Eternal Game of the 108 Chapter 19: Soul World (Patreon)

There are worlds beyond the physical one, often born of it, but not it. When one adjusts their soul like one goes from visible spectrum to heat, or infrared, the hidden is revealed. The truth of what is opens to those willing to see it, and those denied a choice.

There is a tree growing inside of Enderlith. The station is the cocoon, the nest that keeps the tree safe until it is ready. Flesh forms its leaves, thoughts, its branches, and souls merge into its titanic trunk. The tree is absolutely immense. It is growing still. It is also beautiful, so beautiful my soul aches to see it. The tree burns with the fires of joy, the fusion of so many psyches singing in unison their torpor and felicity. They are people and synapses, but they have shed pain, anxiety, hunger, thirst, despair, none of those maintain a hold over them. Even the falling leaves bother not the tree, for a tree has many. It will only perish if they all do. The tree will take me now. It is such an amazing sight that I am lost even before it reaches for me with a tender tendril, to take me in. We will be Everything, together.

It just needs to connect.

It just needs to connect.

To connect.

Any time now? No? No bliss of annihilation in the hive mind for me? Should have I taken a shower before? I feel…. more centered now. There is something engulfing my soul, anesthetizing it while it takes over except my soul cannot be taken over. Or at least, not by something as pedestrian as a seventy kilometers-long world tree made of ex-people. The connection fizzles.

You sly begonia, you almost had me. Pour my soul in a box and juice me with psychic ecstasy, will you? Fuck you. This is my shit existence. Mine. And I will never surrender it to some false paradise because I’m not my mum you rabid fucking rotten piece of —

***

“FUCK YOU!”

The tendrils drop dead. It’s dark here. I breathe as if I’d run a marathon. God dammit what the bloody hell was that? But just as I feel fury, my soul flares as a reaction. The presence of the Tree of Everything pulses against mine, and I push back in return. This… level of existence I was not aware of makes me realize how much more there is to the active universe than I assumed. That entity is so vast, yet completely outside of the perceivable realm. Had it not touched me and shared its own perception, I would never have guessed such a thing could exist. My anger fades, giving way to awe, fear, realization, and all those emotions and thoughts manifest in my mind as colors and hues. The emotions also dance in the chests of those around me, sickly colors tied to their bellies. Fear, mostly. I feel that I could almost, almost reach and touch those but… they’re too strong, and —

“Steve.”

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. I’m still where I was. Actually, the tentacles were severed with the closing gates and they are just now sliding down the gate in a sticky trail of fluids. 

I notice that Flicker’s blade is under my neck, about an ant’s pube away from my Adam’s apple. The twins have their flamethrowers aimed at me. I stand very still.

“Errr.”

“Steve, how… I saw you reject them? How? No one has done it before,” Xan exclaims, voice quavering. “How?”

“Hold on, let me check if I’m clear first,” I say.

I pause.

“Wait before killing me?”

The twins exchange a glance. Flicker doesn’t speak so I’ll take that as a yes. A brief check confirms that, yes, my chest is clear. The tentacle dug through my shit armor as if it were wet paper. Same with my thigh. Weirdly, all my hair has fallen off on the point of impact but otherwise I think I’m fine.

“Hmm yes I’m fairly confident I’m still me,” I say.

“Impossible,” Flicker says. “A third soul awakening artist was taken. I know fourth awakening warriors cannot stop it. Even Flesh crafter Elders have said they will lose if the abominations reach their true bodies. You cannot… this is impossible.”

“I am overjoyed that you have survived,” Xan says. “I really am. I would have mourned for you, Steve, but I ask as I do the others. Who, or rather, what are you?”

I hesitate.

“If anything but the truth passes your lips, I will lop your head off,” Flicker tells me in a conversational tone.

Ah well.

Can’t take the risk.

“My name is Steve Prentiss. I’m the Avatar of Time.”

***

I get quarantined and interrogated following that little stunt, which leaves me with some time to check what this new soul awakening means. I am almost sure I am on the third stage which apparently has applications with emotion management. I’m just struggling to see how. At least my perception has vastly improved. I can see emotions with a new degree of accuracy. With some effort, I even manage to pass thoughts among two people in the same room which makes the interrogators a little annoyed but come on, it’s for science.

I’m guessing that reaching a new awakening is one thing, but mastering it is another. I didn’t expect to make much progress in this direction this loop anyway. It’s practically a freebie

As for the interrogations themselves, they are fast and relatively pointless. No one gives a shit, really, not with everything else happening. Mostly they’re confused by how weak I am. With everyone having better things to do, I am sent on my way.

It has been eight months since the start of the year. Things have changed a lot. I think that change started with the explosion

The soul bomb blast turned out to be much less powerful, even though it was situated around the same spot. I can only deduce that the attackers managed to push the soul bomb to its maximum power in the first iterations, but then Krane’s interference forced their hand so they had to trigger it faster. What I find strange is that no one came to claim the death of everyone in Elysium and large swathes of the Betweens. No one has any idea who did it, and the voice I heard in Krane’s message simply failed to resurface. The war has gone significantly better as a result. 

Next, War was supposed to give us the coup de grace. A careful warning to high-ranking members of the defense told them about War’s coming and his followers taking control over the space docks’ cannons. Thanks to this, War fails to take over our side of Enderlith. Unfortunately, it means he lands on the Tip, the extremity we’re cut off from. That’s where Sil-Sil was supposed to go. After I find that out, I use my connection to check for Sethri’s team out of curiosity.

I learn that they managed to find a soul awakened, a refugee child from the docks. They were lost with all hands in a salvage operation,

They’ve already been dead for months. All of them. 

That means they always die unless I help them… but I can’t help them. I can’t help everyone. I guess it just means I need to help as many people as I can. Can’t save everybody, at least not now.

The good thing about giving a lot of useful information is that Xan gets all the training aid he requests. Thanks to this and the occasional raid against abominations, I make fast progress. I’m also more muscular than I’ve ever been in my life, which would be nicer if I were not doomed to lose it all at the end of the year. I think I’m going to do it, to reach third awakening within a year. That’s why I’m very upset when Xan barges into my room early in the morning at the beginning of the ninth month. 

“Uh?” I complain. I was having a nice dream about cellos.

“Lilth Seranne Kerentis just landed on the War-controlled part of the station. She claims to be the Avatar of Space.”

Well yes of course, because she is. Ah, but they maybe don’t know that.

“She demanded that you be detained immediately as soon as my superiors informed her of your nature.”

Ah.

Those.

The consequences of my actions.

Xan hands me my bag.

“I still have a few friends. They warned me in advance, so let’s go. Come on, kid. We have to leave.”

Fuck.

***

Some of the outer, deeper districts exist in a state of lawlessness that few would brave, but Xan does so and he apparently had a safe house there. We leave the safety of the controlled space, having to convince a golem to let us through. Thankfully, golems are neutral.

Abandoned districts are not what I expected. First, there is still some electricity so emergency lights are active, reminding me of the end of the previous loop when everything had broken down yet bands of people still survived on the fringe. Buildings and mushroom gardens cling to life, some showing architectures I’d never seen before. Sometimes, we feel the mana of powerful awakened flashing in the distance: a warning to stay away. We hear the distant cries of some hunting creature, yet nothing stops us while we work our way to Xan’s retreat.

It’s immediately obvious that the man is a prepper or sort, or rather, he used to be. The base lights up with the activation of a generator in the basement of a fortified house. There is some sort of battle armor on the main floor that reminds me of what the Templars wear: a metal coffin no normal person, sorry, no unawakened could possibly move in. Xan has been quiet the entire time. Only after we sit at a table I freshly dusted does he talk. Half of the light seems to come from some sort of bioluminescent lichen stuck to his wall so everything looks blue.

“This is a home I made after… after I left the army. I had been there for too long, I think. Did I mention affinity flaws?”

“Hmm. You said metal-aligned awakened tend to be inflexible?”

“Indeed. This refuge was a compromise with myself. I fought on Obis for a very long time, especially against the fallen healers. It makes one… paranoid. It took me some time just to return to normal.”

His gaze loses focus and for a moment, I wait. Eventually, Xan wordlessly stands up to boil some water for tea, a habit he only expresses when he’s stressed.

“Look, kid, you’re actually pretty close to the third awakening. Honestly, it has to be some sort of record especially since you’re not very talented.”

“Ouch.”

Xan turns his head to look at me.

“You are one for understatements so let me make this clear: I am being literal. You are reasonably talented for an Enderlithian. On some other planet it would be noteworthy. Here, you are merely good in an unremarkable way. That doesn’t mean bad by any means. You mentioned loops in a previous discussion, so I assume you are living through this year several times?”

“I will live through this year a great many times, I suspect. And die too. Dying simply resets the year.”

“Then your talent matters less than your hard work, and you do work hard. I will assist you. Together, we will reach that goal. But I digress. There was a reason why I mentioned third ascension. Contrary to the previous two, which are foundational and mostly internal, the third ascension is a, hmm, a greeting to the world’s energies. It is a step that defines who you will be. It cannot be kept hidden.”

“That sounds dangerous…”

“The awakening itself isn’t. Our location, however, is. I will guard you while you ascend. You must understand and accept that you cannot stop no matter what. Your progress is more valuable than anything else.”

I have to pause at that.

“Why?” I ask. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because you care.”

He sets two cups of tea on the table between us. 

“I am no historian, yet this Year of Judgment is looking to be particularly horrific. You are clearly working to protect what you can. If what you say is correct, this reality I am experiencing, this cup I am holding, all of them will disappear. And I will not remember. Everything we have accomplished will be undone with one notable exception.

“You.

“This is my only chance to make a difference. I’ll help you, kid, and maybe at the end of your loops, you will save Enderlith. And even remember me.”

He smiles like a smug socialite and I think I can see some of the Patrician shining through the cracks of the soldier.

“You might not think it now, but being the avatar of one of the dragons makes you pretty important. If Father could see me now, cozying up with such notable people.”

He laughs. 

“But enough of this. Let’s get you settled, and then let’s get it done, Steve.”

***

I think I would have gone bonkers were it not for how mellow Xan is as a person. He never gets angry, always has a joke, is an amazing conversationalist and in general can feel when I’m getting cabin fever. Every day we take a circuitous patrol route around the bunker to make sure nothing is stalking us, an occasion to stretch my legs. Once we come across a blind woman who makes mushrooms bloom with waves of her hands, her clothes entirely covered in growth. She offers us a wave before leaving but otherwise the district is surprisingly calm. Xan really picked well. 

“The third awakening is the first time one specializes,” he tells me one night.

“You told me so, yes.”

“And you answered that it didn’t matter. I must still inform you that the path we followed so far was one of general fitness. I specialized in the staff, so my path was different. That is not an issue. There are no superior third awakenings.”

He considers his words.

“Well, there are bad awakenings for people who neglect aspects of themselves. You have trained well, therefore this does not concern you. My point is that during the awakening itself, you must act with intent. You must decide the path you will walk.”

He hesitates.

“I never asked, but I assume you must be fairly early in the cycles of time.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t try to awaken when it started?”

I huff.

“No, I enjoy being seen as lazy trash.”

Xan smiles with patience so I explain.

“Awakenings do not carry over, however if I awaken three times, I can start every future loop with the first awakening activated.”

He winces, probably considering the wasted effort.

“Hmmm. You will never win as a first awakening,” Xan tells me with disarming candor.

“There are ways for me to bypass that in the future, but I need to start somewhere. Just being unawakened on Enderlith makes everyone see me as trash, and that makes everything harder. Why are you asking?”

“Would you not be curious after realizing your existence will be erased in less than a year, and only one person will carry the memories of what once was?”

And now I feel ashamed.

“Sorry, I imagine it must be upsetting.”

“Yes, and no. I am a mentor to you, yes? Like those sect Elders in a vid story.”

He laughs again.

“I am old, Steve. I may not look like it thanks to my awakenings, but I am. I have seen things you would not believe. I am also… tired. My best years are behind me, and that means my role is now to pass down my wisdom to the next generation, as our forefathers did for us so that we may carry their hopes. You are still at the beginning of your path, so you may not realize it, but one day you, too, will convey your wisdom and knowledge to those you deem worthy. And it is not every mentor who gets to teach the Avatar of Time!”

“But you will forget. Again and again.”

“Is something only worth doing if it is remembered?” Xan asks.

He slaps the back of my head.

“Hey!”

“Look at you feeling all guilty for something you have no control over. If you want to make my time here worth it, then keep doing your best. And when you win, remember all of those who have helped pave the way. That is what you can do.”

“Uh hu. And the very best of them all of course, I suppose?” I say, teasing.

“Boy if I am the best of them all you’ll never win, no matter how many chances you are granted. You better come back later and show me what you’re capable of. Just tell me you want to be like an ape.”

“Is that some sort of code?”

“No, it’s the name of my fighting school. No matter what version of me you meet, I’ll always be happy to teach it. Although, you’re not there yet.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Then do something about it,” he laughs.

“Working on it…”

“Hey.”

I pause. The tone just changed. Even his soul feels dimmer.

“How many times have you died?”

“That’s kind of a personal question.”

“Can’t be that many.”

I hesitate, but what do I risk sharing this?

“Seven. Seven times.”

He thinks for a moment.

“Does it hurt?”

“Depends. The worst one was dying from radiation poisoning and then getting disintegrated by Enderlith’s anti-meteorite field.”

Xan slaps my shoulder. His grip is heavy.

“You’re going to die a lot more. Don’t worry though. It won’t stick.”

“Thanks.”

“I meant what I said in the past, by the way. You should join the army, any army. It’s a free way to learn skills. I know a mercenary group that’s recruiting at the beginning of the year. The Bleak Hounds. You could join them as an oracle — that’s the guys who do long-range communication. You’ll get some good money to use on training stuff, and some training for your soul too. Can’t hurt unless you have a master plan you won’t share.”

“Maybe. I probably will at some point. It’s good information, thanks.”

“Information is important,” Xan agrees. “I’ll be honest, I would have been much more hesitant if your life were at stake. It’s a risky profession. A very risky one.”

His gaze grows distant.

“But enough talks. Let’s train more.”

It has been eleven months since I’ve started training. I have sweated my entire arse off so many times half the salt of Enderlith must have gone through my pores by now, and after eleven months of effort, abomination hunts, and plentiful mana doping, I have done it. I’m stacked like a chimney, and on the verge of the third awakening. I can feel it in the way my gates pulse every time I open them to soak up the buried district’s dense mana. I am on the verge of success. 

It’s time. 

There is a mandala at the bottom of the bunker, where I do most of my meditation. Xan cooks one last meal for us. We share tea in the dim light of the bioluminescent lichen. We do not speak.

I help him get in his armor. It locks around his form like a futuristic robot, making him ever taller. The staff he uses is a dull gunmetal but it vibrates with energy. We exchange one last glance.

“I’ll give you the time you need,” he says.

“Good luck.”

We part. I sit at the center of the mandala. My thoughts go to Krane, to Sethri and the derelict team: Vargo, Stone, Sil-Sil, to Kaysari who saved me while I was going to Mercy’s temple. They’re all dead at this point of the loop. All those who helped me at one point or another. I’m not sure how I feel about this at all. It makes me feel important in a very uncomfortable way. The only truth I hold for certain is that I owe them to try my absolute best. The gates pulse, gorged with energy, and then the flood is unleashed. Energy courses through me. The light increases. I feel every part of me as if I were a conductor looking at an orchestra. The light comes from my body. This major step towards the power to change things has turned me into a glorious bulb. Nice.

What do I want from Awakening? I need the ability to face situations head on. I need the power to survive the assassin. I need options. I need all the options. I will get all the options. I am inevitable. It will happen. If I tell myself this enough time, it will become the truth. No, it already is the truth, because it is my truth. This is my awakening. No other truth will do.

Will I be a staff-wielding warrior with the might Tavor showed, a blade and a shield, a champion? I will become this. I have no other choice. I will accept no other choice.

Will I be a flesh-warping mage like Kimera? One who incinerates hundreds of creatures like that fire wielder from the Seven Suns? I will also become this. I have no other choice. I will accept no other choice.

Will I improve command over my soul? Will I reach some measure of wisdom? I have bloody centuries to live if everything goes well. More if they don’t. I will be wise and soulful. I have no other choice. I will accept no other choice, even if I must batter my goopy skull sponge for hundreds of loops in the attempt. It doesn’t matter that I’m a stupid cello player lost on a space station of monsters, as prepared as a snail on a F1 racetrack. I am not the Avatar of Time the galaxy deserves. So I’ll become it.

I will be everything I need to be, in the end. Time is on my side. There can be no other option.

I feel something settle inside me. The energy which had been roaring in my gates spreads evenly through my entire body, opening paths I didn’t know existed. The process is much less pleasant than the previous two times. Rather, it feels careful and purposeful. I am not exactly guiding it, but I am helping it along. 

I hear the sounds of battle outside. Something is happening. Xan’s advice rings in my ears, still, and I agree. I cannot stop. Slowly, the energy settles. I feel strange pathways now spreading from the top of my skull to the sole of my feet. It burns a little.

I feel stronger than I’ve ever been. I also feel so full of potential, all the paths open to me, all equally difficult. For everyone else, it would be a waste of their time and a sign of hesitation, but not for me. I have chosen my path. The Path of Everything. I will be everything this world needs me to be, no matter how long or difficult the tasks turn out to be.

It is, without a doubt, the most shamelessly arrogant statement I ever made in my life. And I had a very mouthy adolescence. I am still convinced this is the right choice even though my heart disagrees. The Path of Everything isn’t about who I am, it’s about who I must be. Now that the path is set, I feel a great weight lifting off my shoulders. The culmination of a year of effort leaves me content. I’ve done it. I’m sure I’ll waste my time again soon enough, but for now, I’ve done it. I have gained a victory. I have made tangible, durable progress. Every loop will be improved from now on.

I do not panic when the door of the bunker groans under pressure, struggling to keep someone out. I suppose Xan died. I presume it will be my turn soon. They are too late to stop me anyway. I have accomplished what I set out to do. I feel them thanks to my awakening, gathering outside at great speed.

The bunker cracks open. Heavy footsteps spread on the upper floor. The door to the mandala room succumbs. Men and women in golden armor walk around me. I do not move. I am still riding the pleasure of newfound purpose, energy crackling over me. I think I’m still emitting light, somehow. 

The newcomers are massive in their battle armor. I cannot really feel their souls beyond the barest of presence and they emit no energy despite them being pretty much in my face. That means those are extremely powerful individuals. Not that it really matters. They stand around me in silence, forming a loose half-circle. Although their armor shows a certain uniformity, their weapons couldn’t be any more different. There are hammers, swords, spears, and objects that must be those of mages. One of them takes out a datasheet that looks more solid and advanced than anything I’ve seen so far. There is a quick conversation I can hear from just the speed. A moment later, the man turns the screen towards me.

It shows a woman sitting at a rustic table. Said table is the only humble or understated thing I see. She wears golden armor of incredible make, so elaborate it might as well be high fashion as well. A short white cape embroidered with red patterns rests on her shoulder. White hair falls elegantly from an asymmetric cut, the color that of pristine snow. Eyes like ruby survey me over a golden goblet. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld. Hers is not a human beauty with its scars, pores, and all the little imperfections that make for that attractive vital spark of a living person, nor is it the hand-crafted exoticity of Kimera’s custom modifications, or even the purposeful design of the Patricians. She is perfect. A doll. The statue of a goddess as unattainable as a distant star, and just as cold. I do not need introductions to guess who this is. 

The woman finishes her glass with inhuman grace, then she stands, then she takes a step forward, and she’s here. In Xan’s bunker, facing me. Or rather, I’m facing her. I feel like this is a high-budget movie and I am not the main character.

I am immediately crushed. Just like her guards, the woman is in full control. Her aggression is calculated. It is the heel of a stiletto targeting a specific ant. I collapse on my elbows. 

The woman lowers herself to me. I gather the strength to turn my head to the side, though it costs me all of my stamina. She is… monstrously strong. I don’t think I felt this small facing the previous archon’s priest back in the previous loop. He couldn’t have held a candle to her now. Her soul pulses, pushing mine back. I’m not strong enough to even assess how strong she is. Her mere presence seems to warp the world around us. Her followers’ golden armor shine like distant stars.

“Lilth Seranne Kerentis, I presume?” I manage to force between my teeth.

She is the Avatar of Space. Unsurprisingly, she can teleport… which makes me wonder why she would take so long to arrive on Enderlith. The woman doesn’t immediately reply. With a slow wave, she makes our furniture disappear, replacing it with a throne upon which she sits. She doesn’t speak. A glass filled with golden liquid materializes in her hands. She slowly swirls the content. A fruity scent overwhelms the pungent background I have grown so used to. She slowly drinks it. In the meantime I’m still on my elbows from the pressure alone.

Rude. But not unexpected. Slowly, I push back against her presence until my soul is a needle’s eye in the black sea of her presence. She’s everywhere but I am here as well. It’s the most I can achieve, but now I can slowly inspect how different I am. The power that flows through me follows paths. I can feel them, though not well. Just the largest. They’re like rivers of power, uncontrolled for now, but there to be grasped. They’re bare trickle compared to the presence crushing me, but still, they’re mine.

I’m going to lose it all, and soon too. It’s a little aggravating.

Time passes. If I were not the avatar of it, I would be a little annoyed. A part of me wants to reset here and now but I resist. I’m not going to be a third ascension again for a very, very long time. Might as well ride the feeling while I can. Eventually, Kerentis moves. She leans forward like an entomologist noticing a particularly deformed ant.

“I hate what you are doing to us,” she states. 

Her voice is high-pitched, a lyrical soprano that exudes perfect confidence. 

“I hate that you are robbing me of my triumph. I hate that all my accomplishments will be so much ash on a dead branch. I hate that this version of me, of us, will be erased.”

She knows about the loops.

“So this is the first time you meet me. Yes, I know about the loops. Your master always uses the same tricks.”

She drinks some more. I still can’t move. Her golden gargoyles haven’t twitched a finger after she arrived.

“Who do you think you are?” she whispers, more as an afterthought than because she expects an answer, then louder.

“I don’t expect it to lead to much, but I must still try.”

She is standing.

I am being held by the throat upright. My spine screams in protest. She reaches forward.

Her hand penetrates where my central gate is, and something hits my soul like a piledriver. My vision doubles. The attack is massive and targeted. It is sheer power used as a scalpel. Her soul is sharp and devoid of any hesitation. The attack slides over my soul, painful, but it doesn’t break it.

I crash on the ground. A part of me is bitterly amused that I am now more powerful than I have ever been and it didn’t make a speck of difference. Another is glad that pain hasn’t hit yet. I am cold. Blood has sprayed over half of the room, but somehow none has touched her armor. Her ruby eyes are cold, still.

“So we must play until the end. So be it.”

I am dying. There isn’t enough left of me to live. I think my gate is broken too. I still reach to her with my soul, hitting an indomitable wall.

“I’ll see you later.”

“You will.”

She finishes her glass of fancy juice, then her foot descends on my head.

Death count: 8

Loss count: 1

Qualia points acquired: 4800

Reached the third soul awakening: 1000

Reached the third physical awakening (for the first time): 1000

Reached the second physical awakening: 300

Ascended to third awakening from nothing in under a year: 550

Decided on a path: 1500

Made contact with, and learned about Enderlith’s gray underworld: 4

Made contact with, and learned about the Flescrafter Guild: 15

Fought abominations without dying on the spot: 60

Witnessed the power of an elder for the first time (Seven Suns): 12

Very briefly met your rival and some of her forces: 7

Took part in battle preparations, and battles: 35

Experienced and learned large-scale battle planning with awakened soldiers: 17

Became native in Kei-Sah: 80

Proficient in advanced soul sweeps: 50

Basic group communication achieved without an implant: 70

Basic Art of the Ape staff mastery: 100

New available total: 5511