The Siege Begin

Jiro rose before dawn, having found little rest. An ominous aura permeated the valley as if the very air itself recoiled from an unnatural presence encroaching upon Cassou under cover of night.

He set about reinforcing defences and rationing supplies.

They had to prepare for a long siege by an enemy yet to fully show its hand.

Jiro only prayed their barricades would endure.

By first light, the snaking fungal growths were visible on distant hillsides.

Overnight they had spread exponentially, choking the bordering forests in choking vegetal masses.

Scouts reported no movement or creatures sighted. But other settlements had left no sign before vanishing also.

Jiro ordered defenders to stand ready atop the palisades and sound alarm at any shifting of the weird landscape.

For now, they could only wait and observe.

Ruka readied her armour and weapon as Jiro had taught.

She would proudly serve beside him come what horrors. Her place was here now, defending their endangered valley to the end.

Jiro checked his Argon rifle's charge, taking comfort in the well-worn motions.

.....He oversaw the equitable rationing of food and water. If fate allowed, they could hold out weeks or more.

....But the enemy had ways of wearing down courage unseen.

The hours passed tensely.

.....A muffled hush lay upon Cassou as families kept close indoors.

...Finally, shouts arose from the northern parapets - the sprawling alien growths appeared to be subtly realigning and increasing density.

Jiro raised his binoculars, struggling to discern patterns in the living architecture's disturbingly unnatural reconfigurations.

...Like drowned sailors fathoming the depths, his mind recoiled from plunging too deep into geometry obeying no sane physical constraints.

Night fell with no direct assault upon their gates.

But Jiro understood such mercy was transient.

...This contagion spreading in calculated silence would allow no long-term coexistence.

..Either it or they would perish utterly.

Even if some human remnant survived behind sealed shields for generations, what philosophies would take root in exploring fungal labyrinths spreading unchecked over Earth's surface?

In the years since monolithic Prota's fall, Jiro had allowed himself to hope their weakened species was through with demigods and apocalypses.

Now dooms of wholly alien character surfaced from the deep Performance where human sciences breached realms whose first principles remained mercifully concealed.

But life proliferated diversity infinitely, he reminded himself. Communities like Cassou were not constructs that easily surrendered, whatever opposing forces were amassed.

And prayer fortified the mortal soul such that angels might wield it beyond frail bone and tissue blowing as dust before gods astral or fungi

So Jiro calmed himself through the Battle hymns of his forebears, who had faced void's hunger under the heavens wheeling indifferent as the names of a billion dead.

.....He took comfort beside Ruka below their family's ancient roof beams, communing without words.

......All of time's measured joys distilled to this imperilled now.

That night Jiro slept briefly and dreamed of walking a narrow stone path overlooking the Valley.

.....But the familiar shapes of the land steadily unravelled into fractal complexity, receding infinitely in recursive self-mirroring vistas.

......Jiro alone on his winding track with nothing solid left to stand upon...

Awakening with a start, Jiro calmed his racing heart and rose quietly.

......A heavy dread clouded his thoughts worse than any nightmare's haunting.

......It was the sense of accelerating events vast beyond control, like a river approaching unseen cataracts roaring ahead.

Stepping into the predawn air, Jiro witnessed the alien growth completely enveloping Cassou now.

....But the settlement's life played on yet ,constrained under siege.

Jiro knew each moment was now precious beyond diamonds. Whatever fate's outcome, they would share the brief but inextinguishable flame kindled when the soul touched the soul.

He went gently to awaken Ruka with a kiss on her forehead. A new day had been granted.

The psychic pressure mounted steadily upon Cassou as the featureless landscape beyond their walls reformatted constantly into the esoteric structure.

....The bizarre architecture made blind eyes ache trying to parse shapes defying sane geometry.

Whenever Jiro blinked, the entire vista shifted as if durational time itself warped in the vicinity.

....He could only pray their physical reality remained anchored. Spiritual stress took a toll of its own.

By week's end, Jiro and Ruka slipped increasingly into fugue states lapsing awareness.

....One evening he came to slumped over the banquet table, face pressed awkwardly into his meal.

....No memory stretched between walking the battlements hours earlier and this moment.

....Gazing upward, Ruka's expression told Jiro she too had been wandering untethered mental planes.

They clung tightly to each other then like marooned sailors in a boat barely afloat.

No further doubts remained that some alien would circle hungrily, ready to harvest souls expelled from collapsing vessels by the psychic barrage.

Reports came in of suicides and dangerous mental breaks around town.

Jiro understood the critical choice points approached.

They must either surrender identity and physicality to forces swirling outside or else reject the insidious dreams bleeding through.

"Whatever future remains ours, we step into it awake with inner sight aligned," Jiro declared to the Council. "Our voyage is not ended while will remain to chart destiny."

Ruka gripped his hand tightly, reminding Jiro what deep unity sustained them even as selves flickered precariously.

They would hold fast their Only place against the diluvian night pressing.

No mere Flop house of the mind refused entry to a devoted caretaker.

So he let fear slough off like rain from a waxed coat.

Loving hands extended saved many from inner demons crawling amidst the darkness.

That night Jiro slept dreamlessly,

while entities probed gently and then forcefully for weakness in his barricades. Finding none, they withdrew to continue circumnavigating his essential space.

Ruka stood serenely nearby holding back the tide.

At dawn,

Jiro arose renewed and breathed deeply of the fresh air as birds raised praise songs to creation.

Sovereignty is still held above their untroubled Valley.

He laughed aloud realizing tactics merely physical or mental were useless against foes rooted in spirit's loam.

Only by remembering the infinite potential behind transient form could their people outlast this siege perilous to mortal flesh alone.

In his soul depths, Jiro touched wellsprings of courage ready to nourish roots and branches higher yet.

Ruka's face too now shone calm knowing deathless purpose united them. Gifted merely this moment here under heaven's dome, their hearts brimmed already. Come night or light, abundant Life yet streamed forth.

Shoulders set firm against the wheeling cosmos, Jiro descended to walk freely among his kinsmen.

.....He spoke of inner riches gained by facing undreamable entities from beyond the star and symptoms.

.....Even now, their community remains Mission unfurling one bold stroke still at a time.

.....Come what shivers of ghastly alien origin, lasting meaning grew from tending hearth and field.

So Jiro exhorted his people to hold onto mundane beauties anchoring human hope however the skies shuddered.

Their sway yet held within this precious refuge Ringed around by generations who had walked the same stone lanes and tilted faces to catch the same sunbeams.

...Whatever befell, shared struggle fortified the resilient soul.

As days passed largely in calm, the ghostly architecture continued rearranging outside timeframes known.

...But its shifting geometry intruded less insistently into dreams. Waking hours stayed focused on the heart And now, their only lasting hope for sanity.

patrols continued scanning horizon to horizon for tangible threats. But none manifested, only endless fractal mutations. Like astronomers tracking the stars, the Cassou defenders now grew accustomed to passively monitoring unknowable entities revealed beyond veils previously comforting.

....But skin and bone mattered little weighed against spirit's grace abiding.

So they persisted, singing old songs, telling familiar stories, and carrying traditions forward however the strangeness churned beneath Earth's skin.

...Nothing vital depended on whether alien intelligence listened and judged. Life inwardly nourished offered connection to infinite sources whatever outward forms might Menace or drifting mists enshroud.

Jiro sometimes sat mesmerized for hours by a lush grove summoned from nothing outside Cassou where once only hardscape thrived. He perceived the spores crafting new nature were but one pigment in some cosmic palette entities grander dared now applying freely to terrestrial canvas. Perhaps a doorway had been opened that could not be shut, only guarded.

But what need any realm hold over embodied souls who had found their Center and called hard-tested wisdom friends? So Jiro rested watching leaves unfurl through Patient days as our forerunners had for generations uncounted.

.Cycles turned beyond dread or deliverance.