Technomancer: Birth of a Goddess

The cosmic clouds looming above vanish like a lie, leaving a perfectly clear sky with a single burning sun sitting in the centre.

"Whoa," Emily mutters, scanning through the scrolling system windows in the blink of an eye as she takes in the fundamental change that just happened at the core of her being.

Unlike all of her previous ascensions, the leap from fourth to fifth circle felt more like her initial awakening, shedding her imperfections and stepping closer to something more. Her raw strength and vitality, which had remained at a standstill for several years, have leapt forward, joined by the health and stamina values linked to them, crossing past the superhuman limit and leaving her feeling capable of taking on the world with her fists alone.

The changes that her cortex have undergone are immense, despite being disheartening in some respects, thanks to her years of healing, since taking a concentrated draught of salvianross, which has now been undone. Her sixteen cores tear through the rapid processing of her changes, with two hundred and fifty-six threads to share the burden, flexing and unflexing her muscles to judge her new strength while redesigning dozens of spells to try to bring them up to her new par. A few threads reach into her Dimensional Factory with tendrils of spatial mana, feeling out the changed space that's now large enough to hold Elisime with a little room to spare.

Harriet hums through her bones in excitement, twining themselves with several of Emily's threads to smooth their communication as they ask to test their new combined power. She obliges her familiar's request, drawing on their lightning connection under the stunned gazes of their audience, still silenced by the overwhelming pressure radiating from Emily's relatively small frame.

The sky remains clear, but a storm emerges as Emily dissolves into charge, retaining her humanoid form but perfectly synchronising with her elemental partner. They raise a single crackling hand, pointing it away from the gathered soldiers and mercenaries, and pour out a flood of mana without any intent other than to let it run wild.

A colossal bolt charges forward, splitting and tearing through the sky while dipping into the sea, searing arcing fractals into the retinas of all watching as the air burns and the water boils. The bolt stretches to the horizon, noticeably lowering the surface of the ocean in its wake and causing tumultuous waves to crash against each other as more water rushes in to fill the empty space.

Had an entire city stood in the bolt's path, it would now be nothing but ash.

Emily resolidifies and turns her attention to the still-present whirlpool below her, confirming with a glance that not a trace of the dungeon entrance remains. However, her hyper-sensitive magical senses detect an echo of The Path still present, restarting the slow process of gathering the energy to reform.

It will open again in… a hundred years at this rate. How fascinating. I wonder if all worlds retain a mark of the event that broke their Mortal Barrier.

"Congratulations," Mensacus says in awe, as he carries the rest of their strange family over to greet their newly risen leader, leaving the stunned New Denntimo mages behind, as not even Old Man Silver will approach, still overcome by his shock at the show of power.

"Thank you," Emily responds, a small, satisfied smile curling her lips.

***

Upon returning to her factory in the Modo desert, Emily checks the base's systems to confirm their stint in The Path of Ascension lasted exactly one year. She checks through the Universal Transmitter's logs to search for any signs of successful contact in her absence, and finds nothing notable except a spike in activity that coincides with her recent ascension.

The lack of contact doesn't surprise her, a nagging sensation that she recognises as her precognitive instincts telling her that it will change soon, so Emily turns her focus to other matters.

"I… I need to leave for a bit," Pod tells her a few days later, as she's halfway through assembling a large electromagnetic artillery array in one of the subterranean chambers buried just beneath the desert surface.

"Where to?" she asks without looking away from her work, practically feeling the discomfort radiating from her apprentice as he fidgets in place.

"Well, since the dungeon's done now and we'll be leaving the moment we make contact with someone off planet… I need to say goodbye to my parents."

Emily turns her head to him with a raised, amused brow, her hands still moving without hesitation.

"Are you asking for permission to leave, or for a healing potion to fix you up once your mother bites your head off?"

"Ha ha, very funny," he responds dryly, though some of the tension slips from his shoulders. "She won't be happy, especially since I haven't visited since being back in Modo, but she won't put up a fuss… too much."

"You need someone to come as moral support? Or for protection," she adds with a smirk.

"Nah, I think I need to do this alone. Though, do you have a way of letting me reassure her I'm still alive off in the cosmos?"

"Not on hand, but I'm sure Mensacus can create something linked to your lifeforce. Are you sure, though? If something does happen, she'll be devastated with no way of finding out how you went."

Pod considers for a moment, taking a deep breath and releasing it as the rest of his nervous shifting stills.

"Yeah. I think I'd rather she knew."

"Okay." Emily nods, turning back to her work and pinging her son a message through the base's Logic Core. "He'll have something ready for you before we head back to The Abyss. Wait till we're ready, then take a Cutter and as much time as you need. I'll send you a message if we make contact."

"Thanks."

***

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

A week later, Mensacus hands Pod a small artefact carved from bone, and covered in small engravings, that resembles a hand-sized person, telling him to add a few drops of blood to bind it to himself before giving it to his mother. Sending Pod off, Emily then Teleports herself and her son into the centre of The Glade, leaving Silica and Ivor behind, before zeroing in on the coordinates of the massive chamber above The Abyss and tearing a passage through the thick mana resisting her spatial movement with relative ease.

"Hello again, World's Chosen. You kept your word admirably," The One Who Watches says, greeting them the moment they plunge into The Abyss' cold waters.

Emily can immediately sense a change in the space. Despite her recent ascension, she still feels a sense of pressure closing in around her, and the mana density in the water is rising slowly but steadily, quickly approaching the bounds of fifth circle.

"That I did, Watcher," Emily speaks into the void, not seeing any sign of The Abyss's humanoid avatar. "Your blessing was instrumental in breaking The Mortal Barrier, and I've returned as you asked."

"Yes/yes/yes, I had intended to thank you with a reward for your efforts, depending on how quickly you returned, but I have a better idea now. You brought your child for a reason, no?"

"He has his own business with you. I had assumed you'd made another deal, considering he told me not to worry about it." Emily turns her scrutinising gaze to her silent son floating at her side, watching him refuse to meet her eyes while glaring out into the darkness.

"You've made your decision then, Scion?"

"I am my mother's son," Mensacus hisses resolutely.

"So be it," The Watcher responds, haunting laughter echoing through the water with their words. "In that case, we shall provide your child with a trial to claim himself and a fragment of our essence."

In a blink, Mensacus vanishes from her side, and Emily feels a cold thread of mana tie itself around her left wrist, leaving a dark marking on her metal skin.

"He shall be returned to you upon his success or failure. It was a pleasure to meet you, and good luck on your journey. You will need it."

***

Emily returns to her Modo base alone only a day after leaving, expecting to wait months, if not years, to see her son again, but he reappears at her side only a week later.

"That was fast," she mutters, scanning him for injuries and finding none before looking down at the pulsing black heart gripped in his tentacles, leaking mana that feels near-identical to his malice but a step above: similar to the elemental essences she's consumed.

"How long was I gone?" Mensacus asks, holding out the inky heart for her to inspect.

"A week. How long were you there?"

"Two years."

"Interesting. It's the reverse of our first trip down to meet The Watcher… Do you think you can consume this safely? With this mana distribution, it should provide the same effects as essences of death and mind, though the presence of space worries me a little."

"Not alone. They suggested I ask for your help in replicating your pocket dimension."

"Ah, yes." A small, excited grin curls Emily's lips. "That could work."

***

Nearly a month after leaving, Pod returns to the factory. He bypasses the main gathering array where Silica is deep in meditation, drawing vast amounts of mana into her small form and pushing towards third circle, and joins Emily, Ivor, and Mensacus in one of their large, subterranean workshops.

He blinks in surprise at the new inky-black markings covering the mechanical chimaera's metal skin, shifting and swirling in dizzying patterns, but he quickly turns his attention to the slight furrow in Emily's brows on her otherwise blank face.

"What's up?" he asks, pulling out a seat from under a nearby workbench. "I wasn't gone for too long, was I?"

"No, I told you to take all the time you needed," Emily replies, waving off his concern. "It's good to have you back. I was going to send you a message if you didn't return soon: I saw activity on the Transmitter that looks like someone may have picked up our signal yesterday. However, because of this, it's about time I told you two about one of my more… difficult to speak about secrets."

Pod and Ivor exchange confused glances, unused to seeing their friend and leader so hesitant.

"More difficult to speak about than the corpse farm in the basement?" the mechanical apprentice asks with a hint of humour in his tone.

"That's hardly a secret." Emily rolls her eyes before her face returns to a neutral mask as she fixes them with a serious gaze. "To put it simply, what I want to tell you about is my greatest defence measure, and the more people that know about it, the greater the risk of us all dying. I have so far only informed my children, and only because we share a bond that would allow me to know the moment they're harmed or anyone tries to rip the information from their minds. To that end, I would like to ask you both to allow Mensacus to place a Mental Lock on your memories: the spell will erase all traces of this conversation the moment someone uses magic to tamper with your minds. I know it's a lot to ask, but-"

"I'll do it," Pod cuts her off, returning her gaze with steel in his own. "I… want you to be able to trust me with anything, and if letting Mensacus mess with my head is what that takes, so be it. Besides, he may call me weak, but I know he likes me really."

Ivor nods his agreement as the mechanical chimaera in question glares at Pod.

"I haven't really known him for as long as Pod has," the magical apprentice signs, "and my first interaction with his creations was less than pleasant, but I trust you. I know you wouldn't ask this of me if it wasn't important."

"Okay." Emily nods, not even needing to ask as Mensacus opens his third eye, bathing the two apprentices in milky-white light and weaving a spell from ethereal runes. "This clock in my arm… it allows me to turn back time and, as I've tested with Mensacus, you should be able to activate it too if I allow it. Though you won't remember that happening…"

***

A few weeks later, after the shock of her unveiled time-travel has begun to fade, Emily feels a nagging sensation pulling her gaze towards the roof of her workshop, telling her it's time.

"They're here," she tells her apprentices, not needing to explain as she rises and makes her way out with them hot on her heels, collecting Silica on the way past the gathering array and calling Mensacus up from the farm below.

The sandstorm is quiet for once, leaving them with a clear view of the sky above, and Emily sends a stream of machina out into her base, priming the weapons hiding just beneath the surface in case of confrontation. To the same end, she draws in as much of the mana spread through her body as possible, reinforcing her Faraday Cage with machina and forming a secondary barrier of charge around her circles, concealing her true nature and leaving the guise of a pure mechanic in its place.

The first sign of their coming visitors starts as a small dot in the sky, a single drop of ink tainting the solitude of the vibrant blue canvas, but it quickly grows, gaining more subtle hues as it approaches. Black, grey, silver, and blue, all wrapped in a thin coating of red as the upper atmosphere burns away against the entrant's outer shell. The roar of engines fills the desert as the shape grows to a dizzying scale, several times larger than Elisime, and upon closer inspection, Emily realises most of the blue colouring comes from a thin layer of energy clinging to the outside of the ship, covering everything from the purpleish flames of the pulsing thrusters slowing its decent to the barrels of the turreted weapons pointed towards her.

An energy-based shield? How is that generated? Is it always active, or only upon atmospheric re-entry?

Curiosity and excitement burn in equal measures in her chest, but Emily keeps her expression blank, her eyes drifting to the blacked-out viewing windows at the front of the ship, angled down enough to provide those inside a clear view of her and her family. The colossal craft slows to a halt a few hundred metres above her compound's magical barrier, and the roaring engines quiet to a low hum as it hovers in place.

A boarding hatch close to the front of the ship slides open, and the energy shield flickers out, giving Emily a clear view of the large silver sword painted across the ship's hull. Several figures step out through the hatch, some less humanoid than others, but Emily's focus is immediately drawn to the two leaders adorned in flowing robes and emanating an aura of power far greater than her own: a gruff-looking man with a nasty scar curling his lip into an eternal snarl, with a heavy two-handed sword the size of his body strapped to his back, and an elegant woman who appears only a few years her elder, with vibrant silver hair stretching down her back and crimson eyes boring into her soul.

Strong.