Looks like our doom's been deferred for now. I'll take Evangelion references and exposition over parachuting straight into hell any day.
At last the onslaught of interesting times seemed to have abated for a span. Hunger awoke the next day to a fresh dawn, birdsong against a pink-gold sky, the world open and effervescent before them. A wind blew past, carrying the scent of lilies and roses, dewdrop lightness like a feather's caress.
I don't know why exactly I expected a Dark Souls experience from the Decimator's Affliction, on a day-to-day level the changes wouldn't be visible. This isn't quite Manifest Realm-level comfiness, but it's up there, pretty enough that we'd feel guilty for being here with the Curse unsuppressed.
He looked down to see the promised bouquet laid out around him. It was impressively bountiful and immaculately arranged. A smirk tugged at his lips. One ought expect nothing less from Lady Allria, though he wondered where she had gotten the flowers from. There was a card as well, made from creamy paper-stock which she must have scavenged from Letrizia's supplies.
Guess I shouldn't be surprised that Gisena followed through, but the transition from banter to actuality makes it funnier. Reminds me Seram's standoff with the paper mache crane Lilea made for him, after waking up in Koine's school. Such care and consideration, truly a terrifying opponent. Speaking of under-explored characters, we never got to know her too well or figured out the method behind Koine's madness, though she's a recurring figure in Addio's omakes.
To our hero, said the card, written in perfect calligraphic hand with a spontaneity and flourish that captured well the tone of its writer. He paused in his reading to look into the distance. The Sorceress really was frighteningly talented at nearly everything she turned her mind to. Did her powers of nullification somehow arise from that? As if to say, 'should this world be reduced to the human level, I would be Empress and none could stand against me?'
Interesting, might give some insight into the Maiden's intentions for Gisena? Does it even make sense to conceive of her that way, after she splintered herself? I suppose an algorithm or sufficiently advanced foresight would do the trick. The Oracle's existence implies that the Maiden had a Path to Victory equivalent, even if the Grace's later bearer was crippled. Presumably intentionally, so she couldn't path her way to reconstructing the findross singularity? Man, so many of these reactions include me rambling about AST 1.0's worldbuilding, I should just bite the bullet and chase the Eclipse.
Idle speculation. Gisena was too irresponsible for that. He returned to his reading.
Does... Hunger know about the Duty? How much has Gisena discussed her last stop, anyway?
I hope you enjoy this lovely bouquet. I spent nearly half an hour on it! Also, I've worked on your Curses, about as well as could be managed. You should find that the times are slightly less interesting, and your Decimator's hunger more easily assuaged.
A nice way to work in the results of our earlier mitigation vote.
Love,
Lady Gisena Allria
Your Favorite Sorceress~
Her self-appointed title's not as flattering as she thinks, since Hunger doesn't know any other Sorceresses. Check back in a dozen updates or so, Gisena, when we've taken Total Eclipse and set Letrizia up with a Coalescence of her own. Then there'll be an actual contest! If we're still alive, anyway.
Truly a terrifying woman. He set the card aside and examined his arm, which one evening ago had been little more than ash and bone. Healed now, sealed perfectly and without scar, though the long-ago amputations of his other arm and eye persisted.
He was human again, the spirit entwined inextricably with the flesh, though the potential of his wraith-form slumbered beneath, ready to awaken when his mortal coil failed. With an effort of will he brought that ghostflame to the surface, channeling it through his cloak of stars so that their ambient glow might continue to heal Letrizia.
I figured we wouldn't have to regularly stab ourselves to heal others, that'd be downright unintuitive, but it's good to have confirmation. Even free picks are powerful and our presence gradually healing people might throw hunters off the scent of the Affliction, if we ever let it run.
The girl was laid in a makeshift cot beside his own, and the passing night had done well for her condition. The ghostfire's curative light worked slowly, but its healing was profound, and the grisly mass of burns that covered her left side had improved considerably in complexion and texture.
Another passing breeze blew a flower into Letrizia's face, and she grumbled, blinking into wakefulness, pushing herself upright with an elbow. Her eyes were still bleary as she touched her face with only a minute wince of pain.
Poor Letrizia, she really ought to be made aware of all the Curses we bear. She recruited us as an escort and we've gotten her into a heap of trouble since.
"Am I...?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you?"
"Ah!" she startled. "Um, hey! Don't tease me right now! Can't you see I'm injured!?"
He turned away. "Such a stoic pilot. A shining example for all who wish to join the Armament Corps."
She pouted. "As if there's such a thing! Anyway, I do feel a lot better. Guess I've got you to thank for that?"
I'm awfully curious about the structure of whatever organization she works for, but I'm guessing Foremost relics are too rare for a Corps. Maybe if the tech advances enough for mass production of Armor Prototypes, that'll change?
"Maybe it was Gisena." He buffed his fingers against his chest.
"Hm!" She raised her palms to his cloak, as if basking in heat from a fire. "Feels nice, whatever this is. The light is so soothing, too... can I borrow this?"
"It won't work if I'm not wearing it," he said amusedly.
Not yet, anyway, that nameless pirate managed to give his crew knockoff versions of the Evening Sky. Maybe not be as dedicated as Vanguard's protective ability, but I wouldn't mind donating 2 Arete to the cause of Letrizia's continued survival.
"No fair!" She snuggled against the soft drape, brushing her uninjured cheek against its cloudlike surface. "How come you get all the cool stuff?"
Hey, we paid a heavy price for all this swag, both in and out of character!
"...You saying Verschlengorge isn't cool?"
A fair rebuttal, our investment in intellect and charisma paying dividends. Maybe we're not as physically powerful as we could be, but the surrogate daughter deal we've got with Letrizia's fun. It does make me wonder about Ceathlynn, though, what that dynamic would've been like. Forsaken Mask lost and this
still could've been a parenting quest!
"You tell me, Praehihr." She stuck her tongue out.
Heh, she's literally calling us a tool.
"Rest." He patted her sternly on the head. "We've still got that blue swordsman to worry about. We'll stay at the lakeside for one day more to recuperate, then we need to decide on our next destination."
Staying where we were attacked seems risky, but if Bearic can port in from anywhere this location might not be worse than anywhere else. If we had Prolessarch, maybe we could try to mess with the navigation, drop him in a monster nest or something. Risky to try on a Gamer, but as anyone who's ever played an RPG knows, aggroing something with red question marks for a level's a bad idea. Not like he can respawn, right?
"Hm," Gisena came up from behind them, plopping herself down on his opposite side. "I've got a few ideas in mind!"
"Eavesdropping again?" He flicked a rose at her, which she dodged artfully.
Eh, Verschlengorge has many virtues, but eaves are not among them.
"When am I not?" She asked, stretching languidly. "You, who are within Nullity's regard, should not expect to escape it so easily!"
Abusing the sensory aspect of her Sorcerous enhancements, how entirely in-character of her. Accursed help us all once she's introduced to the concept of the surveillance state. She did overhear us spilling the beans to Letrizia too, but I can't blame her for worrying about Hunger, he's objectively suspicious.
"A shame," he replied. "And here I hoped we could steal away with the Armament before you noticed."
"And deprive yourself of mine august company?" She batted her eyelashes. "You can't fool me! You simply love my noble presence too much to go even a day without."
"And I thought Seralize was entitled," he observed. "I guess she can't compete with a Sorceress, and a noble lady at that."
Well, you know how it goes with the nobility. Literal entitlement leads inevitably to the metaphorical sort.
"Naturally," Gisena preened, flicking her hair. She turned up her nose to expose her elegant neck, a haughty expression that was distractingly convincing. "Though, I imagine she was simply a solipsist. Entitlement only takes you so far, after all. To believe your enemy had given up and would simply let you kill him..."
Well, Jotarun did believe she'd given up and would simply help him kill her countrymen in the other timeline. Was that naivety on his part, or did he calculate that her Dutiful actions would advance his own goals and that she could be disposed of at will later, her use expended?
"A testament to my acting skills, nothing more." He replied. "I did sympathize with her, to a degree. Many times we attacked the Tyrant only to be repelled with severe losses. I too would swear vengeance with blind sincerity..."
"Nonesense," Gisena shook her head. "Your Tyrant presumably lived up to his title. Whereas we haven't been bothering anyone!"
Hunger talking about his history's a not-insignificant gesture of trust. He's no longer the powerless corpse playing at being alive to whom the Accursed extended his offer, but if either Letrizia or Gisena should die... Rage doesn't need a Form to make itself known.
"There is Verschlengorge's Decimation," Letrizia said uncomfortably. "And his very existence is like a beacon in the Astral realm."
"That reminds me," he rose to his feet. It felt good, to be reasonably whole and free of wounds. Time to do that which he'd put off long enough. "Letrizia, if you're feeling able, I'd like to examine Verschlengorge today. We should investigate whether my Curse is in any way linked to his."
Just imagine how great it'll be to get your arm and eye back, man. Still, the investigation's long overdue, we just keep getting sidetracked by the need to survive... and fish.
"Mhm!" She chirped, slowly rising to her feet as well. "Of course I can do this much. Just who do you think I am?"
'Who the hell do you think I am?' Someone who's mixing her references, that's for sure.
"Don't know. But you do resemble... A certain redheaded pilot from a famous animated-"
"You!" She slapped his arm angrily. "H-hmph! Just get in the robot, Hunger!"
"Not helping your case," he smugly said.
It'll be interesting to see her interact with peers, though I imagine the prospect of Decimation drives a lot of them off. Might explain why she was deployed alone, if they don't customarily have it suppressed?
Wounded as Verschlengorge was, its internals were mostly intact, and Letrizia, sporting fresh bandages, pointed out various systems of interest as they walked. The cockpit was reasonably spacious, a comfortably reinforced pilot's chair in front of an array of futuristic panels. A good portion of the array was cracked and badly seared, though no longer smoldering, the flames having desisted overnight.
Behind was storage space for the pilot's personal effects: pictures of Letrizia's family, various books and instruction manuals, an ornate military saber and a small fold-out cot.
The small touches are important. Even with the damage, this place still feels cozy, like a home away from home. Who knows, her family might even still be alive? Some mecha pilots have to buck the trend, and Versch doesn't contain part of her mother's soul. The books are very Letrizia, can't have one's references far from hand! It's an oddly low-tech solution, but some people just prefer the feeling of reading dead-tree versions.
"You've both ridden with me in the cockpit, so I don't need to explain the basics. You've mostly seen me use the manual controls, but there's another control scheme that can be employed when the Armament's Rank is sufficiently restored."
She pointed at the constellation of runes that covered the ceiling of the cockpit. "Totality. Merger of self and consciousness with the Armament. A much smoother means of control, as Verschlengorge has tactical reflexes many times faster than those of humans. It also prevents injury to the pilot, as our bodies are transposed within the Armament's Astral shadow."
Useful, Bearic wouldn't have been able inflict those wounds. At the level these things were made to fight at, having a squishy human as a weak spot to be shot for massive damage's a crippling disadvantage.
"Hm. So the best way to learn any secrets, or unusual connections with the Armament-"
"Would be that, yes." Letrizia nodded. "I'm not sure how we'll actually pull it off, though. We need some way to heal Verschlengorge, and I don't think your ghost-light is up to the task."
Turns out that's not necessarily the case, but proper repairs will have to wait.
"And in the meantime, his Curse of Decimation..."
"Well," Letrizia temporized. "It's really not so bad for short durations, and the range should be low since he's so badly weakened... but, yes. It's active, unless there's an interaction with your Curse that I don't know about. Verschlengorge can sate its hunger by hunting powerful opponents, though it weakens him somewhat. It's in no state to do that right now."
We're more alike than you think, he mused, placing his hand on the Armament's control array. "So this cockpit is mostly human technology, but the ceiling is directly connected to the creature's flesh."
Yeah, the similarities are really stacking up. It's fun to consider what the other possibilities would've been like, Armaments built to interface with other Curses. The Plenary Brand sounds like a hell of drug, with its ever-increasing power, but keeping an Armament with that Curse operational over however many millennia would be challenging if it gets dogpiled in every battle. A Tyrant mech sounds terrifying and difficult to synchronize with. Slumber's not that bad, cleaves to conventional mecha anime tropes where war machines need infrastructural support and can't operate continuously. It would slow this trip down, though.
"That's right," Letrizia nodded. "The flesh and its runes are Foremost work. We don't understand it that well, to be honest."
Yeah, they're still pioneering the science of Astral Rank, I'll eat my hat if they can comprehend a civilization that weaponized Curses.
He raised his hand, tracing his fingers across the runes, watching as they flashed blue at his touch. Something compelled him to place his palm against the center, the sense of affinity intensifying rapidly...
He did so, and a rumble of movement rippled through Verschlengorge, every rune suddenly alive and flaring, again the icy blue that cut across sight like a knife-wound in the real, the stencil-pattern of their arrangement carved into his mind, into his soul -
This icy blue consistently crops up where Cursebearers are concerned, we first saw it when Seram's interface was being finalized. There's something fundamental about it, a glimpse through a gap in the firmament.
"Curse synchronization complete. Onwards, to the shining tomorrow. Welcome, Cursebearer."
I suddenly have a shitload of questions! 'Shining tomorrow' sounds an awful lot like the golden forever, Odyssial's promised victory. What were the Foremost trying to achieve? How many Cursebearers were involved in this endeavor? The Foremost's name no longer sounds like hubris, especially if they counted Cursebearers among their ranks. The question of their fate just became much more important. I did consider that the name was for a person, not a civilization, but Letrizia's dialogue indicates otherwise.
The sense of affinity had solidified, become almost like a tangible thread between them, an umbilical cord of the spirit that apprised him of their relative locations. He understood instinctively that the Armament's ownership had been transferred to him, that it would obey his commands without question, and that the Curse that afflicted it was no more, merged seamlessly into his own without any increase in effect, so long as the leash between them was unbroken. There was a limited range, but it was vast, more than a planet's worth.
That's convenient, we should've gotten in the robot earlier, spared our surroundings. It's been longer out of character than it has in it, so it's not that bad. Also, did we just accidentally commit grand theft Armament?
He narrowed his eyes. "The shining tomorrow...?"
Letrizia fidgeted. "You can understand it? A translation function built into your connection?"
"It's speaking in Foremost still?"
I imagine we could make a mint translating for scholars in the Human Sphere, everybody's going to want access to that function.
She nodded, eyes wide. "This is the most I've ever heard it say."
She's heard Verschlengorge talk before? Apart from the Armament acknowledging us? That sounds like a story.
"Letrizia is still your pilot," he said to the machine.
The creature responded, its booming voice rattling the cockpit in which they stood. "Of course. She is more skilled than you, and We like her."
It's good of Hunger to go out of the way to clarify this, and good of Verschlengorge to not require the clarification. The Cursebearer setup in general's way more wholesome than it could be, what with things like the Accursed policing Rivalrous behavior between the Geas-bound.
Interesting choice of pronoun too, could be anything from the royal we to a hint at being a hivemind. For a giant murder machine Verschlengorge is surprisingly relatable, we can even read weariness in his posture. That could be compatibility talking, but the battered hero and borderline-broken machine make for a dynamic duo. This update's definitely increased my interest in piloting
"Tell me what you know," he addressed the giant. "About Cursebearers, about the Foremost, the shining tomorrow. Tell me everything."
Hunger took the words right out of my mouth. This is
deep lore.
Inquiring minds want to know!
"Disclosure is restricted. We tire."
"Restricted to what? How do I qualify? Am I not a Cursebearer? What further is required?"
"Means of disclosure are restricted."
And with that, the runes lost their glow once more, and Verschlengorge went inert, speaking no more, no matter what was asked or how. The machine would still respond to manual commands, fighting as ably as ever, but the beast within was silent.
Well. At least they weren't being doubly decimated any more.
I was all set to dig into a buffet of exposition on my first pass through the update, then we ran face-first into the Foremost's infosec protocols. Fair enough, though, Hunger's barely found his feet. This is his first week on the force, there may be secrets contained in Verschlengorge's databanks that would literally be unsafe for him to know. Before all else, he must live and grow strong.
Synchronization Reaction Complete, 1508 words.