Chapter 675: Blake and Kiaan

Blake opened his eyes as his Psionic Sphere hummed down.

“They want me in the city,” he told Seul-ki with a sigh. She was in her own chair beside him, feeding him mana and enhancing his power. “No reason to wait around. Ready for your first trip back?”

Seul-ki frowned, checking on their sleeping son in the nearby crib without a word. She was still anxious about going back in the player world. Afraid of what the others had heard about her, and what they might do if they had the chance. Afraid of Mason.

Blake didn’t blame her, though he promised…her decisions back with Jeong were not public knowledge. This was good, since the good citizens of the holy city might vote for her public execution if they knew. If only as a kind of catharsis.

They’d also done a lot of work to perfect her disguise. Adding subtle perfumes and an alchemical oil that would mask and change her scent. She could even clone a version of his Adaptive Veil, if she really wanted. If she had to escape.

“I prefer to stay until I’m truly needed,” she said eventually, still looking at the baby.

Blake stood and sighed, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist from behind.

“You can’t stay in the tower forever. Mason won’t hurt you. He has much bigger things to worry about. The end of the world, for example.”

“And after?”

It was the proverbial elephant in the room. What would Mason do when the threat was over, and she no longer provided any ‘value’ to him? She was afraid he’d kill her, or else lock her away for a decade as punishment for her ‘crimes’.

“I won’t let him hurt you or take you away,” Blake said, and meant. “Worst case, you’re banished from the places he controls. And who cares? This is our home anyway.”

She turned and met his eyes. He knew what she was thinking and it didn’t require mind powers—that he couldn’t stop Mason even if he wanted to. That he couldn’t promise to protect her.

But there were many ways to skin a cat. Or manipulate a man like Mason. He sighed, not wanting to explain them all.

“I don’t have to stop him, my love. I can prevent him from ever finding you in this tower. I can make sure he forgets all about you. You have to trust me.”

She smiled and put her little hands on his chest. She did trust him. A fact that still confounded and improved him as a man. A beautiful, intelligent woman loved and trusted him, despite knowing almost everything he was capable of. It was strange when you didn’t even trust yourself.

He knew she wouldn’t come with him until things were more difficult, but he thought it was important to get her thinking about it. He gave her a kiss goodbye and went to Ilya next to tell her what he was up to.

She smiled from her bed and gestured him over, and sent her servants away. She treated him very formally when her people were around—for orcish cultural and political reasons. But neither of them liked it much and they preferred to be alone.

He took her hand and kissed it. She was pregnant again and feeling sick, looking even greener than usual. Their son cooed and played with a Primordially made rattle in the crib next to her bed. He walked over and gave the boy a finger to grip and stare at with his beautiful amber eyes.

The boy grinned and squeezed like he might rip it off, pink lips spreading across the pale green skin. His strength was always surprising. Even ‘half’ orcs came out a lot more fully cooked than humans. Apparently normal orc children could walk in a few weeks.

“He’ll be a great warrior,” he said with a smile. “He’s already as strong as I am.”

“Of course he will.” Ilya fidgeted and let out a big, steadying breath. “And a wizard, like his father. Orc eyes never lie, my love. He has the gift.”

Blake had never expected to feel so much…pride and pleasure at being a father. But one look at his first born son when he came out squealing, and he’d felt the world shift. Like his natural interest in legacy and his own house finally made sense.

“I’m off to guard a city that won’t get attacked,” he said, moving back to Ilya to stroke her forehead. She rolled her eyes.

“Why don’t you tell your human kin, then? Our oracles have seen the main battles. And your dreams and visions, didn’t they…”

“You worry about the orcs. I’ll worry about the humans. I’ll see you after.”

He regretted telling her about his ‘visions’—which was really Psion coming to him in his dreams. The god of magic and chaos had become quite active as the end event loomed. Their last conversation had been very interesting.

We prefer the universe with the prime intact, said the swirling swarm of divine fish, as Blake stared and floated in darkness. It’s more…interesting.

“Good thing I left my brother’s mind fully intact, then. He’ll be a very useful asset to preserve the prime.”

Admitting when Blake was right wasn’t really something Psion did. But the god’s temporary silence was enjoyable enough.

The Nexus structures are obviously the primary targets, they continued in their insane, clustered voices, said like they assumed Blake knew. They can be attacked at any time, but the chances are less than 25% until at least day four. Planar invasions will double by then. And there will be captured settlements that produce far stronger breaches.

Blake said nothing, surprised to be given information so freely and easily from the capricious god. He also had no such confidence about anything that the enemy would do.

In fact, hearing Psion’s prediction only made him suspicious.

There will be a chance for us. The entire swarm of fish stopped swimming and stared, the beady, multi-colored eyes a creepy wall of glowing dots. The horned god’s avatar need not survive the final event. If so, it would not be your doing. The chances could be swayed. They could be improved. The prime could live, and the prince could die. We could still win.

Win? What was winning, anyway? He laughed. He cried. He swore and told Psion to go fuck themselves, that he’d never do such a thing, that Mason was his brother and he loved him. That everything else in this world was just an illusion. He also asked how best to betray Mason to his death.

He did and said all these things and many others, all at the same time, with the many pieces of his brain. He did them because he knew roboGod was listening. Because RoboGod was Psion, just as he was Gaia and Cerebus.

And to confound an all knowing being of perfect Order could only be achieved in one way—if you yourself didn’t know what you’d do. Because you could imagine all of it. Were capable of all of it. Became you had become chaos itself.

Psion listened with great interest, no judgment, no more questions. And responded to everything.

**

Kiaan, son of Kiaan, raced across the farmlands south of the holy city. A dozen demons were trying to kill him, but he ignored them.

His speed was such now that the terrain was his biggest threat. At top speed, if he hit a large stone or a tree, it would crack his Personal Shield with more force than those demons could produce in several hits. Not that they’d ever hit him.

He opened his profile and clicked open the centralized scout messaging system.

I’m detecting increased activity around the city. Update all eastern reports ASAP.

Maybe he was being paranoid, but he felt a trick. Dozens of attacks were happening simultaneously in the settlements, but they were weak. The western continent seemed relatively calm—easily handled by Mason. But with just enough to keep his attention.

There was something…wrong.

Kiaan had been alone and vulnerable too long in this new world. He knew when he felt the eyes of a predator. Little hairs were rising up on his neck and arms. There was something watching them, waiting, prepared to strike.

He had yet to say so to the others because he had no evidence. Yet he knew, deep in his bones. He stopped questioning himself and accepted it as true in his own mind. The only questions were where, and when.

Mason’s analysis had been logical. The main attacks should not arrive so early—not until the enemy had gained ground and had more assets to support such an attack. But perhaps it was that logic which gave rise to the event. Vulnerability and weakness were provocative. What was currently the greatest, weakest prize?

The answer was quickly obvious. Especially as the scouts updated their reports all over the continent.

Mid-east clear.

Mid-west clear.

South clear.

Far south yellow alert.

West yellow alert.

East yellow alert.

All messages came in the same. Minor attacks. No attacks. The vast majority of players sent out to defend settlements currently idle. Removed from the board. Only a hundred of the two thousand maybe could return instantly. A few hundred more could run and reach it in a few hours.

The enemy was attacking, but not nearly in the numbers they’d anticipated. No. It was all a trick. As the first day perhaps was a trick. As maybe the system message itself had been a kind of trick. He pulled it up again.

[Planar Convergence Sub-event: in progress: Eastern Mana Scour. Defensive positions in Eastern continent advised. Points will be awarded, or penalized, for all strategic locations successfully defended or captured. Good luck!]

It had made it sound like there would be attacks all over the eastern continent. But it didn’t say that. It wouldn’t have deceived them directly if it wasn’t true. Not if it at least attacked the east somewhere.

The Nexus. That was its target. Kiaan believed such a loss would be an instant defeat for mankind. The enemy was trying to surprise them and knock them out early. They could afford to lose smaller settlements if he was wrong.

His lord was a warrior and predator and he would decide what to do with such information. They would both just have to rely on their instincts. He opened his messaging and a direct line.

Patron: East Continent not yet hard pressed. Believe if all settlements were targets attacks would have proceeded mostly at night, and in vast number. Personal intuition only. Prediction: Major attack on the holy city. Imminently. Suggest all possible defense.

He swerved around a small valley, then stopped, listening and watching as he took a breath. His demon pursuers had given up some time ago, and he was alone.

There. It is sent.

He watched more updates roll in, still with nothing like they’d predicted in terms of severity. He was about to turn and run back to the city to scout around its walls again when his message dinged.

Mason Nimitz: Understood.

Kiaan couldn’t help but smile at the brevity. Correct or not, he put the anxiety of responsibility from his mind. He had done his duty and acted according to his experience and nature. Now mankind’s greatest killer would do the same.