Godclads
Chapter 8-2 Heat

+Attention all subjects, stay indoors; vacate the streets. This is a category-one warning. All subjects who fail to comply will be marked and scheduled for a detailed scan at later date.

Repeat: please return indoors and vacate the streets.+

-Exorcist Public Thoughtcast, Yuulden-Yang Sovereignty

8-2

Heat

+Jaus. What in the rash-spreading fuck did I let you do?+

Draus’ mind was boiling. She was mad at him. Furious. But the cleaving wounds she beheld of the spectators lingered, dancing shadows in her mind. Torn by his recklessness and stunned by the blow he struck, two pressures worked within her, one of survival, desiring to flee, the other more a flicker, its heat a dormant want rekindled.

“As I said,” the Woundshaper hummed, “this one is of a like.”

In the moments it took him to shroud the aerovec containing his companions, the Exorcists arrived. Their coming blotted what little light trickled down from the hexagonal maws leading out of the gutters, through the threshold of Layer One. The glint of the first drone fell, a silver teardrop with wisps of hair trailing in its wake.

Avo knew the design of Tadpole drones well, both in chassis and locus. They possessed nothing in the way of ranged capabilities, but that had never been the purpose of their design; lethality stood counter to the Paladin ethos, their oaths to protect above all else.

The three whip-thin tendrils of a Tadpole were charged with a bio-tuned electro-synaptic current–its design a gift from Voidwatch after a particular brutal riot some two centuries prior. Capable of extending for a full mile each, each Tadpole was capable of breaking riots, while the metafluidic cell that comprised the underside of the drone’s mercury-coated shell could hold more than a dozen temporary prisoners.

They came, drones numbering in the thousands, as a sudden torrent after the first. The flood of their shapes darted out, undulating as they curved along the undersize of Layer One, slithering into the glitching error codes that should have manifested the face of a false sky.

As if stormclouds, they expanded, their flashing eyes peering across the entirety of the Sovereignty.

Fast as their response time was, this was but the first step. The drones were to secure the premises of the Crucible–and beyond.

And so they went, digging through the bloodsoaked plasticrete of the Ultimart Avo left in his wake, ignorant to the unnatural gusts of rising wind brushing past their quarantine, whistling its way toward the chasm which parted Mazzo’s Junction from Burner’s Way.

Mere minutes into channeling the canons of his Galeslither, Avo knew it would be torture should he ever lose this Heaven.

Never in his life had traversal been so convenient, transportation so easy.

Circling within his Galeslither, the Zephyr-make aerovehicle spun and tumbled, shaking from the turbulence. Avo kept his winds as calm as he could, but the nature of his being was a thing of coiling storms, ever twisting in torque and motion.

Checking his DeepNav, he saw a line of errors twisted across traffic. The lanes and arteries were bending. Some pathways even seemed to curve and crumple as if they were lines on a paper, folding toward one another.

Over from Draus’ mind, he heard Kae mutter a question, the tang of her worry flowing through.

+Paladins,+ Draus said. The tension inside her grew thicker. +Godsdamned rotlick drew out the Paladins.+

Rising past the gulf of Layer One, the Spine they beheld was not the same one they descended.

The totality of local space seemed to have fissured, for one, cracked down the middle with a fractal of mem-code errors, his feed unable to stitch the spatial wound into something his mind could conceptualize.

Geometry twisted at the four corners, folding traffic lanes and structures once vectored to each other horizontally to vertically. The breakage seemed to flow unnaturally, spreading down in a crawl, anchored on the reaching limbs of its further crevasses, a metaphorical spider near-half the size of a megablock.

It wasn’t until the fissures began to inch down the skin of existence that Avo understood what he was looking at.

+Planescrawler,+ Avo thought. Across the session, Draus’ mind chimed with familiarity. She knew this titan-class golem. Knew it well. But that was as far as her mind went. She refused to think of it anymore, of the war and regrets left unwatered in her past.

A planescrawler wasn’t a rare sight in the Upper Tiers, but in the Warrens, the appearance of a Guild-pattern mobile-spatial platform echoed the markings of the Fourth Guild War, of the Low Masters’ Uprising.

Those present didn’t even need to listen to the thoughtcast to know what was being requested; it didn’t take much to convince their departure from the streets and skies.

Running half as long as a megablock and only a tenth as thick, the crack moved as if the fractured lines of a broken mirror instilled with the essence of a serpent. Uncountable ghosts bled from the clefts of the planescrawler like gout, their signatures bound to varying loci on the other side.

Avo remembered doing dives on such a platform with Walton once. A month-long job, the success of which still dwarfed his comprehension to the present. Without his father, he would have surely been lost within the district-sized labyrinths which comprised each of the crawler’s gargantuan loci.

An ill thought arose. His father. His father, who still had surviving alternates–parted reflections of his person, if the node could be trusted.

As it stood, each of them was still operating in the city, every one Avo’s better in his chosen craft.

The presence of the planescrawler loomed like a giant about to tread on an anthill. It wasn’t what made Avo wary. That was the problem with having such a mass of ghosts: they shone like a miniature sun in the Nether, making stealth an impossibility.

No. It was the other Waltons that Avo thought of as he peered into the spatial fissures. He didn’t see them coming. And they certainly had the skill to strip him of choice again.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Not after the succor he just discovered.

The ocean of ghosts surrounding the Paladins’ golem blockaded them from returning to the Second Fortune, seeing how it was on the other side of the Sovereignty. Any attempts to approach near the golem would inevitably see them exposed to thousands of thoughtscans at the very least.

Avo could deactivate his Whisper and try traveling blind, but then his DeepNav wouldn’t work, and though his winds ran far, he didn’t actually know the city like the back of his claws.

Best to wait. Position themselves in Burner’s Way while they waited for the planescrawler to sink down to the depths of gutters. Then he could see about claiming any excess components required by Kae.

Checking his Rend, Avo felt a pulse of satisfaction.

REND CAPACITY: 31%

Most acceptable. With this efficiency, he could travel at least a district or two before venting. This put most of the Sovereignty within his reach and potentially gave him another angle to assault Mirrorhead.

The Woundshaper vibrated with envy, strummed by the excitement offered to his present Heaven. “Yes, yes, what possibility the mule presents. But with I, you could unmake the structures that inhabit these spaces. Reshape them to your liking. Doubtless you are considering using the winds to gallop into the prisons of Conflux and free that fool–the idiot partling you thought of looking at those slaves before… Essus. If he still remains in their hands, that is.”

Avo contemplated that quietly. Time had slipped by him. Power. Preparation. All the games being played.

So long did they let their fellow survivor languish…

A flicker of hunger burned within Avo. What new memories did the man possess? Was he even still alive? Still held by Conflux?

It would be interesting to see these questions answered.

Avo considered what it would be like to dwell within the flat’s mind as he gazed upon himself again, if the father could taste the change.

+--Avo!+

Draus’ thought jolted him from contemplative reverie. Her voice was even, but a cold simmer hissed out from the other side. The oddness of her anger made him consider the nature of her mind.

Patience remained within her. Control as well, but she wanted to wait no longer.

She wished to speak.

+Land us in Burner’s Way.+ He answered.+The alley you hid the barge when you found me here. Want to talk?+

Draus laughed, but it was a sound empty of any amusement. +We’re gonna do a hells of a lot more than talk.+

***

REND CAPACITY: 9%

The scenery leading out from the trailing alleys of Burner’s Way peered toward tilted skies still warped by the planescrawler’s passing.

Frozen in a pocket of counter-gales, their Zephyr hovered above the ground just past the edge of the alleyway. As Avo waited for his Rend to drain, he spoke to Draus and Kae, the words coming from him more easily than they ever did before.

Prior to possessing the Frame, he despised small talk. Interaction in general. The presence of others agitated his beast naturally and grated him due to matters of personality. Not now, however. Now, he wanted to speak. Share. Learn.

Now, he had new tastes he wished to indulge.

He told them of the Woundshaper; everything he knew of its nature and history was offered. Draus listened, expressions like carved granite. Beside her, Kae leaned against the rusted walls as she traced her exocortex with her finger to self-soothe.

Her tracing grew only stronger when he mentioned his encounter with the refugees–and his new epiphany.

Kae’s face became a near-constant frown, clearing in increments as she forgot the source of her anxiety in bouts. Beside her, the Regular’s eyes narrowed, and her breaths grew slightly longer. More controlled.

By the time Avo finished, all traces of the planecrawler had faded from reality. Lonesome rings projected holographic lanes from section to empty section, their translucence filled with naught but air.

It didn’t take long for the aeros sailing the local skies to clear out. Not to say Avo was surprised. It was never a good thing when the Paladins get the green light to walk Guild territory.

“You spoke to one of the survivors?” Draus question wasn’t one of confusion. No curiosity was leaking from her mind, she was looking for clarification.

Avo breathed out. Filtering the memories in his Metamind, he brought the specifics of the sequence he saved from Req. The Nether took a moment to adjust itself as countless markers and details bled out of his cog-feed but upward, far beyond all the layers of the Warrens, a glint flickered.

The Paladins had extracted the refugees. Taken them up the Tiers for questioning.

Avo considered if he could use that as a means of infiltration in the future…

“Avo,” Draus said. “You’re drifting. Driftin’ more than usual.”

He blinked. “Spoke to all of them. Linked with one.”

The Regular’s expression darkened. She lowered her head. “You keep your mask on?”

He grunted. “Holocoat. Shifted into the Galeslither–”

Fuck,” Draus growled, her voice sounding a toneless snarl. She took a step forward. Reflexively, Kae took a step back, blanching. Avo held still, unfearing the approach of the Regular. He smiled instead, fangs wide as he found himself bemused by their inverted position: the Regular was attacking while the ghoul held firm.

“What,” she said, coming to a stop right below his jaw, “the fuck kind of Frame job has you revealin’ that you’re a Godclad?”

Was she trying to shame him? He felt no shame. Felt only satisfaction from new flavors discovered. “Don’t know its me. Didn’t show them my nature. Hid my work well on the locus as well.”

Draus nodded. It took Avo a moment to realize the action was sarcastic. “Well, hells. How ‘bout it, Kae? He ‘hid it well.’” She spat. “There aren’t that many Fallwalkers playin’ in the Warrens and gutters? You wanna know why, Avo?”

“Compact,” Avo said. “New Vultun Compact. Terms of Individual Sovereignty Rights.”

“Nevermind that legal shit. I’m talkin’ actual details. You wanna know why?”

He shrugged. “Tell me.”

You. Are. Takin’. Lives. From. The. Guilds.” She glared. “Let’s put aside how you might’ve fucked both me and Kae first. Your little ‘flipping the board’ might’ve flipped us under it. Mirrorhead’s gonna be lookin’ out now. Squirrly half-strand’s probably thinkin’ Fallwalker’s out gunning for his Frame. Might just cut and run if we’re not lucky. So, we’ll be dealin’ with that real soon.”

She continued. “The Scalpers’ll definitely know somethin’s up. If they assume, probably’ll think it’s Mirrorhead himself. But the gutter war is on, however that goes. They already got hit twice, and hit hard. They’re bleedin’ into the water, and if they don’t hit Conflux back some gangers or rivals might just decide now’s the time to make a run at them. The Column...” She paused breathing in through her nose as she slouched, deep in thought. “Fuck knows what the Column’s gonna do. River’s probably gonna pop a vessel.”

That was the wrong thing for Draus to say if she wanted to dissuade him. If Green River was going to be inconvenienced by such attention, Avo was of a mind to do an unmasked interview on New Vultun Sunrise.

“Can turn chaos to our advantage. Use Chambers to feed false information to Mirrorhead. Tell him that I’m–”

“It’s not about the plannin’ anymore,” Draus said, interrupting him. “It’s about trust. Workin’ together. Bein’ able to execute a plan and see things done–”

He leaned down, cutting her off as well. “Happy.”

She paused, frowning.

He continued. “You were happy watching those nullings. Three-hundred-thousand. Four by the end. Could be. But you liked it. Me. Hurting the watchers. Gutting a Syndicate the way you never can.” He turned his head and looked down at her. “Envy? Just jealous that I’m doing more damage. Winning the war where you could only do battle?”

Draus scoffed. “We ain’t winnin’ shit. We’re down here in the bowels beneath the actual city tryin’ come up with a plan to snuff some… exiled Chivalric Guilder-boy to fulfill our vendetta.” She eyed him. “Or at least that was why we’re here. Was. You still want to kill him. But it ain’t hate you have for him. Nah. That’s hunger. And it ain’t just the beast. You just want his parts. His burn.”

“Yes,” Avo said, inching closer to Draus. “Power is choice. Power is to understand. Feel. Everything else chosen. Slave. Ninth Column. Guilds. Syndicate. Walt–the Low Masters. All give shackles. Won’t wear them. Not again. My path now. Mine!”

Part of him wanted her to strike him. Something that would give him a good and flavorful reason to kill her. The rest wanted her with him still. A want crept up inside him, the Woundshaper giving it a voice. “We will not replace her like amongst the detritus of this city again. Should you strip her of life, know that the fuel she offers is the same as that of the basest slave. She offers more than mere amusement, master. Understanding. She understands. Rare, such a thing is.”

He blinked. “Mercy?”

Draus frowned. “You talkin’ to that thing inside you?”

Thing? Part with my previous words: kill her. This partling knows nothing of respect.”

“It’s talking to me,” Avo said. “Gives… advice. Shares memories. Knowledge.”

The Regular sighed. She shut her eyes. “Shit. I should've never let you do this–”

The beast roared inside Avo at her words. He hissed, involuntarily. “You don’t let me do anything. I choose. I decided. I am Godclad.”

Her expression remained unchanged. “You don’t look like you’re choosing much of anythin’ to me, consang.” She tilted her past him. He followed her eyes. She was looking at a needle: The pointed end of a joy elixir.

A building heat swirled inside his guts. He flexed and unflexed his claws. She was calling him a slave to his nature, saying that he was an addict. “Wrong. You don’t understand. Don’t see.”

“I see plenty–”

“Then why are you alive?” Avo asked. “Can kill you. Kill almost anyone here.”

Nothing. Not a hint of fear from her. Regulars were no strangers to death, but something in Avo wondered if she was even more unshakable than the others of her kind.

Kae’s voice cut into their conversation. “It’s call-called the False Apotheosis.”

Avo turned to her.

“I-I think that’s what’s affecting… affecting you right now.”

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