Die. Respawn. Repeat. - Chapter 60: The Void Giveth, and the Void Taketh Away

There are no words to describe the feeling that the Void Inspiration suddenly exudes. It doesn’t speak, like it has a few times when trying to convey something to me. Something within it is suddenly raw and animalistic, and I feel the Accelerator begin to zip around again, as if in excitement.

I don’t know what’s triggered it. I don’t know what makes this source of Firmament so different from all the others; why the Void remained largely dormant until now. Maybe it just took this long to wake up.

But the urge to step forward and crush is overpowering, not in the least because it aligns exactly with what I already want to do.

That’s the only reason I resist, at least for now. I’m stubborn, and if I feel like I’m being forced to do something, I no longer want to do it. It’s not a trait I’m proud of, but a little hesitation is probably warranted if the semi-eldritch presence within you wants you to do something.

Like when you picked the Accelerator? I ask myself semi-sarcastically. But that’s different. Or something.

“Ahkelios,” I say. “Any idea what this is?”

“I don’t…” the mantis’s voice is soft. He’s been a bit quiet, now that I think about it, and there’s a small strain in his voice that sounds almost like he’s in pain. “It’s dangerous. Be careful.”

I spare a moment to worry about Ahkelios, because my opponent still isn’t doing anything, but then I focus myself, and let everything else fall away. I’ll ask him what’s up later.

Crystallized Strength. Amplification Gauntlet.

The double-activation makes the subsequent strike twice as powerful as before. I don’t bother with a speed skill for now. I want to see how the construct reacts. Right now, I don’t even know if it’s a person.

Rush forward three steps. Rotate the hips back and swing, throwing your full weight into the punch. Even before the Interface, I knew how to throw a good punch.

The construct drops its bow at the last moment, then crosses its arms to block the punch. It doesn’t dodge. The impact rings into the metal it’s wearing, and the Amplification Gauntlet thankfully protects my hand from being torn apart by the force of the blow.

Every panel on its body flares open as it absorbs my punch, revealing the dark Firmament within, and the Void within me roars.

It channels itself into my skill before I can stop it. Threads of black etch themselves into the lilac purple of the Amplification Gauntlet, pulsing almost like veins; I can feel the Amplification Gauntlet reacting, trying to destabilize and dissipate, but something about the Void keeps it held together. Those threads spear into the openings on the creature’s suit, diving into the pitch-black Firmament and drinking greedily.

The effect on the Gauntlet is almost grotesque. It bulges unpleasantly, like it’s taking in more Firmament than it knows what to do with, and more threads of Void leak into it to hold it together.

All of this happens in less than a fraction of a second, before I have time to react. It happens in that instant of impact where my gauntlet is still in contact with its forearms.

I try to pull it back. It’s more instinct than anything else, a reaction to one of my own skills going out of control; I have to grit my teeth to do it, because forcing it back through willpower feels a little bit like tearing my own skin off, or forcing your hand to stay in contact with a stove. Everything in me is telling me to just let the Void do what it wants, and only the smallest part tells me no.

I try to see it as practice. I’ll have to reign it in someday, after all.

The punch itself doesn’t affect the construct much, but the Void does. It’s reached into my opponent and pulled out something vital; whatever I’m fighting stumbles backwards and then collapses onto its ass, and a few of those hexagonal panels fall off into the dirt.

Not a construct. Where the black Firmament has receded, I see… chitin. Someone else like Ahkelios? But the color is wrong; this is a light brown, and the carapace is shinier and harder than the living version of Ahkelios that I remember. That, and there shouldn’t be two of his species here.

Unless I’m wrong, of course.

“Wait, don’t kill him,” Ahkelios suddenly says, a note of panic in his voice. “Don’t—”

“I’m trying,” I say, gritting my teeth. I shouldn’t really be trying at all. If I killed whoever this was, they would deserve it. But I have questions, and I need information, and whatever the Void’s already done, it’s drained them enough that they don’t look like a threat.

Maybe the Void won’t kill them. Maybe it’ll just drain the rest of the Firmament in the suit and be happy with that. I touch on the Inspiration within—

HUNGER, the Void screams, and I shut myself off from it hurriedly.

No. In the state it’s in, it’s going to consume everything and more if I let it. There’s no distinction between friend and foe here. It wants everything, even my Firmament, even the still-active Amplification Gauntlet that should have long faded away by now.

I focus my will and pull, focusing all my effort on a single thought, like I did when I was choosing the Inspiration in the first place.

No.

The word resonates within me. I empower it with my Firmament, a pure, distilled drop pulled from somewhere within that I don’t quite fathom yet, something related to the phase-shift that changed the very core of my being. The Void trembles beneath my will, the Amplification Gauntlet flickering, the threads of black slowly receding.

It absorbs the Firmament imbued into my will, and finally, finally, it goes silent.

The Gauntlet vanishes. I collapse onto the forest floor and nearly heave, something in me deeply nauseous, but Ahkelios tugs at me. “Get the suit off him,” he says, his voice urgent. “Hurry.”

I can see that black Firmament slowly creeping up again. What the Void did here won’t last long. The armor seems alive in a way that’s distinctly uncomfortable, radiating ominous Firmament that’s almost certainly related to the Void in some way.

I do as Ahkelios says. I don’t know exactly what’s happening here, but I have my suspicions — especially watching the way the Firmament creeps across bare carapace, digging in in a way that looks almost painful. It takes effort, and no small amount of Firmament, but I rip each panel off.

The person that lies underneath is… well, the closest Earth analogue would be an ant, but that’s a poor descriptor. They have the antennae and the large compound eyes, and it’s what they remind me of. They also have a mouth — how that works with their carapace I have no idea — and two sets of arms, folded together in the suit in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” The words are directed at Ahkelios. Our ant… not friend. Prisoner? Is unconscious, and therefore can’t answer any of my questions at the moment.

“I’m trying to remember.” Ahkelios winces a little bit, clutching his head; his gaze is stuck on the hexagonal panels I’ve since torn away. “That’s… a punishment? It’s a punishment. I fought them before, and I had no idea… and then I found out.”

“And what kind of punishment is it, exactly?” There’s a distinct chill in my voice. I know the answer before I even ask, but I ask anyway, because some small part of me hopes that this is anything other than what I think it is.

“That armor is a Voidsuit,” Ahkelios says. His voice is distant, like he’s remembering. “It traps people. Uses them as puppets.”

Yep, it’s exactly what I think it is. It explains why the Void Inspiration reacted so strongly to it, too, though I don’t know how to feel about it being used for control. I’m not surprised, I suppose. “Integrator tech?”

“Repurposed Integrator tech,” Ahkelios says. “I never ran into the people that were sending them out. I don’t know their stories.”

There’s a flicker of guilt in his voice.

I don’t waste any more time — Rotar is still inside my barrier back there, and there’s every chance that this isn’t the only Voidsuit assassin sent after us. Or after him, perhaps: that arrow was very targeted. I hesitate for only a moment before I toss the ant’s body into the Empty City, mentally starting down a clock. Leaving them here doesn’t seem like the best idea — I have questions for them, and I can’t afford to have them wake up while I’m carrying them. Not if they might still be an enemy.

It’s not the safest place for them, but I don’t see many other options.

Flashstep.

There’s no need for subtlety this time. I dash back towards Rotar, who is thankfully still intact and sitting behind my barrier, although he looks scared. I don’t blame him. I reach forward, grabbing him and hauling him along with me, reducing my speed to a mere Triplestep so I don’t hurt him in the sheer whiplash of speed. Then I step it up again, dashing forward and out of the area.

Rotar barely has the time to squawk in surprise. I feel him gathering the Firmament to defend himself and attack me a fraction of a second before he realizes who I am; then he sags, the look of terror fading from his face.

“Warn me before you do that!” he protests. The words are lost in the wind, and although I don’t have time to reply, I do manage to look down and give him a dry, deadpan look.

Which almost causes me to crash into a tree. Note to self: don’t look away while running at these speeds. That should be common sense, Ethan.

Once I’m a little more assured of Rotar’s safety — I’m not exactly worried about my own — I switch again to Triplestep, so that I’m not leaving a charred trail of grass and dirt behind me. We’re far off course to the Great Cities now, enough so that anyone tracking us shouldn’t be able to find us just from drawing a line from the Cliffside Crows to the nearest City.

It’s still some time before I actually put Rotar down, though. I want to make good distance, and I make sure that this time, there are actually animals around — birds and wildlife I have no words for, including something that looks like a cross between a rabbit and a deer.

Those animals flee at my presence, but I can still sense them hiding nearby. Good. It feels… safer.

“What was that?” I ask, directing the question to Rotar. He’s been silent for most of the trip — first afraid, then contemplative, as he no doubt tries to figure out what happened. He doesn’t answer me for a moment.

“I don’t know?” he tries, and then deflates after a minute. “I think that was a soldier from one of the Great Cities. I don’t know why they would be here, though. And I don’t know why they would try to kill me.”

“Any chance they were targeting me instead?” I ask. I am the Trialgoer here, after all.

“Maybe.” Rotar seems uncertain at best. “There are reasons they might target me. I was once a researcher in the Great Cities, and although they allowed me to leave, I technically know many of their secrets. They might want me dead to prevent me from being captured by their enemies, or they might want to recapture me…”

“I don’t think that arrow was set to capture,” I say dryly. Rotar just looks at me, confused.

“How does one set an arrow to capture?”

“Nevermind.” I shake my head. That’s not important right now. “I have them. We can ask them whatever questions you need.”

Speaking of which, it’s about time to let them out. It’s been about an hour.

I really hope they didn’t decide to move.

Okay. A reminder for myself, in decreasing priority: Question the ant. Talk to the Void Inspiration and find out what happened. Get to the Great Cities.

[ You have defeated a Mechanical Remnant (Rank D)! +52 Strength credits. +31 Durability credits. +66 Reflex credits. +60 Speed credits. ]

…And figure out what’s going on with that. The rank of the Remnant notification has increased, I notice. That’s concerning. I should be happy about getting credits without needing to kill anything or die myself, especially since I haven’t had much opportunity to gain them, but I’m mostly worried instead. It feels like it’s building up to something.

But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I move on.

[ Are you sure you want to open The Empty City (Rank S)? ]

Yes.