Chapter 260: B3: C50: World Shakers, Outsiders, Regressors 2
As Zarian’s journey across the Stone Sea River drew closer to an end, he was forming a question he wanted to pose to his closest companion. The question came from an interesting thought experiment he had while floating in the air on a rare blue-sky day.
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It was mid morning, and the twin suns were visible and bright with no moon-irradiated storms in sight. The crispy, briny, cool air gusted around his half-broken body, which he could barely feel while most of his sense of touch was heavily impaired.
He was floating above a nearly autonomous city that was loosely a part of the Windy Strider Kingdom.
It wasn’t a large city. Not when compared to the more bustling capital cities or city-states. But the city under him was decent enough to support itself, have its own culture, and make use of the island it stood on, which kept the city elevated over the crashing waves of the Stone Sea River.
The unfortunate part was the large crack that nearly split the island in half, which ran down the middle of the city from the north west to the south east. Every structure that had once stood where the crack formed had fallen into the deep gap and the churning water below.
People had died.
Yet, the city kept on with its functions regardless of the deaths.
That was because the primary function of the city was worse than death itself.
Once Zarian finished forming his question, he asked aloud, “What would you do, Para, if you had the power to change a pocket of civilization with a more direct approach?”
“Well, that depends on if I want to make changes in the first place,” Para answered from the threads that held Zarian’s half-broken body together, all over his person.
“Well, let’s say we’ve already affected this city indirectly and there’s enough guilt that makes us want to help. So that’s the foundation for why we want to stop and make a change to help those who remain. So, what would you do?”
“Since I’m convinced by my guilt that I want to benefit others in a pocket civilization, then I would need to know what must be changed. I would probably target the gravest of problems that seem to hurt the most people. Then I will implement structures to promote positive changes, promote more fruitful outcomes, and weed out the least desirable outcomes.”
Zarian nodded along. “Quite logical, I see. Anymore?”
Para continued. “Yes, there must be more. Because it is complex to conduct changes upon a civilization. I will have to be sure my changes can adapt to the lives of the people and serve their needs while pushing toward a more enlightened position for the group.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh.”
“I must also avoid the ostracizing of individuals who can’t help but stray from the group to no fault of their own, as long as they aren’t in the business of hurting others. Though, if they are mainly a harm to themselves, I probably wouldn’t care too much and focus on others who help the group or who special individualism is manageable or a benefit.”
“Oof, brutally rational.”
“I am a personified parasite who thinks herself capable of good but is based on an evil skill. I cannot think myself perfect as I did before I became more personified with my last advancement. So I will not try to be the most virtuous of parasites. I will also be direct and open with the measures I will use to control the populace while I try to better them to the degree that is acceptable to share without causing outright harm.”
Zarian laughed, sounding like a loon with a few screws loose, which might be true. He threw a wrench at Para by playing an antagonistic role in this thought experiment.
“But wouldn’t that be too controlling? Who are you to play goddess, huh, Para? Who are you to decide the lives of people and what’s better for them? Maybe it’s better that they have no changes even if it means they’re suffering in the poo when they can do better, huh? Maybe they want to be poo-poo people and nothing else!”
All the strands holding Zarian together vibrated and hummed. His body jerked and twitched oddly at a few places, almost like a puppet or a malfunctioning golem made of flesh.
Para even used his face to smile, where the muscles of his cheeks were slashed and revealed, coupled with dark red strands from the parasite. The smile stretched monstrously wide in a gory and nightmarish fashion.
“I think most civilizations, regardless of their backgrounds, can agree that being poo-poo people suffering in the poo is a detriment to them. That would need to be rectified, especially if they are being taught and forced to be poo-poo people by nefarious people who most likely enjoy having poo-poo people under them.”
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“Damn those nefarious people.”
“I agree. These nefarious people, or poopers, as we shall call them, do not consider the well-being of the poo-poo people at all. Why would they? The poopers are busy enjoying the luxuries of not being in the poo while pooping on the poo-poo people. Thus, it behooves the poopers to keep the poo-poo people in the poo, even if there could be better ways to live for most people without pooping on the majority.”
Para was on a roll, and Zarian was glad to hear it as she kept explaining her stance.
“So, it’s unlikely for there to be any poo-poo people who prefer to suffer in the poo unless they are being irrational or being forced to be that way. If we can agree on that stance, then I can safely assure you that my intervention as an authoritative goddess would be for the better of the poo-poo people, even if that means I will indeed lead to the suffering of most poopers and a few poo-poo people who remain irrational and can’t move on from being pooped on.”
“Oh yeah?” Zarian piped up in between snickers.
“Very much so, Zarian. I will probably be a monstrous and tyrannical goddess toward the poopers and their poo-poo loyalists, but they are most likely a minority, and I am aiming to better the majority. So, the poopers will and must suffer. They may cry over that, and that is fine. I’m okay ostracizing the poopers and their poo-poo loyalists. Under my reign, their pooping on others or the practice of ensuring the pooping still takes place can be punishable by death depending on the size of their awful pooping.”
It took everything in Zarian’s Willpower and a little more to keep his laughter under control. Still, a few tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.
He appreciated Para’s frankness. The thought experiment would have real-life consequences soon. More so for others than the wizard and parasite.
Para paused as she swept her aura across the city. Zarian was wearing the arcana hat, so it was quite easy for them both to observe the city and its populace with aura.
A combination of free evil +7 and Devourer of Secrets and Serpents helped them build censuses on various social subjects. They compartmentalized all the information into easy thought points they shared in Zarian’s head.
“Ahhh,” Para said. “How interesting. This … is a very cruel city. I dare say it’s more cruel and heinous than Crossdeath.”
“Crossdeath is a stupidly evil place. But it’s also structured and focused on how it conducts evil while maintaining civility that kept it productive and less likely to lead to revolt,” Zarian said. “It’s also a home for evil-aligned creatures while allowing anyone from around the world to do business there. So it’s not as bad as it could’ve been despite its evilness.”
Zarian scratched at a spot under his barbed crown. “But this place is … hm.”
“Horrible,” Para filled in.
Zarian nodded. “A den for slavers, rapists, and the worst of men and women. Evil aligned. Good aligned. It doesn’t matter. It’s so bad it’s almost cartoonish. It plays it up like it’s supposed to be an attraction. Like the most hellish version of Las Vegas and Miami combined.”
Losing some of his mirth, Zarian sighed. “I have to admit … if this is just the start of what the Windy Strider Kingdom offers, I’m probably not leaving this place without causing some harm to the powers that be.”
Para hissed with some dark amusement. “It is ironic, no? This kingdom is the closest to being a place of freedom. Both alignments are allowed here and equally used. Striders aren’t restricted to any one god on either side. And a majority of the people are neutral. Yet … it is quite twisted and wrong. It’s like an inverse reflection of our freedom alignment.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s just how things are in most places. Terrible. Evil regardless of alignments. And not fit for changing.”
The parasite threads woven with Zarian’s half-broken body vibrated. Para released a long and thoughtful hum that sent tingles up Zarian’s spine.
“That doesn’t sound very free of you. Are you really not going to go down there to spread freedom?” Para asked as a mysterious avian cried out somewhere in the background. “I would gladly help, especially now that I’ve spoken my thoughts aloud about playing goddess and helping others who might not even know they need help.”
“Haven’t I spread freedom enough?” Zarian asked. “And I’m almost done with my journey. It’ll be seven days on the dot. Going down there … will take time.”
“Perhaps you have spread enough freedom. And reuniting with our friends is most important. But I don’t think you really want to let this go. And how can you? There are innocent people who have been harmed by our actions down there while also being harmed by real villains. And there’s a Sinfeast temple down there.”
Zarian’s entire body shivered. The parasite threads keeping him together wriggled with more excitement. Most of that activity came from Para’s response to Zarian’s intense feelings.
Even after releasing some tension with Ruvaria, there were some things that made Zarian burn out with irrational rage.
Zarian used aura to check the city again. He found a grand temple devoted to Sinfeast that had survived the crack running through the middle of the city by dozens of feet.
That … needed to be fixed.
The mysterious avian cried out again, having a strange effect on him. He felt something burning inside of his chest.
He balled his hands into strong fists. He looked down upon the horrible city filled with the worst of men and women. These were types who had done so much wrong, so much pooping on the poo-poo people, that there was no redemption for them in Zarian’s eyes.
“Well, I guess it’s time to play god with the mortals,” Zarian said. “And this god says let there be real freedom.”
“Yes, let us show them. And please keep some bodies intact and mostly alive,” Para said with a gleeful hiss. “I like it when they’re alive and screaming when I feast, and a goddess must have her appetite satisfied if she’s going to do important work.”