There are not many adversaries that can null one of our Strike Cells, and what happened down at Mazza’s Junction went far beyond that. I’ve experienced something like that only once.
Shard-2 went down first. We pulled the Scry-Cell out afterward and rotated “Swordfisher” in.
As for what followed…
My best estimation as to what happened with Mirror-Convex was the unknown managed to get access to their proxy via an Auto-Seance stored within a locus at our dead drop in Kaswarg’s Grove, room 5588.
I have yet to determine how the unknown managed to access the memories or through what means, but simulations suggest they might have used a routinely passing drone within the establishment as a jack-node to scry at our defenses.
Alternatively, they entered using Jhred Greatling, but considering his protections and general elusiveness, we do not think this to be a likely case as it would take an immense effort merely to access his mind.
From there, events grow jumbled. We believe we nullified two of the target''s assets and unsequenced their mem-cons, but they continued operations from the mind of one “Aedon Chambers”--an individual rated at the upper echelons of Meta-instability when Swordfisher made their first approach.
Considering how many Rash-triggers and mem-cons there were within his mind, we dare say that whoever was using him as a node likely designed him to be a makeshift fortress, but the methodology is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
The initial engagement between Swordfisher and the unknown resulted in Dagger-2 taking severe trauma damage but surviving thanks to the rapid response of Dagger-1 and Dagger-3. Conducting an efficient and commendable fighting retreat, they engaged and held off the unknown who was described as “releasing near-instant and unending torrents of trauma-patterns.”
Nonetheless, they managed to lead the initial target into one of our subverted minds before activating a null-trigger. We assumed the unknown nullified thereafter, but a second attack and Convex’s demise followed right after. Dagger-1 and Dagger-3 were also rendered mind-dead in the assault.
From reviewing the information we have gathered, I would like to formally have my suspicions stated for the record. It is my strongest opinion that the Low Masters were involved in the catastrophe at Mazza’s Junction and that they engineered the events behind the chaos engulfing Yuulden-Yang as well.
What’s more, I have a theory that this “Aedon Chambers” is either one of their acolytes, sleepers, or a direct sheathe for one of their numbers. Such an explanation would also serve to reveal why the man’s mind could sustain itself as he was.
I do not know what their aim is or why they decided to provoke open engagements with us, but what is certain is this–we must be prepared for war. We must harden our defenses. We must review each and every operation for leaks and flaws.
We all remembered what happened in those initial days of the Uprising. We all remembered how many we lost.
If the mind-priests of Noloth have returned seeking retribution at this very juncture, then I fear we must steel our wills for the worst possibilities–that they are working alongside Highflame as a twin-pronged assault to destabilize our assets while they configure the Rash for thaumaturgical adjustments.
-Mirror-Concave to the Council of Elders
13-7
Hunters in the Dark (II)
Oversec-C1 was closer to being an intersection than a fortress. A very defended, very mind-traffic-intensive intersection.
The information drawn from the lobby’s internal mem-data suggested that upward of three million personnel operated through its confines, their signatures marking them as Paladin or Exorcist or both.
Separating the two, however, was an obvious process, for some Heavens expressed themselves in ways that affected cognition, causing minds to leap from sequence to sequence or even occupy several different spots in the Nether at once.
Such delineations between the mundane and metaphysical also did well to denote the purpose of each profession. Paladins handled matters of a more thaumaturgic or heavyweight variety while the Exorcists responded to matters of lesser severity by ghosts and drones.
With this observed, Avo moved in avoidance of the Paladins, aware that he was not the only one in these depths with their skills magnified by the gifts of a canon, most skilled though he may be. It only took one bearing the impenetrability Abrel formerly possessed to see his infiltration undone.
The grid of Oversec-C1 itself, though the design was of the inspired variety, was an inward-facing onion drowned by patrolling Specters and false sequences leading off to trigger points and dormant mem-cons set to and mem-lock intruders. As many traps as there were, Avo thought them easy to spot for any Necro that has survived more than a few thousand dives. Such limitations made sense after all: It wouldn’t do for the Exorcists themselves to be lost and nulled just accessing their phantasmal offices.
Such precautions also revealed to him another truth: With how carefully the Exorcists entwined some of the fake recollection pathways over real ones–with the details of a single questionable integer in the mem-data or a minor memory asset that fell out of place amidst the backdrop of the broader artifacts comprising the memory–he knew they had been infiltrated before, and had gotten very good at leading inexperienced or arrogant Necrojacks into prepared nooses.
Avo had to commend them on all their effort. Perhaps he could even borrow a few concepts he learned from it over to the expansion of his own labyrinth. However, when faced with someone with his diving experience and capabilities, the best he could say was that they had enforced the lobby’s governing structures and security, but forgot the body still needed blood to circulate.
There was no true need for him to stalk his way across the deceptive environment laid before him.
Not when he could target such vulnerabilities as the Exorcists themselves.
Again, a system was only as secure as its weakest assets. To ride the data was to drift unseen. Short of misfortune delivering him before a truly observant and masterful rival in this lobby, his progress was slow but ensured.
Spoofing his way through patrolling Specters or unaware egos, he operated more akin to a plague than a thief, siphoning essential memories to broaden his avenues of access while also mapping out the totality of his present environment.
If Oversec-C1 was a world, it would be an inverted sphere with the bulk of its cognitive capacity split among six different superstructures layered out of interconnected phantasmics and sequence-made programs. Between each phantasmal construct were channels where the Exorcists could travel, and between the superstructures ran singular bridged segmented in layer and layers of checkpoints.
Those bearing the proper memories were allowed clearance and awareness of new offices and pathways nonexistent when perceived by their cohorts. Those without simply didn’t realize how vast the lobby they operated in was.
A spike of inspiration buried itself deep in the bedrock of Avo’s subconsciousness. The beast stirred and growled when it realized there was nothing for it to kill. The Exorcists had managed to apply the Incog to specific sequences as another layer of security against even themselves.
Such a thing was truly impressive. And something he would emulate for his own needs when the time came.
As things were, he needed to go about streamlining his processes.
Instead of actively venturing across the lobby from end to end, he sequenced mind-specific mem-cons for each of the Exorcists he compromised and had completed his desired tasks. Immediately, he emulated something he saw from the Exorcists, stashing viruses within false memories he injected into their phantasmics.
Within minutes, he found himself with multiple assets spreading across the entirety of the local network. From there, he picked the most senior of his compromised targets and rode his way up the ladder.
The vastness of their lobby’s simulated structure loomed outside of his notice. He operated with caution and care, and within the interface of his cog-feed, a new map was being painted into shape with each wave of mem-data that sang back to him. Advancement demanded patience, and as he inched his way past barrier after barrier, avoiding approaching Paladins and scurrying between Exorcists, he reached the nexus of his targeted superstructure with less than five real-time hours.
The unsimulated administrative phantasmic was a delta of memories formed into a construct, and it was filtering entire oceans of mem-data back over through the other mechanisms within the network, parsing the necessary from the noise.
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Taking a moment to settle his thoughts, he examined the build of the final construct he was to usurp and prepared his ghosts accordingly. No two minds were alike, and in the same way, memories had their variations as well. He intended to leave his mark as an invisible yet indelible scar in this place–something to grant him access and made no noise.
Such a demand required the germination of a special seed, and he went about his great work while scrying through the offending phantasmic.
However, as he infused the administrative nodes with his perception, he felt the helix within him ring in alarm. It was then that he noticed the oddity in the memories he was beholding–something of scattered and dissonant emotions sequenced in memories to they didn’t belong.
For the second time, he felt his helix vibrate and Avo canceled the half-finished being sewn into shape upon the tip of his Ghostjack.
Low Masters. They had been here. He could feel the presence of their memories–sense the very stench of their cognition.
A worrying thought followed thereafter: If he could detect them even in circumspect conditions, could they do the same to him?
Such a consideration compelled him toward precaution.
His abilities had swelled immensely since his encounter with his extended “family,” but the thought of nulling other versions of his father–especially with them sharing so many similar features–remained unpalatable. Moreover, it was folly to consider his victory against any of them certain.
He knew they remained his better in the art despite his newfound advantages. He also recalled how many of them there were, and their access to the Hunger itself.
Whatever that thing could do.
Still, he had not dived this deep to come away with nothing.
Again, he considered the path forward, trauma-patterns at the ready in case anyone emerged from the Nether’s fathomless expanse seeking his nullification.
As the moment drew on and the silence stretched, Avo tentatively accessed the construct once more to better examine the handiwork left by his father’s “kin-selves.”
Their skill couldn’t be denied, for if it weren’t for the ringing of his helix as he was sweeping through the construct, he would have missed their handiwork entirely. To codify mem-data using make-shift memories attuned by incorrect bouts of emotion took a level of insight into humanity. Such was a feat Avo didn’t think himself capable of now, nor in the coming future so long as his cognition was to remain the same.
For all the traumatic and emphatic resilience invited by the psychopathy of his nature, a ghoul he remained, and so the subtlest notes of a human heart were of a frequency beyond his capability to capture.
He needed to consider potential countermeasures.
Interacting with the hidden sequences, he remained on guard, expecting an assault to come at any moment. Yet he was alone in a sea of thoughts, only fending against echoing leakages of thoughtstuff.
Scrying through the hidden recollections, Avo found himself faced with part of an Auto-Seance’s access point. He released it without making any alterations.
Part of him wanted to strike it with his mind, the urge response to building tension. He wanted to see the Low Masters finished, to prove his skill, to see himself rid of their shadow, to severe the will-blunting weight of Walton they bore in their image. Just as much, however, he wished to flee.
Facing his father in the Deep Bazaar had marked him. Changed him. Prepared him for this coming fight.
But he was not ready with respect to his focus or will. Not yet.
Killing an ideal was one thing. Facing countless other Necros on par with his father was to court neurological oblivion.
A decision followed. He stayed on the path of his plan but shifted the course of his actions.
As much as he wanted to access the system, he didn’t want to risk revealing himself to either the Low Masters or the Exorcists, and with how close he was to missing the work of his former masters, trying to subvert them held high odds of ending in failure and suffering.
With the Conflagration, he might be able to maim one of the Low Masters, but his instincts told him to put no stock in such hopes. Most Necros did not duel in the open. For everything he noticed on there part, he felt assured there were at least a hundred more hidden dangers he had yet to uncover.
The Nether was cobwebbed by threats unseen. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have his own countermeasures.
Just like he learned to wield the personnel as vehicles, so too would he use them against his father’s forks. Moving away from the administrative phantasmic, he planted two Auto-Seances and connected one to a heavy cog-capped thoughtcast as a luring trap.
The other, he connected to a locus holding one of his dormant Eaters. If the time came, he would either use both the Exorcists and Low Masters against each other by drawing them all in using his flames.
Perhaps he could even implicate Ori-Thaum in the action.
A good plan, with the cost being some Exorcist minds at the most.
For now, he would leave this branch of Oversec-C1 untouched.
Transferring himself from the local sequences by cycling through memories with his Auto-Seance, he jumped across another seven Exorcists before one of them sank deep into the administrative core of the next superstructure over.
This time, he was pleased to discover the absence of the Low Masters’ touch. Of course, the pleasure didn’t last, for when he made his approach, he encountered another problem in the form of thoughtsuff spilling free from an unknown ego-dead Necro with a half-finished Auto-Seance built into the local administrative phantasmic.
Accessing the broken fragments of memory left of the dead Necro’s Meta, he found leaking details promising a hundred million imps for a backdoor into the Exorcist’s systems.
A flash of a sudden explosion told Avo all he needed to know about this unfortunate’s fate. They had died in the real while diving, the cause being something of a considerable explosive yield.
Sometimes, things just went poorly and you couldn’t do anything about it. That was why a big part of being a Necro was jacking from a secure location.
At the very least, there was already some phantasmal infrastructure in place for him to access. Resequencing it to clean out any mem-cons, he used its base and finished his own build. In the right corner of his right eye, new details began to boot across his cog-feed as his Metamind twinned the mem-data passing through this juncture of the Oversec with his internal systems.
When the root-access functions appeared, he knew he had control.
For the second time that day, he disconnected from the lobby and jacked out. The dive was done and he wasn’t going to stay in Low Master-infested waters for long. Not without an overwhelming advantage or a more detailed plan.
Disconnecting from the lobby for the second time that day, he surfaced back into his flesh and blinked pulsing strings of mem-data out from behind his eyes.
“Is it done?” Denton asked. The others were staring at his projected phantoms still playing his vicarity footage from framejack-accelerated hours ago. “Do you have access?”
He grunted as shook off the fog. Long sessions in the Nether took a while to settle from. “Yeah. Got access.” More phantoms flowed out of him with a thought, and the root-functions of the Oversec’s systems booted into a holo-haptic interface. “Mem-data’s all there. Hadn’t had a chance to dig but… system’s pretty congested. Low Masters are there. So are freelance necros. Pretty popular place.”
At the mention of “Low Masters” most of the faces in the room turned to look at him. Chambers, lacking context and sense, continued to watch Avo’s memories, studying how he forded his way across the inner defenses in the first Exorcist he hijacked.
Considering the emptiness that emanated from his mind, Avo thought Chambers was offering more practice to his facial muscles than his actual knowledge. The man wasn’t a Necro. It would take deep adjustments to his mind, habits, and personality to achieve such effects.
Or a proxy… That could increase effectiveness in a pinch as well.
Another project worth considering in the future.
“Low Masters?” Draus said. “The hells they doin’ in there?”
“Same thing he was, probably,” Cas said. “It’s pretty useful to know when the glassers are coming. And from where.”
“Glassers?” Kae asked.
“Exorcists. They designate and scalpel blocks compromised by the rash,” Cas explained. “And usually, they do that using a Heaven of light that partially glasses the structure as well.”
“Oh,” Kae said.
Swiping a hand over the interface, Denton brought up schematics and planetary maps dotted with several vertices. As she continued narrowing her search parameters, two mem-locked signatures remained.
One was ascending past orbit, marked with the string “ABHF-001.” Such was Abrel Grealting’s designation. The other, however, Avo didn’t know, but Denton’s interest was plain.
Uncharacteristically, smirking to herself, she opened files connected to mem-lock titled “ELD-MDR-001.”
A scene expanded from the perspective of someone pushing their way through a banquet of some kind. From the ceiling dolloped waxen chandeliers that oozed but refused to melt while fires licked at colored frescos dotting the tall ovular windows.
The visual feed froze then as the scene was redacted, but not before the vicarity’s audio lingered a few seconds longer. +I, Chief Paladin Samir Naeko, hereby invoke Article Nine against Council Elder Mwaba D’Rongo. I have with me verified mem-data and a witness of the third degree. All stay your hands from steel or face the Sage… Seriously? No one? Wow. Sensible party, Ambassador. I… a bit disappointed, not gonna lie. Say, where did Uthred go?+
The scene froze. The memories culminated.
Kae stared on as Denton turned over to regard her.
“Well,” Denton said, “the open arrived a lot sooner than I expected. I didn’t think Naeko would be so aggressive. Anticipate Ori-Thaum retaliation within a day.”
“You want me to set off the distraction?” Cas asked. That caught Avo and Draus attention at once. “It’s a bomb in the Tiers. Several bombs.” He lifted his arm out from his holocoat and the air around the strings connected to his arm shivered unnaturally. “Something to choke up the bureaucrats.”
“Just target D’Rongo’s personal detail later,” Denton said. “We need a way for Avo to get in without being distracted. There’s an opportunity here. To find out what she knows about Project Godshaper and what else the Council has planned. The things we can learn from her will be beyond value.”
She turned to Kae thereafter. “And we might just be able to offer you a final settlement for your account, Agnos Kusanade
Kae swallowed but found enough iron inside her nerves to muster a nod.
The Glaive’s eyes took on a gleam of anticipation as she looked back to Avo. “Well. It appears my esteemed superior is now in Paladin Custody. Do you think you can locate her exact mental position in the Nether and shape the necessary arrangements for a dialogue? I think we have some inquiries to make, and that Agnos Kusanade here deserves to have her grievances addressed.”