Dear parents, masters of the city, and beloved members of the committee:

  You are all idiots.

  No, calm down. You will do nothing. I will remain headmaster. You can complain or threaten me all you want, but none of you are Legends. And all of you are just here to bellyache. You're much like your own children. Actually, you're much like me as well. I, too, am incredibly selfish and would like the System to favor me and be kind to me over everyone else, but that's not going to happen anytime soon. So sit down and let me finish.

  I've received a mixture of complaints. Some of you think the classes are too broad and theoretical and need to be more practical. Others think the classes are too detailed and overwhelming and that the children need to be eased into things.

  I'm here to tell you that these classes are variable. And if you're expecting a child to become an instant expert after finishing them, you clearly don't remember your days of education. They are primers. They introduce you to information. They refine you and hopefully remove bad habits from your life. They expose you to new details. But ultimately, it is a Pathbearer's individual duty to further their own development. There is nothing I can give a student who is not interested in their field of study.

  And I'm looking at you parents because some of you are absolutely trying to force them down a path they have no interest in. There is more than one way to be a Vanguard. Not everyone needs to be swinging a hammer at the front of the line. Some of them are perfectly good as scout support. Sometimes you need a large wrecking ball that smashes through all environmental boundaries and causes havoc behind enemy lines. That's valuable. Sometimes Shadows don't want to act like Thieves. They can be observers, or they can simply be explorers. In fact, they make very good explorers. It's usually effective to be a Path of the Shadow explorer because none of the monsters see you, and you are not often detected. This allows you to come back to civilization with your findings instead of dying in some godforsaken gate because you awoke a primordial dimensional that is fueled by the lore of castrations.

  Once more, Phoenix Academy is not a daycare. It is a development center. It is a place for people to harness their potential, and that is something that takes time and self-understanding. Self-understanding that most of you people mutilate.

  I see you. I remember many of you before you were noble houses. I've been here for a long time, and this claim of family mythology? I predate that. It's not real. That's not your mythology. That was your forefather. That was your ancestor. That was your brother or kin who was somewhere else, and you are borderline parasites leeching off of them.

  This is not a place for noble houses to constantly play recruitment games or to squeeze out every bit of value for their own interest. You are beginning to forget your place. You are citizens of the republic before anything else, which means that you are beneath the Council, beneath the Ascendants, and per my status as Legendary Pathbearer, you are beneath me as well.

  There will not be a discussion today. I have come only to say this. You have no interest in your child's upbringing. You have no interest in developing their skills. You have no interest in general education. You want them to fit a specific mold.

  But I will put this in return. There is a word for a predictable Pathbearer that is shaped from another's parameters, and that is “victim.” If any of your children turn up the way you want them to, buy a casket now. They will not make it off the battlefield. They will not return from their expeditions. They will not succeed at their studies.

  To prevail is to do what has not been done. To explore the territories untread. You simply want them to succeed in the most banal way possible. And I'm beginning to notice that we might have coddled you more than we have coddled them.

  -Headmaster Hades Hymn to the Annual Admin-Parents Conference (This happened one time and never again; noble “enforcers” sent to “educate” Headmaster Hymn were never recovered)

  221 (I)

  Academia [I]

  "Godsfuckingdammit, Cripple!" Shiv roared, "Can't you people do a single godsdamn thing right? This wouldn't have happened if you'd just, just..." The Deathless had to stop himself. He was feeling an aneurysm coming on.

  "Not focusing all power on slaying the Tarrasque immediately was a strategic decision enacted on the part of Veronica Chandler," Cripple said, defending their actions. "She wished to use the Tarrasque as a weapon to destabilize—”

  "I don't give a shit what she was planning to do!" Shiv shouted. "It already became borderline unkillable! And now you lost track of it! Do you have anyone else who has Vitality Drain?"

  "There are a few Pathbearers within the Republic that possess such abilities," Cripple said, beginning to sound uneasy.

  "And how many of them are Legends?" Shiv asked, his left eye twitching.

  Cripple didn't say anything anymore.

  "Godsfucking damn it!" Shiv snarled once again. He was beginning to inch closer and closer to a berserker rage. "It's Undying, Cripple! Undying! Sullain made it that way, using my Vitae! If you hadn't teleported me out of the battle, I would have kept draining it. I could have finished it off. We could have all finished it off. If you'd all just held it in place, I could have sucked it till there was nothing left of its soul. But noooo. You all just had to stick your heads up your asses. Motherfuckers!"

  Shiv was done. He stormed away from the Ascendant, leaving Adam behind, who was no more pleased than he was.

  "And where exactly do you think the Tarrasque went?" Adam asked.

  "Initially, it was mainly contained within the Southlands, in the Kingdom of Blood and Sacrifice. The Ley Gods were overwhelmed by its sudden appearance in their territory."

  "Sudden appearance?" Adam scoffed. "I sure wonder how it got there. How many people did you kill?"

  "Not our people," Cripple said, a hint of anger tainting its voice.

  "And that makes it fine," Adam sneered humorlessly.

  "Yes," Cripple responded. "It is a kinder fate than that which would have otherwise awaited them. Especially with the acts they have committed against our citizens.”

  "And you're certain of this?" Adam asked, almost shouting. His own outrage was climbing as well. "Because a great deal of what I've learned all my life turned out to be mostly false."

  "To be born in the South means to be a slave. It means that your vitality, your lifeblood, your mana are dedicated to one of the Ley Gods." Cripple was unashamed. It made a fist, and the outline of his ethereal form burned brighter. "The Ley Gods care nothing for those beneath them. They eat, and they mutilate, and they have their people build temples to their glory. Those people were already dead. It was merely a question of time."

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Adam scoffed bitterly. "You know, sometimes I see a flicker of decency inside you. And then you remind me that you're an Ascendant. There's always another excuse. Since you said initially, I take it it's not in the Southlands anymore?"

  "No," Cripple said. "The last thing we managed to detect was a slight disturbance in the middle of the Pacific. But after that, we lost all trace of it."

  "It's unknown because Udraal probably got to it," Shiv said, stomping back over. He pointed a finger at Cripple, and it took most of what he had not to throw himself at the Strongest’s manifestation. "Remember Udraal? Udraal Thann? The one that decided to ambush you and killed a bunch of the Avatars?"

  "I am aware of who Udraal Thann is," Cripple said, its voice slowly filling with repressed anger. "I know him better than you do."

  Shiv sneered. He wasn't quite so sure about that. "Well, you clearly don't seem to respect him as a threat because this shit was just sloppy. Instead of actively trying to hunt me down, maybe the glorious Ascendants should do something meaningful, like calling the other nations across Integrated Earth and establishing a proper manhunt to put this thing down."

  "That is unlikely," Cripple replied with a hint of weariness. "We have allies, but the Tarrasque at present is potentially containable, and its route of destruction can be programmed."

  Can Hu stepped toward the Strongest with a loud trill of scorn. "This is folly. You are not thinking clearly, Ascendant."

  For the first time, Cripple's cyclopean eye fell upon Can Hu, and the mending form of the automaton was bathed in a beam of incandescence. "Penitent Can Hu," Cripple said, recognising it from their meeting in the Rubix Well.

  “One of the few that remain, in the metal,” Can Hu intoned. “Your mind is compromised, Ascendant. You know this. Your personality is being winnowed down. Your choices are being misled by the personal interest of a single individual and other cliques within your cabal. You cannot ignore this."

  Cripple didn't respond immediately, so Can Hu pressed on. "The Tarrasque, also, is a planetary-level threat. It cannot be allowed to wander freely across the world. It must be eliminated. The Legacy Empire has specific prevention measures for Tarrasques. Measures that would have seen it neutered magically and then transported far off-world immediately. They would not have waited and allowed the Tarrasque to become an uncontrollable variable due to a foolish attempt to utilize it for their own gain."

  A most rare laugh escaped from Can Hu, and was filled with bitter irony. "Even their own mechanical servants were not controllable variables, after all. I assure you, the Legacy Empire learned from the Penitent Legion’s betrayal at Great London, and it would have applied that lesson to the Tarrasque, had it appeared within Africa. Your Auroral Council, old as it is, should have been wiser much the same. And now it is too late."

  Cripple clenched its single fist, but still it said nothing. Shiv let out a long sigh. He wanted to continue ranting and arguing with the Ascendant, but it was pointless. The mistake was already made, the bed was already shat, and sooner or later, he was going to be digging into the sheets and getting dirty again.

  "When you spot it, you tell me," Shiv said. "I want to know exactly where it is, if it's coming for us, what it's done, everything."

  "You understand that if you decide to intervene, the Ascendants..."

  "I don't understand anything," Shiv said. "I don't know anything about you Ascendants. And I don't think most of you know anything about yourselves anymore, either." The Deathless shook his head. "In fact, we don't need to talk about this anymore. I'll write to Veronica directly. I’ll see what the head clown of your circus has to say. What a fucking mess."

  An awkward silence followed, and hushed whispers were exchanged between the two crafters at the back of the room, terrified by the argument unfolding before them.

  Slowly, Cripple shifted its body. It looked at its hand. Its hand, clenched in a fist, with great effort, released the tension it had built up. "There was a time when I would have simply killed it," Cripple said, sounding absent-minded. "There was a time when I would have struck it dead, damn what my comrades would have said. There was a time…”

  The Ascendant lowered his eye, and the Strongest went from seeming frustrated to downright despondent. "There was a time, yes. A time that has long since passed. I fear you are right. With every exchange, I notice it more. And I fear that even my awareness can do nothing to ameliorate it. I feel… compelled to defend the others… So indifferent to what we…”

  “The decay,” Can Hu said. “It is not something you can fight with will. That which is truly lost inside you cannot be reverted by choice or effort.”

  Adam let out a breath. "You're doing something, Cripple. You're here. You're helping us. You're letting us know about things. It's more than what your so-called companions can muster. When you meet the Starhawk again—”

  “The Starhawk's also going through this," Shiv said, interrupting Adam. "He's just decaying in a positive direction. Kind of." Shiv groaned. "Which I guess is good and all, but still, he's not who he used to be either."

  And a particularly dark thought came to Shiv, then, one that Adam might not like. He hesitated before he voiced it, trying to find the proper way to put it into words. "Adam, do you think that the Starhawk might have his own Veronica too? Someone that… herds him?”

  "What are you saying?" Adam asked, his eyes narrowing with judgment. "Are you accusing my father of manipulating the Starhawk?"

  "No," Shiv said aloud. "Not manipulating. From the brief moments I glimpsed between them, they seem to respect each other. Your father's too faithful to be a conniving shit like Veronica, but… do you think the Starhawk might mainly still be good because of your father? Because his Avatar believes in justice, nobility, and all that other stuff?"

  Adam's mouth opened immediately, but then he closed it, his mind considering Shiv's question.

  Cripple let out a droning hum. "It is a possibility. We use our Avatars as channels for our power, but in time, we also take traits from them or are inspired by them."

  "They might be mortal, but they are changing, and they can choose," Adam finished for him. "They can choose to do something that goes against their character. They can choose to do something that's outside the context of their narrative." And suddenly, he looked at Shiv. "They can choose."

  And nothing needed to be said between them. Roland was an exceptional Town Lord, a near-unparalleled Pathbearer, a warrior, a strategist, someone that belonged in the lore and stories of countless books and propaganda pieces. But he had also succumbed in a few cases.

  One was Shiv. Roland just hasn't been able to decide when it came to the Deathless. He hadn't been able to decide if he wanted to kill the boy who was the fruit of everything foul that befell him, or if he simply wanted to spare him. Yet, in doing so, in his indecision, Roland had selected something that bordered on torture. He'd condemned a child to a life of destitution and ostracization. It wasn't the thing a noble, pure hero might do, but it was, ultimately, human.

  All too human.

  "Might not be a bad thing, but with Uva serving as his current Avatar, you think that might affect the Starhawk too?"

  Adam shook his head. "She couldn't serve as his Avatar alone," he began, "not without her Eldritch patron allowing her to sustain the Starhawk's power."

  "Oh, shit," Shiv muttered. Another uncomfortable silence slid into the room. “We really need to get that slipgate open and functional.”

  "Yeah." Adam breathed. "As fast as humanly possible." He turned around and glared at the crafters before marching over to them. "Merrielmel, Concelhaunt, you tell me exactly what you need, and I will find it delivered. We're doing this as fast as humanly possible. We'll begin testing soon. First, we're opening a pathway to the Tutorial. After that, if you need a larger testing apparatus or another active mana core to draw from, or one that can blend your skills with each other and offer temporary infusions, then you can use my gate."

  "The orcs probably will be willing to offer their expertise as well," Shiv said with a slight hint of discomfort. He looked at Cripple. "Look, I don't really believe that the orcs are going to be nice and kind about this, either. I know what they are, and I know what I am." He paused. "Adam, I'm pretty sure they're going to take advantage of this too. It's not just the Neath. The orcs are going to want to seize the slipgate. Just think about it. It's an easy way to invade any world they want, to jump from place to place with no limits or borders to their slaughter."

  The Gate Lord's shoulder sagged. "Well, it's just another problem we need to find a way to counter." A second later, however, his spine straightened once more. "Wait, wait. We're just thinking in negatives, but if we can activate this slipgate, and we can potentially use this mechanism anywhere, then..." He paused. "Can we use this mechanism anywhere?"

  "It's theoretically possible," Merrielmel stammered.

  Slowly, a smile spread across Adam’s features. "If we can do that, we can find a gate close to where the Tarrasque is, and if we can attune that to the Tutorial or some other primal gate..."