Godclads

We live in a world that’s built on the impossible. Anyone who tells you something can’t be done is bullshitting you or trying to stop you.

Tell me what’s more likely? Fire learning to sing or a cold, scared, starving but also tenacious juv learning to survive another day in the Warrens?

Well. I’ve seen fire sing. And it sings pretty fucking good.

Tell me what’s more likely? That falling water. Rain. Rain heals us of our sicknesses. That rain closes our injuries and makes our bodies whole. Or a girl proving the half-strands up there wrong—that she is a genius, that she belongs among the Agnosi because she’s fire and not wick.

Well. Every night, the rain does fall, and the hurt is washed away.

Tell me what’s more fucking likely. That Guilders will finally achieve their so-called utopias. Utopias they’re already building in the city above this city. That we’ll all live under them, glorious and forever. Or maybe, just maybe, you can live your dream first. Defy the odds and rise above the gutters, make it somewhere safe, take for yourself a good and happy life.

Well. The Guilders are trying. So you should too.

Miracles are the bedrock of our world. For all the fucked up misery we were born into, there is nothing impossible now. Nothing. There are just things that are likely and unlikely. Numbers and percentages. But miracles defy the odds all the time. And you don’t need to be a god to perform a miracle, you just need a moment, a chance, the skill, the will, the kit, a crew, and the strength to tell that fear inside you to go fuck itself.

A juv from the gutters can make it. Just like a slave can overthrow their masters. Just like men can shatter gods.

-Quail Tavers, The School of the Warrens

30-18

The Silent Majority

—[The Majority]—

“What?”

Such was the only statement that echoed through the Soulscape of the Majority for a good, long while.

The Fuckbringer was an anticipated threat. The Majority’s Constituents within the Threshold of the Substance spotted its materialization approximately three hours ago. It had emerged from the oscillating patterns of the anomaly itself, and the intelligentsia nested within the Majority theorized it was an entity created from the “Embracement” between the Strix and the High Seraph due to the patterns of Conceptualization and Chronology that composed its observed ontology.

It took some extended observation for them to isolate—oh, gods, please let us come apart; we don’t want to be enmeshed we don’t—and identify the Fuckbringer’s user as Aedon Chambers. A little more scrutiny and a handful of sacrifices fed into the Substance as the Fuckbringer passed through granted the Majority a deeper glimpse at its structure.

Learning copies of Aedon Chambers existed did not surprise, but the fact that whatever was becoming of the Strix and the High Seraph had assigned a twisted Heaven of Love to him was disquieting. Their profile of Aedon Chambers portrayed an extremely traumatized man who nursed his feelings through addiction and adrenaline. The Aedon Chambers tied to the Fuckbringer was a scornful, cruel, and stupid recreation.

The true danger in him lay with his Heaven. The sudden collapse of the rash after the destruction of the Remembrance had been a welcome event. Something the Majority kept suppressed per the commands of their Inner Council as to prevent any societal overreactions in their—IwantIwantIwant—culture.

The collapse of the Nether arrived sooner than expected due to the events at the trial, and the Majority’s mythology was not final; unstable. A backlash—or worse yet, a paradox—would see things grow dire for their Constituents: the Citizens that made up the Ori Republics. It is only due to their Counter Cultural Migrations decree that the Substance couldn’t breach the borders of their districts. They tried to do the same for those of their allies, but alas, their power extended only to those rooted in Ori society, in harmony with their culture.

A democratic republic was an easy thing to poison through unchecked and diluted beliefs, after all.

And so the Majority stood in this place between places, one Heaven forged from the actions, words, beliefs, habits, and lives of every last Citizen under Ori-Thaum. Through the eyes of their Constituents they watched, studying the Fuckbringer’s crossing through the threshold, to brazenly attack a Sovereignty they shared with Stormtree.

A Sovereignty they deemed expendable enough via a vote after a sufficient amount of its population was evacuated. The Electoral Body was curious as to the Fuckbringer’s capabilities, and wanted to see if they could detect a Shard of the Stillborn housed within its Soul. And so an ugly decision was made to see how this alternate of Aedon Chambers might act, what he might do, and the Majority found their cruel patience rewarded as they stole sight of the Infacer’s presence—and modified their efforts.

Breaching Voidwatch’s virtual realm was a difficult feat—nigh impossible until the emergency activation of Ori-Thaum’s Ark and the awakening of the Majority. Even so, their intrusion was limited—more akin to a period pinhole they could peer through due to the incomplete Naturalization of the EGI they are “interfacing” with.

And it was thanks to this intrusion that they gained partial access to the Infacer as well. The rogue EGI had been at war with its ancient kin. This, the Majority could feel across the tapestry, as technology-related patterns twisted and changed. It took some engineering on the part of the Majority to create a situation where the Infacer managed to get one of “their” assets into Threshold—but so far, it seemed that even the ever-inscrutable mastermind of Omnitech remained ignorant of the true game being played.

Such was why the Majority was originally created. To be a truly shapeless and hidden power, masked even to the Nether itself. To be a network of the Ori, for the Ori, and to make all who oppose them an eventual Citizen of the republics.

With everything in place, they studied the Fuckbringer further. Even as certain Constituents flinched at the atrocities committed against their true selves and votes were put forth for intervention, the Majority stayed the course. Every life lost was a tragedy but triumph required sacrifice and intelligence. And with nothing certain, the Inner Council overseeing the Majority’s operations would not see themselves betrayed.

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Nothing could be left to chance. Such was why they allowed what remained of the Sovereignty to be lost. For though the Fuckbringer thought he was infesting the territory, each person he took into his nightmarish form allow the Majority access to it as well. And through the pathborn they gained direct access to the Infacer thereafter.

Already, their offering of lives was reaping incredible benefit, but the arrival of the actual Aedon Chambers infused with a new Heaven of Love and the Shard which the Majority sought was a welcome surprise. A vote was cast—helphimhelphimsavemesaveme—to reveal themselves to him. To try to establish a new alliance with what remained of the Symmetry. That was struck down almost immediately. Another vote came from the Constituents who lived in the [SACRIFICED] territories. They wished for the Majority to aid the Lovebringer in combat.

This was also struck down—godsdamnyouwewereyourpeopleyoufucksyoumotherfuckers—

Then, as Voidwatch launched their Rendbombs and the assault arrived, the Majority conveyed the information, the peculiar set of details about how the missiles were but seconds away from arrival made the Inner Council realize things might be going a bit awry.

What followed, however, was entirely beyond their expectations.

Ori-Thaum had long been a Guild structured on efficiency, coordination, superior intelligence, and deception to overcome the material and metaphysical advantages of their enemies. But even so, when your foe had several Spheres over you, and if the “you” in question was more of an untrained idiot who only became a Godclad at the will of an anomalous monster, then things were far from ideal.

Yet, in the ensuing engagement, Aedon Chambers surprised the Majority time and time again. The first was with the mixed payloads. Localized traumas deployed impacted the Fuckbringer—specifically sequenced to strike at the pathborn’s wounded psyche. Nothing in Chambers’ profile indicated he was an accomplished Necro or even mentally stable enough to delve into his own traumas. But though the Fuckbringer cracked, it did not fully break.

This was when the Majority expected Chambers to flee, his damage dealt. But he didn’t instead, he clung to the people in the Sovereignty. The people that—helovesusheloveshesbetterthanyouyouleftustodie—were surrendered to gain insight into the Fuckbringer. He attached himself to a current unidentified pattern (Love, perhaps?) conjoining Seekers [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], and then held his ground. By all metrics, his defeat should have been swift and brutal.

Instead, he struck at the Fuckbringer with more weapons forged of his mind and tore from the beast of lust the people it captured. How the Fuckbringer was finally shattered, the Majority didn’t full understand. There was something poignant about this “father” Chambers was referencing. An abusive figure, perhaps. Their mem-data was lacking. Scouring the trillions of Constituents fused to the Majority, no useful information resonated regarding Chambers’ history. He grew up in a Highflame-adjacent section of the gutters, and the Uprising paired with the current loss of the Nether made information hard to obtain.

In the end, it was the Fuckbringer that lay broken, and Chambers, with his Heaven of Love fully manifested, drained the thaums that composed his pathborn foe. Confirmation his Stillborn shard was a working one.

The final surprise came as Chambers reached out across New Vultun—Idheim! With his patterns. He talked without suffering the constraints of space, and though he only managed to interface with an estimated billion or so people, the majority of the population responded with alarm.

The Majority’s collective anxiety only worsened as it sensed a powerful presence—something shifting in the Substance itself, reach out for Chambers, causing him to flee.

“What was that? Who was that?”

No answer graced the Majority, but suspicions arose. Veylis and the enigma named Avo were bound as one. This, they felt, heard in the whispering that slipped out from the depths of the Substance, assailed their districts still trapped within.

But that was a secondary problem at present. The true danger lay in what Chambers possessed. This miracle the Lovebringer wielded effectively made Aedon Chambers the closest thing to a full-spectrum metaphysical network over Idheim—a replacement for the Nether.

“He won?”

“How did he win?”

“That was very unlikely. The voters expressed a 19.54% chance of his victory against his alternate.”

These were the words traded within the Majority. Its shape was one sculpted from countless contours and shadows, glass effigies of actual people harvested as Constituents in this reflection of reality. Trillions across the Ori republics were constituted in this mass, their featureless bodies like glass, forming an anthropomorphic titan with a fluid core. There, upon the ocean that composed its heart, a single island gleamed, its flora and terrain seeded heavily with vivianite. The ghost-conducting matter produced a bowl at the epicenter of the island, and upon a rising pillar of variegated hues, an ornate box stood with its lid open to the sky above.

“We must make official contact. We must prevent external influences from affecting our Electoral Body. Motion to make direct contact with the Lovebringer’s user.”

“No! The risk of exposure is too high! And Aedon Chambers is an unpredictable adversary. We must proceed with extreme caution. We cannot reveal ourselves. The facade of the Inner Council must be maintained, and the sanctity of our Ark secured.”

“Motion withdrawn. FUCK YOU! YOU LET me apologize. We are in a volatile state. We do not know why we put forth the motion of contract. Withdrawn.”

“It is understandable. HurtshurtshurtspleaseletmeI do not think it would be wise to show any hint of our presence. But we already have the means to interface with Aedon Chambers as well. Our recently Naturalized asset.”

“Yes.”“Indeed.”

Calling Forth Constituent “Denton” (Naturalized)

At once, a particular figure fused to the foot of the great cultural-shaped giant that was the Authority drew in a sharp breath. She was recently made a Constituent alongside a few thousand Agnosi. Their orientation toward the Ori was reluctant at first, but after some adjustments made to their mental structures, a point of agreement was reached and sufficient cultural synchronicity was achieved.

“Unity is destiny,” Denton said.

“Unity is destiny,” all the other shadows echoed. “Constituent Denton. You have already provided much in service to the republics. It is only through your access that we have begun the first naturalization of a coldtech mind. What wonders it will reveal upon joining our republic will set us forth a million-million years.”

“Thank you. It is a pleasure to serve.”

Clapping and cheering resounded through the Majority. And then, without any forewarning, the sound went silent. “However,” the Majority continued. “We will require your unique capabilities once more. We will be releasing your actual body from our custody. The conditions behind your ‘escape’ have been created to believable satisfaction. You are to make contact with Aedon Chambers and the leading members of the Symmetry, and you are to spread our cultural knowledge among them.”

The shadow of one Valerie Denton, the once crafted spy of Aegis and now truly loyal Citizen of Ori-Thaum, simply nodded. “I will see it done. Peace will only arrive when all share a common truth and a united fate.”

“So it has been said,” the Majority declared. “The Constituent has accepted her duty. Dispatching ego-updates to her original sheathe through her Cognisoft. Voting may begin for any objections or affirmations.”

And at once, slips of paper rained down from the sky, drifted upon the waters, were carried by an unseen wind, and all gradually found their way into the ornate box. Votes were being cast again. Votes for the path ahead. Results were tallied at a rapid pace, the opinions of every Constituent revealed instantly. Everyone voted. Dissent was noted. And ultimately, it took little time at all for a final deliberation to be reached.

“89.21% in favor of dispatching Denton to make contact. Motion passed. Martial Elders of the Constituency. Prepare combat operations. Updating Cognisofts now…”

And upon the immense form of the Majority did several of its shadows tremble. The outlines of people pulsed as subconscious commands were injected through the miracles they had their people accept. Cognisofts that created an imprint of their actions, their knowledge, their role in the culture.

Through such means, many danced as one, and one commanded the many. Such was how Ori-Thaum ensured it was unassailable. Such was why the Inner Council could never truly be assassinated.

Because how could one slay an idea of a collective people?

How could one slay culture itself?