Listen, I know my enemies have no idea what I’m about to do, because I have no idea what I’m about to do.
That’s why I always win. Because I’m the master of motherfuck—
-Randi “Chaos” Randoni (Crucible Razorgirl) seconds before blowing herself and 22,353 other people up with her “mini-nuke nunchucks”
31-11
Concepts of a Plan
—[Mondelles]—
It took quite a bit to shake someone like Santando Mondelles, but Aedon Chamber managed it. He managed it with flying colors.
Drafted into Chambers’ mad plan, Santando found himself playing a supporting role alongside Vator Greatling and a disturbing enamored Shotin Kazahara who was still clinging to the Lovebringer like a love-drunk insect. Their goal: To deliver a makeshift Rendbomb and disrupt the flames of correspondence somehow. The opposition: Uthred Greatling, now empowered by the Burning Dreamer’s unique Domain and an alternate version of Jelene Draus born of the paths, gifted with a specially designed Heaven from the High Seraph—or whatever Veylis was becoming.
It was madness. All utter madness. And yet… and yet that had been his life since the destruction of Scale. One problem followed another, and it was all he could do to stay ahead.
A tether made from gleaming magenta extended out from Chambers’ Lovebringer, and within the Heaven’s hollow cavernous core was a mirage of the Rendsink. Mondelles watched wordlessly as a junction opened before Chambers, granting him access to the waiting room just before Mondelles’ office.
There, the chaos unfolding one room over was still spilling over. Draus and the Deliverer must’ve been fighting at unfathomable speeds, for the flames of correspondence had only just begun to seep through the massive wooden doors leading to the Acting Authority’s chamber. Good thing, too, since it was easy for Chambers to launch a single Bond and tear the Rendsink out from its foundations.
The Rendsink was built like a pillar at the center of the waiting room—more of an art piece and a statement than meant for anything practical. That being said, it could hold a considerable amount of Rend in times of desperation.
Highflame valued function even in its aesthetics.
The Lovebringer’s strength of was terrifying. The foundations fixing the Rendsink in place should have rooted it absolutely still. Perhaps a Godclad of Strength or some other Domain of overwhelming force could have affected it, but Chambers had a Heaven of Love. Yet, his Bond exerted an impossible pull, and the Rendsink came free from the ceiling then the floor in sparking bursts. And just in time as well, as both the Instruments guarding Mondelles’ office burst in—their approach happening in hyper-slow motion, with outer doors barely sliding open as the Rendsink was pulled through the junction.
Five meters wide and twice again as long, the Rendsink resembled a metallic slab with several tube-plugged slots on its bottom where the sink could be installed on a Light Assault Golem Platform. Without Agnosi or proper logistical support, Mondelles wasn’t sure—
A burst of Soulfire washed out from Chambers, and the Lovebringer jolted back. “Jaus! Fuck! That felt weird as shit! Fucking… How did Avo ever get used to this?” He let out a series of muttered curses and several “Pleasefuckpleasefuckworkpleasefucks” as his flames tunneled into the Rendsink. Something was changing. Mondelles could a twist in the tapestry, patterns changing near his Frame.
“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” Vator’s words diverted the Acting Authority’s attention briefly, and Mondelles did a double-take at Vator’s “labors.” As they were hovering in this weightless demiplane, there wasn’t much of a “ground” to place things. Or brain-dead bodies grown from a catalyst of flesh. This proved to be to the young Greatling’s benefit as he stitched together clone after clone of his siblings via weaves of biomass he projected from his fingers.
Mondelles had known both Abrel and Jhred during their time at Axtraxis. The former was focused, skilled, and rageful. She never had a smile that didn’t possess an edge of triumph or bitterness. Jhred, meanwhile, was rage turned inward and impotence pointed out. Where his sister prevailed, he sank. And despite everything Mondelles felt about the Greatlings, it was just a damn shame.
The boy could’ve been a lot more. There was something worthy in him, somewhere deep inside. But he didn’t have a warrior inside him. He was broken before he came to Axtraxis, and he was even more broken when he left.
As version after version of both Greatling siblings tumbled out before Mondelles, he let out a disbelieving sigh. Their faces were blank. There was nothing resembling a consciousness in them, nothing that could support a Metamind. And they were at peace. More at peace than the former instructor had ever seen.
Mondelles practically envied them in that moment.
“Holy shit…. I did it! It worked!” The Lovebringer’s threads undulated upward in a display of jubilation, and Shotin muffled things like “I never doubted” and “You were always good enough” into the Heaven of Love’s nape. “It’s a Domain of Space now. Just need… just gotta get Draus to fill it up.” A savage series of snickers escaped Chambers as he rubbed his threads together as if they were hands. “Time for Uthred and Evil-Draus to get fucked. Maybe literally.”
A frown developed on Vator’s face as he continued assembling more brain-dead siblings. “The wonders you are capable of astound me, Chambers, but your words fill me with disgust and horror.”
Again, spoken while he was creating blank-faced naked clones of his siblings.
What the fuck even was Mondelles’ life now?
Cords of flesh snaked out from the bodies of the Greatlings, becoming an interconnected network of biomass. With a flick of his hand, Vator puppeted his siblings and compelled them to action. He laughed first, and an Abrel followed thereafter. Soon, the others connected to here repeated her expression and actions in a cascade. Vator then moved on to words, declaring: “Please, don’t put me in the case, father! I’m sorry! Please!” and “Why did mother ever choose you.”
These too were repeated.
After a few more reactions were tested, Vator grinned and looked to Chambers. “The bodies have been composed. One hundred and two in total. Should be enough to tighten around the Rendbomb.”
“Nova,” Chambers muttered, and using his threads, pulled the wreath made from Greatling bodies and placed that over his makeshift bomb. As the Abrel and Jhreds folded over the top of the Rendbomb, it seemed as though they ran a bit too long, drooped and dangled thereafter. “Still a bit—” Vator waved a hand, and with a series of sickening cracks and snaps, his unthinking siblings closed around the Rendbomb like a tightening net. “Consang… that was kinda gross.”
Vator narrowed his eyes. “You have very strange standards, Aedon Chambers.”
“Yeah, well, the fucking popping and naked sibling thing is creepy. Period. And—ah, shit, there’s no Metamind either—”
“Worry not, I have paired their nervous system to mine. Any actions I perform and will across our shared biology will be replicated across the network.”
“...Nova. Uh, you might be a creepy, strange half-strand, but you’re pretty effective Vator.”
The young Greatling just grinned. “I always aim to please.”
The Lovebringer turned its attention on Mondelles next. “Alright, stubbles. It’s time you hide us in the Greatling pile.”
“Please choose better words,” Vator said, frowning again. “It sounds so inelegant.’
“The Greatling net. Nest. Whatever the fuck. Mondelles. Do the thing.”
The strangeness of the moment was only growing, and Mondelles did as the Lovebringer demanded in mute agreement. His Lumenshroud collapsed over Vator and the Lovebringer—Shotin still holding to the latter like a locust to a crop. Mondelles himself came apart in a rush of brilliant streams.
His Heaven was a mix of Porter and Breaker, his usual focus was dedicated to tunneling pieces of matter into his enemies, destroying and killing through spatial imposition more than serving as a glorified mule. What he was a party to right now was something entire unique. He never hid himself so close to a Rendbomb for one; he never intended to go against the High Seraph and Highflame; he expected to fight alongside a Greatling and some Low Master Acolyte.
Yet, here he was, doing all those things because… because what else was there to do after what he had been shown, after what he just learned. The High Seraph was changing. Not herself. And with what she did to Uthred, turning him into an outright pawn, what she intended with Abrel…
Mondelles had served. Loyally. For years. But he had always believed in Highflame’s tenets. That he could be worthy. That he could become a paragon of power and virtue. Only for it all to be worth nothing in the wind.
He didn’t think he was literally meant to be an instrument while he served as an Instrument.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Thin threads of light slipped between the gaps of arms and legs. A unified chuckle sounded from all the Abrels and Jhreds, and Mondelles practically shivered. But his attention quickly shifted to how stable Chambers’ Bond was—connected to the Rendbomb despite behind held within Mondelles. That wasn’t a Domain of Space. That was something else. Something far more encompassing.
Amidst all this chaos, if there was a single point of certainty, it was this: Mondelles was no longer in control, and he existed at the mercy of Godclads far beyond him in asymmetry and power.
Godclads like Aedon Chambers.
Oh, dead gods, Aedon Chambers could probably snuff him at anyone moment.
Fuck.
—[Chambers]—
Chambers had no idea what the fuck he was doing, and he blamed Mondelles for that.
Like, what the fuck? The Acting Authority just spent the last few frantic seconds gaping like a fish while Chambers and Vator did all the work. Meanwhile, Shotin was too love-fucked to be any use anywhere else unless Chambers deliberately ordered him to do something. Which… the fuck did Chambers know about commanding people in battle?
No! That was Mondelles’ role! He was supposed to be a Highflame super Godclad command thing or some shit. Why was Chambers the hero in this situation too?
Fuck, his anxiety was killing him. How did Avo do this?
“With a lot of support,” the Lovebringer cooed in the back of Chambers'' mind. The world around him was a weave of light that was just too tight to be comfortable. Vator, the Lovebringer, and Shotin were all squeezed together, and the Seeker let out a pleasant sigh.
“If things go in the direction of fucked, at least we go together,” Shotin murmured. “With people that care.”
A flash of terror passed through Vator’s eyes as he regarded the Seeker next to him. “Again, I must declare my deepest wishes for you to never touch me with your tethers.”
“Don’t worry,” Chambers coughed. “It’ll try not to penetrate you with my love if I can.”
“And please, please, please use better words.”
Chambers ignored Vator after that. He would use whatever fucking words he liked. {Draus. Shit’s done on our end. Kinda. Fucking pop us out. We’re going to for Uthred. Keep other you busy for a little longer.}
The same moment his message was dispatched, a new portal opened within the inner recesses of Draus’ demiplane.
+We’re moving,+ Mondelles declared. +Out into the flames.+
JausfuckpleasefuckworkohgodsIdontknowwhatImdoing
“Uh, yeah. The plan. One more time. We mind fuck Uthred. We slip away when we get close and pop the bomb. We paradox or backlash correspondence or something. Shotin smashes him with the stack after if that doesn’t work. And then I hit him with a Disentanglement or make empty so many loads he dries up and dies. Sound good?”
Shotin nodded. “The fact we’re trying to kill Uthred Greatling makes me love you even more.”
“I am very uncomfortable.” Vator smacked his lips together. “It is a very unpleasant experience. But novel.”
“Mondelles?” Chamber called.
+Uh, yeah, sure. Of course.+
The Lovebringer threw up its threads. The fuck was that? How was this guy an Acting Authority. Fucking… Highflame standards are bullshit.
“I think he’s just overwhelmed mentally and absolutely terrified of us,” the Lovebringer said.
Chambers snorted. Yeah. People weren’t afraid of Aedon Chambers. Annoyed by him, disgusted by him, but unless they were some mod-slave or ‘fugee and he had a gun to their head while in an exo-rig, he wasn’t scary at all.
“I suspect your self-image is due for an update,” the Lovebringer muttered. “The world does not know your heart or your history. Not like I. Not like Avo. They have only witnessed what you have done. And surviving New Vultun is a statement in itself.”
The doubt in Chambers lingered. +Shit. Then, I wonder how he’s going to feel about me after we finish mind-fucking Uthred to death.+
—[Draus]—
A lance of glass and a rusted blade of vibrating metal clashed. Draus released another of her reflective avatars as the Deliverer tore through them—and was promptly consumed by a Shattershunt. Spatial reality tore, and the Flames of Paracausality sputtered. Everything she did to affect space affected the anomalous flames to some extent, but it wasn’t severe enough for a backlash. Far from a paradox.
And the same sense of futility characterized Draus’ duel with her pathborn self.
Though an entire chunk of the Deliverer’s torso was missing, the damage only made it faster, more destructive. Spent casings, empty batteries, rotting corpses, burning golem chassis, and rubbing filled the Deliverer’s broken body, and it kept coming. It kept growing faster, larger. Draus heard the siren song of the Big Nothing play in the back of her mind with each exchange.
Making matters worse were the other Liminal Frames that Draus sensed. More of Veylis’ forces were coming over. Which meant that Uthred needed to go down, and go down now.
“Almost out of cap?” The Deliverer asked.
REND CAPACITY [SIMULACRA RESPLENDENT] - 89%
REND CAPACITY [ARSENALIST] - 92%
VENT! VENT! VENT!
“Getting there,” Draus replied, not bothering with a lie. She prepared to deploy Chambers—him and that insane fucking plan of his. The stupid thing is that it just might work. She stole a few glances at Uthred, and the number Chambers did on him before was something heavy. Even now, the former Authority and current Ninth Sphere was out of the fight, trying to recover while the High Seraph called out to him.
Small mercy. If Draus had to fight both the Deliverer and Uthred, she would have retreated to another junction in Axtraxis—focused on overloading the entire academy before escaping, instead of making a fight of this.
As things stood, she still had a few cards to play.
“Well,” the Deliverer growled, missiles of decay streaked out from the fractures lining its ever-breaking body, slashing out to destroy the twelve Simulacrae still on the field of battle, “we all gotta go sometime.”
“Yeah,” Draus said. “Just don’t think it’s today.” She sent all twelve of her reflective avatars into a suicidal charge—but as they crossed the extending and collapsing folds of fire and space, the rearmost Simulacrae released Chambers and the others, and out came her special surprise.
To Draus’ delight, the effect was immediate, and even the Deliverer stilled amidst the flames, freezing to a sudden halt as she saw what Draus had “unleashed.”
“The fuck is—” The Deliverer’s words trailed off as a series of Redaction Rounds fired a few minutes ago blasted out from within the Simulacrae. This miracle, the Deliverer had to dodge. Once more, the pathborn jolted across space, but though it had been brought in by Uthred, the instability Continuum inflicted was an obstacle against her as well. She barely made it a few meters before dashing away again, Draus hunting her now. “Gods fuckin’ dammit. Really? This Chambers’ doin’? You let him take point here?”
“We all gotta go sometime, right?” Draus replied, chuckling. She saw the Greatling-covered Rendbomb slowly sail toward Uthred.
Hell of a sight.
—[Uthred]—
Uthred was trapped in a nightmare from which he couldn’t awaken. First, his remaining children were torn from him—Abrel; Vator, stolen from his grasp as Scale came asunder. There, in the chaos and fire, he struck a bargain. With Veylis or the Dreamer, he did not know, for his mind was already fragile—his ego weak after barely avoiding a true death by dying with all cyclers at forty percent Rend.
Returned, he was pressed into service, positioned in Axtraxis to wait for a period. The anticipation was that the Regular would eventually come, and come she did though she brought with her his son, Vator.
What strength possessed by his psyche left him then. He came undone before his boy—perhaps his sole living legacy—and less than he ever was, Uthred Greatling, head of House Greatling, broken. From him came ever regret he ever held, every admission of sin offered to his son. To no avail. He felt no better.
And Vator…
Oh, poor broken Vator… He never was a person.
And the final indignity came with that—that horrible Heaven that touched him, that forced pleasure on Uthred when he did not want it. Pleasure unspeakable. Pleasure unimaginable. Pleasure above pleasures, even more than what he experienced with Lorea, with anyone. It was a violation of Uthred’s will above all others, and now, and now…
“Authority, you have been commanded to do your duty, you must—” A voice echoed through the flames. But there was another sound. Another shape that sailed across the instability Uthred’s new Heaven inflicted upon the world.
It looked… it looked like a shape made from his children. Abrel. Jhred. They were—Uthred’s cog-feed flickered as he suddenly sobered. He drew in a strand of drool, his snot, wiped at his face and blinked rapidly.
There, upon wavelengths of rippling fire approached a missile. A missile coated by his children. They cried out to him, their bodies naked and burning, but he recognized them still—would recognize them anywhere.
His Abrel.
His Jhred.
Oh, dead gods, was this hell?
A disbelieving pause interrupted the voice—and through it came a chuffing laugh.
“What is this?” Veylis muttered.
“Chambers,” the beast that dwelled alongside her replied. “This is Chambers.”
And as the missile came close, Uthred heard them.
“Why are you hurting us daddy!” They cried. “How can you love us when all you do is hurt us? When you never cared? Where were you? Where were you when we were in pain. Where were you when we needed a father.”
No, no, no,
The nightmare had no end… And… And Uthred deserved this. He deserved to suffer. He deserved to die.
Somewhere inside him, the last thread of his rationality came asunder. Uthred swam toward his children, and his flames obeyed.. “I’m coming to you now! I’m sorry! Your father… is sorry!”
“Authority—” Veylis was interrupted by Avo again. “Go. Embrace them. Be a good parent.”
Uthred did. He blurred across the space unimpeded, pulled the missile toward him, and just his open arms wrapped around Abrel and Jhred—so many of them patting him, reaching out to grip his body, he muttered: “Please, I am so sorry, forgive me—”
As one, his children stopped crying, and their faces went slack. Through them came Vator’s voice. “Oh, but I never hated your father. Apologies. This is for your own good.”
Then, a construct of spatial entropy hidden by the Greatling children detonated, and Uthred felt himself consumed once more.
His flames were cleaved apart. His Frame rattled—but didn’t backlash. However, a thread of gold pierced Uthred thereafter, and before the former Authority could recover, a spatial stack slammed down on his head, a demiplane composed of thoughtwave detonations shredding his thoughts.
Mindless, overwhelmed, Uthred knew only an animal fear as a tendril of magenta shot out from the chaos and pieced him once more.
And this time…
And this time all Uthred knew was love.