Chapter 974
New
Malcolm Tent
Monkey with a typewriter.
- Joined
- Oct 16, 2020
- Messages
- 7,029
- Likes received
- 319,110
We came back to reality dazed. The first thing I did was check on Callie. "Cal? Sweetie? You with me? How's your head?" I surged Zagan, flooding her body with life energy before she could answer, and she giggled and smacked at my hand.
"Wait til I respond, idiot," she said fondly. "And I'm…good." She sounded conflicted. But not in a bad way. I helped her sit up, smiling the whole time. I was just so relieved she was alright.
Everyone around us looked frantic. I glanced around to find my family and friends huddled nearby. "Hey, assholes," snapped Benny. "Maybe show some consideration? Callie just screamed and collapsed and then Shane went down after her. I don't know what happened to you idiots but I do know the rest of us were freaking out about it, so maybe take a minute to reassure us?" His voice was ragged, and I recognized the same tight helplessness I felt earlier.
"I will," I told him firmly. "AFTER I check on Callie. I need to make sure she's ok, we just went through something a little crazy, and I'll tell you all about it in a minute."
Callie stood up, spreading her wings…which had changed. Rather than a single pair of large wings, she now had three pairs of smaller wings. Oddly, these seemed much less intrusive, able to be folded up in a way the others really hadn't, but it was still shocking. Holly, one of the angels who were part of my crew and Chelsea's retinue visibly flinched when she saw them, looking terrified. "Holy shit, are you an ARCHANGEL now?"
My wife blinked in confusion, then her eyes went hazy in the way I had experience myself a thousand times when checking my stats. "Yes," she said with interest. "My Path is gone, and so is my trait, and my ability. The only remaining evidence of any of them is 'Master Trait: Heretic Archangel'. I'll be honest, that's a bit of a let down. When Shane gets a new power his stat sheet always gets way longer and more complicated. Mine was already pretty thin."
"Trust me, that's a good thing," I assured her. "Keeping track of all my bullshit is exhausting. But I am a little surprised. I mean, I figured you'd get some kind of demigod trait after…that. Though I guess it doesn't work like that."
Holly shook her head. "You don't get it." Her voice was frustrated and tight. "This is…there are no Archangels. None. Not even S-rankers. The transition from angel to Archangel isn't a matter of degree, it's a matter of type. Archangels aren't just 'angel but better'. They're…primordial entities. It's like comparing chickens to velociraptors. An Archangel is the beloved child of a god. An entity custom built to serve the will of their deity. Angels are BASED on them, but it's like someone trying to paint a masterpiece based on the description someone gave after seeing a blurry photograph one time."
Her tone had become both reverent and terrified. Callie looked conflicted. On the one hand…cool. On the other, while we'd known creating her Chronicle would let Atlas guide the way her traits blended together, hearing about it in that way made it seem intrusive and kind of stifling. It was clear from context that he's woven together the three Skills in such a way as to make the absolute most of her trait, in the same way that the old man had created the Wish power.
Honestly, we probably would have been a lot more worried, except he had ALSO blended the bond in, and left it just as strong as ever. I could still feel my wife beside me, still feel her soul touching mine, and it put both of us at ease.
My SECOND reaction after caution was awe. Binding the Chronicle like that…it was something I hadn't even imagined doing. But it was also a direct extension of my own abilities. And I knew that he'd shown me that on purpose. He's not only rewritten her story to have the effect he wanted, he'd disassembled MY OWN books to create hers, and had used that physical representation as a direct medium to alter her nature in a way I hadn't known was possible.
Atlas understood Skill and ability creation in a way I don't think anyone I had ever met did. Possibly even moreso than the old man. And speaking of the her Chronicle, I turned to my wife with an eager gleam in my eye. "So, you have your Chronicle now, right? What is it?" My Ten Demons Tome was unique. An extension of myself and my powers. Binding a Chronicle was a deeply personal thing, and given how much Callie had put into the Skills he was working with, I was sure the result within him helping guide her had been something amazing.
She held up her hands, which whooshed to life with blue black fire. "The Book of the Final Flame. It's an extension of the Heretic Fire, which is…more than I thought." As she stared at her hands, the blue black flame shifted subtle, the blue becoming muted, and I felt a sort of cold seep into the air. The same cold and despair I felt from the black mist of the Void taint. I blinked at her. "The Flame of the Void," she explained. "The Heretic Fire contains the seed of Void flame. It was Adam's old power, after all. Now that I'm better with it I can draw that out."
"Because Heretic Fire only works on the actual Void spawn," I nodded. "Now you have a weapon against other Ascendants when you need it. Though I have to wonder, if suppressing the heretic part creates that, what does suppressing the Void part create?"
She blinked, then focused on her hands. The blue undertones in the Heretix Fire strengthened, the black parts washing out, and it felt like…I stared down at my own hands. Zagan. Kind of. More purification than life force. But still a solid healing ability. That would be useful. Holly didn't seem to care though. She was more focused on something else. "What about the sword?" We turned to look at her in confusion. "Archangels aren't just angels but better, I TOLD you that. They're the sword of their god. Literally. Archangels have a soul weapon. Like Shane does."
I blinked at that. I hadn't realized the relationship I had with the Ten Demons Tree could be replicated, but I probably should have. Hell, the tree was GROWING out of my tome. I wondered what the connection was there to a god's object of power. Regardless, Callie seemed excited by the possibility.
Personally, I was more focused on something else. "If she has a soul weapon. She must have a place to keep it. My library is a pseudo Domain based on the old man's. Does that mean Callie has her own pseudo Domain like that?" My pseudo Domains were seeds of and ACTUAL Domain, and the foundation, I was pretty sure, of a god world, albeit in a VERY indirect way. If Callie had one, it could potentially give her all sorts of unique advantages, depending what the damned thing actually did.
Holly looked pretty confused, and at a general loss, which didn't shock me. Callie, however, knew from entering my library how this worked. She smiled softly at me, closed her eyes and then…
We were alone. Or rather, together. But everyone else was gone. We were standing inside of a huge black cathedral. The windows along the sides were towering murals of stained glass showing scenes of Callie's life. One was her meeting me, one was her slaying a god, one was our wedding, and the moment I proposed, and a dozen other important moments, some featuring myself and others not.
The pews of the cathedral were empty, as was the aisle, but at the end sat an altar. It was carved of gleaming black stone so dark it ate the light, and a book sat upon it, flickering with blue black flame. Above THAT, sat a sword. A huge behemoth of a weapon, easily six feet long and made of the same black rock, polished to a sheen and sharpened to a razor's edge so sharp it stung my eyes to look at it. In the pommel, held in a clawed hand, was a deep gem of startling blue, the tones deepening to black towards the center.
Callie approached, looking awestruck. I couldn't blame her. This was…a lot. Atlas was really working for that father of the year mug. I had no idea how he had DONE all this. Apparently gods were WAY more bullshit than I had been aware of. Which made sense. I hadn't had much contact with them, really, and never when they were serious about doing something and unopposed. Also Atlas was OLD. Maybe this was just a factor of him being THAT scary.
My wife approached the altar reverently, reaching up to wrap her hand around the hilt of the colossal weapon, lifting it free of whatever orbit was holding it over the book. She lifted it easily, the blade seemingly lighter than air, and whipped it back and forth a few times, her face splitting with unconcealed glee.
I sighed. Because of COURSE he would know that giving her loot was the fastest way to my wife's heart. "Shane!" she squealed in excitement. "I have a SWORD!" She spun, whipping it in a quick series of cuts that, while mildly impressive, made it clear she had no clue how to handle a weapon that size.
I winced and stepped forward to grab her wrist. "Whoah there, let's maybe not disembowel me. Not sure what it would do here, but I'd rather not find out. I'll talk to Fade about you getting swordplay lessons." I frowned. "I'm a little jealous. Why don't we have a staff master on the crew? Remind me to find one of those."
She snickered, then flicked her fingers and the sword appeared back above the book. "It's…amazing," she whispered in awe. "I think it might be one of his objects of power. Or part of one? I don't think I could hold the whole thing. But it's powerful, and it'll get stronger as I do." Her smiled was so wide it threatened to split her face. "I've always been so jealous of your weapon, Shane. Like I didn't say anything because why bother? But this…? This is all mine, and it's AMAZING!"
Flicking her fingers again, the blade caught fire, and the whole sword lit with the internal glow of the Heretic Flame. It looked imposing and majestic, but insubstantial. Like fire trapped in a black soap bubble. "Does it have a name?" I asked her with a grin. "My Ten Demons Tree didn't until I gave it one, so maybe you have to pick it?"
She blinked at that, her hyperfocus on the blade shaking as she was brought back to the present. "It doesn't. But I think I'll call it….Gossamer."
A word that meant something filmy and insubstantial. I could kind of see it. I smiled as she raced forward to snap it up again, retreating to the empty area behind the altar to swing it around. She looked so happy, all I could do was watch and smile. At least on the outside. Time in the soul space could be weird, so we weren't in a rush, but I had other concerns besides my family waiting for an explanation.
Because this was…a lot. Like yes, Atlas wanted Callie to be his legacy, to right his wrongs and redeem him to the world. I suspected he probably eventually wanted to be resurrected, but that was between them. We'd deal with it when it came. But to do all this for her. This wasn't currying favor with your new kid. This was arming his daughter for war.
We knew the Void was planning something. It was probably related to the Void god, or at least a new one, judging by what had triggered the Chronicle formation. But that was ALL we knew. What I was more worried about was all the things we DIDN'T know? Who were our real enemies? What were they planning? And how awful was it going to be that a dead god had felt the need to give Callie THIS to prepare her for it. There was no such thing as a free lunch, and I had the unsettling feeling this particular meal was going to include us eating a lot of crow.
"Wait til I respond, idiot," she said fondly. "And I'm…good." She sounded conflicted. But not in a bad way. I helped her sit up, smiling the whole time. I was just so relieved she was alright.
Everyone around us looked frantic. I glanced around to find my family and friends huddled nearby. "Hey, assholes," snapped Benny. "Maybe show some consideration? Callie just screamed and collapsed and then Shane went down after her. I don't know what happened to you idiots but I do know the rest of us were freaking out about it, so maybe take a minute to reassure us?" His voice was ragged, and I recognized the same tight helplessness I felt earlier.
"I will," I told him firmly. "AFTER I check on Callie. I need to make sure she's ok, we just went through something a little crazy, and I'll tell you all about it in a minute."
Callie stood up, spreading her wings…which had changed. Rather than a single pair of large wings, she now had three pairs of smaller wings. Oddly, these seemed much less intrusive, able to be folded up in a way the others really hadn't, but it was still shocking. Holly, one of the angels who were part of my crew and Chelsea's retinue visibly flinched when she saw them, looking terrified. "Holy shit, are you an ARCHANGEL now?"
My wife blinked in confusion, then her eyes went hazy in the way I had experience myself a thousand times when checking my stats. "Yes," she said with interest. "My Path is gone, and so is my trait, and my ability. The only remaining evidence of any of them is 'Master Trait: Heretic Archangel'. I'll be honest, that's a bit of a let down. When Shane gets a new power his stat sheet always gets way longer and more complicated. Mine was already pretty thin."
"Trust me, that's a good thing," I assured her. "Keeping track of all my bullshit is exhausting. But I am a little surprised. I mean, I figured you'd get some kind of demigod trait after…that. Though I guess it doesn't work like that."
Holly shook her head. "You don't get it." Her voice was frustrated and tight. "This is…there are no Archangels. None. Not even S-rankers. The transition from angel to Archangel isn't a matter of degree, it's a matter of type. Archangels aren't just 'angel but better'. They're…primordial entities. It's like comparing chickens to velociraptors. An Archangel is the beloved child of a god. An entity custom built to serve the will of their deity. Angels are BASED on them, but it's like someone trying to paint a masterpiece based on the description someone gave after seeing a blurry photograph one time."
Her tone had become both reverent and terrified. Callie looked conflicted. On the one hand…cool. On the other, while we'd known creating her Chronicle would let Atlas guide the way her traits blended together, hearing about it in that way made it seem intrusive and kind of stifling. It was clear from context that he's woven together the three Skills in such a way as to make the absolute most of her trait, in the same way that the old man had created the Wish power.
Honestly, we probably would have been a lot more worried, except he had ALSO blended the bond in, and left it just as strong as ever. I could still feel my wife beside me, still feel her soul touching mine, and it put both of us at ease.
My SECOND reaction after caution was awe. Binding the Chronicle like that…it was something I hadn't even imagined doing. But it was also a direct extension of my own abilities. And I knew that he'd shown me that on purpose. He's not only rewritten her story to have the effect he wanted, he'd disassembled MY OWN books to create hers, and had used that physical representation as a direct medium to alter her nature in a way I hadn't known was possible.
Atlas understood Skill and ability creation in a way I don't think anyone I had ever met did. Possibly even moreso than the old man. And speaking of the her Chronicle, I turned to my wife with an eager gleam in my eye. "So, you have your Chronicle now, right? What is it?" My Ten Demons Tome was unique. An extension of myself and my powers. Binding a Chronicle was a deeply personal thing, and given how much Callie had put into the Skills he was working with, I was sure the result within him helping guide her had been something amazing.
She held up her hands, which whooshed to life with blue black fire. "The Book of the Final Flame. It's an extension of the Heretic Fire, which is…more than I thought." As she stared at her hands, the blue black flame shifted subtle, the blue becoming muted, and I felt a sort of cold seep into the air. The same cold and despair I felt from the black mist of the Void taint. I blinked at her. "The Flame of the Void," she explained. "The Heretic Fire contains the seed of Void flame. It was Adam's old power, after all. Now that I'm better with it I can draw that out."
"Because Heretic Fire only works on the actual Void spawn," I nodded. "Now you have a weapon against other Ascendants when you need it. Though I have to wonder, if suppressing the heretic part creates that, what does suppressing the Void part create?"
She blinked, then focused on her hands. The blue undertones in the Heretix Fire strengthened, the black parts washing out, and it felt like…I stared down at my own hands. Zagan. Kind of. More purification than life force. But still a solid healing ability. That would be useful. Holly didn't seem to care though. She was more focused on something else. "What about the sword?" We turned to look at her in confusion. "Archangels aren't just angels but better, I TOLD you that. They're the sword of their god. Literally. Archangels have a soul weapon. Like Shane does."
I blinked at that. I hadn't realized the relationship I had with the Ten Demons Tree could be replicated, but I probably should have. Hell, the tree was GROWING out of my tome. I wondered what the connection was there to a god's object of power. Regardless, Callie seemed excited by the possibility.
Personally, I was more focused on something else. "If she has a soul weapon. She must have a place to keep it. My library is a pseudo Domain based on the old man's. Does that mean Callie has her own pseudo Domain like that?" My pseudo Domains were seeds of and ACTUAL Domain, and the foundation, I was pretty sure, of a god world, albeit in a VERY indirect way. If Callie had one, it could potentially give her all sorts of unique advantages, depending what the damned thing actually did.
Holly looked pretty confused, and at a general loss, which didn't shock me. Callie, however, knew from entering my library how this worked. She smiled softly at me, closed her eyes and then…
We were alone. Or rather, together. But everyone else was gone. We were standing inside of a huge black cathedral. The windows along the sides were towering murals of stained glass showing scenes of Callie's life. One was her meeting me, one was her slaying a god, one was our wedding, and the moment I proposed, and a dozen other important moments, some featuring myself and others not.
The pews of the cathedral were empty, as was the aisle, but at the end sat an altar. It was carved of gleaming black stone so dark it ate the light, and a book sat upon it, flickering with blue black flame. Above THAT, sat a sword. A huge behemoth of a weapon, easily six feet long and made of the same black rock, polished to a sheen and sharpened to a razor's edge so sharp it stung my eyes to look at it. In the pommel, held in a clawed hand, was a deep gem of startling blue, the tones deepening to black towards the center.
Callie approached, looking awestruck. I couldn't blame her. This was…a lot. Atlas was really working for that father of the year mug. I had no idea how he had DONE all this. Apparently gods were WAY more bullshit than I had been aware of. Which made sense. I hadn't had much contact with them, really, and never when they were serious about doing something and unopposed. Also Atlas was OLD. Maybe this was just a factor of him being THAT scary.
My wife approached the altar reverently, reaching up to wrap her hand around the hilt of the colossal weapon, lifting it free of whatever orbit was holding it over the book. She lifted it easily, the blade seemingly lighter than air, and whipped it back and forth a few times, her face splitting with unconcealed glee.
I sighed. Because of COURSE he would know that giving her loot was the fastest way to my wife's heart. "Shane!" she squealed in excitement. "I have a SWORD!" She spun, whipping it in a quick series of cuts that, while mildly impressive, made it clear she had no clue how to handle a weapon that size.
I winced and stepped forward to grab her wrist. "Whoah there, let's maybe not disembowel me. Not sure what it would do here, but I'd rather not find out. I'll talk to Fade about you getting swordplay lessons." I frowned. "I'm a little jealous. Why don't we have a staff master on the crew? Remind me to find one of those."
She snickered, then flicked her fingers and the sword appeared back above the book. "It's…amazing," she whispered in awe. "I think it might be one of his objects of power. Or part of one? I don't think I could hold the whole thing. But it's powerful, and it'll get stronger as I do." Her smiled was so wide it threatened to split her face. "I've always been so jealous of your weapon, Shane. Like I didn't say anything because why bother? But this…? This is all mine, and it's AMAZING!"
Flicking her fingers again, the blade caught fire, and the whole sword lit with the internal glow of the Heretic Flame. It looked imposing and majestic, but insubstantial. Like fire trapped in a black soap bubble. "Does it have a name?" I asked her with a grin. "My Ten Demons Tree didn't until I gave it one, so maybe you have to pick it?"
She blinked at that, her hyperfocus on the blade shaking as she was brought back to the present. "It doesn't. But I think I'll call it….Gossamer."
A word that meant something filmy and insubstantial. I could kind of see it. I smiled as she raced forward to snap it up again, retreating to the empty area behind the altar to swing it around. She looked so happy, all I could do was watch and smile. At least on the outside. Time in the soul space could be weird, so we weren't in a rush, but I had other concerns besides my family waiting for an explanation.
Because this was…a lot. Like yes, Atlas wanted Callie to be his legacy, to right his wrongs and redeem him to the world. I suspected he probably eventually wanted to be resurrected, but that was between them. We'd deal with it when it came. But to do all this for her. This wasn't currying favor with your new kid. This was arming his daughter for war.
We knew the Void was planning something. It was probably related to the Void god, or at least a new one, judging by what had triggered the Chronicle formation. But that was ALL we knew. What I was more worried about was all the things we DIDN'T know? Who were our real enemies? What were they planning? And how awful was it going to be that a dead god had felt the need to give Callie THIS to prepare her for it. There was no such thing as a free lunch, and I had the unsettling feeling this particular meal was going to include us eating a lot of crow.