We have lost control of Weave. Unanticipated enemy presence has altered the battlefield. [84.123% Chance That Udraal Thann is Unconfirmed Enemy Operant]
Mission Objectives Altered: Engage with the Deathless through direct diplomacy. Secure access to Gate Piety. Create conditions to ensure civilization representation. Convince the Favored Three of our agenda. Turn them against the Stolen Throne at all costs.
—Orders received by Mayfly Id-Spy: “Don’t Fear The Reaper”
VIII-17
Players Beyond the Board
In the seconds it took for Shiv to return, Adam had already put the Forbidden Empire’s agents to his all-knowing flame. His immolating glare lit twelve different automata as if they were made of dry wood and not metal. Disconcertingly, they were sourced from several different civilizations, linked to no common origin, and had arrived at different times. Furthermore, they had personal histories, ones that could be proven and accounted for, including relationships connected to other known Pathbearers. They weren't shell identities used by Aviary. They were their own people—until now.
Now, it was hard to say what they were.
Gate Piety security secured the compromised agents and moved them to Farnest, where they were interned at the bottom of the dimensional prisons, each one isolated in their own personal spatial bubble. There was no resistance on their part. No protests or even signs of discomfort. Unnervingly, they shared a similar set of behaviors. It was like their personalities had been wiped clean, replaced by something economical and perfectly passive. They walked when ordered to; they complied when pulled along; and when they were sealed in the dark, they simply stared ahead, doing nothing to resist any manner of probing or investigation applied to their persons.
The lowest level of the Farnest Dimensional Dungeon was built in layers, the cells slotted into the walls, while the center of the room was occupied by a set of rails and a mana elevator that could bring security up and down in an instant, while also sealing any potential escape attempts. The underside of the platform was inscribed with powerful counterspells and Dimensionality spellwork
Upward, the rest of the prison seemed like a hollow tower; however, there were three other moving platforms that ensured containment even if the prisoners mounted some kind of successful escape or captured portions of the dungeon.
By the time Shiv reached the dungeon, he found Uva, Adam, Valor, Still Water, and fifty other counter-intelligence personnel gathered across a series of stations. Diviners and Investigators alike stepped in and out of these dimensional cells. They took samples and statements, reinforced wards, and listed down critical details concerning the prisoners' Paths, Skills, Tiers, and physical models.
If there was one point of commonality among all the Forbidden Empire's agents, it was that not a single one of them possessed a Martial Skill or an implanted weapon. Neither did they ever express any explicit desire to enter a martial profession in their past lives, nor at any point in their recent history. Effectively, they were all logistical, bureaucratic, and otherwise peaceful personnel that suddenly activated and found themselves dedicated to a foreign cause.
At the center of a room, a series of strange mechanisms lay, unscrewed and dismantled. Small pieces and components were neatly spread out atop a violet carpet of Divination mana. Among the many pieces were strange cylinders, with some kind of chamber separating the two halves. According to Uva, they were some kinds of piston mechanisms—portable core parts of fission weapons. The way they worked, from what Shiv could understand—and he understood very little about pre-System technology—was as follows: one part was an enriched fissile material, effectively like Necromancy mana. The other part, meanwhile, was something that would trigger a critical state chain reaction upon encountering a piece of uranium or plutonium.
I guess that makes the other half kinda like me. The moment Necromancy mana slams against me without any magical resistance, a big bang goes off. Good news is that these pocket nukes deliver smaller bangs. Bad news is that, apparently, they have a lot of them, and there might be more we haven't found stashed around the Gate.
In the corner of Shiv's eye, he could see Adam fuming. The mists that surrounded him were dense with frustration.
“These ones all we got?” Shiv asked, coming to a stop at the center of the room.
“The only ones that surrendered themselves to us,” Adam nearly growled. “I should have known. I should have looked deeper into them. Something about them felt strange: the mechanisms, the noise their inner hydraulics made. It was like they were carrying excess weight or unnatural mechanisms that didn't fit with the rest of their machinery.”
He struggled with himself, forcing calm while he wanted to rage. “The worst part is, their bodies didn't sound like that when they first entered the Gate. I'm trying to recall now, and I think that they were lighter then. I think that they were more stable. These pocket nuclear devices, they were assembled within the Gate. They were installed and hidden in the aftermath of my Delve. This was all done to counteract my capabilities. They knew. They prepared in advance. And they can still build more. All it takes is the right application of Geomancy and understanding to create another one of these devices.”
“My spiderlings and Terrorspawn are sweeping across the city,” Uva said. Her tendrils of lightning crawled out from her mind, spreading like an explosive web. Yet it gave off no sound of thunder, nor did it disturb the air. It was an uncanny thing how powerful and dense her mana could be, yet how subtle it was in terms of construction and infiltration. She was scouring across countless minds, trying to sift through all known Geomancers to anticipate other potential risk entities. “If we need to, I can enforce a lockdown at any time.”
For a moment, Adam genuinely considered it, if only out of spite. The intrusion was offense enough. The possibility that someone might blast open the center-most portion of his Gate, exposing the bunker and allowing the orcs to spill over, was real—but it was more than that. The people of Blackedge would be within the blast radius, and with most of them being Initiates and Adepts at most, the casualties would have been unspeakable, perhaps total. It would have been a complete extermination event for the few remaining survivors left over from Adam's hometown.
And then there was the Perch itself. It was powerful and reinforced against all manner of attacks, but these warheads defied the nature of mana. They rejected magic. They were dead, hollow things and carried with them a dead, hollow weight when it came to destruction. There was no guarantee that the Perch would survive the blast unscathed.
“No,” Adam finally managed. “They exposed themselves to us for a reason. They want Shiv. We do not overcommit. We do not over-exaggerate. We will not be provoked.” His remaining eye snapped to Shiv, and for whatever reason, the azure band given by the System grew tighter upon his head; his brow creased, not only with strain but also with resolve. “Shiv, they're playing with us. They want you. If I were to guess, and I usually guess right, they're going to try to subvert you. They're going to use us against New Albion. We're being played against multiple powers, as we've played multiple powers before.”
“That'd be my guess as well,” Shiv replied, folding his arms. His Continuity Error Skill trembled, and beyond context, he felt the girl that didn't exist pointing in the direction of one of the cells. He knew which way he had to go now. “That one there, third cell to my right. Who's the prisoner?”
“It goes by Bismuth,” Uva replied immediately. “A mining automaton, having done freelance work for the Fortress-City Diego Surveyor Corps. It claimed to have been manufactured fifty-six years ago in an automata colony south of Yellowstone’s capital. I secured a set of memories from its friends and an adopted brother, a surfacer elf known as Coalson.”
Shiv tried to stop himself from doing a double-take, but failed. “Coalson? Really? Spelled that way? Seriously?”
She tried not to visibly cringe. “Apparently, Bismuth's maker was someone who enjoyed wordplay.”
“Yeah, well, if they're still alive, I hope they got another hobby 'cause these names are killing me. Are we sure that this elf is a real person, by the way?”
“As far as my memory scan goes, yes, all too real. There is the potential that he possesses an entire lifetime of fabricated memories, but to construct such a fabrication requires Psychomancy and psychological understanding on such a fine and overarching level that it is beyond even most Legends. Perhaps if a concert of elite Psychomancers were working together, but even then…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Highly unlikely. It would be extremely difficult for me to create fifty years of vivid and deep memories, even with Legend Hymn’s aid.”
“But the Forbidden Empire might not be playing by the same rules,” Shiv said.
The three of them looked at the dimensional cell. A layer of black static was further coated by rings of concentric gold, each one stacked over the other, preventing the prisoner within from bursting out using raw magical might. A Legend of Chronomancy might be able to overwhelm the defenses, but the protective spell would endure long enough to signal the defenders about the transpiring escape.
And according to the information Uva gathered, Bismuth was not a Chronomancer of any kind at any Tier.
“You intend to speak with them?” Adam asked, his unease spilling over, not from his voice but from his emotional core. There was a budding dread that stained the room, a dread that was a low note, like the ambient chitter of distant crickets.
“I think I'm going to have to,” Shiv said. “The Forbidden Empire is an isolationist nation. They don't just break from that tradition for nothing. They came looking for me, so they got a goal. I agree with what you said earlier, but I think there's something more as well. The Incursion's coming our way. Veronica and Anthony said something about that. Produveral offered to help scout out the Empire’s agents—and he's recommending that we just kill all the prisoners. He says it's better if I just keep doing suicide run after suicide run on Africa until I smash my way in and finally put an end to the mistake of the Core’s continued existence.”
“How very wrathful,” Uva commented dryly.
“Like how an Umbral might feel about a vampire,” Shiv shot back. “Old history. Shared mythology and all that ugly shit. Nothing’s ever forgiven.”
She pressed her lips together. “Point received.”
“I wanna speak to the prisoner regardless. Figure out what they want, what they're trying to do. Maybe I'll get an understanding of how they operate or how they managed to turn Bismuth, if Bismuth is a real person at all. Besides that, maybe we'll be able to get some other useful bits of information out of them. Like why the hells they keep going after New Albion. And if they know anything about the Faceless Queen.”
“She's really rubbing off on you, isn't she?” Adam grimaced. “Always looking for another advantage, another angle.”
“She's part of the reason why I'm doing this. The Forbidden Empire is a player beyond the board, while we're still stuck on it. I can't get a good view of it, but maybe if I manage to steal enough glimpses from the perspectives of the actual players, I can see the other ones. Figure out just what they're going for and why. Once I have all the pieces, maybe I can take myself off the board and onto the actual battlefield.” Shiv scratched his chin scruff in contemplation. “It's not just the Forbidden Empire. As you said before, everyone's trying to use us. And it won't get better once the Incursion hits, because then we'll have to deal with Chorus. From what Perduveral says, it's even more of a shitshow upstairs. Better get our practice in now.”
“What a heartening thought,” Adam sneered.
Shiv smirked and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Adam; things can always get worse, so keep a bit of that misery in reserve. On that note, I think it's time for me to take a walk in the dark and try to make friends with a new batch of assholes.”
***
The insides of the dimensional cell were two meters by two meters, not a lot of space, but this place wasn't meant to hold anyone for an overlong period. Gate Piety had a very strict policy for anything that disrupted economic and political sovereignty. In simple terms, if you tried to take a run at the Favored Three, you'd be killed, usually by the Favored Three themselves. The same applied to anyone who tried to damage the socio-economic position of Gate Piety in conjunction with their partners and any alliances they intended to build. And that was only if Valor didn't get to you first. For all other matters of disruption or disorderly conduct, a few nights in a cell or enforced exile were the most common solutions.
Due to those factors and the fact that Pathbearers of even Low Tiers didn't have much of a need for food or water, there wasn't a need for long-term utilities and facilities within the prison. There was a small desk in the cell, space for a cot that was replaced by a charging station for bots, and a mirror planted against the ceiling. Aside from that, a book regarding the legal frameworks of responsible behavior within high-trust societies was offered as leisurely reading.
Bismuth itself wasn't a particularly large automaton. It stood a little less than a meter and a half in terms of height, and its torso was the shape of a thin barrel, while its limbs were many and thin, like a mess of mechanical tentacles that pushed it around. The center mass of its body was lined with countless crenellations, doubtless for the powered laser drill within to unfurl and project itself.
Powering the laser drill was not a thing of dead technology, but rather an Adept-Tier Pyromancy Skill. Nothing meant for active combat, just fire channeled into a beam made to carve bits out of the earth's depths.
Yet, there was something wrong about the automaton's eyes. Bismuth's optics were a single vertical slit, gleaming a bright green. Though bots without humanoid faces naturally didn't share the same set of expressions with people made of flesh, they usually adopted similar body language, growing up among organic societies. If there was one thing to be obtained through cohabitation, it was symbiotic behaviors, actions, and responses that were stolen and assumed, no matter if you were made of metal or meat.
Bismuth didn't have any of that. Bismuth was absent when it came to the social, rather than the magical or the material. The longer Shiv stared at Bismuth, the more he felt like he was gazing into a blank canvas or some kind of abyss. That feeling of being in the dark, while something grand and great lurking in the deeper shadows still leered back, aware of him while he remained unaware of them, returned to the forefront of his mind.
Shiv shuffled into the cell, his body halfway between the dimensional threshold and the rest of the prison outside. They couldn't expand the room any further without collapsing the wards, and Shiv was fine with that. He was willing to suffer a bit of discomfort and awkwardness if it meant throwing off the Forbidden Empire. Everyone had expectations, and weird interrogations held a benefit all their own. Doubtless, after all the cold and rough prodding, Bismuth was probably expecting some hostility, but the first thing Shiv did was smile.
“So how'd you like the reading?” He waved a finger at the lone book placed in front of the automaton, and it slowly lowered its head. Its optical slit flashed once. It Analyzed the text, and it looked back up at him in silence as if processing information, waiting to acquire a response from somewhere else.
***
Back in Stranger's Garden, within the Farwalker outpost, Perduveral hissed at Shiv's local Trueclone. “There’s an Entanglement Command that just pulsed out from Africa. The bot’s getting commands from headquarters right now.”
“Thanks, John-Marion,” Shiv said. “Kinda got the feeling like I’m speaking to a puppet.”
***
“You are driven by a strong sense of irony and levity, are you?” Bismuth's voice sounded like a low groan of straining metal. The pitch and tone of its speech never changed, and the dullness of its dialogue was purely mechanical. Automata, though machine lifeforms, were not dead things. They weren't purely reactive, cold of feelings. This one was hollowed out. This one was just a mouthpiece, a voice processor for someone else to speak through.
“We get our kicks where we can,” Shiv said, shrugging. “You would too if the System was always out for you.” Then, in an act of semi-mockery, he brought a finger up against his lips. “Oh, but the System is out for you all the time, isn't it? After all, I would have to hate someone an awful lot to hide inside a dome and block off the rest of my world from ever spilling in. Must be a lonely existence on the other side. Real curious as to what that's like, how you guys live. Seems hard. Seems like you could use a little bit of levity yourself.”
“You understand so very little,” Bismuth said. “Least of all about what we need. But that is not why we are here. We did not reveal ourselves to ask for your aid. We revealed ourselves to lend you ours. We wish to speak about what you need.”
“Fascinating. They are going on the offensive. They are bidding themselves to us, offering services. This is a sale, and an aggressive one at that.” The Harbinger paused. “But there is also something desperate about their actions. Uva says they revealed themselves after their operations in Weave collapsed. There is an order of operations at play here. Perhaps the compromise forced their hand here, driving them to take overt diplomatic measures. Let them keep speaking. Listen more than you talk.”
Shiv made a circular motion with his finger, urging the automaton to continue.
“What has she offered you?” Bismuth asked. Shiv didn't have to guess who they were talking about. Immediately, he realized they were digging for information as well, or perhaps trying to confirm things. That meant they remained ignorant of the Queen's activities and her relationship with Shiv as well. Useful information. Right now, he had a three-way struggle taking shape in his mind. The Faceless Queen knew the most out of the three, yet struggled more against the Forbidden Empire and remained utterly ignorant when it came to Veronica's personal affairs. The Yellowstone Republic was at the greatest disadvantage when it came to the intelligence war, but the Ascendants and Veronica's special sanctuary offered them an unassailable point of secrecy against their supposed superiors. The Forbidden Empire was the least known across the board, yet it had clear limitations as well.
Limitations on display right now.
Limitations Shiv was set to explore some more.
He made a nonchalant popping noise with his lips. “Oh, you know, this and that, here and there, little bits of information from me in exchange for little bits of information from her. Gotta say, though, you didn't come up as a topic that much, but I know just enough about you to sour my opinion. I don't much like what you did to your former Penitents.”
“We are aware of your association with Can Hu.” Such was all Bismuth said before changing the topic. “Just as we are aware of a number of other things. You are reluctant to communicate with us. This is understandable. Let us make this trade economical. We will offer you a series of truths as an expression of goodwill.”
“And what do you want in return?” Shiv asked.
Bismuth just stared. “We do not want anything right now, not yet. You can decide at the end to heed our request, but we understand that it is your choice to make, and we will respect it as such. Yet we wish for you to simply listen and make your decision at the end rather than the start. Approach this conversation with an open mind.”
“Trust me, friend. There are few minds as open as mine.” Shiv laughed. “Well. Spit your pitch. Let’s hear it.”
The compromised automaton leaned back. “For one, this automaton, this Bismuth, remains alive. We have not nullified its critical processing functions, and we will relinquish control over its system and return its life as a display of mercy.”
“Well, isn't that nice of you? But I am sensing a little something here. I am feeling a tug of... Is that racism? You guys don't really think much about mechanical lifeforms, do you? You are using them specifically, which means you have a way into their system so you can compromise and control them easily. Can Hu told me about that. It has some kind of machine Psychomancy system. You probably have a stronger version of that. Before you tell me anything else, I'm curious about this. Are all your operatives machines?”
“No,” Bismuth said flatly. “It is simply the mechanical that is easy to subvert. The physical can be rebuilt and hijacked much in the same way, but the System remains an impediment. As our natural technology is poisoned by its animated narrative, so too does the opposite apply to the functions and fundamental forces that should define the universe.”
“Listen to their words: 'which should define the universe,' downplaying what they do to mechanical lifeforms.” The Harbinger scoffed. “The Forbidden Empire clings to a past that no longer exists, and they apply their traditions to the present, even in the face of a changing reality.”
“Additionally, we would like to confess something that might incur your displeasure. We were originally tasked with disrupting and exposing Weave and Gate Piety to their enemies before arriving and supplementing your military might in your hours of need.” Bismuth lowered its head. The action was so pre-planned and awkward that Shiv frowned with incredulity. So far, the Forbidden Empire's agent wasn't exactly behaving like a spy with high Social Skills. The dialogue was more awkward than it was enlightening as well. “We understand that you might view such actions as duplicitous and forceful, but it is our understanding that you were allied with both the Stolen Throne and the Councilwoman.”
Shiv almost cocked his head at that. They didn't refer to the Faceless Queen as an individual. Instead, they referenced the Stolen Throne specifically. They did the opposite for Veronica. The totality of the Yellowstone Republic was left by the wayside, but her title, her exact position, was invoked with enough gravitas that it veered toward the edge of actual fear. If not fear, then respect.
Which means there's probably something she's not telling me, judging from how traumatized Anthony felt after his failed attempt to trace the Forbidden Empire back to their homeland. Something she isn't telling him either. System, I love politics.
“Furthermore, we were uncertain how closely your alignments were with the Stolen Throne, with Yellowstone, with He Who Walks Beyond.”
A rush of focus passed through Shiv as Udraal's title was invoked. “Why are we talking about Udraal right now?” he asked.
“He is associated with the Stolen Throne. The Faceless Queen is a partner to his schemes, or perhaps an asset? These things are unconfirmed. What is confirmed is that the Throne itself is under his influence, with there being a 14.39% chance that the entity known as the Faceless Queen, then, is one of his vessels.”
Though Shiv had mentally prepared himself for any outcome, that outrageous statement still felt like the world was falling on his head. Not that he hadn't imagined the Faceless Queen to be one of Udraal's vessels during a paranoid exercise. He did that with everyone, even Adam and Uva, but at some point, he disregarded the practice because, with confirmations impossible to make, it was only an endeavor in anxiety and crippling paranoia.
If Udraal was everyone, then there was no stopping his schemes anyway. And with how uninterested he was in ever helping Gate Piety, Adam, Shiv, Uva, frankly, anyone in their time of need, it was clear he just wanted them to struggle. More than anything, he wanted Shiv to grow stronger. Aside from that, they might as well not have any relations at all.
“You got any proof of that?” Shiv asked. “Because we have an associate of Udraal here as well, and I can ask them personally. That might just make life easier for the both of us.”
“You are talking about the Educator, the Forgotten Artist, the Ascendant that committed divine suicide to protect her individual existence.” Bismuth rattled every detail like a boxer would set up a strike via repeated jabs.
“Alright, I admit, that's pretty impressive. Not a lot of people know all that.” Shiv eyed Bismuth. “What is the Stolen Throne? Answer me that. Why are you people so intent on destroying New Albion? What's with you and the Faceless Queen?”
Bismuth didn't reply immediately, and for the first time, the silence dragged. A few seconds turned to a whole minute, and Shiv began tapping his foot. Someone was clearly deliberating on how much they could or should reveal. In that deliberation, Shiv caught on to the Forbidden Empire's weakness. They really should have had someone with High Social Skills. This was proving to be easy. He wasn't learning everything he needed, but he was gauging their behavior. Whoever was speaking to him was clearly unaccustomed to individual dialogue and interactions. Everything was stiff and rough. The informational advantage was useful, but they also revealed what they didn't want their enemy to learn.
And when it came to mind games and politics, hinting at your weakness was an unforgivable act of self-betrayal.
Finally, after almost two minutes, Bismuth spoke up again. “New Albion possesses something that they should not. It is a risk to Integrated Earth; it is a risk to all the worlds beyond; it is something that belongs with us. This is all we will say with regard to the Stolen Throne at present. As for the Faceless Queen, she is anathema. She is not your ally; she is no one's ally; she must not be trusted and cannot be relied upon.”
Shiv nodded in response to Bismuth's nothing statement. “Oh, you know, I agree with most of that and am glad you're so forthcoming with all that information, but I'm not relying on her. We're making deals, striking accords, just like you're trying to sell yourself to me right now.”
He caught something within Bismuth then, a nigh-imperceptible pulse. He felt an empathetic core that was distant, yet so colossal, so overwhelming. A flood of alien emotion crashed into him, and a crackle of distant thoughts, miasmic and static, unnatural for a human mind to process, greeted him like interference in the background.
Whoever was compelling Bismuth to spit its words was watching him. Was agitated by him. Was desperate to bring this dialogue to an end.
Unfortunately for the Forbidden Empire, Shiv really liked speaking to people. “A little bit of a rougher question: Why should Gate Piety let you leave a representative here? Why would we trust the Forbidden Empire after everything you admitted to doing? Yeah, New Albion isn't exactly popular, and they're old enemies as well, so don't take my question as a pointed one. We're here, willing to hear and deal with old enemies. New Albion was an old enemy; Yellowstone was an old enemy; hells, practically half the people walking through our Gate are old enemies. This place is a powder keg that just keeps getting held back from going off.
He splayed his fingers open. “You can come here. We're willing to play, but we want a reason to trust that you'll follow the rules. I'm gonna ask you directly: on top of all that you said, are you planning to assassinate the Faceless Queen while she comes here?”
Bismuth replied in an instant: “We have no intention of doing so, nor do we possess the capability at present. What we do intend, however, is to offer you essential information about the potential incursion to come.”
“Potential Incursion?” Shiv said, raising an eyebrow.
“Correct. The Incursion promised by the System is contingent on your continued survival. More than that, the Incursion you face has not yet been decided and will also be affected by how many skills you obtain and your eventual status as a Pathbearer when the timer of the Quest hits zero. Furthermore, it will be affected by whether you ascend alone and whether or not you create your Coalition Against the End, as was your stated intention during the months prior.”
Shiv hummed, once again noting the impressive intel but tendency to overshare on critical info. “Well, you had my interest before, but now you got my curiosity. Tell me about one of these potential Incursions. Let's hear it, because I want to know how bad things can get once Earth gets to the next ambient mana threshold.”
A low whine spilled out of Bismuth. “The most likely outcome at present is a rendezvous.”
“Rendezvous?” Shiv asked, thrown off by the term.
“Between the Stolen Throne and the rest of Avalon. A fragment will be reunited with its homeland. The Faceless Queen will cease to be as the wholeness of her origin will devour its stray limb, and the complete assimilation of every living being on Integrated Earth will commence, starting from the dreaming god.”
Shiv frowned. “The Dreamtaker?”
“Incorrect,” Bismuth said. “But it is connected to your actions and her manifestation. The Great One dreams through the eyes of the reborn Ascendant. It is overflowing with these dreams, and when this delirium grows beyond its capacity to bear, it will stir, and civilizations will die. But even that living apocalypse will pale before the weapon that struck it down to begin with.”
“And this Incursion is going to bring in that weapon?”
Bismuth leaned forward slightly. “A different metaphor for you: The Faceless Queen and the Stolen Throne were the original bullets of godslaying calamity, whereas the Incursion will likely see us share a space with the loaded gun that fired them. And the very first person this metaphorical gun will shoot in such an outcome will be you—followed by us. Hence, we stand on the same side—inevitably and unwillingly.”