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Chapter 29
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“Thank you all for the patience you have displayed during recent events.” Krelikan spoke, slowly pacing across the room. “I sincerely apologize for the hardship you have experienced during the last few hours, and I know your own worlds are looking forward to your eventual return.”
“Not all.” Krana Za number 7894 softly chimed in, his ruined mechanical head completely powerless to act. “My universe was wiped down to nothing, by my own hands. I have nothing to go back to.”
“Very well, I shall mention my proposal now instead of later.” Krelikan motionlessly activated some deeply-concealed switch inside his body, turning on a holographic display inside the tower. “This city is massive, as the law enforcement operations inside it are numerous. It is so heavily reliant on the automated systems that were developed and run through the AI unit stationed beneath police headquarters that it’s practically insolvent without a powerful mental force behind the wheel, per se.”
“I have anticipated your next statement and your proposal as a whole, and I accept.” Krana Za number 7894 interrupted his well-prepared speech, his voice hiding a bubbling excitement underneath his melancholy and stoic demeanor. “I have the deaths of a universe weighing on my conscience. An opportunity to redeem myself in any capacity is a welcome one, and is why I first arrived.”
“You sure you’re up to the task?” The tiny Ghid asked, his cartoonishly simple face peered out from behind the mechanical skull. “I mean, I don’t know how much of that robot body was you, but you’re looking a little worse for wear.”
Krana Za number 7894 glared sidelong at the miniscule Ghid, whose body had random bandages across his visible skin and one arm supported by an obvious cast. “I supported the computational weight of a machine hundreds of thousands of times taller than this tower… I think a little cross-communication between radio signals is easy enough in comparison.”
“We will give you a trial period to prove your capability and your willingness to work within the lines of the law.” Krelikan replied. “As for the rest of you, If you have no other purpose here, then I bid you farewell, and hope to meet you again in the fairest of health.”
“Ghidrius, if you would kindly send him home now.” Krelikan’s voice grew solemn as he folded his hands behind his back. A gurney was rolled forwards by Bird, while Pakari watched with as much reverence as he could realistically bestow on a Ghid he had never met. The cry was given, the silver shard slammed into the ground, and as reality tore in front of those assembled, Bird slowly rolled the gurney through to deposit the faceless body of Headhunter McGick back in his home dimension. The present Ghids bowed their heads in solemn respect - those who could physically do so, anyway.
“My thanks to you, noble.” Ghidrius shook the hand of Krelikan, his previously severed head now held on by a metal collar. “Once my dying tissue has slowly repaired itself this restraining armor will be removed. You are an excellent replacement for Volume.” He laid his massive armored hand on Krelikan’s comparatively tiny shoulder. “If it is ever possible for you to visit my kingdom, I would be honored to have you as a guest.”
The tear in reality shifted, and Ghidrius stepped through, back to the kingdom he now commanded. Tarnish approached the tear, paused, and turned back towards Krelikan, performing the closest thing to a bow that a pile of tacky fluids could replicate before returning to the tear and entering a world which pulsated with energy through the hole between.
That left the tiniest Ghid, who looked nervously at the tear and back to Krelikan. “I’m going to be honest with you,” He approached, tapping his fingers together as much as his cast allowed. “I’m not exactly… Welcome back home. If it’s okay with you-”
Krelikan raised a hand in silent protest at the verbiage, undoing the massive cape around his neck and crouching down, securing the collar around the now starry-eyed tiny Ghid. “It’s purely a cosmetic position, as I wouldn’t place the burden of running the city on you, but you make a much better lookalike to Volume than I do. If you’d like, that is-”
“ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!!” The little Ghid jumped and caught Krelikan by the neck, hugging him as best as one arm would allow. “Finally, I have my own house for the first time since- …Okay let’s just pretend I never had a house before and this is such a new experience wow yaaay.” Krelikan lowered him down in time for him to quickly dust himself off and pretend to be all trim and proper, child-like joy nearly bursting out of every pore in his incredibly smooth, round head. “I promise I’ll be the best Volume for you since… well… The last one! No disrespect meant, of course,” He leaned down towards the cape on the floor and whispered “Sorry” in as small of a voice as he could manage.
“If that is all,” Krelikan nodded at Bird, who pulled out a silver sliver and drew it across the tear, sealing it back up. “I and the new Volume have some information to go over regarding public appearance, and the eventual statement which will need to be made regarding his passing. It’s going to be difficult to repay the people of this city for their immense trust in Ghid… And even more difficult to repay the two of you.” He faced Pakari and Bird, who stood dutifully at attention. “Pakari tells me you both died fairly horribly at the hands of Monopoly and his cohorts, and your bravery shows no bounds. Pakari has already been promoted, but forgive me if I am a little indecisive on how best to reward you, agent Bird. There are only so many positions unoccupied after the battle… Only so many we have had to bury, thankfully.”
“Sir,” Bird looked at his new superior with a gleam in his visible eye. “Living to see my city safe once more has been and always will be my greatest reward.”
–
Ghidrius returned to an empty throne in an impoverished kingdom. His followers met him with melancholy, heard the minimal account of his tale in woe, and gave him a slow account of what had transpired in his absence.
Ghidrius said nothing in reply, ushering those in his chamber from his presence. For a while he sat in silence, then stood, and turning, gazed up at the figure high above his throne, the decayed body of Wilhelmus the Lesser, his sword stabbed through his body, now a fixture on the wall. He had been turned so his bony features could face all those who came to pay reverence to their powerful king.
“When drawing the sword from your body for so cosmetic a purpose, I almost didn’t get you pinned fast enough.” Ghidrius spoke. “Who knew that you would return to life the moment it left your body? Aside from you, perhaps, but that factor hardly matters now. When I’ve transformed your kingdom into a shining pinnacle of technology and capability, perhaps I’ll unpin you and show you all the wonders you threw away, all the love of your people you trashed for some noble and numb cause, too numb to hear their cries and devotion to you before it turned into anger.”
He pulled out a small device from his armor. “Well I will not squander their genuine admiration so foolishly. They live in fear of me now, but they will not cower at the wonders I will work, the progress I will make here.” The device sprung to life, displaying detailed holograms accounting for the history of the world, modern inventions, any information he desired on all of history’s march. “And this device is so refined it can run for nearly a decade before it quits. By the third year of that time we will be in the steam era, and by the tenth I will have intrenet and electricity in modern computing systems.”
“…Intenret. Internitet.” He scratched his chin, looming into one of the holograms. “What a peculiar word. I shall have to retitle some of this nonsense to retain some level of cohesion. But regardless,” He moved his hands, and the holograms spread across the entire room. “The time for the march of progress has begun.”
“And perhaps, even further beyond what Volume had accomplished…”
–
Success?
Undoubtedly. The right manner and course in the universe has been reset.
Then there is no threat of universal collapse?
Hardly. Just a fool playing at power he had no capability to comprehend.
And this G-entity, the one separate from yourself, he is returned to his status in the universe?
…
In a way, yes. He had made himself into a monster in the eyes of the world, and his current existence reflects the ultimate escape he had so long desired.
Then he still exists, yes?
As long as there exists his spawn, there will exist himself, in some form of self-loathing and regret. And… I feel he exists, yes, even now. How I cannot say.
This will be sufficient, G-entity of dimension Miluca-12. We sense you have grown attached to the false identity of Tarnish… Do you wish to be referred to by this title?
Whatever you desire, G-entity High Master. I am forever in debt to your future sight, which predicted all which would transpire if I did not intervene.
And you intervened successfully?
More than successfully. Thanks to you, I saved the universe.
–
“This feels… Weird.”
Winger poked at the blue metal arm, slowly rolling its fingers and wrist. “You’re saying he’s still technically alive? As an arm?”
“That’s what I suspect, anyhow.” Renner shrugged. “I figured Diero would be a better fit at attaching it than Gofers, since he’s a little more experienced with interpreting written messages than your Dreamer is. But what’s wrong? Do you not like having another arm?”
“I just don’t feel that it’s…” Winger replied, still staring at his strange new limb. “Honestly, the thought of him still being alive and yet me being the one to control it creeps me out. I might not have suggested the idea if I had known he’d still exist in there somehow.”
“Oh, grow a spine.” Renner waved away the conversation as best he could. “You’ve got an arm now, so hooray! It’s not like he’s actually aware or anything; it’s probably just some internal tissue or something like that holding some of him inside it still; I’m sure it’ll go away over time.”
“That’s even more unsettling.” Winger glared.
“Hey folks!” AI suddenly appeared, zipping around Renner’s head obnoxiously. “Racie’s all set with the towing cart. Getting it rigged on one of those old, broken floating bikes was a really bright idea, mr. Runner!”
“Please don’t call it a towing cart.” Renner smashed the tips of his fingers into the bridge of his noise in despair. “And that old, broken floating bike just so happens to have been my bike, a wonderful, vintage two-seater that… Never mind, it’s junk.” He waved at the sphere in irritation. “Whatever. It’s worthless now anyway.”
“Uh, sorry, jeez.” AI backed off a tad. “Listen, I only came over here because Diero was curious to see when we were leaving. We’ve got a lot ahead of us, is all.”
“Tell him to be ready in ten minutes.” Renner sighed. “And if you call me Runner again I’ll tape you to the underside of the bike and hope you get hit by a rock or something.”
“Grouch.” AI breathed and floated off towards Diero, leaving Renner and Winger alone. “Did you say pencil during that exchange?”
Renner had raised a small bagged drink to his lips and paused, staring in confusion at Winger. “I’m going to drink this so I don’t have to respond to that. No I didn’t, by the way.”
“It’s just…” Winger looked away as Renner began consuming the beverage at a remarkably fast pace. “I thought I heard or- or thought the word pencil. I don’t underst- do you usually eat by yourself or something? That’s incredibly gross.”
“Oh?” Renner wiped his mouth off. “I wouldn’t know. Diero doesn’t seem to mind, so I guess I should probably be a little more aware of it. Or drink slower. Anyway, what’re you-”
“Hold on.” Winger reached into his pocket and pulled out a pencil, the same one he had written his many commands with before. “I gotta try something.” Slowly, he placed the pencil into his left hand, and the moment his newly-added fingers gripped the writing instrument his arm sprung into life, automatically tracing letters on the soft, sandy ground.
“Wonderful, you’re ambidextrous.” Renner sighed, turning and throwing the balled-up drink package off to the side like a litterbug. “Well when you get done come help me get everyone loaded up; it’s going to be a roughly four hour drive and I’m not sure I can stand that AI guy talking for more than five minutes of that time.”
As Renner walked off to talk to Racie, Winger looked in silent contemplation at the words scrawled on the ground, slowly ascending and returning the pencil to his pocket before tapping on his peculiar tech, the sleek, jet-black bike which now pulled the empty floating cart revving to life.
–
“It’s so quiet here.”
The figure stood, quietly observing the snowy world around him. At his side, an open book flipped from page to page, in a near infinite supply, writing out a detailed account of what transpired. “I don’t think there’s anything for me here. No friends, no one to speak to… And no certainty as to what is or isn’t real.”
“Mountains rise and transform at my slightest thought. The world is reformed however I choose, whenever I choose. Life is created and extinguished by my slightest whim.” The figure spoke, watching a sea rise in front of him, swirl upwards into an impossibly tall mountain, shatter into a thousand crystalline shards, and those shards freeze in place, before sparkling into stars in the night sky.
“This is the kind of power I wanted, but now that it’s here I don’t think I mind being a pole in the ground, unable to move or act.” He glanced down at his form, at once defined and undefined, a muscular figure, lean, skin of bronze, yet almost infinitely vast inside, like bronze itself was a universe being peered into. “You’ve had power before, right? You’ve had this incredible feeling of anticipation of your own mind, what it could concoct for the world? How did you survive it?”
“I didn’t.” The bullet replied, nestled in between the figure’s thumb and forefinger. “I fell to the preys of power, and the corrupting influence it had over me. And I ended up trapped in bullets for my trouble. Now, I am head by a man who was once a gun. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Here we have been provided the opportunity to do some good.” The bullet floated free, transforming in an instant into a brass and lead variant of his last occupied form. “We both still exist in the real world, and we both can see in multiple places should the need to assist arrive. But we are also the custodians of this place, this reality, where we can accomplish anything, uncover the deepest secrets in reality, and at our own discretion, share it with the rest of the universe.”
“I guess you’re right.” The figure replied, pulling a snow-white cloak out of nothing and draping it over his shoulders. “Come on, then. Let’s go explore just what we’re capable of. Right, book?”
The book, enabler of all that was, chortled with glee. “I Was, and was To Be as well, but now I just Am. I guess I’ll stick with Book for now, until a better name comes along. But look at us! There’s an infinite realm of possibilities to explore - a chance at life!”
“A chance at redemption.” Eilrach replied.
“A chance…”
“…To make a bunch of mistakes and immediately fix everything like it never happened, I suppose…” The figure smirked, eyeing the massive sea of trees and rivers which sprang up beneath his feet, the snowy plain he stood on transforming into a mountain looking out across a lush, dense world full of life and energy. “So let’s get started.”
–
“There’s tracks here.”
The figure walked slowly alongside the line of footprints, of all sorts of shapes and sizes, leading up to the massive hole in the ground, extending down in oddly-shaped levels. “I don’t suppose this could be the wrong location? Did we somehow get the coordinates wrong?”
“Impossible, master.” The other entity responded, slowly floating through the air. His skin was hard and gem-like, unmoving and cold, yet sparkling with blue and white refracting through. “No indication of any error in coordinates. This is the cider factory, without any doubt.”
“Then that makes no sense.” The first figure spoke, crouching down on the edge of the precipice. “It’s like the entire factory lifted into the air and disappeared. There’s barely any plumbing left. Now who would do that?”
“Perhaps Ghid found a way to escape his confines and took the cider factory elsewhere?” The crystalline being spoke again, very soft in tone but with an implication of danger hiding underneath.
“It’s worth a shot.” The figure rose, adjusting the tattered scarf which rested atop his tan armor, barely hiding underneath his helmeted mask, with three slots for each eye to allow him to see. “Well, Senit, we’re not making much progress here on the ground.”
“I agree, master.” Senit replied, floating higher into the air. “Shall we be off?”
“I think we shall,” The tan-armored figure arose, and inhaling deeply, bellowed “VISION: WINGS OF LIGHT!!” prompting Senit’s body to shatter into millions of shards, reforming as a pair of crystalline wings on the fellow’s body.
“Protect our assets, master Dune.” He replied, even as the tan figure lifted into the air and rocketed off towards the distant cliffside, and the city below. “We want to save the world, after all.”
–
“So I did die.”
Diero sniffed at his cigar, wondering if it was safe to smoke before remembering he was a Dreamer and that didn’t matter. “'Fraid so.” His drawl returned, albeit briefly, as he stuck the end of his cancer carrot into his eye socket. “I doubt very much that you would’ve survived that experience.”
“But then how did I…?”
“Well,” Diero leaned back on his hands, looking at the distant sunset. “You got stomped into a puddle of pathetic by mister big boots, then Renner got his spine ripped out by the same fellow, and I’m pretty sure WInger got killed too, and-”
“This is really not what I asked.” Cordax drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his face against them, glaring at Diero over his kneecaps. “I want to know how I came back at all, if I was reduced to a… puddle.”
“That’d be a question for Tott, I’m afr- oh.” Diero paused, leaning forward again and staring at his cigar. “…Y’know, it’s impressive how quickly the target of all your antics for years quickly turns into someone you miss so much, despite never even really talking.”
“Yeah.” Cordax murmured, his eyes looking elsewhere. “He was… a friend.”
Diero suddenly snapped his fingers twice. “Look lively, he’s coming back.” He straightened up and took another big puff on his cigar.
“Hey! Uh, Diero! Listen, sorry I took so long, I found Renner and he says it’ll be about ten minutes before we have to leave.” AI blurted out, looking all around at the city’s edge and the dusty ground surrounding the party. “Not sure why we have to drive at night, but whatever.”
“It’s because we’ll pass over a desert, and some people prefer not to be in the middle of a desert in the middle of the day.” Diero growled. “Now is there anything else he needs, or maybe a tumbleweed you could go imitate?”
“Oh, sure,” AI replied, zipping off to find a tumbleweed. Cordax’s eyes watched him go, internally noticing how grumpy Diero was at the moment and choosing not to comment on it. “You really think he’s gone?”
“Yep.” Diero leaned back again, chewing on his cigar. “But look at how that’s stopped us before. Ol’ bossy bottom over there, he’s died at least once already, and like you told me, that whole AI-ification thing didn’t work on him because of his- well, you told me, so you already know.”
“Point is, we’ve got a lot of options to bring him back - should we ever need to. It’s like you said that he said; we’ve got the immortality keys or whatever it was. Crap, here he comes. Listen, I’m going to go do anything else, I’ll be back later.” And so saying, Diero quickly got up and sauntered off as fast as he could while still looking casual.
Cordax looked down at AI, who was rolling along the ground alongside a tumbleweed, stopping briefly when Cordax came into view. “Sorry. I didn’t actually take him seriously, I just kind of like annoying him sometimes.”
“I…” Cordax looked away suddenly, suppressing a tear. “I don’t know if it’s you.”
“What?”
“I don’t know!!” Cordax swung his arms out. “You died, you’ve been dead for years! I don’t know if the you that I’m speaking to if the same you I lost so long ago. I know you know me, but I d- I don’t know-”
“Hey.” AI retorted, floating up to Cordax’s face. “You know me better than even I do at this point. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with making the distinction between me and myself. And perhaps once this is all out of the way, your Dreamer buddies can find a way to bring me back completely, so I’m not reliant on this little thing anymore.”
“Yeah…” Cordax drew his knees back up despondently. After a moment of silence, AI floated down and rested on his folded arms.
“…You want to hear a story?”
“From you?” AI replied. “Honestly, I could really use a story right about now.”
Cordax slowly reached behind him and picked up the old book he had spotted a while ago. Dusting off the cover, he glanced at the spine, which bore gold letters reading A Collection of True-ish Stories by Ghid. Sighing and settling down, Cordax glanced up at AI, who landed on his shoulder as he began to read.
“A collection of true-ish stories by Ghid. Self publication. To my son, Winger, wherever you are, with deepest gratitude.”
“Chapter one.”
“The Book of Tears.”
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