Chapter 10-17 The Shattered Reflection
Wanna know to know how to snuff a Clad?
Well. You wont believe me when I say this to you, consang, but its pretty simple when it comes down to it. Youre not fighting them. You cant fight themnot unless youre another Clad or you got a couple of Knots to lose.
What you do is study them. Learn about them. And after that, engineer the situation to spur a mistake; make em overreach. You know how a well-fed nu-dog cant seem to get enough chow? Or how theres not enough joy in the world to fill the urges of an addict? Imagine that, and apply it to someone seeking absolute power.
Godclads want. They want. And there aint nothing more undoing to a person than want. All too often the ambition of one might run smack-dab into the desires of another.
Again. You and I are not fighting any Godclads. But you sure as shit can find an angle to get two of these half-strands to roll up and bleed it out with each other. Theyre cannibals the same way the old gods were.
The same way ghouls are.
Use their want to break them.
-Quail Tavers, School of the Warrens
10-17
The Shattered Reflection
Mirrorhead was already there by the time Avo piloted the Shadowcrawler out.
Flickering neon splashed down blinking traffic lanes, error codes striking across the gleaming sheen of unnaturally manifested glass. Like a frozen waterfall, the decks overlooking the central fighting pit descended into glass whorls of curving vitrification from what was the food court of the Mall Brawl. The glinting ground offered a mirage of glitching sunrise, while twin curved waves soared overhead cupping the once-exposed midsection of the building into a ravine.
In groups and pockets, the first trickles of Confluxers arrived, shepherded by the lowered barrels of their fellows. Connected to what was left of Mirrorheads network, the loyalists shuttled about the interior with haste, rounding and deploying drones to physically usher the remainder of the Syndicate into supplication.
After the butchery Mirrorhead inflicted, not even threats were needed to inspire action. The ones left obeyed, but their minds were stained with fear. Morose negativity, thick and heavy, emanated from their thoughtstuff even without the full scaffolding of the Nether.
Spreading roots of blood below the first shell of glass, Avo guided his Shadowcrawler to reach the exterior balcony it was assigned, moving as a unit with three squads comprised of thirty enforcers. Unbeknownst to them, the jocks inside the golem were long dead, and strings of blood plucked at the locus, puppeteering it upon the desired path.
Slowly but surely, the festering weight of Avos veins enwreathed the structures below the glass, burrowing its way up as he awaited the perfect time to strike.
Though uncertain as to Mirrorheads plans, Avo knew the man to be rash and foolish: With such an ostentatious display of powerthe two sheer cliffs of glass reaching over two hundred feet into the airit would take but the naked eye and some elevation to spot the anomalous happenings unfolding at Mazzas Junction from another district.
The Guilder was going to do something drastic then. Perhaps he would use his Canons to make portals of these walls of risen glass, using them as gateways to feed his men through in a desperate assault.
Standing tall atop a floating platform of radiant glass, Mirrorhead looked down at the surviving remnants of his forces like a god-blessed king from ages of lore and myth. He was stiller than the transparent dias he stood upon, the wind unable to shiver even the folds of his suit.
But Avo had seen his frayed state and judged him close to the precipice of cognitive collapse.
What happened when you stole away the comfort of absolute control from a narcissist? When you made him think there were enemies living in his walls? When you struck his already frail psyche again and again, with more and more deviations from his desired circumstances?
Fractures. Fractures formed.
And it was with such fractures in mind that Avo found himself cycling certain specific sequences within his Ghostjack. His vicious glee joined the growing hunger of the beast as he prepared his poison. By force or deception, he would lure Mirrorhead down. Down, and in mortal flesh.
Then, blood would sink into glass in hunt of a distinct flavor: The scent of a breaking mind.
Sending roots of blood to scout ahead, Avo shuffled his ontology beneath the cascading decks. Not long ago, he had been here, a participant in a pointless charade under the orders of Mirrorhead. Here was where he broke Rantula. Only fitting he crack Mirrorhead here as well.
Tidy to force symmetrical fates on dog and master both.
Mirrorheads first action of substance was the lifting of a palm. The gesture seemed meaningless until Avo detected the spiking anxieties of a dozen minds as the Twice-Walker drifted beneath the glass upon which they tread. It moved like a leviathan swimming through limpid waters and with its proximity in the real, Avo finally collected a proper estimate of its full size.
From wing to wing it was nearly three times as wide as the Woundshaper, but not nearly as dense and barely above the same height. Perhaps the Heaven of Reflection had the capacity to alter his own volume, but as Avo faced the deeper face of his adversary now, thrill occupied the place of dread. When he first greeted the Twice-Walker, it had pulled him under, toyed with him like a shark would easy prey.
Now, the shark didnt even know he was there, blind to his encroach as he slowly brushed the edges of its waters.
Shifting its shard-like wings, the Twice-Walker surged and rose up along one of the massive walls, the two reflective segments flaring with radiance. Suddenly, a tide of resplendence carved the imperfections away from the surface of the glass. When all flaws were unmade, a veil of mist broke from the surface of the escarpment as the blockade became a new border.
Across from all who were present and the many more set to arrive, the sunshine of Mirrorheads personal island washed over battled rigs and blank faces, unsure of what they were witnessing.
The disruption of the Nether had reached even the Guilders personal sanctuary. Drones lay scattered and downed, leaving the sky clean of traffic. Meanwhile, the golems continued to bob up and down, dormant upon the waters which spilled with each shifting of the tides, rushing down the unnatural edge left by the former glass-formed edifice.
Understanding sparked within Avos mind. +He needs pilots.+ Avo said, relaying the information back to Draus and the others.
They were shifting position as well, moving to take position a few floors above the gymnasium from which Essus and Avo were once delivered into the Syndicate-run circuit.
+Right. Nethers down.+ Draus paused. Suspicion weighed on her end. +Mirrorheads an untrustin fuck though. Aint no way I see him lettin these half-strands play with his toys without a kill-switch and Nether going down bricked his cortex bombs. Dont got a knife hangin over their heads no more. Not sure how things are gonna turn out.+
At her words, his Metamind injected a surprising update into his consciousness.
WARNING: LOCAL NETHER STRUCTURE UNSTABLE - ESTIMATED TIME TO STABILIZATION: 5D 22H 47MIN
Well, at least he had an estimate now. The disruption was more severe than he thought.
+Well, maybe not,+ Chambers suddenly chimed in. +See, all he needs is a couple of people he can rely on stationed in a few of them golems, right? So he can tell someone to shoot the jocks if things go to shit-fuckland. Now, if I were the boss, Id have some kinda glass-thing already placed inside them. There are twenty thirty golems? Uh, some number of golems over twenty. That plus the Nether being down and were talking short-range engagements. Most of them are going to be near-blind so theyll have to be bunched together. So yeah, consangs, I dont see any risk for a big break out here. Just a bunch of scared lacks who dont wanna end up as someone elses Metamind.+
Surprise punctuated Draus mind as she regarded the former enforcer again. +Speakin from experience there?+
+Ehh. Bossman isnt that complicated; you stay alive by staying out of his way and playing stupid. Well. At least thats how it worked before the rotuh, Avo made all that crazy shit go down.+
More people were arriving. The edges of the block were packed now, the war-stricken structure groaning.
So many fragile little lives thickly concentrated along a vertical vectorif Avo thinned the haemokinetic fibers lining the walls of the block further and tore it free in the direction of the Mall Brawl, he wondered how much brighter his Soul would shine.
Conflux, Mirrorhead said. Silence swept through whatever groups still dared to murmur in his presence. I His voice trailed off with a ringing whine. We still have a task.
Draus snorted. +We.Just like his ma: Signing everyone else up for a suicide run that didnt ever need to be.+ A sensation bled over from her. A quiet rage was swelling, its simmering energy channeled through the barrel of her self-control. Essus whimpered as Chambers flinched, realizing this was how she felt before she struck him last time.
Among the four, only Avo stood an indifferent pillar as the boiling waters of her ire rushed past him.
+Keep your finger off the trigger until I take Mirrorhead,+ Avo said.
She scoffed. +Please. I aint some rust. Wont go deviatin from the run for a hit of thrill like some among us.+
He grunted a laugh. She was never going to let that go.
Shifting his Whisper as Mirrorhead paused again, Avo scanned through the gathered crowd. A cloud of confusion and wariness still hung over most of them. Few noticed the slowness in Mirrorheads speech, how he started and stopped as if unsure how to proceed.
Then, in the crowd, Avo spotted a mind remembered from the traumas he lined it with.
Rantula stood an isolated figure hunched in front of a gaggle of techs. Missing her coat, the way she bent in on herself was plain, covering new scars that lined her body and marred her ritualistically inflicted wounds - the symbol of her strength now broken.
Avo found himself pleased. How thoroughly he could devastate a person. A trickle of pity and disgust flowed from Essus, and Avo regarded the father with curiosity. His hate for the Scaarthian was pure and true, even now, but still he thought her prolonged suffering to be wrong. Death would have been kinder to her.
+Soon,+ Avo said, speaking to the father.
Blockcrawler arriving in position, the man shivered and nodded, regarding the ghouls promise with a mix of trepidation and nervousness.
Voice vibrating free from visors upon faces and the floor beneath countless feet, Mirrorhead spoke again. I want I need the willing... the capable among you to step forward. Beyond this reach are golems. Instruments of your final purpose. He paused again, but this time, everyone heard the Godclad swallow.
Heads swiveled and turned. Mongrels of the Warrens thought these people were, they smelled weakness better than most, and the way Mirrorhead was acting confused them, his power standing contrary to his flagging confidence.
And it was with this repeated exposure of weakness that Avo was spurred to his next action. A new thread of blood leaped free from the string he had connected to the golem. Twisting at ankle height to avoid the glass, the trickle darted through a grove of armored legs and swinging boots, lancing fast for Rantula. It struck her like a dagger tied to the end of a rope, and Avo felt his power bite down and suffuse her veins.
REND CAPACITY [WOUNDSHAPER]: 67%
He regarded his Rend again with wariness. Shifting and infusing new structures beneath the skin of the block instilled greater weight for his Hell to bear. But he was close now, and if this was performed right, the miracles of his Heaven would only be part of the equation to Mirrorheads unmaking.
Swallowing a blast of alarm spreading from Rantulas already compromised mind using his Ghostjack, he felt a growl choke off halfway as he curtained her awareness by entwining her waking mind closer with her subconsciousness. Her mind was a tattered hive of wounds; sinking deep took contemptuously little effort.
Reaching out, he gathered haemokinetic mass and flexed his Celerostylus. The world slowed as Avo began planting the seed of Mirrorheads collapse into the Scaarthians mind. Lining her short-term memories with sequences he seized from Mirrorhead while hiding within the mans mind, he redirected the waters of Rantulas thoughtstuff and poisoned her thoughts with a haze of delusion.
Much like how Waltons node had used dreams of madness and incoherence to push Avo into unleashing his traumas, so too was Rantula undone by a feverish compulsion to howl out in pain, the worlds seared into her mind needing to be spoken, needing to be exposed.
Im sorry Im so sorry. The words screeched free from her throat and sent those nearby stumbling back in fright. Releasing much of his blood and letting time resume its rush, Avo heard Mirrorheads voice trail off as his head snapped down, locating Rantula in an instant.
Bidden to speak beyond a will of her own, the words once spoken by a weeping Jhred Greatling to his mother rumbled up her hoarse larynx. Eyes bulging and fingers curled, she screamed the remaining words as she did her best to emulate Mirrorheads voice. I tried. I burned everything I had left. I triedtried so hard. I c-can do it. I can kill him for you. I can still make this hurt.
The moment passed. Rantula whimpered and clutched her head. Around, above, and below, a sea of heads turned to gaze upon the mad effigythat husk of a person they knew as Rantula. For most, befuddlement reigned, unsure why she screamed those words.
But it landed where it needed to. For one, his fists were clenched and shaking. The glass around them was beginning to rattle. A chorus of fear and terror rose as people fled, as exo-boosted enforcers sent their fellows flying over the edge as they leaped, averting themselves as twenty foot long fractals of glass shattered free from the ground.
Gore filled the air, and in the reflection, as blood whipped free from bodies thrown into the air, the Twice-Walker encroached like a surfacing whale. Decks groaned and folded before its weight. Crowds shoved and fought, more falling as they went over the edge.
In seconds, Rantula found herself abandoned again. Isolated on the arena floor. She was once again the very epicenter of attention like her circuit days, though what showered her wasnt glory but loathing.
Beneath her, the Twice-Walker stilled its movements, its form like a giant beneath the glass, waiting to break free.
Mirrorhead vanished, sinking into the glass he stood on. Then, suddenly, using the Twice-Walker as a conduit, Mirrorhead emerged, surfacing from the reflections beneath the Scaarthian.
Ba-bo Rantulas incoherent ramblings were cut off when Mirrorhead struck her. His blow sounded like a whip shattering through a column of air. She snapped out toward the horizon like a pebble flung from a rubber band, tearing through the air like a ragdoll, with Avo unable to keep his blood connected, chasing after her.
At least until a wall of glass rose up before she could sail over the edge. She stopped hard. Behind her, the wall shattered as a jagged shower of blades pierced through her flesh and thenmost unnaturallybit down on her.
A howl of absolute agony bellowed out from her immense lungs. Shivering, Mirrorhead approached her, his footsteps fast and desperate, not noticing the trickle of blood arcing out for her.
Where, Mirrorhead snarled. Around the block, all the glass was beginning to ring, where did you hear that? Speak. Tell me where!
He arrived, seizing Rantulas throat just as Avo injected himself into her.
+Draus,+ he said, joy near maniacal at how things turned out, +get ready.+
+Synced on that,+ she replied, catching the contagion of his excitement.
Pulling Rantula down to face him, Mirrorhead remained ignorant of the blood hyper-accelerating behind the Scaarthians skull, nor how it was beginning to build behind her tongue. A globule of drool spilled free from Rantulas lip as she blinked, mind blanking as to how she even got here.
How long? Mirrorhead hissed. How long have you had her? What are you? Incubi? A Sleeper? What else do you know? Speak? Speak
Heeding his words, Rantula opened her mouth. Just in time for her head burst apart entirely, tendrils of blood lashing out into Mirrorheads reflective depths.
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