I was rubbing my eyes now. Despite there being no real need for it. I mean, my body was quite literally incapable of holding on to things like the physical symptoms of stress. Or becoming tired in general.
But I wanted to make sure the old coot knew exactly how I felt about the whole ordeal.
‘Is he trying to backstab me?’ I pondered in the meantime. ‘It certainly feels that way. He gets everything up front and I get everything up front. But he will have the benefit of an entire lifetime of training and empire building to do whatever the (Gnome) he wants. Within the bounds of our contract. While I will get a very limited grace period of safety before he’s free to hunt me down. Even then, the only one who’s forbidden to try and kill me is him. He could have two or three Savant buddies out there waiting for my dumb (Gnome) to pop out so they can tag-team me. And all that is in addition to the connections I already know of. That of his daughter and his pupil-turned-Divine. Not to mention whatever shenanigans he can pull out of his tail-hole thanks to being a System Enforcer.’
Like before, his mind was walled-off to me. Sealed away in lock-step with his own Psy. The energy within him simply didn’t cooperate with me. Just like how the Drake’s remnant had warped the Psy around it.
‘I don’t even know the name of this ability he’s using.’ I thought bitterly. ‘This decision would be much, much easier if I knew a bit more about what was waiting outside. But the fact that I can’t track or predict old monsters like him make things dicey.’
I was more or less sure I could butcher any normal resistance that put in front of me. Sarcophagus Solomon had no trouble doing so after all.
However, Hazimon’s presence upset all that. He could have done all kinds of things in terms of containment measures from me. Up to and including getting his old pupil to flick her fingers and erasing me from existence.
‘Coffin Sully never had to worry about such thing because no one cared much about another Savant running amok. The whole idea that I can help those like me get additional Types changes everything.’
I considered my options further.
“There is still the matter of the cooldown.” I reminded him.
“I am aware.” He responded. Bringing my own status in front of me.
“One time per 15 ability levels per year.” He nodded his silly seahorse head. “The obvious solution would be to increase your ability levels to the point where the effective level reaches 30. You’re already mostly there.”
“Yeah, and I haven’t gotten a single level in Telepath in a while.” I probed. “Though I suppose you think that’s another reason to go for Peak difficulty.”
“Indeed.” He confirmed. “It will give you a much-needed boost to your power through challenge.”
He brought up another screen.
“The main door leads to a world filled with gnomes. As you no doubt surmised through conversations with your friends and your own future-sight. The others have similar challenges. Though it is up to you how many you choose to take on.”
“Savants don’t get sent here.” I pointed out.
“Not usually. But that is due to how… acute our powers are.”
He shrugged and downed another juice.
“There isn’t much sense in sending us there when one needs a balanced set of powers just to survive. All it does is destroy one of the pillars newly-born factions may use to defend themselves without much in the way of gains. That and there is not point for us being sent there if we can’t get more than one Type.”
He lifted the empty glass towards me.
“Hence why this offer should be so enticing. As soon as your levels in [Omniscience] reach 30, you can elevate your friends much further than before. And get those extra Types for yourself to boot.”
He nodded in self-satisfaction.
“All I ask is that you take Randall with you.” His beady eyes showed some kind of emotion then. If only briefly.
“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve rehabilitated a murderer. Or the first time you showed mercy to someone who had done much wrong. I honestly don’t see what the big deal is with this one. You’ve spared the lives of tyrants and dictators and vile misery-merchants peddling poison to children. You’ve changed those who lived to cause suffering and those who did not care who was hurt by their greed. I have observed all that and I have deduced that you really do fancy yourself a force for good. At least when it doesn’t concern gnomes.”
He chuckled.
“Again, can’t really blame you there. Not a lot of people like gnomes. Least of all gnomes themselves. But back to our original point. You have done so much and given so much in order to save those who most people would not bother saving. Why draw the line here? Why stop now when this Randall person is so very much in need of saving?”
‘Because he is also a Savant.’ I thought to myself. ‘Because he abused a power so similar to mine. Because I see in him what I could have become. More importantly…’
I allowed my gaze to land on Randall’s shrivelled, bedraggled, shivering, silent form. The awful smell still emanating from him as he snivelled wordlessly.
‘He is still dangerous. He will remain dangerous as long as he is alive.’
The Projector in the Drake’s memories was able to freeze and an entire subdimension in seconds. It hadn’t been enough to kill the Drake of course, but I wasn’t nearly foolish enough that I didn’t see the potential dangers.
‘Buddha only knows what he’ll be able to do if he ends up in my world. Well… no. There are enough capable people in my world now that they would be able to kill him pretty quickly if he was still as physically strong as a normal human, but not without cost. And that doesn’t cover all the other worlds I have not landed in yet. Also, there is the reality of my power to consider. The Dragon may believe it is unique, and as far as I know, it is. But I am not so great a fool as to believe no one has conjured something similar before. Or that no one will be able to fuse a similar ability in the future. Time is infinite. As is reality and all its mirrors across dimensions. Anything is possible and those who think otherwise are narrow-minded at best.’
High-levelled Projectors would still be unable to live that long normally. Like Telepaths and unlike Enhancers and Shifters. Their normal fleshy bodies would not be able to handle the weight of eons. Unless we factor in Symbiotes. Some of which are even better than Buddy.
‘No one is better for you than me!’ Buddy quipped.
‘I know Buddy. I know.’ I re-assured him. ‘I’m just pondering how easy it would be for someone to get a high-level [Regeneration] on a symbiote or an item.’
‘…. I don’t think it would be as easy as you think Sully….’
‘Not for ordinary people. But I suspect the issue would be much different for Savants.’
I used [Limited Omniscience] right then and confirmed it.
Randall could… if left alive, simply wait until humans were out of the Tutorial and then waltz right over to a nearby faction. Like the Kenari themselves. The Dragon’s own daughter would take a look and wave her hand and riches would sprinkle from the skies like rain.
If he agreed to be an obedient little lapdog, which wasn’t off the table, then he’d get any kind of items that money could buy. In exchange for him being a disposable tool she could throw at her enemies.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I don’t like it.” I told the old Master bluntly. “He’s a threat. Every second he lives is a chance for him to cause more harm.”
Hazimon shrugged.
“You could say the exact same thing about me. Or yourself. Or the Drake. Or beyond that, you could say the same thing about your friends now on Peak difficulty. That Vince and the man you call Thunder Fist. They were dangerous enough to survive that bloodbath the first time around. And they are now even more powerful after you boosted them up. Either one would be more than capable of slaughtering entire planets by themselves without much trouble and there is nothing nascent civilizations could realistically do to stop them. Even if we factor in orbital weapons aiming down.”
“Don’t try that with me.” I snapped. “You know full well that the scale of the danger is different.”
“It is.” He allowed. “But that still doesn’t make him any more dangerous than any other Savant out there. Granted there aren’t that many of us normally, and those who wind up as Telepaths and Projectors don’t typically live too long unless they are truly exceptional or unless they are lucky enough to land in the Tutorial. Yet the few of any Type who do make it are just people in the end. People with vastly different views and vastly different morality. That doesn’t mean they cannot be worked with and reasoned with and used to one’s own devices. This…”
He waved at Randall.
“This child… because that is what he is in the grand scheme of things… has overreached. He has done awful, repugnant things and he has destroyed lives without much care or worry. His own species has branded him a monster. His own supporters have abandoned him. He is here before you, friendless and alone. Does it not tug at your heartstrings even a little?”
“No.” I said truthfully.
That made him pause.
“Don’t you find that even a little hypocritical?” He probed.
“It is undoubtedly hypocritical.” I allowed. “It doesn’t make it less true. I am aware that the same arguments can be said about me. I am aware that I have done even more harm when I was a child and not in control. I am aware that it is very hypocritical. But I changed.”
I began tapping the armrest. Without meaning to this time.
“I had no one to check me. I had no one to stop me. I could have mind-controlled everyone in my world and crowned myself king for all time. I could have given me and mine all the money and all the privileges and all the pleasures one could possibly imagine and no one could have stopped me. No one could have even thought of stopping me. But I held myself back. I… I did it. No one else. I chose to limit myself and I chose to do better. To use my gifts to help people. That is what makes us different.”
“Is it now?” He half-sang.
“How funny that you would bring that up. I know several people who would have happily walked into Randall’s fires than risk being taken over by you. Even if partially and briefly. Even if it was for their own good in the end. The fear of losing oneself often eclipses the fear of losing life and limb.”
He chuckled.
“Come to think of it, the people in your home world were not exactly dominated. But you did expose them to your presence. You did give them a level of joy and enlightenment that they could never have possibly dreamed of. How many have gotten past that bliss so far, I wonder?”
“You won’t lead me on this way.” I interrupted.
He shrugged again.
“Worth a try, I guess.”
He rose.
“I have told you about what is waiting outside however. I have also explained the consequences to you and yours. I could stop it. But I won’t. Because you have the chance to forestall and stop it right now. And because if you chose to help me, you would also be helping yourself and you would be helping to destroy the Seeking Drake. One of the vilest, most evil beings in all of existence.”
He walked over to Randall.
“Furthermore…” He began. Gently stroking Randall’s tangled, filthy matted hair with his clawed fingers.
“There is an obvious solution to all your worries.”
He looked back at me.
“You could change Randall. Permanently. It would be capable for a skilled Telepath in the second Tier. Depending on their own prowess and what combined abilities they managed to obtain. The [Memory] abilities are notoriously difficult to work with, but they are also feared in proportion to that. They strike a certain deep primordial terror into most people. The kind that makes others welcome death with open arms.”
He let go of Randall’s hair and walked over to me.
“If you despise him so much that his death would not upset you, then change him. Erase the person that is Randall and make him someone more like yourself. Someone who would pass your own hypocritical standards for what makes a good person.”
I could see the trap from a mile away.
“You know I am not comfortable with that, but you will make the argument that the greater good would be served. Which is true. Then you will accuse me of falling short of my own exacting standards. Which is also true. Again, you do not need to remind me that my position is shaky and partially governed by emotion rather than pure reason. I am aware of that. I know that my power is great and so I know that I must constantly question myself to make sure I am doing the right thing. I am also aware that no single person should have that much power, but there is nothing for it in this reality we find ourselves in. I do what I can at the moment to make sure people live through the best possible world I can make. But I cannot make everyone happy at the same time without exposing them to my presence and imparting some knowledge. People are too quarrelsome by nature.”
“So, you put you finger on the scales.” Hazimon spoke softly. “As you should. Make no mistake, I am not critiquing you out of some sense of self-righteousness. I firmly believe it is the duty of the strong to make a fairer world for everyone else. Despite the unfairness inherent in sentience and in life in general. That is why we have laws that, in the best-case scenarios, protect certain rights like liberty, freedom of thought, religion, housing, employment and education. One cannot always know what is best. Even your vaunted powers are limited to one dimension and to weaker targets. So, one must employ a degree of moral flexibility. Within reason, of course.”
“Of course.” I said aloud. Now staring at Randall once more.
“And can you tell me with a straight face that you cannot see the possibility of him being reformed? Of him saving countless lives if you put your own emotions aside and…”
He stopped to taste the words.
“Re-educate him?”
“Brainwash.” I interjected. “Call it what it is. Don’t pretend like honeyed words will make this better. I would be brainwashing him utterly. Erasing what makes him, him. His memories. Killing him without killing him. Making him a puppet in a way that even the System could not reverse.”
“Only if you truly believe he is as irredeemable as you say.” The Dragon corrected. “You could still choose to trust that he is a changed man. You could simply take the deal I offer and let him retain his memories. Why, you might even become friends someday. Who knows?”
I searched through Randall’s possible futures. Going over all the ones where he got additional Types from me.
The predictions cut off as soon as he got any degree of real power in Telepath or Shifter. Then later in those scenarios where he levelled Projector or Enhancer to the point of freely manipulating Psy with some unknown ability.
I saw the good he could do, if he was… changed.
I saw the relapses into cruelty. Now much more terrible since he’d gotten a taste of my wrath.
‘He is kinda right.’ I mused again. ‘There is a chance. Without me taking his mind. I told Anezka as much when I had Mittens possess her. It is a small chance, but it is there.’
Was it worth it however?
Could I really gamble with billions upon billions of lives, human or otherwise, on the off chance that Randall would stop being a murderous, unstable piece of (Gnome)?
‘I could.’ I decided. ‘But I won’t.’
I would not even trust myself with all those lives far out in the future. Not fully.
Doing so would too irresponsible. And the likes of me and Randall had too much power for me to start being irresponsible with it.
“I will go to the higher difficulty.” I informed the Dragon. “As will my grandfather and my team in general. I will take them with me so they can improve as well.”
“It is within my power to grant you that.” The old master spoke.
“I will also take Randall and… help him along.” I turned to face the seahorse man. “I will not amend our deal yet however. I wish to see how he acts first. For myself I mean. With my own two eyes.”
‘And the fact that it will give me a little more time to sus out your other intentions will be a welcome relief as well.’ I thought. ‘If I can get to a point where I can read you or see bits and pieces of your future, so much the better. But I don’t think I’ll blindly trust this sudden generosity of yours, Mr. Dragon. Not after you’ve so readily admitted to not being on board with the sharing of Tier 10 abilities.’
The Drake had not been keen of following through with his end of the bargain either, if memory served. Sarcophagus Sully was very lucky that he was but a conjured image in a future-prediction, rather than the real deal.
Otherwise, the Dragon might have been in a really rough spot.
‘And he still might be in a rough spot.’ I mused. ‘If he chooses to double cross me.’
Dolce was writhing in agony.
Shrieking bloody murder as his jaws snapped at the barren stone outside the Warehouse. The needle-like fangs gouging streaks of hardened earth from the smooth walls as if the sediment was little more than sand.
I felt sorry for him. I really did.
Despite his monstrous exterior, with the glowing tentacles and the fangs and the empty-dead eyes, Dolce was little more than a puppy on the inside. It felt wrong to see him in pain.
I felt dirty doing this to him.
Yet there was no other way if I wanted to keep him. He, like all the other monsters in the Labyrinth, would disappear once the instance was over. The Dragon might have agreed that I could keep him and he might have agreed to let me take him to Peak difficulty, but that still meant poor old Dolce would have to contend with the monsters on the other side. Some of which would make him look cute and cuddly by comparison. Only by giving him new powers in the form of enlightenment would he have a chance.
If the process hurt him, then that only meant that my Psy reserves were so large that he was getting a lot out of it.
Much more than any of the people I’d originally boosted in the Warehouse.
Yeah, it hurt. Nothing much I could do about that.
If I forced them to sleep or [Dominated] them to not feel pain, then that would interfere with the process.
The same went for grandpa.
Though he was handling it much better.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stop?” I asked him once more.
The old man grit his teeth. His eyes bloodshot and weeping despite my hand gripping his shoulder and constantly healing him. Keeping his heart steady and beating normally while the blood running through his veins boiled.
His breathing was ragged and weak and quick. Coming in as frail gasps that somehow snuck in through clenched teeth.
“Keep… Going… Don’t…”
His eyeballs rolled up to the back of his skull. And not for the first time either.
“Don’t feel bad Sully.” Mr. Park came over from my right. “I know your grandfather better than most people. I have been in his shoes. It was rough the first time around, yes. But if I had the chance to go through it again, I would want you to go to the point where I almost die. Or perhaps for longer. There is just too much to gain.”
He smacked his lips.
“Oh, but what wouldn’t give for another chance.”
“You will get another chance old man.” Prudence growled from the side. “The cooldown is only a year and I have a feeling our savior here won’t go away anytime soon. We’ll see him again after the end of the Tutorial.”
The quiet part of that sentence: “But I sure hope he stubs his toe many, many times and hopefully get shot a whole bunch in the face.” Went unsaid.
Yeah. The whole forgiveness for what happened over in our home planet and for the whole disciplinary event was taking its time.
Which was fine.
I had foreseen as much already.
I had all the time in the world.
If I didn’t get killed by Hazimon that is.
Grandpa kept writhing. Dolce kept screaming.
They did not look like they were having a good time. And in the meantime, Randall was off to the side. With Dusty and Slab as chaperones to make sure no one snapped his neck like a twig before we could make our way to the next difficulty.
“Wow!” He exclaimed suddenly. “You just flew across the room!”
He let out a stupid half-chortle.
“That’s awesome! You’re like a superhero or something!”
Stellio gave him a withering look. No doubt recalling the future-visions I’d shared of Randall cooking everyone around here till they were crispy bits of bacon.
Gine too looked like she might reach out and stab him at any moment.
A very real danger that the new and improved Randall seemed oblivious to.
“What did you do to him?” Monique asked suddenly. Her face a mask of worry.
“Erased most of his memories after 12. He was kinda alright before that. Then created a pseudo-personality out of the memories prior to that point.” I explained.
“He doesn’t remember anything about the mass killings. Or the monsters in his world. Or the things he did. I have told him about them the usual way, but he’s kinda like a sheltered teen stepping out of his room and seeing the world outside for the first time.”
Monique nodded along.
“And now he’s going to come with us.”
“Yes.” I confirmed.
“To Peak difficulty.” She continued.
“Yes.” I confirmed.
“Where the gnomes tortured your friend Vince and your childhood hero Thunder Fist to the point where they became ghouls.”
“Yes. Look. I know. Okay? I (Gnome)ing know. I don’t like this situation either.”
“But you chose to go along with it anyway.”
I knew full well that the System would be recording these conversations for Hazimon’s viewing pleasure, so I kept my mouth mostly shut.
“It is what it is. What needed to be done.” I answered in turn. “We got the Token to go to Periwig’s homeworld and we got another place to train ourselves up till we’re reasonably strong. That should make you happy.”
“Didn’t you say most species didn’t have anyone that survived the highest difficulty?”
“Yes. But most species didn’t have me to boost a bunch of guys at once. Or to watch their backs and keep them safe.” I countered.
“Even if we exclude everything I’m going to be doing, grandpa is going to come out of this much, much stronger than most of you guys. Save perhaps Dusty. That and we’ll be getting Mittens and Henry and Luigi and my parents and my new step-sister over as well. Perks of being in a negotiating position.”
“How is that going to help?” She asked pointedly.
“My parents and Luigi? Not so much. At first. But I will be boosting the ever living (Gnome) out of them too, so there’s that. Also, Henry might not be the most skilled fighter out there, but he’s got the numbers to kill just about anything in this Instance with ease. Even if all he does is fumble about from fight to fight. Also, we’ll have Vince and Thunder Fist. The former is a very smart, very knowledgeable biology student turned killing machine. The latter is… in my own humble opinion… one of the greatest heroes my world has ever produced. We will not be lacking in heavy hitters, if that is what you were worried about.”
“I’m more worried about being killed after an ambush.” She confessed. “Not all of us are getting the full uber-boost. And I don’t fancy my chances if I’m separated from you or the others. The new difficulty is a series of sub-dimensions after all. What do you suppose will happen if we get split up?”
‘Then you’ll manage.’ I thought with some amusement. Though I did not say the words aloud.
Honestly, Monique might have been feeling a bit self-conscious after those few worlds where she almost fainted due to the environment, but that was a whole bunch of unnecessary worry.
She was fully capable of killing just about anything short of the elite deterrents like Dolce and even then, she only needed some guy to be beat in order to pull of a win.
There were some futures where she died, sure.
But those were the kind of futures where I turned into an (Gnome)hole out of nowhere or those where she ended up laying about and never improving.
“You’ll be fine.” I told her. “Keep working hard and you’ll see that you can adapt faster than you think.”
She looked skeptical, but nodded all the same.
“Okay.” I spoke suddenly. “That’s enough of that.”
I cut off the Psy going to Dolce and grandpa. Leaving them both knocked out as soon as the stressor was taken away.
“Let’s get all our supplies in order before we go.”