Only five minutes over the allotted work time, the Patron of the Deep finished creating an ornate pattern on a stretch of stone next to the Cult of the Saviorâs base. He complained constantly but worked at a rapid clip. Neveah felt annoyed, but couldnât really fault him for it.
She had witnessed Randidly draining the Origin Beast almost dry. The fact he was functional was honestly impressive.
When the clay receptacle was placed in the middle, the Patron of the Deepâs work came alive. Even flourish and elaborate structure now seemed necessary, two strong hands to cradle all the power of humanity. Dancing swirls of energy spread out the act of genesis from a centralized point and made it a larger, more cinematic experience. Neveah privately believed that Randidly was probably right, this could have been done quickly, but she couldnât deny the beauty and wonder she felt as she looked around at the glittering motes of possibility.
And,
Neveah supposed,
that is the point. Just like Randidlyâs forty-seven seconds of resistance matter, so too does my feeling of awe and admiration, when I christen the new race, have meaning. The whole of the energy we poured into it matters.
She gathered the energy, standing over the glittering body of humanity and glanced sideways at Padraic for confirmation. He shrugged. âYes, I believe this is it. All you need to do is formally announce the new race and wish them into existence. Iâve read texts-â
âDo not forget a heartfelt wish for their success and longevity,â The Patron of the Deep, who had collapsed at the edge of the ritual space, pushed himself up onto an elbow and wagged a finger. Even now, he could sound condescending. âTruly, if the depth of your emotion isnât sufficient, a curse of a sort will follow this race for the whole-â
âUnderstood,â Neveah said, stepping forward. To her surprise, she found herself raising her hands like a conductor. She gestured broadly, and to her surprise the swirling energy within the area began to follow the movements. Flexing her fingers, she made more detailed gestures, gathering and swirling all that possibility together.
The patterns had already been laid out for her. She moved and gestured and the energy knew what to do. Light and beauty spiraled up, potential condensed into a tight core, all their efforts came to a head. The air thickened and hummed, as though the universe found this development pleasing.
âI name you Humanity,â Neveah said simply, even while the power of this moment mussed with her hair. âFor your creator and for the potential you possess.â
In her heart, Neveah spoke with a different voice.
Help him, the man who lived and struggled to reinvent you, to open all the doors in existence to you. He needs it. He needs you.
He will never ask for it, which is exactly why he deserves it.
Help him.
The ritual area exploded in brilliant golden light.
*****
Devick stumbled across the edge of the chaotic melee and wiped blood from her cheek. Behind her, the forward forces of Ceruleanâs outer army began to buckle underneath the unending tide of Nether bodies. Homewellâs soldiers were forming up and streaming out of the city, but they probably would arrive too late.
She began sprinting in earnest away from those screams, away from the clash and echo of weapons meeting, moving to assist at Ceruleanâs main camp against an even more intimidating threat. The situation there did not appear to be any less fraught. Different soldiers were running hurriedly in every direction, making the situation even more chaotic-
An impact from Ceruleanâs camp smashed outward, spiking Devick into the soft ground. With a groan, she forced herself to her feet. She wiped mud from her eyes and pushed herself forward even as some of the other Aether warriors just began to prop themselves up.
You fools. Canât you see how short an interval exists between life and death?
Because of the danger, her heart pounded, her blood sang. She danced on the threshold of death and felt her capabilities growing at a speed she could barely believe. And so, despite the fact she knew how dangerous it would be, she ran directly through the maw of the fight.
She followed her orders and ran to stand before Deganawidah, the Nightmare Sea. Deganawidah, the Thrice Drowned.
A secondary explosion came after the first, slapping her face, but she forced her way through the buffeting winds and reached the small parade ground right before Ceruleanâs personal tent. She looked around, catching details in torn snapshots, barely perceived before the situation changed.
Fatia Cerulean, the official leader of the allied Aether forces, crouched down in the mud with one of his arms missing. Azure sparks spat out from the stump. With his other limb, he activated a strange warp in the space behind him and created a Nether barrier. Around him, the remnants of Aether Engravings lay sundered and bodies of at least fifty of his subordinates were sprawled out in a testament to the dangerous foe they faced.
Very often, the limbs of the subordinates were quite far from their original bodies. They looked like a toy chest of old and broken dolls, dumped out by a child too lazy to try and put them back together again.
Deganawidah was there, his squat body walking inexorably forward. He waved a hand and the Nether barrier shattered-
Vendla appeared behind Deganawidah, his shoulder and hips torquing to bring a dagger toward the Nether beingâs back. Even about twenty meters away, Devick felt the aceâs powerful image sharpen into his weapon.
Deganawidah snorted, without even looking, without adjusting his gait to the threat that had flickered into existence behind him. Devick saw Vendlaâs legs come apart in a spray of blood mist, the flesh completely obliterated by a surging slap of Nether originating from the monstrous Nether Being. Vendla didnât even appear to notice, his torso still twisting with intent to maim. The knife scratched across Deganawidahâs back.
Devickâs body apparently understood the threat more viscerally than her mind, because she found herself hopping up and wondering why until the same blast of Nether that had broken Vendla howled underneath her. She landed and slipped on the head of an insectoid being. By the time she rightened herself, that bastard golden-armored Turtleline warrior had arrived in blast of metallic light. However, the shelled dunce didnât even notice Devick. Golden bolts of lightning shot off of his pauldrons as he threw a punch, also trying to interpose himself between Deganawidah and Cerulean.
Congratulations! Your Skill Methodical Recalibration (Ru) has grown to Level 622!
No action seemed to have precipitated the change, but suddenly Cerulean lunged forward. He opened his skull and shouted. Light flickered in the air around him, similar to reflections of a fast-moving blade. âHunterâs Boon! Hunterâs Bane!â
âYou flail like a worm,â Deganawidah spoke quietly, but his words echoed out across the battlefield. Devick felt them in her chest, even as her feet sank into the mud and pushed her forward. The Nether monster raised a hand toward Cerulean. The thunder-encrusted fist of the Turtleline slammed into his back, but it was the Turtleline warrior who howled and reeled back.
Devickâs momentum carried her forward, even as she watched dense Nether melt through the armor and flesh of the Turtleline. She was only ten meters away from the conflict now, with his dense Nether searing her skin. Her eyes flicked over and fixed on Deganawidah.
Nether King Hungry Eye stood toe to toe with this enemy. So I⊠well, overcoming him will be impossible. But maybe- if I can just touch Deganawidah-
âFatal Predation!â Cerulean snarled. A raptor phantasm sprung from the ether and lashed out at Deganawidah, but like everything else, the dense cloak of Nether he carried invalidated the damage. With a similar snarl, Fatia Cerulean hopped backward to open up some distance. All it took were a few quick steps from Deganawidah to delete that small space that had been made.
âSlow that bastard down!â The Golden armored Turtleline bellowed. Devick could see energy spinning together above Homewell, some external manifestation of its power being brought to bear.
However, it clearly wouldnât make it in time. She took another three steps, cutting the distance down to four meters.
âEven now, you refuse to act?â Cerulean said ruefully. As far as Devick could tell, he spoke to himself. âWould you truly allow me to die?â
Deganwidah raised his hand-
Devick, Malice and her Grand Fate moving in perfect concert, threw herself forward over the last couple of meters. As she did so, alarm bells began ringing frantically; she had
felt
her skin sizzling as she approached, but not it felt like she began to melt, turning into runny wax underneath the horrifying power that circled his body.
Too late to back down now,
Devick showed her teeth and lashed out with bitter claws of grim aggression. Even underneath the assault of the energy around Deganawidah, the attack didnât dissipate. Because right now, that attack had the whole of Devickâs resolve thrown into it. Her emotions and image had been pressured into a dense material that, at least for now, could survive this environment.
But for all that the strike was probably futile, had only the smallest possibility of posing a threat to this being. She lashed out anyway. Because, although Devick didnât want to admit it, she couldnât stand the distance between herself and Hungry Eye. If this could bridge that gap⊠she would endanger her life to take that step.
Some more reasonable part of herself pointed out that this action, for all that it would narrow the gap between them, would also leave her dead. Yet she couldnât find any regret. Even with her every cell beginning to scream out in agony, unable to exist under the crushing weight of his Nether.
To her very great surprise, Deganawidah paused. He looked over his shoulder, the weight of his attention, lancing through her organs and shredding them to pieces. Her claws slashed against the cloth across his back and began to disintegrate.
Just as she had hoped, she had touched him. Then, miraculously, she was rewarded for her efforts.
âThis oneâs mine, Deganawidah,â A confident voice cut through the waves of Nether blasting out from Deganawidah. A hand touched Devickâs shoulder, spreading blessed coolness through her body. She gasped, suddenly able to breathe once more. âBack the fuck off.â
Shaking, Devick pivoted and saw him, Nether King Hungry Eye, a wraith with wings of pale, leafless branches and a scorpionâs tail with a massive spearhead at the end. He barred his teeth, the reckless aggression with which he glared at Deganawidah making Devick fall the rest of the way in love with him.
âYou⊠saved me. Again.â Devick whispered. She cleared her throat, âYou know, if you do this too often, it will teach me bad habits.â
Then she collapsed, her strained psyche giving out on her.
Which, at least, had the added benefit of allowing her to fantasize about his snappy one-liner response.