Skyfallers
Mariana
You wouldn't think he was a hero if you saw him.
Pale skin like a week-old corpse. Heavy bags under each watery eye, red veins spiderwebbing their way across the slimy white fields of his eyeballs. A scar on his left brow and a limp in his right foot, relics from childhood. A large head hanging heavy on a fragile frame of brittle glasslike bones draped with folds of loose flesh.
He has no serious muscle and is fairly self-conscious of that, hence he wears the same long-sleeved black jacket, its cotton weaving turning a dull grey from years of use. The sleeves cover his arms and scars like a living mummy and his baggy jeans, pockmarked with tears and loose threads, have the same purpose. Everyone is so fake nowadays. At least Silas, despite his oddities, is honest.
'I'm losing my mind.'
'But don't lose your heart. I'm in there.'
'Could be better worded.'
'No point having a good bridge if you ain't even finished the chorus, nii-nii.'
'Touché.'
For the past few weeks, he's been searching for clues, signs that could point him to the Path of Wipaczyk, the real start of his journey.
He has questioned many supposed witnesses with information about Wipaczyk's location. From a hundred people he's gotten a hundred different answers. Hope is sifting through his hands.
The voice that speaks to him belongs to one Megami Satou. He's tried to write songs about her, but none of the usual poetic symbolisms fit. 'Eyes of wine-faced sapphire', 'blue hair streaming down her sculpted shoulders.' All gobbledygook. Until he can write her a fitting song he's been drawing illustrations of her under his artist's alias, Averoz.
Meg sits at the edge of the abyss, overlooking the city from their perch at the cliff's lips. Underneath is a sea of trashbags and industrial waste too far down for the stench to reach them.
He changes subjects:
'I've invented a new word out of boredom: Accompliempt. Noun: the feeling of existential numbness that comes with the fulfilment of a satisfying task.'
'You're a goose, Crowe.'
His grandma in the Agarttha colony is the only relative he keeps in touch with. Meg, with not even a sibling alive, has become his imouto in the short time they've wandered the world.
'Don't worry. It will come. You just need patience.'
'It's been weeks, Meg. I don't know how long I can hold out.'
'Well, distract yourself.'
She reaches for his suitcase. Opening it, she pulls out his most prized possession: Broadcaster, the violin once owned by the legendary musician Zidattus. Its colours glisten in the dim slice of sunlight seeping over the lands from a partially opened cloud.
'Might as well use it.'
When it ended up on his porch a few months back on a rainy March 6, wrapped in dense brown crinklecut paper that smelled of Sirilakan tea, he knew he had been chosen by fate. Now he was determined to prove himself worthy by finding and besting the Musicanten and earning the greatest reward an aspiring artist such as himself could get: the legendary Bone Guitar and the position of leader over the band AW.
Setting the violin neatly under his chin, his cold thin fingers finger the smooth hard handle. He plays the Violin Sonata in G minor, the only piece he knows for these kinds of instruments. By the time he's finished, impressing Meg as he always does, a beep catches his attention.
'You've got a message.'
The briefrabe has a new text. He picks the box up to see it closer, its metal with the aroma of Iperborean tree gum. Words in Wrettic script are on the screen: 'Use it well. Use it wisely.'
Under the message is a poem in the same language:
Igor Mihajlovich of the Psoglav colony glares at the imposing building with disdain. Its black cement and rusty metal roofing give the vibe of a Gothic castle where some formidable nosferatu is resting in its coffin. Large neon letters mark the structure's face like macabre makeup: Bibbegugenheit Facility DCCCLXXXVIII.
'They're in there, yea?'
'I can spot two in the yard. The rest are probably inside being fed, going by the schedule we've got.'
Aleksandar Tošev, his confidant from the Svątevit colony, observes the inside through a window with a pair of fernglaeser. The giant Yerlik Han from the Tamu colony keeps watch for patrolling guards, muttering under his breath:
'Biz Tanrıya aidiz ve sonunda O'na döneceğiz. This is a bad idea.'
The rest of the team came along unwillingly: Ahmet Asli from the Ūjmaq colony, Aaban Qadir from the Qareenah colony, Otto Schneider from the Donar colony, Bacio Nnyange from the Obatalá colony, Amun Mostafa from the Babnooda colony, Nukus Jo'rayev from the Xudo colony, Ajraaeel Jaspindar from the Oankaar colony and Venu Mehesuru from the Sirilaka colony.
The targets are Gallus gallus tacamanoharensis. Before their match, Igor has decided to save some Tengokutori, also called Psychic Chickens.
The bar in question, Beyesa de la Naturalesa, is a place where wealthy businessmen and aristocrats search for conjugal connections. It was also the place where Zidattus met his first wife, Sofia.
They travel there by Stromvoiture. The driver is an elderly Jellywitch. Apart from their six hundred finger-sized wings, two right hands and seven hundred 'dingleberries', they're genetically human. These Homines spiritales tend to work as stromvoiture and magnetzug drivers since they don't sleep.
A song's playing on the radio. A pop jam with a very wealthy-straight-girl-falls-for-queer-art-student-after-staring-at-her-from-across-the-classroom-all-semester-and-then-kisses-her-at-a-party-in-the-bathroom-after-ignoring-her-before-for-several-days-because-she's-legitimately-questioning-herself-and-is-on-a-journey-of-self-discovery kind of vibe. While bobbing her head to the beat, Meg reminisces on how she and Silas crossed paths.
She awoke to find herself in a bed with a stranger sleeping next to her. A doctor waiting on her provided some explanations:
'Hello, Megami Hiratsuka Satou. I apologize in advance for the situation you have found yourself in. You are currently at Zylothor Forgotten God of Shifting Sands Hospital. This boy lying next to you has a fatal kidney condition, and since he is the son of a Senator it's a top priority he recovers.
Our hospital with its limited resources and time has scoured all available records and found that you alone have the right blood type to help him, and are the only person we could find on such short notice nearby. Last night while you were recovering from a hangover we took you from the Padded Leopard bar in the Jarvis District, and his circulatory system was plugged into yours.
Your kidneys can be used to extract poisons from his blood: if he is unplugged from you now, he'll die, but in 280 days he will have recovered from his sickness and can safely be separated from you. He is a wonderful musician and could entertain you while you wait out the time, though I understand that does not sweeten the sentence put on you. The choice is yours.'
Healthcare on Zoster was a tragedy. She was less surprised that she had been forced to be responsible for another's life and more surprised she was given a choice. Her life until then had been largely out of her control.
'I think...since he is a developed human being with a life still ahead of him, and would be viable without me if he were not sick, it would be charitable to help him. So long as I get paid for this, obviously.'
'Of course. You will receive a payment of four thousand cimeries per day for your service, all paid by His Preeminency Ahasdah Crowe himself.'
That was the most money she had seen in her life. The boy woke up, confused at the goddess he found himself next to, and wondered if he was in Nipheui.
'Um, Silas. That's my name. Silas son of Ahasdah son of Zazel son of Hismael son of Bartzabel son of Sorat son of Kedemel son of Taftartarat son of Chashmodai.'
'Damn, you got your whole genealogy memorized?'
'Not really an optional thing in my house.'
Silas once had a little sister. His father was rarely home and his mother had passed away from Killian Emberwood Disease when he was six, so they lived on their own.
One night a Kutakake was patrolling close to their house. These synthetic beings, some strange liminal space between organic material and metal, were responsible for disposing of industrial waste and garbage around the major cities. The problem was they were too good at their jobs.
If there was nothing to consume a Clown Demon, as they were called locally, would crawl its way to a more populated area in search of waste. Due to outdated technology, or perhaps some inexplicable ghost in the machine, they were unable to distinguish living creatures from trash.
That night a metallic knock awoke them. Nerissa answered the door and was met by a hungry Demon.
She was seized by a pair of fleshy cybernetic arms and swallowed whole, her body irreparably crushed and blood hosing the hallway. Silas could only watch in horror, unable to move from shock.
In a way, Meg reminded him of Nerry.
After 280 days he was unplugged. They got to know each other quite well during those forty weeks and remained close friends after that. But had he been unsavable or a threat to her health, she wouldn't have hesitated to unplug.
There's a man a few seats ahead of them clapping quite loudly to the next song playing.
'By Khlûl'hloo I wish that guy'd stop being a pest.'
'He's not. He's just destroying the unneeded molecules in space by causing a sound that can make planets, stars and comets vibrate at a freakishly fast rate, though it's unintentionally caused a time and space distortion.'
'Lovely.'
She appreciates his weird humour. It's a fine balance to her Stoic seriousness.
They arrive, paying the driver one cimeries and hopping off.
'The Electus will prolly take away our sponsorships cause of this.'
'Doesn't matter. This is the ethical thing to do.'
Zoster is a parliamentary democracy and constitutional monarchy. The Head of State is the Paadishaah or Rex Regum, who lives on an undisclosed planet not too far from Zoster: Paadishaahaan believe their right to rule is decided by Tenmei or Heaven's Mandate. Under the Rex is the Governor General or Dominus Dominorum, who is elected as his representative on the planet and acts independently of all political parties. The Dominus signs all bills that become law and approves the appointment of Throni and their ministers.
The Prime Minister or Thronus is the leader of the Zosterian government. Zoster is divided into four states on the main planet and two smaller satellite territories, the states led by Premiers or Dominationes and Chief Ministers or Virtutes leading territorial governments. Senators or Potestates represent states and territories in parliament, Mayors or Principatus are leaders of local governments and Councillors or Electi are members of local councils, with Auditores or Appointed Citizens serving the Electi as unpaid volunteers. From highest to lowest: Rex, Dominus, Thronus, Dominatio, Virtus, Potestas, Principatus, Electus, Auditor.
'I assume some high-place folks want them dead. This could spiral into something much bigger than a rescue mission on a farm.'
'But it still needs to be done. If not us, then who?'
They have been entrusted with classified information from an undercover Yea'haa'weh employee. The question is rhetorical.
Meg has brought her guitar case with her, carrying her baby. Silas' only weapon is his violin, which can reach a volume of 196,883 decibels: he dares not play it at full power, keeping it at a comfortable 142.
They approach the bartender who scans them through cybernetic eyes.
'Howdy, okyaku-sama. What can I get ya?'
'We're here for business.'
He mentions the poem and Wipaczyk in whispers.
'Password?'
He guesses it was the lines of text under the poem he got, a Zambrovian translation of the Lampter which he relays in Zosterian Standard:
At some point in life, he decided to find meaning and purpose out there in the big wide world.
He tried to leave his community, but the elders forbade him.
There are two types of cultures, you see. What we esteem, what we value, especially in leaders, is that they speak and act honourably. If attacked they will defend their name, country or people. This is what we look for in an Honour Culture. In a Dignity Culture, you don't have to earn respect. 'People should respect me because I'm a human being. You should treat me properly because I am what I am.' In a Dignity Culture you may decide that it is dignified to not argue publicly but to take your opponents with you into a small private room and hash out the issue there. There are pros and cons to both, and most strong civilizations are a mix of the two.
Wilhelm Zidattus was from an honour culture. He was forbidden to go because it would shame his family line. But something compelled him to throw caution to the wind and hunt down his dream like a starved yeager armed with only a sharp bone, chasing a determined deer up a mountain.
He started a Deutsch experimental rock band called Adiseschen Wasughi. AW had eight members: their songs were lyrical masterpieces crafted by the smooth-talking honey-coated lips of Zidattus, who could make his voice as fine as wine or rough as a studded whip.
Will was a prolific writer. Wasughi ended up releasing 200 songs. Fan favourites such as Kafka's Shore, Weltschlange and Sangsaara: Bestaendiges Wandern were well-known across Zoster. But he never felt satisfied. All the sex, fame, drugs, fast netzvoegel and extravagant mansions gave him fleeting happiness. Not even the tranquillity of Dudeism helped.
His main weapon on stage was Broadcaster, a violin with the sound of a 1950s Fender Telecaster. Made of dense black wood painted with the colours of the rainbow, this mystical instrument was his signature, a gift from the Ten Lords of Music, separating AW from other rock groups. It was uncommon but he made it work.
AW eventually came to be known as the Rock Band at the Centre of the Universe. Fans were known as Disciples, band members were called Musicanten or Lights.
Throughout his life, Will battled with demons. Finally, one day, he decided to end it all with a bang.
At an infamous concert now known as the Red Parade, he played for five days straight at a constant speed of 100 attoseconds, simultaneously singing at 2726 times the speed of light.
It was his greatest feat, and also his last.
The rapidity at which he performed took a toll on his cyborg body. At the end of his performance he collapsed on stage and, though his friends tried to bring him back, it was too late. Blood streaming from every orifice, he faced the heavens and whispered: 'Carry on our dream.'
As the life left his eyes, they knew it was over. The band fell apart after his passing. The members left behind had his body degloved of skin and flesh and took his skeleton. With the remains they made a final morbid tribute to their friend: a guitar forged of bones, with Will's blonde hair forming the instrument's strings.
With this new instrument, the Bone Guitar, they hoped to keep his memory alive by establishing a challenge: a worthy opponent who could defeat each of them, ascending higher and higher up the ladder, would assume leadership over AW. This was how power was to be passed on.
The Bone Guitar was left on the back of a cosmic dragon, its location revealed only when all the Lights were bested. The Musicanten hid themselves, waiting for a worthy opponent to come contest them.
Waiting for a worthy challenger to approach.
And one has.
The big man shoves a rusted door open. Silas grips Broadcaster close to his chest, tucking the violin into its case.
He is led down some steps to a room marked DO NOT ENTER in ominous red letters.
'You seek to fight him and win. Well, here you go.'
With that, the large man flings open the door and launches Silas in with a kick to the tokhes.
Silas finds himself falling at incredible speed. After what seems like days he slows down and lands on cold, hard ground. Standing up, he sees he is in some obscure realm with nearby planets and stars visible to his naked eye.
The skies around him are odd shades of red. Cosmic clouds of meteorite dust can be spotted here and there, dotting the bizarre world like lumps of sugar in a bowl of cereal.
He is standing on a barren planet no larger than a football stadium. He could probably run twice around the sphere in a day.
'You!' booms a cosmic voice.
Silas looks up, unable to see who called him.
'Come up hither.'
With that, Silas finds his feet lifting off the ground. He floats up higher and higher till he is looking at the planet he had been standing on.
'Turn around.'
Silas spins around in the air, wiggling his arms like a bird. He is now facing the great Wipaczyk.
The Lights were all cyborgs, improving their bodies to last longer and achieve superhuman feats. Jakub Wipaczyk had his eisenkoerper upgraded after his friend's death and is now a hundred and twenty feet from crown to toe. He wears long silk robes that leave his arms bare.
'I see I have a challenger?'
Silas nods.
'First of all, sir, I must say I'm a big fan...'
'Cut the gówno, boy. Let's skip the intro and fight.'
And with that, the battle commences.
Wipaczyk's legendary drumsticks, Shilmai and Nidbai, emerge from thin air. His drumset, Piriawis, materializes in front of him.
Sitting down, he starts to tap out a simple beat that gradually speeds up.
Silas prepares himself, opening his violin case and brandishing Broadcaster.
Wipaczyk looks a bit surprised, though he tries to hide it.
'Broadcaster? Howdya get your hands on Zidattus' old toy?'
'I wouldn't call it a toy.'
'Whatever. He was a colossal manchild. A toy would suit him.'
With that, he slams his sticks on the hi-hat. A powerful soundwave rockets from him, firing Silas back at a speed two hundred times that of light. Silas crashes into a nearby planet but feels no pain. He straightens and somehow propels himself into space with a hop.
He responds with a retaliatory strike, strumming Broadcaster's strings at full volume.
A powerful wave pushes Wipaczyk back. Jakub assumes this will be an easy fight.
He proceeds to beat out the drum solo of Welterhalter Wischnu, a single that won AW the Golden Bifrons three years in a row.
Silas, holding his ground, is now learning to navigate this realm. Flapping about, he dodges the incoming waves and responds with God Save the King.
The battle is intense, with both sides not giving in. But finally, after a few minutes of ceaseless fighting, Silas starts to notice one weakness on Wipaczyk's side.
His left shoulder seems to be a bit weaker than his right. As such, he has to swing his left arm in an arching form compared to his right which employs a downward strike. The slight delay in the left arm leaves a brief space of 0.3 seconds when no sound is being produced.
Counting Wipaczyk's arm swings, Silas formulates a plan.
'Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Rara Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Ra Ra Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Parararara Pa Pa Pa Para Rara Rara Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Rara Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Ra Ra Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Parararara Pa Pa Pa Para Rara Rara.'
He readies his weapon.
'Ta ti ti ta ta ta ta tu. Ta ti ti ta ta ta ta ta ta tu. Ta ti ti ta ta ta ta tu. Ta ti ta ta ta ta ta ata tu.'
He aims his shot.
'Vow bow bow bow vow bow bow vkw vow vow vow vow vrvrvrvrvrvrvvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvr.'
He focuses as Wipaczyk does his crescendo.
'Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Va Va Va Pow Rwww Rrr R Rw Rrrr R Rwyou Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Poow Dure Du Du Deee De Du De Dududu Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Va Va Va Pow Rwww Rrr R Rw Rrrr R Rwyou Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Pf Pf Pffpfpfp Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Va Va Va Pow Rwww Rrr R Rw Rrrr R Rwyou Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Pooow Dure Du Du Deee De Du De Dududu Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Va Va Va Pow Rwww Rrr R Rw Rrrr R Rwyou Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Pu Tsj Tsk Tsk Stk Da Da Da Da Da Daaaaa Daaaaaaaaa Pa Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaaa Daaaaaaaaa Da Da Da Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaa Paaaa Paaaa Paaaa Daaaaaaaaa Pa Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaaa Da Daa Daaaaaaaaa Da Da Da Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaa Paaaa Paaaa Paaaa Iiiiiiiiiiiouewwww Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Uuuuuuouwwwwww Din Dew Dew Dew Dew Dew Dew Do U Du Du Du Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan Din Dew Dew Dew Dew Dew Dew Do U Du Du Du Ta Ti Ti Ta Ta Ta Ta Tu Ta Ti Ti Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Tu Ta Ti Ti Ta Ta Ta Ta Tu Ta Ti Ti Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Ta Tu Vow Bow Bow Bow Vow Bow Bow Vkw Vow Vow Vow Vow Vrvrvrvrvrvrvvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrvrv Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Va Va Va Pow Rwww Rrr R Rw Rrrr R Rwyou Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Poow Dure Du Du Deee De Du De Dududu Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Va Va Va Pow Rwww Rrr R Rw Rrrr R Rwyou Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Pf Pf Pffpfpfp Pooow Rwiiiiiiiiiiiwiwiwiwiwiwiwiwiwi Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Poow Dure Du Du Deee De Du De Dududu Pooow Rwiiiiiiiiiiiwiwiwiwiwiwiwiwiwi Pooow Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Dj Djou Djou Dju Poow Tsk Tsk Tsk Tsk Tsk Daaaaaaaaa Pa Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaaa Daaaaaaaaa Da Da Da Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaa Daaaaaaaaa Pa Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaaa Da Daa Daaaaaaaaa Da Da Da Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaa Daaaaaaaaa Pa Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaaa Daaaaaaaaa Da Da Da Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaa Daaaaaaaaa Pa Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaaa Da Daa Daaaaaaaaa Da Da Da Pa Pa Pa Paaaaaa Don Din Din Din Don Don Din Don Dan Dan Dan Dan Din Don Din Din Din Don Don Din Don Dan Dan Dan Dan Din Diiiiiiiiim!'
He fires.
Slamming his bow against the strings of the violin, a quick shot is released at the same time both of Wipaczyk's arms are in the air. The soundwave plummets into Wipaczyk's chest at a neck-breaking pace, knocking him off his drumset. His hi-hat, cymbals, toms, snare drum, bass pedal, cowbell and stool are tossed about.
Wipaczyk has never been dethroned before. Realizing he has been bested by Challenger #130, he sighs.
For a few seconds, there is a battle within his being. Finally, he comes to terms with it.
'You win, boy.'
'It's no victory to knock down my idols.'
He floats over and gently pulls Wipaczyk with him to a nearby planet, the cyborg shrinking to human size as they reach the ground.
'You're still my favourite drummer, Mr. Wipaczyk.'
He smiles metallically.
'Thanks, boy.'
'Silas. Call me Silas.'
'Well, Silas, you have bested me. Knocked me off my feet, quite literally. I must say I'm impressed.'
He pulls out something from his pocket. A drumstick case made of fine sandalwood.
His right drumstick, Nidbai, is made of ivory. The left, Shilmai, is made of ebony. The case is fastened with a red silk ribbon.
He puts the sticks in the case and hands it to Silas.
'The power of my drumming was not in my drumset, but in these sticks. They're yours now.'
'Won't you need these?'
'I can always get new ones. Talent is in the person, not what they use. Oh, one more thing!'
He hands him something wrapped in dirty cloth. A hexagonal fulgurite medallion glowing with golden light like concentrated energy from a trillion suns.
'The Amulet of the Monad. It belonged to Zidattus, but you will have some use for it.'
'Thank you.'
'It will reveal the other locations to you in riddles. Use it wisely.'
With that, he turns around to leave. A door has materialized behind them.
Wipaczyk says one last thing:
'Silas?'
The boy turns.
'Will was a lonely man. Take my advice and turn away while you still can.'
Not answering, he exits the realm.
Outside he bumps into the man who kicked him in.
'You should be dead. No one's left this room before.'
'I guess fate has plans for me.'
Just before they leave the man gives them a heads-up:
'From now on you'll probably be hunted. Swivel your heads.'
'By who?'
'Officially they are the Templum Haiothi Hacadoschi, a benevolent religious charity teaching self-defence courses. Underground we call them Akuma no Doujou.'
'The Devil's Dojo?'
'THH wants to prevent the revival of Wasughi. I don't know why, but they're willing to kill.'
He slips Broadcaster into its case and slings it across his shoulder. They leave for the next stromvoiture, a cloud hanging over them.
Back in their room at Kodakaso Apartments, Silas admires the legendary drumsticks he has received. To test their power he gently rubs one against the other: a strange buzzing noise like rumbling static can be heard. The sound of god thunder, what was called in Earth literature bababadal-gharaghta-kamminarronnkonn-bronn-tonnerronn-tuonn-thunn-trovarr-hounawnskawn-toohoohoordenen-thurnuk. Silas is tempted to smash them together but refrains.
The Amulet is cold and tangy, with some words in black inscribed on its back: Nihil Veri Quod Vitam Habet Sit Ab Homine, Sed A Deo.
He finds himself lost in the shape of the letters, tracing his index nail on the incisions.
'It's in an old Earth language. I think the Nervbibliothek would call it Lateinisch.'
Earth was destroyed twenty years ago by a meteoroid on July 6, 2788. By then humanity had already spread across the universe, taking their languages with them. If a people group had a population larger than five million they were allowed to have their colony on Zoster, such as the Iperborea colony with Italiani as its main population.
Republic Proper, a descendant of English influenced by languages such as Nihongo, was what Silas and Meg spoke natively. Languages like Deutsch were used for technical terms, and Lateinisch was used for all governmental and legal nomenclature, except for the Espressioni della Coscienza Umana, Zosterian Constitution, which was in Italiano. Cimeries coins, made of shiny blue metal imported from the Mavakel territory, were officially called Denarii cum Sigillo Michaelis and minted with Lateinisch script, so Silas recognized the carvings on the medallion.
'So what's our next move?'
'John Sickie. He's next in the hierarchy. Wipaczyk gave me a medallion and I'm tryna find a clue in it.'
He turns the medallion around in his palms, polishing it with an old sock.
'Maybe you should stop looking at what glitters and see something else.'
'What else?'
'Birds. Nature. Whatever makes you think.'
'Put the fernseher on. Maybe I'll get some thinking out of it.'
After a couple of hours, Silas is still out of ideas.
But as he rubs his medallion for the umpteenth time, he notices the words written on it have changed:
'Superiora De Inferioribus, Inferiora De Superioribus.'
He recognizes them as a quote from the Lauh az-Zumurrud.
'Meg!!!'
His happy cry wakes her up. She hops off the couch, rubbing her eyes.
'Yea?'
'I think I've got it.'
The Emerald Tablet was a deli frequented by Zidattus on his free days.
Ten statues sit on a wall-mounted bench, images of the Lords of Music: Brugalb, Hixih, Khubbolb, Vhaojherh, Briogri, Aiuekhothlerc, Evraazas, Yicnedho, Iauzhervu and Itylkusz. Old gods like Zuus and Jiizas Krais have long fallen out of worship.
Marcellus Dominix, a devout Briogrian, does not appreciate the scorn with which this stranger eyes his images. She turns to him and asks in some rude Zambrovian:
'Who defeated Wipaczyk?'
'Your name, onna?'
'Boadicea.' She gets the pseudonym from a recent Abenteuerroman she read.
'Well, Boudica, you can walk your bomboklaat ass outta here. I'm guessing you're with some shady folks if you know about that.'
'Wrong answer.'
Cambel Hand unbuttons her jacket, revealing a black t-shirt with a familiar logo.
'Oh shit...'
She snaps her fingers and he flies up, slamming into the roof and dislocating his left shoulder.
He falls, landing on the cold concrete. Blood trickles from his nostrils and mouth.
'Seems you're more flesh than metal. Let's see how long you can last before you be a good boy.'
He can't tell her. If she's with the Devil's Dojo, he must buy Silas as much time as he can.
Eleven shadows enter the bar.
Meanwhile, Kuma watches the night sky on a rooftop somewhere in the Pi-Idu-Tokoro colony. He's just turned thirty, the beginning of many mid-life crises.
For now, nothing beats a beer from Psoglav. He sips in silence, wondering if he's doing all he can with his life.
As if in response, an eastern star descends from the sky. He makes a wish, wanting to tap into his hopeful inner child for a moment.
'I wish to die knowing I did my best.'
The star, strangely, stops its descent and turns course, seemingly making its way towards him. As it nears he realises it's shaped more like a creature than a meteor. The creature turns out to be a bear.
'Hmm...must be some strong shit this time...'
His bottle is empty. The golden bear reaches him and stops, floating in the air. They converse in Zambrovian.
'Who are you?'
'Nupuri-kor-Kamuy, an ancient protector of your people.'
'My people are gone. At least in spirit.'
'Your name, child?'
'Kumagami.'
'Lie not. Say your true name.'
'Chiramantep.'
He hasn't said it in two decades. Chiramantep Yamamoto, or Chira for short, has two names: a traditional one from his people's culture and a foreign one he uses on a day-to-day basis.
'Chiramantep, there is a boy you must protect. I am tasking you with the safety of this child until he fulfils his purpose.'
'Who's after him?'
'A group that descends from an old Earth cult called the Aionian Life. You will be an Ae-Oyna-Kamuy to the boy, shepherding his path of righteousness as he is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. You will be his keeper.'
'Haven't picked up the energiepistolen in a while. I think you should ask someone else, Michi.'
'Only you can bring him to the end. This will give you the purpose you have been searching for your whole life.'
'But I'm not a hero. And I'm not strong enough.'
The Great Bear God assures him in the language of his ancestors, words he has not heard since he was a child:
'Kuani anak ne inotu oma aep Ku ne ruwe ne; Kuani anak ne moshiri pekere Ku ne; Kuani anak ney apa Ku ne; Kuani anak ne pirika reshpa guru Ku ne; Kuani anak ne hetopo shiknu ambe Ku ne, inotu Ku ne ruwe ne; Kuani anak ne ruhu ne, sonep ne, inotu Ku ne ruwe ne; Kuani anak ne pungara Ku ne. What have you to fear?'
'Michi-sama, if I am to do this, I need your promise that you will be with me.'
'I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.'
Yerlik draws the Seal of Justice on the ground with special blue and white chalk:
He says the incantation:
'Tianshang tiansia, weiwo duzun.'
A circular doorway of dark blue light opens in the earth. Magic is banned on Zoster and all worlds part of the Magisterium Planetarum, but is the most convenient as it can't be easily traced.
They hop in one by one. The rescue mission is afoot.
It all started three months ago when Igor had a change of heart. After years of deliberation and cost-benefit analysis, he decided that it was unethical and cruel to eat living beings, particularly those with a nervous system that enabled them to process pain.
He decided to fight for the rights of non-human animals, but needed something big to start his activist journey. Something that could bring attention to the evils he saw in society. So he has decided to save a batch of Tengokutori from being killed.
These birds are subjects of the Nipatutori Project, property of C.O.R.W.I.N Battlesuits, a company whose Cybernetic Omnicompetent Radical Wireless Intuitive Nanotechnology has long been a staple of the Zosterian military. Recently Wigledottho Pharmacies, a partner of C.O.R.W.I.N, has begun testing a new combat drug on chickens, a chemical called Asuree that grants telekinetic powers.
Batch 216 has proven to be promising, but not perfect, so the seventy-two chickens will be put down and a new batch tested with a stronger cocktail of the drug. The team is currently in the Famdulo District of the Pi-Idu-Tokoro colony attempting to stop this.
'Instead of training, we're out here saving some premature chicken nuggets, just because Igor got an epiphany...'
'Shush, Venu. You agreed to come.'
'This was all a violation of my rights. I had no choice but to help lest you idiots end up dying.'
The birds will be transported in trucks to a slaughterhouse outside the city. For safety reasons they've been split into groups of six:
Truck Widder: Vaheva, Yolayo, Sayote, Alame, Meheshi, Lalahe.
Truck Stier: Achaa, Kaheta, Hezayo, Alada, Laava, Hehea.
Truck Zwillinge: Yozala, Mevehe, Hereyo, Hekome, Laava Junior, Kalayo.
Truck Krebs: Lavava, Pehela, Nulacha, Yoyoyo, Melahe, Cheheva.
Truck Loewe: Nutahe, Heaa, Yoreta, Shiahe, Reyoyo, Avame.
Truck Jungfrau: Lachave, Vashire, Yocheva, Laheche, Chavako, Menuda.
Truck Waage: Anuyo, Cheame, Rehea, Yoyoza, Hehehe, Meyocha.
Truck Skorpion: Vavala, Yolahe, Saala, Areyo, Ashila, Meyohe.
Truck Schuetze: Vaheva Junior, Danuyo, Hecheshi, Ameme, Nunua, Nuyota.
Truck Steinbock: Mevehe Junior, Fevayo, Numeme, Yoyola, Hereche, Metzare.
Truck Wassermann: Vameve, Yohehe, Anuva, Mecheyo, Damebe, Menuko.
Truck Fische: Ayoa, Cheveva, Reahe, Yoveme, Heyoyo, Mevame.
One truck for each person, with the final two intercepted by Igor. They will break in, take the birds and flee without much commotion.
The only problem is that things are about to get a bit more complicated. Assigned to guard these Tengokutori is a child mercenary named Maze Animikii Burnhead, nicknamed the 'Destroyer of Worlds.'
'One popkin, please.'
A sandwich of tomatoes, rutabagas, pickles, plum jelly, applesauce and corn relish, costing two cimeries.
Meg is busy texting her new 'friend', who's sending her bikini pics.
'You can humana-humana with Ashley after this is over. Till then we've got work to do.'
'Silence, virgin. At least I've got a life outside of music.'
Silas has his case tucked in his satchel, his violin slung over his shoulders. He feels a bit more prepared this time, questioning Esperansa Anheles at the counter who, going by her badge, seems to be the manager.
'Bwenas tardes, senyor! Ke tal?'
'Todo byen, i tu?'
On the wall he sees a quote in the language they are currently speaking, a descendant of an Earth tongue: En este weko mundo solo tenemos la investigasyon i la peskisa komo nwestras yaves. Being from an affluent background he's had time to master a few Earth-born languages, plus a dozen Zosterian ones.
He explains why he's here, repeating the password he got from the Amulet:
'Perros ladran porke tyenen osikos.'
He's promptly led to the next door after the usual process. Until his return, Meg orders some food for herself:
'I'd like some barbecue shrimp, boiled shrimp, broiled shrimp, baked shrimp, sautéed shrimp, shrimp kebabs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo, pan-fried shrimp, deep-fried shrimp, stir-fried shrimp, pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, a shrimp burger and a shrimp sandwich.'
'The Veintyun Kamarones Katedral costs ten cimeries.'
'Dealio.'
Silas is in a realm similar to that of Wipaczyk's. While the celestial bodies of Wipaczyk's world were a deep cherry red, the stars and planets here are a coppery orange.
Sickie stands at a hundred and five feet. His weapon, Yehudah Ish-Kerayot, is a Leukophoros Model 736, a solid-bodied black bass guitar with five strings. It can reach 196,883 decibels, the same as that of Broadcaster, so the fight will be more level.
'Let's get it over with.'
The fight is over in a few minutes. Silas has yet again managed to avoid death and score a narrow victory.
He and Sickie land on a nearby planet. As a sign of respect, he hands him a red piece of triangular plastic with a black manji on it.
'The secret to my playing. It's not about my fingers, but my pick. I've named it Plektron.'
He shakes Silas' hand, unlike Wipaczyk who had been too ashamed to do so. Silas takes the gift gratefully.
'Cheers, man.'
Silas turns around to leave, seeing the door that has appeared behind him.
Sickie offers some final words:
'Maybe you'll be happier with some less lofty goals?'
Not answering, Silas exits the realm.
He meets Meg outside, who's busy battling a mountain of shellfish with a large barbecue fork.
'Quick work?'
'I've been training. The rest will be a piece of cake.'
Their conversation is interrupted by a blade through Silas' chest.
A short sword of Zambrovian making is driven through his back and out through his ribcage. It's dragged down, slicing through Silas' torso like frozen butter.
Before Gwendolen Hyle can finish the job Meg tackles her, knocking her to the ground as she's about to split him down the middle.
'Kisama!!!'
Her Cursed Instrument Surprise, which takes the form of a pan flute, allows her to be invisible for a few minutes at a time, even bending light so she casts no shadow. She managed to sneak up behind the target but missed his heart.
'Iggy!'
Ignoge Coban and Cordella Gwantoke get up from their seats at the corner of the deli, throwing off their robes and pulling out their Instruments, Euphoria and Terror: these take the form of a clarinet and French horn.
Meg punches Gwen in the mouth, knocking out two teeth. She jams her thumbs into her eyeballs and presses till they burst, spraying blood all over the once-pristine floors.
The customers flee as the other Cursed Instrument users come out, weapons readied.
Silas is lying in a pool of his entrails. He's seeing smells and hearing colours, mouth and nostrils ceaselessly spewing blood. His organs are scattered everywhere, and he can see Meg fighting a few feet away.
'Mmm...mmm...mmm...mmm...Meg...'
He chokes on liquid warmth. The door swings open with a windy whine. Someone enters and accidentally steps on his kidney.
'Oops. Seems I was a little late.'
Chira fires, shooting Gwen in the head and splattering her brains across the floor. He turns and shoots Iggy and Cordy as they are about to use their Instruments.
'Jugakki...haven't seen those in a while.'
Meg shakily stands up, covered in blood. Chira takes in her appearance.
'Who are you?'
'Chira. Nihonjin-desu ka?'
'Hai. Satou Megami desu.'
'Ore wa Nihonjin ga suki janai desu, demo tetsudaimasu.'
'I need my chainsaw. Can you hold them back for a bit?'
'Dunzo.'
Chira fires away while Meg gets Svertoh from its case.
Chainsaw in hand, she rams the weapon into Mehetabel Peachey, who tries using her Aztec death whistle, Ostentation, on her: intestines dance in the air like ribbons as she opens her like a watermelon, the two halves hitting the floor perpendicular to each other.
Ragan Brertun, Gonorill Slade and Gwinefred Hutton make use of Lividity, Observation and Pity to knock her back, which take the form of maracas, a saxophone and cello, but Chira helps out with some spells:
'Tokapchup Kamuy!'
A bright ball of light materializes at the centre of the building, blinding its targets for a few seconds. Meg cuts them down, a foxlike grin on her face.
'I'm starting to enjoy this.'
There are five left. Gwinevera Skofeld and Estrild Kox, wielding Vision and Disgust which take the form of a tuba and trumpet, attack Chira and manage to knock his third pistol, Ruri, from his mouth. Left with two, he deploys a second magic attack:
'Inchin!'
A noxious moist gas rises from the earth, suffocating them and allowing Chira to shoot them point-blank.
Sabrina Kotope, with her bassoon Ferality, conjures up a beast of smoke that knocks Chira into a table. Realizing he's running out of bullets, he pulls out another spell:
'Arwan Nochiw!'
His energy blast splits into seven, shooting the beast and its summoner. Knowing he's used his bullets, he does one more enchantment:
'Nitne Kamuy!'
Giant venomous snakes drop from the ceiling, falling on Conwenna Bowen and enveloping her before she can use Insight, her vuvuzela.
'Oh...missed one.'
Cambel Hand with her harmonica Twistedness. Knowing he'll soon run out of magic as well, Chira huffs. He doesn't want to use this, but you should never give your foes time to use their tricks.
He uses a spell an old friend taught him as a last resort years ago:
Cambel crawls her way back to home base. While in the underworld she lost a leg and arm.
Her Cursed Instrument grants her a regenerative healing factor, making it more useful than the others. She makes it to the dojo's building, slamming on the door with a bloodied hand.
Orifus, the janitor, drags her limply inside. Four shadows stand at the back of the hall.
'Cyrii Cyrium, lords omnipotent, my weapon was broken in battle. I humbly request that it be mended so I may resume my duties.'
'And your sisters? What of them?'
'I seem to be the only survivor.'
'It was a mistake giving Vorgrakar's boons to such pathetic creatures.'
'Agreed.'
'Ru gsrh lmv xzm'g xlmgrmfv hviermt fh, rg dlfow yv yvhg gl kfg svi lfg lu xlnnrhhrlm. Kvinzmvmgob.'
'Wait! I can still work! I just need time to recov...'
Bilcresst stomps on her head till it resembles red porridge.
'I will finish the job.'
The others are in agreement.
Meanwhile, the team is prepared to attack the trucks. Yerlik spots a boy sitting in the passenger seat of the first vehicle and recognizes his eyepatch.
'Maze Burnhead. His left eye houses a ghostly entity, said to be his dead mother come back as an entropic being of incomparable power. The eye, which he calls Ederion and keeps closed with an adhesive patch, has a gravitational field like a small black hole, and if exposed will draw in anything within a two-mile radius. Matter, energy, people. In theory, if left uncovered for a long enough time, his eye could absorb all of creation.
His ability to end Everything has earned him the epithet Aheros Efshoris, the Destroyer of Worlds, among his cult of personality, which worships him as a god. Enemies and other mercs just call him Cygnus.'
'I get why they'd want someone this powerful protecting the chickens. The birds, though imperfect, are still pretty strong.'
'That won't stop me. My activism will only get widespread media attention if it impacts something big. And we've come too far to turn back.'
With that, they begin.
'Ashkanne Ramat.'
The spell heals in parts, so it has to be applied repeatedly.
'I thought magic didn't exist anymore.'
'Your boyfriend's instrument has magic in it.'
'He's not my...'
Silas coughs, opening an eye.
'Meg...'
'Had me scared, nii-nii. I thought you died for a moment.'
Meg and Chira continue their conversation as he heals Silas in their apartment. She notices an old tattoo on his neck: Bawon Samdi, Bawon La Kwa, Bawon Kriminèl, Bawon Simityè ak Grann Brijit, gen pitye pou mwen.
'Were those guys the Devil's Doorhole or whatever?'
'Yea. You were attacked by some Cursed Instrument users. They were using weapons born from a slain demon-god centuries ago. If an owner is killed their Instrument mysteriously finds its way to another person.'
Sorta like Silas, Megami thinks, eyeing his violin.
'I've never seen them together, though. It seems these users were gathered by the higher-ups at THH to stop y'all.'
'But why? What does a random rock band have to do with them?'
'I dunno. But I'll be accompanying you till your journey's done.'
'What you said earlier, about Nihonjin...'
'Don't wanna talk about it. Let's just say we're co-workers rather than allies, kay?'
'Kay.'
The little boy stares at the ornamented pink pedestal surrounded by a crowd. A stubby helmet-wearing man with reddish-magenta skin and a wispy grey beard is perched on it, his flabby stomach hanging over his cracked belt and pressing against his brown suit, covered with an assortment of coloured pins, badges and medals.
He shouts over the people in a strange speech, probably the Anglo-Zambrovian dialect because of its prevalence on this planet. A member of the species called Ashaxi by foreigners, or Æøåsçæcscì in their native tongue, he knows over sixty languages.
Two A-22s stand on either side of the pedestal. The lad sketches one at a distance with a dirty sketchpad and broken pencil, taking in its strange body with eight spindly legs, a large pair of synthetic flesh crab-claws and a bulbous humanoid head with mottled grey skin. Its face has slit serpentine nostrils, a thin mouth with no lips and two eyes, one small and red with a grey iris and black pupil and the other the size of a pomegranate with a big obsidian lens and white skull flashing on it for decoration. The skull eye is used to track escaped convicts and see through walls and buildings. A-22s are sometimes called 'guarders of life', which is ironic since they're made through synthetic tissue created from dead livestock.
After the man is done speaking he steps off the pedestal and makes his way through the crowd to a large red flying contraption, floating using charged magnetic levitation pads with an energy cannon attached to it.
The boy grabs the man's sleeve.
'What were you saying on that stand, sir?'
'I was hiring people for the militia, son.'
'Why?'
'A war is happening.'
'Against who?'
'A schadeocracy called the Zerstoerer. They kidnap unsuspecting people and do the most horrific things to them. Now they've got the kohones to hijack T.A.N.K.ers and travel to other planets, spreading their violence and a deadly chemically-engineered virus known as the Piggy Flu.'
He's heard of it. An abomination born from the darkest minds in the universe that attacks the immune system and gives a person nausea, coughing, rashes, insomnia, cysts, anaemia, paranoia, epilepsy, blindness, haemolacria, spontaneous abscesses, haemophilia, haemorrhagic shock, insanity and finally total organ failure.
'They've even killed a Mayor on Jazeerat Sagheerah. Having challenged the power of every government on every thriving planet, they must be eliminated soon. Thankfully there aren't that many of them left.'
'Can I join? I want to see what the militia is like.'
'You're too young. And you would have to go with your parents' consent.'
'My parents threw me out. I have nowhere to go, and I don't wanna be in an orphanage. I can clean your stuff or tidy your sheds, it wouldn't matter to me. Please let me join, sir.'
'If you're completely sure...'
'I'm nine-thousand nine-hundred and ninety-nine percent sure.'
'The youngest we take are twelve. How old are you?'
'I'm going to be thirteen next month.'
'Fine. We'll need as many people as we can get either way. Who knows? If you stay long enough, you might become a cadet! So what's your name, son?'
'Kumagami Yamamoto.'
'Ok, Kuma. Sign your name or signature on this paper and get in the red ReaPer-35A. We'll set off to Waahid, the planet you'll be staying on.'
Silas is healed in six hours. He's currently reading a book a friend recommended to him.
'What's that?'
'A complete riddle. Filled with contradictions, codes, puzzles, imagery taken from various mythologies, unnecessary complexities and esoteric ideas. It's a story about some teenage boy who has to fight members of a legendary cosmic band to become the greatest musician. His accomplice is a blade-wielding girl, a bloodthirsty and confident albatraoz with an angel's face and devil's grin. This odd mix of Apollinischen and Dionysischen Kunsttriebe has a deeper message being conveyed under its symbolism.'
The Amulet has given him the next clue: Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres.
'Gaul is all divided into three parts.'
A quick search on the online Nervbibliothek reveals it's from an old text supposedly penned by Caesar.
'How does this point to...'
His mind connects the dots. Zidattus followed Dudeism, a religion centred on going with the flow and applying an Epicurean and Daoist lens to life. The largest Dudeist group was the IDL, Ischtikawanen des Lebowski, of whom Will was a member.
'...and their primary commune was in the Walhaland Colony, also called Gaul.'
'Huh?'
'I know where the next Light is. Let's go.'
They touch base on the soft, welcoming soil of the monastery's land.
Silas sniffs the air, appreciating the scents of spices and crops. His limbs are charged with a new vital energy, and there is a welcome spring in his step. Meg's happy countenance is overshadowed by Silas' greater joy, which stems from Plektron, Sickie's guitar pick.
Silas has discovered the power of Plektron: it amplifies the positive qualities of objects around it. He finds that his drumsticks sound louder, his instruments play smoother, and everything about him seems better.
Carrying Plektron in his pocket, he notes how the light seems warmer and kinder, colours seem more vibrant, tastes and smells are more pleasant, and sounds are more appealing and enjoyable. Even unpleasant things, like the sound of barking dogs and the smell of sewers, take on a more optimistic shade. He feels quite confident about his next battle.
The main building is a spacious hotel-esque establishment with hundreds of rooms, some for worship and most for personal use.
One room, its door slightly ajar, interests Silas. It's the first you would see upon entering the building. Puffs of smoke emanate from under the door and he smells devil-grass.
The door seems to call to him. He pushes it and it swings open.
On his knees is a devotee to Taaraa the Liberatrix, chanting the names of the Jade Mother of Freedom:
'Om Taarinyai, Taralaayai, Tanvyai, Taaraayai, Tarunavallaryai, Teeraroopaayai, Taryai, Shyaamaayai, Tanuksheenapayodharaayai, Tureeyaayai, Tarunaayai, Teevragamanaayai, Neelavaahinyai, Ugrataaraayai, Jayaayai, Candyai, Shreemadekajataashiraayai, Tarunyai, Shaambhavyai, Chinnabhaalaayai, Bhadrataarinyai, Ugraayai, Ugraprabhaayai, Neelaayai, Krishnaayai, Neelasarasvatyai, Dviteeyaayai, Shobhanaayai, Nityaayai, Naveenaayai, Nityanootanaayai, Candikaayai, Vijayaaraadhyaayai, Devyai, Gaganavaahinyai, Attahaasyaayai, Karaalaasyaayai, Caraasyaayai, Aditipoojitaayai, Sagunaayai, Asagunaayai, Aaraadhyaayai, Hareendradevapoojitaayai, Raktapriyaayai, Raktaakshyai, Rudhiraasyavibhooshitaayai, Balipriyaayai, Balirataayai, Durdhaayai, Balavatyai, Balaayai, Balapriyaayai, Balarataayai, Balaraamaprapoojitaayai, Oordhvakesheshvaryai, Keshaayai, Keshavaayai, Savibhooshitaayai, Padmamaalaayai, Padmaakshyai, Kaamaakhyaayai, Girinandinyai, Dakshinaayai, Dakshaayai, Dakshajaayai, Dakshinerataayai, Vajrapushpapriyaayai, Raktapriyaayai, Kusumabhooshitaayai, Maaheshvaryai, Mahaadevapriyaayai, Pancavibhooshitaayai, Idaayai, Pingalaayai, Sushumnaapraanaroopinyai, Gaandhaaryai, Pancamyai, Pancaananaadiparipoojitaayai, Tathyavidyaayai, Tathyaroopaayai, Tathyamaargaanusaarinyai, Tattvaroopaayai, Tattvapriyaayai, Tattvajnaanaatmikaayai, Anaghaayai, Taandavaacaarasantushtaayai, Taandavapriyakaarinyai, Taaladaanarataayai, Kroorataapinyai, Taraniprabhaayai, Trapaayuktaayai, Trapaamuktaayai, Tarpitaayai, Triptikaarinyai, Taarunyabhaavasantushtaayai, Shaktibhaktaanuraaginyai, Shivaasaktaayai, Shivaratyai, Shivabhaktiparaayanaayai, Taamradyutyai, Taamraraagaayai, Taamrapaatraprabhojinyai, Balabhadrapremarataayai, Balibhuje, Balikalpinyai, Raamaroopaayai, Raamashaktyai, Raamaroopaanukaarinyai, shaantih shaantih shaantih...'
He interrupts the Ischtikawan's prayers:
'Um, excuse me?'
The devotee turns around. A joint, known colloquially as a durry, hangs from his lips, and grey-green fumes shroud his face. His body is cybernetic, with only his left eye still human.
'Whatcha want, son?'
Rising, he bows gently in the manner of the people descended from the Tatbiraja nation. His name is Cineantotapetetoun Shinotax Bayerawa Betetotta Cinebonlun Necrones Ukan Huna-Huna, Cino for short.
'I'm here to fight Vezapoulos.'
'I see. Well, let's get a C-Wire on you and we'll be done.'
Silas is approved.
'You, boy, can approach Vezapoulos. But the girl...'
'Must stay behind? Yea, I know the drill.'
Silas is shown a hidden door similar to those he's seen before.
Ermis Vezapoulos, standing at ninety feet, is a rhythm guitarist, the complement to Sickie's bass. His instrument is a sunny-yellow acoustic guitar named Baho de Una, capable of reaching 144,000 decibels.
Silas approaches him with no hesitation, lifting himself off the ground.
'Vezapoulos! I loved your solo in Highway to the Himmaleh, man!'
'Don't gush like a schoolgirl, chap. The magic was all in Zidattus.'
The fight is swift. Silas, with the confidence of Plektron, manages to deliver a well-timed power shot and claim victory.
'Well done. I know you have already bested some of my friends. But the journey from now will only get harder.'
He hands over one of Baho de Una's strings.
About to leave, Vezapoulos provides him with some final words:
'Zidattus was an angry man. It would hurt to see that repeat with you.'
Outside the monastery, Silas meets up with Chira and Meg.
'Another dub, guys. Let's head back.'
'Back where?'
They turn around, noticing a male cyborg of some kind. Chira sighs.
'The fourth Cyrius of the Templum Haiothi Hacadoschi, Bilcresst Whitmoone.'
'Sorry, but I'm not letting you leave.'
His Cursed Instrument is Pleasantness, which takes the form of a frog-shaped wooden gwiro he keeps in his chest. With this Gift of Vorgrakar, he summons multicoloured flames that can erase a person at the atomic level. They spill from his arm like overgrown feathers, incinerating everything they touch.
'You two get to the voiture. I'll see ya later.'
'Sure you'll be fine?'
'Maybe. What will be will be.'
He approaches the cyborg as Meg and Silas gun it.
'Chikap Kamuy!'
A swarm of owls erupts from his robes, launching themselves at Bilcresst. If he had eyes they would have pecked them till they were shredded and hanging from his sockets, but they have to make do with tearing his face, slicing it till it is nothing more than a lump of reddish flesh.
Bilcresst responds by regenerating his skin. Besides his Instrument, he also possesses a rapid healing factor.
'Buri Nazar vaale teraa mooh kaalaa!'
The spell is uttered as Chira fires point-black, hitting the cyborg in the chest. His shots, powered by the invocation, manage to drill into his core, nearly hitting his weapon.
'You're a tough bastard, yarou. Did your demon-god grant you a healing boon too?'
'Don't you dare even mention the Ignotus Deus so flippantly!'
'I don't answer to you, you giant burnt scrotum.'
'I was walking this planet when your mother was still wiping the shit from your ass. You're a fool if you think you can beat me, Ainujin.'
'We more commonly use Utari. I'm shocked you're so ignorant about ethnic terminology despite your age, ojii-san.'
'I'm gonna kill your friends and make you watch.'
'Well, can't have that happening, can I? Guess I gotta drop the kiddy gloves.'
He has used most of his shots and realizes quickly that bullets won't do much. Raising his right arm, he yells:
'Chuuchuu raburii munimuni muramura, purinpurin boron nururu rerorero!'
An iron baseball bat falls from the sky into his open palm. He grips it, slotting the pistols back onto his belt.
'Don't say I wasn't being nice.'
'What the f...'
Chira closes the ten metres between them in 0.0000000000001 milliseconds, striking Bilcresst in the face at 130 mph. His head explodes, the flesh getting singed by the speed.
'H...hohwew...'
'This bat is Axemamiliostrosplanghnonjjnonhgnalpsortsoilimamexa, a gift from an old friend. Ax's physical power is nothing special, but it temporarily grants me super speed.'
He's struck once more as he tries to regenerate.
'I find that people who talk a big game are usually weak as shit deep down. Thanks for proving my point, tomodachi.'
He makes quick work of him, smashing his head in each time he heals. Shoving his hand into the open wound, he reaches down his throat and rips into his chest cavity. His fingers touch wood.
'Bingo. I guessed you would have it here.'
He rips out the Instrument, crushing the wooden gourd like it's a ball of paper.
'This should weaken your healing factor.'
He shoots into his chest cavity, burning his insides and filling the air with a bacon-like stench.
'Damn you!!! Stop!!!'
'I make sure to do my homework before an assignment. From what I could find it seems you spent years honing your skills using people as guinea pigs. Including my people.'
His shots burst through Bilcresst's lower half, exploding the place his genitals would be.
'I'm not one to carry grudges, but I think it's high time you met your victims. Sayonara.'
As Bilcresst prepares to detonate, killing them both, he splits him in half, tearing through his body like a monstrous birth.
For good measure, he stomps on his head, then unloads his remaining bullets into his body. The military taught him to dead-check.
He feels a strange voidness on his left side. His left leg is gone, burned off as he was killing Bilcresst.
'I didn't even notice...life is funny...'
He blacks out.
When he comes to he's back in the apartment, lying on the couch with his stump bandaged. Meg is sitting next to him, his head facing up at her.
'Chira? Hello?'
'Mhgf...fg...I can hear you...how long was I out?'
'About two hours. With your injury, I'm surprised it wasn't longer.'
Silas joins them, exiting the kitchen with a plate of Jamiekan patties.
'We decided to wait for you and made our way back. By the time we got there, you were out cold.'
'How was that fight so easy?'
'I think he underestimated me. Also, I like to finish conflicts quickly. Part of my training, I guess.'
From where he lies he can get a closer look at Meg's face. Her strong chin, her ocean eyes, the mole near her lips. He can also tell, from the way her eyepatch is worn, that she doesn't need it.
'Regina Caeli...what's the patch for?'
'I...it makes me look tougher.'
He grins.
'Typical chuunibyou.'
'I'm not a chuunibyou, dammit! I have a frickin' chainsaw!'
They attack the trucks, making use of some under-the-counter firearms to blow out the wheels.
Maze gets his sword, a black ngulu. The blade has a non-cutting back and semi-circular concavity. The handle is surrounded by metal wire, ending with two large wooden buttons and a smaller one. It has two blades, ideal for executions but not meant for fast-paced combat. Its name is Jengu and he uses it to end his opponents' lives.
'You won't be using your eye, Mr. Burnhead?'
'That would be too great a risk to you and your drivers.'
'How considerate.'
'Not consideration. I just want to make sure there's someone to pay me by the end of this.'
Raamavijay Ajita is next. Before they leave for the designated spot, an old blitzfussball stadium once frequented by AW's members, Chira decides to prepare Silas and Meg. With his body out of commission and a new C.O.R.W.I.N leg weeks away from shipping, he figures some education regarding their enemies would be necessary.
'Magic is an esoteric science that surpasses the bounds of our natural world through methods yet to be discovered. It was banned a while back to combat the burgeoning crime rate, but is still used underground.
The Cursed Instruments are the boons of Vorgrakar, an entity who fused seventeen spirits into mundane objects with his dying breath. Sixteen of these Instruments are with the THH, but I believe the seventeenth, known as the Missing Instrument, is with Silas. Having been around the Jugakki and Silas' own gakki, I can tell they're the same.'
'Are you talking about his violin? Broadcaster?'
'That's not its true name. Each Instrument has a true name, that of its ruling spirit: Ampsiou Auraan, Boukoua Thardouou, Ouboukoua Thardeddein, Merexa Atar, Barba Oudouak, Esten Ouananin, Lamertarde Athames, Soumin Allora, Koubiatha Danadaria, Dammo Oren, Lanaphek Oudinphek, Emphiboche Barra, Assiou Ache, Belim Dexariche, Masemon and Exepaphos. But the name of the Missing Instrument is unknown, even to its owners.'
'Hold on. I thought Zidattus' violin was a gift from the Lords of Music?'
'Oh, those guys? They're about as real as my eleventh toe. The Ignotus Deus Vorgrakar is the true source of these magic objects.'
Meg has lived her life as a lapsed Aiuekhothlercan, but finding out there's not even a possibility her gods are real is demoralizing.
'Silas, you need to contact your Instrument's spirit and get it on your side. Even if you can't find out its name, you need to know it as an ally.'
'How do I do that? It's not like talking...'
'You talk to it.'
'Huh?'
'The spirits of the Instruments can be reasoned with. You will grasp greater power than what you have now if you can get your Instrument to trust you.'
They leave a few hours later. Chira stays back.
Ajita stands at seventy-five feet and plays AW's lead guitar, Herakles. He's also the band's backing vocals.
'Mister, it's a...'
'Shut up. Just fight.'
He attacks Silas without even an introduction, trying to slice the boy open with his sound.
When the battle finishes he bows in defeat, letting Silas go without a gift and with no advice.
'Seems he didn't like me.'
They are soon met outside by the Third Cyrius of the THH.
'Going by Chira's description, you're Starrzetteen Murreenleam.'
Her Instrument is Viscerality, taking the form of a blue ocarina.
'I'm not keen on fighting a woman.'
'Having a vagina won't stop me from believing my balls are bigger than yours.'
Meg offers a hand but Silas declines.
'Sorry to sideline you, but I'll do this alone. Buy some popcorn and take a seat.'
She leaves after giving him a pat on the head.
'Ganbare, ganbare, senpai!'
Maze slices at Venu, stabbing him in the gut as he attempts to break the lock on the truck's chained doors. The vehicles have stopped and the team is laying siege, doing their best to get the birds out.
Igor saves his friend from decapitation by throwing a fistful of chalk at the mercenary, slowing him down in the blue and white cloud while he drags Venu to safety.
Taking him behind a truck:
'Put pressure here. I'll be back.'
He presses on the wound with a sock Igor hands him.
'Have we made progress?'
'Yea. We just need to hold out till the truck comes.'
Strength in numbers. They have a few minutes while the Destroyer is confused by the eleven people attacking simultaneously. Only one superpowered merc was put in charge of this convoy as the heads at Wigledottho didn't want to blow their budget.
'If it all goes to shit, call Yauchty, ok?'
'Ok. Don't die.'
'Will try.'
He heads back out.
The fight goes considerably smoothly. Starrzetteen uses her psionic limbs to slice at and pummel Silas, who parries with his violin. They manage to keep their distance from each other, opting for long-range attacks. She remembers how Bilcresst was defeated and he remembers that time he got turned into a shish kebab.
They fight for two days. It's the longest Silas has stayed up, and by the end of it he's barely standing. Starrzetteen is bleeding from the nostrils, her powers pushed to their limit.
By a slim margin, his Instrument managed to overcome hers.
'You fight well. How do you practice?'
'I've got a friend who carries a chainsaw around. I'm sparring most of my free time just to survive.'
Two days in the past, the team has managed to set the chickens free. Maze is unable to multitask but isn't prepared to use his eye, giving time for their friend to pull up.
She drives to their location in her grey sushi truck, made to carry crates of iced fish and large enough to harbour some fugitive chickens today.
Maze is about to behead Yerlik when four thousand pounds smashes into him, barely missing Han.
'Just in time, Yauchty.'
'You've gotten taller, Yer. Seems the supplements I gave have worked.'
He stands and dusts himself off. While Maze is knocked out the boys round up the chickens and gently put them in the truck: the inside has been carpeted with dry hay and cushions for the comfort of its avian passengers.
'Thanks for the help, Yaucht.'
'Just remember your promise, Mihajlovich.'
Igor has sworn to protect her zylokarn while she's on a trip, in exchange for her assistance with the chicken rescue.
The Yea'haa'weh life cycle is split into stages of radical mitosis: it starts when an adult female lays a cluster of Eggs, round microscopic pods with leathery shells. These Eggs hatch into groups of Spires, so called because they resemble thick twisty icicles. These are encased in gelatinous sacs which open up when the Spires are ready to shoot out and transform.
Spires split into Primary Hordes, resembling large furry worms in the beginning, but later giant squids characterized by whiplike tentacles emerging from various parts of their bodies. The Primary Hordes split into Conglomerations, resembling larger Spires: these grow to the point of becoming giant spheres of flesh, and once they get to a certain size they split open, separating into Slugs. The Slugs are smaller red worm-like creatures that move by slithering. Eventually, the Slugs grow stubby legs and small tails and split into myriads of Babies. These Babies grow and finally divide into Juveniles, developing their forehead gems, fur and antlers, and the Juveniles grow into mature adults without cell separation, completing the cycle.
To handle the absurd amount of offspring produced in this process, young Yea'haa'weh are housed inside their mother's gemstone until they are Juveniles, after which they are released onto their unnamed home planet near Zoster to fend for themselves: one one-hundredth of the Juveniles will survive. This detachable forehead stone, called a zylokarn, contains a pocket dimension known as a Xyr'alith or 'Abyss.'
Female Yea'haa'weh lay clusters of 5,210,644,015,679,228,794,060,694,325,390,955,853,397,149,309,
953,825,381,775,591,280,356,090,833,797,121 Eggs.
Each Egg produces 6,864,797,660,130,609,714,981,900,799,081,393,217,269,435,300,
143,305,409,394,463,459,185,543,183,397,656,052,122,559,640,661,
454,554,977,296,311,391,480,858,037,121,987,999,716,643,812,574,
028,291,115,057,151 Spires.
Each Spire splits into 531,137,992,816,767,098,689,588,206,552,468,627,329,593,117,727,
031,923,199,444,138,200,403,559,860,852,242,739,162,502,265,229,
285,668,889,329,486,246,501,015,346,579,337,652,707,239,409,519,
978,766,587,351,943,831,270,835,393,219,031,728,127 Primary Hordes.
Each Primary Horde splits into 10,407,932,194,664,399,081,925,240,327,364,085,538,615,262,247,
266,704,805,319,112,350,403,608,059,673,360,298,012,239,441,732,
324,184,842,421,613,954,281,007,791,383,566,248,323,464,908,139,
906,605,677,320,762,924,129,509,389,220,345,773,183,349,661,583,
550,472,959,420,547,689,811,211,693,677,147,548,478,866,962,501,
384,438,260,291,732,348,885,311,160,828,538,416,585,028,255,604,
666,224,831,890,918,801,847,068,222,203,140,521,026,698,435,488,
732,958,028,878,050,869,736,186,900,714,720,710,555,703,168,729,087 Conglomerations.
Each Conglomeration splits into 1,475,979,915,214,180,235,084,898,622,737,381,736,312,066,145,333,
169,775,147,771,216,478,570,297,878,078,949,377,407,337,049,389,
289,382,748,507,531,496,480,477,281,264,838,760,259,191,814,463,
365,330,269,540,496,961,201,113,430,156,902,396,093,989,090,226,
259,326,935,025,281,409,614,983,499,388,222,831,448,598,601,834,
318,536,230,923,772,641,390,209,490,231,836,446,899,608,210,795,
482,963,763,094,236,630,945,410,832,793,769,905,399,982,457,186,
322,944,729,636,418,890,623,372,171,723,742,105,636,440,368,218,
459,649,632,948,538,696,905,872,650,486,914,434,637,457,507,280,
441,823,676,813,517,852,099,348,660,847,172,579,408,422,316,678,
097,670,224,011,990,280,170,474,894,487,426,924,742,108,823,536,
808,485,072,502,240,519,452,587,542,875,349,976,558,572,670,229,
633,962,575,212,637,477,897,785,501,552,646,522,609,988,869,914,
013,540,483,809,865,681,250,419,497,686,697,771,007 Slugs.
Each Slug splits into 446,087,557,183,758,429,571,151,706,402,101,809,886,208,632,412,
859,901,111,991,219,963,404,685,792,820,473,369,112,545,269,003,
989,026,153,245,931,124,316,702,395,758,705,693,679,364,790,903,
497,461,147,071,065,254,193,353,938,124,978,226,307,947,312,410,
798,874,869,040,070,279,328,428,810,311,754,844,108,094,878,252,
494,866,760,969,586,998,128,982,645,877,596,028,979,171,536,962,
503,068,429,617,331,702,184,750,324,583,009,171,832,104,916,050,
157,628,886,606,372,145,501,702,225,925,125,224,076,829,605,427,
173,573,964,812,995,250,569,412,480,720,738,476,855,293,681,666,
712,844,831,190,877,620,606,786,663,862,190,240,118,570,736,831,
901,886,479,225,810,414,714,078,935,386,562,497,968,178,729,127,
629,594,924,411,960,961,386,713,946,279,899,275,006,954,917,139,
758,796,061,223,803,393,537,381,034,666,494,402,951,052,059,047,
968,693,255,388,647,930,440,925,104,186,817,009,640,171,764,133,
172,418,132,836,351 Babies.
Each Baby splits into 259,117,086,013,202,627,776,246,767,922,441,530,941,818,887,553,
125,427,303,974,923,161,874,019,266,586,362,086,201,209,516,800,
483,406,550,695,241,733,194,177,441,689,509,238,807,017,410,377,
709,597,512,042,313,066,624,082,916,353,517,952,311,186,154,862,
265,604,547,691,127,595,848,775,610,568,757,931,191,017,711,408,
826,252,153,849,035,830,401,185,072,116,424,747,461,823,031,471,
398,340,229,288,074,545,677,907,941,037,288,235,820,705,892,351,
068,433,882,986,888,616,658,650,280,927,692,080,339,605,869,308,
790,500,409,503,709,875,902,119,018,371,991,620,994,002,568,935,
113,136,548,829,739,112,656,797,303,241,986,517,250,116,412,703,
509,705,427,773,477,972,349,821,676,443,446,668,383,119,322,540,
099,648,994,051,790,241,624,056,519,054,483,690,809,616,061,625,
743,042,361,721,863,339,415,852,426,431,208,737,266,591,962,061,
753,535,748,892,894,599,629,195,183,082,621,860,853,400,937,932,
839,420,261,866,586,142,503,251,450,773,096,274,235,376,822,938,
649,407,127,700,846,077,124,211,823,080,804,139,298,087,057,504,
713,825,264,571,448,379,371,125,032,081,826,126,566,649,084,251,
699,453,951,887,789,613,650,248,405,739,378,594,599,444,335,231,
188,280,123,660,406,262,468,609,212,150,349,937,584,782,292,237,
144,339,628,858,485,938,215,738,821,232,393,687,046,160,677,362,
909,315,071 Juveniles.
'Let's move. I don't expect eyepatch kid will stay down for long.'
In the future a few miles away, Zouvereine feels the presence of his comrade fading. It seems she has failed.
'I guess I'll have to kill the boy. Never trust a woman to do a man's job.'
It's been weeks since the battle with the 'psychic chick', as Silas calls her. They let her escape out of pity: unbeknownst to them she died of exhaustion a few miles from the stadium.
Things, generally speaking, have felt too easy. Silas sits on the couch, a feeling of paranoia hanging over him like a damp towel.
Speaking of towels, Meg tosses his at him.
'You need to wash your towel. It smells like ass, literally and figuratively.'
'And you need to shave your pits.'
'I'm not keen on doing danger yoga in the shower with blades just to feel like a dolphin for a day and a half. Body hair's only unhygienic if you don't wash it.'
Chira's new leg has come in. It will take him a while to get used to it, but he's managing with small movements around the apartment.
'I'll soon be able to accompany you again, though you already seem capable on your own.'
Haime Krakusantos is next. Silas is hoping their fight is more exciting. The medallion has been silent for a while.
Until it responds, he must deal with the nightmares.
They began a few days after he defeated Starrzetteen. He's seen himself being tortured and killed over and over. One time a carnivorous centipede was jammed into his ear and it ate his brain. The other time he was force-fed his testicles after they were chopped off with a pair of scissors.
Sometimes he's doing evil things to other people. Last night he even assaulted Meg. The dreams are so vivid and detailed that he can't forget them even when he wakes up, and carries the guilt and shame for the rest of the day.
According to Chira, this is the work of the Cursed Instrument Occultness, taking the form of a sitaar.
'Zouvereine Zinchourch. The Second Cyrius of the Templum.'
'I wanna hunt him down and kill him. This will drive me insane if it goes on any longer.'
'He's trying to break your spirit, discourage you from achieving your mission. You need to push on despite that.'
'But it's so hard, man. Why the hell does life have to be so unfair?'
They're sitting on the roof of the apartment complex, the moon above them. Silas is too scared to sleep.
'I dunno. It seems life has it out for some people. Including mine.'
'Meg told me that you said you hated Nihonjin.'
'I don't. Or at least I don't like them. I'd say my reasons are justified.'
'I won't ask you...'
'But I might as well tell you.'
He recalls the stories of his ancestors, their history trampled under by the boots of the wealthy and vile.
'We had our own homeland, Aynu Moshir, which stretched across Hokkaido, Sakhalin and the Kuril Islands on Earth. In the seventeenth to early eighteenth century, the government decided that we were simply too different, too 'other', to be left alone, and began a policy of forced assimilation. Our territories were annexed and we were treated as dirty and primitive barbarians.
We were denied the right to speak our language, gather or hunt on our traditional lands. We were also, to add frosting to the shit cake, subjected to genocide and were forced to intermarry to become one with the predominant ethnic group of the country.
When humans started leaving Earth some of my ancestors left too, going where the Nihonjin were establishing their colony as no other nations wanted us. Some of our language was preserved and passed down, but today most of it is gone. Because we don't pass the five million threshold we aren't allowed to have our own territory, and so we're slowly disappearing once again.
My hatred drove me into the military. It gave me an excuse to kill and vent my frustrations. During this time I met an Ayisyen man skilled in the forbidden art of magic.
We became close friends. We even have matching neck tattoos. But all good things have to end. Bad things too. Five million years from now there will be no one who remembers or cares about you. No one who could say they know you, love you or want your legacy maintained. Entropy is the natural state of existence, and when we die we'll return to what we were before we were born. There is no divine meaning, no predestined plan, no true deities beyond those which reside in the human breast.
So amid all this meaninglessness, all this pitiless indifference, what can we do? How do we even live? My answer, after years of pain and trauma, is that I'm not a victim of fate. You're not a victim of fate. This meaningless, substanceless void we call existence can be filled with beauty, even if for a short time. Because you can choose to live for a future you'll never see, or enjoy the now. For myself I choose the latter.'
After that, the nightmares felt less scary. A few days later the Amulet gave the next clue.
Haime stands at sixty feet and plays the keyboard, his Yorona de Asul Seleste.
'It is an honour to meet you, Mr. Krakusantos.'
'The honour's mine, lad. Soi la persona mas rara ke konoses, pero nunka me olvidaras.'
The fight is a welcome change to the sweaty stressful nights he's had to deal with. And unlike the sombre Ajita, he feels Haime's not trying to kill him.
By the end of it, he's won, as it seems nonexistent fate intended.
'Have this as a little gift. La grasya del Senyor Hesukristo, i el amor de Dios, i la partisipasyon del Espiritu Santo sea kontigo.'
It's a button from his keyboard.
'Fell off a while back and I never had it fixed. It's felt like a good luck charm to me.'
Silas takes it and puts it in his pocket.
'Muchas grasyas.'
'De nada, chamako.'
He leaves, a burden taken off his shoulders.
Speaking of shoulders, the boys have been putting new burdens on Yauchty's by taking care of the chickens at her sushi place, housing them in a small shed she had built in her back garden.
'It's been weeks, Igor. What're you planning to do with the birds?'
'Let's keep them here for now.'
'Didn'tcha say you were gonna give 'em to an animal shelter?'
'We need to keep them close until we can ensure eyepatch dude or his cronies won't come for them.'
The next in the hierarchy is Kazuki Kanagamuna. The Amulet points them to an aquarium, Nethuns' Fishbowl, where the owner's son meets them at the checkout spot near the merch store.
The usual C-Wire procedure is done, but this time Meg is allowed to go with Silas.
'Why this time?'
'Maybe your motivations or something have changed? I dunno, these rules and precautions make no sense to me.'
Kazuki is forty-five feet tall and wields his tambourine, Niyati. Meg stands on a nearby planet, ready to jump in with her chainsaw if need be.
'You got this, Silas! Eff him up!'
'Kimi wa Jugakki o tsukatte imasu ne?'
'Nakama kara ore wa Yukue Fumei no Gakki o tsukatte iru to kiita. Ore wa jibun no Gakki to no komyunikeishon o kokoromite ori, Gakki ga ore no iu koto o kiite iru to shinjite iru.'
'Tall claims, lad. Well, let's dance.'
This battle is the longest so far. Meg gets bored and sunbathes near a dying star, Svertoh resting near her. By the end of it, when Silas wins by a narrow margin as usual, Kazuki bows respectfully and compliments his skill.
'You must have some luck on your side, coming this far.'
'Not luck. Just talent. You should combine capacity with strategy lest it remain potential.'
He doesn't get a gift but leaves with Meg with a smile on his face. Last night he had a nightmare involving salamanders that woke him up with a cold sweat, but he won't focus on that today.
'Burgers?'
'Sure. I know a spot near Famdulo.'
Zoster is split into sixty-eight Colonies or Respublicae on the main planet, seventeen per state, with a colony for each satellite territory. On the head planet you could drive from one Respublica to the next, these individual nations connected like a giant city of countries.
Their official names were Gomer, Magog, Madai, Javan, Thubal, Mosoch, Thiras, Aschenez, Riphath, Thogorma, Elisa, Tharsis, Cetthim, Rodanim, Chus, Mesraim, Phut, Chanaan, Saba, Hevila, Sabatha, Regma, Sabathacha, Seba, Dedan, Ludim, Anamim, Laabim, Nephthuim, Phetrusim, Chasluim, Caphtorim, Philisthim, Sidon, Hetth, Jebus, Amorr, Gerges, Hev, Arac, Sin, Arad, Samar, Emath, Elam, Assur, Arphaxad, Lud, Aram, Us, Hul, Gether, Mes, Sala, Heber, Phaleg, Jectan, Elmodad, Saleph, Asarmoth, Jare, Adoram, Uzal, Decla, Ebal, Abimael, Soba, Ophir, Havila and Jobab. Meg's ancestors were from the Respublica Sinae, known colloquially as Pi-Idu-Tokoro. Famdulo, located in her home country, is a voiture away.
Speaking of Famdulo, Maze has by now found the boys' hideout.
He's preparing to attack.
'The last one.'
'It's been a good journey. Despite some setbacks, we've been mostly fine.'
'Thanks for protecting me, Meg. And for seeing this through with me even if you didn't get to fight that much.'
'Life's more than fighting, nii-nii. I was just enjoying the ride.'
Meg will need to crank her chainsaw soon enough.
The final clue takes them back to the Beyesa.
'Wait...the locations made a loop?'
'It seems we end from where we began.'
Outside a shady guy is selling what looks like blue and pink marshmallows.
'What's this?'
'How old are you?'
'Um, eighteen.'
'Nahar Kevar. The newest zaza on the street. Shit's so strong it makes you see angels.'
'Oh...well, I don't usually...'
He considers for a bit. If it's like the 'zaza' at St. Zylothor's, it could help Chira with the pain in his leg stump. It also seems to be much cheaper.
'I'll buy one kashiori of it, please.'
He gets a box of NK for a hundred cimeries.
Inside he meets Dulcioreloca Multigruma Dominix, daughter of Marcellus.
'I'm here for...'
'Dad told me on his deathbed.'
Silas puts two and two together. They began their journey two months ago. His death, probably caused by the Devil's Dojo, would still be quite fresh.
'I'll take you to the door. Do your shit and piss off. I don't wanna see you in this neighbourhood, let alone this bar, ever again. Understood?'
He nods. Meg is tempted to retort but decides against it.
The final door. Unlike his first time, he opens this himself and hops in with a swan dive.
The Musicant realms he has visited have each been a different shade of the rainbow. This realm is a deep indigo, like Meg's eyes when the right time of day brings the perfect amount of sunlight.
Vittorio Cassiapo is thirty feet tall and plays the saxophone, a Tafust Kybrider 2 named Cyrius ho Theus ho Pantocrator.
'Buongiorno, Silas!'
'Hajimemashite, man! I listen to your solo album on repeat when I'm reading.'
'That's the greatest compliment I could get, being a bookworm myself.'
Silas is ready. He bows and they begin.
The rhythm of Vittorio's sax rumbles through the pocket world like an iron heart.
Days pass. Then months. Soon an entire season has come and gone. But no response from the Amulet.
Silas holds it in his palms like a precious gem, praying to whoever hears him that it responds. He didn't come all this way to simply meet a dead end.
'I need to complete this. I started this out intending to finish it, no matter what blocks I faced or how unmotivated I became. This is my legacy, what I plan on leaving behind. So please don't fail me now.'
No response.
One evening Silas is vacuuming their flat when he notices the kashiori on the shelf. Taking it down, he sees that Chira has eaten most of it but left two.
He takes a marshmallow out and bites into it, feeling a strange goo mixed with fine sandy particles like sugar fill his mouth. It tastes like tomato soup, roast beef and blueberry pie, the combination surprisingly not half bad.
And then it hits him.
He is taken to a place where you can taste colours and smell sounds, but everything is shrouded in darkness.
'Greetings, Silas.'
'Huh? Who are you? Where are you?'
'Behind you.'
He turns around and is faced with an alien entity, something beyond his best description.
'I am the Tree of the Klifot. Without father, without mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days nor end of life.'
'What are you? Are you an angel?'
'I am from when creation was an infant and time was a fairy tale, a survivor of the supernal war.'
'Chira didn't mention seeing you when he took the NK.'
'He was not meant to see me. Our meeting was within the flow of fate.'
'I don't believe in fate.'
'Neither do I.'
'But you just said...'
'Listen, Silas. In two days the Amulet will answer you. You will be shown the path to the Bone Guitar. Two souls will be attempting to stop you from getting to the Guitar: should you prevail, you will become the next leader of AW.'
'And if I fail?'
'The cosmic balance will be thrown into disorder and chaos will consume all.'
'What?'
'It is time you got some explanations. I will not repeat myself, so pay attention as best you can and without interruption:
In the beginning was the Big Bang.
Space was expanding into itself and energy manifested in particles: from gluons pairs of quarks were created, which destroyed one another after giving off more gluons. These found other quarks to interact with, forming new quark pairs and gluons in a repeating cycle. It was so hot that matter and energy were practically the same thing.
Eventually matter outnumbered antimatter and several refined versions of natural law developed, acting under different rules, including strong nuclear force and gravity. When the cosmos had stretched to a billion kilometres in diameter, it decreased in temperature and the cycle of quarks being born and converted back to energy came to a stop. Quarks begin forming hadrons like protons and neutrons.
The cosmos, which had now grown to one hundred billion kilometres, was cold enough to allow most of the neutrons to decay into protons and form the first atom: Hydrogen.
Things cooled and settled down rapidly and atoms formed out of hadrons and electrons, making for a stable and electrically-neutral environment. When the hydrogen gas clumped together after millions of years and gravity put it under great pressure, stars and galaxies began to form. Their radiation dissolved the stable hydrogen gas into a plasma that allowed visible light to pass.
From this plasma legions of cosmic beings were born, the first eight of which came to be known as the Old Gods. After some time the plasma-based lifeforms achieved self-awareness.
If they gave themselves any names, these are long forgotten. Corigon, as the Fabae of Dimension XVIII call them, was the most curious of the Eight, and wanted to explore the cosmos to its ends.
They journeyed into each Dimension, noting how the twenty-five were quite similar to each other. Five Worlds had taken form, each with five Dimensions within them, and in each Dimension there was a version of the planet Earth, the solar system, and everything else. Perfect replicas, like a collection of snowglobes or equal rays of light refracted through a prism.
Corigon wanted to know how this all worked. Their investigation into the structure of the cosmos led them to find two newly-born divine beings: one of stifling Order, one of entropic Chaos, both malevolent and hungry.
The two nameless beings were hostile, and Corigon retreated to their celestial siblings.
War began, but not war as you would understand it. During this time many higher beings came into existence, some the product of other higher beings and others ex nihilo.
Tagaats, known as the Singer, suggested a trap for the two foes. They created from themselves a Cosmic Serpent, a being capable of manipulating time.
The Serpent helped the Ogdoad outsmart the Two Innominata, and they were able to bind the parasites behind a cosmic veil. This was in 3102 BCE of your calendar, and for years peace would be maintained.
A few centuries passed. The Eight Old Gods grew senile with time.
Eventually the group decided to go their separate ways. After all, it seemed the Dimensional threats had been dealt with.
Things rapidly changed. Corigon the Careful went to a planet in an unspecified Dimension and wiped their memories so they could live as a human without powers. Jelin the Yearning went mad and killed themselves because eternity was too much to handle. Wandolin the Wise became so powerful they exploded from their own energy. The fates of Isthimus the Infamous, Kaliss the Cold, Muril the Mighty, Rallimantis the Raging and Osis the Old are unknown.
Soon the Entity and their sibling, called Deywos or Ziewas by lower life forms, were able to crawl back into reality. The Entity visited Dimension XXII in 2400 BCE, meeting with a human king in Ancient Egypt who would become their first servant. The planet Earths of Dimensions XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV and XXV would fall to the Entity.
It was 2015 CE in Dimension XI and 2012 in Dimension I when the Entity and Ziewas would both accumulate enough power to make war again: the Entity has built up a family of cosmic beings and an army of mutated humans to assist them, and Ziewas has taken over planet Earth in Dimension XI through the vessel of a human girl. Should they begin their attack now, there would be few left to defend creation.
This is why, before their disbandment, the Old Ones devised the Music of the Spheres to keep the Entity and their sibling at bay. The idea was proposed by Muril and is their last resort.
Under the guise of the manufactured Lords of Music a Cursed Instrument, the product of the higher being Vorgrakar, was given to Wilhelm Zidattus of Dimension XVIII, where you live. This Instrument, separated from its sixteen siblings, possesses power unlike its kin and can hold back the two Lords of Destruction as long as it has a player at a specific location, the place where AW would have their concerts.
Will unknowingly held back Evil during his lifetime, and in the time he's been gone you were selected to fill in the vacancy he left. This is your destiny. All the Dimensions, all of creation, are in your hands.'
Silas is speechless.
'My head hurts. You're telling me my dumb obsession with music is what's gonna save reality?'
'Some of my kind would argue that it was unnecessary to tell you this, but it was within the current of causality to inform you. So long as the Great Evils are kept at bay I have the opportunity to fill in the power vacuum they left. Even gods have egos, you know.'
'So what happens once I become AW's leader? Do I just perform for the rest of my life?'
'You will be a musician for your entire existence, and then a successor will be chosen when you die. That was the system Will inadvertently created which serves to protect the cosmos.'
Silas thinks about what this means. Never having a life outside what amounts to a job, eternally combating the forces of evil like an enduring pessimist. No wonder Will got burned out.
'I don't want it. This role, this burden. Give it to someone else.'
'There is no one else. You were destined for the role. The role will be given to someone else upon the end of your natural life.'
'But why me??? This is so goddamn unfair!!!'
'Language, my boy. You cannot question the ways of the worlds: all things work together for Good.'
He comes to on the floor of the apartment before he has a chance to say something. His gums hurt and his eyes are sore.
Struggling to his knees, he makes his way to the fridge and drinks some milk straight from the carton. He fishes a stale croissant from the cupboard and eats it with no condiments, then sits on the couch and cries. He weeps till his bones ache and he falls asleep.
When he wakes up he makes his decision.
'For Meg. For the people I care about, I will carry this burden.'
Two days later the Amulet responds.
Miles away, Maze Burnhead launches his attack.
He fires indiscriminately at the building with an energiegewehr. His clients have permitted him to kill at will, and he plans to neutralize the Tengokutori as well.
He removes his eyepatch, keeping Ederion shut until he can release it. The less property damage, the less will be taken out of his reward money to cover expenses.
Something strikes the back of his head. It rolls in front of him, its black and white panels glistening in the sun.
'A blitzfussball?'
'We just call it soccer.'
He turns around and is met with a fist to the face. Yerlik grabs the skinny boy by the throat.
'Now, Igor!'
An arrow hits Maze in the eye. Yauchty and Igor are on a nearby roof, sniping him from a distance.
'Arghhhh...motherf...'
Yerlik slams him on the ground as Venu comes out from behind a bush and teabags him.
'This is for stabbing me, you psycho!'
Unfortunately, Igor shot the wrong eye.
Maze unleashes his anomaly. A massive storm of gravity drags at everything, pulling in matter and energy. His 'mother' is eating.
Yerlik runs but finds himself getting pulled back.
'Han!'
Venu is being drawn in. He reaches out, seizing him by the arm.
'Keep moving, you salak!'
Igor fires another arrow, but it gets absorbed into his eye.
'Okay! This looks unwinnable.'
Nonetheless, he continues firing, hoping his friends can escape the impossible pull and make their way to where he is.
And then a miracle happens.
The Tengokutori escape from their shelter. It seems they used their powers to open the lock.
Noticing one of their captors, they circle Maze and begin chanting in telepathic voices, the words heard by all who are present:
'Wevedswine Femsdire. First Cyrius of the Devil's Dojo, and the wielder of the Cursed Instrument Satisfaction.'
'Good to see you in person, Silas Crowe. It was such a bore frequenting your doujin-infested mind.'
'R kozm gl gzpv blfi svzw slnv zh z gilksb. Gsrh droo yv evib znfhrmt.'
'Silas, Meg, run for it.'
'But...'
'I'll buy you time. Get to the end while I distract them.'
'You sure you'll be fine?'
'What will be will be.'
Chira grabs Silas' elbow as Meg goes ahead.
'You've got a good friend, Silas. Don't let her go.'
He nods.
'Gotcha.'
'Sayonara, nakama.'
Silas runs as Chira fires at Zouvereine.
'Horokew Kamuy!'
His bullets turn into large winged wolves, launching themselves at their target. He and the other Cyrii gave up their humanity in a pact with Vorgrakar for superhuman powers long ago, but he's still humanly surprised at the attack.
As the dogs bite at his bones and nearly topple him, he retaliates with a spell of his own:
'I beseech thee, Marduk Lord of Magicians, by thy fifty names: Marukka, Marutukku, Mershakushu, Lugaldimmerankia, Narilugaldimmerankia, Asalluhi, Namtila, Namru, Asari, Asaralim, Asaralimnunna, Tutu, Ziukkenna, Ziku, Agaku, Tuku, Shazu, Zisi, Suhrim, Suhgurim, Zahrim, Zahgurim, Enbilulu, Epadun, Gugal, Hegal, Sirsir, Malah, Gil, Gilimma, Agilimma, Zulum, Mummu, Zulummu, Gishnumunab, Lugalabdubur, Pagalguenna, Lugaldurmah, Aranunna, Dumuduku, Lugalshuanna, Irugga, Irqingu, Kinma, Esizkur, Gibil, Addu, Asharu, Neberu, Ninnuam!'
A tornado erupts from his skeletal hand, slithering its way to Chira as Wevedswine heads off to take out Silas and Meg.
'Nice trick, Aynu dog, but we're not so easily distracted.'
'This Aynu dog was counting on something like that.'
'What...?'
'Now I can go all out.'
A two-stage spell involving Blood Magic, the rawest form of the art. More dangerous than the Black or White varieties, this one will cost him everything. But if he can make their journey easier, it will all be worth it.
'Kunnechup Kamuy!'
He drops his mouth pistol and shoots himself through the chin with his left-hand gun, his head bursting open like a chocolate fondue fountain.
A globular egg emerges from his brain, speckled with silver spots like the craters on the moon. This egg bursts open as Chira utters his second invocation:
'Yaoshkep Kamuy!'
Yaoshkep Huchi, the Great Spider Goddess, answers his call. Reeds sprout from all pores in his skin, turning him into a round ball. The egg hatches within this ball and its inhabitant emerges, a large silver spider.
The spider turns into a giant chestnut and smashes into Zouvereine's face, crushing his skull and knocking his head off. It then transforms into a lattice of needles and stabs him all over, throwing him off balance. Then it becomes a swarm of hornets and swallows him whole, making him crash onto the staircase.
It then turns into a brood of vipers and strangles him, crushing his bones to stop his movement. It finally turns into a mortar and pestle and grinds him to dust. The pile of crushed bone fades away, carried off by the winds of time.
'Dust thou art, and unto dust thou hast returned...'
He collapses, feeling his life fading. In the distance he can see Silas and Meg, bolting for the end, and smiles.
'Thank you...Life...for granting my wish...'
He shuts his eyes, joining his friends in the peace of eternal rest.
Meanwhile, Silas and Meg have made it to the end.
Rynedaledostossyne, the Cosmic Dragon, has 70,000 heads, each head with 70,000 faces, each face having 70,000 mouths and each mouth 70,000 tongues. He sings praises of the cosmos in 1,680,700,000,000,000,000,000,000 different languages.
Wevedswine is blocking the way to the beast, his giant circular body glowing with consuming fire.
'Meg, could you...'
'D'you have to ask?'
She revs her chainsaw. Svertoh rattles with a thirst for blood.
'I have some qualms about killing people, so thanks for making this easy by being whatever the hell you are.'
She makes a dash for the enemy as Silas runs to the dragon.
Malgeun haneure haetsal bichwo,
Hamkke geonneun gireul bwa,
Urin hamkkehae, modu da hamkke,
Yonggiwa huimangeul ango.
Modu hamkke chumchuneun bam,
Jeo haneul wiro naragalge,
Duryeoumeul tteolchyeonaego,
Uriui kkumeul hyanghae naaga.
Yonggi itge, damdamhage,
Duryeoumeul igineun geoya,
Binnaneun jeo haetsalcheoreom,
Deo balgeun naeireul mandeureo.
Eonjena hamkkehaneun urideul,
Himeul moaseo noraehalge,
Oneureul mitgo naeireul hyanghae,
Uriui kkumeul pyeolchyeogalge.
Nunbusin miraega urireul gidaryeo,
Jeo bada neomeo nopi naragalge,
Hanadoen uriui himeuro,
Duryeoumeul igigo naagalge.
Yonggi itge, damdamhage,
Duryeoumeul igineun geoya,
Binnaneun jeo haetsalcheoreom,
Deo balgeun naeireul mandeureo.
Huimangi neomchineun uriui norae,
Ijen hamkkehaneun yonggiui sigan,
Uriga hamkkeramyeon eotteon eoryeoumdo,
Igil su isseo, gyesong naagalge.
Meanwhile, Silas climbs up the back of the passive wyvern and spots a white orb of light at his heads.
He approaches it, making out the shape of a guitar.
'Finally...the end...'
'Before you proceed, let's have a chat.'
'Wh...'
He turns around. Standing before him is Will Zidattus.
The lead singer and violinist of AW is six feet tall, an aura of a hundred colours surrounding him.
'Impressive of you to come this far. Many have tried and failed.'
'How are you...'
'Oh, this? It's a Fuerst der Angesichter. A holographic machine that can produce a virtual image of a person after their passing based on whatever records and information is given to it. As I was dying a C-Wire was plugged into my head so I could download the information I needed to on a hard drive. Supplementary data was taken from the recorded messages I'd left the band before my final concert.'
'So basically, I'm talking to a ghost.'
'An artificial intelligence with the visage of a dead man. Technology's an amazing magic.'
They converse while sitting crosslegged on the dragon's back, Meg's battle noises heard in the distance.
'Why do you want to be the leader of Adiseschen Wasughi?'
'I'm your biggest fan and...'
'The real reason, Silas. We all have our real reasons under what we tell people.'
'Well...I want to be remembered. I want to write things, make creative art that leaves behind something people can enjoy and discuss. I want to leave some mark behind.'
'Do you imagine you will achieve the same fame as your predecessors in this space?'
'No. Of course not. I will probably never come close to the people who inspire my work. But I can try and become something on my own.'
'Where do your loved ones fit in this?'
'I'm not sure, to be honest.'
The hologram mechanically sighs.
'I might be a construct, alter, but lemme tell you a bit about my life. The one I lived off-stage.
It was great. I had everything I wanted or needed, but was constantly surrounded by yes-men who were more enablers than friends. Soon enough I became disillusioned by the blinding lights.
Even my fellow bandmates couldn't help me with this void I felt. The passion, there in the beginning, slowly turned into a burning, nauseous stomach trying to digest me into nothing. What was once a passion became a job, and I decided that it was better to burn out than to fade away.
It was great in the beginning, but some things are too good to last. With all this in mind, are you sure you want to take on this role?'
He thinks about it.
'Well, I know that the job might become hellish sometimes. But I'm hoping that I can avoid the mistakes you made and find ways to see the light once more.
At the end of the day, I'm doing this because I want to stand at the top with Meg beside me. So I will proceed, assuming my Cursed Instrument that once belonged to you agrees to help me.'
'I will.'
'Wait what...'
It's his violin. Broadcaster's spirit has spoken for the first time.
'You can talk!'
'Duh. I was just waiting for the right moment.'
'So, you'll help me?'
'Definitely.'
Will grins.
'I guess it's settled. You can have the Bone Guitar.'
As soon as he says this the guitar appears in front of him.
The neck is made of femurs, the tuning keys teeth, the frets shaved down fingers, the body Will's ribcage and pelvis and the head Will's skull.
Will himself now begins to disappear.
'Well, my time's up. I leave my band and my friends in your hands. Take care of them for me.'
Silas had always wanted an autograph from Zidattus. To get a responsibility from him was an even greater gift.
'Thank you for trusting me. I will do my best. I will be the best!'
'I have a feeling you will.'
His image vanishes, but not before some final words:
'The guitar's name is Boddah, by the way.'
He's gone. Silas sits alone on the back of a cosmic beast, one from the age of the Supernal War, two instruments resting on his lap.
He slowly runs his fingers reverently over the bones of the guitar, then looks at his violin.
'So, what's your name? Since we're conversing you might as well tell me.'
'Okie-dokie. It's Akrammachamari Boulomentoreb Geniomouthig Demogened Enkuklie Zenobiothiz Eskothore Thothouthoth Iaeouoi Korkoounook Louloenel Morothoepnam Nerxiarxin Xonophoenax Orneophao Purobarup Reroutoer Sesenmenoures Tauropolit Upephenouru Phimemameph Chenneopheoch Psuchompoiaps Orion.'
'Um...how about I just call you Aki?'
'Aki's nice. Now, how about you give the Bone Guitar a strum?'
'You sure?'
'Of course. Just one twang, though. From its aura I can sense its power is too great and body too weak to be played continuously.'
Silas rests Aki at his feet, picking up Boddah and gently putting the strap, made of hair like the strings, over his head.
He turns to face Meg, who's busy fighting Femsdire. Slicing at his rotund form, entrails swirl out from the wounds and Meg dances in the blood rain. She has a manic grin on her face, laughing like a horde of hyenas.
He plucks a string. A giant force emanates from the instrument. Sensing its power, he yells:
'Meg, duck!!!'
She hits the ground as the soundwave gushes over her, slicing Wevedswine in two like a cheese wheel. One half of his body falls off the side and into the abyss below and the other falls flat on the stairway, soaking it with a larger pool of blood. His Cursed Instrument, which took the form of some castanets, lies near his corpse.
Meg stomps on the clackers, breaking them into itty bitty pieces. She looks up at Silas, standing on Rynedaledostossyne like some god riding a mythical mount, and yells at him from a distance:
'You look like a fucking hero!!!'
Band work is stressful. Some days he feels as if he should have a punch-in time clock before he walks out on stage. Add on the guilt one could feel from having a friend die for their dream and the perfect job can feel like a nightmare.
Still, he loves it. And his Lights support him.
Jakub helps him with lyrics while John gives him tips on how to hold his instrument to avoid spraining.
Ermis takes him out for tteokbokki on Fridays. Raam, who was quite cold to him the first few weeks, now treats him like an ambivalent work acquaintance.
'So why didn't you talk to me when we first met...'
'Don't make me try and kill you again, Crowe.'
Despite his hard exterior, he's helped him understand his instruments better. The Bone Guitar occupies a ceremonial role, acting as a torch to be passed on rather than a tool to be used. His main weapon on stage is Aki, its rhythm like a booming gun.
Haime, Kazuki and Vittorio have a personal group chat with him separate from their band's GC. They spend half the day preparing for concerts and the other half sending memes he can't understand.
'『And God said to Adam, 'Zarathustra, build an ark,' cause in the bedroom of a Scotsman is eternal life.』 What the hell is that supposed to mean?'
'You need to be on KitKot more, Silas. You're missing way too many references.'
When it's showtime they head out with their roster memorized. Some songs are written by Silas and others are lyrics Will never finished. In a way, his legacy is Will's legacy, building on the memories of the past like a sandcastle: swept away with the waves of the world, but leaving larger traces of its existence behind with each addition to it.
Tonight is Boys' Night. The band plans to all go out for drinks after the show: it's become their little tradition, doing the things they couldn't do with Will.
As he's about to head out, he's met by a familiar face backstage.
'Megami Hiratsuka Satou.'
'That's Megami Hiratsuka Kwanshi to you, Silas Spencer Jonathan Crowe.'
'Ah yes. I forgot you and Ashley exchanged surnames along with rings.'
He can hear the crowd outside. Tonight a special guest appearance has been made by the Pi-Idu-Tokoro Dragon Kings. Infamous for their outspoken activism against animal cruelty, the blitzfussball team has recently decided to be called the 'Famdulo Chickens' after an incident they participated in.
Unbeknownst to Silas, his journey would have ended quite differently without their help.
Maze Animikii Burnhead housed a higher being in his eye. While the rumour was that it had been his late mother, the reality was that it was an avatar of Vorgrakar, one of the strongest generals of the Two Great Evils, who was attempting to grow in power by consuming the Tengokutori that were set to be put down.
It had planned to abide within Maze until the birds were taken to the execution site, then possess him for its purposes and reassume a form in the physical world by ingesting high quantities of the closely guarded Asuree. Had this happened, the Cursed Instruments would have each turned into their inhabiting spirits, the droplets of the awakened demon-god's soul rising as his soldiers. Silas managed to win against the Devil's Dojo and its four leaders, but against the legion of unleashed spirits and their lord he would have stood no chance.
A butterfly flaps its wings and a storm is brewed. Sometimes we affect the world more than we realize.
The Psychic Chickens were given to a shelter after Maze's death, and are currently awaiting adoption as pets. And Silas is ready for his twentieth concert.
'I'll catch you later, Meg. Wanna grab drinks with me and the boys?'
'Sure. Why the hell not.'
She hugs him, her bubblegum blue hair covering his shoulders like an angel's arms.
'Seeya later.'
'Cya.'
He heads out with his band, ready to have another great night. Will it last forever? Probably not. But between a future he'll never see or now, he knows what he chooses.
Looking out at the crowd, he sees Meg in his mind's eye. After so long he has the perfect opening track.
After so long, he's finally written a song about her.
Mariana
Being defamed, we entreat: We are made as the filth of the world...
Megami Satou by Kitsune Sobo
Wrettic Alphabet by Kitsune Sobo
'I kept a nightingale in a cage,
With fresh warm newspaper on its stage,
But he grew tired and wanted grapes,
So I fed him till his belly ached,
And when my bird got drunk and escaped,
I bought a bell to lure him back.'
'I think it might be from an old song?'
Silas scratches his head. Meg's eyes light up with recollection.
'Oh! It's a poem by Lord Yadayada Blahblahblah! A rich bastard who'd lock his guests in his dining room at Blahblahblah Manor and make them listen to his shitty poetry about how much homeless people sucked. I remember reading his stuff when I was still in school.'
'What does it mean?'
'The central idea is freedom in contrast to servitude. The nightingale gets drunk, which can also be translated as 'naughty' in the original Zambrovian, and escapes.'
'Hmm…what if that particular word, naughty, has a meaning outside the poem?'
'How do you mean?'
'You said it yourself. The nightingale got drunk. Perhaps Lord Blahblahblah's poem is being used to refer to Zidattus? Nachtigall was one of his nicknames.'
'Seems like a bit of a stretch.'
'It's all we've got. Might as well give it a go.'
'If the nightingale is symbolic of Zidattus, and it got drunk and flew away, perhaps this is referring to a location? Maybe one of the bars he frequented?'
Silas smiles. Old trivia knowledge from his geek days is coming back.
'Meg, Zidattus only visited one bar. And it wasn't to drink.'
Niwa ni wa Niwa Niwatori ga ita
These almighty waves
Clown Demon (Kutakake) by Kitsune Sobo
Certified Hood Classic
Yea'haa'weh Person by Kitsune Sobo
Ey insan, ey hayvan!
'The first of Pride is Lucifer that reigneth in his malice,
Then is Beelzebub that lordeth over the Envious,
The third is Satanas, and his odorous lordship is Wrath,
All the Slothful are the retinue of Abaddon the fourth,
The fifth is maimed Mammon and hath with him all the Avarous,
The sixth is called Baal-Peor and is the blind god of Gluttons,
The seventh is Asmodaios that leadeth the Lecherous,
But among these devils, Mankind is the demon mightiest.'
'Bingo. But I need to see if your intentions are pure.'
With that, he pulls out a coiled cord about an inch in diameter and three feet in length, a rubber suction cup at each end of the wire. It's a Seelekabel, or Cortical Neuropath.
Layers of polyethene, stranded steel wires, aluminium, polycarbonate, copper, petroleum jelly and optical fibres covered with a protective rubber sheath. C-Wires were originally used in surgeries and interrogations, but gradually fell out of use and became toys of leisure. The Neuropath is meant to be connected to two people, a Giver and Receiver: when joined the Receiver can see into the Giver's mind.
Silas takes the Giving end of the wire and sticks it to his right temple: it latches on with a wet sucking noise. The man does the same with his end of the wire, attaching it to his left temple. After a few seconds of rummaging through Silas' mind, ignoring some questionable content regarding a doujin he read that morning, he concludes he has sincere intentions. He believes himself to be the chosen opponent.
The man does the same procedure with Meg.
'You can approach Wipaczyk. But the girl must stay.'
He has Silas sign an NDA.
'For damages, y'know. Broken bones, death, anything in between.'
He writes his name down in the Republic Alphabet and is led away.
Republic Alphabet by Kitsune Sobo
Understandable, Have a Nice Day
At some point in life, he decided to find meaning and purpose out there in the big wide world.
He tried to leave his community, but the elders forbade him.
There are two types of cultures, you see. What we esteem, what we value, especially in leaders, is that they speak and act honourably. If attacked they will defend their name, country or people. This is what we look for in an Honour Culture. In a Dignity Culture, you don't have to earn respect. 'People should respect me because I'm a human being. You should treat me properly because I am what I am.' In a Dignity Culture you may decide that it is dignified to not argue publicly but to take your opponents with you into a small private room and hash out the issue there. There are pros and cons to both, and most strong civilizations are a mix of the two.
Wilhelm Zidattus was from an honour culture. He was forbidden to go because it would shame his family line. But something compelled him to throw caution to the wind and hunt down his dream like a starved yeager armed with only a sharp bone, chasing a determined deer up a mountain.
He started a Deutsch experimental rock band called Adiseschen Wasughi. AW had eight members: their songs were lyrical masterpieces crafted by the smooth-talking honey-coated lips of Zidattus, who could make his voice as fine as wine or rough as a studded whip.
Will was a prolific writer. Wasughi ended up releasing 200 songs. Fan favourites such as Kafka's Shore, Weltschlange and Sangsaara: Bestaendiges Wandern were well-known across Zoster. But he never felt satisfied. All the sex, fame, drugs, fast netzvoegel and extravagant mansions gave him fleeting happiness. Not even the tranquillity of Dudeism helped.
His main weapon on stage was Broadcaster, a violin with the sound of a 1950s Fender Telecaster. Made of dense black wood painted with the colours of the rainbow, this mystical instrument was his signature, a gift from the Ten Lords of Music, separating AW from other rock groups. It was uncommon but he made it work.
AW eventually came to be known as the Rock Band at the Centre of the Universe. Fans were known as Disciples, band members were called Musicanten or Lights.
Throughout his life, Will battled with demons. Finally, one day, he decided to end it all with a bang.
At an infamous concert now known as the Red Parade, he played for five days straight at a constant speed of 100 attoseconds, simultaneously singing at 2726 times the speed of light.
It was his greatest feat, and also his last.
The rapidity at which he performed took a toll on his cyborg body. At the end of his performance he collapsed on stage and, though his friends tried to bring him back, it was too late. Blood streaming from every orifice, he faced the heavens and whispered: 'Carry on our dream.'
As the life left his eyes, they knew it was over. The band fell apart after his passing. The members left behind had his body degloved of skin and flesh and took his skeleton. With the remains they made a final morbid tribute to their friend: a guitar forged of bones, with Will's blonde hair forming the instrument's strings.
With this new instrument, the Bone Guitar, they hoped to keep his memory alive by establishing a challenge: a worthy opponent who could defeat each of them, ascending higher and higher up the ladder, would assume leadership over AW. This was how power was to be passed on.
The Bone Guitar was left on the back of a cosmic dragon, its location revealed only when all the Lights were bested. The Musicanten hid themselves, waiting for a worthy opponent to come contest them.
Waiting for a worthy challenger to approach.
And one has.
Thug Shaker
Amulet of the Monad by Kitsune Sobo
Carolina In My Mind
Denarius cum Sigillo Michaelis (Cimeries) by Kitsune Sobo
Kando otta an chikoro Michi
Ten statues sit on a wall-mounted bench, images of the Lords of Music: Brugalb, Hixih, Khubbolb, Vhaojherh, Briogri, Aiuekhothlerc, Evraazas, Yicnedho, Iauzhervu and Itylkusz. Old gods like Zuus and Jiizas Krais have long fallen out of worship.
Marcellus Dominix, a devout Briogrian, does not appreciate the scorn with which this stranger eyes his images. She turns to him and asks in some rude Zambrovian:
'Who defeated Wipaczyk?'
'Your name, onna?'
'Boadicea.' She gets the pseudonym from a recent Abenteuerroman she read.
'Well, Boudica, you can walk your bomboklaat ass outta here. I'm guessing you're with some shady folks if you know about that.'
'Wrong answer.'
Cambel Hand unbuttons her jacket, revealing a black t-shirt with a familiar logo.
Ya'tee ash-Shudhoodh by Kitsune Sobo
Noremaczkovnan (Zambrovian Syllabary) by Kitsune Sobo
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori
Seal of Justice by Kitsune Sobo
Maze Animikii Burnhead by Kitsune Sobo
Shinobijutsu
'One popkin, please.'
A sandwich of tomatoes, rutabagas, pickles, plum jelly, applesauce and corn relish, costing two cimeries.
Meg is busy texting her new 'friend', who's sending her bikini pics.
'You can humana-humana with Ashley after this is over. Till then we've got work to do.'
'Silence, virgin. At least I've got a life outside of music.'
Silas has his case tucked in his satchel, his violin slung over his shoulders. He feels a bit more prepared this time, questioning Esperansa Anheles at the counter who, going by her badge, seems to be the manager.
'Bwenas tardes, senyor! Ke tal?'
'Todo byen, i tu?'
On the wall he sees a quote in the language they are currently speaking, a descendant of an Earth tongue: En este weko mundo solo tenemos la investigasyon i la peskisa komo nwestras yaves. Being from an affluent background he's had time to master a few Earth-born languages, plus a dozen Zosterian ones.
He explains why he's here, repeating the password he got from the Amulet:
'Perros ladran porke tyenen osikos.'
He's promptly led to the next door after the usual process. Until his return, Meg orders some food for herself:
'I'd like some barbecue shrimp, boiled shrimp, broiled shrimp, baked shrimp, sautéed shrimp, shrimp kebabs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo, pan-fried shrimp, deep-fried shrimp, stir-fried shrimp, pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, a shrimp burger and a shrimp sandwich.'
'The Veintyun Kamarones Katedral costs ten cimeries.'
'Dealio.'
Silas is in a realm similar to that of Wipaczyk's. While the celestial bodies of Wipaczyk's world were a deep cherry red, the stars and planets here are a coppery orange.
Sickie stands at a hundred and five feet. His weapon, Yehudah Ish-Kerayot, is a Leukophoros Model 736, a solid-bodied black bass guitar with five strings. It can reach 196,883 decibels, the same as that of Broadcaster, so the fight will be more level.
'Let's get it over with.'
The fight is over in a few minutes. Silas has yet again managed to avoid death and score a narrow victory.
He and Sickie land on a nearby planet. As a sign of respect, he hands him a red piece of triangular plastic with a black manji on it.
'The secret to my playing. It's not about my fingers, but my pick. I've named it Plektron.'
He shakes Silas' hand, unlike Wipaczyk who had been too ashamed to do so. Silas takes the gift gratefully.
'Cheers, man.'
Silas turns around to leave, seeing the door that has appeared behind him.
Sickie offers some final words:
'Maybe you'll be happier with some less lofty goals?'
Not answering, Silas exits the realm.
He meets Meg outside, who's busy battling a mountain of shellfish with a large barbecue fork.
'Quick work?'
'I've been training. The rest will be a piece of cake.'
Their conversation is interrupted by a blade through Silas' chest.
A short sword of Zambrovian making is driven through his back and out through his ribcage. It's dragged down, slicing through Silas' torso like frozen butter.
Before Gwendolen Hyle can finish the job Meg tackles her, knocking her to the ground as she's about to split him down the middle.
'Kisama!!!'
Her Cursed Instrument Surprise, which takes the form of a pan flute, allows her to be invisible for a few minutes at a time, even bending light so she casts no shadow. She managed to sneak up behind the target but missed his heart.
'Iggy!'
Ignoge Coban and Cordella Gwantoke get up from their seats at the corner of the deli, throwing off their robes and pulling out their Instruments, Euphoria and Terror: these take the form of a clarinet and French horn.
Meg punches Gwen in the mouth, knocking out two teeth. She jams her thumbs into her eyeballs and presses till they burst, spraying blood all over the once-pristine floors.
The customers flee as the other Cursed Instrument users come out, weapons readied.
Silas is lying in a pool of his entrails. He's seeing smells and hearing colours, mouth and nostrils ceaselessly spewing blood. His organs are scattered everywhere, and he can see Meg fighting a few feet away.
'Mmm...mmm...mmm...mmm...Meg...'
He chokes on liquid warmth. The door swings open with a windy whine. Someone enters and accidentally steps on his kidney.
'Oops. Seems I was a little late.'
Chiramantep Yamamoto by Kitsune Sobo
Svertoh (The Super Swag Chainsaw) by Kitsune Sobo
'Pou mwen ou ale nan vil la douloure,
pou mwen ou antre nan etènèl doulè,
pou mwen ou ale nan mitan nanm pèdi.
Jistis te deplase kreyatè mwen an:
li ban mwen pouvwa mayifik diven an,
sajès siprèm nan ak premye renmen an.
Pa gen anyen ki te kreye anvan mwen
si se pa etènèl, e mwen toupuisan.
Kite tout espwa, nou menm ki antre nan!'
Dark voices call out to her. The ground erupts and bony hands grip her legs. Hell opens its Phlegethonian womb. The eighteen Kings of the Underworld, Maru, Amukku, Vedhi, Kana, Bihiri, Golu, Kora, Murthu, Gulma, Jala, Gini, Pissu, Vaatha, Bootha, Pith, Abootha, Dhehva and Kohla, summon her down.
Before she can attack she is swallowed by the earth. Chira heads over to an injured Meg.
'That was a spell from the Liv Wouj la pa Bawon Samdi. We've about three minutes before she returns from the underworld.'
He picks her up, noticing the gaping hole in her stomach.
'Silas...'
'Don't worry, Megami-chan. I'm not letting him die.'
He picks Silas up as well. His pistols, Reina, Yukina and Ruri, fly over to him and stick to the magnetic metal pads on his belt.
'Pojexali. I'll explain on the way.'
Every day I start the morning with fresh hatred
Michael of Nebadon
Seal of the Cursed Instruments by Kitsune Sobo
Ego su eimi
The Gauls
Silas is healed in six hours. He's currently reading a book a friend recommended to him.
'What's that?'
'A complete riddle. Filled with contradictions, codes, puzzles, imagery taken from various mythologies, unnecessary complexities and esoteric ideas. It's a story about some teenage boy who has to fight members of a legendary cosmic band to become the greatest musician. His accomplice is a blade-wielding girl, a bloodthirsty and confident albatraoz with an angel's face and devil's grin. This odd mix of Apollinischen and Dionysischen Kunsttriebe has a deeper message being conveyed under its symbolism.'
The Amulet has given him the next clue: Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres.
'Gaul is all divided into three parts.'
A quick search on the online Nervbibliothek reveals it's from an old text supposedly penned by Caesar.
'How does this point to...'
His mind connects the dots. Zidattus followed Dudeism, a religion centred on going with the flow and applying an Epicurean and Daoist lens to life. The largest Dudeist group was the IDL, Ischtikawanen des Lebowski, of whom Will was a member.
'...and their primary commune was in the Walhaland Colony, also called Gaul.'
'Huh?'
'I know where the next Light is. Let's go.'
Ermis Vezapoulos
Bilcresst Whitmoone by Kitsune Sobo
Megami Satou by Kitsune Sobo
Drums of Liberation
Let Me Solo Her
Starrzetteen Murreenleam by Kitsune Sobo
Pestis eram vivus, moriens tua mors ero
Watashi, kirei?
The fight goes considerably smoothly. Starrzetteen uses her psionic limbs to slice at and pummel Silas, who parries with his violin. They manage to keep their distance from each other, opting for long-range attacks. She remembers how Bilcresst was defeated and he remembers that time he got turned into a shish kebab.
They fight for two days. It's the longest Silas has stayed up, and by the end of it he's barely standing. Starrzetteen is bleeding from the nostrils, her powers pushed to their limit.
By a slim margin, his Instrument managed to overcome hers.
'You fight well. How do you practice?'
'I've got a friend who carries a chainsaw around. I'm sparring most of my free time just to survive.'
Two days in the past, the team has managed to set the chickens free. Maze is unable to multitask but isn't prepared to use his eye, giving time for their friend to pull up.
She drives to their location in her grey sushi truck, made to carry crates of iced fish and large enough to harbour some fugitive chickens today.
Maze is about to behead Yerlik when four thousand pounds smashes into him, barely missing Han.
'Just in time, Yauchty.'
'You've gotten taller, Yer. Seems the supplements I gave have worked.'
He stands and dusts himself off. While Maze is knocked out the boys round up the chickens and gently put them in the truck: the inside has been carpeted with dry hay and cushions for the comfort of its avian passengers.
'Thanks for the help, Yaucht.'
'Just remember your promise, Mihajlovich.'
Igor has sworn to protect her zylokarn while she's on a trip, in exchange for her assistance with the chicken rescue.
The Yea'haa'weh life cycle is split into stages of radical mitosis: it starts when an adult female lays a cluster of Eggs, round microscopic pods with leathery shells. These Eggs hatch into groups of Spires, so called because they resemble thick twisty icicles. These are encased in gelatinous sacs which open up when the Spires are ready to shoot out and transform.
Spires split into Primary Hordes, resembling large furry worms in the beginning, but later giant squids characterized by whiplike tentacles emerging from various parts of their bodies. The Primary Hordes split into Conglomerations, resembling larger Spires: these grow to the point of becoming giant spheres of flesh, and once they get to a certain size they split open, separating into Slugs. The Slugs are smaller red worm-like creatures that move by slithering. Eventually, the Slugs grow stubby legs and small tails and split into myriads of Babies. These Babies grow and finally divide into Juveniles, developing their forehead gems, fur and antlers, and the Juveniles grow into mature adults without cell separation, completing the cycle.
To handle the absurd amount of offspring produced in this process, young Yea'haa'weh are housed inside their mother's gemstone until they are Juveniles, after which they are released onto their unnamed home planet near Zoster to fend for themselves: one one-hundredth of the Juveniles will survive. This detachable forehead stone, called a zylokarn, contains a pocket dimension known as a Xyr'alith or 'Abyss.'
Female Yea'haa'weh lay clusters of 5,210,644,015,679,228,794,060,694,325,390,955,853,397,149,309,
953,825,381,775,591,280,356,090,833,797,121 Eggs.
Each Egg produces 6,864,797,660,130,609,714,981,900,799,081,393,217,269,435,300,
143,305,409,394,463,459,185,543,183,397,656,052,122,559,640,661,
454,554,977,296,311,391,480,858,037,121,987,999,716,643,812,574,
028,291,115,057,151 Spires.
Each Spire splits into 531,137,992,816,767,098,689,588,206,552,468,627,329,593,117,727,
031,923,199,444,138,200,403,559,860,852,242,739,162,502,265,229,
285,668,889,329,486,246,501,015,346,579,337,652,707,239,409,519,
978,766,587,351,943,831,270,835,393,219,031,728,127 Primary Hordes.
Each Primary Horde splits into 10,407,932,194,664,399,081,925,240,327,364,085,538,615,262,247,
266,704,805,319,112,350,403,608,059,673,360,298,012,239,441,732,
324,184,842,421,613,954,281,007,791,383,566,248,323,464,908,139,
906,605,677,320,762,924,129,509,389,220,345,773,183,349,661,583,
550,472,959,420,547,689,811,211,693,677,147,548,478,866,962,501,
384,438,260,291,732,348,885,311,160,828,538,416,585,028,255,604,
666,224,831,890,918,801,847,068,222,203,140,521,026,698,435,488,
732,958,028,878,050,869,736,186,900,714,720,710,555,703,168,729,087 Conglomerations.
Each Conglomeration splits into 1,475,979,915,214,180,235,084,898,622,737,381,736,312,066,145,333,
169,775,147,771,216,478,570,297,878,078,949,377,407,337,049,389,
289,382,748,507,531,496,480,477,281,264,838,760,259,191,814,463,
365,330,269,540,496,961,201,113,430,156,902,396,093,989,090,226,
259,326,935,025,281,409,614,983,499,388,222,831,448,598,601,834,
318,536,230,923,772,641,390,209,490,231,836,446,899,608,210,795,
482,963,763,094,236,630,945,410,832,793,769,905,399,982,457,186,
322,944,729,636,418,890,623,372,171,723,742,105,636,440,368,218,
459,649,632,948,538,696,905,872,650,486,914,434,637,457,507,280,
441,823,676,813,517,852,099,348,660,847,172,579,408,422,316,678,
097,670,224,011,990,280,170,474,894,487,426,924,742,108,823,536,
808,485,072,502,240,519,452,587,542,875,349,976,558,572,670,229,
633,962,575,212,637,477,897,785,501,552,646,522,609,988,869,914,
013,540,483,809,865,681,250,419,497,686,697,771,007 Slugs.
Each Slug splits into 446,087,557,183,758,429,571,151,706,402,101,809,886,208,632,412,
859,901,111,991,219,963,404,685,792,820,473,369,112,545,269,003,
989,026,153,245,931,124,316,702,395,758,705,693,679,364,790,903,
497,461,147,071,065,254,193,353,938,124,978,226,307,947,312,410,
798,874,869,040,070,279,328,428,810,311,754,844,108,094,878,252,
494,866,760,969,586,998,128,982,645,877,596,028,979,171,536,962,
503,068,429,617,331,702,184,750,324,583,009,171,832,104,916,050,
157,628,886,606,372,145,501,702,225,925,125,224,076,829,605,427,
173,573,964,812,995,250,569,412,480,720,738,476,855,293,681,666,
712,844,831,190,877,620,606,786,663,862,190,240,118,570,736,831,
901,886,479,225,810,414,714,078,935,386,562,497,968,178,729,127,
629,594,924,411,960,961,386,713,946,279,899,275,006,954,917,139,
758,796,061,223,803,393,537,381,034,666,494,402,951,052,059,047,
968,693,255,388,647,930,440,925,104,186,817,009,640,171,764,133,
172,418,132,836,351 Babies.
Each Baby splits into 259,117,086,013,202,627,776,246,767,922,441,530,941,818,887,553,
125,427,303,974,923,161,874,019,266,586,362,086,201,209,516,800,
483,406,550,695,241,733,194,177,441,689,509,238,807,017,410,377,
709,597,512,042,313,066,624,082,916,353,517,952,311,186,154,862,
265,604,547,691,127,595,848,775,610,568,757,931,191,017,711,408,
826,252,153,849,035,830,401,185,072,116,424,747,461,823,031,471,
398,340,229,288,074,545,677,907,941,037,288,235,820,705,892,351,
068,433,882,986,888,616,658,650,280,927,692,080,339,605,869,308,
790,500,409,503,709,875,902,119,018,371,991,620,994,002,568,935,
113,136,548,829,739,112,656,797,303,241,986,517,250,116,412,703,
509,705,427,773,477,972,349,821,676,443,446,668,383,119,322,540,
099,648,994,051,790,241,624,056,519,054,483,690,809,616,061,625,
743,042,361,721,863,339,415,852,426,431,208,737,266,591,962,061,
753,535,748,892,894,599,629,195,183,082,621,860,853,400,937,932,
839,420,261,866,586,142,503,251,450,773,096,274,235,376,822,938,
649,407,127,700,846,077,124,211,823,080,804,139,298,087,057,504,
713,825,264,571,448,379,371,125,032,081,826,126,566,649,084,251,
699,453,951,887,789,613,650,248,405,739,378,594,599,444,335,231,
188,280,123,660,406,262,468,609,212,150,349,937,584,782,292,237,
144,339,628,858,485,938,215,738,821,232,393,687,046,160,677,362,
909,315,071 Juveniles.
'Let's move. I don't expect eyepatch kid will stay down for long.'
In the future a few miles away, Zouvereine feels the presence of his comrade fading. It seems she has failed.
'I guess I'll have to kill the boy. Never trust a woman to do a man's job.'
Zouvereine Zinchourch by Kitsune Sobo
Pu-Ji-Cyun-Ling: Universal Saviour of All Living Beings
It's been weeks since the battle with the 'psychic chick', as Silas calls her. They let her escape out of pity: unbeknownst to them she died of exhaustion a few miles from the stadium.
Things, generally speaking, have felt too easy. Silas sits on the couch, a feeling of paranoia hanging over him like a damp towel.
Speaking of towels, Meg tosses his at him.
'You need to wash your towel. It smells like ass, literally and figuratively.'
'And you need to shave your pits.'
'I'm not keen on doing danger yoga in the shower with blades just to feel like a dolphin for a day and a half. Body hair's only unhygienic if you don't wash it.'
Chira's new leg has come in. It will take him a while to get used to it, but he's managing with small movements around the apartment.
'I'll soon be able to accompany you again, though you already seem capable on your own.'
Haime Krakusantos is next. Silas is hoping their fight is more exciting. The medallion has been silent for a while.
Until it responds, he must deal with the nightmares.
They began a few days after he defeated Starrzetteen. He's seen himself being tortured and killed over and over. One time a carnivorous centipede was jammed into his ear and it ate his brain. The other time he was force-fed his testicles after they were chopped off with a pair of scissors.
Sometimes he's doing evil things to other people. Last night he even assaulted Meg. The dreams are so vivid and detailed that he can't forget them even when he wakes up, and carries the guilt and shame for the rest of the day.
According to Chira, this is the work of the Cursed Instrument Occultness, taking the form of a sitaar.
'Zouvereine Zinchourch. The Second Cyrius of the Templum.'
'I wanna hunt him down and kill him. This will drive me insane if it goes on any longer.'
'He's trying to break your spirit, discourage you from achieving your mission. You need to push on despite that.'
'But it's so hard, man. Why the hell does life have to be so unfair?'
They're sitting on the roof of the apartment complex, the moon above them. Silas is too scared to sleep.
'I dunno. It seems life has it out for some people. Including mine.'
'Meg told me that you said you hated Nihonjin.'
'I don't. Or at least I don't like them. I'd say my reasons are justified.'
'I won't ask you...'
'But I might as well tell you.'
He recalls the stories of his ancestors, their history trampled under by the boots of the wealthy and vile.
'We had our own homeland, Aynu Moshir, which stretched across Hokkaido, Sakhalin and the Kuril Islands on Earth. In the seventeenth to early eighteenth century, the government decided that we were simply too different, too 'other', to be left alone, and began a policy of forced assimilation. Our territories were annexed and we were treated as dirty and primitive barbarians.
We were denied the right to speak our language, gather or hunt on our traditional lands. We were also, to add frosting to the shit cake, subjected to genocide and were forced to intermarry to become one with the predominant ethnic group of the country.
When humans started leaving Earth some of my ancestors left too, going where the Nihonjin were establishing their colony as no other nations wanted us. Some of our language was preserved and passed down, but today most of it is gone. Because we don't pass the five million threshold we aren't allowed to have our own territory, and so we're slowly disappearing once again.
My hatred drove me into the military. It gave me an excuse to kill and vent my frustrations. During this time I met an Ayisyen man skilled in the forbidden art of magic.
We became close friends. We even have matching neck tattoos. But all good things have to end. Bad things too. Five million years from now there will be no one who remembers or cares about you. No one who could say they know you, love you or want your legacy maintained. Entropy is the natural state of existence, and when we die we'll return to what we were before we were born. There is no divine meaning, no predestined plan, no true deities beyond those which reside in the human breast.
So amid all this meaninglessness, all this pitiless indifference, what can we do? How do we even live? My answer, after years of pain and trauma, is that I'm not a victim of fate. You're not a victim of fate. This meaningless, substanceless void we call existence can be filled with beauty, even if for a short time. Because you can choose to live for a future you'll never see, or enjoy the now. For myself I choose the latter.'
After that, the nightmares felt less scary. A few days later the Amulet gave the next clue.
Haime stands at sixty feet and plays the keyboard, his Yorona de Asul Seleste.
'It is an honour to meet you, Mr. Krakusantos.'
'The honour's mine, lad. Soi la persona mas rara ke konoses, pero nunka me olvidaras.'
The fight is a welcome change to the sweaty stressful nights he's had to deal with. And unlike the sombre Ajita, he feels Haime's not trying to kill him.
By the end of it, he's won, as it seems nonexistent fate intended.
'Have this as a little gift. La grasya del Senyor Hesukristo, i el amor de Dios, i la partisipasyon del Espiritu Santo sea kontigo.'
It's a button from his keyboard.
'Fell off a while back and I never had it fixed. It's felt like a good luck charm to me.'
Silas takes it and puts it in his pocket.
'Muchas grasyas.'
'De nada, chamako.'
He leaves, a burden taken off his shoulders.
Speaking of shoulders, the boys have been putting new burdens on Yauchty's by taking care of the chickens at her sushi place, housing them in a small shed she had built in her back garden.
'It's been weeks, Igor. What're you planning to do with the birds?'
'Let's keep them here for now.'
'Didn'tcha say you were gonna give 'em to an animal shelter?'
'We need to keep them close until we can ensure eyepatch dude or his cronies won't come for them.'
「少なくとも人は自らの意志さえ自由にはできる」
Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst, blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein
Ruax, Barsaphael, Artosael,
Horopel and Kairoxanondalon,
Sphendonael, Sphandor and kind Belbel,
Kourtael and Metathiax sun-born,
Katanikotael, Saphthorael,
Phobothel, Leroel and Soubelti,
Katrax, Ieropa and strong Modebel,
Mardero, Nathotho, Alath mighty,
Audameoth, Manthado, Aktonme,
Anatreth, Enautha and Axesbuth,
Hapax, Anoster, Phusikoreth grey,
Aleureth, Ichthuon, Achoneoth,
Autoth, Phtheneoth and Mianeth.
Silas has honed his fighting skills over the past few weeks. He understands that his instrument is not a toy and that with great power there must also come great responsibility.
With that in mind, he charges what he's come to call his 'winning shot.'
'Abbrru abbrur abburr abrbru abrbur abrrbu abrrub abrubr abrurb abubrr aburbr aburrb arbbru arbbur arbrbu arbrub arbubr arburb arrbbu arrbub arrubb arubbr arubrb arurbb aubbrr aubrbr aubrrb aurbbr aurbrb aurrbb babrru babrur baburr barbru barbur barrbu barrub barubr barurb baubrr baurbr baurrb bbarru bbarur bbaurr bbraru bbraur bbrrau bbrrua bbruar bbrura bbuarr bburar bburra brabru brabur brarbu brarub braubr braurb brbaru brbaur brbrau brbrua brbuar brbura brrabu brraub brrbau brrbua brruab brruba bruabr bruarb brubar brubra brurab brurba buabrr buarbr buarrb bubarr bubrar bubrra burabr burarb burbar burbra burrab burrba rabbru rabbur rabrbu rabrub rabubr raburb rarbbu rarbub rarubb raubbr raubrb raurbb rbabru rbabur rbarbu rbarub rbaubr rbaurb rbbaru rbbaur rbbrau rbbrua rbbuar rbbura rbrabu rbraub rbrbau rbrbua rbruab rbruba rbuabr rbuarb rbubar rbubra rburab rburba rrabbu rrabub rraubb rrbabu rrbaub rrbbau rrbbua rrbuab rrbuba rruabb rrubab rrubba ruabbr ruabrb ruarbb rubabr rubarb rubbar rubbra rubrab rubrba rurabb rurbab rurbba uabbrr uabrbr uabrrb uarbbr uarbrb uarrbb ubabrr ubarbr ubarrb ubbarr ubbrar ubbrra ubrabr ubrarb ubrbar ubrbra ubrrab ubrrba urabbr urabrb urarbb urbabr urbarb urbbar urbbra urbrab urbrba urrabb urrbab urrbba...'
He fires one last time. The shot hits Cassiapo and cracks his sax. This fight lasted five minutes.
Silas hears heavenly voices singing, the sound echoing through the realm:
'In profunda et clara subsistentia
Alti luminis apparuerunt mihi tres gyri
Trium colorum et unius continentiae:
Et unus ab alio, sicut iris ab iride,
Apparebat reflexus, et tertius apparebat ignis
Qui hinc et inde aequaliter spiretur.
O quantum breve est dicere, et quomodo est raucum
Meo conceptui! et hoc, ad aliud quod vidi,
Est tantum, quod non sufficit ad dicendum parum.
O lux aeterna, quae sola in te sedes,
Sola te intelligis, et a te intellecta
Et intelligens te mihi arrides!
Illa circulatio, quae est sic concepta
Apparebat in te, sicut lumen reflexum,
Ab oculis meis aliquantulum circumspecta;
Intra se a suo colore eodem
Mihi apparebat picta de nostra imagine:
Ex quo meus visus in eam totus erat fixus.
Qualis geometra qui totum se fixerat
Pro mensurando circulo, et non invenit,
Cogitando, illud principium unde indiget;
Talis eram ego ad illam vistam novam:
Videre volebam, quomodo convenit
Imago ad circulum, et quomodo est ibi locus;
Sed non erant ad hoc propriae pennae:
Nisi mea mens fuit percussa
Ab uno fulgore, in quem sua voluntas venit.
Alte phantasiae hic defecit posse;
Sed iam involvebat meum divinum velle,
Sicut rota quae aequaliter movetur,
Amor qui movet solem et alias stellas.'
'Congrats, Silas! You have earned the key.'
'Key?'
He feels the Amulet in his pocket heating up. Taking it out, he sees it has produced a key-shaped protrusion.
'The choice is yours. You can follow the final part of the trail to its end or turn back. Having gained all this experience, and some gifts from some of us, you wouldn't be losing anything.'
'The dream to be the leader of AW has brought me this far. I can't go back now, even if I wanted to.'
Meanwhile, Igor spots a motorrad outside Yauchty's sushi restaurant.
'He's here.'
'Biding his time, prolly. Once we go outside, it's make or break.'
'Yea. Let fortune favour the worthy.'
ඕං භූර් භුවඃ ස්වඃ, තත් සවිතුර් වරේණියම්,
භර්ගෝ දේවස්ය ධීමහි, ධියෝ යෝ නඃ ප්රචෝදයාත්
Days pass. Then months. Soon an entire season has come and gone. But no response from the Amulet.
Silas holds it in his palms like a precious gem, praying to whoever hears him that it responds. He didn't come all this way to simply meet a dead end.
'I need to complete this. I started this out intending to finish it, no matter what blocks I faced or how unmotivated I became. This is my legacy, what I plan on leaving behind. So please don't fail me now.'
No response.
One evening Silas is vacuuming their flat when he notices the kashiori on the shelf. Taking it down, he sees that Chira has eaten most of it but left two.
He takes a marshmallow out and bites into it, feeling a strange goo mixed with fine sandy particles like sugar fill his mouth. It tastes like tomato soup, roast beef and blueberry pie, the combination surprisingly not half bad.
And then it hits him.
He is taken to a place where you can taste colours and smell sounds, but everything is shrouded in darkness.
'Greetings, Silas.'
'Huh? Who are you? Where are you?'
'Behind you.'
He turns around and is faced with an alien entity, something beyond his best description.
Tree of the Klifot by Kitsune Sobo
'Aarya-Avalokiteshvaro Bodhisattvo,
Gambheeraam prajnaapaaramitaa caryaam caramaano,
Vyavalokayati sma panca-skandhaams
Taamsh ca svabhaavashoonyaan pashyati sma.
Iha, Shaariputra, roopam shoonyataa, shoonyataiva roopam,
Roopaan na prithak shoonyataa, shunyataayaa na prithag roopam,
Yad roopam, saa shoonyataa, ya shoonyataa, tad roopam,
Evam eva vedanaa-samjnaa-samskaara-vijnaanam.
Iha, Shaariputra, sarva-dharmaah shoonyataa-lakshanaa,
Anutpannaa, aniruddhaa, amalaa, avimalaa, anoonaa, aparipoornaah.
Tasmaac Shaariputra, shoonyataayaam
Na roopam, na vedanaa, na samjnaa, na samskaaraah, na vijnaanam,
Na cakshuh-shrotra-ghraana-jihvaa-kaaya-manaamsi,
Na roopa-shabda-gandha-rasa-sprashtavya-dharmaah,
Na cakshoor-dhaatur yaavan na manovijnaana-dhaatuh,
Na avidyaa, na avidyaa-kshayo yaavan na jaraa-maranam, na jaraa-marana-kshayo,
Na duhkha-samudaya-nirodha-maargaa,
Na jnaanam, na praaptir na apraaptih.
Tasmaac Shaariputra, apraaptitvaad Bodhisattvasya
Prajnaapaaramitaam aashritya, viharaty acittaavaranah,
Cittaavarana-naastitvaad atrastro,
Viparyaasa-atikraanto, nishthaa-Nirvaana-praaptah.
Tryadhva-vyavasthitaah sarva-Buddhaah
Prajnaapaaramitaam aashritya
Anuttaraam Samyaksambodhim abhisambuddhaah.
Tasmaaj jnaatavyam Prajnaapaaramitaa mahaa-mantro,
Mahaa-vidyaa mantro, 'nuttara-mantro, samasama-mantrah,
Sarva duhkha prashamanah, satyam, amithyatvaat.
Prajnaapaaramitaayaam ukto mantrah tad-yathaa:
Gate, gate, paaragate, paarasamgate, Bodhi, svaahaa!'
Maze's special eye is ripped from his skull, still attached to his head with a single vein like a morbid balloon. His arms and legs are twisted into loops and his body is crushed like a soda can, mashed into a ball and rolled along the ground.
He bleeds out in agony.
'I just wanted...to get paid...'
With a bloody cough, he gives up the ghost. Igor sighs.
'Well...I'm glad I'm vegan.'
The Amulet opens up, unfolding like a hexagonal carpet until it forms a large door shaped like a prismatic cell in a honeycomb.
'Meg, Chira...can you accompany me for a final journey? I promise after this we won't need to do any more travelling.'
'I swore to accompany you, kid. You've got my back.'
'And mine. Let's see this through.'
They enter the door, walking on some neon blue steps made of strange stone.
Along the way Silas questions Chira:
'Why did you choose to guard me?'
'On paper I'd say I was prompted by a divine being who may or may not have been a hallucination concocted in my mind by some strong booze. Gun to my head, I'd say I wanted to have one more adventure before I retired for good. The kind of journey me and my old war buds might have.'
'You haven't said much about them. Are they...'
'Dead, most of them. I found out one was an unkillable being whose natural state was outside time, space and matter, so I'm sure he's fine.'
'If you could talk to the friends you lost one more time, what would you say?'
He thinks about it.
'I should have died with you.'
Dark black lightning cascades over the sky of this portal. Two shadows enter as if crashing through a window.
The first is Zouvereine. Next to him is someone, or something, that Silas yet again can't describe.
Wevedswine Femsdire by Kitsune Sobo
The boys sing a K-Pop song to celebrate killing the Destroyer of Worlds
(romantic piano kicks in)
(Verse 1: Igor)
Malgeun haneure haetsal bichwo,
Hamkke geonneun gireul bwa,
Urin hamkkehae, modu da hamkke,
Yonggiwa huimangeul ango.
(steady drum at slow 10-beat tempo)
(Pre-Chorus: Aleksandar)
Modu hamkke chumchuneun bam,
Jeo haneul wiro naragalge,
Duryeoumeul tteolchyeonaego,
Uriui kkumeul hyanghae naaga.
(jazz guitars)
(Chorus: All)
Yonggi itge, damdamhage,
Duryeoumeul igineun geoya,
Binnaneun jeo haetsalcheoreom,
Deo balgeun naeireul mandeureo.
(Verse 2: Yerlik)
Eonjena hamkkehaneun urideul,
Himeul moaseo noraehalge,
Oneureul mitgo naeireul hyanghae,
Uriui kkumeul pyeolchyeogalge.
(Bridge: Venu)
Nunbusin miraega urireul gidaryeo,
Jeo bada neomeo nopi naragalge,
Hanadoen uriui himeuro,
Duryeoumeul igigo naagalge.
(music crescendo)
(Chorus: All)
Yonggi itge, damdamhage,
Duryeoumeul igineun geoya,
Binnaneun jeo haetsalcheoreom,
Deo balgeun naeireul mandeureo.
(instruments fade out)
(Outro: Igor)
Huimangi neomchineun uriui norae,
Ijen hamkkehaneun yonggiui sigan,
Uriga hamkkeramyeon eotteon eoryeoumdo,
Igil su isseo, gyesong naagalge.A few months later
The final part of the Cosmic Trilogy, focusing on events in Dimension XVIII in the year 2808 CE.
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