Chapter 011 - Home(?) [1]
{Continuity_Stream_Restoration_Underway/Bookmark_Retrieved_Pre_Fractal_Vector_Alpha}
{Wanderlust_Drive_Disengaged/ReSynchronization_at_Root_Character_Lambda_Ehki_Echo_Requested}
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{Continuity_Stream_Recompilation_//://_Narrative_Link_at_Root_Character_Verified}
{Re-Engaging_Perspective_Ports_1_Through_512}
{Observation_Synchronicity_Verified_and_Authenticated/Realignment_Initiated}
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{Error_at_DeFrag_Cache_317}
{Temporal_Infohazard_Detected_in_Bookmark\Re_Authentication_Requested}
[Confirmation_Waivered - Execute-Cache-Purge] | {Credentials: [Incomprehensible]}
{Correlation_Sequence_Override_Recognized\Your_Scales_Remain_Undisturbed}
{DeFrag_Cache_317_Returns_0_Anomalies/Boot_Sequence_Reinitiated}
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{Immersion_Vectors_1_Through_430460721_Synchronicity_Authenticated}
{Boot_Sequence_Complete/Perspective_at_Root_Character_Lambda_Ehki_Echo_Confirmed}
{Immersion_Process_Executed}
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(Ground Level 2 - Inbound to Housing & Recreation Wing)
Daritz and I walked briskly with a fevered pace down a long hall of the cleanliest white.The halls were made of concrete reinforced by a plethora of constituent substances with varying chemical interactions, bonded both through physical and magickal means; those same properties also appeared to perpetuate the sterility and cleanliness of the facility's passages. In spite of the passage's constrictive nature, it still helped to put into perspective the vastness of the world's functions.
"Drifter, a question if you don't mind."
I stopped walking as Daritz stepped forward a few paces before halting himself. What did he just call me?
"Oh, apologies," He recanted quickly. "We refer to travelers from different dimensions, worlds, realities and the like 'Drifters.' I suppose that... isn't necessarily a connection you would make right off the top of your head."
"No, not at all," I shook my head dissuasively. "It's apt, but I figured... never mind. What did you want to ask of me?"
"Your old world, can you return?"
His words echoed in my head against the words of my Sponsor.
("Even Beyond My Decree, Today is to be your Last Day in This World.")
I sighed, pensively.
"Even if I could... it's probably better that I don't. If I were to do so... I'd inevitably draw attention to myself. This isn't my original body, it can't be explained away with our technological capabilities, and magick is... not exactly widespread in our world."
Daritz shrugged his shoulders and ushered me to continue walking. We resumed our pace.
"I apologize if that was an inconsiderate question, but we didn't you to think we were planning on keeping you chained here. Is there a reason you can't return?"
"It's a combination of celestial decree and personal choice, if I had to try making sense of it. Due to my choice, I technically already exist there still, but it's a different me with another set of choice completely unaligned with what I have available to me right now. I'm not sure I want to, but it's not because there's nothing for me there."
The Forest Elf nodded his head.
"Lastly, if you could return, would you?"
I thought about it as we continued walking down the hall and pitched a left towards what was labeled as the housing wing. As we began to walk past a plethora of doors, I thought about all I left behind. I thought about my last interaction with my old coworker. I thought about my cousin, her fiance, my niece. My mind then turned to my Choice, everything that followed... My Unmaking, My Reconstitution, My Priming, and my Arrival... I found my lips parting before I could ponder it further, at the same pace I moved forward.
"No. It'd defeat the purpose of my choice."
Daritz stopped abruptly.
"Just like that?"
"You've asked me three questions thus far, Daritz. You haven't even asked my name yet."
He broke out into resounding laughter, completely catching me off-guard.
"Too true. Sorry, you actually caught me off-guard with that one. Most Drifters are often much more detached from their old world, or they are overly-attached. Not many of them have... made peace... with their circumstances. I wasn't sure if that was resolution or resignation in your last answer, but... you're certain, aren't you? Even if this ends up being someplace you don't belong?"
I stopped, turning my head around to barely smile in response.
"Something tells me this is the one place I can belong, now."
Daritz blinked and resumed walking alongside me.
"You are an odd one, aren't you?"
We continued walking for a further two minutes before we took a right into a sub-wing. The environment was much different from the area he had collected me from. The concrete-composite shifted, branching out into multitudes of materials; the air while comparably sterile to the containment area, felt and smelled of life...
"This place... it's quite vibrant."
Truth be told, my old body would have probably been thrown into level eleven sensory overload by now... Though it probably managed to break the knob on its way out. I shook my head out of humoring that notion further and followed Daritz down a path of vines.
"It is also as varied as the people who reside within its walls. This wing is designed as such, to acclimate to be capable of housing as many as desire to. This facility is the cumulative work of a number of brilliant minds and talented, well-practiced hands."
There were as many colors as there were scents within this hall.
"Seems like it would be a bit much to walk through while waking up..."
"On the contrary, it's very helpful to stimulate a waking mind! But you might not have to worry about that."
Ah, right... Do I even need to sleep? This Vessel is supposed to be able to withstand the currents of Time...
'You don't -require- it, but it'll help.'
So I can sleep, I just don't need it as badly as the layman? That's... actually handy.
"Alright," Daritz chimed, "This will be your quarters for the time you spend here."
Daritz and I passed through a particularly unremarkable door into a plain looking room. 5m x 5m x 3m, if my estimations were accurate, and plain as hell. There was a console by the door, its purpose unclear.
"Don't worry about how the inside betrays the outside. The setting of the room is configurable, something about interacting with the energy-states of light and matter to replicate sensation, form, etc. Don't get
I stopped looking at the wall opposite the door to turn to face Daritz.
"Come to think of it, Daritz," I posed a question I'd been meaning to ask for a while, "What exactly is it that you do here?"
"We do a variety of things, Drifter-."
"And please... my name is Lee."
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{Realigning_Sequential_Setting_Temporarily}
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(Setting/POV - Unknown)
I stood in a vast chamber, its immensity and darkness deep and absolute enough to make Anish Kapoor blush. It would appear as though the Master is expecting a report in regards to the failure of aquisition. The mucking arsemaggots; I'd have been better off sending an Alinear to secure that kind of payload, I knew it! I sighed, exasperated with a tinge of anxiety for the reaming that was inevitably headed my way. Seriously, how were we supposed to know the protection detail was the BLEEDING "Damocles Division??" Of all the mucking interventions we could have had...
A crimson lamp at what felt like the West end of the chamber ignited, signaling an entrance.
"It's about time you arrived," I scoffed at my superior. "I've been here for a good thirty minutes at your behest and at the time you specified no less."
A long, slender shadow; created by an obstruction of the dim luminosity of the lamp, stepped towards me from the darkness. The wind whispered with its advance, accompanied by a chill that robbed the life force of most it came into proximity of. A hollow, raspy voice responded from under the cloaked, shadowy figure.
"Report..."
"The Three-Digits failed in securing our query. We currently are scouring the Forest for its location."
The shadow nodded with an air of fierce fragility.
"Scrying seems to suggest Damocles Division is involved in this scrap. The digits aren't going to cut it anymore, we should contract an Alinear."
"You're missing something..."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You really don't know...? Are your scriers doing their job properly...?"
"What are you-."
"You're leaving out a variable... or have you not even noticed it yet...?"
I gasped.
"You're telling me Damocles wasn't acting on their own??"
I felt a sudden chill, not realizing I had leapt, on instinct, several meters closer to my company. I felt the vampiric chill of its presence suppress my life-force, creeping slowly through my veins and breaking me down. My companion... expressed some semblance of mercy, and retreated a few paces.
"You genuinely didn't know... I suppose it wasn't for lack of trying..."
I wheezed as my life-force was once again unrestricted.
"You may consult an Alinear... and take five three-digits with you in addition, once you have confirmed the whereabouts of the query. They won't be returning it for several days at least, no doubt; to ensure client satisfaction, they'll want to polish it up and ensure there are no defects in the frame."
The shadow looked down at me, piercing my soul with its empty gaze.
"You're up against an Exception. Do not let hubris guide you unto Oblivion. The Failures will be dealt with accordingly; see to it you do not end up among them."
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{Original_Continuity_Synchronization_Recommencing}
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(Ground Level 2 - Housing & Recreation Wing - Temp-Housing Sub-Wing, 20 minutes later)
"Looks like you have your ambiance figured out," Daritz chimed from behind me as I finished inputting my desired settings into the console by the door. "You ready to execute it?"
I looked over my shoulder from the console to Daritz. 'No, not just yet...'
"If you'll humor me for a few, I have some questions."
"Shoot," He nodded, "I've got time."
"Thank you. For starters, who were those three I ended up subjugating?"
Daritz's brow furrowed.
"If it's not classified..."
"It's not. They're just a consistent pain in our asses. Honestly, if it weren't for your intervention, things could have been much more gruesome," He sighed wearily. "They're akin to cultists, and we've been fighting against them in the shadows of this land for decades. Their outfit goes by the moniker 'Gris Astra.'"
"Gris Astara? That's odd..."
"How so," Daritz asked inquisitively. "Is something about the name familiar?"
"Well, where I'm from, there's a country where the term Gris is used to describe the color 'Grey'. So... Grey Star?"
He rubbed his temple, pondering something.
"That is..." He paused, as if in consideration of his next words, "indeed very odd."
I met his gaze, but he had averted his own, his eyes saying something along the lines of 'I don't wish to speak on mere conjecture.' I nodded, acknowledging his reluctance to continue.
"How about these three in particular? Have you managed to get anything out of them?"
Daritz cleared his throat.
"They're of the lowest division of Gris Astara, 'Numbers.' They're grunts, basically. They were told nothing, aside from to steal a certain piece of machinery from a client of ours in a neighboring city, Kariagua. We even sent Vivye in to do a preliminary psyche-dive, but they're awfully well-warded for grunts."
"Is she alright?"
He waved me off dismissively. "She just couldn't get in, no harm was done to her," He lowered his hand with trepidation. "But she was able to figure out why. They have runes physically imprinted into their brains, and weirder still there is not a trace of evidence to suggest their heads were ever opened up."
"That's over the top, but I suppose it's paid off for them thus far, based on what you're telling me," I sighed in resignation. In my old world, my way of thinking took what somebody said when telling me a piece of information, and placing myself in their perspective in my mind in order to rationalize things in a way that made sense to me. This had not changed, but such information typically had me react adversely when it exceeded a certain level of gore. But I slightly astonished myself with how easily and quickly I'd responded, was it deflection? But I don't feel like I'm dissociative of this information... Was it my Forging? Did it change my temperament somehow?
'Lee, that's a dumb question,' My partner responded directly into my head. 'You did a hell of a lot more than just die, prior to that as well. It'd be more terrifying if you weren't desensitized to some extent.'
Brilliant. Am I even human anymore?
'Are you?'
Fucking phenomenal.
"You're telling me," Daritz shook his head. "I couldn't get a read on them, nor could Vivye; Lexo, the Lycan you came across before coming here, he couldn't sniff their intentions out," He paused a moment upon seeing the perplexed look on my face. "Is there something on your mind?"
"Did you at least get designations for our captives? I assume, based on their standing in the heirarchy and the name of their particular division that they don't have names."
Daritz returned the perplexed expression.
"That's... rather insightful for someone who presumably knows the bare minimum about Gris Astara. You're correct, they've had their names excised from them."
"Not stolen? Not taken? Excised??"
Daritz's expression turning somber was all I needed to see to confirm that he had indeed been choicey in selecting his words.
"Their designations are '109,' '237,' and '346'."
"I see. Next question then, you mentioned a city nearby, Kariagua?"
"Ah yes, Kariagua," A smile seemed to return to his face. "It's a central hub of trade for this region, as well as an institute city. 'There's a lifetime's worth of learning on every streetcorner, and a thousand different means to become affluent.' That's what the bardic alumni say, at least. Personally, I think most of them are guilty of embellishing." Daritz stifled a chuckle.
'He's a bit overbearing on keeping his tongue in check, don't you think?' I asked my partner.
'It's that kind of position, he's in. He's not a mere squadron leader, clearly.'
'So it would seem. By the by, this has been bugging me for a while.' I posited.
'What's on your mind?'
'I get Enigmatic Grasp is supposed to assist in analysis, but how do I go about-?'
'For you,' My partner interrupted, 'it's ingrained into your being; a para-chemo-electric reaction. You'll be able to draw it out once you figure out how it is induced.'
'So, trial and error?'
'Inefficient, in your old world, have you ever paid attention to how you react to social stimuli? How your face heats up after realizing something embarrassing? Memorize the sensation, and it'll come more naturally. Aside from you having utilized it twice already subconsciously, that's all I can say on that without breaching Continuity or Wanderlust.'
"You've been quiet for a while now," Daritz suddenly spoke up, "Something you're uncertain of?"
I shook my head, as I turned from Daritz to the console and input a few additional parameters that came to mind in the moment.
"I was humoring something, it's of little consequence at the moment. Truth be told," I finished inputting the parameters and once again turned back to face Daritz, stone-faced, "I have more questions than I know to ask. At the moment though, I suppose I am most curious about Gris Astara."
Daritz nodded.
"Until 44 years ago, in the HIY (Holy Imperial Year) 6311, Gris Astara was a Division of Administration under the flag of a country we used to know by Stelluo. They oversaw the status of various religions and ideologies, making sure those well-off did not stagnate upon excess, ensuring those less fortunate had places to rest and sustenance; they used to willingly go into warzones to impart last rites for entire mass graves filled with the lost and forgotten, the decimated and desolate. They were virtuous once, their namesake came from acting as an intermediary between two extremes. Something happened in the middle of that year, though; causing them to go off the radar. They seemingly ceased to be. Then, 14 years to the day of their disappearance, someone claiming to be of their ranks..." Daritz grimaced, hesitating for a brief moment... "Invoked an Incursion."
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30 minutes later
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'So, he refused to elaborate on that last point.'
My lodging had been reformatted per my specs, resembling a hunting cabin. It was something I used to enjoy with my father, back in my youth; hunting and fishing a few weeks out of the summer. I want to say we enjoyed it, but I don't know; despite how he'd try to mask it with the smile of a Father trying to enjoy himself... later in life, I realized there was an underlying urgency to his trips with me out in the wilderness... like information buried deep in composite.
Why did that come to me in those last seconds of modifying the input? Was it the forest that surrounds this facility? A longing for a sense of familiarity? I sighed. Seems I can't answer my own questions with Enigmatic Grasp, despite how much of an enigma I've become...
I don't even know if I'd be able to recognize myself if I looked into a mirror, now.
'Can you blame him?' My Partner returned me to my focus.
'No, I cannot. Even if I could, I wouldn't.'
Daritz, to my knowledge, carries himself well. His presence matches the authority he was vested with, and his intentions while obscure are blatantly benign. I waited for him to elaborate after he mentioned the Incursion, the fact he didn't speaks to the gravity of what he experienced.
'He was traumatized in that Incursion,' I mused, taking a seat in an oak chair. 'And more than likely picked up most of what he knows in a bid just to make it through to the next day, for years on end.'
I probably can't learn it from any of them, but truth be told, even if I could it wouldn't change anything but a facet within my perspective- a facet...
I suddenly felt a weight within my head impossibly exerting itself upon me from the outside of my body.
"Oh now what, anomalous migraines!?"
'Oh my,' My Partner remarked with some degree of surprise, 'you unwittingly stumbled into such saturation simply by thinking about it. That explains why They Forged you the way They did. It seems your subconscious drove your train of thought to a tangent and came across the weightiest piece of the puzzle, a vector by which your other query functions, by sheer probability.'
[Take for instance, Pressure Vectors, applied pressure of a specified metric; focused on a point or disseminated across an area or volume. Focus the point at the peak of the skull, intensify gravity proportional to the mass of information. It is as though there is a solid mass in a hyper-excited state acting as a force well trying to bring the weight of all information even tangentially pertinent to the query is trying to find its way inside from the point of application.]
"The fuck is that even supposed to mean??" I groaned through gritted teeth.
'Pop the knob and come inside,' My Partner invited me within the EFA, 'Since you came across it yourself and since you are the cause and effect of it, I can explain an iota of depth further than prior. Those migraines as you call them, are the weight of data saturation, it will cease soon.'
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{Inside of Time's Keeper}
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I was expecting Nothing but Myself and My Partner with likeness. This was a literal void the last time I was here, after all.
"So why is it Monochrome now?"
My Partner materialized before me looking across the expanse of a singular color stretching outward unto infinity.
"Your understanding is increasing, so it's only natural that what is causally related to you will develop as well. You're wielding his heart, after all; do you think it odd that something dead possesses a heart that still beats?"
I could feel my brow furrowing.
'Always with the cryptic implications instead of an outright explanation.'
"Then perhaps," My partner quipped, reading my thoughts; "You should start paying attention. Yes, I said Enigmatic Grasp is akin to Copycat, but if the implications had been apparent to you, it should have been evident that EG extends past utility. Hell, you haven't even been able to use it in a combat setting since you only had the one fight and you immediately suspended your opponents in time while leaving their consciousnesses in-real-time instead of letting them run on. A reckless Meddler indeed." I felt mentally violated.
"Enough of that lecture, it wasn't the point. The point is that all it takes for Enigmatic Grasp to activate is for a facet of your perception to align properly when approaching a subject with inquisitive intent. I surmise that Arius greeted you with a subtle Memetic Imprint with some high grade Mnestic properties. Do you remember from your old world how it was rationalized by a number of psychoanalysts that Neurodivergent people can process up to 40% more information than the average human?"
That was... yeesh, that was notioned around the time I was born.
"That particular property of yours was designed to be overclocked and overspecced," As my Partner spoke, I could feel my mind... adapting... to something... a sensation. "And it looks like the conditioning has finally concluded. From this moment onward, you will be able to make sense of anything you choose to perceive and make it your own."
It felt as though something over and behind my eyes was peeled away, whilst something else managed to fit its way into place of the gaps.
"I would advise you to be mindful of how you use this, but you should know that already."
I nodded.
"CYOA?" I asked rhetorically.
"Correct. You said you know five ways of utilizing this power, but there's technically a sixth one you didn't want to use, wasn't there?"
I sighed.
"Look, I get there's a point to where you're going with this, but what exactly do you want from me here? Do you need me to elaborate upon why I am not fond of Time Travel?"
"You don't need to, I'm sure you could reconcile it in your own head all on your own, as I already retain all information you do, but it might help you along."
"Fine. Let's start with the Foremost Reason: How Did I end up in this absurd universe in the first place? I made a deal with Death, turned back Time, closed a Breach between Narrative Layers, ensured the longevity of my old world, and I got the next best punishment to annihilation for my troubles."
"You're being reductive," My Partner replied stone-faced, "You didn't even mention it wasn't a matter of choice, but continue."
"Secondly, regarding the implications of causality and fragmenting worldlines. That's not a good look for me, and that much goes without saying."
"Well..."
"Thirdly," I looked past the virtual page towards something unseen. "What? You thought I was taking a page out of Rick Sanchez's book? Get real. The only reasons he doesn't do that is so Morty doesn't become a Marty, and because it'd be too easy." I turned to face my Partner once more. "In summation: I got to this point because my first action upon receiving you was to turn back the clock. You could say I have my qualms about committing the same action that got me here in the first place, without knowing the first thing about the fabric of this world's reality."
"Lee, you understand there'll come a time where you have to utilize everything you have at your disposal, correct?"
I sighed.
"Let me make this clear, *even if* I loathe it, I'm not forbidding myself from using it. But that should be utilized as a last resort. If I have to use it... well, surely that much goes without saying?"
My Partner nodded pensively.
"As long as you aren't binding yourself."
"I prefer to think of it as holding myself to a standard."
A thought rushed through my mind as I finished the sentence, but My Partner seemed to not take notice. Something so obvious... I saw a twinkle near the end of the monochrome expanse we currently belonged to. I felt the corners of my lips rise, slowly.
"Partner."
Its eyes met mine, and I could almost swear I saw a flash of acknowledgement behind the facsimile's. A rush of silver and platinum flooded through the monochrome micro-proto-kalpa within Time's Keeper; accompanied by the voice of something... truly enigmatic, even beyond my understanding.
|Endeavor: Forgive this intrusion, but it is a Chronicler's duty to Observe and Record such a confluence.|
I let out a masked, nervous chuckle.
"I'm going to go out on a whim, and guess that I haven't met you before."
|Verified: Else, it is imagined such a diffusive greeting would not have been warranted. This one will acquiesce, is this presence here something you take issue with?|
"That depends on what the purpose of your obligations is."
|Posterity: Presently a Chronicler, but also [--------]|
I groaned. More Redactions, the trickle of information is going to drive off the readers if you try to stay so mysterious, Arius.
|Pacing: If a mystery is solved prematurely, the element of identity is lost on the scenario. All of Arius' [--------] shall be seen in due time. Redaction is temporary. Request: Please continue what you were doing. This one can manipulate its current presence if it is causing grievance.|
"Not necessary," I turned to face my likeness once more, refocusing from the thousand yard stare I had adopted upon the intrusion. "Your name."
"Lee. Are you certain?"
"I am. Do you trust me?"
"As much as you can trust yourself. Make this count."
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One moment stretched out into another, into another... and into infinity. I close my eyes, hearing something in the background reverberating without the sensation of atomic excitement. Attempting to listen, I found I could make out two distinctly similar sounds.
'Two rivers... technically flowing without beginning or end, unique in wavelength but identical in frequency... Encapsulation of duality, bound in-yet-out-of the Heart of Thresholds... [My Mind Suddenly remembers a tale of Two Gods of Time, and My Course is Set... I open my eyes with a clarity I had never known.]' The sound of the rivers cease with my sights return.
"Your name," my voice echoes, the non-atmosphere of a monochrome void trembling as all that ever was and will be in this microcosm becomes subject to an Authority I do not yet fully understand, yet command nonetheless, 'Is Jan'ros.'
The intent and implications of my choice clear to my Partner; he is stunned, though honored. Jan'ros lowers his head in reverence as the Authority envelopes him from the feet upward.
"With this, I am whole, as Jan'ros; as such, our work begins, Lee."
These are his last words to me before I am forcibly thrust out of Time's Keeper and back into my physical Vessel, but the last words I hear from inside of His Heart are not from him.
|Confirmed. Essence of Exception viability verified. Your Paradigm has been logged, the Registrar will be in touch with you in the near future, Lee Kühren. Fulfilled. Obligations to Chronicle Confluence have been met. Don't disappoint your namesake, Jan'ros. Farewell.|
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{Continuity_Bleedover_Entangled_in_Wanderlust_Drive}
{Disengaging_Continuity_Stream}
{Troubleshooting_has_commenced}
. . . . . . .
{Bleedover_Sutured/Purging_Wanderlust_Entanglement}
{Error_Identified/Entanglement_is_Hyperstatic}
{Attempting_Drive_Cache_DeFrag}
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
{Defrag_partial_completion_verified}
{Attempting_Full_Force_Defrag}
{Results_unchanged}
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
{Manually_Purging_Hyperstatic_Entanglement_Via_Ontologic_Topology_ReSpec_via_Noospheric_Overclock}
{Rendering_Transcription_for_Proteus_Immersion_Engine_Profile_Cluster_08371/Iteration_Designated_Vessel_of_Paragon_Triad_Confirmed_as_Source}
{Iteration_Rendering_Conclusive/Porting_Crash_Log_to_Logistics_at_Warden}
{Underlying_Transmission_Intercepted_at_Source_Contact_in_Profile_Cluster/Confirm_to_View}
"Authorization Granted."
{Authorization_Verbally_Confirmed/Hashing_Render_for_Narrative_Observation}
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"Spilt Blood, Sundered Flesh, Severed Marrow; The First Faces of Conflict. Centuries uncontested, Millennia wandering, stars being made to burn out in the wake of my sight. I strode across landscapes, embodying the likeness of war, yet I was not born of nor for Conflict. I can't say I was born either... I was
In spite of not being wholly of War, I felt myself being dragged to the endless battlegrounds, because of what I was. I remember... pouring out of the innards of millions by the pint, by the quart... by the gallon from every orifice, artificial or natural. Wherever I was found, I was made to network myself to export from my source, to bleed the weak dry. I recall... structure failing; bone and sinew being ground into dust en masse. The gears of war splintering calcium compositions and devouring marrow veins, and the strong were unmade as brittle. I retain... membranes being burst; what we had the most of was flayed, and adorned in a mockery of what all had once lived as. And I observed, cursing their bloodlines from the beginnings of their beginnings beginnings, from before they were born; for stealing such sacred Vessels from their brethren.
Mine were whole. Mine were pure. Mine were untouched by the ravages of what drew me to itself, but associated with it I came to be; unfortunate for them, for it unwittingly blinded themselves to the truth of what Mine are. My Brethren... My Siblings.
If my
𐌀𐌍𐌃𐌵𐌓Ꝋ