Split

Split

“Wait, what the hell was that just now? That other thing you did, the thing where you made us all forget who you were for a second? How the hell did that affect me?”

Shiv's surprise exit from context threw both Produveral and Evanescia for a loop, and then caused their emotions to skip a beat when he suddenly returned, snatched Uva, Adam, and the Culturist along with that strange eldritch egg remaining of Longinus, before chucking them all inside his returned cape and swapping his Revenant form with the physical vessel he had back in the Tutorial.

In any other situation, the Farwalker or the Usurper-Narrator would have stopped him in an instant. In any other situation, Shiv's Reflexes would have been found wanting. But in this situation, when he went missing from reality and everyone's memories before returning to context a moment later, it was such an unnatural surprise that it left both his mighty adversaries reeling.

That bought him a second. Just the one. More than enough to see his scheme through.

Scheming Bastard

A long, low wheeze escaped Shiv, but it did nothing to wipe away the triumphant expression on his face. “Look. You can… Neither of you can blame me for just… stealing the moment. Kind of had to if I wanted to make my own choice.” But Shiv wasn’t done. Before anyone could voice their displeasure, he pushed on. “Doesn’t mean we can’t keep this going. I made you a promise, Evanescia… And I might not have liked how you snatched and stuck me in your season, but the Fairwoods themselves? Our little throwdown? Yeah, that’s still on.”

Evanescia paused before she could raise any protestations about him playing unfair.

“Changed, but still there. Yeah, I got my companions out with my Revenant. But that’s just your setback. There's no drama if a hero doesn’t suffer a setback, right? Sets me up to be an actual threat of some kind, even if I don’t have your power. Way I see it, this is the only thing that can make the tension real. Besides, now you got a reason to go after me for revenge and trap me in a loop for taking advantage of you and him.”

“Sneaky,” Produveral muttered. It pleased and surprised Shiv to see the Myth devoid of anger; he might not have had the best Social Skills, but his emotions and psychological stability were the calmest Shiv had ever beheld. Which might explain why his Social Skills were that low. He didn't need to process so many things without significant trauma, and if he was always a flatter personality, that meant he didn’t have many vulnerabilities either. “Someone back in Centauri is going to get it from me when I get back. But Deathless, this doesn’t mean my mission’s off. Just means that I have to get a little more tricky—and intrusive—when it comes to recovering you.”

“Chorus doesn’t take for an answer, huh?” Shiv chuckled. His words strummed the Farwalker’s emotional core and played a song of slightest shame. “Well. I’ll tell you what: you explain more of why I need to have my skill ‘adjusted’ and maybe fill me in on Old Earth history and whatever the hells is happening out in greater Integration. I’ll save you the cat-and-mouse game shit and send one of my physical bodies to head off with you.”

For the second time, Produveral was caught off-guard. “Just like that? You escaped, and now you’re surrendering?”

Shiv felt a growing magnetism from both him and Evanescia. The Rhetoric Skill Evolution may be Adept-Tier, but hells, it was good for showing him when someone was captured by his words.

“Nah. Not surrendering. But I know a few things.” Shiv held up his hand and extended his first finger. “You're both powerful Pathbearers—and I’ve been pushing my luck something ugly right now. My Harbinger’s busted, but it’s still giving me enough charm to keep either of you from being too pissed. Now, part of that is me staying to talk with you so this whole deception thing is halfway, but we all know it’s more than that. And since I manage to pull one over on the both you…”

Shiv paused. He thought about his words and how he wanted to portray himself.

the Harbinger whispered.

The Harbinger considered his words.

Shiv chuckled internally.

the Harbinger replied.

That understanding came with a slight hit of sourness as Shiv realized he was getting a little too close to Veronica—

He grunted as several bones inside him snapped into fragments at the self-pointed insult.

the Harbinger hissed.

“Sorry,” Shiv said, hacking up a bit of blood.

Produrveral cocked his head. “Harbinger turning on you?”

“More like I accidentally stabbed myself,” Shiv grunted. “It’s fine. Happens. I’ll live. Or not. Just have to come back if that happens. Anyway. The problem here is… trust and fear, you know. I’ve been around long enough to know when someone’s got my number. Comes with a feeling.”

Evanescia asked.

“Yeah. Looking at either of you sends pulses of unspeakable pain rippling through my assfolds,” Shiv admitted. Produveral and Evanescia exchanged a look. “Consequence of getting into a brawl with someone I can’t beat. Yet. So, I’m done with the whole pointless defiance thing. Especially if it brings me nothing but pain. But you got my profile, right? You know how I grew up?”

Produveral nodded. “Orphan. Blackedge. Conditional, highly sociopathic behavior. Generally moral if you can help it—and especially influenced by virtuous behavior in others. But also spiteful, vicious, and with a capacity for extreme violence without any trauma sticking.”

“Hm. Sounds about right.” Shiv processed the quick summary of his own personality, but a frown followed. “But that doesn’t seem complete. How long were you guys building this thing on me? Actually, how did you make this profile?”

Produveral stared at Shiv for a moment, and his eyes shifted in snapping, clockwise adjustments. “A bit hard to explain; I also won't. Trade secrets.”

“Even if your intelligence people keep getting stuff wrong or off?”

“Inaccuracy varies and can be improved,” Produrveral answered with all the dryness of a desert.

“Fine. I get it. Don’t want anyone else figuring out your mysterious ways. So you have to understand me when I say I don’t trust any kind of authority with my own fate and power.” Shiv leaned in. “You know something: It’s weird, but you remind me a bit of him.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Shiv left who "him" was vague, but Produrveral picked up easily. “Roland Arrow?”

“Yeah. I didn’t grow up beneath the boot of a vile tyrant. You’re probably closer to him. It would’ve been easier for you to just put me down from way beyond the reach of my Awareness if that’s the way you do things. It would probably make things easier for your Chorus too, won’t it? But you didn't. And I think that means you all value lives and people. That’s a chosen burden right there. Protective tyranny is pretty different from a corrupt one.”

“I don’t know if I would describe Chorus as a tyranny.” Produrveral chuckled. “I think most people there would be offended by that to some degree. It's more like a messy, constantly infighting technocracy.”

Shiv narrowed his eyes at the cynicism that marred the man's heart. “Sounds like you think things could be better.”

“Oh, I things could be better. But it just seems that practically everywhere else I look, I see a lot, lot worse. Politics, kid. It’s poison for the soul.”

Shiv grinned. “Funny that: poison gives me a buzz.”

“Fuck.” Produrveral cringed in near-horror. “Why’d you have to say that to me? They’re absolutely not going to let you anywhere near an office of power with the Harbinger inside you, and you indicating you might like getting into the mud and shit is setting off more alarm bells.”

Shiv felt the pull between him and Produrveral weaken.

But first, he needed to fix this current mishap. He couldn’t let his influence on the Farwalker wane.

“Look, would you rather I be honest about all this or hide it and try doing sneak—uh, more sneaky shit?” And just like that, Shiv regained a measure of attention from Produrveral.

“Not with that skill,” he replied.

“Yeah. Fine. I might… maybe… can imagine why you guys are so nervous about it. But still, you can kill someone from way beyond a planet. That’s more directly dangerous than my Harbinger right now.”

“I can’t easily put down another Myth. not most gods or any Transcendents. A properly Delved Harbinger can collapse an interplanetary religion, and no one will know why or who did it.” Produrveral’s shoulders sagged. “But yeah. I understand why you’re worried about this. I get what you just did; it just doesn’t change things.”

“Because you still got a job to do from the bigger guys up top,” Shiv surmised. “Yeah. Figures. Well. Tell you what—I’m sure you guys have someone with a properly Delved Harbinger of their own, right?”

Where Pruduveral fell silent, Evanescia scoffed. Her mind and emotions jumped—Shiv saw it happen in real-time.

“You know what? For once, she and I got the same question.” Produrveral regarded Shiv with a growing alertness. “Centauri has you listed as for developing a Harbinger of Tripartite Ruin skill. But there’s nothing about what you just pulled. I’m a Myth. My mind is spread across dimensions—a few of which are my own.”

Shiv gawked. “You have your own dimensions?”

Produrveral ignored his question. “So, for you to slip out from my consciousness means that you’re either a hidden Transcendent-Tier Pathbearer, which… You know what, fuck it. Well done, Udraal: you played us all for fools again. Centauri will send a diplomat over to whatever hellscape you’re currently hiding on to grovel a bit and discuss what you want from us. But in the much more likely case that you have a highly abstract Unique Skill…”

the Harbinger noted.

“Might be more than one,” Shiv said, offering a playful shrug. Teasing Produrveral both annoyed him and incensed his curiosity. “So. Here’s what I’m going to do—and you two tell me if this will work. I’m going to stay in the Fairwoods. I’m going to let Produrveral here escort one of my bodies to wherever Chorus is. I’ll keep trying to escape from the virtuous Usurper-Narrator, the one true hero of Integration, while trying to prevent her from recapturing everyone who escaped earlier—and don’t lie to me, Evanescia, I can see your core is splashing about with molten hot excitement. You’re definitely coming for us.”

“Yeah, but you won't, because that's not very climactic. Bad pacing and all that. Think of it this way: you can try to use the tower to re-summon us, and I suspect the effect will only be partial because, yeah, we do have Unique Skills, and that still hasn't been assimilated, right?”

He got his confirmation from Evanescia’s silence.

“Alright, so you're having a hard time fully assimilating us. Great! Even more attention on your part! You need to physically recapture us! On top of that, imagine the pacing of your story: If I manage to pull off this nasty little escape, you drag me in over the back, but there's still Adam outside. You're going to have to go after him anyway.”

The pale creature tilted its head at him.

Shiv nodded, conceding the point. “He'd mount a proper rescue, but only be after gathering as many Legends and as much support as possible. Adam's a lot of things, but hopelessly stupid he is not. If he gets himself captured, he knows that's it; we're not coming out of the Fairwoods. Never. So he's going to take his time, and while he's taking his time, you are going to be trying again and again and again, and worst of all, you're going to be on the wayside, watching us live through stories that you aren't a part of. That you're just a reader trying to recollect missing pages from her perfect book rather than a hero writing them out herself.”

Rhetoric

A lightning bolt changed Shiv's Harbinger to his Rhetoric skill, and he felt a burst of levels pass and descend upon both.

“Nah, attention right now is good. Don't deprive yourself of that. Think about it: you've got pretty good odds still. You're powerful. You might not be able to leave the Fairwoods, but come on. You can't be without options. There are people who wander here, people who pass through. You can hire mercenaries. You can create vessels of your own. You can reach out and then put the fight on more even terms. Not entirely. You're still the Usurper-Narrator, but think about how close it has to be.”

And Evanescia did. While she did, however, the Farwalker looked upon her with a growing paranoia. It wasn't a near thing this time. He was fully aware of what Shiv was doing, and he gave Produveral a wink.

“Besides, I told you I'll be staying here. At least a version of me will. That'll keep this fight between us real personal. You can taunt me, and I can taunt you, and that can keep people turning the pages. At least keep you turning the pages. I got no reason to stay after all, but I stayed anyway because I mean to beat you in your own story.” His words left him in a vicious and senseless snarl, but the feeling of aggression came and went with the passing of a whistling gale. He leaned back, letting his posture relax. “Just the same way I'm gonna go on a trip with the Farwalker here. I want to see what this Chorus thing is all about. I want to face someone who's actually Delved their Harbinger to better understand everything you're talking about. I haven't agreed to let you do anything to me, but guess what? I can be convinced if you have the capability to convince me. You got every shot.”

Both Produrveral and Evanescia fell silent, trapped in their own thoughts. It was an interesting arrangement: one on Shiv's terms, but also one that made things easier for them. They didn't need to go track him down or brave the mana threshold of Integrated Earth for one. He remained accessible. Stayed close to his enemies, and they close to him.

“What's stopping you from using that Unique Skill again?” Produveral asked.

It was a good question. Shiv countered it with one of his own. “What's stopping you from putting a hole through my chest or battering through my Magical Resistance using your psychomancy and taking hold of me?”

“Choice?”

“Felling courtesy, Pathbearer,” Shiv answered. “I'm self-interested, but not stupid. At least I'm trying to be less stupid. I know that there's no fight between us. Before, maybe I would've tried cutting you down somehow, dying over and over again, trying to win through attrition, maybe through vitality drain. I know that you're different. She's different. I'm cutting through the bullshit. I'm taking a different road. Since there's a part of me that's actually genuine, then maybe… maybe this can work for all of us.”

A beat followed.

Finally, the man pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “And why the Harbinger is a Restricted Skill.”

Shiv shook his head, indulging in pride and honesty in equal measure. “My Harbinger is mostly broken right now. Aside from being able to see your emotional cores and guess at what you're feeling and what you're thinking, it's not really letting me affect you right now. Everything I did and said to the both of you could have been done by a Pathless, so—”

Something struck his mind. He felt Uva's strings brush him, pull at him urgently, and she was never the type to directly lay hands on him when she could call out or whisper that there was something wrong. He needed to divert his focus back to the Tutorial—couldn't control multiple bodies at the same time with his Legion of Self skill damaged. “Hey, can you two give me a second? I got a problem on the home front that I need to deal with. If this body stops moving and talking, it's not dead; it's just… I'm not all here.”

“Another question I want you to answer when you come back,” Produveral said. “Are the multiple bodies a Deathless thing, or did you undergo a special version of the ritual?”

“Deathless,” Shiv answered tersely. “Also a Unique Skill.”

“Jesus, how many Unique Skills do you—”

The Farwalker's voice was cut off as Shiv shifted his focus back over to his Severed Shadow. His awareness blurred, and for half a second, he wondered what the problem was; why Uva needed him back so soon.

Then he understood, and the blood froze in his veins.

He and the others were back inside Courtney, aboard the Sky-Swallowing Carp. They also weren't alone. His Severed Shadow had arrived in the captain's quarters, which meant that his physical body had been moved after it was rendered comatose with him being trapped in the Fairwoods. Inside the room with them were a few familiar figures. One was Jessica, and she stood in an unmoving combat posture, Rusty drawn, manifested as a broadsword, and pointed toward the ceiling, or what once used to be the ceiling.

The space above them had been torn wide open, a chasm of gore and snapping ligaments that was being stretched wider with every moment, causing metallic ichor to rain down upon Shiv and the others, drenching them in blood in moments. Also in the room with him were Roland, Can Hu, Valor, and Hades Hymn for some reason. A good portion of Gate Piety's combat power was assembled inside the captain's quarters.

And Shiv knew why.

Far above, the rust-red clouds drifting across the Tutorial’s sickly sky parted as a crushing, metaphysical weight descended.

The Challenger’s scar-lined visage loomed like a wrathful celestial body, great enough to crush a world between his fingers and cast all who lived upon its surface unto extinction. The orc god’s eyes burned a pure, incandescent white, contrasted by the vile appearance of his flesh, skin marred in sprawls of countless burning mass graves, spilling a rain of rusted weapons and corpses down upon the world.

But where his flesh was as Shiv had seen it many times, nowhere to be seen now was the familiar expression, that cruel, sardonic smile upon his face.

This time, his eyes were intense, and his jagged teeth clenched tight. The rage inside the Challenger was true and heavy, heavy enough that the Harbinger cried out in agony, with Shiv following suit. It was as if gravity had increased a thousandfold, and it was crushing his soul into the bedrock of existence. He witnessed the Challenger’s heart against his will, and his thoughts went empty as he felt a , deeper than any sea, wider than a universe, loathing near-unfathomable, and beside it rage and cruelty and all the things that made a monster in paradoxically equal proportions to that first infinity. But the Challenger’s heart was vast. Beside the anger and the cruelty and hate, there was also intellect, and wanton curiosity.

the Harbinger whispered, delirious with agony.

Shiv beheld the Challenger, and he knew him to be displeased, but the god's burning gaze did not settle upon Shiv.

No, his loathing crushed the Deathless, wounded him, caused Vitae to spill out from his cracked Revenant, but that was simply a byproduct of his scorn, and every bit of his loathing was directed upon two comatose Pathbearers.

A few meters beside Shiv, Adam lay on his side, his expression tense and miserable, like he was fighting through some kind of terrifying dream. Though unconscious, he was likely still suffering from his Haunting Omniscience. His body, however, was shadowed by the Culturist’s immense, unmoving bulk, while Adam's mind was guarded by a dense nest of Psychomancy—Uva was residing inside him.

Shiv groaned. Heads turned to regard him. Hearts flickered with surprise and relief as to his return.

But then the Challenger looked at him, and Shiv nearly felt his fragile Harbinger turn to powder. “Godsdammit, Challenger,” he croaked, trying hard to keep his tone light. “What is this shit? I just got back, and you’re throwing a tantrum?”

Shiv's attempt to engage the Challenger went ignored. The orc god’s gaze passed over him for but the briefest of instances, before sliding away.

And the Challenger let out a breath. A breath that sent a colossal hurricane sweeping down from the sky. It smashed into the Court Leviathan, and the titanic beast let out a piercing cry of alarm. But just as fast as the hurricane came, it broke as the Challenger drew in a breath, letting the storm abate at will.

There wasn't the slightest hint of the Challenger’s true rage within his voice, but it was there despite. Shiv could see it, could feel it staining the air, choking the atmosphere like smog and ash that would drown a world and wither all life. And there was no question as to who he was addressing.

And all too unnaturally, the fury that could burn a galaxy to ashes vanished inside the Challenger as he began to chortle with booming laughter.