Die. Respawn. Repeat. - Chapter 80: Book 2: The Automaton

She-Who-Whispers calls her home a palace. She isn’t wrong.

Her home is the highest shard in Isthanok. It floats above the city like a mirrored citadel, though with far less regal majesty. Instead, it’s a mess of silver fragments that spike into the air, like debris from a meteorite strike caught and frozen mid-explosion.

I’m not sure what that says about her aesthetic sensibilities. Maybe She-Who-Whispers is making a statement, living in what looks like a frozen disaster dangling over all of Isthanok.

Getting up there is, fortunately, much easier than it looks. Miktik leads us to a shrine hidden near the borders of Isthanok; it’s a small structure with an open roof that’s guarded by two silverwisps. Neither of them say a word when I greet them, instead stepping aside to allow us entry, and inside…

I grimace. Inside is a stained glass floor that depicts She-Who-Whispers in decor that looks alarmingly religious. It’s a beautiful work of art, certainly, but my questions about the silverwisp Trialgoer are only growing.

Small motes of light glow beneath the stained glass floor. They flare with occasional brilliance, lighting up different sections of the image and painting the walls in a dazzling array of colors.

I’m a little tempted to activate Color Drain, just to mess with the ostentatious display, but I don’t.

That’s for a future loop.

For now, we step onto the center of the floor as Miktik directs, and the motes of light beneath the floor suddenly flare as one — I feel a surge of Firmament come from somewhere, and the four of us are all launched through the ceiling and towards the palace.

Tarin yelps and flaps his wings awkwardly, trying to control his ascent and only really managing to spin in circles. Ahkelios clings tightly to my hair. Miktik… soars through the air about as gracefully as she can, and I do my best to mimic her. As long as I’m not trying to fight the current of Firmament, it’s actually pretty easy to maintain my balance.

A few minutes later, we land at the feet of the stairs that lead up to the palace, miles up in the air.

I just stare disbelievingly at the steps ahead of us. “She couldn’t have designed that to send us to the top of the stairs?”

“Trust me, don’t ask her about it,” Miktik says tiredly.

“Next time I fly up here!” Tarin squawks indignantly. I look over at him and stifle a laugh; his feathers are puffed up awkwardly. He looks like he’s had the bird equivalent of a bad hair day.

“It’ll probably be easier,” I agree. “Come on, let’s go.”

Power play or not, making it up those steps is pretty trivial with Crystallized Strength to enhance my leaps; I just get Miktik to climb up onto my shoulders before I go. I try not to react to the feeling of fourteen legs digging into my back, and before long, we’re standing before the enormously tall front doors.

They open automatically as soon as we make it close enough, fortunately. I’m not sure my Strength skills would let me open that thing without just breaking off the lower portion of the door.

“Welcome, dears.”

I nearly jump. She-Who-Whispers’ voice curls around us, a quiet whisper that fortunately doesn’t carry the same weight of Firmament that her commands do. At the same time, as I flick my Firmament sense outwards and expand it, trying to grasp the flow of Firmament in this place…

My brows furrow. Firmament bounces off the walls of the palace, reflecting and refracting off different facets of not-glass and growing stronger as it does. More than that, it all seems to be moving in distinct, purposeful directions; there’s a current of Firmament leading up, and another one leading down.

I don’t know what this means yet, but this is almost certainly intentional.

“Do come on up. Your gift is ready.”

That whisper comes with an edge of command in it. It’s not just a whisper; it’s a Whisper, backed and multiplied by the power of the Interface. There’s no reason for her to use it here except as a show of force, and I grit my teeth in annoyance.

Void, I command. The Inspiration is still dozing within me, apparently full from its last meal; it hasn’t even completely digested the last fraction of Firmament it ate from the Whisper command. That suits me just fine. If she’s going to keep doing this, I’m going to collect samples of her Firmament.

Let’s see exactly how this Whisper works.

It takes a bit of coaxing, but the Void eventually — reluctantly — gives up what small piece of the first Whisper it still has, and then sets about eagerly devouring this new, second Whisper. The two pieces of Firmament don’t feel exactly the same, but it’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly what’s different about them. I tuck the fragment of the first Whisper away in a pocket of my own Firmament.

I’ll do the same with the second Whisper once the Void’s had time to digest.

The rest of her Whisper still coils around me in agitation. The Void is able to only peel off a fraction of Firmament, just as before; I’m just as subject to her so-called punishment as I was before the Void ate away at it, and I’m starting to feel it constrict around me.

Miktik is giving me a worried look. “We need to go,” she says.

“Right, right.” The grip of her Whisper eases almost as soon as I take a step forward towards yet another flight of stairs. This one, at least, is not nearly as long.

She-Who-Whispers sits at the top of her palace. It’s an odd look for her — she projects an image of dainty, delicate woman, sitting atop a throne of glass — but the throne is enormous, and the juxtaposition with the kindly look she wears is jarring.

And next to her… The sight almost makes me stumble. It is the same automaton that attacked me back in the Fracture, or if not that one then one that looks exactly like it. It’s the automaton that caused Anomaly 006 to trigger almost ninety days early.

It’s docile right now, kneeling next to She-Who-Whispers. Like it’s a knight, and not a terrifyingly powerful robot. I’ve come a long way since I last fought it, but…

“You made it,” She-Who-Whispers says, smiling as if she didn’t use her Whispers to bring us here to begin with. “As promised — one of my soldiers to lend to you. The Fracture is a dangerous place, as you well know; I am afraid you will not survive an expedition into its depths without assistance.”

“I feel like this is a little too much,” I say, feigning a polite, respectful dip of my head. “I’m sure Isthanok needs its services more than we do.”

“He is more than capable of doing both,” She-Who-Whispers says, smiling beatifically. The emphasis on he makes me blink. It… he’s alive, then, and there’s some level of attachment she feels towards him. “This is just one of his many bodies. Do not worry.”

“My name is He-Who-Guards,” the automaton says, getting up from his kneeling position and bowing towards me instead. I frown slightly. The same naming scheme as She-Who-Whispers, despite him not being a silverwisp. There’s the same flow of Firmament towards the core in his chest that I remember from our first encounter; just like before, it flickers strangely, a patch of multicolored Firmament appearing buried deep within the purple.

It vanishes just as quickly as it surfaces. It almost reminds me of someone that’s drowning.

“You may call me Guard,” the automaton adds. He doesn’t show any sign of recognizing me, at least. He steps forward to stand beside me, and I try not to flinch away from him. “I will ensure that your journey into the Fracture is safe.”

I consider this for a moment.

I don’t think there’s any way to avoid bringing Guard with me without She-Who-Whispers catching on, and I’m not certain that I want to. Something about Guard triggered the Anomaly early, and if I bring him with me, I might find out what that is. He’ll quite obviously spy on me for She-Who-Whispers, but that gives me an opportunity to feed her false information, and learn more about her in the process.

I can work with this.

“Thank you,” I tell She-Who-Whispers, and then I turn to Guard. “And you as well. I’m worried about Rotar, so any help is appreciated.”

“Of course,” She-Who-Whispers says grandly. “Now, I really must talk to Miktik about my next order. Leave with Guard, will you?”

The last sentence is said as a Whisper, and I notice the way Miktik flinches. Just slightly. It shows up as the smallest tremble in her legs, the slight droop of her antennae. She doesn’t say a word to us, keeping herself oriented straight ahead and towards She-Who-Whispers, and it occurs to me rather abruptly that something is deeply, deeply wrong.

No. Not abruptly. This is a Premonition.

Shit.

Ahkelios, I think urgently. The bond between us is something I haven’t used to communicate with him before — at least, not in the form of words — and it’s not something I’m able to do now, either. What Ahkelios receives is more of a jumble of impressions; Miktik, urgency, separation. We haven’t tested the new limits of Temporal Fragment since his upgrade, and now seems as good a time as any.

She-Who-Whispers hasn’t figured out that Ahkelios is anything more than just a decoration yet, somehow. He’s excluded from her Whisper. He doesn’t have to leave.

“Here,” I say, taking him off my head and placing him on the back of Miktik’s shell. “For good luck.”

This is really going to stretch the limits of our bond.

Guard follows me as I start heading down the steps, feeling for the tightening of the Whisper’s Firmament with every step I take. When I reach the bottom of them, I feel the Whisper fade away entirely, and I breathe a small sigh of relief. Ahkelios hasn’t snapped back to me yet. The range expansion is something we’ll have to test in more detail later.

“You are stopping,” Guard notes. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say dismissively. I glance at Tarin, who’s looking back up the steps worriedly. “Just need a break. Stairs are my mortal enemy, and this place has a lot of them.”

“Your mortal enemy?” Guard sounds curious.

“They’re exhausting to climb,” I deadpan. “The absolute worst. Trust me, you’re better off without muscles and lactic acid buildup.”

The strangest thing happens, then — the robot chuckles. It’s a strange, unnatural sound, and it cuts off just as suddenly as it begins; once again, there’s the strange distortion of Firmament in his core. “What was that?” I ask.

“It was nothing,” Guard says dismissively. “Do not worry about it.”

Right. I let it slide, but my mind keeps churning.

Whatever that was, it’s definitely not nothing.

Ahkelios kept himself as still as possible, which was a lot harder than Ethan seemed to think it was! His Firmament body was hard enough to keep perfectly stable at the best of times, and it was even worse if he had to pretend to be an ornament. He was pretty sure it was safe for him to move a little; it wasn’t like he’d stayed completely still when he was with Ethan before in the presence of She-Who-Whispers, but he felt like he needed to be careful. He didn’t want to be dismissed before he found out what was happening here.

And something was definitely happening. She-Who-Whispers’ attitude changed completely almost as soon as Ethan and Tarin left the room; something about her became colder, and icy Firmament crept out from beneath her feet.

“So, you found a Trialgoer,” She-Who-Whispers said. “And when were you planning on reporting that to me?”

“As soon as Miktik could!” Miktik said. Ahkelios was pretty sure she was lying; she was doing that thing again, slipping into third person. “Miktik was still with them when you arrived! I didn’t have time to report it yet.”

She-Who-Whispers looked Miktik up and down. “Your delay should have burned you quite badly,” the Trialgoer mused. “But you seem fine. Did you find a way around my little trick?”

Miktik spread her mandibles to answer, but a sudden increase in Firmament pressure stopped her; she struggled to even gather the breath to speak, and Ahkelios felt the Firmament of his form slowly destabilizing. He tried to hold on. Whatever was about to happen was important, he could feel it.

“Don’t bother answering. I’ll figure it out myself,” She-Who-Whispers said. “Tell me everything.”

That was a Whisper, Ahkelios knew. He couldn’t borrow Ethan’s senses without him here, but from the way Miktik shook, he could tell it was wrapping itself around her. She didn’t speak, still, though her entire body trembled with the effort.

Something underneath her sparked and died. Ahkelios caught a brief glimpse of it; a triangular piece of metal, glowing red hot with Firmament.

Then Miktik’s plating began to burn, and Ahkelios winked out, dissipated by the force of the Firmament roaring through the room.