((Defense:
7, 7, 6, 6, 5, 4 & 1
*Won't be able to resist, floats the 7s))

"Can't give you that," Set Beckons mumbles, "Though I appreciate your, concern... for my... time." He drools some blood out on the floor, "I don't know... where they are.  They moved them... a few weeks ago.  Somewhere towards the core."

He tries to keep his head upright.  He fails.  It's the only part of his body not suspended by chains.

"If I... answer questions nicely... will you... answer mine?"

"Depends on the questions. You seem reasonable so I'm sure you understand the situation dictates I won't be giving any strategic or tactical information."

He steps closer to the hanging half-corpse, reaching to grasp his hair (or head, should he lack hair) and lifting it - not altogether gently, but not unnecessarily harshly either - to maintain eye contact.

"Their last known locations, then. Information about this Immaculate Order, or the Deathlords and their plans, or your fellow Abyssals. Then it's your turn."

"Reason... hah hah..."  He coughs as his head as lifted up, "I don't know your coordinate system, because ours is... new.  How about... where they're heading?  Towards the.... core of the... galaxy.  From here, eight... nine light years to the closest, the Leningrad.  Russians, of course.  Always the Russians..." He winces, "The Immaculates.  I don't know... who came up with them.  Maybe they... did.  Always death, lurking in us... young Dragon-Blooded.  Raised up right after the... after the Reconquest.  They... barely needed any... any help.  Humans are... are good at rationalizing... making a religion from nothing.  Basic... basic human need.  Acceptable?"

Daniel keeps a distinct stonewall expression as he listens, his mouth a taut line and eyes slightly narrowed. Then he nods.

"In times of insanity the madman is king. One more thing. What do they intend to do at the core?"

After Set Beckons' answer he lets go of his head.

"Right. Ask your question."

"Safety." He says simply, "Too far... the... the raid on the Pyongyang... spooked them.  Close to the... to the Neverborn, too far... for you to reach safely."

From what little Daniel knows about the truth path of the Last Refuge, it's been steadily moving away from the Core.  There's an awful lot of black holes near the galaxy core, after all... it would take a significant expeditionary force to get that close.  Hell, it might take half the fleet.

"Yes.  Who... cares for... the Dead?  On the... the Egg?"

Daniel tilts his head.

"Depends how you define care. The gods continue the cycle as on Earth, and those left behind keep the fallen in their hearts. Why?"

"You're missing some."  He says flatly, unable to let his head drop in Lucifer's grip.  "There's... always some.  Fall through the cracks.  The... the gods can't... always take them.  Some have... too much will.  Some... just shades.  Some... still have work... to do.  It's easy to... evade the gods.  Especially when they're... hmm... skating."

Daniel tilts his head. "Yes, the system is not perfect. What of it? And what do you mean by 'skating'?"

"Laziness,"  He tries to shrug and fails miserably, "We know what you're doing.  We've... heh... made a ... mistake."  He coughs, "Should have... just let you go.  In peace.  With... our blessings... even.  A... benediction.  But... Neverborn are greedy... sometimes can't see... the whole picture."

He looks Daniel straight in the eye.

"Breaking... into another... another time.  Through... through the Wyld.  The last Wyld... pocket.  If it exists.  Neverborn... won't say.  Probably... probably does, your hope is... correct."  He coughs up a bit of vile black phlegm, "Have you... ever wondered... why it hasn't happened yet?  If... it is possible... why not more... escapees?  Probably because... for once there is a unity... all that Florentine's... fault.  Or Malfeas."

The Abyssal cracks a small smile.

"But... I think the real reason... is nobody is willing... to admit the truth.  Not us.  Nor you.  Only... me.  And... only when... during... our holy fight.  An epiphany... like lightning... black and reversed."

Lucifer's eyes narrow as he gauges how much truth there was behind this madman's ravings.

"Open my eyes, then. What uncomfortable truth are we all blind to?"

"You will... need us." He tells Lucifer, "That... it's not possible... to break skin... without killing... a few cells.  The skin... between universes... the Fair Folk are... viruses.  Know the... know the way through.  What if... you make it to the barrier... and your Fair Folk... can slip through... but you can't?  Would she... stay?


"But humans... gods... Exalts... the skin protects... against them.  Stops conquering kings.  But just one group... can't.  The Celestials and Dragon-Blooded... bring order, adaptability,... fate, primal forces.  The Infernals... chaos and... defilement.  One imposes... on the barrier.  The other... weakens the barrier.  But one needed to... needed to finally make... the cut... that kills the barrier.  Us."  He smiles sickly at Lucifer.  "A... five or more... key... combination lock.  Foundation of... the universe... to keep things stable.  No way... all of us..." He starts to fade out but snaps back into place, "... and the ghosts.  The ghosts.  You... realize.  You are... you will... inoculate a new universe... with death.  The death... of this universe.  Why we should have... let you do it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:18, Mon 26 Mar 2018.

"You're implying entropy is native to our universe? That it needs to be introduced elsewhere? Never took the Neverborn to be so limited."

His gaze shifts focus from the Abyssal's eyes to nowhere in particular as he processes his claim.

"The Fair Folk might. She might not. No way to be sure until we're there. But I see your vision. Tell me then, Set Beckons: will you be the scalpel between realities? You realize yourself the Neverborn won't sanction your newfound purpose, so we the Living are the only ones who can realize it."

"No... entropy... is never limited." He shakes his head, barely, "But... in other places... there is balance.  We could... you could... hasten the end.  Speed up... the process.  Enemies, fully formed... in a world... unprepared for them."

The eye that looks at Lucifer is neither mad nor is it sane.  There's something different behind that eye:  purpose, or prophecy, or chaos.

"I will... cut.  The storm... that blows... across the dunes... may also redirect... the river... that fertilizes... new soil... and turns the old soil... sand.  In this... the death... is holy... and the Neverborn... may not forgive... but I must transcend... mere... mindless... aggression."

Enemies, fully formed - but allies as well. In a universe where entropy is not yet spiralling out of control... There would be death, suffering and chaos, but there would also be hope.

"I believe that death, like corruption, like suffering, like injustice and sin are all necessary for the existence of life, redemption, transcendence, justice and virtue. So come, Set Beckons, and be the dark seed in this new beginning. We will see if you will take root or be weeded out in the new soil."

He turns for the door but stops near the threshold.

"You have chosen to forsake the explicit will of the Neverborn for your own transcendent vision of entropy. Tell me - is such a thing possible for others serving the Void? Is it the spark of life flickering in you that lets you do this, or can the footsoldiers of the Dead be made to change their course like you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:23, Tue 27 Mar 2018.

"Redemption implies... what you are... is a sin already... instead of... the holy purpose." Set Beckons retorts as loudly as he can.  Perhaps he misunderstood. "Both are sides... of the same coin..."

He listens.  His eyes flicker.

"... Maybe... maybe not... some are selfish... with the gift... of death.  Some are... too profligate... Yama exists... because he hates... instead of truly loves.  His own mother... dying of cancer... could be set free... with a wave of his hand... he would... let her suffer... pointlessly.  Even... the Neverborn... are not quite... that cruel."

He looks troubled.

"They... claim... I was... drug addict... did the worst... for the worst things... who knows... what the others were.  But drugs... do not last long... for people like us.  Perhaps... the Neverborn... select those... who would not differ... and so... they suffer... for their lack... of vision.

My course... is unchanged.  Just... my course... now follows... deeper channels... than before.  We will... one day... most likely... clash again.  But it... SHOULD be that way."

”The things I mentioned are pairs. Sides of a coin. Redemption is the flipside of corruption; just as you can be led astray from the light you can still find it in the darkest corners. One cannot exist without the other.”

He looks over his shoulder.

”So Yama is the quintessential mad scientist, consumed by the riddles of life and death as everything around him suffers. Is his mother still alive, then? Tell me of her. What’s her name?”

His gaze focuses on the suspended Abyssal’s.

”I hold no illusions about being allies. Face me again when you will. Perhaps I can beat another epiphany into you.”

"Perhaps..."  He tries to shrug,  "His mother... is no longer... alive.  Nothing... can be used... to help him.  Or... used against him.  He has... cut himself off... from life.  From death.  From holiness... from corruption.  He is... null... nothing... and in that... he has found power... where there should be... none.  He should... frighten... the Neverborn... because he is more... like them... than they are.  He has... transcended... the need... for a course."

"Suitable for the foremost Abyssal to be the ultimate nihilist, I suppose. Fitting that he evokes no strong feelings in me either, then. He is our arch enemy who I would take down at any cost, but hatred, pity or vengeance would be lost on him."

He turns back toward the prisoner.

"You were a junkie? Back on Earth, or a prison ship?"

"Yes... ketamine.  Before... and slightly after.  To... help me forget... life in Chicago... and the Black Ships.  I did... so much for it... though... the Black Exaltation... does not suffer... addictions.  Not even... psychological.  Can you... imagine what it is... like."  He cracks a small smile, "... To have no control... to be so dependent... and then sudden vibrancy... and manic strength... after so long.  In a way... the Black Exaltation... is a permanent drug."

Daniel listens, developing a sneer.

"Power is always intoxicating. You say the Black Exaltation stripped you of addiction but in truth, you must realize nothing truly changed and you've still been spiraling the same accursed path. Lacking control, doing heinous deeds for your suppliers. Only now your judgment is clouded not by the next fix but the whispers of the Neverborn, and the ones suffering for your choices are not just you and those around you, but all of the Living. The only things that have changed are the nature of your powerlessness and the scope of the damage you're causing."

He crosses his arms, eyes full of contempt but also, as a drop in an ocean of bile, a genuine desire to redeem.

"Perhaps you should consider this as the painful start of rehab. The accursed soulsteel you wore is gone, and in its absence you may yet find the spark to well and truly break the cycle you're locked in. To stop being a slave and actually change your course."

((Discover condition: Flowed 43 +15 +10 = 68 ))
This message was last edited by the player at 19:59, Sat 31 Mar 2018.

((Defense vs Discovery:
9, 6, 6, 5, 5, 4 & 1
*Defense 26 + Wu Wei 10 + AB 5 = 41, takes Discovery:  a minor Influence or a trivial Curse.))

"Are you... any different...?  What... is an Exaltation... if not... divine ketamine... celestial cocaine... ethereal ecstasy?"  Set Beckons retorts, but the spirit doesn't seem to be in him.  "If you think... the soulsteel caused this... then you're... mistaken.  It was only... within the compound... that I designed... it.  To fight... you.  An... effort, but... not a... successful one."

He doesn't have the strength to keep his head from anything more than a droop. "I... know what must be done... and you need me... to do it."

((Minor Water Influence: Death of Dependence. Distanced from the ubiquitous presence of death and the Void, Set Beckons is drawn to end the spiral of atrocities for his suppliers and carve his own path - maybe even rediscover his humanity in the process. Entanglement bonus when cutting himself off from the Neverborn and finding more wholesome pillars to base his life on.))

"That's the thing. To an addict, drugs are the objective, the end result, the reward. That is a corruption of the purpose of medicine: to heal, to bolster, to mend an imbalance to let you accomplish objectives that actually matter. The addict fills a void of purpose with drugs, making what is supposed to be a mere aid into a mockery of purpose in itself. Perhaps we're not different in that both of us are doing what we did before Exaltation; the difference is you're doing it for yourself and I for the betterment of the Living."

He glances around the room, awash in the Abyssal's blood.

"Then the armor was a desperate gambit and the corruption lies deeper. You will have plenty of time to root it out. Be a mere tool if you will, but I'd rather have a man holding the reins of his own destiny."

((Dunzo))

"Then I will look forward to seeing your benevolent tyranny." The Abyssal murmurs before falling unconscious- if his statement is either sarcastic or genuine, it's lost to the void of unconsciousness.

Daniel spends a moment pondering with a deep frown after Set Beckons loses his consciousness. Whether or not he was going to break the cycle of dependence, he'd made a legitimate case for his usefulness - and as that meant he would be spending more than a while with the Living, treating him with some respect could be the better route. Maybe, just maybe, he could be brought back to the fold.

Checking the time, he decides to return to Magdeldrigal's counsel sooner rather than later. He needed to let her know Set Beckons had been co-operative, share the agreement made, and... Maybe ask for a bit of advice regarding Sondok. That was something Magdeldrigal should be happy to hear, or not.

The Captain's quarters do not seem as... peaceful... now that Lucifer returns to them.  Maybe it's because the Greek background is night.  The dark background shows flames dancing in temples from far away, making it unclear if they're burning or if they're performing some strange pagan rites.  The Captain sits at her harp, strumming away and reaching over quickly to flick her hands through a sheaf of paper.

"Back very quickly, Daniel,"  She observes, "How can I help you?  No chance you can just, round up and kill all the bureaucrats for me?"