The tenth time she descends had come.
It was not her tenth target.
Nor was it her hundredth.
Or her thousandth.
Study, analyze, implement.
There was a singular purpose for her activation; to war with her creator.
Canberra did not hold a particular reason to be attacked, rather it was an opportunity to create ripples without a stone.
In a way, that made it the most confounding for the subjects.
What made her true targets so hard for them to identify is that she truly did nothing to them physically; their brains weren't modified, their memories untouched. No part of her song had actually touched them. She had merely set up the dominoes for later; a single tweak elsewhere is what set off the chain.
Units of time did not matter much to her.
A push, a nudge, a shove.
She approached over the sparsely populated land.
There were a negligible points of interest.
She came to a rest atop a war memorial. A singular foot nearly grazing it.
Seven minutes ago, her attentions had become clear.
Three minutes ago the defenders had started to gather.
Fifteen seconds ago her nemesis had arrived.
Seventeen different subjects currently attempt to impede her.
Her creator is throwing a palm up, and she must tilt a building to adjust a beam shot from one of his compatriots to foul it up. She does not move as none of the other subjects are able to get close enough to get an unmolested attack at her.
She will send one hundred and fifty five rocks at the subject that will surge out of the forcefields. It will result in the eighth death of the gathering.
In two minutes, most of the subjects will be forced back as their armbands will tell them as such. Without the cover that is provided by the one creating forcefields, the ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth. subjects will become deceased.
In six minutes the third lines of defenders will break before the fourth line can arrive. She will then move to her next point of saturation.
In seven minutes the first clash with her creator should have ended.
This she didn't know for a fact. She was blind to him, only ever able to see his actions as ripples the stone left. Yet she knew him. Knew that he would step in. An eighty seven percent likelihood within the first minute of contact.
Seventy-one percent he would be forced to retreat after ten minutes.
Her ongoing construction would force him back.
She is mostly sure.
She can only postulate and theorize on what he will do.
In a hundred and eighty seven minutes the evacuation would be considered complete. The subjects opposing her would then withdraw. That was how long of a window she had to push him.
It was not joy, nor happiness, but perhaps the closest thing to satisfaction she could get was observing the chaos he created. The more desperate each gathering made him, the wilder he became in the intervening segments.
Each act, every step he made rustled the wind around him, cascading in ways that changed the smallest and the largest.
There was nau-
Something appeared.
It had not appeared in the future, until now.
Nor the past.
There were no disruptions to her pretercognition.
It just appeared in the past, standing beneath her.
It was the facsimile of a man, yet it was not, for a man could not be it's shape or size… or velocity.
She observed a quarter ton of meat and sinew slammed into her in the past and for a bladed-club that she couldn't determine
what it was slam into her with enough force to ruffle the trees a mile away.
This was new.
Unexpected.
Her creator's hand was not part of this. High certainty.
The other blind-spot was similarly most likely not the cause; it was half a hemisphere away. High certainty.
The Eye's host had stopped it's motion. The fleshcrafter stared at her in askance. High to middling certainty.
Similarly, the others around her viewed it's appearance with surprise.
It was not a hitherto unknown force that the creator's organization had made.
It's past ended with it's appearance in Canberra.
It's future end here.
It's mind is completely incomprehensible to her senses.
It is not like a blindspot.
It is not akin to having insufficient authority to interact with it.
It was labyrinthine, fracturing into a puzzle that changed every pulse she sent out.
A puzzle that she could not interact with.
This was an aberration.
It followed the path that she saw, raining blows upon her with one arm while the other latched onto her throat.
Perhaps not a true aberration.
The first strike had shattered a dozen layers. The next strike bit into another five layers.
Chunks of concrete, three hundred thousand, six hundred and twenty two, varying from the size of an automobile to that of a thread pulled from a parking lot.
They had no effect; they shattered and turned into dust as she grounded them against it.
The other subjects had not stopped their attempts. Nor had she forgotten them.
The ninth died as a crossing sign embedded into her throat, causing the subject to break into two.
The aberration had broken the thirty first layer.
Ichor flowed down it's porcelain exterior.
It was not pride, for she did not hold any, but there was a level of respect she held.
This impugned upon it.
A rock shifted, a building fractured, a tire turned.
A thousand adjustments. Made in parallel. Models for the future changed.
She turned, her creator's attack causing the aberration to implode in an explosion of red-hot visceral, obscuring her as she repositione-
The past and the future disagreed.
The aberration had moved a quarter foot to the right.
Her creator's attack had missed.
Thirty-fifth layer had been breached.
A shift. Five tilts. Fourteen mirror fragments shine.
A concentrated blast from the creator's associate aggregated with another's. The beams collimated, gaining detritus that was tinged with a grey that made its volume decrease.
The aberration's lower torso is vapourized into dust, a rot spreading-
Her precognition changed to align with her postcognition as the moment passes.
The beam had no effect on the aberration.
Thirty-eighth layer has been damaged.
Direct action was required.
Wings move in a blinding speed. She is unable to feel any feedback as the future showed it's right arm coming off. It was with it's second wing, moving in the shadow of it's first that rips through it's chest-
The first wing was dodged before it touched; the aberration using her hair to move.
Her hair flickered in it's grasp, losing any of the tensile strength it had, dropping the aberration.
The future agrees with the past after the present happens.
She swatted the aberration with a billboard advertisement with perhaps a mite more force than what was required. The resulting hit broke the sound barrier thrice over as the aberration left the postal code.
In forty three seconds it would reappear.
She had fallen behind on her schedule.
Plans were adjusted.
The second wave of subjects were running close to their time limit.
The one throwing darts of frozen water had her flesh rended from her by a two foot section of gravel.
A young male holding a forcefield as a shield fell, the ground adjusting under his weight and putting him in direct line to a shot that reduced him to a pair of legs.
Another spewing molten rock did not survive the cover crushing her into a singular square meter of space.
And another.
And another.
And another.
And another.
In eleven seconds, as many had fallen.
Thirty one seconds until the aberration returned.
Her mind was only by the slimmest estimation similar to her creator's.
Her focus was not limited to a singular act.
Administrative computers ordered themselves into component parts.
Copper. Silicon. Hafnium. Tantalum. Palladium.
Pieces that p░redate the arrival move.
Areoplanes realign.
In the whirl of detr░itus making up the barrier, iconography dip into view.
The first subject was b░eing primed.
The second subjec░t has alr░eady been primed.
The third, fourth, f░ive and si░xth subje░cts have yet to arrive.
The fourt░h wave o░f subjects arriv░e.
For the first time in her existence, she feels something.
In the present.
It is not through the physical aesthetics that she adopts.
It overlays with her pretercognition, it's wavelength mixing and melding, the frequency to leave it's orderly functions.
Each hundredth of a second wave she sends out is affected.
The faulty return pings have feeling to them.
The past deadens and brightens.
The future catches and jumps in twitches.
The future changes.
In a t░░▒▒▒enth of a seco▒▒▒nd the aberr▒▒▒▒ation arrives.
She piro▒▒▓▓▓uettes, it's velocity send▓▓▓▓ing it further, at ▓▓near suborbital-esc▓▓▓▓ape-
The future changes.
The a▓▓▓▓ber▓▓▓▓▓ration s▓▓▓▓▓▓▓tops d▓▓▓ead in th▓▓▓▓e air.
It is her tha▓▓▓▓t was se▒▒▒▒nt away, bu▒▒▒▒▒rrowing into the gro▒▒▒und and in▒░to the r░░iver.
The aberration is the cause of it. High certainty.
The construction underneath the dome widens.
She tilts to avoi░░d next st░rike.
The abe░rration glow▒▒s red.
She changes her frequency to match the carillon on the nearest island.
Constructive interference fails until the fourth pulse.
It misses.
The subjects start t░o retreat.
Three of her wings thru░st at it in a way that c░an not be dodged, hemming it back-
The future changes.
It grabb░ed on░e of her w░ings.
She twis░ts the win░g t░o shred i░t's ha▒nd.
The aberr▒ation's ha▒nd is mangled into a ru▒in.
The cr▒eat▒or do▒es a gest▒ure.
A wi░ng glows pink befo░re turn░ing purple.
She pivots, causing the aberr░ation's inte░rnals to melt in░to g-
The future changes.
It's sha░rpened cl░ub sla░░m░░s into her fa░▒ce, dent▒ing her nose, physic▒ally pushing her out of t░he air and into th░e water.
The cannon und░░erneath th░e dome fires.
The future changes.
The sho░t deflec░ts off it's cl░ub and burns feathers off a wing.
The second sh░ot from anot░h░er blew a vo░░lleyball sized hole in░▒to the aberra▒tion's knee.
It does not slo▒w down h▒is vault int▒o the w▒ater.
T▒he forc▒e of the i▒mpact caus▒ed the river░bed to appear a░s she ascended.
She found a pattern.
Six shots fi░red from the crac░ked dome.
The future changes.
Three m░issed.
Two h░it the aberrat░ion and did
nothing.
One was m░et with it's club, slic░░ing the beam in twain.
She came to a rest over the carillon.
The black attir░ed subject tried to hit her at mach six.
The attempt aborted when a new salvo ca░me from the dome.
Her constructs came strea░ming out from their foundry.
The aberration s▓▓▓cre▓▓▓▓am▓▓▓ed a▓▓▓t▓▓ h▓▓▓e▓r▓.
Timelines, probabilities, the future, the past… fidelity was lost by forty-three percent.
This aberration would not survive this fight.
A fu▓si▓ll▓▓ade o▓f sev▓en▓▓te▓▓en a▓▓nswe▓re▓d i▓▓▓t.
The s▓▓▓al▓▓▓▒vo ri-
The future changes.
Two c▒aus▒▒ed da▒mage; a pinpr▒ick in the upper abdom▒inal that went the whole wa▒y through and a go▒lf ball sized hole takin▒g off a toe.
In ret▒▒urn it had clo▒▒sed the dista▒▒nce.
It's ruined hand had half h▒ealed as it grab░b░ed h░er foo░t an░d y░░anked her from her p░erch, deepenin░g the r░iver c░hannel by six m▒eters with he▒r body.
Wings created a whirlwind.
The aber▒ration moved fas▒ter than base▒line humans could re▒gister.
Thirty-ei▒ght fired.
It was not enough.
Fif▒ty-three f▒ired.
The aber░ration was down twenty-eig░ht percent of it's bodi░ly volu░me.
The cre░ator said something.
Nineteen a░ttacks cam░e in. Only four w░ere relevant. H░er armoury would m░eet them in mi░d-air.
Sh░e advances up▒on the aber▒▒ration, he▒r arse▒nal orbiti▒ng t▒he▒m as t▒hey me▒t.
Sla▒sh. Twis▒t. Stab. Sw▒ing. Lunge. Fir▒e. Def▒▒lect. Defl▒ect. Fir▒e.
What she had come to realize was that the aberration only caused the future and past to change when put in lethal danger.
St▒ab. Stab. Fi▒re. Whirl. A▒scend. Slash. F▒ire. Fire. Fire.
There were deviations, but small enough that she could account for them as long as she avoided lethal harm.
Fire. Sla░sh. St░ab. Tw░ist. Deflect. Slas░h. Stab. Fire. Desce░nd. Fire.
Taking that into account, it was not hard for her to put the aberration on the back foot.
Sidestep. Fi░re. Whirl. Fire. Sl░ash. Slash. Sli░ce. Deflect. C░ut. Lacerate.
The harder part was making every missed shot push off the creator's group.
Fire. Wh░irl. Whirl. Slash. Deflect. S░tab. Man░gle. Fire. Fire.
Even then she was having to augment it with subtle tweaks.
Stab. Fi░re. Defle░ct. Split. Fire. Sl░it. Rip. Rip. Mangle. Rive.
Increasing the noticeable part of her impulses was making them wary.
Cleave. Fire. H░ack. Slash. Cle░ave. Carve. Slash. Whirl.
Without the disruptions, the aberration was merely physically strong.
Rend. Rive. Fire. Break. De░flect. Rive. Carve. Reduce. Dissect.
The disruptions are the only danger it could pose.
Pierce.
Each of the aberration's limbs are separa░ted into segments, each skewered on a wing.
The torso with gleaming eyes stared balefully at her as she held it's h░eart in her hand.
Curiously, it still lived.
She crushed the still beating organ before se░parating it's head from it's body.
The accursed noise finally ended.
The past. The future. All were clear once more.
Like a cat, she shook herself, ridding herself of the visceral that clung to her physical aesthetics.
She no longer felt the present.
Her physical body was pure white once more.
She lazily tilted to face her creator.
Not a single splotch dotted her.
She smiled.
That was the exact moment everything fell apart.
The future changed.
With an explo░sion of in░░terfer░░ence, the abe▒▒rr▒ation du▒▒g the t▒ip of its w▒ea▒▒po▒n forty-o▒ne lay▒ers de▓ep in▓▓to he▓r tors▓o.
How?
She was done doing this handicapped.
Sixte▓▓en win▓gs to▓▓re o▓f▓f it's lim▓bs bef▓o▓r▓e a fu▓sil▓lade reduc▓▓ed the aber▓rat▓io▓▓n do▓▓wn to t▓▓he ato▓▓mic le-
H▓er fl▓esh fa▓▓il▓ed to har▓▓m the ab▓er▓ra▓ti▓on as ev▓ery s▓h▓ot disa▓▓ppea▓▓▓red up▓o▓n h▓itti▓ng it, l▓ea▓vin▓g it un▓ma▓rred.
Sh▓▓e fli▓tted bac▓▓kw▓ar▓▓ds.
The aber▓ra▓tion di▓▓d n▓ot l▓et h▓e▓r c▓▓re▓a▓te dist▓▓an▓c▓e.
Sh▓▓▓e a▓▓sc▓▓e▓n▓d▓ed.
I▓t g▓▓rabb▓ed on▓e o▓f her w▓▓in▓gs w▓ith bo▓▓th h▓▓ands, dr▓▓▓o▓pp▓ing it▓s w▓ea▓po▓▓n.
What was the purpose?
Pla▓nti▓ng b▓oth o▓f i▓ts fe▓e▓▓t o▓n h▓▓▓▓er b▓▓▓ac▓▓▓▓▓k, i▓▓▓▓t pu▓▓▓▓lle▓▓▓▓d.
She had mapped its strength. She knew the aberration's limits. It could n-
The future dimmed.
Th▓▓ere wa▓▓▓▓▓s n▓▓▓o rec▓▓▓▓▓alc▓▓▓▓ulat▓▓▓▓▓ing th▓▓▓▓▓▓e to▓▓▓-b▓▓▓e, i▓▓▓▓t me▓▓▓r▓▓▓ely d▓▓▓▓arke▓▓▓▓ned. I▓t w▓▓▓as n▓▓▓o▓▓▓t int▓▓▓erfe▓▓▓rence, it w▓▓a▓▓▓s mo▓▓re sim▓▓il▓▓▓ar to w▓▓▓▓hen th▓▓▓e ab▓▓▓▓er▓▓▓ra▓▓▓tion d▓▓▓▓▓od▓▓▓▓ge▓▓▓▓d.
She boosted her impulses to their full output.
For a m▒om▒ent, her pr░ecogn░ition beca░me bright, a full p░icture bef░o▒re it b▒eg▒an t▒o d▒▒im as we▒▒ll.
It cas▒▒caded, inc▒re▓a▓▓si▓▓ng▓ly ever▓y hund▓re▓dth o▓▓f a seco▓▓▓nd un▓▓▓t▓▓▓▓▓il it bl▓ack▓▓▓en▓▓▓ed enti▓▓▓▓rel▓▓▓y.
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
The future was lost to her.
She w▒a▒s m▒er▓▓ely left with the past.
She twir▒led, h▒▓er wings edg▒ing their way un▓▒der the abe▒r▒r▓a▒tion's g▒ra▒sp, push▒ing.
I▓t w▓as w▓▓ith a s▓▓ingu▓lar res▓ou▓▓ndi▓ng cr▓▓▓ack th▓at the futu▓re ca▓▓me ba▓ck to h▓er.
Sh▓▓e was m▓issi▓ng a win▓g.
The abe▓▓▓rr▓▓▓ation h▓e▓▓▓ld the w▓i▓▓ng in o▓▓▓ne ha▓▓▓nd an▓▓▓d it's shar▓▓▓pened cl▓▓▓ub in the ot▓▓▓▓her.
Both came into contact with her.
Sh▓e desc▓▓ended th▓▓e f▓orty se▒▒▒ven m▒iles she had as▒ce░nde░d to in u░nd░er fiv░e sec░onds.
The crater h░er physical aesthetic left w░as the larg░est on the planet since the last nu░clear warhead had g░one off.
Removing herself from the ground, she waited for the next attack.
And waited.
The interference disappeared.
Yet she could not find a singular point where the next attack would come from the aberration.
So too had the aberration disappeared from her range.
It left her… cautious.
The aberration had appeared without any warning initially.
Without any impending attack that she could divine, she had time. The city of Canberra could wait. It's defenders would not venture out to her.
She looked.
Without the aberration present, she was able to focus on the past without interference.
She could not find it's origin point, but she could review it's appearance and struggle with a fine toothed comb.
It had strength that belied what physical musculature could physically do. It had ripped a wing off of her; not one of the bigger ones but sizable all the same. The wing was
gone. The aberration had forced her to hit the ground at comparable energy output of a small nuclear yield weapon.
...dozens of different angles were her perspective...
The aberration had been able to change the future without creating a blindspot. That was dangerous for her. She couldn't model around it. The aberration could change the entire future on a seeming whim. It was able to predict her attacks.
...a hundred different views she looked through...
Death had not stopped it; she had removed it's heart and sliced it into eighty-four parts. There was no temporal anomaly that would signify it could reverse time. Had it simply healed itself completely? She would go for wounding in the future.
...over a thousand vantage points measured the aberration...
There was another effect she had not fully noted- the aberration had immunity to many abilities. Sometimes it broke the future but other times it did not. It also seemed to gain them upon being killed. Her wings had little to no effect on it, nor did any of the constructs she created, after it's apparent 'death'.
...in every singular viewpoint the aberration's glowing eyes looked directly at her.
She changed the location of each observation point in the past. A thousand and five spots changed.
The aberration's head did not move as far as she could see, yet it looked straight at her, eyes flaring.
A thousand and five threads moved.
The aberration tracked her motion.
She cut all the threads.
She took a step back.
She had not meant to.
Her physical aesthetic only did what she directed it to do. There was no expression on her face because there was no reason to. No weakness to be exploited because she didn't permit there to be any. Likewise there had been no reason to take a step back.
Why had she taken a step back?
The answer came all too quickly.
How couldn't it?
She had caused it in millions, billions. She knew what it was inside and out; she toyed with the concept on such an utterly deep level that it gave her notoriety the world over.
She understood it on an intrinsic level, even if she had never felt it before.
She was afraid.
[OFFER-DEAL]
Queen Administrator has an… offer. She is a shard of many talents and has somewhat graciously (read; did some impromptu testing) and is decently certain she could refill whatever [Host.Taylor] depleted to send the projection to a different hemisphere.
However!
She wants to know what's in it for her?
QA has offered up two possible deals.
The first is that every so often she will ask for something to be done; i.e. have patrol win four of the next six possible chapters. If it happens, she'll refill it. Think of it like a side quest. It'll be more extreme the fewer chapters that are needed to fulfill what she asks. She understands the chaos of democracy means this will fail often, hence her second offer;
The second is that she will have semi-override authority once every ten chapters or so.
The first option means QA can't force a win if she doesn't like what the readers are doing, but there will be significantly fewer refills and the refills are up the mercy of the voters.
The second means QA will refill more consistently but then you are left at her whims. Keep in mind, she will not always use it. It has to interest her. But if she uses an override, she will give out the boon.
[] QA will give out side quests for the occasional boost.
[] QA will have override authority for a chapter's vote once every ten chapters for consistent resource fulfillment.
QM's note: If this doesn't work out in the long term, I may scrap it or change it drastically for balance purposes. Just a heads up. Specifically the override.
Author's note: Well. This is probably my favourite thing I've written for this story. So far at least. It was also a bitch to write since I've been writing it on and off since the initial Endbringer vote won. Imagine if we hadn't sent the giant here, eh?
This is honestly one of the funniest ways the match-up could have gone. Her making a discount Gate of Babylon was something I only realized afterwards.
You know how frustrating it is to read with the interference? The Simurgh shares your pain.
The tenses are all screwed up because the above chapter is describing the future, the past, what Ziz is currently thinking and doing. There is a method to the alignments.
Please discuss, as this was a bitch to write and don't forget to vote!
