Even Further Beyond [Complete]

To Shatter Heaven

He remembered the lich Tyranshal, whose bottomless opprobrium for the nature of men had driven it to ultimate despair. Was it happy, Nameless wondered, alone in the Out, beyond the reach of even the Fates, blind deaf and dumb, a grim silent speck of awareness in the vast unfeeling dark?

That was the fate it had chosen and consigned itself to, be it penance or reward, but though Tyranshal was gone its legacy was far from departed. Nameless would not be where he was without all that the lich had taught him. Nonetheless, its ideas on their own would never have sufficed. It was important to absorb a lesson, more important still to go beyond.

"We thought the whole world would yield to Reason," had said the lich, "but Reason does not exist to make things yield."

And that was true. Reason did not exist to make things yield. That was the purview of Might.

But might without reason was clumsy at best, calamitous at worst. When one had as much power as the Thrice-Great, finesse and precision mattered even more than the particulars of strength.

It was not enough to win. From his current august perch, there were as many roads to victory as Paths in the Dao. Victory without compromise was his goal: the Fates defeated, Zang Kong neutralized, the peoples of the world reasonably well-off and safe, and most importantly - his own responsibilities nonexistent. It would hardly be called winning if he was forced to bestir himself for administrative minutiae afterwards.

He had told Tyranshal that he would prove the Great Sage wrong. That Nameless would prevail in the game of the Fates; that he would be no unaccountable tyrant if he won, that the peoples of the world would be happy for more than the faltering span that suited the Fates' caprice.

He would even prove that Tyranshal's work on the Sign of Blood was valuable; nay, necessary, a foundational component of the (hopefully) golden age to come!

And so, the vial before him. A crimson elixir studded with flecks of essence that shined like the stars on a cloudless night. There was power in blood, power beyond the capacity of mere flesh to contain, for blood was the conduit between the material and the essential, the soul's reflection upon the real.

Liches of the past had experimented with distillation of the blood, concentrating the heart's entire supply into a single droplet and regenerating with that droplet as the source, but the corpus could not contain reified essence at such concentration, dispersing into ashes under the strain. Even the Diagram of Death that instantiated one's Lichdom could be imperiled by such reckless folly, if its material of inscription was insufficiently formidable.

But Nameless had even less use for his physical organs than a conventional lich, and his Lichdom was manifest upon the Ring of Truth itself. He'd cast the True form of Prodigious Might and his body was imperishable fire, the blue-upon-blue of the sea before a storm.

With such preparations, concerted distillation of the blood was possible. Applied recursively through abuse of the Nebula Battlesuit, this process allowed him to reach the long-hypothesized 'island of stability', whereby one's blood was mighty enough to fuse the Essential with the material, such that the blood alone could manifest one's Essential self within the realm of matter, assuming the form of flesh, organ, bone, and nerve as needed or desired.

This was a body comprised of pure essence, malleable with a thought into any shape one could conceive of one's self, limitlessly vital beyond the remit of mere reason, and naturally proficient at shaping the world's essence through the radiance of its own.

By seeding his blood into the veins of another, he could reinforce their physical and spiritual nature, gifting them a shadow of his own power. Strength enough for an ordinary mortal to sunder the physical universe with a single blow, or to elevate Elven master-workers to beyond the wildest dreams of Artifice. They, in turn, could spread this blessing to their own followers, though such progeny would be diminished one step further, each generation successively weaker as the line of blood descended.

In truth, such layered diminishment might eventually result in an unsavory outcome, given arbitrary generations of descent, but he had no intention of spreading his gift so widely when it contained such potential for destruction.

Of course, there were those companions whose efforts were critical to the success of today. Even with the vehicle of the Thrice-Great, missing a single multiplicative contribution would see him still far from the power to reliably challenge Zang Kong.

Without Xiaoling he may never have found Tyranshal before doom claimed the lich, and Suizhen's assistance went without saying...

---

Ming Xiaoling strode into the board room of her Clan, clad in a diaphanous gown of elven make, silk exquisite beyond dreaming, white and gold as to make the stars and streams and dawn pale before its magnificence.

"Xiaoling, what is the meaning of this-" Her father began, but he was stilled, and the Board fell to their knees, heads pressed into the stone of the floor before the merest emanation of her power.

This was power beyond accounting, beyond belief, power that beggared mere Titanhood as the Trade Throne did its most wretched of debtors. Power enough to snuff out all the stars in the sky with the slightest exhalation, power that laughed at the very idea of quantification. Before such power even the furthermost reaches of their Dao were nothing, candle-flames held motionless within an ocean of might.

"Quiet, Papa. There are greater considerations at play." she said, not unkindly, in mirror of the words he'd spoken when silencing the companions of her youth.

She brushed him aside, and settled onto the Trade Throne, crossing her legs.

Thinking for a moment, Xiaoling tapped a slipper imperiously against the Throne's side. "I shall succeed my father as Matriarch of the Trade Throne of Ming. No objections? Good. Empty the coffers and the Clan Reserves and send them to the Isle of the West. My friends have need of our funds."

They hurried to comply; money was one matter, strength quite another. The one was only an imperfect proxy for the other, fungible and useful for administration or the buying of luxuries, a frivolity in the face of true might.

"How is this possible?" Ming Jinyue croaked, terror and pride warring across his visage.

"Oh, Papa," Xiaoling raised a disappointed eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious? Like you always said: it's not what you know, it's who."

---

Kong Suizhen stepped past the north-western border of Kong, and for a moment her power flared.

The Elder Council of Kong, not unused to the tenuously-bridled might of their Patriarch, rushed to attend her.

"Hello," she said politely.

They bowed in unison. "Juniors greet the esteemed Great One!"

She tilted her head in mild confusion. "It's just me, Suizhen. The Patriarch slew my family a few years ago. Elder Wu, do you not remember?"

The panicked elders conversed hurriedly for a moment before one of their number came forward, bowing deeply.

"This one apologizes for his grievous lapse in courtesy! Young Suizhen, you have changed so much in a few short years and grown into a magnificent beauty and peerless swordswoman: we can scarce believe our eyes!"

"Oh, t-that's alright," Suizhen said, somewhat embarrassed. "It's mostly Sir's artifact and blood donation."

"Er, yes... of course! Forgive our dire lack of perspicacity, unsuited to witnessing such exalted mysteries!"

"Sir would probably find this hilarious," she sighed. With an effort of will the Battlesuit's helm snapped into position, her visage replaced by an unblinking blue expanse.

"Step aside, please. I will now evacuate all who still reside within the Overgrowth, and destroy it, except those parts connected directly to Zang Kong's Chrysalis." She held her blade aloft and turned it to the side, edge facing Kong territory.

There was light, the entire horizon glinting blue like steel flashing in the midday sun, and then the line dividing Earth and Sky slid towards them as if pulled, splitting the Overgrowth as utterly as up from down, left from right.

What greeted them afterwards was greenery, winding brooks and gentle streams, mountain crags shrouded by fog, as the East had been before the brand of Kong was applied. The Sky that had been strung and wound through the land now was cut free, its vastness returned to the heavens where it belonged.

Suizhen smiled contentedly, patting the full rucksack at her side, and departed for the Isle.

Final preparations were underway.

---

The council was arrayed around a table of white stone in a circular antechamber whose ceiling was open to the sky. Golden shafts of sunlight arrowed through the surrounding arbor, dappling them in soft warmth.

Assembled around him were Aurelia, Xiaoling, Suizhen, Amouthanos, and a number of master artificers vetted by the Praxis Council, sworn to Aurelia personally with oaths of undying fealty. Their enemies were the Fates; the circle of trust limited to the absolute minimum.

"It has come to this," Amouthanos said wearily, the eye-jewel of his crown glistening wetly, idly scanning his interlocutors. "I will admit, Nameless One, that there were hours where I despaired of ever overcoming the Seasons' ceaseless escalation. It is no coincidental irony that they will be unmade by a master of the same."

Resting her head on Nameless' shoulder, Aurelia raised one hand pertly. "I, on the other hand, never doubted you for a moment, darling!"

"Of course not," Nameless rejoined. "You're smarter than him, and know me better as well! But, Elf-lord, are you really okay with this? Despite everything your civilization has survived the passing of the Ages. The Fates seem to have a soft spot for you, yet you engineer their downfall?"

"Perhaps," Amouthanos replied. "Yet with every passing Age our numbers grow thinner, the moral compromises of the Council more contemptible. You were their Fated Overlord for an eyeblink; favorite or not, we were their plaything for eons. I am tired of staying one step ahead of their machinations. But you misunderstand. We are tied irrevocably to you now. Just as Majesty's Ringbearer bound you to us, equally she binds us to you. None could gainsay her even before her command of Naturalism had reached today's heights. No. Our ship of state is strapped to the prow of your might, for better or for worse."

"Me?" Nameless laughed. "I'm just the delivery guy."

He pointed at Suizhen. "The fighter you're looking for is over there."

"Then I shall hope that a weakling such as you can fend off Zang Kong, should he wake while your retainer is in Heaven."


Nameless shrugged. "If you've got the good stuff."

One by one the blood-empowered artificers presented their works, a set of jewels and a brace to set them in, a wireframe constellation that traveled the length of his left arm to his shoulder. One by one they extinguished their lives, sacrificing the last of their enormous reserves of essence to complete the armament with which the Isle of the Elves would send the Nameless One into battle.

If he won, he would revive them with the Necromancer's power. If he lost, their lives were forfeit anyway. Knowing it was meaningless, still he waited a moment in honor of their sacrifice. The panoply of jewels twined into and around his arm, gilded junctures sliding closed around arteries and veins, a tracery of infinite runes spiraling down its length. The Primary Jewels slotted in, one atop each knuckle. Conquest, Prowess, Insight, Harvest. As he clenched his fingers they glowed like a fistful of suns.

It was meagre power in the grand scheme of things, enough perhaps to elevate him by a quarter of a Cultivation Stage, though this Artifact alone could subjugate the entire Labyrinth Empire (save Eastern Kong) without so much as the snap of a finger.

He summoned the scepter that was his Extrusion, recalling the lich from its training grounds. The fruit of three weeks' diligence, purchased at exorbitant cost, flowed into his mind, power enough to add another fifth of a Stage. By his reckoning, he was about as powerful as Zang Kong, perhaps stronger by a sliver. It would have to be enough.

He met Suizhen's eyes from across the table.

"Ready to finally do your job, bodyguard?"

"Sir," she answered, "I must protest. Not only is Sir sending me away from his person, I am to assassinate his enemies proactively! This is the opposite of a bodyguard's role!"

"You're right," he said. "Shall I fire you then, and re-hire you as a assassin?"

"Does this new job come with debt forgiveness?"

"You know he can't afford that right now," Xiaoling pointed out. "Remember how much money he owes me!"

"Darling, do you need a sugar mommy?" Aurelia whispered conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I can help!"

"Dao of being my sugar mommy..." Nameless muttered.

"Charming as this all is," Amouthanos said, "Are we actually going to battle the Seasons today?"

"You're no fun at all..." Nameless complained.

"So I've been told. Shall we begin, then? There is the matter of the fate of the world..."

"More like the Fates of the world, am I right?" Nameless shot him a finger-gun. The Constellation's Jewels hummed menacingly.

He cleared his throat. "Okay Suizhen, I'm promoting you to bodyguard / assassin. The details of your compensation will be worked out after you come back. This is a big responsibility, but I know that you're ready for it."

"Thank you, Sir! I shan't disappoint!"

"Good. And don't forget to pick up any Celestial Orbs you see." He closed his fist, a circular rift opening above of the center of the table, Heavens and earth connected for the first time in Ages. Through the portal they saw pillars of empyrean blue, graven with archaic runes. Shadowy figures flitted through the flame-lit hall.

Suizhen nodded, tightening the grip on her blade. "Don't worry, Sir. The stars in Heaven may be our enemy, and the sky itself as well, but the sword held above them is greater still."

---

One main story update remains. BPs generated after this point can be used to improve certain outcomes in the epilogue(s).

What is Suizhen's mission?

[ ] Mercy - Or what passes for it, in Baenlixnaire's perspective. Annihilate the Fates utterly. Remove them from existence, and let them be glad they face mere oblivion for their crimes. [+0 BP]

*You can pretend you "had to" kill them so Baenlixnaire will only be a little disappointed in you when you revive him.
*You won't be able to use the Fates as batteries or utilize the power of the Fate sign anymore.
*You won't be able to construct Artifacts anymore.

*The Game ends, your loss condition no longer applies and the Heroine will have no more Fated support, being merely a very talented individual. You will not get a wish. As you chose Just Shoot Them, this is true for all three options.
*The Servants of the Fates go free. They are not very powerful compared to you, some of them are assholes, others are fairly reasonable. This is true for all three options.

[ ] Justice - After rendering them helpless, seek to inflict upon them suffering equal to that which they inflicted upon the peoples of the world and their Servants, the failed Overlords of past Ages. Various ironic punishments are permissible so long as they are of appropriate severity. [+1 BP]

*Milquetoast middle path of compromise. Baenlixnaire will be very disappointed.
*You can enslave the Fates and order them around like they did their Servants.
*Their ability to influence the world is quite limited outside of specific time periods and circumstances.
*You basically have to trigger the End of an Age to make them useful.
*You can make them hose the Heroine, which would be pretty funny.

[ ] Vengeance - As you were charged, see to it that the Diagram Schools are avenged, no matter the cost. Unspeakable horrors will be visited upon the Fates, far in excess of even what they inflicted upon the world. But such is the nature of vengeance. [+7 BPs]

*Baenlixnaire will be proud to call you his student.
*You can go Further Beyond [3 BPs], absorbing the Fates into the Conquest Jewel, Jewel of Prowess, Jewel of Insight, and Harvest Jewel, acquiring the Signs of the Bow, Sword, Scales, and Scythe, respectively. Also quadruples the Stage boost of the Infinity Gauntlet Constellation.
*They will be broken and face suffering equivalent to Baenlixnaire's wildest dreams.
*Future Artifacts crafted will be somewhat twisted and horrifying, though their function on a technical level will be similar.
*It's easy to promise vengeance when the prospect of fulfillment is distant and the Fates are far away. To deliver satisfaction when the targets are right in front of you, even if they have committed heinous wrongs, is quite another matter. Does Nameless really have it in him to consign these beings to torment?