[Exalted] Ain’t No Devil

[ZerbanDaGreat]

You're overcomplicating this. Daji's going stir-crazy cooped up in your soulscape and they can blend in so why not just... go out? Actually see this place you're supposed to be serving as a Green Sun Prince. You've got time to kill and no rule keeping you cooped up in the Conventicle. Granted it means more opportunities to lose Daji but...

You let out a defeated sigh. "You wanna go explore Hell with me?"

They whip their head around like they just caught the scent of something juicy and unguarded. A pause, a moment's hesitation. Their eyes narrow dubiously. "You mean it?" they ask. "You're not making fun of me?"

"If you don't wanna go that's fine, no problem for me-" you say irritably.

"No no no I want to go don't you dare say I can't go!" Daji says hurriedly, practically flinging their diminutive body at you. Fuck you forgot how tiny they are, they only go up to your collarbone or so and it feels like having an overgrown gangly kitten clawing at you ineffectually. You grimace and place your gloved hand firmly on their head right between the fluffy fox ears, gently but firmly shoving them back.

"I don't ask shit for no reason, now come on before I realise what a bad fucking idea this is," you grumble. "And stay close, alright? If you run off and get into trouble I'm gonna hit you with a goddamn chair."

"So how far are we going?" Daji asks, barely even blinking at your staggeringly insincere threat. "Conventicle? Further? Oh, we haven't actually seen where the Third Circles live - do they live anywhere? If they live somewhere we should visit them! Maybe Vagya, bet he'd be happy to catch up with you."

"Hey hey hey slow down," you say, patting the air. "One step at a time, alright? Let's go get the lay of the land first." 'Because Sidir isn't around to answer this shit for me' goes unspoken, but you figure Daji can tell. They can always tell. "Now c'mon already, and remember, stay close-"

"Fine, dad," Daji says in a long-suffering tone, sandwiching your prosthetic hand between both of theirs. "I'll be your perfect little demon, promise."

"(H-hey we have to have a serious discussion about this 'dad' shit,)" you mutter, gingerly trying to tug your hand free on reflex. Daji holds on tight.

"Too late. It's non-negotiable now."

You get going rather than fight a losing battle.

The Conventicle is familiar territory, not many demons wandering the streets, but sure enough Daji's presence doesn't cause the stir it should. Citizens of Lilunu's grand city turn and wave and brightly thank you for your hard work and dedication to the cause, yet their eyes all but slide over the short fox-demon at your side as if they belong there. Even when you cross the threshold back into Malfeas proper, into the bigger crowds, still no commotion. The tension in your shoulders bleeds away bit by bit, and though holding hands with Daji is still slightly mortifying at least it makes it easier to keep track of them. Even if they tried to trick you with a doppelganger you'd probably notice - the two of you were lucky to have a moment when Ayano was completely blinded to pull the same switcheroo on her.

The night you fused. It's still on your mind. How could it not be? For just a few stolen moments you were someone else, someone new. Not just Jiro and not just Daji but... more. Even now it's hard to comprehend your own memories of the moment. Thinking about what comes next is harder. If Daji is a part of you then... what... is whatever you became 'more' you than you? Are you 'supposed' to be like that? Not even Sidir has the answers, and the more you think about it the more you doubt Lilunu will either. It makes you feel... fuck, hard to describe, like pins and needles up and down your spine, this crawling ache across your shoulders, around the base of your skull. Annoyed and frustrated and angry with nowhere to put it. Is your own soul telling you you're an incomplete freak? Wouldn't surprise you, it's just you're used to getting it from other people. Hearing it from the inside is a whole new-

"Daji- no, don't touch the fucking flesh-rivers."

"I wasn't gonna touch I wanna look!" Daji protests, pulling your arm taut as they strain to get closer to the aforementioned. Sure enough the gutters are full of these... fucked-up streams of shifting multicoloured flesh, not quite some amorphous slime but close enough to be even more repulsive.

"Look with your eyes, we talked about this!"

"Is this how the whole trip's gonna be-!?"

"Don't come crying to me if you lose a hand-!"

You relent in the end, and true to their word Daji doesn't touch it. The two of you simply crouch by the gutter and watch the strange boneless mass slither its way along. It seems to sense your presence, the pattern of undulation shifting, and you swear it even wiggles 'hello' when Daji greets it first. They head off again, seemingly satisfied, and you're left to be pulled along in their wake more confused than ever. You double-time it to take the lead again, and go searching for a less potentially deadly activity.

You settle on some kind of athletics stadium roughly hewn from rough black stone and solid spars of metal like the brass-boned carcass of some colossal beast. The seating is simple, benches cut straight from the rock fanning up and out from the rectangular pitch, and crowded shoulder to shoulder with demons of every shape and size enthusiastically cheering on their team - you suspect the ones around you are going extra hard to impress the Infernal, but you don't hold it against them. You're too busy staring with a certain sense of awe at the thirty-odd blood apes down on the field absolutely slamming into each other so hard you can hear the bone-cracking impacts even over the roar of the crowd. They're not even playing with a ball - well they are but instead of a stuffed leather thing it's some kind of membrane full of garish green fluid. You idly thought it was handy for keeping track in the melee until the first time it burst and showered acid all over the unfortunate players nearby. But the game went on, both teams undeterred, the many substitutes waiting in the wings more than eager to take their turn. You can't help but be impressed by how much fun they're having despite -okay maybe because of- all the greivous bodily harm. At some point someone presses something into your hand, a roasted chitinous slug wrapped in bread the colour of mold, but your first cautious bite rewards you with a stunning burst of hot juices and meaty flavour across your tongue. The bread somehow tastes like lamb and the offered drink that follows more soup than refreshment but whatever, you'll take it.

Time just seems to fly until the sharp cry of a whistle signals the end of the game. You think you're sitting with fans of the winners because they're cheering even louder than before - across the pitch you see a lot of spectators throwing everything they can get their hands on down at the players, so no prizes for guessing who they were backing. You're one of the first up, the crowd deferentially parting before you as you lead a strangely dizzy Daji back to the street and somewhat clearer air.

"You alright?" you ask.

"phew. Uh. Yeah, no I'm fine just... that was a lot." They fan themself with their sleeve, ears flicking. "I think I got a bit of a contact high from all those people. Or a lot. How do you stand it?"

"Well they were a bunch of loud bastards but you learn to tune out shit like that," you reply. "That game, though? I dunno how to even describe it, I mean I've seen some shit -been in some shit- but that was something else. Looked like they could've pulled each other's heads off and smiled the whole time. I think the guy was holding his guts in with one hand while he scored that last goal."

"Yes, well I appreciate the inherent irony for me to say this but it was a bit unnecessarily bloody for my tastes," Daji says, their lips twisted into a thoughtful squiggle. "But you're right, everyone was really having fun out there. Who knew even demons have to have fun sometimes, right?"

A crack about Sidir being a forever-fretting mother hen in demon's skin rises to your lips, a slight smile already forming. It crumbles away just as quickly, the moment passing. Doesn't feel right to give him shit behind his back, even as a joke, especially if he could be listening. Instead you lead Daji on deeper into Hell for more sights to see.

No matter how far you walk, the Demon City is ever-changing yet always the same. Towering buildings of basalt and brass, black-paved boulevards and narrow crooked alleyways, once-great architecture crumbling down only to be replaced by something even grander like a new tooth forcing out the old. You try not to look up and remember you're somehow, impossibly, clinging to the inside of a colossal sphere too much but when you do it's with increasing incredulity. How big is this fucking place, as big as Creation? As two of it? And there's supposed to be more layers hiding somewhere? You just hope retracing your steps to the Conventicle won't be too tough. You wouldn't put it past this place to outright change while your back is turned.

The two of you rest a moment at a crossroads, gentle music wafting over from an alcove. A long-haired demon that would be stunningly attractive if not for the too-many too-long too-jointed fingers on each hand sits against the wall, cradling a harp with countless strings. The sound is too rich and layered for an entire band let alone one performer, and with a soft falsetto voice it sings a subtly satisfied farewell and good riddance to all the troubles of the world. Daji seems delighted but something about the music seems to grate at you the longer you listen to it, like an ache in the ears and chest that won't go away. It stirs thoughts and feelings in you that you sure as shit don't want to deal with right now. Daji wants to stay and listen longer, but you bribe them with the promise of treats at the next place you can find some food.

You find a place a few blocks down, the harp-demon's melody a thankfully distant memory. It's a narrow hole-in-the-wall type thing, tightly-packed shelves of wares in claustrophobic aisles rather than any place to sit down and eat. You obediently walk Daji up and down each in turn, waiting for a point and a 'that one' or 'this one too' or 'ooh that', until the crook of your arm is full enough you can barely keep everything balanced as you return to the counter. The owner, a spindly six-armed thing wrapped tight in layers of cloth and veiled such that only a thin slit for the glowing green eyes remains, taps the counter insistently.

"Pay," comes the dry-throated demand.

You fully reach for your pocket before you remember two crucial details. One, you don't have pockets, you have the straps on your suit and the soulscape that for some reason is connected to your right hand. Two, and most importantly, you don't have money. You didn't even know this place had money, or just a barter system or what. Everyone's just been giving you free shit so far, you thought that came with the territory as an Infernal.

"Uh- so here's the thing-" you start.

"Pay," the demon insists, louder this time.

"Tell me what you want me to fucking pay with first!" you snap back.

"Marble!" the demon hisses like you're the moron for daring to ask such a stupid question. "Jade, marble of jade! Jade or blood, pay price in full!"

"Sure, I can do blood," Daji says. "How much?"

"Look I'm an Infernal so if there's credit shit I could-" you say at the same time, only to double-take. The demon's already pulling out a cracked crystal cup and thrusting it across the counter. "Hey, hey, maybe we talk about this before we go offering tall drinks of blood to strangers?"

"I'm a demon, it's not like I need all my blood," Daji says with a roll of their eyes, as if the other demon had asked for something no more unreasonable than breathing in the cup. They simply extend their free hand and let a murky mixture of bright scarlet blood and black ink flow from each clawed finger, quickly filling the cup almost to the brim. All you can do is gawp, equal parts shocked and irritated at how little input you had in the whole affair, as the demon greedily quaffs the offered payment. You only get a glimpse of the mouth behind the cloth wrappings, a nightmare maw of tentacular tongue and many grasping mandibles and far too many teeth. That part doesn't even make you blink any more. It's the fuckin' attitude when it shoos you away with your haul like a bad smell. You shoot the demon a dirty look as you escort Daji out. It seems to have already forgotten you were there.

Among the many surprisingly portable pieces of food and drink you found in there, a small bag of what look like dried pieces of sesoned seaweed catches your eye in particular.

You take a bite. It tastes like carrot.

"(Can one thing in this place taste fuckin' normal,)" you mutter to yourself.

It doesn' take much more walking before you finally find your answer to how everyone gets around this huge-ass place. You notice the massive causeways stretching and snaking out overhead first, the distant rumbling of something equally massive passing overhead. At Daji's urging you follow it back to some kind of waystation, stairs taking you up to the elevated level and a ticket counter (which waves you through at the first sign of your status), and after only a few minutes of sitting around with the other bored-looking demons on the platform eating snacks with Daji you get to see what made the rumbling noise too.

It's a worm. An absolutely gargantuan, wriggling, squirming worm covered in metallic carapace, no way of telling which way is forward until it starts moving. It must be the length of a damn street from end to end, a storey or two tall from belly to back, and on that back is something like an open-top carriage hewn straight into the beast's thick armour. All you have to do is step aboard like all the others, something Daji takes to with significantly more enthusiasm than you, and it's off with an uncomfortable muscular lurch. The two of you take a seat right by the edge and enjoy the view, the incomprehensible vastness of just one borough of the Demon City whipping by before and below you as the worm-thing picks up a startling amount of speed. You try to make sure not to look down or up, just generally straight-ahead while you will your stomach to settle down. You try to imagine more layers of a city, a world, this big and dense with life and you just can't. 'course Daji seems to be doing well enough for both of you.

"Hey, look at that one!" they call out, yanking you back to your senses. You follow their pointing claw to one gargantuan, continent-sized slab of Malfeas far in the distance. It's hard to properly judge the size from this far away but you guess it's like picking up the entire Blessed Isle and slapping it against a wall so hard it sticks - though size and shape are where the comparisons end. The chunk of Hell Daji indicates is more like a carved-open corpse than any other place you've unconsciously made that comparison yet. It's like some kind of exotic game animal, expertly butterflied open while it still lived, flayed down to the jagged bones and pulsing veins and quivering organs. You narrow your eyes and lean closer, as if that makes any damn difference.

"Is that...?"

"Elloge? I think it is!" Daji says excitedly. "Maybe? Or- I dunno maybe just a piece of her? Are all Yozi meant to be as big as Malfeas? They can't be, can they? Or else they wouldn't all fit inside."

"Cecelyne's plenty big and she's not even inside at all," you point out.

"Huh. Yeah." Daji rests their chin on their folded hands, still staring at the strange chunk of Hell. "Maybe it's just where some of Elloge's souls live? Or maybe it's bigger when you get there. Or- I guess trying to guess from here is a bit stupid. Not like anything about Yozi follows rules right?"

You shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine." Again the thought of asking Sidir for help rises. Again you push it down. If he doesn't wanna talk he doesn't wanna talk. You have Daji to focus on now.

The two of you get off at the first stop, unwilling to go shooting off to the far side of Malfeas without a map on your first day exploring. The station is on some kind of peninsula jutting off the 'edge' of the city in an impossible, gravity-defying curl of jagged stone. At the very tip of this jagged protrusion sits a spire that reminds you of a lighthouse, a black knife raised at the roof of Hell, except this knife has a circular viewing platform at the tip which gets Daji very excited. You dodge the stony kevastis-like demon just outside the station trying to hawk the finest curiosities of Cecelyne's desert and Szoreny's roots and lead Daji up and around and around and around the many steps to the top of the tower. It's there that you finally let go of their hand and allow them to drift further along the viewing platform, leaving you to grip the railing and watch the skies alone. You didn't climb that far yet somehow the green sun feels so much hotter and brighter, bright enough it's hard to squint past it and get a look at the 'roof' of the layer even with your changed eyes. Your gaze drops in search of a less painful target and you find it in the form of streaks of colour, squirming along like river-eels in the air, dancing and swirling in smears of inverted light, shedding bolts of black lightning all the while. Mrgh, the reminder of Sky puts a sour note to it all, but you can enjoy the distant spectacle regardless.

It takes a minute to realise Daji isn't being vocally awed any more. Not even some barely audible 'oohs' and 'aah's. You take a step back from the railing and turn to find them looking, not out at the same dancing lights as you but straight up. Up at the other side of the sphere high, high overhead. The place where the earth curves so far it becomes sky.

"What is it?" you ask.

"There's no sky," they murmur, strangely solemn.

"What?"

"Everywhere you look it's just more Malfeas. Even out in the desert, Cecelyne took away the sky," Daji goes on. "What d'you think it was like for Sidir, the first time he got to Creation? All the other times when he was in you and you looked up at the sky?" They pause for a moment. Thinking. "I wonder if it frightened him."

"Frightened him?" You turn to fully face Daji. "I don't understand."

"Sky's blue, isn't it?" Daji says, finally dropping their gaze to meet yours. "Cecelyne's forbidden colour. And he's old, who knows how old. All that time in here, just here, until the first time he saw the light of day with you." They look up again. "I'm just saying, Malfeas is meant to be a prison for the Yozi and their ilk, isn't it? You don't need me to tell you how being trapped in a cage changes you."

"... you're pretty perceptive, aren't you," you say quietly.

"Definitely got it from my Elloge side, skipped you completely."

"Hah. Brat." There's no malice. It washes over Daji like water. You fold your arms and shift your weight back. "Honestly at this point I don't even know who I'm dreading talking to more, Sidir again or whatever new gremlin crawls out of a hole in my soul and says it's part of me."

"Sidir's Sidir, not you. We'll only understand him when he decides he wants us to understand him," they reply. "But your next soul, who says you have to go in totally blind?"

"What d'you mean?" you ask, suddenly dubious. "Have you got some scheme up your sleeve?"

They roll their eyes. "Keep your armour on. I mean guessing. Self-reflecting? It's a thing you should be capable of now I'm here you to tell you it's something normal people do all the time."

"Oh shut up, don't act like any of this has been easy to understand," you grumble.

"Well?" Daji urges, blithely ignoring your belly-aching. "Come on, you must have a few ideas. Suggestions, even? A wish-list. Even a guess which one will come first, Isidoros or Ebon Dragon. Come on, even you have to be curious."

They're right, it's been in the back of your mind for a while now. Ever since Daji opened the door to the possibility, you've been waiting with bated breath for the next demonic toddler to blunder into your life and make everything three times as difficult. But maybe Daji has the right idea? Maybe if you really give it some thought, try to predict what parts of you might end up crystallising into a new demon, maybe you can take a decent shot at preparing and doing it right next time? At least make it harder to fuck up as bad as you already have.

[ ] Isidoros soul because... well, you like fighting. Lots. You really like fighting and you've only come to like fighting even more since you Exalted. Isidoros' power comes easy, almost second-nature. You think this one will be easier to get along with.
[ ] Isidoros soul because you're uh, well you're constantly seething with anger and frustration at everything in your life you can't immediately solve. Your ignoble attempt to flatten Shuzen with overwhelming force as the first name on your list is proof enough of that. Fuck, what if your next soul is even more bull-headed than you?
[ ] Ebon Dragon because you're a ghostblood. If Noh is any indication he loves people just like you, touched by death and shunned by the world and almost as at home in the underworld as you are topside, even moreso thanks to Sidir's work. Maybe you'll get a creepy little necromancer boy like Sky. Shit you hope not. That'd be a real punchable soul.
[ ] Ebon Dragon ███████ ███ ██████ ████ ████ ███████ ██████ ██ ███ ████ ████ ███ ████ ████ ██████ ████ ████ ██████ █ ██████ ████ ███ █████ ███ ███████ █████ ████ ██████ █████

 

[ZerbanDaGreat]

You give it some thought. Isidoros because you like fighting? Kinda obvious, but maybe too obvious. If there's one thing learning to deal with Daji has taught you, it's that there's no reason to assume this soul shit's ever gonna make it easy on you. So an Isidoros soul that's a stubborn piece of shit you'll have to fight over everything? Maybe, maybe. But there's the Ebon Dragon influence, so easily forgotten. You've had one foot in the grave since you were born and to hear Sidir tell it you've only gotten worse since you Exalted. Maybe there's something else, maybe that's why that place is in your-

You blink. You're staring out over the railing but you're not seeing anything. You're standing there next to Daji but you're not feeling anything. Your body feels numb, muted. You barely sense the rise and fall of your chest, the rush of air in your lungs. Your breath comes in slow sips, raspy, laboured.

You're cold. You're so cold you can't stand it. You're so cold that for the second time you can remember, you shiver. You think you raise your arms and hug yourself, clutch your arms tight. All you hear is wind and all you see is falling snow and your breath turning to mist and all you feel is-

someone standing behind you.

You whirl, hand jerking over your shoulder to grasp the hilt of your sword. Daji yelps and springs away from you. Your wide, wild eyes dart left and right, searching for the presence and finding nothing. All you see is your reflection in the curved glass, murky and backlit by the green sun. All you see is you. You screw your eyes shut tight and swallow.

"Sorry," you murmur. "Sorry, thought... could've sworn- nevermind." It takes a lot of effort to pry the emerald talons off your sword. Your heart's pounding like a drum, like you just ran all the way here at a dead sprint without even stopping to breathe. What the fuck's wrong with you?

"What happened?" Daji asks. "Are you okay?"

"I think we should head home now," you say quickly. "We've been out too long already, it's not safe."

"Don't dodge the question I asked you-"

"Daji." They flinch, just a little, and it's like a physical pain in your chest. You clench your jaw and screw your eyes shut, like you're trying to fight back a headache. You take a breath. It rattles a little on the way out. You open your eyes again and meet their gaze.

"Please."

Daji nods slightly. "Okay," they say softly, and shuffle to the other side of you. You're about to ask what they're doing when you feel their warm hands wrap around yours through the glove, clawed fingers lacing together with yours. "I remember the way we came, we'll retrace our steps?"

You reach over and gently, gingerly, pat them on the head. They squirm but not out of discomfort, the altogether foxlike whiney squeak they make in the back of their throat is proof enough of that. You're smiling a little, you think. It's an unfamiliar feeling so you'd need a mirror to be sure, but... it helps.

The way back is easier. Neither of you speak beyond the bare minimum. You hope the walk will clear your head but the fog lingers stubbornly, clinging to the cracks and grooves, every hidden nook and cranny. Your thoughts get lost in it, turned around, lose their way and trail off into oblivion. If it weren't for Daji holding your hand you wonder if you'd feel anything at all. It's only when you return to the Conventicle and the two of you are climbing the long, winding path up the hill to your mansion that your wits seem to return to you. You step out in front to push open the double doors and linger to close them behind Daji. Blessed, cavernous silence fills the foyer as the lock clicks and the two of you are finally alone.

You take a deep breath, still holding onto the handles as if reluctant to pull away and trust your own legs again. You half-turn to face Daji. "So," you say. "I uh- I hope that was what you were looking for. Or that you had fun. Or whatever."

Daji fiddles with their claws, long voluminous sleeves hanging so low their hands practically vanish. "I um. I really did have fun today, you know," they say haltingly. "I really liked getting to spend time with you like this. Thank you."

"Heh. Wasn't so bad for me either." You lapse into awkward silence, what you had planned to say to them wen you got home dying before it even reaches your lips much less threatening to be spoken aloud. You fiddle with the door handle slightly, working over the words in your head. "You know, you don't... have to go back in yet," you say. "Into the-" you gesture at your chest region "-whatever we call it."

"Soulscape," says Daji.

"Soulscape. I still don't want you going out without me but... I dunno. If it's just in the house it's alright. If you wanna. Stay out. Take a look around. Or anything."

Daji smiles. It makes your lips twitch up a little too. You barely recognise them compared to the haughty little shit-stirrer demon you first met on the road to Thousand Steps. You can barely name how it makes you feel. But if they're smiling it can't be that bad, can it?

"I actually wanna head back inside for a while if that's okay?" they ask. "Might as well check in on Sidir, make sure he didn't set fire to anything."

"Hah. Yeah good call."

You're both in unexplored territory here, but you figure what works for inanimate objects should work for souls too, so you stretch out your prosthetic arm and raise your hand palm-out toward Daji. They stretch out in kind, and at the slightest touch to the glowing emerald they just seem to discorporate into streams of blood and spirals of ink scribbling out alien words. In the blink of an eye they're drawn back into the depths of your soul and you're alone again.

<See you in the morning maybe?>

"See you in the morning," you say.

You get to finish that bath you started earlier. It doesn't help as much as it should. You sit there in the tub, near-scalding water still failing to bring any colour to your skin, and at times it feels like you aren't warming up at all. Again and again your thoughts return to that strange feeling on the lookout point, that indescribable chill that set your body trembling and your breath misting. Only the waters of the underworld have ever made you so cold before. You sink down deeper, drawing your arms in and hugging yourself again, only your head left above the surface as you will the water to please just warm you up. You stare up at the ceiling and all you can think of is the presence you felt, the shape in the glass. The shadow flitting through the ruins of your old home the first time you entered the soulscape.

"If I already have another soul, why won't you show yourself?" you murmur to the empty air. There's no answer waiting for you.

Your majordomo comes calling just as you get out and start towelling off. You let him in, modesty preserved by your armour as it clings to you in shadowy tatters, growing with each new patch of dry skin. As it turns out Lilunu has an unexpected free place in her schedule tomorrow morning - and only in the Conventicle do things like 'tomorrow' and 'morning' really mean much, as only Lilunu could ever dare dim the green sun's light without inviting retaliation, according to the majordomo anyway. You ask for an early wake-up call and head off to that huge, fancy, way-too-soft bed of yours to try and get some sleep.

You sleep like shit. Your head's this grey morass of thoughts that're too cloudy and sluggish to be legibile but moving too fast to ignore and sleep on. You toss and you turn trying to find a comfortable position and every time you move your stomach wound aches and drives sleep even further away. One minute you have too few blankets, the other too many. Fuck, you never thought you could be this prissy about a bed, you've literally slept in a hole in the ground and liked it. Maybe it's the green glow outside, even muted and barely filtering through the curtains now that the majordomo called your attention to it you can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about the way things work in Hell, period. It feels like you've barely managed to close your tired, aching eyes and drift away when you hear the demon in question knocking at your door, calling that you're two hours out from your appointment with Lilunu just like you wanted. You kind of want to throttle yourself.

You wash up again just to be sure - not like you know how bad you smell - and eat a light breakfast of steamed buns full of Whatever The Fuck the cook put in them. You say goodbye to the majordomo, dodge the neomah on the way out, and head off at a brisk walk down the hill to try and get the blood flowing again. Everything's taking too long to kick in, like it still thinks you're asleep, and now that it's finally happening your thoughts are swarming again. Will Lilunu be in a good mood? What happens if you catch her in a bad one? How the hell will she react to finding out you've been growing souls, let alone that you also have a Halphas problem to deal with? And past that, just at the back of your mind, you're thinking about the incident at the lookout. What if that happens again and Lilunu can't see it? What if it does and she can? You sigh irritably. Too many variables.

<Morning, boss.> Daji's voice is a welcome reprieve from the nightmare of being alone with your own thoughts. <I bring news from the big guy.>

"Hey Daji. Let's hear it."

<He's planning to come back in time to see Lilunu so he can properly participate - says she's responsible for coadjutors so it'd be incomprehensibly rude if he didn't - he just needs time to freshen up and straighten out for the big meeting.>

"Makes sense." There's still the matter of what his problem is that sent him running scared for the day in the first place, but that's definitely a discussion for later. "We'll be talking about you and this whole arrangement but it's important we... try to finesse this more than not at all. So I need you to wait until I call before you go jumping out-"

<Really. You're gonna lecture me about having any level of finesse?>

You make a noise halfway between a 'tch' and a laugh. "I can be considerate when I wanna be you little bastard," you say without venom. "Just haven't met many people who deserve it."

Daji fades into the background somewhere, maybe finding somewhere to lounge artfully in the 'command centre' of your soulscape. Your journey takes you to the foot of the colossal patchwork castle that is the heart of the Conventicle once more, stretching up and out in an almost interwoven pattern of architectural styles and materials. You plan to sit your ass outside until someone comes and gets you rather than chance wandering the labyrinthine halls unsupervised, so luckily the grounds are significantly more... sane in construction and aesthetic. You'd even go so far as to say they look nice, in that otherworldly, Hellish sort of way. The pools and ponds may be blood red and acid green but they're lined with flowerbeds of brilliant emerald and red-violet and black-veined brass so lustrous it's almost golden. There are trees everywhere, sculpted in impossible shapes like invisible hands guiding a flow of quicksilver, stretching toward the false sky with artfully-crooked roots rather than branches. There are even hedgerows with black leaves, rounded or squared off with the kind of precision you normally reserve for architecture, not gardening (you assume, not like you've ever owned a garden). If you didn't have someplace to be you'd be tempted to go wandering to see more of it. Instead your eyes do the wandering, skipping across the rolling landscaped sweep of the gardens over to the finely carved and lavishly decorated gazebo off in the corner-

where a shadow stands.

You're moving before you have time to think. You take off, arms pumping, legs coiling and springing as you leap over a hedge and land in a dead run. The shadow rabbits, darting left and hurtling through the silvery trees without a moment's hesitation.

<whoah what're you doing now, chasing squirrels!?> Daji exclaims, voice wavering as if your haste were sending the whole soulscape swaying.

"That thing's another soul," you hiss through gritted teeth, cutting the corner at the gazebo and careening off in the shadow's wake down the east gardens. You cross a slow-flowing stream of blood, the crimson wood footbridge audibly protesting as you thunder over. "He's been taunting me but I've got him the litte fuck."

<a-are you sure?> Daji asks. <I told you Sidir and I were alone, I looked everywhere and->

"It's him," you snap. "I saw him when I was there and I saw him watching now and I'll be damned if I let this shitstain get caught and ruin everything."

You think Daji says something about being careful but you're not paying attention. Your eyes are fixed squarely forward, at the next obstacle and at the shadow that flees forever one step ahead of you. It leads you along the side of the castle and out the back, across the grounds further than you knew they even went. Down a steep hill that grows steeper by the second, you half-slip and commit and just slide the rest of the way. You come up still running and spy the shadow ducking into a greenhouse, an immense and palatial complex in its own right, a work of art in its own right, all sheets of emerald cut thin as glass set in silver frames, exotic plants from all over Hell growing in neat rows within. The shadow stops inside, lets you get a slightly better look at it. Person-shaped you think, at least the outline, it's wreathed in a kind of black fog but you can tell that much. Isn't even looking at you, isn't even worried you'll catch up, and you can only imagine the stupid look on that piece of shit's face when you set your shoulder and plunge through-

You remember where you are and how stupid that would be just a hair's breadth before it'd be too late. You windmill your arms wildly, dig your heels in, and gouge two great furrows in the grassy earth skidding to a stop just before you go careening through the glass. You huff out a harsh, ragged breath of relief. It mists on the Greenhouse wall, crackling and condensing into frost like one big snowflake.

You snarl and duck toward the door. In the mere handful of seconds you take your eye off the shadow it practically vanishes, barely glimpsed headed deeper into the greenhouse. You wrench open the door you find - if it was locked it definitely isn't now - and barrel inside like a bull through a fine antiquities shop. The heat and humidity is oppressive, almost suffocating, but you barely notice with the trailing edges of the Shadow's (coat? cloak?) still in view. Left, right, around into a side room and down a set of stairs, you only belatedly notice that greenhouses probably aren't meant to be built like this once you descend the sixth loop of spiralling stairs down into the depths of the Conventicle.

<I really don't know if this is worth it!> Daji says, filling in for Sidir quite nicely. <We have an appointment to keep, remember? Just leave it alone and we'll ask->

You let out a snarl of satisfaction. You descend the last step and come to a long, narrow hall, surfaced in rough black stone on all four sides, leading to what looks like a glass-walled dead-end. The shadow stands at the far end, one hand on the glass, unmoving. You keep running, hurtling towards that mocking silhouette, stretching out your hand to grasp at its shoulder and demand answers-

The shadow turns to smoke. THUNK. You slam your brass shoulder into the glass wall full-force, rebounding and staggering back in surprise more than pain. Blinking owlishly and whirling around this way and that, hunting for any sign of the shadow. But there's nothing. Nothing but the room you're in, a simple stone-walled observation ring encircling some kind of enclosure. That glass must be tough as hell, you slammed into it like a battering ram and it doesn't even have a mark. As to what lies beyond...

Oh.

Shit.

What lies beyond is a dragon. A massive, maimed, mutant dragon like what you'd get from the fevered dreams of some demon-summoner. The beast is skinless, freshly flayed muscle glistening wetly in what little light there is down here, bare silver veins visibly twitching and pulsing with each beat of its great heart, spurs and flanges of blackened bone rising up from the shuddering skeins of hypersensitive meat like dozens of jagged knives, a crown of four horns twisting and branching from its brow like warped antlers. It looks like it went unfinished, or maybe some parts of it wasted away without flesh to protect them, and sleek machinery of breathless complexity created to replace what was lost. Swooping, polished curves and arcs of sapphire and translucent blue glass, lapis lazuli talons the size of boat hooks clawing and scratching and grasping at everything in reach. It's crying, weeping bitter tears of toxic green that sizzle and smoke as they burn blackened tracks down the vulnerable meat of its snout, where it drips onto its arms and underbelly. The wind swirls violently with each frantic flap of its great wings, so great they don't even fit in the enclosure, not all the way. The dragon's roaring, bellowing to the roof of its prison, screaming in complete soundlessness as the glass robs its cries of all strength.

What lies beyond is a dragon that just saw you because you slammed into the side of its cage like a fucking idiot. Its great green eye opens wide, the pupil a vertical slit harsh and sharp as a stab-wound, as its cries hitch. Just long enough, you assume, to process that there's something in the room it can take its anger out on before it twists to face yu and carves open the wall of its cell with one brutal swipe of its foreclaw.

"Shit-!" You throw yourself out of the way but it's a near thing, near enough that even if you don't get cut in half by the beast's talons you still feel like you've been sideswiped by an entire building. Glass as thick as your arm shatters into jagged shards the size of swords, tearing free of the stone frame in showers of rubble and debris, the seal breaks and all at once you're assaulted by the sheer fury and noise of the dragon's cries. It's like your skull is in a vice, like tentpegs being slowly driven in both ears, like your brain is pressing against the inside of your skull behind your eyes and it's hard to think let alone move. The dragon doesn't stop there, flailing madly in every direction, slashing and gouging and pulverising everywhere it can reach. It's all you can do to scramble to your feet and run, get ahead of the storm of scything talons. In that impact-addled moment it really does feel like a storm, like something too massive and powerful to even comprehend on your scale has decided to make it its personal mission to grind you into paste. There's so much dust in the air you can barely see, the ground shaking so hard beneath your feet it's all you can do to keep your balance.

Its talons descend and you only have a moment, one heartbeat to save yourself. You lift your sword and block it and it's like a mountain falling on you. You always thought you were strong now, that you could take care of pretty much anything. This is something else. This makes your bones shiver, makes your arms jerk and your sword nearly slip from your hands. One leg buckles. The other bows. It's all you can do to keep yourself up on one knee, to push back and fight with all the strength in your body.

Scarlet smoke and jet-black ink flows from your arm, curling over your sword and looping past one of the dragon's massive claws. You blink stupidly once or twice before the realisation hits, before you truly comprehend what a stupid thing Daji's doing. You manage a dry-throated "hey" but who knows if Daji can even hear you by then, sprinting up the dragon's arm like a bloody blur. The dragon's head lunges forward, biruficated jaws snapping shut like a steel trap, and your heart freezes. Daji's in the air, leaping artfully over the top of it, gathering their power and firing ribbons and streamers of scarlet and sable into the dragon's weeping, smoking face. The dragon recoils, bleeding sparkling mercury and hissing acid, jerking back just enough to let you slip out from under its indescribable weight, and its other hand instinctively rises to crush Daji against its skull like a fly. Again the demon makes a daring leap, sailing back across the enclosure and towards you as the dragon instead only manages to claw its own face.

If you thought it was screaming before, you hadn't heard anything yet. The dragon's thrashing only redoubles in fresh agony, clawing at the walls of its prison either side like a baby shaking its fist in helpless anger and misery. It's a sight as pitiable as it is bizarre but you've no time to ponder the finer points of it, you're too busy picking Daji up by the scruff of their robes and hurling them ahead of you, hurtling and leaping over the rubble and jagged chasms in the floor the demonic dragon left between you and the stairs. You're allowed only the briefest stab of hope before it's crushed again, crushed just like half the fucking room all around you by the skinless dragon dropping it's big fucking foreclaw on top of it and raking its talons through solid stone like soft earth. You yank Daji back just as quickly, turning to face the beast to ready for the next attack.

"What the fuck are you doing out here!?" you bark, raising your sword.

"Saving your life because you can't go five minutes without making someone want to kill you!" they retort.

"It's not my fault that- look out!"

You give them a hard shove that sends them sprawling and step towards them. It's not much, not enough to dodge, but you're more ready for it than last time. The dragon's claw descends and you swing to meet it. Sapphire keens and screams against brass as you divert the calamitous slash down and to the right, green embers dancing at your brow as Isidoros' power pulses in your veins. You step into the swing and follow through as the foreclaw fully descends and the earth shakes beneath your feet, spinning and raising your sword high for the retaliatory blow that hews this fucking dragon's hand off at the wrist so it'll think twice before-

"NO!"

A voice rings out, fear and shock and anguish and panic all mixed together into a potent cocktail of emotion that strikes your ear harder than any of the dragon's screams. You freeze in place, sword overhead and ready to fall, whip your head around toward the source. And you see her. You see Lilunu frozen mid-stride, stretching out her hand, pleading with you to stop. You stop, though it may be more out of shock and bewilderment as to why she cares about this insane rampaging monster so much than purehearted obedience.

Then you're backhanded for your trouble and you see nothing but stars for a minute there. You're launched into the wall a good distance away but you don't really perceive that part, just the absolutely mind-numbing hammer of pain to every single muscle and bone in your body then you blink and you're crumpled in a heap on the floor with Daji crouched beside you and shaking you. It's hard to breathe let alone speak, drawing in more stone dust than air every time you try. Eventually you let out a long, low groan, and plant your sword in the rubble (at least it didn't fucking break again), forcing yourself to rise at least high enough to see what's going on.

You see Lilunu, perched at the very edge of the ruined enclosure on what little unbroken chunks of floor are left. You see the dragon crouched down low to meet her, momentarily 'docile' for lack of a better word. She's cradling its jaws in her cupped hands, stroking the bare bone and soothing the dragon as it... sobs. Sucking in deep, hard, shuddery breaths like a child that only just finished bawling its eyes out, the burn scars still stark on its cheeks. The unfinished monstrosit gives a miserable sniffle, blinking blearily as its wide green eyes struggle to focus.

"it h-hu-hurts" it whimpers.

"Shh, shh. I know. I know." Lilunu's voice is soft yet strong, never wavering. If it weren't for the raw terror you saw etched across her face only moments before you'd think her unflappable. "You just ran out of your medicine, but we'll get you more, okay? You'll have more very soon, you've been so brave already."

Daji takes as much of your weight as they can, helps you rise as far as they can. Your own grunting and wincing finally, belatedly, draws Lilunu's attention from the dragon. That moment when your eyes lock seems to stretch on into eternity, a moment frozen in time as you both struggle to figure out what to say. There's a pain in her eyes almost as sharp as the dragon's, melancholy in her downcast face as her lips finally part to speak. But it's not her voice that rings out through the buried bunker, loud and booming and commanding.

"Throwing such a tantrum at a time like this?" comes the voice of Orabilis, echoing down the spiral stairs and along the cold stone corridor. "I am unhappy, Leviathan. Most unhappy."

If you thought you saw panic and terror in Lilunu's eyes before, it was nothing compared to what you see now. She whips her head around to gaze down the corridor, as if expecting to see him step into view that very second. She turns to the dragon, to Leviathan, already recoiling with fear of its own at the prospect of facing its seeming jailer's wrath. And then she turns to you, you and Daji, sitting there dusty and bedraggled in the rubble with no way out save past Orabilis.

"(I'm sorry,)" she whispers, and lurches away from Leviathan.

It's a whirlwind of movement and sound, of Leviathan's increasingly frightened and desperate screams as Lilunu rushes toward you. She slices away the solid stone beside you with a single gesture, carving out a doorway and a room beyond. She grabs you and Daji both by the scruff of the neck, hauling you upright and hurling you into the darkness beyond with ease no doubt born of desperation. It's no bigger than a cupboard or a wardrobe inside, the cramped space only growing more cramped as Lilunu dives into the shadows herself, and as she seals the doorway behind her the impromptu stone tomb is plunged into darkness. Only the ghostly green glow of your arm lights your prison, and the thick layer of stone does little to muffle the dragon's anguished cries.

"Why are-"

You don't get more than two words out. Lilunu thrusts out her hand arm and pins you against the far wall, smothering you with her gloved hand - and it's only now you realise it's no glove but iridescent carapace like some demonic insect, the clawed tips of her fingers digging painfully into the skin. She takes no chances with Daji, looping her other arm around them and pinning them against her body, hand over their mouth. The two of you exchange a shocked, questioning look. You lift your gaze but Lilunu's eyes aren't there to meet it. She's looking to the side, as if right through the solid rock, waiting with bated breath for what comes next.

There's no air. Even if there was, Lilunu isn't letting you draw it in. You're suffocating, that air-starved burn in your lungs slowly growing stronger and stronger, and by their uncomfortable squirming you figure Daji's not doing much better. The silence, the stillness, the muffled cries, it seems to go on forever as you wait and wait and wait for Orabilis to do whatever it is he came to do and get it over with. And it's only when your last nerve has frayed and you almost think he's given up and left that you finally hear it.

"It gives me no pleasure to discipline you. But disobedience has consequences."

You hear it. It's like a hundred blades all ramming home in quivering, bloody meat at once. You hear it, Leviathan's high-pitched scream of utter agony tapering off into a sickened whimper. You feel it as Lilunu recoils, flinching as if she were the one impaled, pressed into the corner of your shared tomb. She turns away from you, eyes screwed tightly shut. Tears glisten in the green glow of your arm as they roll down her cheeks. Outside it finally, mercifully, falls quiet.

"And only minutes before a formal appointment with one of our most... high-profile Green Sun Princes," Orabilis tut tuts, the pompous condescension worming its way through the layer of stone like a drill-bit. "One could only imagine the scandal were you to make a spectacle of yourself in public. But for now, it seems, you remain our little secret."

A moment's silence. You can almost imagine his cruel smile.

"Sleep well, little dragon."

Silence. Still, painful, agonising silence. You don't dare try to wriggle free and breathe. You're all still waiting, all still straining your ears. None of you can hear Orabilis' footsteps. None of you can hear Leviathan any more. How long are you stuck there, scared and suffocating? It's hard to tell. Time blurs. Your chest hurts. You think your vision starts to swim. There's something familiar about the sensation. The pulse-freezing fear of being discovered, that moving a muscle will give away the game, the curious cocktail of terror and tedium as you wonder when it will be safe to come out. You try to think back to how long the corridor was, how long it took you to cross it at a sprint, how long it'd take Orabilis to cross at a leisurely stroll when finally, at long last, Lilunu pulls her hands away. You and Daji slump forward, gasping for breath that won't come. Lilunu carves open the doorway once more and air floods your coffin, rushes into your lungs sweeter than ever. You stumble out into (relatively) fresh air and drag Daji aside with you, squatting down to check if they're alright.

Lilunu doesn't speak. She barely even moves. When you rise again she's standing at the edge of the enclosure, newly repaired as if Leviathan never broke free. She stands with one hand pressed against the glass, the other hanging listless by her side. She stands trembling slightly, helplessly. She stands staring down at the insensate form of the skinless hybrid dragon, pinned to the floor of its enclosure like some specimen to be dissected, muzzled by molten glass. Finally, mercifully, passed out from the pain. A murky green-silver pool of acid and quicksilver slowly spreads from its wounds.

"(You were never supposed to see me like this,)" she whispers.

You don't know how you didn't realise it sooner.

The pitiful, malformed thing imprisoned down here is as much a part of her is Daji is of you. And if you had difficulty accepting them when it was just you and Sidir dealing with it, you can scarcely begin to fucking imagine the pain and shame and sickening dread that Lilunu must be feeling right now. In that deathly silence even the sound of you swallowing seems deafening. That day in the underworld is flashing in your head, Daji's voice close to tears ringing out in your ears, Sidir's reserved judgement and your own festering self-loathing. You have to make it right. You have to do something. Say something. Now.

[ ] Let Daji speak. Anything they have to say is probably going to be more insightful, and definitely more eloquent, than you ever could come up with. You want their perspective.
[ ] Hold Daji back. The last thing you want is to look like you're hiding behind your soul. You chased the shadow down here. You provoked Leviathan. This is your responsibility.

[ ] Put your hand on her shoulder. Gently. Sometimes actions are better than words and- well it might be a long shot, you don't know if she's weird about being touched like you are. But if it makes her feel less alone then maybe it's worth the risk.
[ ] Tell her about Qiangong and Yanxiu. Gods and demons may be apples and oranges but those two had so much guilt and shame and self-loathing in them it's a wonder they didn't drown in it long before you arrived. You didn't think yourself much for heart-to-hearts then either. But you helped them. They even seemed grateful after it all. So at the very least it proves you aren't judgemental, hah.
[ ] Tell her about you and Daji. The good and the bad. That moment of deep, unsettling, nauseous uncertainty of who you were and who you were becoming. Daji may not have had the... condition Leviathan has but maybe, just maybe, the two of you can figure out how to manage your souls together.
[ ] Tell her about the shadow. A part of you you still can't name, a part that came before even Daji but still evades you, still refuses to be known. A part that, whether knowingly or unknowingly, led you here. Maybe that counts for something?
[ ] Tell her the one thing you've never told anyone else. What made you what you are and set you on the path that brought you here. Maybe then you can make her believe that you could never judge her for what you've seen.