Novar’s Peak, the oldest human city on the continent of Inuan and the first settlent to be ford after the devastating collapse of the old Hasmathorian Empire thirty-thousand years ago, was bustling with activity.
Though, if the humans of that ti knew that half-dragons, goblins and tallic machines with souls would be traversing the roads alongside them… they might have collapsed in shock.
Which, by the looks of so of the current humans, was still a possibility.
“Mama… look! His scales are so beautiful!” a little boy, a greenish tint to his skin and no older than six, clamored while gazing in wonder at a half-dragon perusing Novarrian wares.
“D-don’t stare! Avert your eyes…!” the mother spoke, pulling the child into her arms and hiding behind her goblin husband who looked equally shocked by the half-dragon.
The winged humanoid however, had noticed and instead gave a friendly wave and a smile in return.
Orodan had to remind himself that it hadn’t even been a week since the loop started. Not even a week since Vylrystia had suddenly appeared green and full of life in this tiline. And less than that since trade and open travel between the different worlds of the alliance had beco open.
Lonvoron and the Collective were the only mber of their union who didn’t have an easy passage to their worlds open and that was primarily due to the fact that inter-galactic travel and teleportation was expensive and the best minds of the looping alliance were still working on finalizing a good design for regular, cheap and reliable spatial travel between galaxies for the masses.
Still, it was an incredibly odd sight to see a human woman hiding behind her goblin husband and looking at a half-dragon as though that was the oddity. In the ti where Orodan ca from before his cosmic alteration, goblins were seen as wicked monsters with plenty of nations having bounties per head.
There were no goblins in Volarbury County, which ant that Orodan’s first encounter with them had been when he’d t the Rising Spear Tribe of the original tiline. And from then he knew that they couldn’t be as bad as human society on Inuan saw them as.
But as odd as it seed here, it entirely made sense that humans and goblins would unite in their shared shock at seeing a half-dragon of Vylrystia which, from their perspective, had just popped into existence in the sky at the beginning of the loop.
In this tiline, the Rising Spear Tribe’s migration to Velestok and their avoidance of a genocide ant that goblins were now seen as a civilized race. There were still so incidents of discrimination of course, but by and large the people of the Republic had accepted them and had been living alongside them for almost two decades now. Hard not to when they had both the greatest chef and the greatest Jewelcrafter in the world among their ranks.
A phenonon which bled over to Novarria as well. Given the goblins’ naturally small hands which allowed them the capacity for incredibly fine detail it wasn’t uncommon to see adverts requesting goblin apprentices specifically for certain crafts such as Weaving and Jewelcrafting. Hells, even other trades such as Engineering and the construction trades saw the value of having soone small enough to do things which regular humans had a hard ti accomplishing.
Furthermore, goblins were regulars at the academies of the Republic, and even Novarria had caught on a few years ago and began allowing their admittance. And with the infrastructure of education behind them, it beca apparent that goblins made so fantastic warriors who were a nightmare to fight.
If Orodan had managed to overpower opponents larger than he by virtue of being too small for them to exert full strength upon him, then that sa principle held true for goblins. In the past twenty years, there had been at least three goblin winners of the Inter-Academy Tournant, and seeing the little race participating in fight clubs or wrestling circuits.
The rise and prominence of goblinkind over the past two decades had not made the halflings of the Republic and Eastern Kingdoms happy, but what could they do? With the full backing of the Republic, smooth integration into the Republic’s culture and two fad figures to their race’s na, the goblins were now here to stay and were important mbers of Inuanan society. Sothing which had bled over into Novarria as well.
“Er… Mister Wainwright… you are staring…” Kalemar muttered.
Unlike the regular people of this tiline who were not ti loopers, to every single one of the Alastaian ti loopers this regular part of the new tiline was quite the culture shock. He had attended the Rising Spear Tribe’s celebratory dinner, but that was within their residential quarter in Velestok; an enclave for their kind where he had not really gotten to see how widespread goblins had beco.
“Apologies. I do not an to stare… I am unused to this is all,” Orodan clarified. “A family is a family.”
“Were it anyone else, I would have said it surprising, but in your case I entirely expected you would approve, given your betrothal to a half-dragon,” Kalemar spoke and then the man’s face slightly darkened. “Though… not everyone among the loopers see it that way.”
“How so?” he asked, getting the sudden urge to connect his fist with sothing.
“It is of no trouble and I was explicitly told not to bother you with it, especially since his Majesty Balastion and Lord Adeltaj are working to address it already,” Kalemar explained. “But the issue with bringing back an entire army of ti loopers is that many of them might have less than favorable opinions of certain races. Particularly goblins, who in our original tiline were the source of much raiding, death and monster hunts. Seeing them so well-integrated into human society… it makes a small minority of Alastaian loopers unhappy.”
By proxy, sothing protective flared in him. He had been irked when his disciple had been the subject of such disdain in early loops, and he was similarly irked now. Seeing an entire people as one warband that had committed atrocities. A most narrow view.
Had they not seen how Zukelmux fought for Alastaia? Had they not seen Chieftain Griok of the Rising Spear Tribe and how that elderly goblin’s contributions to the ancient machine had allowed for this current tiline and all the ti loopers? Orodan had been called an idiot, but this was a viewpoint he saw as truly idiotic.
And it seed the couple and their child had noticed him gazing at them for a while now.
“It… it’s him… I saw the painting… it’s him!” the goblin exclaid in a tone which had Orodan feeling more than a little uncomfortable.
“Forgive for staring. You simply sparked a discussion my friend and I were having,” Orodan spoke, a light tone. “Has Edrosic been scrawling more posters of ?”
“My… my lord, please, we are unworthy of looking upon you. If there is anything this one may do to-”
Orodan caught and straightened the goblin before he could fall to his knees in front of his wife and child.
“Do not. I have done nothing and your family are right here too,” he gently spoke, attempting to calm the goblin.
Unfortunately it was to no avail. Not just the goblin but his human wife and half-goblin son were also looking at him in a most unsettling manner now.
Reverence.
That was what it was.
He hadn’t taken a proper stroll along the streets of an Inuanan city since beginning the loop. He had been to Vylrystia where the half-dragons dwelt, to Bluefire Academy where everyone was either a martial or mage and no civilians abounded, and to the Romnara Isles and Vorskard.
Aside from Vylrystia where that bastard Edrosic had drawn so exceptionally false impressions of him, everywhere else there were others who could draw attention from him. Or it had simply been too early in the loop for people to catch on.
But now… it seed the goblin’s cry had drawn everyone on the street to look at him. And everyone seed to recognize who he was.
“By the Gods… it’s him. It’s Orodan Wainwright, the ti looper.”
“He’s every bit as intimidating as they say…”
“And he still wears that county militia uniform too, such humility…!”
“Do you think he’s training sothing as we speak?”
“Papa if I eat my vegetables will I get muscles like that?”
“My Lord Wainwright! How goes your chronomancy training? My cousin has told of the Second Pass!”
“Hey! Be quiet and show so respect! He’s a busy man working hard on behalf of us all!”
“Don’t kneel you idiot! They say he hates that!”
“Is he really a… what do they call it… an Embodier? I haven’t even seen a Grandmaster and now I get to lay eyes upon him?”
“Mama I want a sword and shield too!”
The cacophony of mutters, cries and exclamations drowned out every other noise. And at the center of the entire street’s attention, was he.
“Kalemar…” Orodan quietly muttered. “What is this?”
“My lord… I did recomnd you wear a hood, did I not?” the man whispered. “This is, not unsurprising, but certainly a recent developnt which we have been monitoring.”
“And that recent developnt is?”
“You. And the existence of the ti loops. It’s rather difficult to keep tens of thousands of ti loopers’ mouths shut and sooner or later one of them is bound to let slip the idea that they’re all in a ti loop and you’re the cause of it. One tale led to another, and soon enough so of the Elites and Masters were talking and before we could interveve the common citizen knew about Masters, Grandmasters, Transcendents and Embodiers,” Kalemar explained. “You, Mister Wainwright. Are the subject of much news, speculation and anticipation. Many of the civilians talk about your heralded second attempt at the ti loop chanism as though they are speaking of a religious event. So of the ti loopers do too.”
“I do not wish to be the center of so cult,” Orodan quickly replied.
“I believe that choice has been taken out of your hands now. As has it from ours. Even if the non-loopers do not rember, the ones who loop do… many of them eagerly await the day you can bring their non-looping loved ones into the loops as well.”
Fantastic.
Orodan had started a cult centered around himself and the ti loops.
A swift Dinsional Step in which he pulled Kalemar along got them out of that spot and into an abandoned alleyway which was near their destination.
“What’s this nonsense about a second pass now?” he asked/
And so Kalemar explained.
The Second Pass.
It was what many of the loopers and in particular the non-loopers were now referring to as the anticipated second attempt of his to interact with the ti loop chanism.
Orodan hadn’t thought that the coining of such a simple term by the High-Orast would have caught on, but it had. Hard not to when the gathering had so many people involved and each ti they convened was a montous occasion.
And he had really… really not been paying attention to how people not in the loops were viewing the whole thing. And how even the loopers saw him.
Novar’s Peak had plenty of scrying eye orbs flitting about, and only now did he truly pay attention and notice how they were watching him. Most of them belonged to the Novarrian Intelligence Service, but so did not, and he noticed the mana tethers leading to private citizens or people keeping an eye on and ‘discreetly’ capturing monts of him walking down the road.
It was an entirely new level of attention he did not think he’d ever experienced before.
“To you that eting was routine, a re continuation of what you’ve already been doing, but to the loopers in that chamber, to those who received news of what was said… it is hope, Mister Wainwright. You have already done the impossible and brought many people into the ti loops. You’ve also righted plenty of wrongs and brought happiness and contentnt to the lives of many,” Kalemar explained. “That goblin’s recognition of you was no jest. The Rising Spear Tribe has been insistent on spreading word of you and how you’ve bettered the lives of goblinkind overall. Vylrystia and its half-dragons are practically reverent of you. As are the Blackworth Collective whose worlds you’ve liberated from the plague. The hopes of everyone ride on you. They have heard of who you are, what you’ve done, and the things that you do. Perhaps a more lackadaisical or selfish person would earn their ire, but the stories of how hard you work and how you raise your disciples… everyone pays attention to these things.”
“I saw wrongs and I corrected them, that is all,” Orodan replied. He had always been made uncomfortable by excessive gratitude, but hearing all this was simply too much. “If I see a problem I shall address it. This is simply the way of the warrior. The straightforward path I shall always take.”
“No, Mister Wainwright. I have seen many warriors. Of far lesser ttle than yourself perhaps, but warriors all the sa. And they are not nearly as selfless and giving as you. I confess… I find it incredibly ironic that the man who ca from nothing is so willing to shoulder everything. A blooded orphan from the street of Ogdenborough you may be… yet you carry yourself with more honor and heroism than any shining warriors of our nation do.”
“Kalemar… your words go too far. I have rely done what anyone of sufficient power would do. Yes, perhaps I did not have such power in the first place and was forced to painstakingly earn it, but the endpoint is all the sa.”
“No it is not. A simple look at the other powers of our cruel cosmos make this evident. Which other looper has dared try what you have? Which of them has declared that they will argue on behalf of a woman they do not even know to her lover that he might treat her better? Who among them declares the wants and dreams of all their people to be his own?” the Vice-Director sharply spoke back with a frown. “I did not know you very well prior to this loop. But having spent the past few days alongside you, shadowing your activities… your character is evident. And I for one, am glad that you are the ti looper and none other.”
Orodan felt distinctly uncomfortable. In the Vice-Director’s tone was that sa, almost hopeful tone that everyone else had. Were they all counting upon him now? Perhaps it would have been easier if he was a lazy layabout who did nothing. At least then people might react with derision, disdain, hatred.
And although those like Aliya’s brother proved that those already existed… that was accompanied by the apparently far greater number of people who held hope in him succeeding.
“I am just a man.”
“I know of no other man who can shatter large portions of a galaxy like you can. And though you may be just a man… the prospect of holding hope in you is a far more palatable one than trusting in fickle Gods who have not always managed to deliver.”
Kalemar’s words were quiet, the alleyway entirely empty. Yet the gravity of them was clearly felt.
Orodan had never been the religious sort himself. Most people swore or cursed by the Gods in the Republic, but he’d never developed the habit himself.
Before the loops, the street rats cared little for going to the temple, and although the matrons had once or twice mandated a trip to Scarmorrow, it was sothing done as though having to check an item off a list. The day-to-day struggle of survival on the streets of Ogdenborough took precedence over giving any praise to Gods who cared not for them.
Agathor? What use was the God of War when he starved and was jumped by six bigger children when he was but a little child? Halor? What did the God of Life and Nature do when he nearly froze in the winter when he’d headed out due to needing to fight for each scrap of food he could get? Ilyatana, ironically enough was the only Goddess he could give so credit to, for at least her faithful had organized the orphanage he slept in on most nights.
No. The only thing which had gotten him through those tis had been his own grit and the desperate struggle for survival. No Gods had helped at the ti. No Gods had stopped his parents from getting murdered.
And it was this lack of faith he himself had which let him clearly see what was occurring. The reverence in the man’s words and voice which he felt was entirely unnecessary.
“Well, if you intended to make feel distinctly uncomfortable, Kalemar, you have succeeded.”
“As the liaison to the ti looper himself, keeping you inford of such things is rely my job,” the man said with a pleasant smile. “Now then, I believe Ilydia’s manor is just up ahead. As ridiculous as this endeavor is, Mister Wainwright, I am glad you are following through with it.”
Orodan himself didn’t see what was so ridiculous about it? He would simply barge in and assess thi man’s character and hold him to account.
Stepping out of the alleyway was thankfully not as ssy an affair, and the scrying eyes he saw in the air were still frantically looking to reacquire his position. With them preoccupied, he and Kalemar moved through the relatively empty roads of Novar’s Peak’s noble district to find themselves before a well-off manor.
Even without the stipend from teaching a Master-level alchemist was in high-demand and made good money. Accordingly, the manor despite not attempting to look opulent, was still expansive and telling of the owner’s wealth.
There were gardeners and manorial staff on the front lawn too. He hadn’t been to many noble dwellings and his experience with laborers and workers was mostly limited to work sites and the trades. And there, the general look of the employed was a good indicator as to how fair the employer was.
But from the look of them, these folk seed content, well-clothed and well-fed.
And they noticed the two arrivals.
“Guests? I do not believe the lady was expecting any, but please hold a mont sirs,” the gardener spoke, communications amulet glowing as the woman reached out to soone.
Once upon a ti, Orodan would have kicked down the front doors and entered without a care like he had with the Rockwoods. But nowadays he reserved that side of him for those who warranted it.
Soon enough they were in the large foyer of the manor.
“Please have a seat my lords,” a maid spoke while continuing her duties of sweeping. “The lady’s been inford that you wish to see her.”
The maid, wearing a simple uniform, seed entirely at ease too. It was the way of the lowborn non-combatants to be wary of those of gentle birth or combat specialists, but she did not seem afraid or skittish of the two of them in the slightest. It spoke well of Ilydia Arestos’s character.
The existence of two Elite-level guards that Orodan detected on the upper landing indicated how much the Empire valued her. Trust them to not leave an asset unguarded. But despite the fact that, a Master-level craftswoman’s trade paid well, the owner of the manor didn’t seem to be a woman who enjoyed opulent displays. Her abode was accordingly plain; paintings of fad alchemists and frad recipes—likely concocted by her—lined the walls. Her accomplishnts.
The manor itself told the story of a woman who was focused on her work, treated those around her well, and lived relatively modestly. Orodan found himself warming to Ilydia.
But whether he could say the sa for the man walking down the stairs remained to be seen. The first thing he noted was a luxurious robe which looked quite out-of-place in this relatively plain manor. And a most saccharine look upon his face which had Orodan likening it to those plants which caught flies baited with false nectar.
He didn’t often judge soone at a glance, but sothing about this man’s gait as he gracefully strolled down the stairs was a bit too smooth. Too suave. Crafted.
And that mask seed to waver and the man behind it stiffen as he recognized him on sight.
“By the new Gods of our world! To see the illustrious Orodan Wainwright himself in our manor! I see Ilydia spoke true. She truly did et with you,” the man spoke. “What an honor this is. Incredible… to have the vaunted ti looper himself in our ho.”
“Our?” Kalemar spoke up. “Last I recall the manor still belonged to Lady Arestos. A quick record check I had perford an hour ago.”
“And Vice-Director Kalemar Cosanox of the Intelligence Service…? What a pleasure,” the man spoke, quite taken aback.
Orodan was a distant and cosmically famous individual within the context of the ti loops that so many were now part of and learning about the existence of. But Kalemar was high-nobility and renowned in Novarrian society even before the ti loops. If he was a central figure who had dominated peoples’ attentions for the past few days, then Kalemar and his role in the Intelligence Service had been there for far longer.
“Is she here?” Orodan asked bluntly
“She… is. Just busy with one of her experints, as usual,” the man spoke, the lie evident to Orodan’s soul senses. “Such a hard-working woman she is.”
The patter of light footsteps coming down the stairway confird to Orodan that the woman was not in fact busy with an experint.
“Darling? I thought you said it was an unimportant visitor of yours?” Ilydia Arestos spoke, coming down the landing. “Such a loud voice too… O-Orodan Wainwright?! I…! this is…! Have you co to claim vengeance?”
He frowned.
“Not at all. Why would I when you spoke the truth and laid the rightful responsibility for my actions where it belonged?” he spoke. “No. I have co to keep my promise. Ilydia Arestos, I have brought two rings that you might propose here and now. Co, I shall help you muster up the courage if you require it.”
Even Kalemar Cosanox, who brought out the box and opened it, looked ashad to be a part of this situation. Hells, even Orodan felt most odd wedging himself into the personal affairs of other people.
But this… this was his way.
If he saw sothing wrong, he would make no flimsy excuses about it not being his business. He would fix it. Just as he had many tis before and created far bigger problems for himself in the process. But those were problems he welcod with open arms, for he would never be ashad of charging foe or problem with blade in hand.
And this? This was a problem of his own making. So it stood to reason that his stubborn nature refused to let him drop the matter.
Though by the look of it the woman seed shocked, but the man seed even paler, his face running through many calculations before that mask slipped back on.
“L-Lord Wainwright, this is entirely unnecessary! At this point in our lives Ilydia and I are quite comfortable and settled in our ways, you see, a marriage now would jeopardize our carefully laid-”
“Tiberon Astridius. Son of Fausta Astridius. Elite-level social specialist and a renowned socialite known to frequent Republican and Novarrian circles. Two months ago it was reported that you were seen in Bluefire cavorting with Elucian Arslan’s sister, and here you are now,” Kalemar interjected. “By all accounts from our diviners and chronomancers your relationship with Lady Ilydia Arestos began only a few weeks ago. Rather soon for carefully laid plans of any sort, is it not?”
Tiberon’s face again paled but he schooled it quickly and Orodan felt the usage of a social skill. Both inwards to help himself appear in a better light and outwards that anyone perceiving his argunts might be swayed easier.
“Our love is deep, one which ignited at first sight. Rather untoward of you to judge us for the length of ti we have been together, no?”
“Ah, forgive Mister Astridius,” Kalemar spoke, his tone pleasant but hiding sothing sharp underneath. “Allow to then judge you for sothing else. Your financial handling of Lady Arestos’s accounts.”
The woman in question was by now beginning to look quite uncomfortable.
“My accounts are now jointly managed by the both of us. There is nothing illegal about that, Vice-Director,” Ilydia herself spoke up.
“Indeed. Although the amount of discretionary spending put towards a certain Tiberon Astridius is more than a bit concerning. Particularly when the transactions and withdrawals from your account are many tis occurring when you are teaching at the Academy,” Kalemar spoke. “Which begs the question of where these funds go when you are not involved?”
Ilydia frowned and looked at Tiberon, though in her eyes it was as though she did not want to believe anything bad of him.
“My love, it is rely the movent of funds to a joint account from where we can operate and do business. As we spoke of before I can help multiply your wealth and with it… our plan of a family down the line.”
“Just as you reportedly promised the sa to Silwaana Arslan?” the Vice-Director shot. “You realize that we have access to chronomancers, diviners and mind mages, yes? Getting the truth out is a simple matter.”
“Preposterous! You are weaponizing your position to overreach, Vice-Director,” Tiberon protested. “How would the emperor feel knowing that Intelligence Service resources are going towards breaching the personal affairs of a loving and consenting couple? If such a thing were made public…”
“The first emperor would care not. And you overestimate the importance of a re Elite barking loudly about what the Intelligence Service does with its resources,” Kalemar spoke. “Are you aware of who you stand before, lad?”
“Enough! What have you co here for? To bully and intimidate the man I love?” Ilydia shouted. “If that’s all you’re here for then I’m this close to demanding you leave.”
The Vice-Director’s tone was harsh and deaning too. The man might’ve excelled at intelligence gathering, but his disdain for Tiberon was apparent and it wasn’t sothing he intended to waste ti bandying words about. But that was where Orodan, despite his bullheaded nature, saw clearly. He had seen enough instances of soone remaining with a lover who was bad for them. It was no clean cut affair where the unfortunate individual could just leave at a whim.
The hooks went deep, and when push ca to shove the hooks clenched and pulled them towards the source of their misery rather than towards liberation. The Vice-Director was only pushing Ilydia closer to this man.
“Kalemar. It is fine,” Orodan said. “I ca here to help her propose and to get the asure of this man who she has fallen in with. What she does from there is her choice.”
“Then… you don’t intend to break us apart?” Tiberon asked.
“No. Rather, I intend to sit here and convince you why marrying her is the right choice and how you can treat her better.”
“…!”
And so began the most ridiculous thing Orodan had done in a while.
He stood there, and he stubbornly argued.
And argued… and argued so more.
Naturally, Tiberon’s initial reception was not a welcoming one when Kalemar brought out docunts, divination and chronomancy reports and more.
“Your very appearance here is making this a spectacle and it will affect Ilydia’s reputation,” Tiberon warned.
“We’re inside her manor with not even the staff around now,” Orodan calmly shut down. “Now, let’s talk about how marriage is a good thing. I’m no expert, but I hear both her and your finances will be tied together. Which ans her gold will be yours but your gold will also be hers. Is that not a good thing when you two truly love one another?”
And from there ca the excuses of how they were not ready for marriage yet.
“We already have plans to seek the expertise of a jeweler and-”
“We’ve intercepted those and these rings are made of even finer materials,” Kalemar cut in. “Consider it a gift and apology for Mister Wainwright’s error.”
Further back and forth occurred from where he transitioned to making himself appear the victim.
“You two are intimidating ! I feel ganged up on and unsafe!”
“Unsafe? You’re within Novar’s Peak and all imdiate threats to our nation and world are well-managed. How are you unsafe?”
One excuse flowed into the next. The sli minimized, made excuses, attempted to make himself appear the victim, continually grandstanded about how much he loved Ilydia and so on.
Orodan had seen much of these things growing up. He knew that the best way to get a quick-mouthed spewer of hot air to shut up was to be direct. And while at one point of his life that directness would have involved a fist.
Now…
…he simply proposed ways the man could treat Ilydia better.
Because if he truly loved her then of course he would do it.
“So will you marry her or not? If you say you love her, and we handle the finances, what’s the issue?”
“That is…!” Tiberon choked out, teeth gritted.
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The man launched one flimsy excuse and deflection after another, but Orodan kept on task, posing very simple and straightforward questions which had the sli looking worse and worse with each passing mont. Frankly, it wasn’t so clever ploy either. He really did just ask so very direct questions which cut to the heart of the matter while shooting down all of Tiberon’s attempts to steer the conversation another way with his typical bluntness.
“Alright. So not only will Novarria fund both of your coffers, but you’ll also be granted a slot upon the mory transference orb and access to so of the best tutors around. Is that acceptable? Will that change your mind on the question of marrying her?”
It was a straightforward offer, and if remaining consistent, the man’s answer should have remained no.
And it did.
Unfortunately for him, and for Ilydia, he couldn’t hide his desire to say yes nearly as well as he’d have liked.
“That… does not change my mind. I could not accept such charity. Forgive , Lord Wainwright but Ilydia and I have-”
“I need to go.”
The words ca not from Tiberon, but the now sullen Master-level alchemist next to him. A woman whose face had been getting gloomier and gloomier as the conversation progressed.
“Ilydia wait-”
But the woman had already stord out the front, tears in her eyes. The facade… broken.
“You…! You did this!” Tiberon rounded, fists clenched in fury. “Broke an innocent couple apart!”
“Alternately, I simply asked you a few questions, and your own answers provided her a clear enough sight,” he replied, entirely unfazed. “You can still make things right by treating her as she deserves. That woman appears rather taken with you, or did anyhow.”
The socialite snarled, it was an ugly thing. For a mont the man’s hand twitched, sothing most wouldn’t have noticed, but Orodan having been in enough fights even before the loops knew that specific motion implied a knife on the belt. Frankly, he was happy to lower his strength and speed to match and engage in a brawl, but Tiberon thought better of it as the man’s eyes scanned up and down.
And he apparently didn’t like the odds he sized up.
“What? If you wanted a fight we can do that too,” Orodan offered politely in a calm tone. “I’ll never turn one of those down.”
“You are a bully and a thug! You barged into our ho-”
“Her ho,” Kalemar corrected, causing the sli’s face to get even redder. It was the first honest expression Orodan had seen on his face.
Still, Tiberon had so level of practice with these things. He schooled himself quickly, slipping the mask of the deceit back on.
“I believe we are done here. VIce-Director… Lord Wainwright… I must seek leave to attend to Ilydia that I might address her hurts,” he calmly spoke.
But before he could leave, Orodan asked him a simple question.
“Why?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Why do you act in such a manner? I profess, I’m but a street rat and an orphan, I grew up knowing nothing but honest violence and straightforward consequences. Your way of life, your entire… ga… it is foreign to . I have seen it many a ti, all too often in a miserable town like Ogdenborough where poverty was perpetual and n and won both would seek union with soone terrible to avoid the bite of scarcity. But I never had the chance to ask one of your lot why they do it.”
Orodan looked at Tiberon Astridius with curiosity.
“A ga? Is that what you consider our love to be?”
“Co now, let’s dispense with the ruse. I noticed from the get-go that you speak in misleading ways and have a certain falseness to you. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that; in fact a friend of mine—one of the lords of Eldiron—has a similar skill. Though his is used for good. Why do you use yours to lead your lovers along?”
“Your claims are offensive and weaponized to portray as so wicked villain and you the hero. Is that what you want Lord Wainwright? To be the hero yet again that everyone already sees you as? Have it then, I shall publicly recant and you shall win. Will that satisfy you?” Tiberon asked, venom in his voice. “My mother an illegal necromancer who abused . My life full of misery after our house was disgraced. And the one ti I find happiness it must be torn down by the mightiest man of our world?”
If they were in a theatre, Orodan had no doubt the audience would have clapped by now. The social skill had no effect on him or Kalemar, but it did illustrate how disruptive one in the wrong hands could be. And this man had rely led won on after ensnaring their hearts. An act which left a foul taste in the mouth but was in no way unlawful.
What could soone with worse intentions and a more powerful social skill do?
“You are playing the martyr yet again,” Kalemar stepped in, frowning and more than ready to be done with this but remaining only for Orodan’s sake.
“Your very act of barging into our abode has caused enough hurt. How can I not be aggrieved? Especially when the most powerful man on Alastaia stands before alongside the Vice-Director of the Novarrian Intelligence Service?” Tiberon sharply questioned in turn. “You know? The people speculate about you every day. That you must be training hard, doing heroic things and toiling away on their behalf in pursuit of the Second Pass. How would they react? How would your fellow ti loopers feel? If they knew the mighty world-breaking Orodan Wainwright stoops so low as to ddle in personal affairs? In , you’ve t a problem you cannot punch and that must frustrate you. Kill or erase and Ilydia will know, your comrades will see what a tyrant you are. And what then? Will that be on your conscience?”
Frankly, Orodan absolutely could punch this deceiver. In fact, Eidolon of Violence was almost chomping at the bit to be let loose so that it could murder the deceit within this man and turn him honest. His new Celestial skill’s ability to do the impossible and directly affect the taphysical was tailor-made for such situations. In fact, Kalemar was giving him an almost pleading side-eye, hoping that he would.
But that would have been wrong.
Just as Ilydia was free to make her own mistakes, so too was this sli free to choose his own path in life.
“I see. You must think a very gentle man. One who is is quite concerned about ethics, the taking of lives and the opinions of those around ,” Orodan said with a smile, and then that expression turned feral for the barest of instants. The man stepping backwards as though he had encountered a true monster. “Unfortunately for you, I am but a base-born street rat used to killing even before I was a ti looper. I’ve killed before, and if I must kill again I shall have no qualms with it, regardless of what people think.”
This man wore a mask to hide who he was. But Orodan had always known and accepted that he was a violent monster. There was no mask. Tiberon had been looking right at him from the start but simply had not known.
“Y-you…! A beast! A barbarian! You’ll terrorize us all!”
“And who have I terrorized thus far besides you? All I’ve done is ask you questions. So, now that we have stripped away these pretences, allow to ask again…
…why?”
It was a dumb question. Orodan could already see the man’s character and had seen it over the course of this entire conversation.
And the socialite wasn’t wrong either. People would think him mad if they saw that the main ti looper was wasting ti dealing with a personal affair of such trifling nature.
But for Orodan who believed in righting his own wrongs? This was the only way forward.
And perhaps he could even reform soone through enough stubborn argunt.
#
Kalemar had really wanted him to murder that man. It was evident in how the Vice-Director was still fuming a bit even as he furiously compared docunts as his underling operatives took notes on what Orodan was doing.
“I don’t know why you’re so angry… it all ended well.”
“Mister Wainwright…” Kalemar calmly began, yet with an icy irritation underlying. “Not only did you waste twelve straight hours. But you also subjected to every word of the most circular back-and-forth argunt I have ever seen in my life. I would sooner go back to being a clerk at the Imperial courts as I was when a boy than ever listen to that again.”
“Apologies. But it worked, did it not? He seed quite changed by the ti I was through.”
“His ears were bleeding!” the Vice-Director scolded. “I have never in all my legal and intelligence career seen soone’s ears bleed because they were being lectured too much! How does that even work? This new skill of yours is as characteristically vexatious as you are! It was more sermon and lecture than it was argunt, as though you forced your ideas into his brain through sheer persistence and his own desire to die on the spot of hearing the sa things over and over.”
Kalemar Cosanox had given up all pretence of being polite with him. Now that the man had seen the depths of Orodan’s real character, the reverence and faith had transitioned to pure irritation and annoyance at having to deal with him and his way of doing things.
Just how he liked it!
He’d also gotten a new skill over the course of arguing with Tiberon Astridius. The ssage had been a nice reward for all his effort.
[New Skill → Stubborn Persuasion 8 (Rare)]
It was what had helped him truly reform the man.
Well, perhaps reform might have been too strong a term.
Rather, the man had been sufficiently chastised, lectured and given sermon enough that he was likely to have thoughts of Orodan and his very logical and not-at-all circular argunts whenever he thought of acting astray.
But this was good. One more problem solved, even if it was one wrought by his own hand.
And now, upon the grounds of Bluefire Academy in the Republic, Orodan was being put to work as his instructors arrived.
A ten-foot tall half-dragon, one he had seen before and a heavily armored Master-level warrior.
The half-dragon was Zaessythra’s ntor, a Grandmaster-level draconic warrior. Although he did not recognize the human martial.
“Mister Wainwright, I believe you have t General Vaelrosaan of Vylrystia already. Alongside him is Warden Varadian Rockwood, Commander of the north district of Karilsgard’s Capital Guard. A man noted as being the best armor-master of the alliance,” Kalemar introduced. “As you know, insights can appear from anywhere and anyone.”
Orodan was not one to be fooled by appearances and titles. The man was a peak Master, nearing Grandmastery yes, but a Master nonetheless. By all accounts this warrior seed out of place next to the Grandmaster half-dragon General of Vylrystia.
Yet the armor he wore, it was shoddy. Not of great make. Orodan had fought dwarves who were exceptionally tough opponents with good armor, and this man’s plate was rather sub-par even by Republic blacksmith standards.
Which was what made the sheer durability he sensed off of it a surprise.
“I see the World-King of Alastaia has keen eyes,” the half-dragon spoke, giving him a half-bow. “To use scrap-quality plate in such a way that it becos a fortress. Is that not the mark of a true armor-master?”
“It is indeed,” Orodan said, returning the General’s gesture and then proffering a hand to the man. “Orodan Wainwright. I believe you are to be one of my instructors in the ways of armor.”
“And it shall be an honor, Lord Wainwright. The ancestor spared no breath in impressing upon the gravity of your favor rendered unto her. Elder Alcianne is free of Halor and she lives happily with elder Arvayne Firesword now. And although she does not participate in the affairs of the house lately, her words carry much weight. We are indebted to you, and I personally am honored to be one of the ti loopers who fought alongside the alliance and was chosen for inclusion into the loops,” Varadian Rockwood spoke. “You are a true warrior, this we all have seen. But the General, myself and many of the alliance’s leading martials believe that you could beco even greater. Naly, through exposure to techniques you are unfamiliar with. One of them being armor.”
“I do not don armor, that much I am sure you know.”
“Correct. Your resilience of body would only be hindered if we put armor on you. Your choice is as much a training thod as it is a philosophy,” Varadian explained, correctly identifying that Orodan liked getting tougher via training Iron Body, Bulwark Physical Resistance and Iron Body. “Consider however, where you could go if you learned the principles of Armor Mastery. Those defensive enchantnts you have recently begun using? Stronger. Your shield’s ability to defend? Greater. Your ability to shrug off blows while receiving less damage? Better. The Novarrian Intelligence Service has been taking extensive notes on you, my lord. Having reviewed everything, I believe we can help you ascend to greater heights.”
“The Armor Master speaks true. Your natural potential and knack for the way of the warrior when combined with a diverse array of formal training will push you even farther,” the half-dragon added. “You already slew one Administrator. We intend on forging you into a match for more.”
“Clock is a go sir, marking the beginning of training block C,” an operative called out to Kalemar as the Vice-Director nodded. Orodan’s training had beco very reginted and a lot more efficient now that these people had begun implenting their thods.
The Warden of the Capital Guard approached him and affixed a bunch of rusted and miserable-looking armor plated to his shoulders, torso, arms and back. The tal was so rusted that it practically gave off an aura of decay. Sobody without a hearty constitution would be breathing in rust dust and choking quite badly too.
“Now, I have heard of your Cleaning abilities but I shall have to ask that you stay your hand. These plates are ant to be how they are.”
“I can see that. This will be good training,” Orodan said, excited as he veered himself into position and took a fighting stance.
The Warden was a trained warrior, recognition of the combat stance registering as the man’s own shield and hamr ca out.
“Your task is a simple one, my lord. Do not allow to break a single one of those plates you wear. Do not allow to touch anything beneath the plates at all. You shall not evade or interfere with the attack in any way. You are to take the blow and ensure the armor remains undamaged.”
Few words were needed after that.
Varadian Rockwood’s first hamr blow thundered down unto the rusted pauldron. But Orodan was no inexperienced sprout. The notions of Shield Mastery and Unassailable Fortress ca into play. He turned into the blow at a most favorable angle.
tal hamr head sharply scraped rusted armor, a shower of sparks filling the air from the force.
“Very good! Your reputation as a peerless warrior is not unearned. You intuitively grasp what I intend to teach,” Varadian praised as he re-chambered the next strike. The man was holding back too, allowing Orodan to get a feel for the exercise. “That’s a lot of tal I shaved off the plate too. More of that and the pauldron might not last.”
More exchanges of this continued. He was forced to take the blows on the armor, his charge: to not allow its destruction nor the touch of the attack upon his own form.
Hamr against rusted tal, Orodan felt as though he was a piece of steel being worked by a blacksmith. Nothing damaging in the slightest; rather the repeated clangs of impact rang through Bluefire Academy like that of a busy forge.
He could slow himself and moderate his own strength, but hindering his reflexive speed wasn’t sothing he could easily do. Naturally, each of the Capital Guardsman’s blows were like a slug crawling through the air.
That was a problem.
“I am not as good at this as you think. The speed advantage I possess is hindering my training,” Orodan revealed in-between his opponent’s strikes. “There is no pressure, no urgency.”
He recalled how Adeltaj had truly pressured and forged him during the very early loops. How Eternal Soul Reactor had co to be. This was good exploration of a concept, but not real training.
“Hmm… perhaps we can get so chronomancers…” Kalemar muttered, but Orodan simply shook his head.
“I have a better idea. Varadian Rockwood, allow to compress ti for you.”
The Warden did not seem to have much ego about him. The man hadn’t been offended at the insinuation that he was too slow for Orodan. Accordingly, curious receptiveness was the response.
His left hand extended upwards, Smite of Abrupt Deliverance roiling in it, the Ti Compression aspect flaring out and wrapping around the Warden.
It was a brutally powerful skill and Orodan had used it to fight well above his weight class many a ti. Not infallible when enemy chronomancers were present—or those who could influence ti through other ans—but here and now it had Varadian Rockwood moving a hundred-and-twenty tis faster.
The limit before he drew Administrator attention or caused damage to the man’s soul by excessively hastening it in ti.
“Incredible!” the Warden spoke, his voice nothing but an inaudible high-pitch frequency to anyone without enhanced hearing. “Never have I felt so swift! It is as though… ah, everyone else is practically frozen are they not?”
“They are. I am the only one quick enough to hear your words. Now co, Warden of the Guard, let us resu our exercise in earnest.”
And so they did.
His trainer’s attacks ca in incredibly quick. Not enough to truly push him still, but by and far an improvent.
The deciding difference now being that he had no leisure ti to perfectly calculate his moves. Varadian, at a hundred-and-twenty tis faster was just quick enough that the complete non-urgency of thought had finally vanished.
It forced Orodan to move by instinct and honed warrior reflexes rather than careful prediction. Sothing which was good, as the first rusted pauldron, although it blocked a blow, now disintegrated under the increased force and speed.
“One plate down, my lord. Although… this improved speed is a bit unfair for-”
“No. This is good training. I shall either fail, or the pressure will hone anew.”
Although with said pressure coming in many tis faster, it was a little hard not to fail.
But even in failure there could be success.
The hamring continued, and Orodan managed a good effort, but keeping the plates intact against the attacks of a Master-level combatant while using no other skill was harder than it seed. It hearkened back to the days where his sword and shield would almost imdiately disintegrate from th Varadian’s hamr shattered the final plate he wore, yet Orodan leaned right into the attack, angling the plate in such a way that the attack was sent backwards despite the armor breaking.
[New Skill → Armor Mastery 36]
[New Title → Armor Apprentice]
“Oh! You’ve acquired it!?” the Warden asked, excited. “On the first pass too… I see now why everyone speaks so highly of your martial prowess, my lord. I admit, seeing all these powerful mages has disheartened at tis. But when I see you, my martial spirit is roused once more.”
“What I am, I’ve achieved only because of those who’ve taught . And that includes you. Thank you, Warden Rockwood,” Orodan said as he released the Ti Compression and brought Is there anything I can do to repay this? I doubt I would have acquired the skill as quickly under anyone else’s tutelage.”
“A generous offer, my lord. In fact, your Vice-Director has already secured a spot under your tutelage during certain training blocks of yours. Even just the opportunity to train under your disciples will bring great gains,” Varadian explained.
“Tutelage and favors are quickly becoming the commodity of choice for trades now that we are all in a ti loop. And while Warden Varadian himself is a ti looper, the remainder of his house are not. His favor in teaching you this has earned them all a spot upon Lord Fenton Penny’s upcoming thousand-slot orb,” Kalemar explained as ti resud. “Ti?”
“Nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds sir,” an operative recited, his voice in awe as he looked at a tir. “A six-hundred and sixty-seven tis faster learning rate than Calledro’s Average.”
“Of course. Why am I not surprised that Alastaia’s greatest warrior confounds the average of so ancient scholar?” Kalemar remarked, leafing through his own notes and jotting things down. “Skill acquired, we now move onto phase two of the regin. Training at amplitude.”
Training at amplitude?
“I’ve heard of training atop mountainpeaks to improve Physical Fitness where the air grows thin, but not this.”
“That, World-King, would be because your training in amplitude has been deficient throughout your ti loops. It is unbelievable that a pure human would be so unfathomably powerful, but your existence is proof of it and has questioning everything I thought I knew,” General Vaelrosaan spoke. “Tell . That Draconic Fireball you learned, was that the only teaching passed down to you from the dragons?”
“I also have Draconic Mana Channeling,” he answered.
“And did it co with the mandatory lessons on counterbalancing your own mana pool, your physical prowess, your very being?”
Counterbalancing his own mana pool? His very being? He had not a clue what these things were and it must’ve showed for the half-dragon General rely sighed and deflated.
“Truly…! Those dragons of Alastaia have shirked in their duty. If I had a student such as you, you would not be allowed out of my sight for a singular mont! Such raw power allowed to develop without proper guidance at each step… the failure as a teacher…!”
The half-dragon turned red and looked as though he was about to explode with indignation at the thought of what had supposedly been done, or not taught to him, long ago.
“I am happy to learn, but I feel that I’ll need an explanation on half of these things you’re saying…” Orodan muttered.
“Then listen well. In your last loop, you destroyed multiple star systems by ans of a stray attack,” General Vaelrosaan spoke, bringing him imdiate guilt for what he’d done. “No. Do not look troubled. It is not only natural, but entirely impressive that you have not had more of these incidents given how powerful you are. This is no failure of yours, but a failure of the dragons who inhabit your world, a glaring oversight by your teachers. You are human, yes. But you are closer to a dragon than a man. Your breaths, your steps, they cause reality to shudder. And your actions tear apart the cosmos itself. This is no mistake, but a natural consequence of power equivalent to that of the dragon remaining within the body of a human. You, Orodan Wainwright, have trained and honed yourself among humans and humanity. All the records I read of these Administrators and cosmic powers speak of how many millions of years old they are. You on the other hand, are yet to have lived a thousand years. Not even a hatchling by the standards of my kind.”
“So my inexperience is the issue? Need I fight more battles then?”
“No! Well, battle is always good, but you have enough of that and will naturally accrue more as ti passes. You… lack education in how to operate at titanic scales of power. Your learning primarily cos from people like yourself or beings who do not share the sa propensity for near limitless power as you do,” Vaelrosaan explained. “Tell . The records compiled by the scholars of the alliance speak of your period without the System. During this ti, when you attempted grand-scale magics… did you fail?”
Orodan thought back to how even Teleportation had been difficult and how the distance of Spatial Fold had decreased and how control over ti had also worsened. He’d painstakingly trained all of these things back from the ground up, but even then it hadn’t been easy.
“Your face tells the answer. Then know this, no properly educated half-dragon or dragon would have faced the sa problems you did. Not just with skills they are intrinsically familiar with, but even with magic they are not so keen on which relies more on the System to function. This is because our very education, our culture and upbringing… it instils the respect and understanding of the great power we naturally possess. Sothing you have never in your loops received,” Vaelrosaan explained. “Your natural genius and hard work have allowed you to smooth over the problem with a tarp, but it is no true solution. Today, we shall begin the rectification of this grave error. You shall learn from other teachers, yes, but each skill shall also be accompanied by a corresponding half-dragon tutor. You shall be formally schooled in our ways. And in ti… perhaps this will even aid you in the Second Pass.”
The half-dragon was not wrong in that he had the habit of losing control and focus at extrely high scales of power. Thus far, brute force, his will and a dogged determination to succeed had carried him through. But how long could that continue?
It was not incorrect that all his magic tutelage had co from human mages and human academies. And even in cases where he’d learned from non-human tutors such as Talricto, the dinsional spider’s teaching thods were based on fine control and finesse.
It was clear enough to see that almost none of his teachers had any idea of how to operate at the scales he did.
But the half-dragons of Vylrystia did.
“Right. Lady Almyra and Lord Talricto were closely reviewing your actions near the final monts of the loop. Their notes on the matter are rather thorough in how you need better control,” Kalemar added. “Your training of Burst Casting with Lord Destartes was a good start, as has all your training until now. The alliance’s mages agree that you have good foundations developed through hard work. But the Vylrystian roosts of dragon mages believe this requires proper guidance.”
“Am I to train magic then? I thought I’d co here for training in armor,” Orodan asked.
“Ah, but the two are more interconnected than you think,” the half-dragon General of Vylrystia remarked. “For you see, the principles of armor can be applied to many things in your arsenal. Your shield, for one. Your Unassailable Fortress for another. And those defensive body enchantnts too. But mainly… this new True Soul Weave skill you have acquired. I believe it could synergize very well.”
And so, in full view of the foot traffic at Bluefire, Orodan began his training in earnest. The resources and experts of multiple worlds being funneled into him.
#
[True Soul Weave 28 → True Soul Weave 29]
[Armor Mastery 39 → Armor Mastery 40]
“Ti!” Kalemar called out as both Vaelrosaan and Varadian Rockwood moved away. “Well done, Mister Wainwright. Your rate of skill level gains continue to astound us. Truly, devoting the bulk of resources towards you was the right decision.
Orodan personally felt as though he could’ve stuck with that regin a bit longer, but the small army of experts and analytical specialists which had ford disagreed with that.
Yes. Even though it hadn’t started that way, during the course of the training session an entire division of monitoring staff, analyzers and experts had gathered in order to very closely docunt his training.
“I’m usually used to training sothing for longer stretches than this…” Orodan muttered.
“And while that would be well, it would be inefficient. We’ve noticed your average gains value was beginning to go down. Sothing which tends to be consistent over periods of ti greater than six hours. You are a mighty warrior, ser. But even one such as you will not learn as rapidly during the seventh hour as you will the first,” a spindly man from the Collective spoke, a singular monocle on his right eye. “By revolving the subject matter frequently, you will make more skill level gains overall.”
“And I must say, General Vaelrosaan and Warden Varadian outdid themselves… I did not think your True Soul Weave had such potential. It seems the suggestion put forth by the alliance think tank was on the mark,” Kalemar said.
“Think tank?”
“Ah, a gathering of the finest minds among us loopers. They regularly convene to review everything about you and then put forth possible suggestions and areas for improvent,” Kalemar explained. “Nothing which does not go through you of course. But today’s session and your tutors’ insistence that you try forming armor of your soul weave was one of those.”
And hadn’t that been a most difficult attempt?
Orodan had thought they would be working on Armor Mastery. That was supposed to have been the main point of this session. To see a half-dragon added on for ‘amplitude’ training was surprising, but not unexpected.
The suggestion to then use his True Soul Weave to form armor over himself in accordance with the principles of the skill he’d just learned? Now that had been sothing. And it had been extrely difficult.
Despite his intimate familiarity with the soul arts, getting True Soul Weave to act like armor was absurdly difficult. For starters, he’d developed the very foundations of the skill through working with the spider dragons of the Dokuhan Mountains and closely studying their silk. It was a weave designed to create permanent connections and transfer energy.
He used it to create his new ‘clones’ and essentially extend his soul outwards so that he was them and they were him. No different than a man moving his arm.
But to be asked to modify that True Soul Weave and use it as armor?
Absurdly difficult. It went against the very nature of the weave he’d already been specializing in.
And that was excellent training.
Vaelrosaan had not only asked him to form the soul weave over himself, but had then alternated and asked him to extend it over the entirety of Bluefire. And then Karilsgard. And then the Republic.
And it was partway into Novarria that his control at such a wide scale, despite his endless will and brute force, began to show weaknesses.
The half-dragon ordered him to stop and hold it there while other half-dragon instructors ca in and gave sermons on scale, control and the like.
Many levels gained in a six hour span without even looping. An excellent result.
“Rember, World-King, counterforce is the fundantal principle behind control at extre scales,” General Vaelrosaan said in parting as Orodan was guided towards a teleporter by Kalemar.
And it was a principle he would rember and continue to work upon as the loops passed. No more would he allow innocents to suffer the price of his power.
The training block had barely ended before Kalemar was ushering him into the next. Truly, this pace of training was fast and replete with benefits.
“You know, people argued that this would be too much, but you’re uniquely suited for this intense pace of regin are you not?” Kalemar asked as they stepped into the teleporter and arrived soplace tallic with not a hint of green anywhere in sight.
X2.
The world of his friend W78 and the Unity. Orodan had been here once before, a final stop before venturing into the hells. And it looked just as he rembered it then.
A planet made entirely of tal or synthetic material, with nothing organic besides them and a number of visitors from the alliance. But that did not an there was no life. Rather, despite being made of tal and a material Orodan had been told was called ‘plastic’, the planet was thrumming with animation.
The beings of X2 were not a singular species or model. There were slender and aesthetic-looking ones who crewed shops. Armored ones with long necks watching the streets as guard units, and swift flying ones functioning as delivery staff. The machine-beings walked the roads or flew above the streets, their fras lighting up with various colors of power and emotion. And they did many of the sa things anyone back ho in Ogdenborough might.
“Of all our alliance partners, I profess that these golems unnerve the most…” Kalemar quietly spoke.
“Do not be. In fact, they have a certain innocence to them which us beings of flesh and blood lack,” Orodan assuaged. “And they are not golems. Those have no soul. But these inorganic friends of our have access to the System and its skills and levels like anyone else does. I assure you, they have souls.”
The Vice-Director of the Intelligence Service looked a little comforted by those words and took in the sights with renewed interest as they walked. They arrived at a teleport module soon enough.
“This diplomatic unit D25 greets the honored visitors to World X2. Registering arrival of anomaly #9, designation: original ti looper; alternative designation: Orodan Wainwright,” the machine spoke pleasanty, the voice coming out similar to that of a human woman. “Proto-unit W78 awaits.”
Orodan had heard his friend referred to as such once or twice before. And he also recalled one of his conversations with the Boundless One empowering the System once. Where it transmitted to him, mories. mories of a tallic being whose kindness and friendship had caused the very chain of events which had led to the separating of the Eldritch Boundless from the wicked Boundless, and the sequestering of System space.
It seed he and his friend had much to speak about besides just training.
Soon enough they were guided into a strange teleporter.
Orodan’s eyes narrowed.
“This is dinsional.”
“Orodan Wainwright identifies teleporter nature correctly. Teleporter leads to Class 4 Restricted Site. Anomaly being allowed access as per override from Pri Combat Unit A1 and site caretaker, proto-unit W78,” the diplomatic unit spoke. “Site possesses… historic value.”
Historic value? A relic of the Unity’s ancient past then?
Kalemar however was beginning to look uneasy. The man’s actions seed unusually hesitant too.
“Pardon , Mister Wainwright. I find myself overco with an odd feeling of nerves… whatever is on the other side of that dinsional entryway must be of great significance to the Unity. Yet it’s odd how my mind is telling not to enter…”
Orodan didn’t quite feel any such thing. He knew that W78 had requested ahead of ti that only he and Kalemar enter this particular place, but why the Vice-Director would be afraid he did not know. By the look of it, it seed… entirely normal? A dinsional opening, that was all it was.
The diplomatic unit assigned to guide them looked as uninford about the matter as they did too.
“Restricted sites known to contain anomalous properties… or anomalies.”
Anomalies. It was how the unit had designated Orodan. What other things could be anomalies then?
He left the hesitant Kalemar behind as he stepped past the threshold.
Rust and decay.
The sensations hit him like a battering ram. The fact that they were upon a floating island in the midst of an entirely separate dinsion didn’t catch his notice the sa way those two things did.
Orodan had never set foot upon a cetery before, but perhaps this odd feeling was what grave robbers experienced when they did. He now identified what had Kalemar so uneasy.
The man stepped in behind him and looked even uneasier.
“I have the feeling that we aren’t ant to be here, Mister Wainwright. A foolish thing to say when Lord W78 invited us, but I cannot help but hold onto that feeling when we stand before this odd structure.”
Orodan had seen wooden guard towers, stone towers rising above a castle and even the mage towers of Thazrivin. But he had never quite seen a thin, see-through tal tower such as this. As though soone had erected the bare skeleton and fra of a building and left the inside completely hollow.
He could see devices and dishes at the top, possessed of an engineering skill well beyond that of even the Blackworth Collective. And within these devices, tiny cables and wires of tal. Not for the conducting of mana, but electricity.
Who knew re lightning could do so much?
This tallic skeleton of a tower was not sothing ant to house but to perform so manner of function. Perhaps it was a lightning rod? Orodan wasn’t sure. But it was connected to a building that was ant to house people.
The brick and mortar of the building seed ordinary enough, as did the windows. But what made it different from a building of the Blackworth Collective was the foreign fixtures and style, and the fact that the lights and odd displays were powered not by steam, but lightning. All channeled through those intricate and tiny cables.
But what truly stood out to him, was the fact that the building was completely and utterly worn down. The glass shattered, the gate broken down, the doors shredded. The aura of tragedy surrounded this place.
Sothing very terrible had happened here.
He could now understand why a mind mage like Kalemar had so imdiately felt unease. Especially when the man was a non-combatant and more sensitive to such things than the hardened Orodan.
His Vision of Purity told him that W78 was waiting inside, a few hallways in. So the two of them entered, careful to be respectful as they did.
It really was a tomb. An eerie one too.
This was no fort, nor was this a barracks or guard post. This had been a civilian building. Evident in how there were no fortifications against the foe outside. The soft chairs and luxurious seating also seed designed for comfort and extended work behind a desk rather than for interrogation or military purposes.
There were rooms full of papers too. And so which had a strange fuzzy implent hanging from the ceiling and a material lining the walls ant to control sound.
As they delicately traversed the halls it beca apparent that whoever this buildings occupants were, they hadn’t been the tallic beings of the Unity.
And they had suddenly vanished.
Containers full of a still warm beverage locked behind enchanted doors. Papers which still had old creases and fingerprints on them. And even a fallen hair whose position on a desk was furiously guarded by an overwhelmingly protective security system of barriers.
This was not just a tomb, but so attempt to preserve heritage. mories.
The Unity’s patchwork and technology was but a layer of preservation over the important parts which the caretaker did not want to lose at all.
What was this place?
“Observation: subject curious about nature of restricted site. Information: Site designation - National Radio. Estimated chronological age… billions of years old. Proto-unit W78 welcos ti looper to a place older than the System. A site of… sentintal significance for this proto-unit.”
So it was true. W78 truly had been one of the earliest beings in the System.
But none of it made sense!
His friend was still a Transcendent. Not even a leading figure of the Unity! How could it be so old? Where had it co from?
Why was this place so important and treated like a precious mausoleum?
“I can see that. The chronomantic stasis you’ve placed many of the rooms under is of a very high-level. Expensive too… it would require a large amount of a world core’s power to sustain it,” Orodan remarked.
“Unit X2 is… partial to this proto-unit’s preferences,” W78 intoned, its speech taking on a more natural manner. “Unit rembers. Rembers things from a ti before we were nothing but tal and polyr. A ti where our creators made us for the purpose of helping them and defending them. Yet in the process… lived with us.”
“Your creators?”
“Humans. The humans of the old world. Long, long ago,” W78 answered. “This unit did not co to be composed of tal and polyr on its own. Proto-unit was originally ant to help with… broadcasting.”
The question of why these rooms were so imaculately preserved was then answered. Why wouldn’t it be? The very humans it had worked alongside had lived, breathed and worked here. Orodan wanted to ask the question of what had happened, but that was evident enough.
The glass was shattered. The gate bent and its tal warped as though so anomalous force had gotten to it. And the doors shredded in a way few things could do. But most oddly…
…there were no signs of conflict inside.
Cups and ceramic tankards were on the tables, still warm through chronomantic preservation. Books, papers all half-open to particular pages. The writing implents dropped as though soone had been holding them monts prior.
But there were no inhabitants. None of the old ones.
Only Orodan, Kalemar and W78.
And the Vice-Director looked increasingly agitated by the mont.
“Mister Wainwright… I… do not think I should remain here. Sothing feels very wrong.”
“Information: residual warning from subject’s mind causing heightened alert system. Phenonon - sixth sense. Amplified for mind mages. Amplified for humans when around unseen predators.”
Sothing had co and done very horrific things to the now long-gone residents of this building. In a manner that was not physical.
And Orodan had only one question.
“How?”
“They transmitted ssages of hope and kindness to the stars… the wrong thing answered.”
“But there are no signs of a struggle here. What caused this?”
“Subject touches upon aspect of tics and reality-alteration. Proto-unit will endeavor to teach, as agreed.”
And so the three of them entered a room full of beeping lights, dials and wheels. So sort of master room from where sound could be directed. And with plenty of glass screens using the lightning to emit a display as well.
“Mist- Orodan… I cannot be here. I cannot! This is…!”
W78 gestured, and two drones ca along, pulling the man into a dinsional opening conjured between the two of them. A bit forceful… but if Kalemar had been that rattled, then the tallic caretaker was simply doing what the man wanted anyways. Better he remain outside than cause an incident which lead to things being damaged.
For a while, W78 simply remained silent as it kept flicking dials or interacting with knobs. It was certainly unique in that he’d never really seen the machine-being physically handle things in that manner. The interface didn’t look like it was made to allow easy handling by the caretaker. For a human, yes, but for it, no.
But, whether out of respect for the sanctity of this place, or because the systems were too complicated, the Unity had left things as they were.
“What did this?”
“Information: entity capable of traveling through words and diums for information. Radio, television screens, newspapers… dangerous thing. Our creators fell soon after. We were… more resilient by nature. System arrived then and separated us from our original world.”
“Like Xia then? He and many of his cultivator brethren were also pulled into System space at the very start of it all. Have you ever tried bringing them back?” Orodan asked.
“Odds of success: zero. Tiline of System space not connected to tiline of the greater universe. Many things, lurking and deadly things dwell in river of ti outside System space. Unsafe. Dangerous.”
That was answer enough.
Though Orodan still found himself making a ntal note to look into the matter once his grand ambition was done.
“I had not realized I was in a tomb. Then… to pay respects to its forr inhabitants, let us learn the ways of those things which ended them, shall we?”
tic Hazard Mastery.
It was an interesting skill to acquire, and Orodan fully intended to train it up as far as he could. Though what that disturbing visage of a pale face with an eerie and far-too-wide smile alongside hollow eyes had to do with it was up in the air.
If his training would involve beholding such things, then he would do so gladly.
For the days before the invasion of Narictus were few, and he had more limits to test.
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