Fire warheads. Engage defenses. Secure throne.
Casualties mandatory.
Turn the falsehood of Avalon to glass before it can be made into truth.
—Orders received by Penitent “Crippled Tiger” from Core-Com prior to the Battle of Post-London
VIII-16
Enemy Unknown
“She flickered? What do you mean, she flickered. Tell me everything, down to the last detail.”
Veronica went from furious to utter calmness in a fraction of a second. She was still in a meeting when Shiv interrupted her. Representatives were disrupted as he blasted through the doors. Wards, spells, and guards were teleported in, surrounding him in an instant. They didn't recognize him at first, for he used his Severed Shadow in place of a physical body, but such a thing was necessary. It didn't take much to guess who the Faceless Queen was referring to before she was cut off.
The moment the Forbidden Empire and the Faceless Queen were brought up, Veronica’s eyes widened, and the meeting was effectively adjourned on the spot. The representatives didn't even get a chance to protest. Veronica waved a hand, and a pulse of static mana spirited them away. All other guards were banished as well. She and Shiv appeared in her private office a blink later, and she sent a summons for Anthony, but aside from the senior Councilman, no one else was to know what was about to be discussed.
Within her innermost sanctuary, Shiv gave a blow-by-blow of recent events, and where Veronica's expression went vacant, her mind spun at a pace he had never seen before. The translucence of her thoughts hardened into waves of crashing mist. “And this has never happened before?” she asked. “The Faceless Queen has never so abruptly disappeared while talking to you?”
“Not once.”
Veronica leaned over her stone table and grimaced. “This could be an opportunity, or another trap. The Forbidden Empire has long since wanted something from New Albion. I tried to discover what multiple times in the past, to no avail. All Inquisitors dispatched went missing. It didn't matter whether they were Masters or Legends. Communications cut off, and they never returned. No sign of their disappearance. I always assumed that was New Albion's doing, but what you claim—with what is happening within your Gate, it might have been the Old Ones all along.”
“She called them the Old Ones too,” Shiv said. “According to someone else I know, they're the only nation left over from Earth's pre-System days. Is that right?”
“And who is this someone else?” Veronica asked, narrowing her eyes at Shiv.
He shrugged in response. “Can't give up everything, Veronica. I have to have some secrets of my own, but he's trustworthy, really trustworthy. You should think of him like an outside context problem, not so different from Udraal—”
“A Farwalker, then?” Veronica said, nodding to herself in confirmation. “That is a reliable source.”
He all but flinched at her accuracy. Inside, the Harbinger seethed. “Do not tell her anything she does not need to know, do not even hint. Your arrogance just cost you.”
“Have you spoken to him yet?” Veronica asked. “About this matter specifically?”
“Not yet, but I'm gonna go to him next. Came to give you a heads-up first. If things are going weird and the gig gets real unstable, well, this is why. We got problems with Uva as well. From what we can tell, there's a false flag operation in play, crossing both our Gate and Weave. The Forbidden Empire is preparing to expose them to the First Blood when we get hit by the orcs. If I had to guess, they're going to slide in at the last moment when everything's looking really bad and then join the fight on our side. That'll make Aviary look like the villains, considering their assets will be caught during the explosion in the following investigations.”
Veronica hummed. “That makes sense. It also makes sense why they would do this. They're targeting you. They want to secure your influence, but they don't want to kill you. There's too much power involved. You're a poison pill for them. If they eliminate you in any way, then they will suffer the full attention of the System. And their entire existence has already been dedicated to rejecting the System's blessings.”
The stone door leading into her sanctum groaned as it slid open. Anthony marched in, and a trail of shadows followed. Harlock was present, his Divinity pressing down upon the chamber as the darkness in the corners began to dance.
“Anthony. New Albion. Weave. Africa.” Veronica spat individual words in turns like they made complete sense.
Instead of asking for clarification, Anthony just nodded. “I see the Old Ones are moving again. And trying to make a move on our special economic zone.” The old man rubbed his face as a look of weariness stained his gaze. His attention went somewhere distant, and memories gripped him. Memories and a faint trauma. Long-dulled, but there nonetheless. Anthony was far easier to read than Veronica. Through that slight gap, in that brief moment of weakness, Shiv felt something that he had tasted so many times: an unwillingness to engage, a fear of a certain foe. The old Councilman had suffered at the hands of the Old Ones, and he wasn't looking forward to facing them anew.
“You did the right thing coming in as a Revenant,” Anthony said, looking Shiv up and down. “If you came as flesh, they would likely know everything. I don't know how, I don't know why, but anything that has a signal, especially machinery, anything that occupies a stable state of matter, they can subvert and spy through.”
“How?” Shiv asked, desperate to know, because he had been sweeping his gaze across the Gate. “We came up with another excuse, something about hunting down a spy that's hiding in the residentials—but we got nothing. Just what kind of skill are they using? Or a Feat? Is it something connected to the Faceless Queen?”
“Neither a Skill nor a Feat," Anthony said. "I need you to understand some things. When it comes to the Old Ones, they are antagonistic to magic itself. They reject all things rooted in the common narrative, and they are determined to use the old ways over the new. By old ways, I mean this.” From his pocket, he pulled out a vial, within which seemed to be a faint glimmering of grey mist. Particulates swirled about, and as Shiv focused on the mote-like substance, he felt a dull ache assail him. It was like a patch of nothingness was stabbing into him. The very same patch he'd felt crawling across the nervous system of the fried saboteur Uva had discovered, and that which originated within the Dead Zones: nuclear silos and sites consumed by leftover radiation within the ruins of the old world.
"What is that?" Shiv asked.
"Nano-machines," Anthony said. "Molecular tech. Some lines are even picotech. Pure technology, so far detached and removed from the individual that the System, for whatever reason, refuses to anoint it with a legend. It cannot gain Paths or skills, but we believe it is self-aware to some capacity."
Shiv blinked as he examined the dust again. “What, these grains? Self-aware?” And then he remembered something not too dissimilar. “Is it like the Pale?”
“Much worse than the Pale,” Veronica declared. “We believe this substance, in a much diluted and spread out density than the contents of this vial, creeps across every inch of our world. We've found it in the water, in the air, at the edges of the atmosphere, and in the deepest reaches of the Abyss we've been able to access. Worse yet, it's even in the void somehow. They are watching us in the far darkness, spying on us with their ancient machine-eyes.”
“So wait, we've been surveilled this entire time?” Shiv asked, incredulous. “And you knew this?”
“We suspected it,” Veronica corrected. “At present, it remains but a suspicion still. But all evidence seems to hint at this fact. Our assets deployed to uncover their hidden voyeurs have all gone dark. All but one.” Her attention turned to Anthony.
The old man had his arms folded. His body language and posture were closed off like never before. He steeled himself, though he hid his terror well.
“Even their technology has limits,” Anthony rasped. “At least I think they do. In my youth, during the earliest days of the Republic, just after I was chosen as an Avatar for Harlock, there was an attack, with similar circumstances to what you suffer now. The Faceless Queen did not reveal herself in person to me, but several Aviary cells were exploited and exposed. It was not a direct act of devastation they inflicted, but a targeted series of assassinations and replacements. They were effectively killing and taking the roles of representatives to manipulate the structure of the Republic from within.”
“Then what happened?” Shiv asked. He had other questions as well, like why the Republic didn't retaliate against New Albion. But perhaps they had, and that history was simply buried. Propaganda was a powerful tool after all, and the Ascendants had fought losing wars and covered up the ugly aftermath. They'd done the same for the Abyssal conflict, after all. Everything Roland did was re-characterized as a heroic defense on the part of the Republic rather than a scheme concocted by one of their own to gain access to the Great One.
“Someone else got to the Aviary agents before we did,” Anthony continued. “Someone fried them synaptically, destroying their minds but leaving their bodies intact. We managed to rebuild and reboot their minds in certain ways. In one instance, we had a Legendary Biomancer reconstruct the brain mass of the afflicted, but when they returned, they were effectively fresh entities, bearing no recollections of who they were and what they had done.”
“So the Aviary agents were hollowed out.” The Dryad of Lies shuddered within Shiv. He'd brushed against something, a grand web that went so dark and deep it was like he was staring down into a yawning ocean without a bottom. In the darkness, there were unseen things—things perhaps as dangerous or more treacherous than even he—and they could see him clearly in the black.
Shiv despised that feeling; he refused to remain a pawn for long. “Alright, from what I can understand, the Faceless Queen still intends to arrive at our Gate for her diplomatic visit. That's when the attack's going to happen, and Weave is going to be hit around the same time. We're going to be overwhelmed. We have a gateway leading directly to Weave. They are going to be calling for assistance as well. And if the Forbidden Empire is setting up this attack, I'm guessing that the First Blood will be receiving intelligence that one of their most hated adversaries is going to be wide open in a few days.”
“An apt assumption,” Anthony praised. “But though I know you're impatient to act, I tell you now: use restraint. In the days that followed the attack on our Republic, I went seeking the perpetrators, for no one simply burns a spy at work without leaving some evidence in their wake. I was right. After a month of surveillance, we managed to track an automaton who was reported near all the crime scenes or in their proximity. Just as it was scheduled, it booked passage out of the Republic, its trip leading toward the Atlantic. After which it continued on, diverging from the vessel that carried it alone, hopping overboard and moving through hostile and monster-nation territory.”
“But you had people trailing this unknown automaton all this time?” Shiv asked.
“Many Masters and Heroes of Stealth, with myself at the helm of the operation.” Anthony's gaze went distant once more. “It was a different time, and I was more risk-tolerant then.”
"But that changed after the operation?”
The old Councilman didn't answer that immediately. Instead, he forced an admission out of himself: "I cannot tell you what happened during the operation, because I don't fully remember either. All I can say is that Harlock barely managed to preserve my existence. We approached the vicinity of the Forbidden Empire, and whatever we saw there affected us mentally. It unraveled our minds. The mere sight alone assailed our consciousnesses, and apparently, I underwent a bout of severe psychosis.” Anthony looked at his hands. “It appears that I killed the entirety of my fellow Pathbearers for the glory of the Forbidden Empire.”
“That explains the trauma,” the Harbinger mused. “But more than trauma, there is the observation of control. Anthony shouldn't have survived. The only reason he did is that he is an Avatar. Which means that the Midnight’s presence kept him intact even against the pure technologies wielded by the Forbidden Empire. But though it preserved him in flesh, it couldn't spare his mind from hostile control.”
Anthony lowered his hands. “In the aftermath, I tried to piece everything together. I tried to retrace my steps several times. I dispatched freelance operatives. I even grew desperate enough to seek information from our original enemy.”
“Aviary,” Shiv guessed.
“Yes.” Anthony shook his head. “They refuse to speak about the Forbidden Empire. They refuse to even declare the Empire by name. It seems that their policy when it comes to their greatest enemy is silence. It is a pretense of ignorance, and apparently, this ignorance functions as something of a shield, for New Albion seems to be the only nation that the Forbidden Empire attacks directly using their leftover instruments of war.”
There remained grand patches of utter blackness and unknowing within Shiv's mind, but things were coming together. The Penitent Chassis were affected by the System, which made them expendable operatives for the Forbidden Empire. Such might be the reason why the Forbidden Empire refused to use force as a first resort. Every act of conflict fed the System. It engendered strife, and through that feedback, a tether might be made, connecting perpetrator and victim, empowering the victor over the defeated. With the Forbidden Empire desperate to avoid mana contamination, the only strategy they had left was the most subversive of all methods: subtle manipulation by ancient pre-System technology, severed from magic.
“The Forbidden Empire has influence over every major civilization across Integrated Earth,” Veronica said. “The only reason why I dare utter their name at present is because of Kathereine and this chamber. We are effectively in another place, in another strand of time, in a self-contained realm, isolated from the rest of reality. They should not be able to spy upon us here. We are, from the moment we enter this room, outside of existence entirely. And between the divine mana empowering Anthony and me, along with your Revenant form, there should be another layer of protection there as well.” But her features tightened as another admission slipped free. “Even so, I cannot be sure. This is but an assumption, and you took a risk coming here regardless.”
“Well, if they know, we'll find out soon,” Shiv replied. “Can't imagine the Forbidden Empire just waiting around for us to counter them.”
“I fear there is no easy way to do so,” Anthony said. “We don't understand how they operate. We have no idea of their true limitations, though they must have limitations, because otherwise, why haven't they seized control of this entire world? Why are we not already enslaved to them, as they did me when I drew close to their shores?”
“Good questions,” Shiv muttered. “I think that might be connected to the Faceless Queen. She's got limitations as well. We don't fully understand why she can pop up in front of me in Piety, the Republic and other places up north, but can't show up here. She somehow didn't know what was happening when I was in the theater with Veronica either. I feel like there's a connection between her and the Forbidden Empire we aren't seeing. In fact, she herself might be the reason why they keep going after New Albion.”
“Muising about these things does not help our present circumstance,” Veronica said. "Focus on what is at stake right now. If you are to rebuff the Forbidden Empire's attempts at creating a crisis, then you must strike promptly and surgically. You must stop them the moment before they detonate their warhead and expose your Gate to the tutorial. At the same time, you need to intercept and capture all of their subverted assets inside Weave if you do not wish to be drawn into a defensive war.”
Shiv hesitated before bringing up his next request. “Veronica, I know you're not going to like this, but—”
“Yes, I will allow it. You can place my mirror near the Tutorial bunker. I wish to see if that dissuades them. If it does, that will tell us two things: They know of our plans, and they have discovered our plans post-hoc and must adjust their strategy accordingly, whether out of fear for the Songbringer's Divinity or whatever other obstacle they face.”
Shiv went quiet—perturbed by how Veronica seemed to be reading his mind.
She breathed out through her nostrils. “Oh, come now, it’s not that hard to predict what you’re thinking about. You’re applying known deterrents that have affected the Faceless Queen against the Old Ones. If they are dissuaded in a similar fashion, then that hints at a shared origin between her abilities and theirs. And that Divinity might be the most reliable way to halt both their operations.”
“Which means that Adam’s Zone of Absolute Dominion might be a workable strategy as well,” the Harbinger contemplated.
“But you must make everything you do seem natural,” Anthony stressed. “At no point can they suspect that you know of their presence, lest they cut their losses and sink back into the darkness.”
“I do not think that will be the case with Shiv,” Veronica said. “Whatever the Forbidden Empire’s goals were when it came to our Republic remains a mystery, but there are only so many possibilities when it comes to him. And applying what else we know about the Forbidden Empire, and if the Queen’s words are to be believed—at least in part—they are trying to engineer an alliance and break out from their isolationist stance.” Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Just in time for the impending Incursion.”
“I'll do things as quietly as I can,” Shiv began, “but I might need to call on you, both of you. This concerns all of us, because if the Forbidden Empire can sink their teeth deep enough into my Gate, if they can start manipulating things inside the Composer's realm, when she is practically an isolationist herself—”
Veronica interrupted him with a scoff. “You don't need to persuade me here. I understand the dangers posed by an unknown enemy. What we cannot control, what we do not know, are all things that will prove fatal for our civilization as well. If you need any hint or any manner of assistance, we will provide—within reason. And whatever the case, it will be invaluable to learn more about the oldest empire on Integrated Earth and how they have defied the System's will for so long.”
Shiv saw the avarice in her then: an urge to counter and claim control over the Forbidden Empire. It was more than intuition. It was simply the trajectory and shape of her character. Yellowstone yearned to dominate—to be the player behind all the pieces—and for them to be on a smaller board was unacceptable, at least for Veronica. He had drawn her into the game, and that would be both to his benefit and detriment.
But she knew a bigger board was at play, and he was familiar with at least two of its key players. Both the Usurper-Narrator and John Perduveral had their own sources of information, and Shiv would leave no stone unturned to prepare for this impending attack.
***
“Fucking core,” Produrveral hissed. “Still up to their same bullshit. Still trying to enslave everyone to what’s left of their broken nanny-god.”
Back in the Farwalker outpost within the Stranger's Garden, Shiv had informed Produveral about everything that had transpired. The mere mention of the Forbidden Empire ruined the man’s mood, and he promptly went on a rant as to how the System should have let the periphery stay long enough to finish things out, instead of sparing the bastard children of the Core.
“You said Anthony de Diego showed you a vial of nanites? Were they still functional?”
“No idea if they were functional,” Shiv admitted. “But it was swirling around inside the glass and had a patch of painful absence leaking out from it, the same as irradiated areas.”
“Then it's still functional. Good Christ. Should’ve let us kill them all, System. But no, you can't let a good conflict go to waste. No wars can ever end.” Produveral kept his tone in check, but his emotional core screamed of trembling violence. “Okay, look. I can't provide you with a peek of what's happening within the Forbidden Empire. If the fuckers have something going for them, it's that patch of nothing that surrounds them. Africa isn't just forbidden territory for you or the Republic; it is for all of Integration. It's effectively a magical dead zone. And that applies to me as well.”
“So, no intelligence on your end or Chorus?” Shiv asked.
“I didn't say that. I just said I couldn't peek inside. They have a bunch of people moving beyond the dead zones, however, so what I can do is watch for and anticipate whoever they're planning to turn and use as an operative against your Gate. I can see that, at least.” Produrveral's mechanical eyes shifted, glyphs and pieces sliding over each other as he turned his attention upward. "Also, they're moving quite a few satellites into place. Some of them are armed. Old kinetic harpoons—shit, they’re planning another run on New Albion.”
“Why’s that?” Shiv asked. “Does it have something to do with the Queen?”
“Hm?” Produrveral said, losing his train of focus the moment the Queen was referenced. "Yeah, they're planning to fire a shot at New Albion. They did a lot of orbital bombardments during the last war, but it wasn't enough to crack the island, and it won't be this time either. Not with how most of the cities are actually underground.”
That was news to Shiv. Perhaps it might be news to anyone. He kept that in the back of his mind for now. “But does it have something to do with the Stolen Throne or the Faceless Queen?” Shiv asked again.
“Huh?” The disk of flowing thought that embodied Produrveral's mind skipped once more. He repeated what he said a half-second ago, and Shiv gave up on this chain of dialogue.
Whatever bullshit powers the Queen had, the hold she had on the people beyond the confines of Integrated Earth seemed to be absolute. It didn't matter if they were Legends or Myths—no one at the outpost could fully recall or even talk about the Faceless Queen without losing hold of their own awareness.
But the Fairwoods were technically a nexus of all realities rather than a higher segment with the greater mass where the ascendant dimensions were melded into one. Time to speak with her, then. Gods, I hope she has something to make this worth it.
***
“It’s still RAW!” Terrence bellowed at Shiv, primal panic overtaking the Tarrasque as the hour of judgment drew nigh. “COOK FASTER! COOK FASTER!”
“What does it look like I’m doing, you fucking shit!” Shiv snarled. “Stop ordering me and knead the dough faster; you’re just bunching it up in your hands like clay and shit! Focus on your shit, not mine!”
“WOULD IF YOU WEREN’T SLOW!” Terrence shot back in outrage. “TRYING TO HELP! ALL YOU DO IS GET MAD! ALL YOU DO IS GET MAD AND BE SLOW!”
“I’M NOT MAD, MOTHERFUCKER! I’M JUST ANNOYED BECAUSE SOMEONE KEEPS DISTRACTING ME! KNEAD! THE FUCKING! DOUGH!”
Shiv’s Severed Shadow entered the chaos while his Fairwoods Trueclone continued down the path of unending suffering. Eruptions of Nihilistic flame erupted across the land, arcing through the air like curving volcanic debris to splash down and heat the crust of crusts. Within the reclaimed Boiling Toad, twin chefs worked tirelessly to make up for the absence of the vaunted Ser Cuntus and his kingdom of commis-slaves.
On today’s menu was an atrocity of aesthetic and delicacy. Princess Plum Blossom demanded a pizza with pineapples fried into its bread while dotted with columns of tomato-sauced Tarrasque and man-flesh sausages, and thus the two Undying Pathbearers served both as chef and ingredient unto themselves. The challenge was immense—the time was nigh; at any moment, the Faebread guards would arrive to take the dish away, and if they weren’t done by the time Toasty and the rest of his chodes got there, they would suffer another court session with Pologian—First Son of the Summer Court.
First Son, Mythic-Tier Pathbearer, and insufferable dandy whose idea of punishment was making someone put on the unspeakable hand-crafted horrors he considered clothes.
The Tarrasque had already suffered such a bleak fate once—the chef’s ensemble the titanic Endhound wore was made from the same material as diapers, while Shiv’s hat was a ball of constant self-repairing cotton. Cotton that was made from living lambs. Living lambs that howled, brayed, and screamed every time the slightest bit of fire got near them. The resulting cacophony was ceaseless and miserable; the chaos was without end.
Somehow, the Boiling Toad had been quieter when it was filled with tormented slaves.
That didn’t change with his Severed Shadow’s entrance. He was risking a great deal exposing the fundamental incarnation of his soul to Evanescia like this, but with the Forbidden Empire in play, he needed to utilize as much esoteric bullshit as he had on his end as well—and there was almost no one more esoteric and bullshit-shaped than the patron goddess of the Fairwoods.
“Evanescia!” Shiv called out, trying not to focus on how the other parallel instance of his consciousness was suffering. “Evanescia! I got a bit of a problem—something bad enough to affect my escape attempts here—”
She appeared behind him in an instant. Time within the Fairwoods halted. Shiv gagged as he felt part of his mind tear with one of his many selves being separated from all the others. Well, this is going to cause a mass seizure event when time resumes.
“What? Who dares interrupt our struggle?” Evanescia’s featureless silhouette stepped close to examine Shiv. She picked his Severed Shadow up and spun him around as if he were more blow-up doll than intangible Revenant. “And so threatening they sent you to me as your truest self.” She went from startled to fuming in an instant. “Are they trying to steal my place as heroic antagonist?”
“Worse,” Shiv replied. “They’re trying to ally with me—and that means they might try to ruin things for you.”
Evanescia threw her head back and laughed. The world was a wrinkled page mottled by time, and the vulgar, overwhelming touch of her power tainted the fabric of reality itself. “Well, that would be very foolish of them. I told you before, Shiv, whoever dares enter my realm—”
“Has anyone from the Forbidden Empire of Earth entered your realm before?” he asked.
The parchment representing existence crumpled; Shiv felt his spectral body bend and warp in unnatural ways. He would describe the agony as incomprehensible, but by this point, he was well acquainted with all kinds of pain, and thus barely reacted beyond a slight grunt of surprise. “Ow. I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I have told the Dulled Ones something before: If they spill their filth in my air, in my waters, into my story, I will bless them with a new rain upon the land they stole. What do they intend?” Shiv injected a dose of memories over into Evanescia’s mind, and silence gripped her for the following seconds. “On second thought, this feels kind of like a political thriller! I think I want to see how this plays out…”
Her sudden switch in emotion and intention gave Shiv ontological brain damage. “Evanescia… I mean… Come on.”
“We should have anticipated her fickleness,” the Harbinger admitted.
Nihilist: When you are all-powerful and beyond the reach of consequence, nothing matters, and you stop caring about consequences to others. It is the way it is.
Evanescia slung her arm around his shoulders and gestured outward, as if showing him a beautiful landscape. “Think of it like this: You face a new and exciting set of circumstances! You don’t even fully know what they want yet! The Deathless—a devastating Pathbearer more akin to a natural disaster than a man—finds himself embroiled deep in overlapping conspiracies between multiple rival nations. And with the situation beyond his ability to solve with physical violence, he must rely on his budding charisma and growing cunning to prevail—or risk the incomprehensible enslavement or eradication of his home!”
“Yeah, that’s fun-sounding and all, but I’m going to have to deal with that, Evanescia!” Shiv stressed. “And it might interrupt—”
“No. There’s a version of you here.” She pointed at his frozen counterpart, enshadowed in the fiery distance. The small clone of Shiv channeled an ocean of scintillating flame while standing atop the head of the Tarrasque as a literal mountain of dough before them bulged and burst while Terrence ground pineapples into the softness and the world around them raged. “Our arrangement can continue here while I also watch you dramatically battle over on the other side! Actually, we can put a temporary pause on this season, and I’ll have you give me a direct telepathic broadcast of what’s happening! Yeah! You should do that!”
Shiv winced. Fuccccckkk, why did I ever think coming here was a good idea!
“Sure… we can… think about it, Evanescia. I’ll let things play out a bit more. But, uh, if everything goes south, you’re fine with the last-ditch deal, right?”
“Oh, the one where you let all your people flee into my Fairwoods? Of course! But they’ll be part of the story too, and you know what that means!”
“Perhaps death might be a kinder fate for most,” the Harbinger considered. “An eternity here as Evanescia’s minstrel is… is… unkind of a fate.”
With a snap of her fingers, time—and existence itself—resumed its flow. The weathered page crusted over existence broke as the Pyromancy raged; pockets of bulging dough popped with thunderous echoes as oozing golden essence came spilling out, bringing with it a diabetic sweetness choking the air.
“I’ll just—” Shiv’s thoughts were interrupted as a sudden telepathic message jolted through his mind.
“Shiv!” Uva cried. “Situation. Weave. Piety. Need you back. Now!”
“Shit, already? Godsdammit. I didn’t even get to—I’ll be back—”
“No! Shiv, the saboteurs collectively surrendered to Trapdoor. The Forbidden Empire’s in-Gate assets have revealed themselves as well. They’re asking for you by name and title. They want to talk with you—only you. They claim to have an offer that is beyond our ability to refuse.”
Now, the same overwhelming silence that overcame Evanescia as she listened in reverberated within Shiv. His mind was thoughtless as he tried to catch up with everything that was happening. If there was a game being played on a metaphorical board, it was moving far, far faster than he could keep up with.
“Well, Deathless,” Evanescia said as she released her hold on him. “It’s time for you to enter the jaws of a new beast—oh, this is so exciting. I never saw you as a spy-thriller character before, but now I can really, really feel it. Go, go!” She pushed him forward, almost sending him stumbling. “See what other twist is coming up next!”
Shiv’s Dryad of Lies let out an exhausted sob. “Tired…”
Harbinger of Tripartite Ruin 450 > 453