Technomancer: Birth of a Goddess

“Hello,” Emily says, ignoring the pain in her mind and trying to focus on the distorted humanoid form before her. “I’d usually go by Emily Coldstone. What do you mean by World’s Chosen?”

“She doesn’t know!” The One Who Watches trills, glee and smugness mixing into a song of frigid spite that scratches against Emily’s mind as an icy white smile forms on the figure's face, a little too high for a human’s mouth. “Does she want to?”

“I did ask, no?”

“Yes, but can she afford it? No deal will be made to our detriment, and no gift shall be given for free.”

Emily goes to respond but pauses, warming her mind with thoughts of an evening by the fire with friends and a touch of heated mana. She rolls the being’s words around on her tongue, never tearing her eyes away from the shifting white grin that seems to stretch and shrink with no pattern, which remains plastered on The Watcher’s face as they shift almost imperceptibly in place, moving in what could just as easily be seen as excitement as it could instability.

“But it wouldn’t be for free,” she finally says, after less than a second of consideration. “Has my return not provided enough entertainment already to warrant knowing the name you choose to call me by?"

The ringing sound that follows nearly brings Emily to her knees. The One Who Watches laughs, their shoulders rising and falling as the space around them quivers in sync, echoing a pleased tone that threatens to tear Emily’s flesh from her bones as her enchanted earrings strain to keep the layered sonic attack out, saving her eardrums from bursting.

“Clever, but not enough. We accept your deal, though it is not in your favour,” they say, growing to twice Emily’s height and sitting down cross-legged as three more sets of arms extend from their sides.

Not in my favour? Could I have asked for more in return for coming down here? I guess I’ll see if I can make the most of that if I need to rewind.

“Thinking of running?” The Watcher says with their unnatural mouth suddenly beside Emily’s ear as they break apart and reform, leaning over, their words laced with death and hunger, almost as excited by the prospect as they were by her attempt to bargain. “I thought better of you/we wouldn’t suggest that.”

Two voices, both the same and not, speak over each other, drawing a growl from Mensacus at the overt threat to his mother.

They can read my mind?

The One Who Watches sits back up straight, turning their eyeless gaze to the mechanical chimaera for a moment and nodding when he doesn’t shrink back and maintains his grip on Emily.

No, they weren’t quite right with running. Maybe they’re reading my intent like Mensacus can skim people’s surface emotions: it would make sense that the ability came from his origin.

“I have no plans to run away from anything,” Emily says with conviction, letting some of her machina slip into her son to protect him as she releases a warning pulse of light. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“So impatient, young one, ‘tis not our fault you were distracted,” they vibrate, shrinking a few inches and sprouting another set of reversed legs from their lower spine as one of their sets of arms folds back into their torso. “You are called the World’s Chosen, for that is what you are, such as I am The One Who Watches, for that is what I am. Our names we choose, but our titles we’re granted. We are in favour of the name you gave us, The Abyss, but I am simply The Watcher, for I cannot claim our entirety.”

Not a separate entity, but not its entirety. Is it the space’s consciousness, or simply one of them?

“That’s not what I asked,” Emily says instead of voicing the questions their answer has spawned. “I asked what you meant by World’s Chosen, not why you called me it.”

The Abyss’ laughter sounds once again, sending shudders through the water around them and waves of pain through their minds.

“Better,” The Watcher says, returning to the same size as Emily and losing another set of arms as they float up to keep their gaze level with hers. “The World’s Chosen is simply the one The World chose.”

Another name is said, but Emily doesn’t hear it, forgetting the moment the words pass through her and only knowing Ulea in their place.

“The one who’ll break our shackles. The one who’ll ascend. We’ve been waiting for you, as She told us to, to judge, aid, or eliminate as we see fit.” The ice in their tone chills Emily to the bones as her breath comes out in a mist, and the dark water around them closes in, pushing harder and harder against her mana. “So, Emily Coldstone, why should I aid you? Why should we give you our blessings? Why shouldn’t we add your bones to ourselves and take back the fragment you stole?”

Blessings? Is this what my progression requirement is referring to, or just a figure of speech?

A flicker of something below draws Emily’s eyes, and she looks down to see a sea of ghostly white; bones of all shapes and sizes in an uncountable quantity sliding over each other and linking together, joining into a single mass of unfathomable death that steals her breath and leaves her feeling smaller than she ever has before.

The burgeoning desire to give up rears its head for a moment as Emily sees herself falling, her metal and collagen joining the mass grave and floating away into obscurity. However, as quickly as the thought arises it’s crushed, burned by the flames of her curiosity and scattered among the ashes of all those who’ve tried to stop her.

“Because if you even try, I’ll boil you till not a drop remains,” she says, weaving a matrix of light, fire, and lightning, forming a net of crackling light that wraps around her and her son, burning away the thin air inside their small bubble of safety and forcing The Watcher’s small figure to disperse. “I stole nothing from you. I simply took a fragment you discarded and nurtured it into something greater. My son is not, and never will be, yours to reclaim. Though I may have been willing to offer a gift as thanks for your part in his birth if you hadn’t tried to threaten me.”

“So, you’ll repay help with kindness,” The One Who Watches whispers, their voice coming from everywhere and nowhere as they continue to fight against Emily’s barrier, losing more and more ground as she pours out mana and uses machina to stoke her fleeting rage, “and threats with violence?”

They seem to hold their breath, going silent as another wave of magical force slams against Emily’s spell, forcing her to grit her teeth, but doesn’t break it.

“Good.” The force actively fighting her vanishes, leaving only the passive pressure from the volume of water and darkness surrounding them. “The one who ascends cannot be weak, lest our efforts be wasted.”

Emily immediately stops trying to spread her mana, reining in her burning spell and allowing The Watcher to reform their avatar.

“So, Emily Coldstone, what are you willing to offer in exchange for our help?”

“What do you desire?” Emily asks in kind. “I’ve never met one like you, and am yet to understand exactly what you are: I know not what you need, nor what I can provide, until I have more information.”

“We are the shadows that inhabit this world’s darkest corners, the deepest points, and the cold hunger that swallows all. We are everywhere and not, we are bound but free. We are the spring that life forms from and the depths that death flows to. I am one, but we are many. I have been here since this world was born, and we will persist long after its end. I desire growth, be we want for nothing.” Words roll over Emily, and The Watcher’s unsettling grin reappears, this time drawn across their stomach. “Take from that what you will and make your offer, Chosen. I have all the time in the world.”

Their avatar dissolves into nothing, leaving Emily and Mensacus in silence to consider their next move.

Shadows, hunger, cold, and deep water. Those are simply the elements that form this space, but the rest… everywhere and not… bound but free…

Mensacus doesn’t interrupt, watching his mother quietly as she considers.

Does The Abyss itself stretch further than The Glade? Maybe. I’ll have to search, likely underwater, to see if I can confirm, but maybe this body is linked to others on different planets, and that’s what they mean? If The Watcher in singular exists only with this world, but The Abyss in plural will live after its end, that would fit, but they could have been referring to the concepts instead, or maybe other linked natural phenomena. They’ve only given me enough to leave me with more questions. Damn. My magical readings are telling me this space contains a single magical signature, despite the many creatures inhabiting it, and despite the ridiculous quantity of mana, none of it is higher in quality than mine, so The Abyss is only a fourth circle threat… Is that its bonds?

“I offer you a promise,” she finally says, speaking into the darkness, certain that The One Who Watches is listening with rapt attention. “Upon receiving your blessings, I will break the shackles of progression on this planet within ten years. If I fail to follow through with this, I will pay you back in whatever way you see fit.”

Off in the distance, deep in the veil of shadows surrounding them, Emily sees an eye of impossible lights open, staring back at her while radiating a deep sense of hunger.

“With your life.”

“So be it.” She nods confidently.

The eye shuts and vanishes, taking with it Emily’s ability to remember its form.

“Lower your defences and let us in, Chosen. We shall do you no harm, for should you succeed, we’ll be pleased, and should you fail, we’ll reclaim your strength to recoup our losses.”

Emily nods and gestures for Mensacus to release her arm. He does without complaint, though Emily feels his cold metal tendril linger a moment longer than necessary before he steps away. She centres her defensive light around him and gives it enough mana to last alone for hours before taking a step away and being swallowed immediately by the dark.

Water coils around her limbs, and she can still faintly feel the defensive spell she has just left, but, despite being a step away, it feels miles from her now, too far for her to reach again even if she wanted to.

Emily relaxes her circles, pausing the conversion of raw mana into light and fire as liquid slips in through her mouth, pouring down to fill her lungs. The sensation feels wrong, as if she should be clawing for breath despite her lack of physical need, but Emily doesn’t even shudder, calmly shutting her eyes and turning her focus inwards.

Her perception stems from her cortex, spreading down her spine and washing through her in an instant before joining the invasive mana starting to fill her before slipping out. The boundary between her body and the surrounding body of water blurs, and she finds herself flitting between fish and monsters, following chaotic currents wherever they take her and surrendering herself to their mercy.

As her mind drifts, she faintly feels her body follow, like a nagging whisper always at the edge of her attention. Her flesh melts, then freezes: her bones crumble, then reform. Her metal servos begin to rust, and the muscles and tendons woven into their fixings decay, leaving nothing but a brittle skeleton behind.

After a time too long to be an eternity and too short for an instant, Emily comes back to herself, choking out a gasping breath she doesn’t need and using a light flex of wind to clear her airways.

¯¯¯¯¯

Chain-Quest completed: The Abyss: Gazes Back

[The Abyss: Gazes Back]

[Rank:] B

[Description:] You’ve taken a risk and taken the plunge, now live to see it through.

Requirements:

-Meet The One Who Watches (Complete)

-Survive (Complete)

Rewards:

-The Abyss’ Blessing

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Progression requirement met: Receive a natural blessing

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

[Status]

[Attributes:] Strength 23 > 28 (47), Dexterity 145 > 150 (161), Agility 110 > 115 (127), Vitality 21 > 26 (39), Intelligence 368 > 373

[Health:] 330/330 > 400/400

[Stamina:] 625/880 > 980/980

[Mana:] 35098/88320 > 89520/89520

[Machina:] 64866/88320 > 89520/89520

_____

System windows flash through her vision, but Emily quickly blinks them away, feeling out the changes herself. Her body appears completely unharmed, despite the utter destruction she felt ravaging it, and her mana flows through her flesh unimpeded, smoother than she’s ever felt it before: as if it were always a part of her, as intrinsic as her blood. She tries to convert raw mana into metal and lightning, and finds that the elements come with barely a thought, easier than ever, yet not quite at the point of subconscious action just yet.

Their blessing helped refine my body! I still need to work on subconscious attribution and casting, but this has pushed forward my efforts to form a defensive barrier by years.

“Thank you,” she finally says, noting down all the changes she can feel from her improved magical circulation to a few boosted affinities aligned with The Abyss.

“We need no thanks, only your action,” The One Who Watches responds, their voice everywhere and nowhere, resonating within her like usual but now missing the former pain from their communication. “The gift has been given and now must come the toil. Return once you can hold true to your word, be that in success or failure, and I will greet you once again. We look forward to our next meeting, and till then I wish you luck, World’s Chosen, though you may not need it.”

Nothing changes in the darkness surrounding her, but Emily can feel The Watcher’s presence vanish, taking the creeping feeling of being watched with them even though she’s still within their body.

She looks around, searching for any sign of her son since her connection to her defensive spell disappeared while receiving the blessing, but finds nothing. Emily strains against the water to take a single step, and in a blink, Mensacus’ curled-up form drives into her chest. He’s ice-cold to the touch, all signs of her warm protections washed away, and if it weren’t for the beating rhythm of his internal generators still firing, she’d think him dead.

Another strained step and cold air, still several degrees warmer than the water, hits her face as they break through the surface of the pool, rising up into the layer of thick darkness separating The Abyss from the waterfalls above. Emily doesn’t question the obvious distortion of space as she pulls Mensacus up and out of the water, wrapping them both in warm winds and lifting them up towards where the metal gangways she formed should be waiting.

However, when they rise above the thick, unending darkness and Emily casts out an orb of light, she instead sees a series of metal cables suspended across the cavern, linking several tunnels with clear pathways cut into the stone walls between them.

“How long were we down there?” she mutters, checking The Clock and confirming that only a few hours should have passed.