kenoslogs | april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

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april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

THE BEGINNING

Summertime in Springstar has been on its way out, heralding the arrival of fall; winter has likewise given way to spring in Highstorm - at least, according to the calendar. Yet there is an unseasonable bite on the breeze - one growing as frigid as the mood among Meris and Zenites in their cities. Between Alenroux’s occupation and talk of ‘the Blight,’ worries have been on the lips of the citizens with increasing frequency - and with good reason. The reports of plant life dying, of objects crumbling, of people whose bodies are deteriorating are dominating the rumor mills and local papers.

Everything comes to a head early in the second half of Pelu.

After an unusual pocket of commotion in the Seat of the Tribune and the courtyard of Yima’s manor, an urgent announcement is made on behalf of both cities: both Great Trees have been quarantined, and no one is permitted in either location without clearance. New rumors spread of an ‘incident’ that saw those in the immediate vicinity of the Trees rapidly demonstrating symptoms of an illness that was becoming all too easy to identify. It had stricken with frightening speed; not long afterward…

The unrest had spread into the streets, and it wasn’t just about the Blight anymore.

Cetina and Kathova wasted no time in reaching out to the Bearers via Communion to offer them guidance from their leaders and incite them to action.

SPRINGSTAR: THE ROOT OF THE ISSUE

Day by day, changes unfold that render the city increasingly dangerous...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Tree in Heliopolis. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

GROWTH: Contrary to the Blight’s normal behaviors, some people and things around clusters of vines or leaves can experience a burst of vitality, growth, and splendor as if transforming to beyond peak condition. In a normal citizen, this may result in an almost manic level of energy, reckless behaviors, and aggression. In objects, they become more durable and efficient, but dangerously so - for example, a stovetop cooks faster but burns uncontrollably hot. In plant life, this results in overgrowth that can overwhelm and choke nearby flora, objects, or even people. Then, they burn out an hour after exposure and immediately succumb to a dire state of Blighted.

CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

REGRESSION: NPC’s in these areas will appear to freeze in time once a Bearer has breached the pocket’s radius but appear normal from the outside. Time within has halted at the point the pocket manifested ( typically covering an area like a city street or inside a single large building that sees regular use ). Objects can be freely manipulated but will not fall if thrown, etc.
- The pocket cannot be left until the Bearer has achieved their objective. Attempting to exit the way they entered, they’ll run into an unseen barrier that is painful to the touch, a sensation of frigidity that travels to their Shard.
- Their goal will be to locate a past version of themselves hidden from immediate view. This past version of themselves can be from any point in their lives but must be from a moment when they felt extremely vulnerable, isolated, wounded, or fearful.
- Once finding this past version, they will feel the compulsion to either find a way to reassure their past selves somehow or kill them. Whether it is the Bearer themselves who performs these acts or another Bearer in their company does it for them, as long as their past selves are pacified enough ( to player satisfaction ) or dead, they will gain immunity to the pocket and may leave. The immediate area will remain frozen, however, and the past version will be revealed to be made of roots that will shrivel and die.
- Note: Bearers will be able to see other Bearer’s past selves, even after they have been freed. Whether the past reflections are capable of speech while functional is up to player discretion.

HIGHSTORM: THE ROOTS OF CHANGE

The snows continue to fall over the city, feeling brittle against your skin...

ROOTS:

Vine-like roots have begun to thread the streets, creeping upon and over buildings, spreading outward from the Great Tree in Yima’s manor. Over the next two weeks, they will continue to grow in size and become more troublesome, slowly blooming ice-like leaves that radiate a sickly glow.

SACRIFICIAL: [ CW: self-harm ] Where the roots snake and gather throughout the city, NPC’s in several locations are falling victim to the quiet, slow pulse of the flowers and their buds. They will sit and stare at the flowers for hours, unblinkingly, as their body begins to succumb to the Blight. If they are disturbed in any way - a loud noise, an attempt to move their person, etc - they will calmly look up from their worship and crack off a piece of their brittle body before returning to their reverie.

In order to save them, a pair (or more) of Bearers must sneak up on the NPC - one using a pacifying spell given by one of the faction leaders while the other crushes the flower. If the NPC is not pacified before the flower is crushed, they will become hysterical and the Blight will rapidly consume them, causing them to perish. If they are pacified and the flower is not crushed, the spell will wear off within ten seconds with the same result.

CHILL: The temperatures will continue to drop throughout the next two weeks. It will be coldest where vines have clustered and outright dangerously so near where flowers have budded or bloomed in great numbers. This will force some people from their homes.

TIME POCKETS:

In seemingly random parts of the city, areas referred to as ‘time pockets’ have populated. There is no way to identify a time pocket but to stumble into one.

REFLECTIONS: NPC’s in these pockets are moving in surreal blurs, pieces of them moving forward as others move backward, some changing as if time were rapidly passing as others remain frozen still. The Bearers’ surroundings are distorted as if reflecting multiple realities simultaneously.
- Their goal will be to locate a tall standing mirror situated alone in the center of the time pocket’s radius. The Bearer who first touches their reflection ( henceforth called “mirror-Bearer” ) will cause the world inside the pocket to suddenly stop, reflecting a comforting environment they have fond or pleasant associations with. The mirror will be gone.

Something or someone the mirror-Bearer highly values, deeply misses, or sees as imperative to their character, goals, or desires will be present. If they make contact with this object or person, the Time Pocket loops and sends them back to searching for the mirror - but they will have no memory of this occurring. Their partner, however, will recall everything.

Both Bearers will be released if five loops occur without the mirror-Bearer being stopped from causing the loop or if the mirror-Bearer is stopped from reaching their goal for five minutes ( willingly or otherwise ). The longer they refuse to make contact with this object or person, the more tempting and dire the need becomes inside of them.

Once the Bearers are released, the Time Pocket disappears. If they manage to avoid contact with the temptation inside the Pocket, the roots and flowers in this area will be withered and dying, buying the NPC’s and buildings in this location some time. Otherwise, they will be thriving and dangerously blooming.

Note: the mirror will not respond to the non-mirror-Bearer once it has been touched the first time.

ENTREE-TING HELP

The Tree of Life is in danger, and you know it. Both Yima and Cyrus have directed all Bearers who might listen to increase visitation to the Tree and monitor it for signs of the Blight - of its leaves changing color, of any frostbitten bark, of its roots withering.

And then, during a moment in which you find your mind at ease, at rest... you dream, even if dreaming is unnatural for you. You dream of yourself sitting beneath the massive bows of the Tree's breadth, at peace. The perpetual dawn's glow warms your skin in a way that seeps into your bones, leaving you certain you are safe from harm. The Tree reaches out, and though it cannot speak to you in words, you feel it is trying to convey a message: one of urgency. One of plea.

But you cannot understand...

Soon, the branches of the Tree are reaching out to others. You cannot see them, but you know they're there; a spiritual tether connects your Shards together, bringing you all into a place of wordless unity. And once your fellows have been summoned, you know what you are here for.

You feel it rather than see it: some meager, barely-there brush of something cold in the warmth of the island's comfort. The Tree is already infected, and the clock is running down for all of you.

When you wake to yourself, a feeling of dread not entirely your own will chase you, and you will find a single violet leaf in your hand.

MISC NOTES

Bearers start with immunity to the Blight. They will not succumb to the effects of the Blight even if they handle the vines and flowers directly without precautions or care.
The above effects will occur in small clusters and are not yet spread city-wide during phase one. The escalation of frequency characters will come across problematic clusters or Time Pockets will be slow building.
For context, it takes about a month from infection to death or dissolution for the average person or object to succumb to the Blight. By the 21st, it will be three days to a week.
Bearers will be directed by Cetina or Kathova to make efforts to protect the civilians and investigate the manifesting changes around both cities. Both factions are working on their own methods to attempt to counteract the Blight, but neither has produced a failsafe solution.
The roots will remain mostly outdoors, for the most part, these first two weeks.
Tensions will slowly ramp up in Alenroux, and there are checkpoints for any non-PC visitors to screen for signs of infection.
Player characters who die inside the Time Pockets are dead and need their Shards brought to the Tree of Life for revival.
HAVE FUN!! ♥

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hm.

[ She said, a thoughtful noise as she continued to look at the frozen person, her eyes narrowed. ]

It reminds me of the Scorching Isles.

[ She said, with a note that said, very clearly, that she didn't think it was Gray who had done so. She wouldn't doubt the ability for a child to be the one to cause this -- she had been a... precocious and evil child once -- but this was too alike something else, so she only nodded her head toward the rest of the path. ]

Things have been getting worse, and as much as I am sure that Zenith are angry about what we've done in Alenroux, I do not think they are foolish enough to storm this city. Or powerful enough to do this.

[ She turned her attention fully away from the individual. ]

We'll need to find our way out.

[ If Akua thinks so, then Gray doesn't have much reason to think otherwise. She nods, remembering back to the Scorching Isles -- who could forget? Hopefully, it will be a shorter affair this time. No matter how many odd events she experiences, she'll never be completely rid of the nervous chance that this time things won't go back to "normal," that a solution might never be found. With the whole world seemingly put on pause at the moment, she can easily imagine it staying this way until she too becomes one of these people laid motionless, just another piece of the scenery...

But this is no time to get sucked into a depressive spiral. Gray shakes it off with a small shudder and turns her attention back to the landscape in front of them, deathly in its stillness. Briefly, she tries to reach out to someone, anyone, who might not be trapped in here with them. ]

... I can't Commune with anyone I know, so we might be the only ones here. [ Or the only ones unfrozen. ] Um, should we split up so we can explore more quickly?

I do not think that would be wise. We could cover more ground, but...

[ But they may encounter something like they did in the Scorching Isles. What if there was a Zenite lurking within here, or a doppelganger? There were any number of options, and while Akua was a firm believer in "iron sharpens iron", she did not think it would be wise to be staunchly independent when they were the only two within this... sphere of influence. Who was to say that the people frozen were not also shard bearers?

She didn't see any shards on them, but that didn't necessarily mean much. What if it dampened them? Or perhaps if they were hidden? ]

If one of us ends up infected, we could both be trapped indefinitely. No, I think it's wise to--

[ Her head snapped toward the end of the way, where there was a scattered mess of tossed items, but more than that, there was the sound of breathing, harsh, pained. ]

Someone might be that way. Come.

[ Gray catches the sound of troubled breathing as Akua mentions it. A more charitable soul might feel concern that a stranger could be injured and in urgent need of help, but Gray instead shifts to high alert, more anxious about what may have caused the distress. She follows Akua's lead silently, ears perked and sight sharpened for anyone or anything that might be looking to ambush them. At the same time, she calls on her weapon in a manner that defies physics; it seems almost to come from nowhere, a trail of parts that floats from the depths of her cloak to join into an elaborately creepy scythe as tall as she is. This she takes in hand, not brandishing it but settling it over her shoulder, just in case.

She'll leave their initial approach toward the stranger to Akua's discretion, ever one to defer to her elders. Under ordinary circumstances, it's always Gray's instinct to help. Under these specific circumstances, even she knows that nothing should be left to chance. ]

[ Her eye flicked to Gray, to the sight of that odd weapon -- where had it come from? -- but there's little time to worry about that at the moment. Not with the sound of struggle, and --

Her feet are quick, her right hand tensed with a weaving she'd created, ready to launch if there was trouble, though there was nothing to indicate that the magic she'd put together lurked, or was prepped. Instead, she rounded the corner, only to find --

Blood. Blood seeping from a woman's chest. There's a hole where her heart should be, and Akua's fingers lift to touch where her shard is kept -- clutched around it almost -- for the woman, no, she's still a girl here -- has madness in her golden eyes, and her scarlet dress is covered in blood, her hands trying to clutch at it -- and stared right back at Akua, with fury in her face. Her lips peeled back, her eyes wide and scared, and Akua...

Akua could only swallow, her feet stopped on the pavement. She does not dare move forward. No, this was not --

How? Her mind helpfully asked, but her lips trembled, because this had been, what Akua Sahelian could only call her most triumphant, and the most devastating day in her life. ]

[ The sight of a bloody girl with a hole in her chest is a shocking sight by any measure, only superceded by the shock of the girl still being able to stand. Gray would be concerned for her were her face not so full of unrestrainged anger, wild like an animal ambushed.

In a flash, Gray takes in Akua's frozen posture; it compels her to bull forward with her scythe dropped readily into her hands. She places herself between Akua and the bloody girl, stance wide to receive any coming attacks. In situations like these, Gray's already simple brain simplifies even further, funneling all processing power into combat and survival. Though the girl somehow looks a little familiar... ]

Please stay where you are.

[ She says "please," but her tone is unmistakably firm. The bloody girl appears to be grievously injured, but the fact that she's still functioning makes her a dangerous unknown. ]

I -- Don't --

[ Akua's hand had not left her own heart, a shard to match the hole in the girl's heart. She was younger, her face still somewhat softened by her years still unlived -- and though Akua's body was constructed and grown -- the Dread Empress of Praes had made her body match her years. Not the youth of her madness. There were no tears in the girl's eyes, but when her face looked to Gray, she started to move forward, shaky steps that trembled and almost gave out under her.

'Come to finish the job?' she hissed, in a voice that was -- unmistakable. ]

Be careful.

[ Akua said, behind Gray. ] She is vicious and mad. She would destroy you, and drink the blood from her heart, if she thought it would result in her living seconds longer.

Edited 2023-04-25 06:24 (UTC)

[ What a puzzle. Gray can't tell whether the girl was victim or aggressor. She seems to lack the helpless fear of a victim, but her question sounds staunchly aggrieved. More importantly, the girl's voice is the same as Akua's — and Akua seems to know her quite well indeed...

Gray was told to be careful, but frankly she doesn't know how to fight with anything but her full measure. An opponent still walking with a hole in her chest is by no means a normal person, and likely more dead than living. If there's something more magical to be wary of then Gray will keep that in mind, but she won't let it still her hand. Kill or be killed; the rules of combat are simple.

So with Gray's polite request to halt ignored, she swiftly steps forward with a vicious swing of her scythe, much faster than its bulk should allow. If the bleeding girl is willing to to retreat, then perhaps she might avoid the blow — but if she isn't, then Gray won't hesitate to cut her through. ]

[ Akua's heart practically lept into her throat, watching the girl merely stride forward, as if her younger self was nothing -- she wasn't anything, at this stage, too hurt, grieving, and defeated -- and she wondered if her younger self -- her earlier self -- would be willing to retreat. Could she? She had never been one to back down, even in the face of great and terrible loss, or in the face of destruction. She had been raised to indulge in it, enjoy it.

But now, her father had just been killed, and Catherine had reached out and ripped out her heart, and Akua felt a pang of regret. She remembered this day. She remembered the silence that stretched on for an eternity after, of being lonely, of desperately wanting nothing more than to have someone to talk to, and it had stretched on even longer, until Catherine had found use for her, her soul trapped in the Mantle of Woe like it had been.

But Akua Sahelian was not a normal woman. She would not stop Gray, as much as she wished to take herself by the hand, to tell her that it would be okay, because it would never be okay. She had murdered hundreds of thousands of souls. She had unleashed a superweapon like none other, and she had not regretted it far enough, until the very end.

Gray swung with her scythe, and Akua watched, her breath held, as her former self -- the younger version of her -- reached out with a hand, and stopped it with a shield that reflected from her hand, her fingers claw-like as she reached out to grab it. 'I will not be caught so vulnerable a second time!' she hissed, but her hand shook from the force of it, because blood still dripped from the cavern in her chest.

Akua herself held up a hand, and shattered the shield her younger self summoned, and she did not smile, or frown. She only stared at her, this sad and pathetic version of her, lashing out at a world that had given her every luxury, but never one person to care. Not even now. ]

Again.

[ She said, almost an order. ]

[ Oblivious to the drama surrounding the circumstances, Gray is fully tuned into only what's in front of her. It's a shock to find her scythe stopped by what appears to be thin air — though she should expect the unexpected by now. It can only be magic, and formidable if it can be used so swiftly. The danger of it only digs her heels in deeper.

The younger Akua is a mad sight. With the hole in her chest, she shouldn't be standing, let alone fighting back with such vitriol. She's a berserker, closer to undead, and that alone erases any hesitation or pity Gray might otherwise have for her. There's no room to underestimate or sympathize with those that would capably kill Gray first.

All at once, the magic shield halting her blade disappears and Gray doesn't stop to wonder why. Akua's order is a spur that barely needs sticking into Gray's side; her scythe darts back and lunges forward again in a sharp hook, doubly relentless in the face of its previous failure. ]

[ Akua does not look away.

Her gaze though, is intense, as she watched it happen. Gray's scythe sliced through Akua's younger -- original -- body, it's a sick and wet sound that she expects, though not what they get. When the weapon intersected with her body, there's a sound like splintering.

Akua's lips twitch, as the pieces fall into two, and what is left looks like roots, splintered in pieces, though the shape still looks like it could be her. Her lips thin, and her tone is hard, when she says: ]

This is not like the doppelgangers. That was part of the roots.

[ The sensation of cutting through the girl's body isn't what Gray expects, brittle and cracking rather than wet and yielding. Immediately she realizes that deeper magic than expected was at play, that she wasn't fighting any kind of real person after all. Relief courses through her, a slight tremor in her hands as she lowers her scythe. Thank God. Even if she was prepared to cut the girl through out of necessity, Gray still has yet to take the life of a living human. Being prepared to win a fight isn't the same as being prepared to watch a life extinguished by her hand. ]

I... I see. I wonder if they're behind the time stopping as well.

[ It's some kind of answer. She supposes she should be grateful, even if she doesn't know what to do with that information yet. She turns to Akua, hesitating a little. ]

That was you, wasn't it?

It was, yes.

[ She said, her tone was not shaky, but iron hard. Akua knew the moment well, the madness in her eyes had given it away. The moment in which she had lost. Lost more than simply the fight, more than just her life, but the Black Knight had murdered her father, and then his Squire had ripped her heart out, cementing everything that she had spent her entire life building toward. ]

It must have a picture into our minds, to pull that moment, in particular, forward. [ There is a long pause, before: ] It was, I will be frank, the worst day of my life, that it recreated for us.

[ Even worse, clearly, than finding out that her world had been destroyed. ]

[ Akua is the sort of person to be hard on herself, it seems. The steel in her voice makes it clear that she holds little sympathy for her past self — if her disinterest in speaking with the girl wasn't evidence enough.

Gray isn't sure how much she should pry; in her mind, mages are notoriously secretive about both their magecraft and their backgrounds. But the situation demands she satisfy at least some of her curiosity, so she tries prodding with what she hopes is a practical question. ]

Your heart... how did you survive?

I didn't.

[ She said, and looked down at the remains of the tree. ]

The woman who killed me found my phylactery, and trapped my soul in her cloak. She used me toward her own ends, and forced me to use my expertise to further her goals.

[ It makes the woman who captured her sound like a villain.

Which she was, of course, but she was no better -- in fact, she had been worse. ]

This was my punishment, for the act that drove her to rip out my heart.

You were in her cloak...?!

[ Even Gray's exclamations don't sound all that explosive, but the bewilderment is still there. She's familiar with the concept of transferring souls from one vessel to another, but she never would have thought to put a soul in something like a cloak; it's as odd a thought as putting someone in a pair of pants. ]

Did you hurt someone important to her?

[ That seems like the most proportional thing that could have been done, at least to Gray's imagination, which tends toward straightforward. The topic is really treading potentially sensitive territory now, but Akua has been candid enough so far. ]

I threatened him, of course.

[ She said, but her fingers tightened in the cloth of her jacket, wound tight. ]

But no, he was fine. They killed my father, in retaliation.

[ A pause, because, this was not kind to Catherine. There was a reason that they had taken such a hard stance with her, why they had taken someone so precious to her. ]

I did, however, murder hundreds of thousands of her people. [ A beat. ] She had reason.

[ Gray stops. The enormity of that number washes over her. Not hundreds, not thousands, but hundreds of thousands. She has difficulty conceiving of even two hundred people in one place.

It's always been evident that Shard-Bearers come from all walks of life, from extraordinary circumstancews down to the mundane. It wouldn't surprise her if a good handful of them have done truly heinous things, but informed of those heinous things directly, she still manages to be taken off guard. ]

Was it war?

[ She's trying to justify it in some way, to reason how the person in front of her isn't actually just a monster. ]

Hm. [ She says, and her hands found her elbows, arms crossed over her middle, as she admitted: ]

I was certainly trying to start one, at the time.

[ No, see, Gray. She is a monster. Her tone is touched with regret, but... ]

I will not say I was a wholly different person, then. I was younger, but not foolish. I created one of the greatest workings in history, and it was the finest work I have ever created. I did something terrible for little good reason, and it is my weight to bear.

[ Regret, but... one cannot simply atone for such things. She knows. She expects the girl to run. ]

[ In Gray's world, there were spellcasters, and then there were mages. She had been thinking of Akua as a spellcaster, a person who used magecraft merely as a practical tool, but maybe Gray should have been thinking of her as a mage, a person who willingly casts aside their humanity to devote their being to their craft at all costs.

Gray quietly recalibrates. While some of her favorite people are mages, they're a different breed of being that can't be relied upon for things like kindness or selflessness. It's true that Akua seems to feel a little bit of — remorse, maybe? But she did also still call her mass murder "one of the greatest workings in history," so.

Gray at least takes all of this in relative stride, a slightly concerned angling of her brow the only change to her demeanor. She's really met too many awful people in her short lifetime. ]

Um, did your "work" happen to involve magic?

[ One can take pride in the brilliance of their work, and acknowledge that it was also a heinous crime, gray! ]

Of course. [ She said, frankly. ]

I am one of the finest sorcerers in all of Praes, second only to a peer like none other.

[ To be fair, her peer had become a Named called the Apprentice when he was like. 8? Reality literally accommodated his brilliance when he'd been very young. She'd been there when it happened. He was literally a prodigy ~~and soon to be god~~. ]

Why do you ask?

[ Not a mage but a sorceror. The distinction holds meaning to Gray — namely in the sense that a sorceror is much scarier and more capable of obliterating her on a whim. There are a lot of fearsome people in Kenos, but Gray's education has been such that she possesses a healthy and respectful fear of magic and Mystery.

Probably better to stay on Akua's good side if she's as powerful as she says. Not that Gray is the sort to go around antagonizing people either. ]

You reminded me of the mages of my world. [ For better or worse. ] I was thinking it's a little comforting that some things are the same no matter where I go.

[ But also, still: terrifying. ]

May I ask what your "greatest working" involved...?

[ That was a loaded question.

Akua looked down at her hands, as there is both shame, and pride in her face. Anguish, for the hundreds of thousands of souls that she had taken in her madness, and pride, for doing something that nobody had done before. ]

In my world, there is a cost to the calculation of a working. [ She starts. ] This is the amount of power that is lost, and must be calculated, as it is always present. The sorcery I use requires it. This is called Keter's Due, as the man who invented the... metric of sorcery that I use founded the land called Keter, and resides there still.

[ You know, being a zombie king and all. ]

I circumvented this cost. I also may have created a weapon that could eternally summon gates to the hells using the sacrifice of souls from a land that bound them to their city's power.

[ The Deoraithe were known for having the best archers in the land, and near impossible to kill. The secret was that every person from there, upon death, offered their soul to the collective city's power, and the soul's guardianship of the city. Akua had taken their souls, and used them to power her working. ]

I also sacrificed the souls of the city of Liesse, to craft it into a floating city. [ A beat. ]

Many have called me the Doom of Liesse, for this reason.

[ Her creation had been powerful. Unthinkable. Nobody had ever circumvented Keter's Due before her. Even Dread Empress Triumphant -- may she never return -- had never achieved this.

And yet, the price that it cost, had been too high. Even for Akua, with time. ]

[ As she listens, Gray falls comfortably into the role of a student listening to a lecture, brief though it may be. As always, some things go right over her head, but she dutifully grasps what scraps she can. At least she's familiar with the concept of trying to beat the system and gain boundless magic. That too was an obsession of the mages of her world.

Yet her mages were restricted by their need for secrecy. Were they not, Gray could easily have seen them attempting "workings" like Akua's. The thought sends a shiver through her — especially with the thought that no such restrictions exist in Kenos. However, it seems like Akua has some regret about what she did, even if only to an extent. That surprises Gray; the mages who would have gone that far had long discarded their humanity to the last speck. Considering the punishment that Akua was dealt afterward, Gray wonders how she remains sane at all. ]

And now? Are you still trying to achieve your next great working?

I am nothing, if not often looking toward the future, and what new grand workings I can create.

[ She says, but there is hesitation in her voice. Thought. ]

I do not think it would come with the same price, if I found a new principle again. I learned that there is a cost, to stepping beyond that precipice, of taking so many lives.

It is the line even Villains like me should not cross. The step too far, from Villainy and into self-centered indulgence. It does not serve Below, and it certainly circumvents the power possible from the world itself.

[ She can handle a little human sacrifice but draws the line at genocide. ]

So if you are worried I would do so for Meridian, you have little to worry about. That mad a working is something that I cannot do again.

[ Would not, really. ]

april event, phase one: seeds of unrest 🌱

ROOTS:

TIME POCKETS:

ROOTS:

TIME POCKETS:

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