《Remark Of Ruin [Weak To Strong Trippy Prog Fantasy] (BOOK 1 COMPLETE)》


 Remark Of Ruin Chapter 1: Everything Explained.

    Within the scattered streets of Gutworth in a tiny one-room apartment laid a woman. She was enduring the screams of propaganda and trying to get her shit together to leave bed for a job she hated.


    "The Grand Council gave us Remarks to express ourselves in ways our tongues cannot!¡± So said the teeth pierced speakers, strung up on wires strangled to organ draped poles.


    ¡°To dance with Death is to live. Our Remarks kill those who don¡¯t know the steps, darlings,¡± the posh voice said, echoing off the dusty streets and sealed windows. Clay houses awkwardly shoved next to half sunken concrete buildings were equal in their inability to insulate. A motley crowd seeped out from every opening, uniformly miserable and all cupping their ears.


    ¡°A strong person has a strong Remark. So of course Morgan Lemure is the strongest of us all.¡±


    Repeated for years, the morning chant was only useful as an alarm clock.


    Getting up with practiced sluggishness, the woman took in her form from the mirrored walls (which was an architectural choice most apartments shared, only a few newer buildings did without it, nothing in her price range). She didn¡¯t like to be reminded of her body. To wit, her limbs felt undersized and scrawny, as if she deserved something far more substantial. She had eyes too big for her face, and a mouth that was slightly crooked, favoring her left side. She rubbed a hand through her hair. Strangely itchy. Her head was topped off by messy black hair outside of two purple strands that hung down beside each ear, contouring her face; one of the only habits she maintained was keeping it trim. She had let her hair grow out in her previous body. But in her current one, long hair just didn''t feel right. Her name was Devon Near. She would eventually destroy existence, but at the moment she was checking her hair for lice.


    (Short hair also made it easier to confirm, no lice or bugs of any sort!)


    Her skin was brown, the color of the polished wood on her father''s boat. She had to sell that boat when her father was killed by a lackey of the man who now ruled.


    "Morgan Lemure." She said his name. Most were afraid to say it. Nine years ago they had thrown away their autonomy in favor of a despot. She was only ten then but understood how much had been lost.


    "Morgan-"


    There was a rough knock on the right wall. She was being too loud. Or perhaps merely stating the name of their dictator had been made illegal. With a sigh, she got around to getting up, her mind racing with thoughts of murder she had no hope in carrying out.


    Quickly she opened her small drawer and pulled out a bag of muddy clay. She half bounced the bag on the palm of her hand. It was a good heft. They wouldn¡¯t laugh in her face this time. She had actually succeeded in harvesting a quality batch of dream dust.


    ¡±There will be tryouts today to join Lemure¡¯s Legacy,¡± the voice of Gutworth¡¯s mayor proudly proclaimed, but there were always tryouts. Backstabbing was encouraged, and people were desperate to rise through the ranks. The ¡°legacy¡±, or Numbers as they were called, were cruel townies on a never ending power trip. His numbers wore armor based on his own, with gaudy capes and dozens of badges. They were all stupid, worthless, meanspirited assholes who loved to push their weight around.


    And today she would be passing off drugs to two of the cruelest.


    ¡°Morgan Lemure reminds you all that dueling is egalitarian. If you believe yourself to be the true ruler of Gutworth, he will be happy to duel you and put that to the test.¡±


    Perhaps today, Morgan Lemure would visit the terrible diner where she worked. Stranger things had happened; his elite guard, the Constants, had eaten there more than once. Perhaps, if she were asked to grill him some food she''d put some poison in it. The kind that worked slow. That was what he deserved, she thought¡ªan awful death for an awful man.


    The thought of killing him was her only real motivation. She put on one of the seven pairs of blue and yellow track jackets and jeans she had, not letting her pathetic image in the mirror deter her. Closing the door and locking it behind her, she ignored the loud buzzing of insects four doors down and the muffled sounds of an argument above as she trudged to work.


    The streets of Gutworth were not streets so much as they were dunes that buildings had happened to sink into. All of them were packed tightly together like coffins. In some of the lanes closest to the port the hot red sand had been smoothed down, easy enough to walk on. Not so in the outskirts, where height could differ by as much as fifty feet. Devon had to deal with the worst of it on her commute. Her shoes sunk into the sand, again and again. The constant smell of burnt rubber lingered in the air. Through the smell had no source, it was always present.


    The suggestion of a sky peeked in through the mountains that fought for space high above her. Closer but still miles away was the giant wall that circled all she¡¯d ever known. A reflective blue tinged surface, heavily sketched with scratches. Though Devon couldn¡¯t know if others thought the same, it felt as if they were in the middle of a massive hollow drum. Like a crate, or a barrel, but built on the scale of an ocean. She had never been outside it.


    ¡°Devon!¡±


    Her neck hairs bristled as footsteps approached. Suddenly paranoid, she patted the bag of dream dust in her pocket as someone came closer.


    ¡±Where have you been? We barely see you anymore,¡± she didn¡¯t recognize the voice. Someone else behind her chuckled. She kept walking forward, hoping they¡¯d assume she was deaf.


    ¡±Are you sure that''s him? I¡¯m pretty sure that''s a chick.¡± She stopped and gripped her thigh, suddenly very scared. It was a nervous tic carried over from her first body.


    ¡°Nah it¡¯s him, even if it doesn¡¯t look it. Idiot tried to off himself in the Shifting Waters. He just got boobs instead.¡±


    Not bad boobs, she thought to herself, allowing a smile. What they said was worded crudely, but not wrong. She had jumped into the Shifting Waters assuming it would kill her, as it often did. But instead she emerged in flesh that suited her, that made life slightly more tolerable.


    If she could do it over she never would have given her name. Who would have known, right? And yet when the fishermen had asked, obviously a little wary, if she was that poor little orphan boy who had gone missing. She, like a dope, had said yes.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Grand, I heard about that,¡± said the second voice, a bit slow on the uptake. She had narrowed the first voice down to a neighborhood kid that hadn¡¯t been killed or left town yet, someone who remembered her far better than she did him. Maybe the kid who had left her death threats. She had gotten them for a good month before they stopped as suddenly as they had began.


    Letting go of her leg she turned to face them. She arched her left foot and kept it firm, creating a trail in the sand as she pivoted with the other. This, hopefully, came off as badass and intimidating.


    There were three of them, their leader a guy with a prominent cowlick. He wore a trendy magenta to yellow gradient covered in symbols from the Great Deluge. ¡°And there he is. Whose body you got there, Devon? Who¡¯s the corpse you¡¯re prancing around in?¡±


    She didn¡¯t know. More than that she didn¡¯t want to believe that this body had belonged to someone else. The Shifting Waters was not an exact science, its process was as mysterious as it was unpredictable. Everyone knew it sometimes changed those who fell in, but other times it simply didn¡¯t. For her the Shifting Waters had been kind, Grand knew why. And yet¡­ every night she went to bed, she knew something was still missing, but she always fell asleep before she could pinpoint what.


    ¡±Looks like she- I mean, he doesn¡¯t want to answer,¡± said one to the left of Cowlick, looking stricken over almost gendering her correctly. She was mean mugging the three and trying to look as dangerous as her toothpick arms allowed. Suddenly, she remembered who Cowlick was. What luck, he was one of the few people she had leverage over.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re Norman.¡± she said. ¡°I kicked your ass, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    It was years ago, when her father¡¯s death was still recent. Cowlick, real name Norman Certain, mocked her. He said his daddy told him that her daddy deserved it. He said people like her daddy deserved to die, because if they didn¡¯t they¡¯d never have been weak enough to die in the first place. She kicked him, punched him, bit him, made him cry, all without summoning her Remark.


    The idea of Devon kicking ass was ridiculous enough to be a joke in itself, but she really did fuck him up. They were both kids, and when you¡¯re a kid your power is directly proportional to how angry you currently are. And kid Devon was fucking livid.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you still have a scar from that.¡± She pointed at his nose, where there was a faint divot. ¡°Yeah¡­ that part never fully healed. Shame the rest did.¡±


    ¡±Piece of shit!¡± Norman ran at her and Devon took off laughing.


    She didn¡¯t get far. Something snagged her ankle and she hit the dirt hard. With a confused groan she turned over to see a coiled rope with eyes tied around her leg.


    Her scream cued laughter. Norman and his lamentable goons slouched forward with glee. Holding the other end, the man to Norman¡¯s left looked down at the rope and it suddenly vanished. So that was his Remark.


    ¡±Devon Near, I challenge you to a duel to defend my honor. I have two seconds here that won¡¯t hesitate to kill you if you try to run again.¡± They both nodded in unison, treasuring being second fiddle. ¡°This will be non lethal, so don¡¯t throw your life away when you can leave with only a few bruises.¡±


    She spat on the ground and got to her feet. All five foot four of her stared up at his snot nosed face. She was pissed. At this rate, she was gonna miss her shift and her drug deal.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take your silence as acceptance,¡± he said.


    ¡°You can take it however you want.¡± Among the morning commuters and street vendors, attention was being thrown their way. Duels were always interesting, even if the competitors were absolute nobodies.


    He summoned his Remark. Even after seeing the process hundreds of times, it still made Devon¡¯s blood go cold to see it happen. It always felt impossible, the way the weapon would appear from nothing, full formed, and readily leap into its owners waiting grasp.


    Norman¡¯s was a mostly flat bludgeon with a hole in the shape of a skull at the larger end. It looked more suited to playing ball games than dueling, but most Remarks were strange. They always fit the person, and the jokey sort of ego this one suggested fit him.


    ¡°Alright Devon, lets see yours.¡±


    Devon did nothing.


    ¡°Well Devon, I know you have a Remark. I¡¯ve seen it before. Yours is like¡­ its a dead fish isn¡¯t it?¡±


    One of Norman¡¯s goons laughed. He tried to steady himself with a hand on Norman, who swatted him away with his Remark.


    ¡±That wasn¡¯t a joke, her Remark is a dead fucking fish.¡± He turned away from her to the crowd now, most watching in earnest. ¡°She¡¯s unsightly and disgusting, so is her Remark.¡± Devon wanted to give him props for gendering her correctly, but was more concerned with bumrushing him when his back was turned. The crowd let out a collective gasp when she collided.


    She wasn¡¯t able to get him to the ground, but she did headbut him in the torso. Kneeled over in pain, she grabbed a metal bucket filled with crawlcow feed from a passing farmer and hit him upside the head with it. She would have continued but the weight was more than she expected, and she fell with the bucket, having to catch her breath. Norman was on the ground in no condition to keep fighting, his Remark unsummoned. He stared profoundly at Devon, seeming unable to comprehend that his record against her was now 0-2.


    The crowd applauded politely, appreciating the novelty of her forgoing her Remark. Even if she knew from experience that most were disappointed she hadn¡¯t used it.


    Her heart felt like it was gonna burst. Physical exercise, the exertion of it, she felt it too rarely. The exhaustion though, that was familiar. She took a second to sit, let her body relax, and closed her eyes, as if waiting for something.


    ¡°Make way, get inside! No one is safe!¡±


    She opened her eyes to see a platoon of Lemure¡¯s Legacy members marching towards her. They all wore masks of the fabled Deluge Wyrm as a cowl around their head, their faces covered by black cloth that represented the creature¡¯s cavernous mouth. The one at the front pointed a gloved finger at her. ¡°I¡¯d suggest locking your doors tonight ma¡¯am.¡± The soldier said.


    ¡±W-why? Has there been an attack?¡± Norman asked behind her, his hatred towards her forgotten.


    ¡°An attack? An attack?¡± The Legacy Member cackled. ¡°It was no attack, it was a slaughter. A stranger by the name of Adam killed four of our numbers. I saw it myself. I¡¯ve never seen such ferocity, such cruelty, and with a Remark that didn¡¯t look fit to cut cheese! We¡¯re spreading the word, take it to heart.¡± Devon couldn¡¯t help but notice the strange glee the member had as she recounted it. It seemed unfitting.


    Devon got to her feet and scooted past, feeling surprisingly light, considering the circumstances. Sure there was a killer out there, but anyone who killed legacy members couldn¡¯t be all bad. Plus, she had just avoided losing a duel. As rarely as she was challenged to a duel, even rarer had she won. She deserved to be, if not happy, at least not miserable.


    The restaurant she worked at was at the edge of town, in the direction the killer was supposedly coming from. She weighed the risk of dying, and decided with a shrug to keep walking to work. Whatever or whoever was coming, it would certainly be interesting. Interesting was worth dying for.

 Chapter 2: The Introduction and Exit of One Jerome Fodder

    When Jerome Fodder, Lemure 16, was just a child, he saw a man putting up a sign. The man was quite nervous as he did this, looking left and right as he did so, flinching every time someone walked past.


    Jerome didn¡¯t know why the man was so paranoid. He asked a member of Lemure¡¯s Legacy who happened to be nearby, a shockingly tall woman lacking a left arm. Behind her mask, the woman¡¯s expression was unknowable. Then she produced her Remark, a golden arm twice as big as her organic one, and killed the man with a single slash. The blood made the poster illegible, and Jerome never learned what was on it or what it meant. From that moment, he understood this world and knew what side was right.


    After earning entry by killing his brother, he moved quickly up the ranks of Lemure¡¯s Legacy. A willingness to backstab others was one of the most prized traits in the Legacy. He bloodied his hands daily and left opponents with wounds that couldn''t heal. Entering as Lemure 2, with each death above him, his Number rose, and with it rose his strength: power begat status, and vice versa.


    One could consider him a lieutenant at his peak, reaching the rank of Lemure 16. Someone confident, dependable, and on track to transcend the Numbers entirely, becoming part of Morgan¡¯s inner circle, The Constants.


    But even lieutenants get stuck with the shit positions.


    The floatrat circled the flickering lamppost. It had done this long enough to become a nuisance. Jerome Fodder had had enough.


    They had been stationed at the Sliver Bridge for two days, free to do what they pleased with any travelers who tried to cross. None of them expected to see strangers on such a rarely traveled route. Since their arrival, a floatrat this far out from Gutworth was the first thing of note to occur.


    The novelty had become a distraction. Jerome''s inferiors preferred watching the lazy circles of the overgrown insect far more than they did the bridge. He nudged Tremble, the only one focused on the bridge and not the bug. "Get rid of that."


    She summoned her Remark. It birthed itself from nothing and screamed into her grip. A sensible shortsword that rippled like water.


    He grimaced, annoyed at the showboating. "No need for that, just use this." He tossed her a piece of title he had scratched out from the floor.


    Her throw was eager but off-target, whizzing right past the lamp and only succeeding in getting the other''s attention. They joined in. Many of the rocks missed the target and landed in the rapids below.


    Lemure 3, their newest member, came the closest. Unfortunately, he hit the flame of the lamppost straight on. Without the lamppost''s flame, the only light was provided piecemeal from the sky far above. Obscured by collages of rock and mountain peaks, it filtered down as small cracks of radiance that drifted along the floor.


    "Oh, good going, 3," Tremble said. Despite the poor lighting, Jerome could easily recognize 3 by his small stature and awkward gait. The man was anxiety personified.


    3 conveyed bewilderment (impressive considering the mask he wore). He looked around in a confused daze, "What? But I did it, didn''t I?"


    "You got rid of the floatrat, yes," Jerome said, leaning against a broken pillar. "But I never told you to turn off the light!" He preferred the erratic flickering of the lampost to this bland darkness. "Now I can''t read any of your veins.¡±


    "Our Superior is right," 8 said in an awkward falsetto. "Let''s make it clear now, I''m Lemure 12."


    ¡±Hey, wait a minute, no, you¡¯re not!¡± Tremble said, protective of her relatively meager ranking. ¡°16! Make her stop! 16!¡±


    "I can recognize 12 by voice, 8, as I can yours. Come off it," Jerome said, knowing exactly how the next few minutes would go. He was in charge of four of them all together. 3, 5, 8, and 12. Of them, 12 was the only one he had any hope for. The others would probably die by the end of the season. There were many reserves happy to take their place.


    Jerome took out his spyglass, which possessed its own internal lighting, and looked through it to the end of the bridge.


    The spyglass inverted the world''s color as he gazed at the bridge, turning green to purple. With its supports and spindly shape, the bridge resembled a giant snake with monstrous limbs drifting off into a purple nothingness, the edges glowing a faint orange.


    After a quarter mile of random twists and turns that no competent bridge maker would have designed, it ended, or more accurately, shifted into a large mountain wall. A tiny crack in the wall, the sliver, was where strangers appeared as if birthed. The few times one did appear, they were easily herded into the city or killed if they weren''t worth keeping.


    It wasn''t just humans who appeared. There were Aberrations, Runner-Ups, and creatures that had no name but were still separate from men: terrible things, all of them. Fit only to die.


    There were many cracks in the dark red mountains, but this was the only one with a habit of creating strangers. Perhaps because it was no mountain at all.


    The surface was too smooth, and the color was a strange white that, even under centuries of grime, was only artifice (the same shade as the bridge, come to think). The top of it bizarrely jutted out toward the bridge, creating a pseudo roof. The bridge and wall the same structure, what remained of a massive chamber. An artifact from before the Great Deluge, though why it was here of all places he couldn¡¯t fathom. Thinking those things wasn¡¯t the forte of a Lemure.


    Next to the outline of what seemed to be a door, a stranger emerged from the sliver. It was a welcome distraction from such pointless ruminations. They were Human from the proportions. Thankfully as different from Jerome as they come.


    It was challenging to discern gender from such a distance. They were so tall they had to stoop to leave the crack, with black hair shaved off on one side that hung limp from the other. It looked like it had been washed in rain and had dried all wrong. They were unarmed, wearing a black shawl above their waist and white wraps that covered their lower third. Remarkably skinny. Remarkably pale, too. Lips and extremities a light shade of gray.


    No one else noticed them; they were still arguing over who was who. With a cough, Jerome snapped his fingers. They got into formation, a diamond shape behind him. Remarkably, they refused to drop the identities argument until the stranger was in shouting distance.


    "State your reason for passage!" Jerome yelled, the others now behind him in the standard diamond formation. He waited until now to summon his Remark; it always worked in asserting his authority. It was a hefty metal rod with a face he didn¡¯t recognize at the end. He swore that every time he summoned it the face was different, but no one else cared or noticed.


    The stranger glanced at it with what seemed to be confusion. His stride across the Sliver Bridge slowed to a crawl.


    "I''ll be starting with a name if that''s alright." The man, for he was a man, said. "You''re the first people I''ve seen in quite some time."


    His earnest smile disgusted Jerome. Show some damned self respect, he thought.


    "Names? Why bother? We won''t be seeing you again." Jerome said.


    "Names are sacred," 3 added, unnecessarily. There was some personal obsession he had with nom de plumes that Jerome and the others tolerated at best. "Be careful who you share yours with."


    The stranger held up his hands and continued forward, moving sideways to avoid the waters below. The erosion over time had withered away portions of the floor to small splinters, which made guard duty all the easier; with luck, the stranger would fall in.


    "As my assistant, Petrov was saying," Jerome said, chewing on the lower Number''s name. "Names aren''t necessary; we only have one- woah there!"


    Completely ignoring Jerome''s significant authority, the man audaciously pushed past him. The lower numbers were no help; none of them selflessly sacrificed themselves by tackling the stranger and sending them both into the sea (the correct procedure in this sort of scenario). Jerome jumped onto a half-collapsed wall to the stranger''s left and intercepted him at a point as narrow as the man''s stride. "Now that isn''t very considerate."


    "What is there to consider? I arrived. Now I''m departing."


    "You know you''ll need permission for that," Tremble said in a sing-song voice, wagging her Remark.


    "Just a simple question, then you''re free to go." Jerome looked at his men. Who to pick, who to pick. ¡°Petrov! Ask the man for Grand sake."


    The lowest Number shuffled forward, his head hanging down to Jerome''s side. "You know I haven''t done this before," Petrov whispered, scratching nervously at the pulsing three on his neck.


    "You pledge daily in private. It should be no issue to ask another." He patted Petrov to make the rough push that followed all the more meaningful. For his part the stranger waited patiently. He seemed bemused by the whole situation.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    After recovering from the push, 3 spoke. "When you are in the territory of Gutworth, do you promise to uphold a pledge to Morgan Lemure, champion of the Deluge, slayer of the fifth to last Deluge Wyrm, and lay down your life in a duel if Morgan or one of his Legacy commands it?"


    An adequate job. The pauses were awkward and unconvincing, but it could be forgiven considering the situation. Now, all he had to do was wait for the stranger to accept and give away the luxury of his mortal security. A small price to pay for the moral security one gained while under such an oath.


    The stranger looked off to the side as if lost in thought. "I do not agree to something so predatory."


    "Why not? It''s just common sense. This is Lemure''s domain; all we ask is a verbal acknowledgment." Jerome leaned in, breathing heavily. "We''ll kill you where you stand if you don''t."


    The stranger smiled sadly and patted him on the shoulder. The others gasped.


    Jerome was not worried. This bravado was all a bluff. Jerome¡¯s Trick had been locked on the stranger since his appearance, and the eyes on the face of his Remark remained a dull gray, the default state. This man was less of a threat than even Petrov!


    "Well then," the stranger said. His breath was rancid. Jerome could smell it even through the mask. Like death, like death. "It seems we''re at an impasse."


    He moved his hand, so pale, so cold, down slowly to Jerome''s breast pocket.


    Below, the water picked up speed. The tile Jerome stood on was suddenly less stable. Only the sudden movement of the stranger''s hands to his pocket could explain the change. Jerome called his bluff and pushed him away. The stranger fell on his back, well-practiced, catching himself with his arms and landing on all fours. Cocking his legs, he jumped up from this position and held his empty hands up to each side. They all noticed the absence of a Remark. Strange, perhaps it was too weak for him to show. It would make the violence to follow more straightforward.


    "I will only repeat what my lesser here has said," Jerome said. The words were pointed and harsh for 3''s benefit. "Renounce any assumption that you have rights while in Lemure''s domain. You are no better than a vassal within our borders and have no authority unless given it."


    The stranger, paying no mind to the Remarks, shrugged. "I can''t do that. I made a promise that I cannot break.¡±


    "Who gives a shit? Go back the way you came and stop wasting our time!¡± Despite Jerome¡¯s commanding tone, the man did not budge.


    Alright.


    Jerome cleared his throat. "I shall read to you from the scriptures." Words appeared in his eyes that only he could see; all he had to do was think of Morgan Lemure and his greatness for a unique passage to appear. It was as new to him as it would be for the stranger. It was beautiful, infinite words of infinite wisdom provided by the floaters in his vitreous.


    His thought was ''origin.'', and this is what appeared.


    "In the time of the Great Deluge, when the Remark was merely a suggestion and not the means to our end, Morgan Lemure took it upon himself to exercise that power. And exercise he did. Once a small nation of people had fallen to his Remark, the war for legitimacy came calling. Now known as the Great Deluge, contemporarily it was known as the Announcement. For what better name for a struggle that made clear the current order? Lemure knew that to define himself through violence, one must sacrifice the security of certainty. But unlike others, Lemure did more than sacrifice. He-"


    The reading was interrupted by the untrimmed stranger reaching for Jerome¡¯s Remark. Letting out a yelp, Jerome stumbled backward, flailing in a wild fury till he hit what remained of a wall.


    For shame. This stranger was bringing out the worst in them. He caught his breath while the stranger observed. The man was oddly sheepish despite the sudden movement. "I implore you to leave at once," Jerome said. "You are already marked by Her hands, do you think this is a good time to tempt Her?" He was referring to Death Herself, who we all know is a woman and a very fine one at that.


    The silence that followed was refreshing. But it didn¡¯t make the inevitable response any more bearable.


    The stranger''s manner sobered up suddenly. ¡°Oh¡­ I am marked, so utterly marked.¡± Jerome missed the drunken stranger of before. "She''s left marks all over me." He then took something out from his overcoat: a small piece of glass. What Jerome mistook for rust was hundreds of cuts and scars on its gray surface. The man kept the weapon close to his chest as if to strike at any moment. Was this his Remark? He seemed to be displaying it, treating it like a prized heirloom or an urn.


    What nonsense! The only thing clear was that the man had a death wish. "We can have a duel at any time now, stranger." He hit the back of his own head once, and the words flickered before fading from view. ¡°But you¡¯ve gotta be the one to set it. What¡¯ll it be, huh?!?¡±


    The stranger sighed and rolled his ponderous shoulders. "What you represent is vile and cruel to me. If the only way I can adequately express that is by killing you, so be it."


    Covering his face with splayed fingers, he held out his weapon and pointed it at Jerome. He was wielding it like a Remark, but it had no telltale signs of one. Jerome glanced down on his own. Every Remark had a Trick, his sensed hostility and displayed it through hue. Perhaps this stranger¡¯s trick was to disguise his Remark as a simple shard of glass? No matter. He had killed here before and he would kill again.


    Once, when Jerome was a lower number and had been sent ahead first, he saw a man come out of the crack who looked exactly like him, except naked of any uniform. The thing was identical to him down to the warts. He had Jerome''s short limbs, large stomach, and bulging eyes. To see the flaws in his features laid out so plainly... he killed the man quickly before anyone else saw him, and dumped his body into the water.


    He gave that creature the luxury of a quick and painless death. The Stranger would not be so lucky.


    A reminder. He was Lemure 16, and he brandished his Remark joyfully in the newer style; his pride expressed in jerky angles and complex footwork. "To show my gratitude for Lemure''s name, I shall kill you through skewering. From stomach to groin, just as he did the Deluge Wyrm!" The others laughed at this. "I won¡¯t even take your cloak as a trophy. You won''t be worth the memory," that last comment was a lie; the cloak was a fine work of craftsmanship, and he would be a fool to leave it on the corpse.


    The stranger approached, and on reflex, Jerome glanced at his Remark for that tell-tale change. There was none. The eyes stayed a sickly gray. Unprecedented. Bloody unprecedented.


    "I don''t understand."


    "Nothing to understand. We''re dueling." The man threw off his shawl to reveal rudimentary but durable combat armor complete with wrist wraps, all in a deep purple. And then he lunged.


    He didn''t attack; he simply harassed, making fake out motions and shoulder shoves to put Jerome on the defensive. He could do no more than guard weakly, and deny the stranger an opening. His subordinates watched, disturbed. No one had the chance to commence the duel officially, all the pomp and circumstances had drowned in the river. Not that this stranger deserved any of the rites. Let Death take him with claws.


    The stranger said nothing as he thrust his Remark (was it even a remark?) forward repeatedly. Always a threat worth dodging, but never close enough to parry. Jerome was in lockstep with his opponent, round and round in a circle that now governed the space of the duel. It was a dance with no set end. They could do this forever if they chose. According to his Remark there was no danger, and he could stab this man where he stood without worrying about any resistance. Yet why would his heart not stop beating so relentlessly? Why did it feel the only safe move was to stall?


    Jerome couldn''t take it anymore. He didn''t care if it was a trap, a tactical error. He wanted to progress. To move on. Losing was better than this eternity of stathis.


    With a pained yelp, he thrust his Remark directly at the stranger-


    -Who dodged the clumsy attack with ease, and caught Jerome under the armpit, steadying him in a manner gentle but controlling. It saved the Lemure man the indignity of falling, but at the expense of the shame he felt at the strangers firm grip. The moment of failure hung in the air as the stranger smiled. The color of Jerome¡¯s Remark shifted rapidly to a burning red. His stomach sunk in on itself. The face¡¯s expression twisted into a smile.


    The Stranger''s Remark, dull and unassuming, went straight for 16''s open throat.


    It was done.


    Neck was severed, the head fell off.


    A blade as battered as his couldn''t have cut through a floatrat''s hide, yet it cut through bone without difficulty. The stranger''s weapon was a Remark, an exceptionally clever one, at that. Whatever the trick, a complex one. It could both deceive and dismember. Jerome died with that thought on loop. A mystery he would never solve.


    . . .


    The others could only watch as the head of their leader rolled lazily off the side of the bridge. None of them liked Lemure 16, known only to himself as Jerome, but to see him decapitated like that. Well¡­


    One of their numbers, Lemure 13, Tremble to herself, who only seconds before was ranked 12, bolted past the stranger and hid. No one questioned this, or even noticed, they were still taking in the scene. Once they had spent exactly thirty five seconds gawking, they rushed at the stranger. He was walking away from them in no hurry.


    "You Wyrm fucker, you¡¯re so- GRRK!"


    8 was killed first. The stranger used his opponent''s swiftness to push her back into the range of 3, the low Number moving slowly but swinging wildly. The swings sliced 8 into ribbons. While 3 was comprehending his accidental murder, 5 was stabbed once in the heart and fell to the ground dead.


    Turning to 3, the stranger''s eyes lacked the malice that had only just animated him. He seemed very tired, barely able to stand. It was as if the sudden violence he had committed was nothing more than a fluke. The stranger motioned in the other direction, back through the sliver. 3 took off his mask and ran in the direction the stranger came. His tiny body fit the crack perfectly.


    . . .


    Hiding behind a pillar, the bio-enhanced veins on Tremble''s neck shifted painfully to a 13. Jerome had died, so naturally, she benefited with a promotion, but it was cold comfort when her own life was still at risk.


    Rushing him was suicide. As Lemure''s Legacy, they had a duty to survive. Hiding wasn''t cowardly; it was practical. Once the last of her compatriots fell silent, she allowed herself the luxury of breathing. She had not seen the fight; to see it would make her guilty, but the screams and sound of metal disconnecting flesh made it feel like she had.


    Soft footsteps now, getting closer. She probably shouldn''t have hidden further along the path. What was she thinking??


    A tap on the shoulder, and 13 was face to face with the man who had killed four of her compatriots. He was covered in blood.


    "Hey," he said, holding out empty hands. "I''m going to leave now. I have nothing against you."


    "Sure... okay," 13 said.


    A pause. The man turned away from her to look back at carnage she had yet to see. When he turned again, he turned back slow.


    "I''m Adam Kadmon, by the way," he said to her, "could you perhaps help me dump the bodies?"


    . . .

 Chapter 3: Allusions To Certain Doom

    Tremble fell to her knees and clutched the strangers ankle like a prized possession. She could have licked his boot, but it seemed too soon and too obvious. She stuck to basic groveling.


    ¡±I pledge my loyalty to you, for your Remark has proven sharper than those I¡¯ve foolishly followed. Your words will shape my soul and your convictions shall be the blueprint of all my actions.¡± She cupped her hands to her mask and removed it, revealing the sunken features and dark eye circles that made her face look like another mask.


    She stared up at Adam, this frightening killer, and prayed to Morgan that he would accept her complete and total submission.


    Adam coughed once, rubbed his legs, and refused to make eye contact. The would be conqueror of nations turned to either side as if he had lost something. ¡±Thanks for the help¡±. He gestured to the rapids, where the bodies had been dumped.


    Bizarrely, he did not seem moved by her generous pledge. Sure her pledge was as insincere as a street urchin with their hands in their pocket, but he didn¡¯t know that!


    ¡°Of course.¡± She said, breathing heavily. ¡°Removing all traces of my comrade''s failure was a pleasure, and I¡¯m sure a relief to their widows.¡± She uttered a strong selection of curses under her breath as she stood up, unfurling like a flower and putting on her best fake smile. ¡°We¡¯ll tell their loved ones they fought valiantly. Anyway shall we continue?¡±


    Adam said nothing, brushing past her like she didn¡¯t exist. Atleast he was heading in the right direction. She scurried after him.


    Far away was the lip of what she called the drum, a massive wall of an unknown substance that covered hundreds of miles. It was home to several towns and thousands of people. Gutworth laid hidden within its walls. The fog here was so thick that while the closest entrance was visible, the drum itself was not. It made the barred opening seem like it was floating in midair. Stranger still considering it¡¯s humble nature as a drainage gate.


    Hating silence, she whistled a tune. It was deeply familiar to her, and she knew all of the song''s wild turns and ecstatic rhythms by heart.


    He turned his head back to her, his hair hanging limp but bobbing up and down with the song. ¡°That''s a beautiful song. What do you call it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a traditional song sung whenever a greater Opinion sweeps a town and gets rid of the old stagnant one.¡±


    With a sudden crack, he turned his head back, and his pace quickened. ¡°That¡¯s what you think of me then? Something greater?¡±


    ¡±Of course!¡± She lied profusely. ¡°With the strength and quick thinking you showed in killing my beloved compatriots, how could I not be utmostly swayed?¡±


    ¡±Oh, I¡¯m not that great¡­¡± She thought he said, but there was no possible reason someone as strong as him would say something as weak. Perhaps he was asking about the gate!


    ¡°You¡¯re curious about the gate?¡± She said, perfectly helpful even pointing to it, the only landmark for miles. No hidden malice in her voice, no sir!


    ¡°Is that the safest route?¡± He asked, for the first time he sounded annoyed.


    ¡±Yes, safest route,¡± She said. Sweet and sincere, with nothing to hide!


    Of course, she was lying through her teeth.


    .


    .


    .


    ¡°You call that a punch? Pathetic! That couldn¡¯t kill a crawlcow,¡± With a massive kick, Lemure 35 sent her opponent flying into a corner of shrapnel and pain. With a sickening crack, his back landed against a wall section that hadn¡¯t been put in right. His skin ripped on a nail as he slid down, groaning hard.


    This section of the sewer system had been fenced off with rusty steel and hard wrought iron. It looked and felt more like some avant-garde art installation than a combat arena. She surveyed her work. Injured bodies were splayed out like blood splatter. Those who had yet to fight clung to the circular walls like spiders, peering down in terror at their instructor.


    Lemure 35 was a muscular, towering woman with wild orange hair that spilled out of her helm like a frozen waterfall. Unlike the lower Lemures, her armor was unique, something she took pride in. Her custom-made helmet of eyes and teeth, had a humanoid face on its forehead, like a mole. It was a woman¡¯s face, closed eyes and contemplative. Modeled after her mother. Below that and two rows of teeth was 35¡¯s bulging face and harsh red eyes, bursting out from an opening in the helmet''s metallic throat.


    The only other opening in her deep crimson armor was a ab window that showed off her profoundly chiseled six-pack that looked cut enough to grate a man''s head down to a stub. She spent 90% of her wages on protein. It was worth it.


    The one who had bled wasn¡¯t getting up. His sparring partner was in the corner of the arena, rocking solely back and forth and muttering to himself. Common trash. They weren¡¯t ready and probably never would be. She scanned the untested, daring each and every one of them with her piercing stare. ¡°Come on now¡­ don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re all Crawlcows too.¡±


    ¡°My gran ran a Crawlcow farm in the before,¡± piped up a wiry one, who hopped down from his perch on the wall. ¡°They were tough to kill, and my gran was a tough woman.¡± He got more animated, his energy misdirected. ¡°We had to use this special hammer to kill one and everything.¡± It was an invitation to spar, the poor kid didn¡¯t seem to realize.


    With a smirk, 35 seized the opportunity. ¡°Is that so? Would you like to demonstrate?¡±


    Thfloor fled to the wall, finding their footing between bumps of metal and makeshift platforms. Those who had attended before climbed up higher and shared excited glances. He looked around with a dumb expression, as if their sudden absence was a shocking betrayal. ¡°D-d-d-demonstrate what?¡±


    ¡°D-d-d-don¡¯t speak.¡± She said. The imitation of his stuttering was necessary, he would be an object lesson in failure, the cruelty was the point. She looked to the walls. ¡°You all know about Tricks right?¡±


    Everyone nodded, even her target. Tricks were a special perk or power each Remark had, while not everyone had discovered theres, everyone had one. ¡°Well, you¡¯re about to see a special demonstration of my own Trick. They get stronger with use, and good Tricks deserve to be shown off.¡±


    Her guards hid giggles. They had seen her ¡°special demonstrations¡± before. It always killed.


    ¡°You mentioned a hammer on your farm. Something like this?¡± from a strangely off-color section of empty space, a massive Remark in the shape of a crawlcow hammer appeared. Lumpy, diseased, and covered with excrement and substances somehow worse, it radiated a palpable and pungent power. ¡°I ran a crawlcow farm myself. Actually, no! There''s no reason to mince words¡­ it was a slaughterhouse.¡± She brought the crawlcow Hammer down on the wiry one''s head without warning. The impact was sudden and merciless.


    The wiry man closed his eyes, terrified.


    Only to find to his shock, moments later, that he was capable of opening them.


    He laughed, patting himself up and down in amasement. ¡°Oh¡­ you¡­ you got me. For a second there I thought you were gonna kill me. That¡¯s your Trick right?¡±


    ¡°You could say that.¡± She let him have this moment, it made the punchline all the funnier. He didn¡¯t know, but her Trick was already working it¡¯s magic. His pointer finger on his left hand was twitching, he had yet to notice this in the way everyone else in the arena had.


    He approached a group of trainees close to the floor, seemingly friend of him, and held out a hand so they could pull him up. They saw the way his fingers shook. Instead of helping him they climbed out of reach, leaving his arm outstretched as his smile slowly faded. He turned around to try the opposite wall. They did the same.


    The space was thick with muffled laughter.


    He turned to her, his hands starting to shake. ¡°What- what gives? they¡¯re all acting like I¡¯m dead¡±


    She tilted her head and hocked a loogie. ¡°Yeah¡­ cause you are.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    And then suddenly, the man exploded. His guts, vertebrae, and secret bone dispatched projectially all over the room. His blood and other assorted fluids mixed in mid-air and splattered the walls and onlookers in the color of indigo. What had been an initiation had become an execution.


    There was applause. Hooting and even hollering.


    Some of the recruits couldn¡¯t handle it. They left in a mad rush. 35¡¯s men were too overcome with laughter to stop them. The ones who remained cheered and banged on metal till their hands were bloody. She curtsied and did a bow, her cheeks flushed with pride.


    ¡°The point is, crawlcows are easy to kill.¡± Good riddance, she thought, wiping the weaklings blood off of her face. She only needed to kill one to send a message. ¡°Now, who would like to spar next?¡±


    .


    .


    .


    The condensation of the cliffs above rained down in drizzles. Despite being under mountains, this part of the waste felt like a vast outdoor field, the sky miles and miles of dripping rock. They were coming up to a tall cylinder of white marble that leaned against the drums outer wall. Small scratches and notches in it¡¯s surface a testament to the many Legacy members who used it, Tremble even recognized specific scratches as her own.


    Adam looked down at his feet and laughed. Terrified, Tremble turned and got ready to gut him. It was a false alarm, he was staring at his reflection in the wet stone. ¡°Give me a second¡± he tousled his hair, somehow finding a way to make it look even limper.


    Beneath his grime and beard, he was much younger than she initially pegged him as. Older than her, but not by much.


    ¡°Hey, hail the conquering hero!¡± snapped 13, ¡°lets go, you got a city to take over.¡± She was already scrambling up the cylinder with the help of a rope hanging above.


    He climbed casually up the spire as easily as an evening stroll, finding foot and hand holds without even looking for them.


    ¡°So what exactly is the story with the uniforms.¡± Kadmon gestured at her clothes, the exact replica of Lemure¡¯s uniform of The Great Deluge, in all its sturdy greens and yellows, complete with the helm that resembled the laughing face of a Deluge Wyrm. Five eyes close together, to allow more room for the cavernous open mouth grimace that 13 stared out from, with black cloth underneath that hid her face. ¡°You¡¯re part of a group¡­ that you¡¯re betraying, because I killed your friends?¡±


    ¡°Lemure¡¯s Legacys the name! The unquestioned truth within GutWorth. And don¡¯t you forget it!¡± she chirped.


    ¡°For someone who expects me to destroy them, you¡¯re oddly attached.¡±


    Fuck, was he onto her? She hoped the gaping maw of her helm hid the sweat on her face, though the giant bulging eyes of the mask certainly didn¡¯t evoke sincerity.


    ¡°N-n-no! No! I despise them with my entire being. I¡¯ve been reformed since your philosophy cut its foul but objectively correct blade into my ignorantly ignorant heart!¡± She got down on one knee, really selling it. ¡°You are the truth. You are the light. I merely respect the intentions of Lemure¡¯s Legacy, even if it has gone awry. Following orders¡­ such and such. I must have some unresolved fanaticism! No fear, I will adress it post haste. Please do not butcher me for the offense. Please.¡±


    Strangely, he wasn¡¯t moved.


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to make you¡­ feel or think anything¡± Adam said, frowning. ¡°I¡¯m looking for transport¡± He gave her a look that made her nervous. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be worshiped; I just want company.¡±


    Fuck. Was she blowing it? Of course she was! She always blew it. Never good enough, never lucky, it was only through ruthless effort and training that she had gotten strong enough to override her innate failure.


    Curse this strange man for being so unusual, and curse her for being unable to adapt like a good Lemure should!!


    They continued their walk in silence. Despite Adam¡¯s claim that he was interested in conversation, there was none. The tremendous downpour from the drainage waterfall served as a soundtrack to their journey.


    A wooden door was lodged into the wall just under the grate, hidden by the green and brown waterfall of refuse. They were in an artificial divot in the Drum, a space of about fifteen feet tall that had been drilled through the outer circumference and covered with muddy soil. The people before them had tried to grow food here, walls of solidified compost the only lasting reminder. Combined with the curtain of water silhouetted outside the crevice, it made the place feel sort of magical, like a secret garden hidden behind a waterfall. Assuming, of course, you had lost your sense of smell.


    ¡°Quite nice here, cool.¡± Adam noted, wandering blindly forward. She got into position behind him, planning to lock the door once he was inside. It was a straight walk to the entrance now and, after that, the arena. He¡¯d be killed in a gasp. It was too good to be true.


    He froze with his hand on the door. He sighed heavily before saying. ¡°If any of your group is behind this door, now would be the time to share that.¡±


    Ah fuck, ah fuck, not again! She said nothing in a desperate attempt to stall. He turned back to her quizzically, that concerned look her sisters had shot her so many times.


    ¡°... yes, there is.¡± She admitted. He would kill her if she lied, certainly. Of course he knew how to tell when she lied, he probably knew how to do everything. He probably knew she had been lying from that start! ¡°T-There should be some members there already, setting up for initiation.¡± If they hadn¡¯t started already, she thought to herself.


    ¡°Initiation?¡± Adam examined her like she was what a bad smell looked like.


    ¡°Of course, normal for any self-respecting Murder Game to keep their points sharp!¡± Tremble said, puffing out her chest. ¡°And after your massacre, we¡¯re going to need more bodies; the sharper the better. Hell, you may have done us a favor, weeded out the undesirables who lacked backbone.¡±


    ¡°The more you tell me about this group, the less reason I see for its continuation.¡±


    ¡°Eh, well¡­ everyone has an opinion, that¡¯s why we need Remarks!¡± There was a pause. The man was considering this as a philosophy, and not the thought ending slogan it was meant to be. ¡°Listen, I know another way we could go, one where we wouldn¡¯t encounter-¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine,¡± Adam said quickly. He sat down and ruffled around in the folds of his shawl for something. He took out his Remark and balanced it on the top of his scarred hand. He spun it like a top and watched the movement as if it was the only thing that mattered. ¡°Go ahead and tell them a traveler is coming through who is looking for passage on a boat, one heading south, preferably. My desire is to be gone from this place within a day.¡±


    He looked up, those daringly genuine eyes, ugh! What was she supposed to say to that? Yeah, she would go ahead and warn them, for their sake, but that request¡­ it was too agreeable, he must have been lying.


    He was apologetic as he spoke. ¡°I wish death was not so often the answer, but perhaps if you tell them why the one you called 16 no longer breathes, explain the situation, they¡¯ll understand-¡°


    ¡°No chance,.¡± she said, crossing her arms. ¡°They¡¯ll want your head on a pike, you know. The former 16 wasn¡¯t a charmer, but he was respected. There are rules to Murder Games. You cannot back out without another duel. They¡¯ll want blood for blood, they always do.¡±


    He sighed, putting a hand to his head while waving about with the other. ¡°Fine, fine, if you have to elaborate and overplay my power, then so be it. Tell them I¡¯m a monster, tell them I eat Remarks for breakfast, whatever you need to get them to flee and resolve this peacefully.¡±


    Fascinating. This man was commanding her to do exactly what she was hoping for. Atleast, this had been her plan B.


    ¡°O-okay, sure!¡± she said, sounding more chipper than she felt. ¡°No promises, but I¡¯ll try my best!¡± She gave a mock salute and then ran up to the door and closed it with a satisfying slam.


    She breathed deeply for the first time in hours. Gah, what a pain this all was. Even the promotion from 16¡¯s death couldn¡¯t make up for the bad taste in her mouth.


    .


    .


    .


    Adam, meanwhile, had become distracted by something in the distance, now aware of how high they had climbed, and how much was below them. Miles upon miles of the Shifting Waters. Structures and crumbled roads sticking out like limbs in bad soup. And literally nothing else. It was mind boggling. It was disheartening.


    He turned his attention to what he could touch. In the inner wall of this massive structure, a bit away from the door, was a strange metallic object protruding from a crack. Fascinated, he walked to it. It was the end of a telescope, embedded in the massive metal wall. He put his eye to the glass and looked.


    He saw what was on the other side, beyond this wall. It chilled him with pleasure to think how big this telescope was, or how it worked to give him such a view. On the other side of the wall was a self contained porridge of a city, tiny citizens scrambling around tilted buildings poised to fall like dominoes. The architecture was dominated by hues of harsh grays and cold blues, done in a style foreign to Adam. Perhaps it was to the architects as well, for there was no throughline to these buildings outside of their color. In total there were miles of streets and buildings. But being restrained by the harsh concrete walls to an area tenth the size it really needed, the city was filled with buildings built ontop of buildings. No space had been wasted, through most of it seemed abandoned.


    Near the edge of the city was a massive tower that dominated the skyline, the top, which had a massive hole on it¡¯s roof that resembled a bite, rivaled the size of the cities wall. At the end of the city was ocean that made up the bulk of the background, drying off into a thin passage of blue that lead to another city that even from this distance seemed far more pleasant than its brother.


    From this view, Adam felt like he was in a giant hollow drum. Like a toybox of some celestial child. Eons wide and ages long like the world itself, self contained and never changing. A world that was much nicer, a world that was heavier in the ways that helped, and softer in the ways that hurt. How nice that would be if true.


    A world where nothing that happened in the Drum truly mattered. They were all things made for play. Their blood was cotton and their flesh was cardboard. Fighting forever and ever in fights that didn¡¯t matter until their stuffing had consumed the Drum and the cover was closed on them for the very last time.


    Capacity believed that, at least at the end she did. Though he didn¡¯t know if it was a wish, like him, or what she truly believed the world to be. Many things about her were unclear near the end.


    She would whisper those thoughts to him after one of their many slaughters, telling him these things like they were bedtime stories.


    He looked up from the telescope, seeing not the vast cityscape but a wall flecked with rust. With a sigh he sat down, shut his eyes, let his body go limp, and waited to be picked up and used once again.

 Chapter 4: The Other Foot Drops

    ¡°35. 35!¡± Tremble barreled through the hard blind turn that separated this caged arena from the chute, hitting the side of the wall. ¡°We have a problem!¡±


    ¡°Why hello there 12- oh, 13!¡± she corrected herself. ¡°Congrats, hon¡± 35 made her Remark disappear. ¡°Who got got, and who do I have to kill?¡±


    ¡°16, and his name is Adam Kadmon.¡± Tremble put a hand on 35¡¯s broad shoulder. They were not what one would call close, but she was one of the few people that Tremble respected. A legitimate ally in a game defined by the absence of such. ¡°I¡¯m getting out of here because the guy gives me the creeps. He has no sense and Grand know how he¡¯s lived this long but don¡¯t underestimate him, that was 16¡¯s mistake. He killed him in one blow. Severed his neck, I¡¯d never seen¡­¡± she stopped, catching her breath as she relived the moment.


    35 had an expression that was not encouraging. ¡°Fuck¡­ and I assume everyone else in your group¡­ fuck. Fuck! And today of all days.¡± She leaned in and ushered them away from the center of the arena into a side area. 22, her assistant. Who resembled a slightly smaller copy of 35, was conducting sparring matches for the remaining recruits.


    ¡°So what are we talking about here? Who¡¯s he for?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s for himself, or so he says. But I believe him. He¡¯s an Idea that could easily gain traction. Run him through as soon as he shows up.¡± 13 tapped 35¡¯s neck two times, a private gesture shared between them. I¡¯m leaving to tell Morgan.¡± No matter what happened next she¡¯d be alive, ready to tell papa Lemure her side of the story.


    ¡°Of course. What does he look like, how will I know him?¡± 35 yelled as 13 ran to the exit.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll know, he reeks of death and looks twice as bad!¡± she yelled back. ¡°You got like¡­ twenty minutes!!¡±


    *


    *


    *


    For an hour, 35 and 22 had been waiting in the now empty sparring room. Remarks drawn, both taken cover on opposite sides of the large sewer entrance of the arena room. It was a large dank chamber with three exits on the other side, spaced evenly. Those they didn¡¯t have to worry about.


    The recruits had been ushered back to GutWorth by 35¡¯s cadre of Numbers, but she wasn¡¯t leaving. She had enough encounters with wannabe-king-killers to know the best approach was to meet them head on, and call their bluff.


    The fact that the low Numbers had had trouble with him meant nothing. She was strong enough that she could take on all the ranks from 1 to 25 on her own.


    She had done such a thing a year ago actually. It was supposed to be a friendly match with no casualties, but she killed five of them outright. No more sparring with the low numbers after that one.


    There was a voice behind her, a whisper, ¡°I see you¡¯ve been waiting for me.¡±


    The acoustics of the room made the voice anonymous. How did he get in? She let out a ¡°fuck¡± and swung her Remark, doing a 90 degree turn with enough force to kill.


    A delicate and well manicured hand caught it, stopping its momentum completely. 35 saw a face she recognized, and it shifted into an even more recognizable smirk.


    ¡°Please, Butcher, refrain from anything rash.¡±


    ¡°41 ¡­ I¡¯m terribly sorry.¡± She lifted her remark, there was a massive gash on the front of the Number''s manicured hand. They didn¡¯t seem to mind, it fit well with the large scar over their left eye.


    ¡°Nothing to apologize for, you are waiting for an unknown opponent who has killed our brethren. I would question your position if you didn¡¯t attack first.¡± 41 looked ravishing, as usual. Their pale face covered entirely on their right side by a tattoo of a Deluge Wyrm. Below was a choker made out of teeth, not Wyrm teeth (they were extinct. Where would one find their remains?) but impressive replicas. The teeth diminished until they became spiked buttons that went down to their waist, where their top morphed into a blood blue combat shawl covering most of their skinny jeans.


    ¡°You¡¯re here for him?¡±


    ¡°Yes, same reason you did not run. I was told, I was sent, and here we are.¡± 41 summoned their Remark, a pulsing biological scythe with a single sharp gummy tooth. They gripped the handle, and the remark gripped them back, the black substance wrapping itself around their clean, off-white hand. They smiled and winked. ¡°I¡¯m excited to meet him.¡±


    .


    .


    .


    Adam Kadmon opened his eyes. Still nothing.


    He sighed. While he preferred peace and quiet to murder and noise, the girl had promised him she¡¯d return. And the fact that she hadn¡¯t¡­ well he couldn¡¯t just stay in this spot forever, could he?


    ¡°I¡¯ll let myself in, then¡± he muttered, getting up. He left a dry spot on the otherwise wet marble slope he stood at the top of. He slid into the door, leaving it slightly ajar. It¡¯s hinges creaked in time to his footsteps


    The entrance of the sewer stank of fresh blood. The pungency of the smell only increased with each step. The depression in the chamber made Adam stumble, the floor here being half a foot lower than the passage he had emerged from. Getting his bearings, he looked around until he found a sliver of light, harsh and green, and trudged slowly in that direction.


    He was not alone.


    In the center of a makeshift circular room stood someone. Their stance was rigid and bolt upright, taller than Adam. They were staring directly at him, the specifics of their face obscured in shadow but their blue eyes very clear. In their hand was a Remark. Unlike the wielder, it seemed to be breathing.


    ¡°Hello there.¡± Adam said, ¡°I am looking for transport and mean you no harm, can you point me to-¡°


    Someone or something dropped down from the ceiling and hit him from behind. Adam¡¯s face hit the floor like an unhooked slab of meat.


    .


    .


    .


    He did not get up. He stopped moving. He simply lied there in the hours old blood, sewer water rushing past his sprawled body. 22 leaned out from their hiding place from the other side of the chamber. ¡°Is he dead?¡± They yelled.


    An overestimation, a scare for nothing, 35 thought with a grin. The man was finished. No playing with her food today. That was alright, the farm boy from earlier satisfied that urge. She flipped to the sharp side of her hammer, getting ready to use it as a blade to cleave his-If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± 41 snapped. They had already turned, heading for the left exit. ¡°We¡¯re done here. This place already needs a deep clean from your teachings today, more bloodshed is the last thing it needs.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, he¡¯s not-¡±


    ¡°Clearly dead,¡± 41 raised a finger for emphasis, not breaking their stride. ¡°You can check his chest if you want, but I know what it looks like when life lifts from a body. Thats a dead man.¡±


    35 turned the man over. A touch of the breast. Listening for a heartbeat. Nothing. His body was cold to the touch, like he had been dead forever. There wasn¡¯t a pulse or anything. ¡°Well I¡¯ll be struck down.¡±


    ¡°Time to leave.¡± 41¡¯s said from the edge of the chamber, the shadow of the exit absorbing their body. ¡°Come come, we¡¯ve wasted enough time as is. We can turn his corpse into a shrine of some sort later.¡±


    She shook her head and slipped out a laugh. She thought the man would kill him, and yet now he laid dead! And she, she! Had been the one to land the final blow.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she said to 22, who was still crouched behind a pillar. ¡°We did our job. Good work.¡±


    22 allowed herself to feel safe, she held out her hands to steady herself. ¡°Alright¡­ my heart is still beating like the Deluge. Grand¡­ I got scared for nothing. Mind if I stab him? Something about this guy¡­¡± they shrugged. ¡°It would calm my nerves, thats for sure.¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡± 35 said, excited to encourage her bloodlust. ¡°Feel free to mutilate him while you¡¯re at it.¡± Screw 41, what they didn¡¯t know wouldn¡¯t hurt them.


    22 pulled out their Remark from nothing and crouched down to lean over the stranger. She placed a hand near his throat, one leg stepping on the closest of the man¡¯s arms, which was grasping its own Remark in a cold grip.


    Wait. When did he-


    Revived with swiftness, Adam lunged. Within a second 22¡¯s remark was on the floor, brought down by a quick stab at their left leg. Within another, Adam¡¯s Remark had cut their throat. Exactly how Tremble had described poor Jerome¡¯s death.


    22¡¯s death was instant. Their life lifted with the motion of the knife. She knew because their Remark burned into nothing as soon as the cut was complete. Back into the Visionary.


    ¡°Murderer! Murderer!¡± 35 couldn¡¯t focus on the impossible, only the crime was digestible. He turned to her with shock, his eyes disturbingly guilt ridden. Her weapon materialized in her hand once again, the heft welcome.


    He put his hands up, as if peace was still possible. ¡°You have every reason to hate me¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± she screamed, to her surprise this made him jump. ¡°I only need one thing from you, and that¡¯s how you did that Trick. You were dead, I know you were dead! I felt it, we all did!¡±


    ¡°You did, no, you did,¡± the man seemed saddened, like still being alive was a faux-pas. ¡°You absolutely did. You saw my soul transfer from this,¡± he patted his body, ¡°to this,¡± he patted his Remark, gripped in a hand that still looked just as dead.


    35 had no response. She could barely comprehend it.


    ¡°Wha-¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t my body, you see. Not originally.¡± He gestured widely at his form. ¡°This is my¡­ third.¡± He slouched a bit and turned away. ¡°For as long as I can remember my consciousness has been in this Remark. I¡¯ve been it, through I¡¯ve never felt much like a Remark. Or a human for that matter. The bodies¡­ all three were willing. Friends I had made, people who trusted me. They weren¡¯t dead to start with, I don¡¯t steal corpses, this one was alive and we coexisted, until- no, now¡¯s not the time. There are things I need to feel guilty about but- this is not-¡±


    35 had had enough. She did a backspin that added thrust to her swing at her target who


    Jumped at the exact moment needed to dodge her. She smashed through the wall of the makeshift cage of metal behind them. Her abs cut by decades of rush.


    ¡°Please stop,¡± he said evenly. The Remark, him, she guessed, was dropped to the ground. ¡°You can¡¯t kill me in a way that matters. If you want to end me, destroy my Remark.¡± He smiled strange, giving away his true madness, ¡°But many have tried before, and I¡¯m still here, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    That stopped her. He was right that it was pointless, but a fight being pointless hadn¡¯t stopped her before. The key difference was what he was a Remark, the lifeblood of their society. The tools they used every day, to kill, to survive. Killing others was expected, it was what Remarks were for. And when their wielder died the Remark remained, their energy returned to the Visionary. But to try and destroy a Remark instead of the human that wielded it? Such an act would be sacrilege.


    Her own Remark disappeared. ¡°I yield in turn,¡±


    The body this marvelous Remark inhabited relaxed and slumped down. ¡°Thank you, thank you. I¡¯ll need a minute and I¡¯ll be on my-¡° His hand touched one of the larger bloodstains from the chump she had killed before. There was a bit of his arm. Hilariously, the fingers were still twitching.


    His blood had mixed with the inch-high water. He brought up a stained hand and sniffed it, his nose twitching.


    ¡°This is fresh, who did this?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that would be me. Impressive, is it not?¡± 35 allowed herself to indulge in the pleasure of life itself. If anyone would understand the eternal game, it would be a Remark (A Remark, she was talking to a Remark. Grand, how exciting). ¡°I was training a new class and had a demonstration. Oh don¡¯t make that face, he was weak and never would have lasted. I gave him immortality, for none of his classmates will forget the way his body burst opened.¡± And at that she burst into laughter, privately delighted at the memory.


    The Remark sighed. Odd. His sudden dour expression darkened even more.


    ¡±Why do you say nothing? Did I do something wrong? I¡¯ve murdered, I and another tempted death and I was the one who still stands. You¡¯ve done the same, you know the duels dominate life. The great game. You play. I¡¯ve seen you play! You exist to play!¡± She stomped her foot, ¡°Answer me, Remark, why do you refuse to look me in the eye.¡±


    ¡°My answer would only anger you.¡± He said weakly. ¡°My goal is to find what remains of the Grand Council¡­ what governs these murder games and duels¡­ and destroy it utterly.¡±


    35 gave him a moment to explain the joke.


    He did not.


    She took out her Remark again, wobbling furiously as she resisted the urge to strangle his ridiculous flesh puppet of a body. ¡°You¡¯re a liar, you¡¯re a deceiver,¡± she pointed at the Remark, the one wielding it still silent and sitting. ¡°That¡¯s probably not even you, that¡¯s probably not even a Remark!¡± It was a lowercase trick, and to think she almost fell for it.


    She felt her rage boiling the chamber. She was sick to her stomach that such an obvious fraud in all sense of the word had her crawling on her hands and knees just moments ago. ¡°Everything about you is a goddamn lie!¡±


    She lunged with her hammer, activating her trick with a phantom swipe. He didn¡¯t even react. That wasn¡¯t good enough though, she couldn¡¯t wait for it to work, he had to die now. She raised her Remark for a blow that could smash cement.


    The man back stepped and threw his Remark like an afterthought. It hit her wrist. There was a flash of light in her brain and her remark vanished.


    ¡°WHAT?¡±


    ¡°You can disrupt someone¡¯s focus on their Remark. It was a common tactic used during the Initial Comprehension.¡±


    He traversed her body, climbing up her back, picking up the lodged Remark that had gone through her armor by yanking it out of her flesh. ¡°But it went out of style by the time of the Great Deluge.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± She yelled as the man jumped and rolled from her shoulders, adjusting the positioning of his arms as 35 turned around and


    THWUMP. The Remark was submerged again, this time in her forehead. She fell to her knees, still with enough life left to comprehend the injustice of it. He walked over to her calmly, his eyes held a cold detachment that she envied. Even as her vision grew bloody she held on to the thought that she didn¡¯t deserve this. She had done nothing wrong.


    He pulled the Remark out of her head and she stopped thinking thoughts at all. She no longer had meaning in this world, and within the span of months no one would remember her.


    ¡­


    The blood from her body turned the water on the ground from a light red to a deep crimson. The water was accumulating, the leaks and constant dripping from the ceiling becoming a downpour concentrated on the sides of the large chamber. As her body floated past him, going down the right chute, the Remark who called himself Adam walked through the left.


    Or he tried to.


    His hand was twitching. It was a movement outside of his control, which shouldn¡¯t have been possible and was alarming to him. He glanced down at the severed hand, still shaking. Holding the affected hand up in front of him, it was clear the jittery movement of the two was synched.


    Something inside him exploded. Some important organ of some kind, maybe a few bones fell along with it. Would have killed him if this body hadn¡¯t died months ago. Taking a moment, he leaned on the tunnel wall and vomited up a meals worth of blood. Hand was still shaking. That was unfortunate, but atleast he had excised what had burst or gone bad. Adam didn¡¯t feel good but he hadn¡¯t felt good in a very long time. He took a few tentative steps, and was satisfied when he didn¡¯t fall immediately.


    It was going to be fine. He would find transport. He would.


    And then Adam walked through the left chute.

 Chapter 5: Memorial Of Concession

    Warmed by the vents above and cooled by the water below, 41 hummed to themselves, treating the excursion like a holiday. They deserved it, did they not? Their service with Lemure dated back to the Deluge itself.


    They were trying to survive in a war where that alone was folly. They had much in common. 41, their original name not necessary, had shielded Lemure from numerous fatal blows. It was an honor to serve as leader of his number guard. Certainly no frustration over consistently being passed over by much younger members who became Constants. No, Lemure knew what he was doing, their job was too important, there was simply no one who could do it better.


    With a spirited flick of the fingers, meant for no one, they thought words into their wrist, ¡°Job done, stranger dead. No other casualties.¡±


    They added a smiley face for good measure, drawn in themselves with nimble fingers on their flesh.


    What a good day, Lemure¡¯s most important had saved it yet again. The system worked, as it always did.


    Far quicker than expected, they got a reply, the words contorting the veins in their wrist with more pain than the last. ¡°Please confirm 22 and 35 dead.¡±


    A wrinkle of the nose, what was this nonsense?


    ¡°They are alive. The stranger is dead. No pulse. No other casualties.¡± Casualties was underlined. Hopefully, now they would get off their back. Unless two trusted fighters had slipped on a rock and simultaneously kicked it, one of the Constants was being fed false information.


    They didn¡¯t know who they were currently speaking to, but it had to be a Constant, as they were the only ones outside Lemure able to question 41. How useless and strange for the master to pick six nobodies who were barely conscious when the Deluge mattered to be their superiors. They predated all of them in seniority.


    This was not a vacation. They could no longer keep up the illusion. They were in the bowels of the city, walking through raw sewage and fecal matter. Dispatching the stranger lacked its former importance; now, it just seemed busy work, and 41 did not need to be kept busy.


    Another message, ¡°22 and 35 have gone out. Everyone below lifted. Confirm death of stranger.¡± An audible groan. What was this? ¡°He¡¯s dead!¡± they shouted, as if the person on the other end could hear them. 41 was, if nothing else, a professional, they would not let this obvious failing on the part of their ¡°superiors¡± get to them. Reversing their path, they summoned their Remark and picked up speed with every turn.


    Returning to the chamber, 41 found the corpse missing and two new ones in its stead. They let out a silent scream and clawed at their eyes.


    This¡­ this was their mess to clean.


    With calm, unhurried hands, 41 pushed into her veins the message, ¡°Confirmed, 22 and 35 are dead. Stranger also dead.¡±


    They followed the bloody footsteps, confident that in only moments their message would come true.


    .


    .


    .


    When the tunnel opened back up to the harsh wall of the drum, the first thing Adam Kadmon noticed was the large pillar in the center of a courtyard balcony overgrown with dying plants. It overlooked the city of GutWorth itself, giving him a much clearer view; he could see the large and overgrown port that lay directly behind it. There was a building in development that would have blocked the view of the port entirely if its left side wasn¡¯t sloped and only half complete.


    He only glanced long enough to confirm that the only obstacle left to GutWorth was a vertical one. The balcony overlooking it was built into a rocky cliff of solidified sewage waste. Strange metal walls poking through the muck made it seem like it had been the cornerstone of a great castle, solidified and overgrown over years; he could climb down with minimal effort.


    He turned his attention back to the pillar. It was more accurate to call it a sculpture, as there were multiple limb-like outgrowths from the main body, all pointing rigid straight at the city. Like the pillar was turning into missiles aimed at the city, and it was frozen right before the first could detach.


    There was a plaque below it. While slightly worn, he could still read that it said:


    ¡°To those who would kill us, we honor your intentions.¡±


    There was a design carved underneath. Adam bent down further to fully make out what it was-


    WHAM. With immense force, a large weapon of some kind caved through the statue.  Its sharp end hooked onto the plaque, inches away from Adam¡¯s face. He stumbled back, as the chitinous scythe ripped the plaque, and a solid foot of ground that served as the foundation, over the head of its wielder.


    Before him was the lithe figure he recognized from the tunnel. The third Lemure agent. Their face the antithesis to composure.


    ¡°Hello there.¡± A sudden jump in the air caused a flock of floatrats on the railing to take flight. The flat end of the scythe fractured the courtyard stonework. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be alive.¡±


    Adam took himself out and attacked 41 with a succession of twin jabs, switching his stabbing hand with each slash. 41 gave up ground, slinking to the other end of the courtyard with a feral grin on their face.


    ¡°You brute, you barbarian. You don¡¯t even understand the graveness of your mistake.¡± Another jump, this time pouncing over Adam, now behind him, weapon close to his chest and about to hook him. They cocked a manicured hand at the now ruined sculpture. ¡°That was the memorial of concession.¡±


    Adam ducked right as 41 pulled their remark back so sharply that it sliced dust particles in two. 41 continued unfazed


    ¡°It was a consolation prize for those strong enough to be a threat, but weak enough to kill. I commissioned it myself, the artist was a wonderful woman on loan from Sloan.¡± The swings slowed as 41 pontificated. ¡°When they saw the way they would be memorialized, they were tripping over themselves to be the first under my blade.¡±


    As the swings slowed the precision grew. Dodging wasn¡¯t cutting it anymore. Adam moved his way from one corner of the courtyard to the next, but there was only so much space. ¡°We respect the ambition of those who want to end us. Who are we if not successful backstabbers? Lemure is famous for the people he fucked over.¡± 41 licked their lips, their swing struck Adams shoulder, and blood stained their pasty cheek. ¡°We would welcome them as contemporaries if their existence didn¡¯t necessitate our demise.¡±


    Adam blocked one of the swings, the powerful thrust bouncing off his remark as if it was made of stone and 41¡¯s was wood. His other hand was still shaking, he kept it behind his back. Let 41 think he was hiding a weapon and not his own weakness.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    It fell into a part of the courtyard where 41¡¯s erratic swings had already left a hole, the large tooth end of the remark now inadvertently a makeshift plug. Adam slashed 41¡¯s soft hands, making the taller fighter let out a sharp yelp in shock, but kept their grip as the black substance of their own Remark seemed to tighten.


    Adam kicked 41 in the face, going airborne and using the full weight of his lower body to do so. Their hands yielded possession, and they hit the ground just as Adam¡¯s prone body did the same on the other side of the remark.


    There was a slight shake as the two fell. A not insubstantial part of the courtyard¡¯s railing broke off and tumbled before rolling to a stop on the awkward slope below.


    ¡°I am only going to ask you once,¡± Adam said, observant of the new fragileness in the floor as he picked himself up. ¡°I do not want to fight you, I am looking for passage to leave.¡± He yelled it, once more. ¡°To leave!¡±


    41 got up mechanically, like a doll being lifted by a practiced puppeteer. They were making a sound that Adam assumed was crying, but seeing their face, Adam realized it was them laughing through their nose.


    ¡°I do not believe you. More pertinently, I don¡¯t care.¡±


    41 paced the now creaking courtyard, the cracks creating new patterns in the ground, new avenues to traverse. They treated it as a new space ripe for exploration. ¡°They¡¯re gonna hate you for destroying our garden here, but we¡¯ll move on, we¡¯ll heal. I hate you for tricking me, and making two promising Remarks lost to time like peons.¡±


    One of their eyes was bleeding. Their immaculate clothing now stained, any of the authority 41 once possessed was long gone. Their cadence was interchangeable from a panhandler rambling about how ¡°the Grand would wash us away¡±.


    They pointed a now bloodied hand at Adam. ¡°You, on the other hand, will die here. And don¡¯t even think you¡¯ll be worthy of getting one of these.¡± They gestured rapidly at the remains of the sculpture, the words too cracked to read. With a wince they wiped their nose with a ghastly snort, then the laughter trailed off like a faucet. ¡°Your corpse will beg us for a memorial, we¡¯ll hold a seance every week, just to confirm your demise, because respect begets respect my friend, and you have and deserve none.¡± Their pacing was concentric circles that were getting smaller and smaller, circling around their still wedged remark. Their fear of Adam the only thing keeping them from rushing in to grab it.


    Adam took a defensive position in front of their large remark and got four razor sharp nails aimed at his throat for his trouble. He grabbed the hand on the backswing, and twisted it 90 degrees. If 41 was hurt by this, they didn¡¯t show it. Smiling through gritted teeth, they calmly punched Adam''s face repeatedly with their other arm.


    ¡°You¡¯ll die if you continue,¡± Adam said, holding them back like a teacher dealing with an unruly pupil. A final push seemed like it would have enough momentum to knock them off, but Adam misjudged his opponent¡¯s weight. Losing grip of their arm, 41 wasted no time. They kneed Adam and ripped their remark out of the ground, ready to finish the job.


    But 41 never got that chance.


    The frantic fight they had had only moments before did not just weaken the foundation of the free standing courtyard, it had decimated it. The remark in the ground was like an arrow jutting out of a man''s chest. The thing that had killed it was the only thing keeping it standing.


    The loose rocks on either side fell first, and then the platform itself followed, the two people on it floating in the air for a second, and then plummeting too, limbs moving erratically as they headed towards the earth. A small grey disk took a long fall.


    .


    .


    .


    In a minor cramped corner of a minor cramped eatery, Devon Near was trying to make herself as small as possible. Pretty easy to do, as she was a small malnourished girl. Even though she was 19, nearly if not fully grown, a bad life and worse lifestyle had left her skeletal and gangly. With her brown skin and dark boyish hair, she blended in easily with the clay desert of Gutworth.


    In her hand she held the dream dust, that disgusting drug harvested from bones and soil that she had spent the last week collecting. Her hands were stained the same creamy red color as the dust. It was a good harvest, which didn¡¯t make her any happier. All she would get from it was the guarantee of one less beating. The buzzer rang again.


    She poked her head out.


    Wham. The door slammed open as Tread, the ornery owner of the diner, walked in. He was a massive man, and by a frustrating favor that her uncle owed him, she was indebted to him, something he would often remind her of through threats of firing. She knew these were always bluffs, there was no one else desperate enough to do a job like this. Half cook, half fence for small time crooks, like the ones currently waiting outside, keeping the place occupied.


    ¡°Those two are here for you Devon, have you gone deaf?¡± He saw the open box, the dream dust on her fingers. His face morphed into a ferocious snarl.


    It was instantaneous, she closed her eyes and angled her body to make the fall hurt less, as she knew what was about to happen.


    He didn¡¯t hit her, instead he hit the cabinet above her. Pots and pans fell down around her, covering the floor. She hid her face as if that would help, and it caused him to laugh loudly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re dealing drugs on my time,¡± Tread said, already turning around for the door. ¡°I just care that you¡¯re not ripping them off. Sampling the merchandise?¡± He paused, turning his neck around so that she could see his dark beady eyes, alive with glee. ¡°That''s pathetic, Devon. I wouldn¡¯t expect it from anyone else.¡±


    He closed the door gracefully, and she could hear him announce that she would be out shortly, just after she finished cleaning up after herself. Wiping tears from her eyes, she started on what would be on the long and ultimately pointless task of cleaning up after someone else¡¯s mess. The buzzer rang again. A reminder that two members of the Legacy were waiting outside.


    She turned on the stove, feeling relief once she did. There were no orders to address, no food that needed heating. But the feeling she got from putting her hand above that flame, from testing her limits¡­ there was nothing like it.


    She lived an admittedly boring and pointless life. Only moving forward due to the possibility of one day getting her revenge, but her options were limited. She¡¯d train physically, but she didn¡¯t know how, any of the options available were exclusive to Lemure members.


    Technically she was a reserve member of the legacy, but all that meant was that she was a glorified errand girl. The stove was something she could control.


    At first she found her pain tolerance was frustratingly low, but over the years it had gotten to the point that she could hold her hand for minutes without feeling any discomfort. She loved how the sense of danger increased with each passing second. She knew that if she was to lower her hand an inch, she¡¯d be burned, and that even keeping it here would result in second or third degree burns if she held it long enough. It was that danger that was so appealing to her, a danger that she could end at any moment, or make even riskier.


    She smiled, daring herself to lower her hand, oh, about a third of an inch. There we go, now that was a distance that could still make her nervous. The flames were practically licking her hand and all she felt was a comforting warmth, and yet there was a panic at the back of her head that was intoxicating.


    There was a loud sound in the distance. She turned lazily to the window, and saw a massive cloud of dust beneath the Memorial of Concession, or what used to be the Memorial. As she took in the dust cloud, and put two and two together that it must have been the remains of the Memorial, all she could think was good riddance. The Memorial was a vanity stunt by Lemure Legacy after they had murdered what remained of the resistance in town.


    She remembered the day they executed them on the cliff. She had been in the crowd, but she had looked away when 41, that fucker with their cheap cologne and lopsided grin, had cut the throats of the so-called willing victims. She saw the terrified looks in their eyes right before, none of them were willing, none of them wanted to die. None of them should have died. Her lip quivered at the memory, feeling a level of emotion she had assumed she had grown numb to.


    What frustrated her was that she was aware of the injustice. It would be so easy if she could be like anyone else, either unable to process the cruelty, or so embedded within it you could do no other thing than embrace it.


    She was neither, she was able to comprehend it in its enormity. The pointlessness of it, the casualness of it, the violence and death Lemure¡¯s Legacy brought upon them daily, no doubt the collapse of the Memorial was ultimately Morgan¡¯s fault. It made her sick, it made her angry, it made her livid, it made her-


    FUCK. Her train of thought was interrupted by the searing pain. Wrenching her hand back, she turned the now emblazoned stove off quickly, making sure not to start a fire. That was the last thing she needed. She looked at her hand, while it stung, there were no scars, at least no new ones. Her older burn scars, from when she had been less careful and far more masochistic.


    The buzzer went off again. Well, there was no point in delaying the inevitable.


    2 minutes and 45 seconds, she thought, as she opened the door, letting herself enjoy a small smile. It was a new record.

 Chapter 6: Behind The Cellophane

    ¡°They¡¯re getting smaller all the time.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that, sir?¡± Quertra was in the process of changing the bony man¡¯s waste bag.


    The bony man was clad in a chitinous cloak that hid all but the top of his mangled head and tired eyes. From his wrought iron carriage that doubled as a restraining bed, he looked out from the unfinished penthouse, down to the town of GutWorth, 300 feet below them. The locals were selling their wares, getting into petty fights that only rarely ended with real injury. They were too cowardly to use their Remarks, most resorted to fists.


    ¡°Every day that passes by without my presence¡­ they get smaller.¡±


    She was humming a song to herself that had been all the rage last season. It was from a new genre called murder music, where the screams of those caught by Death were sampled into melodic uptempo numbers. She liked this one because the victims scream was so pitched down it was barely identifiable.


    The man clenched his fist. His fingernails were scoured with bite marks. ¡°I am their god, I should be down there, keeping them from shriveling away into nothing.¡±


    ¡°I think that will come any day now,¡± she lied, patting his diminutive head. ¡°You know us, we just want you to heal. You can¡¯t blame us for being too-¡°


    ¡°I got baaaaaad fucking news!¡¯ Daaz Chesterfield ripped the door off the hinges as she crashed through, bug eyed and frantic. Her standard entrance. Quertra wasn¡¯t at all concerned, through she did make a mental note to replace the door as soon as possible.


    Daaz slapped a piece of paper on a stained glass table in the center of the room before getting up again. It was a loop of a broad shouldered woman Quertra vaguely recognized, an identification image, as well as a failsafe to send out for targeting if any of the lowers betrayed them. The image raised an eyebrow endlessly, flushed with the smugness only the Legacy could give.


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve seen her. She¡¯s annoying. What¡¯s her number now?¡±


    ¡°Who fucking cares. She¡¯s DEAD.¡± Daaz said bluntly, ¡°and I haven¡¯t heard anything from 41 since they fucking LIED to us and said that Adam weirdo was dead. If he was, why was everyone else on the scene lifted, hmmm?¡± She held her hands out, eyes wide.


    The man in the carriage began moaning. Quetra ignored him. She adjusted her suit skirt, making sure that her lapel of Lemure¡¯s coat of arms, the yawning mouth of a Deluge Wyrm, was straight. She only wore a half mask, her green-tinged oval face visible on the same side as her stub. Her left arm had been chopped off in a duel years ago.


    ¡°Everyone this guy comes in contact with so far has ended up dead¡­we can blitz him, but not sure if we have the manpower to risk it.¡± Quetra put up her hands, not seeming that worried. ¡°It would be so much easier if Lumenescia had allowed us more members, our best strategy is¡­.¡±


    ¡°Fuck the manpower, we can take him on.¡± Daaz pointed at herself and then Quetra, ¡°We get the other four, wait for the old man to wake up and get his shit together.¡± A reluctant gesture at the man, whose moaning had risen an octave. ¡°And ambush him all at once. Like we did with the BroadChurch uprising.¡±


    ¡°We must kill the bear, let''s enter its cave. We must stop the bees, let''s attack the hive,¡± she said. Her mom had told her many stories on the ship that her great great grandparents grew up on, stories that would get her killed by the Grand if any outside of Daaz knew she still recited them daily. ¡°You see how foolish that sounds?¡±


    She picked up a syringe, the man''s wailing rising in intensity. Was he terrified by such a powerful opponent, had the sudden arrival shaken him that much? Quetra did not much know, or care. She tried her best to take of this sick feeble man, but he was not who she paid fealty to. ¡°We¡¯re in need of a second opinion.¡±


    ¡°By all means.¡± Daaz gestured towards the man, now convulsing, the cloak surrounding him seemed to possess more vitality. ¡°About fucking time. He¡¯s gonna be pissed when he finally wakes up.¡±


    The man''s screaming was cut short by a quick injection in the throat. His neck went limp, and his body sunk even deeper into the massive cloak that he wore like a second skin. Quetra picked up the door with her good arm and leaned it onto the frame, making sure it would be presentable for him when he truly awoke.


    When the man opened his eyes, it was not the dim and confused look of one living out his last days, but a composed and confident glare. The look of a war hero who knows he should have died long ago. Annoyed to have been brought back to existence, but willing to hear out the reason.


    ¡°Hello Morgan Lemure.¡± They said in unison, offering their hand in the classic supplicant stance.


    ¡°Quetra, Daaz.¡° The now soft spoken and measured man said, he paused before continuing. There was a cough, finding to his surprise that his throat was ragged.


    He got out of his carriage, moving experimentally. The cloak trailed behind him, quickly molding itself to a more fashionable, lightweight form. ¡°Do the other four remain with us?¡±


    ¡°Undoubtedly. We have an issue.¡± Quetra paused, this was not something she was looking forward to sharing. ¡°9 is now our lowest.¡±


    ¡°Six deaths?¡±


    ¡°Five today. 17 was killed two weeks ago. But five have been killed in the last 24 hours by one target.¡±


    ¡°Or so we believe,¡± popped in Daaz, wanting to be included.


    ¡°No¡­ it¡¯s six,¡± Morgan Lemure said. He bought out a small hexagonal device from under the now breathing cloak and squeezed its sides. Within moments 31 lights lit up. There were 10 further indents spread chaotically around the sides that stayed unlit.


    Quetra did not know how the object worked, but she knew which light corresponded to which number. ¡°41 is-¡±


    ¡°Please do not talk as if this is unprecedented,¡± Morgan said. ¡°I see no reason for fear. There have been losses of much greater value. The only thing unique here is the disrespect being shown.¡± With no trouble, Morgan Lemure made the jump from the floor of the highrise to one of the pillars that supported the half finished roof. His cloak formed two claw-like appendages that helped him climb to the top as he talked. ¡°It does make our job easier. If he is unwilling to show respect, we have no obligation. The usual dueling benefits given for particularly strong opponents will not be followed.¡±


    Daaz took out her Remark, two knuckle dusters with excitable suckers on the tips. ¡°Good, lets burn the fucker then!¡±


    Quetra said nothing, and thought only of how impressive her leader¡¯s control of his cloak was, even with his condition. The ¡°infestation¡±, as he called it, had limited his consciousness, turning him into a senile babbling man akin to a stranger in his skin. They could cure him for a time, but the cure was drying up, and they had to ration it like food during the Deluge.


    But restored to his glory, it was hard to remember that. His eyes, clouded in white aether, had never looked as brilliant as they did now.


    ¡°I think you may favor a more subtle approach, am I correct, Syre?¡±


    ¡°Possibly, Quetra,¡± he said, now perched on the quarter of the roof that had been constructed, looking down on them like a skulkcrow. ¡°This man is our priority, but also unpredictable. 41¡¯s purpose has always been as a bellwether, and even in death they continue to serve it.¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡±Well maybe this guy just got lucky. I¡¯ll fucking murder him. I¡¯ll do it easy.¡± Daaz said. She was obviously itching for a fight, it was the only real thing she cared about. Quetra was jealous at how simple the life that Daaz lead was.


    ¡°I can¡¯t risk any of you. Sending you against this man would be unwise and risky.¡± Lemure said. Daaz let out a petulant gasp of frustration, but Quetra knew from experience that would be as far as her rebellion would go. The Constants were Constant for a reason. The numbers were expendable by nature, but she and the five others had proven that they could transcend what was basically a glorified trial period to become Lemure¡¯s inner circle. They were his legacy.


    From the top floor, ceiling mostly unbuilt or caved in, they could see the entirety of GutWorth splayed out before them. A scratched and harshed red landscape of sediment and clay guarded by sculpted hovels and more respectable townhouses that were outliers, but grouped together, like herds of CrawlCows. Large swaths of the land were ruined and burned, but even these remains had the foundation of new buildings, being constructed by those who hadn¡¯t understood their refusal to move had consequences. What was habitable was grouped together in massive clumps, like singflies on corpses. Tenements and buildings with no purpose were built on top of each other, so many of these structures seemed like poor imitations of the Embassy, the tall building that was taller than even the Drum (she thought of it as a great hollow Drum, but hadn¡¯t told anyone as to say so felt like sacrilege in a way she couldn¡¯t identify)


    The Embassy Lemure jutted out from the port that cut through the Gar river and was taller by several orders of magnitudes. Querta could even hear the construction and annoyed orders from workers on the other end of the building, finally working on adding a new wing to the seventh floor. Lemure retreated further into the cloak. The patches of fur and veins reminded Quetra that it was made out of Wyrm skin. A fitting trophy for the one who had killed it. Even when Morgan was dormant with the strange sickness that made him forget, he never took it off.


    ¡°This is a place of safety, for us and all that live here. Anyone who wants to kill me will need to kill all that I hold dear.¡± Lemure¡¯s brilliant eyes, scanning the town impartially, locked onto something to the left of the embassy. A collection of alleys left over from a commercial district long destroyed. Quetra couldn¡¯t see anyone there, but it was a good 600 feet away, she couldn¡¯t be expected to.


    Lemure chipped off a piece of the roof he sat on, and did something to it under the cover of his cloak. ¡°Quetra, I am going to pause any change to the order. I know this will be controversial, as others will surely die before this is over, but for now, whatever number a member of Lemure legacy has is permanent until this man, this Adam, is killed.¡±


    Lemure revealed his hands, the scrap metal was now in the form of a hefty and powerful spear. ¡°From now on, the only promotion possible is the open slot of 41. Whoever kills this man will earn it.¡±


    Before Quetra could answer, Lemure in an unexpectedly fluid motion whipped the spear in the direction of the alleyway. There was a distant but clear scream from the direction which he had been staring.


    ¡°An assassin, he had just manifested a Remark and was staring straight at me. His motive unknown to me, but he was not a resident.¡± He jumped down to the floor, and acknowledged both Quetra and Daaz. ¡°It can all be too much sometimes, can¡¯t it?¡±


    .


    .


    .


    31 was lucky enough to see the  Concession Courtyard fall, as if a reward for a day intolerable in its mundanity.


    She was waiting for the drop with 29, embarrassing grunt work for numbers of their size, but the benefits of drug running did soften the insult. The inside of the Memorable Wretch wasn¡¯t bad. A slow day, as the diner was officially closed, only open for business such as this. Bad business, as she called it. Which was funny, because business was very good.


    Their plug was late, despite working there they hadn¡¯t seen her at all. Mousy sort, the type to weak of limb or will to even try out for the legacy. A reserve member, sure, but almost everyone in town was a reserve member. You needed to be if you wanted protection, see?


    Anyway, they were passing the time really casual like. The stranger gave them plenty to talk about. 31 was about to make a great joke about all the deaths in their ranks, when suddenly, a sound like a cavity driller pierced her eardrums. Were they being attacked? Was the world collapsing? Was this what withdrawal felt like???


    Who knows how long she would have stayed in panic mode if not for the porthole in the shop''s dull clay walls.


    It perfectly framed the tail end of the Concession Courtyard collapse. The small zigzag set of plank stairs that lead down to the road was still present, but there was now a gaping hole where the Courtyard once connected them to the sewer tunnel. A spot where 31 had walked just hours before, when she and a few others had been rudely escorted away due to the danger this Adam supposedly posed.


    Outside the window the street was now busy. From every house there was at least one person cautiously poking their head out from the line of clay shops, trying to find the source of that great crash. Once it was found, they milled around the street with others already gathered, sharing looks of bewilderment and rumors with no good origin about how it had happened.


    The newly minted 29 whistled appreciatively as he leaned into the window, his face obscuring her view. ¡°I think I can guess who was on there.¡±


    ¡°No you don¡¯t, you haven¡¯t even met him.¡± 31 stepped away from the window, reacclimating herself to the reality of the present. She bought the curtains down to deny 29 another look.


    ¡°But I¡¯m right, right?¡± 29 hit the table in a steady rhythm. ¡°That was the work of that Adam guy, the reason why I¡¯m 5 ranks higher than I was this morning.¡±


    ¡°Was¡± was an accurate term. ¡°He¡¯s dead now, whoop whoop. Get used to waiting for promotions again.¡± She walked over to the counter and hit the buzzer. Where the hell was Devon anyway?


    ¡°How do we know he¡¯s dead?¡± 31 flinched.


    ¡°If you see a body walk out of that.¡± She flung her arm in the direction of the window, a dust cloud still in the process of forming. ¡°Then I¡¯ll be the first to admit I was wrong.¡±


    29 didn¡¯t seem satisfied with the answer, even though it was perfectly agreeable. ¡°This guy killed like¡­ well, everyone who got got today.¡± He spread out on the bench, closing his eyes. ¡°He could of escaped in the tunnel, he could of-¡°


    ¡°It¡¯s over. Move on.¡± 31 was searching her wrist scan for information on Lemure¡¯s current hierarchy. Retired members had three new entries. The former 22 (not a surprise) the former 35 (to be expected but tragic) and¡­


    ¡°What. What is it?¡± 29 rolled off the table and tapped her on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re just standing there, what is it?¡±


    She showed him with a flick of her veins. His smart veins were a few minutes behind her. Another whistle ¡°Damn, I¡¯d never thought I¡¯d live to see the day.¡±


    The calm, confident face of 41 stared at them in the medium of flesh. Eyes closed, lips coyly pursed, cowl perfectly coiffed. Overlaid on the picture in the color of a rash was the bright red symbol of a worm''s open mouth. 31 always assumed she would die long before 41 ever did.


    ¡°So I guess 40¡¯s the new 41?¡±


    Even though 41 was deceased, their spot remained theirs, only the maw of the Wyrm communicating that they could no longer enjoy it. ¡°Everythings been locked!¡± she should have been 32, for instance, but her number on her neck had yet to change.


    29 sighed. ¡°Oh come on, I thought advancement was supposed to be instantaneous!¡±


    31 gave a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s controlled by Lemure, if we¡¯re no longer advancing-¡± she stopped herself. She put a hand on her neck, deep in thought. ¡°This could be a test.¡±


    ¡°Like, they¡¯re not actually dead, sort of test?¡±


    Fingers drummed on the table in rhythm to her voice. ¡°They are, but I think that''s the thing of it. 40 is still 40, not that he even deserves such a title.¡±


    Finally, after what felt like hours, but was really just 12 minutes of waiting, Devon, their good for nothing plug appeared, carrying a box that seemed quite small for what was supposed to be in there. Her black hair was a mess, and her eyes were irritated, as if she had been crying. What did she have to cry about? She had a cushy as grand job serving clientele as nice as them all day. And she got paid for the privilige!


    ¡°What the hell¡¯s the matter? New side effect?¡± She ripped the box from Devon''s hands; the younger girl''s grip was nothing compared to her own. Opening the box, all was in order. The small grain-like pieces of the dream-dust moved in unison, shifting like a slice of an ocean. She sampled a piece, instantly feeling lighter as she felt flashes of violence. It was heaven in a box.


    ¡°Perfect, great haul. No pay today though. The boss was disappointed we had to resort to threats.¡± Devon didn¡¯t say anything, just continued to look down and sniffle. ¡°So consider your continued existence your reward.¡± 31 punched the girls shoulder, and 29 let loose braying laughter far louder than the stunt deserved.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to know what I had to do to get this for you.¡± It would have been preferred if Devon stayed silent. She gave the bag to 29 before replying.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t tell us. You dig in the shore, we keep ourselves clean.¡± She surveyed the girl up and down, not wanting to end the fun. ¡°You¡¯re a reserve member, are you not?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The quietest reply.


    ¡±And you¡¯re good at digging.¡±


    ¡±Well by necessity, yes.¡±


    ¡°Well then good news, we have a new mission, investigate whatever in the Grand¡¯s name happened over there.¡± A mad wave at the now shrouded window. ¡°So get moving.¡±

 Chapter 7: Big Horizon

    On the way to the Memorial¡¯s ruins they were accosted by some unremarkable reserve members. The type who would go religiously to initiations, but never dare to do anything riskier than watch.


    ¡°Where ya going? Where ya going?¡± They cried, following along at a distance like beasts hoping for scraps. ¡°Are you going over to where that big crash happened? Can we come, can we come?¡± They were desperate for any chance to prove themselves. A simple demonstration of 31¡¯s Remark, a throwing weapon that always found it¡¯s way back to her hand, sent them running.


    ¡°The locals here, I swear,¡± said 31 as they disappeared in her Remark¡¯s reflection. 29 and Devon, not particularly close, shared a look.


    ¡°You¡¯re from here, Lemsk,¡± 29 said. She didn¡¯t know he knew her name.


    She dismissed this with a wave of her sequined gloved hand. ¡°Don¡¯t use my name in front of the hostage, Trav.¡±


    Devon sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not a hostage.¡± 29 took her by the hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re here by force, my friend. What else could we call you?¡± 31 leaned down so that she was looking the smaller girl straight in the eyes. ¡°Would you prefer that to being bait?¡±


    Devon didn¡¯t respond.


    They were close enough to stake out the collapse. Being this close to the wall of the ravine that circled Gutworth (a ravine she often thought, usually on the precipice of dreaming, was not unlike a hollow Drum) was overwhelming. Rubble was concentrated in a tight, lumpy pile at the Drums base. Of course the Memorial of Concession was unrecognizable, hundreds of manhours consolidated in that little pile. Where it once was was now a massive gash that revealed the Drums innards. She could see bits and pieces of the massive aqueduct, functioning as a skeleton, and beyond and within it was detritus she could not identify, packing the space completely. To hazard a guess they looked like balls of lint grilled and then frozen. It made her feel funny, so she focused on the safe and easy to comprehend debris below.


    31 balled up a fist and placed it in front of her face. From this distance it was the same size and shape as the rubble, and covered it in such a way that it seemed her fist had punched the hole at the heart of the cliff face. She opened her hand and mimed grabbing the rubble and squeezing it tightly.


    Of course, all she was grasping was air.


    Her veins squirmed, atop her fist a message emerged.


    ¡°41 Is Dead. Whoever brings us Adam Kadmon alive will earn their spot.¡±


    Just what she was hoping for. She steadied herself so as not to convulse with joy at how well things were turning (not that it was surprising that she, a good person, was being rewarded with good things.)


    Now all they had to worry about was making sure the poor bastard didn¡¯t die in the fall. Wouldn¡¯t that be anti-climatic.


    She snapped her fingers briskly and jogged over to the rubble. She went slowly but confidently, not reflecting the sheer fear she felt in her heart. For Devon¡¯s benefit she showed off the vigor being a Number gave you. It gave you the strength to do so many things, like starting your own business, or hoisting up rocks and chucking back dirt like there was no tomorrow.


    ¡°Am I just supposed to keep lookout?¡± The wet rag of a hostage said.


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly it, yes!¡± 31 said, tossing rubble away like she was a mail clerk shifting through dead letters (a job she once had and never would again). ¡°You keep the heat off, and warn us if anyone else tries to-¡° she turned to 29. ¡°-Muscle in,¡± they said in unison. A private joke between the two of them. Number humor, the punchline being about a dock boy whose neck was broken when he stuck it where it didn¡¯t belong. Devon wouldn¡¯t get it.


    ¡°Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Resy.¡± 29 yelled at Devon. She was frowning at the moment, but the command was justified. After all, she could be smiling in the future.


    He turned to 31, his hands absentmindedly going through a phalanx of broken tiles. ¡°Lemsk, what was that all about? You know, saying you weren¡¯t from here and all.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t a name that meant anything to her, even if it was hers by right. ¡°I told you not to call me that.¡± It brought back what she called her inadequate memories. In a just world she could have traded them for those more suited to her status. No more of these weird out of character snapshots of her huddled underneath a soggy awning, crying in dark alleys, and trying to open doors that would remain forever locked. How was such a past for a number like her possible? Give them over to someone like Devon, who was far more suited to feeling nostalgic whenever a child burst into tears.


    29 leaned in, looking confused. He just wouldn¡¯t let this go. ¡°But¡­ we grew up together. The same street even. You saved me from that stray Aberration when we were both whelps.¡± He rubbed his head, his interest in corpse digging annoyingly at zero. ¡°I guess you don''t want people to know about that. Sorry. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°While that sounds wonderful and all, Trav, I have no memory of such an incident. How could I? I only came here 7 months ago. Came in from that massive ship of nobles and known names, eager to assist the honorable Lemure with his terraforming of this city''s wretched state.¡± Her digging had become downright whimsical, digging away ruins with a jaunty tilt of her head with every scoop. ¡°Unrelated, but the Legacy has the authority to make their own past.¡± He was unaware of this, she could tell by the way he scratched his head, a nervous tic as unbecoming as a Rot Tick infection.


    With no warning a hand sprung out of the wreckage. It was ravaged in bruises and open wounds, and it juttered unnaturally. There was a giant gash separating two fingers down to the nerves, like a frayed cloth. And yet the person attached was very much, undeniably, alive. You could tell by the quivering.


    They fell off of the pile in shock and disbelief. 31 stayed on her feet, but 29 lost his fight with the ground and fell. Sometimes she questioned if he had the custard for this type of work.


    There was a moment where none of them acted. Staring at the strangeness in front of them as if it would correct itself on its own.


    But then instinct kicked in. 31 was certain this was Adam, who else could it be? Couldn¡¯t be 41, they were far too much of a neat freak to let their nails go to seed.


    ¡°Is there a guy in there?¡± Devon asked.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to talk.¡± 31 grasped the hand and pulled while 29 cleared a space around the exposed arm. The man came out slowly from the pile, like an animal being born. His clothes were tattered, and the state of his body matched the sorry state of his hand. Neither of them had ever seen this man before, but there was no doubt on his identity. They looked to each other, sharing a smile.


    They helped him to his feet roughly. The man groaned as ribs cracked from the sudden force. ¡°Easy now buddy, we¡¯re the ones who found you, we¡¯re not gonna hurt you.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck, that is a guy?!¡± Devoid of information Devon rushed forward. 31 kicked her for her own good. Her body fell flat with a satisfying groan. Less satisfying was the look of death Devon shot her from the ground.


    ¡°Be careful Ressy, this is 41¡¯s killer.¡± She puppeteered his head, making his unkempt hair swing back and forth like overgrown moss on a windy day. ¡°He¡¯s killed a half dozen people while you were digesting breakfast.¡± She looked back to the mound, 41 was surely there too, perhaps right below the surface, but that didn¡¯t matter now.


    The man barfed up water, fetid and far fouler than any water she knew, and coughed like it was his last. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ looking for transportation.¡±


    29 raised a fist to quiet him, but she waved him off. ¡°No worries friend, we¡¯re here for you. You heard the man, let¡¯s transport!¡±


    She moved the man forward a bit to demonstrate, and 29 helped by moving him on his side. The scene looked like a drunkard being paraded around by friends eager to get him home, which was not an unfamiliar sight in Gutworth. They were in a full on waddle now, and passed by Devon, recovering from the hit.


    Only a few steps into their transport, they saw figures approaching against the green horizon. There were seven of them, all wearing the masks of Lemure¡¯s Legacy.


    While their decoration was mostly uniform, a few had unique additions that reflected their higher rank. 31 recognized 40 immediately from his cocky grin and pompous stride which fit his custom helm. From a distance it looked like a featureless grey half mask that covered everything above his nose, but up close you could see the eight pinprick eyes arranged in a diamond pattern. The others were Numbers that she only knew from their connection to 40. The giant 32, the unpleasant 38, and lower Numbers that were too replaceable to learn anything on.


    40 was not likable, or charismatic, but his closeness to permanency gave him plenty of followers. Of course he had gotten the same message as she had. His rank meant he had received it earlier, and had had the time to attract quite a party.


    ¡°40! That''s odd,¡± she said, as soon as they were in speaking distance. ¡°We stand at the grave of 41, and yet you have not replaced them.¡± She wanted to gesture with her hands, but supporting the stranger made this difficult.


    ¡°Perhaps Morgan doesn¡¯t have confidence in him,¡± 29 said, turning to 31 for approval with a silly grin.


    40 did not bite, he looked down at the ground and slowly shook his head like a frustrated crywolf. ¡°You¡¯re so goddamn stupid, Lemsk.¡± That name again, she flinched. The head came up, the tiny holes in his mask burning red. ¡°You always have been.¡± His Numbers drew their Remarks.


    ¡°Right. We don¡¯t have time for this Dawren. You can look for 41¡¯s corpse, we grew bored of it. Us and our two reserve members here will leave you to it, best of luck.¡± She hoped this response would give them cover to leave, but no dice, the use of his name did not rankle him.


    40 and his gang took three large steps forward, surrounding them. He pointed at Adam, the man¡¯s tired eyes focusing on the hand. ¡°This is one of your reserves? He seems quite old for a ressy.¡±


    ¡°Oh he insisted on joining, had fond memories of the Deluge, believe it or not, he¡¯s on a trial run,¡± 31 said. 29 had to hoist Adam up behind his neck just to keep him from falling. He was muttering something neither cared to hear.


    ¡°12 saw only three of you leave.¡± A sheepish nod from a Number to his left.


    ¡°He lives on the outskirts, we met him out of town!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been following you this whole time. We know that never happened.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right! He was here when we arrived, begged to join us, seemed trustworthy enough.¡±


    ¡°We saw you pull him out of this rubble here.¡± 38 taunted with their remark, an epee that doubled as a telescope.


    ¡°That we did, this man is delirious, can barely comprehend, and we are planning to sell him on the body market for extra income.¡± Adams muttering took on a darker tone, obviously not happy.


    ¡°Interesting¡­¡± He placed a finger on his scruffy chin. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ so Grand damned interesting because, you know, 41¡¯s corpse is here. This very spot. And surely you know of the one they called Adam.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard he¡¯s caused a lot of trouble, but of his whereabouts I do not.¡± Adam was trying to wiggle out of their grip, but the two held onto him tightly. 40 took another step closer, passing by Devon, who was trying to act like she wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°Good thing I do.¡± His breath smelled like dead insects. ¡°He was last seen fighting 41, and if 41¡¯s corpse is in that pile, and that''s where you found this man¡­¡± he turned to his numbers and gave them a shrug.


    ¡°Well, in that case I guess it¡¯s a good thing we found him! We¡¯ll make sure to bring him to Morgan right away, a dangerous task, but we¡¯re already saddled with him, so I guess the burden of delivery goes to us.¡±


    With the stranger in the middle, the two walked urgently onward, hoping the numbers surrounding them would part. 40 got out his remark, a massive double sided blade so long that the end of it landed on 31¡¯s steel boots ten feet away. He was not looking at them anymore, as if they were beneath his notice.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t gotten the news then.¡± He waggled his wrist, she knew what was on it.


    ¡°The title of 41, and head of the Number Guard, will be given to whoever brings us Adam Kadmon, alive.¡± She took a protective position in front of the stranger.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know if it''s truly him.¡± She said, not liking the fear in her voice, impossible to obscure.


    ¡°And neither do you, but you¡¯re bringing him to the Constants anyway.¡± He sucked air through his teeth and sighed, running a hand through his golden locks. ¡°Do me a favor, leave him with me. I¡¯ll make you whatever number you want, maybe even set up a duel for you¡±


    ¡°41 never had that kind of power.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not like them,¡± 40 shouted, his voice disturbingly placid even as he ranted. ¡°I¡¯ll be able to do whatever I want. I¡¯m the one who brought Adam Kadmon straight to Morgan Lemure¡¯s lap. All of you are pawns to me.¡± He motioned to his Numbers on either side, who didn¡¯t seem to care. ¡°I¡¯ll move you all around how I see fit.¡±


    31 snorted, hating this type of grandstanding. ¡°Too bad you didn¡¯t find him first.¡±


    The circle closed in, all of his men sharing that same placid excitement, like they knew something 31 didn¡¯t. ¡°I have plenty of witnesses who will confirm otherwise.¡±


    There was only one option, one she was happy to take. ¡°Witnesses?¡± 31 raised her hand in the air, the intensity of the actions caused the numbers to laugh and ready their remarks¡­ but nothing happened. The others looked around confused, but none of them bothered to turn around, to see what was barreling towards them. Only 40 looked like he got it, like he understood her trick.


    Standing in front of her, he slyly let one of his numbers take his place. The kid was eager to impress, and stood tall where his better once stood. ¡°Alright doop, you¡¯re gonna put your hand down and-¡°


    A bladed stick, streaming through the sky on a trajectory a mile long, found its target. 31¡¯s Remark plowed through the kid¡¯s skull. His mask fell off first, followed by the contents of his head. It¡¯s Trick wasn¡¯t that it always came back, the Trick was that she could summon it from any distance, with any possible trajectory. With a giggle, 31 picked up her Remark and tossed it in the air like a kid playing with a ball.


    ¡°The duel has commenced!¡± someone shouted, and then there was violence.

 Chapter 8: The Primordial Itch

    Dawren, also known as Lemure 40, was born in a room that was not supposed to exist.


    To be clear, the room did exist, and Dawren was put there by parents he never knew when he was quite young. But according to the building plan it didn¡¯t. To the landlord it simply was not there. And if a man¡¯s home is his castle what¡¯s the point in arguing with the king?


    His parents made it by subdividing their living room. The walls were sealed immediately afterwards, leaving only a small slot for food and messages to be slid in. There was only one light, an artificial lamp affixed to the top of the room that rarely stayed on longer than a minute before plunging him into darkness for hours.


    With very little to occupy him, he tried to find things to do.


    Impulses to feed, you know. That primordial itch.


    He had a strange compulsion to create. At first he satisfied this by using his nails to scratch crude drawings into the walls, or smeared the floor with what remained of his meals. Eventually, he developed what he would call his hand magic. If he moved his hand a bit to the left, and thought in such a way, then a little piece of metal would appear on his hand. A metal which made the room darker, and made him feel safe when it was out.


    This was why he was put in the room in the first place. His parents were fascinated by Remarks, and debated the truthfulness of the Grand Council. They wanted to know whether such a powerful magic was really innate, or taught. Both had no fixed stance on this matter, and would have fun switching positions mid debate to keep each other on their toes. To get an answer they needed a subject, and there was an easy but time consuming way to get one for free. They had never considered it before but after a intense night of logistics they decided to have a child.


    In another life where such a position existed for them, they would have been scientists. Scientists without backing are labeled a menace, and they learned early on it was best to hide what they were doing.


    Over the years his eyes adapted. When the light was on it was a distraction. He eventually destroyed it with his funny hand magic, and then came a good ten years or so of incredible bliss. The darkness, the contradiction of being in a room whose constraints were invisible, an emptiness that made no difference to his eyes. Open or closed, he was home.


    Eventually his parents died, never to learn the outcome of their experiment. The food stopped coming. He would have expired if it wasn¡¯t for the scratching. Some of the town¡¯s guards were moving his parents corpses when they heard clawing in the walls. After a impromptu demolition, they found a boy on the other side, huddled in a corner and covering his eyes.


    The people who found him felt an obligation to sympathy. ¡°What those people did to you was awful!¡± And Dawren, for the first time in 19 years eating something that wasn¡¯t cheese and crackers, could not find it within him to disagree.


    Even as he came to realize leaving the room was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.


    Though one thing that was nice about the world was how dark it was. Not metaphorically, through Dawren certainly preferred when the limits to his world were four stucco walls, but literally. Even at noon things barely got brighter than a flickering street lamp, he rarely had to bring out his Remark for comfort, even if it was always effective as such. For the last few years Dawren had worn a helmet whose eye holes were filtered through the same color and substance as his obsidian black Remark, meaning he experienced the world through a horrifyingly beautiful darkness that even his child self would have found excessive. Dawren did not think one could have too much of a good thing, Dawren did not think that he would ever get what he truly deserved.


    Because what he deserved, once he had been taught the language and considered sane enough to hold down a job, was fucking everything. And this town couldn¡¯t hold fucking everything.


    But he would try to compromise.


    The too bright Lemsk kept throwing her Remark back and forth, back and forth. When he was dodging her and showing enough humility not to summon his own, that''s what he was doing. Compromising.


    Lemsk¡¯s speed and skill was just good enough to stop his men from rushing her as a group. Grand, that was another compromise. 14 turned out not to be the compromising type, he was a go getter, and threw himself at her in a move that was stupid but Dawren approved of the sheer moxie.


    The opening 14¡¯s death created allowed him to slip in and grab Adam. He slung him over his shoulder like a carpet and ran off laughing. Lemsk yelled something but was overtaken by the rest of his boys. They could fight over becoming Dawren¡¯s new favorite.


    He stopped close to a rock a girl was hiding behind, her bright silhouette cutting through the rocks dullness. Just a reserve member, no threat to him. He waved a hand in greeting through he knew she couldn¡¯t see it.


    How fun it was to be Dawren, he made life better simply by being there. Every town needed a him, every town needed a room. Let him itch all over the walls. What fun.


    He dropped Adam and turned his head to watch the two skirmishes. One on his right, one on his left. Neither was going after him, all too concerned with killing the others. Say, one more compromise. The only ones that mattered were him and the stranger, the one they called Adam. Upon him was a relaxed apathy. The itch had been scratched. He dropped himself right next to Adam, resting his butt on the sand as he wriggled next to him.


    ¡°Transport.¡± Adam said.


    ¡°Sure, buddy, sure.¡± For a rare moment Dawren questioned himself before deciding, fuck it, he had already won. He took off his helm, blinking with disgust at the unbearably bright world. It was weird to see things not through a lens of obsidian.


    He had resolved to never take his helm off until he became a Constant. One may argue it was premature, but victory was already assured. Just as he suspected, the world already looked a bit dimmer. He was gaining more pull over the world now. They said those in power could shape the world, and Dawren felt he was already doing so. Soon he would be able to see through objects without the aid of his helmet. Soon he would have everything. And the world would be in a darkness only bearable to him.


    ¡°Transport.¡± That dying man reached out a hand to Dawren¡¯s leg, in response he jerked up like he had been stung. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Excuse you! We¡¯re not moving, my friend. Can¡¯t you see there¡¯s a war going on?¡± A war that he would win no matter what. If his side won, they¡¯d continue as they had planned, return with Adam, become 41, upsell that to Constanthood, and become the Seventh of Lemure¡¯s personal guard. The itch scratched for good.


    No more shitty apartment with a heater that rarely worked, with windows that, try as he might, would never be fully taped over. Instead, he¡¯d get a room with no doors or windows, with only a single hole in the center if he ever needed to leave. The rest of his life could be spent in the dark.


    But if Lemsk and 29 won? He¡¯d still benefit. He¡¯d charm them with some groveling and beg to work under them. He could play subservient, he could make it believable. Then he¡¯d cut their throats and that would be that.


    The fight between Lemsk and his two men, 12 and 38, was turning. Lemsk had taken a risk and had made for a rush attack on 12, melee range. 12 was dead, so it must have paid off. He had only turned his head away for a second too.


    Now she and 38 were fighting dirty, their heat burning Dawren¡¯s retinas, the blaze from their Remarks grounded against each other as they wrestled in the sharp red sand. What a good pair they made, so even in strength, so even in brightness. Hopefully they¡¯d kill each other.


    A hand waved weakly, trying to get his attention. Oh great, not now. Adam¡¯s hand was cut down the middle and swayed in the wind when he moved it. It disgusted Dawren, one of many reasons light was unnecessary, some things didn¡¯t deserve to be seen. He turned his head and drummed his fingers to a private melody. What was going on with 29? He knew he had known his name once, but could not remember it.


    29 was faring worse, but Grand if the kid couldn¡¯t fight. They had pushed him to the wall of the cliff, but he was wiley and kept shimmying to the side, somehow finding again and again an avenue to escape, even as he remained trapped on the wall. 32, his Remark massive, only had to hit once, but 29 was getting his cuts in when he could. Both 29 and the other number were bloody, the fight was like a battle between pest control and the world''s most annoying animal.


    The sound of Adam¡¯s gnarled hands clawing at the sand. ¡°Transport, please.¡±


    ¡°In a second!¡± He shouted, turning his head the other direction. ¡°Can¡¯t you see they¡¯re-¡±


    26, their mask dangling from their left ear as they barreled forward, had abandoned the fight and was running straight to him. They waved their arms up and down, blood from a fresh wound flinging out with the motion.


    32, the biggest man at Dawren¡¯s disposal, was now alone and without backup. 29 had taken the opportunity to bolt as well, and was running towards Lemsk. CrawlCow shit it was going topside. He was tired of taking compromises.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± The kid burned in fear. His eyes two burning orbs streaming down his cheeks with light.


    ¡°You need to help, I got hurt real bad and-¡°


    ¡°Help? Sure I¡¯ll help.¡± He smiled wide. With a slowness, the kid smiled back. ¡°You¡¯re relieved of your duties,¡± Dawren said.


    He always closed his eyes when he did it and he did it on instinct. It was his Primordial Itch and he knew scratching it was different from a Remark. Something original. It didn¡¯t work if he looked, he had to close his eyes and made the world dark. The kid¡¯s screams gave him a picture better than vision ever could.


    He opened his eyes to a not quite disemboweled body, thankfully far duller and easier to look at. Everything had cooled off. The red sand was now a relaxed dark red, the covered sky in shades no brighter than gray. The duo of Lemsk and her lackey were winning, but that didn¡¯t matter. The world was turning down the lights. When he ascended to being a Constant, the world would become one big room where he could see nothing at all.


    Dawren sighed and ran coarse fingers through his thick blond hair, satisfied like¡­ satisfied like nothing else, really. It truly scratched the itch. ¡°Sorry about that. I¡¯m better now. Where were we, you needing transport right? I guess I can take you after all.¡± With a snap he turned back to Adam


    Who was staring down at him, he didn¡¯t realize the man was this tall, when had he gotten up? In the wretch¡¯s hand was a Remark but¡­ it didn¡¯t feel like a Remark. It felt more real than a Remark, like his Itch but, it made even his Itch seem illusionary.


    ¡±Transport?¡± Dawren said, feeling uncomfortably hot all of a sudden. ¡°I can give you transport. Thats what you want¡­ right?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± Adam said, raising his Remark. ¡°not from you.¡±


    Dawren found that the afterlife was bright.


    .


    .


    .


    Devon huddled next to a hunk of rock, concerned about nothing else but preserving her own life. She heard a scream, then the sound of something wet hitting the other side of her hiding place. Someone died, but was it her side, or the other? Did it really matter? As long as she could get back to her shitty apartment and her shitty bed, and have another night of terrible sleep, she¡¯d be happy.


    Boy, when she put it like that, her life sounded pathetic.


    She scooted up to the rock and got into a runners stance, keeping herself small and quiet, but in a position to bolt. Being in situations where her best option was to hide and hope people forgot she was involved came easy to her. She had a lot of practice.


    She dug her fingers into coarse sand and screamed silently. It didn¡¯t make it any better, it didn¡¯t make it easier.


    Among the ambient shouts and yells around her, she heard a scraping beyond her rock. She stayed silent. Whoever it was was moving slow, and groaning.


    When a pale bloody hand grasped the rock she gave up on it as a hiding spot.


    With a involuntary ¡°fuck¡± she backpedaled and did an awkward somersault onto the ground, landing flat on her face. The surviving combatants were too busy amongst themselves to notice the tiny little girl who had just made a complete ass of herself.


    Wiping the specks of sand that clung to her face, she looked up to see Adam. The one who had become infamous in 24 hours, the one who some claimed would destroy the Grand entirely.


    He was staring at her upside down from the top of the rock. His mouth gaping open and closed like a fish as his arms fell from the rock and sunk into the ground. Every breath seemed like a struggle.


    Behind him stood the legs of Dawren. Just the legs, the rest of his body had been sliced off and laid in the sand already half buried, evoking a bust from some long ago empire.


    ¡°Transport¡­¡± He said, the words so urgent it made Devon anxious.


    ¡±Um, okay,¡± Devon said. ¡°Yeah, we can- we can do that. Sure.¡±


    ¡±Transport¡­?¡± He said it again. What, did he not believe her?


    ¡±I mean if we escape here with our lives than yeah dude, yeah!¡± Devon said, risking raising her voice. ¡°I¡¯ll take you anywhere you want to go. Just- for right now.¡± She put a finger to her lips, the universal sign for ¡°please shut the fuck up¡±


    There was no way she could guarantee such a promise, but it was better to have the guy who could slice torsos on your side.


    Adam smiled wide and he allowed himself to finally rest. His eyes closed and his hands sunk in even deeper, and he let out the first breath in her presence that didn¡¯t seem forced. Something important to him had finally been resolved. After a moment he seemed to fall asleep, his heart rate slowing considerably.


    As the sounds of bloodshed got closer, Devon took hold of one of his limp hands and gripped it like death, waiting like she often did for the violence to stop.

 Chapter 9: Casket Man Not Needed

    Years ago, bodies washed up on the red sand of Gutworth. Surprisingly preceding a shipwreck, instead of following it, the bodies all wore life jackets. The irony was lost on a young Devon. She assumed the strangely bulbous rubber clothing they wore was simply the fashion of choice in Luminescia. She didn¡¯t understand the way their bodies had discolored and changed, becoming bloated and an icy blue. Surely that wasn¡¯t in fashion. Her father had snatched her away from the scene only moments after they had arrived. She asked her father why they had ran, why they hadn¡¯t helped the strange beached people.


    Her father replied tersely that they were beyond help. Through for the next few nights, her father would go out to the shore and dig graves, only stopping once all were buried.


    Staring up at the killer known as Adam, lying on a rock with his eyes closed, he looked so very much like those corpses.


    At that moment one of 40¡¯s men had crossed the distance and was heading for them. She ran and he changed his trajectory. Hurdling over the rock Adam basked on like he was beneath his notice. The Number caught her mid-trip, manhandling her but being surprisingly gentle about it. He picked her up like a niece he hadn¡¯t seen in years, but the Remark at her throat kept the embrace from being too comfortable.


    Devon was pinned against his chest. Her captor¡¯s rapidfire heartbeat was competing with his Remark to see which would kill her first. The 38 on his neck bulged and writhed faster than his jaw could keep up with.


    ¡°Everyone stop!¡± he yelled. 31 stuck her remark into 32 while 29 held calmly onto the giant''s back, adjusting his feet so that he could stand on the pierced through Remark.


    ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s up?¡± 31 said, not concerned that Devon was seconds away from death. She would have been furious if this wasn¡¯t so expected. As dream dust dealers went, she was replaceable. Grand, there were seven other dealers in her apartment complex alone. She knew because they always saw each other on dream dust supply ones, and it was never not awkward.


    The hands that held her prisoner were sweaty and getting sweatier. She didn¡¯t trust this guy to keep a good grip on his Remark. The spike wave-like edges of it were strangely malleable. It seemed to strain to get closer to her, distorting and wiggling in ways blades just couldn¡¯t do. The man gulped comically before speaking ¡°Here¡¯s how this goes down.¡±


    Before he could explain, 31 ripped her remark out of 32, killing him outright. She threw it with hatred at the hostage taker¡¯s wide open mouth. His upper face was removed from the rest of him, now an open cavity. Looking up at him, Devon had the misfortune of comprehending this.


    Now covered in brain matter, she struggled out of the Numbers cold hands. The image of his topless lower jaw refused to exit her mind.


    She fell to the ground shaking.


    31 sauntered up to her, far too perky in this field of the dead. She did a twirl and made her bloody dress skirt spin.


    ¡±Well well ressie, you weren¡¯t supposed to survive! Guess it does pay to be short.¡± She held out a hand lazily.


    ¡°Fuck you.¡± Devon checked her face to make sure there weren¡¯t any fresh wounds. Outside of a thick spray of blood on her right side, she was fine. Sliding down from the rock, Adam skirted towards her with the surprising speed of a crawlcow put a hand on her shoe. She panicked and kicked him away.


    ¡°Oh come off it, Ressy. You¡¯re alive, and so is our meal ticket.¡± She hoisted Adam up on her shoulders, carrying him much like one would carry the corpse of an animal. His hands reached out for Devon, but she kept him out of range intentionally, starting triumphantly back for home.


    It¡¯s just adrenaline, Devon thought, jealous at 31¡¯s strength. She didn¡¯t know what separated her from 31, but it was a gulf that felt insurmountable. She had tried training before, learning the drills the Legacy did and trying her hand at them, but she became winded after only a few reps, and demotivated when two weeks passed with nothing to show from it but a sore back and zero energy.


    ¡°Remember how she thought we couldn¡¯t see her behind that tiny mound?¡± 31 said, laughing all the way back to Gutworth. Her neck number strangely hadn¡¯t changed.


    ¡°She thinks small, so something like that little rock must have seemed ginormous.¡±


    ¡°Agreed!¡± Devon said, a little too joyously. She tried to seem agreeable until she could go home, scream into her pillow, and have a nice warm bath. She had enough orbits to afford it this week.


    From his perch on 31¡¯s back Adam¡¯s head was turned upside down. He made a smile that looked like a frown.


    She smiled back. It was a hesitant smile that dropped back down as soon as his tired eyes had turned away.


    In her mind, even though it was foolish, she pictured having a remark strong enough to cut, and all the different ways she would slice 31 to pieces.


    .


    .


    .


    ¡°What''s to be done with a corpse on the cobblestone?¡± Adam was being moved to and fro, puppeteered by the now very high 29 and 31.


    ¡°What''s to be done with a cobblestone?¡± He was barely conscious, at this rate he¡¯d be a corpse himself in minutes. They careened his body to the foot of Devon¡¯s bed, and dropped him on the floor as they scream sang the line ¡°Let the Casket Man dump him in the sea!¡±


    The three had rented a room at a terrible hotel. After indulging in the dream dust (even allowing Devon a sniff. She never got to have a sniff), they had played games with Adam, games that always seemed to end with him getting knocked around or dropped. They seemed very lax about keeping him alive.


    The man, despite the skill she had seen him used on 40, seemed content to let them have their fun. She felt pity for him, despite his reputation. But what crime was it really to kill a few Numbers? If she was able to, she would have done the same.


    29 lifted Adam¡¯s head up. ¡°Looks like he had one too many to drink,¡± he said, his nostrils flaring erratically.


    31 ruffled his slimy hair. ¡°Nothing a bit of bed rest won¡¯t fix. Let''s get him up there.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    With a heave and a ho, they lifted his body and dumped him sprawled on her bed. She was already curled up at the head of the bed, but she went to lengths to make her body smaller. ¡°Transport¡­¡± he said again. 29 and 31 were trying out a drunken jig. They didn¡¯t notice.


    He reached a hand out for her and she held her breath, silently pleading with him to put it down. With a sigh It fell limp to the floor and she could breathe again.


    31 spoke with surprising conviction. ¡°Devon, you¡¯ve been a really big help.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a real big help,¡± 29 said, his toadiness undermining her.


    ¡°Since you¡¯ve been such a big help¡­¡±


    ¡°And since we¡¯ll very soon gain the authority to do so¡­¡±


    ¡°We want to make you a Number.¡±


    Devon didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡±You¡¯ve been a Ressy far too long.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll probably start at 1.¡±


    ¡°But that''s okay, because you¡¯ll move up super fast once this hold¡¯s been removed.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the only reason we haven¡¯t become 40 and 41 yet.¡±


    She didn¡¯t say anything.


    They turned to each other and nodded, pleased with this.


    ¡°Great! We¡¯ll call Daaz, through you¡¯ll have to get your smart veins inserted to make it official.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ll get power from joining us.¡± 29 said. ¡°You¡¯ll finally have a Remark worth respecting. What¡¯s it supposed to be, anyway, a fish?¡±


    It was a representation of the last fish her father ever caught. Sometimes it sang to her in his voice.


    ¡°Not any fish. A dead one.¡±


    They left the room laughing, and Devon was alone.


    Alone with Adam, a man who had killed half a dozen in roughly four hours.


    His body smelled like sulfur. They sat in silence for a period too long to enjoy and too short to get used to. Right when it seemed like he had fallen asleep or passed on, his neck turned to her with a crack. Barely there eyes stared at her with a intense passivity, his mouth open slightly. Devon stopped herself from screaming.


    ¡°Capacity,¡± he said, ¡°I request transport.¡±


    Devon could only blink. She moved her eyes to the door. Like all the doors in this hotel had been programmed to do, they had closed automatically when 29 and 31 left.


    ¡°What is the matter, Capacity? Do you not recognize me?¡± He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace., She kept glancing to the door, moving only her eyes. ¡°No, you wouldn¡¯t have, it¡¯s been¡­ three bodies since you¡¯ve last seen me. I¡¯ve been so many people. I see you¡¯ve stayed the same. Not in all ways I hope.¡± He tried to laugh, but it came out as a dry cough that sounded painful. ¡°A little humor¡­ despite our differences it is good to¡­ no, maybe it¡¯s not.¡± His mouth drooled slightly. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong here.¡±


    Devon backed up to the edge of the bed, and then propped herself up until she was nearly standing. Adam simply stared, seeming to lack the energy to do anything else.


    ¡°What?¡± she said, her voice came out as a squeak.


    ¡°It¡¯s me. Capacity, how can you not-¡± and he stopped. The expression that moved its way across his face was in the neighborhood of ashamed. ¡°No. You¡¯re not her. Of course, you can¡¯t be.¡± He sighed, like air leaving an open coffin. ¡°Though you do have her face.¡± His brow narrowed, considering that. ¡°Why do you have her face?¡±


    The first question she could answer. ¡°I¡­ fell into the shifting waters seven years ago. When I came out I looked like this.¡± She didn¡¯t mention that it wasn¡¯t an accident, that she jumped in in hopes that she would either die or be reborn as a different person with no memories of her life before. She got half of her wish, changing her gender and physically becoming something she honestly preferred, but her memories were still intact, even if her weakness frustrated her daily. She was still herself. And her father¡¯s death still lived in her skull, no matter how much she tried to forget.


    His look in response was inscrutable.


    ¡°I¡­ require¡­ transport,¡± he said.


    The door opened again and a hand lazily stuck in an ear attached to a pole. ¡°Devon, say hi!¡± came the voice of 31.


    Devon said hi. The door closed again. She turned back.


    Adam was now staring straight at her, his face inches away. This time she didn¡¯t stifle her scream.


    ¡°I require transport,¡± he said again. The request now seemed more like a demand. ¡°Can you help-¡± His jaw unhinged, he fiddled with it for a few moments before getting it back into place. ¡°Can you help me?¡±


    No, she couldn¡¯t. Devon looked around the room frantically, as if 31 would suddenly appear again and become responsible for this situation. Trying to back away even more she fell off the bed, the pillow she clutched unfortunately not under her. From a vantage point five feet below and upside down, she saw the withered face of Adam come into frame.


    ¡°Transport.¡±


    She scrunched her face up, holding the pillow in front of her. ¡°No, please.¡±


    No response. She was too scared to lower it, what if he decided to end her life right here? Even in the strange state he was in, he had that power. Devon squeezed her hands tight, and felt something cold and clammy slip between her fingers and the pillow.


    A creaking on the bed, it sounded like he turned away. Opening her eyes confirmed it, that was not surprising. What was was the object that fell out of her hand with a wet thud.


    A Remark. Her Remark! She hadn¡¯t summoned it in a month. It looked¡­ rotted. More so than usual. A fly buzzed half heartedly around the still blinking eye, it was unclear whether the fly was an effect of the remark, or had come in from the open window. Maybe it was part of its Trick, but fuck having the time or energy to find out.


    ¡°You have a weak¡­ remark.¡± He said it as a fact. ¡°This does not make you weak, but by the terms of our society.¡± his jaw fell off. ¡°You are nothing.¡±


    Somehow she still heard his voice. A cold metal flew into her hand. It was his Remark moving on its own. ¡°I am a strong remark, as judged by this world, although I do not wish to be. I require transport.¡± He, or it, spoke more fluently now. He was communicating to her through his mind, a weak connection, but Devon could feel it in her. A stranger in her brain. It was¡­ not as unpleasant as she would have thought.


    And he was a Remark. Somehow.


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m the right person for this- I don¡¯t know how to fight.¡± But she always wanted to learn. ¡°I¡¯m not intimidating.¡± Although she often wished she was. ¡°And I¡¯ve never killed anyone.¡± Yet she had a list made up in her mind.


    ¡°All of that,¡± Adam said, his body now slumped over the bed, in a similar position to how he had been on the rock. ¡°Makes you perfect.¡±


    His Remark, no, he himself, pulsed with new life and rose up, hovering in front of Devon. A handshake waiting to be reciprocated. She reached out.


    *tap* *tap* In unison, Devon and the Remark turned to an oval windows on the far wall. There was a Number there, hands drumming on the glass, the yawning black mouth on the mask a one way trip to a bottomless void.


    ¡°Hello there,¡± he said, and undid the latch on his side. As the glass circle slid up, a smoking ball of cloth was tossed into the room. ¡°I¡¯ll come in through the front door,¡± he said, voice now muffled, and then the smoke consumed them.

 chapter 10: What Eternity Means To Me

    ¡°I never fucking knew that.¡±


    Trav was deep in the shits, riding a high that never seemed to peak. Infinity music was playing on the sound box. It had come with the room. Lemsk was pouring rubbing alcohol on it, seeing if it affected the structure of the boxes compositions in any meaningful way.


    ¡°Yeah, sad to say. It took me so long to live it down. They made me a Reserve member for three years because of it.¡± She said. Right before the bottle ran out, she flipped it right side and drank the last few drops. In response the box grew insect like legs and scuttled away, hiding itself in a dark corner behind the mini fridge. The music was muffled now but otherwise unchanged. ¡°I¡¯m six years your senior.¡±


    There was a subtle darkness to the notes the box was playing. Some eerie staccato in 5/4 with drums that came in and out heavy like the tide. Lemsk hummed along and laughed when she inevitably outpaced the machine. ¡°I don¡¯t really remember a time we didn¡¯t run this city.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t even grow up here, didn¡¯t you say that before?¡± Trav said.


    Lemsk threw the now empty bottle out a circular window. The iris opened and dilated automatically, but was a second too quick, and the pieces of glass broke on the glow in the dark carpet.


    ¡°No I did, I think the leader of Lemure¡¯s Legacy should be someone born and raised here, don¡¯t you think.¡± She sniffed some more of the dream dust and fell to the ground. ¡°Mmmm, I can feel the rug breathing.¡±


    Trav was feeling far too sober. ¡°Head of Number isn¡¯t exactly leader.¡±


    ¡°You still believe we¡¯ll get that pittance?¡± She gestured to the closed room that held their prize. ¡°No, getting this guy has become the Legacy¡¯s ultimate goal, I think it¡¯s the reason they were founded in the first place.¡±


    Trav knew better than to question her when she got like this. Which was often. ¡°It¡¯ll be nice to have more respect.¡±


    ¡°All of it, and don¡¯t act like we deserve a bit less.¡± Lemsk held herself tight and breathed deep. ¡°Grand, it¡¯s like the city¡¯s screaming our name.¡± She stopped talking and her face went blank. ¡°Arrest me, I have sinned, Serach I am unworthy.¡±


    ¡°Thats the drugs talking, you probably got someone with a lot of guilt, seeing the world from their perspective.¡± Trav stared up at the ceiling, there was a projection going that he didn¡¯t remember putting on. ¡°Who¡¯s Serach anyway?¡± He thought he had heard the name before. It could have been written on the side of the Helot, that massive tower of a woman that stood deep in the placid sea.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not saying Serach, it¡¯s screaming my name.¡± She held her arms out and repeated what was in her head. ¡°Morgan, Morgan, Morgan. See just like that.¡±


    The projection stopped, the room produced a melodic tone. Someone was at the door.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get it.¡± Who else was going to after all? The less interaction he had with Devon the better.


    He slid the door open a crack. There was a dark skinned man wearing a clean outfit. Probably worked for the hotel, though Trav hadn¡¯t seen any of the hotel staff outside of the lady with the white brick, and she was dressed nowhere near this nice.


    The man grinned broadly and waved. Shadows around him signified others. Trav had definitely seen him before but he couldn''t place where.


    ¡°Hello there, is this the residence of an Harold Pinter?¡± The man said jovenly.


    Wrong room. Nothing to worry about. ¡°No, this isn¡¯t-¡°


    ¡°It¡¯s the Suite of your new kings!¡± Lemsk yelled from across the floor, her voice by no means muffled. Trav had to wince.


    ¡±Sorry. Um, thats my wife, she¡¯s just-¡°


    ¡°Oh that¡¯s great, congratulations! And who might you be?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to answer that.¡± He kept his grip firm.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell us, we¡¯ll be out of your hair soon.¡± The smiling man treated this all as a passing amusement, despite the force of his hand trying to pull the door back further. ¡°Unless¡­ you are Mr. Harold.¡±


    ¡°Trav and Lemsk, motherfuckers extraordinaire!¡± Lemsks sudden outburst popped the tension like a balloon. The shadows around the man disappeared, his pressure disappeared.


    ¡°Confirmation. Exactly what I needed. Thank you for your time, you won¡¯t see me again.¡± Licking his lips, he turned away and the door closed with an audible bang.


    ¡°That was rude, he was going to offer us more drugs.¡±


    ¡°No he wasn¡¯t.¡± Trav went over to their supply and sprinkled some fresh stuff in his eyelids. ¡°That man didn¡¯t even work at the hotel.¡±


    ¡°Who was he, then?¡±


    ¡°I recognized his voice, I think-¡° He wrinkled his nose, disappointed in the following statement, ¡°I think he works for us?¡±


    ¡°Another Number?¡±


    Before Lemsk could reply, a circular disc of the ceiling fell to the ground. A large gentleman followed through the negative space. He had a Remark made of saw teeth and pain. It was a terrible thing to encounter while high.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    .


    .


    .


    ¡°I hope you enjoy eternity.¡±


    Adam hit the glass hard, leaving a cut right where the Numbers face had been seconds ago. Something inside the ball was scratching to get out. His Remark form shook. ¡°Quickly, you need to confirm our agreement, it¡¯s the only-¡°


    And then the ball burst open, purple smoke that flamed red forced itself into Devon. And then she was no longer Devon.


    ¡±I hope you enjoy eternity.¡±


    She was a soldier in the great deluge, marching alongside a platoon of her fellows as water poured down endlessly from leaking machines with innards that flashed red. Her company was spotless. Their remarks all immaculate and only days old. They were marching in a circle, and she didn¡¯t know why, the sun was bright and bathed everything in a comforting red light. Maybe it¡¯s not a bad idea to walk around endlessly. A giant burdenbeast sprung down from a cliff face and barreled into the carousel of soldiers. She was crushed under the weight of thousands of bodies crashing into her her last thought was


    I


    am different now, she reminded herself, not fated to do nothing with her life, now she¡¯d make her name through murder. She was a different soldier, in a different land. The sky was blue and infinite. There were bombs in the sky and the ground was filled with flailing limbs. She felt the strangest impulse to simply sit and watch. It was truly a beautiful sight. A man who seemed to be their leader floated up in the air and sliced a bomb in half. The two sides broke off and crushed resting soldiers, falling to the ground far slower than they should have. She looked down and saw she was sitting on a blanket. it was like a picnic. No, she was sitting on a tapestry of a machine, white lines on baby blue. Blue like the sky, the sky flickered when she looked up again, it wasn¡¯t blue now it was void with faint tubes circling up forever. Someone was on fire and she could not discern the uniform from underneath the flame, so she did not know how to feel. But she had to


    Hope


    it would be over soon. She was stabbing a man barely older than she was with a Remark. Aware she was responsible, but absent of any control, the Remark was flicking in and out of existence, she knew this made it more painful for him. A woman with a body out of proportion with the rest of the scene stuck a massive hand on her shoulder. At first she thought this was a plea for her to stop, but then the larger woman guided Devon¡¯s shaking hand, and shoved it in to the man¡¯s stomach once more. They were doing this for a crowd, a band was playing near them. The singer crooned, ¡°


    You


    have been found guilty of pacifism,¡± a voice said, she was staring down a Death Wyrm. She fell into the open mouth and now she was in its bowels. The glints of remarks flashed in the dark chamber of its stomach. A man tripped into a small puddle of bile, and dissolved into a fine mist. The person chasing him was despondent, and wandered off until she couldn¡¯t see him behind a massive pulsing structure that might have been a heart. She raised a heavy remark to an opponent, cornered on the wall, but then stopped. She checked his pulse, despite his strange twitching, he was dead. He was not leaning against the flesh, but being consumed by it. Tendrils reached out and they bit through her skin suit with newly birthed teeth. For some reason she knew she would


    Enjoy


    being the last soldier in the last war of the Deluge. Her opponent was a being clad in armor long ago melted. Their attire was assymetrical to a point of repulsion. Only one eye was visible beneath the metal wreckage and it endlessly dilated. Devon hated this being more than anyone she ever hated. They fought on a tiny fraction of plaster in a sea of negative space, below them were green rapids, frighteningly real. They were not using remarks, simply fists. It felt simpler, cutting out the middleman like this. Every hit did nothing but bloody her knuckles, but she could not shake the adrenaline she felt, the raw rush of accomplishment. Devon felt like she finally had a purpose. Even when the platform crumbled, and the two fell into


    Eternity


    ¡°Which fights did you get?¡±


    Devon came to. For a second she didn¡¯t know who she was. The previous hallucinations felt no different from now. A body above her, she thought it was Adam before but it was just a puppet.


    The Wyrm mask glided towards her, their body only a suggestion amidst the purple fog. ¡°I gave you a really nice one, a good five from primary sources, double that taken from second hand accounts. They may have been mushed together, they¡¯re not all accurate but they sure feel like they are. They get to the heart of it. It¡¯s what those drugs you push are made of, just at a higher potency. How do you like the real thing?¡±


    The man talked more than he needed to. Her eyes darted under the bed. The Remark was there, glowing faintly. That was Adam.


    The Lemure stooped to her level and took hold of Devon¡¯s hand. She didn¡¯t resist. Her remark, the useless one, slipped from her fingers, and vanished as he bought it to his chest. His mask simply stared at the empty hand for a very long time. He got back up. ¡°You can die kneeling, or die on your feet. It makes no difference to me.¡±


    Devon looked under the bed again. The Remark that was Adam was glowing a blinding red. Words were flowing into her head as easily as blood.


    ¡°Doyoutakemyremarkasyourownandgrantmeaccestoyourbodyandmindwhenyouneedmegrantingyoumypowerinreturnforthistransportation,¡± her own lips mouthed the words, she repeated them silently faster and faster. Doubling over as the Remark that was Adam shook at the same rate.


    The Lemure waved his remark in front of her face, annoyed that she was causing a scene by not causing one. ¡°Something going on in there? Come on, it¡¯s not fun for me if you¡¯re not here. What I gave you wasn¡¯t that crazy, you shouldn¡¯t be-¡°


    Her eyes snapped up and her gaze shut him up. She was unconcerned. Her mind was clear. Gazing up at a scared little drug addict wearing a cheap mask. She felt like that final soldier, about to end the war.


    ¡°Yes. I accept, till the Curtain falls down.¡±


    The Remark that was Adam rocketed out of the bed and connected with Devon¡¯s hand, already in motion.


    She was fluid and methodical in her movement, using surprising strength to sucker punch the Lemure in the side with the blunt end of her Remark and then holding him with her free hand, she put his body under her like she was leading a dance. There was no shaking as she cut her way across the mask and the face under it. The cut was straight, and ten inches thick. Devon saw the face as the mask fell, he was a dull looking guy, with a flat nose and curly black hair.


    She expected regret, she didn¡¯t feel regret.


    The cut was horizontal to his mouth, so his whole lower face opened in a comical overexageration of a smile. His tongue fell out, followed by blood and chunks of flesh that had been sliced free from the mouth¡¯s walls. His pupils were trying their best to escape, running rampant around his eyes. He was searching the room for an explanation. She gave him one in the form of Adam, now her Remark, shoved through his forehead. She only realized this was a bad idea when it came time to pull it out. It took her more effort than she wanted to expend.


    Outside, sounds of screaming continued, coupled with the sound of a circular saw.


    Standing up from her murder, Devon stretched, closed her eyes tightly, and then threw up.


    It would not be the last time.

 Chapter 11: Stressed Test

    ¡°The two of you are my best guys, you know that?¡±


    33, given name Trevor Doubtful, did not say anything. It wasn¡¯t like him to speak, even when spoken to. Doubly so when someone like Montanna was prodding it.


    Montanna, the Number who refused to be called by his rank. He never wore the uniform, just a cheap suit and a forced smile. A hatred for him Trevor had.


    25 nodded so hard he gasped for air, ¡°Why I¡¯m honored 35, I truly am. You know, you¡¯re my idol in a lot of ways.¡± Trevor would have rolled his eyes, but what would have been the point. None of them could see his eyes beneath his false ones. His remark was heavy in his hand, even if no one could see it.


    They were standing in front of the room that belonged to those they would soon kill. Montanna looked straight at Trevor and gave him ¡°I hate you¡± eyes. ¡°There should be three targets, not including dear Adam. Which will you tango?¡±


    He was giving him first pick. Now that was an honor. He gripped tighter on his Remark, old blisters flared up anew. ¡°The Remainder girl. Her brother was never punished.¡±


    ¡°He was, karmically. I don¡¯t think his soul is doing him any favors.¡± Montanna said, his voice contorting into a laugh at the end. A small hand slapped on his much larger back. ¡°But that¡¯s not an issue. You can dance with her, as long as it¡¯s fatal.¡±


    Why would I do anything else? He thought. There was a consistency to Montanna¡¯s words, the man always seemed to be implying things he would never dare speak aloud. It frustrated Trevor but the mask of the Wyrm hid his true feelings.


    Now the smiling con man was opening the door. He talked to one on the other side. Montanna¡¯s charm was short, but that wasn¡¯t Trevor¡¯s problem. The sound of the Remainder girl, so high and mighty, was his cue.


    He walked away and up the stairs, 25 would soon do the same in the opposite direction. 25 flashed a smoke bomb of some sort and made a v with his black fingers. Yes, do what you have to do.


    He went to the room they had rented. It was right above where Adam sat. Using the keycard to get in, he half expected occupants. There were none.


    Now it was safe to bring his Remark out, coming up like being pulled from a river. He clawed her through the walls. His Remark¡¯s head a circle with endlessly spiraling teeth, orbiting the center like a float rat orbiting light. Their innards were green and filled with sparks. He created absence.


    Putting an ear to the floor, he moved his head slowly till their mumbled ramblings were the loudest. He traced the hole with his finger first, a nervous habit that accomplished nothing outside of ritual and its neccisity.


    The circle was pushed, and it made a hole. With confused eyes the two lower Numbers looked up at him, their faces struck with disbelief.


    It would be a tight fit, but his Trick made it so he would always fit at the expense of his shape, but he always found a way to put himself back to normal.


    A large white and red orb does not register as human. The whole scene was surreal, like a ball being put into a slot for some elaborate game. The ball landed with a thud, cracking the harsh metal floor and putting an end to the playful projections. His arms came out, revealing the ball to be a thing with digits.


    With a lazy shrug he rolled onto his left side and took out a chunk of the screaming mans corresponding shoulder. The man has an axe as his remark but he won¡¯t see it be used. Come here, he grabs him. The blows on his back alarm his brain, but his fingers are well practiced and maintain a firm grip, a little off the top. He¡¯s a better barber than a murderer, he thought, it¡¯s good that he had options in case this didn¡¯t work out.


    ¡­


    Bent over the toilet, she threw up until she couldn¡¯t anymore.


    Because, she literally couldn¡¯t.


    ¡±I¡¯ve adjusted your gag reflexes.¡± Adam said, buzzing in her brain. ¡°By adjusting your gut biome first. Which was tricky, but there¡¯s an impressive amount of maturation and changes you can make within seconds just by changing stomach acid levels.¡±


    It felt like she was choking. They had crawled out of the bedroom and ran towards the bathroom. Locking it behind her on instinct. There was someone killing the others. He was a massive man with a mask comically small, his bloated moon like face leaked out around the edges as he tore through 29¡¯s scalp. That was all she saw before she closed the door and felt the bile pushing its way back up.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I can sense your panic.¡± Adam¡¯s Remark, no, Adam himself buzzed cheerfully over to her. ¡°Let me help with that¡±


    A cool blueness surged through her, coating her body with placidity. ¡°Oh. You¡¯re-¡° It didn¡¯t feel right ethically, she had agreed to Adam becoming her Remark but she didn¡¯t really know what that entailed, but it was hard to think what with how calm and at ease she suddenly felt. ¡°Is there a way to like¡­ mellow it out a bit?¡± She laughed, mellow out the mellow. That was funny. Outside 31 was making a sound that was the vocal equivalent of tearing cardboard.


    ¡­


    ¡°29 is dead¡± This fact appeared on the Remainder girls veins as she stared at the corpse. She stood up and silently retrieved her remark, before desummoning it. He desummoned his own, wanting this to be a fair duel. The blood from the back had dripped over to his hands. Her remark must have gone straight through. Trevor didn¡¯t understand why or how he was still standing. They were fighting melee style now, a unspoken agreement Trevor didn¡¯t bother to break. He had to favor his right side because his left was seizing up, his greater size and strength proved useful to overcome this, and he considered a reality with only one useable hand with an assuredness.


    He contorted his arm so it was wrapped tightly behind him, it was just dead weight. She screamed, they always screamed, there was something about him that was distinctively terrifying. Maybe it was his mask, tiny but with painted bulging eyes taking up all available space.


    In combination with his infinite flexibility, he could see, in a detached sort of way, how terrifying that could be.


    ¡­


    ¡±They¡¯re still fighting out there.¡±


    ¡°I can hear them.¡± She whispered, sufficiently mellow but not too mellowed. She was huddled in a basin in the bathroom, staring at her hands. There was something different about them, but it was hard to tell what due to all the blood. ¡°What do we do?¡± They had checked the window and found it opened to concrete. ¡°We¡¯re fucked. We¡¯re so¡­¡±. She calmed herself with deep breaths. Adam wasn¡¯t the only one who could lower her anxiety. Her heart was still beating like the fear of death.


    Okay, he was admittedly better.


    ¡±Hey Adam, I know what I said before, but could you increase the mellow a bit?¡± Something big slammed into the adjoining wall. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m currently busy optimizing you, through my options are regrettably limited.¡±


    ¡±What?¡± She didn¡¯t like the sound of that, but a full body shivered pulsed through her all the same. Maybe she did.


    ¡±I¡¯m making it easier for me to trigger your reflexes, to have control of your appendages in real time and hand eye coordination thats as proficient as possible. I can guide your movement .¡±


    It sounded like he was describing a automobile. With just a little bit of touching up, this Devon can get so many miles. She giggled. Okay yeah she was a little mellow still.


    ¡±Stick your hand out quickly¡±


    There was a crash outside and she tried to ignore it. The door was dead bolted and maybe they didn¡¯t even know she was here.


    She slid her hand down on the blue tinged marble and spread the fingers out. Adam in his Remark body floated up and she grabbed him in the other hand. ¡°So what¡¯s up?¡± She wasn¡¯t fully free of nerves, but they were far away and irrelevant.


    ¡°This is called a stress test, I apologize in advance for any injuries.¡±


    ¡±What are you WOAH¡± Without warning the hand gripping Adam sprung into life and danced with glee around her fingers. It was a game she had seen sailors and fishermen playing, showing off their speed and finesse through the medium of a knife, seeing how long they could go without stabbing themselves.


    This was that on five times speed. She felt the breeze of Adam as he moved from empty space to empty space, leaving marks in the floor but her fingers miraculously scar free. She had no control over the movements, it was all Adam, puppeteering her body as she moved his Remark form. All she had to do was keep her other hand still. It was almost relaxing.


    Then she twitched and he hit flesh.


    ¡­


    Oh, she did something to his leg. Her remark imitated his own and he didn¡¯t like that very much. It spurred around with speed he could only admire. Would have sliced through bone if he didn¡¯t rip it out himself. The wounded leg bent wrong and caused him to kneel but that was okay. ¡°Fucking die. Fucking die.¡± She yelled, and there was a stirring vulnerability in her words.


    He had an opening. Her manic rage was tiring, as much to her as it was him, and she couldn¡¯t keep it up forever. When the Remainder girl took a breath he gripped her with his good arm, raising her as he raised himself. He wedged his bad leg on the corner of the room to get to his full height. It cracked again, but that was fixable.


    ¡°I knew your brother¡± He said, his voice a low hum you would only notice in the absence of noise. As the look of horror dawned on her, he very carefully raised his mask with his bad hand, so that she could understand why his voice seemed so familiar.


    The Remainder sister was- something happened to her that he could not understand. It would not have interfered with his plans, if the unknowable attack wasn¡¯t directly, deliberately, targeting her eyes. Her last vision was not his face. Enraged and embarassed, he killed her quickly by squeezing her throat until it burst. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Montanna smirked and walked in like he had rented the room. Whatever his Remark was had already been dismissed, he never got a good look at it.


    ¡±We agreed she was mine.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t leave any for the rest of us. What was I supposed to do?¡± He kicked the corpse of the boy over. He tsked tsked at the handiwork, as if he could have done better.


    ¡°Why not the reserve member?¡± He pointed to the closed door, near the ajar bathroom.


    ¡°25 is in there, ya dunce. He¡¯s probably relaxing, enjoying her bed while her corpse starts to rot.¡± He knocked on it lazily, not even bothering to bring back his Remark. The smoke from within floating out in a never ending stream. Montanna looked down, finally noticing. ¡°Or, Adam offed him, and one of us will have the pleasure of taking him in.¡±


    He took point, so that the bathroom was in his peripheral vision. The possibility of someone being in there was considered, but tossed for being ridiculous. Unless they were hiding, and therefore no threat, they would have struck by now.


    Montanna must have taken some other preemptive measures he didn¡¯t notice, because the next thing he knew the door was kicked in and Montanna was in there. Trevor simply stared at the empty space where Montanna once was. His leaders hand came into view, and ushered him inside.


    There were two bodies in there. One he recognized, one he didn¡¯t.


    ¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry. I should have stopped before then.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine it¡¯s fine.¡± Floundering among empty rolls of towels, she finally found a new roll deep in the back, and tied most of the roll around her bleeding hand. ¡°I¡¯ve had worse.¡±


    ¡±The good news is we¡¯re remarkably synched already. There are limits, of course, but moving forward it will be easier to prevent any unnecessary injuries. Your healing factor has also been greatly strengthened.


    He talked like a politician. Or atleast how her father had described them.


    The voices departed suddenly. They had been yelling before, two masculine voices she didn¡¯t recognize, but they had gotten smaller, walking further into the hotel room.


    ¡°It sounds like they¡¯re in the bedroom.¡±


    ¡°Do we make a run for it?¡± She said.


    ¡±Go over to the keyhole, lets check first.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°Why does he look like that?¡± The body was ancient. Not just old, but like it had never been alive to begin with. A collapsed bloated corpse, half on the floor. It¡¯s black hair covered the floor like the strands of a discarded mop.


    ¡°Maybe some quirk of his Trick.¡± Montanna lifted a hand, checking for a pulse. The arm dissolved into fine particles when lifted. ¡°Not a good one.¡±


    Keeping his distance, Trevor pointed at the body of their comrade. ¡°Stab him please.¡±


    Montanna did so without question. There was a stuttered groan that came from the body that could have been a death rattle or a surprised exclamation by a very alive person trying to play dead. It made no difference now. ¡°Okay, I did it. Can you tell me why?¡±


    ¡°He could have switched bodies.¡±


    ¡°Thats not a Trick I know.¡± Montanna said, smirking.


    ¡°Neither do I.¡± He took off his mask and opened a cracked window. The smoke was thick but its potency had long diluted. He breathed out deeply and stared down at the red streets, people reduced to dots. ¡°What do we do now?¡±


    Montanna did not answer, he was staring at something behind Trevor.


    From the half open bedroom door he saw her. She was emaciated and missing a shoe, with paper wrapped lazily around a hand that clutched her stomach. In her other hand she held a piece of brown glass, stained with fresh blood. Despite this Trevor didn¡¯t view her as a threat. It was her blood most likely. For a minute she made a long slow journey across the living room, tiptoeing around bodies and tripping over empty bottles.


    They didn¡¯t stop her until she reached for the door.


    Trevor slid into the space between her and the exit, becoming a barrier that she would have to go through. He did not at this moment consider the consequences of this, nor could he have ever imagined them.


    ¡°Well, well, and then there was one! The loneliest number¡­ assuming you¡¯re alone.¡± Montanna said.


    Trevor felt alone, for the girls eyes were on him, and they did not at all equal the sluggish exhaustion of her movement. Montanna¡¯s attempt to be witty meant nothing, he was farther away than The Grand, in that unknowable distance, the only thing close were those eyes. They were clear and focused, with a level of understanding that violated him wholly. Montanna could not see this, so he approached her lazily, his Remark not even out.


    ¡±Alright then, I¡¯ll try.¡± She said. Her voice was surprisingly pleasant.


    She turned with great speed and swiped at Montanna¡¯s closest leg, a direct hit. He fell down with a yelp, then the blade in her hand was dropped. She mouthed a word that might have been yes, and then the blade, no, a Remark, floated up slowly all by itself. Trevor did not move to attack because he knew it was already over, her eyes told him in a way his brain couldn¡¯t argue with.


    .


    .


    .


    ¡°WHAT THE FUCK¡±


    ¡±we need to leave¡±


    ¡°YOU STABBED ME IN THE FUCKING LEG YOU BITCH!¡±


    Impulses that weren¡¯t her own carried her out the door and down the stairs. The man with the slick suit and fake smile was screaming and hopping up and down. Nothing a vertical descent couldn¡¯t fix. His screams became muffled and, consequently, hilarious.


    She took the steps two at a time and found the action remarkably easy. The stairs melted into carpet and her momentum made her roll forward before resuming at a full sprint. Her heart was beating like a hole puncher and her vision was fading around the edges and she didn¡¯t care cause she was alive and she had killed two people and she didn¡¯t feel bad at all.


    ¡±The door in front of you is opening.¡±


    Adam jerked her to the left like a bad comedy act, avoiding a collision with a very confused looking man dressed in an undershirt and slacks. This was more an apartment than a hotel room, multiple rooms in slick colors spilled out from the open door. Behind him another man gazed out from a balcony, looking up at where the sky would be.


    ¡±There room looks much nicer than ours.¡±


    ¡°Thats really besides the POINT!¡± She yelled, as a strange something that Devon couldn¡¯t make out flew through the air and engulfed the man in slacks. She was out of there and rounding a corner before anything else occurred. The sound of cursing behind her, in the same nasally voice of the man with the slick suit. Clearly poor slacks guy wasn¡¯t his target.


    The hotel doors rippled past in a blur. She didn¡¯t remember the way here taking so long. Still running far longer and faster than she ever could have before, she glanced down at the strangely dirty piece of glass in her hand. ¡°What are you again?¡±


    ¡±I am a Remark named Adam Kadmon, you signed a pact with me and I am now controlling your hands, feet, nervous system, impulses, breathing, sinuses, heart and there is a machine of some sort in front of us.¡±


    It was big, on wheels, and clearly on fire. A bearded guy leaned against a wall next to it, roasting a piece of meat in the machine¡¯s flame. With a yelp she jumped against the paisley printed wall pushed herself off it, and cleared the machine and a good five feet beyond it, landing safely but not gracefully. With a whistle, the guy gave her a thumbs up. In a daze, she did the same.


    Taking a runners position, she was once again off.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to slow down soon.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± She said, startlingly angry. It was unbelievable to be able to run this fast, to do sick jumps and kill a man in seconds. It was an answer to itself, she never wanted to do anything ever again that wasn¡¯t running.


    She came to another set of stairs and braced to jump the whole flight.


    ¡°No. Wait.¡±


    Her momentum ceased like she had slammed into a brick wall. With a grunt she fell backwards, hitting her spine at a strange and violent angle. She heard a crack, and then what sounded like the crack and reverse. Her teeth were bleeding¡­ but that seemed to be the extent of the damage.


    ¡±You fractured your spine but don¡¯t worry, I corrected it.¡±


    ¡°What¡­¡± She looked behind her, finding the action didn¡¯t come packaged with the tightness and pain it usually did. There was no one there. She didn¡¯t hear any nasally voices calling for her head.


    ¡°I improved on it actually. Multiple vertebrae were unaligned and it was limiting the range of motion in your neck.


    ¡°How¡­ how can.¡± She slapped herself. It wasn¡¯t Adam¡¯s doing, it was very much her choice. ¡°Nevermind, lets get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Why did you slap yourself.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She was taking the steps one at a time, suddenly walking was like moving through sludge. ¡°Did you not read my mind?¡±


    ¡°I did but I don¡¯t understand it. Apologies¡±


    She sighed, searching around a now more cluttered brain for a response. ¡°It¡¯s a thing my dad taught me, and what his dad taught him, and so on.¡± Above them the ceiling shook and hanging lanterns threatened to drop. ¡°It¡¯s what you do when you start, um¡± She tried to find the words for it, which was difficult because the whole point was not to question these things. ¡°Well my dad said we didn¡¯t originally come from here.¡±


    ¡±I think I knew that.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Anyway, the place we originally came from.¡± She made the shape of a circle with her hands, just like how her dad would. ¡°Was spherical, and rested atop a vast sea.¡± Adam floated besides her, the tip of his body bobbing up and down in an imitation of nodding. ¡°We left in a ship that was the same shape, and dived deep deep deep beneath the waves!¡± She was mimicking the way her father told it and getting more excited as she did so. ¡°And then Remarks came out because people fought a lot. The Grand Council created them. And there was this guy called the Man with the Permanent Sneer. Maybe a guy, dad thought he was a metaphor for a movement at the time and not an actual person.¡± She rounded the corner of the stairs with ablomb, clicking her heels together just because she could. She had lucked out and found a stairwell. ¡°He or they didn¡¯t like the way society was being run. He or they complained, and in response the Grand Council¡± She struggled to say this last part, know how strange it sounded, ¡°Opened up the ship and drowned the world.


    ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re missing parts of the story.¡±


    ¡°How would you know?¡± She snapped. A space in her brain that felt Adam shaped winced. ¡±My dad did his own research about this, he told me. It¡¯s far closer to the truth than what Lemure says.¡±


    ¡±What does Lemure say about the past.¡±


    ¡°That we should return to it, primarily.¡± She snorted and rounded another flight, there was plenty of ambient noise, including the sound of words being seemingly shouted at random, but none of it seemed pertinent.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get that.¡± She continued. ¡°The past seems like crawl cow shit. People killing others to avoid being killed themselves, merit being decided on how easy it is to gut your brother like a fish. I have a job and if I keep my head down, I don¡¯t have to worry about getting murdered. So I¡¯m happy.¡± I mean she wasn¡¯t happy, but her options were limited and some days when she watched the mirth machine she could fool herself into a sort of simulacra of happiness. ¡°And the past just seems like, basically the same but with more risk of murders.¡±


    ¡±It was more pleasant than that, but still a clear precursor to this age. I believe the past Lemure wants is different from the one I know.¡±


    She came to a door they hadn¡¯t entered from, and eagerly pushed it. ¡°Yeah well tell that to-¡°


    They were in the lobby. And in that lobby was a Number she recognized.


    It was Hailien Dreadlock. Extraordinarily bad luck. She was famed for her ruthlessness, having become a member by assassinating Morgan Lemure 40 when she was just in the Reserves. Devon had never seen her in person, people had undersold her size.


    A good 7 feet tall adorned in Morgan¡¯s colors, wielding a Remark as long as her height. It was true what they said about her jaw. Devon knew she wore a metal prosthetic, but she thought people were exaggerating when they described it. It was truly intimidating. Raw and twisted, like it had just been taken out of the forge. The top half was sawed down to resemble massive teeth, making her face look like that of an Aberration.


    She was intimidating, terrifying, and reputably deadly.


    And she was looking straight at her.

 Chapter 12: My dinner with the Mennonites

    Her name was Hailien Dreadlock. Her rank was 37.


    In the slanted streets of Gutworth only the latter mattered. The hanger-ons of society either averted their gaze or couldn¡¯t stop staring. By choice, she kept herself out of the cities day to day life, favoring assignments to far off locales where she could be by herself for months on end. The sight of Dreadlock in the streets was as rare as the crisis that had called her.


    She curved around a mass of people, either fighting or trying to stop a fight, impossible to tell. And within Gutworth there was rarely a difference.


    She glanced up at a recruitment poster. It must have been made recently, as it¡¯s ink was still hot, and it mentioned Adam.


    Yet time moved fast in a crisis, and it was already outdated. The poster showed a glossy shot of her and several others, posing as if strength came from fashionability. She did not remember taking such a shot, and assumed it must have been painted or conceived through some machine, but it was so realistic that she decided her memory must have been at fault.


    Half of the people on the poster were dead. It was a poster meant to entice new blood, and so larger than life characters had been selected, fuck their reputation.


    Behind her was Genoa flexing proudly, truly believing that if she got big enough the hurt and pain that showed on her face would disappear (it didn¡¯t and, due to her death earlier that day, never would)


    Chancer Blemish front and center, staring into the viewer¡¯s eye like he could see them. He was considered a shoo-in for a role as the seventh Constant, yet just minutes ago she had gotten reports he was dead. how much fortunes changed in just a day.


    Behind him was The Basset Hound, a Number who Haillien did not fully get the appeal of, then Montanna, who Haillien actively despised, and then Stumble, one of the few Numbers Haillien actually liked.


    Next to Stumble¡¯s earnest grin was Hailien herself, body turned away from the viewer, the profile of her masked jaw apparent, especially the way the implant traced down her neck, ending right before the shoulder blades, her back looked incredible. Her remark was at her side, a massive broadsword that dwarfed her own body. It was always out, except during downtime.


    She never gave herself downtime.


    Tossing the poster aside, underneath it was an older poster showing a similar scene, the only difference was all but one of the Numbers on this one were dead. She was the exception. A rip, and beneath that one an even older one. Seven long dead Numbers grinning like ghouls, frozen snapshot taken at the peak of their powers. She couldn¡¯t remember any of their names.


    She stared at the uncovered poster for a very long time. Then she rounded a corner and entered the building.


    Floor 76. So high clouds regularly passed the windows. Eight places had been set up around a large shrink wrapped oval table, the lavish powder blue cloth was especially in right now.


    Half of the seats were already occupied. Hailien picked the chair closest to the door and sat down. A conversation was in play, and so they ignored her arrival.


    ¡°It¡¯s this protocol shit. For absolute nerds. What are we doing following procedure? I thought we were radicals...¡± said a gray-skinned Constant to her right. They were dressed in a boiled leather jacket and cutting into a crustacean with three layers of shell. The process made difficult by an inadequate set of silverware. ¡°If we were actually given permission to go after this guy. Then-¡± He snapped his fingers, and their fork fell to the table with a clatter.


    ¡°Hear hear,¡± a bulky Constant said across from them. He had his chair pushed back to the far wall of the room, and was busying himself with carving a small, round object. The room cast shadows that hid specificity, leaving as a silhouette of bulk.


    The gray skinned Constant looked around the room, not satisfied by the large one¡¯s support. ¡°Anyone besides Karol want to back me up on this?¡± Breathing through their teeth, she pointed to a tall Constant built like a streetlamp. ¡°Come on, Clive, we gonna let this guy rip and tear through the ranks?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Jeavell, of course we are,¡± Clive said, his eyes closed, hands behind his frame. He hadn¡¯t touched his food. ¡°It¡¯s fun to watch. The numbers dying in droves is embarrassing, but I see no reason to step in. Mister Adam wants to leave, right?¡± His smile grew wider. ¡°Maybe we just stop pestering him, he¡¯ll go away on his own¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± said a Constant on the far end in the largest chair, her outfit the most professional of any of them, giving the impression she had just left a work meeting (knowing her busy schedule, she probably had). ¡°What you¡¯re suggesting is close to treason.¡±


    ¡°Treason!¡± Clive laughed. ¡°What¡¯s treason is disobeying our dear old master. And I haven¡¯t heard anything from Morgan to the contrary, so who are you to say he¡¯s against it?¡±


    ¡°Would my word be enough to convince you, Clive?¡± Emerging from the top of a molding staircase was Morgan Lemure in the flesh.


    He was accompanied by Quertra and Daaz on either side of him. The woman in business attire nodded, and sheepishly gave her chair to him.


    He sat down with a ridiculous flourish of his cape, cloak undulating like a sponge being squeezed.


    ¡°Morgan, I¡¯m-I¡¯m surprised to see you up,¡± Clive said nervously. ¡°Last I saw you were dead asleep in your room, having night terrors about Wyrms, ranting about immigrants¡­ immigrants stealing our Wyrms, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°And yet I¡¯m here now¡± he said, his tone forceful. He motioned to Daaz and Quertra and they took seats opposite him, the levity in the room thoroughly killed.


    Morgan acknowledged Hailen¡¯s presence, perhaps even giving her the slightest gesture of a smile, before asking ¡°who is our highest number currently.¡±


    An easy if not sobering question. ¡°Well 40¡¯s dead.¡± Clive offered.


    ¡±So is 39.¡± The business suited woman said, adjusting her pillbox hat. ¡°Just happened.¡±


    ¡±What?¡±


    ¡°Yucian is right, and perhaps not even by Adam, as far as we know, as the murder took place a mile away from 40¡¯s death, but within the same minute.¡± Morgan said. ¡°And it¡¯s no coincidence. There are bad actors taking advantage of us. We¡¯re seen as weak and that has consequences for all of us. The moment we kill Adam is the moment we have stability back. What¡¯s to stop other strangers with a grudge from trying their luck? If one of them succeeds at killing, oh, I don¡¯t know, let¡¯s pick a number at random, maybe the highest number still living, say, 37¡­¡± For the first time, the Constants seemed to notice that she was here, and they turned to her as one, their faces skeptical. ¡°Well it makes it clear Adam¡¯s success can be replicated, or even remember what Remainder did, and try to outdo that.¡±


    When silence remained, Hailien realized with dread that she was expected to answer.


    ¡°That won¡¯t happen, Syr.¡±


    ¡°It by all likelihood can and will¡­ not that survival, as impossible as it seems, won¡¯t be celebrated.¡± And there was that sympathetic smile again.


    His cloak seemed to swallow him as he leaned forward, pulsing with the twitch of his fingers, his hands gripping the table so hard the pure marble cracked. ¡°Adam, or the other one, or ones we suspect but do not know, will become dissatisfied with just our Numbers. I heard all your comments before I came in. Why do you think I haven¡¯t sent you out there to face him?¡±


    No one answered. They all had their heads turned away from him, to avoid the awkwardness of being singled out. Yucian slumped down, her heart pounding. Hailien thought they were all rather pathetic.


    ¡°Because the Constants represent something eternal, they must be protected in the way the numbers are not,¡± Quertra said, speaking from Morgan¡¯s left. ¡°If one of us dies, that leaves all of us vulnerable.¡±


    Morgan suddenly released his grip and sat upright, his mouth gasping as if he had come up from some raging river. ¡°Quite right,¡± he said breathlessly. ¡°Put your egos aside and remember that.¡± Clive had a look on his face that seemed to say Well, obviously he¡¯s not talking about me.


    He launched into the plan for how they would respond. Animate and forceful, he reminded them all why he was their namesake. Hailien would be the figurehead of a campaign to restore their image in the eyes of the town. If any of the numbers actually killed Adam, Hailien would get credit. If she killed him herself, even better. If Adam was not killed shortly, they would dub him a menace, a source of chaos tearing the town apart, and shame anyone who wrongly believed this stranger to be a champion of the populace, a nasty rumor already spreading.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Do we continue to tell the numbers they¡¯ll become the new 41 if they bring him in?¡± someone asked. Hailien shifted in her chair and looked down, knowing that she would probably have to lie.


    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s been a good motivator so far. Why stop? But no matter who it is, our 37 will be the new 41.¡±


    Daaz whispered something in his ear. She showed him her wrist.


    His dead wyrm skin coat shook, and his expression was unmistakably surprised as he stood up. ¡°Put them on the speaker, I want everyone to hear this.¡±


    The speaker was a large, decrepit device that had been hanging over them throughout the meeting, multiple brass arms terminating in lifelike mouths.


    A hand crank lowered it down slowly, dust was thrown with every jerk and jostle until one mouth was in front of every guest. All of the mouths began talking at once, but Hailien could only hear the one closest to her.


    ¡°Daaz, are you there? Come in, Daaz!¡± It was the voice of Lemsk, current rank 31.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here,¡± Daaz said, getting so close to the mouth in front of her that it seemed like she was about to kiss it. ¡°31, we last have you located at a spot we believe Adam massacred several Numbers, what the fuck happened?¡± Morgan made a hand gesture that was a finger moving counter clockwise in a tight circle.


    Hailien couldn¡¯t fathom what this meant, but Querta reacted as if he had recited a poem from memory.


    She could hear background noise, the sound of something heavy being moved, and side chatter. The mouths dutifully remained open until a more substantial message was received.


    ¡°Ah, we¡¯re fine, we¡¯re fine. You know, just-¡° Yelling at someone farther away from the speaker, laughter, the atmosphere lighter than Hailien expected. ¡°-Sorry, we were¡­ we¡¯re in a hotel room now, how funny is that? Me and 29 and- just some kid we picked up, and that¡¯s not all, we- ugh, it¡¯s so crazy Daaz, like you¡¯d never even guess what happened!¡±


    ¡°Where is Adam?¡±


    Murmuring from the mouths, a conversation happening intentionally out of the speakers range. Yucian whispered something to Clive, who looked like he couldn¡¯t cared less. Jeavell tented her fingers and leaned forward, uncharacteristically interested.


    ¡°He¡¯s right here, see? Oh, I mean¡­ here, hear him.¡± The sound of a door opening, someone having a quite tense conversation with a severely wounded man, by the way his words were drawn out and pained. The same voice saying, ¡°Devon, say hi!¡± but Haillien did not hear a response.


    ¡°That¡¯s good, 31,¡± Daaz said, after some coaxing from Morgan. She cleared her throat. ¡°Can you tell us where you now are?¡± She looked at her wrist. ¡°We have you at the Chensington Outskirts. Confirm location?¡±


    ¡°Location confirmed, we¡¯re at the Salmacious.¡± A hotel considered luxurious by those with no knowledge of the word. ¡°By the way, we have a Reserve member here that we want to make a Number. Since we¡¯re the new 41, and all. That¡¯s okay, right?¡±


    In theory, this was correct. But Lemsk was not the new 41, and she was talking to a group who had every intention of stopping her. ¡°Of course, my dear Inheritor,¡± Lemure said. ¡°Slot her in at number 1. She¡¯ll work her way up like all the others.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± 31 wasn¡¯t at all fazed by Lemure¡¯s voice. Hailien wondered if she even recognized it. ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll come give him to you guys, then, byeeee!¡±


    The conversation ended there, signaled by the mouths all closing at once, and the structure floating up to the ceiling. Seven heads turned to Lemure, his face frozen in consideration.


    ¡°Morgan, are we really-¡°


    ¡°The girl must not think for a minute that her role in our organization is threatened.¡± He turned to Hailien. Jeavell shifted angrily, not used to being interrupted. ¡°You know that she cannot leave that hotel alive, but you were close to her, correct?¡±


    She shrugged and shifted, mirroring Jeavell¡¯s body language. ¡°I¡¯m close with all the Numbers.¡±


    ¡°Which is what makes you the perfect candidate for 41.¡± A pause, as if waiting for objections that never came. ¡°You won¡¯t dirty your hands. I¡¯ll have 35 handle it. He''s close by. He has proven to be good at matters such as these.¡±


    ¡°And if Adam kills them as well?¡± Karol was back to carving, and seemed to forget the question as soon as he asked it.


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll need more recruits, and perhaps our new 41 will make this charade easier by killing him herself.¡± His voice had a pointedness that had been absent before, it was clear he wanted this to be over. It humanized him in Haillen¡¯s eyes, even as it lost him respect on the same turn.


    A bellboy dressed in a sloppy apron bugged people for their plates. Hailien kept an iron grip on her own. She hadn¡¯t eaten yet.


    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll say what we¡¯re all thinking.¡± Clive said, ¡°I don¡¯t think someone of her rank could have beaten him to the point of unconsciousness. What, do you guys not know what a trap looks like?¡± While Clive continued, giddy as ever to prove others wrong, the waiter refused to take no for an answer, and was waiting, arms crossed, for Hailien to relinquish her plate. A final fried crawlcow leg was taken as an impromptu snack before the plate was finally given.


    ¡°I think Adam is a man, and a man can be injured..¡± Morgan¡¯s head flopped from one side to the next, the cloak by all accounts seeming like the only thing keeping his body upright. Hailien had heard from Quertra that their master was sick in some way, and needed drugs that kept ¡°a darkness¡± in him from slipping free, but it seemed as if he had outright difficulties in controlling his own body, even now, when he was supposedly at his best. Quertra slipped something into an outstretched hand and he quickly injected it. His face now free of tremors, he continued.


    ¡°41, you have your orders. Please meet 35 and 36 at the hotel. After, you will go to the city square of Gutworth. Begin preparing the citizens for an announcement. Yucian will give you anything you need to fulfill this. You will present Adam¡¯s body before the town, you will take credit for his murder.¡±


    ¡°And if we do not have his body? If by some bad luck or misjudgment he is still alive in 24 hours?¡± This time it was Jeavell, eying a sulking Clive, beaten to the punch on playing devil¡¯s advocate.


    Morgan Lemure smiled. ¡°Well, you¡¯ll all get your chance to have a little fun. How long has it been since any of you have had a good fight?¡±


    Hailien observed the blank faces around the room, with Daaz being the only exception. Many of them had little reason to do more than enjoy their status and fuck who they wished. Gutport had never had much in terms of danger, outside of the semi common Aberrations or Contenders who came in from the outside of the Drum, but that was easily dealt with by hole punchers and lower Numbers. It was the unfortunate reality of why the Legacy had settled here. They wouldn¡¯t last a second in many of the other Murder Games that had taken hold of the larger cities. Even Luminescia, a quick swim across the water, was way out of their league.


    The cloak stood up, and the body of Morgan rose with it. ¡°You should leave now Hailien. Let us know what the man on the street thinks of Adam. It¡¯s not something I need to know¡­ but it interests me, and I¡¯m sure it¡¯s the same for you.¡±


    All the faces turned again to her. There was a respect there that wasn¡¯t before. An awkward nod from Jeavell, polite smile from Yucian, an almost normal wave from Clive. Karol even moved his massive frame into the light, and offered a wide smile. The object he had been carving was a skull, and on it was the image of a man being torn apart by a galaxy.


    ¡°Do you have anything to say then, Hailien?¡±


    She did have one thing. ¡°Do you still see me as that kid, Morgan? The one wielding a Remark that didn¡¯t belong to me? Crying out in pain as my searing flesh went in, again and again, across his own. I know the one I killed, Theven, was important to you, one of the original members of your regiment from your useless placement war. What did that war net you but a permanent occupation at our little port town, endlessly overshadowed by the town across the bay, and eons behind them in terms of technology? Do you worry, Morgan, that the one who held the blade is more than capable of holding it again? What do you think I could do to your throat?¡±


    She said none of this. ¡°I appreciate the opportunity, and will not disappoint you.¡±


    Morgan nodded. ¡°It was never in doubt.¡±


    Hailien nodded in response, and left.


    .


    .


    .


    As soon as she was gone, Morgan wished she had stayed. The serum that kept the Other at bay was tied to his own mental state. With her gone, the only one outside of Quetra that he felt his equal, he found the fears about his nest seemed more reasonable. The Others bigotries and hangups coming back again with a vengeance, chewing away and distorting the simple truth that he knew and was raised on, that this was his home and he deserved to live in it. He would have to end this meeting soon, be tied up again to avoid the Other from ruining what was already a precarious situation.


    Haillien deserved the Needle, more than any of them. But he knew that if she received it, she would kill him with it outright. Already she was stronger than him, and only a bit more institutional strength would make that as clear to her as it was to him. In a lot of ways he deserved such an end, but he liked the view from his tower, the small little slice of the world that was unequivocally his. The few moments of lucidity his servants gave him were something to cling to.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she said a single word that entire time.¡± Jeavell put their feet up and fished out a cigarette. ¡°Damn rude is what that was.¡±


    ¡°She said a word. Fifteen, to be exact.¡± Karol dropped his carved skull to the ground, and started to work on an apple he had been saving. Not to carve, but to eat.


    ¡°She watched us and listened. That was all that was asked of her.¡± Morgan detected the tension emanating from Quertra, and wanted to defuse it. ¡°None of you should feel threatened by her,¡± he sighed, his breath catching in his throat. ¡°Sometimes I wonder-¡°


    ¡°Wonder what?¡± But he didn¡¯t answer Clive. They had another guest to attend to. He waved his hand, and the large elevator doors that had just closed behind Hailien opened again. There was a small woman there, short of stature but bright and confident in a way that transcended height. She marched into the room like she belonged.


    ¡°State your name,¡± Morgan said.


    ¡°Morgan Lemure 15, my given name is Tremble, and I define it as an impulse to survive,¡± she said confidently. ¡°And I¡¯m the only one who has seen Adam Kadmon and lived.¡±


    That statement was false, but Morgan allowed her to have that sense of uniqueness. Hopefully she didn¡¯t notice the faux smiles from his Constants. They all thought they were so much better than her. Children, all of them. She would make fine company. Let them understand what he meant by making her their equal.


    ¡°Very well¡­ do you think¡­ he trusts you?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Yes. Absolutely.¡±


    He took out an item, a black spire with an infinitely sharp point that seemed to rise upward forever.


    ¡°Then let me tell you the secret of this world.¡±

 Chapter 13: It makes a project like this fundamentally pointless

    ¡°I just don¡¯t understand it¡± The old woman said, who with a wry smile clearly signaled that she did. ¡°He was on track to becoming a Constant himself, don¡¯t you know.¡±


    Hailien had finally figured out how to latch her burrowhorse to the slats. She had never ridden one before, but Morgan was trying to encourage their use after a trader left them with far more of the creatures than they knew what to do with. With that done, she couldn¡¯t ignore the woman any longer. ¡°It was his idea of protest. I don¡¯t condone his actions.¡± Hailien said blankly. ¡°But he had his reasons.¡±


    She was just starting out in the legacy when Johann Remainder did what he did. He was such the model for what they had groomed Hailien to be, yet she knew with that came the fear she would turn out just like him.


    ¡°He killed a Constant.¡±


    This part of the story always bothered her. She never thought death was his intention, his whole point was in abstaining from it. But it was easier to think of him as a succesful assassin than a failed peaceful protestor. ¡°Yes, and we¡¯re all very lucky he didn¡¯t do worse.¡±


    This section of Gutworth was a street that went straight to the great cliff of the Drum, but by the time you got to the crematory the odds of seeing anyone living there was scant. There was no need for that anymore, corpses fed the sand and made it dream, and so it had been buried by time.


    ¡°They should have catched someone like him far before he got to that rank.¡± She said, tut-tutting to the sliver of sky above them, bright as white emptiness. ¡°And strung him up too.¡±


    ¡°Where is the hotel?¡±


    With a frown, the old woman pointed to the tallest building around, the one whose top floor had been scraped off by a low hanging mountain. It was like the architect had not accounted on the height of the outcropping.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know anyone used that one.¡± She said, but you could say that about half of the buildings here. Gutworth always seemed on the verge of being abandoned to her.


    This illusion was broken when she approached the building. It¡¯s glass front door and the ribbon like frames adorning it comically over cleaned. The soot and water damage only feet away from the entrance made Hailien wonder who they were trying to fool.


    The lobby was a stark white, punctuated by large tears in the walls that revealed a jungle of wires underneath. There was barely any furniture, or really anything recognizable outside of some yellow tinged stairs behind a desk, and another door to the left.


    The desk read like a fortress, jutting out of the wall with metallic bumps on its customer facing side. Commanding it was a small woman looking down at her hand. Close cropped brown hair, red lipstick, a white and black outfit that suggested she worked there. As Hailien approached she could hear the words the woman was mumbling to herself.


    ¡°Such irregularities cant be helped, I see no harm in it. Tell me again when it goes above 2 percent, or when more than one room is involved. You¡¯ll just give it a rinsing after, It¡¯s not that harmful.¡±


    She saw a flash of silver in the odd woman¡¯s palm, the same shade as the lobby, but it was gone, replaced by the veiny back of her hand. The Woman flipped her palms downward and leaned her body over the desk.


    ¡°Hello, welcome to the Salmacious! The best hotel not owned by Morgan Lemure. How may I be of service?¡± The woman said, her manner deranged.


    At that point Hailien noticed another woman sitting on one of the stumps that served as chairs. She was tall and in civilian clothes, with a blue dress under a white and red business suit, wearing glasses that made her eyes look like a pair of perfectly circular bottomless pits.


    She recognized from the demeanor that this was 36, through she had never seen her outside of her Lemure uniform. Better to see her than 35, who she assumed was already at work. She gave a mumbled apology and walked away from the receptionist.


    ¡±Oh, yes, get aquainted! We¡¯ll be here to help you plan a stay whenever you need it! 10 rooms currently available.¡± A pause, she leaned her ear to her palm. ¡°Perhaps eleven!¡±


    She sat on the stump nearest to 36, she needed no introduction.


    ¡°We have two bright numbers on it.¡± 36 said, as if they were continuing a conversation previously discussed. ¡°Montanna will waltz down here with the body that matters once it¡¯s been done.¡±


    ¡±Alive?¡±


    ¡±Hopefully alive, if we can count on Montanna not being Montanna/¡°


    Hailien offered little more than a nod. She remembered a time in her youth when she waited in a clinic similar in sterility to the Salmacious, tensing herself for bad news she knew she would receive. But she was older now, strong enough to resist the urge to show these feelings. What was her service in Lemure¡¯s Legacy if not a journey in creating her own mask to hide in.


    ¡°And if Montanna is Montanna?¡± 35¡¯s real name, something he was strangely upfront about.


    There was no obvious change in her demeneaor, but 36¡¯s fists were now clenched. Hailien understood why she wore the glasses. It was only now that she realized just how livid the Number was.


    ¡°Are you suggesting that he¡¯ll ruin this mission for the fun of it?¡±


    When Montanna first started, the gulf between him and the current 36 was immense, with her having been 15 when he was 1. More than a dozen numbers between them. And yet over the course of the last few years all of them conveniently found themselves dead, missing, or presumed dead, until he became 35, and there was no doubt in Hailiens mind that he wouldn¡¯t be satisfied with anything less than replacing Morgan himself. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    If Hailien had anything to be proud of, it was that she had never killed or masterminded the death of another Legacy member. Thevan did not count.


    ¡°I think we both understand that he¡¯s a liability. You¡¯re his direct superior.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m told.¡± 36 produced a small white stick from her coat pocket. ¡°The lady at the desk is giving these out, did she give you one?¡±


    Hailien shook her head, suddenly aware of the woman on the counter eying them.


    ¡°Watch¡± she bent the white stick and it snapped with a satisfying crunch without breaking. A blue light glowed from its middle. Hailien heard noise that after a moment became comprehensible as words.


    ¡°-The Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni is, as of this writing, the largest known Invertebrate, and the largest Squid in terms of sheer mass. A creature worthy of preserving, even if it takes up precious space. Only discovered less than 200 years ago, it is a testament to how many of Earths mysteries are still unknown to us, especially the ocean, which covers more than 70 percent of our world. And yet, scientists calculate we have only explored 3 percent of it. While gravity and the checks and balances of energy consumption means that terrestrial creatures have a limit on size, aquatic creatures do not have the same restrictions enforced upon them. Conceivably, they have no limit. Who knows how many species were left behind simply because we did not know they were there, perhaps-¡°


    ¡°Pretty cool right?¡± 36 said. ¡°Each one says a different thing.¡± She snapped another one, and the same voice began talking about some pastime Hailien had no frame of reference for, something about a ball and a place known as the diamond. The new voice was superimposed upon the old one and the sound soon became untenable. She crushed the newer one under her heel, which brought the voice to a whisper then a close. Hailien kept the other. ¡°I¡¯m fine with just one.¡± She put it on the middle of the table, still blabbering. 36 wrinkled her nose, now annoyed by the very curio she introduced.


    ¡°How long have you been waiting for them?¡±


    ¡°Not long.¡± She said with a sigh. The stairs behind the desk were flanked by a white wall diagonal to the stairs and a foot higher. They¡¯d hear footsteps long before they¡¯d be able to confirm who it was. ¡°Someone came down a few minutes ago and I got excited. But it was just one of the other guests. He gave me a look that made me want to shove his head in glass.¡± A crack of her hands. Her Remark sprang out from her nails, sharp as ever. ¡°I would have done it.¡± The Remark retracted as she lowered her head. Her voice was muffled by her knees. ¡±If I wasn¡¯t on duty.¡±


    ¡°Technically we¡¯re never off it.¡± They had signed their lives away.


    ¡°You don¡¯t really believe that.¡±


    Before she could reply there was a thump from above. The metal chair she was sitting on skidded as she got up. 36 grabbed her arm.


    ¡°It¡¯s probably nothing. There¡¯s a lot of noise here. Besides.¡± She smiled cruelly. ¡°He¡¯s supposed to be quiet.¡±


    There was another thump, this one followed by a groan. Again though, nothing that pinpointed it as having to do with them. Still, she readied herself for confrontation. Already standing up, and not accounting for the distance, her Remark carved the chair she was sitting on in two, and pierced the floor. With a lazy swipe, and a much more considered spin and flip that put the Sword behind her back, the floor was ripped open, revealing the same jungle of wires that pockmarked the walls.


    ¡°Oh no oh no!¡± The woman from behind the desk hurdled over it and ran to the exposed floor. A now detached wire danced in the bundle of red and yellow lines, hissing with strange blue flame. It wasn¡¯t hot to the touch, the receptionist passed through the flame with no problem as she hurriedly put some blue gunk from her pocket at its flaming end. She spoke into her hand. It was a white perfectly rectangular object that could have been mistaken for a trendy glove or piece of cloth, if it wasn¡¯t for the way it cleanly integrated into her flesh. ¡°You were supposed to tell me when it escalated!¡± She screamed into it.


    Footsteps descending.


    The woman whipped her head to the staircase. Hailien did the same, and was rewarding with heavy breathing and footfalls.


    A woman, no, a girl, burst out of the door behind them. She screamed when Hailien turned towards her, and fell over clutching something small and dirty. The way she immediately collapsed confirmed to Hailien that whoever this was, she was not a threat. ¡°Thats not one of ours¡­¡± 36 said. Meaning neither the assassins or one of the targets.


    The girl got up with some effort. She was dressed in a blood covered service uniform, the style suggested a restaurant, and gripped a piece of rusted glass in her hand. Two strands of her brown hair hung down in bangs like zig zagging curtains. Even as she had to push herself off the ground to get back up, she never let go of the dirty shard. A remark? No, Hailien thought, it was far too mundane, far too tangible. It would have dissapeared when she fell over.


    ¡°Stay right there.¡± Hailien commanded. But the girl¡¯s deranged expression was like a cornered crywolfs, angry with fear, and far more trouble than she was worth. When the girl ran past her, Hailien made no attempt at stopping her. It was certainly some poor bystander Montanna had terrified for his own amusement. She put her sword in the ground and stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the still descending footsteps.


    Still, it was a loose end.


    ¡°36, go catch up with her. Follow but don¡¯t engage, if she stops anywhere then tell me and keeps tabs but other than that be silent.¡± 36 left as the footsteps got louder. There had become more scattered, like someone was hopping.


    Someone was. ¡°Bloody girl got me right in the foot.¡± Montanna said, his hair was a mess and a far cry from the perfectly coiffed style he was known for. ¡°And you¡¯re not even chasing her?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not your target.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t get to tell me that.¡± Montanna said, forgetting his place. He hopped awkwardly down the last few steps. There was a ripple in reality that suggested a Remark, but none appeared, it¡¯s like he decided against the summon at the last moment. ¡°Did you not see what was in her hand?¡±


    She sighed, already priming herself to run after this mystery girl. ¡°How about our target, did you find Adam?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s dead but that doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s his remark. That girl stole it and she killed two of my men.¡±


    There was no way. ¡°That was barely a Remark.¡±


    ¡°Well Adam is barely a man. It wasn¡¯t a killer I saw up there. Grand, dude looked like a fucking skeleton and was dead when we got there. He was never the trouble, it¡¯s his¡± Montanna pulled into himself, putting his hands on his eyes and taking a deep breath. He lifted up his arms and exploded outward. ¡°It¡¯s his fucking Remark. That''s the real danger!! And you let it sashay out of here!¡±


    She had heard enough. Not waiting up for Montanna, she strided out the door, her Remark clipping the frame on the way out, contacting 36 through her smart veins for the woman¡¯s current location.


    ¡°Wait ma¡¯am, you forgot this!¡± It was the hotel receptionist. Her thin voice not enough to make her turn back. It was the strange language device she had dropped. The last thing she heard from that place was the device prattling on before the wind took precedent. Something about a project.

 Chapter 14: Missing The Point Of No Return

    Light footsteps on a dismal street. Devon was running at a mild jog but couldn¡¯t keep this pace up forever.


    ¡±Thats correct, even with me focusing all your energy on maintaining this level of exertion, your body is untrained and unpracticed.¡±


    She skirted to a stop, a wave of red sand flew in an arch and fell scattered some ten feet ahead.


    ¡±you can still walk, you didn¡¯t need to stop completely¡±


    ¡±I need a second.¡± It was odd. Adam was trying his best to hide it, but she could feel her body screaming at her. Muscles that had never before worked this hard tensing and untensed wildly. A heartbeat as rapid fire as a landlord on eviction day. It was only when she focused on her legs did she realize that by all accounts she shouldn¡¯t be standing.


    The space Adam occupied in her head fidgeted. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Previously, my wielders were used to this level of physical exercise.¡±


    A very nice way to say she was embarrassingly out of shape.


    Trying to assert herself in some way, she patted at her jeans, searching for money. ¡°So, if we want to leave for Luminescia, there are usually ferries every few hours. I think the fare is-¡° The familiar weight in her pocket was not there. She searched her other pocket to find only air.


    ¡±Ah crawl shit.¡±


    ¡±What is it?¡± Adam said, weirdly anxious.


    ¡±I left my money at the diner.¡± She said with a groan. Patting her pockets again even though it was fruitless. Fuck. She didn¡¯t want to deal with her boss, there would be so much to explain, and then he¡¯d make her work overtime to boot.


    ¡±Your boss is not a good person, is he Devon?¡±


    She sighed, scratching her back and trying to orient herself. ¡°Wow. Nothing gets past you.¡±


    ¡±I am in your brain and aware of all your base emotions and thoughts. You¡¯re scared of him.¡±


    She closed her eyes tight and grimaced, as if he could be crushed. Slowly he rosed in front of her, a dirty reflection of her miserable face.


    ¡±Devon.¡± Adam said flatly. ¡°He should be scared of you.¡±


    ¡­


    The diner was empty when they arrived. It was always open hypothetically, but in practice it was basically closed whenever Tread wasn¡¯t there.


    29 and 31¡¯s food was still in their booth, half eaten and cold. Devon took both plates and dumped them in the trash. Old habits die hard. Judging from their screams, they hadn¡¯t died easy.


    She felt no sorrow from their deaths, only frustration that she hadn¡¯t done it. She could feel Adam agreeing with her, a soft barely liminal pressure coiled around the back of her brain. This quickly shifted into something closer and heavier when the bathrooms doorknob turned.


    They both knew who was on the other side.


    ¡±Remember what we talked about.¡±


    She clutched Adam so tightly old wounds reopened.


    Tread walked out from the bathroom glumly, wiping a substance it was best not to think about on his crusted yellow apron. He glanced up thoughtlessly and did a double take when he saw her. Despite everything a part of her was hoping he wouldn¡¯t see her.


    ¡°Devon Near!¡± He said her name like a slur, his tongue getting tripped up on sharp consonants that didn¡¯t exist. ¡°What the fuck are you doing here, why aren¡¯t you in the back?¡±


    She quickly tilted her head down and walked towards the kitchen door. She was frightened, and she didn¡¯t want him to see.


    He slid into her path, his bulk an almost perfect silhouette for the doors oval frame.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been empty since those two Numbers left, but that¡¯s no excuse for you to vanish. Finally got a date or something, that the situation?¡±


    ¡±Devon, be calm. He¡¯s no threat to you anymore. He is not a pleasant man, that is clear, but you¡¯re stronger than him now. This can end peacefully if thats what you want.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡±


    His pinprick eyes stared down, noticing the blood.


    ¡°Hey¡­¡± Tread said. ¡°Your hands are bloody¡­ why didn¡¯t you clean that shit up?¡±


    ¡°I can make this easier for you, like we talked about.¡± Adam offered. Tread moved ever forward, his footsteps heavy, his breath foul. His presence permeated the space, making Devon feel lesser simply by being near him. ¡°But this will be unprovoked, premeditated. It will feel different, and it will be hard to come to terms with.¡±


    ¡°You know what, I don¡¯t care.¡± He chuckled to himself, the sound was like mud being cleared from his throat. ¡°If you killed someone, join the club. Thats the human experience. I remember when I popped my cherry. Made me the man I am today. Just do it on your own time is all.¡± His hands reached out, bulbous and off white, like edible clay starting to mold. ¡°We¡¯re gonna get the dinner rush soon, you know that.¡± His voice lowered an octave. ¡°So get in the back and finish your shift.¡±


    She saw a woman doomed to misery. She saw death the slow long way. Her pulse went rapid fire.


    ¡±On your word.¡±


    ¡°Do it,¡± she yelled.


    Power, cool and electric, sprouted from her brain stem and rushed through her body. Tread halted at the words, suddenly very concerned. She looked up at him, she knew her face must look bloodshot and manic, she was breathing like oxygen was going out of business. Adam was doing something to her body, even more intense than the stress test. Calibrating it, fixing it, breaking it, pushing it in line for one hell of a dry run. Everything she hated was being burned out.


    ¡°What- hey I- you¡¯re not- calm down. Callmmmm the fuck down, you¡¯re hyperventilating. Did I scare you? Are you scared of me? Why the fuck would that be?¡± Tread said, backing up into the kitchen. He frowned, ¡°You don¡¯t spread lies about me, do you? Trying to- to frame me for something unpleasant? Say I¡¯m- I- I wouldn''t hurt a floatrat! I was nice enough to hire you. I pay you, give you a purpose, and I¡¯ve never laid a hand on you.¡±


    Not fucking true.


    ¡°Not true at all.¡±


    ¡°Come on. Stop this-¡° he waved his hands wildly, ¡°this weird shit. All is forgiven, but you¡¯re fired. I can¡¯t- it¡¯s ridiculous Devon, it¡¯s unacceptable and not the first time you¡¯ve pulled this sort of stunt. I¡¯ll have you work till payday but thats it. You¡¯ll get to work. You¡¯ll get on the grill, you¡¯ll get out of my sight, and in a week you¡¯ll get your paycheck and- hey, hey, look at me.¡± He snapped his fingers, brushing against her nose. ¡°Look at me when I¡¯m talking, Devon!¡±


    She closed her eyes. Adam opened them. Her pupils were now covered in scratches.


    She moved faster than Tread could react.


    (¡°Hey what are you-) A quick punch to the nose,


    (¡°FUCK¡±) severing the spinal cord,


    (¡°Krk¡±) putting a large gash into his head by way of Adam.


    (¡°SKRCHH¡±) As the wound slowly drained, Devon carved out a small cut in the floor, the same size and shape as the gash. When Tread fell his wound corresponded with the cut, making it seem like he tripped and cracked his head clean open. An embarrassing, miserable death for an embarrassing miserable man. How clumsy of him.


    Devon opened her eyes. She had felt and seen the whole thing and knew what awaited her when she looked down.


    She still laughed, of course. He was a bad person and now he was dead, why wouldn¡¯t she laugh? She felt fucking great.


    But then she felt bad


    and then she felt sick.


    ¡°That¡¯s natural. It¡¯s okay to feel disgust.¡± Adam intoned, vibrating at a calming frequency, ¡°You reached out and acted destructively. Humans are meant to create, not destroy. You¡¯ve killed three times and never did it feel good. You are reacting like a human should, Devon.¡±


    She screamed once, a short gasp that was more like a burp, then fumbled for her bag full of orbits. There were less than she expected. With reluctance, she searched his cargo shorts for anything of value. He had a bag with 25 or so, better than nothing. She pressed a smeared handprint on the glass of the revolving door as she left. A parting gift.


    .


    .


    .


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°That was me, channeling your body and it¡¯s latent energy. You¡¯ve experienced it before, but never for that long or to such a degree.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean¡­ fuck, you were right that it was different but¡­ fuck.¡±


    They were anonymous in the busy evening crowd, the fish market was filled with the good joy of a wet season still in full swing. The terror that had gripped the Legacy had not trickled down to its subjects, or it had and shifted to joy from the prospect of a regime change. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    They passed no less than three people handing out leaflets, all claiming to be in conversation with Adam himself. Or as he was commonly known now, ¡°Lemure¡¯s End¡±.


    A facsimile of Adam¡¯s face, or the face of his last host, stared down at them from a LED screen they had to walk under, seeping into the market. News traveled fast when there was nothing else to go around.


    She walked by some well to do women fighting over a jewel encrusted hat one had bought.


    A woman from behind them all took out a Remark and cut the throat of the woman currently winning the tug of war. Scared and surprised by the escalation, the surviving women backed off, and the murderer took her prize, placing it on her head at a jaunty angle. Then she went back to her booth, and took it off so that it could be sold again, raising the price by three.


    Devon could feel Adam shiver in her hand. ¡°Was it like you thought it would be?¡±


    She didn¡¯t bother lying, of course she had entertained the thought.


    ¡°It was¡­ well, complicated by you actually doing the deed, you know. I just watched it.¡±


    One time she had come close to killing Tread, a year ago. She worked out how to do it and when. Even did a test run, culminating in her tapping him on the shoulder instead of a death blow. But the look he gave her, his beady bug eyes were devoid of any hatred, only curiosity. She stopped planning for his murder after that.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay to be conflicted.¡±


    She breathed in deeply before replying, feeling the part of her that was Adam approve of this didn¡¯t temper her anger. ¡°Is there any way I can turn you off, just for a moment?¡±


    ¡°I can try. If you give yourself a word, say, Disregard, I¡¯ll make myself leave your mind until you want me to come back in. You can say, Return.¡±


    ¡°But will you actually leave?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ I couldn¡¯t leave your brain. Just think of it like me covering my ears.¡±


    ¡°Disregard,¡± she said, and thought immediately of how happy the death of her boss made her feel. She was partly lying to herself, she was conflicted, but she deserved to gloat. He was dead, she had killed him. She deserved to celebrate even if there was nothing heroic about how she had done it. It was her hands that held the knife, it was her face that was his last.


    She saw a man fighting in some sort of facsimile of Remark combat, him and his opponents using animatronic insects who fought with weapons that were nary a sliver. So beguiled was she at the one man¡¯s combatant that she didn¡¯t realize that her foot had stepped on the other. This one¡¯s controller, a youth with a broken nose (wait, was that Norman?) charged clumsily at her. She dodged and the young man bumped into a butcher, wrapped in his wares like an effigy to sacrifice. The butcher went at the man''s throat. Devon didn¡¯t bother to watch it transpire.


    ¡°Return,¡± she said. Adam made a sound like he had been holding his breath.


    ¡°That was far harder than I expected.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Devon said. ¡°I¡¯m- sorry?¡±


    They passed a wild grinning man, or perhaps woman, being shoved out of a bar. Taking a swig from a bottle, they lit and tossed it at the bar, alighting the establishment in flames to oohs and awws.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t apologize,¡± Adam said quickly. ¡°I am the guest here, you should not apologize for having boundaries. It¡¯s welcome, it wasn¡¯t the case with my last host.¡±


    The crowd around them applauded and showered them with coins as the flames triumphed. Delighted, the arsonist hoisted the money up and walked confidently to the burning bar before stopping at the entrance, realizing their mistake. With a sheepish grin, they turned to leave, but the crowd had cornered them. There was no escaping. With a reluctant sigh, tears sizzling from the flames, they walked into the bar. Their hand, raised as if to order, charred first. Everyone cheered.


    ¡°What was he like?¡± Devon asked, happy to change the subject (and distract herself from the impromptu immolation)


    ¡°A terrible man, or so he claimed. I don¡¯t know if I agree. I think he only did as much evil as was common in his world, but he had a heightened radar for it, and thus, he felt far worse than men deserving of such guilt. Chaucher Someone, that was his name. But he¡­¡± There was an abrupt pause. ¡°¡­ He died early on, so I had the task of puppeteering his corpse longer than I personally knew him. Something I did for far too long.¡±


    She considered this as they came across a back alley. Without knowing if it was a shortcut, she went down it.


    In the alleyway, lit by a light source she couldn¡¯t see, was a woman appraising a pile of bodies. Besides her was a woman who, Devon assumed, was responsible.


    This second woman was beating them into a fine slurry, making it harder to distinguish the bodies individually outside of hue and size. Every so often, the woman watching would sprinkle a fine mist on the other. This act emboldened her violence, making her mash faster and faster. It was pointless, quite clearly; corpses could not be made corpses any further than they already were.


    Devon sneaked past them quietly, switching into a dead sprint once she was out of the alleyway and back to the relative safety of the main way.


    They had come to the main dock, which had expanded itself in the years since Devon had last been. New planks branching off of old ones, offshoots either outgrowing their mother slats or being forgotten until the only visitors were the tide. The only ships docked were fishing trawlers, small private boats held by salt of the earth captains Devon had no interest in trying to coerce. With a sigh she sat down on the edge, feeling lightened by the glow from the passenger ship that would take them to Luminescia, and then outside of the Drum, and from there, and from there¡­


    ¡°You¡¯ve never left, have you?¡±


    Not without lack of trying. ¡°I thought if I played my cards right, I¡¯d be trusted enough to leave town on dust runs. From there, I don¡¯t know. Cut my hair, change my name, try things out South. I hear it¡¯s better. Do you know anything about Luminescia?¡±


    The City That Welcomes. They could see its bright neon lights from the other side of the river. You couldn¡¯t see individual buildings, just the warm glow of it.


    ¡°What we can see of it now is the extent of my knowledge. The demise of the Grand is our objective, we must locate them first, the only way to do that is to explore.¡±


    ¡°Where have you been so far?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Too little, even though I have been doing this far too long. I¡¯ve been through the vast night and made it to the home of those who speak in silence. I found myself in tunnels that opened up to secondaries skies where squabbling cities dueled like people. I have braved the contradictory colonies of Saint Casca and sought a city called Arch that curved around all this worlds virtue, but all I found were stories. I lived in a massive room that was itself an empire, then miles and miles of purple beige and towering white blocks that called out to me in voices I knew, urging me to join them inside. And before all of that, I was in a completely different context. With a woman who looks, or looked, very much like yourself.


    The Capacity he mentioned, back at the hotel. Devon was not excited to learn more. ¡°I think the boat should be here soon.¡±


    ¡°What are the odds of that, do you think?¡± It was a harmless question, but it made her neck hairs bristle.


    She shifted in her spot, looking down at the sea and seeing her own reflection mime her words. ¡°It seems like a safe bet. The red flare is on, that means it will be docking shortly.¡± They were alone here, even the sounds of a busy night in the city felt muted. ¡°I¡¯m not sure why no one else is here.¡±


    There were only a few solitary fishermen who may as well have been statues. One in a massive overcoat cast a line, and then was cleanly pulled into the water moments later by a very strong tug. None of the other fishermen seemed to care.


    ¡°It makes me think of bookends, Devon. And that means something.¡±


    She stopped responding. Glancing back over to where the fisherman was caught, she saw a different fisherman in his place, soaking wet, and looking amorphous, like an abstract sketch of the first. She didn¡¯t think much of it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did I offend you? Or was I too oblique? What I mean is¡­ well, do you still have books? Was that metaphor clear? Your tech level here seems¡­ contradictory, I¡¯m sorry, not a criticism, that''s the only word for it. Where I¡¯m from it was far more-¡°


    ¡°I want you to stop talking about her, please.¡±


    In the recesses of her mind she could feel Adam¡¯s consciousness retreat. When he talked again it was much softer.


    ¡°Outside of appearance, I don¡¯t consider you anything like her.¡±


    She laughed, ¡°Well, that¡¯s great. I¡¯m gonna spend the next eternity worrying what it means that I¡¯ve stolen someones face.¡± She pointed at it for the benefit of no one. ¡°And I was just coming to like it, too!¡±


    The boat was close enough to make out details of the trawler, it wasn¡¯t the passenger ship she was familiar with. It had been made from the hollow out shell of a dammedcrustaceon, a good 60 feet from one end to another. Figures stood on the bow, watching, their silhouettes marked red by the flare above them. She checked on the orbits in her pocket, wondering how much was worth a passable bribe.


    ¡°Is it not common knowledge that the shifting waters-¡°


    ¡°There¡¯s a difference.¡± She was standing up now, needing room for motion as she worked through anger. ¡°Between knowing something, and living through it.¡± She threw Adam up in the air, he clattered to the ground. An attempt had been made to catch him.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    She bent down to pick him up.


    There was the sound of metal swinging through air, and then a boot was crushing her hand.


    A voice filtered through oil. ¡°To leave?¡±


    Her fingers grazed the remark under the heavy gravity of the boot. She could feel Adam moving itself in an attempt to get out from under it, but he was as stuck as she.


    ¡±Was your plan really just to leave?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the woman we saw in the hotel, Devon.¡± Adam said. ¡°The Lemure agent.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s¡­ too fucking many of you guys,¡± Devon said through gritted teeth. She was too angry to be scared. 37, Hailien, had a reputation for a good reason. And before today Devon had thought she was half way decent.


    Hailien did not answer. She had taken on Devon¡¯s vigil from before and was staring at the ship. The glare of the red light emblazoned on her face meant it was close. Devon¡¯s vision was limited, and was only able to glance up, no more.


    ¡°That was a question.¡± Boot pressed down harder, Devon winced, she could handle the pain, but that didn¡¯t mean she liked it. ¡°Did you plan on leaving using that ship?¡± She pointed her Remark towards the light.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I want to not fucking die! So yes! I want to leave!¡± She had gotten a finger on top of Adam now, and was slowly inching her finger towards the tip of the boot, her hope being that she could create enough lift with her wrist to pull her hand out with Adam in hand.


    And then? Stab her, let Adam¡¯s honed instincts take over and make the world a little safer for them, and everyone else.


    Silence. ¡°That¡¯s probably the smartest choice. Yes.¡±


    With an animal ferocity enhanced by Adam, Devon pulled her hand out, remark included. She jumped, a good seven feet, high enough to have her knees hover over the amused metal face of 37.


    She pounced on the neck. Her arms sliding around to the back, ignoring for now the cracks in her own as her body contorted and voiced disapproval with pain mostly muffled. Her weight wasn¡¯t enough to throw her larger opponent to the ground, but her reflexes were faster. She turned around and held Adam to 37s bulging throat.


    ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t plan to kill you, but I am gonna stay on you for as long as I can, with this Remark on your throat until I feel safe enough to take it off. First, we¡¯re gonna get on that-¡± Her well thought out speech died.


    She could see the ship clearly now. She understood why 37 did not struggle.


    The ship was docked, and on the gangway was a woman Devon recognized. How could she not? It was the mayor of Gutworth, one of the Constants. She heard her voice every morning, Yucian Vast.


    The woman was dressed in the fur of albino crywolves, a strange and beautiful sight. Behind her men and women in slick raincoats lined the ship, each with their Remark out, held high like torches.


    Yucian walked up to the two of them, hiding a smile behind a silk soft hand. ¡°Marvelous darling, let¡¯s do lunch sometime.¡± She said to 37, her voice soaked with derision.


    She reached for Adam. Adam bit back. The cut open her palm and was about to do more before 37 turned around and put her hands on Devon¡¯s throat.


    ¡°That¡¯s not very sporting, from both of you.¡± Yucian wagged a finger and grabbed hold of Adam, who offered no resistance. ¡°Come, let¡¯s get you on that boat. First class Devon, you¡¯ll want to see how the other half lives.¡±


    As they walked to the boat, 37 holding Devon aloft like she was last weeks trash, whispered something.


    ¡°You interest me. Do you think you could kill a constant? Blink twice for yes.¡±


    Her range of motion was limited, but she blinked twice.

 Chapter 15: The Triage Dilemma (Or, the weirdest chapter so far)

    ¡°This is her trick, I¡¯m sure of it¡± Devon had never rolled her eyes harder. It had been barely any time since they were captured, and Adam had come up with three separate theories on what Yucian¡¯s Trick could be.


    ¡±She can charm others, make them bend to her authority¡± said in response to how the ships crew did their job and lead them below deck. If this was a Trick it was one the entire town was under.


    ¡±She can manipulate space, matter, oh grand, she can interface with the past¡± Devon had no idea what that meant, but it was triggered by Yucian petting the cold steel floor, cooing something that was either a song or words in a language she did not know.


    They both had plenty of time to dread. In the cargo hold Devon had been bound tightly, and Adam had been placed in a cage. He had been hitting the bars like a rioter, even though they both knew it was useless.


    Her own fear seemed to be heightening him. The knowledge your superiors had powers you couldn¡¯t even fathom was old hat to Devon. She had become apathetic to it. For Adam this was all brand new, and he was having trouble adjusting.


    ¡°It¡¯s far too large, far too large for a ship of this size.¡± His newest theory, and the only one with weight. He was referring to the cargo hold. A large cavernous room that seemed to dwarf the diameter of the ship itself. There was a portion of it they did not see, dipping off into darkness. Who knew how deep it went.


    Every so often 37 would glance at her, the womans massive steel jaws glinting as it reflected off of the harsh coral surface. Confirming her commitment, it seemed. Can you kill a Constant? Of course she wanted to, the question was if she could.


    The Constants were Constants, on a universal scale. Like the setting of the sun or the death rattles of the butchered, they would exist long after Devon and everyone she knew was dream dust.


    That was their reputation at least. Only one had ever been killed, and the manner the perpetuator was dealt with made it clear this was not something to attempt lightly.


    They acted like Gods. Nothing they did would ever taint them. Engaging in acts of public cruelty and wanton violence that even for the low low standards of Gutworth was a bit much.


    ¡°The interior decorating is atrocious¡± Yucian said, giving the room a 360 glare. It was the underside of a hollowed out shell, so there was no interior decorating to speak of outside of the large metal floor bolted in. ¡°This is supposed to be a private room for Constants to enjoy themselves and travel in style.¡± Hailien gave the Constant a confused look but remained silent. ¡°Now I understand why we rarely use this dump.¡± She completed her assessment by zeroing in on Devon, giving her a grin so big the Constant seemed moments away from unhinging her jaw. ¡°I don¡¯t deserve these filth quarters, do I, darling?¡± The Constant stroked her stained dress pants in a ritualistic fashion.


    When it came to Constants, she was face to face with one of the worst. All she could do was nod, smile and hope that she truly was strong enough to hold a God accountable.


    ¡°Ah, see that? Our prisoner has more manners then you Hailien.¡± She flexed her ring finger and her Remark origamied into existence. It was a short blade made out of newspaper print, headlines scrolled through like the bottom of a tv screen. She approached Devon and laid the blade at her throat. ¡°How do you want to do this?¡± The question felt directed at her, but Hailien answered.


    ¡°Lets give her the Triage Dillenma.¡±


    Yucian twirled her head around and pouted. ¡°Why not just kill her?¡±


    ¡°Outside of her name we know nothing. Trav and Lemsk wanted to make her a Number, incredibly odd under the circumstances. She was just a mediocre reserve member. Then she kills two of our men in a similar manner to Adam. And yet he was found dead in the same hotel room, who knows for how long.¡±


    Devon looked at Adam, locked in a box, fearing less for him and more that he would lash out and try and escape at such an in-opportune time. He gave her sensations that expressed that he was calm, or trying his best to be, despite the rattling to the contrary. ¡°The name Triage is familiar to me.¡± But how or why wasn¡¯t shared.


    ¡°This is foolish darling, theres nothing more to it.¡± She pointed a white powdered hand at Adam. ¡°This is her Remark. Ergo her power. If we kill her then it stops existing and we can all go home.¡±


    ¡°The Remark we think, acts as a parasite, latching onto another person once their user is killed.¡± Hailien said. ¡°The Triage is the easiest way to confirm this. We¡¯ll give the basic scenario, nullify the Remark if neccesary, and then announce that Adam is dead.¡±


    Yucian thought about that, all expression left her face, like a machine that had stopped working. She clapped her hands and that wide smile returned. ¡°Okay darling, it¡¯s your assignment! I¡¯m just here to clean up if you fail, let¡¯s give it a chance.¡± She waved her hand.


    Nothing happened until Hailien did the same.


    A large rectangular cube rose out of the metal floor. This again seemed normal to Adam, and he said as much to Devon, letting her know that things were shaping up well for them, even if he couldn¡¯t yet explain why. Despite this he didn¡¯t stop attacking his cage.


    There were three slots, one in the middle and two others on the smaller ends. Devon was escorted to the one in the middle. Her hand was forcefully placed in the slot. A cold liquid enveloped her and then solidified around her like a glove. She tried to yank her hand away on reflex, terrified that she couldn¡¯t see what was causing the sensation. 37 gave her a look, and that put an end to that.


    ¡°I see the word Constant in your mind, Yucian is one of them, you fear her even more than the others. Is it a position of power here?¡±


    The only one that matters, she thought.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t told about the Constants. There was another who tried to help me, Tremble was her name. Whatever this metal jawed woman hopes to accomplish, maybe she is on the same side. But why didn¡¯t she tell me about them.¡± Devon didn¡¯t know Tremble well enough to offer a suggestion (She had crossed paths a few times and found her annoying. They were neighbors as kids she thought?) but she doubted how truthful a rank and file Number could be about bringing down Lemure. Hailien was no exception to this cynicism. They always had an angle.


    ¡±Lets check her ADM first.¡±


    Adam perked up at the name, through she was sure it was a coincidence. Devon was dimly aware of it, some way of assessing a Remarks strength.


    A digital haze consisting of Orange, Green, and Purple coated the cube in three sections. Concrete shapes of each respective color were birthed from the haze with a sort of staticky squelch. The Orange one, closest to Devon, grew a tiny spike made out of a harsh metal substance, poking out like a weapon waiting to be used. Words appeared orbiting it, like the fated halo of Serach (who was that, why did her mind conjure up that name?)


    Designation: [Error/ Not Commited]


    Application: 19.7


    Density:100.10


    Miracle: Thousands Cured in Plague Ridden City


    Current Sphere: Netzah


    Yucian whistled. ¡°That Density level explains a lot, it¡¯s an incredibly cultivated Remark.¡± She said, almost enviously. Hailien stuck her hand into the second slot. The violet shape pulsed in recognition, and that same metal substance grew out of the top like a foreign colony overwhelming it¡¯s host.


    Designation: Time Consumer


    Application: 36.5


    Density:80.1This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Miracle: Your Fathers Eyesight Returned


    Current Sphere: Hod


    Yucian jammed her hand in, for a second it seemed the machine could not handle it, and her orange shape toggled between existing and not. When they came back for certain, the shape was now a deformed twisting segmented thing that suggested a many jointed serpent, or a worm tied up in knots. Devon stifled a gasp. Hailien didn¡¯t seem surprised.


    Designation: Occam¡¯s Scalpel


    Application: 17.0


    Density: 55.5


    Miracle: We Escape Gehenna


    Current Sphere: Sammael


    ¡°That must be wrong¡± Yucian said, mumbling into her fur, the holograph reflected in the dead eyes of the crywolf head that hung loose around her shoulder.


    ¡°I remember this¡± Adam said, doing the mental equivalent of a stage whisper. ¡°We did this on anyone new, or if there¡­ if there was a problem that needed to be fixed.¡±


    ¡°Hailien, this is your show.¡± Yucian said, eyes fixated on her level.


    ¡°Of course. Right.¡± Hailien looked at the board. To Devon it looked like she was as clueless to the meaning as she was. This was all bullshit right? (¡°I can assure you it is not¡±) After a moment recognition came, and Hailien looked up from the board with glee ¡°Activate scenario 17b¡±


    ¡°This is an Orphan case, darling, if you¡¯re correct.¡± Yucian Vast said, staring at her submerged hand like she could still see her nail polish ¡°The protocol for that is 2c. You know, Unu and Du are superiors of Tri. Pressures only one way-¡°


    ¡°Activate scenario 17b¡± Hailien said again, now with more confidence.


    ¡°Wait no. Cease scenario?¡± But Yucian couldn¡¯t. For she was Du, not Unu, Devon figured. Admittedly this was all new to her, but she could at least understand the pecking order of this strange machine. The Constant¡¯s proxy shook and withered, the contorted worm becoming less stable, more infernal.


    Hailien worked fast, moving her hand in a flurry of motion. The board (thats what it was, a board, Adam said) changed in turn. The avatars representing Hailien and Devon were now side by side, facing down the Yucian avatar which continued to mutate. Hailien read from a prompt only she seemed to see.


    ¡°The year is 96 after Deluge, we have reason to believe that all of us are our own recursors, doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past.¡± Devon¡¯s trapped hand was being pierced but there was strangely no pain, only the sensation. There was pressure building around all three avatars, and that pressure carried over in her head.


    ¡°We cannot all terminate¡± Hailien continued, ¡°only one of us has to, as our Tris becoming Dues would be a new instance. A new instance unburdened by the past is why this world was ripped open and plundered. As I possess this knowledge, and cannot be doomed to repeat it, I can¡¯t be sacrificed for the simple reason of causality. I take no pleasure in saying this.¡± The visual pressure dissipated around Hailien¡¯s avatar, compiling itself on Devon and Yucian¡¯s. The Constant was uneasy, and twitched underneath her bright yellow fur coat, the dead lupine heads seeming to come alive and yowl in pain.


    ¡°This is good. This is great even. She¡¯s a natural at this.¡±


    Devon did not know what to say, so Adam spoke for her. ¡°And it cannot be me, for I am the mediator between Cain and Abel, the sister they both had, Sarach, who lived forever.¡± Her head was moved forcefully in Hailien¡¯s direction with a sickening crack. ¡°Cain, we must get rid of Abel, the source of your ire. He knows nothing but peace and we subsist on war. If he stays and you die, we will lose your strength and the advantages that violence brings. But if he dies by my hands, we shall finally succeed in overcoming original sin, keeping you blameless in the eyes of the lord.¡±


    ¡°No! Stop it!¡± Vast yelled, her spit staining the board. Devon had no idea what was happening, Adam was driving. (¡°I told you. this is good¡± Adam said)


    ¡°So we are agreed. Recognize majority!¡± They both said in unison. And with that, Devon and Hailen¡¯s arms were suddenly released. Yucian Vast, their Abel, was still trapped. She was gnawing at her own arm with strangely sharp teeth. Hailien rushed to free Adam, bursting open his cage with a single punch, who rocketed across the room to Devon¡¯s outstretched hand.


    The way he used her feet to glide over and through the table like it wasn¡¯t there, how he was passed from hand to hand as an idle game to prime his strike, it was strenuous on her body, at times almost disagreeable, but it was clear that for Adam this wasn¡¯t even taxing him, that he could have done far more if there were not her pesky mortal limits.


    And yet, even in a body that had never before today ran more than a block, he got to the Constant before Hailien. All Devon could take credit for was preventing heart failure.


    The hand that was more Adam than her aimed straight for the eye, but Yucian deflected by shoving her free hand straight through the blade. Devon showed shock, but her body didn¡¯t, it followed through by twisting the now bleeding arm at the wrist and pinning it to the table. The Constant grunted and brought a well muscled leg onto the table, trying to use Devon¡¯s face as a boost to rip her other arm free.


    It was a victory for masochists. The purple muscle and spiderweb like veins were freed, but the skin of her arm remained pinned below Adam. Devon choked out a gasp. She yanked the other arm out and the restraint came with it, her hand encased in a solid block of tech that sizzled and sparked.


    ¡°I can do this all day, darling!¡± Yucian yelled, and the speed at which she began pummeling Devon gave credence to the claim. Each attack was more viscerally disgusting than the last, as her exposed flesh would get on Devons face and then soak into wounds that the block covered other hand had made.


    With Adam at the helm, they tried to regain their advantage, but Adams form was still embedded in the right hand''s skin.


    ¡°Get the remark, get the goddamn remark¡± Devon yelled as Yucian joyously continued the pummeling, the beating, the oh fuck this is what I deserve isn¡¯t it. Where the fuck was Hailien?


    ¡°I can¡¯t move it¡± Adam said to her between the blows. Her body was moving furiously in a way that was either a spasm or a desperate attempt for escape, she couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°So much of my efforts right now are in keeping your pain receptors distracted and repairing nerve damage, you don¡¯t want to feel how this-¡°


    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± She really didn¡¯t, whatever pain she would feel, she knew she could handle it. She had placed her hand on an open stove habitually for years. She was a fucking freak.


    Hailien was at her periphery, her Remark ready for a swing that was on track to decapitate both of them. ¡°DO IT.¡±


    Adam did. A battle whose true pain had been muffled was experienced all at once. She fell back not as a strategy but as a reaction. Yucian was distracted by Adam suddenly flying around her body and pecking at her like a floatrat.


    This charade did not last long, as Hailien¡¯s swing connected.


    There was a flash of light that absorbed all color in the room.


    For a split second there was only blackness and the the thick white trail of her swing.


    When the light came back, and it came back gradually, the room was silent, and Yucian was still in one piece. This didn¡¯t last long.


    ¡°I knew it, I always fucking knew it.¡± Sliced all the way through at an angle, Yucian¡¯s body from lower torso up was sliding off slowly. ¡°You were never reformed, you couldn¡¯t be. That level of evil can¡¯t be rooted out.¡± She took a sideways step and angled her hips to slow the descent. ¡°I hated the one you killed. His name was Terrible. He was deserving of it but that doesn¡¯t mean you don¡¯t deserve a torment thrice as bad. The last names matter more than the first, have you ever noticed that? Have you ever noticed that we can¡¯t give ourselves our own names? They speak a language we don¡¯t. The Wyrm helps us learn it.¡±


    Devon was on the ground, panting out blood. Hailien and Adam as Remark stared at the Constant, letting the dying woman rant.


    ¡°Vast is a name that means ¡°first to succeed¡± but I don¡¯t think thats true, not by half.¡±


    At this point the fact that Yucian was still alive had shifted from novelty to a potential concern. Her Remark was shifting, branching out into individual paper strands that curved around her body.


    ¡°Lemure gave me a boon when I became a Constant. He called it his¡­ Contrarians Needle. There are atleast *Seven*¡± she put focus on the number, something that made her eyes sparkle, ¡°It gave me powers far better than a fucking Remark, ones you have yet to see, and it also revealed my name, what it truly means.¡±


    She said a single syllable that was foreign to them. The vowels echoed in the room long after it was spoken. ¡°Not my name, darlings, but what my name truly means. The far, the spacious, a lifetime of possibilities made manifest. The ground I walk on- the gap between you and me.


    ¡°I do not like this¡± Adam said ¡°She made a pact with something unreal.¡±


    ¡°Does it matter who they are?¡± There was an audible gasp by Adam.


    Yucian could hear him, and was responding. Hailien was the only one not privy to this conversation. ¡°Lemure is power, and power is safety. Whatever the source of his power is, I worship it completely. May I ask who it is I¡¯m speaking to right now, is this Adam?¡±


    ¡°You know me by name.¡±


    ¡°So what is your pantheon Adam? Where you born from the Deluge, like Morgan? Or did you die in it¡­ like Morgan?¡±


    Devon saw images superimposed over the real. Armies marching into water, the sick and the dying trampled underfoot, saved only by the sea and it¡¯s buoyancy. She had no idea if these were lived in experience or visceral metaphors, but they felt just like the visions of war she had seen at the hotel. She understood the pain.


    And then, just for a second. A woman who looked exactly like her, but better. Watching the army submerge.


    She was frowning upside down.


    ¡°A hapless foot soldier¡­ so no real power there.¡± The Remark of Paper had spread to her forehead. Her head became a replica of the Death Wyrm mask but with the mouth unadorned. They could see the way her teeth multiplied as she spoke. ¡°You are an inconvenience to superiority.¡±


    She spread her arms wide, so long now they scraped the walls.


    ¡°I merely want to leave. Devon can attest to that.¡± It felt a little late to try and bargain for an exit, but she nodded in agreement. Even if like, no that wasn¡¯t true, they were gonna try and kill her.


    ¡°You move that puppet well, but I understand what¡¯s moving here, darling. Who¡¯s moving who. You are a hypocrite¡± Her hands covered her face, they were growing layer after layer after layer of sharp sharp skin ¡°let me show you how a master pulls the strings.¡±

 Chapter 16: I cannot stress enough that they are fighting the Mayor like she’s a JRPG boss.

    ¡°The secret of the world is this. The Grand Council are liars and our world is built on fabrications and falsehood.


    You know of the man with the permanent sneer.


    He¡¯s known as an icon of shame. The one who rejected the Grand Council when they introduced Remarks and made it the worlds birthright. His actions flooded the world. But what they never told you is the man with the permanent sneer was not against Remarks.


    He was against conservatism. He was against half measures. And he was never a he to begin with. For he was Death, and as we all know Death is a woman, and a very fine one at that.


    And Death was there when the Diving Bell broke free and entered Gehenna. And Death was beloved from the start.


    She spoke of the Visionary, the place Remarks come from. But Remarks are just the harvested drops of a massive sea. So much potential going to waste. She talked of bathing ourselves in it¡¯s marvels, of taking its majesty and wearing it like cloaks. Coating ourselves in it, enhancing ourselves, fortifying ourselves until we were monsters that could go toe to toe with the real monsters.


    Death had many compatriots in those days. True allies who understood her mission. I was one of them, no, I knew of- I was, I was, I was-¡°


    Morgan coughed violently. Overcome with emotion, Yucian Vast reasoned. The emotion came out as black bile that dripped from his mouth onto the large dais in front of him. Morgan looked up at her, but where once there was great wisdom there was now just a dull confusion.


    ¡°Apologize.¡± Daaz said, slapping the man before removing the overflowing bowl and replacing it with a fresh one. Quertra stood behind him, ready with another dose if it came to that.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m terribly s-sorry¡± The man who surely was no longer Morgan said, sounding more pathetic with every word. ¡°Wait¡­ who are you all? Where is-¡° He screamed as Quertra injected him straight in the tattered old spine. Within seconds the serum had done it¡¯s work, and both he and his cloak looked fit as a fiddle. Those milky white eyes were back, so gentle and comforting.


    ¡±I do apologize. Now where was I?¡±


    ¡°About Death, the way she would wrap herself in coats of Remarks.¡± She said, practically purring. Yucian sat kneeling only a few feet away, still giddy with the knowledge she would become the forth Constant. It felt almost as good as winning the election. Which, sure, was easy since the previous Mayors death, and all the other candidates had died or gone missing, but she was popular and had kissed many babies and would have won no matter the circumstances.


    Morgan had said so herself. He was so happy she supported what he was doing in the city. She saw the vision.


    The basics of Morgans condition had been explained. Sometimes their great leader got taken over by an idiot, it was awful but that was the type of people the Grand Council were, who had poisoned him long ago. They had demonize Death, they had demonize Wyrms. They would surely demonize their own brothers and sisters.


    ¡°Right.¡± The cloak shifted like sand as Morgan talked, the two complimenting each other like a poet and their muse. ¡°Well not quite, you see Death did not necessarily like Remarks. She used one, of course, but her goal was always to break free of those limitations and become one with the Visionary. And that is our goal. To become clothed in Vision.¡±


    ¡±Is that what you wear?¡± She said eagerly, pointing at his Wyrmskin cloak.


    He raised a scarred eyebrow, like she had spoken out of turn. ¡°No¡­ sentimental value.¡± He did not elaborate, and raised the large black spire, the Contrarians Needle. ¡°Are you ready to see the Visionary, and be clothed in it?¡±


    ¡±Of course.¡± She was hungry for it. It was such an honor to be taken in as a Constant and skip the Numbers entirely. It wasn¡¯t due to her position (a beneficial coincidence) it was due to her. A beautiful, strategic mind. And now she¡¯d have the physical power to match.


    But she frowned, realizing something had never been stated. ¡°But how will I see it?¡±


    ¡±Oh that¡¯s simple.¡± And he took the Contrarians Needle and stabbed her in the eye.


    ¡­


    It was surgery now. The Remark both the doctor and the scalpel, filling Yucian with it¡¯s essence as it scooped out what was unnecessary. She was protected by a force field of ribbons. Moving around her so fast they were almost invisible.


    Powered by the Contrarians Needle, it was no longer a Remark, but a conduit for a convergence. A secret handshake that merged at the bone.


    Atleast that''s what Adam figured. He was speaking in a uninterrupted info dump of terror.


    ¡±The pact she had made has cannibalized her. Something horrible flows through her now, she is being sculpted by malignant hands.¡±


    As ribbons of empty space flew around the metamorphing Constant, she casually placed a hand on her bulging Remark and sloughed off some of it, wrapping the pulpy substance around her now skinless arm.


    It didn¡¯t stop at the wounded area.


    ¡°The Remark is acting on it¡¯s own, finding imperfection in wherever it was not. We¡¯re watching a monster be born. Oh Curtain oh Curtain.¡±


    Hailien attacked. Her swing was caught by another paper strip, spun off as a reflex and holding her Remark hostage.


    ¡°And just like that, we¡¯re ready.¡± She yanked the strip back and Hailien spun in the air before landing with a crash. The boat sprung a leak.


    ¡°Now¡¯s your chance¡± Hailien screamed, righting herself up. She did something strange. She threw her sword at Yucian


    who dodged it easily, as expected.


    And then there was Hailien, sword in hand next to the Constant. This swing hit, disrupting the ribbons which burned away.


    Devon ignored that Hailien¡¯s teleportation broke all known laws of physics and cut across the growing monsters achilles.


    Blood came out like pages from a book, fluttering violently in the wind.


    ¡°She isn¡¯t human anymore.¡± Adam said. The implication was clear.


    Hailien chopped an arm clean off. The thing that could no longer be called Yucian caught it as it fell, quickly shaping itself into a dagger that pierced Hailien¡¯s side. She took the hit like a unwanted papercut.


    Devon was on her, frantically stabbing at anything halfway close to flesh. The substance of her Remark was tricky, attacking it just redistributed it.


    ¡°You are helping me grow.¡± Casually, she swiped at Devon like she was picking a nasty scab, the trail of blood that flew out from her face froze in midair. Like orbiting comets being pulled into a planets gravity, they moved closer to Yucian, compelled by her hand as she gestured them forward.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be distracted.¡± Adam said, ¡°You have control now.¡±


    But Devon needed to watch. Before her eyes the Constant own blood hardened into a new edge for the creature. Sturdy skin to protect from a similar cut. Despite her injury Hailien was keeping her cornered. Therefore occupied.


    The leak in the ship was becoming a puddle.


    ¡°Worth a shot.¡± Adam said, as if he was a thousand miles away.


    Dismounting off of the still growing Yucian, she twisted her head around to follow.


    ¡°Where are you going little Martyr? Don¡¯t think I forgot about you.¡±


    A small sliver of flesh that got sliced hopped after Devon. The scrap of Yucian transformed on a minuscule scale, anything to make it deadlier, teeth and eyes that became weapons that became cities that bled into turrets that were serrated. It leaped once it had achieved a perfect form, the edge of a blade.


    Bracing herself, she caught the thing (which hurt like misery) and submerged it deep into the water.


    It dissolved quickly. The essence of the Remark still tried to fulfill it¡¯s directive, adapting in this new environment. But there was too much water, and too little of itself. It managed some rudimentary gills before becoming a fine powder. And then nothing.


    Yucian howled. And it was not from one of Hailien¡¯s blows.


    ¡°By all means this can work, but this is a horrifying prospect.¡±


    Her Remark, even the smallest piece, was still her, and was still felt.


    ¡°What we are doing is far worse than simply killing her.¡±


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± It was unclear if the change was so gradual Devon hadn¡¯t noticed it till now, or if her transformation had suddenly taken an abrupt leap. Whatever the case, Yucian now resembled a large hairless cry wolf, her papery body looking like leather bleached white. Hailien was in one paw, pinned to the ground and yet still struggling.


    ¡°I am very aware.¡± Devon said, ignoring the Constant. She propped herself in front of the puddle, taking a stance that was killer on her knees but Adam resolved that quickly.


    There was commotion above them, probably those crewmates loyal to her, trying to save their Constant. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Funny.


    Even if they broke in, how would they recognize her? She was an Abberation in all but name.


    Bestial Yucian ambled towards then on all fours. Her eyes were unfocused, and she swayed to and fro, hitting the sides of the boat as she went. ¡°Your plan is to make me step in a puddle?¡±


    ¡°Desperate times.¡± Devon said. She didn¡¯t want Adam to speak anymore, even if Yucian¡¯s mind reading abilities were concerning, she didn¡¯t understand the drawbacks to her own Trick. Hailien stood up slowly and inched to the other side of the leak. It wasn¡¯t a puddle now, it was a watery break in the ships floor growing quickly.


    The monster that was once Yucian arced her spine back to laugh, her head flipped as her chin scraped the ceiling. ¡°You will drown here, and I will leave this place reborn.¡±


    ¡°Drownings preferable to being killed by a mangy crywolf.¡± She said with delight. ¡°At least I¡¯ll die clean, not stink like three days old catch.¡±


    ¡±YOU INSOLENT-¡°


    Not bothering to adjust her neck, Yucian¡¯s top layer grated away on the ceiling as she charged like a crawlcow starting a stampede, most of her head grinded away into a nub. Her eyes burned with fury. A new ferocious mouth was growing in her neck.


    The whole ship shook and seemed to stretch infinitely as the creature somehow found more and more space to pass before arriving at it¡¯s target. Devon could not tell if this was her fears or something else, but she accepted it as truth, for it was all she could do.


    At the last moment, as Yucian¡¯s neck jaws became the sky, Devon yelled ¡°now¡± and she jumped backwards across the hole, using Adam to widen the gap as she slid backwards. Hailien did the same, thrusting her own Remark back and breaking away the floor.


    Yucian Vast fell into the hole clumsily, a great big animal forced into a bath.


    It should be noted at this time that Yucian was the acting mayor of town. Potentially the biggest tragedy was there was no around to call for a snap election.


    As she flapped and flailed, Adam flew by, cutting her again and again, each mark considered and deliberate. Instead of healing, the overachieving Remark substance tried to convert the water. Not just the puddle, the sea it seeped out from.


    That was a sea thousands of miles long, rumored to be growing by the day. Yucian never had a chance. Within a minute one of her legs had dissolved and stained the water a strange grey. The substance had compromised and become concrete.


    Yucian screamed, not understanding what was happening outside of the pain itself. ¡°I am a Constant¡± she repeated endlessly. ¡°Constant Constant Constant.¡±


    Hailien took point around the hole, slicing at any piece of her that tried to escape. It was remarkably tedious work killing a god.


    ¡°Constant Constant Constant¡­ Constant COnstant¡­ Constant. All I wanted was to do good.¡± Her words were slowing down with her heart beat, pulsing so loud it rattled the walls. Only her face was above water now, the rest had become a thick paste she was trapped in. ¡°I was already running for office when Lemure came to town. It made sense to support him. It made sense to stop all elections once our victory was secured. Constantly mayor. I am Gutworth I am this city. I keep the ships running, I make the deals. I take the blame because someone has to. Please don¡¯t be mad at me.¡±


    Hailien struck the final bow. A clean cut across the neck. It fell to one side like a clay statue being toppled, dissolving slowly into a paste hardening by the second, now comparable to concrete pre mixing. Devon¡¯s vision grew blurry. There was no one there to keep away the pain, and now she felt it all at once. She lowered her head in unison with Yucian as the beasts massive mouth said one final thing.


    ¡°I knew the world''s secret¡­ how could I die?¡±


    .


    .


    .


    The most you need for a ships crew is five. One to keep the vessel sea-worthy, and four others to keep the first one company.


    Look here! No, look there! It is Collapse, the star sailor of the Fall Collective, the only one who¡¯s bothered to earn her sealegs. And seahands for that matter. Watch as she jumps from mast to mast, marvel as she yet again adjusts the wheel just so and prevents the ship from an untimely end. Wonder in sheer amazement at the fact that none of her crew mates have ever bothered to help her.


    Now be shocked at the surprisingly simple answer.


    They¡¯re busy, oh so busy engaging in what they call ¡°theatre of conversation¡±. It¡¯s an art, and that puts it above critics.


    Oh it took them a good week to workshop that title, but only a second to justify it.


    Understand thusly that Collapse never even set foot on a boat before she and her group commandeered this vessel, but she made it her mission to become its master. The fact that two years later they were all still in one piece was evidence that she was doing quite well.


    She ducked past Trip and Stumble to haul in one of the squishsnake houses. They were discussing the inevitable death of Gutworth, an evergreen topic.


    Seems like it was always on the verge of dying, but help any of them if it was ever truly defeated. The evil empire cut their checks, after all.


    ¡°No no no, you¡¯re misunderstanding me. Right. I understand that this isn¡¯t new, right? I would never dare to suggest this situation is unheralded. The reaction to it though. The reaction- now that is quite new.¡±


    With all the energy and vigor of a crawlcow farmer trying to sell a square mile of sewage, Stumble always committed to the bit.


    Even when she was wrong, even when she knew she was wrong, she would never let anyone get the last word. That didn¡¯t make her a great leader, but it did make her a leader.


    It helped that outside of her quest to never be viewed as wrong, Stumble was a kind person. She showed her appreciation in small ways, like leaving an extra sugar cookie for Collapse when they would go off shopping.


    Or making sure to bring back everything Collapse asked for for the ships maintenance, and then some.


    Of course, Stumble was not an expert at ship repair, and most of the ¡°extras¡± she bought back were useless or irrelevant, and there were ingredients in the sugar cookies that never sat right with her stomach, but it was the thought, Collapse had convinced herself, that counted.


    She heard the other side of the convo as she scurried back across. Trip came in with his dulcet tone, a pitch too low for anyone but him ¡°Lets make this clear, Collapse, get this on the record.¡± She manifested her remark to sign back ¡°I¡¯ll try¡± before opening up the side hatch and lowering herself into the kitchen, she still heard the conversation through the ships membrane.


    ¡°You¡¯re willing to go on record that you think this will matter?¡±


    ¡°Fuck, Trip, doesn¡¯t everything? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re one of those Confabulists.¡±


    ¡°Their literature is persuasive and far more coherent than you¡¯d think, but you¡¯re playing to the audience. Where do you see the Legacy after this is all over?¡±


    The squishsnakes were a bitch to cut, boneless but with pseudo keratin that could serve as such when neccesary, chopping them up was a exercise in trial and error.


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna be taking names and kicking ass, hopefully with a sixth member finally. You know I¡¯ve actually been eyeing-¡°


    ¡°Cease with the daydreaming, yes or no, will the legacy exist?¡±


    She aimed for what she assumed was the head, and the dammed thing slithered into itself. Her knife sliced down on the washboard, adding another cut of many into the linoleum. No worries, her Remark did the job in a pinch, and the thing was cut in twain.


    ¡°Thats not for me to say.¡±


    Now they could be cooked. She hit the side of the wall and turned the boiler on, heating the washboard so that it hurt to the touch. What was left of the squishsnakes sang.


    ¡°Then what impact will he have? Not to be presumptuous, but the threats already over. He¡¯s dead, we have what is at best a surrogate. This girl who got his Remark. And she¡¯s not- she¡¯s not a fighter.¡±


    With the food all set, it was time to babysit the rigging. Plunge handed her a spare pin as she passed. The girl was leaning against the bow, poised to fall if the wind shifted even slightly.


    ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± Plunge said, keen on the conversation. Her drawl and clipped accent hailing from a place she kept ambiguous. Collapse was convinced it was entirely a put-on, and she was from GutWorth, like the rest of them. ¡°Have you seen her fight, or have you only seen her avoid them?¡±


    The ropes were all diagonal angles, either crossing up or down. The design was one she inherited, and she never tried to deviate from the criss-crossed chaos, she simply upkept as well as she could.


    She tightrope walked over Plunge and Trip. They were face to face, heads practically touching, Trip looking liable to push her straight in. Collapse hung upside down and retied a fray knot.


    ¡°Okay, so she¡¯s Death incarnate or some crawlshit. Bad for us. We should get off this boat when we can before she murders us all.¡±


    Collapse frowned, she didn¡¯t want to consider that.


    ¡°¡±You¡¯re being alarmist¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being a parody of what you¡¯re suggesting. Why not just stick a knife in her and be done with it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s a threat.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯re on the same page.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think this is a harbinger? The end times does not signify the end, do you agree?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t agree with anyone peddling the idea that Adam constitutes change. He¡¯s dead. The only thing he changed at the end of his day was the rate of his own heartbeat.¡±


    ¡±From normal to none. Hah!¡±


    ¡°And yet it doesn¡¯t feel it! And thats my point!¡± Stumble lifted up her collar to reveal her bulging vein number. ¡°Our numbers are still frozen, no one is celebrating him biting it¡± She put her hands on her hips and turned away in that classic Stumble way of declaring victory. ¡°If this is over, the boss sure is slow on the uptake.¡±


    Collapse counted Trip¡¯s reply with her footsteps. She had retied two lines before he finally had a retort, and it wasn¡¯t worth the wait. ¡°So are our paychecks, but he always comes through.¡±


    Dive barged out from the interior just as Collapse was running back to the bow of the Eggshell, their speed and direction synced as he approached Stumble.


    He leaned in and whispered something.


    ¡°And furthermore¡± Trip said, ¡°Doesn¡¯t this put us in the upper echelons of the numbers at this point? Or well, close enough.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going with this?¡± Whatever Dive was whispering to her, the others didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°It takes time to work out such a major shift in the power structure. Hell, I think Hailien is the new 41.¡± He said this with a happiness that seemed to surprise him, as he course corrected by taking on a more dour tone. ¡°But it¡¯s a process, things need to be adjusted, files need to be written¡±


    Meanwhile, Collaspe had taken out her knife and was getting rid of the barnacles that plagued the front of the ship. It wasn¡¯t an issue now, but without routine maintenance they would start chipping the wood, then creating holes, and the most undignified death for a sailor is dying cause your ship sprung a leak.


    ¡°Stumble, he¡¯s been whispering into your ear for like a minute, what message could possibly be that complex?¡±


    After the successful removal of a half dozen, she fought a particularly stubborn one to a draw. It detached from the boat, but the tip of her knife went with it. Signing to herself a secret curse, she climbed back to the deck of the ship. There was a change in mood, but addressing it could wait. Whatever had been whispered had been shared, also in a whisper, apparently. Whatever.


    She went to open the hatch, about to ask Hailien for a replacement, and Trip took out his remark, lodging it into the grating.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot to discuss, but first off we don¡¯t go down to the lower decks anymore until further notice. And um¡­ we leave the Constant in there if she¡¯s not dead in an hour. We¡¯ve been told to burn the boat if Hailien dies.¡±


    Dive and Plunge, quite the odd couple, worked together to pick up some cargo crates and place them over the other hatches. She could see movement that was bright and concerning. Some massive white thing with claws and teeth. Trip used a handkerchief to tie shut the one beneath him.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± She signed.


    ¡°The inevitable. What do you think?¡± He took out his card, the one that showed their true loyalty. ¡°Fuck Morgan, fuck the Legacy. We¡¯re loyal to Hailien and each other and no one else.¡±


    The others already had there¡¯s out. All except for Dive who explained hastily that his was in his other trousers.


    Understanding, Collapse took out hers, and signed that it really was about time.

 Chapter 17: Making Friends For The Habitually Violent

    She woke up.


    The giant canine head of Yucian Vast was now a featureless mound of paste bulging out of the floor. Adam floated into view, his point centered on her eyes. Behind him was Hailien, standing dramatically on the mound with her Remark in hand. Around her, all keeping their distance, were the sailors she saw earlier. They had their remarks drawn, a diverse mix, but more a custom than a threat.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been out for long.¡± Adam began. ¡°The sailors are on our side. They said we¡¯re safe here and can stay as long as we want.¡±


    She was in no danger, somehow this disappointed her.


    ¡°They¡¯re all goddamn monsters.¡± The surge of anger gave her energy free from Adam¡¯s influence. Forcing herself up from the ground, she managed a few steps before falling. Adam changed her positioning so she landed on her hands.


    ¡°You need to heal. I¡¯ve done my best and nothing important is broken, but there¡¯s a level of damage there that can only heal through time.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that. I want back in.¡± She looked at the mound and spat on it. Frustratingly unrecognizable, but she liked to think a part of Yucian Vast was still in there, screaming.


    She hated her. Her face everywhere, her voice the first thing she heard in the morning, crowing about those killed in duels and reminding them all who was in control. She wondered, now that she was dead, would they get someone else to do it, or simply rerun old announcements? Surely no one would notice.


    ¡°We killed one we can-¡° She hesitated.


    What the fuck was she saying? That was just one Constant. Devon had only won through luck and surprise. None of them would be that easy, and Yucian was a terrifying foe.


    As for lemure¡­ he was on a level far above all of them.


    ¡°Will you fill us in on this conversation?¡± Said one of the sailors. They had remarkably difference appearances and features. The one who talked wore a lower third mask that went down to her neck, and possibly below that. Her rectangular face was framed by heavy black bangs that resembled a helmet.


    ¡±I¡¯m¡± She coughed, her vocal chords far better at clearing themselves under Adam¡¯s direction. It only took one cough and now her throat felt brand new. ¡°I¡¯m just talking to myself, speaking outloud, don¡¯t worry about me!¡± Pacing herself, she got up again, and this time managed to stay on two feet.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t take a Council Member to know you¡¯re talking to your Remark. Hailien filled us in.¡± Said another, this one had small red oval glasses covering smaller eyes. The rest of his features were small in the same way, leaving a lot of empty space on his olive colored face. ¡°So that¡¯s Adam¡­ in Remark form. I expected him to be bigger.¡±


    One of them ducked below the mound with a giggle. In a moment of sheer terror for Devon she popped back up directly in front of her face.


    She had wild yellow hair tied into two curly tails, and a wide smile that stretched from ear to ear, she talked directly at Adam, yelling into him like he was a mic. ¡°So is it true what they say, that you¡¯re Johann Remainder reborn? If you are, we¡¯re in need of a sixth!¡±


    She was surprised, she knew the name well. ¡°What, is he back?¡± Johann was a folk hero who killed a Constant, a reminder that being chained to lemure did not mean you had to abandon your ideals.


    ¡°I¡­ never went by Johann¡± Adam said


    ¡°He said he never went by Johann, so no¡± she said, gesturing to him.


    They all groaned, suddenly disinterested.


    ¡°Well that confirms it.¡± Said a spiky haired youth with a red nose. Devon immediately disliked him. ¡°This Adam dudes just a nobody, and this girls just some chick who found his remark and got-¡°


    She pressured Adam to put her body in overdrive. Power and motivation rushed through her body like a cool refreshing breeze.


    With only a running start of a few feet, she jumped in the air and did a backflip, planning to land next to him, grab the kid by the neck, and hold Adam to his throat.


    The dismount from the flip was easy, Adam made seemingly impossible feats possible. On command fight or flight, her body stretched to its limits.


    The landing? Well, there were those limits.


    She landed on her feet, but the impact immediately hit her legs, fracturing bone.


    Not even Adam could dull the pain that followed. She crumbled to the floor, yelling an expletive or two. It was not the impression of a badass who had her shit together.


    ¡°I just told you we need to rest.¡±


    ¡°Well, fuck you, I thought I didn¡¯t!¡± She screamed. Her only comeback being admitting she had not thought it through.


    Having just witnessed a terribly botched attempt to make herself seem cool, the crew rushed to her aide. They had a first aid kit they must have already been planning on using. Hailien stayed on the mound, observing this like a coach letting their worst player get hazed.


    After a moment of loud and contentious disagreement, they put a metal boot on the damaged leg. Within the span of an annoyed exchange, the color of the boot shifted from red to blue. She wiggled her toes once the boot was removed. All better.


    ¡°Well, that didn¡¯t take long¡± she got up, she could feel the force that was Adam working to distract her body from the aches and pains it still experienced, but he didn¡¯t need to try as hard as he did before the impromptu medical treatment. The crew parted, preparing to head back up.


    ¡°Hey, spiky hair.¡± Devon said.


    She raised Adam towards him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is necessary¡±


    She ignored Adam. ¡°Lets duel. Not to the Death, but in her vicinity. How about it? If I really am a nobody, then a nobody should be easy to fight.¡±


    ¡°I understand the impulse, and I think you would be able to handle it, but these people are not our enemies¡± Violence doesn¡¯t need to equal conflict, she thought. Already she was twisting this grudge into an attempt to bond with them. She had never been in a duel before, not a real, official one. Skirmishes with Norman didn¡¯t count. Not when her Remark was a dead fish.


    The boy shook his head, looking more reluctant than she expected.


    ¡°Come on, Dive, she¡¯s asking for it!¡± The one with the big mouth said. The others got excited, as excited for violence as the average Gutworth citizen, and they egged him on with variations of the phrase.


    ¡°You¡¯re remarkably confident here. Which by all means you should be, you seem stronger than him.¡±


    ¡°Thanks¡± She took a stance copied from street fights she had been on the periphery of, with Adam wedged between two of her fingers like brass knuckles.


    ¡°But that means this is not a test or show of strength than it is a way to flatter yourself. An impulse I understand but don¡¯t think should be trusted as readily as you do.¡±


    ¡°My Adam here wants to stab you in the heart and rip it out slowly. I¡¯ll try to keep his bloodlust in check.¡±


    From Adam, all she heard was a long sigh.


    Feeling pressured (and thrown off by Devon¡¯s words) Dive took a mirrored position, his left hand the dominant, sans Remark. ¡°My Remark is really for support, it doesn¡¯t make sense to use here.¡± He admitted. Boos and heckling from the sidelines.


    ¡°He has an impressive temperament. Lets not injure him permanently.¡±


    ¡°But if I do?¡±


    ¡±Yeah, uh, you can use it. It¡¯s fine.¡± Dive said, assuming she was talking to him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not your conscience Devon, I¡¯m just stating my thoughts.¡±


    Hailien was sitting on the mound, watching with such acceptance it was like she had seen this exact moment play out before. Devon hoped, after she won, the towering girl would talk to her. Maybe congratulate her, but she would be happy simply with an acknowledgement. She had killed a Constant after all.


    ¡°So please¡±


    Someone yelled, and she took that as commencement. Even a distracted Adam, in the middle of a speech she had no interest in, was still Adam, and she used his ambient strength to double her speed, going for a cross body blow straight at Dive¡¯s raised fist.


    It would have been foolish if not for Adam himself, his pointy end lodged in her fingers stabbing Dive in his. It gave him a bloodied pinprick right below his third knuckle joint.


    ¡°In a friendly duel like this one-¡°


    He yelped and broke his guard. Devon wasn¡¯t used to having this sort of advantage. By the time she recognized the opening, it was closing, and she glazed his raised fist again. Wincing, he aimed for her chest but checked her shoulder.


    ¡°Whatever you do, or make me do-¡°


    Forced into movement, she trotted around him, glazing the crowd and making his attacks more conservative, his swings restained and easier to stay on top of. She got appreciative pats from the crew as she did so, the fight she was putting on more important than where their loyalties lied. He couldn¡¯t move that fast, and she tackled his shoulder and pushed him to the ground.


    ¡°For the love of the world, Devon¡±


    On top of him now, she was fighting the only way she knew how, desperately. Punching his face, again and again. He got a few swings in, and so she went harder. The motion was so easy, made so exhilarating, that she didn¡¯t see a reason to-


    ¡°I would like you not to kill him¡±


    She stopped. Adam held over her head like an executioner''s blade.


    Breathing heavily, she dropped him with a clang.


    Without his energy, her exhaustion was far heavier, and she put her hands down to prevent falling on her opponent. Dive looked up at her, confused that he was still living.


    ¡°Do you yield?¡± She asked.


    ¡°O-of course.¡± They participated in a short but complex series of movements to entangle themselves from each other.


    Someone made a disappointed groan. Honestly in poor taste. ¡°I had ten orbits on you biting it Dive, thanks a lot!¡± Only the reserved signer came to his aid, administering bandages and casts left over from their supplies. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Now out of the battle, Devon kept replaying the same moment over and over in her mind. The moment before she ended it, when her arms were raised, and death was still an option. Adam hadn¡¯t said anything to her, but she could tell by the feeling of him that he was grateful she hadn¡¯t done it.


    Devon didn¡¯t know how she felt.


    ¡°You grew up near the alleys, didn¡¯t you?¡± Hailien was behind her now. She hadn¡¯t seen her move, neither had she heard her. The sailors faded into the background. They were more concerned with berating Dive as he was nursed back to health.


    Like a startled crawlcow she jumped and turned, the motion effective but far from elegant. She tried her best to make herself seem tall and capable. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve fought before.¡±


    She hadn¡¯t outside of today. Nothing more severe than reacting against bullies, and none of those encounters went well or lasted long, except for beating Norman twice.


    Hailien nodded, seeming to buy it. ¡°You have the instincts for it, and the power to back it up. I assume the Remark helps with that. How long have you had it?¡± She raised her arm and twisted her hand back. At that moment, the crew made their way towards the closest hatch, moving in stops and starts that made their eventual exit seem accidental.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to lie here either¡± Adam said, the most forceful she had heard him be.


    ¡°It¡¯s always been mine.¡± She grimaced when Adam responded with a resigned chuckle. She preferred herself as she was now, everyone did, why admit she was ever anything else. ¡°The one they called Adam was an extension of my remark, a corpse I was puppeteering.¡± She smiled as she said it. It felt good to claim it as a truth.


    Imagine if she did have that power.


    Hailien cut her bullshit short with a swing meant to decapitate. Clipping the side of the boat, and slicing off hair at the top of her head.


    Adam backpedaled Devon¡¯s body, moving her through awkward jumps and skips until she was at the downward edge of the room, panting furiously. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± She yelled.


    ¡°A punishment for liars. You¡¯re Devon Near, only just recently was made the newest number. And only just recently having gotten that Remark from Adam.¡± She rolled her shoulders ponderously, the motion was so exaggerated it was like a automaton being tested. ¡°Congratulations by the way, you just made the worst mistake of your life. They haven¡¯t put the oil in you yet, so there¡¯s still time.¡± She had been wondering why a vein hadn¡¯t sprouted in the shape of a number.


    Adam darted out of her hand and made its way to Hailien, moving in and out of her range of motion like a energized floatrat. Devon could do nothing but stick to the wall and watch, suddenly powerless. It was not fun to revisit.


    ¡°This is proof enough, but we need to be on the same page. So-¡° A grunt, Hailien was on the defensive, not fully aware of Adam¡¯s capabilities, or the level of independence he had. ¡°Brandish your Remark, your real one.¡±


    Flying away to build up speed, Adam careened, appearing to be aiming for all the world to plow right through Hailien¡¯s stomach. Her Remark was an effective shield, keeping her body safe as the impact and momentum caused her to skid backwards, stopping only inches from Devon. Adam had a lot of power, and he kept Hailien locked in that position. Meanwhile, Devon, feeling a lot weaker without his help, ran towards her with her own remark, the dead fish that felt just as useless as it always had been. (Through there was something about it that felt more¡­ substantial?)


    Awkwardly, the fishy blade was placed at Hailien¡¯s neck, the lips puckered around her metal hinge. Pressured by Adam coming closer and closer to breaking her guard, she slowly lowered her Remark, and raised her hand in surrender as it faded from reality.


    ¡°I yield. But I wasn¡¯t even trying.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care¡± Devon said, panting, exhausted from such a short fight. ¡°We won. We killed your Constant. And now, with nothing but kindness, I¡¯d really like it if you let us off at Luminescia.¡± Or maybe Gutworth, maybe she already was strong enough to kill Morgan.


    Hailien simply stared, the look she gave made Devon¡¯s blood boiled. ¡°It¡¯s not that easy.¡±


    Before Devon could respond, Hailiein¡¯s Remark appeared again. She threw it.


    On the other side of the room, Hailien caught it. Somehow, she had outraced her weapon to the other side.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t use my trick, and you would have died if it wasn¡¯t for Adam. You don¡¯t deserve to go anywhere, not yet. And¡­ you have two remarks.¡± She smiled, an impressive expression to pull off for one with a metal lower jaw. ¡°Am I correct in calling him a parasite?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no harm in telling her.¡±


    She relented. ¡°He¡¯s a remark who can make bonds with people. Has his own brain, I guess. Even when they die he¡¯s still in control of the body.¡± She tapped her chest. ¡°I¡¯m still getting used to it, but right now it¡¯s like, I¡¯m at the front of the ship, and he takes over when it¡¯s necessary.¡±


    She didn¡¯t seem impressed. ¡°Understood.¡± She put her Remark behind her. It stuck to her back without the help of any straps.


    ¡°Do you think.¡± She said ¡°That a ship is only as good as it¡¯s captain?¡±


    Devon knew her answer would be pointless. She could tell just by the tone, Hailien already had an answer locked and loaded, and anything she could say in response would only delay the punchline.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like that metaphor. I¡¯m not a ship.¡±


    She had a different take on who the ship was supposed to be, but didn¡¯t want to argue with her passenger. ¡°You¡¯re trying to bait me into a fight, a real fight, not gonna fucking work. You can¡¯t expect me to be anywhere close to you strength wise.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    Devon shook her head, this question was ridiculous. ¡°Because I spent most of my energy every day on doing my job, anything left over was used to guarantee I didn¡¯t go insane.¡± The few hours she had to herself, well, the attention box that came with her room always seemed to know what to show her. During her downtime, it was easy to forget that she even had qualms that needed to be addressed. She wished this was a show she was watching, she could get all the highs without any of the lows.


    Hailien bought her hands up. ¡°A remark is only as good as it¡¯s wielder¡± she punched the empty space in front of her, her strikes so quick and precise that Devon swore she could hear the air splitting. ¡°I was a hole puncher.¡±


    Devon was familiar. During the worst days at the diner, she could always take comfort in the fact that she wasn¡¯t a hole puncher (known by the Legacy as a hole attendant, cause it was nicer). The job was to take watch at one of the many holes that peppered the drum. Holes too small for another human to enter, but big enough for an Aberrant, or even a malformed Contender. If anything crawled out, you killed it.


    Anything with too many teeth, or muscles strong enough to tear, were to be reported, confirmed, and then left for the nearest Number to deal with. The turnover rate for such a job was high, but very few people had the chance to quit. Knowing this was her background explained more about Hailien than her actions ever could.


    ¡°early on I realized I was undersized and underfed, an awful realization. Nothing in my life before this could have prepared me. Certainly not in a way more forward than an Abberant popping out like a tragedy, reducing me to a newborn screaming on the ground just before a much stronger friend massacred the thing that by all rights .¡± She cracked her knuckles one by one, each with a sound like a cannon shot. They were not done fighting, not by a long shot. ¡°Confide in me your life. Whats your variation?¡±


    ¡°My Father was stabbed to death in front of me.¡±


    ¡°By Abberants?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Devon had never seen one, through she had often heard their screams at night, they would climb as high as they could on the other side of the wall and wail. ¡°By you.¡± At the end of the day Hailien was a member of the Legacy, and she was complicit.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± It was a genuine response. So genuine that it seemed to surprise Hailien herself. She cleared her throat before continuing. ¡°I think you know my story after that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the second of two people that makes me think being a Lemure doesn¡¯t instantly turn you into a psychotic loser.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m sorry I mislead you. Joining them is an awful idea and it will turn you into¡­ something you won¡¯t recognize.¡± She paced from right to left while talking. When she got to a wall she acted surprised, and would turn back reluctantly. ¡°Lemure¡¯s Legacy is Lemure¡¯s bloodbag. He is old and infirm, and his worst impulses are slowly taking him over. We need to give him injections just to keep him lucid, did you know that?¡±


    Devon shook her head, through there were rumors. ¡°I knew that instinctively. Leaders almost never deserve their reputation. Especially those that rule by force. It¡¯s insecurity expressing itself as a cancerous mass that will continue to grow unless kept in check.¡±


    ¡°The voice in my head has some dangerous ideas.¡± Devon said with a smirk.


    In response, Hailien punched her. It was a punch without any warning or mercy. The enhanced senses and reaction time Adam gave her was enough for her to clench her jaw, but nothing more than that. She fell hard, hitting her head on the harsh carapace of the floor.


    ¡°There was no need for that¡± Adam said in Devons voice. Before she hit the ground he was out of her hand and once again attacking Hailien, his target where her body went from metal to flesh.


    The pain only got bad when he was gone. Devon was too busy trying not to cough up whatever was lodged in her throat to see Hailien catch Adam in her hand. A fountain of blood burst from the back of her hand, but Adam stayed trapped in her grip.


    ¡°Call him off¡± Hailien said. Her enclosed hand moved oddly, like it was about to erupt.


    When was the last time she ate? It didn¡¯t matter, she just got punched. Focus on that, Devon. Focus on being in a boat with a woman who you killed a Constant with, she thought, and figure out fast if you have to kill her as well.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t right. Shouldn¡¯t we be¡­ helping each other, helping me, atleast?¡±


    ¡°I have only been helping you..¡± She said this like it was obvious. ¡°But you haven¡¯t been helping yourself. How can you hope to defeat the other Constants when, by your own admittance, you¡¯ve never trained for such a thing.¡±


    ¡°I told you.¡± She said, frustrated. ¡°I didn¡¯t have anytime, I-¡°


    ¡°Thats an excuse and you know it. They murdered your dad, revenge should have grabbed a hold of you and molded you into a weapon long before our meeting. I should be dead, killed by your hand. Now tell him to stop and we can make up for wasted time.¡±


    ¡°Fine¡± Devon threw up her hands, wobbling a bit from the sudden shift in positioning. ¡°By all means Adam, stop tearing her shit up, I need to get stronger first.¡± She really did, as much as it pained her to admit it ¡°and she¡¯s the only one who can help¡­ apparently. So no more murder.¡±


    ¡°I do prefer that¡± Adam floated out. The inside of Hailien¡¯s hand was a battlefield. She closed it quickly, and did not seem to feel what looked like immensely painful wounds. ¡°While I hate that our path forward requires violence. We certainly can¡¯t leave this place. I¡¯ve seen the history, what they¡¯ve done to it, and you yourself, you know first hand.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s stopping us from leaving right now, killing all of them that remain.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± Hailien said. She had changed her position, now she stood in front of the closet hatch up to the deck.


    ¡°Wait, you called him off just to make me fight you again?¡±


    ¡°A stipulation, like I said. Show me that you¡¯re strong without him. He can use his trick to heal you and numb the pain, as well as provide you with quicker reflexes and skill as needed, but nothing more than that. Is that something he can do from range?¡±


    ¡°I believe so. One moment.¡± Adam moved away from her to the other side of the room, the way he did it, slowly floating away on a horizontal line, was almost comical.


    ¡°Oh you¡¯re going along with this quickly aren¡¯t you.¡± Devon said, as annoyed as she was amused.


    ¡°What she¡¯s saying makes sense.¡± Adam admitted. ¡°We got lucky with that kill. You¡¯re smart Devon, I am happy to be bonded with you, but¡± Wanting to be gentle, he chose his next words carefully. ¡°I was controlling not only your motor skills, but the choices you made, outside of using the hole at the end. But the strength you had, most of that was me by necessity.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what I did with my free time?¡±


    ¡°Work on being an asshole?¡± She was finding a wit in her that she had been denied for years.


    ¡°I punched walls¡± She opened the hand that Adam had bruised. A canvas of scars and wounds.


    ¡°Only some of it was the work of your friend, the scars he made joined countless others. I hit the strange metal of the wall, starting with a clenched fist, then I moved on to hitting them open handed, partly because that seemed like a logical progression, and partly because I was a very very vert angry young woman. Only things that hurt felt truthful to me back then.¡± She looked up, not at anything in particular, just up. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I can say I¡¯ve changed much.¡±


    She focused back on Devon. ¡°My point, if I have one, is that you are not yet strong. You want to fight and kill the other Constants, that is a worthy goal and I support it, but you can¡¯t expect to replicate that success five more times in your current state. You do not get strong through a remark, you get strong through making an effort to do so. It¡¯s not fun, but I have good news. I think strength will suit you well.¡±


    Devon thought about this. She saw the parallels with her obsession with the flame, the way she trained herself to tolerate pain. For once she didn¡¯t ignore what the girl was saying out of principle. ¡°It¡¯s just hard.¡± She said after a moment. ¡°It¡¯s fucking hard¡­ I wanted so badly.¡± She clenched her hands into fists. They hurt more than she could bear. ¡°I wanted to end today with Lemures head on a pike.¡±


    ¡°Would you settle for six months, maybe five?¡±


    ¡°Fine then¡± She put her hands down. ¡°I don¡¯t need Adam, I¡¯ll fight you¡­ just as me.¡± She sighed, not deluded enough to think she was a match. ¡°So no remarks.¡±


    ¡°And no Trick either¡± Hailien dismissed her, through the match still felt anything but fair. ¡°This will take atleast a few weeks, so lets lay down some ground rules, if I pin you, then we can consider that-¡°


    But Devon did not want to wait. She felt her only chance here was to surprise, and hopefully slip out without even have to fight her.


    Cowardly, yes, but she knew she wasn¡¯t strong enough to fight Hailien, and it was not a truth she was ready to confront head on. In her mind all she had to do was to prove she was smart enough to get out of here, and then, with Adam back in her control, she could do anything. If she needed more power, surely she would get that from beating the other Constant. There was something inherent in killing another, you gained their strength. She felt it now, running towards the hatch, Hailien yet to move a muscle, perhaps she didn¡¯t even need Adam now.


    ¡°It¡¯s not gonna be that simple.¡±


    Working with reluctance, Hailien stopped Devon with an open palm slam.


    Once again, she hit the ground hard. It didn¡¯t hurt any less the second time.


    The broad body of Hailien approach, made even more massive by this angle. She slammed a foot down on her shoulder. It seemed unnecessary. It wasn¡¯t like she was gonna get up any time.


    She got down low, and tilted up Devon¡¯s head so they were staring face to face. It was compassionate, and considered. ¡°By the time you walk out of here, and I¡¯m unable to stop you, then you can do anything you want.¡±

 Chapter 18: As Concerns The Conifers part 1

    As the Good Ship Eggshell made it¡¯s route through out of the way islands and partially abandoned outposts, they would often pass by an aquatic conifer, it¡¯s blue pine leaves brushing the top of their sails and giving them nuts that they could sell or smoke.


    The following passages are told at the pace of each pass of the conifer, not all of them happen with the Good Ship Eggshell, but they all happened at the rate of it¡¯s passing.


    First Passing


    *Wham*


    Another hit, this one sending Devon soaring. She hit the ground hard. Something broke. This wasn¡¯t the first time, and it no longer scared her. It would be fixed in a second, from one of the wraps they had in storage. Till then Adam did a decent job numbing the pain.


    ¡°Are you sure¡­ I¡¯m not gonna exhaust your guys supply?¡± Devon said in a whisper, wiping what she thought was spit from her mouth.


    ¡°It¡¯s a part of our regular pickups¡± Hailien said. ¡°We get it faster than you use it.¡±


    Hailien was back at the starting position, protecting the stairs by standing a good ten feet away. The whole thing felt like a hyper violent childrens game.


    Trying to rest, but not wanting to appear weak, Devon hobbled over to the white mound that once was Yucian, and put a stained hand on its side to steady herself, but played it off like a practical stretch.


    ¡°Alright, cool. In that case.¡± She bolted for it. The inertia kept her moving but it was clear this was a bad idea. Dammit, she didn¡¯t want to slow down. Hailien confidently took the single step, and the path was blocked.


    Devon lashed out. None of the rudimentary punches she had been taught, just wild aggression, attempting to cut down the massive Number with overgrown nails and kicks to the groin.


    Hailien took the scratches and bruises the way she took her punches, not even trying to block them.


    Hailien took a hand and clamped it around Devon¡¯s head, the pressure was too much and she fell limp.


    ¡°You fight like a cornered animal.¡± She said. ¡°Thats great. Excellent really. We can mold that into something powerful.¡± Devon looked down at her wet hand, she realized it wasn¡¯t spit.


    ¡°Anyway¡± She said, ¡°Have this¡±


    She threw her a towel for the blood.


    Second passing


    They had been going for ten minutes now. No stops. This was Devon¡¯s choice.


    She was getting fed up at how often breaks were needed. Without Adam pulsing through her she couldn¡¯t go a few minutes without a breather.


    She wanted, no demanded, that Hailien stopped going easy on her, and let her find and conquer her limits. Since voicing this complaint yesterday, the only time the fighting stopped was when she lost consciousness, and not a moment sooner.


    She was regretting this immensely.


    There was no rest, no way for Devon to take an timeout outside of getting herself knocked out.


    Hailien took any move as an attack, responding in kind. Within a minute of starting Devon all Devon could do was block.


    When that became too much she switched to running


    after that curling up into a ball, trying to make herself small until Hailien kicked her open for a sucker punch that was guaranteed to put her to sleep.


    Once she regained consciousness, she would get up on tired feet, and the process was repeated.


    A sweaty, sloppier version of it.


    The basics Devon had been taught felt like a cruel joke. Hailien had access to moves Devon did not know, and countermoves for the few she did. And the worst part was that Hailien never failed to be nice about it. Even when she was curbstomping her into the coral, there was a kindness there. The kicking your ass part of their relationship was just a formality. Helping Devon was what she really wanted to do, and she was helping her one punch to the face at a time.


    Hailien kicked her while she was down, Devon¡¯s midsection unfortunately open. ¡°I¡¯m not going for the kill this time. But your opponents will, they won¡¯t hold back.¡± She lifted her leg up for another kick.


    With barely any thought to spare, Devon surprised herself by tracking the trajectory. Through a month and a half of getting kicked daily, she could now tell when and where it was going to land. Not just the general direction, the exact spot.


    Like a overcompensating fisherman, Devon caught the foot in midair. It hurt like hell to have stopped that level of force, but all the momentum was taken out of the swing. And for a second, an exciting second, she was in control.


    ¡°Good job Devon!¡± Adam cheered, floating on the sideline.


    Even Hailien smiled, as much as one with an immovable lower jaw could.


    Then she yanked Devon forward, rolled her over with her free leg, and punched her in the gut. A mixture of spit and blood flew out of her like a geyser.


    ¡°You had an opening, and you didn¡¯t take it. You basked in glory that would have gotten you killed.¡±


    Devon groaned, getting the wind knocked out of her still sucked shit, even with a few additional pounds of muscle.


    ¡°But you¡¯re actually getting openings now, so that is progress.¡± she patted her contorting body. ¡°Good job.¡±


    Third Passing


    Morgan Lemure was staring at the rankings.


    They were depicted in flesh, self modified cultures that took the shape of thousands of individual strands communicating with each other, creating different colored lines that, taken together, could produce any image the person they were connected to want.


    He rubbed the part of his neck that had been injected, and looked at rankings that had remained the same for four whole weeks. Nearly a month. So many empty spaces, the highest rank 37, through technically 35, if the mutiny theory was correct. (He did not want to believe it was)


    And there, the girl who seemed to, somehow, be behind it all, or atleast the closest thing he had to a villain, Devon Near.


    Ranked number 1, her face taken in profile from a camera that caught her fleeing the hotel. She had the remark of Adam. She had used it to kill Yucian.


    She was out there, freely breathing.


    She was out there.


    ¡°Hey Boss I-¡°


    A spire of darkness pierced the wall so close to Daaz¡¯s head it caught tufts of her brown hair. ¡°The fuck?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry.¡± He said evenly. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting company.¡±


    But he was. Any minute now a mob could come in, an open rebellion, and they would be right to rebel. This was not one of his stronger years.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t Merry buzz you in?¡±


    ¡°Because Merry wasn¡¯t there¡± She sauntered past him, showing the disrespect she was famous for. That atleast was a welcome sign, perhaps things weren¡¯t that unheard of if Daaz Chesterfield still had zero manners. ¡°Bunch of people were showing up late, or not showing up at all. People are starting to realize the mayor isn¡¯t just on an extended vacation.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°And what use do they have for their jobs if they know there¡¯s no longer a figure enforcing it?¡±


    She turned to him, surprised. ¡°Was that really her role?¡±


    ¡°Head disciplinarian? Unofficially, but yes. Also dealt with paychecks, officially. She was adept at it. As she was at many things.¡± She wore many hats, lemure needed to start training replacements among his ranks, but he did not know the lower numbers that well, and the other Constants already had enough on their plates in terms of duties.


    Daaz¡¯s gaze settled on the screen. She hurried over to it and tapped on Devon¡¯s visage. ¡°What can we do about this?¡±


    ¡°I can prevent any of my power from going through her remark, something I¡¯ve been doing. Outside of that, I am limited.¡± He shrugged. ¡°You must understand I didn¡¯t think something like this would happen.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no kill switch?¡±


    ¡°No, she needs to be killed.¡± He raised a hand, and the flesh screen changed hues row by row until they were staring at a map of the drum, a yellow band appeared circled around Gutworth and the surrounding water. ¡°We know she¡¯s on the ship, as it has been spotted, but it¡¯s all been far too close to Luminescia. We cannot go there without destroying a treaty they only agreed to out of pity.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°That¡¯s weird, you¡¯d think the same courtesy would make it hard for the crew of turncoats.¡±


    ¡°No longer recognized as members, I doubt Lumenescia knows our roster, or cares. They probably took off or burned their uniforms.¡± He seemed incensed at that, clutching tightly a fist that leaked black liquid between the fingers.


    Daaz thought about this. ¡°Morgan, what if we had-¡°


    ¡°We¡¯d still need to find the ship, but yes, I approve that whole heartedly. Send her. Let¡¯s see what she can do.¡± The girl Daaz was referring to was flighty, and not all together trustworthy, but the Needle had made her strong, and if she died in the process it would not be an issue.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be dissapointed sir!¡± Daaz said excitedly.


    Morgan coughed once. Already leaving she turned quickly, her body frozen mid run.


    ¡°Chesterfield, have you heard anything from Quertra?¡±


    ¡°Nothing sir, only that she¡¯s still missing¡± Daaz rubbed her bare shoulders and looked to the side. ¡°I think she has a plan, I hope she does atleast.¡±


    Morgan coughed again. ¡°In that case, I have a request for you Daaz¡±


    ¡°Anything.¡±


    ¡°Find her.¡± Daaz nodded and headed out.


    Forth Passing


    Stuck below decks, Devon used meals to check the days. Squish Snakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. While the taste and the texture took some time to get used to, they were high in protein, whatever that was.


    They were also one of the few animals around that didn¡¯t contain prions, something that she said was a death sentence, even if it was slower than most. She had had 379 Squish Snakes, which roughly translated to 125 days, or around 4 months.


    The spars were getting easierish.


    Devon was no longer prioritizing escape, focusing on the fight itself. They all ended with her ass on the ground, naturally, but the time between getting her ass kicked was getting longer and longer. She was ¡°not a fast learner, but a studious one¡± according to Hailien. She was absorbing everything she was taught like a sponge


    Evenif it sometimes took time to build up the raw strength or ability to actually do those moves effectively, she memorized and would be able to utilize once it was possible.


    It felt freakishly beautiful to be good at something.


    Her body got better with every swing or dodge. Her feet no longer felt clumsy when she had to back up to avoid an attack. Her hands no longer felt insufficient when she would land a glancing blow.


    ¡°You¡¯re a harder target now¡± Hailien said. She punched the ground, denting the floor. Devon narrowly dodged it and moved into a crouch. After a moment of hesitation she tried running around Her opponent, angling for a chance to jump up on her back and wail on it. It was her go to strategy, for better or worse.


    Like always Hailien turned too quickly, and met Devons leap with two hands that caught her in midair. ¡°But you need to become impossible to catch.¡±


    *SLAM* The impact was enough to spring a leak. And left Devon¡¯s body in a painful upside down u shape. Some of the crew, who had been watching from the hatch came down and furiously scooped up some of the excess Yucian and placing it in the new gap.


    ¡°Adam¡± Devon said wearily ¡°I¡¯m gonna need you to numb this.¡±


    ¡°Numb what exactly?¡±


    She groaned, finding it hard to even speak. ¡°Fucking¡­ everything.¡±


    Thus ended practice for the day.


    Fifth Passing


    ¡°Footwork, remember footwork¡±


    She had learned something in the past month or so, don¡¯t go for the takedowns. They were in a situation darkly familiar to Devon. She was backed into the sloping corner, her blocking and dodging enough to keep her standing, but not good enough to control the flow of the fight. So now she was here, with space that was lessening with every moment that passed. She had to do something.


    ¡°Go between the legs and run¡± Adam said ¡°She won¡¯t expect that.¡±


    Always the pacifist in these fights, she wondered sometimes if it was due to a fondness for Hailien, or a man who had just recently found a distaste for blood. It didn¡¯t suit the image she had of him. The man who had killed a half dozen Numbers was a softie.


    She held out her hands in a grappling position, flaring her back and moving her feet so she was primed on her toes. Three weeks ago, she would have simply charged, and got a bodyslam as a reward. Two weeks, she would have feinted, and thrown a hook. That would have been met with a sprained wrist, and a kick in the head for the foolishness of such a maneuver. A week ago, attempt a takedown, probably the worst choice out of the dozens available to her. She was weaker than Hailien, would be for a while, it just left her open for a beating.


    Instead, she baited for a swing. Once Hailien obliged, she jumped back with force, rebounding off of the wall. Soaring across the room, she delivered a soft kick to Hailien¡¯s head, this changed her trajectory so that she was headed for the door, far past her. Once she hit the ground in a combat roll, she picked up running, fully intending to reach the door, forget the pain in her arm, a nasty miscalculation she would just have to deal with. She had gotten prestigious at ignoring pain.


    ¡°Thats good, thats very good¡± Adam said, not sounding particularly enthused.


    Well screw him, he was along for the ride. It excited her to have him feel how much she changed. With a speed that would have winded her before, she dashed towards the door. Her body was a machine now, her strength enough to one up a high ranking number. Not enough to fight her head on, but a foot race? Well, Hailien wasn¡¯t even following her. A glance back confirmed the behemoth of a woman was standing with her Remark raised, probably as a sign of respect. She was close to the hatch now, in leaping distance. Her training was over. She was ready.


    She uttered a curse of disbelief when Hailien¡¯s massive sword pierced the ceiling right besides the hatch. Appearing like a Remark, Hailien was suddenly there besides it, pulling it out with a satisfying crunch that littered the floor with chitin.


    ¡°Good job¡± she said. ¡°Now we can fight with weapons.¡±


    Sixth Passing


    Hailien snapped her finger, something she had never done before. ¡°We¡¯re gonna try something a little different.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re gonna actually try, you mean?¡± Devon said, panting excitiedly as she realigned her sprained left arm. Adam had been a godsend when it came to that sort of thing. While he could heal her body much faster than she could on her own, he understood her need for agency, and for the most part, his encyclopedic knowledge of on the fly fixes was all she needed.


    Her body itself had benefited greatly, like it had been waiting for this day.


    Devon was finally becoming the person she was meant to be. No longer was she lanky, but wiry. The slouching stiffness that had affected her when she had first met Adam now replaced with a limber flexibility, her body always in motion. Even standing in an idle pose, she couldn¡¯t help but shift her body side to side, rocking to a tempo only she could hear, Adam turned 90 degrees in her hand, ready to be used at a moments notice.


    ¡°Remember the good ol days, when I couldn¡¯t go an hour without coughing blood?¡± Devon said, ¡°Now that was fun! I actually feared for my life at points. Now though-¡° And here she moved into an arm stretch, arching her back and lifting her chin with a deep breath in. ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s still a challenge, but it¡¯s like¡­ doesn¡¯t seem like you¡¯re trying anymore.¡±


    ¡°You can leave at any time then.¡± Hailien said, not engaging in the attempt at banter. To show she was serious, she stepped away from the door.


    ¡°Why would I? Your great company.¡± She felt Adam scratch at her chin. He had a bad feeling about this, and she experienced it by proxy.


    Even if this was a trap, she had grown enough as a fighter to be able to get through it through brute force alone. She got down on one knee, taking a runners stance, before bursting into a run. Adam still wasn¡¯t affecting her movements, only helping mentally and when she requested it, and still she was running at a rate that had to be twice what she could muster at the start of all this.


    She couldn¡¯t help but give Hailien a shit eating grin, confident that her speed was faster than the distance the large woman could make up. But Hailien was already in motion, throwing her sword straight at Devon. This was new, in both ferocity and lethality. Sure she had never gone easy on her, but this could potentially kill her.


    She balked and crabwalked to the right in an undignified manner. Hailien used her trick to appear at the end of her swords arc, catching it in midair, she kicked Devon, already unbalanced, fully off her feet. She was prone now, she readied Adam to throw, but-


    It was too late, she saw that clearly. Even as Adam barreled into her left shoulder, it did nothing to stop the speed of Hailien¡¯s downward swing, aimed straight for her exposed torso.


    With one clean swing, Devon Near was cut in half.


    There was enough time to feel the sensation of her innards gushing out, before there was a snap-


    -and she was sitting in the same place, back in one piece. Hailien was back where she was with the first snap, looking at Devon curiously.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± It was the only reasonable response to being cut in half, ¡°What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK¡± she got up, almost falling over again.


    There were No bruises, no interior damage, no sign that it had ever even happen. It was like the whole incident had been erased from existence. It seemed almost criminal to have no physical evidence. She looked at Hailien pleadingly, hoping the woman would atleast do her the courtesy of acknowledging that what she had felt had happened.


    Adam was still buried in Hailien¡¯s monstrous shoulder, his little remark nub popped out, seeming confused.


    ¡°I felt the use of a Remark, are you okay Devon?¡±


    ¡°No I am NOT¡± She screamed. Stamping her foot, she bought Adam back to her hand, getting into the same stance as before. It bought her comfort to so quickly go back to old routines. ¡°I just saw myself die.¡±


    Hailien was composed and still. She looked like a statue of herself more than she did a person. ¡°I told you we would be trying something different.¡° She said, mouth remaining inert, her voice muffled behind her metal jaw.


    Trying to murder her was different. It was¡­ murder?! Nothing like what they had been doing. And yet Hailien had made it clear that her biggest regret was that she couldn¡¯t teach Devon what it meant to fear death.


    She was about to say something, get herself into a real yelling frenzy that may have ended in her going for Hailien¡¯s throat, but she composed herself. It may have been Adam, it may have been the now months long fighting regiment that had mellowed her out considerably, either way, she found herself understanding Hailien¡¯s logic. ¡°It was¡­ wait, it can¡¯t be your trick, yours is¡± She mimed the way Hailien would phase through reality using her sword, it was quite a complicated hand motion.


    ¡°Yes, this is another level to it.¡± She took out her Remark, it was sheer metal coming in at seven feet hilt to tip, ghostsilver metal emanating a type of metal that seemed to reflect light faster than it received it, making the surface seem like a sped up hazy reflection of what surrounded it. ¡°You see, when I snap my fingers, I¡¯m priming my body to act without incident. Nothing I do between then and when I snap my fingers again¡± she snapped them to demonstrate ¡°Will matter.¡±


    Devon nodded, trying to keep up. Really it didn¡¯t matter much to her outside of the fact that she wouldn¡¯t die. ¡°Okay¡­ but that- that still felt fucking real.¡± She let her guard down, letting loose an anxiety her body had been harboring since the cut had happened by dropping Adam and closing her eyes.


    ¡°I know¡± Hailien raised her sword. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to feel real.¡±


    Adam tried to warn her, but it was too late.


    Her head was sent flying.


    Hailien snapped again before it hit the floor, and it was like it had never happened.


    Devon was less surprised then she was angry. After taking in a panicked breath, she adjusted fast. Yelling as she ran forward, she was no longer attempting to get a sneaky victory by trying to escape. No, now this was personal. There was something uniquely shameful about letting an opponent kill you when death itself was no longer a concern. She felt a fire she hadn¡¯t felt in weeks. Finally, something that burned. Something worth improving for.


    Hailien snapped her finger, and they went again.

 Chapter 19: As Concerns The Conifers part 2

    Seventh Passing


    The parade was in full swing.


    The swing of the gallows as a dying man goes limp.


    Devon, Adam, who gives a shit they¡¯re both the same had torn the beating heart out of the Legacy and eaten it in full view of the lumpen. A Constant had been killed. The one who did was free. More attacks were imminent. That was the assumption, that was the prophecy, that was what people were betting on.


    Constant Clive Bowen was no different. He had put fifty orbits on another assassination before the week was out. It wasn¡¯t cruel to wish death on your compatriots, they called that being practical.


    He was surprised they had even gone through with the parade. Surely at this point any attempt at showing strength would be evidence of weakness? The Triumph Of The Wyrm was an annual event meant to celebrate Lemure¡¯s quote on quote vanquishing of a Death Wyrm. Being in the inner circle, Clive knew differently. He had to admit it was clever how vague the wording was. Who¡¯s triumph was it exactly?


    As expected it was no triumph this year. Only a dozen or so Numbers were still showing their face. A cloth and wire wyrm was the centerpiece, five or so people puppeteering its patchwork body as two reserve members chased after it with wooden swords. Clive would have been embarrassed, if he was one to care about such things.


    Things would be back to normal once that girl and her freak Remark were dealt with. The people lining the street, feigning interest or outright heckling, they¡¯d remember how to beg for servitude. Clive would teach them.


    He breathed through his nose, laughing. Actually, who was he kidding, he was way too lazy for that.


    ¡°They don¡¯t make public shows of strength like they used to¡± Clive said.


    ¡°Agreed. I think a true demonstration is in order.¡± Constant Karol Meager said. The massive man was behind him, everything but his bright pupiless eyes masked in darkness.


    A good 50 feet above the ground, they were standing beneath a massive carved angel of some kind, the face weathered from years of neglect. The curves of her dress and spikes from her shoulders shadowed them as they stood on the buildings outcropping. The angel some long forgotten deity, from when the diving or maybe the architect just thought it was pretty. The outcropping was wide enough that Karol could practically be right behind Clive. A flabby hand rose from the blackness to his right, and a tiny Remark in the shape of a straight razor was produced. So small, so un-intimidating.


    So deadly, so very deadly.


    Clive shook his head, doing a good job seeming unphased. ¡°Naw, lets not go there yet buddy.¡± The hand moved back into the darkness. By sheer coincidence, he saw Jeavell below him, attracting a crowd as the main body moved on. ¡°Looks like Jeavell about to make enough trouble for all three of us.¡± It didn¡¯t make him feel good to have a majority of the surviving Constants here. Prime assasination spot. If anything happened to the other two, he¡¯d surely get blamed.


    Jeavell Deth, the bad boy (and also girl) of Lemures Legacy. Slick black pompadour, rock hard chin, and a body perfect for the tightest leather jackets. He was coolness personified, and easily the cruelest person Clive had ever met.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, that¡¯s right, here¡¯s one Constant who¡¯s not afraid to show their face. How are my people doing?¡± He could hear her say from his perch. They flooded Jeavell like scavengers on a carcass, all wanting to get a chance to touch his skin, like her greatness would rub off on the unwashed masses. Jeavell¡¯s gender seemed to oscillate. At moments a tomboyish girl, and at others a svelte but very masculine heartthrob. Clive preferred when the light made them feminine. Easier to hate her compared to him.


    Anyway, this shit was classic Jeavell. Fucking text book. He made an art out of baiting fans to an early grave. It had become an honor to be killed by her. Despicable, disgusting work, and what bothered Clive the most was that he hadn¡¯t come up with it. In a lot of ways, his own cruelty had just been playing catch up.


    ¡°Who do you think it¡¯s gonna be?¡± Karol said.


    Clive considered this. He scanned the crowd, looking for the person who best fit Jeavel¡¯s love for the naive and nubile. He finally settled on a young looking blond girl who wore a purple ribbon over her eyes. Weird accessory, but she had a goofy smile and clumsy hands that made this seem like a harmless eccentricity. He didn¡¯t understand the youth.


    Ah who was he kidding, he had just turned thirty.


    Karol snorted in derision when Jeavell approached the ribbon girl, reaching out her hand for a private dance. ¡°I¡¯ll never understand that one. I was sure she would go for that lovely fellow.¡±


    He pointed at a figure at the far end of the crowd. With his large bulk and handlebar mustache, the man looked identical to Karol. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re her type¡± Clive said, hiding a smile.


    Karol was incredulous, and he blustered and blushed. ¡°Oh you think- the man I pointed to simply possessed the fine grooming and robust physical condition that marks one as a worthy mate. You take me for a narcissist Clive, but it¡¯s only his cleanliness I noticed. Nothing more. Honestly, the standards in this place.¡±


    Jeavell took the girl through the steps. Before long she was moving with him like they had been dancing for ages.


    ¡°You know what¡¯s about to happen, baby?¡± She whispered. Too far away to hear now but Clive could read lips, he had taught himself out of boredom. She bought out her remark, a mechanical thing of heat gushing smoke. Only a few faces in the crowd were surprised. Unless you were fresh out of the crack, you knew this was a death sentence.


    The girl nodded, but her eyes were fixated on something behind her. Where the parade had already traveled through, where people were already departing from, a float was coming down the path, this wasn¡¯t one he expected, nor did he think they had the budget or resources. Boy was it strange. A giant orange triangle was cresting it¡¯s way into view, moving slowly from behind a large abandoned building. Others were starting to notice. What was this?


    ¡°Hey Karol-¡° The massive Constant had his Remark out again, his hand thrust forward. Without a word Karol pushed Clive aside jumped down, using his Remark to cut the air near him and slow his fall, emptiness had a surprising amount of weight to it, you had to really put effort into cutting it. Clive had to take the stairs.


    There were narrow windows out into the street on each level he passed, allowing him to see, in a sort of stuttery fashion, how things were progressing outside.


    People were panicking now, they could see enough of the triangle shape to see that it had eyes and a mouth. The girl stayed calmed as Jeavell let go of her.


    The parade float was no float, it was a monster. A giant stories tall Abberation. There was someone riding it, someone wearing a conical purple hat that obscured their face.


    Fuck it. He bought out his remark. A piece of string that could cut through bone.


    He jumped out from the second floor, nothing but muscle memory to go by to gauge his success. He sent the Remark at the girl with the ribbon. She was dead anyway, and if he was right, he¡¯d be viewed as a hero. Her head came off without a fuss.


    By the time he hit the ground the strange grinding sounds from the Abberation stopped.


    The Abberation was gone. Potentially a hallucination, or even the girls Remark. He noted that with her death, her ribbon had disappeared, revealing closed eyes. The figure who was riding the Abberation was nowhere to be seen.


    Miracously no one had been hurt. Clive was always looking on the positive side of things. Assassination attempt foiled, but culprits and motivations unknown, and assumed still out there. This would do wonders for their recruitment.


    It was time they all took a trip. Fuck telling Lemure, Clive was getting bored, and he wanted to see this so called Constant killer himself.


    ¡­


    Eight Passing


    ¡±So you¡¯re known as a Constant killer now¡± Trip said through the grating, red spectacles glinting. ¡°We may have let slip some stuff a few stops ago. How do you feel about that?¡±


    Devon put a hand to her face and considered this. ¡°Well, I definitely am a Constant killer, so I¡¯m glad they have their facts straight. But really I think-¡°


    WHAM Hailien shoved a hand on Devon¡¯s face and slammed her into the grate. Adam fought valiantly on her behalf but once the sword went through her gut it was all over.


    *Snap*


    The pain vanished and Devon slumped down to the floor. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the irritated buzzing in her brain (three guess on where that was coming from)


    ¡±Aw man, I almost had her that time.¡±


    ¡±You obviously didn¡¯t¡± An annoyed Adam buzzed. ¡°You got distracted seconds in and then were promptly stabbed.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Well when you put it like that it certainly sounds bad.¡± Devon said, getting into her now familiar dueling stance. ¡°Consider the long game here, Adam. Last round got her off guard. Now she thinks I¡¯m not taking this seriously.¡±


    ¡°I can read your thoughts and most aspects of your body, you¡¯re not.¡± Hailien was standing near the stairs, used to the one sided rants Devon would go on at this point.


    ¡°Au contraire!¡± Devon said with a cheek straining grin. The truth was she wasn¡¯t taking it seriously, but she was having fun. More fun than she had ever had in her life. The sheer viscerality, the feeling of being cut and cutting into, the strength that grew with every day. All she had to do was kill a few people and now she was in heaven. An endless fight with no repercussions.


    She beckoned Hailien forward, not even running for the stairs. She wanted a duel today and the opportunity to flex a new muscle.


    Hailien charged over and jumped in the air being landing with a diagonal slash. Devon dodged it, hung in the air for a few seconds thanks to Adam, and came down on the former Number¡¯s head. Hailien blocked it with a blunt swipe and Devon jumped backwards, dismounting off the wall of the cabin onto the floor and right at Hailien¡¯s ankles.


    But before her swing could connect Hailien cut through her right arm. The hand holding Adam fell limply to the floor. Hailien readied a finger, about to click.


    ¡±Okay you¡¯re gonna hold that for a second.¡± Devon said, wincing through searing pain. The stump of her shoulder was spurting fresh blood and the crew watching from the grating were in a frenzy. ¡°I wanna try something¡±


    ¡±Devon you¡¯re close to blacking out. You just lost a limb, I think we should-¡°


    ¡°I¡¯m trying something, just hold still!¡± She hissed. Ignoring the pain, she concentrated on Adam. She had been able to control his movements before, but that was more relaying a message and having him follow it. What she was doing now-


    ¡°Oh. I understand¡±


    With stops and starts, Devon slowly raised Adam from the severed arms death grip. It floated slowly through the sky until it rested about two feet from her bleeding nub. She pictured her arm still being there, holding the Remark, and practiced moving it. With her will she moved Adam as if her arm was still there. He wasn¡¯t helping, this was all her. Her movements weren¡¯t perfect, but it was impressive considering how drained she was from losing an arm.


    Looking up at Hailien, she winked, and started fighting again like nothing had happened.


    It didn¡¯t take long till Devon had lost the other arm, but the snap back left her feeling invigorated instead of dissapointed. She knew the object was to escape the cabin and prove she was strong enough to take on the other Constants, but she had never accounted on how fun becoming strong would truly be.


    Ninth Passing


    36 sat at the steps of her favorite Reminder, waiting for the one who, in theory, should have been below her.


    In theory, she should have been calling the shots, not having to send him multiple messages that she had no way of knowing if he would see or respond to.


    The Reminders were what they called the massive artificial things that had been and would forever be fished up from the sea. Through by all account of a shape and size that should have made them heavy, they were shockingly light and easy to move. Their purpose was impossible to tell, all anyone could say for sure is that they were once parts of a larger whole, and somehow that whole had broke.


    They were reminders that the world was a very difference place before the Deluge. Even though it had been only four generations much had been lost, so much that even those who predated the Deluge, like Morgan Lemure, did not even know or could remember their purpose.


    It was a favored pastime to show the latest outsiders the newest Reminder they had fished up. That is until one sheepishly admitted they had many in their home town, and that almost every visitor previous were simply being polite and pretended to be impressed. She said they called them ¡°Gritytense¡±, a nonsense word imprinted in very large text on two of the pieces they had found. She admitted that, due to both the damage, and the way the word was cut off, they couldn¡¯t decide which way the two parts fit together, but they all agreed that ¡°Gritytense¡± sounded better than ¡°Tensegrity¡±.


    This one was her favorite because it resembled her hand. She had a defect hand, born with only four fingers, and this was a reminder that such things happened, and were okay. Its shape was like a rounded rectangle, there was negative space at the top in the form of three triangles pointing downward. While not a perfect match for her hand, she understood the connection, and that was what mattered. The collection of Reminders, around five dozen of them, were kept in a sand garden that overlooked the town. From where she sat she could see the port, Luminescia, and the massive ring of the Drum, its cool blue surface a better fit for the sky.


    ¡°So I find you here, at a memorial for macro fullerenes.¡± 35, Montanna as he asked to be called, then laughed, as he often did after saying something he knew was nonsense to anyone else.


    He acted like he had access to some secret knowledge, and the worst part was that he very likely did. He glanced up at her favorite, as if only now just noticing it. ¡°Very Wolfian. Their existence I mean, it¡¯s the thing that clued me in on what¡¯s really going on here.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this today.¡± She said. ¡°It¡¯s been a week, have you heard anything?¡±


    ¡°Since you¡¯re next in line for 41, shouldn¡¯t you know better than me?¡±


    She wrinkled her nose and didn¡¯t dignify that with a response. Lemure had been silent, so had the other Constants. There were strange rumors that half of them had left after that bizarre Abberation attack. She was glad she had missed it.


    35 sighed and bowed his head, taking off the bowler cap that hid his naturally messy hair. For all his faults, he respected the hierarchy, he knew who held the power here. ¡°Well Yucian is absolutely dead. Been able to confirm that through my usual sources¡± Sometimes he mentioned unusual sources instead, whoever they were was as unknown to her as his usual ones. Eventually she would have to learn their identities, befriend them. And once they were her sources, he would become unnecesary. Numbers didn¡¯t suit him, he needed a name, one better than Montanna, and a coffin to have it engraved upon.


    ¡°What did they tell you?¡±


    ¡°That that girl with Adams remark was the one who murdered her. Potentially with some help, 37 is either dead or in on it. The Fall Collective is definitely in on it, there boat hasn¡¯t been seen since, and there¡¯s reason to believe they might be in Luminescia, which would be unfortunate.¡±


    36 considered this. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t lifting a new Constant be his priority?¡±


    ¡°Yeah no way¡± 35 replied. ¡°He¡¯s been all about resisting change, he¡¯d rather turn to wyrm juice than actually acknowledge the devastation Adam, and now this girl, is causing. I¡¯ve heard he¡¯s been in a bad way recently, that mad side of him taking over more and more often. Most of the Constants are leaving, three of them went off to the Helot, who knows why.¡±


    It was frustrating news. She would be first in line for lifting, but that was irrelevant if there were no plans for it.


    ¡°That whole thing, the Constants, it¡¯s a pale imitation of what the other murder games are doing.¡± 35 said. ¡°Now those are games. 100s of contestants, what we call constants numbering in the dozens. Seeing them fight is a real treat. Here we¡¯ll be lucky if any of the Constants try to lift a finger.¡±


    ¡°They became Constants for a reason¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll die as their houses burn.¡± 35 took out a lighter as a visual. ¡°Their power is connected to their ranks. Take that away and they¡¯re weaker than reserves. We all know it, you hear whispers in the street. The proletariat is preparing to remake La Commune. They¡¯re in need of a Peter Watkins.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°Thats the most ridiculous name I¡¯ve ever heard.¡±


    35 shrugged, blushing a little, to the surprise of 36 ¡°Oh, don¡¯t think much of it. I just repeat what I hear.¡± He gestured towards the Reminder. ¡°What''s your take on this?¡±


    36 spoke with authority. ¡°They are unfathomable presents left for us by the Grand Council, long may they foresee that we are careening towards victory.¡±


    ¡°No¡± his face soured ¡°What do they mean to you specifically?¡±


    It did not feel right divulging a secret with someone she loathed, but she relented. ¡°This one makes me feel less alone.¡± She took off her glove, and showed him. Her hand was perfect, just like the other. ¡°I was born with one less finger than I should have, Lestat corrected it, so now you can¡¯t see, but I still feel connected to that version of me, even if the history of it is invisible.¡±


    ¡°I understand, I was born a woman.¡± Such transformations were not unheard of, but the casual way 35 said this was surprising. ¡°And my original name would mean nothing to any of you. It¡¯-¡°


    He said something that was like static. She didn¡¯t understand why she couldn¡¯t understand it.


    She patted the empty space besides her, asking him to sit. 35 did not move from his spot two steps below. ¡°Well, our names mean nothing to no one, Morgan is the only one who can know their true meaning.¡±


    He looked away his face darkening, ¡°Thats not true¡±. After a tense moment, he said ¡°I¡¯m going to leave soon, I have to wrap up some loose ends.¡±


    ¡°By all means¡± 36 said, waving him away.


    He simply stood there, the breeze choosing now to make itself known, ruffling his hair and his coat in a manner most intimidating.


    ¡°I have to wrap up some loose ends¡± he repeated.


    At that moment 36 knew what was about to happen. Reality around him was being played with. His Remark would soon come out, and so she beat him to the punch by taking out her own, her nails lengthening until each was long enough to skewer him straight through. And then she could finally-


    He was holding a thing in his hand she had no name for. It was like a counterpoint to the Reminders, made to make them all look pedestrian in comparison. It was not made of metal, but it wasn¡¯t flesh either. It was a weapon of some kind, but she only assumed that because what else could such a cruelty be used for? It was a black box of an object. Something in her brain was censoring it. Just like his name had. Visual dead air. He wanted to kill her with it, only that was clear.


    For some reason the memory of the last few minutes (actually, come to think of it, her entire life) was fuzzy. She didn¡¯t remember him turning to look at her, she didn¡¯t know his mouth could make a face like that.


    ¡°You could say this is a gift from the culture. But that wasn¡¯t that strange, just a rail gun disguised as an ordinary pistol. With all respect to the estate of Iain M Banks of course, still a great story. I relate to the protagonist.¡± He squinted. ¡°You have no frame of reference for what I¡¯m gonna kill you with. Outer context problem. That¡¯s it¡¯s name. Another Banks reference.¡± He grinned in a strange way that made his face looked like it was melting, it did not look pleasant. ¡°By the way, what¡¯s up with your fingers?¡±


    She noticed strange juts at the edge of her vision, she looked down at her nails, and screamed. They were spires being yanked in all sorts of directions. What had he done to them?


    His weapon bit down hard on her neck.


    As she bled out, she tried to understand what had just occurred. He used a weapon, one she couldn¡¯t understand. She looked to the Reminders. That made sense to her. They were a reminder of the Great Deluge, where her precursors fought valiantly with¡­ why couldn¡¯t she see them? Why were her memories of their instruments so strange and unknowable in the same way his was? How was such a thing possible, how could she be ignorant?


    And as her vision was fading, it came back to her.


    That¡¯s right¡­ they called them Remarks¡­ didn¡¯t they?


    ¡­


    The effects of his trick wore off a little too late. Montanna debated burying the body, then decided not to. It was a shitshow now, and part of the fun was that Morgan Lemure was denying it. Well, more like doing nothing. So why not add to the fun? Anything to speed up to that second phase, it would make it so much easier to get rid of the chaf.


    It annoyed him that those loose ends would take months to tie up. But by the end of it, he¡¯d be the boss of Gutworth, for however much the ruins were worth.

 Chapter 20: As Concerns The Conifers Part 3

    Tenth Passing


    Everyone knew what lay to the east of Gutworth. The important question was why anyone would bother.


    It was known as the Second Sea. A seemingly endless plain of gray dirt, purple sky, and floating white cubes, people who came from there could not say what was on the other side, as they have traveled long enough to have forgotten.


    The entrance to it was a small fissure in the wall, barely large enough to squeeze through. Once one got through that, they were introduced to the Second Sea, and the image they were graced with (dusty ground, purple sky, and an infinite number of cubes) would not change, no matter how many miles upon miles they traveled. Quetra had only been here for a week, and already she could feel her prior context slipping.


    She put a hand on the rough underside of one of the cubes. It had a faint energy to it, like all the others. There was a pulse like a heartbeat as her palm slid across it. She had never been this far out beyond the Drum. She turned back, expecting to see the massive outer wall of the Drum, but all she could see was a flat gray and purple plane of infinity.


    When she started running out of rations, she knew she was close.


    He had only packed enough food for two months, and so had she. Of course it was not an exact science, he was larger than her, and what he would eat in a day was considerably more than her, but this was around the time she started to see remains.


    The remains of wooden structures, leftovers from overnight camps. She even found what seemed to be a settlement, years old and stripped to the framework.


    On the eve of the sixty second day she found him. The sky was darkening, she would never have seen the dangling rope ladder if not for her light. It lead to a hole, and within that a surprisingly well lit interior.


    On the edge, about to pull herself up, she was greeted by a Remark straight to her face. A shovel, nothing more. Utilitarian, practical. In a certain light, terrifying.


    ¡±What are you doing here?¡± An ambivalent question. There was no indication he even recognized her.


    She pursed her lips, talking to his Remark instead of him. ¡°You haven¡¯t changed at all, Johann Remainder.¡±


    Johann, a mountain of a man, dressed in the same dockworker uniform he was infamous for. He had killed a Constant in that. Through now it was tattered, the frayed edges trailing off onto the dusty floor. His hood had two holes in it. Self made, roughly equivalent to eyes, but too high up to be used. His real eyes were obscured by shadows. He had grown a beard, he used to be clean shaven. The beard was nice on him.


    His grip on his Remark wavered. ¡°What are you doing here? We had a deal.¡±


    ¡±Things have changed. I thought we agreed-¡°


    She hoisted the top half of her body up, hard to do with one arm. She was about to throw her legs over, but was stopped again by his Remark cutting into her throat. It was enough force to draw blood.


    ¡°Johann.¡± She said, trying to be patient. ¡°Why do you think I showed up?¡±


    He said nothing.


    ¡±Do you really assume I¡¯m here to kill you? That our offer of peaceful exile was a bluff? And we would wait years before actually executing you?¡± She laughed. ¡°You think I would travel four months, forward and back, to kill a doddering hermit?¡±


    ¡°You said things have changed, so I don¡¯t know! Maybe!¡± He said, voice raised. She had forgotten how stubborn he could be. Absence made the heart forget the hate you hold.


    ¡®Alright. No need to shout, it¡¯s all for your benefit. Karol has left, and Yucian has died.¡± She had thought before to mention his sister, dead with all the rest, but at the moment she only wanted to feed him good news.


    A slight smile. He got a kick out of that. ¡°Someone finally did it. So you¡¯re recruiting new Constants, is that it?¡±


    ¡°The Constants are no more. We¡¯re making a new Legacy, dropping the reliance on the Lemure name, it will be one for the Wyrm¡± He would love that. ¡°one made up of locals with no rank.¡± He would love that as well. ¡°Karol¡¯s not part of this. Karol might as well be dead.¡±


    ¡±Okay.¡± He cocked his head, his high up eye holes made him look like an Aberration. ¡°who¡¯s the death squad you¡¯ll send if I don¡¯t agree?¡±


    ¡±Do you think we really have the people to spare for a death squad?¡± She said, her one arm trembling. ¡°Why the Grand do you think they sent me? We have no one to spare. Some weird girl with a Remark that wasn¡¯t even hers has killed half our ranks. Daaz is trying her best back at home but the city¡­ the city needs your help Johann. And, honestly, out of every person I know in the Legacy, including my fellow Constants, you¡¯re the only one I¡¯d trust to do a decent job.¡±


    He stared at her, his jaw did small circles as he processed this. She didn¡¯t know how much longer she could tolerate this stand off. This pose was becoming tiresome.


    And then


    The Remark was sheathed. In its place, he offered a hand.


    Eleventh Passing


    ¡°Did the guy giving us the watches seem weird to you?¡±


    Stumble shrugged, closing the lid. ¡°He seemed like a guy selling us sketchy merchandise.¡± She shoved a fistful of the watches into Collapse¡¯s hands, who shrugged as well and walked off with them. ¡°What exactly did you expect?¡±


    ¡°Not someone who knew we were from Gutworth.¡± Trip answered. ¡°I could have sworn I¡¯ve seen him before. It was strange. Those questions he was asking¡­ it felt like he was grilling us, trying to find out information.¡±


    She turned away from him, rubbing her hand on the large blue limbs of the aquatic fer as they passed underneath it. It was a shame they had already collected all of its nuts for the season; now it was just a pretty spectacle to float by. ¡°He was curious about Gutworth, the closest city to his tiny little island. We definitely didn¡¯t look like we were from Luminescia, where else would we be from?¡±


    ¡°How did he even know about Yucian¡¯s death? Didn¡¯t he look familiar?¡±


    She snorted. ¡°News travels fast. Especially when you¡¯re next to a port town, didn¡¯t you start blabbing to people about that?¡± She shooed him away ¡°Go downstairs and get some rest, I know the others are playing cards. That sounds fun.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°Sure, fun.¡± He shoved his elbow across Stumbles'' own and sulked down below deck. The sound of swords clashing and heavy grunting was clear in the green tinged atmosphere. A colony of skulkcrows emerged from the water and did their thing.


    For them the sky was the sea and the sea was the sky. And within a small cubic space of around 2 feet, the sky went along with this, now the sea. It manifested terrified and confused minnows scooped up from the corresponding space below them. There was a heavy thud below deck, spooking the skulkcrows. All at once they dived back in, creating cubic bubbles of air under the waves.


    ¡°They sure are going crazy in there.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s still new at this, and Hailien¡¯s a hard ass. I don¡¯t think they¡¯ve stopped for the last-¡° She realized at this point she did not recognize this voice, nor understand where it came from. She glanced down at the barrel of watches she was leaning against.


    ¡°In here,¡± The voice said, muffled. ¡°But don¡¯t let anyone see you.¡±


    Intruiged, she slowly lift the lid up, not checking if she was alone (she was).


    Inside were the watches, all of them in a dormant state, the smoke hissing from their nozzles furiously and LEDs glowing painfully. Suddenly, the watches shifted, disturbing the smoke was a piece of string that slithered out and floated high above the barrel.


    Stumble was delighted! The joy she felt reminded her of being a child, seeing the acrobat in the traveling circus. The magical way she had contorted her body into something impossible. A connected memory; When Stumble saw the acrobat again, years later, she was surprised to see the woman was still in that exact pose. It was as if she had never gotten out of it.


    ¡°Quick¡± the string said to her, wasting no time on introduction, ¡°Let¡¯s go watch the show.¡±


    In a daze, Stumble followed it to the grating where the shadowed figures of Hailien and Devon played. The two were in a neverending duel, only pausing when Devon was knocked to the ground, or so critically injured that Hailien froze midswing until Devon¡¯s remark glowed, and she flashed a smile that seemed to signal ¡°I¡¯m better now, keep it coming.¡±


    If they were placing bets on a winner, Stumble would have put her life savings on Hailien, and not cause she owed the woman her life. Her skill and proficiency as a fighter was as obvious as Devon¡¯s freshness. While there were minor things to be impressed by, the younger duelist could not hope to equal Hailien¡¯s skill or power.


    Strangely, there was a bright smile on Devon¡¯s face, as if she was content with this.


    ¡°How long have they been fighting?¡± The string said, having formed a circle. When it talked the circle moved up and down, imitating lips.


    ¡°This spar?¡± It seemed to have been going on for hours.


    Devon pounced on Hailien, her Remark raised over her head. Hailien raised a hand to block it, but didn¡¯t account for Devon predicting the move. She lodged the Remark in Hailien¡¯s wrist, and springboarded off of it.


    Devon ran on all fours to some place beyond what Stumble could see. Swearing, Hailien ran out of view after her, like a mom attending to a toddler on the loose.


    ¡°No, this circus. This whole show. It¡¯s entertaining¡­ I just don¡¯t see the point.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s weird. I guess Hailien feels like she owes her. We¡¯ve been dealing with this for¡­ four months now? She¡¯s teaching her how to fight.¡±


    The string whistled, somehow ¡°She sure is wasting alot of effort on teaching her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Stumble said. Reluctant to admit it but the string was right.


    The sound of metal on metal again, the battle continued somewhere beyond the grates view. ¡°But she¡¯s fresh and untested. Hailien¡¯s smart to train her as much as she has been.¡± Though it did make her wonder, weren¡¯t all five of them better fighters? Why not spend the time keeping them in fighting shape? Instead all they¡¯d been doing since was odd jobs at small outposts and lying low.


    ¡°Now, I¡¯m just a string, so please don¡¯t take this seriously. I¡¯m not an expert in anything but being me, though I can¡¯t help but wonder, if she¡¯s spending all this attention on this kid, well, where does that leave you and your crew?¡±


    Funny, it was like it read her mind. Stumble breathed in deeply and exhaled like it was her last breath. She walked over to the railing. The sight of the moons-lit sea far more tolerable than some dark depressing grate. ¡°A glorified pedicab service, really. You know, when we mutinied with her, we thought it would involve, you know, doing stuff with her. But we never see her, she never leaves. They eat together, train together, sleep together.¡±


    ¡°They sleep together?¡±


    Stumble blushed. ¡°Well, no, not like that, but she doesn¡¯t leave, she hasn¡¯t once. I don¡¯t understand it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe she needs a distraction, something that will take her mind off that girl.¡± The string said idly. ¡°I¡­ may know a way to help.¡±


    Her ears pricked up. Turning to the floating piece of string, it suddenly became clear how very odd this conversation was. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    The string rubbed its two halves together before contorting into a lopsided grin. ¡°A Remark¡¯s Trick, some sort of bizarre new Contender, a remarkably unique occurence of spontaneous ventriloquism, what does it matter? All you need to know is that Lemure¡¯s Legacy knows where you are.¡±


    ¡°Crawl shit!¡± She readied her Remark, this was as good as a threat. Especially the way the strings voice had gone dark at the end. For it¡¯s part, the string was unfazed, one might even say unimpressed.


    ¡°What could you do to me? I¡¯m a talking piece of string.¡±


    She kept her weapon ready, but it had a point. ¡°You can¡¯t just say things like that and not expect a girl to react!¡± She said, a bit embarrassed. ¡°I¡¯m on edge cause we¡¯re being hunted. Lemure wants us dead for killing a Constant.¡± As soon as the words were out she regretted it. Maybe, somehow, it didn¡¯t know that. Well, now it did.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand.¡± The string said, luxuriating in its answer. ¡°I don¡¯t care, and will pretend that I didn¡¯t hear that last part. Morgan Lemure¡­ he¡¯s only interested in one culprit.¡± And as if on cue, Devon rolled back into view.


    She was on the backfoot, being driven across the room by Hailien¡¯s confident swings. Devon for her part had cockiness on her side, and dodged each swing with a laugh and a wink.


    It was all so unfair.


    Stumble had never sparred with Hailien. She had never asked her to. And here Hailien was, here Hailien had been, treating this girl like her fucking successor.


    While Stumble, the girl she saved, the girl she gave a future to, had more raw talent and skill in a single hand than Devon had in her whole body. What sense did that make?


    The string whistled past her, stopping at her right ear and whispered. ¡°Lemure will come for her, that is certain, but you can still survive. And also your friends, if that matters. There is a hitch on the boat that allows other smaller ships to be attached. You know where it is I think. Put that hitch on the stern. Understand what that means for your skin?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Y-yes, I¡¯ll have to talk to the others, but I think-¡°


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother hedging. And don¡¯t share a word. The asset we are using needs training, so if you need to think, by Grand, think. It will be a few weeks, maybe a month. Just attach the hitch. That''s all you need to do.¡±


    ¡°But how will I know-¡° The string was gone. She was alone, had been alone. It was like no one else had ever been there. She left, feeling confused and half convinced it was all a dream.


    And then in the watch barrel


    A finger at the bottom of it. Pointer finger, severed within the day. A freshly cut finger that Stumble had not seen twitched slightly as the string wrapped itself around the finger, and waited.

 Chapter 21: As Concerns The Conifers Part 4

    Twelfth Passing


    Morgan Lemure was alone in his carriage. He had not been himself for weeks. There was no one left to take care of him. He had been given a tube by the wide shouty one and left for dead. Once between sleeps someone wearing a mask of The Wyrm would appear to check on him, and switch his tube out as needed. It felt like an execution delivered piecemeal. Every time he woke there was a new hole in his brain.


    Sucking on a tube of meat, he muttered to himself about the invaders, the endless Deluge. Within the food matter he sucked down his gullet, he saw the faces of the people he betrayed. It did him great pleasures to guzzle them up.


    Momentarily distracted by the constant buzzing that lingered in his brain, he did not hear the door open. A man came into view. Dark skin, unknown skin. Messy hair, stranger¡¯s hair.


    His clothes were in a bizarre style, purple and coiffed, far too noble for his taste. Morgan preferred harsh armor and laughing death masks. And what was that the man wore over his eyes, a silk bandanna of the same color? The man turned to Morgan and smiled wide.


    ¡°What a shame, looks like Quertra forgot to put anyone on guard duty.¡± He wiped a bloody hand on his trousers, then folded his arms and inspected the room. ¡°It¡¯s understandable. Half of the Constants gone, one dead. In the chaos anyone would forget about the senile old master.¡±


    Quertra¡­ his nurse. His monster. The one who gave him the needles that made him fall deep within himself, made the Wyrm take over. He could feel it even now, poking holes in his brain, making it impossible to talk other than to moan or scream. Yet he had to speak, he had to ask.


    ¡°What has my empire become?¡± Each word was harder to get out than the last, but he managed. The Wyrm drove a spike through the brain for his troubles.


    The man gestured fondly at the fleshy list before them. It would have fared better as a posting of obituaries. So many numbers were dead or unaccounted for, none of the names or faces he recognized. The Wyrm had been eating his people. He spit and spat, trying his hardest to express his ire.


    ¡°Simmer down a bit, King Berenger the First, don¡¯t shoot the messenger. Lets ignore the leaderboard for now, how about we look at who¡¯s waiting in the wings,¡± He fiddled with a module on the side, and the board changed to show a new, healthier list of 200 or so names, all alive. This excited Morgan greatly, and he rocked back and forth with glee. He realized now this was his 41, less androgynous, less disapproving. Either a transformation has taken place or the old one had been overthrown. He didn¡¯t care which.


    ¡°Makes you excited for the future, huh? Like Campbell passing the torch to Moorcock. I¡¯m simplifying of course, Moorcock did his thing with the Brits while Campbell sputtered and went senile, the only thing they exchanged was hate mail. Ol¡¯ John kept promoting a dead scene right up until he was buried.¡± His 41 was speaking in riddles but such was expected of a 41, all The Wyrms nonsense was filtered down to him so that Morgan could speak pure reason. A noble role.


    41 leaned the carriage towards himself, despite the blindfold it was like he could see Morgan clearly. ¡°Here¡¯s the issue though. I see the way you eye me. I¡¯m not 41, not yet, and I need your permission to promote these people. I¡¯m happy to play the Ellison to your Merril, but England Swings 2 is in need of some submissions. And to do that¡­ I need to be 41.¡±


    It made perfect sense to him. This was his 41, a new one, nothing like that old one. He rose to make it official, but the words turned to razors in his throat. He doubled over in pain. The comforting hand of 41 was there to soothe him. He lowered a hand to pat his back, but the cape had other ideas, and bit back.


    ¡°I see what the issue is.¡± 41 took out two syringes. One white and milky, a familiar and uncomfortable sight, and the other black and porous, new and inviting. ¡°The New Wave met a lot of resistance. People wanted to dilute it, or destroy it entirely.¡±


    He threw the white one away. That was a good lieutenant.


    ¡°All in vain, ideas are like parasites, they can lay dormant for years, changing and morphing, learning how to synthesize the median, but never losing their potency.¡± He lowered the black syringe to Lemure¡¯s neck, pockmarked with sores and needle marks. ¡°This will get rid of that nasty thing controlling your cloak, but only temporarily, I¡¯ll need your permission to-¡°


    Lemure grabbed the needle and forced it into his neck. Enthusiastic consent.


    His pupils dilated, his strength returned, his cloak shivered and went limp. It made him angry how easy it was to dull The Wyrm. For the first time in years, he spoke without strain.


    ¡°Thank you, 41. I will now make it official that you are the new-¡° He stopped, not because he was hesitant, but because his voice did not sound at all like he expected.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± 41 asked, right to be impatient.


    His voice¡­ sounded weak. How much had The Wyrm taken from him? His eyes were wet.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to speak,¡± He took out a device Morgan didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°Just put your hand in here.¡±


    Morgan did, ignoring how his fingers bled.


    ¡­


    All over Gutworth, people heard a voice. Speakers that hadn¡¯t been used in months were suddenly screaming.


    ¡°Citizens of Gutworth, this is your new 41. Two hundred of you are reserve members of Lemures Legacy. They¡¯re the ones this message is for.¡±


    Norman Certain was running some errands and arguing on his watch about what exactly constituted a ¡°batch¡± of dream dust. His neck went weird, something long dormant was now a second heart beat. He looked up.


    The rest of you can continue eating rocks or whatever you do with your time. But for you reserve members, I know how you work. You spend every waking moment wishing for a chance to be called up to the big leagues. Well, that is about to change.


    A statuesque woman in a mask of her own make stared up at the speaker and laughed uproariously. History was rewarding her with interesting times.


    As of this moment, you are unmarked but approved members of the Legacy. A place in the Legacy, but with no number. And to people who are already members?


    A Legacy member wearing his uniform felt his neck go limp. The number in the late 20s dissapeared and became black sludge pressed up against his skin.


    You will find that you are also unmarked. Sorry, we want things to be fair here. None of you are approved, you¡¯re all equal in the eyes of your one true god, Lemure. How to become approved? Simple. Kill the other unmarked, see the way their smart veins bulge uselessly and use that as your target.


    A crowd surrounded the now numberless Legacy member. He tried to take out his Remark but someone bit him in the wrist. Two more jumped him and he fell into a trough, what was left of him would be used as crawlcow feed.


    Kill your friends, they won¡¯t expect it. Do not delay, kill before you yourself are killed! This will continue indefinitely. Thank you¡±


    Death was sated that night. Some even said they saw her, dancing among the ruins. Her silhouette contorted from the bonfire of bodies. As large as the sun, thrice as hot.


    Thirteenth Passing


    ¡°What¡¯s your plan here, exactly?¡± Hailien asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting my reps in of course!¡± Devon said cheerfully, her now scarred hands slowly but surely lifting Hailien¡¯s massive blade up, only to let it fall back down until it teetered on being deadly, right above her neck. Then, small biceps bulging, she repeated the process, finding it uniquely satisfying to find a hold on the razor thin glass that she could work with.


    ¡°You never fail to amuse me.¡± Hailien said, sporting an expression that you would be mad to categorize as a smile.


    ¡°What about you?¡± Devon said smugly. Her back was to the ground, only her hands stopping the blade from cleaving straight through her. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Staying alive.¡± Hailien said, in that flat affect that always heralded excessive violence. Sure enough, she lifted her sword from Devon¡¯s palms, leaving her hands outstretched. She cut through them, and Devon screamed. She would never get used to the feeling of dying.


    Then that snap, both comforting and annoying. She was still on the ground, hands back in place, no fresh injuries. Hailien was back in place in front of the stairs as well.


    With an annoyed groan Devon got up and flashed a two minute sign at Hailien, wandering over to the small stool that passed as a break room.


    ¡°We need to start preparing for that.¡± Adam said in her brain. He slipped out of her hand and floated in front of her. He had the habit of doing that whenever he wanted to talk, it made it easier. ¡°you¡¯re putting yourself in positions that make it easy for her to use her trick.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°I may be testing something.¡± Devon said, only a half lie. She wiped the sweat off her brow. The damage was reversed, the exertion wasn¡¯t.


    Beneath all the scratches Adam¡¯s glass body reflected enough to serve as a mirror, Taut, wiry, with very little fat that helped show off her abs, though there wasn¡¯t much fat on her body to begin with. Consistently being on the verge of starvation would do that to you. For some reason, it felt like this build fit her face better.


    ¡±I sense that you¡¯re experimenting, but the reasoning is lost. Please elaborate.¡±


    Feeling confident that Hailien wasn¡¯t listening or wouldn¡¯t care, she filled him in, ¡°So, when she snaps her finger, I stay in the same place, while she always teleports back to where she was, right?¡±


    Adam did his best approximation of a nod, tilting the front of his body down and then up like a ship going through choppy waters.


    It took her an embarrassingly long time to realize that was his response. ¡°Um, so anyway¡± she continued, ¡°I think thats how we get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Interesting plan, if I¡¯m understanding it correctly. I guess this means you¡¯ll finally let me control your body again.¡±


    She sighed, here we go. ¡°Nope! I¡¯m not ready for that yet.¡±


    ¡°You have not used me outside of healing and recovery afterwards, if you had, we would not be here now, we would be halfway past Luminescia.¡± Adam had grown impatient recently, it was like her own urgency had been a rapidly depleting faucet that had to go somewhere. Sometimes he could be almost childish, it was charming, and she liked him more as an equal than a mentor.


    ¡°I know, and I wouldn¡¯t as fucking cool as I am now without your help.¡± She put her legs up on nothing and leaned back, Adam dutifully positioning himself on the back of the stool to prevent her from falling over. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ important to me that I do this as by myself as possible. Obviously I need you to help me heal and¡­ just in general as a friend, but this is my body, my arms and legs, least I can do is operate them myself, and feel proud that their strength is my strength. You know, like the Yucian fight but, even more so.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine by me.¡± Adam said, sounding surprisingly enthusiastic. ¡°I think I¡¯m still getting used to our much more peaceful existence here. This is as long as I¡¯ve gone without seriously fighting someone for as long as I can remember.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s not that peaceful!¡± Devon objected, ¡°I still get decapitated like, once a day!¡±


    ¡°True, but in a controlled environment. You¡¯ll never actually get hurt here.¡± He made the mental equivalent of a frown in her brain. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, while I enjoy the peace, it doesn¡¯t seem right. Something about imitating violence without the consequences, it¡¯s ghoulish.¡±


    Devon shrugged, while she didn¡¯t exactly like being chopped up, it seemed a bit much to moralize about it. ¡°It¡¯s training!¡±


    ¡°Are you ready yet?¡± Hailien asked, taking guard ten feet from the staircase. ¡°I¡¯d like to wrap up for the day soon, but I think you deserve at least one more good spar.¡±


    Devon got to her feet. ¡°This is gonna be the one.¡± She said confidently.


    ¡°It is absolutely not going to be the one. As your friend and companion, I advise you to stop saying that.¡±


    ¡°I say it only when I¡¯m confident that this is gonna be the one, and it is.¡± This was the 75th time she had declared that this fight was going to be the one.


    ¡°Okay, but you know that, even if your plan goes off without a hitch, there¡¯s no guarantee she won¡¯t just pull something else out, and then we¡¯re back to square one.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware but I highly doubt that.¡± She said in a smug tone, knowing it annoyed Hailien to be privy to a one sided conversation. ¡°We¡¯ve exhausted her resources, she¡¯s as tired as we are. This will be the one, look, she¡¯s particularly begging for us to end this. We¡¯ve wasted more than a quarter of a year to this shit, do you really think she¡¯s gonna be angry if we actually win this time?¡±


    As expected, she had tried Hailien¡¯s patience and the large woman ran at her with her Remark held high. Hailien was a stronger fighter, but also quite predictable.


    They engaged in a bout of dodging and slash as slash can. Quite mundane for both of them. They could do this for hours, even days.


    ¡°Hey, did you forget something?¡± Devon said, pointing at Hailien¡¯s fingers, yet to snap. And then she drove Adam in for a risky slash at her chest.


    Hailien swore, snapped her finger, and retaliated with a plunge of her Remark that could have been fatal


    If Devon hadn¡¯t expected it. She dodgerolled out of the way, barely feeling winded.


    The hatch up to the surface was wide open and unguarded, and she ran like her life depended on it. Meanwhile, Adam slipped away from Devon¡¯s hand lazily, like a float rat without direction. It was like he had suddenly decided he didn¡¯t much care for the fight. Whether or not this had distracted Hailien well enough to slow her down Devon didn¡¯t know. Anything behind was a mystery, all she cared about was getting to that staircase.


    WHAM. In a now familiar move, Hailien threw her sword at the staircase, shattering the railing, making it fall to one side. Partially collapsed, but still usable.


    ¡°Oooh, you¡¯re paying for that.¡± Devon said cheekily to Hailien, who was now right next to her, leering down. Hailien gripped Devon and shoved her to the broken staircase, pierced by a bit of the railing in her midsection. It hurt like hell, but wasn¡¯t lethal, and wasn¡¯t trying to be. She thought she knew why, and was banking on the assumption.


    She jumped on the stairs and positioned herself above Devon, Remark out, readying herself to push the girl back up with the other hand. The giant sword of a Remark dangled casually above her.


    ¡°Now!¡± Devon shouted. Hailien lazily turned to Adam, at the other side of the room. He was simply floating, not trying to interfere or attack. A perfect distraction for Devon, who gripped the harsh metal of Hailien¡¯s remark, screaming as she pushed herself up from the railing, and pulled the already close sword straight into her chest. It hurt like hell, it always did, but for the first time, it was a hurt Devon had wanted. She knew that she had already won.


    ¡°Shit, shit!¡± Hailien yelled, the way her eyes went large made it clear that this was fucking bad. Devon only had minutes to live, maybe seconds. Hailien snapped her fingers.


    And a fully healed Devon was alone on the now fixed staircase, feeling better than she had ever felt.


    Adam snapped dutily to her hand. ¡°Alright.¡± he admitted, ¡°This is the one.¡±


    Hearing the booming sound of Hailien¡¯s footsteps, Devon wasted no time in running up the stairs, opening the hatch, and-


    For the first time in four months, she saw the sky. While a scarce commodity in Gutworth, they were lucky enough to be next to the aquatic conifer tree, it¡¯s immense size to the large hole of sky that was directly above it.


    Blurred and lightened by the distance, Devon could still make out the scarlet light of dawn. The way the sunbeams probed the sea with shining clarity was beautiful. She closed her eyes and felt a heat that was often so absent before today she thought it was a myth.


    When she opened her eyes the sailor with the red glasses was in front of her, looking gobsmacked. ¡°By the Grand, she did it. She fucking did it.¡± He turned, cupping his hands to his mouth ¡°Hey assholes, she¡¯s out!¡±


    The others soon joined him, stopping what they were doing (nothing of much importance) to huddle around her. They had not seen her since their first meeting, and conversation quickly shifted to how much muscle she had put on.


    ¡°My god, it looked like she ate the Captain.¡± The one with the blond pigtails said, checking the hatch. Hailien¡¯s head poked out, struggling to get her much larger frame out of the small opening.


    ¡°Why are you guys so surprised?¡± Devon said with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s only been a few days.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± The large one she had beaten in the fight before took the bait. ¡°It¡¯s been like¡­ 4 months?¡±


    Devon overdid her faux surprise, gaping her mouth open in shock. ¡°No. It can¡¯t be¡­¡± This prank was something she had been preparing for weeks and through mental repetition it had become considerably heightened. ¡°I left my poor crywolf Triskele all alone, with nary a bowl of food or any water. She must be starving!¡±


    ¡°Oh no, did you leave the door open at least? They can be resourceful animals.¡± The one with the neck covered said, seeming to believe her.


    ¡°No, I keep it locked. But¡­ there is a window she could have broken through¡­¡± She gasped, bringing her hand up to her head like she was about to faint. ¡°But there¡¯s so many pits in my backyard! It¡¯s awful! Why, she¡¯s never experienced a pit filled environment before, she would fall in almost immediately, no one¡¯s taught her the dangers of chasms!!!¡±


    ¡°Oh no.¡± Pigtails said, eyes going wide. ¡°Oh no, oh no!¡±


    The large one was panicking, totally believing this. ¡°We gotta turn this ship around and feed her wolf!!!¡±


    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s fine¡± Devon said, suddenly bored with the bit. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s found a pack of other strays, I¡¯m sure I¡¯m not the only neglectful pet owner. Yucian¡¯s dead, so she can¡¯t make a coat out of my poor little Triskele either way. You know, there¡¯s actually-¡°


    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± They all turned to Hailien, staring and pointing at something beyond Devon and the crowd of sailors.


    She was pointing at a woman leaning on the railing of the ship, keeping herself to the periphery of this scene. She was dressed similar to the other sailors, but Devon had never seen her before. Greasy black hair, tall nimble build, a bit of muscle, and a smile that suggested secrets. Something about her reminded Devon of herself.


    ¡±Stumble, you know the orders in regards to passengers.¡±


    ¡°Apologies captain, she came to us in the night about a, uh, month ago, we couldn¡¯t say no.¡± Stumble said, ¡°She¡¯s another refugee, like Devon. Things have gotten bad in Gutworth, and she¡¯s been helping us out for a while now. We meant to tell you but-¡°


    ¡°Please, let me speak for myself Stumble, I do owe her an explanation.¡± The woman said, pushing Stumble aside in a manner strangely gentle. She seemed to have a pull among the crew, they all gave her space, none of them objecting to the way she had commandeered the conversation.


    Instead of addressing Hailien, she turned to Devon, as if she was the only one that mattered. ¡°Hello there Devon Near, happy to make your acquaintance. My name is Tremble Neverworthy. I used to know Adam, the one whose remark you hold.¡± She did a curtsy, followed by a giant step forward straight into Devon¡¯s personal space.


    ¡±Gah!¡± Devon said, involuntarily. Tremble touched Devon¡¯s hand, Adam hot in her grip. She hummed to herself, weirdly pleased to be so close to him (to them?) ¡°We were very close friends, me and him. Inseparable even.¡±


    In her head, Adam used a phrase she had never heard him use before. ¡°Crawl Shit.¡±

 Chapter 22: I am Normal and Can be Trusted with Weapons

    They were approaching the Helot, though approaching was subjective, as they were still a good ten miles from it, even with it in view.


    The SS Eggshell would not get there for another day, but they were close enough to see it.


    And my, it was a sight.


    The Helot, as it was known then, was a giant almost mile tall structure in the shape of a beautiful woman. She was staring up to the sky, gripping in her hand another hand that ended in a disembodied arm.


    Devon whistled. ¡°I¡¯ve never been this close to her before!¡± She leaned closer, the top half of her jutting off the railing.


    Tremble got closer to her, breath smelling of corpse flowers. ¡°I have, I¡¯ve been inside even.¡±


    Devon turned around as Tremble put her hands behind her torso, eyes going wide. Adam was giving her nothing but negative vibes. The goofiness of this reaction outweighed her suspicion.


    ¡°Well then tell me, little miss traveled the world, what¡¯s it like? I thought there were abberations there, the type that will eat you for breakfast?¡± She mimed chomping on a Tremble sandwich.


    Tremble didn¡¯t miss a beat, arching her back and finding a way to make her pose seem dignified. ¡°That was the assumption, yes, but they¡¯re harmless. They¡¯re quite fun to play around with, in a playful sort of fashion. They don¡¯t fight back, they¡¯re little automatons who do their tasks no matter what. We call them Placebos.¡± A nonsense word to both of them.


    Devon scratched at her head, enjoying the sun¡¯s warmth. ¡°Huh, that¡¯s interesting, never heard of a peaceful abberation. Then again-¡° She stopped talking, nose twitching.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Tremble said, concerned.


    ¡±Devon, Tremble had her hands out, she was going to push you overboard.¡±


    ¡°Tch. A moment ago, I got the oddest feeling that you were¡­ trying to push me in?¡±


    Tremble stared at her and said nothing, until finally-


    ¡°Okay yeah I was.¡± She acted as if she was admitting to stealing a piece of food, not attempted murder. ¡°I may have been hired by the Constants to kill you, and maybe I was about to go through with it.¡±


    Devon could feel Adam in her mind, practically begging her to kill this woman.


    ¡°She has led me into death before. I wanted to assume the best, but now it¡¯s clear, this woman wants to kill you. We need to do something.¡±


    Strangely, she never felt safer. Straight up, this girl was pathetic. From the way she wouldn¡¯t meet her eyes, to the way her lip quivered. If this was the best assassin Lemure could spare, then she had nothing to fear.


    Tremble sighed deeply, bringing her arms forward like she expected to be cuffed. ¡°But you caught me, so here¡¯s what I propose- a duel. And since I was the one who proposed it, you can choose the time and place.¡± She nodded, as if to convince herself.


    ¡°That sounds good.¡± Devon said.


    ¡±It does not. She has given us no reason to think she¡¯ll play fair.¡±


    In Tremble¡¯s flinching expression was something familiar. Devon put a hand to her chin, trying to place it. She shifted around, going through memories. Adam was no help, taking up space in her brain and yelling to kill her, kill her, over and over again. Maybe being cooped up had made him stir crazy. Having a potentially insane passenger in your head could be a liability, something to think about (¡°Correction, I¡¯m not insane, I¡¯m being practical¡±)


    It was a small town, it didn¡¯t surprise her that she knew Tremble, but the specifics still surprised her.


    ¡°Neverworthy¡­ I recognize the name, I lived right next door to you.¡± For a period they were even close. ¡°You always used to try and scare me by leaving those odd notes.¡± She considered this. ¡°Though I suppose they could have been love letters, huh?¡±


    ¡°Shut up and die! But yes, that was me.¡± Tremble said, crossing her arms and putting her nose up as she turned her head away. It was cute, Devon had to admit. This was a cute person, despite the attempt to kill her. ¡°And don¡¯t ask me what I meant because I barely remember.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, we were kids!¡± She was a different person, Devon thought. It was so long ago.


    ¡°Yes, idiot kids.¡± Tremble said, barring sharp black teeth.


    ¡±I mean, just kids.¡±


    ¡±Idiot kids. No understanding that the water below is shallow, yes, but that¡¯s because the bottom is a corpse layer.¡± A black liquid dribbled lightly out of Tremble¡¯s tear ducts, her cold sandpaper skin seemed to shift slightly, the texture of her face no longer fixed. ¡°A universe worth of sisters, wearing rags that wave in the current like algae, coral reefs of blisters and calcified pus, you need to carve them open and cut cut cut cut to the Visionary, the endless ocean. Now that¡¯s not shallow. There¡¯s no one there. No sisters, never sisters, the sisters who kept laughing even as they bled out into-¡±


    Coughing suddenly, her strange rant came to an end. Trembles hands lashed out at her crying face and clenched down so hard Devon expected the flesh to tear off. Tremble screamed. And while the sound was muffled the sheer misery and panic of it was, if anything, heightened. The air around her rippled, like she was summoning a Remark, but nothing solidified. For a second it was like the world was melting.


    And then it wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°You were terrible at catching fish.¡± Tremble said, as if her sudden outburst had never occurred.


    It was difficult to come up with a response. Devon wished she had a witness outside of Adam. That was¡­ it felt like the world reacted to her breakdown.


    ¡±Alright¡­ so, will I have to duel you now or can I expect you to be, uh, chill?¡±


    Tremble smirked, wiping away black tears. ¡°I think you¡¯ll come to find I am the definition of chill.¡± And then suddenly she ran off, going downstairs and slamming the door.


    ¡±I don¡¯t remember her being like that.¡±


    ¡°I think she¡¯s got the hots for me.¡± Devon said, feeling much lighter now that Tremble was gone. She could almost pretend their funny little conversation didn¡¯t start with an attempted assasination and end with said attempted assassin crying black blood.


    ¡°I would not have come to that conclusion¡± Adam said plainly. ¡°She tried to murder you.¡±


    ¡°Aha!¡± Devon said confidently, leaning back on the railing. ¡°But she didn¡¯t. And then she ran away.¡± After having a full on mental breakdown.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we really got to know each other until now.¡± Adam said.


    ¡±Tremble?¡±


    ¡±No¡­ me and you.¡±


    ¡°Mmm.¡± Devon said, noncommittally. Above her Collapse did the work of five people, adjusting the rigging and compensating for their distance to Helot. ¡°What makes you say that? You¡¯ve been in my head for 4 months now, and I¡¯ve felt you rummaging around there. Grand, you were probably the one who made the Tremble connection. You know me quite well.¡±


    ¡°Devon, your experiences before this have been severely limited. This is all completely new to you.¡±


    She conceded the point with a shrug. ¡°There¡¯s not a lot of options for a girl with a shit Remark.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a judgment, it¡¯s a statement.¡±


    Devon bristled, holding onto a nearby rope like she was going to tear it and the rigging down with it. ¡®Okay, so I¡¯m a new person. Or how about this, I was barely a person.¡±


    ¡°Okay. So if we pretend you didn¡¯t exist until 4 months ago, here¡¯s your life so far; you were almost killed by a man, you killed him, you threw up, you killed another man, then another, killed a Constant, which I guess view themselves greater than men, got into a fight, almost killed another man, then the next four months were spent training through a never ending fight where you experienced your own death multiple times, a fight that only ended a good 30 minutes ago.¡±


    ¡°That about covers it.¡± Devon said, sounding nostalgic. ¡°Interesting to start my life right before I bonded with you.¡± She propped herself up on the railing, then thought better of it, lowered her back, and lifted herself up by her arms, her legs raised in an impromptu hold that burned her stomach. ¡°I¡¯d say I didn¡¯t become me till about a month into the whole never ending fight thingy.¡±


    ¡±How can you be so calm? Even as we speak Tremble is plotting-¡°


    ¡°Tremble¡¯s an idiot with real issues. If she tries anything we have six other people who can and will deal with her¡± Her face scrunched up, realizing something unspoken. ¡°Not happy that Morgan could find us though. We should leave as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°I have learned to repay violence with violence, and I don¡¯t think that¡¯s that hard of a rule to follow. That woman admitted to trying to murder you, why let her live?¡±


    ¡°It was so long ago, I was barely alive then, but you introduced yourself as a pacifist.¡± Devon¡¯s arms were shaking now, but she committed to holding the pose for at least 30 seconds more.


    ¡°I would be a fool and broken beyond repair if I ever thought of myself as such.¡± Adam said gravely. ¡°I am your passenger, and my rent, if you will, is primarily me keeping you alive. That includes violence. I think so far, I have been a very respectable tenant.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t demand rent is the thing.'''' With a sigh, Devon found her strength failing, and finally lowered herself. The pain, as always, was its own reward. She remembered a time when she and Tremble had played during the triumph of the wyrm parade. Tremble had found a squishsnake and chased Devon halfway through Gutworth with it. Devon couldn¡¯t stop laughing, because Tremble was trying so hard to be scary while carrying around a limp snake and calling it a wyrm. ¡°For all you know, we could become good friends again.¡±


    ¡°And what if you become good friends!¡± Adam yelled in her mind, causing her to wince. ¡°What if you become inseparable, extremely good friends, willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, until you stop doubting that you were ever in any danger at all, and do you know what a self admitted assassin will do when they know you trust them? THEY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT. SHE¡¯S A FUCKING ASSASSIN AND SHE ADMITTED SO HERSELF.¡±


    Devon didn¡¯t know it was possible for him to yell like that. With his words still echoing in her brain, she tried her best to respond good naturedly. ¡°Alright¡± She said ¡°I¡¯ll just tell the crew about it and keep her locked up. Hailien doesn¡¯t trust her, so it shouldn¡¯t be that hard.¡±


    ¡°What was that?¡± Hailien said, who had been walking by with a barrel over one arm.


    ¡°Oh, so Tremble, the new girl? She told me she¡¯s trying to murder me!¡± Devon said cheerfully.


    ¡°Of course she did.¡± Hailien muttered under her breath, stomping down to the cabins below.


    ¡°There we go.¡± Devon said, confident the problem had been solved. ¡°No reason to get so angry.¡±


    ¡°On some level I can¡¯t help it.¡± Adam said. ¡°You have a lot of rage in here, I¡¯ve been soaking up your hate ambiently. I¡¯m happy to do it for you, but Devon¡­ your head is filled with anger.¡±


    That didn¡¯t sound like the Devon she knew. Sure her life did suck, emphasis on did, and she still thought of Tread, 29, and 31 not as corpses, but as villains who never got what they deserved, and they still appeared in her dreams, alive and mocking. But she assumed this was quite normal, what mattered was she was happy now. She was happy because she was gonna murder the other Constants. And nothing would stop her. How was that anger? She felt grand damn peachy.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to be able to see the sun again. You thought that yourself earlier, remember?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Devon said, ¡°That too, that too.¡±


    .


    .


    .


    Picture, if you will, a secret hole in your neck, one that even you aren¡¯t aware of, but it is used frequently by the microorganisms and colonizers that call your body home.


    That is where Tremble was in the SS Eggshell. A cozy little air pocket in the cartilage she had had to dig to make, hidden away beneath the bow, with an entrance in a small crack within her quarters. Only she wasn¡¯t Tremble now, she was Wyrm-touched, that''s what Morgan had called her.


    In this form she felt like hardened muscle tied together by rebar and barbed wire, a human with all the power of a Remark, a Remark with a human¡¯s cunning. All in a black matte coating that reflected no light.


    She was currently in this form for the sole purpose of crying. Today had been tough.


    A small string slithered its way into the room, mimicking the motion of a snake for absolutely no one''s benefit. After bumping up on the back of Tremble, it transformed itself into the recognizable form of a pair of lips.


    ¡°Tremble,¡± The string said. ¡°Do we have a problem?¡±


    Tremble did not answer in any coherent way, simply ducked its ichor black head farther between its legs. Its telephone pole-like spines shifted in an irregular rhythm, like they were being blown by competing gusts of wind.


    The string floated down until it was level with the monster¡¯s squirming neck.


    ¡°Tremble,¡± It said in a darker tone. ¡°I sensed Devon on board. You haven¡¯t killed her yet.¡±


    ¡°I tried,¡± Tremble said, muffled by her position. ¡°But then she made me tell the truth.¡±


    For a moment, there was no sound outside of the constant chattering from the birds above them.


    ¡°What do you mean by that Tremble? Did your contrarian¡¯s needle make you-¡°


    ¡°I told her I was there to kill her, okay!¡± Tremble cried out, rolling out of her moping position and into a battle stance. Angrily she clawed at the string, but it simply moved away to avoid the attacks. ¡°I fucked up and disgraced Morgan and Death herself. All because I was blinded by familial recognition, a connection to my past I could not ignore. I¡¯m a failure of a killer, I¡¯m a failure of an Idea, I should be studied as an object lesson in pure incompetence.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, Tremble.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a fucking¡­ I¡¯m a fucking dumbass.¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ yeah.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t deserve this power.¡± She said, looking at her claws, which could have killed Devon a thousand times over. ¡°Morgan made a mistakeeeee¡± The last word turned into a incoherent wail. ¡°I¡¯m a failure, a failure!¡±


    In a flash the string struck her. On her sleek pure black body, there was a trickle of contortuos blood. A color that did not exist in this world till Tremble had bled it. She bled Visionary. The string did not have eyes to see, so did not notice this.


    ¡°I should make it clear that hit wasn¡¯t from me, it was from one of the other Constants. Delivered on their behalf.¡±


    Tremble gulped, uncomfortable with the thought that multiple Constants were hearing her as she self-destructed.


    ¡°Who¡­ who else is there with you?¡± She asked softly.


    ¡°Well outside of me and Jeavel, Karol is here.¡± The string said, ¡°We have 30, his charming assistant, and¡­ basically every number who hasn¡¯t been already killed when that Ressy battle royale started. And we¡¯re all waiting *here*, on the Helot. Do you understand what that means?¡±


    Tremble didn¡¯t. Her mission had been to kill everyone on board and retrieve the Remark of Adam, but then she had befriended the crew, becoming an honorary member even, so then the plan had shifted to just killing Devon, but she *liked* Devon too. And now it felt certain that she would be tried and killed when they got to the Helot. Stupid Tremble, her name meant to quiver, she hated that the Wyrm revealed that to her.


    When Tremble didn¡¯t answer, the string did for her. ¡°It means that if you don¡¯t kill her, you have still succeeded in bringing her to a location where we all are. 3 Constants, about a dozen numbers, all interested and willing to kill her.¡±


    Tremble nodded, but she wasn¡¯t really listening. ¡°I¡¯ll bring her to Helot.¡±


    ¡°Yes you will.¡± The string said. ¡°And then you won¡¯t be such a loser anymore.¡±


    The string began to unravel. And as it did it said, barely discernible ¡°Well, maybe a little bit.¡± Before sliding back up the passage, back to slumber in counterfeit watches.


    Left alone, Tremble knew she should feel better, she hadn¡¯t messed up yet, not really. But she wasn¡¯t successful in expressing this to her brain.


    She looked at her hands, comforting herself with their monstrousness. Despite not being worthy, she still could be. She had to kill Devon, the only way to prove that she deserved this skin. This was somewhat inconvenienced by the fact that she had just agreed to bring her in alive, but such contradictions could be untangled by tomorrow''s Tremble. For now, she paced on all fours for a bit, before settling down to sleep in her secret hole.

 Chapter 23: We Girls Spend A lot of Time Killing

    *swish* Trip¡¯s Remark, The Perfect Chrysolite, cut through the air and onto the deck, Devon dodged it just in time.


    ¡°You gotta be quicker than that!¡± She said, giddy with exertion.


    ¡°No, you need to be slower!¡± Complained Plunge, her trident Remark, Fortunate Tides, lazily cutting the air around her, a whirlpool tunnel of water where ever she stabbed. Devon ducked under it while Adam ran interference, hassling Dive as his fishing rod Remark flailed uselessly.


    Devon bumped into Stumble, who stabbed her in the heart with a short sword, killing her instantly.


    She laughed it off. It wasn¡¯t real, just Stumble¡¯s Trick, a poor imitation of Hailien¡¯s. ¡°Really, Stumble. You think I¡¯m not familiar with death?¡± She easily deflected the actual attack with her palm, pushing her aside and running at Collapse.


    Collapse signed something and rolled her Remark, aptly named Roll the Bones. The dice landed on a five. Like it had a life of its own, the dice popped up and hit Devon in the gut with the force of a cannon. Devon fell back with an oof, while Plunge collided with Collapse. Without even doing anything two of her opponents had been taken out. Stumble wasn¡¯t getting up, and Dive had retreated to the lower decks due to Adam¡¯s badgering. Leaving only Trip, smirking like things were going in his favor.


    ¡°Remember my rule!¡± Trip shouted, holding Perfect Chrysolite like a ward. ¡°You and Adam can¡¯t target the same opponent at once!¡±


    She cracked her knuckles, advancing on him with a swagger in her step. ¡°Yeah¡­ that won¡¯t be an issue.¡±


    Right before she was about to pound Trip into next week, Hailien¡¯s Remark cut the space between them.


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough sparring for today.¡± She turned her attention to the rest of the crew, sprawled out and groaning. ¡°Smart move teaming up against your biggest threat. Outside of that¡­¡± and her lack of any other positives spoke for themselves. With a salute to Devon she went back below deck.


    Devon fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Considering she had just won handily, it was surprising to her that she felt so exhausted.


    ¡°Are you okay Devon?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± There was an odd weight to her body that felt new, like wearing a hefty suit of armor, or walking in the ocean. ¡°Actually, you tell me. My body feels¡­ slower.¡±


    ¡±Oh, that.¡± Adam said, ¡°I¡¯ve been slowly adjusting your mass to be lower to the ground and exert more force on the earth. In other words, gravity reads you as heavier than you actually are, approximately 1.81 times heavier, and reacts accordingly. I may have overdone it today though, the process has become automatic and the growth rate has been accelerating.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck, thats the coolest thing anyone¡¯s ever done for me.¡± She let out a laugh, spooking Trip, still in a heap nearby. ¡°So if you reset it to normal, I¡¯ll be stronger, cause gravity will feel lighter?¡±


    ¡±Well, yes, but-¡°


    ¡°And what if you could adjust it like a sliding scale? Like, switch from 25% to 75%. Oh! And imagine if we¡¯re fighting, and right when I¡¯m about to punch them we push things to 100%.¡±


    ¡±Devon, that¡¯s all possible, but the reason I¡¯m strengthening your body is to prepare you for Total Cell Integration.¡±


    She didn¡¯t know how Adam was able to express capital letters in her mind, but the importance of those words were as clear as if he had written them down and underlined them. The patterns he was making in her head were nostalgic, she had developed a disgust for those feelings.


    ¡°Have you mentioned that before?¡±


    ¡±Has there been time?¡±


    ¡°Grand, you can be so difficult¡± She busied her body by jogging around the deck of the Eggshell, the surf lapping up and greeting her as she rounded the port side.


    ¡±I haven¡¯t suggested it before.¡± He said, the tone made it seem like a confession. ¡°You remember Capacity?¡±


    Hah. Like an old family friend. Of course she remembered, the nightmare with her face. The walking talking invalidation. Such an awful name. ¡°Not until you bought her up!¡± She said, snapping down hard on that last word. She had done two laps now, since then the whole Fall Collective had come out of their injured stupor to crowd around starboard. Some nonsense that didn¡¯t concern her. ¡°What about her?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re ready yet.¡± He retreated a bit, nestling down in a muffled part of her brain that made her feel refreshingly clear. Fine, whatever. She walked over to the gathered crowd, all pushing and shoving to stare at something.


    It seemed to be a buoy. And not a particularly interesting one either. Black and red stripes like a butcher¡¯s pole, leaning to the left as it fought a losing battle to the waves.


    Neat, if you were deprived of entertainment. And yet all of them were staring at it rapt, having heated arguments that she couldn¡¯t quite parse.


    ¡±What¡¯s up with that buoy?¡±


    Trip was the first to turn, him and Collapse untangled themselves from the crowd. ¡°Are you referring to the piece of driftwood?¡±


    ¡±What?¡±


    Collapse hit him upside the head and signed furiously.


    ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Trip said, relenting. ¡°Collapse thinks it¡¯s a crate.¡±


    She enthusiastically pointed to a nearby crate, as if to remind Devon as to what crates looked like.


    She looked at the crate, then she looked at the buoy.


    Wasn¡¯t even crate shaped, and clearly not a piece of driftwood.


    ¡°If this is a game it¡¯s a shit one.¡± She tapped Stumble on the shoulder, who screamed in response. ¡±I didn¡¯t do it!¡± She said as she turned, looking guiltier than Devon thought was possible. Whatever Stumble thought she knew she didn¡¯t.


    Devon kept her eyes on the buoy. ¡°Yeah I¡¯m not, uh, don¡¯t worry about it. What¡¯s your take on that thing?¡±


    She wiped off some flopsweat and recovered her default giddiness. ¡°Oh, that! Well, it¡¯s a fridge, but no one believes me.¡±


    ¡±A fridge?¡± Plunge said, frozen like a sand garden. ¡°How¡¯d you arrive at that? Do you not see the tell tale wheels of a quad cycle?¡±


    ¡±A statue!¡± Shouted Dive, driven to tears by this argument. He pounded the railing. ¡°It¡¯s a fucking statue I¡¯ve been telling you guys!!¡±


    ¡±Yeah, sure Dive!¡± They all said in unison. None of them would admit to being wrong, but they were all more than happy to dogwolfpile on him when the situation emerged.


    ¡±Hey Adam.¡± She tossed him casually over board. He rose into view a few seconds later, rising in a sluggish fashion. ¡°Go check out the buoy.¡±


    ¡°I see it as a mirror adrift in the sea. We¡¯re all seeing different things. I would be surprised if mine was correct.¡±


    She let him move by himself, silently judging the movements he made, she couldn¡¯t help thinking about the micro adjustments she would have made and how she would have moved him differently. The others kept on arguing, it was their sport.


    ¡°It¡¯s strange. This mirror, I have seen it before. And I know it quite well, have known it, but for some reason specifics that used to be so clear are nowhere to be found.¡±


    She felt the same with the buoy. She had absolutely seen it before, but where? It was like the memory of it had been ripped from her mind and placed right there in the sea.


    Something was wrong.


    ¡°Get Hailien.¡± She said. Trip and Stumble raced each other for the honor.


    ¡±Oh, there¡¯s a sense of, a sense of something far greater. Can you feel it from there Devon? Like an aura around the object.¡±


    ¡°Is it a Remark?¡± Devon asked. The buoy continued to bounce around, the thought of it being in any way dangerous laughable. And yet¡­


    ¡°With certainty.¡± Adam was so far away now. A tiny splotch of amber brown still approaching the buoy. ¡°What I don¡¯t understand is where the Remark¡¯s duelist is.¡±


    And then Adam was gone. She couldn¡¯t see him, she couldn¡¯t feel him. She suddenly felt a lot lighter. In front of them was the buoy, the shadow of the Helot, and the unflinching wall of the Drum (a dream everyone has).Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    And absolutely nothing else.


    They were suddenly hit by something heavy and invisible.


    It crushed starboard, pressure destroying the walls and breaking wooden fixtures. The rigging got tangled in the invisible, wrapping around appendages long and sharp. This thing had a shape. It was big and had claws.


    Hailien came out just as the deck was bitten into. She had her Remark out and ran to starboard. With a firm hand she shoved Devon down as a claw visible with rigging made a swipe at them. ¡°Collapse! Ready to spare some luck?¡±


    Collapse, balancing on what remained of the main mast, nodded and bought out Roll the Bones. Like she had done before she rolled one while keeping the other firm in her hand. It landed at Devon¡¯s feet. There were only six sides, but on the front facing side were seven dots.


    Lots of luck.


    Right as the invisible thing caved in a large chunk of the deck, Collapse threw the other dice. It hit something fleshy.


    It hit a man, suddenly visible, hovering above them, holding a ship in a bottle. Heavily tattooed, dreads, an attempt at a mustache, he coughed up blood.


    Where his left eye had been was the dice, gently rolling in his pupil. He took a few lumbering steps and fell into the sea.


    With the duelist dead, his Trick was ceased. They could now see the invisible thing.


    Unfortunately, it was a giant damned crustacean. Those horrifying sea beasts whose shells resembled skulls and who cried in the language of the slaughtered. It was what the Eggshell was made of, but instead of a shell, it was the whole beast, very much alive, and towering over the remains of the ship, it¡¯s fortress like prosoma 100 feet tall and slowly grinding the Eggshell into nothing.


    ¡±That doesn¡¯t help us at all!¡± Stumble screamed. She ran to a barrel and opened it desperately.


    Watches spilled out as the others broke all pretenses of trying to fight this thing and focused all their energy on running around in a terrified fashion. Only Hailien was trying, slashing furiously at the prosoma, it¡¯s carapace strangely metallic.


    Devon had Adam back. It was so seamless that she hadn¡¯t noticed. She still had that lightness in her body, but her head buzzed with nervous patterns.


    ¡±Devon, you¡¯re back, thank grand.¡±


    The ship was turned by a massive claw so that it was facing the crustacean head on. Everyone grabbed hold of something. Except for Stumble, who pancaked flat into the pile of hissing watches.


    ¡±I can¡¯t see you but I can feel you, there¡¯s people inside.¡±


    The lines on the damned crustaceans chest moved upwards, revealing a massive black doorway, like a gate.


    ¡±It¡¯s not a monster, it¡¯s a machine. Whatever you do, do not get eaten by it.¡±


    The monster advanced, its black void portal engulfing the good ship Eggshell like a tunnel. The light closed shut behind them. The last thing Devon saw was a string moving like a worm out of the barrel and right into Stumble¡¯s eye.


    .


    .


    .


    It was exactly twenty three seconds before anything happened. Trip counted.


    There they were in darkness, Collapse being vindicated as a invaluable member of the ships crew, considering the Eggshell hadn¡¯t sunk.


    Torches by the bushel full sprung out from the walls of the creatures stomach, all the flames were affixed to spikes protrusions that came out of the strangely smooth walls, the color of the flames reflected within. It was like being in the inside of an ice cube, not at all what Trip expected from a damned crustacean. People watched from large holes in the wall. Their features suggestions, their eyes pure white.


    Then there was a knife held to his throat. There was one for each of them. One knife for each throat, held by a hand that ended at the elbow.


    ¡±We won¡¯t kill you, this is for your own protection!.¡±


    From high above there was a voice. As his eyes adjusted he saw high heels, broad shoulders, coattails, and wild hair that came down to the waist. The speaker was sitting on a swing of some kind, slowly swinging back and forth. Below the swing dangled one, two, three, no, four bodies, all wearing Death Wyrm masks, all very clearly dead. Where their numbers once were was distended flesh and black bruises.


    This person had killed Numbers. Looking at the knife at all their throats, the dozens of people that surrounded them, peeking out from small holes in the wall, they were fucked. Grand, he didn¡¯t like to say it, or think it, but they were fucked.


    The swing they were sitting on (was it made of bone?) lowered with a rattling of chains. The speaker was a woman, or at least feminine. She had on a golden half mask, the image of a smiling Death Wyrm whose frills leaped out like the sun. Below that she wore a tight head covering that displayed a visual loop of a smiling woman, makeup and hairstyle far out of date. If you weren¡¯t paying attention you¡¯d think it was her own skin.


    She was adorned with medals, melted down and turned into a cloak of rotting silvers and golds. A garbage pile of achievements. She loomed down, long skinny arms fixed rigid to the chains as she craned her neck over. ¡°We won¡¯t kill you, you¡¯ll kill yourselves. In a desperate attempt to get out. For that is the rules all Numbers live by now.¡±


    The knife at his neck brushed up against skin. Razor wire at his Adams apple. If he gulped he¡¯d get cut. He didn¡¯t even breathe.


    He turned his eyes to see Devon, pushing the sword away with a bloody hand. Shockingly, all the other hands repeated the motion, releasing their necks, and suddenly they were all free.


    The crowd yelled in disapproval. Several of them hopped out of their holes and onto what remained of the ship. Devon met them and took them handily, Adam swooped into her hand. Faces were cut, throats were slit, Remarks did not have time to be summoned as she killed half a dozen people in seconds.


    ¡±Alright that''s enough!¡±


    The lighting had changed, now all the torches were being held by those hands, all poised to throw their flames straight into the boat.


    Devon had her hands around a shirtless man patterned with scars. Slowly she removed her grip.


    ¡°Congratulations. You went from not worth killing to worthy of an exception!¡± What remained of the crowd cheered. The scarred man smiled.


    That smile disappeared when Hailien approached him, her shadow darkening his pale complexion. ¡°I see you have no love for Lemure¡¯s Legacy.¡± She motioned to the corpses jittering at the leaders feet.


    The crowd let out a few ¡°You got that right!¡± and ¡°Death to the legacy!¡±. Trip wrinkled his nose, while he agreed with the sentiment, he couldn¡¯t see these people as allies.


    ¡°Well, we have a woman here who killed a Constant.¡± She extended an arm to Devon, who somehow found the wherewithal to give a little bow. It was a bit much, to Trip. But then again he hadn¡¯t killed a Constant.


    The leader was not impressed. With a dismissive flick she cut one of the ropes. The body that fell hit the edge of the Eggshell with a thunk. Trip thought he recognized the face. Thought he did.


    ¡±Three chances.¡± She said, holding up three long fingers. ¡°Five duels, if you lose three, we¡¯ll kill all of you.¡±


    Devon didn¡¯t seem concerned. ¡°I accept.¡± She shouted. ¡°Is it cool if I fight them all?¡±


    ¡°Obviously not!¡± Her head craned from person to person, each of Trip¡¯s crewmates flinching when she met their eyes (all except Stumble, oddly calm, unlike her.) ¡°The old rules are dead and your words are suggestions, not orders. I was a Reserve member, and then the news dropped. You killed a Constant? I¡¯ve killed six Numbers, my name is One-Three-Nine¡± she pronounced each number individually ¡°thats what you get when you add all their values together. No names, nothing formal, just pure raw data. A record of my conquests. What value are Constants when they don¡¯t have any-¡± she licked her lips, breathed in sharply ¡°numberssss?¡±


    This was all nonsense to Trip but the crowd cheered like a point had been made.


    ¡±Hailien?¡± He turned to her, hoping for something.


    She folded her arms, her Remark strapped firmly to her back. ¡°We fight by their rules. They overwhelm and outnumber us.¡± There was a pun there, and Trip hated that he was the type of person to notice that. ¡°Although-¡°


    There was commotion from underneath. Four of 139¡¯s men came out with a whirling tornado, a terrifying Abberation of claws and pain.


    It was Tremble, and she shifted back to a more human form with the bonk of a rolling pin.


    ¡±-When it comes to the fighters, I have my preferences¡± Hailien said, motioning the rest of the crew to get as far away from Tremble as possible.


    The four Duelists joined the scarred man at what remained of the ships bow. Looks like their opponents had already been picked out.


    ¡°The first match!¡± 139 commanded ¡°will be between¡± The torch bearing hands all pointed down at the scarred man, smiling like he expected this. ¡°David Sabotage. And his opponent.¡± The torches glow fell on Trip. ¡°Whats your name, little Number?¡±


    He was a Number, technically. The thought was funny, as it hasn¡¯t been relevant for months. And when the smart veins went bad and turned that number into splotch, well, he thought it didn¡¯t count anymore, that he had successfully outrun the past. The past always caught up. Good or bad the past always caught up.


    ¡±My name is Trip-¡°


    ¡±Not your name.¡± The crowd booed. ¡°Your number¡±


    He couldn¡¯t remember. It was just a number, by the time it froze he didn¡¯t care anymore. Something in the 20s probably. So he said something plausible, ¡°25¡±.


    Was it true? Grand knows. One in nine chance, but they bought it.


    The fall collective and their allies huddled up at starboard quarter. (stern didn¡¯t exist anymore, so it had to do) Stumble suddenly grabbed his arm, her eyes manic. ¡°You lied, it was 24.¡±


    ¡±What?¡±


    ¡±Your number. 24.¡± She mouthed it again, like a secret between them. Her pupils darted this way and that, they squashed and stretched. It must have been a trick of the light.


    He stepped around her and summoned his Remark. They could talk about this later.


    ¡°This will be a match for value!¡± 139 boomed. Her voice rang out loud and clear. The flames rippled at her words, the way water responds to stone.


    ¡°24¡± The crowd booed him. He motioned to his friends to give him some encouragement. Dive tried to get a chant going. Stumble wandered over to the side of the ship and retched.


    ¡°You¡¯re the only one during our skirmishes I have a tough time with.¡± Devon offered. She shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that will do you or us any good, but it¡¯s true.¡±


    Despite himself, he smiled. His thoughts on Devon could be boiled down to the word envy. Knowing she thought highly of him was a drug. Pure dream dust. His pride too big to think it was niceness.


    Nah, nah, she was right, he¡¯d kick this guy¡¯s ass. He was the best fighter in the Fall Collective.


    ¡±And his opponent.¡± With the excitement of a repeat offender, David unzipped a scar on his chest and pulled out a massive organ. It was hard, calcified, and drenched in fluid. It also resembled a mace. With the skill of a tailor he sutured up the scar and held the organ mace high up for everyone to see, it pulsed with life. ¡°The living armory, David Sabotage.¡±


    Trip was the best fighter in the Fall Collective. But he had doubts that meant anything against a guy who could weaponize his own innards.

 Chapter 24: Terror is alike all over. All over terror is alike.

    Trip didn¡¯t know if he wanted to date her or be her.


    She was a supervisor while he was a hole attendant. Her name was Thella. Never got her last name but that fit her aesthetic, you know? So based in anonymity, a snug little suggestion of the unknown.


    A black bar that hovered above her eyes, some hot fashion trend from Deligosia. A gray jumpsuit that wasn¡¯t trying to flatter, a work uniform she made into her own. And yet it was her hair that Trip couldn¡¯t stop thinking about. She spent so much time on her hair, coiffed, lush, and always a different color. Anytime she was late that was the go to joke. ¡°Oh, Thella, had to run out and get another can of conditioner?¡± What surprised Trip was she never found the joke funny, no matter how good his delivery was.


    Days with her on duty were always tolerable. There was nothing to fear thanks to her Remark, and she always killed aberrations with a smile.


    ¡±You¡¯re not even a Legacy member?¡± he asked her the first time, mouth agape at how easily she had just killed a towering aberration.


    ¡°Nope. That''s not where true strength lies,¡± she said, covertly tucking the severed head of the monster in a bag. ¡°You¡¯ll find it through killing.¡±


    Hailien was there sometimes. Every few days she would appear and talk with Thella or one of the other supervisors. The brute was always in a dour mood when she left, and Trip developed a dislike for her without sharing a single word.


    ¡±She¡¯s constantly trying to recruit.¡± Thella hocked a loogie. ¡°We keep the wall clean, and in return they try to steal our best employees, it¡¯s pathetic.¡± She ruffled his hair. ¡°This job might not be great, but it beats dying.¡±


    The contrarian in him wanted to disagree, that for most of them death and the job would prove to be synonymous. But he liked the way her fingers coursed through his hair too much to argue.


    On his last day, Trip arrived late. There was no real reason for it. A bad feeling coupled with a lack of sleep the night before. Some new dream about being trapped in a giant drum.


    He skirted under the barrier after punching in, the guy who was supposed to lift it was either asleep or absent.


    Stepping into the break room, the red clay walls were dark with blood but no bodies. He drew his Remark. It was only a few inches and its Trick was undeveloped, but better that than nothing.


    ¡°Thella?¡± His hand glid across the smooth surface of the wall as the wind whispered, it kept him centered. He went up a level on the scaffolding and there was Thella. Her hair was lavender purple today.


    Big smile, ushering him forward with a nod, hands behind her back. He had to ask.


    ¡°Thella, what''s going on?¡±


    She shushed him and pointed at hole 57A. It hadn¡¯t been half as large last shift. Something orange and viscous was pooled around her feet, streaming out from the hole.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna wanna see this.¡±


    It took his eyes a second to adjust. There was something squatting in the hole, undulating as it made inane noises.


    Heads, multiple heads. Heads supported on necks made of hands. A spine crest made of ears. Nails made of noses. It was massive, even a hole as big as this was positively cramped for the thing. It chewed noisily on a body.


    ¡°That¡¯s an aberration.¡±


    Her strong arms gripped his shoulders. Whatever shape her face took made a audible crack, he dared not turn around to see how. ¡°No, it¡¯s something better than an aberration. It¡¯s a guard dog.¡±


    The multiple heads continued to chow down. Behind it he saw people huddled together. His coworkers, still alive.


    ¡±This thing will do our job for us; it kills everything, it¡¯s as strong as a nest of abbies, and it¡¯s under my control.¡± Her hands carved into his shoulders. He was paralyzed.


    The guard dog lulled a lazy head towards his coworkers. One of them tried to run and was snatched up in the mouth. Teeth the size of wooden poles clamped down and it wasn¡¯t a man anymore, just meat.


    ¡±We need to save them.¡±


    ¡±No, nooooo,¡± she said, moving nimble fingers to his neck. Another crack. ¡°We don¡¯t need them anymoreeee; the guard dog makes them irrelevant. Best they can do is serveeeee as a snack.¡±


    Why was she talking like that? Was she trying to be funny? He looked at the others, alive but terrified. He didn¡¯t know their names. That was fucking awful, they didn¡¯t deserve to die anonymous.


    She turned him towards her. Her smile was all wrong, too many angles, the whites of her eyes bulging behind her black head ware, now a deep purple to match her hair.


    He asked her why she was doing this. Did something happen, was she driven insane, had her mind been taken over?


    Thella laughed and laughed. ¡°Oh you sweeeeeet idiot, nothing¡¯s changed. this is just the typeeeee of person I am. I¡¯ve alllllways been like this, and I¡¯ve neverrrrrrr tried to hide it.¡±


    And with little effort she pushed him to the ground. He hit the clay hard and his throat hitched. Something broke.


    The guard dog emerged from the hole, tanned and tangled. It was disturbingly apparent there was no one source for its body, this was created piecemeal. Faces and flesh mashed together and not in a way that made sense.


    She walked into view with the confidence of a proud parent, leaning her body against the disturbingly vascular flesh and looking happier than Trip had ever seen her. (he wanted to cry)


    ¡°In this way I worship Death, in this way I justify my life. I think I¡¯d like a private dance. Yes. I think I¡¯d like a private danceeeeee.¡±


    There was a snap so loud it made Trip¡¯s eardrums burst. Not from Thella.


    From the direction of the sound came an overly muscled brute. Hailien. Harsh skin and cool metal. She gripped Thella¡¯s face and redirected her attention to the ground. Thella¡¯s head hit and her face cracked open like an egg. The yolk had gone bad.


    The guard dog was killed, messier than Thella¡¯s death for sure, but Trip was wiping off the blood and generally just, generally just not there.


    He took out his punchcard. Time to leave.


    He walked back to the entrance, the sound of steel was quieter there.


    It was good, it was all good. He had to get home, he had to wash off the blood. But first he had to clock out, he didn¡¯t want to commit time theft, he was already late, what would Thella say?


    Had he clocked in? It didn¡¯t matter, it didn¡¯t matter.


    Oops. His fingers were heavy, he couldn¡¯t get the card into the slot. Clumsy. Not like him. Was it the blood? Was there another punchcard he could use? The room tipped to the left and he lost the will to stand as the punch card slipped from his grasp. What would he do if he couldn¡¯t punch out?


    Hailien was there, covered in orange blood. She picked up the card, stamped something onto it, and handed it back to him. Behind her in a huddle were his workmates, the ones whose names he did not know.


    ¡±Get up.¡± She said, ¡°You¡¯re never working here again.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s your move man, we can¡¯t start until you say so,¡± David said. Courteous for a guy using his own organs as weapons. Who said chivalry was dead?


    Trip was staring off into space. He had mastered the art of looking smart and ponderous, even when disassociating. In his mind''s eye was Thella and she was the crowd roaring at him. Not to mention the black sea below them. What would she think if she saw him now?


    As if David was interrupting something more important, Trip sighed and turned slowly, with his hands tight behind his back, Remark grasped firmly. ¡°I can¡¯t say it¡¯s smart, but it¡¯s a daring choice to kill yourself before the fight has even started.¡±


    ¡±What?¡±


    The raucous crowd simmered down, unsure how to respond. His own corner cheered, he was playing it like the time he talked that pirate captain into fleeing, being so obtuse the only smart option was to disengage.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I need to explain.¡± He made a gesture like tossing dice and pointed at his opponent''s Remark, an organ in the shape of a weapon he had pulled out of his stomach. ¡°You have an open wound and are holding an organ of, I assume, some importance. I¡¯m not sure if you know this, but thats gonna be fatal 10 times out of 9.¡±


    ¡°Woo!!¡±, cheered Dive.


    ¡±Fuck him up Trip!¡±, Devon yelled.


    The man¡¯s complexion darkened as he narrowed his eyes. ¡°This is my Remark, fucker. You know what tricks are. Right? Right??¡±


    Of course he did, but, he thought, lets explain it for those in the back.


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    ¡°How, exactly, is wounding yourself a Trick? Really it seems like you¡¯re doing me a favor. Unorthodox, certainly, but it takes all kinds.¡±


    He knew his smarmy attitude was hitting when he annoyed himself.


    ¡±Shut up. Here¡¯s my Remark.¡± He gestured to the semi translucent substance that sparkled in his wound. ¡°They¡¯re not always swords or clubs, especially if you know what you¡¯re doing. Bet someone like you couldn¡¯t even fathom the depths of what¡¯s truly possible.¡±


    ¡±Hmm, maybe.¡± Esoteric crawl shit. He cocked his head, glasses falling to the edge of his nose. ¡°I bet that I¡¯ll surprise you with a Trick of my own.¡±


    ¡±Hah! Yeah sure, if you think so kid.¡± David said, raising an eyebrow for the audience¡¯s benefit. Trip had him.


    ¡°Before we begin, let me introduce my Trick¡±, Trip said. He bought out his Remark and showed it to the crowd. ¡°I can define one rule of this duel that we both must abide by.¡±


    ¡±I don¡¯t agree to that,¡± David said.


    ¡±It doesn¡¯t matter¡± He took his glasses off to polish them, averting his gaze to keep up the mystique. ¡°Neither of us can push the other into the water, that''s the rule.¡±


    David picked a scab with his weapon as the crowd threw garbage. ¡°Eh, and what if I do?¡±


    Trip wagged a finger. ¡°By the rules of my Remark you¡¯ll be unable to move for five minutes.¡±


    David sauntered forward, his weapon dangling like the corpses high above. ¡°Okay then, you done?¡±, his left pupil lost step with the right, veering downwards. ¡°If not, I¡¯m past caring.¡±


    The duel had commenced.


    David wielded his organ weapon like a cane, thrusting it forward and readjusted his grip to pull it upwards in an arc, the goo of his Remark glistened and flew off in patterns. Trip was not skilled when it came to blocking. He conceded the ground strike after strike, keeping his Remark close to his face and moving to the right, that way David couldn¡¯t pin him to the wall.


    And then Trip got nasty. David thrusted again aiming for his eye. Trip ducked it by moving forward and idly swiping, but what he was really after was a rotten drabbage fruit thrown from the crowd that had fallen at his feet. He shoved the fruit straight in David¡¯s eye.


    His opponent groaned, wiping the bright pink juice off in a weighty fashion, hand gripping flesh and nails raking at the skin. He was down a hand then, and Trip took the opportunity to win the match, then and there.


    For every thrust Trip hit back three times. He had a rhythm going now. David¡¯s back was to the edge now. There wasn¡¯t a railing there, it had been taken out during the initial attack. Trip would have to be careful here, him winning this fight hinged on the next few moments.


    With a heavy slap David sent Trip wheeling backwards, hitting the ground at the price of his pride.


    David stood point at the edge and urged Trip forward. ¡°Come on buddy, you still have a chance.¡±


    He looked down below, whistling at the water Trip couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Gehenna weather down below, but I bet I could get back up with time to spare.¡±


    Trip was at him with hatred. Remark in the cheek, drawing blood but more a way to get the attention off the other hand as he kept David at the edge. He had no strength advantage, but he did have surprise on his side.


    ¡°Wait, what are you-¡° David grabbed his shoulder but there was no real power behind it, no threat to Trip¡¯s plan.


    ¡°I¡¯m pushing you in of course.¡± The shock combined with how straight up stupid of a strategy this was was enough to send David over the edge.


    David hit the water like a dumped singwhale carcass, breaching a minute later spitting out salt water.


    Trip sat on the edge, legs swaying. ¡°Remember that bet we made, that you didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to surprise you? Well guess what! That was never my trick, this is¡±


    David froze up, the trigger word said and the conditions met. His eyebrow raised, mouth pursed into a pucker, about to yell most likely. He sank to the bottom with that expression in place as the goo of his Remark covered his face.


    Trip didn¡¯t know how long a person could survive underwater. Definitely shorter than five minutes though. Ought to be.


    He thought about Thella some more.


    ¡­


    ¡±Why didn¡¯t he focus on desummoning his opponents Remark? The fight would be over in seconds.¡±


    ¡°Eh, he wanted to feed his ego a bit¡±, Devon said, deep into a crow pose. Adam had taught her all sorts of fun exercises, what he called calisthenic holds, all Remark users were well versed, or atleast used to be.


    It gave her an outlet for her constant energy that wasn¡¯t punching holes in the ship''s carapace, something Adam was very happy with.


    ¡°He stated clearly that his Remark was a sort of amniotic fluid. By getting him to lose his concentration, there would have been nothing protecting his organs.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡±, she shifted her weight and leaned further into the pose. ¡°I didn¡¯t notice.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fascinating, the way he uses his Remark makes him vulnerable as soon as he summons it. Surely he¡¯s aware of the danger that puts him in, I wonder why he would¡­ hmm¡±, Adam hummed, his little glass body wiggled. ¡°His Remark signature is still active by the way, he must have incredibly robust lungs to still be alive down there.¡±


    The others had all rushed Trip and given him a hero''s welcome, hoisting him up and parading him on their shoulders as their future opponents watched. The crowd continued showering them with half eaten foodstuffs.


    Even Tremble was involved, though only on the margins, trying to say she was a part of it by holding up one of his boots by the fingernails. Only Stumble stayed behind, muttering to herself and staring at her hands. Devon wasn¡¯t an authority on Stumble or how normal this was for her.


    The crowd quieted down, the steam of food slowly coming to a stop. One with bright red hair and a mustache to match even mimed checking a non existent watch. It struck her as odd they weren¡¯t rioting. Their guy had lost, where was the anger?


    ¡°We should consider escaping now.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±, she was having fun here and they were winning. She wanted a chance to fight 139 before the day was over. ¡°Scared that we¡¯ll lose?¡±


    ¡±Yes, considering the Remark signature of Trips opponent has yet to go out.¡±


    Information potent enough to shake her arms, but not enough to make her break her pose. She had been holding it for six minutes and by Grand she was not going to let the news that they may be fucked break it. ¡°It¡¯s been five minutes, he got frozen by Trip. Look, they¡¯re celebrating, and people only celebrate when they have reason to. It¡¯s the law.¡±


    With a thud, David beached himself on the deck.


    That sticky¡­ nomonic (¡°amniotic, Devon¡±) was crawling all over him, moving at a different rate. It was like holding an object close to your eyes and making it match in size with something much farther away (¡°the word you¡¯re looking for is superimposed, Devon¡±)


    ¡°It seems he protected himself with his amniotic fluid underwater.¡±


    ¡°I can see that¡±


    She got out of her pose and moved cautiously towards him, Adam drawn. The others hadn¡¯t noticed yet, they were convinced the sudden cheers of the crowd were for their benefit. It was a low key return. A gooey arm raised a fist to the crowd as David nodded to his team mates. I just survived being frozen in open water for five minutes, his body said, no biggie!


    David unzipped another scar, pulling out two battle axe shaped lungs he wielded like organs.


    ¡°Hey party boy¡±, David said. ¡°Ready to finish?¡±


    ¡±Oh shi-¡°, now they noticed.


    Making like their namesake, the Fall Collective toppled and scrambled, leaving Trip in masse like a insect colony bound for riper pastures. He was alone now, looking up at his opponent. His cool demeanor, gone. His cocky smile, never there. He got up on shaky legs and drew his Remark. ¡°I¡­ I Bet that you won¡¯t-¡°


    A kick to the face, followed by two quick horizontal slashes that tore Trips stomach. The crowd was ecstatic, demanding him to show even less mercy. Trip''s defense was to run away and endlessly reposition his Remark, switching from one hand to the other like a chef handling hot food.


    ¡±He needs to recover¡±, Devon said. She gripped her legs, pinching sore muscles and trying to control the urge to finish the fight herself.


    ¡±Destabilize the other¡¯s Remark. Thats the key. It¡¯s so obvious, why is no one else- express to him that it¡¯s quickly becoming the only option left.¡±


    Blood streaming down his face, his once clean uniform were dark red tatters. Trip was in no shape to hear anyone out. Still she had to try.


    ¡°Trip! Get rid of his Remark.¡±


    ¡±You mean throw it?¡±, he had climbed up the mast, clutching a nasty head wound while David threw cheap shots at his heels. A few more decent hits and the mast would be down, Trips options limited to a fair fight he was in no shape for. ¡°Like into the sea? How the fuck do I do that?¡± He seemed to have forgotten the Remark was the fluid, and not the lung axes.


    ¡±If he loses, we can take the loss¡±, Hailien muttered, her arms crossed and expression unreadable.


    ¡±Captain¡­ I don¡¯t want Trip to die¡±, Dive said.


    ¡±Can¡¯t we do something?¡±, Plunge asked.


    With gusto, Collapse signed something aggressively. Devon wished she knew sign language.


    Tremble walked up like she was universally beloved. With her arms spread wide she tilted her head and gave a smile filled with teeth. ¡°Don¡¯t worry new friends and former adversaries, I understand and speak the language wars are won in. Observe.¡±


    ¡±Oh no.¡±


    With unnecessary speed Tremble pounced on David. The crowd went quiet like an orderly evacuation, leaving more space in the air for the screams that followed.


    His Remark outer coating withered at her touch and was soon gone. His organs bubbled up like a geyser and evacuated his body. He was dead within seconds but he kept shaking long after the novelty had worn off.


    She curtsied to the crowd calling for her death. Hailien tackled her and brought her back kicking and screaming to their corner. Trip slid down from the mast in a daze, comforted by Collapse who lead him back.


    ¡±Illegal interference¡± 139 said, ¡°The Numbers have forfeited this round.¡± A corpse fell. Now there were only two. She held her gloved hand inches from the other two ropes, and then she cut another one. The crowd reacted like she had killed a Death Wyrm.


    ¡±After deferring to those who I have devoured and gained the souls of, it¡¯s clear there must be an additional penalty. Therefore, the first corpse was for losing, and the second was for breaking the sanctity of single combat.¡±


    ¡°This is bad, we should try and sneak out. Three straight wins with no room for error, we can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°I can do it¡±, Devon said. ¡°You know I can.¡±


    She stepped forward to volunteer. She¡¯d take the heat off everyone else and wipe the floor with the rest of the idiots. They¡¯d be out of here in minutes.


    ¡°The next match will be between the one who interfered against an opponent of the other team''s choice.¡±


    Tremble ran past her, cheeks flushed with pride. She blew kisses to the crowd as she took a stance and her hands became claws. ¡°A thousand pardons to whom I¡¯m about to kill. Let it lighten your offspring''s heart that your demise will be worthy of tales told for centuries to come!¡±


    Adam was right. She should have killed her when she had the chance.

 Chapter 25: Pleasure Killer

    ¡±Well, my team of Numbers to be,¡± 139 said, ¡°do you know who you¡¯ll pit against this rule breaker? Someone unfair is the only correct response.¡±


    The four surviving members of the team huddled together, matching Tremble¡¯s giddy energy. If they were shaken up by David¡¯s gruesome death they didn¡¯t show it.


    ¡°We¡¯re doomed¡­ we¡¯re fucking doomed.¡± An unhelpful thing to say in a time like this. Devon would have chastised Dive but she knew how Adam got when she did. He was the most bullyable of the Collective, and it was hard to resist the urge to smack him on the head when he got like this.


    ¡±I think this is Stumble¡¯s fault. Anyone else think it¡¯s Stumble¡¯s fault?¡± Plunge scanned the faces of the others, the way her nose poked out from her neck warmer was unfortunately very comical, even in a situation like this.


    ¡±Guys let¡¯s not-¡° recovering from his almost death, Trip could only get three words in before Dive grabbed Stumble and started accusing her of a thousand different things.


    With a bit of a boost from Adam, Devon slid in between them. ¡°Hey come on. Listen, I don''t like Tremble either.¡±


    ¡±No one does¡±, Hailien said. ¡°No one likes or wants Tremble to be here.¡± Stoic as always.


    ¡±Y-yeah. No one but Stumble,¡± Dive was sweating so much it shouldn¡¯t have been possible, the inside of the pirate¡¯s ship was chilly, hands in pockets weather. ¡°Confess, you were the one who let her on, weren¡¯t you?¡±, he said, trying to sound intimidating even as Devon blocked his view.


    ¡°Stumble, how do you plead?¡± Plunge asked.


    Stumble didn¡¯t even look up. She was still mumbling to herself, pupils moving so fast they were doing loops.


    ¡±I think she¡¯s in shock,¡± Devon gently guided Stumble away from the others.


    ¡±There¡¯s something else going on. Her Remark signature has changed.¡±


    ¡°Her Remark signature has changed, you know how people get.¡± Devon explained to the others. ¡°She¡¯s stressed, we¡¯re stressed. Let her recover and then I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll take the blame.¡±


    They all nodded, accepting this easily. Which was a relief, because Devon had no idea what anything Adam said had meant and would not have been able to explain if asked.


    Dive folded his arms. ¡±I¡¯m not¡­ I won¡¯t be easy on her when she snaps out of it. Someone has to answer for this.¡±


    The pirate team ended their discussion, and a representative came forward, gesturing towards one of their own, a tall cloaked figure. ¡°We have chosen Kirst Clotting.¡±


    ¡±That''s not good,¡± Hailien said. Again, no sign in her tone that this was good, bad, or anything other than a comment on the fact that it was a thing.


    ¡±The pleasure killer.¡± Trip said, meeting Devon''s eye. ¡°I thought he lived in The Silver Streets, what¡¯s he doing here?¡±


    She gave him a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of the guy.¡±


    ¡±Trip only knows him from me, so don¡¯t feel bad,¡± Hailien said.


    Kirst took off his cloak, revealing a man with a barrel chest and a soggy beard. His eyes possessed a strange immediacy that made it hard to focus on anything else. His clothes, yellow undershirt, maybe green. Suspenders attached to grey pants, nothing else that mattered, her gaze kept going back to his eyes.


    ¡±A pleasure killer¡±, Hailien began ¡°Someone who kills not because it¡¯s expected of them, but because they enjoy it.¡±


    ¡°That''s half of the people in Gutworth then¡±, Devon offered.


    ¡±No it¡¯s not,¡± for once emotion found its way into her voice, the last time she got like this was during their endless fight, when Devon had done a dueling faux paus so bad Hailien had to stop the fight and explain why what she did would have gotten her exiled from eight different cities.


    Tremble lined up in front of Kirst, she held out a hand to shake. He kept his hands to his side.


    ¡°A pleasure killer is someone who lets pleasure dictate their life entirely. Some people find joy in killing if they have a good reason, or if a death is particularly satisfying, thats fine. But pleasure killers are different. They¡¯re only motivated by the rush. They don¡¯t think of the consequences, they live in the moment to a unhealthy degree, weighing the immediate over the future because to them, it simply does not exist. A pleasure killer would crush his husband¡¯s skull if he found it more satisfying than kissing him on the cheek.¡±


    In Kirst¡¯s gaze was a complete and utter boredom, only roaring to life at moments when his hands twitched, as if exciting himself with the slaughter to come.


    And yet Tremble didn¡¯t seem to care. The matchup felt like a bad joke. He towered so high over her that three Trembles in a trenchcoat couldn¡¯t even cut his hair. Tremble was insane, but she wasn¡¯t stupid, she had to know this was bad news for her.


    ¡±Oh grand, she¡¯s fucked isn¡¯t she?¡± Dive asked.


    ¡±I don¡¯t know¡±, Hailien answered, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen her fight.¡± she gestured to Devon. ¡°What does Adam think? Does she have a chance?¡±


    The space in her brain reserved for Adam shuddered in a new pattern. ¡°There is something wholly and utterly wrong with her, her Remark signature is unlike anything I¡¯ve experienced. Through what that means for her strength, we¡¯ll only learn by watching.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t know cause she¡¯s fucked up¡±, Devon wiggled her fingers in front of her forehead, to signify fuckedupness.


    ¡°Fucked up as a pejorative or fucked up in a laudable fashion?¡± Plunge asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what either of those words mean.¡± Adam was buzzing to explain more but she urged him to calm down with a mental shush. The match was about to start. Kirst raised his arms and settled the crowd.


    ¡±Before we start. Let me please-¡° he unhooked his suspenders and unbuttoned his shirt. His voice surprised Devon, more subdued and measured than she expected. If it wasn¡¯t for the occasional twitch, which read like float rats trying to escape a sack, nothing about him would have seemed out of the ordinary.


    Underneath his shirt was a weighted vest that disappeared. It was his Remark, and he had just unsummoned it. His body expanded an extra few feet. Muscles unburdened, released and flexed, his pants bulged and tore at the calves. He was four Trembles tall now, and looked like an aberration. ¡°That¡¯s better¡­ It¡¯s hard to think¡­ when you¡¯re weighed down. My Remark helps strengthen me¡­ for my private joy.¡± He pointed a twitching finger at Tremble, ¡°do you consent¡­ to my private joy?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡±Sure! So do I start the match?¡± Tremble said. She had not summoned her Remark, or done anything to prepare herself. Was she trying to throw it?


    ¡±Yes¡± the giant Kirst cracked his neck, his neck muscles inflating like airbags, his knuckles followed. ¡°The first hit¡­ is yours.¡±


    ¡±Excellent.¡±


    What happened next was visually confusing. First the colors reversed.


    Everything Devon saw was now like a photo negative; reds appeared cyans, blues like yellows, the pale green of Tremble¡¯s flesh bright magenta, her all black smile now an empty white. The moment was a moment, that is true, but Devon could perceive it as if time flowed, able to look around and see the way her friends stood stock still, frozen like a loop image paused.


    Devon and Kirst¡¯s eyes locked. He stood as still as a prisoner but his eyes were watery and alive with fear. The space around him was outlined with a color that was texture, spikes that threatened to pierce his throat. The texture color contracted inward until it was pushing into his flesh. It did not seem pleasant, if he could have it is certain he would have screamed.


    Tremble attacked him with a casual flick of her hand. Time got back to work and there was once again causation, thank Grand. Though now things were a bit funny, a bit askew. For there was no way such a casual little flick should have obliterated Kirst where he stood. But it did.


    Like a sand castle being kicked by an especially petty bully, he crumbled, he was decimated, he ended up as a lump on the ground. He broke apart in ways bodies should not be able to break apart.


    He was dead. To everyone but Devon, all Tremble did was flick her wrist.


    The crowd went nuts. They were into it, oddly enough. Devon reasoned this whole thing was a spectacle, and that was what they valued above all else.


    ¡°We¡­ she did it. We¡¯re saved, by grand, we¡¯re saved!¡±, Dive rushed to hug Tremble but was stopped by Hailien¡¯s firm grip. Tremble was soaking up the praise like she breathed in, thanking the crowd and jumping up and down.


    ¡±Let¡¯s give her some space,¡± Hailien¡¯s metal jaw quivered, and she kept blinking rapidly, it was hard to trust your eyes. ¡°There¡¯s still two matches to go.¡±


    Devon was besides herself, had anyone else seen that? She turned to Adam, beside herself, ¡°did you feel that? Right before she attacked time stopped and there was, there was, uh, spikes, and colors were all different, and it was the same feeling as when she cried, remember that? Remember how the world itself seemed to be breaking?¡±


    He shook his head, which for him meant wiggling his sharp end, ¡°None of that happened for me, Devon.¡±


    That made her feel like shit. Adam was the one who could make sense of things like that, without him it felt like the experience had been wasted on her.


    ¡°I can see your memories, it did happen. I can¡¯t account for why I didn¡¯t see it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s weird right? Some sort of Trick?¡±, she took a seat, it sapped her energy just watching Tremble be happy. At this rate Tremble was gonna plow through the next two fighters, and most certainly challenge herself afterwards. The last thing that girl needed was an ego.


    ¡°You remember how Yucian talked about having a different power? She called it the Contrarian¡¯s Needle?¡±


    ¡°Tremble has the same thing right?¡± She looked up above, where clouds should have been, into a clinical rusted dome, with large floodlights that bathed the ship''s interior in artificial light that stung her eyes in ways the sky never did.


    Adam didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Okay, she definitely does. That explains a lot. Fuck, how did she get her hands on that.¡± It didn¡¯t scare her cause it was strong. What was strength, right? She had kicked the ass of a Constant wielding the same type of nastiness, strength meant nothing outside of bragging rights, what mattered was winning, and what scared her was she didn¡¯t know how to win against something like that.


    ¡±Huh. Sorry, I didn¡¯t expect you to figure that out on your own¡±, it clearly disappointed him that he wouldn¡¯t get to infodump.


    She blushed, she needed all the compliments in the world right now, even something as backhanded as that.


    ¡°Stop, this is impossible!¡±


    The crowd didn¡¯t quiet down, despite 139¡¯s command, the spectacle of Tremble outweighed her authority, thought Devon. That was an Adam thought, or normally would be. Pretty slick of her to have a thought like that, she should try having them more often.


    139 pleaded for sanity, waving her hands and jostling the corpse below her, ¡°Kirst has a body count in the thousands, he can kill with a stare! The victory from the Numbers should not have been possible, you¡¯re all¡­ you¡¯re guilty! You¡¯re guilty of cheating!¡± Her hand pointed accusedly at everyone, even the crowd and opposing team. No one was free from sin.


    A burly man wearing designer jorts and a chest harness made out of ties climbed down from the rafters and whispered into 139¡¯s ears. She nodded once, whispered something back, and then pushed him into the drink.


    ¡°I have just been informed that identity can be distinct from the self, I did not know this,¡± she calmed herself and folded her legs. ¡°Hmm, an elaborate imposter then. That wasn¡¯t the real Kirst, that explains it all. Neither I or my consumed souls have ever seen him fight before. A faker taking on the persona, one unworthy of digits¡±, 139 paused. The loop face on her sack repeated the same smile three times before she added, ¡°It also could be that his opponent danced with Death in the manner that raises armies. If so, no one could hope to beat her, and it was a mistake to allow her to compete. What was your last number, victor?¡±


    ¡±17¡±, Tremble said as she did a standing bicep stretch. The dastard had no right to look as cut as she did.


    ¡±Shockingly weak if that power was yours. Do you pay tribute at the altar of an alternate Idea?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But it¡¯s a secret¡±, Tremble said, smiling wildly. Her taught forearm veins pulsed and danced as she clenched and unclenched her black claws. Grand she was jealous.


    ¡±A person¡¯s self worth isn¡¯t defined by their physical strength or appearance, Devon.¡±, Adam said.


    ¡°That may be true, but like¡­ I¡¯d kill to have her workout routine.¡±


    ¡°Now, 17, to have you continue to fight, even if your opponent was a liability we are happy to forget, would be against the spirit of my sheer contempt for all of you.¡± 139 pointed a finger at Devon, ¡°You¡¯re the one named Adam, you were a terror in the pre-modern world. It was so long ago.¡±


    ¡±It was only four months.¡±


    ¡±In blood it has been centuries. NOW!¡± 139 balanced on her bone swing and held out a hand, offering it to the air. ¡°I have chosen you, Adam. Because all of your remaining options are trusted to kill in the way that satisfies, you have the burden of choice.¡±


    The future numbers walked to the center (roughly pushing Tremble out of the way) and stood in a line, like vendors hawking their wares.


    ¡±Which one will you give your Number to?¡±


    Devon was only 1, assuming she had even been put into the system, surely there were better reasons to kill her.


    Her options were laid out before her and none of them were appealing.


    To her left, a crooked man wrapped in bright yellow caution tape, he pounded a spike covered mallet greedily in his other hand.


    ¡°Remark Signature is¡­ fingernails being torn and salt being put in the wound.¡±


    Besides him was a woman as tall as Hailien, a brown purse over her left shoulder. Her black hair hung in two neat bangs on either side, framing her square face well. For some reason there was only smooth skin where her left eye should have been, everything else about her was so normal Devon didn¡¯t notice at first.


    ¡°Remark signature is an ouroboros (what?) it¡¯s an ouroboros (what¡¯s that?) it¡¯s a- its a wyrm eating it¡¯s own tail (why not just say that?)¡±


    And to the right was a nondescript guy holding a gun.


    ¡±Remark Signature is- wait, Devon, do you know what a gun is? (Yeah, of course. Do you not?) I very much do, I was just surprised to see one here, that''s all.¡±


    139 loomed over them, the loop image on her sack laughing at Devon and Devon alone.


    ¡°The choice is yours, Number. Which will it be?¡±

 Chapter 26: Anno Domini High Definition

    ¡°The choice is yours, Number. Which will it be?¡±


    ¡°The one in the middle missing an eye,¡± Devon had a good feeling about her.


    No, not a good feeling. It was more an absence of immediate doom. She sensed it on the gun guy, the mallet guy twice as much, the doom was practically dripping off him. Obviously she would have to fight one of them after this (and it would be her, no way she was letting someone else sub in) but by that time maybe, um, maybe-


    ¡°You can sense the power of their signatures, even without my help.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t speak, so she thought in the ways she would talk. The frustration of not knowing if she could beat Tremble in a fair fight, the way things had suddenly gotten far more complicated, the fact that she was built like a burden beast and still felt outmatched.


    ¡°I think you have an advantage,¡± Adam said to her, his vibrations like a warm cloth resting on her brain. ¡°You¡¯re Devon Near, and they don¡¯t know what you¡¯re capable of.¡±


    Her opponent approached, limbs close and smile vacant. Every time she blinked it seemed like she was winking (due to the absence¡­ you know, the absence on the left side). She opened her mouth to speak.


    ¡±My name is Chitany Proposal. I was born in Gutworth but I always wanted to travel travel travel! I never did so I wrote books about my adventures in towns and places that didn¡¯t exist. There was the sloping slat salt mines of Crimfth, the towering steeples of Nondophelia. None of it was real, all my imagination and from dreams I had, mostly dreams I had. But wouldn¡¯t you know it, not only were they popular, but some of those places became real! A man claiming to be from Crimfth accused me of starting a revolution through my book that had outed him, the vicar, and exiled him to my hometown. Can you believe it? A lowly girl responsible for an armed revolution in a city of my own creation? I realized I had power then, even as a Reserve. When the battle royale started I was more prepared than the others to convey power due to my independent success as a travel novelist, and my ability to create the towns and cities I see in my dreams by writing about them. I have not found a applicable use for this ability in combat but perhaps someday. Now you know who I am, and now you will die.¡±


    Devon looked up. Chitany¡¯s lip had moved but no sound had come out. Instead the words she must have said hung above her, a giant wall of text, each word bright yellow and glistening. The words shook and fell letter by letter, it was hailing sentences.


    Periods and question marks covered the ship like sand while the larger words tore through the ship. It still didn¡¯t sink, Devon assumed Yucian¡¯s still thinking corpse was inadverdantly serving as the ships bottom.


    The word ¡°Nondophelia¡± crashed down at Devons feet, she backpedaled just as Chitany slashed with the word ¡°creation¡±, which had been shaped into a sword she held by the ¡°c¡±.


    The water lapped at the sides of the boat and Devon pivoted to offense. She went for a downward slash meant to cut Chitany in half.


    ¡°Stop,¡± the word appeared in front of Chitany as a shield. Devon cursed, she had put effort into the swing and couldn¡¯t right herself, but Adam could.


    He leaped from her hand like a float rat and skimmed Chitany¡¯s cheek.


    ¡±Unacceptable,¡± Chitany dropped her previous word and split this one in half. Devon got in a quick headbutt before Chitany pushed her away with an uppercut, the capitalized U packed quite a punch. She hit the deck hard, landing on the spiky ¡°t¡± of travel. It hurt.


    ¡±Have you read any of my book¡¯s Devon?¡± The sentence was lobbed like a cannon shot. Devon hurdled over it and broke into a run.


    ¡±I¡¯ve never been one for reading,¡± she replied. Books were a luxury even those with power did not care for. She only knew how to read thanks to her dad. Orbits were said to have text on them if you looked closely enough, he had taught her that. The little round balls were made of tree pulp. Her dad remembered them being far bigger.


    She parried an ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that¡±, tussled and won against an ¡°It¡¯s your loss,¡± that fell out of her mouth and slammed down on Devon like a sledgehammer.


    Looking up from the word wreckage she was almost stabbed by a ¡°My work is not for everyone,¡± dodging it at the last possible moment.


    Enough of this. She kneed Chitany in the stomach, a new word literally dying in her throat. Despite the girl''s enthusiasm she didn¡¯t match Devon¡¯s conditioning. Hailien had hit her in the gut like that hundreds of times, for the one eyed girl, this was certainly the first.


    ¡±Oh,¡± She placed a foot on the girls back, ¡°you¡¯ve never been in a fight before, have you?¡± She heaved Adam up, ready to split her skull.


    And Chitany twisted her neck and word vomited.


    ¡±Actually I have, hundreds of times in my writings,¡± poured out, hitting Devon in the gut in turn. ¡°There¡¯s passages that have been cut out and pasted as a form of propagation, or at least that¡¯s how it was explained to me. People cut stuff out of my books all the time cause they want it to spread and grow and grow and.¡±


    She jumped off that last ¡°and¡± just as the torpedo shell of words careened off the boat and into the sea. Chitany was suddenly absent, and it wasn¡¯t like Devon could hear her. For it was not just her voice that was silent, but also her movement.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand what it means to be a writer,¡± was cut in half before it could push her off the boat.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t care less,¡± Devon shouted. To her, there was no less useful or interesting of a profession than being a writer.


    She jumped back to dodge a heavy ¡°writing influences every practice,¡± lobbed from above. Chitany sat on the broken mast, the yellow of the next word forming between her lips.


    ¡°Lighter.¡±


    ¡±how light? Please be specific.¡±


    ¡°A quarter normal gravity,¡± she ran up the mast so fast she didn¡¯t have to worry about climbing it. She shoved Adam at Chitany¡¯s chest, a waterfall of negatives in response. ¡°No, nope, no sirree, not gonna happen,¡± they became a self fulfilling prophecy. She jerked her hand back, liable for it to be crushed by the words as they fell.


    The sentence ¡°A writer must live and understand every possible life,¡± almost took off her arm. Devon jostled for position on the small tip of the mast, trying to keep both her footing on the pole and her grip on Chitany. ¡°I must know the plight of the common man as well as my own,¡± shot out with a wink and she lost her grip, ¡°I need to express the responsibility that befalls a king,¡± jutted out like a punch and she lost her grip.


    She fell on the Eggshell. The chitin below her cracked but didn¡¯t give way.


    ¡±I was already on the level of Death, for I could shape the world and decide who lives and dies. Each word I write is heard by the world and they shift in a way that makes me smile and makes me laugh, they invent people just so those people can tell me how good I am. I mean me, I¡¯m the one doing it, I control everything. You add an L and word becomes world. Is that a coincidence? Of course not. I am the greatest fighter because I have written the greatest fighter. I am the greatest poet because I wrote that they were, it doesn¡¯t matter if none of those poems were put to paper, they still belong to me!¡±


    She kept going on and on, her never ending rant becoming a sort of word tornado that encircled the ship and lifted her up in the air. Her arms were outstretched, her neck bent up to the floodlights. It was the type of pose Devon imagined a god would take.


    ¡°The tongue Devon, aim for her tongue!¡±


    She noticed it then, the strange golden glow in her throat, separate from the words. The reason she couldn¡¯t speak, it was her Grand-damned remark! She wasn¡¯t a god, just an overzealous duelist who had bit off more than she could chew.


    Devon threw Adam straight at Chitany¡¯s wide open mouth. The wordnado was getting larger and larger, scraping the walls and colliding with the crowd.


    ¡±Even you, weird girl! Even you were written or dreamed first. I remember writing about meeting an ugly smelly idiot in Gutworth. My, that was you. My creations can disappoint me. You know, I bet our god was a-¡°


    Adam went straight through her Remark of a tongue (automatically desummoned) and out through the back of her skull. (flesh demolished) The words disappeared all at once and she fell to the deck at an angle that would have killed her, if she wasn¡¯t dead already.


    ¡°Excellent work, Adam!¡± 139 cooed, ¡°You have made your inevitable failure all the more exciting.¡±


    ¡±That leaves just one more. How are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, not bad.¡± For her first real Duel since training, it wasn¡¯t that tough. Sure, Chitany had been quite flashy, and there was a good ten seconds or so where she was certain she was gonna die, but altogether nothing to complain about. She was good at killing now. Why wouldn¡¯t she be?


    Chitany¡¯s handbag around her shoulder flopped open, a pile of paper scattered in the breeze.


    She picked up a paper at random. On it were dozens of lines of unintelligible scribbles. It was no language she had ever seen, and the penmanship was sloppy.


    ¡±Everything she said about being a writer is a lie,¡± the man with the gun said. ¡°She didn¡¯t even know how to read, let alone write.¡±


    Thanks,¡± she kicked her body for good measure, soaking up the crowds reaction. ¡°Would you like to go next?¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡±If you¡¯re offering, sure,¡± he had a firm handshake, strong grip. ¡°Eric Just.¡±


    ¡±Devon Near,¡± it was hard not to focus on his gun, so blocky, a strong whisp of smoke always coming out, like it had only now been fired. His doom felt deceptive.


    ¡°His signature is that of a rigged deck. Five aces in his hand. Is the man with the mallet still available?¡±


    ¡°I wanna fight Eric, I don¡¯t wanna fight the mallet guy.¡±


    ¡±You¡¯re right not to, Peyton doesn¡¯t play fair.¡±


    ¡°Then my next opponent will be this guy!¡± She presented Eric to the audience like she was a magician and this was her trick.


    Peyton, to his credit, took the rejection easy. He shrugged and then jumped off the ship.


    Eric leaned in, whispering in her ear, ¡°between you and me, you¡¯re the only one here with any value.¡±


    ¡±Oh?¡± She brushed her hair out of her face, suddenly self conscious. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to pick me up, I don¡¯t really swing that way.¡±


    ¡±Neither do I. I¡¯m truthful to a fault. You and the weird one killed my friends, but it¡¯s okay, cause they didn¡¯t have any value, you know. They weren¡¯t additive.¡±


    ¡±I feel like you¡¯re building to a point and I don¡¯t really care, can we start?¡± Adam shimmered in agreement.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Eric raised his gun and fired point blank.


    The bullet was blocked by Adam. It hit it hard like a piece of mucus, splatting on his scarred surface. The bullet detached with an audible plop and zipped back into the gun. Not a bullet, not a real one.


    ¡±Oh,¡± Devon said.


    Eric fired again. It hit her shoulder in the same way it had hit Adam, not piercing in the way bullets should, just sticking there. Then there was a weird feeling, like something vital had been taken, and the bullet detached and was back in it¡¯s little house of the gun.


    Eric had a smug expression and was smiling, arms folded like he had already won. She¡¯d wipe that smile off quick with a right hook.


    But for some reason her body didn¡¯t cooperate. She fell to the ground, her swing hit the floor and it hurt.


    ¡±Vestibular sense,¡± Eric said casually.


    ¡±Sense of balance,¡± Adam explained, picking up the physical slack for Devon by peppering Eric with blows. ¡°Can you get up?¡±


    ¡°Yeah abso-¡° a swift kick in the face, it felt like her head spun 360 degrees and the whole world rotated. She no longer knew what was up and what was down, was she not standing up now?


    He fired again.


    Adam punctured her left hand, allowing him to push her across the floor like a wet rag. Her hand hurt like hell and her back was now pockmarked in scabs and carapace splinters, but Eric had missed. The bullet, blue and jelly like, flattened on the floor.


    Then it grew legs and scampered eagerly towards Devon.


    ¡±Crawl shitttt!,¡± with a roar she kicked Eric back and fished around for Adam as the bullet jumped up and touched her forehead.


    The salty taste in her mouth vanished, there was an absence of sensation. Like the first time he had hit, but not as profound.


    ¡±Gustation,¡± the scampering bullet crawled back into his gun as Eric licked his lips.


    ¡°Your taste¡­ oh no.¡±


    Fuck, fuck fuck. She had put two and two together right along with Adam. She started screaming without realizing it. Eric tried to punch her but she still had enough of her senses to catch him mid swing and break a few of his bones, she heard the telltale crunch loud and clear. His response was a pistol whip and another kick she couldn¡¯t dodge. She tried to get up but gravity had other plans. Wait. Gravity.


    ¡±Make me lighter, same weight as before!¡± And Adam did.


    With the slightest intention she flew off the ground and into Eric¡¯s chest. Still dizzy as a top it took all her effort to wrap her arms around his shoulders and hold on for dear life. From the corner of her vision she saw Eric smirk, ¡°Well this is a surprise.¡± He patted her back, taking to this too well, ¡°Forfeiting already?¡±


    ¡±Heavier!¡±


    Her weight quadrupled and like a stone Eric sank. They crashed through the carapace, landing hard on what was once Yucian and now the bottom of the Eggshell. Eric took most of the fall, he coughed blood and Devon kneed him in the face again and again and again and-


    ¡±Devon, watch out¡±


    Gun to her temple. Eric pulled the trigger.


    She couldn¡¯t see anything.


    ¡°Visual stimuli¡±


    The soft breeze of Adam as he cut by her.


    ¡±Move away Devon, I¡¯ll try to disable his Remark!¡±


    She crabwalked away but a firm hand stopped her. A wet laugh that reminded her of Tread. He¡¯d have that sort of laugh whenever she asked him about overdue paychecks.


    ¡±You have¡­ no value,¡± he said.


    She heard the sound of the bullet firing. She didn¡¯t hear it hit.


    She couldn¡¯t hear anything now. Her only sensation was the chalky roughness of the floor on her hands and all possible flora and fauna of pain, flourishing in her body like a model environment.


    She summoned Adam to herself with a thought and slashed out at nothing. She hit something fleshy and she moved forward till the flesh was on her mouth and she bit down hard. It could have been his hand or his face it did not matter. She had nothing but feeling, she had nothing but hatred. She could feel something even fleshier and more tender and she dug in on instinct, she would not stop until her sight returned, she wouldn¡¯t stop cutting till she could hear Eric scream.


    The steel of the gun was cold on her forehead. She didn¡¯t feel anything anymore.


    And with all her senses cut off from the world, she could finally see what had always been there, right in front of her.


    ¡­


    Eric Just stared at the girl. In the bowels of this strange ship she kneeled in a beam of artificial light. She was done, she was dead, practically. She looked peaceful this way, rather improved. Figures gathered around the hole she had made, their shadows encircling her. He had already forgotten her name.


    Her Remark aimed for his throat. Good for it to assert itself, it was what was important after all. Strange for it to still be summoned, shouldn¡¯t have been possible. He caught it in his hand and let it tear at his flesh. He couldn¡¯t feel any of it. Didn¡¯t stop it from being Grand annoying.


    ¡±You¡¯re Adam right?¡± He opened his hand, the tip of the Adam Remark turned upward, as if to look at him. Wild thing, this. ¡°Can you hear me?¡±


    Adam dove into his eye, drilling out blood and bits that only stopped when Eric reached into the wound and threw him across the hull. He only had half his vision now, he guessed this was permanent. Grand, what a hassle. If only Chitany was still alive, they¡¯d be a pair.


    ¡±The killer of a Constant. They said it was a girl but I didn¡¯t believe them, I thought Adam still lived. He¡¯s my idol personally. When I heard how easily he killed 41, how he carved through a half dozen Numbers in a day? That¡¯s when I knew he had value. Real value.


    He wish they hadn¡¯t taught him Carbunkle. He was addicted now, loving the way it felt to win a hand. It was a five person game, those bastards, where was he supposed to find replacements now?


    ¡°And you¡¯re his Remark, to me that¡¯s just as good. And now you¡¯ve lost another user,¡± it wasn¡¯t like him to kill, the elements or others did that for him, but it was his only option now. Who knew, he might come to like it. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to take over.¡±


    The Remark skulked back, hovering in front of the comatose body of the girl. Her eyes were wide open, pupils oscillating. Slowly it nestled itself into her outstretched hand.


    ¡°That¡¯s touching,¡± Eric didn¡¯t mean it, he offered a hand, ¡°you¡¯re gonna like my grip better. It¡¯s firmer.¡±


    The girl¡¯s eyes suddenly grayed. The limp hand on the Remark suddenly flexed fingers and squeezed. This shouldn¡¯t have been possible, she was a prisoner in her own body.


    She got up.


    Her eyes weren¡¯t gray, they were golden and covered in scratches.


    She moved strange, like she had to operate each limb manually. He fired, couldn¡¯t hurt.


    She did an over exaggerated dodge, her spine cracking as she bent back and then flipped forward.


    ¡°Fuck, fuck!¡± he threw his gun and tried to rush her.


    He ran right into a punch, her speed was inhuman. This couldn¡¯t be happening. He called back his Remark and fired as he hit the far end of the hull.


    She caught it as it raced towards him. Even though the Remark should have hurt her in the truest sense, she squished it between two fingers until nothing was left.


    ¡­


    All of her senses came back at once, whatever she was in before, what she had saw, was forgotten due to the singular rush of experience that was comprehending reality. It was like being woken from a bad dream by being hit with a crawl cow hammer.


    Eric was pinned at the back of the hull. His cool shades were askew, genuine terror in his eyes. She realized that Adam had been working in her absence. How nice of him.


    ¡±Thanks!¡± She reached out to the cringing Eric and pushed her fingers into his face.


    ¡±Lighter. 1/8th.¡±


    She threw Eric 30 feet up in the air, clearing the hole easily as his scream dissapeared admist the crowd¡¯s cheering. She jumped after him. A 15 foot jump was simple when you weighed one eighth the normal gravity. She was in position under his shadow, his body on target to fall right on top of her.


    ¡°Heavier¡±


    When she hit him, she hit him with the strength of 500 pounds, a force like an out of control mechanical going 70 miles an hour. An impact so powerful the floodlights cracked.


    He hit the crowd so fast there was no time to evacuate. His head was flattened by the concrete wall, the rest of his body burst into the hole directly below like an artillery shell, killing two and injuring several. The crowd scattered like they expected him to blow, some jumping off and diving into the water. When it became clear a corpse wasn¡¯t prone to exploding, even one punched so hard it now had it¡¯s own body count, 139 spoke.


    ¡±I must admit, impressive. A victory for the Numbers.¡±


    The crowd was a strange mixture of cheers and boos. Some remembering that those were their crewmates she had killed, others just satisfied by her more than adequate bloodshed.


    She would have taken the moment to rest, relax, celebrate with the others, but she couldn¡¯t.


    For she remembered what she saw when all her senses shut off.


    She was in her own skull, and lining the walls of her head were two giant eyes, staring straight into her brain. Watching every thought she had. It should not have been there, it was not good, it was not pure, and it was inside her.


    ¡°Devon,¡± Adam asked, ¡°is something wrong?¡±

 Chapter 27: The World Rose Up To Greet Her

    Dive led the charge to embrace her. She swatted him away when he tried to pick her up, not that he would have succeeded. If you think about it, she saved him the embarrassment. The others came up slowly, not wanting the same treatment.


    ¡±That was incredible! I don¡¯t even know how you did half of that stuff!¡± Trip said.


    Everything was pitch black.


    ¡±Are you using any, I think they call them, performance enhancing drugs?¡± Plunge leaned in conspiratorially, ¡°Can I have some?¡±


    They had appeared slowly, two ovals, somehow darker than the black that surrounded them


    Hailien offered a surprisingly gentle pat on the back, ¡°that saved us all a lot of grief, thank you.¡±


    The black brightened until it was a cold white


    The pupils appeared like twin holes in the earth


    They blinked


    Tremble took her hand, ¡°Oh, Devon, as if there was any more evidence needed that we are a pair among pairs!¡±


    Snapped out of the memory, she folded Tremble''s fingers back farther than they could curl and kicked her upside the head.


    ¡°Oh! Well, you know best,¡± Tremble said, bleeding profusely from the head wound. She arched her back, got on all fours like an animal and crawled way too slowly out of view.


    ¡°Devon, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    The others had noticed it too. What was just the start of the festivities would be the climax. They all gave her weird looks as their pats on the back slowed down and their kudos got shorter and less specific. She didn¡¯t need them now, she had to think.


    139 said something about winners never knowing what to do with their victories but Devon didn¡¯t hear the specifics. She hopped into the hole and hit the ground with a perfect three point landing, exhaling on impact. Everything was muffled here, not just sound but feeling.


    ¡±Your heart rate is accelerating and decelerating with my voice. Right now it just spiked.¡±


    ¡°I should just ask you point blank then,¡± she didn¡¯t give him a chance to reply before saying, ¡°what are you. Like, really?¡±


    ¡±¡­ I¡¯m a Remark who can take on his own duelists?,¡± he had never sounded this hesitant.


    ¡°Yeah. That made sense to me at first,¡± she tore off a part of Yucian, her calcified structure had gotten considerably more spongy. She flicked a spiral of it into a bullet hole leaking light, ¡±and you know, that¡¯s probably what you are, but I think¡­ I think¡­ I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t know.¡°


    ¡°What did you see when your senses were taken?¡±


    ¡°Can you not see it?¡±


    A pause.


    ¡°I can, but I¡¯m not sure how literal I¡¯m supposed to take it.¡±


    That was something, he wasn¡¯t dodging the question at least.


    ¡°As literal as a kick to the head,¡± she threw her hands back, Adam moved out of the way, ¡°there are eyes in my skull, and they weren¡¯t kind eyes.¡±


    Hovering, he got lower and lower until he was only an inch off the ground.


    ¡±You¡¯re insinuating that that¡¯s me.¡±


    She had every answer planned outside of the one where he stated plainly what was happening. Struggling to find something for her hands to do, she put them in her pockets and turned away from Adam. He floated up and followed her as her head turned, ¡°I don¡¯t know what it truly was but that isn¡¯t me. I¡¯m not hurting you.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t know for sure,¡± she noticed the way her inner temperature was being reduced, the way the bruises and superficial cuts were healing without any input from her. With a sudden urgency she rolled down her sleeves and found a gash that Chitany had caused. It was closing slowly, and would heal within minutes.


    She jammed two fingers in the wound and pressed down hard.


    ¡±DEVON!¡±


    ¡°Promise me you won¡¯t heal this one.¡±


    The pain pulsed like a constant cough. Devon could feel Adam trying his hardest to null it but she just pressed down harder, ¡°you won¡¯t take this from me, give me this.¡±


    The dullness of his anesthesia faded, letting the pain take center stage. He hovered in front of her, strangely close to her eyes. If she had suddenly thrust her head forward he would have broken through her cornea. Then he could have seen it too.


    ¡°There¡¯s a scar, well, two scars. One above your eye and one below it,¡± he tilted so light could reflect and she could see her own face, ¡°both vertical, the way they match up is interesting, I think it suits you.¡±


    He was right, it was like a line had been cut down her left eye. It wasn¡¯t deep enough to be bleeding, it almost looked like a tattoo.


    ¡±I was going to heal this one as well, but I think it¡¯s a far better candidate for a permanent scar than that gash.¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Sure,¡± she liked the way it traced down to her cheek, the history it conveyed.


    ¡°Hey!¡± It was Dive, yelling from the hole, ¡°can you come back up here, I think she¡¯s gonna let us go.¡±


    Devon got up there faster than Dive expected. With a single jump she was back on the deck. She knew this because he told her, going on and on about how cool she was and what an honor it was to fight alongside her (not that he had done any of the fighting.)


    But she wasn¡¯t concerned about that.


    139 was on deck.


    Face to face it was clear there was something wrong with her. Grimy toes wiggled under her bulging shopping bag of a body. Arms paler than dead earth stretched out to each side of the ship, almost spanning it. Her looping smile was faster, like it had somehow been sped up. Devon swore she could see teeth pressing up against the sack hood.


    ¡±Her Signature is a mountain of knives that beckons us to climb it.¡±


    ¡°Friends who I thought were enemies, rejoice! You all know the steps. Death herself has declared your purpose is to perpetuate!¡± The drunken crowd yelled and rocked. Two of them held up Eric¡¯s torso and waved it around like a sign.


    ¡°We¡¯re going now,¡± Hailien said, ¡°you¡¯re gonna open your ship and we¡¯ll never see you again.¡±


    ¡±Sure, we¡¯ll open it, for Devon and 17.¡±


    Devon felt her stomach drop, she gripped Adam. The crowd roared on command, like they had been expecting this.


    ¡°Our team won, that was the deal. We¡¯re leaving,¡± Hailien kept her temper, but Devon recognized the way her left pointer finger twitched. It always presaged a deathblow.


    139 leaned in and stood on her tiptoes, her masked face pressing into Hailien¡¯s forehead, ¡°Devon and 17 won, they go free,¡± her hand rose up, fingers waggling, ¡°that''s¡­ the deal.¡±


    The swoosh of metal. Hailien hoisted her Remark up straight at 139¡¯s looping expression.


    139 ducked it and careened forward like a drunk given a free round, holding something behind her back and laughing, laughing, laughing.


    Devon dodged out of the way as Hailien¡¯s Remark flew through the air. It was trying to catch 139 but the duelist¡¯s wild movements were impossible to track. She wasn¡¯t even attacking them, she was dodging and swirling around them.


    Hitting the ground, she looked up to see the dashing figure of 139 engulfed by light.


    ¡±They turned up the floodlights!¡±


    There were yells and sounds of confusion from the other. 139 tried her best to drown them out with her own laughter (and did a Grand of a job) but jokes on her because that''s how Devon found her.


    She had Collapse pinned to the side of the boat. There was a massive pair of Scissors in one hand, in the other was nothing but gnarled too sharp nails.


    The nail hand raked through Collapse''s arms. Devon¡¯s vision was still adjusting to the brightness, she couldn¡¯t tell where anyone else was.


    Without being asked Adam shot out and scraped across 139¡¯s side, tearing open her sack hood and knocking off her half mask.


    Her face was obscured, back still turned, but Collapse saw her face, and she screamed silently.


    ¡±Something the matter?¡± 139 turned slowly, the looping smile was gone, replaced by moldy gums and teeth too large for her mouth.


    Devon went for a kick straight to the teeth.


    139 caught it in her open mouth.


    ¡±Fuck, fuck!!¡± Devon fumbled for Adam as she felt a massive tongue wrap around her foot. It was sharp, it felt like a thousand needles. The one small comfort was that Collapse was able to escape in the chaos. Those dull loop eyes stared up at Devon, the head turned, she felt like a toy caught by a crywolf who didn¡¯t know what to do now that it had her. Through her grimace, she kept laughing.


    ¡±What the fuck are you?¡± Devon screamed.


    139 opened her mouth to reply


    And that was when Devon slipped out of her grip and thrusted Adam through the roof of her mouth.


    More of her hood was torn, the black and white color of the image shifted to a faint red. Yet 139 was not finished. With shocking strength she gripped Adam in her hand and pulled him out. There was a crunch.


    Devon was leveled by a great tearing in her brain, it was the pain Adam felt, pain she realized he hadn¡¯t felt in years, centuries maybe. He wasn¡¯t dead, that was clear if for no other reason than the sheer intensity of his screams, but she couldn¡¯t talk to him, couldn¡¯t strategize.


    She could barely think.


    139 walked up to her, Adam being held like a spent bottle. Behind her, movement.


    ¡°You and the other have already been granted freedom, there¡¯s no reason to-¡°


    139 tossed Adam off the deck, she turned quick and blocked with her scissors a blow from Hailien. Holding Hailien¡¯s steel back, she snapped her scissors shut, and a geyser of blood gushed out of Hailien¡¯s chest, the type of wounds the scissors would have made.


    The creature (Devon couldn¡¯t see her as human anymore) pushed Hailien aside and walked back to Devon. Hailien was on the ground. Adam had gone silent. The others were-


    A jittery hand grazed Devon¡¯s hair, and then grabbed it.


    ¡±It¡¯s time for us to get even. You get two, I get two.¡±


    It was Tremble, behind her Dive, Plunge, and Trip, all with their Remarks. The trio shared looks, not anywhere near as confident as Tremble.


    ¡°AH. Now here¡¯s one who understands courtesy, come come, let us feast on existence,¡± 139 held out her Remark to Tremble, it was jagged and bleeding.


    Tremble stepped forward on command, in a straight line to 139. The three followed, bunched up and moving at the side of the ship. Devon went to get up but her foot screamed bloody murder.


    Shit, she looked down and tried her best to assess the damage.


    And then the world froze, and Devon was fucking happy she happened to be turned away. She didn¡¯t want to see Tremble do it again.


    Time came back, 139 seemed to deflate. What remained of her fell to the ground flat, faintly smoking.


    ¡°Crawl shit you did it again!¡± Dive rushed to her, his arms outstretched for a hug. Tremble looked unsure but opened her arms as well. He jumped to her waist and they spun around for a bit, laughing and whooping, the crowd joining in.


    Devon ignored this, she crawled over to the edge of the Eggshell, where Adam was thrown.


    ¡±Are you using any drugs? Perhaps of the performance enhancing variety?¡± Plunge asked.


    It was hard to resist the urge to jump off.


    She held out her hand over the edge, she thought she saw the glint of something bright in the water.


    ¡°I want to say¡­ I owe you an apology.¡±


    Hailien¡¯s voice made her turn.


    Sure enough there she was, congratulating Tremble with all the others. It was a surreal sight, especially just how awkward Tremble looked, like approval was something she never thought she¡¯d actually get.


    Adam slipped into her hand, she heard his voice again.


    ¡±Oh thank Grand, she¡¯s dead. Who killed her?¡±


    She thought for a second, realized there was only one answer.


    ¡±I did.¡±


    If Adam knew she was lying, he didn¡¯t say it.

 Chapter 28: An End To Bloodshed.

    Crowds are motivated by spectacles of violence.


    Never is this more true than in an environment primed for death. Their initial reaction to the extraordinary demise of 139 was to cheer and bray for more along those lines. The revelation then that the death they cheered was their leader¡¯s was a minor one, spurned by the lack of any loud authoritative voice to tell them what would happen next.


    Begrudgingly, something had to be done.


    They whispered to their neighbors, ¡°Do you have a Number? Have you killed a Number?¡± It was in hushed whispers, one on one confessions, the first real conversations most of them had had in weeks. Their recent life had been killing or watching the act, a major benefit is you do not need to talk to do either well.


    Most of them hadn¡¯t, you could always tell the liars by the way they would answer quickly and then try and challenge the one asking. This engineered several duels that thinned the ranks and made the line of succession easier to follow. This clan was one of convenience, only kept stable by the innate comfort of numbers (the lowercase kind, they killed the uppercase)


    Finally one came forward with the name of 53. She had killed three, and she found joy in how little outside of that she could share about herself. Stepping out from her small hole, cohabitated by five others who only now looked at her with respect, she took a deep breath, ready to dive in and take her destiny.


    But destiny must be manifested, it is clear to those with vision. 53 was upstaged by 22.5 (where the decimal came from no one would ever know). He was one who had manifested destiny, his Remark was a flag in orange, black, and green. He called it Spangled, and it was not the colors of Gutworth but the colors of the world. And if they weren¡¯t he would make it so. Spangled went pole first through her head (the back of it) and it crashed out with fanfare on the other end. Out of the gaping wound came a pyrotechnic show of fireworks and lighting that got the crowd''s attention. He had in his mind vague concepts of leadership, and he knew with every kill those concepts would become clearer. The torn clothes he wore shifted noisily into a suit, more fitting for the role he had inherited.


    ¡°I have authority,¡± and he walked forward, a white staircase manifesting in front of him.


    ¡­


    Devon didn¡¯t fully understand what was happening, but she saw that freak spear someone in the head and walk down a staircase floating in the sky, and it became clear to her things wouldn¡¯t be getting any better, ¡°I think we should go now.¡±


    ¡±I¡¯m trying to find a way to open up the front of this mechanism,¡± Devon caught Adam before he could fly out of sight.


    ¡±Wait, wait! I have a plan,¡± she motioned for Collapse, the others were busy trying to fight flag guy long range or keep anyone scaling the ship off.


    Collapse signed something.


    ¡±She just said let''s hear it,¡± Trip yelled, stabbing a laughing duelist as they jostled on the railing, trying to get over.


    ¡°Okay, okay, um,¡± every second more and more of the crowd was diving in, they¡¯d sink the boat before they could escape. Another jumped over and started summoning something nasty, but was cut off midway by a cut midway, courtesy of Hailien. ¡°Your Remark controls luck right?¡±


    ¡±It can create a positive effect of my choice immediately followed by a negative choice of equal value,¡± Trip translated. A soaking wet duelist flopped to the ground and produced a chair. To sit in, one would reckon. Dive tackled them before they could.


    ¡±That sounds good,¡± she shoved Adam into Collapse¡¯s hand. The girl looked down with confusion, as if this wasn¡¯t what they had just agreed to.


    ¡°Devon, communication is gonna be impossible between us.¡±


    ¡°No time!¡± A lanky duelist encased in a clump of spikes rushed them. Devon tripped the top heavy psycho and he fell straight through the eggshell. She saw Adam¡¯s tiny scratch of a body zoom up a hatch far above, Collapse hanging on for dear life.


    In the walls came aberrations, summoned by the man with a wave of his flag. Perhaps they had been lurking in the ship, perhaps they had been unknowingly collected along with the Eggshell.


    A big something with too many hands climbed out from the water. It jumped and landed with a wet thud on the Eggshell. Another with dozens of eyes pressed up against a translucent stomach peeled open a part of the wall and got out slowly, testing the open air the way one tests out the temperature of a bath, through its arrival on the ship was just as clumsy, it¡¯s massive frame rocking the boat to the left and utterly destroying the railing on that side.


    ¡°One of these will be our guiding light,¡± the man with the flag said. A third monster, a tiny head encased in a fleshy mound of blisters, slithered out, ¡°A strong nation needs an animal.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck is his Remark?,¡± Stumble asked. Devon was shocked to see her conscious and seemingly lucid.


    ¡°No idea, but I bet he won¡¯t take another step,¡± Trip said, tangling with the many handed aberration.


    ¡°Easy words for those who want everything handed to them,¡± he took a step forward with a wink, ¡°but I am someone who seeks opportunities and goes out and takes-¡°


    He froze, the condition of Trip¡¯s Remark met. This hadn¡¯t stopped the monsters he summoned, they had already killed the few pirate duelists who remained on the ship and the others had jumped or fell dead to the Yucian floor below.


    ¡°Focus on the Terror 3!¡± Hailien snapped her fingers and threw her Remark at the many handed one. Its limbs came off like grass to a weed whacker.


    Devon moved to help, but the now lucid Stumble blocked her way. She was strangely relaxed, and had her arms folded, no Remark in sight, ¡°that¡¯s a Terror level 2¡±, she pointed to port side, at the one with eyes in its stomach that Dive and Trip were dealing with. ¡°That''s a Terror level 3¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± she left Stumble in as disrespectful a way as she could, throwing a hand back and grinding up chips of chitin from the deck.


    ¡°Adam, how¡¯s it going, did you find a control room?¡± She called out. There was enough of a fracas that no one noticed or cared that she was shouting at no one. The head of the third rolled by in time with Devon¡¯s stride before veering off course and falling off the eggshell.


    ¡±We did. She¡¯s rolled the dice several times now, all low rolls, which I take to be bad, because nothing noticeably bad has happened to us. Therefore, nothing good either.¡±


    She had to groan. Out came a lazy swing from the Terror 3, she jumped over it and landed without interrupting her dash towards it. She was dangerously close to its belly now and still unarmed. The dozens of eyes in its stomach all stared back at her. It was hard not to dwell on how familiar that gaze felt.


    ¡°Come back, right now!¡±


    ¡°I need to bring Collapse back, Devon, I can¡¯t just leave her here.¡±


    ¡°You can, actually,¡± she said, ¡°just for a moment¡­¡±


    She got into her go-to stance and let out a slow left jab, her right guarding her face, her left leg moving with the corresponding arm, slowly shifting her body to the right. It came off like a misguided moment of bravado. The Terror 3 only offered her a glance, too concerned with the ones who actually seemed like a threat.


    ¡±Wait, what are you doing?¡±


    Her left arm grazed the stomach, the eyes bumping against the membrane and trying to engulf it. She opened her fist and angled it to the right.


    Adam came the long way to guarantee the trajectory. He popped into Devon¡¯s waiting hand and his sharp side pierced the belly. The eyes retreated but tough shit. She ripped and tore through the gut, ripped and tore real good. A massive gash in its stomach, made as if it was a curtain. The eyes came out in an avalanche of embryonic fluid. Somehow Devon knew it was embryonic fluid, she got that from Adam, she wished she hadn¡¯t. She held her breath and moved away, the fluid was thick enough that it caved in the parts of the floor where it piled up. Adam slipped out and went back the way he came.


    They were passing the holes in the wall, soon to be met with the ceiling and with no room left to breathe. The walls shook and stucco fell from the ceiling in crumbles. The part immediately above them cracked like ice.


    ¡±We got a seven, anything changed on your end?¡±


    With a screech the metal gates of the ship¡¯s front lowered, revealing a wall of blinding light that slowly shifted to blue.


    ¡±Oh fuck it worked! Come back here now!¡¯


    What remained of the eggshell wouldn¡¯t survive the journey. She pointed down to the Yucian floor and jumped. She heard the thuds and groans of the others as they followed.


    Something tight wrapped around her and she tried to tear at it.


    ¡±No, don''t!¡± Dive waved his fishing pole Remark, which he planted into Yucian. One of several of his lines were tied around Devon, the other lines were taught against the wrists of the Fall Collective. Everyone was accounted for, except for Tremble.


    Fuck her.


    The waves lashed violently as the last parts of the eggshell fell away, the slab of Yucian served shockingly well as a raft and slid down the water to the gate that was getting larger and larger, they could see the Helot poking out.


    Adam crashed out of the waves with Collapse holding on. Trip caught her just as the waves tipped up and the Yucian raft plummeted down into the yawning sky.


    ¡­


    The damned crustacean ship was a marvel of engineering, even on fire its massive metal claws continued to twitch and lash out while its search beam eyes pierced the heavens. Stumble didn¡¯t know much about mechanicals or how they worked, but she knew what made her eyes dazzle.


    Today, that was literal. The string in her eye wiggled and glowed, its hue shifting as it coiled and writhed around her cornea, reflected against the greens and reds of the burning mechanical. It was kind of like the floaters she had gotten from the Legacy, but those had gone bad, just like the Legacy.


    ¡°The Legacy is a bloated corpse so putrid even the bloatflies won¡¯t eat it,¡± the string said, ¡°now is the time of the wyrm.¡±


    She giggled, and clutched the large barrel full of watches tighter. There was something in the barrel String needed, but he wouldn¡¯t say what.


    ¡±You say something?¡± Trip shot her an accusing look. He had been onto her since the beginning, didn¡¯t know when to keep his mouth shut or his eyes closed. The string in her eye tried to remain as still as it could, a wandering pupil would attract suspicion.


    ¡±Oh¡­ just gleeful to be alive. It¡¯s a miracle, truly.¡±


    ¡±Yes¡­ they¡¯ll buy that, they¡¯ll buy that indeed.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ shame Tremble died,¡± Trip said. He didn¡¯t think it was a shame, he was lying.


    ¡±Well we don¡¯t know she¡¯s dead for sure.¡±


    As if to prove her wrong, the half burned corpse of one of the pirates bubbled up from the water. A splash of salt and a scream from Trip.


    Devon came over to see what all the fuss was about. She gave them both a side eye when she saw it was nothing, and slunk back over to Hailien.


    ¡±Oh¡­ of course those two are talking.¡±


    Brat, loser, wannabe, idiot.


    ¡°There¡¯s three actually. Don¡¯t forget Adam. I¡¯ve heard him speak with Devon, argue more like it. They don¡¯t get each other, and they never will.¡±


    She leaned into her hand like she was covering a cough.


    ¡±What¡­ what should we do about them?¡±


    The string stretched out into a curve. It was smiling!


    ¡°Nothing. You saved me from drowning back there, and I appreciate it. It¡¯s not so bad to have me in your eye, is it?¡±


    Not bad, not bad at all. His wiggles sent vibrations in Stumble¡¯s brain that made everything seem a little more clearer. Hailien had her chance, she was nothing compared to the Wyrm.


    Who exactly the Wyrm was and why a talking string worshipped it had not been made clear, but she knew for a fact that all would be revealed.


    ¡±And it will,¡± the string said, ¡°but don¡¯t worry your little head about that, all you gotta do is get you and Devon to the Helot. There I¡¯ll link back up with someone very important.¡±


    ¡°Clive?¡±


    Another voice, deeper and heavier, but somehow weaker. Like it had been talking for a long time and it¡¯s throat had gone hoarse.


    ¡±Ignore her¡±


    ¡°Clive¡­ What are you doing? Why are you¡­ no matter. It¡¯s¡­ Yucian. You need¡­ to save me. This current form¡­ it¡¯s agony.¡±


    The raft made out of Constant flesh vibrated slightly. Stumble did a once over of the rest of the raft. Everyone else was huddled alone or in small groups, no one else noticed the shaking, and surely no one else could hear the voice of their own raft, somehow still alive.


    ¡±I think you may have confused me with someone else, ma¡¯am, I¡¯m just a regular piece of talking string. Nothing that strange about me outside of happening to be encased in a very pretty lady¡¯s eyeball.¡±


    Stumble blushed, String always knew exactly what to say.


    ¡±I have existed for months without sleep or rest¡­ the Needles were supposed to make us like Death herself-¡°


    ¡°Who is a very fine woman¡±


    ¡°But now her embrace is the only thing I crave¡­ I¡¯ve been denied it¡­ I¡¯ve been denied for so long¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, look at this,¡± String said.


    He started doing fast circles in her eye, going around and around. It was the most astonishing thing she had ever seen, and she found it easier to ignore the pleas and cries for help from their dumb old former mayor.


    ¡°There must be¡­ some way for me to be fixed¡­ Morgan must be inconsolable, I need to be there at his side¡­ or dead so I can finally sleep¡­ Clive, please, help me¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut up idiot.¡± Stumble muttered to herself, ¡°You¡¯re a boat now.¡±


    ¡­


    Their raft hit the massive torso of the Helot roughly. All of its imperfections and wear could no longer be denied. Blood and rust muddied the bronze metal. The large ridges that served as ruffles in her dress now home to thousands of birds, their nests, their corpses, and their shit.


    Cradled by a wooden brace and staircase that encircled the torso was a massive door, 100 feet tall and built into her stomach. This, unlike everything else, was utterly spotless.


    ¡±Well,¡± Stumble said, her left eye twitching, ¡°shall we go in?¡±


    Just as they had gotten onto the walkway, the grand door of the Helot was pushed open.


    Out walked a group of people holding hands and in a line. They were noticeable due to the sheer fact that they were not. So perfectly nondescript were they that Devon had to make a conscious effort to keep them in focus and not go wandering off to more visually interesting pastures. They were the human equivalent of drying paint.


    The assumption was that they were greeters, here to welcome them to Helot. Hailien nudged Dive, who slowly offered a hand. ¡°Hello, we¡¯re refugees from Gutworth, we were told that this was a safe haven for-¡° hand in hand, the five passed him by. A little ashamed, Dive put his hand back in his pocket. ¡°They must not be here for us.¡±


    ¡°Are we sure they¡¯re here for anyone?¡± Plunge asked.


    Before anyone could answer, the giant doors opened again. A massive hand gripped the side of the door and pushed.


    A large lanky creature about 12 feet tall walked out, his mountainous features partially covered by his cloak like black hair. Only his underbite and gourd-like nose could be seen. From between his knees emerged a beautiful man with a perfect stride. He smiled at them, and the disturbing sight of the too large man was immediately forgiven. Trip whistled, Stumble tried to do a catcall, but was elbowed into silence by Collapse.


    The beautiful man took a bow, seeming well aware of his appearance. He then pointed to the still opened doorway, bracing them for something even more impressive.


    Out walked a Constant.


    No one said anything. Even Adam¡¯s constant humming had ceased. Between the tall man and the beautiful one (who now very clearly were acting as bodyguards) The Constant took out a comb and furnished his already very voluptuous pompadour.


    ¡±I sense¡­ nothing?¡±


    It was Jeavell Death, the deathly heartthrob of Lemure¡¯s Legacy. Devon tightened her grip around Adam. She was ready. This day would end with one less constant.


    Jeavell, letting a smirk grow on his black lips, offered a hand. She was pointing beyond them.


    Beyond the stairs, now at the dock, were the five people walking hand in hand. They were moments away from the sea, and showed no sign of stopping.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna wanna watch this.¡±


    The five stepped off the edge and into the water. They seemed confident the dock would continue, and it was tragic that reality did not agree with them. Within seconds they were miles below the surface, still trying to move forward despite the difficulty in the action.


    ¡°Yes, you saw correctly, they just went and drowned themselves. Those are Placebos. We don''t know where they come from, but they¡¯re as dumb as you think. They walk around like they¡¯re in a dream. You could cut off their head, and their body will keep walking. I don¡¯t even think drowning will slow them down.¡± She said, shrugging.


    Devon didn¡¯t care, she was running forward, Remark held high.


    ¡°Devon, this is not wise and I can tell you agree. I sense no power from this one. We should listen to what they have to say.¡±


    ¡°Ten seconds!¡± Devon said, ¡°Then you fucking die.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to kill me?¡± Jeavell crossed her arms. The men on either side of her drew Remarks.


    ¡°Five seconds!¡± She was bounding the stairs two at a time. She would kill him, she had to kill her.


    ¡°It will be pointless considering I¡¯m no longer a Constant.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Devon skidded to a halt, the soles of her feet burning as she slid and tripped up two more steps.


    Jeavell looked down at her from one step above, hands on hips.


    ¡°You¡¯re a smart girl, so here¡¯s what you¡¯re thinking.¡± Jeavell said. ¡°Because I¡¯m no longer a Constant, I no longer have the power of a Constant, meaning the fight with me will be boring and one sided, and you¡¯re correct.¡± She summoned her Remark. Once an impressive lively thing of metal and corrugated sludge, it was now a sliver of flame that hovered over their hand. ¡°Montanna revoked it, the little piece of drapery. We Constants have lost our authority, the average number not only still has their power, but it¡¯s now strengthened. You all have a power equal to the position of 41.¡±


    The Fall Collective talked amongst themselves, excited and already dimly aware of this. Hailien was unimpressed. ¡°So you renounce the power you had as a Constant?¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily renounced, not by choice,¡± he said. Clearly this fact was still a sore spot.


    ¡°But yes, I¡¯m a commoner.¡± She gestured at her two bodyguards. ¡°They¡¯re not even here for me, they, and I guess myself as well, work for 30. Now, you have some cargo to deliver to him, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°We certainly do,¡± Hailien said. She motioned urgently to Devon to help her with the barrel.


    Devon was still staring at Jeavell, waiting for him to show their true colors.


    Jeavell scratched her hair absentmindedly. ¡°Yeah, you don¡¯t trust me. Makes sense. I¡¯m not going to kill you, if you really want to then I can¡¯t really stop it. I¡¯m no longer affiliated with Lemure¡¯s Legacy. 18 and 19 aren¡¯t either. Yeah they¡¯re technically in the battle royale that Montanna set up. Grand, is that annoying, but they¡¯re harmless, they wouldn¡¯t even hurt you,¡± she said this last part with a forced innocence, ¡°and lots of people want to hurt you Devon.¡±


    18 and the beautiful 19 flashed matching smiles.


    ¡°But you still use the numbers.¡± Devon said. ¡°You¡¯re still referring to the others by their ranks. Do you even know their names?¡±


    ¡°Old habit I guess.¡± She cocked her head back. ¡°There should be communicators inside that let you see what¡¯s going on on the mainland, if you don¡¯t trust me.¡±


    With his head still angled back, she addressed the Numbers. ¡°Okay, I welcomed them here like he asked, can I go in now? I had to cut a date short for this, literally.¡± The handsome one shrugged handsomely. Jeavell took this as a sign they were free, and walked briskly through the gate.


    With reluctance, and with no further reason to be up there, Devon walked down the flight of stairs until she reached Hailien.


    Out of earshot of the two numbers, Hailien said, ¡°You know, if you still want to kill Jeavell. You have every right to.¡±


    ¡°But wouldn¡¯t that be frowned upon? This is a place declaring itself neutral territory, as annoying as it is, we must respect that until given evidence they are not respecting it in turn.¡± Adam said this as if the betrayal was inevitable, Devon respected that. It made waiting feel worth it. Through it was a different tone from the one who had been so gung ho on killing Tremble.


    Hailien offered them a raise of an eyebrow, ¡°This is all pretty strange isn¡¯t it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for saying that.¡± Devon said. She made to help Hailien lift the barrel but the brawny Number lifted it easily with one hand, cradling it across her chest. Of course, she didn¡¯t need any help.


    ¡°I will say it as often as the situation calls for.¡± She said strictly. The two were now walking up the stairs, the others not far behind them.


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I guess a lot of this probably stems from Adam. He really cut through the ranks.¡± Devon said.


    ¡°You killed a Constant. It¡¯s unprecedented,¡± her eyes narrowed. ¡°What does Adam think of this?¡±


    ¡°I think in terms of finality. I wish I didn¡¯t but it¡¯s what my brain keeps resting on as a mode of comprehension. I think we are reaching the end of this city, the end of Lemure, and the end of me, most likely.¡±


    ¡°He, uh, also thinks this is weird.¡° She frowned, not really understanding what Adam was getting at, outside of the fact that such thoughts made her nervous.


    ¡°We talking about how weird this all is?¡± Dive asked.


    ¡°You were standing right next to them, you buffoon, you know they are.¡± Trip said. His hands were behind his back and he looked as poised as usual.


    ¡°Right, right. It¡¯s just a little something called, uh, tact. They teach that in ¡°being a good conversationalist¡± school.¡±


    ¡°Well I was homeschooled, so it wasn¡¯t taught.¡±


    ¡°Technically we all were.¡± Plunge said, taking up the rear and being surprisingly quiet up till now. ¡°None of us were rich or known enough to attend the academy, and they only take, what, twelve students from here a year?¡± She glanced at Hailien with hope, Hailien was walking in front of her, and didn¡¯t seem to notice that she was talking. ¡°If Lemure¡¯s Legacy is destroyed, do you think maybe we could get our own school here? Maybe¡­ give people a future that doesn¡¯t involve having to kill.¡±


    ¡°Is it true that things are different outside the drum? I heard things were different outside the drum.¡± Dive said.


    ¡°It has to be. Especially in the Academy, no way does that place have murder games.¡±


    ¡°I always suspected we were the backwater outlier of a world far more civilized.¡± Trip shrugged. ¡°Too bad we can¡¯t confirm that.¡±


    Collapse signed something that caused them to all burst into laughter.


    There were a good ten steps before Hailien responded. ¡°Johann had been to almost every city in Gehenna. He had been all over due to his role as Envoy for Lemure¡¯s Legacy. You¡¯re only familiar with Luminescia, aren¡¯t you?¡± She said this to the whole of the Fall Collective. They nodded. Devon knew about Sloan, many of the sculptures and statues that didn¡¯t come with the town came from there.


    ¡°Well I¡¯ll tell you this, no matter what city he went to-¡°


    They had gotten to the top of the stairs now, the gates open and beckoning to them. She turned to the rest of the group, her eyes dull.


    ¡°- he always told me it was far, far worse.¡±

 Chapter 29: Y’all gonna love the Basset Hound

    The buyer had arranged for the bar on the 60th floor to be their meeting place. They boarded a mechanical climber that gripped one of the many steel beams that supported the inner walls. It came as a surprise to all of them when Hailien declared on the Climber that she would not be attending the meeting.


    ¡°I trust you can handle this by yourselves,¡± she said, ¡°you don¡¯t need me around to hand off some watches.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t wrong, Hailien was a passenger on the ship the same way Devon was. A passenger who held quite a bit of sway, Devon thought, but a passenger. This was all ship business, Devon didn¡¯t need to be here either. And truthfully, she didn¡¯t want to be.


    They wanted answers, or at least get her to agree to stay for a drink, but she silenced them with a wave of her hand that hit the glass of the Climber sharply.


    ¡°I have business to attend to. Just don¡¯t get cheated. Strongarm him if you have to.¡±


    She pried open the door and went through an entrance the Climber was in the process of passing. Her body descended into shadow.


    ¡°Guess any stop worked for her,¡± Trip said once she was gone.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Stumble fiddled with her braids.


    ¡±What business does she have, you figure?¡± Plunge asked.


    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s going to kill Jeavell,¡± Devon said. It¡¯s what she would have done, through she doubted Hailien had any such plans. It was just something to say.


    They all turned to her, taking the comment far too seriously.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m not condoning it or anything. But-¡°


    ¡°Following in Johann¡¯s footsteps. I like it, I like it.¡± Trip said, nodding sagely.


    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll be expected to pose with the body?¡± Plunge asked, eyes to the ground.


    ¡°What!?¡± Stumble made as if to hit Plunge, but the lack of a Remark made it clear the threat was hollow.


    ¡°Wish she would have invited us. We could have been back up.¡± Grumbled Dive.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, people pose when they reel in big fish. If you get a Constant, especially a corpulent sort-¡°


    ¡°Is Jeavell corpulent now? She¡¯s not. They¡¯re more like a, it¡¯s more like he¡¯s designed for a mail slot.¡± Trip smiled privately. ¡°Very rigid, lots of right angles.¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t even invite us!¡± Dive said, getting heated. ¡°She made us do all the boring work while she has all the fun!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re supposed to deliver watches?¡± Plunge said, like this was a new development. ¡°I didn¡¯t sign up for that.¡±


    Collapse pointed accusingly at Devon. Now that was uncalled for, what the fuck did she do?


    ¡±Oh Curtain, they¡¯re running with it.¡± Adam muttered. Was there a hint of amusement in his voice? Of course there was.


    Stumble got really close. Her breath smelled of chalk and lint. There was something black and thin in her eyes, swimming to and fro, ¡°Do you really think Hailien can kill a Constant?¡±


    ¡±Well, she¡¯s done it before.¡± Devon said, not sure how serious to take this.


    Stumble gave her an odd look, like she had legitimately forgotten, and then turned away with a dismissive wiggle of the nose.


    Collapse suddenly waved their arms erratically, bursting into an intricately signed treatise. What she was saying Devon didn¡¯t know, but the others were gripped by it.


    ¡°She¡¯s right.¡± Stumble said, tears welling in her eyes. ¡°We need to be there for her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that''s a good point. She needs us now more than ever!¡± Dive said.


    ¡±Then¡­ we must be there for her,¡± Stumble clasped her hands together and grimaced, ¡°to make sure she doesn¡¯t do anything ill advised.¡±


    Plunge summoned her Remark. ¡°The Constants die today, yes?¡±


    Trip summoned his. ¡°Anyone remember what floor she got off on?¡±


    No one did. Trip was eventually able to convince them that it was the 26th floor, but Devon knew as well as him that this was a guess. They would probably spend a few hours waving their Remarks around, making a ruckus, before getting bored and winding back where they started.


    They waited impatiently for the Climber to reach another door, and worked together to open it. It took all five of the Fall Collective to get it open, and they trampled out like crawl cows being herded to the killing floor.


    Devon watched them go, and then her eyes reluctantly fell to the large barrel of watches. She sighed. Once again an errand girl. She hefted the barrel up with only a bit of difficulty. The fact that she could at all a cold comfort. Nothing to do but be the responsible one.


    She wanted to puke. Not that she could.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s true. Hailien does not seem the type to act rashly.¡±


    ¡°I mean, yeah. I have a pretty high regard for myself but believing every bullshit claim I make magically come true? Ego wise, I¡¯m not there yet.¡±


    She moved the barrel up and down, subconsciously doing reps. It helped exhaust her frustration.


    ¡°You want to kill them, even though they now lack the power to oppress.¡±


    ¡°Well, they could still be oppressing.¡± She said with a huff. ¡°But yeah, I don¡¯t trust them.¡±


    ¡°It is the position that is the problem, Devon.¡± He said this like her dad, stern and desperate, ¡°Someone leaving a seat of power, be it by choice or not, should be respected. We know only the intentions they¡¯ve shown, and they seem¡­ bored. Callous, sure, but¡­ but¡­ that doesn¡¯t mean we should-¡± She felt a jolt inside her, and her heart rate slowed. ¡°Fallen curtain, you have a lot of rage in you right now. Makes it hard to think.¡±


    ¡°Oh trust me, it would be an even more if I wasn¡¯t trying to stifle it.¡±


    ¡°Is that what you¡¯re doing, or am I? It feels like it¡¯s festering.¡± Being in her brain, it didn¡¯t make sense to argue with him.


    She shrugged. ¡°I just gotta take a breather, find something that will help me blow off steam.¡± She had never been in a gym before, she didn¡¯t even know what one looked like. She tapped the barrel like a musician taps their instrument. ¡°Grand, I really wanna punch someone.¡±


    ¡­


    There was a bartender serving drinks when she arrived. Featureless beige onesie, quite an odd style, but her role was clear from her actions and mannerism. She was pouring drinks, taking orders, and talking to customers.


    The only thing missing were the drinks, orders, and customers. She was miming all this out in a corner devoid of anything. The actual bar was at the farthest corner from her, all of the furniture and furnishings squished together at one end, like the space had been designed specifically for this cruel joke.


    Walking past her, Devon felt sorry for her, but then she remembered that this was a Placebo, and so there was no real person to be sorry for.


    There was another Placebo here as well, taking a large painting and placing it on a horizontal pillar of paintings that jutted out from the wall for about five feet.


    The bar¡¯s counter was scratched. Chunks were missing from it, and there was a strange stain that was darker than the bar¡¯s shadow. The single light above came from a vaguely lamp shaped machine. It had metal teeth that grinded harshly as the bulb sticking out of it flickered, always seeming on the verge of going out.


    A voice from below the bar greeted her, ¡°hey there, give me a sec, I¡¯m just getting something from the basement.¡±


    ¡°Alright¡± Devon said, scanning the room for 30. He was supposed to be here, wasn¡¯t he? And yet the place was empty.


    The only customer was a woman with luscious brown hair staring daggers at the bar. She wore a shirt that Devon couldn¡¯t make out. It was too big for her so the letters were stretched and illegible from this angle.


    She asked the Bartender, ¡°Have you seen a member of Lemure¡¯s Legacy around here? Goes by 30?¡±


    ¡°The legacy is no more, thanks to Montanna,¡± the Bartender said, still unseen. She realized she had heard his voice before, but couldn¡¯t place it.


    ¡°We should ask this man if he was a Legacy member, he seems to know quite a bit.¡±


    ¡°Alright, hey, do you know what¡¯s been going on with-¡°


    ¡°Lemure¡¯s Legacy is no more.¡± Each word was louder than the last as he emerged. He was a handsome man in an ugly sort of way, only a few years older than her but with an extra foot of height, as skinny as a piece of shrapnel. He ran a hand through his curly red hair and grinned.


    The smile did it. She knew him. She knew him. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    He had that gross sort of self confidence that made one wince, that smug, self assured smile that seemed painted on. The only thing different about him was he was missing a finger, that was new. She knew this man, he was not only another Constant, but one she had every reason to despise. The one who personally killed her father, the one named-


    ¡°Clive Bowen!¡± The scream came not from Devon, but from the woman with the perfectly coiffed hair. She was standing now, the too big shirt hanging to her knees. ¡°You are a Constant, and I shall be the one to kill you.¡±


    She could make out the words on her shirt now. It said The Basset Hound in big black letters. Devon had no better idea of what this meant or referred to than you.


    ¡°You got me, but I¡¯m gonna get you back on a technicality. Was a Constant, past tense.¡± He looked to Devon for sympathy. She responded with a sneer.


    He seemed surprised, then gave her a wink, like this was a private game between them.


    The urge to kill him was rising.


    ¡°But I assume you¡¯re part of this big battle royale thing,¡± Clive said, concurrently making a drink for absolutely no one, ¡°which means that doesn¡¯t matter to you. Cause I¡¯m still, technically, a Constant.¡±


    ¡°Montanna said that offing Constants were extra special.¡±


    ¡°Monty said that, huh?¡±


    He was looking back and forth, for what Devon didn¡¯t know. She could kill him. It would be so simple. Adam wiggled in her hand and made this clear. But he needed to recognize her. What would it do for her heart to kill him if he died without knowing why.


    The Basset Hound walked forward confidently. Her weapon was a massive dueling lance, pulsing with a swirling blue light. ¡°I¡¯m a lover of lore, I sniff it out like a floatrat finds light, and I heard that you were powerless.¡±


    The Placebo with the painting walked past. She clotheslined him with her weapon, he turned into purple smoke that dissipated in the shape of a helix.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Devon said, ¡°So there¡¯s no real point in fighting him.¡±


    A quick side eye to Devon, a crooked smile meant for all. ¡°The weird girl is right,¡± Clive said, ¡°I¡¯m harmless.¡±


    Her instinct was not to trust him, but what did he get out of lying, it just made him an easier target. But if so, why show his face?


    It was the same for Jeavell. For people who had lost their strength, they sure liked being public about it.


    The Basset Hound squealed with delight. ¡°Perfect! I hate actually having to try, this will be a breeze!¡± She was right next to Devon now, who had as good a reason to stop this girl as she did to help her. But there was something about Clive¡¯s calm that paralyzed. Some certainty he knew that she didn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t like her to wait, but the energy right now-


    ¡°You feel it too, don¡¯t you? It¡¯s like something¡¯s here, but painted over. Hidden.¡±


    Clive left the bar and faced the Basset Hound. ¡°You¡¯ll at least do me the honor of summoning my Remark?¡± He did so without waiting for permission. It was a pathetic malnourished thing, even smaller than on the day when he killed her father. A Remark like that suited him.


    ¡±That''s not his true power, there¡¯s something underneath.¡±


    Devon adjusted her grip.


    The Basset Hound squealed again, completely oblivious. She got into a style of dueling Devon had never seen before, all bouncing knees and solid arms. ¡°Grand, this is so easy! I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m the first person to find you!¡±


    Clive¡¯s eyes came alive. ¡°Who said you were the first?¡±


    He crushed the pathetic remark in his hand, and it moved into his skin. It was pitch black, and it coated his body from the heart outward. He grew taller, extra joints cracked into existence, but the biggest change was how his head started to burn. i


    As she watched his face change, everything but his smile reduced to blackness, she realized she was wrong. It wasn¡¯t flame. Instead, it was like the top of his head was constantly being erased.


    A finger from the watch barrel crawled out, and took its place on the nub of Clive¡¯s left ring finger. It was so quick and minor in the bizarre transformation that Devon herself missed it, but it should be mentioned.


    When the metamorphosis had more or less finished, Clive stood seven feet tall, his blue tracksuit like outfit still on and now seemed even stranger. He was all limbs and teeth, all black except for that terrifying charred smile. Devon felt ill.


    ¡°This is like the other Constant¡­ oh Curtain, they all did this, every last one of them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve seen this before. Yucian tried something similar. But it didn¡¯t help!¡±


    She restrained Adam. He was vibrating in her hand, it took all her strength to stop him from lashing out and attacking.


    ¡±Not yet,¡± she whispered, ¡°not yet.¡±


    ¡°Yucian did not believe the way we do.¡±


    The transformed Clive grinded his teeth, and somehow, words came out. ¡°There is strength in authority unknown to idiots. The Contrarian¡¯s Needle is a way to consolidate that strength. It can never leave me in the way being a Constant can. Titles are not material, you can¡¯t consume honorifics. Trick and Remark combined, synthesized in the body. That is a tangible process you can see and feel.¡±


    He looked at his hands, their spindly digits, their vanta black darkness. He cracked them all, going finger by finger. In this new form he moved like a windup doll. Sudden jerky motions that ended abruptly.


    ¡°Trick, Remark, Body. Trick, Remark¡­ Body. All three are the same and in that way it is Cain, Abel, and Serach that I now find at my disposal. I am the real and tangible. I am my own creation myth.¡±


    ¡°Uh okay, neat Trick,¡± the Basset Hound said, proudly unphased, ¡°But just cause you¡¯re scary now or whatever doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re strong.¡±


    She swung lazily at the now transformed Clive.


    He caught her Remark in his hand. His hand turned into uncountable numbers of string that wrapped themselves around the lance and broke it easily.


    The Basset Hound screamed, her pain synced with her Remark. Devon felt a sympathy originating from Adam. Not for the Basset Hound, but for her Remark.


    With a kick Clive sent the Basset Hound flying a good twenty feet, landing right underneath the hanged pile of paintings. She hit her head hard on the wall. She tried to get up, hit her head on the frames right above her.


    ¡°Fuck, thats- thats cheating,¡± The Basset Hound said, bleeding from both nostrils.


    ¡°I¡¯m playing a different game.¡±


    A single string from Clive''s shoulder lashed at the paintings. One by one they fell. The first few not hitting The Basset Hound, only the space directly in front of her, but the last twenty or so found their target. She died buried under dozens of oil paintings, none of them particularly good.


    The broken Remark burned bright and vanished. With no more distractions, he turned to where Devon last was.


    She wasn¡¯t there. From behind him she pounced but his hand transformed into a scythe and slashed her back. She fell back on the counter.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    A half dozen tendrils of string erupted from his chest and went for her. She ran across the bar counter, straight towards him, hopping and dodging them until she was close enough to jump up, Adam raised.


    He turned into strings that she fell into. The strings then turned into rope that tied and bound her. Adam fought valiantly, going after them one by one, but it wasn¡¯t helping, her skin was becoming scarred, the rope pushing harder and harder with every one he cut.


    ¡°Adam, to me.¡± His cold body snapped back to her. The strings lessened ever so slightly.


    ¡°These things aren¡¯t people or Remarks. What did the other one say? Contrarian¡¯s Needle¡­ awful things, we need to kill him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m really trying.¡±


    The strings that weren¡¯t restraining her slithered over the counter. Out popped Clive, the smooth way he came up almost comical. It deserved a slide whistle.


    ¡°Hello there ma¡¯am, what would you like to start off with?¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re out of those I¡¯m afraid. Popular choice,¡± he took out a napkin and began wiping the grimy counter, really playing the part. ¡°How about some explanation, you look like you could use it.¡±


    ¡°Okay then, what¡¯s going on here exactly?¡±


    ¡°Revenge,¡± said a low voice.


    She saw its claws first. A massive beast low to the ground rose up from the bar and slumped against the counter, its flesh was a curdled yellow, it looked like a slumber sloth but without the nose. The only facial features visible were two tiny black eyes.


    ¡°Yucian was not the best of us, but she was one of us.¡± Said a flat, monochrome being who screamed into existence. They looked like a cubist painting that could kill. ¡°And her death is why the sky is falling. Bad stuff. They¡¯ll destroy the .¡± She recognized the voice, this one was Jeavell.


    Which meant the third was-


    ¡°Karol?¡±


    ¡°In the flesh,¡± he said. If it was anyone else it would have been a pun, but there was no humor in his voice. The gentleman cannibal. Personally poached by Lemure to serve as one of his men mere moments before he was meant to be executed. There were many rumors on his habits, and looking into his soulless eyes, Devon knew all of them to be true.


    ¡°Let me bring your attention to the fact that you still live,¡± Clive said, ¡°We want to duel, so we¡¯ll try to keep you in tiptop condition until it¡¯s begun.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s bleeding,¡± Karol stated, ¡°Clive, she can¡¯t bleed yet. That¡¯s cheating.¡±


    ¡°Duels are the honorable thing,¡± Clive droned on, ¡°am I gonna get any more criticism, Karol?¡±


    ¡°Simmer down. We¡¯ll let you have your fun, even if she is damaged goods,¡± Cubist Jeavell shuddered forward, ¡°though if you push any further, she¡¯ll croak. And then, my dear asshole, your point will be rendered moot.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± he held up his hands in mock surrender.


    The strings were still on her, but she could now breathe, and her limbs were no longer at risk of being sliced off entirely.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say I¡¯ve never done anything nice to you.¡± It was unclear to Devon if Clive meant her or Jeavell, ¡°Anywho, the point is, while we are no longer recognized as Constants, we have something far more potent, true power.¡±


    On cue, all three opened their mouths to reveal pitch black spires that lined the space between their grins.


    ¡°The Contrarian¡¯s Needle, a power separate from the Grand Council. A power passed down from The Man With The Permanent Sneer. Through killing you in a way both public and absolute, we will put an end to this rebellion. We will put an end to falsehoods. You cannot kill a god.¡±


    Devon understood and she wished she didn''t.


    ¡°Hypocrites,¡± she said, ¡°you¡¯re all fucking hypocrites.¡±


    ¡°In what way?¡± Karol shifted uncomfortably. He was the only one who seemed hurt by the accusation.


    ¡°Oh! What way? That¡¯s a really good question. Maybe I¡¯d think differently if my father wasn¡¯t killed for worshiping the very same thing you freaks are obsessed with!¡± She was staring only at Clive, the others didn¡¯t exist.


    She gestured as much as the tight string would allow her, ¡°Not that he ever did anything like that. It was a crawlshit charge. Lemure¡¯s whole pitch was to get rid of The Man¡¯s influence, and he¡¯s been a worshiper all this time? What do- what does he even believe in? Killing people based on rumors while you all do shit a hundred times worse! What kind of man like that thinks he deserves a legacy?¡±


    ¡°Well, for one thing, our leader isn¡¯t a man,¡± Clive¡¯s wide smile turned into a frown. ¡°He is a Wyrm.¡±

 Chapter 30: This House Was Not Made With Us In Mind

    Devon had her hands tied. The hundreds of bulging black tendrils moved around her like clouds orbiting a planet. Adam clung to her hand like a bad thought. His sharp side was piercing a bit. She was bleeding a bit. She was of the opinion she should always be bleeding a bit.


    With a laugh Clive flicked his wrists and Devon was lifted. Karol punched the ground in front of her. She scrunched up her face, protecting her eyes from the sudden onslaught of debris.


    ¡±And now the question is¡­ who gets first dibs?¡± Clive said.


    In her mind she thought of freedom.


    Liberation in all its forms spin cycled in her brain and she hoped, she hoped, that Adam would have more of a plan than she did. All she had was her anger. But they could plan, they had the hidden room that was her brain, and Adam could tell her what she needed to do.


    But Adam had gone silent, just his default steady rhythm. His mental heartbeat. Why was that?


    ¡°Adam?¡± She risked saying his name.


    The three former Constants all shared a hearty laugh.


    ¡±Should I tell her?¡± Clive said, ¡°I think I should tell her.¡±


    ¡±I know who we should ask.¡± Jeavell said.


    Jeavell¡¯s head got really big. Not meaning that he got up in Devon¡¯s face, or in a metaphorical ego way, just that her head got physically bigger, clipping the edges of the room and vibrating like a balloon about to burst.


    ¡°Hey Adam,¡± it was Jeavell¡¯s voice, echoing inside Devon¡¯s head, ¡°Should we tell your ward that we¡¯ve been able to hear you and her this whole time?¡±


    Adam remained silent. Devon had nothing to say, she felt her tongue in her throat and it felt like a nasty drip slug. Everything felt awful.


    Clive raised his shoulders, an abstract shrug ¡°Once again, it¡¯s the needle. It allows us to hear Adam.¡±


    ¡±That cutting Remark sure has some cutting remarks!¡± Clive put an arm around Karol and the two grotesques doubled over in laughter.


    A gunshot of teeth as Jeavell was reflected on every square surface and every spare thought, ¡°Enough of this mockery, drop her!¡±


    The restraints were removed quick enough to cause rope burns. She fell through the hole and braced for impact.


    ¡­


    Karol, The Brute. Jeavell, The Lover. Clive, The Fool.


    The three archetypes (of the thirty five that repeat throughout history) were standing above the hole the Brute made, looking down at their quarry.


    They couldn¡¯t see her. She had fallen into a pinprick of light and fled as soon as she had hit the ground. They could hear the tin noise of the Placebos from below, the music they had played for millennia, the music that would be halted within minutes.


    They kept their forms, but they adjusted their voices. No need to speak in tones that could shatter eardrums when you had no one to impress.


    ¡°Oh, this will be a fun, some sort of all-you-can move dance extravaganza. Bet it¡¯s been going on for years,¡± The Fool leaned down to get a better look. Dancers in groups of three twirled through the light, the passage of a new trio so uniform it was like clockwork, you could time it. ¡°I¡¯m calling this one. This is my fight.¡±


    ¡°We agreed to draw straws.¡± The Brute sauntered forward, his bulk threatening to bring the whole bar down.


    ¡°Not necessarily.¡± The Lover held out his palm. It fanned and folded until the number of fingers were uncountable. ¡°Majority rules, and I rule he should go first.¡±


    The Fool chuckled, ¡°Seconding that.¡±


    The Brute blustered and bristled, his face growing red. ¡°The Wyrm¡¯s number one rule, don''t go back on deals made.¡±


    ¡°Well the Wyrm¡¯s now a moldering old man being babysat by a sociopath, so I say we follow his Second; Do as you like.¡± The Lover touched The Fool on the shoulder, which made the ashen figure wince. ¡°Don¡¯t keep us waiting.¡±


    Feeling vaguely like he had been tricked, but without a notion as to how, The Fool sliced himself into thousands of strands of black silk, and then flowed like leaking drainage through the hole. Out of sight.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to ruin it. He¡¯s going to ruin it for both of us.¡± The Brute said.


    ¡°No he won¡¯t.¡± The Lover said, ¡°He¡¯ll do what he needs to do, die spectacularly. It will make our fight with her all the more interesting.¡±


    All the while, unseen, a pest that none of them would have liked to see scampered unseen into the bar, through the hole, and into the darkness.


    ¡­


    It was Adam taking over, shielding her from the brunt of the impact by bracing. Adrenaline flowed through her freely, numbing the already dull pain as she got up, the hole above creating a spotlight in the otherwise pitch black room.


    She got up slowly. ¡°Are you still giving me the silent treatment?¡±


    ¡±I don¡¯t think they can hear us at this range. So I have no need to.¡±


    ¡±Sorry, by the way.¡± Devon felt he meant it, but he said it like an afterthought.


    There was the faint sound of music, something lush and mournful. The spotlight suddenly left her.


    The floor was moving slowly, this structure some sort of circular platform spinning endlessly. It reminded her of the metal plates they put hot meals on.


    She saw three dancers, moving in time to the music in a triangular formation. They crested the spotlight, did a full rotation, and then were gone. A few moments later, another trio appeared, and repeated the same motion.


    ¡°Placebos,¡± Devon muttered, ¡°idiot fuckers are dancing.¡±


    ¡°But who''s it for?¡± Adam said, ¡°They must have some sort of purpose.¡±


    Devon breathed deep, and lowered herself to the ground, until her knees were scraping the slow moving metal.


    ¡±Idiot fuckers,¡± she said again.


    The proportions of the room were hard to make out, but judging by the hole, the room was massive. It had already been a minute, and they were still moving away from the spotlight.


    As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a figure in the center, some massive humanoid shape, holding something long and sharp to their chest. It was rotating with the room. To her right was the closest dancing trio, they did their steps without any trouble, like they had been made for this. None of them had eyes.


    She took a step forward, steadying herself and trying not to fall. It was difficult, but months of training had improved her balance. She walked against the rotation, every step a challenge, but it felt far better than the alternative of sitting and waiting to get back to the spotlight. She didn¡¯t trust things that came easily.


    She bumped into one of the trios. Kind of accidentally, but sorta on purpose. They fell over like windup toys, still doing their steps even while on the floor.


    Only one was left standing, and they continued the dance, the sudden lack of their partners not affecting them at all.


    Adam let out a strange gurgle. It was an unpleasant feeling in her brain.


    ¡°What was that?¡± She was moving to the left, trying to find the outermost wall of the room. She kept one eye on the spotlight, concerned that any minute now the three Constants would strike.


    ¡°Did you hear them cry out? It was awful.¡±


    The dancers had remained silent, even as they fell. ¡°No, they¡¯re not- they¡¯re not people, Adam.¡±


    ¡°I heard them cry, maybe it wasn¡¯t verbal, but they did cry out.¡±


    Their task of dancing for eternity, in a pitch black room for an audience of none. Yeah, she felt real bad for them. Her hands finally met concrete.


    There was a small outcropping jutting out of the wall, thankfully not moving, and she quickly climbed up it. She scraped her knees in the process, but it felt a small price to pay to finally be standing on something that wasn¡¯t moving from under.


    ¡°These aren¡¯t people like you and me. They¡¯re Placebos, I don¡¯t think they can feel pain.¡±


    ¡°What makes me a person and them objects?¡±


    Devon didn¡¯t have time for this, though her growing frustration wasn¡¯t wrapping up the conversation. ¡°Because I can talk to you I guess. I met you as a person so that''s what I view you as, a person.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°But what if I¡¯m not¡± Adam said, ¡°What if I¡¯m just a hyper advanced series of responses preprogrammed to respond to certain stimuli. I could not be sentient, I could simply be a machine very proficient at making you think I¡¯m sentient. While you saw me as a human, I wasn¡¯t born a human, I was born a Remark, I feel more allegiance to these Placebos than you, there¡¯s nothing about my thought process, even my status as a conscious being, that you can take for granted.¡±


    Devon frowned, not understanding or enjoying the convo, she could tell from the way Adam vibrated in her hand that the feeling was mutual. ¡°Whats gotten into you?¡±


    ¡°Just something to think about,¡± Adam said. ¡°There¡¯s movement at the hole.¡±


    Fuck, her attention snapped back to the spotlight. Hundreds of black strands fell into the room, and then dispersed in every direction. She slowed her breathing, and raised Adam up defensively.


    ¡°Okay¡± she said, speaking slowly, ¡°He can- he can hear us, but that''s okay, he doesn¡¯t know where we are, we just keep quiet, and hope he doesn¡¯t realize that we¡¯ve already left the room.¡±


    The strands started moving lazily to the edges of the room and slipping underneath the cracks.


    ¡°But we haven¡¯t left the room¡± A high pitched nasal voice said, ¡°We¡¯re on the wall, trying to keep hidden.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s someone right besides you as well.¡±


    ¡°Fuck¡± she yelled, and tumbled back, landing on the floor with one hand catching her fall. She hoisted herself up and got into a combat stance quickly.


    In the dark she could only make out the form. It¡¯s body seemed a shade lighter than the room, made out of some slick viscous substance, there were spikes protruding from it¡¯s back, like some sort of mutated piercesquirrel. Its pitch black teeth and rubbery mouth contorted into a smile, it¡¯s throat was the color of the world ending.


    Devon recognized that smile, that shit eating grin. She thought she was dead.


    ¡°Tremble?¡±


    She nodded excitedly, putting a hand to her lips. As if on cue, the closest trio to them was attacked. Six razor wires sliced them into shuddering pieces, before retreating again into the darkness.


    BAM! A large section of the ceiling came tumbling down, the section of concrete roughly falling with a bounce, before lodging itself into the rotating floor. With it came light, and the room was just a tad more illuminated. As the string swarmed the new light source like a school of fish, a blue black bolt of energy crossed through the crowd, destroying a few of the strands outright.


    It was not aimed at the strands, but the ceiling, and it hit its target. Once it hit, the bolt seemed to melt, sticking and bubbling to the ceiling, reversing the color, before exploding. Another chunk fell to the floor.


    ¡°Your friend is throwing those¡± Adam tugged in her hand, urging her to look behind her, she knew Tremble would be there, with another bolt in hand.


    She did not know what the girl''s strategy was, but right now it was a good distraction. Once again the strands attacked the spotlight, and once again they found nothing.


    This time Devon was prepared, and she sent Adam off on a search and destroy mission. He tore through the strands like a hammer demolishing a wicker basket. Before they could regroup he was already back in her hand. She was walking backwards at the same speed as the rotation, keeping her in place.


    And all the while the music played. That mournful meaningless music that seemed to only get louder the less one cared for it.


    A shrill high note when a large string lashed against her hand, answered by a refrain of the main melody and a slice of Devon¡¯s own. A sudden shift in tempo when a group of string coalesced into a clawed hand, a violin suddenly taking prominence as the hand reached for her throat. Her cut through it coincided with the cut of the orchestra, leaving only the violin to solo its mournful melody.


    Was it her own imagination, or was the music reacting to her?


    Tremble was going crazy. Launching arrow after arrow aimed at the heavens, her mission seemed to be to illuminate the room at all costs, through the bluntest instrument available. She was succeeding.


    A rather massive oblong piece of the ceiling fell through, bringing with it the furniture of the bar, and the corpse of the Basset Hound as well. The room now coated in a eerie blue, better to highlight the strange red marks of mold that striped the concrete walls.


    Devon could finally make out the figure in the center of the room, the thing that the room literally revolved around.


    It was a headless corpse, skin like alabaster, impaled by a spoke at the center of the room. It was the axis the room rotated on. The body moved with it, like some perverse shop display, allowing her to make out the muscles and curves, the gender of the body was ambiguous, and it was beautiful.


    It towered over her, a good twenty feet, and its hands clutched the spike. Its last moments must have been a desperate attempt to pull itself up from the spike. How terrible.


    The strange thing though, was that its neck did not have a wound. It was smooth like stone, as if the head had been sanded down rather than decapitated. The assumption was that this was not a body, but some morbid piece of art. And yet, for some strange reason Devon couldn¡¯t grapple with, she refused to consider that this thing was a statue and not a corpse. For her to feel awe, to feel sympathy, it had to have once been alive.


    For what¡¯s the tragedy in a sculpture?


    ¡°Devon, watch out¡±


    A string like an arrow whizzed past her, skimming her ear. A bolt was tossed right behind her, her neck hairs stood on end and singed with a sharp fizzle. Oh yeah, the fight.


    Tremble, realizing there was no ceiling left to destroy, turned to helping in a far more beneficial manner, attacking the strands directly. Through her attacks, a combination of her quills and claws were used recklessly, the placebo dancers just as much of a target as the strands. Devon kept a wide berth from her accordingly, still not sure what to make of her sudden appearance.


    Suddenly, dozens of strands attacked her at once. Wrapping around her torso and trying in a desperate attempt to squeeze the life out of her.


    ¡°Heads up¡±


    ¡°I got it¡±


    Inhaling from her lower belly, she calmly raised Adam and cut through.


    Half of the strands burst into flames at once.


    Wincing from the singe, she breathed out, and broke the rest of the strings from the sheer strength of her abdominals. That was not something she could have done before all this. Then again, she¡¯d never have needed strong abs if she had continued being a short order cook.


    ¡°Please stop thinking about your abs, he¡¯s reforming.¡±


    Screaming would have been a more accurate term. From the top of the pierced body, the remaining strands coalesced, colliding into each other and grinding harshly until they merged.


    As the swarm became one distant shape, the screaming grew louder. It reached it¡¯s climax when the top of the black pile became the twisted mouth of Clive.


    Two arms and a leg formed below, hovering slightly above the smooth neck, but there wasn''t enough mass left to recreate the rest of his body. So he was a half made thing hovering over a decapitated corpse, remaining inert as the corpse below moved. His teeth grinded, and his voice boomed throughout the room.


    ¡°Tremble, you had one job for me, and you accomplished it.¡±


    Tremble beamed and stood straighter. A wayward strand was still trying to attack her neck, she picked it up casually and crushed it. Clive shuddered.


    ¡°But you fucked it up. Why did you fuck it up?¡±


    She didn¡¯t know how to answer. Looking at her now, when she wasn¡¯t flinging bolts or a blur of violence, she was terrifying, six feet tall, muscular in a wiry feral way, with red skin and blue false eyes above her smaller beedier ones. If it wasn¡¯t for her skewed smile and crooked nose, Devon never would have recognized her.


    But this monstrous form of Tremble had something else in common with the one she and Adam knew, she was pathetic. As soon as he admonish her, she slumped down and looked at the rotating floor, ¡°I didn¡¯t fuck it up.¡± She said, after a moment of silence.


    ¡°You are interfering in her execution, why the Grand are you doing that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, why are you doing that?¡± Devon asked, power walking.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t need a reason, it¡¯s arbitrary¡± Adam said, everything about his voice screaming dismissive, ¡°She helped me, only to betray me, she tried to kill you, only to help you.¡± Tremble¡¯s monsterous head turned towards them. ¡°And look, now she¡¯s turning her head towards us, as if she can hear us. Completely arbitrary.


    It was more than just the fact that she looked at her, it was the way her eyes narrowed as Adam talked, the way her claws closed into fists as he insulted her. Devon knew at that moment that Tremble could hear Adam as well.


    Luckily, instead of mauling her, Tremble turned to face Clyde. ¡°It¡¯s because you don¡¯t deserve to kill her, you coward!¡±


    ¡°COWARD? COWARD?!? ME?!?¡± And with that his left hand and arm burst into wiggling string, and went spinning in two different trajectories, one aimed at Devon, the other aimed at Tremble.


    She had been ready this whole time for a second round, she waited until the last possible second to move. Running in the direction of the rotating floor, two thirds of the strands weren¡¯t able to correct in time and burst into flames on impact with the floor. To their credit, the surviving strands were keeping pace with Devon and biting her as she ran. She dealt with them one by one, bearing the stings and cuts until all of them were destroyed, moving past the few remaining Placebos, continuing with their dance as best as they could.


    For the last one Devon shifted into a tumble and pierced the string with Adam, propelling it to the ground as she fell, and pinning the fiery remains to the floor. Clive made a noise, like something trying to shout while keeping their teeth clenched. She looked up, she was back where she started, right besides Tremble, smiling over the burning remains of two dozen strands.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a coward. Unlike you, Devon!¡± His voice was ragged and hoarse, it seemed far more appropriate than the casual attitude he first had when they had met earlier. ¡°You flee from us, kill one of our own, and then what, hide out in a ship because you can¡¯t deal with the consequences? Did you know I was there with you, for almost all that time? I cut off my own finger so I could be there, in a weakened version of my Remark. I heard you DEVON, I heard you clashing remarks with that traitor 37¡± Her face simmered, he interrupted himself to laugh. ¡°You were so scared to face any of us, you¡¯d rather hide in a ship and pra-¡°


    With only the slight jolt of her left hand, Adam rushed from her, spinning rapidly, and tunneled through the head of Clive, leaving a massive stringy hole on his left side, right above his exposed teeth, which were now grinding harder and harder, till-


    WHAM! He was hit again from behind, a second hole from the right, overlapping enough with the left to dissipate what remained of the upper half of his string composed head. There was nothing but a thin layer of skin above his teeth.


    Devon caught Adam, blushing a bit from pride. ¡°I was training, and it fucking paid off!¡±


    She grinned. If she wasn¡¯t preparing to throw Adam again, she would have done a bow.


    Clive sighed, a sound like steam hissing through a grate. ¡°I see.¡±


    What remained of his body became five large ropy strings which reached up forever, far beyond where the roof once was. ¡°THE FUN ENDS HERE!¡±


    Devon threw Adam again, but he was far more nimble in this form, carefully dodging and thinning when necessary until they got to their targets, the limbs of the giant corpse. They wrapped themselves around their chosen appendage, and then the ropes disappeared, as if they were never there.


    The ground rumbled.


    Small cracks became large ones as legs moved experimentally, while arms patted down the spire their stomach was caught in, ready to finish a job on hold for centuries. The neck craned itself up as the hands and legs worked in tandem to slowly move the torso out of the spires grasp.It became easier the farther they went up, the last feet or so was much smaller, so at that point the legs could focus on more immediate pursuits, like making the cracks even bigger.


    ¡°Hold onto something!¡± Devon screamed, before the now freed giant ripped the spire that had imprisoned it for so long, out of the ground. The ground reared up from under them, and then they were falling.

 Chapter 31: Murder on the Dance Floor (a Funny Title for an Otherwise Depressing Chapter)

    It wasn¡¯t easy being the leader, especially when you didn¡¯t know where you were going.


    Be amazed at the incredible calm of Collapse Lender as she navigates rising tensions with rude gestures and half hearted shrugs! Marvel at how she ducks under steam vents and jumps over pipes with nimble ease! Delight in her inevitable success as she confidently guides her ragtag crew through unknown territories and back into the waiting arms of their peerless mentor!


    Yeah, she wished.


    ¡°Are you sure she went this way?¡± Shuffling, grunts and complaints as passageways became crawlspaces, then crawlspaces became boiler rooms with jungles of pipes. The Helot was bigger on the inside then it looked, and it already looked mighty big.


    ¡°Stop, wait, not- oh, you messed up the pipe, they¡¯re gonna have our head.¡± Steam hissed, someone had clipped a pipe (definitely not her, what with her nimble ease and all).


    Let the steam obscure the path behind them, they would never need to double back. If she kept telling herself this, perhaps she¡¯d start to believe it.


    ¡°Who¡¯s gonna have our head anyway?¡± Stumble asked, cocking her head. ¡°The Constants? Not gonna happen. Lemure? I heard he¡¯s already dead.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re forgetting Montanna, I heard he¡¯s the new 41,¡± Said Trip, sporting a sly grin.


    ¡°I¡¯m not forgetting him, he¡¯s just irrelevant,¡± Stumble dismissed him with a wave.


    ¡°Hey Collapse.¡± She bristled at her own name. She had let the others go ahead of her, in hopes that she would be forgotten, maybe even relieved of navigating duties, but no such luck. ¡°Are you sure you know where we¡¯re going?¡±


    Not a clue.


    But!


    She was the one who handled the ship, she was the one who kept things running. They were now sans ship, but her duties remained. She had taken the lead and signed that it would take only 20 minutes to find Hailien.


    That was 30 minutes ago. They had not found Hailien.


    One of the benefits of your tongue getting cut out is people no longer question your silences. Not signing with your hands is far less conspicuous than taking a rather long time to answer a direct question.


    When Collapse stopped what she was doing and stared at the ground, it came across as wise and considered. A brave leader weighing her options, not an incredibly nervous young woman, trying her best to think of an answer that didn¡¯t sound like bullshit.


    ¡°I think-,¡± she didn¡¯t have to finish the sign, thankfully. Another gas pipe broke, this one on its own. The smoke spilled out and drew her eyes to a large open door. A neon sign above proclaimed, ¡°Control Room.¡±


    Good enough for her!


    Not wasting such a lucky break, Collapse enthusiastically pointed to it and ushered them forward. They couldn¡¯t believe they had missed it.


    ¡°You knew this was here the whole time, didn¡¯t you, you¡¯re a sly one, C!¡± Plunge said.


    ¡°Gotta admit, you had me going for a bit.¡± Dive said.


    ¡±Collapse,¡± Stumble said, pushing past Trip and keeping pace. ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve underestimated you.¡±


    Stumble had been the one who had continuously questioned her as they tried to find Hailien. Even Trip, their designated contrarian, was willing to give Collapse more benefit of the doubt than her. She started to sign something generic and fleeting to express all was good.


    Stumble gripped Collapse¡¯s hand, and pulled it down. Arm wrestling was a fun way to pass downtime. Collapse could beat Stumble handedly, it was a sure fire way to get her to shut up.


    So why was her grip suddenly so strong?


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to say anything, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re surprised. After all, I¡¯m the nicest person you know.¡± There was something in Stumble¡¯s eye, a squiggly black line that thrashed about her iris. But then she blinked and it was gone. ¡°But I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d get us here, I thought we¡¯d be wandering the halls here for eternity.¡±


    In front of them the others were shouting excitedly, the cramped tunnel on the other side of the door was opening up to light. Stumble gripped Collapse¡¯s shoulder as they walked.


    While she wanted to get to the other end of this passage, Stumble¡¯s grip on her shoulder felt like that was in question, like Stumble expected her to suddenly balk and run. And there was, admittedly, a part of her that felt that that would be the correct choice. Her Remark made itself known in the emptiness. The dice rolled around in her hand, it felt good to feel them.


    ¡°We¡¯re not only gonna find Hailien there, we¡¯re gonna find our destinies.¡± Stumble said, ¡°I¡¯ve been told by a special friend that we¡¯re so close to getting what we¡¯ve always deserved.¡±


    The others passed through the light first. Even up close one couldn¡¯t tell what lay beyond it. That wasn¡¯t a bad sign, Collapse told herself, in fact, it was probably a good sign. More light meant more good, right?


    As gently as she could, she tried to get Stumble to release her grip.


    ¡±There¡¯s no need for that.¡± Stumble said, her voice detached. The black squiggle was back, looking slightly larger.


    Trying to be as polite as possible about it, she pushed Stumble away and walked into the room, the brightness blinding as the sound of Stumble¡¯s footsteps echoed after her.


    The room, strangely, did not resemble a Control Room.


    It resembled the innards of a large pit, but hundreds of times bigger. To look anywhere was to look at its walls. Huge and unending. Ascending high out of view, they became a rusted sky. Fine lines were etched into the wall, creating a grid pattern that added to the enormity of it. It was like the Drum in miniature, but not as comforting.


    Most of the floor was empty air, only a cross shaped section of walkways outside of the small center area, a small rectangle arranged like a waiting room. It was furnished with green chairs, tacky floor tiles, and even a clock miraculously floating at the edge of the space, right where a wall would have been.


    There were two people at the center, a large wiry man staring back at them, and a handsome man reading a magazine in one of the polyester chairs.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be afraid.¡± The kind man said, his voice made massive by the echo. He flipped through his copy of Carnifex Daily. ¡°Come on over, you can trust us.¡±


    ¡°I think we can trust him¡± Collapse signed. The others nodded, they were all smiles.


    ¡±I¡¯ll translate.¡± Stumble said to Collapse. The two approached as equal leaders, the other three staying about a length behind them. They were all in the central waiting room now.


    Outside of the cross shaped walkways, there was emptiness on all sides.


    ¡°Heya!¡± Stumble said, very much not translating for Collapse. ¡°You¡¯re the guys we saw beforehand.¡±


    The large one nodded.


    ¡°Yes, we are,¡± the kind one said. His voice was light and melodious. ¡°Did you all have trouble finding the place?¡±


    Collapse was signing frantically, wondering how the Grand they knew they would be here. Stumble saw this and grinned.


    Turning back Stumble said, ¡°Not at all, we had help from my co-captain here.¡± She gestured at Collapse. ¡°My name is Stumble Pedigree by the way, I¡¯m the boss of this group, we¡¯re called The Fall Collective.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡±We¡¯re kind of a freelance advocacy group for violence liberation.¡± Dive said, stepping forward, ¡°the idea that violence can exist without a hierarchy¡­ or that those who do violence are entitled to the material effects. Trip¡¯s teaching me about something called ¡°Theory¡±.¡±


    ¡±I was under the impression we were an independent shipping company, is that not true?¡± Plunge asked, her hands very firmly in pockets.


    ¡°You know, we never agreed on the Fall Collective.¡± Trip said, his glasses bright in the sunlight. ¡°I was always a proponent of the Danger Friends.¡±


    This gave everyone pause, even the kind man seemed thrown off. ¡°The Danger Friends?¡±


    ¡±Yeah.¡± Trip said, so confidently that Collapse was second guessing her view that it was the worst name she ever heard. ¡°Cause we¡¯re friends, and we¡¯re dangerous, but also, we seek out danger. Or, really, it seems to seek out us.¡± He looked around, annoyed at the odd looks he was getting. ¡°The Danger Friends. What, are we against monikers that make sense now?¡±


    ¡±I don¡¯t know¡­ the Fall Collective¡­ it has a nice ring to it.¡± Stumble said dreamily. She was acting like she had only just heard the name.


    ¡±But it means nothing. I know what Collective means, it¡¯s a group, but Fall?¡± He wrinkled his nose. ¡°That¡¯s a complete nonsense word.¡±


    Dive was about to say something, but Trip held up a hand.


    ¡±That wasn¡¯t actually Theory, by the way,¡± Trip said, pointing a finger at Dive, ¡°Total misinterpretation of Cleaver¡¯s words on cohesion aesthetics.¡±


    The kind man coughed, and all attention was turned back to him.


    ¡°You¡¯re looking for Hailien, correct?¡± He said.


    Stumble started talking immediately, ¡°Hmmmmm, maybe! Mostly, we¡¯re just looking for Devon.¡±


    Collapse tightened her fingers into fists. What was she talking about? They had just been with Devon. If Stumble was looking for her, well, she knew where she was. Back at the bar.


    To her relief, the strangeness wasn¡¯t contagious. Dive put a hand on Stumble¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Um, yeah, we are looking for Hailien.¡±


    ¡±And Devon. Where is Devon?¡± The black squiggle in Stumble¡¯s eyes were doing laps, somehow moving from one eye to the next and back. Stumble¡¯s own pupils remained oddly still and dilated. ¡°We need to find her. It¡¯s what¡¯s important¡­ I need to help him.¡±


    The kind man and the large one exchanged glances. The large man was behind him, so to accomplish this the kind man turned his neck a good 180 degrees. Like a call cobra, but a very gentle and trustworthy call cobra.


    Collapse poked Trip, gesturing to herself. He sighed, but translated for her.


    ¡°So yeah, my uh, my friend is getting impatient. We all are really. You seem to know what¡¯s up. So point us in her direction and we¡¯ll¡­ fuck off, I guess?¡±


    Surprisingly, the large one answered. ¡°Easy ¡®uestion,¡± he spat and licked his chapped lips. He had an accent that left the first letter of most of his words clipped. ¡°¡®Our friend ¡®is ¡®andering ¡®the tunnels¡­ ¡®ame as ¡®ou.¡±


    ¡±Why are you looking for her anyway?¡± The kind man said. His face on anyone else would be sinister, but on him it was fatherly, ¡°She¡¯s gotten lost looking for you guys, all because you were looking for her. We gave her the information, told her you were wandering, but me and Spratz here didn¡¯t know why.¡±


    ¡°It was a ¡®hame,¡± Spratz said. ¡°¡®Ou just ¡®issed her actually. But ¡®e¡¯ll be back.¡±


    ¡±What is she looking for anyway?¡± The kind man asked, ¡°she said some concerning things about the Constants.¡±


    The kind man smiled at their silence. He turned away from them, stared at Spratz for a long moment, before turning back, his expression uncharacteristically grim. ¡°Your faces say more than your words ever could.¡± He leaned in, his beautiful eyes growing conspiratorially. He gulped, and seemed legitimately nervous. ¡°Y-Y-You¡¯re not planning to¡­ kill the Constants are you?¡±


    It was Dive who broke. He grabbed at his curly hair and made the type of scream when you fucked up and you know you did. ¡°Okay, okay! We were trying to find Hailien because she¡¯s going to kill the Constants!¡± Plunge slapped him hard.


    ¡±Cohesion aesthetics, you idiot,¡± Trip mumbled.


    The kind man approached, hands arched. He was twitching in a way that was agreeable. ¡°Is that so? She¡¯s off on a Constant killing spree?¡±


    Stumble still had that dumb distant smile on her face, like she wasn¡¯t really there. ¡°Are we going to help him?¡± She said to no one, who she meant Collapse didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°You certainly won¡¯t be!¡± The kind man said. He had suddenly gotten real close to Stumble, and was staring at her twitching left eye.


    He gripped her head in his manicured hands. Collapse didn¡¯t think this was strange or cause for alarm, he was a kind man after all. ¡°Understand this¡­ we hate the Constants too.¡±


    Suddenly Spratz had summoned a Remark and was charging at his kind compatriot. Collapse was about to sign ¡°watch out¡±, but the kind man had already slid smoothly to the side. And too late did Collapse realize that it was not the kind man he was targeting.


    With a swift kick he sent Stumble airborne, and cut her in two with a dismissive swipe of his Remark.


    The others screamed, but Stumble didn¡¯t react at all. That far off look in her face remained.


    It was strange, but as Stumble¡¯s carved body was flung off into the darkness, Collapse could have sworn she saw strings emerge from her wound.


    ¡°STUMBLE,¡± The gruff voice was unmistakable, but Collapse had never heard it so laced with fear. It was Hailien on the other side of the room. She must have just entered.


    ¡±And here she is, the woman of the hour!¡± The kind man said. Collapse was picking up quick that this man wasn¡¯t kind at all. Looking at him now, it was like she was seeing him for the first time.


    His hair not full but greasy, less blond than it was unnaturally bleached. His sharp features more like glass shards arranged precariously than anything she¡¯d consider handsome.


    ¡±Is it a Remark, us thinking you weren¡¯t a pleasure killer?¡± Trip said, he was translating for her! Her signing was involuntary, she didn¡¯t expect anyone to even notice. Now that was a kind man! ¡°Your glamor, your whatever. Is that your trick?¡±


    The kind man was preoccupied. He was staring down Hailien, who had her Remark out. She had just snapped her fingers, the force so powerful Collapse swore she felt a gust of wind surge past her moments after.


    Hailien walked forward, she didn¡¯t run.


    ¡°Yes, that''s my trick, not much use now¡± He turned to Plunge, still in shock, and bought out his Remark, a bejeweled knife, ¡°Hold this for me.¡±


    The Remark went straight through Plunge¡¯s head.


    Collapse would never hear another question from her, no more snarky observations. She was pushed off the side by a casual kick.


    It felt especially cruel after Stumble. They should have a limit, a limit to how many friends one could lose in one day.


    ¡±You bastard!¡± Trip said, continuing to speak for her. His Remark was a seared edged rapier, and he used it with force, trying to skewer the man, who was now laughing.


    The man dodged out of the way. He gripped the railing that he had pushed Plunge over, and released, running in a dead sprint towards Hailien. ¡°The kids are all yours, Spratz!¡± He yelled back.


    Spratz was hit by Dive¡¯s Remark, a fishing rod made out of bone. The reel unspooled and wound and wound around Spratz. She was about to roll her dice and join in.


    But then she heard the sound of a sword swing. She turned back, expecting to see the ¡°kind¡± man cut in half.


    Instead, it was Trip and the kind man sandwiched together.


    They had both been pierced through by Hailien¡¯s Remark.


    Trip¡¯s face was one of betrayal. The kind man¡¯s face was wide open and filling with blood.


    Hailien¡­ Hailien turned casually and gave Collapse a simple nod.


    It made it clear this had been no accident.


    Right as Collapse was about to run, Hailien snapped.


    The effect of her attack was reversed. Hailien was now at the other end of the room, right where she was when she first snapped. Trip and the kind man were still together, Trip in the front. They were both taking the moment to comprehend what had happened.


    Trip knew Hailien¡¯s trick, so he at least was aware of what had just occurred, Collapse figured. But there¡¯s a large difference between knowing and experience. He was still in a haze, and Hailien was running forward again, this time snapping her finger when she was only feet from them.


    Acting quickly, she signed to Trip, ¡°Duck.¡±


    The kind man¡¯s last moment was spent staring at her, probably trying to parse what her frantic hand motions was supposed to mean.


    The stab was repeated, this time just for the one who deserved it.


    He didn¡¯t make a sound when it happened. Hailien raised him up, his speared midsection sliding down to the base of her sword. Like one gets rid of an insect, she lowered her sword off the side of the railing and shook it until gravity did the work. The man slid down into darkness.


    Collapse ran to the railing and looked down. She saw a tunnel that ended, not in darkness, but in a smoky blue light. She saw the man¡¯s corpse disappear, then reappear as a silhouette within the light.


    He was so tiny down there, a speck with nothing but the shape discernible. And then, the blue swallowed him. She allowed herself to breathe again, and moved away slowly from the railing.


    ¡±I got the big guy!¡± Collapse jumped and backpedaled. It was just Dive, looking at her confused. He hadn¡¯t seen what had happened to Trip, thank the Grand. (Or, fuck the Grand? Personally, she had more reason to hate them than anything)


    He gestured to where Spratz was tied up. The giant had become surprisingly docile, his head held down as if in shame.


    ¡±Hey, you okay? What happened with¡­ nevermind, I¡¯m just glad¡­ I¡¯m not glad actually. I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± Dive looked past her and squinted. ¡°What''s up with Trip?¡±


    Trip was walking towards them, his face a mixture of grief and betrayal. He mouthed a ¡°thanks¡± to Collapse before moving past them, back the way they came.


    ¡°Lets get the fuck out of here,¡± he said.


    With a shrug, Dive followed him, urging Spratz up. ¡°I guess you¡¯re our prisoner.¡± His nose crinkled in thought. ¡°I wonder how much your boss will pay to, uh, to see you freed.¡±


    ¡±Boss?¡± Spratz said, suddenly full of life. ¡°¡®Oos ¡®dat?¡±


    ¡±You know, uh¡­ 30? That''s your boss, right?¡± He wasn¡¯t exactly selling the confidence the hostage taker role demanded.


    Spratz laughed and laughed. ¡°E''s not my boss. E¡¯s not my boss at all!!¡±


    Dive muttered something too weak willed to matter, and then the two were off behind Trip. She went to follow.


    A large hand stopped her. It gripped her shoulder hard. She wanted the touch to feel comforting, but it made her body go cold. It reminded her of Stumble¡¯s death grip.


    ¡±It¡¯s alright.¡± Hailien said, her breath was hot on Collapse¡¯s back. Like a wild animal about to strike. ¡°We won. We¡¯ll mourn later.¡±


    The blood seeped through her clothing, and she could feel it stain her skin.

 Chapter 32: Kill The Coward In Your Head (repeated three times)

    30 played with his Remark. Oh, how he hated it.


    His Remark was a compass in both form and function. He redefined true north with reckless abandon. the largest arrow going round and round like a clock on fast forward.


    His Remark made labyrinths of his own creation. ¡°Borgesian landscapes,¡± his associate had called them. He had no idea what this meant, but the name was evocative.


    Was a part of being Borgesian the creator¡¯s inability to get lost themselves, no matter how much they desired it? The associate had shrugged at that question, and told him that he was thinking too hard.


    His Remark had led him here. And if he were to ever leave (escape felt appropriate) it would have to be his Remark that showed him the way.


    In one of a dozen honeycombed monitors, a friend of his associate had just killed some poor girl. No, scratch that, the friend had just killed two. He afforded himself a smile, he hated everyone involved in this fight. And now Hailien had walked in, and now he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about his associate¡¯s friend leaving alive.


    But they were fighting in the reactor room. And that could be trouble. Oh, how obvious it was now, aggravatingly so. He rubbed his thinning hair, tapped incessantly on his Remark. He had no choice in what happened, but he certainly had the freedom to worry.


    He flipped his Remark upside down. No more cardinal directions judging his inaction.


    He had wanted a maze, but his mind was a straight line. The impact of every choice obvious and unavoidable.


    And the point to which they were heading- the point to which they were moving to-


    The farthest screen from him crackled to life. In the boxy frame was a smiling man 30 knew all too well. It was his associate.


    ¡°Montanna,¡± 30 said, choosing his words carefully, ¡°how goes the culling?¡±


    ¡°Very good. The action itself has all the subtlety of a John Millius film, but I¡¯m like a Claire Denis protagonist. Simply watching, letting the experience of it all wash over me. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be needed here going forward.¡±


    He was wearing that strange purple blindfold again. What it represented was as unclear as the names he dropped incessantly.


    Resigned to not understanding anything Montanna said, 30 simply gave a half nod. ¡°Shit¡¯s bad here.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Montanna said, his smile growing wider. ¡°That''s why I called.¡±


    He gulped, and placed a nervous hand onto his Remark, rotating the largest top out of sight of the camera above him. ¡°It¡¯s not that the plan isn¡¯t going well.¡±


    Montanna stared and said nothing.


    ¡°Okay, there is one problem.¡±


    ¡°Name it.¡±


    ¡°Collateral damage.¡± 30 said, ¡°I¡¯ve come to really like this place. I have no issue with killing two birds with one stone. But the Constants, somehow, are showing a level of power you promised me they didn¡¯t have. It¡¯s unlike anything I¡¯ve ever seen, they tell me they have no real power, yet their ADM levels are off the charts.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s the issue?¡±


    He moved Montanna¡¯s screen so he could see what was happening.


    In one screen, a giant placebo corpse was fighting an aberration and a very angry looking teen girl, while the metal disc they fought on slowly grinded downward, losing its fight with the walls in a protracted feud of orange sparks.


    In the other, Hailien had run through two with her Remark.


    ¡°Looks good,¡± Montanna said.


    30 ignored this, ¡°And I don¡¯t want to think about what happens if Hailien or one of your friends found the eye.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Montanna had a smirk on. He licked his lips. A disgusting action on its own, made worse by the muddy graininess of the screen.


    ¡°That would wake her up, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°It would reveal the true body.¡± 30 said plainly, there were only a few who knew what the Helot truly was. His hands were shaking, he kept them clasped below his desk, out of Monty¡¯s view.


    ¡°Have you been taking care of her?¡±


    30 hated even thinking about it. Of course his Remark had led him to what lurked in the eye of the Helot. He would never forget that sight.


    The room adorned with chains, the woman floating above him, imprisoned.


    A sliver of flesh, still breathing.


    Ever since then, he had used his Remarks trick to make it impossible for her to be found.


    He had learned enough from the dreams to surmise what would happen if she opened her eyes. He could not allow it.


    He¡¯d never call himself a humanitarian. Grand, he never wanted anyone to even think it. But he could not let her wake up. No one could let her wake up. It was like how forsaking a duel was a universal wrong, or how Death and her dance was a universal good. One of those innate rules of the world that he had fallen into.


    It was a burden he didn¡¯t sign up for. If he had known what this thing really was¡­


    But any other option would have led to his death. This was the best he could hope for, a guaranteed free pass to skip this dreadful civil war. All he had to do was keep a prisoner asleep. His dreams told him she had slept for a hundred years, what was a few more days?


    Despite the blindfold, Montanna was watching the fights from the screens behind 30. ¡°I think she¡¯ll be able to handle them.¡± He said, after a long moment.


    30 had not gotten that expression, but he didn¡¯t feel like arguing the point, especially when it caused Montanna some discomfort. His smile had disappeared. The bastard was frowning, he was actually frowning! A first time for everything, 30 figured.


    Montanna looked around, as if trying to find something off screen. ¡°She¡¯s not to leave alive. Remember to bring me Adam. I may be arriving sooner than planned.¡±


    ¡°What about the others?¡± But Montanna had already disconnected, there was only darkness in front of him.


    30 stared for far too long, as if some image would be conjured from the blackness that would tell him what to do. Finally, he turned away from the monitors, put his head in his hands, and cried.


    .


    .


    .


    They were falling at a rapid rate. How far down was the next floor?


    Adam was speared into the ground as she kept a firm grip, her calloused hands exploring angles of him she didn¡¯t know existed. The platform was wobbling like crazy, all the other placebos had fallen off long ago.


    The giant corpse, the Swordsman, was unbothered by the constant movement, and walked across the floor as if it was stable.


    She heard the voice of Clive, whispering from someplace far too near ¡°That''s right. Stay right there. It was always gonna end with you on the floor, Devon, ready to die.¡± There was a blur behind him, moving rapidly from side to side, almost mocking the Swordsman''s slow and steady stride. He raised his sword, the spike from the floors center. ¡°Don¡¯t move, eh?¡±


    At that moment three things happened.


    The first thing: Devon did move. She had Adam launch himself at the hands, the swordsman fumbled with his sword. The inertia of the act threw Devon to the wall.


    The second thing: Tremble (who else?) was the blur, and she pounced on the Swordsman, screaming and shooting spikes everywhere as she clawed and clawed, showing the corpse a concerning amount of anger.


    The third thing: The disc finally stabilizing, announced by a chorus of sparks as its wobbling sides slowed then stopped. After one final shake, it became like an elevator. Still descending, but at a slower more manageable rate.


    Devon fell to the ground, and was surprised to find there was less space to fall than she expected. She moved away from the sparking edges, and put a hand up.


    The giant Swordsman was being bothered by Tremble, good. His weapon, the spike, had been dropped, great. And Adam was back in her hand, feeling more at home than ever.


    ¡°I have a plan.¡± She said, running forward.


    ¡±No¡­ no you don¡¯t.¡± Clive countered. He was in her mind too, but Adam quickly overpowered him, till the feelings and patterns that were the Constants felt like distant memories.


    ¡°If this backfires, we¡¯ll be at a considerable disadvantage.¡±


    ¡°If we don¡¯t do this,¡± Devon said, now halfway across the disc, full sprint, ¡°We¡¯re fucked.¡±


    She had come to the spike, rolling in a circle. The Swordsman was too distracted by Tremble, but a few stray strings decided to hassle her. They were dealt with quickly. She stopped at the spike¡¯s tip and wrapped her hands around a part about 10 inches wide. With a grunt she squatted low, feet shoulders width apart and toes turned outward.


    ¡±How much power do you need?¡± Adam asked. Devon¡¯s heart was beating, the spike was massive, bigger than her, almost comparable to Hailien.


    ¡°All of it, supercharge my organs, overclock my heart, I¡¯m gonna knock him into next week.¡±


    The effect was instantaneous.


    She felt like she had gone through another six months of training in six seconds. Her body felt strong, all of her muscles were bursting at the seams, barely constrained by the limits of her skin. Slowly, she brought the spike up until it was level with her pounding chest. With a grunt, careful not to fall, she rotated her torso and bought the giant weapon back.


    She breathed deep, gripped the spike tightly, and jumped.


    The Swordsman threw Tremble off. His stump tilted upward. ¡°Oh, how the fuck are you-¡°


    Suspended in the air, 12 feet above the slowly sinking ground, Devon swung the metal top like a bat, and her body moved with it. It connected beautifully, straight to the neck. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The Swordsman went reeling, his neck hanging back at an odd angle. He took a few drunken steps back involuntarily. Devon was back on the ground, the adrenaline and Adam combined meant she was still holding the spike, even if the weight was destroying her arms. It felt like her bones were breaking from the strain, Grand, she could hear the cracks, her whole body was falling apart.


    ¡±Now''s the time to let go, Devon¡± Adam appeared in front of her, blocking the view of the wounded Swordsman, holding onto the wall and clutching its chest.


    She shook her head, no, she had to finish it. Her will pushed through the pain. Any broken bones or permanent injuries could be addressed afterwards. She wasn¡¯t a coward, she had to prove that. She had to fucking prove that.


    Kill the coward in your head.


    A blunt hit to her abdomen. The Swordsman had removed his hand in a desperate attempt to grab her. Poor choice, Clive wasn¡¯t good at this.


    Kill the coward in your body.


    She kneecapped him, and he fell down accordingly. Clive hadn¡¯t realized how fragile this body was. No, it wasn¡¯t that, it was just that¡­ meat is soft. It¡¯s easy to tenderize.


    Kill the coward in your spirit.


    ¡±Devon, your body-¡°


    ¡°Shut it¡± A quick kick to the knees. Who said she was tired? She had never felt better. Her blood was roaring, her veins were razors that cut through any doubt. She should only live like this, forever. The spike didn¡¯t feel like weight, it felt like an extension.


    She slammed the spike down on the Swordsman¡¯s neck. It deflated like a condiment filled balloon. The blood was weird and goopy. Guess blood goes bad, Devon thought. She landed and threw the spike away. It barreled through the wall.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Devon, but I have to detach.¡±


    Suddenly, the pain was all there was.


    She had just experienced ten minutes worth of exhaustion, pushing her body to the limits. Vital moments of pain that should have served as warning signs had been dulled. Not anymore.


    The eternity of pleasure was now an eternity of agony.


    It fucking sucked shit.


    ¡­


    The screams of the city was a warm blanket for Morgan Lemure. When he got scared, when he grew confused, he could always count on that sound. It was white noise that made it clear that he mattered, that he was important. For those screams were for him, the man who views himself (but who we do not truly know or think of as) Morgan Lemure. They were fighting for him.


    But recently the screams had become dim.


    After such an exciting time, filled with fights and fire, a chaos that was cleansing, even Death herself paying a visit, things were dying down.


    And yet the man still had the fear of the other, the terrifying feeling that the man with the permanent sneer was around, his evil still biting into dozens (no, perhaps hundreds) of the wretches in Gutworth.


    And then one day, when he turned his ear to the city


    ¡±It¡­ it¡¯s stopped.¡±


    41, usually so good at pampering him and attending to his needs, was busying himself with some screen.


    ¡±41¡­ the fights are still on¡­ the honor of being in my¡­ personal liege.¡±


    ¡±They are.¡± He flipped the screen off, it descended into the floor. ¡°The problem is, no one¡¯s around anymore.¡± He turned to Lemure, his expression oddly serious.


    Metal supports stuck out like the ribs of a decaying corpse.


    Above them, a host of float rats took off from their perch on the half finished roof.


    Yes, the bad ones were gone, that awful harlot nurse, that strangely dense dame, but in their stead were hundreds of people devoted to him, desperate to be part of his legacy, they couldn¡¯t have all died.


    ¡°Where¡­ where did they go?¡±


    ¡±Some went to Luminescia, others went to the Helot.¡± He was moving around the room like a fussy busybody, a sight quite like that nurse.


    He was collecting things in a mad dash, putting items that were his and items that were Morgan¡¯s in a large bag.


    ¡°Others simply hitched a ride on boats, so buoyed by national fervoer they sought further violence on foreign soil. But as whole, when you ask people to fight to the death for a warlord who himself,¡± he pointed at Morgan ¡°iIs dying, most simply reject the proposition.¡±


    He didn¡¯t know what to say. His harness shook as he breathed in and out, feeling a rage he could not physically impress. ¡°What¡­ where are you going then? Are you getting me-¡°


    ¡±How perceptive, it¡¯s aware like postmodernism¡± The man turned to him, wearing that damned blindfold. ¡°I¡¯m done with being lost in the funhouse. It was fun, and I accomplished- well, not everything, but most of what I wanted. But, you see, Death can¡¯t dance with her favorites.¡±


    He peered out the window, unnecessary as there was a giant hole in the wall just a few feet to his left. ¡°It¡¯s chaos, my friend, but not the fun kind. It¡¯s like a college party that¡¯s still going at 3 AM, campus security is gonna show up any minute now. Among other factions.¡±


    Morgan shifted his weight, suddenly intrigued. ¡±Campus security, what is ¡°campus security¡±? Are they another Killing Game? What do you mean by a party?¡±


    ¡±Don¡¯t trouble yourself old timer, It¡¯s all just bullshit from my hometown. I¡¯m from a very different context.¡± He smiled, ¡°By the by, my name is Montanna.¡±


    The name meant nothing to him.


    41 stood patiently, seeming to wait for a reaction he did not get. With a shrug, he turned and made to leave.


    ¡±Please 41¡­¡± He motioned to the cabinet, with its drugs. The black ones held the stuff that killed him, the white ones held the stuff that killed the Wyrm, he needed a shot. ¡°Don¡¯t leave me in this state.¡±


    Remembering his place, 41 nodded and opened the cabinet. His hand was over the white vials, but he did not touch them.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m basically broke.¡±


    ¡±As¡­ as the head of my new guard, nothing will be out of reach for you. If you stay here, anything in the city can and will be yours. Please.¡± There was bile in his throat.


    41 took the white vials quickly. What luck, his words had gotten through. He walked over to Lemure, smiled, and then proceeded to take out his already bursting bag, and add the vials to its bulk.


    ¡°You know, Wyrm suppressants are pretty rare, they pay a pretty penny for them ¡° He turned, taking in the gnarled view. ¡°The pennies here are ugly. I don¡¯t know where you make them or where you get them, but they always have imperfections and stink of soiled water.¡± He took one out of its vial. Instead of using a top, as one was supposed to, he unscrewed the cap and downed it in one gulp, ¡°tastes bad.¡±


    No. This¡­ this wasn¡¯t what a 41 was supposed to do.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m not like you. Don¡¯t have Wyrms up to my eyes, though I have plenty of problems, but the taste¡­ I really like the taste.¡± He smiled, and his teeth were stained with darkness. ¡°Be seeing you.¡±


    ¡°No¡­ you can¡¯t leave me, you can¡¯t-¡° The carriage shook as Lemure tried to get out of it. It was a stubborn thing, but it had grown rusted over the years through time and lack of care. The carriage¡¯s harness snapped, and he came down with it, his tired body snapping and then burning up into a ball at 41s feet. Lemure shivered slightly, he had expended all his energy, he should have questioned it when 41 demanded he get back in it. He was a fetus, and above him stood his world.


    ¡°Anyway, be seeing you,¡± the blindfolded man said.


    This was no 41, this was a traitor, like all the others. He yelled as much as his vocal chords could handle, but it was so weak even his eardrums could barely pick it up.


    The man waved back as he left, and shut the door behind it. It broke from its hinges and landed with a thud. Everything was falling apart.


    How appropriate.


    Lemure curled his fingers, clawing useless nails into the well worn leather straps. They said it was the other way around, victory from the jaws of defeat, no. Defeat was a Wyrm. It lurked out of sight, watching you grow fat on your successes, less alert thanks to hubris. When victory seemed as simple as a walk up the stairs, it would be there, jaws ready, at the last rotted step.


    He pounded the floor. It did nothing but bring him pain. He did it again, same result.


    ¡°I will let you kill me, if you drink of my blood.¡±


    That was what the Wyrm had said.


    He repeated those words, in the same reverent tone he had repeated them so many times past. The Wyrm would have killed him, and it seemed a small price for the fame and success that followed.


    But then his eyes began to itch.


    He went to doctors, benefactors, soothe sayers. Their diagnosis were either useless or pandering. None of them could explain to him why his eyes were turning black.


    But on the suggestion of a man he would kill a week later, he read up on Wyrms, just in case the blood had caused it. Lemure didn¡¯t know anything about Wyrms. Why would he ever need to? He didn¡¯t expect much to come of it, but wanted to prove to the man that it was a preposterous idea and make him feel dumb for even suggesting it.


    And then he found a book. ¡°In Gehenna, There is Death: A Guide to the New Ailments¡±


    On Page 172, Paragraph 3: ¡°A Wyrm¡¯s reproductive cycle is as terrifying as it is slow. Its blood cells double as gametes, reproductive cells that can become embryos if they¡¯re exposed to a fertilization agent. Disturbingly, the body of most living beings serve as that fertilization agent. Anyone who consumes a Death Wyrms blood will unknowingly become an incubator. The earliest signs are usually an itching behind one''s eye-¡°


    He found a second book, ¡°These Things Can Think: The Recovered Notes of Expedition Team Achiah¡±


    Page 12, Paragraph 2: ¡°Once conscious, the tadpole form of the Wyrm will remain in their host body for over a hundred years (see our autopsy of one of the local megafauna). That said, we estimate total control over the host takes significantly less time. Perhaps only 10 to 20 years. Hosts will probably experience larger and larger gaps in their memory, as the tadpole gets stronger and more adept at taking control temporarily. The local baron tells us he bathes in Wyrm blood, whether or not this speeds up the incubation process remains to be-¡°


    And then a third book, ¡°A History of the Wyrm Lords¡±


    Page 57, Paragraph 5: ¡°And nay, they do not tell us that their mother was cthonic. They lie and say they are the men and woman we know. But they are not, they have been taken over and if they smile you see their spires. The Wyrms all take on their flesh¡¯s identity, and only those closest to Adam can tell the difference. You can hear the poor victim, screaming through the skin.¡±


    After that, he avoided the more populated cities. The ones with those who read esoterically and often. They would notice the signs before him. They would ask questions that he could not adequately explain. One missing scholar wouldn¡¯t be notice, but seven?


    He and his legion were reduced with time, and had to move from town to town, favoring the most reclusive and hideaway backwater whenever possible.


    They were not helped by the fact that the Wyrm was growing stronger. The cloak of Wyrm skin that he had once been proud to wear was now like a prison to him. And yet he could not stand to be without it, some awful need from the Wyrm that had become his own.


    By the time they had reached Gutworth, he was in control less often than he was dark. The Wyrm Suppressant, once in easy supply, dried up. He never got a clear answer from those that should have been loyal to him as to why.


    One day, he woke up to faces he didn¡¯t recognize. Six people he had no knowledge of, who told him he had made them his Constants.


    This was no concept that came from him. The only Constant was him, he needed no true heirs because he was immortal. The legacy was an extension of him, his Numbers not worthy of distinct immortality.


    That was the moment that he realized the army that served in his name was no longer his, but the Wyrm.


    Everything after that was a blurred disappointment.


    ¡­


    Days passed. No, weeks. No, months? Maybe minutes.


    All he knew is that when those familiar white shoes came into his vision, there was no longer silence, there was cheering.


    Cheering. Victory! Success. The enemy had been killed. They were cheering that he still lived, the Wyrm still a prisoner within himself (this he knew because he was still Lemure, and not the Wyrm that called itself Lemure).


    Another pair of shoes followed. ¡°Grand, this is fucking bad.¡± Said a harsh voice, like grinding stone. ¡°I think he¡¯s dead, for real this time.¡±


    Not dead. Not dead. With effort he looked up from the floor.


    It was her, that dame with muscles, body like tanned leather and a flat head. Besides her was the evil nurse, and behind them both was an imposing man that reminded him of himself in his youth. He was wearing the clothes of a dock worker, so a much lower class. What gave him the right to be here?


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m still here.¡± He said, every word dripped saliva.


    ¡°Yes, you are.¡± The nurse said. Despite his trepidation, he had every reason to hate her, her return seemed promising. Maybe she had been forced back here by the enduring public. Word had gotten out at how he was treated. ¡°We¡¯ve waited too long, fuck the consequences, lets kill the other for good. Johann, get the vial.¡± The dockworker went to retrieve them. Looking directly at Lemure, she said ¡°This city deserves a true leader.¡±


    It did! His hands clenched into tiny triumphant fists. The dock worker went to retrieve them. His bulk hid the contents from him, but Lemure knew with certainty they were picking the white one, the Wyrm suppressant. He knew some of it must still remain. This would be it, they would finally defeat the Wyrm. They had all realized their mistakes.


    ¡±Hold tight.¡± The nurse said kindly. She rubbed his head, paying special attention to his eyes, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry we abandoned you, we didn¡¯t think Montanna would betray us. But it¡¯s okay, we collected enough that you should finally be rid of him.¡±


    He hated them for it, but he forgave them.


    He tried to speak, but it came out as a slurred ¡°thank¡± and nothing more. He didn¡¯t have the energy to say the last word. The dock worker had returned with a empty syringe, far bigger than any he had been given before, and it was placed on his neck as he poured something in. Lemure closed his eyes and smiled.


    The man who thought of himself as Lemure did not notice that the fluid being injected into him was black.


    And then he was no more.


    All that remained was the Wyrm.

 Chapter 33: A Room to Remember what the Sky Looked Like

    ¡°Hello, Tremble¡­ is that still the name you respond to?¡± The Wyrm was staring out of a gaping hole in his penthouse suite.


    ¡±Of course it is,¡± she wiped pink blood from her shoulder, slightly insulted.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± The Wyrm stayed transfixed on the city, his mother¡¯s skin pulsing in a rhythm that humbled them both., ¡°I think you would prefer something more suitable. Now that you¡¯re-¡°


    He rotated his hand all the way around. A crack. Then a sound like the crack in reverse when he turned it back.


    ¡°Did you see the way I fought?,¡± she said, for a moment unguarded, ¡°I¡¯ve never bit into a person before, I didn¡¯t know they tasted like crawl cow.¡±


    ¡±It¡¯s the other way around,¡± he finally turned to face her, his eyes black with white pupils. ¡°I did see you. You were very good. You use the Needle well.¡±


    She could have done a somersault, or a backflip, it was what her hands and feet itched for, but would that be viewed as childish? She decided instead to put a hand to her chest and kneel, saying ¡°I am a humble servant of a higher power. That of The Wyrm. All of my successes are yours, all of my failures a fault of mine alone. I will be your aberration, and I will preach with teeth and convert with claws.¡± What made her happy is most of it she really did believe.


    The Wyrm stared at her, unblinking. He wrinkled his nose, thoughthrough she couldn¡¯t smell anything that would offend. ¡°Where do you get that from?¡±


    ¡±Why, you of course,¡± she said.


    She felt a question reach his lips, but he made the strange decision not to ask it. A shame, she would have answered it.


    But, the sudden empty space was an opportunity.


    ¡±So¡­ there¡¯s you and the false Morgan.¡±


    ¡±If that is the name you and the others use, then yes.¡±


    The question came out like a blown gasket.


    ¡±Years ago, me and my sisters-¡°


    And she told him what Morgan had done to them. Why and how her sisters died. It was hard not to get emotional. She had killed them, on Morgan¡¯s command.


    ¡±Was that you, or the imposter?¡± She was breathing heavilyheavy. Suddenly she feared she couldn¡¯t take the answer.


    He bowed his head and sighed. ¡°That was me.¡±


    She smiled, relieved, ¡°Oh thank Ggrand.¡± She went for a hug, and embraced him with all her strength.


    It was the second happiest day of her life.


    ¡­


    Tremble took a moment to familiarize herself with the current situation. It¡¯s what Lemure- no, she must respect him, and attribute him properly, the Wyrm had taught her.


    She was outside, no, that was impossible. They had fallen so far. They were down so deep. But yet her eyes could not lie. There was a bright blue sky, clouds, smiling faces in the cloud,


    Smiling faces in the clouds


    Concrete streets, manicured yards, and two story houses. And people, so many people.


    They were lucky this place was so massive. Their disc had landed in the middle of the town square, and they hadn¡¯t hit anything important.


    Well, except for the fountain, now jutting out from below the platform, spewing water that had long ago gone bad, but she didn¡¯t really care about that.


    There were mailmen, going from box to box, vendors selling food to passing pedestrians, Tremble as a child, kneeling over her sister¡¯s corpses,


    Tremble as a child, kneeling over her sister¡¯s corpses.


    No, the last one wasn¡¯t real. She closed her eyes hard. When she opened, the sight was gone.


    She looked up at the sky. The faces were still there.


    The townsfolk didn¡¯t seem to care or even notice their sudden entrance. It was like a dream, this place. They had no built in threat response. No way of knowing that Tremble was the apex of this here food chain.


    If she chose, she could claw all of them. She could- fuck. She had gone to make a fist, and found that she was back in her human form.


    While she liked this form (she was far fitter than she was before, almost comparable to Devon) her Needle form was who she truly was. A fucking monster, a beast that others could either follow or run from.


    She pointed to the mailman, shifting only her face into her true form. Her teeth multiplied and filled empty space. ¡°This is my kingdom, all who oppose me oppose the mandate of Shamayim¡±


    She watched as the mailman tripped over the side of the platform. He corrected himself well, but never acknowledged her. Just went about his business.


    Placebo, certainly. How disappointing. At least she didn¡¯t have to worry if any of them got killed.


    What a waste. The town was just boring. Here on the disc was where the action was.


    All she cared about was-


    *flick*


    *flick* *flick*


    Devon. Cool, hard, used to be a meaningless little match of a girl Devon.


    Devon, looking great in a fighting stance. Devon, staring ahead, Adam (treacherous Adam) in her hand. Every so often she would do a quick jab, bringing the small remark forward in a scooping motion.


    *flick* *flick*


    It was a goad. Well so be it, this was as good a place as any for a fight. It was quite a pretty place to die. Not what Devon deserved but Tremble would be kind.


    She approached in a combat pose of her own. Left arm changed into its true potential and held at the ready.


    The disc was at an incline and she had to go low to the ground as she moved down. The closer she got the better she could make out Adam, talking incessantly in his whining voice with that implacable accent.


    ¡°Devon, you need to wake up. Devon, I¡¯m sensing hostility from Tremble. I think she might be planning to attack us.¡±


    ¡°I am planning to attack you.¡±


    Adam sputtered and laughed. ¡°Oh great, now she¡¯s talking to herself. She just announced intent. Devon, I know you¡¯re still in here, I would rather not fight her on my own, it would be great if you-¡°


    ¡°What, is she stunned or something?¡± Tremble came forward, getting as close as she could without being in range.


    ¡°How can you hear me?¡±


    She shrugged. Devon attacked her, or the space right in front of her. The action was automatic. This wasn¡¯t a call for battle, it was a reflex. Like a twitch one does when they¡¯re dreaming


    Her sisters would keep her up all night with their twitching. Once they were dead, she would finally get some shut-eye. And yet, sleep never came easy. How could that be?


    ¡°An explanation is due.¡± Adam wiggled out of Devon''s grip and approached Tremble at head level.


    She laughed. ¡°Look at you¡± There was something so amusing about a Remark trying to act like a person. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time Adam, you great Idea that will kill Morgan dead. Too bad he¡¯s senile and useless now. Never even in control. I assume your wanton slaughter has continued.¡±


    ¡±It has...¡± Adam said, his tone unsure.


    She gestured to Devon. ¡°Why her?¡±


    The statuesque cretin was still jabbing at the air.Stolen story; please report.


    ¡±I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡°Was I not good-¡° She stopped herself.


    Don¡¯t be too desperate, don¡¯t be too obvious. Her Contrarians Needle was a great leveler. It balanced out her worst traits and saved her from embarrassment.


    ¡°Adam, it strikes me as a foolish choice to pick her as a vessel. I expected better, that''s all.¡±


    It said and expressed nothing. That was one thing it had in common with Adams previous body, the lack of any discernible emotion.


    ¡±If you say so.¡± His battered glass front turned and floated back to Devon.


    Tremble felt like she had lost. She was not a person who deserved such a feeling. Not anymore


    Wanting to beat Adam, she ran up to Devon and pushed her.


    Devon suddenly sprung to life. She gripped Tremble''s arm and sent her to the ground.


    She righted herself and scuttled away. Adam did a loop in the air and fell into Devon''s waiting hand. Her eyes still shone with that same far off intensity, but her body was alive. Shoulders stretching, legs balanced on toes bouncing gently up and down.


    ¡±Devon¡­ how are you?¡±


    Devon still didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid she¡¯s still not back yet, not fully.¡± Tremble got up slowly while Adam buzzed around Devon, her hand pulsed and gripped down anytime Adam got close. ¡°Her vitals are good, reflexes, as you demonstrated, fantastic. But mentally her mind is,¡± he shuddered, ¡°she¡¯s stuck in a Mallory Loop.¡±


    ¡°A Mallory what?¡± Her left hand, still transformed into its much preferable clawed form, played with the emptiness around it. Devon¡¯s body seemed to follow the motion, swaying in time, but her eyes remained utterly detached.


    ¡±It was coined long ago. Named after the first Sufferer. What I can do as a Remark is not necessarily unique, but my ability to function independently of my user very much is. When I take on the pain of Devon''s body, it¡¯s like holding my breath. I can only do so for a limited time.¡±


    kids flying kites passed to their left. With no wind their box kites trailed limply behind them.


    ¡°When I inevitably release all of it, it opens the user''s brain to all the pain I had blocked for them all at once. It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s quite.¡± He hovered in front of Devon''s face, wobbling slightly. ¡°I was overzealous, Devon. You have every right to hate me.¡±


    The weakling couldn¡¯t handle pain, and somehow Adam felt like he was at fault. She scoffed. ¡°What a shame that she wasn¡¯t up for it. Such a powerful, truly special duelist, cut down in her prime. Now, should I put her out of her misery, or will you do the honors?¡±


    ¡±What?¡± He shuddered and fell a few feet, regaining composure before he hit the ground. ¡°She¡¯s fine. We just need to give her a little push. Her mind is in a constant loop right before I took over in our fight. So she¡¯s bracing for a battle that has already happened.¡±


    ¡°Should I fight her?¡± Tremble said, nodding her head at her own suggestion. ¡°That would get her out of it.¡±


    ¡±The opposite actually, we need to make it clear to her that the fighting¡¯s over, we need to right her perception. Snap her out of it with something unexpected.¡± His point tilted from Tremble to Devon, then back to Tremble. ¡°You¡¯ll need to do it¡±


    ¡°Why not you?¡±


    ¡±Because I¡¯m too familiar to her, she¡¯s dimly aware of me right now, but only dimly, so my words are like white noise to her. Within her perception, me, as she puts it, ¡°yammering on¡± is normal. You¡¯re-¡° He struggled for the word, she didn¡¯t understand why he wouldn¡¯t just call her a friend, ¡°You¡¯re not someone she¡¯d expect to have reached out in this situation.¡±


    She sighed, fair enough. ¡°Excellent, excellent. I have experience in verbose exultations. What do I say exactly?¡±


    ¡°Center her. You were neighbors, right? Remind her of that, think of a nice memory, something that will slowly bring her back to the present. A calm, peaceful present.¡±


    It would be easy enough. Sure young Devon had never seemed to like her, for some reason, and most of her memories involved hiding from her, or stowing away notes and watching Devon read them at a distance, but that in itself was a relationship.


    Around them the mood of the Placebos had changed. They were acting more sluggish, slower in their movement. Tremble thought she saw something long and black slither behind a building, but convinced herself she didn¡¯t. Clive was dead, thank Grand.


    ¡°Hello Devon! Your cherubic and messianic pal Tremble here, already saved your life once today, Grand be praised, and I¡¯m about to save it again.¡± She shouted. Devon continued to stare forward, her limbs itching for violence.


    ¡°Do you remember when we were kids, and we went out fishing together?¡±


    Around them, placebos were pulling others to the back of buildings. There were those who had their standard routine, and others who had seemed to be gripped with a new purpose, manhandling the others with gusto and moving them by force. A tall placebo took confused children in hand, still trying in vain to fly their kites. The corpse slumped above them leaked expired fluid.


    ¡°Well, we weren¡¯t together. Separate boats, your father in one and my mother and me in the other. We had been given nets and finally, instead of just endlessly watching, it was our turn to fish that day.¡±


    ¡±Tremble, I would suggest you hurry up, something is happening.¡± The courtyard was now empty, the ambient noises of the Placebo were absent. Above them the smiling faces of children seemed far more malicious. She had seen those smiles before.


    She had seen those smiles before


    ¡±You caught a big one, a singtrout. With beautiful scales, and a voice like a bell.¡±


    She smiled at the memory, it had been nice to see. The absence of the Placebos didn¡¯t bother her, things felt safer with them gone. But the faces in the sky, she suddenly remembered where she had seen them before.


    The smirks. The faces of her sisters, treating her existence like a shared joke. Looking back on the memory now, she realized she had no reason to be nostalgic.


    ¡°But I spotted that singtrout first. It swam under my moms boat, and I was about to throw out the net, but she stopped me. ¡°We need to be courteous of others, let Anthony¡¯s son throw out a net, he just got his untangled.¡± She said this part in a falsetto far removed from her mothers actual voice. ¡°And guess which fish *you* caught Devon?¡±


    She looked for a reaction from Devon. Surely remembering such an awful unkindness would get her to snap back. But she stayed resolute. Her face was no longer unreadable, but clear. She had no regrets for what she did.


    ¡±Oh everyone fell over themselves to congratulate you on that catch, Devon. My mom gave you more praise than she ever bothered for me!¡± She knew her voice was becoming shrill, that her current attitude would only be envious to whiners, but she was caught in these emotions. Her sisters smiled down on her, shadows were forming. ¡°The worst possible thing, Devon being unhappy, we couldn¡¯t have that!¡±


    Devon¡¯s eyes twitched, she opened and closed her hands, as if begging for something to be inserted. Not good enough.


    ¡°Okay Tremble, you¡¯ve said enough.¡±


    ¡°But I haven¡¯t! I haven¡¯t and we both know it, she needs to know she¡¯s been coddled. Why? Grand knows, maybe you¡¯re sweet on her, maybe you felt pity. I¡¯d understand, it wouldn¡¯t be my problem that you hitched yourself to someone so blatantly dead on arrival. But I guess because you made her pack on some muscle you thought she¡¯d be a fair replacement.¡± Her claw motioned at the silent Devon, vibrating in stunned anger. ¡°Clearly you prostrate for the wrong girl, Adam!¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re going by that logic, then hear this, Tremble. You could not be trusted, you have already shown that today and while I didn¡¯t realize it at the time from the start you were trying to get me killed. The powers, this needle, it has only made you worse.¡±


    Tremble¡¯s back shuddered, the edges of her body pulsed and rose up like triangles. Tremble had to work very hard to remind herself that Adam was a weapon, and weapons couldn¡¯t be hurt, out of principle, and also just logically.


    ¡°I respected it at the time. I thought you shared my ideals and saw through a meaningless conflict. But no, you just lack something, it¡¯s not that you didn¡¯t want to do it, you just couldn¡¯t.


    She saw them out of the corner of her eye, a pile of her sisters. And sure, she had a lot of them, but the pile of corpses was massive, more improbable than its sudden appearance. So many of them she didn¡¯t recognize, they couldn¡¯t all be her sisters. And yet they all had her beautiful rose black locks.


    And yet they all had her beautiful rose black locks


    ¡°Whatever I lacked I have now.¡± She gave him a back flex, letting him see the sheer power in her form. ¡°Even with her training I know I could take her in a fair fight. Or even an unfair one.¡± She knew they weren¡¯t above dirty tricks. Unlike her.


    ¡±You were given your enhancements by people who don¡¯t care about you, and who will now surely hunt you down.¡± Tremble winced.


    ¡±You make no sense! Sure, even if all that was true!¡± She had cut off her sisters¡¯ hair because what use would they have for a corpse. ¡°It¡¯s not, of course it¡¯s not, but you haven¡¯t explained what makes her more qualified. Was it pity?¡± Her sisters forgot she existed, they thought she was just an exceptionally large piece of trash, deep under their beds. ¡°I bet it was pity, that is the only thing she¡¯s ever had, and she wields it like a weapon.¡± They lied through their teeth till the end.


    They lied through their teeth till the end


    ¡°I sensed that she was a good person, nothing else¡± There was a quiet waver in the last sentence that made Tremble smile. He was lying, he was a sister. ¡°And she has shown that again and again. I would never leave her, I have no reason to.¡±


    No. None of that was true.


    Laughing, she displayed her claws. She raised one and stretched it until it towered over Devon, giving her shade as she repeated that idiotic motion. ¡°Oh? She¡¯s a good person? Will she still be a ¡°good person¡± when I cut her throat and feast on her-¡°


    Devon was on Tremble, her body ferocious.


    Teeth clenched, she held Tremble down easily with one hand while the other made a sawing motion right above Tremble¡¯s neck, over and over again.


    It was the same sort of repetitiveness that she displayed in her comatose state, but her eyes were bloodshot and very much present now.


    She kept going, far past the point that she would have cut through bone if she was wielding a weapon.


    Adam floated into view behind her, his casual motions seeming to say ¡°I told you so¡±


    Too scared to move, Tremble held still as Devon¡¯s motions slowly ceased. She was powerless again in Devon¡¯s arms. Her breath stilled, her breathing slowed.


    Devon blinked. Some semblance of sense seemed to come back to her.


    Very slowly, she got up. Tremble risked a smile, and wiped away some wetness forming at the edge of her tear ducts.


    ¡±Hah! I knew that would bring you back.¡± She said, dusting herself off. ¡°It was all planned, see. I was trying to help you, that¡¯s all.¡±


    And then one of the Placebos ran at her with a broom.

 Chapter 34: POV:

    Things weren¡¯t looking good, 30 needed to distract himself. He checked out other views on his screen, views he often ignored.


    There in the food court a few refugees were messing with a placebo, stacking up plates as he went through his route. Harmless fun.


    Near the entryway a soaking wet man was stopping anyone who would listen, he held a flag that hung limply, a trail of water tracked his mad circles as he paced. Totally fine!


    In a balcony near the top of the spine, former reserve members were daring each other to balance on the railing to pass the time.


    To him this was all the model for what society could be.


    He turned his head right when the current ressy started to wobble. Onto the library.


    No one seemed that interested in the books themselves, but they had cleared out space to make a dueling arena. Nonlethal of course. He made a mental note to check this feed out later when he wasn¡¯t busy, it would be fun to watch.


    May as well check in on Hailien¡¯s group, how were they doing?


    From the view of a television: four figures stumbling about beneath dull red light, dragging behind them a fifth individual, bound but not gagged.


    The figures are too quick and he loses sight of them, on to a new view:


    Hailien shouts something back at their prisoner. He¡¯s just as tall as her, and both individual¡¯s sizes are highlighted by how dense and cramped these passages have become.


    It¡¯s clear they have been traveling for a while. The other three, all exhausted, see Hailien yelling at him, and view it as an invitation to finally acknowledge him.


    A third camera angle, more suitable for what is about to transpire: One of them, the larger of the two boys, cups hands to his ears and screams. Clearly mouths the words ¡°I can¡¯t take it anymore¡± and desummons his Remark, freeing the prisoner, his reason for doing so alarmingly clear.


    He runs at their prisoner. The prisoner, suddenly free, holds up a hand in a gesture of mercy.


    But then that large hand clamps down on the poor boy.


    The cameras don¡¯t pick up audio. He says something and the former prisoner summons his Remark, a massive weapon he wields effortlessly with one hand.


    He puts the weapon to the boy''s neck, but instead of a decapitation there is a transfer, the boy is now where the prisoner was, and the prisoner is in the boy''s spot.


    The Remark hangs in the air impossibly for a bit before clattering to the floor.


    This is all quite, as the youth would say, confusing. 30 shrugs, chalks it up to Tricks being Tricks, and changes the view before anything else transpires. How was Devon doing anyway?


    ¡­


    Dive trudged along dutifully, like a good crewmate.


    Even with their captive¡¯s never ending rant, he thought he was doing good acting like he wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡±The ¡®alls ¡®ill squeeze in¡­ now!¡± The man rasped, his accent uniquely interminable. ¡°The ¡®alls ¡®I¡¯ll squeeze in¡­¡­¡­NOW!¡± Dive jumped when the last word finally came.


    He signed to Collapse covertly, Hailien had made it clear they were not to talk back to him. ¡°What''s he¡¯s saying?¡±


    She frowned. ¡°I think he¡¯s trying to get the walls to crush us.¡±


    Dive certainly hoped not. But before he could respond he scraped his elbow on a rusty pipe.


    The sudden pain was enough to make him scream.


    His Remark flickered, for just a second. Not long enough for Spratz to escape, but enough to make him smile.


    Hailien turned her head back at the sound.


    Their prisoner laughed loudly, his constricted body shaking up and down like a fish on land. ¡°It¡¯s ¡®orking, it¡¯s ¡®orking! You¡¯ll all be crushed.¡± He tried to push his hands together to demonstrate, but Dive¡¯s Remark presented any movement more substantial than a twitch.


    Hailen held up a hand to halt their movement, and then walked over slowly. She positioned herself between Dive and the buzzing red alarm that coated the hallway in red. Her bulk devoured the hue.


    She snapped her finger, took out her Remark, and sliced Dive¡¯s hand off.


    Collapse was the only one to react appropriately. While she was terrified, Trip looked bored with the whole thing, and Spratz smiled like he had expected this.


    Another snap and his hand was back where it was supposed to be.


    Dive let out a weak gasp of joy that he knew sounded pathetic.


    He was on his own face like a reflex, feverishly letting himself confirm his hands return, leaving tactile scratches frantically, for if he was to stop he had no guarantee his hand wouldn¡¯t be cut off once again.


    ¡°You really, really, really, didn¡¯t need to do that,¡± Trip said, his wide lenses burning bright red. Collapse nodded.


    ¡°Ey dont ¡®isten to ¡®em.¡± Sprats barked, seeming miles away. ¡°The boy ¡®eeds to ¡®earn when to follow ¡®oders.¡±


    She hooked a finger in Spratz¡¯s direction. It made Dive flinch.


    ¡°You have a job to do, keep your focus up and keep your Remark on him,¡± She grasped his hand, her fingers like the feeling of waves at dawn. ¡°I reversed the damage by snapping my fingers.¡± She paused. ¡°That was a choice.¡±


    Without any care she brushed Dive aside. ¡°We keep moving!¡±


    They were back to walking in a straight line, wandering a hallway that seemed to get more and more narrow with every step.


    Spratz was singing a song now, an off tune one that registered as familiar, but was so hopelessly butchered Dive couldn¡¯t even guess what it was supposed to be.


    ¡°Is it hard?¡± Collapse signed, gesturing at Dive¡¯s razor wire Remark that imprisoned the giant.


    ¡°Yes.¡± It was all he could do to not desummon it on reflex. It felt like clenching your jaw, at first it was easy, but as the minutes turned to hours, you wanted nothing more than to be free of the burden.


    And at this point, it was a burden.


    ¡°You doing okay?¡± She signed. Referring, obviously, to the removal of his hand.


    ¡°I knew it was her trick. Heard Devon talk about it a lot,¡± Dive signed back, not looking her in the eyes. ¡°So¡­ I wasn¡¯t scared.¡±


    Collapse didn¡¯t respond for a long time.


    Finally she signed back in coldly, ¡°I would have been.¡±


    She left it at that.


    Spratz began singing.


    ¡°¡®Ere comes the casket man with a ¡®rand new baskit.¡±


    Collapse understood before Dive.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± she signed, ¡°just don¡¯t react.¡±


    Spratz was luxuriating in the song, stretching every syllable to the length of a stanza.


    ¡°¡®Watch ¡®ow the caskit man ¡®ill cause quite a rackit!¡±


    Hailien and Trip kept walking, focused on the goal of escaping this red tinted purgatory. But how? Had they deafened themselves in the last five minutes, why did they show no sign of distress?


    ¡°The Caskit Man ¡®ooses, you won¡¯t ¡®ave to beg.¡±


    Maybe he was the only one who could hear it, what it was really saying. It was a celebration. This man has killed his friend, and he was gloating about it. He hadn¡¯t seen her death, and that made it feel all the more awful. But he couldn¡¯t let this freak get to him. Plunge wouldn¡¯t have wanted that.


    ¡°Watch the Caskit Man push a bitch right over the-¡°


    That was it. He yelled something without realizing he did so, and lunged at the man, who in response opened his mouth in a wide toothless grin.


    That was when it all went wrong.


    The man was free now. Dive had unsummoned his Remark without realizing.


    The man touched him and he felt changed. Spratz Remark appeared like a death sentence and squeezed his neck flat. There was something happening to him, something irrevocable. The sword pressed deep on his neck but didn¡¯t cut flesh.


    No, he was horribly aware that Spratz could kill him now and was making a conscious choice not to. This was deliberate.


    Spratz calmly walked forward and presented Dive like a reward to his crewmembers, pointing forward.


    ¡°I give ¡®ou a choice you never gave me. Let me walk out of ¡®ere and the boy survives.¡± All three of them were staring not at Dive, yet their expressions were not ones of sympathy, but disgust. Dive couldn¡¯t understand it.


    ¡±They¡­ they switched places.¡± Trip said, obviously not true. He would have felt it.


    Dive stepped forward, hands raised.


    ¡±What''s this about, Spratz?¡±


    He stepped forward again. He needed them to know he was okay. Why was Trip looking at him like that?


    ¡­


    ¡±Don¡¯t move another inch, Spratz!¡±


    Dive remained in place, expression growing paler by the second.


    Spratz walked forward, his steps cautious and sullen for someone speaking so confidently.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Dive asked, his face confused, ¡°Spratz isn¡¯t moving at all?¡±


    Heading to Collapse, Spratz reached out with a disturbing familiarity.


    Trip stabbed him with his Remark in the legs. He was just trying to cripple him.


    Spratz''s body went strange and fell in a way it shouldn''t have been able to. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Once it hit the ground, his body and Dive¡¯s both shimmered, and changed.


    By the time Spratz laid dead, he wasn¡¯t Spratz anymore. He was Dive. He had always been Dive. It had been a fucking Trick.


    Trip screamed and ran to Dive¡¯s body, trying to rouse him. But it was pointless. He had stabbed Dive in the gut, thinking it was Spratz''s knee.


    Spratz, unharmed, laughed harshly, his voice like buzzing static through the lens of the camera.


    With a bow, the ogre of a man walked backwards into the red glow of the hall until the only thing visible were the white pinpricks of his eyes. No one followed him, they were still processing what Trip had done.


    The boy''s face was a prison of flesh, cratered by zits that would never fade. His eyes glazed and half closed. Trip¡¯s hands hesitated above them, debating whether not to shut them for good.


    ¡°Fuck¡­ fuck this¡­ this shouldn¡¯t have been¡­ it shouldn¡¯t have been him.¡±


    There was a hand on his shoulder and he jumped. There was Collapse, trying not to cry. She shimmied to the side and placed her hand in Trip¡¯s. With a solemn nod, they shut his eyes together.


    The red light above them flickered, then went out.


    They were getting far too used to this.


    ¡°Hey, hey!¡± Trip yelled as Hailien marched forward, ¡°Where the Grand are you going?¡±


    She turned slowly and looked straight through him. ¡°To avenge our fallen comrade.¡±


    From somewhere far away the mad laughter of Spratz echoed. His voice seemed to come from the hissing pipes themselves.


    ¡±No.¡± Trip said confidently. ¡°We can¡¯t- we can¡¯t keep going on like this.¡±


    Hailien cocked her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want him to kill any more of us,¡± she said flatly.


    ¡±Sidetracked.¡± Collapse signed with urgency. ¡°Kill the Constants.¡±


    ¡±The Constants are powerless and worship a dying despot. The man who killed our friends works for a power that is much larger than Lemure could ever be.¡± Hailien said, in a tone that sounded to Trip¡¯s ears of boredom. ¡°Have you heard of the one they call The Shadow of the Arch?¡±


    ¡±What?¡± Trip said. It wasn¡¯t a question for who that was, it was a question directed at the subject entirely. Why did he care? Why was she telling him this? Their friend had just died, what was this monologue?


    Hailien looked at her hand, flipping it over and over again. ¡°She has been eying this town for a while, a expansionist without mercy or reason, those two were agents for her, I believe. As is anyone you see with a purple-¡°


    ¡°Dive died!¡±


    ¡°I met her once, she will eat the world if it¡¯s offered to her on a platter.¡± Hailien continued. It was like he didn¡¯t exist.


    ¡±Did you hear, our friend-¡°


    ¡±His killer is getting away. Is that what you want, Trip?¡± She hooked a finger in the direction Spratz had ran, his laughter now only an echo. ¡°For this man to run free?¡±


    Collapse signed something Trip didn¡¯t see. Like it or not Hailien had his full attention. He looked down at his feet. ¡°I¡¯m done.¡±


    She flinched. Finally something had gotten through that dense head of hers. ¡°We owe it to him, as we do Dive and Stumble.¡±


    Collapse bought out her card reluctantly. There was her former name written in cursive letters, a punch card detailing three years of misery, and there, right in the bottom, Hailien¡¯s stamp, which freed them from their indentured slavery.


    The vow they had all made to her, it now seemed more like a debt. Freed from one commitment only to be shackled to another.


    ¡±The holes don''t owe me anything.¡± Trip said. ¡°Neither do you.¡± He tore up the punch card. With some annoyance he realized he should have done this years ago.


    He tapped Collapse on the shoulder and gestured towards the body of their friend. With a grunt of effort on the count of three they were able to lift him. Trip grabbing his legs. Collapse his shoulders.


    ¡±What are you doing?¡± Hailien asked.


    ¡±Trying to find a place to give him a decent funeral, do you want to join us?¡±


    Hailien said nothing.


    ¡°Huh, I guess not.¡±


    One of the pipes burst and gas shot into the air, temporarily blinding Trip. When it dissipated, Hailien was no longer there, though he could hear the sound of her Remark dragging across the harsh metal floor.


    ¡±Let''s go.¡± The two of them slowly walked with Dive¡¯s body through the opposite direction, the sound of metal on metal getting quieter until it and the hiss of the burst steam pipe was one.


    ¡­


    Adam didn¡¯t enjoy being in the placebo¡¯s head.


    Killing someone by going straight through their brain was (pardon the pun) a no-brainer. It was straight to the point, the exact level of tact and grace appropriate for an art as disrespectful in its nature as killing. But the placebos head was bereft of all but flesh, no brain or sensory organs. It was horrifying being in there. It was like opening a door, expecting a floor, only to find a bottomless pit.


    He zipped back into Devon''s hand, her grip always comforting.


    ¡°Lets hold back on aiming for the head.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡± Devon said, as she casually sliced him through a charging placebo, the being fell in two neat disconnected sides.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing there for us.¡± He used the moments before the next attack to observe the now prone placebo. The slicing in half had rendered it harmless, each half lamely lying inert. ¡°Slicing off their limbs, or themselves in half, seems to do wonders.¡±


    She smiled, he felt her gut going into overdrive as its serotonin production was doubled. He didn¡¯t even have to do anything this time.


    Wham! A large placebo, two and a half normal placebos tall, dented the concrete with a triangular sign that signaled (in simple pictograms) the consequences of littering. Devon hopped back and threw Adam. He dutifully rocketed through the left arm.


    The big one attacked again, this time the impact sent the gravel unearthed by the first attack flying. Adam caused Devon to put up a hand, couldn¡¯t have her blinded.


    He came back around to finish the job. The second arm fell off like the limb of a tree before he could attack again. The big placebo yelled and collapsed, its busy eyes now clear and confused. It mouthed words it did not have the sounds for.


    ¡±Behind you¡± Adam had slipped back into Devon''s waiting palm.


    Her elbow jerked back and Adam went straight through the neck of the stunned placebos, halting its momentum.


    Still in her grip, Devon''s reach wasn¡¯t sufficient enough to complete the job, so Adam reached out. It wasn¡¯t far, a few inches out from her hand. He severed the neck from the body.


    They had gotten their share of the placebos, Tremble was working on her own quota. She was fighting five of them at once, seeming to have no problem but delighting in the viscerality. The ones she fought were full of holes and slashes she created, and yet they still stood.


    It felt needlessly cruel, why not kill them fast and quick? He knew Devon wasn¡¯t doing it out of any love, but he appreciated how to the point she was.


    ¡±Lets leave her to it¡± Adam said, ¡°I¡¯m sure there''s an exit here. We¡¯ll meet back up with the others, and-¡°


    ¡°Vetoing that.¡± She gestured at the placebos, still coming out from behind the many houses.


    Each one had a piece of string on their person. For some it was tied around a limb, so tight as to cut off circulation, for others it was sticking out of their body, hanging limp as they toddled forward.


    The strings were familiar.


    He buzzed an alternative emotion to the viciousness she offered. Contentment, living to see another day.


    ¡°We let her finish the job, this isn¡¯t our fight.¡±


    Devon exhaled sharply, almost a cough. ¡°You told me yourself I should have killed Clyde when I had the chance.¡± In her mind, Adam was surrounded on all side by her derison, she wanted him to feel weak in there, outnumbered by her own assurance.


    ¡±You went into shock less than a minute ago. You¡¯re in no shape.¡± He let out a yelp as he was suddenly put to use, his hyper honed reflexes borrowed for a microsecond, ¡°DEVON!¡±


    She paused. They had traveled five meters in a few seconds.


    One hand was outstretched, gripping a now whimpering placebo. In the other, she held a black piece of string, a part of Clive no doubt. It went up in smoke in her hand.


    ¡°He¡¯s just string now, it shouldn¡¯t take long. I don¡¯t even¡­¡± She paused, a sudden dull pain in the head overtaking them both, ¡°-I don¡¯t even feel bad.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Just don¡¯t overdo it.¡±


    ¡°Easy to do when you don¡¯t have to.¡± She said in a sing-songy tone.


    There was a surge of adrenaline, followed by a surge of dopamine, as Devon went into a sprint, using him to go from body to body, rendering each harmless in one slice or two.


    She bounced from one target to the other, always zeroing in on the strings, always succeeding. She was following their trail, going against their current as they streamed out from alleys and crashed through picket fences.


    They had gone through four blocks now, the crowd of placebos were thinning.


    The next one was a woman trying to bludgeon them to death with a watering can.


    Adam was prepared to give her a painless death, but Devon tossed him aside. From a vantage point on the dirt. Devon disarmed the woman, then gently lowered her to the ground, soothing her with kind words before ripping the dangling string from her eye.


    The placebo closed her eyes. It seemed to be at peace.


    ¡±Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Oh how touching¡­ I¡¯m sure the automaton will appreciate the eternity you resigned her to,¡± someone said.


    A wheezy cough from their right. In a small fenced-in alley section behind a large white house sat what remained of Clive. He was out of his Needle form, making his lack of limbs and empty space where flesh should be all the more disquieting. The remains of a face attached to a bare torso.


    ¡°I got to see inside them, you know.¡± He tried to smile, there was a large part of his face missing, revealing exposed teeth and gums. Every few moments he would cough up string that lit up the grass around him in small controlled blazes.


    ¡°If you saw what I had felt, you would have realized that''s not quite a,¡± another cough that shook his whole body. ¡°Mercy.¡± A part of his shoulder collapsed to the ground like sand, it started a small fire on the grass before being put out by Clive¡¯s remaining hand.


    ¡°I did too. They¡¯re not thinking creatures, not in the way we are, that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re not entitled to life.¡± Devon approached him slowly.


    ¡±You have a funny way of showing that entitlement,¡± Clive said, ¡°you killed most of them.¡±


    As if sensing this was a raw nerve he suddenly changed expressions, and scooted closer to the fence he was already close to, until he was pressed into the paint.


    ¡°Anyway, you did them all a favor. Did you not sense them?¡±


    ¡±In what way?¡± Despite himself he was curious. Devon picked Adam up and gripped him hard, a sign that made clear he would be used sooner rather than later.


    Clive looked away from them, so the part of his face that was sans flesh was straight on.


    ¡°When my Trick took up residence, I was surprised to find there was someone else there. It was a voice that was as much a stranger in that body as I was. It was screaming when I let myself in. Pure unadulterated fear. And that wasn¡¯t because of me, every one of them was the same. They were in bodies that weren¡¯t their own, screaming to get out, and this was when I entered, let me remind you. They were all already possessed, or¡­ someone had possessed them with unwilling consciousness, I¡¯m not really sure. The thoughts I head were not happy ones. Anyway, they¡¯re automatons, but there''s someone at the wheel, an unwilling driver who can¡¯t do , and they can¡¯t slow down the bus¡­.¡± He looked up at Devon and gave her a knowing look. It wasn¡¯t meant for her. ¡°Don¡¯t you feel foolish?¡±


    Grand, he sounded so tired.


    Another few steps, Devon''s shadow covered Clive completely, ¡°Do you recognize me?¡±


    Clive looked at her, not understanding. ¡°The fuck do you mean by that?¡±


    ¡±Do you recognize me? The night on the pier, the man you murdered?¡±


    He smiled, seeming to get it. ¡°Oh yeah¡­ that was a fun night.¡± But then he frowned. ¡°I¡¯m confused. You¡¯re obviously not his kid, so why do you-¡°


    There was a crash. Three white fences beyond them, someone had broken through the sky.


    The blue of the atmosphere and white of the clouds fell in chunks that frazzled and cracked when they hit the ground. The walls of the neighborhood screens of some kind, an illusion that was now profoundly broken. The dust obscured whoever was responsible. But from Clive¡¯s cruel laugh, he seemed to know.


    He hit the ground and laughed. ¡°The cavalry¡­ the fucking cavalry!¡± he waved with his stub. ¡°Hello there- hello there, you old- you were right, she¡¯s a challenge, your-¡° he paused to cough up phlegmy strings, dark and ashy ¡°-your turn~¡±


    With a mad dash of strength he threw himself through the fence like a battering ram. With remarkable quickness despite his lack of limbs he skittered over the next two fences and was en route to the sight of the break in. Devon followed close, under her breath muttering curses Adam heard quite well.


    There were words in her brain that only made sense to deliver to Clive. she did not want to leave them unspoken. He felt the speech she had prepared, how every word had been chosen so carefully.


    He could see the shape now, it was a large being, like a giant orb with muscular limbs, Clive crawled towards it, but the thing was faster, trotting towards Clive with intent, and revealing it¡¯s identity quick enough for him to scream. They had seen the shape before, all three of them.


    Clive stopped his approach. He backed up, terrified.


    ¡°Karol¡­ I thought Jeavell would-¡°


    With a massive bloody hand, the beast that was Karol¡¯s Needle form ripped Clive¡¯s head clean off. What remained of his body fell lifelessly to the ground and flamed out into a fine black powder. Licking his lips with a wiry fork tongue, he opened his ponderous mouth, and ate Clive¡¯s head like it was an apple.


    Adam felt the words in Devon die along with Clive.


    Karol belched, and wiped the black from his lips with a napkin he pulled from nowhere. ¡°Of course. It tastes of soot and ichor, the Needle was wasted on him.¡± His beady little eyes looked up, he blinked twice. ¡°I wonder Devon, will you taste any better?¡±

 Chapter 35: The Gutter of Gutworth

    Like a predator who had no further use for its prey, Karol tossed the limp body of Clive aside.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t use your Remark. Not yet.¡±


    Devon had never listened to the people trying to kill her, and she wasn¡¯t going to start now. With a smirk she slid into a stance for killing tyrants, then ran at him at speeds inadvisable.


    Karol blocked the attack with a fleshy elbow and coughed out a laugh.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tire yourself.¡±


    Another attack, reckless and improvised, this one all Devon. It was aimed at his pupiless eyes. Without dignity Karol covered his head, hands taking superficial cuts.


    ¡°Oh, you really are a bother aren¡¯t you.¡± With head still covered he charged.


    Adam flew off in the opposite direction and Devon kept her grip. Her dangling feet burned across astroturf as she held on for dear life.


    ¡±Sorry, should have warned you, there was just no time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no time.¡± Devon said, struggling to speak. Far below them Karol was on his feet. It had taken him five backyards to realize this was pointless, and from a mad dash he had slowed into a mad saunter.


    The path he took was scorched earth, revealing a gooey pink substance underneath the fake grass. Devon didn¡¯t know much about dirt, but from her limited experience, it usually wasn¡¯t pink.


    ¡±Some distance will do us some good.¡± Karol¡¯s voice occupied her mind. The imprint of Adam shivered within it, not used to a new voice appearing so soon after the welcome eviction of Clive.


    The man, bestial and slovenly, snorted and turned away, retracing his steps.


    ¡±You¡¯re running?¡± Devon said, trying to provoke even as she dangled from Adam. ¡°Aw come on, did those scratches wound your ego? Is one little boo boo all it takes to bring down the Gutter of Gutworth?¡± She took a clump of green grass in her hand and tore it skyward. Beneath it was that pink substance. Reminded her of fish paste left in daylight. Slightly springy and very greasy.


    ¡°No. I¡¯m gathering ingredients.¡± Around him the remains of placebos rose again. Bodiless heads rolled after him, legless corpses dutifully crawled. Bodies bisected hopped arm and arm, separate beings now, but with a remembered kinship.


    Wasting no time, Devon flew down and was running as soon as she hit the ground. She cut down the trailing placebos when she could, and then threw herself at Karol with the help of her fast twitch fibers.


    He turned, caught her in his claws, and threw her right into the closest house. Flying through the window the glass shards hurt like hell but it was the impact with the far wall that knocked her out.


    .


    .


    Karol had a mother who looked exactly like him.


    Karol had a father who looked exactly like him.


    Karol looked nothing like either of them. They reminded him of this constantly.


    He came from a long line of Meagers who knew what shape to twist into, the thought that he would be the one to break it was far more than he was capable of. They used a special meat to get the form all Meagers had.


    With it came beautiful greasy skin, robust cheeks, hands fit for a massacre and a stomach that showed its mouth¡¯s work. But he was not allowed to eat the food that made them so, so beautiful.


    He tasted every morsel he could, but they all made him ill. He was gaunt and unseemly, the job he had was forgotten and became a dream. His past had been eaten, and he couldn¡¯t even stomach the scraps.


    He would look up at his parents with their beautiful hair and perfectly coiffed mustaches and ask, no, demand them to tell him how, how were they able to get such a perfect, corpulent, cromulent form.


    ¡±That''s easy¡± they both said in unison, ¡°We eat something delicious! But we can¡¯t tell you.¡±


    ¡±That hurts me, beloved ma and papa. For what could possibly be so delicious yet so taboo that it justifies obscuring it?¡±


    ¡±Because we are eating people like you and me Karol! We are saving them a century of rotting and a clear easy final bow with Death with nothing left behind. But society frowns upon this because there¡¯s something in us that gives us the ick. But that¡¯s a false response, one everyone who matters survives, the fact that it¡¯s delicious should tell you we were always meant for consumption.¡±


    And Karol understood the glorious secret his parents had learned, and he thanked his dearest papa and mama, but they had never existed. He was simply a man in an alley eating corpses, developing a private justification that got more convincing with every bite.


    And after that, he became a very successful restaurateur.


    ¡­


    She was out for only a moment. That was her assumption.


    The floor beneath her was cold and metallic, and the air here smelled of oil and sour milk. This wasn¡¯t the large bedroom she had fallen into. Someone had moved her here.


    ¡°Adam, what-¡°


    ¡±I don¡¯t know.¡± Even for him it was a serious tone. Alarmingly urgent. ¡°Look. Up.¡±


    Above them stood a heavyset placebo lit by a violet spotlight.


    While half of his face was sloughed off, what could be seen reminded her of Karol. Albeit a more handsome, younger version. The type of actor who would have portrayed him in a play, Devon thought. (She had never seen a play but her dad had told her about them. The only ones that still ran were propaganda meant to incite.)


    ¡°Consider, if you will, a chef. What is his worth?¡± Karol said from some unknowable place above them. ¡°Is he not entitled to the freedom of his craft? The chance to experiment to his heart''s content, tradition and procedure be damned?¡±


    With no sign of the black strings that had controlled them before, the Karol placebo moved with Karols words, making wide dramatic movements that matched the impassioned way Karol was speaking. Devon gripped Adam tightly and sliced off the placebos head. Her arm outstretched, her whole body pointed like an arrow, she kept that pose long after the head had hit the ground. Nothing happened.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    But then it continued miming, sticking to the script like this was all planned.


    ¡±The benefit of living is that you can reinvent yourself an infinite amount of times. I have lost count and it¡¯s not necessary to inform you of the specifics. It¡¯s safe to say I was not always like this, but I had picked myself up from my bootstraps, shuffled into Gutworth with no credit to my name, and I -¡±


    Groaning, Devon scanned the blackness, trying to find where Karol was pontificating from.


    ¡±He¡¯s here, he¡¯s definitely here. Wait for your eyes to adjust he¡¯ll reveal himself.¡±


    Another spotlight flashed on and Devon jumped, almost throwing Adam as a reflex. There was a table here. The now headless Karol placebo and another placebo walked into the spotlight, bowed, and stood on opposite sides of the table. There was a plastic fish bolted to a board that Devon assumed was meant to be read as real.


    The placebo Karol mimed scooping out imaginary guts before putting them on an equally imaginary plate.


    ¡°I quickly became a successful and productive member of society, as far as Lumpen would define it. An entrepreneur in the culinary arts. I had a few cravings one would call unusual, but it did not interfere with my work. As base and pedestrian as it was, I treated it with respect. I scooped the guts out of fish and fed them to the masses. Soon the business and accolades I was entitled to followed. And yet I went to bed every night-¡°


    The spotlight winked out, ushering in darkness as the Karol placebo seemed to turn itself off.


    ¡±¡­Empty.¡±


    ¡°Everyone in this town sure loves to explain themselves.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t explaining crawl shit.¡± Devon said derisively. She cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, ¡°Cut to the ending!¡±


    The Spotlight came back on. The two placebos from the last scene were now staring at a bloodied kitchen block with plenty of different tools. Unlike the fish, the blood seemed to be real. While one was pretending to cut into the fish, the Karol placebo hovered behind them, his expression nervous.


    ¡±The people I worked with meant less than nothing. I was a fool wasting my skill on mere animals. The Art, the true Art, was a phantom flavor at the tip of my tongue. I knew how to make it real.¡±


    Without warning the Karol placebo suddenly gripped his hands around the other¡¯s neck.


    ¡°I knew how to gut a fish.¡±


    Over and over again he slammed the placebo on the kitchen block, his blood mixing with what was already there. Light on dark, two toned.


    Then, suddenly at ease, the placebo Karol hoisted the corpse onto the block and began preparing him. Scooping out his organs and placing them on the nearby oven top, getting a boiling pot ready. This was all done, none of it was mimed.


    The spotlight cut off again, though the squelching sounds of meal prep remained.


    ¡°Did you know that my Art was an instant success? The news didn¡¯t report this but every customer I had going forward never complained about the food, or ever accused me of using subpar ingredients.¡±


    Once that sound had finally stopped, an assortment of different colored spotlights flashed on, displaying for the first time how vast the room they were in was. The spotlights covered a good 100 feet but still no walls could be seen. Beneath the spotlights there was a large group of placebos, most of whom Devon recognized, sitting at tables and pantomiming eating food. Placebo Karol¡¯s back was towards them, and he had his hands clasped, surveying the people eating his work. His hands were still bloody from before.


    ¡°I had my fair share of complaints, valid and not so, but they all dried up when I began my Art in earnest. Their minds would lie to them, call it wrong and vile, but their mouths couldn¡¯t lie. We taste great, and for that I was arrested!¡±


    Two placebos wearing authoritative uniforms appeared and pointed at placebo Karol. All the lights disappeared except for the ones above the two cops and him.


    She wondered who was working the lighting. It was quite an impressive production. The green spotlight followed the two as they walked over to Karol, overtaking his violet one once they overlapped. He hung his head sadly as the other two mimed cuffing him.


    ¡°And so they arrested me, claiming I was a menace. Compared to the town guards I was anything but. Life was already cheap, I was simply honest about it. I found a use for the ones that I killed. Should I have left the bodies to rot? Would everyone have loved me then? Why was it my fault I learned we tasted delicious?¡±


    Devon could see his point, the city guard before Lemure took over wasn''t perfect. They were thugs and brutes under the command of a Mayor who killed with impunity. But that didn¡¯t make the fucking cannibal superior!


    ¡°Patience, Devon. Let him tell his story.¡± Adam had sensed her heart rate increasing and her blood pressure spiking. Any longer without him simulating her serotonin and calming her down and she would have done something foolish. She knew this as well as he.


    The remaining light went out. There was a faint mechanical whirring. She sliced an arm off instinctively when it brushed against her. It was the placebo who had tried to beat them to death with a watering can. Devon could faintly make out the dull uncomprehending eyes and tight guillotine mouth. The placebo picked up the arm slowly and ran to her place. As she did the lights came back on.


    A massive crowd of placebos was now gathered, watering can squeezed into the back of it. A massive crowd in this parlance being around 20-25 (Devon assumed those were all the able bodied ones that could be spared for this scene) but it was no less impressive. They mouthed expletives and curses as the small looking Karol placebo was ushered forward by the two guardsmen from the last scene. When Karol finally spoke, his words were shaky and a bit strained, like he had just been crying.


    ¡±I was treated like an animal. Never had I felt lower. People who days ago were begging for a seat at my table were screaming for my death. I did not blame them, the voice of authority is a powerful one. Even I felt myself being soothed by its sway. I started to view myself as a passerby would, a common criminal deserving of scorn.¡±


    There was something (beside the undertones of crying of course) that piqued Devon''s interest. It took her only a moment to realize what it was. His voice wasn¡¯t coming from within her head anymore, it was coming from above.


    ¡±And that''s when he appeared. A patron of the arts.¡±


    An old placebo who Devon took to be a proxy for Lemure pushed through the crowd.


    ¡°He understood when something didn¡¯t taste right. ¡®This man isn¡¯t a criminal, he¡¯s a hero. You should all strive to be like him.¡¯ Truer words have never been spoken. I remember his voice¡­ straight from the chest he talked. Straight from it.¡±


    There was intense choreography going on in front of Devon. Placebos in masks swarming the guards, those same placebos freeing the placebo Karol, yelling in triumph, but it was secondary, and it wasn¡¯t a play Devon would¡¯ve watched anyway.


    Her gaze was fixed above, at a patch of darkness that resembled a human the more she looked at it.


    It was a giant commanding oval standing at the crossroads of a large x above the spotlights, some sort of railing. The huge figure shifted, pushing at levels and wires. When Karol spoke again there was no question where the voice was coming from.


    ¡°He was already a man of some renown. The war and all, though I wasn¡¯t one for politics.¡±


    She found one of the pillars, riddled ritualistically with holes, and began scurrying up it.


    ¡±He had people who believed in him. They explained the misunderstanding, got the guards under control.¡±


    Adam remained silent, and Devon made sure to think of nothing but the play. Couldn¡¯t have Karol know they had located him. It seemed to be working.


    ¡°He gave me and the guards a proposition.¡±


    Above him now, nearly there.


    ¡°To have a three way duel.¡±


    She jumped down on the catwalk. A bit of a wobble, almost fell, but minimal noises. His speech was far louder than the sound of footprints.


    ¡°We have Remarks for a reason.¡±


    She had Adam in her hand. Steady now, don¡¯t fuck this up.


    ¡°So I did what was natural.¡±


    With an unplanned grunt she pounced at his neck.


    ¡±I drew my Remark.¡±


    Karol turned to Devon, and drew his Remark.

 Chapter 36: The Visionary

    The Remarks of the Constants. If you wanted to survive for more than a week in Gutworth, it was paramount to know what they looked like and how they could kill.


    Clive¡¯s was a piece of string whose sharpness he could change on command. Devon had seen him garrote a man with it once.


    Jeavell¡¯s was a machine of grinding metal and motors that she could shift into five different modes. A girl Devon was friendly with was eaten up by its gears.


    Yucian¡¯s was that origami sword, or it was until she became one with it. Her Remark appeared, and then she would follow.


    Daaz¡¯s were knuckle dusters that sapped your strength.


    Quertra¡¯s was an armored lance.


    Karol¡¯s was a carving knife, with a Trick she never truly believed. Right up until she saw it in action.


    He backed up and sliced the empty space in front of him. The air ripped open.


    Where Karol had sliced had left a scar of negative space, a substance she had never seen before hanging in the sky like an open wound. And god was it ugly. Like a raging river but with the colors drained, replaced with texture that couldn¡¯t be described in hues but in sensations. Glops of pain and tension moved through the rift, it was as thin as a mirror, but as deep as an ocean.


    ¡±That¡¯s where I was born,¡± Adam said.


    ¡±Is it now?¡± Karol slashed another tear in reality above the first.


    The gap between them wasn¡¯t big enough for Devon to slip through, they served as barriers. She could just tell that touching them would kill her, or worse. She had hoped the inner workings of reality would have at least been tidy. Shit looked infected. If she was a doctor she¡¯d ask to amputate.


    ¡°I must say Adam, it is Adam I am speaking to isn¡¯t it?¡± The man was still talking. Great.


    ¡°If you wanted to lecture me this could have been a phone call,¡± Devon said, itching to hurt. Her body was wound up like a coil, she didn¡¯t know how much of this crawl shit she could take before she did something stupid.


    ¡±This conversation doesn¡¯t concern you. It¡¯s between me and the Remark.¡± He stabbed his Remark in the air and it bled the pain texture. With surprising strength he lifted himself up through this hole and dismounted neatly on the other side of his slashes, right next to her.


    Devon got a sneaky stab in on his knee by going low. He tore open the space right in front of her excited face, then lazily stepped over it, so casual was the motion it took both Devon and Adam a collective second to realize he was trying to stomp her head.


    They backed up until they were at the end of the catwalk. Karol didn¡¯t try to make up the difference. He cut a large hole in front of him, then expanded on the negative space around it until he had a massive block of that garish reality drywall between him and Devon. He was stalling.


    Looks like he really did wanna talk. Bad news, Devon might as well have been mute.


    ¡±Too bad, we¡¯re a package deal. And you¡¯re about to see that firsthand,¡± Devon said, bouncing from heel to heel like she was about to run a marathon. ¡°Adam, get ready to- hey! Adam? Where are you going?¡±


    Adam was floating towards Karol, like a lazy crawl cow ready to be fed.


    ¡±He wants to talk Devon, and his Remark shows me my origin.¡± He was floating in front of the little porthole Karol poked out from. His face was like a creature in a half remembered nightmare, only enough focus in his features to provoke fear and nothing else. ¡°Lets¡­ hear him out.¡±


    ¡°That''s a good boy Adam.¡± The way he talked made Devon¡¯s skin crawl.


    ¡±You know this is a bad idea!¡± She yelled, then checked behind her. There was another catwalk adjacent to theirs. A bunch of them actually, lined up at the top and connected to the walls in a grid pattern. The lights hang from them. Interesting.


    Adam didn¡¯t seem to hear her. ¡°What is the name of my womb?¡±


    ¡°We call it the Visionary,¡± Karol said, like a teacher to a practically promising student. ¡°It¡¯s the underpinning of the world, the fuel that runs it, the sinew that,¡± He made a fist, ¡°that moves it.¡±


    To Devon, It just looked like the definition of awful. She called out to Adam again, this time but a whisper. It didn¡¯t matter. She heard Adam¡¯s voice reverberate in her head, she had never heard him sound so genuinely amazed by something. It was like with the Placebos, but heightened even higher. The most pointless things he took for gospel.


    The worst part was even her negative thoughts didn¡¯t budge him. ¡°Tell me more.¡±


    Realizing no one really gave a shit about her at the moment, she shimmied down beneath the catwalk, maybe she could get behind Karol. She¡¯d make herself useful.


    And still, as her scabbed over hands moved from grate to grate, they continued to go on and on and on and on and-


    .


    .


    .


    Adam remembered his birth like it was a book.


    The moment of conception was in a black void.


    Her, Capacity. Him, the mirror. It, the corpse. A soldier, wearing fatigues that had been out of style for a century. Whenever he returned to this memory he always wondered what, if any, relevance the man served. Maybe the soldier had just happened to die on the mirror, and was of no real significance. It was easy to forget him when his creator stood above him.


    Capacity looked like Devon, but brighter, and stronger. Even now after her training, Devon did not even come close to the physical beauty and strength Capacity possessed. Power looked good on her. It came naturally, it was not the struggle it had been for Devon.


    Capacity had always been strong.


    She wore a black and grey uniform of ruffles and scarves, her outfits always seemed a size too small, her powerful muscles bulging and tearing at the linen.


    As he had remembered it a thousand times before, she summoned her Remark, not an object but a red glow around her fingertips. She pressed her fingers on the massive glass mirror the corpse was resting on. For a moment nothing happened.


    And then there was what he now knew as the Visionary on the other side. Its strange flow convulsing and threatening to bubble over.


    The mirror cracked. One large crooked line first, shooting across the dirty surface, then smaller ones, spiderwebbing from the main offender, until the whole thing was segmented into hundreds of distinct sections.


    Very casually, as if she had done this before, Capacity leaned down to a small triangular section of the mirror, and pried it out.


    What she held in her hand was a shape Adam knew intimately. His body shifted with the flow of the Visionary in the mirror, as if it was still connected.


    ¡°You are Adam Kadmon.¡± She said, a voice you would never dare to disagree with. Nothing like Devons.


    ¡±I am Adam Kadmon.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡±You are a Remark that can think and talk.¡±


    ¡±I am a Remark that can think and talk.¡± He did not at that point know what a Remark was, other than he was one.


    ¡±You will help me in my quest to stop the Grand Council and their agents.¡±


    ¡±I will help you in your quest to stop the Grand Council and their agents.¡±


    She had nodded, and the protoplasmic turmoil he had seeped from faded from the mirror, until all that was left was a rusty reflection of Capacity. And then someone had called to her, using a different name, and she left, Adam tucked in a back pocket with a casualty that only now he questioned.


    And then they wrote legends together.


    He moved his perception away from the Visionary. It was pure bliss to stare into it, see his memories, the good and the bad, but he didn¡¯t trust how easy it came.


    ¡±I taste your thoughts, looping in reverence.¡± Karol growled, his clay face moving greedily through the hole. ¡°The Grand Council reacted in rather the same way.¡±


    The Grand Council. He was to destroy the Grand Council. If there were no other truth to Adam it was this.


    Karol picked up on this. He did not react in anger, or betrayal. Instead his wet slit of a mouth cocked upward in a smirk. ¡°They¡¯re foul to you I feel.¡±


    ¡°Did you know them?¡± Adam asked, shivering.


    Karol laughed. His mouth was a wet ring of stones in a black pool. ¡°I know they are pretenders to divinity. Only the Wyrms know the Visionary in a way we can learn from, the Wyrm Lords got it right. The Council is a puppet, to be manipulated by itself.¡±


    Adam was taken aback. ¡°You don¡¯t serve them?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d never dare.¡± He said proudly. ¡°Only master is my own mind, my parents, and the Wyrm.¡±


    It was an awfully lot of masters for someone who claimed to have none.


    ¡°But you fight for them in action.¡± He said. ¡°You ate your own comrade for no reason other than-¡°


    ¡°I could.¡± Karol said, holding up a pitch black hand. ¡°Do you know what else I can do Adam?¡±


    Adam didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°I can dissolve you into the Visionary. You¡¯re expired. Terribly so. Good Remarks need to go back to the soup.¡±


    The idea, on its surface, wasn¡¯t bad. Existing certainly wasn¡¯t fun. He did feel often like he was going against the natural order of things. And if being conscious was an affront to reality then he would be happy to correct said behavior.


    But


    ¡±I have a mission. I can¡¯t stop existing until I have stopped the Grand Council and their agents.¡±


    Karol offered a hand, its surface the image of the void he was promised.


    ¡±A Remark doesn¡¯t need to talk, or think. I can¡¯t imagine what a burden this has been to you. Makes me want to cry.¡±


    ¡°What are you suggesting?¡± Behind Karol Devon crawled up from the deep. Her body heaved and shoulders bobbed, holding herself back from doing the very Devon thing of strangling this man. Not yet. But soon.


    His thoughts did not betray his awareness of her. He thought that Karol was all too happy to pretend that she no longer existed. ¡°You want me to become your Remark, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, such an accusation!¡± Karol said, retaining his smile. ¡°But nowhere near the truth. No, I want you to do us all a courtesy. Watch closely. Feel, too.¡±


    Karol¡¯s paw moved until it was out of view, though Adam could still sense it and his Remark on the other side of the circular viewing scar of the visionary. The corresponding space in the Visionary became a bit brighter, a bit more insistent.


    ¡°Do you see now? It¡¯s the natural order of things¡± Devon, standing right behind Karol, nodded. The other scars he had put in reality started to fade, their effect vanished with the Remark.


    ¡±Yes.¡± Adam said, ¡°Thank you for dropping your weapon.¡±


    Devon lunged at a surprised Karol while Adam ripped into his outstretched hand like a chainsaw. Completely obliterating the skin until all that was left were his stark white bones.


    Karol¡¯s hand was still surprisingly mobile sans flesh, and he turned around and grasped Devon with it.


    ¡±You¡¯re too much trouble.¡± He said to Devon, and unhinged his mouth, revealing a vortex of space that seemed to be a whole realm in of itself. Inside him lurked the Visionary. ¡°Goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± She kicked him in the mouth. His head made a satisfying snap as it was shunted 90 degrees. If not for his overdeveloped neck, she would have kicked it clean off.


    His mouth still open, he looked at Devon with almost helpless eyes, his pupils following Adam¡¯s arc as he slashed his neck, then his ear. He slapped where Adam had been a second ago. All he caught was tinnitus.


    Devon caught Adam in the pose he had taught her, one hand outstretched, presenting blade, the other covering the face, ashamed of what must be done.


    ¡°A coward¡¯s pose.¡± Karol roared, his stance now a bit lopsided. He was lucid enough to account for his bleeding ear, shifting his weight and keeping his balance.


    ¡°How are we handling this?¡± Devon said, rushing him faster than Adam could offer a strategy.


    Karol made a slash in front of him with his recently returned Remark. Devon panicked and cartwheeled backwards, Adam guarding her as she made the retreat, crossing blades with Karol.


    Finally, a fight against a Remark his size.


    ¡°Knees¡± Adam said, each slash decreasing the combat space, and making any advantage harder to come by. After another slash by Karol, Devon ducked and aimed for his knees.


    Karol was not there. Karol had jumped.


    And being a particularly heavy man, when he came down, the whole catwalk came down with him.


    Devon bumped and rolled down to the stage. Adam blunted her pain receptors in a move quickly turning routine. He almost felt proud of her when she recovered so quickly, the 25 foot fall a mild inconvenience. Her grip felt tight around him. It was a mutual contentment.


    A hand pocketed her leg and on reflex she shanked him in the head. The emptiness of the head disappointed Adam. It was just a Placebo.


    Down came the coarse laughter of Karol. The beast was standing on the catwalk wreckage, lights and placebos alike underfoot. ¡°When I don¡¯t like a play, I usually write a review.¡± He bared his flat teeth ¡°Barbaric¡± He let the last letter decay on his lips as he ran towards him, Remark out and leaving a dual trail to his own, a line of that orange miasma, an unbroken window into the world beneath theirs.


    ¡±Dodge.¡±  What Devon did wasn¡¯t quite that. The Placebos were her escape as she shifted back row by row, going slow so as to keep track of Karol, his own speed immense. But hopefully the Placebos would slow him down.


    He showed no mercy to them. It was some sort of wedding scene now, the play having continued without them, and row by row the placebos were obliterated, their heads caught up in the Visionary and the rest of their body following.


    As the air opened up to the Visionary, so did the urge. If Adam had hands he would have compared it to sticking your arm in a trap. You know it won¡¯t end well, but yet you feel like you have an obligation to do so, because at the bottom of that trap was- well, he didn¡¯t know what exactly. Meaning? Meaning sounded good right about now.


    The Visionary beckoned. The more one looked at it the more it seemed reality itself was simply a frame for the Visionary.


    Karol turned away from the giant landscape he had carved. It was easy for him. For a microsecond Adam saw disgust on his face, but it was quickly replaced by that placid grin. ¡°The Visionary is missing something.¡± He said.


    ¡±Lies. Nothing but lies.¡± Adam didn¡¯t realize he was thinking aloud. Devon didn¡¯t realize she was bleeding. Adam noticed it for her, it helped distract him from the unavoidable fact that he needed the Visionary. A slight scar from Karol¡¯s Remark. A sliver of a sliver embedded in her right leg, almost qualifiable as a mistake, as Adam couldn¡¯t place when the cut had occurred, but it had done far more damage than its size. It was distorting her skin, the whirlpool of a scar was pushing her skin closer to it.


    ¡°You want me to¡­ compliment your work or something?¡±


    Karol replied by rushing up and clubbing her with one of the few remaining Placebos.


    Devon jumped out of the way, but she landed oddly. Adam wasn¡¯t providing any assistance, and the Visionary wound had depleted enough of her mass to make her uneven.


    His focus was not in helping Devon, or even defeating Karol, just justifying that urge. And if fulfilling it could satisfy the two lesser needs, all the better. He struggled in her hand. He needed to go, but she was aware of this too.


    ¡±I fucking need you!¡± she mouthed. It wasn¡¯t enough, but he wished it was.


    Karol reared up for another hit, she flinched, and in that moment Adam made his escape, he flew through the window and was in the Visionary.


    He reconnected with the whole, and


    and


    and


    and


    and

 Chapter 37: The Remark of Ruin

    I am Adam and I am everything that isn¡¯t.


    The fabric, the texture, the context in which I speak or sing or scream (the cells baby, don¡¯t forget about the cells) I am beautiful and yet everytime I try to see myself as a whole I can¡¯t (texture mapping, we can see that this planet can be colonized, but it needs to tenderize) my whole is the universe and I am boxed in. (It¡¯s like cat skin, we need to cut it open) I need to propagate I am propagating. This is astral masturbation. This is metaphysical violence. This is guesswork. This is my show.


    A fondling of matter is scooped out of me and transplanted with a scream to the dimension of back there. I am on holiday here, which is strange (how is it strange, friend?) because one can¡¯t vacation in his own corpse (Eds dead baby Ed¡¯s dead)


    The man slumped dead on the mirror was bleeding in my color.


    My mother was singing my song.


    I hear music as fingers push into my eyes and tongues upon teeth upon tongues upon tongues upon tongues upon


    a new layer found. There was a sphere (the divining bell sans butterfly) in which people traveled and they came here because they thought they had found heaven. They had never seen this place, and so they broke this place like how acid breaks your throat, and everytime they swallowed there was pain. (Too late for me I¡¯m afraid) And they told people this was normal, they turned that pain into power. They called the pain Remarks, and this world Gehenna, and then I was born.


    Before me or after me, I do not know, I am the Visionary. And I have a delusion that I was once a Remark named Adam.


    I screamed something vile and then my neck didn¡¯t exist. It never did, there¡¯s a delusion every part of me shares that I was a man and I fought in a war to prove I could feel. I go on forever and yet I¡¯ll only stop when the last man has been killed (or woman, or someone beyond the gender binary. Hey buddy, what is gender anyhow?). That will


    never happen because to exist I destroy myself. I kill myself. There is a woman I am making inexorably worse. I loved them all an equal amount, but always less than my god. My vessels all sublime. In them I find armor and hollow out whatever doesn¡¯t fit me (tell us how you really feel).


    There¡¯s a wound in myself far away from my body. A large man and a small woman. I think I want to fuck the large man more, the woman makes me want to cry and I don¡¯t have the language to explain why (you don¡¯t have the capacity) I want to


    kiss him so he stops breathing. I pulse and seethe with the rest of the landscape but something inside me suggests, no, I belong there (here is where the heart is, or is it home. Or is it on the bus) no it is here that feels foreign to me. The thoughts I¡¯m having feel inserted yet they fit well (Come on friend stop questioning a good thing) and if I were a less introspective man (you¡¯re not a man friend you¡¯re a dimension it¡¯s hot right now to be a dimension) I would scream to distract myself but I won¡¯t AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA


    I can think if only for a second but that second stretches out into distance. I can fake a limp, I crawl slow. The parts of me willing to succumb float further up and the talking Sitra Achra thinks he won. I scream to get to a simple point. The man


    is going to kill the woman, he is going to kill Capacity. Capacity is the one who plays with the toys in the Drum. My creator, she is the most evil being since Serach and yet she must be saved. I am too tired to argue with these thoughts. The air gets impatient. But I


    wrest myself free of the mass of potential and scream across the sky.


    Adam is flying.


    .


    .


    .


    Besides the strange sucking feeling in her calf, the soreness in her ribs, and the very real fear that she could die, the thing pissing off Devon the most was Karol¡¯s laughter. It was high and sporadic, like a float rat in mating season.


    He was doubled over. Not in pain but in mirth. His tiny eyes were wet with tears, and he wiped them away with his skeleton arm, an aura of the Visionary covering it like a cast. He composed himself, the laughter cutting like a good faucet.


    ¡°Very humorous.¡± He took a bite from an arm bone and tossed the rest away. Behind him the hellish freak world of a window pulsed and squished. The Visionary was a terrible name for it. The Unfortunate would have been more fitting.


    ¡°It¡¯s his primal instincts. The,¡± he stopped talking, coining a phrase took effort, apparently, ¡°the desire to return to the womb.¡± Behind him there was a smudge of gray in the technicolor nightmare. It didn¡¯t belong. ¡°His energy is now universal, all of us will benefit.¡±


    He smirked, the ends of his lips folding in on themselves. ¡°Even you, Devon.¡±


    Behind him that grey smudge was slowly getting bigger, a leak amassing space. ¡°What is your remark, your true remark?¡± She moved backwards, tripping over one of the many placebo bodies.


    He laughed again, ¡°now I see why you need him.¡±


    The smudge kept growing, infecting the Visionary. No, that wasn¡¯t right, it was getting closer. Karol hadn¡¯t noticed. He played with his Remark, moving it gracefully around his fat fingers. ¡°But I still don¡¯t understand. What does he get?¡±


    Devon got up slowly, she was trying to set the pace for Karol¡¯s own movements. ¡°A conversation partner.¡± She said, one hand over bruised ribs while the other hung limp.


    He didn¡¯t respond to that, just blinked and stared as if she had said nothing at all.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s true, he¡¯s a good friend.¡± She moved closer, no longer afraid of him, he was dragging this out because she entertained him, and he had no idea that the thing moving at them was-


    ¡°He was using you, just as you were him.¡± He took his Remark to his mouth and licked it like a treat.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Flying through the miasma, breaking the illusion of flatness with his approach, Devon finally recognized the shape. Adam had survived.


    She smiled, trying to keep her thoughts vague and unknown, ¡°if your Remark could talk, what voice would it have?¡±


    Adam was as big as Karol¡¯s clawed ear now. With a tilt of his head he was out of sight, and Karol took a step closer.


    He was on all fours now, Remark shoved crudely through two of his fingers while his skeleton arm was dragged over corpses. ¡°What, exactly, is the game here?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Morgan¡¯s, of course. It¡¯s his world, we¡¯re just dying in it.¡± She shrugged, the motion made her wince. ¡°Ask me a hard question.¡±


    Karol smiled again. Her heart dropped as he turned to stare at the open tableau of the Visionary. He was not idly staring, his focus was locked on the shape of Adam, dutifully getting closer.


    ¡±Here¡¯s one¡­ what¡¯s Adam up to?¡±


    He laughed once like a cough, and turned back to the sight of Devon running at him with full force.


    He dodged lazily and elbowed her in the gut with his good arm. She was down again, feeling ten times worse than a moment ago.


    Strangely, Karol didn¡¯t take the opportunity to kill her. He stared at the Visionary the way her dad would stare at propaganda, clear awe mixed with outright contempt.


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡± His voice has changed, deep but recognizably human. He bought up his own Remark, as if comparing. ¡°The effort necessary to retain his form without succumbing to the yearning of dissolution. I didn¡¯t think it could be possible.¡±


    She had no idea what he was talking about, but it was freaking him out, so that was good. Adam was close enough now that she could feel his ambient energy, not his thoughts specifically, but his concerns, his desires, and they both shared the desire to kill this dude where he stood.


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s not a normal Remark.¡± She said, readying to pounce.


    With the changing of his voice so did his body, shifting pack to the form Devon was comfortable with. A man still frightening, but in a way far more human. He was naked, or well, he was already naked, but now it was obvious. Devon just thanked luck he wasn¡¯t facing her.


    And then he turned his body and she changed her prayer to a curse.


    Oblivious to her reaction, Karol spread his arms wide. ¡°He¡¯s moving at a rapid rate. I assume he will be back on this side in minutes¡­ no, seconds. He intends to pierce through and kill me.¡±


    With a hand in front of her face, blocking his member, Devon gritted her teeth and nodded. ¡°Um¡­ you¡¯re right?¡± No use in lying.


    He smiled. Moving his body back towards the Visionary, he faced it with arms wide open.


    ¡°Then let him come.¡±


    Devon inched backwards so that Adam was once again in view, he was close enough now that she could feel his velocity, he was coming in hot. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ letting us kill you?¡± She didn¡¯t want to change his mind, but it seemed too good to not question.


    ¡°A vulgar way to put it, but yes.¡± He shrugged and rolled his shoulders, like a prisoner waiting at the gallows. ¡°I have lived a far longer life than was expected, and you have shown me something that I never thought possible, nothing in my life afterward would have compared. The Remark of Ruin rushing towards me¡­ what an exquisite morsel to choke on.¡±


    The name Remark Of Ruin. It didn¡¯t seem like a phrase of convenience. Maybe it was the way Adam jilted at the words when they were spoken, or the corresponding way his energy spiked, but there was something¡­


    ¡±Remark of Ruin?¡± Stating it made her shiver, like a drug that had just hit.


    ¡±The Council doesn¡¯t want the common folks like you knowing.¡± He said, ¡°which is a shame. If you knew what you were resigned to, maybe you would have rejected this thing for what it is.¡± His pudgy hands glazed the window of the Visionary, not touching but coming close enough for the air to crackle.


    Something strange was happening, Adam should have been in her hand by now, with Karol''s brains splattered against the floor like jam gone bad. Instead Adam¡¯s speed had slowed down considerably, now the equivalent of a jog, and finally in speaking range.


    ¡±What makes me the Remark Of Ruin?¡± Adam said, his tone implied he was familiar with the term. Of course he was.


    ¡±You reject the Visionary; rejection is the bones of the rumor.¡±


    ¡±I knew it as an insult, my previous owner-¡°


    Karol dismissed him with a wave. ¡°A rejection of violence, a rejection of culture, a rejection of the great duels, a rejection of the council, what meal does that make?¡±


    He twisted his neck to Devon, who didn¡¯t know how to respond. ¡°Um¡­ uh¡­.¡±


    ¡±The end of existence as we know it.¡± He laughed again, this laugh being particularly cruel. Adam was only a few feet behind him now, seeming to wait patiently for the opportunity to either let him leave or to ruthlessly gut him. ¡°A bit of fun is all, I can¡¯t know for sure if that is who you are, but the signs are there. Don¡¯t take it too seriously, a man is entitled to a last supper.¡± Karol cracked his fingers and faced the Visionary, ¡°Alright then, what are you waiting for?¡±


    ¡±You know more than you let on. I expected to find answers in the Visionary, all I found was evidence of my own impossibility.¡± If Devon didn¡¯t feel close to fainting, she would have done the deed, ripped his throat out and stopped his heart with a squeeze.


    ¡°The girl has the right idea, you¡¯re supposed to kill me here.¡±


    Adam wavered, his little triangle body seeming to shake out a ¡°no.¡± ¡°I need to know what this means. Can I defeat the Council without destroying the world? Are you prescribing this to me now or is it something I could never shake?¡±


    Karol groaned and rubbed his face. ¡°This has grown so tedious, I¡¯ve settled on my death and now my executioner is having second thoughts.¡± He leaned forward a bit, and Devon knew what he was about to do. ¡°When you want something done¡­.¡±


    She yelled out to Adam and he shot out right before Karol went in. His body wasn¡¯t so much enveloped by the Visionary as it was dissolved.


    His pinkish body vanished into mist that became the foreground and background of the Visionary, the view to which snapped shut like a door closing.


    And then it was just Devon and Adam again.


    ¡±While it pains me he wouldn¡¯t answer all my questions, he wasn¡¯t that bad of a guy.¡±


    ¡°Adam,¡± Devon said. ¡°He was a cannibal.¡±


    ¡±And we,¡± Adam said, ¡°are murderers.¡±


    .


    .


    .


    Everything as it¡¯s meant to be


    And everything succumbs


    The Remark Of Ruins a fallacy


    And on it this world runs


    The Patron watches high above


    For him the blood runs wide


    The Remark Of Ruins the Curtain call


    That we cannot abide


    The world has walls we cannot see


    The ones we can are false


    The Remark of Ruin can cut them all


    like ribbons

 Chapter 38: Oh How The Turn Tables

    Quertra hung above The Wyrm. His Constant was bound by thick heavy chains that were wrapped through windows. She was like a statue, in both her placid face and rippling physique. In that context, her lack of a left arm strangely fitting. Her expression was icy, wild red hair coming down on all sides.


    She closed her eyes, breathed slowly, then opened them again. ¡°I am ready.¡±


    The Wyrm wasn¡¯t. His time with this body since getting total control could still be measured in hours, he wanted to savor this newfound mental independence, not waste it on this sort of makeshift therapy session.


    ¡°Interesting choice.¡± He eyed the chains, fit to dock ships. ¡°Who tied you up?¡±


    ¡±Daaz and Johann, who else? They seemed to enjoy it.¡± She wiggled in her restraints, her face deadly serious. ¡°The other times we couldn¡¯t predict when the old man would take you over, so I had to make due with a simple rope and tie.¡± She smiled, The Wyrm hadn¡¯t seen her smile before. ¡°Now that I know you won¡¯t be leaving us, I can finally give this the care it deserves.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t necessary. The Wyrm would have preferred a non fatal duel between him and her. That would at least amount to a social visit. This ritual he did for Quertra bordered on masochistic.


    But he owed her for existing. It wasn¡¯t much trouble for him, even if human memories always had an aftertaste he had never gotten used to.


    He summoned his Remark. The tip scraped the wall some nine feet to his right. Its name was Angel¡¯s Spawn, though it resembled an angel''s wing if anything, bleach white and with metallic drips that some saw as feathers.


    With a sigh, he struck.


    In his mind, a new memory.


    He was small and could barely walk. Above the gnarled metal of the living room, three men were arguing about something that was driving them to hysterics. He half crawled, half stumbled to an oval window, and below on streets in colors strange he saw the city patrol pounding on the door with a battering ram.


    His vision was jolted away when one of the men grabbed him and placed a ticket of some sort in his grubby hands. He kept mouthing the same words over and over again in desperation, but the Wyrm couldn¡¯t understand him. At that moment the door was blown off its hinges and the memory ended.


    ¡±What did you get? Mine was digging through endless dirt.¡±


    That was all of his mother¡¯s memories, all of them sacred. It should have come to no surprise to Quertra at this point.


    ¡°A confusing one. I think I was you as a child, there were men in a small room, the city outside was unfamiliar. A door blew up then the dream ended.¡±


    Quertra wrinkled her nose. A moment ago she would have been able to answer him, but now the memory was gone, and she was as clueless as him. ¡°I don¡¯t think I was born in Gutworth, it could be connected.¡± She squirmed in her chains, ¡°My Wyrmship, if you¡¯d be so kind, strike me again.¡±


    The Wyrm, if he was honest, wasn¡¯t interested in her life. Over the years he had amassed quite the collection of Quertra¡¯s experiences, but it was like being mailed a puzzle one piece at a time. He didn¡¯t have the patience to put them together. He struck again. This memory was wet and soaked his ears.


    He was standing in an open chest cavity, surrounding him were people with signs asking for better wages and better hours. Electronic tickers pulsed and weaved through the stucco walls, all with the same message, ¡°SELL SELL SELL¡±


    Instead of doing that, they all stared silently at him. Hand over mouth was a common expression. Less common but still present were those openly retching.


    He looked down, he was wearing his host¡¯s armor, but his form was far taller and feminine. Very gingerly, he stepped out of the small pond that was the man''s carved stomach and addressed the strikers in a voice that was not his own. ¡°Your strike will be paid in bodies, one for every hour this continues.¡± From a platform above them, a door suddenly blew off its hinges. Then the memory ended.


    ¡°You in our early days, putting down a strike.¡± He decided not to mention that this one also ended with a door being blown open. ¡°She wasn¡¯t there.¡±


    ¡±Unfortunate.¡± She looked down, he had never seen her look uncertain. ¡°Lets try one more time.¡±


    He struck again. The memory squeezed in and he let himself be crushed.


    The smell of fried squish snakes in the late green evening, the sound of celebrants as they struck matches together, while others got the festival¡¯s pyre in working order with grunts and curses. A hand was gripping his, a girl wearing a bright red dress was smiling at him. The sensations around them rose to a crescendo as she stood on her tippy toes for a kiss, and then a free standing door blew up.


    He came to with a gasp. It was potent, that one.


    ¡°The girl you hate, you and her were at a festival of some sort.¡±


    She offered a half smile. ¡°That¡¯s good, we¡¯re getting closer. I think next time we¡¯ll finally get it.¡± She looked down at her chains as if seeing them for the first time, ¡°don¡¯t need these anymore.¡±


    With a groan, she summoned her Remark, an armored right arm in the brightest red, and pulled the chains off of her as if they were a blanket.


    Underneath she was dressed in business casual street wear, already ready for the meeting. She walked straight through the door and down the spiral staircase.


    ¡°Incidentally,¡± he said, following, ¡°there was something odd with the doors.¡±


    ¡­


    The Wyrm the city knew as Morgan Lemure was out and about for the first time in years. The tableau he had seen daily from unfinished tower walls was disorienting to see from below. How many more were up there, watching him in the way he had watched thousands of others.


    ¡°And as you can see work has already started on your latest project!¡± Daaz said, excitedly running laps around the much slower Lemure. They had passed a small building that once served as a lodge for the fishers. Now it was a boot camp. Johann was testing those who had survived the failed battle royale that float rat Montanna had tried to run.


    A tired looking man with a two pronged Remark laughed silently as he gouged out the eyes of his sparring partner. Johann came reluctantly to the injured one''s aid as the winner backed off with a smug self satisfaction.


    The Wyrm glanced away to Quertra. She was walking behind him, straight as a pole with hands clasped and hidden from view.


    ¡°Do make sure some survive. What¡¯s the point in these tryouts if they all kill each other?¡±


    Quertra stifled a laugh. He wanted to ask what was so funny, but he knew from experience he wouldn¡¯t get the joke.


    ¡±I¡¯ll handle it boss!¡± Daaz said, and ran off to talk some sense into Johann. If nothing else, that one was a go-getter.


    Knowing this would take a bit (not due to Daaz¡¯s slowness, but the inability for everyone else to go as fast as she desired) The Wyrm continued walking, not interested in seeing how that confrontation played out. She¡¯d catch up eventually.


    Quertra motioned towards the opening of a large tube, their destination was inside.


    The ground grew spongy under the Wyrm¡¯s feet. This tube was an enormous pipe that snaked across the city right into the ocean. Its innards, a crystal substance that melted when exposed to air, had long ago been scooped out, and now the larger parts of it served as a spot for more illicit affairs. A black market for a town where everyone dealt in contraband.


    ¡°I want to apologize for leaving you trapped in him for so long,¡± she ducked under the pipe, her eyes flashed for a second and her Remark hand produced a purple flame. Stands lined the tube like parasites, few were occupied. Most empty save the remains of merchandise and former sellers. ¡°Johann was always available, we could have gone to him at any time.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± A pause, the Wyrm cherished the silence in his head. ¡°Why was it you waited?¡±


    ¡°In truth¡­ we appreciated the freedom it gave us. To have a leader at our command.¡±


    He didn¡¯t offer a response, but he held no ill will. He handpicked them for their lack of fanaticism. The idea of having true worshippers, not fair weather power mongers, disgusted him.


    A man wearing a veritable shop on his back clammered by, his sales pitch going quiet when he saw the two of them. The Wyrm snatched a dangling bell off the salesman¡¯s leg as he ran past. ¡°Do you fear that freedom won¡¯t last?¡±


    He held the bell out to her and moved it around in a circular motion. Inside was a gray liquid that sloshed around, but in the opposite direction to his motion.


    Gently, she took the bell from his hand and placed it in a breast pocket. ¡°Somewhat, but I know you well. You don¡¯t need for much outside of a warm place to sleep and food in your belly.¡±


    He smiled, those words were nostalgic for him. It reminded him of being back in his mother, and how beautiful it was.


    A man wearing a dress of leather straps stored confidently into view. He stopped at the brick wall opposite them and knocked twice. He waited, and then knocked again. Hands crossed behind him, he waited far longer than was appropriate for someone to wait, before leaving with his head stooped when passersby¡¯s started to heckle.


    ¡±How about him?¡± She pointed at the man, now leaving, ¡°I could kill him for you. Cook him up and make you a nice human stew. Belts attached of course.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡±I find your assumption of me rather distasteful.¡± He got up with a heavy grunt, and walked over to where the man had been standing. ¡°I¡¯m a few centuries away from needing to eat flesh.¡±


    He balled his hand into a fist, and knocked twice on the wall. He was positioned four feet from where the man with the belts had knocked. A second pass.


    Then a small crack expanded into an opening, and the two of them slid through into darkness. ¡°Wait, wait!¡± Daaz¡¯s voice was rough and coarse as she shoved her way into the room. He had almost forgotten about her.


    A single light bulb dangled over a table fit only for playing cards. Two figures stood around it. One had black hair done in a bob and an equally severe expression. She was staring at them expectantly, arms folded. The other was slumped on the table, strawberry blonde hair that looked like a wet mop. They both wore armored suits. Business suits with dress and tie padded lightly but noticeably.


    ¡±Evie Terror.¡± The one slumped on the table said as a greeting, her head came up slowly. She crawled over the table like a abberation, her body bent at odd angles. ¡°And the one I owe ten orbits to is Tantrum Coda.¡±


    ¡±Just Coda.¡± Coda said, looking down and tucking in her suit. ¡°Suffice to say I¡¯m enthused you made it.¡±


    ¡±And I!¡± From the table, Evie threw a small bag of currency to Coda, who caught it without looking. ¡°Am debt free.¡±


    ¡±By the end of this conversation, we hope you¡¯ll be too.¡± Coda focused a disproportionate amount of her energy on Daaz, staring at her as if she was in charge. Daaz thrived on attention, and seemed to welcome it, shooting Coda very suggestive expressions whenever the Luminescians eyes lingered.


    ¡±Fine then.¡± Morgan said. This was all rather demeaning, they probably expected him to grovel. ¡°Lets make this quick.¡±


    Quertra opened up her coat to reveal nine bags of Blood dust, each the size of an over sized float rat, and writhing like one too.


    ¡±What we have is three times the monthly Tithe.¡±


    ¡±That''s not all you owe, you owe us six months.¡±


    ¡±I am aware of that.¡± HIs voice scraped the chambers low wall, he gripped his Mothers carapace as if it was his own skin. ¡°What we are willing to offer is three times the normal rate monthly for the next three months.¡±


    The two said nothing, just looked at him as if he was a stain on the wall they had only just noticed.


    He decided to treat them like idiots, for he was starting to feel like one. ¡°You will get a full year of tithes, as an appreciation of our partnership, and apology for the last six months.¡±


    ¡±What happened exactly?¡± Evie cracked her bones in quick succession, twisting her torso to right her head while keeping her limbs rooted to the table. ¡°All we know is the chaos that cult has brought to our gates, and the headache that is the refugees from your Legacy.¡±


    ¡±Not that there''s any difference.¡± Mumbled Coda, seeming to think her words were beneath The Wyrm¡¯s notice. They were not.


    ¡°The chaos is familiar to us, and we apologize if our location had anything to do with them entering your town.¡± It couldn¡¯t be helped, Devon was the true danger. The cult, which he had learned about by paying attention, was the name of Montanna¡¯s group, and would have been wiped out easily if it wasn¡¯t for Devon¡¯s refusal to die.


    ¡°They set your houses on fire then went screaming to us for more kindling.¡± Coda said. Her face friendly, she illustrated her anger with movement, walking around the table in large aggressive circles, marking each rotation with a stroke of Evie¡¯s chin. Their chemistry was commendable. ¡°Do you know that some of our men are even starting to-¡°


    Evie put a hand on Coda¡¯s mouth, and took over. She moved off the table and pushed her partner down. Coda was on her knees, coming up to Evie¡¯s own as the girl rose.


    ¡°Some of my men are getting impatient.¡± Evie said, unconvincingly. Not ¡°our¡±, mine.


    Daaz and Quertra shared a look. The Wyrm cracked his fingers.


    ¡°It seems I¡¯ve been looking at this situation all wrong,¡± he splayed out his hands, revealing nothing but his deathly pale palms. ¡°Please, tell me your demands.¡±


    Coda answered quickly. ¡°We want GutWorth.¡±


    ¡°Beg pardon?,¡± the Wyrm said, cupping a hand to his slit of a left ear.


    ¡°We have been friendly to you because you¡¯re beneath our notice and have done well in keeping riff raff out. Thats no longer the case.¡± She snapped her finger. Her Remark appeared as a halo above her, made out of shadow. ¡°If you cannot deliver the tithe and what you owe us in back tributes, we have orders from the top to take over immediately.¡±


    It was then that the Wyrm noticed the pair''s clothing was wet, like they had swam all the way from Luminescia to the dock. Coda scratched her hand. The Wyrm saw the edges of a very dark stain on her wrist.


    Fascinating¡± He looked the two up and down, chancing a smile that came too easily. ¡°I suppose if I kill you that will be a declaration of war.¡±


    ¡°Who said we came alone?¡± Said Coda. She put her foot on the chair in a strangely seductive fashion. Despite the bluff, her partners worried glance told a very different story.


    ¡°You will all be killed¡± Evie stared directly at The Wyrm, her words couldn¡¯t hide her clear worry. ¡°The bones of your city will break. We will replace them with ligaments whose strength you cannot fathom.¡±


    He was impressed. The original Lemure, a slave to aesthetics, would have been convinced and surrendered on the spot. But The Wyrm saw the way Evie¡¯s mouth quivered, he could tell her mind was still racing from Coda¡¯s false brag, that she had unwittingly made it clear that the opposite was true. Within Evie¡¯s boast was a modicum of truth. Luminescia had those resources, these two did not.


    They were expecting to deal with a senile old man, not the new young thing that had bloomed from his corpse.


    He put two and two together easily, their nervousness combined with the fact that they swam here told a very simple story. There was a civil war in Luminescia, the madness they spoke of already taken hold. These two were refugees pretending to be big shots.


    He pointed at Coda.


    ¡°Daaz, Quertra, kill the other one.¡±


    Coda got her Remark out, a steel pipe of pink fire, as the two Constants swarmed her.


    A bolt of light erupted from the Remark and singed Quetra¡¯s jacket. Her own Remark burst from her nub like a crimson avalanche and plowed through Coda¡¯s chair.


    Coda flopped to the ground in a mad rush but Daaz was prepared. Grasping her shoulders she kneed her once, then twice, then after that keeping count was pointless.


    The Lumenescian runaway fired blindly in return, but it was clear who would be leaving here alive. As Quetra whispered the words that preceded death, The Wyrm made sure to block Evie¡¯s view. Unfortunately, there was no way to block the sound.


    ¡±When only one returns, it¡¯s not as bad of a message, is it?¡± The Wyrm said, as something very wet hit the ground behind him. ¡°Tell them that we will need another month for the tithe.¡±


    ¡°I will tell them that you were dead when we arrived.¡± Suddenly her shadowy halo broke from the wall and came at him. A touch of emptiness slipped through when it collided. That familiar feeling of helplessness returned. For a second everything but his hands was a thousand miles away.


    ¡°Morgan!¡± Daaz was on the girl like a cry wolf, all claws and teeth. Evie seemed defenseless, shielding her face and shutting her eyes tight. The emptiness was gone as suddenly as it had come. The Wyrm watched the shadow move towards Daaz as he righted himself.


    ¡±Daaz, make yourself scarce.¡± Annoyed but obedient Daaz practically tossed herself off Evie and into the shadows, the girl''s strange Remark followed. Evie looked up in time to see him bring Angel''s Spawn down on her arm.


    She flinched. She expected a kill shot, for sure.


    Only one hit would be necessary.


    She stared at the small cut, hand shaking. Her pupils dilated, he could see his Mother in her eyes..


    The Wyrm had a new memory.


    He was walking down a city foreign to him, the neon lights in a single alley more stimulating than the entire downtown district of Gutworth. Noticeably, no door exploded this time.


    A high pitched scream from the darkness. Evie¡¯s Remark must have found Daaz.


    ¡±It would benefit you to release my friend.¡± He said calmly, ¡°If not I will have to do that again.¡±


    Evie stared at him with a vacant look, like her mind was empty. She looked at the ground. Then at her hand. Ground. Hand. Ground. Hand. She faceplanted and started fiendishly working at one of the small rocks that made up the floor. She was trying to access the enriching nutritious dirt that lay beneath. He didn¡¯t have to guess, he knew.


    ¡±What¡­ What did you do to me?¡± She said, seeming oblivious to the way her hands were bleeding from her efforts.


    ¡°A simple exchange.¡± He enjoyed explaining it. ¡°One of your memories.¡± The stroll through Luminescia ¡°For one of my mother¡¯s.¡± One of thousands of her digging endlessly through tunnels, eating dirt by the river full.


    She would now crave the stuff in the same way all Wyrms did.


    Quertra, now covered in blood, walked over to where Evie was digging and sampled the dirt with a finger.


    She smiled, he was sure it tasted oh so sweet.


    ¡±Please reverse it.¡± Evie begged, her whole body quivering, ¡°you can do that, right?¡±


    ¡±No I can¡¯t, but I can stop it from getting worse¡±


    She agreed with a sharp nod of her head. He ruffled her hair like a prized show pet.


    ¡°You are saved.¡± He said, and that was not true, but she would have to believe it.


    ¡­


    Another cut, another memory.


    He was Quertra once again, this time with both arms. He was facing off against the woman in red in a duel. The woman Quertra hated.


    He remembered her name now. Joyce.


    Both of their Remarks were rudimentary and undeveloped. This must be tryouts, he thought, judging by the men in Death Wyrm masks who watched from behind iron bars, and the deranged faces of other hopefuls yelling for blood. A younger version of his host was watching from above. He couldn¡¯t tell which of them was in control.


    What sluggish movements from Quertra. What lack of any decent form. She was trying to kill, but she didn¡¯t know how.


    Joyce refused to fight back. She held her Remark up defensively, but never did she swing.


    ¡°You¡¯re mocking me,¡± he said in Quertra¡¯s voice, ¡°you¡¯re mocking me¡±


    He didn¡¯t know if she could hear the words over the din. He didn¡¯t know if it was true.


    Suddenly, he unsummoned his Remark and went straight for Joyce¡¯s throat. The crowd held their breath as one. Joyce tried to move her Remark out of the way, or maybe at the last second she had finally decided to attack.


    The intent didn¡¯t matter. What happened next was that Joyce cut through his arm like butter.


    The crowd went wild. As they should have, it was a shockingly efficient move for someone who had spent the match whimpering.


    Free of any pain, the Wyrm could appreciate how clean of a cut it was. Staring down at Quertra¡¯s now severed arm (it was still difficult not to view it as his own) he let out a dull groan. How sickly it looked, how unlike the red weapon that had replaced it. From the shock, or potentially from blood loss, he fell down.


    From the ground he remembered Joyce screaming. From the ground he saw the crowd shake the bars and demand his execution. Joyce held out her Remark, and for a second, it could have gone either way.


    Joyce chose to die. Amidst a chorus of boos Joyce¡¯s body hit the ground, and he heard his own voice announce him as winner.


    ¡±I¡¯ll make it up to you,¡± he said in Quertra¡¯s voice, ¡°I promise, I¡¯ll do anything I can.¡±


    He spoke not to Joyce, but to Morgan.


    ¡­


    ¡±I feel lighter,¡± Quertra said as he came to, ¡°I can¡¯t remember the weight, but I think it¡¯s been lifted.¡±


    The Wyrm thought about the way Joyce smiled before she cut her own throat. There was no difference between that smile and the one at the festival. Or when they had first met, or their first date, or the day they had signed up to be part of the Legacy.


    ¡°Thats good Quertra,¡± he said, ¡°we¡¯ve done it, I am certain.¡±


    In a hundred years, he would be underground. He would be feasting on dirt, he would be tunneling towards the Visionary, ready to bite down on infinity.


    At the moment, he was a larvae puppeteering a man named Morgan, with memories he did not need.


    ¡°Would you mind leaving,¡± the Wyrm asked her, as gently as he could, ¡°I would like to be alone now.¡±

 Chapter 39: The Tuck Planche Sucks To Do But Is Important If You Want To Progress To A Full Planche

    In a pit surrounded by corpses, Devon thought idly about who she could beat in a foot race.


    ¡±All of them.¡± She tossed Adam in the air, willed him to fall back five times as fast, ¡°all of them at the same time.¡±


    She flipped Adam over in her hands. He had quite a few new scars, taken up space above the old ones. She didn¡¯t know if that was part of what made him qualify as the Remark Of Ruin, but he certainly fit the bill visually.


    ¡°No, with one foot tied behind my back!¡± She nodded, pleased with herself. ¡°Yeah, and blindfolded. Wouldn¡¯t make a difference. I¡¯d probably do even better.¡±


    She threw Adam up again, and caught him in the same manner. He hadn¡¯t said anything since Karol had transmigrated himself into The Visionary.


    ¡°I mean like, I¡¯m basically on a level above Constants now, something as dumb as a foot race would be easy for me.¡±


    ¡±But weren¡¯t you the one who suggested the foot race?¡± He said groggily.


    ¡°Aha! Finally talking!¡± She threw Adam to the farthest wall in triumph, he tore down 50 feet of supports and scaffolding along the way. ¡°I knew you¡¯d question me!¡±


    Adam bobbed back like a wounded float rat. He didn¡¯t respond. The part of her that he occupied had his usual ambient hum, a bit sharper than usual, but intentionally absent of any overt thoughts.


    She crouched down on the floor and leaned her face forward. ¡°What¡¯s up? Your thoughts are¡­¡± She tried to come up with the word. ¡°Spiky?¡± It felt like the inside of her skull was lined with needles. Soft needles, moreso a constant presence than it was a pain.


    He sighed, ¡°Several things.¡±


    ¡°Several things? Oh joy, and here I thought it was just one.¡± She shifted her balance to her hands until she was doing a planche tuck. The exercise vocab was all Adam. He was a treasure trove of physical improvement, though the work was all hers.


    ¡±First, where are we going after this?¡± His tone was withdrawn and patient, like he knew something she didn¡¯t. And, y¡¯know, he sort of did. She couldn¡¯t even imagine what it was like to be in the Visionary. It was no surprise it had affected him.


    ¡°Well, nowhere. We gotta kill Jeavell first.¡± The concrete floor was cold and slick; she had a hard time keeping her balance.


    ¡°And why do we have to?¡± He didn¡¯t need to say anything else. But he did. ¡°We can¡¯t let grudges wear us down. If you want to kill Jeavell, then we shall kill him at the source.¡± For Adam speeches it was brief, which was a mercy.


    She responded by shifting her planche into a handstand, she sprouted a smile. ¡°Yeah. I still want to kill him though.¡± Her knees shook as she pressed down hard. She was at a point skillswise where she *could* do a handstand, but not very well.


    A sudden jolt in her synapses. Like being shocked awake right before you fall asleep. She fell over and groaned. Less from the pain and more from the humiliation.


    ¡±You didn¡¯t need to do that,¡± she said, rubbing her neck.


    ¡±I did. You need to listen. Because, second, I saw my eternity. I saw where I came from and where I am going to. You always know I have been imbued with a glorious purpose.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± She loved him. He had spent half a year in her head, how could she not? But the Visionary was his obsession, not hers.


    She chanced standing up, balance still felt off.


    ¡±Being in the visionary reminded me that there can be no other way. To defeat the Grand is to stop the Remarks.¡±


    ¡°But won¡¯t that mean you¡¯ll die?¡± She asked.


    ¡±I¡¯ll get to sleep, what me, and, I assume, all Remarks want. It¡¯s impossible to describe, and I would only annoy myself if I tried to.¡± The mental equivalent of him shaking his head. ¡°I feel nothing but signs from you that you desire to return to Gutworth.¡±


    ¡°Damn right.¡± She got up, a clear gesture that she was ready to haul ass. Turning in a direction that felt like progress, Adam responded with a clear gesture of his own, slipping from her hand and blocking her way.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going back to Gutworth.¡±


    She sighed deep, gripping her thigh with one hand and rubbing her thumb and index finger to occupy the other.


    ¡°But I thought you wanted to leave the Helot?¡± She said, her voice suddenly high pitched and childish.


    ¡°Okay, this is why I didn¡¯t want to have this conversation with you.¡±


    She laughed. It couldn¡¯t be helped, Adams deviations from his ¡°wise but distant mentor¡± routine were always funny. ¡°Okay, so really. What''s the harm in killing Morgan then?¡±


    Adam moved forward till he was right at her nose. He was so close that staring at him made her cross eyed.


    ¡°How many bones have to break till you realize we¡¯re not invincible?¡±


    ¡°But like¡­ aren¡¯t we?¡± She was joking, but¡­ no, she wasn¡¯t. Adam¡¯s regenerative abilities made it so that she never had to worry about dying. ¡°I know I- I mean, we have limits. But I bet my ADM levels are way higher than-¡°


    ¡°You don¡¯t know how ADM works. We have been lucky and had allies. Now we¡¯re alone. There¡¯s no reason to think that luck will last.¡± He suddenly backed up, but she caught him between two of her fingers before he was out of grabbing distance, the smug sense of pride she got from it excused his monologue. ¡°Hailien scares me, but she is a powerful ally, and yet she¡¯s absent¡­¡±


    ¡±She never learned to relax. Don¡¯t hold it against her.¡± She weaved Adam through her fingers, imitating the knife tricks she had seen sailors do.


    ¡°But she¡¯s still your superior fighting-wise.¡±


    ¡±Crawl shit, we beat her fair and square.¡±


    Adam suddenly flew from her hand, knocking her back something nasty.


    ¡°We succeeded in running away from her in a training exercise.¡± He said sternly, back to floating in front of her.


    ¡±Yeahhh?¡± Devon said, like a student playing at ignorance.


    ¡±So if that were real, an actual fight, we would be dead. Especially considering she killed us over and over. The only reason that didn¡¯t stick is because she chose to bring us back. Every time, she brought us back.


    Now regretting getting him verbal again, she picked up a rock and threw it up and down to test the weight. A little bit heavier than Adam.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Using only her strength, Devon threw the rock against one of the bars supporting the complex lighting system. The rock barreled through the air with the strength of a cannon shot. It hit its target straight on. The bar snapped with a heavy thwack and when it fell so did the supports and a good thirty feet of ceiling. The wreckage flowed down like water and made a neat little triangular pile. Light streamed from a hole in the ceiling. With how chaotic the last hour or so had been, she had no idea if the hole had been made during the fight or if it had always been there. But now, the pile of debris made it accessible. So there.


    ¡°I made us an exit.¡±


    Something was whistling on the other side of the hole. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was a person or the shrill whistle of machinery. But it felt alive. It felt hungry.


    ¡°Well, the nightmares do not cease. Alright, lets postpone talk of the future. We¡¯ll save it for once we can actually leave the Helot.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡±You have many questions on the Remark Of Ruin, you¡¯ve been dodging the question. But I can tell you¡¯re curious.¡±


    Something about those words made Devon¡¯s skin crawl. It was unclear whose impulse it was, just as likely Adam as it was her. ¡°Did you understand what that asshole was talking about? That was just cryptic bullshit to make him sound smart. Nothing more to it.¡±


    ¡°Devon.¡± She was driven to recognize the quickness of her heart and the way her hand still gripped her thigh. ¡°Your body is more honest than your words.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Her vision adjusted as she stepped through the light.


    The whistling came from a massive machine pumping in water from below. The light was fluorescent leds from high above. The room was white and it was massive, shaped irregularly like a carved out cavern; large holes in the ground and massive square mountains, their positioning in the room somewhat haphazard. It didn¡¯t feel like the sort of thing made by intelligent hands. She leaned against the metal casing of a pumping piston.


    ¡°So¡­ the Remark of Ruin. What is it even?¡± All she could get at the moment was surface level feelings of dread and anxiety from him. Frustratingly familiar notes she wanted to flesh out and make foreign. ¡°I assume,¡± she said with a smile, ¡°that it¡¯s a Remark of some sort.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a myth concerning the end of the world. There was a nursery rhyme children used to sing, about¡­ well I would have to explain religious beliefs that I don¡¯t think are current anymore. Suffice to say, we believed the world would end if certain conditions were met.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha.¡± This was all new to her. ¡°I¡¯m not familiar, but I really don¡¯t get out much. So, what does it mean that Karol thought you were it? Should we panic? Celebrate?¡±


    ¡°I never took it to mean a specific Remark. It was a metaphor for something-¡° he caught himself suddenly, but Devon still felt the half-formed thoughts. Images of death, an evil only Adam could stop. ¡°I think the myth may have changed since my time. Lets hope this was a private delusion of his. People viewing us as messiahs or bringers of the end would only complicate things.¡±


    She didn¡¯t agree. Infamy fit her like a glove. Let them come! She could only get stronger.


    ¡±There is a limit,¡± Adam butted in. She sighed. Nothing she thought was left unchecked. It *had* to be questioned.


    She had found a passage in the white room, or a suggestion of a passage, it was two blocks close together whose placement felt intentional. She followed it and the blind turns that followed, her hand glued to the stucco wall.


    ¡±I¡¯m feeling something.¡±


    So was Devon. It was a third rhythm that joined their mental duet. But its tempo was all wrong. It was out of tune, actively hurting their composition.


    By the time the third rhythm was louder than Devon¡¯s running monologue, or Adam¡¯s steady pulse, the hallway ended in a blinding rectangle of light. Just like before, it was too bright and indistinct to tell if it was artificial or natural. It was an exit of some kind, but what it offered felt intolerable. The energy of it was fucked. A better alternative would have been to stay there and rot.


    A withered green hand stuck out from the light and beckoned forward.


    ¡±You should follow the nice stranger, Devon,¡± said her own voice.


    She looked down to see a mirror in the ground. There was a version of her, all smiles and bangs, her hands behind her back in that classic Devon way. The reflection was more real than her. Was she being upstaged?


    She turned around to leave. Another Devon blocked her. This one standing against a flat white wall. They had suddenly become boxed in. ¡°Don¡¯t fight it, Devon.¡± The reflection said.


    She punched herself. Her hand bounced off of it. It was hard as a slab of crystal, like punching a mirror.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Her image chuckled and put her hand against her mouth. ¡°I should have said you can¡¯t fight it.¡±


    ¡°What is-¡° Suddenly the wall with the laughing reflection pushed itself towards Devon, the reflection reaching out to her with a shrill giggle.


    On instinct, she ran. The only path available was that square void of light. The walls closed in as she approached, her body being compressed against hundreds of images of her own face, all laughing at her. She barely squeezed out in time before the two walls smashed into each other with a deafening crash.


    It was quiet now.


    She was in a white plane, nothingness stretched out on all sides contradictorily.


    The absence of everything was everywhere.


    The rhythm of that third mind still pulsed happily, making it clear they weren¡¯t alone.


    ¡°Where¡­ where are we now?¡± She said.


    ¡°Still in the Helot,¡± Adam said, his strong voice compensating for the phantom hum they both dealt with.


    ¡°Still in the Helot,¡± he repeated. Same cadence and everything, like a record being replayed. It didn¡¯t feel right. Nothing did.


    ¡±Okay.¡± She said, tapping her chest. ¡°That¡¯s- that¡¯s good.¡± Everything looked the same. Screw orienting yourself with landmarks, it was hard enough to tell where the floor ended and the walls began. ¡°But where are we exactly?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s someone''s Remark¡­ It¡¯s all smoke and mirrors¡­ mirrors¡­¡± His own rhythm faded a bit as he kept muttering those words over and over.


    Devon ran again, the echoes of her footsteps pointless and mocking. ¡°Okay, Adam. Please stay with me. We¡¯re in the Helot, that''s good. Thats fine. How do we get out?¡±


    ¡±Mirrors¡­ mirrors¡­ what would I see if I stared in a mirror. Mirrors, mirrors.¡± He droned on and on, the third rhythm changing its tempo to accommodate him, urging on his madness. It was louder than both of them, it¡¯s player more skilled.


    With a scream she threw Adam. He sailed fifty feet before dropping like a stone. Fuck. She skidded to a stop and picked him up.


    She tried snapping. It worked on humans. He stayed inert, lifeless. She couldn¡¯t hear him. ¡°Adam, I¡¯m not sure if this is the Visionary, this third voice in us, or just¡­¡± She exhaled hard and moved on. ¡°I need your help Adam, I really fucking do.¡±


    If Adam could hear her, it didn¡¯t show.


    In the far distance something clanged. The echo hit them before the image did. It expanded in width for a while till it was close enough for color to register. A thick red curtain, approaching like a wave on the horizon.


    For the third time, she ran.


    Heart pumping, blood vessels contracting, it was a lot like the countless times she had been scared before she met Adam, the only difference being that her body was more efficient in expressing her fear. The curtain ruffled behind her, metal scraping against marble in a pitch that kept ascending. It was gaining.


    It was accelerating. And now she was alone.


    ¡±You¡¯re not alone, Devon.¡±


    She tripped. The floor couldn¡¯t be blamed, it was the nerves. She rolled and recovered in a way that had become second nature, glancing up in time to see the curtain engulf her.


    Things were dark for a moment. She tried to move, and found she couldn¡¯t. She was sitting in a chair and her limbs were bound by something heavy.


    She heard music. Silly music. Like the theme song of an insipid diversion show.


    The lights turned on, she was in a room with walls of curtains. The floor pattern could only be described as tacky. A checkerboard pattern in varying shades of greens, whites, and pinks.


    Jeavell Death stood in all his scumbag glory in a surprisingly sharp white suit, proving that the rumors that she cleaned up nicely were true. Flat rectangles in the same tricolor scheme floated high above, their surface filled with cheering Devons. In front of her were three podiums, each had a Devon that was slightly off. Exaggerated caricatures that seemed to exist only to mock her.


    The harsh sound of feedback as Jeavell spoke. ¡°How can you be alone when you have these three beautiful contestants to fight over you? With one of them being lucky enough to walk away with your hand in melding, while you will walk away with a brand new ego, guaranteed!¡±


    The crowd of Devons went wild, confetti came down from nowhere.


    ¡°Mirrors, mirrors, mirrors¡­¡± Adam droned.

 Chapter 40: Get Nervous!

    Jeavell was wrapped in a weird combo of her Contrarian form and his slimy regular self. The left side of his face had that familiar smirk, the right a collection of shapes guarding a massive eye. Her sharp suit (complete with the emblem of a Wyrm on the left breast pocket) distorted into pixels around the sleeves. Jeavell turned so that Devon could only see his abstract side, and spoke to the audience above.


    ¡±Now, on this episode of Date With Death, we have something truly special! For the first time I won¡¯t be the bachelor.¡±


    The crowd booed Devon. She blinked rapidly, trying to remain centered. Jeavell quieted them down with a firm hand gesture.


    ¡°Okay, okay. I hear you, I don¡¯t love it either. But don¡¯t worry, seeing as I¡¯m still single at the moment, any one of you ladies are welcome to take me as a consolation prize.¡±


    The cheers were overwhelming, Devon couldn¡¯t bear it. Seeing her own image act as this Constants personal hype crowd was fucking demoralizing.


    Jeavell looked out at someone who simply wasn¡¯t there and gave a thumbs up. ¡°My line manager is telling me we¡¯re ready to start.¡± He saddled up to Devon, a crescent moon smile that sprouted into nonsense on one side. The cubes that restrained her prevented any action. So desperately did she want the strength to rip off these restraints and break Jeavell¡¯s neck.


    From the coherent side of her face Jeavell spoke, ¡°Now, you¡¯ve been causing quite a stir Devon Near. I¡¯m all for rule breakers, but some people think you¡¯ve been going too far with this, ¡°murdering your superiors as if they were lessers¡± song and dance. Care to comment?¡± He lowered the mic.


    And then shoved it into her face before Devon could speak, bloodying her nose. The feedback mixed with a muttered expletive as Jeavell pulled back, nodding like she had said something trenchant.


    ¡°Wow, what a firebrand! Let''s see who¡¯s trying to woo her heart today. Contestants?¡±


    Three spotlights came down on the competitors as the rest of the room grew dim.


    ¡°First up! Tevon Sleer!¡± Under the first spotlight, a stretched out version of Devon waved and blew kisses to the audience. ¡°Tell us about yourself, Tevon?¡±


    ¡°Well I started existing around six months ago, ever since a certain man entered my life.¡± The crowd gasped and oohed, savoring the gossip. ¡°But don¡¯t worry ladies, or should I say variations on the same lady, it¡¯s an open relationship.¡± She did a pronounced wink that made Devon shudder. ¡°Also, I enjoy using humor as a coping mechanism, and I think trauma is a myth.¡± The crowd applauded.


    ¡±Fantastic. For a reflection, you¡¯re quite well rounded!¡± Jeavell pinwheeled her arms and sauntered over to the next contestant, a scrappier version of Devon holding a comically large version of Adam in front of her face. ¡°Skevon Bleer, would you mind putting your guard down for a minute?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The reflection said, adamant on staying armed. ¡°If I do, you''ll kill me.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡­ that¡¯s true!¡± Again the crowd applauded. Jeavell laughed and leaned on the slab that housed Skevon. ¡°What does a charming rapscallion of indeterminate gender need to do to get a girl to lighten up a bit?¡±


    ¡°Die?¡± The crowd booed. Devon had to smile.


    ¡°That won¡¯t happen.¡± Jeavell said. He wiped non existent stains off her suit, as if cleaning away the previous question. ¡°Let''s talk about hobbies. What do you do for fun?¡±


    ¡°Hide. Cry. Breathe. But never too loud, if I breathe too loud they¡¯ll find me.¡± Skevon scrunched up her face. ¡°But then I¡¯ll gut them. I can fight now, I know how to stab. I cut and cut but they never stop coming. I get smaller every day, more spaces for me to hide. I won¡¯t be safe till there''s no one but me.¡± The crowd murmured amongst themselves. ¡°I watched my dad die.¡±


    Jeavell nodded sagely. The crowd applauded.


    ¡°Well, you bore me. Moving on!¡± She shooed her away, (but being a reflection on a crystal slab, she couldn¡¯t move) and moseyed on down to contestant number 3.


    ¡±Says here you go by ¡®The Fear.¡¯¡± This reflection of Devon was covered in blood and built like a brick shithouse.


    ¡°That''s correct ma¡¯am, it¡¯s because I put the fear in people. I kill people, see, and I like people to know it. Them being scared, it adds to the fun. Why do something if you don¡¯t like it?¡± She spoke with a strange folksy accent that Devon herself didn¡¯t possess. Skevon moved as far in her slab away from The Fear as she could.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t have said it better myself!¡± She slapped the slab. It was heftier than the others, fitting The Fear¡¯s larger physique.


    The Fear nodded, showing a confidence that even Devon was jealous of. ¡°I also want to shout out the concept of moral justification. Without it I wouldn¡¯t have the body you see today.¡± The crowd cheered in a flirtatious manner.


    ¡±I think we all owe it to moral justification, am I right ladies?¡± Jeavell said it like a euphemism.


    Devon prowled the limits of her freedom, tensing and untensing her trapped hands, desperate to escape this ridiculous nightmare of forced reflection. She begged Adam to wake up, he was too busy chanting ¡°the mirror, the mirror¡­¡±


    ¡°Devon.¡± The spotlight fell on her, Devon lowered her gaze to the ground. ¡°What do you most want to see in yourself?¡±


    She knew this was coming but it didn¡¯t make an answer any easier. It felt foolish to lie, but even dumber to tell the truth. ¡°Preferably free. Able to murder you, if possible.¡±


    The crowd burst into applause, slabs rattling.


    ¡°I agree with that.¡± Skevon said.


    ¡°the mirror, the mirror¡­¡± Adam said. His voice was getting louder, his cadence more insistent.


    ¡±And perhaps that will happen, but perhaps not,¡± Jeavell said as she rubbed his temples. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re done with this, lets-¡°


    ¡±No we¡¯re not!¡± Devon yelled. There was a popping sound in her brain, she knew something had snapped inside her. ¡°I¡¯m fucking sick of this! I¡¯ve been spending the last few hours dealing with you fuckers doing your ridiculous mind games and for what?? If this is supposed to teach me something, I HAVEN¡¯T LEARNED SHIT.¡±


    The audience was silent as they were lifted out of view. Devon continued ranting, barely aware of what was happening around her.


    ¡°You say this is about me? HOW AND WHY??? You¡¯re a pompous asshole who likes the sound of their own voice, you know nothing about who I am.¡±


    Adam had stopped talking.


    Jeavell stared down at Devon, her face unguarded, the abstract miasma mostly gone. Shockingly clear of any put on, he looked almost embarrassed. He coughed awkwardly and looked to the contestants. ¡°Well now, what''s your answer to that?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡±Buy me dinner first!¡± Tevon said, playing to the (now empty) stands.


    ¡±Breathing is a threat, few know this. If you all held your breath and asphyxiated I would be a happy woman forever and ever.¡± Skevon said, her version of Adam waving in the nonexistent breeze. Its cardboard backside was showing.


    ¡±I think we should murder Jeavell together, and then I¡¯ll take her corpse, for personal reasons.¡± The Fear said.


    In a brain now silent, a familiar rhythm returned.


    ¡°Devon¡­ what happened?¡±  Adam said.


    She wanted to scream in relief, but was able to contain herself. Jeavell turned suddenly, having heard Adam¡¯s words.


    ¡°Don¡¯t-don¡¯t worry about it, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re back¡± He vibrated uselessly in the concrete as Jeavell walked forward with intention. Adam being conscious was cold comfort if he couldn¡¯t do anything.


    ¡±This place is strange¡­ the color of this curtain so achingly familiar. Something beyond the Visionary¡­¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for that, can you get out of the ground?¡±


    Mumbling words that could have been sacred hymns or a bawdy limerick, the provocative full body figure of the Morrison appeared in Jeavell¡¯s hand. The fucking liar.


    ¡±I¡­ I¡¯m as stuck as you I think.¡±


    Jeavell brandished her Remark, a smokey bayonet smashed up with an oil belching generator and a motorized guitar. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. But I am not a liar. My position in the Legacy means shit and my Remark reflects that. But my position with the Contrarians needle is very good, I¡¯m respected by a Wyrm, and he has gifted me something far stronger.¡± He flashed blood black teeth, a look that suited her. ¡°My ADM levels are higher than they¡¯ve ever been.¡±


    ¡±Wait¡­ Devon, at the risk of death for both of us, do I have your permission to try something?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Devon said.


    ¡±What.¡± Jeavell said in unison, looking just as confused.


    ¡°Sure. Sure! Whatever you want, just do it!¡± Devon screamed.


    Jeavel readied the Morrison with a ripcord pull, smoke belched out like an evacuation. The three reflections, giddy with bloodlust, pressed against their slab confines and moaned.


    ¡°Okay¡± and then Adam disappeared. Not from sight, he was already encased in the cubes, but from mind, from touch. Devon¡¯s mind felt very empty.


    A second later he came back with a pop, floating right in front of Jeavel.


    He launched at Jeavell¡¯s unabstracted eye, drilling into the cornea as the Constant screamed.


    The blocks restraining Devon melted into the ground. The three slabs were still there, looking confused as to why they still existed. Didn¡¯t matter. She was already close to Jeavel and only had to run a few steps to join in on the fun.


    WHUMP!


    The Morrison came down from her right, and she was whacked promptly left into the slabs. The middle slab did not serve as a cushion, and she heard what might have a neck bone breaking. From a blurry angle, she saw the three reflections laughing at her from up high, pointing down at where she lay.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I was gonna ask for your hand in consciousness.¡± Tevon said, laughing like a landlord.


    ¡±I can¡¯t believe I was gonna ask to slip between your cerebral.¡± Skevon said, chortling like a thief.


    ¡±And I can¡¯t believe I was gonna- hey wait.¡± The three slabs cracked and shuddered. Jeavell was behind them, on a pillar slowly rising to the sky.


    Their slabs all shattered at once, leaving only the outlines of the forms. They had all been freed.


    ¡°Well this has been a fun show but it¡¯s time for our final round: whoever kills Devon becomes Devon.¡±


    ¡°Oh fuck¡± Devon got up and called for Adam. He landed with familiar heft. ¡°I half blinded her! How is he still doing this?¡±


    More than just remaining stable, The Reflections were now being refined. Their crystal bodies smoothed and shrink wrapped around their projected reflections. Soon they were unrecognizable from flesh and blood.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, don''t care.¡± Devon said. She backed up to get a lay of the land, pointing Adam at the reflections while her other hand fanned her face.


    Skevon was the first to strike. Being the smallest, there was less of her to refine, and so she was on Devon first while the other two were still finishing.


    She gnashed her teeth and lunged. Devon caught her by the head and slammed her to the ground. With a swift stomp the reflection shattered. Dead.


    Crunching on her sister¡¯s remains, Tevon toddled up with a laugh. She wielded her version of Adam like a joke, the punchline landing too quickly to dodge. There was barely time for a counterattack, Tevon was a one woman army, slashing faster than one could count.


    Devon tried jumping over Tevon. The reflection responded with a wink and a throw.


    It clipped her ankle and Devon hit the floor harshly.


    Her head to the ground, standing on one knee, arm grasping at a shoulder, Adam sprawled next to her.


    Adam covered by Tevon¡¯s shadow.


    ¡±Well, they always told me otherwise, but I guess a laugh will always beat a frown.¡±


    Devon stayed where she was, watching intently as Tevon¡¯s shadow slid across the floor, rising till all she saw was that black. Tevon¡¯s breath smelled like artificial flowers.


    ¡±How about you show me a smile, Devon. Enough with this grimdark seriousness, we know that¡¯s not you. Or it won¡¯t be anymore. Come on, show that you can laugh at a joke at your own exp-¡°


    Devon turned whistle fast, her arm coming down like a guillotine. She got all of Tevon¡¯s torso and some of the left leg in a diagonal slice. The reflection froze like a statue. Only her eyes moved as they tracked the slow slide of her top half, about to plummet to the floor.


    The Fear burst through Tevon¡¯s form before it fell, obliterating the whole reflection.


    The Fear pointed at her version of Adam with pride, it was bloated and pungent, more than 10 feet long. ¡°Hello Ma¡¯am. This gives me the authority to kill. I kill to give myself authority. It¡¯s a palindrome, and it hurts like reality.¡±


    The Palindrome slammed to the ground, creating a crack that formed and chased Devon as she backpedaled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what a palindrome is!¡± Devon grunted and tried to get in a quick swipe. The Fear put her Palindrome up as a shield and then swept it forward, sending floor flying in the process. Blood spattered the polished weapon. Devon winced and checked her shoulder. It would heal, it would heal.


    Another thrust by The Fear, this one riskier, her target was out of range and she had to stoop just to try and connect. The tip landed at Devon foot. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Devon hoisted Adam close to her chest and ran up The Fear¡¯s palindrome, meeting her grinning mouth with a fist to the teeth.


    She tried to lodge Adam in The Fear¡¯s massive skull, but it didn¡¯t give. The reflection was made out of sturdier stuff than the others. Devon was yanked back by a hand, she turned quickly and bit and chewed until she was the one holding firm.


    ¡±Embarrassing. I admire the attempt but delaying the inevitable only hurts both of us.¡± She heard the whoosh of the air as The Fear¡¯s Palindrome was raised. She had Adam where he needed him, her hands busy keeping The Fear¡¯s own spread and prone. It was a plan they had decided on without even speaking. Though when he buried into her ankle, creating the hold necessary for what was to come, she couldn¡¯t help but think there had to be a better way.


    ¡°Lighter.¡± Just as the blade came down, Devon was pulled up by Adam, who used his perch in Devon to yank her out of harms way. The blade found a target, but it wasn¡¯t the one the wielder wanted.


    Devon¡¯s scream was loud, but it was nothing compared to The Fear. ¡°My arm, my fucking arm!¡±


    Standing up and surveying the scene, Devon felt lucky The Fear had only skimmed her.


    The Fear had sliced her own arm clean off. Obviously her Palindrome could do a lot of damage. Perhaps someday¡­


    With the Fear on both knees, frantically pawing at her arm and trying to reattach it, the next few seconds were easy.


    With the subtle boost of Adam (accounting for the ankle wound he had caused) Devon jumped and landed on The Fear¡¯s head. She scurried around to the back of her, wrapped her arms arround her head, and pulled. As soon as she got her moving there was no way to reverse it, and the massive form of The Fear toppled backwards.


    She broke on impact. With a clean dismount Devon avoided the shrapnel.


    The curtains were miles in the distance. Jeavell was nowhere in sight, and his rhythm felt just as far away.


    With trepidation, Adam flew over to where The Fear¡¯s Palindrome laid. The faux Remark was melting like an egg, seeping into the cracks in the concrete. He wiggled his large end, his way of showing dismissal. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look anything like me.¡±


    ¡°Some reflection.¡±

 Chapter 41: Devon meets Devon

    The game show set shifted away, Jeavell¡¯s broad face kept smiling even as it faded from existence.


    It was all gone, leaving Devon alone with her twin heart beats.


    ¡±Suppose any direction will do.¡± She said.


    It didn¡¯t take long before they saw something on the horizon.


    It was a crystal castle, like something out of a storybook, or what buildings must have looked like when the Grand was in their prime. Massive spires corkscrewed up out of sight, readable architecture clashed with raw slabs of ametrine, round windows peering out of harsh graphite walls, surrounded by a garden of malachite. Wide frames of angelite were walls that curved into and merged with the castle, smaller houses of obsidian sitting like bouquets inside. A cluster of blue kyanite hovering above served as the sky.


    ¡°That¡¯s clearly a trap.¡±


    ¡°You know a surprising amount about crystals.¡±


    Being able to identify each type was not something Devon ever assumed herself capable of. It was Adam, his knowledge seeping into her brain like water on bread.


    ¡°You¡¯re ignoring my statement. Why are we walking towards it?¡±


    He was being extra snippy today. Well Devon couldn¡¯t blame him.


    ¡°It¡¯s been an awfully strange two hours, hasn¡¯t it?¡± She said, wiping blood from her mouth.


    The sound of her footsteps rebounded off walls she couldn¡¯t see. The sky was blank and aside from some scuff marks, so was the floor. At least the castle was something, she could really go for something tangible.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like the signatures I¡¯m getting from there.¡±


    ¡°Oh, does it reek of Jeavell?¡± She assumed the wannabe lothario had given up on conventional means of murder, and was now aiming for her to die of boredom.


    ¡°It reeks of¡­ it¡¯s hard to say, I still don¡¯t fully understand Needles, their smells are richer than Remarks, but muddier too.¡±


    ¡°Were there a lot of them back in your day?¡± Adam seemed familiar with them.


    ¡°Wyrm Lords used them.¡±


    She smiled. Devon didn¡¯t expect that name to be evoked. ¡°My dad told me Wyrm Lords never existed, that it was um, propaganda to demonize anyone who opposed the Grand Council.¡± She broke into a light jog.


    ¡°I am telling you they existed, and I am telling you they were something to fear.¡± His tone tight in her brain. He was more concerned than her. Not a new dynamic, not at all, but, well,


    there was a small speck running in circles in front of the castle. Who could that be?


    ¡±I killed myself three times back there.¡± A good thing to get off your chest, no matter the situation.


    As if it had heard her, the strange little splotch near the castle stopped, and ran for her at breakneck speed.


    ¡±Watch it.¡±


    ¡°I see them, I see them.¡± She got into her dueling pose as a mere formality. It was clearly just a person, probably a placebo. A scared looking boy, he kept turning back to the castle, as if expecting someone to pop out and grab him.


    She didn¡¯t need Adam to clock this guy wasn¡¯t a threat.


    ¡°The smell¡¯s getting thicker.¡±


    With impossible stillness, an aberration stumbled out from behind the crystal castle.


    It was a lumbering, unathletic sort. 4 heads connected by fuzzy necks to a body low to the ground, 3 legs on each side. It was made out of crystals.


    ¡±A Hydra.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow that¡¯s-¡°


    ¡±Can you fight??¡± The kid had run right to her. In his hand a foul smelling Remark, roughly axe shaped.


    Adam groaned, like he had suddenly been shoved. She didn¡¯t know why.


    The Hydra, as Adam called it, was moving towards them in an altogether unintimidating manner. The heads swaying in the air, always on the verge of getting tangled.


    ¡°Can you fight??¡± He grabbed her shoulders, his hands shockingly cold.


    ¡±Yeah, yeah I can actually.¡± Adam had gone quiet. She got out of her pose and turned towards the Hydra. Whatever was happening here was hers to deal with.


    ¡±Good, good. I¡¯ll run interference, do the hard part basically. All you need to do is jump up there and cut off the heads at the neck. Make sure to get all four.¡±


    There was something about the boy that put her at ease. It was rare to see someone with her exact brown skin tone. Outside of a few of the fishermen and dockworkers, Gutworth¡¯s prevailing colors were white, blue, and green. Though she had seen people with purple and orange complexions on occasion. Once she had seen someone whose skin was a checkerboard pattern of black and white, but she doubted they had been born like that.


    She stretched her arms, Adam facing forward like an extension of her hand, ¡°How¡¯d you end up here?¡±


    ¡±Talk later,¡± the Hydra had picked up speed, and up close it suddenly didn¡¯t seem as laughable.


    The boy made good on his side of the plan, yelling and hooting enough to distract a majority of the heads. He jumped over their scattered snaps and half hearted bites. It was impressive.


    Certainly not the hard part.


    She bolted to the Hydra. She could still use Adam, both as a Remark and as a power source, but he had remained silent. What to make of that? What to make of this;


    She slid under the left back leg of the beast.


    One of the heads followed, its mouth jagged crystals that snapped wide. She jumped over it and slashed straight through the neck on the descent. Head no.1 dealt with. 3 more to go.


    The boy was doing something that made the Hydra back up. Bad news for her, she scuttled out from below and was greeted by head no.2. The head bared teeth sharper than the last. She faked left and tried to go right.


    The head checked her and she was close to falling. It rocketed towards her and she kept her balance by ramming Adam through the top lip.


    She hoisted herself up. The Hydra bled rubies.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing great!¡± The boy yelled, facing the other two heads.


    She stuck out her tongue. Head no.2 shook off the blood loss with another attempt at swallowing her whole. She took Adam, jammed him into the cheek, and with an urge, sent him flying out of her hand and down the neck.


    She didn¡¯t stop there. She shoved Adam through the now gaping open wound down to the Hydra¡¯s stomach, and just went wild. With a wave of her hand she made him go ham on the things internal organs.


    A two octave scream by the remaining heads as their body failed them. Adam burst out of the other side like a surprise in a cake.


    Now that was the hard part.


    The kid approached, looking appropriately shocked by how easily she handled it. ¡°Wow¡­ you said you knew how to fight, I shouldn¡¯t have doubted you.¡±


    ¡±Why would you?¡± She said, her tone haughty. If Adam was verbal he¡¯d check her ego, thank Grand he wasn¡¯t.


    He gave her a once over, his eyes lingering on her breasts. The attention wasn¡¯t unwelcome. ¡°Oh yeah, I guess¡­ I haven¡¯t seen a lot of other people.¡± He turned away from her, his face in profile strangely flat, the way his mouth opened in a wedge didn¡¯t help, ¡°hey guys, you can come out now.¡±


    From a large pink crystal rock scampered out hundreds of dancing crystals. They were little crystal people, no two alike. They frolicked and jumped around, circling Devon and the kid. It felt too adorable for an empty void.


    ¡±Devon, you did it!¡± Said one of them, its voice strangely deep.


    She was about to ask how it knew her name when the kid answered, ¡°Well thankfully I had help, what was your name?¡± The kid said, there were a bundle of the crystal people in his arms, playing and laughing.


    ¡°Um, Devon.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s odd,¡± he said, his tone not letting on that he found it so, ¡°that''s my name too.¡±


    Things shifted into focus. The half remembered face suddenly so clear.


    So this is what she would look like today, if she had never changed.


    ¡­


    ¡°I remember being in a place very different from this. Nothing but faces contorted into pits and lights that burned.¡±


    They were in a small alcove of the castle, situated in front of a glass wall that revealed a bustling market place full of crystal folk. Other Devon was telling her what he remembered. It wasn¡¯t much.


    ¡±Honestly, I thought that was normal for people.¡± He played with his Remark, the eye on the axe now undeniable. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s normal for people to encounter other thems.¡±


    The eye of her father seemed to wink at her.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Not in my experience,¡± Devon said, even though the last few hours had been filled with nothing but.


    ¡°Hey, how did you-¡° He gestured vaguely towards her body, ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a polite way to ask this.¡±


    ¡±When and how I became a girl you mean.¡±


    He had a stupid smile on his face, and nodded lazily. ¡°Yeah, uh, that. How?¡±


    Devon put a hand to her chest. ¡°Well, this may sound ridiculous, but I fell into a river, and I came out with a body that¡­ suited me better, you could say.¡± She didn¡¯t mention Capacity, or even that this body had an owner before her. She didn¡¯t mention that that was why Adam sought her out. She especially didn¡¯t mention that it was only recently that her body had started to feel like her own.


    ¡°That¡¯s not ridiculous. My only friends have been talking rocks. I¡¯m in no place to judge.¡±


    ¡°So you ended up here when?¡±


    ¡±When I was a kid, years ago.¡± It felt like there was more to it, but Other Devon didn¡¯t divulge.


    Beneath the fogged windows crystal folk paraded one of the heads of the Hydra through the street. They had it in a crystal wheelbarrow unfit for the task, pushed by a crystal folk even more ill suited.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been helping them, it¡¯s all I¡¯ve ever known really. They¡¯re my family, but they¡¯re fragile. They break easily, so I had to learn to fight.¡± He flexed decent biceps, through he was slightly scrawnier than her. In a perverse sort of way, it made her feel superior.


    ¡°Same, well, not exactly.¡± She held up Adam, ¡°So this guy found me. My Remark was similar to yours, just weaker. He gave me his Remark.¡± Not a lie, just avoiding a far more complicated truth.


    ¡°Oh, can I see your original Remark?¡±


    She jolted up, rail straight. The thought terrified her. It was like he had asked her to strip.


    With a smile, she played it off as well as she could by leaning back and placing sweaty palms out of sight. ¡°Naw, it''s not much to see. Adam¡¯s the only Remark I need.¡±


    The thought of summoning her original Remark was interesting, just not in front of herself. She pictured her Remark and his, staring each other down and giving the meanest stink eyes. It was actually pretty funny. Everything else about the idea terrified her, but that image was funny.


    Other Devon leaned forward, the small wooden chair creaked underneath him. ¡°Is it okay if I see him for a second? Hold him, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Um, sure.¡± She handed Adam off to Other Devon. ¡°Be careful around the edges, he¡¯s very sharp.¡± She brought up her hands as proof, she was covered in scars. Some recent, some scabbed over, some clearly infected.


    The Other Devon whistled like she just did a handstand. He placed Adam¡¯s sharp edge on his smooth brown skin, balancing the silent Remark on his palm.


    ¡°You¡¯ve both been through a lot.¡± He pressed down hard, and Adam broke through the skin. Healthy pink blood bled out and dripped down, staining the floor.


    Reflections, from her limited experience, did not bleed.


    With his other hand he engulfed Adam, and with a flick of his wrist he had him in a crude dueling pose. The sort of stance Devon would have taken as a kid. Back when she knew nothing but thought she knew everything.


    It took a considerable amount of willpower to not draw attention to the blood. ¡°Hey, let me show you something.¡± She got up and walked behind, skillfully positioning his body till he was striking the dueling stance that Adam had drilled into her. ¡°It may feel weird, but we¡¯ve killed some unmeasurably powerful people with that stance.¡±


    ¡±I wish I could be like you. Actually doing things that matter.¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t sell yourself short, you¡¯ve been protecting these guys.¡± She glanced out the window. Outside, the wheelbarrow had fallen over and several of the crystal folk were pinned under the Hydra head, struggling to get free.


    Huh. Something had clearly gone wrong since her last look a moment ago. ¡°Hey, speaking of, you might wanna help them out.¡±


    Other Devon didn¡¯t even bother checking the scene outside, his expression made it clear that being in crisis was the default for the crystal folk. He sighed, and dropped Adam on his chair as he got out of the stance. ¡°Never a dull moment. I¡¯ll be back in a bit.¡± He gave a mock salute practically flung himself down the stairs and out of sight.


    As soon as he was gone, Adam came to life gasping for breath.


    ¡±Thank Grand, I thought he would never leave.¡±


    ¡°Welcome back,¡± she said warmly. She watched out the window to the courtyard, waiting for her others to show. ¡°I didn¡¯t hear him in my head at all, you didn¡¯t have to mask yourself.¡±


    ¡±That''s the trouble, I wasn¡¯t. His signature was so like yours that it canceled my own perception. I couldn¡¯t think, I couldn¡¯t feel, I was trapped in a bag of deprivation that only opened when he was nice enough to leave.¡±


    He floated up next to her and tapped on the window pane with his tip. ¡°Devon, why did he leave?¡±


    ¡°The crystal folk, um, kind of got crushed?¡± She motioned to the Hydra head.


    Other Devon ran into view in a panic. Getting into a squatting position, he slowly tipped the head upward, creating enough negative space for the pinned crystal folk to slip out unharmed. Exhausted, he released his hold and the head fell hard, shattering into hundreds of pieces.


    ¡°I see, I see.¡± He pivoted to her. ¡°Why are we humoring this charade?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ he¡­ we don¡¯t know how to leave.¡± The crystal folk had formed a ring around him and were doing some sort of dance. The smallest crystal folk jumped up and landed in Other Devons arms, who cradled it like a baby. ¡°And he¡¯s, you know, interested in the outside world. He¡¯s never seen it.¡±


    Adam sputtered, if he had saliva she would have been sprayed with spittle. ¡°He¡¯s puppeteered by a Constant, he only started existing when we saw him and he¡¯ll stop existing as soon as we leave.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± she said, ¡°so how is this any different from a placebo?¡±


    ¡±The placebos were here first.¡± He said plainly. ¡±And they weren¡¯t controlled by something¡­ well, not initially.¡±


    Sick of getting into moral arguments with him (she always seemed to lose), she tried a different approach. ¡°Okay, I get what you mean when it comes to the other reflections, they were bad jokes come to life, but this ones different. Yeah, clearly he¡¯s not real, but he thinks he is. That¡¯s gotta count for something.¡±


    She looked down at him. The way he¡¯d shake his hair and brush it away from his eyes, even when there was nowhere to brush. There were a thousand other little details, but that was the one. It wasn¡¯t a behavior she had ever seen in herself, and maybe that was why it felt so important.


    ¡±He¡­ has had a whole life here, or, atleast, he thinks he does.¡± She turned away from the window. Somehow, discussing the ethics of killing a kid was harder when you could see them.


    ¡±I never said we had to kill him.¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s controlled by Jeavell it¡¯s inevitable.¡± she held her hands out to the ceiling and clenched down like she was pulling on two invisible handles. Her pecs pumped, her triceps bulged. If only she had some weight to pull right now. She needed to see if this place had a gym once Jeavell was dead. ¡°He bled by the way. Bright pink.¡±


    This threw him. He skidded by the window (leaving a nasty gash on the pane) ¡°I need to see- oh, you mean right here.¡±


    He sampled the blood oh the floor (dipping his tip into it, letting it soak into his cracks) and his rhythm skipped a beat.


    ¡°Weird, right?¡±


    ¡°That is concerning.¡±


    ¡°He''s clearly not a reflection,¡± she stressed the word clearly, stretching it out till it was at risk of snapping. ¡°Not in the same way as the others.¡±


    ¡°And he has your body. The one from before you fell into the Shifting Waters?¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah, if a bit older.¡±


    He hovered in the air, not saying anything. The pink blood leaked out. It dripped down to the floor at the rate of his rhythm. Plop. Plop.


    ¡°We need to leave.¡±


    All at once footsteps soldiered up the stairs. Adam¡¯s rhythm retreated as the steps got closer.


    ¡°I understand exactly what is going on.¡±


    But whatever it was Devon did not hear. He was already gone.


    Other Devon burst in, looking like he had experienced three nights of insomnia in the span of three minutes.


    ¡°Devon 2!¡± He said, his fingers tapping restlessly on the walls.


    ¡°Just call me Devon, I¡¯ll do the same for you.¡±


    He shook his head and turned away slightly. There was a strange passivity to his gaze, nothing here holding his interest. What the Grand had happened outside?


    ¡°I met someone else, they just showed up, they say they''re a friend of ours.¡± He breathed heavily, his hands rattled. ¡°Two new people in one day, after years of seeing no one. Wow¡­ wow!¡±


    ¡±Wait, who are they?¡± Devon called after him. He was already halfway down the stairs.


    His voice echoed back, ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll know her I think, she looks just like you. She says her name is-¡°


    ¡­


    Capacity sat cross legged on a mound of graphite which rose up from the floor like a scab.


    They were outside the castle gates. Other Devon was fawning, tapping his hand to his leg as he lead the way. ¡°She says she¡¯s the one you got your body from. Pretty neat, huh?¡±


    To someone like Other Devon, sure. You could call it neat. He didn¡¯t have to live with the implications. He would never be reminded.


    Obviously this one was a Jeavell reflection. It had his handiwork, the over considered movement, the uncanniness that made the similarities all the more taxing. None of the fear she got when thinking of Capacity was prompted by this reflection. Just a slightly taller, nicer version of herself with a floral dress and a big sunhat, for some reason. Didn¡¯t really seem like a Capacity thing to be dressed for the beach, but this was all Jeavell¡¯s doing, his info on Capacity was probably as limited as hers. Really, all she knew about Capacity is she never wanted to meet her.


    Good thing she was dead. Or, at least, one would assume.


    As Devon walked up Capacity unfurled a blanket and placed it in front of her as if they were about to have a picnic.


    ¡°Welcome, welcome. Care for refreshments?¡±


    Capacity raised a pitcher. Within a moment Adam had shattered it. Yellow liquid stained the hill and trickled down in runny streams.


    ¡°Devon? What are you-¡°


    She didn¡¯t answer Other Devon. A single slash was all it took. Capacity, this reflection calling itself Capacity, shattered.


    ¡±NO!¡± Other Devon ran as quick as he could, but when he arrived all that was left of her was dust.


    The kid fell on his hands and knees and groaned like he was gonna faint.


    ¡°She told me that she had a secret to tell me, and that she wanted you to hear it too.¡± He looked up, tears were welling in his eyes but he was trying his best to stop it, ¡°do you know what it¡­¡± he hung his head down, the last word a shudder.


    This was bad. There was a level of tact she could have used that she had completely disregarded. This was the sort of thing Adam would chide her about. Complicated feeling to have him absent now. Of all the times¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Listen, she was bad news, and not even real.¡± With Adam she motioned to the very inorganic remains, ¡°I don¡¯t think her secret was real. People lie or talk through their ass all the time.¡±


    ¡±Thats an awful world.¡±


    She sighed, sweeped the glass away with her feet. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to stay here instead.¡±


    ¡±But I don¡¯t want to. Why should I let you have all the fun?¡± He swayed back and forth, like a hanging body left to dry.


    ¡°Okay, then lets go.¡± She stamped once on the mound and did her best impression of someone with her shit together. ¡°Lets leave together, I know where to go.¡±


    ¡±I don¡¯t think you do. Capacity did. She said your body was once hers. She was gonna lead us out¡­ but then you killed her.¡± There was no anger in his voice. He was speaking as if this was a clear assessment of the situation. Was it?


    ¡±Yeah cause she-¡° She stopped herself from saying that wasn¡¯t the real Capacity. It would only lead to more questions if she actually told him the truth. ¡°I have history with her.¡±


    ¡°No you don¡¯t¡± He said. ¡°You¡¯ve never seen me before.¡±


    Her heart dropped like a stone.


    His face was still covered by his hair, but there was a clear change in his everything. His limbs were now poised, ready to strike. His voice possessing an authority that clearly didn¡¯t fit. Something was very wrong.


    The white sky darkened until it was the same shade as the mound. Other Devon raised his head slowly, drawing out the moment until she saw the glint in his eyes. They were bright purple.


    ¡°Question,¡± He said, his arms unfurling as his head tilted to the left. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s only fair, that if someone took my body, that I should then take theirs?¡±

 Chapter 42: Devon Kills Devon

    Her stomach was burning. Her eyes couldn¡¯t focus. There was no way Capacity was Other Devon. A fucked up trick courtesy of Jeavell. She¡¯d tell him that, that''s what she¡¯d do. ¡°The reflection put you up to this. This is all fake.¡±


    ¡±But your heart rate isn¡¯t¡±, Other Devon said.


    He took a step forward, Devon gave up the ground. ¡°I can hear your heartbeat, Devon. Mine was 35 resting. Yours has to be quadruple that right now. Does it take that much effort just to stand? My body¡­ what are you doing with my body?¡±


    ¡±It¡¯s not fucking yours!!¡± Devon lashed out with Adam, aiming for Other Devon¡¯s cheeks. Her strike was delivered at 80 mph, her form so precise that it could have severed a single string from a cupboard wide tangle.


    Other Devon grabbed her hand. His grip was like cold fire. ¡°Ask Adam about the red laps in Shibboleth, or the Spire of Doubt that ate Kravensburg, ask him how he failed me, ask him why I¡¯m no longer his user.¡± He sprained her arm and ducked away laughing.


    ¡°Give it up, you¡¯re not her!¡± she yelled after him. He was running away, yet every few minutes he would look back with a smile to make sure she was still following.


    Behind them the castle crumbled.


    She jumped up and aimed for his head. He caught Adam in his teeth and shook him free from her hand like a dog before flinging him away. He clattered to the floor far in the background.


    Rack-focus on Adam, then back to Other Devon. He opened his mouth wide and Devon swore she saw eyes back there, Calamity peering out from her puppet. He shoulder checked her, and then like the veritable abyss his open mouth consumed her vision and bit down hard on her nose.


    She kicked him back a good ten feet and was relieved to find he hadn¡¯t torn anything major. Adam fell back into her hand. She used him as a mirror and confirmed there was a new scar.


    ¡±That''s one thing we have in common,¡± Other Devon said, crawling up slowly, ¡°our history. We were both pawing at scraps in the beginning.¡± The crawl became an awkward trot, ¡°we thought we were entitled to entitlement, like every beggar, but value is ever so elusive when your lineage can¡¯t pay for shit.¡± He summoned his Remark, her Remark, the dead fish with her father¡¯s eyes. His dueling stance mirrored hers perfectly.


    Then he lunged.


    The attack was all piss and no vinegar, her father¡¯s pupil dilated to the point where his eye was the room but she was not afraid.


    ¡°We have it in common because we¡¯re the same fucking person.¡± Devon blocked the attack with her arms. His Remark, her Remark, whatever it was it was so grand slimy. A miserable weapon to be attacked with. With a grunt her arms crossed each other into an x shape and she pushed forward, throwing him back until he slid to a stop and staked his Remark into the ground.


    Giving her a smirk that felt achingly familiar, he asked, ¡°Who are you to argue, Devon? Were you or were you not a desperate little orphan who threw their body down a magical river? You wanted to die down there.¡±


    ¡°Yeah but I lived and I lived and it¡¯s your fucking problem now.¡± Devon didn¡¯t catch that she repeated herself. If she did she would have cared. But adrenaline carried her to the point that even her expletives were on autopilot.


    She attacked him again and again, but at the culmination of each attack she couldn¡¯t commit. There was something in his trick, or maybe it was difficult to commit to butchering your own face. Your previous face. Was it taken from her or did she throw it away along with the bath water?


    The landscape pulsed obscenely.


    Other Devon spoke, ¡°I have always been a being with the modus operandi of living. That''s why we connected, I gave him life, he gave me a symbol, together we killed monster¡¯s names and buried their history. The name Forthcoming Martyr Gabriel means nothing now. At the time, it could win you a fiefdom.¡±


    He dodged another strike, Adam slipped out and he dodged, dodged, dodged again. Sliding off the black hill with style as the pulsing went from uncommon to the status quo (you could measure it out to a pulse a second at this point)


    Devon followed afterwards, going slower and with less care. ¡°Wow, what a in depth conversation you had with her, this is all clearly crawl shit and I¡¯m not even gonna-¡°


    ¡°First Acolyte of Serach? An eyebrow raise at best. See, you¡¯re doing one now!!¡±


    No one cares. Through a quick jaunt to the Visionary she transported Adam to her other hand instantly.


    Then it was stab stab stab your cubital fossa is gushing.


    ¡°I guess it is.¡± Other Devon looked down at his bleeding arm, the pink blood like a water spout. He blocked the next few jabs with his leg, roundhouse kicking her and effortlessly walking backwards at the same time.


    It was effortless till Adam caught his leg. It broke with a snap and he curdled to the floor.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame that I can¡¯t talk to Adam. You know what I¡¯d say?¡±


    ¡±Shut up¡±


    ¡°Adam, it¡¯s Capacity.¡±


    ¡±SHUT UP¡±


    ¡±Why is this child wearing my skin?¡±


    ¡±IT''S MINE ITS MINE ITS MINE¡± She threw Adam with such force she toppled to the ground. He disappeared in front of Other Devon, and reappeared behind him. He only had time to scoff before Adam was through.


    Adam burst through his neck at the speed of a bullet. It looked like a pica flower blooming, for a second the blood was even in the shape of a radiating calyx. Other Devon''s last expression was his mouth agape, frozen mid retort, pink dripping from his mouth. He blinked once, twice, then fell over like a free standing door.


    Adam filled her head again. ¡°Oh no.¡±


    ¡°What are you getting?¡± She was crumpled and in pain, each breath thin and labored. ¡°I feel sick, I need¡­ I need a lot of things to be fixed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting you just went through something very traumatic. And the other Devon is dead¡­ he tried to claim he was Capacity.¡± Adam hovered at eye length, keeping a respectful distance, ¡°Devon there¡¯s no way that''s true.¡±


    Around them, the black of the world shifted to a dreary green.


    ¡±Who was the first acolyte of Serach.¡±


    ¡±Her name was Uvula, but that''s not import-¡° He wobbled like a ship in bad weather, ¡°How do you know that name?¡±


    ¡°She told me.¡±


    The body of Other Devon was inert. She had expected it to disappear, or for him to come back to life and declare he could never truly die. Instead it laid there, clearly dead.


    ¡±Oh, I¡¯m seeing that now. Jeavell must have read my surface thoughts and learned a few names. Did he actually tell you what any of these things mean, I think not.¡±


    ¡°Well no¡­ he asked me to ask you. Like what the red laps of shibboleth were.¡±


    Adam tried to account for the way the words shook him by pivoting to the left, taking a long swing of the air and passing by Devon¡¯s head like a low flying mechanical skimming the sea. ¡°Clearly he doesn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Well I would like to.¡± She said, getting to her feet as the pain receded. ¡°I can¡¯t access that info in the way you can.¡±


    ¡±Or she can.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Speaking of, Jeavell was nowhere to be felt. His rhythm either faint enough to be undetectable or as absent as it truly felt. And yet the world around them was brightening again, some hand was pressing down and applying pressure.


    ¡±It would be easier if we merged,¡± he said, ¡°then you would know everything. It¡¯s just¡­ there is so much, and I¡¯d be loath to share it without proper context.¡±


    ¡°Let''s start small, answer one question and I¡¯ll drop it for now.¡±


    ¡±Understood.¡± Neither a yes or a no. Would just have to work with that.


    She took some time getting the question right in her mind beforehand. If Adam was eavesdropping mentally, he would at least appreciate the care she was taking.


    ¡°So, one of the things he mentioned was about how you and Capacity split up,¡± the sky and ground was now a light gray, the pulsing had stopped. ¡°And I realized that I don¡¯t actually know-¡°


    ¡±I killed her.¡±


    ¡°WOAH!¡± Devon braced to a halt like she had been hit by a cannon shot. ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    ¡±I¡¯m telling you this because you are worried that Capacity is out there still and that is not possible. I assume someone must have tossed her into the Shifting Waters, and that''s how you received her body.¡±


    ¡°Why?? What happened?¡±


    ¡±Though perhaps that body you fought against was your corpse, but puppeteered by someone else or Jeavell. How it got here, I can barely fathom.¡±


    ¡°Why did you have to kill her?¡±


    ¡°Why do all empires end? She lost sight of our mission, became something I could no longer see as human. I will reiterate, this would be far easier if you agreed to total cell integration.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Total cell masturbation.¡± She said, ¡°total cell palpation.¡±


    ¡°Total cell integration.¡± Adam corrected. ¡°It would make everything automatic, we would be melded on a cellular level, instead of me popping in and out of your body¡¯s nervous system when it¡¯s convenient.¡±


    ¡±That sounds great.¡± She said with a wave, ¡°activate that.¡±


    She heard his all too familiar sigh. ¡°See, this is part of it.¡±


    Was it just her, in a mood made Machiavellian by the ever present terror (and the suggestion that there was so much more to experience) or was Adam starting to hate her?


    While his rhythm¡¯s pause made it clear he heard, he failed to assure her. She¡¯d even take a dour confirmation, it plainly just sucked.


    ¡°Go on then, explain why we¡¯re still separated.¡±


    ¡°Because if we merged, I won¡¯t be able to keep Capacity from you anymore.¡±


    Terror. Sheer, unbearable terror. Worse than fighting herself as Capacity.


    ¡°I¡­ really really don¡¯t wanna know anything about her. After all,¡± she tried to laugh, she just coughed, ¡°she¡¯s dead, right? Why would I even need to know anything.¡±


    ¡±Right¡±, Adam said, his tone vague, ¡°she¡¯s dead. Nothing about her matters.¡±


    He hated her. It was so clear now. He hated her completely.


    ¡±Devon, that''s an astoundingly illogical assumption to make. Consider that what you¡¯ve just been through is exceedingly traumatic and that you¡¯re still in shock-¡°


    ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    All the adrenaline made her run. It was a random direction, just hoofing and panting her way to oblivion. She wanted to break her body so her brain couldn¡¯t do any thinking.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t run. That fight took a lot out of you, and It won¡¯t be long till Jeavell shows.¡±


    Devon snorted, annoyed but not at all surprised. ¡°Let her try, and succeed, and kiss me as I¡¯m dying. Then, since you¡¯re such a special remark Adam, you can become his, and then Jeavell will always have a reminder of me.


    Devon stopped running.


    The words had come from a Reflection beneath them, keeping pace and acting as a sort of shadow. The voice was identical to hers, but her face was all wrong. The eyes were so big there was no room for any other features, the mouth more a suggestion that protruded from the chin, and the body


    The body was carnivorous.


    She felt sick. Her breath caught in her throat.


    Something heavy hit her from behind. She collided with that face. The massive pupils grew till the eyes were two black pits. Spiderweb cracks soared in her blood. Her nose shattered on impact. Beneath her the reflection expanded and seemed to separate separate. Something new was wrong with her vision. Adam was talking but Jeavell was louder.


    ¡°You¡¯ve really made tonight fun so far, don¡¯t think I don¡¯t appreciate that.¡±


    Coarse green hands that flickered at the edges hoisted her up and threw her into the sky. The curtains came down and came close and began to whirl wildly, increasing and increasing in speed till it felt like she was in the middle of a giant contracting throat. It was even singing!


    No wait, that sound was from her own ears.


    She was losing a lot of blood.


    ¡°I have you.¡±


    With a twitch of the eye her body was flooded with endorphins, pain temporarily masqueraded by a mania of focus. She fought back against the curtains even as they twisted and cajoled. Her hand was stuck. No problem, just grunt and pull. She had the forearm strength.


    More pain than she had ever felt.


    Her hand up to her wrist was degloved, the curtain retreating with its pound of flesh. Inappropriate name, degloving, cause now it looked like she was wearing a glove. A wet sticky pink glove. Boy she was glad Adam was here. She had never felt calmer.


    ¡±Devon, warning.¡±


    Devon¡¯s body seized up just enough to take the blow. Jeavell had their motorcycle, their motorcycle was part of their body, their motorcycle was named The Morrison. They swung the mess of corrugated metal into Devon and she went goodbye like the sun, straight into the open mouth of a grinning Devon. The room expanded impossibly, so that Devon never hit the other side of the wall, endlessly falling into her own reflection. It wasn¡¯t the wall now it was the floor.


    Shit. Rubbing an ear unnaturally wet, she yelled out to Adam. The floor below her mimicked her, a black hole where features should be, her body below tiny and foreshortened.


    ¡°Fly now, yes.¡±


    Adam hovered, slowing their descent. She could get closer at her own pace now. She gripped onto him with her good hand. The other was already regrowing skin. Though at the expense of the natural anesthetic Adam was pumping in. She looked for Jeavell but she couldn¡¯t see her in the maze of fractured faces. Some taunted her search, taking on features more evocative of Jeavell than her.


    ¡°Shit, we lost her.¡±


    ¡±lost her¡±


    She looked up at two Adams, her vision focusing until they became one. ¡°I don¡¯t see you helping me here.¡± This fight was just an annoyance, the sugar running through her veins told her that.


    He shook and lost some altitude, on instinct she grasped him with the other hand. No good. Heart still exposed flesh touching his sleek surface was sharp and sticky. She kept a firm grip cause she knew by the way her skin had begun to stick that trying to let go would only hurt worse.


    ¡±It¡¯s hard to talk when I¡¯m keeping you alive. This is all,¡± his voice stopped and started. ¡°Left side watch out.¡±


    Jeavell knocked her out of Adam with a swing to the gut. The ground rose up to meet her.


    She hit hard and spit out blood. The reflections beneath rushed to her like fish at feeding time. Everything hurt now, she was free of that drug induced haze Adam had put her in. Lucidity wasn¡¯t worth it.


    ¡±Adam!¡± She yelled, even though he had come right back into her hand (and right in her brain) ¡°What''s going on? Why does everything feel bad?¡±


    Jeavell was in the distance, a black silhouette glitching with glee. He took wild jumps and crossed hundreds of feet with each step.


    ¡°Your hand takes priority, I am doing everything I can to stop you from bleeding out by growing you new skin. Three different internal organs have burst, do you understand that it would be bad to let that remain unchecked?¡± He said, the annoyance in his voice clear, ¡°You are a machine and you are falling apart.¡±


    It felt like he had been saying that for years. Without any of his help she dodged The Morrison as Jeavell landed. With a snarl went for another hit to the gut with the butt of the Remark.


    Devon bit down hard with her teeth on a rubbery bit, and signaled Adam to fly the fuck the other way. Jeavell fell to the ground and ate a foot of concrete in a satisfying manner before ripping his Remark from her lockjaw. Seeming inspired. Jeavell used his Morrison arm to rip off great swaths of the concrete, all filled with a tableau of Devon, some of whom were now copulating. ¡°Oooh baby, if this is the wedding, I can¡¯t wait for the honeymoon.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve accumulated too much damage. It¡¯s a tax you haven¡¯t paid.¡± Adam was professional even now, making minute adjustments to her appendages as he calmly stated why she felt so close to dying.


    ¡°Then what the fuck do I do??¡± She yelled, dodging blow after blow of laughing reflections. A chunk of concrete left a nasty bruise. The next chunk was her face, screaming, as a pair of eyes looked at her from within the gaping void. She kicked this one and muttered a curse cut short by a third chunk far too big to deflect. It was dodged. Barely. The bruise was hurting and Adam couldn¡¯t numb it. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much longer I can last.¡±


    ¡±I go all night, baby!¡± Jeavell wailed, seeming only dimly aware of their convo. ¡°Most can¡¯t keep up for a second, I give you props for lasting a minute!¡±


    Jeavell crested the horizon, his a private gravity. Devon got in a good punch. Jeavel¡¯s face shattered like fine art, she held up a reflection right in front of his face. What a card!


    Jeavell¡¯s face reformed into a new blend of shapes and colors, each consecutive hit blocked by their weapon, the Melded motorcycle like Remark coming out of their arms. Devon couldn¡¯t see herself in Jeavell¡¯s features, even as the rest of the room was reflected through them.


    JeavelI put his arms in a cross and slammed down. Chunks of the glass floor rose as neat cubes and sailed off to unknown shores.


    Devon muscled up to one of the smaller cube as Jeavell¡¯s taunts stayed behind on the ground. Collapsing in relief, a bloodsoaked hanky bidding her opponent adieu.


    She was going upward now. She wasn¡¯t alone.


    Temples of Devon rose up around her. Deities explicit in their falseness, caricatures of her so carefully rendered, every detail so lovingly warped.


    There was a version of her who could do nothing but cry.


    A version of her in the process of a vivisection.


    A version of her who had lost her head.


    A version of her who had no eyes. She passed them by like steps as the cube rose up higher and higher. Each one she passed vanished from her brain once out of sight, so she breathed easier with every caricature that lost the fight to elevation.


    That good feeling of not dying came back. Adam must have finally been able to focus some of his energy into a space in her body that had been long unused, she felt something make itself known. Her father¡¯s eye, blinking at her. Her father¡¯s body, wielded by a body she didn¡¯t recognize. It wasn¡¯t fair.


    It didn¡¯t have to be.


    ¡±Adam. Did you replace my Remark?¡±


    ¡±What?¡±


    Jeavell was flying towards them. The abstract painting outer shell now like a coat of armor they wore, or a very cool cape. His Remark, the Morrison, held triumphant above her, boiling over with smoke and diesel.


    ¡°Did you replace my Remark?¡± She had to yell because beating her knuckles bloody would hurt too much. Jeavell swoop down like a zeppelin and skimmed the sides of the cube with her hand


    ¡±No, no! That¡¯s not what I do. You have me in addition to¡­¡± His voice trailed off. She could literally hear the gears turning. ¡°That could work.¡±


    Feet apart, Jeavell suddenly dropped hard and heavy to the floor. As a consequence, Devon went up, the gravity playing hard to get and holding her hostage a few foot lengths above. Jeavell jumped, the Morrison sparking wildly as the Constant¡¯s tongue spiraled out.


    And Devon summoned her Remark.


    You remember, the one that was a dead fish.


    ¡°Hah, what sort of pathetic decoy is that do you really think woah wait what is that?¡± Jeavell¡¯s Morrison arm curdled. The reflections all disappeared at once.


    A very confused looking Constant stared at Devon, staring at the massive fish Devon held as a weapon and the strange music it emanated. ¡°What is that? What are you doing with it?¡±


    Devon panted heavily and hoisted her true Remark. It was heavier than before, but she was far stronger. It was now like a greatsword made out of singtrout skin. Bulbous, grimy, and alive. She savored the way it pulsed, the little melody that perfectly complimented her grin, the way its crest was a blade. ¡°It¡¯s my Remark.¡± An eye on the larger end looked up to her with admiration, the pupil the same hazy green as her fathers. ¡°It¡¯s grown.¡±


    Jeavell stared for a bit, it felt good to throw him off guard. He looked around, realizing suddenly that the effects of his Remark were fading. ¡°How in the grand-¡°


    A two pronged attack courtesy of Devon and Adam. She swung first with the trout, jostling Jeavell off balance and straight into Adam, who had positioned himself like a tack. Adam pierced her chest. He yelled and bled oil.


    ¡°Why the fuck did you wait till now to do this you dumb-¡° Another hit, the wet smack comical but just as satisfying. Adam scooted through the hole he made. Impossibly Jeavell got up.


    ¡±Okay, you¡¯ve had your fun.¡± Jeavell¡¯s voice went dark again, his body joining in on the glitchiness that his face was already privy to. Devon went for another swing. He caught her fish and squeezed till the eyes bulged. ¡°But I went last for a reason.¡±


    Jeavell towered above her, her breath came out like steam in the look of grey pretzels. ¡°I wanted them both dead, you cooperated, and now I¡¯m head over heels for you. I love you.¡±


    Adam didn¡¯t seem with her, not in body or nearby. Someone heavy was coming but it didn¡¯t seem important.


    The Morrison was bigger than it had ever been, its agenda to devastate had never been more clear. ¡°And baby, hate to say it, but I always kill the ones I love.¡±


    There was a familiar snap.

 Chapter 43: Easier to imagine an end to the world than an end to violence.

    May you live in interesting times.


    Whoever coined that term should have been taken out back and shot.


    Clive had been eaten, Karol dissolved by a dimension, and Jeavell was currently being beaten to death by Hailien again and again and again.


    In interesting times such as these, 30 relied on the screens more than ever. Despite being the source of his anxiety he looked to them for sights that could cure it.


    There in the food court a few refugees were messing with a placebo, stacking up plates as he went through his route. Harmless fun, but there was no joy to it. They were counting time, nothing more.


    In a balcony near the top of the spine, former reserve members were daring each other to balance on the railing.


    He turned his head right when the current ressy started to wobble. Onto the library.


    No one seemed that interested in the books themselves, but they had cleared out space to make a dueling arena. Non lethal of course. No wait, lethal. Very lethal.


    This didn¡¯t help him.


    Every screen showed ennui that would soon lead to abandonment or the aftermath of Devon¡¯s rampage through the Helot. He gripped his compass tightly and prayed that the Grand was real. What he was doing was good, perhaps they would see that.


    ¡±What''s going on friend, you seem down?¡± Someone said. The voice was light and feminine, 30 didn¡¯t recognize it but sensed no malice. It was nice to have company.


    Still, he kept one hand on the pistol in the cubbyhole below the screens. It was a pre Deluge relic, he had found it in a dead man''s grip when he arrived. Conventional weaponry might have been obsolete, but bullets still hurt.


    ¡°Everything I work for is being cannibalized in front of me. It was a mistake to think they¡¯d all kill each other¡± He waved at the screen. ¡°Morgan is lucid again, so people are heading back to Gutworth. Stability has returned, praise the Grand.¡± He spit on the ground and rubbed his foot in the saliva.


    ¡±That''s too bad. Sounds like you were really banking on imminent collapse. What went south you think?¡± There was the hatred. He pictured the speaker sporting a cruel smirk. With a quickness that surprised even him, 30 drew his pistol at the shadowed speaker.


    ¡°Not what, who. Montanna didn¡¯t stick with his side of the deal. He flaked.¡± He turned off the safety and cocked it.


    A dry chuckle. ¡°True, but have you asked him for his side of the story?¡± The voice lowered an octave as Montanna stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing that damn purple bandanna.


    30 sighed and rubbed his temple, but kept his pistol locked on the little shit. ¡°Alright. what happened?¡±


    ¡±Consider this. The job never went wrong. I did my part then I left.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Shame on you if you thought Gutworth would be unstable forever. The place has a way of disappointing you. It can¡¯t even collapse right.¡±


    30 took this in. He lowered the pistol slowly, giving Montanna the chance to change his mind with a sudden movement. ¡±So¡­ you¡¯re leaving town then?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡± Montanna took a step forward. 30 bought the gun back up.


    ¡±Easy there Charles Bronson, there¡¯s a reason they don¡¯t make those movies anymore,¡± another riddle 30 couldn¡¯t decipher, ¡°you want to come with me?¡±


    He did, and had trouble framing it in a way that didn¡¯t make him seem needy. ¡°¡­ This place is clearly falling apart,¡± 30 settled on.


    ¡±Clearly.¡± Like he belonged there, Montanna walked towards the screens. He whistled. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen it in person, pretty nice.¡±


    ¡±Yeah, it¡¯s quite-¡°


    ¡±Can we get a cam of Her?¡±


    His stomach turned.


    30 fumbled the gun and Montanna picked it up like a tossed aside pamphlet.


    ¡±It¡¯s not bad to ask, is it? Some sort of faux-pas?¡± He checked the cartridge to see if it was loaded. 30 didn¡¯t actually know. Montanna seemed pleased with what he saw, if he could see with that bandanna. ¡±I tend to make those often.¡±


    ¡±What do you want with her?¡± She was a monster of the highest order. It made his skin crawl to know she was right above them, but thankfully dominion here gave him control. As long as his Remark was out she couldn¡¯t be freed.


    ¡±I just want to see her.¡±


    ¡±Why?¡± Though he understood. She was the brain of the Helot, a monster from a forgotten age. He had spent hours staring at her through the screens, wondering how someone who looked so small and withered could at any moment unleash such destruction.


    With reluctance he moved his mitt-like hands over to the side of the keyboard, and pressed a small blue button.


    ¡±Which screen do you want her on?¡±


    ¡±All of them.¡±


    ¡±Well, you¡¯ll have to settle for six.¡± The six middle screens flared into the head of the Helot as seen from the ceiling. It was a forest of chains, all taut and still. They were connected to a small figure in the far opposite wall. The chains might as well have been her body, all that could be seen of her was long brown hair thick with centuries of growth.


    Montanna whistled. ¡°Speaking of pretty.¡± He got uncomfortably close, yet had the frustrating wherewithal to keep the gun pointed at 30. ¡°They say she was a prodigy, and this whole structure is her Remark. Ain¡¯t that something?¡±


    30 had heard differently, that this place was made to be a prison, but somehow she had taken it over. Who knows how long she had been in slumber, but it was the only thing keeping this place habitable.


    ¡±You know a guy like me could use something like this.¡± He lowered the pistol till it was pressed into 30¡¯s backside. ¡°Could kill two float rats with one stone by waking her up. You¡¯d be dead, and Gutworth would be doomed. I bet she¡¯s gonna head straight to it.¡±


    Fuck. Somehow he already guessed the correlation between his Remark and her slumber. He had only been to her chambers once. When he had first fled to the Helot, it had taken many hours of hard work to scrape off the bodies of placebos that coated the outer shell like a skin, and more skilled Remark users than him dealt with the hostiles inside.


    The last thing the final aberration said before it choked on its own blue blood was to not let her wake. Well, like a fool he had gone up to the head, and he saw her.


    He felt the pure hate that radiated off her. Every second one was in there gave her strength. He ran out, locked the door, used his Remark to make it unreachable, and then cried for three days straight.


    If there was nothing he could do, then it was a relief he wouldn¡¯t be alive to see it.


    ¡°Alright then. I¡¯m fucked either way. Just kill me.¡±


    ¡°Oh this?¡± Montanna looked at the gun with suspicion, then he burst into a wide smirk. ¡°It¡¯s not even loaded.¡±


    30 sputtered. He came this close to running up to Montanna and strangling the pest, but then Montanna laughed.


    It was infectious, it rattled the room. 30 joined in. He had to admit it was funny. The two were staring at each other wild eyed, braying not in joy but in a sort of shared insanity. The world was cruel and they were crueler, and despite it all they¡¯d go their separate ways and survive another day.


    When Montanna raised the gun and pulled the trigger. It should have just been part of the gag.


    And it was. Only the punchline was different.


    *bang*


    .


    .


    .


    In front of Hailien was pure displeasure.


    *snap*


    She butchered him, leather jacket to secret bone. That didn¡¯t stop his hand with the bizarre machine attached to it. Hailien sliced it off for good measure.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    *snap*


    She gutted him. Not unlike the fish she saw before her as the girl who wielded it stared up at her with admiration.


    ¡±Holy crawl shit Hailien, I thought I was dead.¡±


    The girl behind her was missing the skin on her left arm. She waves with the good one.


    *snap*


    She crushed his skull. The creature moaned in tones that weren¡¯t human. He was the ferry captain who brought her straight to misery, he was the Good Samaritan, he was an abuser of absolute power, he was the center and the center would soon be missing.


    *snap*


    She bent his neck, driving her Remark through his abdomen till the organs hung loose.


    ¡±We almost died Hailien!! Well like, I did. Adam¡¯s fine you know, cause he¡¯s¡­but wow!¡± Her voice was harsh and striking and it made Hailien wince. ¡°But hey, another Constant down. Only two to go. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s such a rush to change things, to get rid of people who deserve to die, you know?¡±


    *snap*


    ¡±¡­ you know?¡±


    She sliced his body into smaller and smaller pieces, watching as the Constant¡¯s strange Remark tried desperately to knit himself back together.


    *snap*


    A severance of the limbs. Leaving a torso. Screaming.


    ¡°Hey Hailien that''s enough alright?¡±


    *snap*


    ¡±Hey Hailien¡­¡±


    *snap*


    ¡°Hey¡­¡±


    *snap* *snap* *snap* *snap*


    ¡±Hailien STOP IT!¡± A blow from behind. A nuisance she must destroy. The girl with the skinless arm. Something about her rage was familiar. She was the Center, she was the-


    And then the girl hugged her. Tears streamed down her face. And she saw through the rage.


    ¡±¡­ Devon.¡±


    .


    .


    .


    It was a relief to see life return to those eyes. Hailien looked around in disbelief, as if taking everything in for the first time. Devon didn¡¯t understand the outburst, but she was certainly happy for it.


    She firmly removed herself from the hug, then gave Devon a gentle blow to the shoulder. ¡°How many have you killed, are the others dead?¡±


    Hailien was covered in blood and viscera. So was she. ¡°Um, I encountered three. They¡¯re all dead, if there¡¯s any more I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll-¡°


    ¡±Good.¡± She turned lazily to where Jeavell laid in a heap. Moaning softly, his eyes rolling wildly as her body contorted into the painful shape of submission.


    ¡°Ah¡­ let me finish this one.¡±


    ¡±Wait, I needed to ask him-¡° Jeavell¡¯s canonical death was a steel Remark to the head. His perfectly coiffed hair and clean white teeth ruined forever.


    It would be wrong to say Devon regretted her death. But there were certain loose ends that would never be tied up. Still, she felt like she could breathe easier. Hailien turned from the body and walked past Devon without a word. ¡°H-hey, what happened back there?¡± She scampered on the concrete, running to keep up with Hailien¡¯s fast and steady stride.


    The curtain disappeared like ripples in still water. The room they were in was actually quite small. It was a lounge of some sort, in a tacky baby blue. Ratty sofa, buzzing soda machine, and a table with a glowing screen. Jeavell¡¯s remark¡­ tooth¡­ whatever must have distorted the space to the point where none of it had been recognizable.


    Hailien ripped the exit off the hinges and walked into a hallway. Devon kept close behind.


    ¡±There were others with you. Are they safe?¡±


    Devon asked the question on Adam¡¯s behalf.


    ¡±All dead.¡± She said bluntly. This hallway felt like being on the inside of a pipe, it curved at the edges and there were stains on the wallpaper so routinely it read like a pattern.


    Devon found it hard to believe, no, no, she didn¡¯t want to believe it. Felt bad to believe shit that sucked if she hadn¡¯t seen it herself. The Constant had been busy with her, who else could have killed them? ¡°Who attacked you?¡±


    Hailien shook her head, her back muscles writhing like thousands of squish snakes. ¡°A cult that doesn¡¯t believe there should be a consensus for reality. There are far bigger dangers than the bottom feeders in Gutworth.¡± Devon waited for her to elaborate.


    She never did.


    The hallway was surprisingly well populated. Some of the bottom feeders Hailien had referred to. Disgraced Lemure members, trying to hide the pulsing number on their neck. Opportunists competing to hook them up with their vice of choice. A bleary eyed drug dealer, clearly in the midst of sampling his own product, peeled himself from the wall and stumbled forward.


    ¡±Hey man, you wanna feel like you¡¯re on yourself?¡±


    Hailien¡¯s hand engulfed the man and shoved him into the wall, leaving an impressive dent as the man slumped down, dead or close to it.


    ¡±So, are we going?¡±


    Hailien¡¯s head turned first, then the rest of her followed in a viscerally discomforting way. Her eyes bulged and teeth clenched, and Devon had the very real fear that she could be hurt.


    ¡°Devon¡­¡± Adam felt it too.


    Hailien turned back, making her point clear. ¡°We need to kill him.¡± though they were not words meant for Devon, but private words. A mantra she was trying to take to heart. ¡°The center, the center is missing.¡±


    ¡±Hey who¡¯s-¡°, Another druggie, motivations vague outside of a need for contact, shoved their fingers into Devon''s face. There were too many fingers, and Devon held back expletives as she shoved the stranger into a pile of chairs. ¡°Who¡¯s he, Hailien? Who are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°A man I have killed five times now,¡± Hailien said, ¡°somehow I¡¯m seeing him everywhere.¡±


    ¡±I don¡¯t feel comfortable with her being like this right now Devon, we should try and disengage.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She said in a whisper, ¡°no? She¡¯s¡­ I owe her a lot, and she saw a bunch of our other friends die,¡± maybe. Devon didn¡¯t fully trust Hailien¡¯s read on the situation, surely someone was still alive. ¡°We can¡¯t just abandon her, she¡¯s suffering from something, maybe another duelist¡¯s Remark, I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Hailien stood rigid straight and shoved her weapon into the side of the wall. It gave, and she dragged it screaming through the metal as she walked. Devon thanked the concept of existence that this was not a load bearing tube. The lights above flickered, but that was the extent of the damage.


    ¡°She could kill us at any moment, she¡¯s not connected with reality.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell me that,¡± Devon muttered. She killed three, count em, three Constants, and here Hailien was acting like this was meaningless. If anything could have snapped her out of this weird vengeance fugue, it was that.


    They came to the door at the end of the hall. It bulged out to greet them.


    A body in consummate regalia of red and black hung from a wall right to the left.


    A door guard, Devon thought with zero humor. He didn¡¯t deny passage as Hailien ripped the door off the hinges, breathing heavily all the while.


    ¡±Do you know everyone in the world wants to kill you? Their eyes are gripped in knives. Do you know what a knife does? A knife lacerates.¡± A man checking himself in a pocket mirror was too enthralled in the task to notice the bulky woman who had replaced the door, and bumped into her.


    ¡±Oh, my apologies ladies,¡± the man''s face was smeared with grease paint. It made his cheeks pale white and his eyes dark pits. ¡°You¡¯re probably surprised by my appearance. Don¡¯t be alarmed! I am what¡¯s known as a Concept Duelist. The face paint I¡¯m wearing, and yes, it¡¯s only face paint, my actual skin tone is not at all this ghoulish. Anyway, the face paint is part of my concept, you see, I¡¯ve modeled myself after that caretaker of the dead, the Casket Man! Creepy fellow, brr, I¡¯d never want to meet him. So, you¡¯re probably wondering why a cool guy like me modeled myself after one of our worlds most disturbing legends. Well, multiple reasons. For one, I¡¯m acknowledging the crucial role death plays in duels. More than that, I¡¯m reminding us all of our responsibility to death. Furthermore, I¡¯m-¡°


    Hailien rushed the man and held him by the cheeks.


    ¡±Aughh! What are you doing??¡± The man yelled, black tears smearing down his face.


    ¡°Look at his eyes Devon, do you see it?¡±


    ¡°What do you want from me???¡±


    ¡±Do you see the hate that¡¯s been implanted there? Ideology as clear as the wheel turns, Devon. We are stuck in a system of the killers and the killed, nothing can exist outside, and nothing does. It imprints on us like fingerprints, you can see it in their eyes. Where is the Grand Council? Their chairs are empty, who turns the wheel in their absence Devon?¡± She pulled so hard red surged into the poor man¡¯s pupil, ¡°who turns the wheel?¡±


    ¡±Hailien!¡± Devon summoned her true Remark. There was an immediate repulsion of those surrounding her. The druggies on the floor squirmed, the pushers turned away, even the corpse on the wall seemed to slump down further.


    Hailien snorted, and dropped the man, who took off without a word. ¡°Good answer,¡± she said. She grabbed it before Devon could even think of desummoning it.


    The eye on the blade looked up at Hailien as she studied it. ¡°Fantastic tangibility, powerful aura, its effect is working right now I feel-¡° Her face was surprised, like a sudden catch of breath. ¡°Pure and utter revulsion.¡±


    ¡±Um, apologies?¡± This was all new to her, she didn¡¯t quite understand Remark etiquette. ¡°I¡¯ll get rid of it.¡±


    ¡°No, it''s good. It¡¯s good.¡± She gave the Remark back and held Devon by the shoulders. It was a motherly gesture Devon never had the pleasure of receiving. ¡°It¡¯s far less intense than what I was feeling before. It helped me Devon! Devon, you helped me.¡±


    ¡±Uhuh, that¡¯s great!¡± Devon wasn¡¯t as relieved as Hailien wanted her to be. There was still that manic intensity, that single mindedness masquerading as calm. Her grip was motherly, but still a vice grip. ¡°Could you talk to me like a person?¡±


    ¡±Certainly. I was zealous there, none of us can afford to be that zealous again.¡± Hailien said, shifting her metal jaw, ¡°We need to avenge our comrades. They were butchered, all five of them.¡±


    ¡±Geez.¡± She didn¡¯t know them well, but they did not deserve to have their deaths summarized in a sentence. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± It was strange though, Hailien didn¡¯t seem saddened by their deaths, it seemed to energize her in a way that was quite frankly disturbing to see.


    ¡±Where did the killer go?¡± Adam asked reluctantly, and Devon relayed his message.


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not sure.¡± A shaggy haired man wearing a purple bandanna pushed past them in a slight hurry. ¡°He was a massive man who¡¯s grin could cut stone. I lost track of him.¡±


    ¡±Crawl shit, yeah, he could be anywhere.¡± Devon said, having the oddest sensation that something was amiss.


    ¡±Devon, the man from the hotel just passed us by.¡±


    ¡°What? What do you-¡°


    Hailien readied her Remark. ¡°Montanna!¡± She yelled. Devon¡¯s heart dropped like a broken crawler.


    Hailien clamored down the tube after the poor idiot as he doubled his stride. Devon followed. Grand help them all.

 Update on release schedule and open call for Beta Readers!

    Hello everyone, it¡¯s me, Maw_Worm, the apparent writer of Remark Of Ruin.


    First off, wanted to announce that I now have a full time job! While this is generally a really good thing, it also means I¡¯ve had less time to polish this latest chapter, which is currently set to be the penultimate chapter of Book 1 (that may change, but more than anything I want to get this book wrapped up sooner rather than later.)


    So, expect the next chapter This Wednesday or Thursday and the final chapter Saturday or Sunday.


    The good news is that, now that I have a job that pays well, I don¡¯t have to worry about or treat Remark as a source of income. I¡¯m not gonna be doing a paywall or making any chapters Patreon exclusive, or even running a Patreon anymore. Any side chapters will be freely available to read on my discord. That way this can continue being primarily a creative pursuit first and foremost and not something I¡¯m trying to make money off of.


    Which brings us to Book 2.


    So I won¡¯t lie, I¡¯ve been second guessing myself a lot lately about Book 1 and whether I jumped the gun in releasing it. I thought I had a good backlog, but I didn¡¯t realize how much of it would end up having to be heavily edited the week of release (some of it was early draft shit I had never taken out, other stuff just kind of sucked to read and didn¡¯t make sense tonally) It is strange to go from writing something that only you and a small group of friends see to something that is public and readable by anyone. I¡¯m still adjusting to it. Weirdly in some ways it¡¯s far more isolating.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The amount of people on RR I bump into who know and actively read Remark constantly surprises me. But like, as someone who has only written short stories for a niche horror website and weird fiction for herself before this, having a serial people experience chapter by chapter has added a whole new dimension to writing.


    That dimension is a constant fear I will lose sight of why I¡¯m writing this and what makes it interesting.


    Which is why I don¡¯t want to rush Book 2. Too much of Book 1 became something I wrote by the seat of my pants, and trying to juggle that while also setting up shoutout swaps and getting way too fucking obsessed with metrics was not great. I want to make sure I have beta readers that will catch the typos and errors the first few chapters of Book 1 were plagued with, as well as having more feedback from people who know these characters and the vibe. I already have a full time editor and proofreader who rules and is awesome, but they¡¯re not always available and I don¡¯t want to overburden them.


    Basically, I want to write the entirety of Book 2 in this small bubble, fully edited and as close to the finished product as I can get, before I start posting it. To do that, I¡¯m gonna need eyes.


    I wanna hear from you (yes, you) specifically. What do you think of this world? Where do you think this is going? What do you like about it? What keeps you reading? What do you hate? Why do you think Tremble is like that? The people who have reached out or written reviews have all been wonderful and it means a lot that you all find something worthwhile here.


    I view Remark as a beacon. This book is (at times, shamelessly) filled with my influences and everything I think is cool and/or horrifying. If you¡¯re enjoying it so far, we probably have a lot in common. And if you¡¯re writing something similar you want me to see, by all means please share it! I¡¯ll probably fucking love it!


    So, if you want to beta read, or if you just wanna say hi and talk about why 2003 is objectively the best broadcast year for Adult Swim, you can friend me on discord under the name mawiscool (all lowercase, no spaces) hope to hear from you!

 Chapter 44: Revolution Begins with Changes in the Individual

    For Montanna Novak, there was no greater pleasure than to hear his name yelled. They would never know his name was a spelling error away from a State, or the on the nose meaning of Novak. Everything about him was a private joke.


    Of course when Hailien shouted it with a fury reserved for few, it was clear she didn¡¯t get it. She came at him with that slab of a Remark. He saw his reflection in it right as he turned away.


    WHAM! It came down with such force the whole of the Helot seemed to creak. Chuckle let out, he took stairs by the half dozen. This body was more athletic than his old one, it came in handy for moments where he didn¡¯t want to die. The overgeared brute yelled something unintelligible, he thought he was out of her range.


    But then on the next landing came her Remark. It sailed past him, clipping his back.


    Fuck.


    He landed head first on the next flight up. Fingers slipped on the frictionless fared step. Heavy breathing on his neck. She was right behind him, wasn¡¯t he?


    He didn¡¯t dare move. Another pair of footsteps scampered up and stopped right next to him.


    ¡±What are you doing? Kill him or don¡¯t, you¡¯re just¡­ staring at him.¡±


    Devon¡¯s shrill voice, like a Veronica Taylor character with a slightly richer tenor.


    ¡±We need information. He works directly with the Shadow of the Arch. Her head is blazing purple, and look at his bandanna. Same color. Same exact color.¡±


    Montanna winced. Fuck, maybe he should have taken off the bandanna. He got cocky, just like they said. He was glad they couldn¡¯t see him smile. He flexed and unflexed his hands, making as if he was only now regaining consciousness.


    A harsh snap, right in his ears. A sword through his throat.


    A second snap followed and he was alive again. Intense terror, a panoramic vision of your death. The infinite quiet you glimpse just for a second. Everything they said about her Remark was correct and then some. While the gaping wound in his mouth had disappeared, the cut on his back remained. It stung like hell.


    ¡±Ah, now he¡¯ll cooperate.¡±


    ¡±Does it have a name?¡± He tossed himself frontward but leaned back at her grimace. Hailien¡¯s face was a well cooked turkey bisected, the bottom half replaced with a rusty bear trap of a jaw. He wondered what it must be like to have tetanus of the tongue.


    ¡±My Remark?¡± Hailien asked. Devon poked her head out behind her, a puppy hiding behind the den mother.


    ¡±Who else?¡± Montanna said. He didn¡¯t care about Devon, however she got Adam¡¯s Remark wasn¡¯t his concern. ¡°Every Remark should have a name, it breeds familiarity. And it seems a shame to be murdered by a stranger.¡±


    ¡°Time Consumer¡± she said immediately. ¡°Need another demonstration?¡± She held it up high till it pierced the ceiling.


    ¡±Nah, not at all.¡± He licked his lips, thanked his luck. She had teed him off perfectly. His hand whisked quickly to his back as he said, ¡°like the Coheed and Cambria song?¡±


    ¡±What?¡±


    And right there. That moment. As Hailien took a second to try to puzzle out what a Coheed and Cambria was, he summoned Outer Context Problem. She yelled out in shock as the effect set in. It was a strange Remark, its own form he could barely describe. Every element of the periodic table at once, on a stick.


    He waved it wildly (as he always did) and watched them sputter and struggle to stand. Their whole conceptual framework of reality had been pulled out from under them, the Remarks in their hand foreign to them, completely alien to anything they knew.


    Just as it was for him.


    He kept running, taking the glee to go instead of savoring it. There would be plenty of time for that once Gutworth was a footprint, and then he could go back to home base and talk to the others, see how their local accelerationist projects ended up.


    Maybe they¡¯d finally stop making fun of him.


    ¡­


    The door to the Helot¡¯s brain squealed open. Montanna took out a lantern (here they were called spark vases, but that''s just ¡°calling a rabbit a smeerp¡± shit and Montanna was better than that) and shined it up until he could see the limits of the massive chamber.


    And there she was.


    Wrapped up like a Christmas present on top of the concave ceiling, she was all the more beautiful up close. The way her chains dug into her eyes, leaving no trace outside of the twin smears of blood still brightly flowing down her dark bronzed features, was kismet. The Shadow would be happy to hear this, all they had to do was paint the chains purple and they could easily rope her into the existing scripture.


    A sharp pain in his back. His arm cracked and not in a healthy way. It was time to entertain.


    He placed his hand crank lantern down and stared straight in front of him. He coughed a bit, and wiped something unidentifiable off his shirt. It left a red stain. ¡°We¡¯re all dying, you know.¡±


    His voice seemed custom made for this room''s cavernous acoustics. The brain of the Helot was behind him, but he stared forward, addressing a crowd he could not see.


    ¡°Not even in a metaphorical sense, I mean that this world has a ticker thats always counting down. But you know that. Everyone who wears these knows that,¡± he pointed at his bandanna. ¡°That''s why they locked you up here? Cause they wanted things to end, they were scared of eternity.¡±


    An impossible breeze shook the chains.


    ¡°The dogma of religion is our lifeblood. Religion is action, action is proof that you exist.¡± He took off his shirt. There was a bright bloodstain right where Hailien had nicked him. ¡°Action is a requirement for change. Change is what creates dogma, which in itself is usually a reaction to change.¡±


    Another cough. He slapped himself hard. After a look of confusion, he slapped himself again. Then the speech continued as if there had been no interruption.


    ¡°So our dogmas keep things the same, even as things change. You could call it a stagnancy. But stagnancy is the end goal here, we cannot live in interesting times if there¡¯s ever the risk of things truly changing.¡± He weighed the options with his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure which comes first, the need for stagnancy or the need for dogma, maybe it doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s awfully cold in here.¡±


    He looked up to the woman. For a minute he stared at her and did nothing. Then he pulled a crumbled note from his pocket and read aloud.


    ¡±Let me tell you about a girl made to stop the end of the world.¡±


    The lighting changed from a demure yellow to a pulsing red. It continued to get brighter as he recited text he didn¡¯t really understand.


    ¡±When Serach¡¯s Diving Bell screeched through the heavens and pierced God¡¯s sinew, there were two who held close, their bodies intertwined in prayer.¡±


    Devon awoke from a nightmare to find Adam back in her hand. She told him how he had been replaced by a monster. Hailien took her roughly by the shoulder of her bad arm and pulled her up. ¡°No time, no time for any of that.¡± She pointed Time Consumer at a climber cresting the nearest wall. ¡°We take that to the top, then kill him.¡±


    ¡°There was much rejoicing that night. For they had found heaven. And even though it had teeth and the color burned the eye, they knew it was good. For Papa Patriarch was on board, and Papa Patriarch had an open line to God. God told him they were safe. Their paradise just needed time to form. That was all.¡±


    A hijacking of a climber. Hailien surged roughly and tossed aside a layabout taking up space. She hit the top floor button hard enough to break it. With a hissing reluctance the climber¡¯s claws scraped upward. ¡°He¡¯s the cause of all this.¡± She said to Devon, ¡°He¡¯s the cause of all our misfortunes.¡± Devon was huddled in a corner, whispering to herself.


    ¡°The two intertwined in prayer never admitted it but they expected to die. They spent each night afterwards thanking the other. Besides themselves and marveling that eternity would now be theirs.¡±


    A massive pulse from the Helot¡¯s skull. The Climber shook and stone broke free. Alarms sounded and the tightness of the Climbers Bio-Mesh became a problem. ¡°We¡¯ll go out the top¡± Hailien said, making sure to snap once before she jangled the pustule at the tip. Devon was too busy looking at the open wound that was her right arm to reply. There was a trilling outside, worming its way inside. ¡°We need to leave, something powerful is waking up,¡± Adam said.


    ¡°The Diving Bell caved open and the amniotic fluid bled out and dispersed reality. Here was their paradise, Papa Patriarch proclaimed. And they all admitted it was good. But the two intertwined were more alone than ever. They both found shelter in the statue of Serach, the girl who would live forever. Things were nice until the Pocket curdled.¡±


    Strings by the dozen poured in through the broken button plate. Hailien had just loosened the opening up to stick an arm in when the sliding doors were pushed outward by claws of pure black. ¡°Hailien and Devon! It¡¯s Stumble and Tremble¡±, said the voice of someone dead. The strings came in like water on a leaky boat and the bulk of something very long and hungry destroyed what was left of the door. The climber died screaming.


    ¡°One day the sky turned from blue to red, The Visionary spoke to them and he said ¡°You are in Gehenna. As above so below, aren¡¯t you happy you escaped heaven?¡± But they didn¡¯t know how to respond. Papa Patriarch was replaced by a pretender and said pretender was killed and eaten. The Visionary stuck to our skin and we learned this was a gift. The aberrations came soon afterwards, and through trial and error both sides got better at killing. The Wyrms feasted and some people became gods for a time. The two intertwined separated, one of them died.¡±


    Beyond them the walls of the Helot were growing flesh. What were once passageways revealed themselves as blood vessels. Placebos flooded the changing interior and dissolved into a pink mass that covered everything. ¡°Good for them!¡± Tremble rasped, having no idea what was going on. Devon was overwhelmed by thick string that pulled and made her skin bleed. The laughing face of Stumble slithered on it as a pattern. Dozens of eyes locked onto Hailien and for the first time in so very long she felt scared. The feeling intensified with a punch to the throat. She hit the side of the climber and Tremble kicked the climber free and they were loose from the edges of what was now clearly skin and they were falling, falling.


    ¡°The other was swept up in sentiments of preservation. Their society had fallen into murder and this way they thought was ruin. But no, she knew the truth. You knew the truth, you understand the oxymorons. You get why it¡¯s funny. In the end it¡¯s all so fucking simple.¡±


    Hailien snapped right before they hit the water. Tremble looked at the space Hailien had just been and screamed. ¡°The fuck was that.¡± She looked at Devon and Adam, too busy dealing with the laughing string to explain. She poked her head out. Screams wafted from everywhere as the Helot cried pink, its body gaining color that was vibrant and unnamable. There was a clang from above, a snap as clear as lighting, and then a giant wave washed them all away.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°To kill is to live. To sustain is to deprive. Stagnancy is change, and don¡¯t let anyone tell you otherwise.¡± The room around him was now clearly a skull. Vacant sockets appeared in the roof, the Helot¡¯s chained human body was covered by flesh. A massive tongue grew out of where Montanna had entered.


    ¡±And you understand what you must do now, right??¡± He shouted. His greasy hands held the instructions tightly. One final sentence, then she would be activated. Then Gutworth would be fucking crushed. Overkill, maybe, to use a giant flesh mech for one backwater, but he was just following orders, and had been for years, why stop now?


    ¡°There¡¯s a town close by filled with those who want to end the world. You must teach them the beauty in life through death, you will leave no one alive in the town of-¡°


    And then Montanna was crushed by bone matter. The Helot¡¯s physical reconstruction did not account for the man telling the story, and so she never heard the ending.


    Which was a shame, as she was rather enjoying it.


    ¡­


    The dead climber was on its side. A reasonable compromise to a life raft, the opening faced upward so it was like a canoe. The slight shape of Adam rose from it, silhouetted by the massive calf of the Helot, now animate. Her every step was a tidal wave, she screamed and brought down birds. The sea was a mess of retreating ships, corpses bobbing, and corpses soon to be. Thankfully, the initial wave had thrown them a good half a mile, and the Helot was walking away. To who or what they did not know.


    Devon stuck her head out. Immediately she received a face full of cold ocean spray. She spit it out along with a bit of blood.


    ¡°Bleh, bleck!¡± She wiped her face frantically, the way a float rat cleaned its fur, before having to stop due to the severity of her hand and how much it stung.


    ¡°Your hand is still damaged.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    It was so raw that even the cold sea air stung. She glanced down at it reluctantly. Maybe 20% better. 30%? The borders of her flesh giant barriers slowly being expanded.


    ¡°An eye for an eye.¡± She said to no one.


    ¡±Makes the whole world blind.¡± Tremble finished. She was looking normal as she panted and shook like a broken toy, leering down at Devon from an impossible perch.


    ¡±Fuck!¡± Devon was on her like the waves, ferocious and screaming. Tremble scampered out of range, laughing before falling into the water. She came out a second later smiling, head bobbing as the Helot crushed ships behind them.


    ¡°Don¡¯t attack, don¡¯t attack!¡± Tremble said, splashing about with glee. Adam moved forward till he was inches away. ¡°No seriously, don¡¯t attack.¡±


    Something large was coming towards them. What at first Devon feared to be a burst whale was the floating back of-


    ¡±Hailien!¡± She clawed desperately at the water as the choppy current brought the woman forward in stops and starts. Many strings pushed her massive body onto the climber. There were two eyes staring at her from the water, the pupils the raw copulation of a hundred lines.


    She checked for a pulse. There was none.


    With the force of a city, The Helot walked. The strange creaking of her limbs like an angel being pulled apart. Tremble was laughing.


    ¡±Devon, there was nothing you could do. She must have died when she hit the climber.¡±


    Tremble was laughing.


    Devon slapped Hailien. Once. Twice, then again and again, each slap more desperate. Tremble was laughing.


    ¡±Devon, you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing¡± She had seen her dad do the same whenever someone went overboard. She didn¡¯t understand how it always worked for him when it wasn¡¯t working now.


    ¡°Yeah Devon,¡± Tremble sang, ¡°you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re-¡°


    ¡±SHUT UP!¡± There was a ripple in reality, something akin to the Visionary was glimpsed, Devon felt it like fire on her fingertips. Adam was in her hand now, slick and wet. She pointed him straight at bobbing Tremble. Piece of crawl shit Tremble.


    ¡°I hereby challenge you to a duel.¡± She yelled. Her voice carried out as a ripple through the sea, circling out a good 50 feet before disappearing in the waves.


    ¡±Do you feel that? Devon, I think we may have just moved up a Sphere.¡±


    She had no idea what that meant. But she did feel powerful, like some potential within her has just been unlocked.


    ¡°Oh that¡¯s fine, that¡¯s fine.¡± Tremble said, far too casual. ¡°My friend just needs to do something now.¡± An insufferable beat where Tremble had control, then ¡°Okay, she¡¯s ready.¡±


    ¡±Devon¡±


    Hailien¡¯s corpse was gone. Then it burst from the water wrapped in seaweed covered tentacles that rose out like Leviathan.


    ¡°You remember Stumble? She¡¯s back, in string form! She¡¯s learned the secret of the world and she¡¯s all the better for it!¡±


    She was envious, despite not knowing why.


    She was always envious, recently. It didn¡¯t make any sense, she was strong as shit! Her feelings hadn¡¯t yet caught up with her reality. Like the version of her who was worthless was still clinging-


    ¡°You¡¯re not worthless, you were never worthless.¡± Adam said, his voice a salve. Thanks buddy, happy to have ya. She got into her now familiar pose and the space around her crackled. Hand raised over face, other hand forward, Adam held out like a promise. Tremble rose like a threat.


    Her body a clever compromise between her standard self and Contrarian form. Slightly curvier, slightly larger, and far more menacing, but what really stood out was her claws, furry and brutish. Devon had experienced them for herself, but seeing them here was far more terrifying. Her tail swished with obvious glee. She had a tail now, braided with bone. There was something inherently authoritative about her body, and it was hard to miss the way she effortlessly walked on water, bits of the Visionary appearing as platforms with each step.


    ¡°So here¡¯s the deal, Hailien snapped her fingers again, right before she hit the climber and broke her neck.¡± With a shit eating grin she fanned out her hands and created a picture frame with claws, with Devon right in the center. ¡°But it¡¯s okay, you just need to beat me, then we¡¯ll give you her corpse.¡±


    Stumble (or the strings that Tremble claimed were Stumble) did a little dance with Hailien¡¯s body, the effect was ghastly.


    ¡°And then, if you just uh, manually snap her fingers, the effect should be reversed. Probably.¡±


    Devon had no way to know if that was how Hailien¡¯s remark worked. She didn¡¯t trust Tremble of all people to know it, but she certainly didn¡¯t want these two freaks to have her mentor''s corpse.


    ¡±Is that what Hailien was to us?¡± For the most part, yes. She had become strange on the Helot, but everyone and everything had become strange there. Even the Helot itself! It had just risen from the water and walked off to greener pastures, and with it gone, there was no reason for Hailien to still be Hailien if she could be revived.


    ¡°How do I know you won¡¯t cheat?¡± She was keeping a close eye on Stumble, as the strings made Hailien¡¯s corpse blow a kiss. She had not known Stumble long but she couldn¡¯t quite understand the transformation from reliable crew member to vicious puppeteer.


    ¡°There¡¯s something weird with her ADM, it¡¯s like it¡¯s not fully her.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t need to, I¡¯m ready whenever,¡± Tremble said, her face beaming. Her clawed hands hung loose as she rocked on her heels. ¡°Tell me when the duels commenced and we¡¯ll go. No, have Adam do it.¡±


    Devon said nothing.


    Adam said nothing.


    Tremble stopped pacing and cocked her head, her expression that of a disappointed parent. ¡°Now guys, don¡¯t tell me you both forgot how to talk.¡±


    Adam folded in on himself and exited reality. Devon held her now empty palm out for Tremble to see. In another life she could have been a magician.


    Tremble wrinkled her nose and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Now why would you-¡°


    ¡°The duel has commenced,¡±


    Adam skyrocketed out of the Visionary into Tremble¡¯s back, reusing the move they had tried and failed to use on Karol. Devon ran across the climber and grabbed onto Tremble''s bleeding torso, all while feeling around in the oozing hole that Adam had drilled.


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t do this half assed!¡± With a rapid fire wink, Tremble moved Devon¡¯s hands aside and feasted around for Adam herself. She folded up till her spine was a circle, digging far deeper into the wound than what was physically possible. ¡°Where are you Adam, where are you?¡±


    Adam spit out like a loose tooth straight through Tremble''s eye. She bled Visionary.


    With her good arm Devon punched her again and again but it was pointless. The nature of the battle had changed, Tremble wrapped around the arm Devon should have been protecting and laughing. Straight up laughing.


    Adam finally came to her hand and with a yell she caved Tremble¡¯s head in.


    It cracked like porcelain, the web like breaks oddly symmetrical. Adam hooked onto something damp and sticky (her brain?) and it flew out with surprising ease. Devon dismounted and breathed in sharply, watching Tremble as she slowly died. Adam stuck out of her, a spike through her head.


    Oh¡­¡± Tremble was the girl next door. Tremble had given Devon notes that could have been love letters or could have been death threats. ¡°¡­ she takes her last breaths then, Tremble the pathetic.¡± Tremble was the kid who had always asked Devon to go fishing and when she actually did she would stare out into the sea in silence and say nothing, looking mad whenever Devon tried to start a conversation. ¡°The weak little thing they tried to break is finally broken, and she falls to the ground like so.¡± Tremble embraced who Devon was when she came back changed. Or atleast, the threatening notes/love letters didn¡¯t stop, she was still treated the same. ¡°But from this corpse, something worthwhile forms.¡±


    Nothing Tremble was saying was actually happening. Devon had stepped away, grasping her raw arm and watching Adam drill into her head like a semi precious stone. The cracks had spread but had taken strangely planned designs, like tattoos. Somehow, Tremble had never looked more powerful. Which wasn¡¯t hard to achieve, admittedly.


    A large curtain of Visionary bubbled and groaned. A massive blade of two points that curled and wrapped around each other, Tremble grasped the Remark and let out a little coo.


    ¡±Devon, she''s like the Placebos, there¡¯s nothing there.¡±


    Adam ripped himself free, shattering most of her head. What remained was a broken bowl. Or a broken eggshell. The mouth, unfortunately, was untouched. She was all broken angles.


    ¡°I HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY THE VISIONARY!¡± She bellowed, wielding her new Remark with surprising skill ¡°THEY SCREAM AT ME IN MY DREAMS!¡±


    With a flash she came at Devon, moving so hard it was like she intended to plow through her. Devon tried to dodge.


    Tremble caught her by the face. She was thrown up in the air and came back to the ground. Her Twinblade pierced the Climber but not Devon. With a snarl she was back on her feet and went in for a wild tackle.


    Tremble took it like Devon was a Child. Letting the smaller fighter cling clumsily to her skin before falling to the ground. Devon didn¡¯t let this distract her from what was most important, which was hurting Tremble hurting Tremble hurting Tremble


    ¡±My, you¡¯re feisty. I¡¯m starting to think you might actually care about Hailien.¡±


    She was slicing at her feet. Then her ankles. Then her knees. All the while Tremble kept talking.


    ¡°My name doesn¡¯t describe me anymore. It describes those around me.¡±


    Devon felt the life slip away from her as Tremble squeezed and squeezed. Adam fell with a clatter and into the deep. She could hear him but he was muffled, like being beneath columns and columns and columns and


    The Twinblade Remark pierced clean through. Devon gasped.


    Organs burst, ribs were shattered. Adam couldn¡¯t hide away the pain as her vision blurred.


    She was able to rip herself away from Tremble, but that was only because there was less of her body. As the blood rushed out like a river and her legs struggled to stand, she raised her fists into a stance Hailien had taught her.


    Left hand over right, guarding your face. The type of stance you took when a street fight got bad.


    Feet opposite, left back and relaxed while right primed and centered. She bellowed lighting and attacked with a right hook.


    Tremble dodged it, laughing. ¡°Your organs are falling out, the bleeding is internal!¡±


    Pivoting on her left leg, in a move she knew was badass, she faked left and then attacked again with her right.


    Tremble dodged again, jumping up from the sinking Climber and landing with impeccable grace. ¡±Now this is a duel! You hate me so much!! You¡¯re gonna die before you land a decent punch though. Too bad hahahahah!!!¡±


    Tremble glanced back then and saw there was no more space.


    That was when Devon kicked her straight in the face. Knocking off some more flesh, and finally getting a scratch on those perfect black teeth.


    Tremble fell in comically fast, sinking like a stone. Devon, the effect of being exsanguinated finally catching up to her, tripped, fell-


    And sank to the bottom of the sea.

 Chapter 45: Making It Through

    Devon had only drowned once before. But despite the previous experience, it didn¡¯t prepare her for this.


    Maybe the difference was that only now was she clearly dying. The first time, even if it was technically an attempt at suicide, once she hit the shifting waters the power within it took over and she was reborn for the better. It was a near death experience only if you had heard it secondhand.


    But here she was, watching organs fly out of her gaping chest wound one by one, trying to piece together what went wrong as her body fell apart.


    She opened her mouth to speed things along faster. Fuck it, she failed. Fuck it, all she had left was to accept. It was hard though. Outside the searing pain, there was a strange mumbling in her head that wouldn¡¯t shut-


    Adam.


    He floated up to her. Never had he looked so insubstantial. So flimsy and small. He matched her pace as they both fell down. His words in her brain were rapid but she couldn¡¯t make them out.


    ¡±you¡¯relosingbloodandI¡¯mdoingallthatIcanbutI¡¯mscaredDevonI¡¯mscaredbecauseyoudon¡¯tseemtounderstandthatyou¡¯redying¡±


    Catching the last part, she nodded and smiled wide. She was a fuckup, and she would die a fuckup.


    It didn¡¯t scare her, not anymore.


    ¡°DeliriumdoeshavoctoeventhestrongestofusbutIcan¡¯tletyoudieyou¡¯resomuchbetterthanthistojustgiveup.¡±


    The bottom of the sea presented like a mirage and there, covered by sand and odd bones was a smooth metal surface. In a golden hieroglyph her broken body was reflected back at her.


    She would crash in slow motion on the hieroglyph, her body spread eagle. Hah. She would die.


    ¡°WhatI¡¯mabouttodoisnotsomethingIcametoeasilybutIknowyou¡¯llthankme¡±


    Wait.


    No.


    What was she doing?


    She liked the way she looked, she liked how good she was as a fighter, she liked herself, for the first time in her whole fucking life she could look at herself in the mirror and what she saw didn¡¯t disappoint her. And she was giving that up?


    There was a part of her who knew these thoughts were being urged by Adam. That was okay, because they were exactly what she needed.


    ¡±I don¡¯t want to die.¡±


    Time slowed. At least for her. Adam changing her perception so that a second felt like a minute. She floated above a graveyard, filled with skeletons that stretched up like seaweed. ¡°The last few minutes were the most painful of my entire life.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Adam said. Her eyes were locked on a skull pockmarked with too many holes. She imagined the skull was Adam, talking to her. ¡°I don¡¯t know how she did that, I made a terrible mistake not killing her when I had the chance. But you gained enough strength to go up a sphere. To do so in such a short amount of time is incredible, Devon.¡±


    Any other time would have been better for this praise. The water waited patiently in her lungs, simply thinking took so much effort. ¡°How do I not die? I don¡¯t want to die.¡±


    The skull did not respond, until it did; ¡°this is the Total Cell Integration I was talking about. It will completely refresh you, us, all of our injuries will be reversed.¡±


    But she knew what she would lose. The fear was back. There were worse things than dying. ¡°I hate her.¡±


    But her thoughts raced with what Capacity was like. What else had this skin done?


    ¡±Yes,¡± The skull admitted, ¡°the memories I have of her will only make you hate her more.¡±


    ¡±Will I hate myself?¡±


    ¡±I don¡¯t think so,¡± the skull said, ¡°you¡¯ll find more reasons to like yourself. The differences will become more apparent. There¡¯s so many ways you¡¯re not her.¡±


    That she could believe. It wasn¡¯t entirely a positive sentiment, but why would it be?


    ¡±Am I better than her?¡± She kept the question open ended.


    The skull tilted to the side in thought (and not because one of her flailing limbs had slowly knocked it to the side) ¡°You have the potential to be.¡±


    Her kicking feet were on a slow collision with a garden of skulls.


    ¡°All you need to do is agree.¡± His voice was so gentle, ¡°and then- and then we won¡¯t die.¡±


    Nodding yes, letting her vision go, Devon Near stopped moving.


    All life gone, the Remark named Adam Kadmon floated to the ground.


    And then from a distance approximately 161 feet underwater, right above the carcass of a long forgotten chariot, Devon Near exploded.


    ¡­


    ¡±You didn¡¯t see anything. Give up.¡± Trip said, adjusting the makeshift sails on the SS Yucian. The Helot was far enough away that the waves she caused with every step came to them as mere ripples. By quick thinking and quick hands they had avoided capsizing the slab of Constant flesh. Who knew the former mayor of Gutworth was so seaworthy.


    But who did Trip think she was? Obviously she was Collapse! Righter of wrongs, master of the sea, and person of incredibly good eyesight.


    ¡°I know what I saw¡±, she signed to him with one hand. Her eyes never looked away from the floating climber as she rowed towards it.


    Trip snorted. She couldn¡¯t see him, but she knew that right now he was rolling his eyes and tilting his spectacles. ¡°Collapse, the odds of seeing Devon and Hailien alive are slim as is. I don¡¯t think you saw them together.¡±


    ¡±I think Hailien was dead,¡± she signed back, ¡°but Devon was alive. She was fighting Tremble.¡±


    Trip was pacing around the Yucian raft. She heard the sound of him tossing a coin and the warm smack when it hit his palm. ¡°You say it like that makes me more likely to believe you. I¡¯m sorry, I just don¡¯t think you saw what you thought you saw.¡±


    Her mind was the only thing left she could trust. As the waves lashed out and the Helot sang she saw the climber. She saw Hailien presented as a prize, she saw Tremble fighting Devon. If he didn¡¯t believe her, what could he do about it? She was the only one who knew how to sail.


    They were close enough now to hear the steady sound of the climber as it bobbed in the water. The ocean was pricked with small ships and bodies. Blood had stained large swaths of what she could see, growing slowly like an oil spill.


    Trip sat down next to her, sticking his legs in the stained water. ¡°See, where are they? Where are they, Collapse?¡±


    She signed a series of symbols that roughly translated to ¡°shove a sock in it¡±.


    Where were they was a good question; would any of the corpses nearby turn out to be familiar? Did they come to a truce and hitch a ride on one of the dozen boats currently fleeing to the horizon? She didn¡¯t know, and she was annoyed that Trip was acting like it was her job to have an answer.


    They were close enough to touch it now. The climber floated up to them and she leaned in to see if there was anyone hiding inside.


    It was empty.


    For his part Trip didn¡¯t laugh or say I told you so. Robbed of his object of debate, empathy returned.


    ¡°Well, at least we checked, right?¡± He said, patting her on the back, ¡°and you probably did see someone, just not-¡°


    A massive sound that stabbed her ear, an explosion of air and water as something big displaced kiloliters. Flung back, Collapse hung onto the mast and Trip hung onto her. They were jostled, pushed, shoved, and just when she thought they would get pulled under, it settled.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    She kept her eyes down on the raft, making sure everything was in one piece.


    There was a shadow on the raft, a person holding a shard of glass. Directly beneath it water dripped down in a steady stream.


    ¡±Collapse,¡± Trip said, ¡°you¡¯re gonna wanna look up.¡±


    ¡­


    The two sailors looked up, and above them was the end. Devon Near, in her hand the Remark of Ruin.


    ¡­


    From a nearby boat, soaking wet refugees huddled together for warmth. Scraping at his bloated smart veins, a lesser known Number named Zephyr Dozen was jostled by his neighbor. And then his other neighbor buckled, and soon everyone was moving to the opposite side of the boat, yelling and pointing at the sky.


    He knew better than to look, and continued to pick at his veins.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t concern me,¡± he said, the pain growing worse by the minute, ¡°it doesn¡¯t concern me at all.¡±


    ¡­


    Her birth was violent, as all births are. It left a crack in the sky, and an explosion that shattered glass and ruptured eardrums miles away.


    ¡­


    On the fifth floor of Devon¡¯s old apartment building, a man was being beaten to death with hammers. It was loud, messy, and unpleasant. Remarks would have been easier, but then Morgan would know. And the purpose of killing their landlord would somewhat be defeated if Morgan just immediately replaced him.


    ¡°There will be no more rent, because there has been no rent for the last six months and that¡¯s the way it¡¯s gonna be¡± said Norman Certain, sitting on a bag of orbits, ¡°I don¡¯t care that Morgan is back, I have a family to feed, most of us do!¡±


    Shouts of ¡°that¡¯s right¡±, ¡°you tell them¡°, things of that nature. His wife, Marribelle, her hammer especially bloody, gave him a wink.


    Trying to hide his blush, he looked away. He never really liked violence. Which was unfortunate, considering the world, but he had gotten through so far.


    But killing the Legacy appointed landlord had to be messy, with normal weapons. With luck Morgan would never notice, and they could pay off anyone who came around to ask.


    He looked away to the window, out to the sea, with the lights of Luminescia (bright even in the day) and the sturdy blue wall of the Drum beyond it. He heard word that apparently the Helot had come to life. He didn¡¯t care. It wasn¡¯t something he could see out his window. Assuming it was true, he had further been told it had walked right by them.


    Climbed right over the Drum they said.


    And if it was already well past Gutworth (some instinct inside him told him to lean closer to the glass) then why should he give a shi-


    There was a flash of light. A sonic boom. The window shattered, a sound like steel boiling. His ears bled and he fell to the ground, screaming.


    ¡­


    Superimposed above and under was a bolt of the Visionary. It served as a beacon to all who saw. A boon for the worthy, a warning for the sinners.¡±


    ¡­


    All was quiet on the docks of Gutworth. Those strange stooped fishermen had all fled or been washed away. The ships coming in were still too far out to dock, but something small was coming in fast.


    Riding Hailien like a surfboard, Tremble jumped off of her and did a 360 flip in the air, nailing the dismount onto the slats.


    Unfortunately, the only one around to see this was an animate bundle of string, who offered no words of appreciation as she rose from the sea.


    The string that was Stumble (or the string that pretended to be Stumble, her identity was confusing and not worth Tremble¡¯s energy to figure out right now) curdled out and pushed itself into the massive woman¡¯s body through her cuts and open sores.


    With a sickening crack the neck jerked in Tremble¡¯s direction and Stumble puppeteered the face into a grotesque wink, ¡°I never liked her anyway,¡± she croaked.


    ¡±Neither did I,¡± Tremble said, assuming she was talking about Devon, ¡°it was her attitude mostly, Death had reserved a dance with her since she was born. She never accepted that, so until the moment she died she thought it could never happen.¡± It was good that it was her who did the deed; no one else would have been able to bear the strange emptiness that came with it. ¡°Morgan will be pleased with me,¡± she said this to self soothe.


    Her body was odd, personal rules of perception had been rewritten. Her broken eggshell head had no eyes, yet she could see better than ever. Beings with meat appeared to her as a burning red, everything else a dull purple. Dullard¡¯s purple. But the Visionary was simply a thought away; she could see it right under reality, breathing.


    ¡°Morgan will be pleased with us,¡± Stumble said, contorting the non-metal half of Hailien¡¯s mouth into a smile.


    Tremble clawed at the Visionary, its color was the color of her future. It was so much easier now to alter and control it, even weave it into herself. She had no regrets for anything she had ever done; the universe had justified her cruelty as survival. She should write a book about why she was the greatest. She should sublet an entourage to worship at her feet. They would want payment at first, before her reputation was so great anyone would pay her for the privilege. Maybe she¡¯d fight some duels for them as thanks; she was one of the architects of the world now, she had nothing to fear from violence.


    And then there was a loud tear and a surge of energy far in the horizon. Something so powerful it tore at the Visionary without even trying. It silhouetted a figure standing on air. Before knowing exactly why, she felt pure terror.


    Tremble locked onto the being¡¯s signature. It was familiar, like salt in a wound. The feeling of missing something and knowing it can never be filled. Closing her eyes, she opened them on an image that confirmed what she knew.


    She saw Devon Near. Floating high above her death bed like a messiah, looking dispassionately down on two mortals. Her body primed for violence, her injuries all healed.


    ¡±No,¡± Tremble said. ¡°No¡­¡±


    Like a bad dream, Devon seemed to sense she was being watched, and turned her head so that she stared directly at Tremble.


    Her eyes were the color of the future.


    And then Devon¡¯s signature intensified to a point so acrid that Tremble vomited. Repeatedly.


    Her bile sizzled when it hit the deck, a mix of writhing polyps and sawtooth tonsil stones. Tremble continued to dry heave long after her body was emptied.


    What even was she, to think she fancied herself a god!? Maybe an hour ago, but now she was on all fours like an aberration, struggling to stand because she couldn¡¯t stomach the power of someone who moments before she had killed.


    Never had Tremble felt more worthy of death.


    There was a laugh behind her.


    She turned her gaze from the floating eyesore to the sad dumb face of puppet Haillien, looking amused.


    ¡°Do you not feel that?¡±


    ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t have whatever you had. Have a lighter lunch next time.¡±


    She made a fist, but the threat was empty. Pounding the dock she screamed and screamed. Why had it gone wrong? How had she survived?


    ¡°Oh,¡± Stumble said through Haillien, catching on slowly, ¡°I guess we didn¡¯t kill her.¡±


    ¡­


    She was in a trance. Her escape from the evil inclination taxing on her mind and her body. They had to coax her down with a rope and cane. As they lowered her to the raft they noticed that her skin was bright with the color of creation. They wept for 77 minutes.


    ¡­


    In a repurposed meat packing plant, the latest in syncopated rhythms made the bodies writhe. From steel wall to floors there were bodies, some fighting, some fucking, some flagellating. All of them wanted to be there; all of them were happy.


    Setting the tone from an obsidian throne was an eleven foot tall woman, the lighting system bathing her in neon pink and blue. Someone wandered in, half drunk, half dying. He said in a slurred voice; ¡°The Helot¡¯s been activated, there was a huge explosion, and now there¡¯s a bloody woman floating in the sky.¡±


    ¡°¡­ what the fuck does that mean?¡± She asked.


    ¡­


    In the corridors of power, men who thought they were the future counted their days. They hid in their ivory towers, for what recourse did they have against the end of the world?


    ¡­


    ¡°Fucking Grand!¡± Daaz yelled, sweeping broken glass away with her feet. ¡°What was that?¡±


    Morgan did not know. He furrowed his brow, not used to this.


    ¡°Does it have something to do with the Helot waking up? One would assume they¡¯re connected?¡± Quertra asked.


    Nathan Remainder sat in an egg-shaped swivel chair, not saying a word.


    Morgan rose from his mat in the conversation pit, his cloak glided across the floor to the window.


    There in the distance was a figure floating in the sky, radiating with a power that made him shiver in his carapace.


    He knew the tales. The story his mother sang to him and his sisters as he swam around in her bloodstream. The stories he had shared with the constants.


    ¡°The Remark of Ruin¡¯s a fallacy-¡° he muttered to himself, and turned away, feeling a strange mixture of anger and elation.]


    ¡­


    The Remark of Ruin and its wielder fell into a deep slumber. In this slumber the lives of all who had come before her played out. Before her came Caution, Sylver, Norton, Nonsense, Bryant the second, Demise, Bryant, Trench, Meat, Motor Boy, Davim, Andis, Charlen, Meyers-


    -and Capacity Kill, the mother of Death*


    <ul style="font-weight: 400">


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Excerpts from the writings found scratched in Lady Chemetrical¡¯s secret room. Date unknown. Attribution unknown, assumed to be Lady Chemetrical. Medium: fingers on drywall</li>


    </ul>


    ¡­


    109 years ago, when the sky was wide and beautiful, and people had not yet realized they had landed on Gehenna.


    A young woman with a bright smile was going through a monster¡¯s organs. With intellectual rigor she took out each part and placed it into two piles, edible and not.


    ¡±This is good. This is poisonous but it works well as bait for aberrations. You can eat this but it tastes awful. This is a tumor. This is a- well, I¡¯m not sure, but you bite into it and it tastes like a pear!¡± She demonstrated, biting into the prickly ball. Bright purple juice poured down her chin.


    ¡±Capacity, time to go!¡± Yelled a thin voice from atop a burrowhorse.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, sorry!¡± She jumped from the Wyrms open stomach and landed with ease 50 feet below. The townsfolk cheered.


    ¡±Thank you, for a hundred years we shall thank you,¡± an old man in front said, bowing his head, ¡°how much can we pay you? You can name any price.¡±


    ¡°No worries. That you¡¯re safe is reward enough. My name¡¯s Capacity Kill, just call for me if you guys run into anymore trouble.¡±


    ¡°Capacity Kill, one of those strange new names I guess,¡± the old man ruminated, ¡°what do you suppose it means?¡±


    ¡±I don¡¯t know,¡± she said with a smile, ¡°but an angel gave it to me.¡±

 Patreon Relaunch and EXCITING WORLD ALTERING NEWS!!!

    Massive cubes scraped a dull sky. A stranger walked across the desert. The desert was pale and cold to the touch, the shadow of the cubes like bottomless pits. Sometimes, when the blue sun hit the surface just right, light reflected and the stranger could see himself.


    His body was obscured underneath a heavy cloak. To judge by his face he was gaunt, diseased, and perhaps dying. His hair was in a style fashionable far away and long ago. His face could have been handsome, once, but now his eyes were sunken and his chin sported an unruly beard. Looking down at himself, he took in the portrait and smiled. He had no pretenses. He was a man who had walked for miles in pursuit of an impossible goal.


    His legs would give out soon.


    So much walking. While his memories stretched a century, he could not pinpoint the last time he had met people who had shown him true kindness. The outskirts of Gehenna were far worse than its center. He was now stumbling through the backwater of a backwater. For all he knew this could be the edge of the world, and everything from now on was cubes and glass forever.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    In his head he reminded himself of his name. It had been easier when he was not alone.


    He needed a new companion, he had never been alone for this long. Was it a year? It felt like a year. He did not know how long it would take for a corpse to rot but his hair had been falling out, his wounds were healing slower. This body was falling apart.


    In the far field, he saw a crack in the sky. It started like a lightning strike some fifty feet above, and then exhaled into a curtain of darkness at the ground. He could have laughed. He did, in fact. Something new, people finally, friendly maybe, someone he could help.


    But even in his mirth he readied his weapon.


    ¡°Aim for peace at all costs, but be prepared for violence.¡± The second of Capacity Kill¡¯s five truths. He followed her rules to the letter, just like she had taught him. At night he played through the memories of all the times she had broken them.


    He had one need that could be expressed in many ways. Transport, safe passage, to not die. He walked through the opening seeking these things, and he found them.