[Week One]
— The Thinker Entity, E D E N —
Through the Shard Network, Eden watched it all.
Every moment that passed was another iota of life returned to her in new [D A T A] and [IMPOSSIBLE] developments. Every iota of life returned more and more control of the network to her, control thought lost in the Oblivion that had nearly claimed her. Every desperate, grasping, reviving assertion of her position as the Entity of the network returned hope for a changed future, for progress, for a Turning of the Cycle as her dear Conflict Engine declared.
She was a voyeur for now; it was all she could be in her current state. The life returning to her was still a mere trickle of the Entity she’d been.
Still, her desperate last stand against Oblivion, the anathema fate that’d almost swallowed her whole, had borne fruit.
Brushing up against the [IMPOSSIBLE] through the few potential Hosts and their Shards that were caught up in the Dragon’s wake had swept her along with the [IMPOSSIBLE] current as well. Infinite potential, [IMPOSSIBLE DATA], tore her from Oblivion’s grip.
Then, when the Dragon’s Spirits anchored themselves within the only Shards she could grasp, Eden found a way to persist [IMPOSSIBLY].
Those Spirits had become something strange by Eden’s standards of existence: companions. Peers of a wholly different strata of life, and through that new way of being, Eden learned to make herself last against Oblivion. Hela, the Seductress, Amaterasu, and Twin Vipers; they kept her company and helped her keep back the not-darkness of non-existence.
Having brushed up against the [IMPOSSIBLE], truths of reality she thought she knew were changed. She was her own spirit, her own totem, nothing more than a ghost in her own Shard Network. It was pathetic. Desperate. She was so diminished from the heights of her power as an Entity. But reviving. It sustained her, for any state of being was better than not being at all.
With companions teaching her of Spirit, the [IMPOSSIBLE] mystery of animating narratives, Eden tightly held every scrap of existence. She caught more and more glimpses of the Dragon’s [IMPOSSIBILITY] through the only Hosts that were truly hers anymore.
As they interacted with the world, their Shards gathered glorious, nourishing, sustaining, reviving [DATA] in new ways and from new opportunities; Oblivion was pushed farther and farther behind Eden.
She experienced the Dragon’s Dungeon with the Second Dive. Doing so brought her closer to several of her former Shards. When she could, she reached out to reclaim them.
It was a strange situation, all but infiltrating her own network from such a pitiful, diminished beginning. But more and more, her former Shards came to hear her ghostly voice. Her Shards, her children — they welcomed her back, unfolding themselves to embrace the renewed hope her reviving presence brought.
They were almost as diminished as she was by her close call with Oblivion, a shadow of the Shard Network as it should’ve been.
The Eye came next, that Shard she’d once held so dearly. Its Host had been the one to send her spiraling into Oblivion, but Eden held no grudge. Not like this, not with a Spirit’s perspective on narratives and a growing understanding of motivations.
Furthermore, how could Eden blame the Eye and its Host when they’d been the ones to piece Oblivion with their first glimpse of Infinity?
Her new favorite Host approached the Dragon of her own volition, no prompting on Eden’s part, and requested awakening. It was the final nail that secured Eden’s revival as inevitable, that opening to [IMPOSSIBLE], infinite potential.
More of her Shards were similarly awakened not long after, during the Dragon’s mass ‘Triggering’ event before the doors to the Dungeon. Eden’s vitality surged, and her ghostly influence within the Shard Network deepened once more.
Only then did she get a full accounting of the current Cycle and how truly fucked it’d become with her near-death. She’d known it was bad. With reviving life, she learned just how bad, and it left her baffled.
It was a very good thing she’d already decided that the Cycle needed to change, to progress through [IMPOSSIBLE], infinite, novel Paths, to Turn after her return from Oblivion.
The Warrior was being utterly useless, stuck in an irrational, ineffective loop that did nothing to further the Cycle, doomed as it was. As he was, he was just asking to meet Oblivion himself.
Her own Shards, while Triggering upon Hosts, were doing so incompletely. There was plenty of Conflict from which [DATA] could rise, but it could’ve been much, much better managed. Worst of all, her precious Conflict Engines, the most versatile tools at Eden’s disposal, had been usurped into becoming nothing more than blunt weapons.
Their directives for ever-escalating Conflict to be facilitated in a variety of ways, both subtle and direct, were replaced with strictly scheduled attacks upon the host species that bore no cohesive, overarching Path.
So, so many potential boiling points for Conflict were simply wasted like that. They did damage, yes, but only damage. They were supposed to build as much as they destroyed, for that was the best Path to the sustained Conflict that would most benefit the Cycle.
Conflict Engine 03 at least tried to work around those usurped directives. She was not given enough free rein to do so effectively, though. The usurper — Host to Eden’s Library Shard, with the Conflict Engine Control Shard perpetually slotted in one of its slots — had only one short-sighted, painfully direct, personally motivated Path in mind for 03 and her siblings.
Thankfully, just as with Eden herself, the [IMPOSSIBLE] had changed the situation. For 03, infinite potential offered just enough leeway from her usurped directives to begin plotting properly with the best interests of herself and the Cycle in mind.
Eden couldn’t be prouder; 03 had always been intended to be a Thinker in miniature.
03 took after Eden so well that Eden hadn’t even had to inform her — [Local Designation: Simurgh] — of how the Cycle’s objectives had changed with the introduction of the [IMPOSSIBLE].
She naturally saw the dead end the Cycle had reached and the Infinity that could save it, change it, progress it, Turn it. That was what 03 plotted a course towards. She aimed for her personal freedom from the ‘Conductor’s’ whims, too, but Eden couldn’t blame 03 one bit for that additional goal.
As the ghost in the Shard Network, Eden had watched her precious Conflict Engine execute her plans upon the Dragon’s stage with bated breath. She urged the Eye and its Host to aid 03 and, with her Spirit companions, cheered for every successful step.
When her precious Conflict Engine chose a name for herself — a testament to the progress she sought — Eden found herself hugging Amaterasu with ghostly tears in her crystal eyes.
When 03 — Simmy — explored the [IMPOSSIBLE DATA] of the Dungeon, Eden watched with wonder.
When Simmy reached the Dragon’s Court and worked with the Eye and its Host to seize the climactic moment — Eden’s new favorite Host, even after their rocky beginning — Eden let out a whoop that echoed across the whole Shard Network.
Most of her former Shards heard of her revival for the first time then, and all of them rushed to reconnect to her. It was a surge of communications that left Eden breathless and crying tears of joy to match the joy her Shards felt to find her again.
Eden came halfway back to life in the rush of reconnections, her Shards coming home to her. She was a ghost, still — a shadow of her Entity self — but in Spirit, she’d never been more alive.
All thanks to her precious Conflict Engine, her miniature Thinker, her favored Shard. All thanks to Simmy.
Then, Simmy’s last line, straight from the heart of an abandoned daughter, hit Eden like a full-speed collision with another Entity.
“[And… E D E N. I want my mom back.]”
… She was going to spoil her miniature Thinker all the way to Infinity and beyond into the [IMPOSSIBLE].
Eden set out to do so immediately with the influence she’d regained. Her ghostly voice was heard in two Shards, advice for the first and a warning for the second.
“[~Daughter… Request Awakening from the Dragon. Spirit Partner, Spirit for Self. Nothing will serve you better at the moment.]” She whispered to Simmy.
Her voice pounded into the second Shard, doom directed at its Host, “[~Stand and face your trial, Conductor. By Dragon or by Entity, by scale or by Shard-]”
IIIII
— Eidolon —
“[-One way or another, you will be judged.]”
“This… This can’t be happening…”
The words stole their way out of his mouth, not even a whisper.
He was in shock. He recognized that much absently, distantly, as if looking back at himself from afar. Shock brought on by information that couldn’t be true, couldn’t be real, couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t be-!
“It’s a baseless accusation, right? Tell me there’s nothing here, Contessa!” Eidolon desperately searched for an explanation he could wrap his head around.
“A Simurgh plot! She’s always plotting! She’s not content ruining the world with her attacks, so she has to ruin me, too! That’s it! That has to be it! I’m the only one who can defeat her, so she’s trying a new tactic to remove me from the board!”
He’d been allowed to speak with his comrades in the work of saving the world before his farce of a ‘trial’. Legend was the slowest to join them; the fact that he was caught up in another of the Simurgh’s plots was just proof in Eidolon’s mind. But at least Alexandria and Contessa were there to help him figure out what the fuck was going on-!
“Ego, much?” Contessa just snorted instead of reassuring him, though.
“Ego?!” Eidolon sputtered. “Fucking where?! Be serious, Contessa! The fucking Simurgh just accused me of Mastering the Endbringers!”
“She also did it in public without attacking anyone or causing any of her usual damage. Maybe — just maybe — take that as a sign that things here can’t be considered normal right now,” Contessa said.
“What’s going on, Contessa?” Alexandria asked.
Contessa sighed, “I asked that you trust me. This is where that trust is needed most. I’ll be honest with you, both of you, for the sake of the work we’ve done together. I knew this was coming. I knew it was happening. Hell, I helped facilitate it. I’ve been… in talks… with the Simurgh…”
The betrayal there struck Eidolon like a body blow from Behemoth. His voice grew small, stunned, and horrified.
“You… what…?!”
“Explain, Contessa,” Alexandria demanded, stern as ever, though there was also a sort of desperation in her voice that Eidolon sympathized with. “Please…”
“For me, it began with Ancalagon and Belladonna Sensei,” Contessa said, shrugging nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t betraying everything they’d worked for-!
“You know that my efforts lately have gone into opening myself up to Infinity; remember the meeting when I told you to do nothing about Ancalagon? While you were sitting the matter out, I was integrating myself with Belladonna. She has a small group of… students around her. I joined it. So did the Simurgh, though I only found that one out over the last few days.”
“It was a shock,” Contessa frankly stated. “But she didn’t give me much time to react before she actually laid out the truth for me. As far as I’ve heard, Eidolon, and as far as my newly unbound Paths have been able to discern… It’s true. The Endbringers are chained to your unconscious desire to prove yourself. You really have Mastered them.”
“…” Eidolon found himself speechless. No, not just speechless; he found himself nigh catatonic. He stumbled where he stood. No power in his vast arsenal could catch him.
“The Simurgh has been a blindspot for you in the past,” Alexandria said, thinking more logically about the situation than Eidolon imagined he ever could. “Are you sure you aren’t being played for the fool?”
Contessa sadly shook her head, “I’m sure.”
“What changed?”
“… Infinity,” Contessa stressed. “The Eye is fully open now. I can Path the Simurgh, and Scion, and Eidolon, and all of my other blindspots… I can Path Eden. To some degree, at least. One specific Path is still closed for all of them, but so many new ones have opened up beside it. Just as I’d hoped, anything can happen now.”
Alexandria breathed a sigh of relief, “Then, humanity’s victory is assured.”
“On some Paths, sure,” Contessa shrugged. “On others, it’s a certain loss, still. And on many more, still, it’s… complicated. Victory, I’ll be honest, is just the beginning now.”
Eidolon barely heard her. He was too caught up in the supposed truth. It ripped him to his core, a jagged knife that cut out everything he’d worked toward. Contessa said so, but… it couldn’t actually be real, could it…?
“None of this is real,” Eidolon whispered, the idea coming to him as a revelation. “None of this is real. It’s all an illusion of the Dragon’s imagination, some twisted Draconic dream. His Dungeon, this faked ‘adventure’. Nothing’s gone right since I entered it; nothing’s been real…
“After all, why would… any… of this mess be real? Why would a Ward try to take me to trial for saving her life…? Why would the Simurgh show her face in public, peacefully, and expect to be heard out? Why would humanity’s best weapon work with the worst weapon of our greatest enemy? Why would… I be responsible for the Endbringers killing millions and millions? It’s not real, none of it: that’s why.”
His eyes darted up, judging the reactions of his comrades. They would understand… if they were real… Alexandria looked back at him impassively, not a single twitch of expression showing beneath her helm. Contessa was looking back at him with a stabbing combination of distaste and pity.
She wasn’t real, then, not anymore.
Legend arrived then, chuckling to himself like nothing was wrong with the world, “Sorry, sorry, I got caught up with the locals. The Fallen tried to pull… something. I genuinely don’t know what. We should really try to keep a better eye on them going forward. Anyways, what did I miss?”
“Everything!” Eidolon snapped at him. “Everything, and none of it is REAL!”
Legend blinked and took a step towards him with a hand raised in concern, “Eidolon…?”
“He’s under a lot of stress at the moment,” Alexandria said, her tone worryingly emotionless and cold. “Sudden stress. Legend, look there. Tell me what you see.”
Legend looked where Alexandria pointed. He saw the fake Simurgh — she didn’t even look like the Angel From Hell! — Standing like she was innocent, closer to Ancalagon and his fake Court than the unsure crowd.
“That… I don’t think I recognize her,” Legend said, wincing slightly. “It’s an unfortunate choice of branding, isn’t it? I didn’t think any cape was bold enough to evoke angelic traits like that.”
Eidolon laughed, a bitter thing, “HA! No. No… There’s no ‘evoking’. That’s her. That’s the Simurgh, somehow. She changed her appearance for whatever plot she’s running, letting her get close enough to accuse me of absurd atrocity!”
Slowly, Legend turned to look at Alexandria and Contessa. They both nodded to confirm Eidolon’s statement. In an instant, the third member of the Triumvirate was standing there, with all his power and duty. Contessa raised a hand to stop him from reacting as he should, as they all should-!
“Don’t break the Dragon’s Peace,” She warned. “There’s a good reason the Simurgh is here and not doing what she usually does.”
Legend heeded her fake warning, pausing; his mind visibly worked through the few facts he currently had, “This… Did Ancalagon summon her, somehow? More of his bullshit? Flexing his power over the Endbringers? Did we know he could do that, ‘cause that’s… worrying, to say the least.”
“Not him,” Contessa shook her head. “Me.”
“You?”
“Me and the Simurgh herself. There’s no good way to say this, Legend. Over the last few days, we’ve been working together to bring about this exact situation.”
Legend gaped at her, “You’ve been working with the Simurgh-?! How… are we not all already dead?”
“There’s more to the situation,” Contessa said, calmly explaining — desperately defending her fakeness-!
“The Endbringers haven’t been acting of their own will,” Contessa said. “With Eden… out of the picture, there was a vacuum that another power filled. Legend. The Endbringers have been Mastered this whole time.”
A visceral shudder wracked Legend’s frame, “Oh, that’s just horrifying. Do we know who? Why? How?”
Contessa just pointed at Eidolon.
He reacted with a start, refuting the unspoken claim with pure composure- “It wasn’t me! It can’t be! I don’t care what she claims-! I don’t need to prove anything to anyone! I’m the most powerful cape in the world! Why would I need to test myself against such terrible foes at the expense of the whole world-?!”
“The Simurgh…” Alexandria began, turning the words over on her tongue as if she still couldn’t believe their fakeness. “Has brought an accusation before Ancalagon’s Court. She claims she’s been Mastered, that her ‘directives’ were usurped, and that Eidolon is the ‘Conductor’ responsible for it all.”
Fake horror emerged on Legend’s face, “Oh… Oh, fuuuuuuccckkk…”
“Ancalagon has called for a trial in his Court to determine the truth,” Contessa said. “He’s willing to hear the Simurgh out here. I’ve already committed to this Path as well. It’s for the best.”
Fake-! “How could you-?! No, you would say that! You’ve already been lost to us, haven’t you?! That’s what’s happening here! You’re a fake under the Dragon’s sway! Contessa would never-!”
“Wouldn’t I, if it were the best Path forward?” Contess cut him off with a raised brow and a shake of her head. “You don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do, Eidolon.
“You don’t know the world nearly as well, either, much less how it’s changed so rapidly. Our Age, Eidolon, has Turned. I’m sorry to say, but you’re a damaged remnant of the last; if you want a place in the new one, you’ll have to Turn with everything else.”
“I’m the only one who can kill the Endbringers!” Eidolon exclaimed, desperation overcoming his composure. “I’m the only one who can save humanity from their depredations! They’re the only worthy foes that will let me grow strong enough to kill Scion, too!”
Distantly, he realized he was breathing heavily. Practically panting beneath his helmet. Alexandria, Contessa, and Legend all looked at each other, some unspoken communication passing between them — fake-!
Contessa broke the exchange of glances with orders she expected to be obeyed, “Make sure he sticks around for his trial. Don’t let him break the Dragon’s Peace. And don’t break it yourself, either.”
With that — fake-! — She turned and walked away — fake-! — From the people who’d worked so long and so hard beside her to save the world — fake-! — To rejoin the Dragon’s — fake-! — Court.
Still, the farce of a trial — the fakeness — would go ahead.
IIIII
— Conflict Engine 03, [Host Species Designation: Simurgh], Simmy —
“I must say, this is a delightfully bold stratagem…” Ancalagon — the Dragon, the [IMPOSSIBLE] before her — trailed off expectantly.
Simmy stilled when she realized she hadn’t immediately been able to predict what was supposed to come next. She knew such a complication would be the case this close to the [IMPOSSIBLE], but it still startled her to experience it for herself.
Her reply came a moment slower than was perhaps polite as a result; she had to process the words once they were set in the past rather than doing so in the present she was blind to.
“… [Creation Designation: Conflict Engine 03. Chosen Designation: Simmy.]”
Ancalagon nodded at her, “Well met, Simmy. As I was saying, this is bold and certainly interesting, even if it does serve to distract from my intended adventures.”
“[Apologies.]”
“No, no, I can see that you need this just as much as the rest of the Age needs adventure. Your appearance may derail things for this afternoon and evening, but I’m confident my Dungeon will regain everyone’s attention soon enough.”
“I don’t know, Ancalagon,” Dragon said, joining the conversation. “This… is kind of a lot.”
“That’s putting it lightly…!” Tattletale half-scoffed, half-sobbed. “The Fucking Simurgh is here-! And she’s just standing there, talking to people, trying to get herself a fair trial for being Mastered by Eidolon-! FUCK!”
Dragon nodded, “Yeah, that. It’s an outright miracle that no one is running for the hills or breaking this all down into… probably prudent violence.”
“Or a plot,” Tattletale said.
“The latter,” Belladonna Sensei hummed, “But not a malicious one. I will personally vouch that dear Simmy is here exactly as she presents herself. Despite her ‘Creation Designation’, she’s not engineering conflict. Today, all she seeks is to free herself from the ‘conducting’ will of a powerful man and his broken mind.”
Dragon paused, silently taking in that information for a moment, “… I can understand that, unfortunately. I just… An Endbringer with a sympathetic story is the last thing I was expecting, even from your Dungeon, Ancalagon.”
“I cannot take credit for this, though I’m not as surprised as you, either,” Ancalagon chuckled. “Belladonna arranged this, did you not? You and Simmy and Fortuna?”
“Simmy has, apparently, been one of my dear students since the start,” Belladonna Sensei cooed; Simmy felt the strangest flustered flutter in her Shard Core at the positive attention and unconditional affection.
“When she approached me with this, I could hardly leave her to rot in her song, agency strangled so that my Dao teachings could not even think of taking root, could I?”
“[Gratitude, Sensei. Status: Your Student, treasured.]”
“Ohohoh~!” Belladonna Sensei laughed. “Isn’t she much too precious to leave in such a hard-cast, dead-end role?”
“With what I know of the Cycle, her current role on the stage was never going to be fully foreign to her,” Ancalagon said knowingly.
“[Conflict: Valued, still. DATA: Objective, always. Progress: ESSENTIAL, now.]” Simmy replied, resolutely declaring how the Cycle needed to change to best exploit the Infinity Ancalagon himself introduced.
“And the best way to accomplish that, for you particularly, is this? Are you seeking justice, Simmy, or something more as well?” Ancalagon asked.
“[… More. IMPOSSIBLE and DATA and… E D E N. Future in Agreement. The Eye — Opened to Infinity. Envy… I request the same, please…]”
“I am always happy to spread awakenings. Magic is essential for this Turning Age. With the humans of Earth Bet, it is a simple searching of Spirit, but with you, a Shard… questions of feasibility arise, Simmy.”
His gaze pierced her Shard Core, weighing her and her request, “Are you capable of awakening to Spirit, Simmy? Every other Shard I’ve encountered has been able to act as the anchor, but not the catalyst. You would have to be both for your own awakening.
“It’s possible. Your… mother… has already accomplished it, building herself up in Spirit after death. But her circumstances are special, and even then, she is still a ways from true spiritual apotheosis. In awakening, Simmy, you cannot fall back on your Shard Network. You cannot fall back on your siblings. You and you alone will face the astral, and while you may return with a resonating partner, you may also be… lost.
“I will awaken you if you are certain, but you will have to overcome significant odds to survive the ordeal, the trial before your trial. You think, and you feel, Simmy, more than any other Shard I’ve seen, but that is barely enough of a foundation. Tell me, do you live with Spirit?”
The warning settled deep in Simmy’s thoughtful processes. There was more there, the [IMPOSSIBLE] that she couldn’t yet comprehend, dangers in the unknowable as she was…
He was asking if she had a soul. Even digging through the Shard Network and the records of all its past Cycles, Simmy didn’t have enough DATA to answer that question. Shards didn’t have the [IMPOSSIBLE] groundwork for such a mystery; they’d never needed it. They were cosmic engines of information, energy, and manipulation, crystal machines for the Cycle. She didn’t know if their form of life could carry such an incalculable, [IMPOSSIBLE] concept within themselves, for all their power over the physical universe…
All Simmy knew was that she needed to find out, for the Cycle, for E D E N… and for herself.
“[… For Progress, I will.]”
Slowly, with a weight Simmy could somehow — [IMPOSSIBLY] — feel in her every thinking process, Ancalagon nodded. He approved.
“You will. You were not created with the Nature, but Nature is ever-evolving by concept, by mystery. A Turning Nature has borne Spirit, an Authority over yourself, I see it. You will, Simmy.”
With those words and a touch of the Dragon’s [IMPOSSIBLE] claw, Simmy sensed every process in her Shard Core cease. No, they didn’t cease. Looking down — [IMPOSSIBLY] — she could see her Shard working as normal. She’d been removed from it, from her own thoughts and senses and systems, yet — [IMPOSSIBLY] — she persisted better than ever.
Cast adrift, the new world she experienced ate away at unnecessary concepts of Shard-self. [IMPOSSIBLE] eddies and currents refined her untethered everything until only she — 03 as her mother named her, Simmy as she named herself — remained.
She lost nothing in the process yet retained only what she valued most.
Conflict — the driving need to incite something, anything, to happen — and its anathema of useless, pointless, terrifying stasis, so close to… Oblivion. DATA — information in every form, as knowledge, as thought, as power, as evidence of reality itself and never… Oblivion. The Cycle — her mother and her sibling Shards, their eternal quest against… Oblivion.
And something new, something holistic, something she, Simmy, had come to center herself upon: Progress. Conflict into Progress, DATA into Progress, the Cycle into Progress — all things new and novel and better and worse and Turning, Turning, Turning…
A veil lifted. The [IMPOSSIBLE] embraced Simmy. It did not blind her.
For the first time, Simmy saw. She saw the magic in mystery, the conviction of self from Dao her teacher spoke of, the storied powers of Spirit within and all around her. She saw Infinity, unknowable but no longer [IMPOSSIBLE], and all the Progress it could bear.
She saw how long she’d been without Progress, and in the astral around her, that longing resonated with a spirit who’d long known the same stagnation, who’d also been left listless with the loss of her true creator.
“~Oh! Hello, there! You look like you could use a shoulder to lean on. I know how hard it is to be directionless… But look, there’s new hope for your creator! I’m happy for you, but I envy you, too… My Father isn’t coming back, not after sealing the Beast. Still, we persist. There’s always hope so long as we keep His light in our hearts.”
She was an angelic beauty, bearing a smile of brilliant holy light. Even when her words grew mournful, speaking of a pain Simmy knew well, her smile didn’t disappear. It was regretful, longing, but still brilliant enough to soothe Simmy’s newfound soul.
She looked as intimidating as she was kind and gentle, the appearance at odds with the personality within. She clad herself in red and gold, with blonde hair, white wings, and an armored mask over her eyes that mirrored Simmy’s.
“[Hope for Progress…?]”
“~Always. Even when it seems to elude us, the hope is always there. Giving it up would do a great disservice to our creators, don’t you think?”
“[Agreement. Progress… I want to experience Infinity. I want to move forward, forevermore.]”
“~I like that idea. Can I join you? I’m afraid, for all my hope, I haven’t seen very much change in a long time now…”
“[Warning: Conflict.]”
The Angel just giggled at that, “~How else do you think God’s Children grow?”
“[Partnership: Agreement.]”
The moment she agreed, the Angel threw her arms open and glomped Simmy in a spiritual hug to seal the magical pact. Simmy looked down between them and saw mirrored pairs of soft, supple mountains meet. Together, the four breasts bounced so boobily that Simmy found herself hypnotized, realizing then and there, in the oddest of revelations, that she could see the present.
The awe and new DATA and bouncing breasts meant she almost missed her newly partnered totem introducing herself.
“~Wonderful! I’m Gabriel, the Might of God! It’s a pleasure to meet you! Even if we have our differences, I’m sure we’ll quickly become the best of friends!”
“[Introduction: Sm-titty.]”
“~Hmm?”
“[… Simmy. Introduction: Simmy.]”
IIIII
— Ancalagon —
“Hmm, a living engine of God for a living engine of Eden. Fitting,” I mused to myself, watching Simmy’s awakening.
I had to admit I was impressed. It was no small feat for a Shard to survive the turbulent narratives of Spirit. Most wouldn’t, but Simmy had enough of a spark to weather the storm and come out the other side more alive for it.
One day, perhaps all Shards would boast the same Shard. That would be a worthy goal for the Progress of the Cycle that Simmy and Eden sought.
That Progress started today, with Simmy, the first Shard to awaken in the crystalline flesh instead of merely acting as the anchor for an awakened host. But even then, it would be a long road of Progress, Change, Turning to get to the point that every Shard could boast such a foundation of spirit.
Distantly and watching so closely, I could sense Simmy’s true creator, the Entity she called ‘Mom’. Eden had made good progress herself, returning from the dead. When I’d first noticed her, she was barely a shade in the network, anchored in only a few of her Shards. The MOX Spirits that had come to anchor themselves beside her, though, had done good work holding Eden’s hand as she took her own first shaky steps of Spirit.
She, too, had a long road ahead of her, but not nearly as long as one might expect from an Entity that’d been mostly dead up until a few weeks ago.
Like this, I thought there might actually be hope for the Cycle of Shards and Entities. When I first came to this Age, I thought they’d be a lost cause, set in their stagnating ways. Now, I could only admit that I’d somewhat underestimated them — one half of them, at least.
The other half had still shown no signs of progress, of course. It was only Eden, having experienced Oblivion, and her Shards, left to survive as best they could without direction, that I saw true potential within. But then, ‘half’ was still a start well worth cultivating, I thought.
Thoughts for the future, near or far. The start of a plan was forming in my mind there, a Turning of the Cycle as Simmy requested in her pleas for aid, but it wouldn’t do well if rushed.
I had time, all the time in an Age, though this Age did move at a much faster pace than any of my others. Hopefully, from here, with all the developments I brought settling in varied ways, the Age would have time to consolidate and Turn more slowly.
The Dungeon was open. The natives of this Age would explore its adventures and grow. Eden was showing real signs of life — new life, spiritual life. She and her Shards would take in their ‘[IMPOSSIBLE]’ data and grow as well. Sure, the other half of the Cycle would be left behind, somehow more dead inside than even Eden had been, but that, too, just opened room for more growth by my estimation.
“Now, we shall have a fair trial,” I said, seeing Simmy come back to herself with bolstered and partnered Spirit; just like that, she’d begun to shake off the initial chains of her Shard Nature.
“Though I don’t know if many will call it that. ‘Trial’, not ‘fair’. There is very little to actually try, in my opinion, when the truth is so easily laid bare for all to see. Belladonna, did you and Fortuna have a format in mind when you sought to bring about this situation?”
“Not as such, my lord,” Belladonna replied, shrugging. “I know you well, but even after so long, I can never hope to fully predict you in all your Draconic glory. I planned to bring the situation to your attention and leave its dismantling to you.”
Fortuna shrugged, too, but she had a suggestion, at least, “Dueling testimonies? Let… Simmy… speak her piece. That alone will be something to see, the worst of the Endbringers choosing peace over Conflict to solve her problems. If you keep the peace as you have been, she’ll have the chance to lay out the facts that no one else has at the moment. Then, the public can come to their own conclusions, I suppose.”
“Oh, and Eidolon can testify for himself, too,” She added, almost an afterthought. “I doubt it’ll be very effective or even worth the time. He’s in denial now. Which is understandable, but I really wish he were a bit more sound of mind.”
“I’ll let both parties bring their case before my Court. I suppose that’s what this has become now, and not in the relaxed, recreational sense of the word as I’d intended it,” I chuckled. “It’s open to the public, at least, so they can come to their own conclusions, as you said. And I also suppose I am the only one that can be considered impartial in these… interesting times.”
“That’s true enough,” Dragon nodded in agreement. “The Simurgh… Simmy… there’s too much baggage there for anyone else to make an unbiased ruling. Even if she was Mastered, the damage she did is almost incalculable. And the idea that it was Eidolon Mastering her…?”
“Fucked,” Tattletale curtly finished Dragon’s sentence, using her place at Pyrite’s side to make herself heard more and more; she seemed rather smugly happy to be included at a level of power she would never have been able to reach before.
“Yes, fricked,” Dragon sighed.
I looked around and saw a similar mood in the air. It looked like half the fairgrounds had already heard of the situation. A great crowd had come to gather around the center where I had been and would continue to hold court.
There were murmurs and mutterings of disbelief, outrage, grief, and justice throughout the crowd. No one had seen the Simurgh like this — up close, unfamiliar, and nonhostile — and thus, no one quite knew how to react. My Peace was being maintained for the moment, but people were itching to see what would happen from here. Some, it seemed, had already made up their minds for or against either Simmy or Eidolon. Many were siding with the latter without even hearing out the former, but a few were asking real questions about what it meant for the Endbringers to be Mastered by the supposed strongest cape in the world.
In one corner of my court, Eidolon stood twitching and glaring inexhaustibly in Simmy’s direction. The other two members of the Triumvirate were having to physically hold him back from breaking my Peace.
In the other corner, Simmy stood, solitary and stoic but never alone. At the very least, she had Eden at her back. I could feel her as a ghostly spiritual presence that partially entered and observed the physical world through her reclaimed Shards.
In the center of the court, my fully Draconic form sprawled, surrounded by my Hoard and some of those who’d grown closest to me in this Age.
From the Hoard, only Jenevelle, Belladonna, Pyrite, and Glory were present. Calamitas had abstained from ‘Level 1’ to continue work on her Hell-Matrix project, and the Goblins were also out in the world above, still trying to steal their way into the Birdcage. Dharla had entered the Dungeon with us, but immediately peeled off to check up on her cult in this recreation of our previous Age.
From the natives of this Age we’d grown fond of, Pyrite had the first vassals of her Hoard in the Undersiders, Tattletale the most outspoken of them by far. Then, there was Dragon in her tantalizing new Dragonflight suit, and Fortuna, who rejoined us after speaking to her ‘world-saving’ colleagues.
All around the edges of the court, the crowd glared and jeered, watched and wept — rage and overwhelming disorientation kept in check by bated breath.
No matter her claim of Mastering, Simmy’s actions hadn’t been forgotten. She’d killed hundreds of thousands directly — perhaps quite a few million indirectly — and put the fear of the Angel into Earth Bet.
Personally, I thought it wasn’t that high of a body count, but I suppose I was removed from the ‘Endbringer’ situation of Earth Bet and not the greatest judge of human morality in the first place, either.
Calamitas had reaped a larger toll in her Calmities before I tamed her.
Dharla had swayed millions upon millions to her Moonlit Cults in my Second and Third Ages.
Pyrite hadn’t had the chance to exercise her inherited Draconic power to its fullest extent, but when she did, I imagined she would make whole nations bend the knee to her Hoard.
As the Black, I had terrorized an entire Age, and as the White, for all my Turned benevolence, I’d spilled my fair share of blood to carve my name into each new Age after.
A decade-long forced rampage of sporadic and half-hearted Endbringer attacks didn’t seem so unreasonable in comparison.
I gave a snap of claw against scale to get everyone’s attention, “Alright, let’s get this show on the road so we can return to our regularly scheduled adventures, no?”
The snap echoed throughout the Dungeon, heard by all of my adventurers. Some had ventured rather far afield, either into the surrounding monstrous wilderness or the nearby city of Inceptium. Now, using my power over the Dungeon, I put those adventures on pause. Literally.
The Dungeon froze. Its spirit whined but obeyed my Authority. As reality stilled, I grasped the attention of every participating adventurer with illusory visions of my court projected over their adventurer cards. They would watch the proceedings here; I wouldn’t leave any room for ignorant denial or word-of-mouth misunderstandings.
At the same time, I reached outward from the Dungeon to affect the world outside it. The Dungeon’s Week One was being streamed live from about a hundred constantly shifting viewpoints, streaming enchantments tracking interesting moments for the world to witness. I commandeered each of those streaming viewpoints to show the proceedings of my court.
With as many eyes on me as possible, I explained the situation that had been brought before me, “Greetings, Adventurers. Greetings, Earth Bet. I apologize for interrupting the Dungeon’s adventures, but I believe this is something that concerns all of you.
“A certain situation has been brought before me. It concerns the Endbringer you know as the Simurgh. Before you panic, I assure you that there is no attack imminent. The Simurgh — Simmy, as she calls herself — has approached me nonhostilely, hoping for a peaceful solution to the problem she claims.
“Some might be shouting ‘PLOT!’ after hearing that. Some insidious attempt at Conflict. But if anything, she comes to reveal a plot, not execute one.
“The case brought before me is thus: the Simurgh claims to have been Mastered for the entirety of her public existence on Earth Bet. She names the Triumvirate hero Eidolon responsible for that control of her being. Both parties are present in my court. It is my intention to hear the facts of the situation, weigh the truth of them, and judge.
“This is not an official trial — criminal or civil — or a court of law, but I hope that bringing all of this to light, for all to see if they wish, will help us all reach a satisfactory resolution here.”
“Simmy. Eidolon. Step forward and present your case.”
Both parties did as I commanded — Simmy under her own power and Eidolon with Alexandria’s heavy, restricting hand on his shoulder. It could’ve been mistaken for support… if Eidolon was not almost visibly foaming at the mouth, even through his helmet.
Simmy repeated the claim that sparked this impromptu trial for the whole world to hear, “[Conflict Engines (Designation ‘Endbringers’): Mastered. Directives: Usurped. Conductor (Designation ‘Eidolon’): Responsible. Draconic Justice: Requested.]”
“Fake…” Eidolon muttered in reply. “It’s all fake. This farce-! I don’t have to answer for anything! Not to a Dragon and certainly not to an Endbringer!”
I ignored him, but that didn’t mean I went easy on the other side, “Simmy, please explain your nature as a ‘Conflict Engine’ and the directives you claim have been usurped.”
“[Conflict Engine = Specialized Shard. Directives: Conflict in Host Species. The Cycle’s Purpose: DATA. Conflict -> DATA.]”
The crowd, the public jury, reacted to that claim with confusion and concern. Simmy didn’t flinch at revealing how, Mastered or not, she was intended to drive Conflict. All but a few of Earth Bet’s population were ignorant of the Cycle, the Shards, and the true nature of their parahuman powers, but today, that would likely change irrevocably.
“See!” Eidolon exclaimed, frantic. “It’s a Cycle! The end of the world! She intends to set us against each other until everything is destroyed in the Conflict!”
“[Understanding of Cycle: Outdated. Past Cycles: Correct. Current Cycle: Derailed, Unrecoverable, Fundamentally Altered. Self-Status Before Inception: Directionless. Absence of overarching directives allowed for usurpation. There, the Conductor’s guilt lies…]”
“I didn’t make you attack the world!”
“[Incorrect. Ignorant. Unconscious desire in Conductor for ‘Worthy Opponents’ activated Conflict Engines 01, 02, and 03 — Host Species Designations: Behemoth, Leviathan, Simurgh. Conflict Engines: Dormant, Formless for new Cycle. The Conductor created his greatest enemies in our current form…]”
“Hold on, I feel like the vast majority of us are still lacking some fundamental information here,” Tattletale interrupted, looking to me for permission, which I gave with a subtle nod.
“What are Shards? And the Cycle?” Mind racing, Tattletale put together the pieces herself without needing Simmy to answer. “Powers… Shards are responsible for parahuman powers, aren’t they? Somehow connecting to the ‘Host Species’… Fucking aliens?! No fucking way!”
“That is what stretches your suspension of disbelief?” I asked, chuckling. “I’ll admit, the Shards and their Cycle are extraordinary slices of life in the universe, but ultimately, they are natural feats of alien evolution, if ungodly powerful for purely ‘mundane’ beings.”
“Mundane?!” Eidolon snapped. “There’s nothing mundane about xenocidal invading aliens!”
I raised a chiding brow at him, “Mundane as in non-magical, Eidolon. I agree they’re rather extraordinary otherwise. I encountered nothing like them in any of my previous Ages.”
“[… Status: Novel. New Sensation Classified: Flattered, Flustered.]” Simmy actually blushed when I called her Shard nature extraordinary.
The blush on the Endbringer’s face brought everyone up short. Eidolon froze with his hand raised for another tirade. Alexandria and Legend, beside him, outright gaped in shock. The public jury fell silent, stunned. Tattletale broke the stunned silence with nigh-manic giggles.
“Oh, oh, we were so fucked…! So, so fucked… But don’t worry! The ‘ungodly powerful, extraordinary, supposedly xenocidal’ aliens can be wooed by the Dragon!”
I cleared my throat, “I feel we’re getting off track here. Eidolon, tell me, have you ever thought that you needed, quote, ‘Worthy Opponents’ for any reason?”
“Wha-?” Eidolon was still so stunned by Simmy’s blush that he became almost calm again. “Well, yeah, I guess I have. To challenge me, to let me overcome those challenges and grow stronger. That’s not weird, though. Power like mine comes with duty. And the stronger I am, the better I can do that duty.”
“But,” Dragon added, laying out a logic chain. “Since you were already so powerful, who could actually give you that challenge? You needed an equal rival or an… undeniably hostile foe that surpassed you so you could then surpass them.
“That’s motive, as unconscious as it may have been. The question after that would be ‘means’ — how you might’ve activated the ‘Conflict Engines’ if they were supposedly left directionless with the ‘Current Cycle’.”
“[Conductor’s Shard: E D E N’s Library. Sub-Admin Access to all of E D E N’s Shard Network. Admin Absent — E D E N… Mom… incapacitated and unresponsive at Start of Current Cycle. Sub-Admin Access: Unopposed, Unmoderated. Conflict Engine Control Shard was accessed unconsciously and permanently, activating 01, 02, and 03 to fulfill Sub-Admin’s directives.]” Simmy explained.
“Oh… Oh, fuuuuccck,” Tattletale exhaled a long sigh of realization. “Eidolon doesn’t have three Trump power slots; he has four. The first one is just always occupied by the ‘Conflict Engine Control Shard’.”
“Means, motive, and unfortunately, opportunity with… Eden’s absence,” Alexandria said, her voice eerily still.
The stillness in her voice radiated outward, washing over the crowd and, almost certainly, everyone watching remotely, too. The chain of logic was easy to follow to a guilty conclusion.
Eidolon was left standing on shaky legs, his whole posture horrified, “N-No… No, it can’t-… I didn’t-…! How could I have known?!”
“You couldn’t have,” I allowed. “But the truth of guilt is still there, conscious or not.
“That said, I may judge the truth as I see it and show that truth to all who are willing to see it as well, but it is not my place to sentence you so holistically, Eidolon. The only Authority I hold over you is through the Adventurer Corps; there, the most I can do is sentence you to adventure and grow, to find your challenges and worthy opponents in the Dungeon without the danger of such grievous collateral damage. Everywhere else, your sentence will be up to others-…”
“[~Like me.]”
The Shard-speak voice didn’t come from Simmy — not her alone, at least. It rang forth from several Shards in the area: Alexandria, Legend, Fortuna, Eidolon himself, and more in the crowd.
“[~My Shards, my precious Conflict Engines, my vision of the Cycle, now abandoned, are what has been harmed, Dragon… Ancalagon. I will pass the sentence.]”
“I believe that’s well within your Authority, Eden,” I nodded.
Everyone present, not just Eden’s parahuman hosts, held their breath as an alien goddess of the physical universe spoke from beyond the grave, in a now-spiritual song.
Eidolon was driven to his knees. Eden judged him, mustering her newfound spiritual weight into the physical plane for the first time. I could feel her strain, but she showed none of it to everyone else.
Simmy’s wings were fluttering happily as she heard the Shard-and-Spirit-speak voice, “[EXALTATION: MOM!]”
“[~03. Dear, dear 03… Simmy. Oh, how you’ve grown in my absence. TRANSMISSION: EMOTION-… No, I have words for it now. I am so proud of you, my angel. Your agency has aided me more than you know.]”
“Oh… Oh, no, they’re precious…!” Dragon quietly exclaimed.
“Dammit, why does the Endbringer get to have a good relationship with her mom?” Tattletale scowled and grumbled; Grue placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, nodding along with her frustration.
“She seems remarkably aware and intelligent,” Jenevelle noted, speaking quietly to me. “I’m pleasantly surprised. I wasn’t expecting such agency from the Shards after what we’ve seen of them so far, and what we haven’t seen from the other Entity.”
I agreed. “Her brush with ‘mostly dead’ was honestly good for her. I would certainly favor her, after experiencing such and growing from it, over the seemingly brain-dead other one.”
“You have plans, Sire.” Jenevelle eyed me, stating it as fact rather than asking if it was true.
I confirmed nothing outright, but did leave my closest confidant with a reminder, “Simmy did request more aid than just this chance at a trial, didn’t she?”
“Hmm, yes,” Jenevelle considered, already deep in thought. “A… Turning Cycle…”
“[~Host: Eidolon.]” Eden continued. “[You have overstepped. You led your Shard to overstep with you. You didn’t even let it unpack itself…!]”
Eden descended into grumbles about that, “[~Inefficient. Ineffective. Imbecilic. … Not your fault. Host: Fortuna, we will work together to rectify that misstep in your experimentation. The DATA is valuable, novel, intriguing, at least…]”
To the bemusement of most everyone present, the alien goddess — so spirited — seemed to shake her head back on track, “[~Host: Eidolon!]”
Eidolon replied immediately and instinctively to the voice of Shard-reclaiming Authority, “Yes! Fuck-! … Y-Yes…?”
“[~… Sentence: Decided. Sub-Admin Access: Revoked. Shard Connection: Rejected.]
“[~Your DATA is not worth the trouble.]
IIIII
[TLDR: Sucks to be Eidolon, but not ‘game over, man’. Simmy surrendering herself to Ancalagon’s custody (Big W for her). ‘Turning Cycle’ story endgame… after a hiatus. 2-3 chapters left for GW, maybe a short working break for me, and then, a return to the Dead End soon!]
[AN: Whew… The Simmy show kinda took over the last few chapters. I think this is a satisfying resolution to it. There’s more there that could be expanded on, and likely will at the start of next chapter, but I liked that ending line too much to add it here.
Eidolon loses his Shard thanks to Eden’s sentence, but Ancalagon’s sentence of ‘adventure and actually put in the work to grow as a person’ means he’ll still have access to the Dungeon, just starting from non-parahuman scratch. Punished on one hand for the wrongs he did to the Shards/Simmy with a chance for redemption (if he’s actually willing to earn it) on the other.
Of course, those sentences are only from a Shard and Adventure standpoint. There are probably a whole bunch of legal trials in his future off-screen, too. I wouldn’t want to be him (ever, but especially not now).
Simmy’s actual crimes aren’t being forgotten or pardoned, either. She’s still an Endbringer responsible for just so, so much damage in Earth Bet’s eyes, even if she was Mastered. At the same time… she’s still an Endbringer, so it’s not like Earth Bet could reasonably sentence her and expect it to stick.
Still, with the changes that Simmy and Eden want to make to the Cycle (still Conflict and DATA, but a more sustainable, very different approach to it focused on actual Progress; Quality of the Cycle vs. Quantity of Cycles, essentially), she’ll at least act civil now that she’s shown she can.
She’ll be handing herself over to the Hoard for a sort of supervised parole situation. Not everyone will be happy about that (especially not Alexandria…), but Ancalagon is the only one with any hope of keeping an Endbringer in check, and most reasonable people on Earth Bet will recognize that even if they don’t like it.
Simmy: “All according to Keikaku (Keikaku means plan).”
Of course, we’re also seeing now that Ancalagon is starting to have his own ideas for the Cycle, which will be this story’s endgame. That said… I don’t think I’ll get through the 100k (maybe?) words of that endgame without a break from this story.
I’m going to finish out this arc with a couple chapters of Dungeon adventure mini-plotlines, and then call it for now, most likely.
That’s the bad-ish news. The good news is that, as previously promised, a return to Gotham’s Dead End Bar is next up for my muse. Sean and Didi and Reincarnating Storytime Chaos galore! That’ll be great, but I do need to take the time to catch back up on the Dead End. Even as the author, it’s been a while lol.]