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12-8 Private Transit

    In deeds, not oaths.


    In acts, not rituals.


    In practice, not prayer.


    We bearers of the scriptures, though ever faithless, do pledge our undying virtues to serve the commonwealth of the peoples of Idheim and beyond.


    We severed of cults and chains, bind the flesh of divinity toward greater ends.


    Our task is the cessation of the longest cycle. Our oath is the cessation of power. Our duty is to Guild and polity.


    Never shall I bask in power, but to guide and remold.


    Never shall I hold a position of power, only to counsel.


    Never shall I revive the memories of the old gods, for the path toward coming prosperity will be layered by practicality instead of mythology.


    I pledge myself to the task of the Agnosi eternal until I am severed of life, or severed from thought.


    I will be the keeper of all pantheons, but the follower of none.


    Mine is where the chains are broken.


    -The Covenant of the Faith-Severed


    12-8


    Private Transit


    Apotheosis changes a person.


    The first deviation between a Godclad and an ephemeral comes with their relation to death. Where the pall of oblivion clouds each risk-filled action chosen by the latter, the former is free to simply proceed in most cases, with their demise being anything from a brief setback to a moment of respite.


    Chambers took to dying remarkably well. His consciousness quavered during his first descent into his own Soul, but with the sequent departure, a growing excitement shed itself free from the mottled skin of existential dread.


    Far from being furious at Draus, when the man returned a third time, he requested she kill him again just for the sensation.


    And again for the thrill of being unable to stop her grip from folding his skull over his neck. As his head dangled between his shoulders, blood seeped out from Chambers’ nostrils as he smiled, Lustaway activating at his habitual addiction calcified around his baseline of trauma.


    As he toppled over next to his other two bodies, Draus studied him, unimpressed. “You know, I like coming back usin’ your own corpse. It’s neater that way.”


    “Resurrecting in a new body’s a good trick if you need a quick hit of imps,” Cas said. “Sell off some implants and all that other desperate organ trading stuff. But it usually makes you a pretty easy target as well. No-Dragons or Voidwatch ends up getting your biometric data and you’ll be looking for a new sheathe to avoid hunters or viruses specially engineered for you.”


    “Every corner presents a trap,” Essus muttered, face pale as his eyes were locked on Chambers'' corpse. The terror of death still clung to the man like a weighted shadow, but he was beginning to master himself more as his exhaustion outweighed his trauma. “We are people no more, then, Avo.” He looked up. “We are denied a final departure.”


    “Can still die if you want,” Avo said, keeping his words wide but subtext clear.


    If Essus wanted an end to this, Avo would let him go. But he could not leave with the Frame or memories. Such things were too great a boon and too large a risk to release adrift into the city.


    “I wish to have my own quiet for some time,” Essus said. As he looked down to study Chambers’ corpse again, a passing aero illuminated the walls and cast darkness over his face. “I wish to think.”


    “Well,” Cas interrupted, kicking Chambers. “As I was saying before ‘Kill-Me’ here decided to make a run at giving us all the Rash, I might have a demiplane that suits all your needs. Well. It’s more of an onion.”


    “Onion?” Essus asked.


    Cas nodded. “Yeah. Still got a few hours before we can nab the Agnos. How about we go get you all set for her…” He turned and looked at Avo. “What is it you’re planning to do with her?”


    “Fix,” Avo said. “Clean out the construct in her mind. Take the fire for myself.”


    The Columner nodded slowly.


    A wall of bees spread out behind Avo like a cape. “It will be a difficult operation. I have observed much skill from Ori-Thaum assets. If it would be acceptable, we would like to be on-site during the process for documentation.”


    Avo regarded the Voidwatch… bioform? He didn’t really know how to regard the swarm. Considering Sunrise still used the words “I,” its consciousness was clearly templated close enough to a human’s that whatever differences would not be axiomatic.


    “Do you know the art?” he asked.


    Sunrise’s collective mass buzzed in contemplation as one. “No. Aegis considers Necrotheurgy a forbidden developmental pathway. Until my ego is re-downloaded, I will not be permitted to return to the fleets. This is purely for self-curiosity.”


    Self-curiosity. It spoke like it was on safari. Like Avo was a deviant bioform worth observing.


    It should know that the feeling was mutual in that regard.


    Avo grunted. “Keep some distance. Don’t know if ghosts will affect your cognition.”


    “They will,” Sunrise admitted without hesitation. “We will keep to safe parameters.”


    Draus smirked as she looked at the swarm swirling around him up and down. “Well, hells, Avo. Look at you makin’ a new consang.”


    “Yeah,” Avo said. “This one didn’t steal my sword.”


    The Regular fought to force down a smirk. “You woulda just lost it.”


    She was probably right. But he reserved the right to be bitter.


    “Good times, huh,” Cas said.


    “I would not go that far,” Essus said, spitting his words through gritted teeth.


    “Aw, fuck.” Cas winced. “Sorry consang.” An awkward moment followed as Chambers popped back into reality, fist held up toward the sky as he cheered his resurrection, declaring himself unkillable.


    At least he returned with the diamond-studded pants this time.


    ***


    Leaving the aero-shop via a cargo unit repurposed into the body of a tram, the local district bobbed into view as they drifted out along vertical mag-rails. Snapping free of the dilapidated structure, the environment stood an alloyed jungle. Countless other cargo units shot along winding rails as interconnected traffic ran from block to block over blocks and blocks some more.


    Things here were built simple and stacked high, buildings literal cubes bereft of windows or other structural weakness, each planted like a step upon each as railways ran in a winding loop while the aeros crossed overhead.


    Though there lived only twenty million inhabitants in the local area, TwoGate was a place dense with moving bodies. Floating squid-shaped drones swam in schools from place to place, their jocks guiding them between sectors separated by numbers and verticality.


    Sector Five was where they were going–where the industrial work happened. A veritable tide of machines flooded to the lowest levels to haul engines to and fro different places.


    “Lots of Terrestrial aero-engines get produced here,” Denton explained. “Part of Omnitech’s attempts to compete with Voidwatch in the mechanical market.”


    “And how’s that going for them,” Draus deadpanned.


    “Their output of specialized war golems usually make up for mistakes like trying to out-compete the voiders in the tech-sec.” Denton finished.


    As they swiveled down to the very bottom and decelerated for final departure, another container moved on a rail beside them, keeping perfect pace for Denton to order the opening of both doors at the same time.


    “Come on,” Cas said. “We’re switching rides.”


    Stepping over into the other container, they found it to be filled with bolts and screws of various shapes and sizes, and unlike the one they just departed, it didn’t have any windows, keeping all from physical sight beneath sheets of worn plasteel.


    Avo connected to its locus momentarily and ignored the disquiet of the ghosts howling ritualized numbers in its structure. He hated jacking into Omnitech lobbies not because he couldn’t get in, but because they mainly used math and some manner of coded symbology to serve as the substance of their minds.


    Of course, the nature of their minds lacked the static ingrained within Denton or even Sunrise, so it was clear which technology was purer. But purity meant little when you lived in a world where mechanisms heed the whims of concentrated delusion.


    The transition took another hour as Avo studied the world around him through means of his Whisper. Essus took to his own corner during this time, and the Woundshaper sensed an unnatural concetration of flowing blood in a building not a mile away from them.


    Scouting out what was inside was a trifling affair. As Avo projected his cognition over a pit of massacred bodies, he regarded their appeareances with a brief look, realizing they were all garbed with a specific number on each of their lapels. They were currently being fed into a building processing unit, and more were being dragged over between the seconds, pulled by a few combat-modified squid-drones.


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    Cracking one of the drone’s wards and digging through its mem-data, Avo squeezed through the phantasmal architecture connecting it to its jock and infested the woman’s mind. Her name, contact information, and immediately memories splashed over him as he disregarded most of the details, leaving it for his ghosts to interace with.


    Instead, he filtered for everything on the massacre.


    Immediately, hours of mem-data related to the reprisals injected knowledge into his Metamind.


    Apparently, there had been a workers'' revolt among some of the FATELESS regarding their hours and performance metrics. They had attempted to compel management to reduce demands by crippling several key systems in their work sectors.


    It ended as these things always did.


    Sinking through the sequences of his latest victim’s Meta, Avo regarded the vast waves cast by his own Metamind with a wince. Every movement he made was shredding through her sequences and causing the Nether to tremble. He needed to reduce his presence.


    Thankfully, he knew how. He created a dozen or so loci from his own blood and infused most of his ghosts into them – all but three thousand.


    And then, with his cognitive shadow far diminished, he tore through his hijacked mind for more mem-data before firing their Auto-Seance and contacting her superior. Someone called Technotheurge Ansavvar.


    +Vrona? What is the purpose of this–+


    Avo cracked his wards and tore through him as well. The man’s Parry MK.II Pattern protections hardened against the first trauma loosed but were insufficient for what followed.


    Avo hated the Parry series: Indestructible until you get hit by slightly more than one thing. Then, marketing for the ward went from “unbreakable” to “so hard it''s brittle.”


    The process repeated about a dozen times before Avo found himself nulling his way through those who ordered the killing. He hopped through Auto-Seance to Auto-Seance, striking each mind from within as his metaphorical skeleton key only grew. Truthfully, it felt like stabbing someone in the back over and over again, the harm he inflicted offering only scant flashes of pleasure.


    They broke screaming and clawing their skulls in the warmth of their beds and the comfort of their homes. They died with planted sequences and mingled mem-data within them, muddying probable cause.


    Not that anyone would be able to guess the true reason behind Avo’s actions.


    Because he could. Because being able to null someone in power was an infliction of true harm upon another; a feat far greater than ordering the execution of the small and meek.


    It was also almost nigh-effortless on Avo’s part to execute. With all the jacking he did the past month combined with the boost to his reactivity, he was beginning to perceive previously unseen nuances in sequences and emotions.


    As he provoked a husband and wife manager couple into killing each other via the dichotomous revelation of hidden memories, he considered how he would have eradicated the workers, and options began to blossom and bloom in his mind – a garden grown from the soil of atrocities.


    Turning his considerations to another angle, he wondered how he could have prevented his own death as one of the wagers. Perhaps they could have procured their own survival by uprooting secrets between their masters and sparking a bout of infighting.


    Asymmetry. It always came back to the concept. Avo’s survival and greatest challenges were born from it as well. To strike from a place without being struck. To play a game no others could play.


    That, in of itself, might be the greatest advantage a Godclad held over even reality itself. To set and play by rules of your own making.


    “To be the rules,” Avo whispered to himself.


    There was so much more experimentation he could be doing.


    A flash of light caught his attention as he emerged from the dive. Draus was leaning against a crate as a ballet of vitrified sheets spun in front of her, each of them an open passage to another place–vantage points that formed an overlooking panopticon for their current vessel.


    It struck him how different her use of the Twice-Walker was from Mirrorhead. He used reflections to engender paranoia and intimidate, creating a pretense of omnipresence. She used it like an unseen spyglass, revealing nothing of herself while gazing upon distant adversaries.


    +Will be hard to track you,+ Avo said. +Might need to mask your perception more. Filters through the junction in the Nether.+


    Each piece of glass froze. Draus pulled herself away from gazing through her looking glasses and regarded Avo. +How many you get?+


    He hadn’t felt her link to his mind when he dove. +How you know?+


    +Your tongue goes wigglin’ about and you were bitin’ the air. Ain’t hard to tell, Avo.+


    Ghouls weren’t ones to feel self-conscious about their behavior but some habits were better corrected.


    +So,+ Draus said. +Who were they? And how was it?+


    He cast the details over to her. Her pupils cycled as she processed the information. “Hells. All in a day’s work, huh?”


    +Hours,+ Avo said. +Can do more. Want to play too?+


    Draus took in a breath and turned her head to glance back at one of her shards. “So. What’s the game?+


    +I drop mem-lock. You make a junction. See if we can make one look like a suicide.+


    Her lip twitched. +Our new “consangs” might not like it. We’re gonna have to keep this quiet.+


    +When have I not?+


    +Dunno. When you decided to null three-hundred-thousand FATED ‘cause you felt like it.+


    +Doesn’t count. Who knows if I did it? Exorcists didn’t find any evidence.+


    He could feel a faint bemusement rushing out of her.


    +Alright. Let’s do this. Send me my marks.+


    He cast his Whisper back out and filtered through his memories to indicate the closest involved party still alive. One accretion brightened two miles above them, their aero moving fast. +Think you can get this one?+


    Draus wiggled her jaw. +We’ll see, won’t we?+


    Two of her floating shards began to flash in sequence. Examining the glass, Avo watched as the pinhole of scenery changed. He realized then that she was effectively using two different sets of junctions as a ladder, connecting one to a specific reflection and then using it to re-anchor the other. All the while, she remained in place, monitoring things through her collection of shards.


    In seconds, her Heaven leaped across blocks and enchained itself to the window of a passing tram. With how little she was stressing the Twice-Walker’s Rend, its full manifestation remained dormant, and the two Columners remained ignorant.


    Little wonder why Godclads fought quiet wars.


    As the manager’s aero curved along the wind to arrive at an executive parking slot opening on the side of a block, Draus bound a shard to the aero’s windshield and bit back a smirk. +You want a jumper?+


    +Yes,+ Avo said. +Wait.+ He cast his Whisper through her second active shard and released a torrent of trauma into the aero’s locus. +No more monitoring. Now you can–+


    He didn’t manage to finish the thought as the vehicle’s windshield exploded. Glass fragments dug into the designated victim and, with the aid of some unseen force, tore him out through the door. Draus cut the passageway before any noise could spill over, but using her other shard, she watched as the man kicked and flailed, tumbling through the air before he burst apart against a passing cargo shipment in a spray of red.


    The suddenness and absurdity of the kill made Avo grin.


    “You two… talking about something funny?” Cas eyed them warily from across the unit.


    Avo stopped smiling.


    “Yeah,” Draus said. “Talkin’ about the Uprising. And how his family is made out of nothing but half-strands.” She jabbed him with a finger. He swatted it aside using an Echohead.


    Cas’ suspicion remained.


    +Chambers,+ Avo said, casting his ghost through an activating Auto-Seance. +Show Cas the Soft Master Collection. Scried at his mind. He’ll like it.+


    Chambers jolted as he turned away from Denton. He blinked as he stared directly at the ghoul. +You sure? Because… he seems like one of those straight-edged Jaus-was-right guys.+


    He was likely right about that, but Avo wanted the Columner distracted by other matters so he wouldn’t keep digging.


    +Just do it. You’re a ‘Clad. What can he do to you? Kill you?+


    That kindled a courage previously still and cold inside Chambers. +Yeah… I’m a ‘Clad. I’m a fucking ‘Clad!+


    Without hint nor warning, Chambers’ back straightened, his gaze sharpened, and all the necessary sequences comprising the Soft Master Collection vicarities peeled out of his inner mind and condensed into mem-data in a building Ghost-Link.


    Denton’s eyes widened momentarily as she caught of glimpse of what was forming around Chambers’ halo.


    “I–Chambers, what are you–”


    Ghost speared out from him into Cas as his hand fell on the taller man’s shoulder.


    “So,” Chambers said, face angled with a lecherous smirk, “heard you were also a connoisseur.”


    Cas turned to regard the fingers on his shoulder. “What the hell–” The contents of the Ghost-Link struck him then. His mouth fell open. His eyes rolled back as the totality of the vicarity’s horror brushed over his mind. His legs began to buckle. Through the near Nether, the anguished cries of Dannis Steelhard echoed softly.


    “Yeah,” Chambers nodded. “That’s the–”


    The link was rejected before its material could do more psychological harm. The twangs of guitar strings accompanied each curling digit as Cas closed his hand into a fist.


    Suddenly, the expression vanished across Chambers’ face, the flood of raw disgust and fury pouring free from Cas revealing more than enough.


    +Avo,+ Chambers said with a sigh. +You’re a real fucking half–+


    Cas’ fist lashed out. Chambers’ head snapped back. Draus’ eyes narrowed.


    +Shit,+ she said. +You might actually beat that one on one in a brawl.+


    Cas rained more punches on Chambers’ nose before Denton shoved him off. She caught the ex-enforcer as his body spun, nose trailing a whip of blood.


    “Cas, that’s enough,” she said.


    Despite being the one inflicting the harm, the holocoated Columner seemed more rattled by far. “Did–Did you see the shit he cast at me? He’s fucking insane. He was trying to Rash me.”


    A snorting laugh came from Chambers. “That’s alright,” he said. Avo couldn’t tell if the man was winking at him or if he was just blinking out of a swollen eye. “‘Cause I still got enough ghosts to make some phantoms.”


    “No!” This time, Denton tackled Chambers, casting her out thoughtstuff out to interrupt him.


    +Good soldier,+ Avo thought as he regarded Chambers’ struggling form. In the corner, a flat look of incomprehension swallowed Essus. +Think he would have made a good Reg in another life.+


    +Fuck you, rotlick,+ Draus replied.


    Metal and melody blended as Cas began to pummel Chambers relentlessly, desperate for the other man to go unconscious.


    Avo grunted. +Anyway. There’s the distraction. See if we can kill a few more?+


    Draus shrugged. +Why the hells not.+
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