A few days had passed since the arrival of the one the interface had called the [Visitor]. The problem now was that the location of the [Visitor] hadn’t been up for long before it had simply popped into nonexistence.
Following the coordinates had brought Chetam to Tatelat. And while he knew that Fallen High was the exact location that he was looking for, he couldn’t just walk into the school and begin making demands. He didn’t even know what the [Visitor] was supposed to look like. And being a school that prided itself in raising future Delvers, there were always a few students walking around with different kinds of familiars.
That’s if the [Visitor] is a friend.
With a frustrated sigh, he took a sip of the drink in front of him. It was something alcoholic, but only alcoholic enough for him to taste the alcohol. He raised the glass and looked at it. He was drinking something that was a hundred percent alcohol as if he was drinking some carbonated drink. He missed being young and capable of having an easy buzz.
A woman walked up to the table and asked if he would like something else. His answer was a polite shake of his head. Even the drink in his glass had only been ordered because he did not like waiting in places of business without patronizing them in some way or the other.
As she turned to live, his brain picked out a thing or two. A cup of water here. A stain on the ground there. A chair with uneven legs. He knew without having to think about it that the woman was going to bump into the door.
He returned his attention to his glass just moments before he heard a thump and a loud grunt of pain.
Inevitability, he thought.
The Oath was no stranger to him. Why would it be when he embodied the very essence of it. What bothered him was how dealing with Madness had made him realize more things about the Oath. The problem was that if he was understanding things about Madness now, it meant that Madness already understood those things. When it came to Madness, all the Oaths were playing catch up, and they were leagues behind him.
The other Oaths, however, were simple enough concepts. Language, Grace, Pain, Desolation. They had some depths to them but he doubted they could possess a philosophical standpoint. Not like Madness where madness could be anything.
Chetam placed the glass cup down and twirled his index finger around the rim of the cup. Inevitability was much unlike the other Oaths. And a part of him hoped that the other Oaths had not figured that out. Inevitability, in and of itself, was not a real thing. Pain was real. Madness was real. Grace was real.
Inevitability was a concept made up by humans to feel some sort of peace, some level of safety.
People created the concept of inevitability so that they did not have to worry too much. Interestingly enough, inevitability was a concept that mostly came up in religious settings. Nothing, Chetam had always believed, was truly Inevitable. People spoke with each other every day, and thus language was born. People ran mad, and thus madness was born. People felt pain, and thus pain was born. People liked others enough to forgive them no matter what, and thus grace was born.
People are afraid of things every day, and thus fear was born.
So, it begged the question, was Inevitability just some offshoot of fear? He had asked himself that question once upon a time and had chosen no to be the answer. People did not create the Inevitable because they were simply afraid. And yes, there were Inevitables, death was one. Perhaps it was the only inevitable humans truly knew.
But there was also the delusion that religion had created where they invented the inevitability of karma. That punishment was inevitable. It was designed to scare people away from evil and appease those without power that have had evil be done to them.
Chetam picked up his glass cup and took another sip. There’s also the inevitability of a reward in the afterlife.
He chuckled darkly. In truth, he had always believed the idea of a life after death to be nothing but the greed of humanity, a refusal to end. Humans always wanted more, and what was the greatest level of want than the want for more life, more life lived in enjoyment and satisfaction. Then there was the need to appease their fear of ending. They did not want to end. They could not fathom the idea of simply ceasing to exist just as easily as they could not fathom the idea of not existing.
So what did that make the very concept of Inevitability?
It made it all encompassing.
It made it peace.
It made it…
“A fucking delusion,” he muttered, downing the rest of the content of his cup in one go.
That was what Inevitability was. The delusion of mankind. The only true Inevitability was that everyone must die. But even that was an inevitability due to human weakness. Just because everyone had died it did not mean that everyone must die. Yes, normal humans must die, but not all humans must die… right?
If the Oath of Life was to be believed, it was possible to live for a time significantly longer than the known accepted time. If that was true, didn’t it lend leverage to the possibility that one could arguably live forever? The holy book of the Christians implied that a priest called Melchizedek would live forever, did it not?
Chetam pushed the glass cup away from him. If he pushed it over the table, would that not make its fall to the ground inevitable? Most would say yes, but they would be wrong. Why? Because he could catch it before it hit the ground.
It left one inevitable fact. Time. Time was inevitable.
So was he just an offshoot of time?
He pushed the cup. It hit the ground. It shattered.
A waitress turned to look at him, shocked by the broken cup.
“Sorry about that,” he said, raising his hand to get her attention. “That was my fault, just add the price of the cup to my tab and I’ll pay for it.”
Time or Inevitability. He drummed his fingers on the table. An unsure Oath.
He could almost laugh at himself. He wondered just how many people alive knew that the inevitable was not truly the inevitable. Things happened and only then was it inevitable. People created the inevitable for one of two reasons. Creating it helped them live with their fear of it. It helped them move beyond their fear, because you could not fear the unknown if it became known. It was easier to live life knowing that you would die than to live life not knowing if you would die.
Chetam sighed. All that thinking and I’ve learnt nothing knew.
“What’s an all powerful Oath doing sitting out looking so glum?”
Chetam raised his head to find Pain’s attention shift from him to the pieces of broken glass on the ground.
Pain nodded to it. “This your doing?”
“Yes,” Chetam answered.
Pain squinted at the mess on the ground, then at him. “Let me guess, you wanted to be sure you were still Inevitable. Something about the glass falling down being inevitable and it actually happening?”
Chetam adjusted on his chair, impressed. “Since when did Pain become so smart?”
“Not smart,” Pain said, taking the other free seat. “We just have something in common.”
“Which is?”
“Madness.”
Chetam paused. “I don’t get it.”
“Well, I met Madness quite recently,” Pain explained. “And I found out that you met him quite recently as well. Madness has the uncanny ability to make you wonder is all.”
“Oh.” Chetam could not disagree. “I’m supposed to fight him in antarctica in a few days.”
Pain winced. “That’s going to be tough. Let me give you a piece of advice—two actually. The first, you can’t win. Your defeat is inevitable.”
“Ha, ha,” Chetam dead panned. “And what’s the second?”
“Don’t let him touch you.”
Chetam’s brows furrowed. “It’s a fight, there’s going to be a lot of touching.”
“Then I guess my advice don’t matter.” Pain crossed his leg, winced in pain. “So why have you been blowing up my phone. Only reason I came is because I saw your text. You couldn’t just used the interface.”
Chetam shook his head. “Can’t. I’ll need permission from the [August Intruder] to do that.”
“Really?” Pain asked, surprised.
“Really. All my admin rights have been revoked. I can’t send a system message without approval from the [August Intruder].”
Pain’s expression changed a bit, enough to hold Chetam’s attention.
Chetam leaned forward a little. “Do you know something, Pain?”
“I know nothing.”
“So you didn’t get a notification about the [Visitor]?”
“Oh, I got that.”
“And?”
“And nothing.” Pain shrugged. “I was with my beneficiary when I got it. I couldn’t just leave the kid and go searching for this mysterious [Visitor].”
“Yes, you could,” Chetam disagreed. “They were both in the same vicinity. Fallen High.”
“I know. Different buildings, though. Also, I had to deal with Madness eventually.” Pain’s forehead wrinkled a bit in thought. “Did you know that Madness can teleport?”
Chetam’s mind picked up on something else. Why would he be at Fallen High? He doubted Madness was playing babysitter to the [August Intruder] at all times.
He got the notification, too, Chetam told himself, a bit disappointed that he’d even had to ask. The question was whether Madness had gone to check on what was happening or if he had gone to protect the [August Intruder] from the Oaths.
“Anyway,” Pain continued, “it makes me wonder what else he can do.”
Chetam blinked, brought back to the conversation. “Oh, yeah. Uhm, it’s not very surprising that Madness can teleport.”
“It’s not?”
“Nope.” Chetam shook his head. “He has the [Faker] class.”
Pain paused. “Oh. I take it you know all our classes.”
“Not all, but enough. I know yours, too, though.”
“Well, as long as he still operates like a normal [Faker], it shouldn’t be so bad.” Pain raised his hand and called on one of the waitresses. “Anyway, what are you still doing here? Isn’t there some Chaos Run problems you need to handle back home?”
“There is.” Chetam turned his attention to the street, to the cars and passersby. “But finding the [August Intruder] is far more important than it.”
Pain was already shaking his head. “I think that’s the wrong line of thought,” he said. “The [August Intruder]’s arrival is inevitable at this point. You of all people should know that.”
“I know,” Chetam frowned. “That’s why we need them or him.”
Pain’s brows furrowed. “Or him?”
“Something Madness said. He called the [August Intruder] him, but for all we know it could just be the madness talking.”
“Oh.” Pain blinked, then shook whatever thought he had away. “What I was trying to say is that the [August Intruder] will help us survive the apocalypse. For a moment I thought the portals appearing was the apocalypse, but the world is still very much intact, civilization hasn’t turned on its head.”
“But there are monsters living among us now.”
“True, but we are still not apocalypse level fucked. So don’t abandon what has to be done in search of the [August Intruder].” Pain paused, leaned in to look him in the eye as the waitress drew closer. “Do the work, hold the fort. Let there at least be a world for him to help.”
When the waitress arrived, he smiled at her and ordered a cup of tea. An actual cup of tea, hot and all.
“So don’t let it beat you up,” Pain continued when the woman was gone. “Madness and Aurora aren’t stupid, the [August Intruder] is also important to—ow!” He frowned. “Sorry, someone’s appendix just burst not too far away, took me by surprise. What was I saying?”
“Isn’t that kind of dangerous?” Chetam asked. “If you know where they are we can get them help.”
Pain chuckled a little. “An Oath caring deeply for someone that’s not an Oath. Isn’t that interesting. Anyway,” he turned and pointed at a building not too far away. “They are over there.”
Inevitability turned and the sign on the building let him know that it was a hospital. “Oh. I guess he’s in the best hands.”
“You know,” Pain mused. “Maybe this ability to care, true or false, is why we made you our unspoken leader.”
Inevitability shook his head, knowing it was not the reason.
“Madness made me the unspoken leader,” he said, still able to remember how it had happened.
Pain paused, thought about it. “Oh. I guess that’s true. You were the only one he agreed to answer and wasn’t hostile to for the longest time—apart from Aurora, of course.”
“And we figured that since he answered to me, everyone might as well give me a try,” Chetam finished. Then he sighed. “Do you ever wonder if he planned it all?”
“Who? Madness?”
Chetam nodded. “Wether it’s all just a trick and we’ve all been dancing in the palm of his hands for forever.”
Pain blinked, thought about it, pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve been coming to learn that madness is not the inability to think, it’s just not thinking the way we consider normal.” His eyes grew distant for a while, in that way eyes do when a person is lost in a memory. “What I sometimes wonder is if not thinking like us is an inability for him or simply a choice.”
The waitress brought his tea and Chetam’s check. Chetam made his payment but did not leave. He just sat there, lost in his own thoughts as Pain drank his tea.
“What happened to your beneficiary?” he asked Pain. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
Pain paused between sips. “He entered a portal during the whole portal chaos.”
“Oof,” Chetam winced. “I hope no PTSD. It can be the darndest thing.” He paused, something coming to mind. “Wait, Madness’ kid got lost in a portal at some point in time. Madness had to go get him. Do you think the kid’s fine?”
Pain shrugged. “Could be, but it won’t be their first time having issues. Remember the Player attack? I believe they got a therapist for the kids. Also, Madness went and got him out. My kid got out by himself.”
Chetam cocked an interested brow at the smug look on Pain’s face. “You know it’s not a competition between whose kid is better, right? I’m sure your kid will kick Madness’ ass.”
Pain bobbed his head from side to side. “Who knows. Being Madness’ kid can’t be…” his words trailed off into an uncomfortable frown. “I swear I feel like I’m supposed to know more on this subject but I just can’t put my finger on it.” He dropped his tea and leaned forward. “Have you ever met Madness’ kid before?”
“Nope.”
“And you don’t know anything about his family except the one kid and Aurora?”
“Nope.”
“And that’s not strange?”
Chetam gave him a pointed look. “How much would you like me to know about your family, Pain?”
Pain nodded. “Good point. Anyway, my kid’s good, just a few scratches here and there. I think I’ll be flying back home tomorrow. What about you?”
“I’ll probably stay a bit.” Chetam let out a relaxed breath. “I left Shield in charge of my duties until I get back. I just can’t let this go. I keep getting a feeling that I should wait a little longer, that something’s going to happen.”
Pain let out a low whistle. “Not something I would like to hear from the Oath of Inevitability, but I guess it is what it is.”
They lulled back into a comfortable silence. Pain sipped at his tea and Chetam thought about what Pain had speculated on. It begged a question. If Madness had the option of thinking like his version of madness or thinking like normal people and had chosen the way he thought, what did it say about the way normal people thought that he chose to turn his back on it?