Die. Respawn. Repeat. - Chapter 70: Book 2: Layers

We’re making very good time. We’ve had to stop for a few breaks, mostly because running at this speed costs a lot of energy even with Firmament. We’ve had to stop a couple of times for the crow equivalent of energy bars — which are long, very hard sticks packed together with Firmament that I’ve been assured are edible and that taste like dirt.

I’m not a fan. Tarin, on the other hand, devours his eagerly. Ahkelios just stares at them and then makes a face. “Glad I don’t need to eat,” he comments.

I throw an energy stick at him.

Such is its construction that the stick just bounces off and lands in the dirt, remaining completely unblemished. The layer of Firmament packed around it keeps it protected — not that I’d be able to tell without my Firmament sense. It’s kind of the same color as the dirt.

“You not like?” Tarin asks. “It good!”

“It’s not my thing,” I say, as diplomatically as I can. I’m considering grabbing some of my previous supplies from the Empty City, no matter the risk. That’s a last resort, though. I can probably still forage for fruit.

“More for Tarin,” Tarin says with a shrug, and goes back to chomping down on his… nutritional stick. Look, I really don’t know what to call these things.

After a second of staring at him, I decide I can no longer stand seeing him eating what has to be a tasteless stick. I rummage around in my pack, pick out one of the berries Mari gave me, and toss one of them to him. “Here,” I say. “Have this too.”

At least for the sake of my own sanity.

Tarin brightens as soon as he sees the berry, catching it and tossing it straight into his mouth. I’m… I’m not sure he even chews. “Traveler berry! Mari give you?”

“Yes?” I say, not knowing how to react.

“Yessss.” Tarin does not elaborate, and promptly flops over onto the ground.

I laugh a little at his antics. We have some more time for a break, here; I’m not fully recovered yet. I feel my Firmament well slowly refilling, and I let myself focus on the sensation, for lack of anything better to do. I want to familiarize myself with its use. There’s so much that it’s clearly capable of doing, and yet I know little to nothing about it. Gheraa has told me that his people — the Integrators — are made entirely of the stuff.

Living, solidified Firmament. I glance briefly at Ahkelios, who has wandered off to examine some of the nearby flowers; I see him poking away at them, and then letting out a startled yelp when a strange, buzzing thing pokes its head out of the flower and nearly stings him. I have to stifle a chuckle at the sight.

But the Integrators are not so different from Ahkelios as he is now, are they?

There are differences, though. The Integrators don’t look like they’re made of Firmament at all — except for the traces of glowing light along their bodies, there’s not much of an indication that they’re comprised of the stuff. My Firmament sense is dampened in the Inspiration-space, or at least tuned so that I can only sense specific things. I can always feel the Inspirations Gheraa offers me.

Everything else he does? Not so much.

The point is, if what he’s told me is true, then the Integrators are packed with enough Firmament to look and feel like solid stone. That’s a terrifying prospect. I’ve seen Firmament gather in quantities that burn so bright they’re hard to look at. I’ve never seen Firmament so intense that it just solidifies.

And what does it mean that they’re made of Firmament, exactly? Are they enacting the will of the Firmament — does Firmament have a will in that way? Or are they artificial creatures, created from another species entirely?

All questions I don’t have the answers for. I might be able to speak to Gheraa soon, but…

I glance at my credits.

[ Credit Distribution:

Strength: 216 (179 banked)

Durability: 395 (84 banked)

Reflex: 42 (360 banked)

Speed: 92 (273 banked)

Firmament: 90 (256 banked) ]

Close. The plan is to bank Durability the moment it reaches 501 and guarantees me a Rank A skill. If I’m lucky, I’ll manage to roll my first Rank S skill from this, and a Rank S skill in Durability will do a lot to stop me from having to loop.

…Maybe I should get Tarin to punch me a few times so that the next time I get credited points I get more Durability.

But that’s not likely to help that much; I already know that training is less effective than in a real fight. I’ll have to go out of my way to take more hits, and that’s going to be dangerous in itself.

Just a hundred and six more points. One hundred and six until I get a new Durability skill, an Inspiration, and Gheraa can give me answers.

I hope.

I bring my attention back to the way my Firmament is moving within me. I try to understand how, exactly, my Firmament refills — there is clearly a limit to how much I can bring to bear, how much I can use at any given time. The more I force it when I’ve depleted my stores, the worse the pounding in my head. Presumably, if I force it hard enough, there is a risk of real damage. It’s one of the few types of pain that survive across loops.

There’s something of… not a core, exactly. There’s no singular source, no hard lump of energy sitting somewhere in the center of my being that absorbs and emits Firmament. But as I sweep over it with my Firmament sense, I realize that there is a resonance. I’m attuned to it almost automatically, and it affects everything I can see within myself.

But if I shift it, just a little bit…

I can see a little deeper.

Firmament is made of layers, I realize. It’s almost like a fractal — every individual piece of my Firmament is the same no matter how I separate it or pull it apart. The outermost layer is the one I usually see, and the layer that all my Inspirations rest on; I can feel the Void thrumming curiously as I brush my senses past it. The Accelerator does the same, though the feeling I get from it is less curiosity and more… anxiety?

Concerning. I haven’t exactly been able to speak with that Inspiration, though; the Void seems wholly unique in its ability to speak.

I shift my senses slightly, and feel my mind sinking deeper.

This is the layer where my Firmament instability is — the one Tarin called out. It’s uniquely disorienting to be examining a part of myself with that very same part of myself; the landscape around me is constantly shifting, reacting to every tiny change in Firmament around it. It’s hard to tell, exactly, but I can sense two distinct areas where Firmament gathers. They feel like distinct opposites in nature, somehow, and the field created by them creates this zone of instability.

It bears further investigation… but looking at it for this long is already making me sick, with the way it vibrates in response to me even looking at it, which increases the intensity with which my Firmament sense scans it, which causes it to vibrate even more—

Nope. One more layer down.

The third layer I feel is intimately familiar. I can feel traces of Tarin’s black Firmament here, along with a small fragment of Akar’s lilac purple and Mari’s verdant green…

Seeing that gives me pause.

The feeling of Mari’s Firmament here is achingly familiar. This came from the version of her that knew me, and this piece of Firmament hasn’t changed. It’s like a small piece of my memory of her, preserved in the depths of my Firmament. I am… surprised by how grateful I feel for it.

The layer itself is more complicated than just the presence of those three influences, though. There’s a large pillar of Firmament that feels similar to the type of Firmament I’ve come to expect from the Interface, and then there’s a smaller pearl of Firmament here that just feels like…

Well, it just feels like me.

This piece of Firmament is nearly solid to my senses. If it were possible for me to reach out and touch it, I almost suspect it would be solid — that it would interact with my senses the same way the Integrators would. I’m not sure if that means something. If it does, it… it might mean that the Integrators were built. Engineered. Created with intention, using building blocks pulled straight from lower layers of Firmament.

I push that thought to the side for the moment, and try to move deeper—

For a moment, I glimpse something. I see a barely-formed fourth layer of Firmament, made of nothing but bare strings of possibility, like a web that’s just barely begun to be built. Between the strands of possibility are—

The moment I try to perceive it, my Firmament sense snaps, forcing me backwards in a way that makes me flinch; for a moment, a fiery pain erupts in my skull, although it fades just as quickly. I’m left blinking away spots from my eyes.

What was that? Even trying to remember what I’d glimpsed causes the headache to come back, though not nearly as bad as before. I shake my head a few times, trying to get rid of the lingering pain, and then realize that there’s a notification waiting for me.

[ Firmament calibration attempt: Stalled at 70%

Anomalies found in Firmament base. Unable to proceed. Backup procedure initiated.

The Interface will evaluate your Firmament base by simulating a close, non-anomalous model of your Firmament base. There may be minor inaccuracies in presented data.

Firmament base attunement: 62.3%

Progress to next phase-shift: 16.2% ]

That’s… interesting. I’m not sure what it is that’s so anomalous about my Firmament base. Maybe it’s the presence of Interface Firmament within it? I did achieve my first shift while fighting off the Interface for Tarin.

Or maybe it’s related to the Firmament instability in the second layer.

The progress percentage is obvious, but the attunement the Interface mentions is not. I frown slightly. Does that mean I’m not fully attuned to my own Firmament base?

…It’s probably best to ask Tarin.

“Hey, Tarin,” I say out loud. “Any chance you know what attunement with my Firmament base is supposed to be?”

Tarin rolls around to look at me. “Wha?” he says, half-slurring the word. “‘Tunement… ‘tunement good! More ‘tunement… more better.”

I stare at him.

“Is he drunk?” Ahkelios asks me casually. I just groan.

Dammit, Mari.