Godclads

Chapter 33-6 Unwelcoming Committee (II)

What we are doing is pure folly. Transporting millions of Citizens down into the Warrens, trying to displace the FATELESS. This is stupidity of the highest order — and being an act of stupidity, all the Guilds have taken to practicing with it with unmatched fervor and zeal.

The Warrens are mostly underdeveloped. Disrepair is not strong enough of a word to describe its current condition. Apocalyptic would be more proper. I have brought up complaints about us not revitalizing our Non-Tier industrialization projects and expanding our efforts to recruit from the subjects. This was disregarded. Now, we are punished for our indifference—

No! No! I will not cede my time, Councilman Nuelger. Fuck you. And fuck every last one of you that has participated in the defilement of our sacred creed.

“Let there be an end.”

We are the bastard children of slaves—-mutilated and flesh and mind. We have no people or culture. We are joined by chains and suffering. Our ancestors suffered unfathomable torment and depravity, yet endured. Endured to create us. Endured to help the Godbreaker end the era of tyranny. But here we are, well past the time of the tyrants, and what have we done for the true people—the uncountable helpless? Was power so sweet that we forgot the bitter of the lives that came before?

Are we so weak that we turned from our true path to give ourselves to delusional succor?

The subjects are our true people. They might not be slaves like we were, but they share our black fate in every way. They are the deaths that fuel our wars, that power our Elysiums, that build our bridge toward tomorrow; their blood and bones are the foundations of our tracks! But here we are, acting no better than the other Guilds, rushing to displace them to settle some of our “esteemed nobility.”

As if we were ever nobility. You’ve seen in their eyes. We are not even people to the other clades. They don’t think of us as things at all. And yet, we strive against them, trying to take from them respect they will never offer, trying to hurt them as we have been hurt while we ignore the truly righteous path.

And now, even with the Great Force-Breaker returned to his true calling, your orders are for me to continue this farce, this travesty? No. I refuse. And I do not resign. Instead, I put forward a vote of no confidence. I will see Ashthrone turned back to its true cause—and so do my fellow Fatalists.

If destruction is our fate, then so be it. Let us burn. Let there be an end. So long as those who come after have a new beginning, or existence can be granted a proper peace at last.

-Fatalist Haens Yulsmeigaunter

33-6

Unwelcoming Committee (II)

—[Bright Wealth]—

The connection came from Bright Wealth while she was in the middle of a very important business meeting. Across from her were a few major clients. The first was a very important Highflame Instrument trying to settle a deal for his people. The half-strand came down with over twelve thousand refugees from the topside, and because the Golds lost most to the rapidly expanding bubble of ghost-shit, here they were, mouths open wide, begging for lactate from their Sang mothers.

But he wasn’t the only one. Next to him was an Omnitech Clanker. More alloy than flesh, they were talking about prerogatives and other jargon that Bright Wealth didn’t fully understand. But the steel-head was offering a nano-fabricator in offering for letting him set up a server farm within the Second Fortune. It would take up most of the building and force her to throw out her guests, but with a nano-fabricator, she could print almost anything she wanted. New buildings in the area—more gaming tables...

The loss of the guests will be a temporary setback at best.

And then there was a third, most peculiar individual at the dice table. This one was not like the other two, for they were an Ori Seeker, trying to broker a temporary peace. They had people to be stored here as well, and were willing to offer good imps and intelligence to Bright Wealth to see such ends met.

Only three issues with that: The first was that they were a Silver-fuck and couldn’t be trusted; the second was that without the Deep Nether, the markets were so deep in the shit that non-physical goods were a little bit dubious these days; the third was housing Massist citizens in a den of Saintists.

The Warrens weren’t exactly a small place, and the Ori had plenty of options themselves. Which made Bright Wealth wonder just why this one was seeking the Second Fortune. Deep down, she had her suspicions already.

Turncoat, probably. Or something like that. Bright Wealth served long enough under Green River to know that the Guilds had as many dealings with each other as they did wars. Sure, there was animosity, but when you had something someone else wanted—and judging by the Ghost-Link between the Seeker and the Instrument, they did—then arrangements could be made.

Arrangements that could benefit Bright Wealth as well.

“These are desperate times indeed,” she said, chuckling as she shook the dice in her cup, letting them jingle to build up the tension. Guarding the doors to her private gaming room were two tiger-base bioforms. Three meters tall and with more muscles than a Scaarth. Very intimidating, if not for the stupid outfits Green River mandated. Those needed to go soon, but Bright Wealth just didn’t have the time.

Business was booming, after all. With all these desperate Colors coming down to kiss feet and lick ass, a major windfall was about to come. Though she might never become a Citizen herself, it wasn’t so bad being a Dowager of the Warrens.

Hm. A Dowager of the Warrens. That sounded absolutely sexy.

“We request that you provide a final answer to our request soon,” Admin Three-Oh-Nine-Eight said. The tech-cultist’s face was that of a large clock, constantly ticking. It gave Bright Wealth anxiety just to look at. And judging from the Seeker and the Instrument’s expressions, she wasn’t the only one affected.

“Of course, of course,” Bright Wealth said, shaking the dice in her cup. “But these things should not be rushed! After all, we live in desperate times; but from desperate times comes opportunity for unity and mutual profit. Now. Call your squares.”

“Lotus-44,” Seeker Kasmin Andua said.

“Night-3,” Instrument Osjack Valder said.

Perfect. Nothing like a little pre-business butchering on the table to go with the coming squeeze when she made them—

A cord of magenta punched through the ceiling of the Second Fortune and slithered through Bright Wealth’s being. She gasped in her seat as a few more glowing cords spread out from her and connected to her guests. The Seeker and Instrument shuddered unwillingly. The Admin let out a loud reverberating moan.

+Gah! Fuck!+ Bright Wealth’s dice shot out from her cup and splashed into her tea.+What the fuck is—+

“Hi!” A massive monstrosity with a body made out of bright wires and a face that resembled folds of cavernous flesh burst into shape at their table. Bright Wealth slithered back, her tail rattling at the intrusion. The Instrument gritted his teeth and summoned a sphere of twisted geometry around his hands—only for a pulse of light to flash out from his body. He suddenly let out a choked gasp and collapsed backward, clutching at his pelvis.

+Bright Wealth... Did you throw out my things.+

+No. That would be a waste.+

+Good.+

+That’s why I sold your items instead.+

The sounds of a fox going feral sounded across the link. +...Chambers. Show me your other function. The one that allows you to draw people from across the city. I wish to strangle a bitch to death.+

+Oh. Whoa, River, I thought this was supposed to be a happy reunion.+

Green River cut back in, her rage spiking through the love, pouring across the link. +The paintings.+

+Hm?+ Bright Wealth thought.

+The painting on my wall. Did you sell them too. The scroll especially.+

+Ah. Yeah. The big picture of all the people on the street...+ Bright Wealth had to think about that. She was never much of an art snob like Green River, so the pretty drawings didn’t mean so much to her, but they were interesting to that. +Some Dowager sent some people to get them. Some Dowager Brilliant Orchard or something.+

A primal snarl came from Green River. +You stupid—stupid creature! That—you have no idea what you gave away—+

+I didn’t give shit! They gave me a million imps for it.+

+Bring her to me right now, Chambers! Bright Wealth, I’m going to end your entire fucking line!+

***

—[The Majority]—

“Priority target identified: Aedon Chambers – Lovebringer.”

The Majority watched the scene unfold before them through Seeker Kasmin Andua. Despite all the pleasure flooding his system, a layer of informational insulation protected the Ori Ark from the Heaven of Love’s corrosive influence. So, while their Constituent endured the effects, they were free to observe and learn from their adversary without risk of subversion.

Learn, and deepen their own connection to the Lovebringer as well. They already had Seeker Shotin on station. Soon, their emissaries would arrive as well, and that would deepen the Majority’s effects.

We must establish direct connections to the Savior before doing anything drasticAGHHHfeelsgood—he must not be harmed. The contents of his mind are essential.

Yes. But the Chief Paladin and his soldiers will be another matter. Penetration will be achieved soon, but operation options are still limited.

Correction: Not quite so. The Deep Ones. We have evidence of their origins. The Guilds are current at an impasse under Naeko. Easy way to lift the Peace embargo is a common enemy. For the Chief Paladin as well.

The many shadow-egos that made the Majority began to murmur internally. The ideas percolating within them were bold and posed heavy risks, but the benefits were high as well. If they could create distrust between Naeko’s current faction and Voidwatch, that could create a more fluid environment for the coming conflict.

But what of the Dreamer.

At the mention of the abomination’s name, the Majority went quiet. Yes, what of the Dreamer. What of the one that glimpsed them ever so briefly even through the Substance. Did he have more fragments of himself scattered among his allies? Was he still here?

We cannot rush into this. We must tread carefully. Keep ourselves away from the Chief Paladin and his direct companions. They must not be aware of our presence.

They can’t be. His signature was lost in the Substance after the engagement. We do not know if he survived.

He might not have.

And we have been so fortunate before? Did Veylis Avandaer conveniently die for us during the Guild Wars?

At that chiding remark, the rest of the rest of the Majority went silent.

We do this carefully. Slowly. Close on them. Close on all their peripheral allies and relations first. Dispatch new orders and redaction-parameters for Operative Denton.

A series of affirmations pulsed out from the Majority, as their new Sleepers slipped aboard the unfinished planetary ring.

The Fifth Guild War was halted on the surface, but in the shadows, nothing changed. The game still continued, and lurking power began to make their play.