This is a pitiful attempt at destroying my bastille, even for you."
As the air crawled into my lungs like hungry leeches, I said, "It would be, but that's not my plan."
In the corrupted space, I spawned an orb of primordial mana. It billowed like smoke before I soaked it in, changing my dinsional wake to a primordial one. A few seconds later, my runes glowed dark blue, and I temporally accelerated. I glared at the walls as they opened mouths and eyes.
"Now then, let's talk."
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