Chapter 24: Aurora Borealis
"If I'd known the stars above intend to kill us, I wouldn't have flown into space."
- Unknown
---
After Daniel returned to his wits, it was a long period of convalescence and becoming used to his new Refraction. After a brief analysis of its capabilities, Nyarlathotep had dubbed it, 'the Refraction of a Hundred Discrepancies.' It sounded like a technique straight from Naruto and worked like one as well.
He'd been put into a room for psychological testing and therapy, and in three days, he was back to wandering the facility, if on probation - with a stern reprimand from the Commander to never freak out and jump into pools of eldritch goop again.
It was strange, being able to sense mistakes. There were certain micro-errors in the way people moved; small adjustments that could be made in every footstep to increase the efficiency of one's tread, maximizing the ratio of energy wasted per meter crossed. After becoming conscious of it, Daniel couldn't help but work hard at perfecting each of his motions, using the guidance of his sense for mistakes until he became something close to a ninja, able to skate and glide on the tip-toes of his feet. It also helped that he retained the vast majority of his power as a Great Old One, but with the mind of a human being.
The definitive source of grief and anger, though, was that he'd been temporarily pulled off of Evollie Squad, at least until Commander Whateley became confident again, that he knew what the fuck was going on in Daniel's mind. The dressing-down he'd been given was enough to inspire Daniel to not go AWOL ever again.
"I'm just glad you're back," Esmeralda said, as the Morphonauts ate lunch. Most of the people in the cafeteria stared at him, and more than a third of them were doing so with looks of icy anger or teeth-gritting hostility.
"Same," Walter said, grabbing a packet of ranch dressing and pouring some of it over his cutlet. "Although it was stupid to take Melissa hostage."
Daniel's cousin barely reacted, aside from a vague muttering of it being fine. She clearly didn't want to talk about it.
"I'm sorry," Daniel sighed out, again. "As I said, I wasn't myself."
"Yeah," Remington said. "But now you're a crazy-strong mage, right?"
"Something like that," Daniel said, locking his mouth tighter than a squeezed orange. Every reminder of magic was an equal reminder that somewhere out there, in space, or on Earth, or in another plane, his brother was slumbering and gathering strength, and every second was being wasted, not looking for him, and not powering up in turn.
"That's some dangerous thoughts you're having," Remington said with a smirk, even though his eyes were focused on his meal.
"You can read my mind, huh?"
"Something like that." Their team leader bit into his burger and pulled his mouth away to spit out a pickle, only to continue eating. He chewed for a few seconds, swallowed greedily, and then added, "After we installed the new tissue grafts from the big squid, I started to get a sense for how people think. A budding psionic, I am."
"I'd rather you not refer to my sibling as a big squid, Morphonaut," a shrill voice said from behind them, and the Morphonauts twisted and half-turned to observe as Hastur manifested in the space behind them. He was slightly different than before, with a face that looked almost like a mannequin's, with a mouth that actually moved as he spoke; most of his upper torso and head were porcelain-white, with red gauntlets ending in sharp talons and a yellow lower body. Most of it was chitinous, or at least some kind of exotic pseudo-organic plating. "It offends my sensibilities."
"Sorry," Remington apologized testingly.
Some of the people in the cafeteria had now turned their heads to stare at Hastur, with expressions ranging from suspicion to anger almost twice of what they'd felt for Daniel. The Commander strictly forbade any kind of instigation, however, so no one stood up or shouted anything rude.
"May I borrow you, Echo?" Hastur politely asked. "For a word or two, in private."
"I'd rather you call me Daniel, and sure," Daniel said. He took up one last scoop of his now-lukewarm spaghetti and ate it. Daniel no longer had to eat, really, but he found it comforting. He couldn't abandon food. After that, he stood up and muttered a 'see you later' to the group, as he and Hastur walked off into one of the chrome corridors of the facility, and once Hastur was satisfied with its remoteness, started talking.
"I wished to speak to you on the matter of resurrecting my brother," Hastur said.
"Well, I guess I'll do it as soon as the Commander lets me pilot again," Daniel said. "Believe me - I'm all for cooperation, still. It's just kind of hard when people don't trust me because I acted like a, well, uh..."
"A monster from beyond the stars," Hastur suggested.
"Yeah."
"It's understandable," Hastur said, pausing, and then looking up. His eyes were surprisingly human; a pair of white orbs, with black-yellow dots in the center. He'd even picked up the remarkably human trait of breathing in and out for punctuation in his speech, and sometimes, sighing. "I'll speak to the Commander about it, and maybe he'll make an exception, given the harsh reality of our circumstances. With Nyarlathotep once again with us, all we must do is find a way to sway Kthanid. And with your power, it should be possible to resurrect the Elder Gods. It would be the largest Alliance ever seen in our cosmos. The Elder Gods, the Great Old Ones, and the Scions of Man in union."
"It's a nice thought, I'll give you that," Daniel admitted.
"Have you thought about what happens after?"
Daniel blinked, not sure he understood the question. After what? After Zachariah was defeated?
"After?"
"After your brother is defeated, there won't be any physical incentive for Nyarlathotep and Kthanid to continue working together with us. I'll likely become a target, as will my siblings and compatriots," Hastur said, indicating vagueness with an exaggerated shrug. "The Elder Gods are going to side with them, and the question becomes apparent: Who does humanity support, in the ensuing conflict? You will no longer be the victims or enemies of either side, but you will have the freedom to choose."
"I feel like that's something that you should ask Whateley," Daniel said, not confident that he'd be able to predict how that would go. "And who knows? Maybe things will turn out alright. Maybe we won't fight each other?"
"You are going to ask Nyarlathotep and Kthanid to find a mote of forgiveness in their heart? Amusing. Perhaps impossible. But I'd considered finding myself humanity's friend to be impossible as well, in the past, and here we are."
They lapsed into a brief silence, after which Hastur said, "I think you'll be more relevant in the aftermath than you believe. I believe it will be your choice, who prevails and who dies. Or as the Commander would say, who lives, who dies-"
"Who tells your story, yes, yes," Daniel sighed deeply, unwinding, as he felt that a coiled spring had appeared, surrounding his spinal column. "Look, I don't know, okay? It's seriously up to Whateley, but I promise you that if I can somehow put my finger on the scales, I'll try to keep things from erupting into conflict."
"And if you can't?"
"Then we'll stop both sides. It's always been America's job to kick the asses of lesser nations who can't play nice," Daniel said, quoting the Commander on the latter part.
Hastur chuckled. "How arrogant. Already, you proclaim us to be lesser." The Great Old One theatrically placed a finger on his chin, tapping in a gentle rhythm. "Well, I do have an idea as to how to ensure my species' longevity."
"Hastur, please, don't make me marry your niece," Daniel begged comically. "I'm too innocent for so many tentacles." Also, she's nowhere near as nice and human-like as you, so I'm pretty sure she'd eat me, or sit on me and crush me like a bug or something.
After a second, Daniel backtracked.
Well, she wouldn't crush me. I'm probably bulletproof at this point.
"That's my Plan B."
Daniel found himself frowning, making a face. His suspicion was intermixed with curiosity. "And Plan A?"
"You'll find out, if it comes to it. I will say, however, that I'd rather have peace with the Elders. There's been quite enough war in this cosmos, so far. I tire of it, almost as much as your Commander," Hastur said, and then, almost wistfully. "I used to guide shepherds, you know? Before some nasty human prophet roped me into this game of playing god. And then I accepted sacrifices, and I became the Unspeakable, and to protect my reputation, I had to fight. But I used to guide shepherds..."
"And shepherds guide sheep," Daniel said. "So why don't you go find some fluffy animals to take care of, in your retirement?"
"Ah, yes." Hastur seemed smugly amused. "You'll have me act like a human for a few years, as my part of the compact, won't you?"
Daniel smirked mischievously. "We'll see." His phone buzzed. "Oh, I gotta go. Therapy appointment."
"Don't eat the therapist, Daniel."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, boomer," he said, as he stomped off, maintaining a completely perfect and efficient balance of motion.
---
For the next month, nothing much of note happened. Daniel continued to attend his therapy and socialize, re-integrating himself in his team, and once again earning the Morphonaut Division's trust. It was an open secret at that point that he was the scion of some kind of eldritch Outer God or its avatar, and lots of theories flew around. Some of the female staff - mostly interns, a year or two older than him, started to flirt and make moves, oddly enough. He could not wrap his head around how being an accursed, otherworldly mutated eldritch god in a flimsy human disguise was attractive, but apparently, it was.
Or maybe they were after the tentacles. He could sprout all kinds of creative growths now.
From time to time, the inconspicuous Commander Scrivner - secretly, Nyarlathotep of the Outer Hierarchy - called on him, into one of the laboratories, where Daniel met another of his cousins, Bruce, and some of his co-workers and all of them would do science together. Mostly, Daniel worked as their lab assistant and on-staff magician, casting spells, making runic diagrams, or calling up spirits and creatures from outer space for them. They didn't do any proper science until almost two months in, when Nyarlathotep started to tutor Daniel on the proper use of dream-based chemistry.
It was making him feel all kinds of idiotic that Dr. Scrivner, the woman he'd found so attractive, was the daughter of one of the chief antagonists of Shin Megami Tensei. And she was now his co-worker. Ugh.
"So, how am I supposed to pour this?" Daniel asked, holding the vials in his latex-covered hands with a nervous frown.
"You don't," Bruce instructed, slightly amused. "If you do it raw, it'll explode. You need a stabilizing agent."
"Which is?" Daniel asked, gently placing the less unstable of the chemicals down on the countertop in front of him.
"Well, in the case of what you're making, it'll have to be a persistent radial scavenger," Bruce patiently explained and then pointed at a cabinet in the corner of the laboratory, set on top of a thick counter with large drawers. "Do you see that cabinet? It has all chemicals from the alkylphenol family. Go wild."
"Yeah, but which one do I use?" Daniel asked with an amount of exasperation, while Adam observed their shenanigans.
"Are you making polyethylene?" Bruce asked.
"You mean plastic?"
"It is a form of plastic," Adam helpfully added from the sidelines. "If you're doing polyethylene, you'll need a hindered amine light stabilizer. Or HALS."
Daniel felt dumbstruck as realization dawned over him, the fugue of making plastic chemicals suddenly lowering to the point of him regaining most of his clarity. "Oh, wait, I prepared some of that earlier. There's, um, not going to be any side reactions, right?"
"No, unless you add trinitrotoluene," Bruce said, and in the short time he'd known him, Daniel learned that his cousin had several types of monotone voices; this one, in particular, indicated that he was joking or being humorous.
"Which one's that?"
"TNT."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Adam said. "Don't put explosives in your plastic, kid."
"...Wouldn't that be C4?"
Marjorie groaned from another corner of the room. All three of the boys laughed.
---
And as the third month approached, Daniel was finally allowed back into his Oneirodyne, to the whimpering of Melissa, who'd been placed temporarily in another unit. Resurrecting the dead Cthulhu and some of Nyarlathotep's key past allies, such as Nodens, were rather easily approached. He'd also started to do work on creating a secondary unit, almost identical to Euphony in terms of structure and key matter grafts (since he could simply use his own skin for it.)
The Dreamlands were now a prospering metropolis, which the Kings of the various assorted domains and nations agreed, in the official signing of the Alliance Treaty, to declare the United States of Dream. The USD was now a semi-official nation, and the biggest one since the collapse of human infrastructure back on Earth. Both of the realms were being constructed up and reconstructed from almost nothing, respectively, with a quasi-thriving portal economy and citizens ranging from Xothian traders to ordinary humans. It was about as cosmopolitan as some of the space opera settings that Daniel had read about, or watched as movies.
Esmeralda batted at the foot of a Nightgaunt, and the creature shrieked and flew away. She stood there, chest puffed out, looking smug, as Daniel stared at her from the banister on the side of the meeting room's stairs.
"Aren't you kind of a bit too old for schoolyard bullying?"
"Whatever."
Ahead of them, Whateley concluded his threat assessment speech about Zachariah, and the Morphonaut workers dispersed, for the most part. The Commander approached Daniel in particular, with the rest of Squad Evollie in tow, and then said, "Normally, Daniel, I would've said now is the time for you to go through the door and reach for the secret power you'd been born with, but given that you've already done that with speedy haste and frankly reckless abandon, I believe that would be a bit redundant."
"And extremely dangerous," Remington said.
"Morally dubious," Maggie added.
"Ethically disgusting," Walter said.
"Honestly, kind of freaky," added Lazara, the pilot of Oneirodyne Avalanche.
"Not to mention a dick move, after all we did to cure you," Melissa said at last.
"Now, now," Whateley calmed them down with a hand. "That was mostly Kitten's work. That all being said-"
"And rather brutally hammered in," Daniel interjected.
"-I know that your powers include some means of divination. Kitten and I have prepared a scrying schema-plan for you to follow." He handed Daniel a note of paper. "We have all the permissions, battle-station readiness, and manpower we need. Never again will there be a better time to strike against the Black Oneirodyne."
Assuming it's not already stronger than us.
"Alright. I'll scry for it. Can you set up a ritual space for me?" Daniel requested.
"I already did it, nerd," Maggie stated. "Don't forget I'm magic, too. Although I'm not confident with our chances against your brother. I've seen him in action before, in a dream, and he's a complete badass."
"Yeah, I saw him in action, too," Walter interrupted. "He took off my fucking fingers, Maggie. We know what he's capable of."
"You really don't," she said, a nagging insistence in her voice, a little bit of annoyance. "He was weaker, in Innsmouth. If we're going to fight him at his full strength, well... I'm not too confident. Sorry. I know you want to survive." She looked at Daniel.
"No shit," Daniel said. "I know it'll be hard, but none of us have much of a choice."
"Other than to kill you, of course," Frank said, having not otherwise piped up for the entire conversation.
"Even if we did, that carries its own risks," Hastur stated, sliding into the room from a doorway. "There is a reason I was so hesitant - nay, I even daresay, that I was so cowardly as to approach matters indirectly. Daniel's death would be an invitation for the rest of Tru'nembra to, in part, invade on our reality. The consequences, at least locally, might be harsh to say the least. And I have a reason to believe the effects might spread via ontological, rather than physical distance."
"Great, so I'm a ticking nuke as well."
"Go and scry. The sooner I kick your brother's teeth into his face, the sooner we can be done with our jobs and live in relative peace and quiet," the Commander ordered, with a curt flick of the hand. "Dismissed."
All of Evollie saluted once with semi-professional aplomb, looking almost like grown soldiers rather than teenagers thrown into an uncomfortable situation, and then dispersed as per Whateley's orders.
---
We're in the endgame now. I expect the Quest to end fully within the next 3-6 updates, depending on the players' actions.
Now, then - as Daniel scried, his mind opened itself to several possibilities...
[ ] The False Mirror - There was something; a sort of discrepancy floating around, somewhere on Earth, close to the east coast of the United States. It felt almost like a mutated and strange, faint mirror reflection of Daniel's own self, like his own echo-ghost, but altered: a figment of falsehood rendered into truth, and near it, the insight of dreams and stranger things floated around like a speck of ontological and godly power. It definitely had to be Zachariah - what else, than the scion of Azathoth, would have such a connection to Daniel and Dreams simultaneously?
[ ] The Core of Darkness - Out in space, on the planet of Yuggoth, there was a core of darkness, embedded in a cavern hidden somewhere deep in the planet. It radiated the same wan and casual evil that the Black Oneirodyne had, but there was something else to it. A muteness, as if its emanations were forced to go through a pipe of insulation, rather than through clear space. It must have been Zachariah, sitting there in hiding, attempting to conceal himself, and recuperating. It was smart to go to another planet, but he was not subtle enough to hide from Daniel...
[ ] The Forest In Space - Some kind of spatial anomaly. There was a meteor chain, near the system of Xoth, in which a number of crystalline-diamond pine trees had sprouted from the meteors. The interior of the Forest had recently obtained qualities it hadn't before - it shrieked with the ancient and regal power of dream and wonder, and the natural splendor of the world. It felt almost like an idyllic and distaff version of Earth on first look, and it made sense, to a degree. If the argument was that Azathoth's Dream had become a Nightmare, it only made sense that Zachariah would create something that felt like Heaven...
[ ] Elsewhere - Maybe there are other places to look? Places more obvious and close to the heart? [Write-in]
