A Backwards Approach to Clarke's Law - August 2025 Update (Patreon)

Finally got this done. Will be published in 2 parts next moth, September 2025.

Thank you everyone for waiting.

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Chapter 6 – Conspiracies to Commit Salvation

“-. April 15, Year 2XXA.-“

Lucian had, in fact, survived the chaos I unleashed, though it took a lot more than the usual spark to get him back to one hundred percent, and he needed a while to recover. Marius Tepes was a very voracious cloud when he wanted to be, his mist form was damaging to spirits even if he wasn’t paying attention. I’d felt some of it for myself when I tried to astrally project, during the chase.

Between the two of us, it was trivial to find the right spot to come out of the ground. Lucian left immediately after, but that was just as well. He had a lot more unfinished business to deal with now.

Before the mission I’d left my own van parked off the road some way outside the city. I’d used transmutation to make a clearing in the forest, plus a temporary path to it which I then turned back to normal so that no one would know.

From there, it was an easy ride back to the meeting spot. The radio was all news about the shootout at the Antigen building, but it was as well curated as usual, so I didn’t subject myself to the over-the-air hypnosis more than necessary.

When I arrived at the place where we first made contact, I was pleasantly surprised to find not only Michael and Selene there, but also the hunters. Despite that it was night, and that it was impossible to keep a healthy distance by whatever standards Michael and Selene had for such things, they’d decided to wait for me. How nice of them.

I was assuming things here, admittedly. It wasn’t impossible that they were only here for less than happy reasons. Maybe they felt the mission was more than they’d bargained for, and intended to squeeze me for more pay than the vampire-liberated cash and gold coins I’d already paid them up front.

It was also not impossible that Selene might turn out to be the sort who plays power games, which could make for a bad combination with any acquired paranoia from her captivity. In that case, since they’re not much affected by the Halo I might be in real danger, though that wasn’t the read I got off her.

Thankfully, neither turned out to be the case.

“Far be it from me to complain that you didn’t drag us into whatever spur-of-the-last-moment you got at the end there,” Duke said with the conflicted relief of a veteran who wished he wasn’t questioning the sanity of his newest comrade-in-arms. “But I’d feel bad if I didn’t point out that spur-of-the-moment things usually snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.”

“It wasn’t spur-of-the-moment, it was a thoroughly reasoned decision I’d been deferring on, and which I’d not have involved you in regardless.”

“Don’t trust us enough?”

“You don’t possess ability enough to compensate for me being unable to exercise my particular kind of subterfuge in a group mission.”

Duke grimaced. “I hate that you’re probably right.” He and Alpine were still the only two with their faces revealed. “Did you get whatever it was?”

“Yes.” Had Lucian not tattled on me? At least not to these men. How interesting. “But I don’t imagine that’s the only reason you’re still here.”

“It’s not.” The man held out the rolled-up paper he’d been bouncing against his thigh when I drove up. “Contact info, in case you ever want to hire us again.”

He sounded reluctant, but not ‘I was outvoted’ reluctant, just overall reluctant from knowing the limits of bought confidence. Considering that he was burned hard enough in the past to develop the motherlode of all OPSEC obsessions, it was impressive that he didn’t act on paranoia here.

I accepted the papers and took the few moments it took to speed-read. “Since there’s nothing here about it, assume I’ve been living like a mountain hermit when I ask: what’s the Union that Bazooka mentioned before, and how do I make contact? I assume it’s some sort of internet community? Since you’re giving me a magnet URI I assume none of it is indexed, based in the Dark Web.”

“No shit, really?” Cutter muttered. “You know that old guy but don’t know about the Union network?”

“Lay off.” Wild Bill muttered. “We weren’t any better. Even our bosses didn’t know they existed, they got plants into 4klan and still didn’t recognize the smokescreen.”

“Sorry, just one job isn’t enough to earn my full trust,” Duke said bluntly, pointedly glancing at the hybrid couple, who were very inconspicuously talking in low tones while seeming oblivious to our talk. Yeah, I didn’t buy it either. “But we ourselves are still being vetted by the community, we can’t risk that.”

A dark web organization that was able to act as a high-trust society, but only by carefully curating who it allowed into its in-group. That could only be accomplished if the members possessed the same core values, even across borders since these guys were Americans, albeit clandestinely immigrated to the other side of the world. The word ‘Union’ itself had some unfortunate connotations these days… but they wouldn’t apply to an online community that don’t share the same employer, job category, or even the same country. So…

The Union was a network of regular people? Probably blue-collar workers for the core demographic. Who became aware of the supernatural through whatever means, and had banded together to share ways to keep themselves and their families and friends safe from the things in the shadows. Probably mundane criminals too, maybe even corrupt and oppressive bosses.

All this went through my mind in the space of a blink, but I only replied with: “I’ll ask Makaro then, when I see him.”

“Yeah, he probably knows about it,” Duke grunted. “There’s few things that guy doesn’t seem to know about.”

What was up with that wording? “You’re not sure?”

“He didn’t put us in contact with the Union, but someone visited us with invitation to a housewarming party a few days after he snuck us out of the US to here. And that’s probably where I should stop.” Duke hesitated, glancing at those two again, then at his other men, before looking at me again. “Though, if you’re up for it, we can build some of that extra trust right now.”

“Gonna take the healing?”

“Some.” He didn’t seem happy, but not unhappy either. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, Bazooka?”

“I don’t know, boss, is he gonna tell us why he vanished on us?”

I shook my head. “That’s need to know, and you don’t need to know.” My van had tinted windows so they couldn’t see the children sleeping inside and ask awkward questions. “Would it help if I volunteered my educated guesses about you lot?”

“Probably not,” Duke replied. “But we probably need to hear it just to know how deep a shit we’re in.”

“I promise, you only made the right kind of impression.” I glanced at the hybrid couple over there. “Hand me one of your radios.”

Duke glanced at Mainframe, who tossed me his own, which made sense because he was the only one with a backup under his collar.

I put it on, turned away so that neither Selene or Michael could see my face in case they were secret lip-readers like me, and subvocalized what I’d put together.

“Americans, obviously military, part of the same squad for most time served, heavy duty the whole time considering some of the physical wear and damage on some of you. The inability of Wild Bill and Cutter to disguise their accents exclude at least them from being part of an alphabet intelligence agency. Conversely, variety of expertise indicates you were brought together from multiple, if not all US armed forces. Level of competence suggests black op elites – marines, SEALs, possibly outright Delta Force or some off-the-books equivalent.”

By their uncomfortable reactions, I was right on the money.

“Knowledge of the supernatural… can’t be typical of the US military or there would be a lot more whistleblowers who committed suicide by shooting themselves in the back of the head five times. So. The USA has at least one supernatural-related task force and you were part of it. But you’re hiding here now, which means you did or discovered something that put you at odds with your bosses. Since it was old man Makaro who got you out… The task force was actually controlled by vampires? And you found out?”

That last bit was something Lucian mentioned vaguely during the talks yesterday, but I’d have made the same guess myself.

“Fucking Dune bullshit is real,” muttered Low-Light, and he wasn’t the only one disturbed.

“Okay,” Duke released an explosive breath, hand near his pistol. “What will it take to keep that to yourself?”

“My best judgment is not for sale. Don’t worry though, I’m sympathetic.”

“And that’s the best we’re getting?”

“Plus the healing,” I nodded. “Unless you’ve changed your minds about that?”

“… Fuck it,” Bazooka muttered, stepping up to me. “Even brain-damaged I’m not dumb enough to get on the bad side of Sherlock Fucking Holmes.”

“Magic-Teleporting-Shapeshifting Sherlock Fucking Holmes,” Ace muttered. “Fucking Europe gets all the best shit.”

I snorted. “I bet you didn’t say that when you were still backed by the USA’s defense budget.”

“What defense budget? We never saw any of it, we barely got enough to fuel the tanks or we wouldn’t have had to-“

“Ace!” Duke snapped, shouting instead of just subvocalizing like we’d all been doing this whole time. “Shut up. That’s an order.”

Too late, it was enough for me. “You needed other sources of funding and that’s how you got tied up in vamp cash.”

“That’s just the least of it,” Duke growled, even though I’d subvocalized that last bit too. “Please stop digging.”

A fair few of the men were looking gloomy now, telling me I was getting close to some ugly personal topics. Their break from the organization clearly came with a tragedy or three, if not worse considering there were vampires involved.

I fell silent and set about curing everyone’s physical issues, even turning them back to their biological prime. I’d have done this before the mission, but they said no because it would’ve thrown them off at critical moments without time to train out the kinks.

Some had long-standing issues, not all of them exclusively physical. Low-Light in particular had a chronic hormonal imbalance that gave him insomnia, due to childhood trauma. I was surprised that he accepted my offer to cure that too, even though it was technically mind-affecting. I didn’t use the Voice on them to force the issue either.

No doubt they’d put him and Bazooka under observation for a while.

When everyone was marveling at their new lease on life, I finally judged it a good enough time to bring up something important. This time, I spoke out loud. “What do you know about how vampires turn people?”

“More than we’d like,” Duke grimaced, also going back to normal dialog. “Their teeth work like mosquito suckers as much as snake fangs, so they can inject you with their cursed blood instead of just drink it. It’s hit and miss, but sometimes the poor bastard rises as a new bloodsucker instead of dying.”

“They don’t turn just anyone though,” Flint said bitterly, though he was correct. Pureblooded vampires were very elitist, it was why the very rare birth of a vampire child was widely celebrated. “You gotta really impress one of ‘em before they’ll bother.”

“That’s how it usually goes.” I pretended I didn’t just realize why Flint took that so personally. Family got turned, or a friend? Perhaps a lady friend? “Is that all?”

“What, it’s not enough?”

This was either going to be the best or worst news they ever got. “It usually takes a certain level of power or a specially-prepared ritual, but if a vampire goes slow and steady biting someone’s neck and exchanging blood under the full moon, the vampire that results is completely and forever under their rule.”

“… Are you saying-?” Flint stuttered, something wretchedly hopeful on his face. “But then – if that’s true, Jaye might not’ve-?”

“Flint!” Duke barked, interrupting the other man. “… Leave it for home base.”

“But – no, no, you’re right. Fuck.”

A lady friend after all, or perhaps more? Lover, fiancée, wife? Flint wasn’t wearing a wedding ring but he could’ve taken it off.

Also, though his self-discipline was the highest among the bunch, Duke didn’t entirely contain his own reaction. He had a similar story, said Truthsense and Petit Perception working together.

What must it feel like, to have a significant other that suddenly betrays you to the enemy one day?

This did raise a question though. “The Old Man didn’t tell you this himself?”

Duke clasped hands behind his back so I wouldn’t see him clench his fist. “It didn’t come up.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we weren’t in the headspace to ask the right questions and the Old Man was always busy on the boat ride over. We mostly dealt with his men, who were all about minimal small talk like us. Not like we’d have known to ask about this stuff anyway.”

“This ‘Union’ didn’t have this info either?”

“Not the part about full moon slavery,” Wild Bill scowled. “But I’ll bet they’ll love the update. A lot of stuff suddenly makes sense.”

“I’ll say.” Duke rubbed a hand over his face. “Everyone, get ready to leave. Sapling, can I talk to you alone?”

I transmuted a wall with magnet-spun fans to divert our scent and muffle our voices in addition to hiding us from sight.

Duke joined me behind it, and chewed on an unlit cigar while he decided what he was going to say. I touched the tip and ignited it with a bit of transmutation.

“Taskforce VALKYRIE,” Duke finally said. “That’s the name of the organization we used to be part of.” Looking as if he’d crossed some line, Duke took a long pull of smoke before continuing. “It’s the US government's answer to the things that go bump in the night. Dates back to the end of the Civil War. An organized team of federal troops failed to rescue Abraham Lincoln from a supernatural. After that, the team leader Gordon West decided, for the good of the recently reunified nation, that they had to stage the assassination of the now-dead president. They used a look-alike and hired known secessionist John Wilkes Booth to do the deed. Since then, West's group’s worked outside the government to oppose the supernatural as best they could.”

Well isn’t this just horrifying?

“Their – our first objective was supposed to be keeping the general public safe from Extra-Normal Entities. But we ended up on foreign soil way too often, and put a lot of the leftover time into keeping that same public from ever learning about the critters, even though that was more the job of the Vanguard Serial Crimes Unit.”

So it’s not just one organization? It’s two? More?

“Eventually we smelled too many rats and – well, you hit the nail on the head. It’s a lot more complicated than that, but that goes without saying.”

It always is.

“I’m telling you this because with your nose for sniffing out secrets, you need to know what trouble might roll up the next time you call us for a job. Not to tout my own horn, but experts like us are pretty thin on the ground.”

Only until I start spreading my newest skills to others, but first… “Unless I give you new faces.”

Duke actually hesitated, but shook his head after a while. “That’s the sort of final step I’m not willing to take. We discussed it while you were gone. We decided it would be all or none of us, if we got a unanimous vote. We’ve not given up yet.”

I suppose I could see where he was coming from.  “Have you thought about whether you want to learn any of my bullshit?”

The man looked surprised. “You were serious about that?”

“One job isn’t enough to earn my full trust either,” I said wryly. “But it’s enough to begin investing in your group. Since you’re all back to your prime now – including neuroplasticity – at least Mainframe should be able to train as a Mentat.”

“A living computer?” Duke was skeptical.

I shrugged. “The word ‘calculator’ was the name of a job at NASA well before the first computer was invented.”

Duke was still skeptical, but he’d seen what I could do. “I’m certainly not stupid enough to say no.”

“It takes certain drugs if you want to get anywhere fast, but you can grow those shrubs yourselves. Which you might have to, the magician scene around here is big enough that they collect every psychoactive mushroom as soon as it sprouts. It’s really kind of annoying.”

“I’ll ask around, maybe someone knows someone who knows someone.”

Seeing as mind-expanding substances were necessary just to see some of the things out there, the Union would practically need to have access to such things to function. Now that I think about it, Village hags probably had pots and plots of stuff all over the country.

Yes, the evil eye, curse you with misfortune to nine generations, send your toad familiar to suck the milk from your neighbour’s cow at night kind of village hags, we actually still had those.

I weighted my options for a moment. Mentat and Bene Gesserit training did a lot to cover for my blind spots, but they also let me know exactly what they were and how big. Inspiration might seem too precious to ‘waste’ for the sake of other people, but this was just the start, wasn’t it? If I was serious about elevating mankind from our rut, I’d be doing a lot of teaching in the future.

Nous Attained – Teaching and Learning I

The reason why the two were lumped together became immediately obvious. Level 1 wasn’t just the basics, it was full-blown applied mastery at teaching regular people. This included not just how to teach things, but also how to learn things. Instructional, experiential, game-based, project-based, learner-tailored, and many more, you name it. The only reason humanity didn’t churn out master didacts like candy was because there were very few teachers that were good enough teachers. Go figure.

Nous Attained – Teaching and Learning II

Beyond the fundamentals was the skill of teaching people who were gifted, disabled, or otherwise removed from basic common sense. It might sound niche enough to not be worth a spark, but the sheer number of issues and eccentricities that existed out there more than justified the expense. Especially since this included the ways to manage all sorts of autism and trauma, as if I’d spent a lifetime learning just that.

Sure, I could cure or alleviate those things with alchemy and Bene Gesserit methods, but what if I wasn’t present? Also, this ever so coincidentally covered practically all inhuman mindsets as well. Mentat had a lot to say about that, even relying on Simulflow to be able to shove all of it in my face.

Nous Attained – Teaching and Learning III

The final level… might have just shaved years off my constantly revising self-improvement plan. Level III was… the skill to break apart any single action someone took? To tell how much of an action was purely physical, how much was mental, how much was paranormal, even what kind of paranormal. There were a whole bunch of methods, some differed, some could overlap, some couldn’t, some were more trouble than help…

Forget teaching, this would be invaluable in any situation, especially combat. It wasn’t any kind of paranormal sense, it was ‘merely’ deductive reasoning honed to the point of intuition. As if I’d spent decades teaching other people and developed an acute intuition about these things. With Mentat and Simulflow working together with this…

Might I not be able to reverse-engineer every possible discipline from first principles? If I really had to?

I don’t want to have to, though, I have a lot of important things to do as it is!

“Hey,” Duke called, eyes narrowed. “You alright?”

“Just had a revelation.” I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Duke huffed a laugh. “As if people can just decide that.”

Fair.

I transmuted a tree branch into a training manual for Mentat. It turned out very different compared to what I was planning before my enlightenment just now.

After thinking about it, I transmuted an extremely cut-down version of Encyclopedia Supranaturalia too. The whole thing would be the size of the complete Britannica several times over otherwise, and most of that stuff was specialist fiddlework no one actually needs. “This doesn’t have everything on the supernatural scene,” I warned him. “But it should have the essentials, not just what pop culture got wrong or right about strengths and weaknesses and the like. Plus the uses of the flora here, fauna, that sort of thing.”

Duke accepted the books, surprised at how heavy the second one was. Even with just a fraction of everything, the Encyclopedia was bigger and heavier than most books ever made. “I’m starting to feel like we’re getting more value than we earned.”

“Give my contracts the same priority you give the old man’s in the future and I’ll say we’re even. Also, you can say where the book comes from, but don’t otherwise talk about me or what I have you doing. Obviously.”

“That goes without saying.” Duke huffed. “But I’ll admit, this has been the most satisfying job we’ve had since we had to hide. We’ll need to lay low, though, while the heat dies down. But I guess that’s not an issue for you.”

It wasn’t. No one had any real information on me, including them. Not my real age, not my real appearance, definitely not my real name. Even if they shared the source of their books, all they could say was ‘some guy gave it to us after a job, but we don’t know what he actually looks or sounds like.’

It would make it hard to contact me, and vice-versa, but there was an easy fix for that. “Got a phone number I can call you at?”

“I’ve got an answering machine in a safehouse somewhere.” Duke hesitated, then made a scowl of resignation. “But I can give you the number the Old Man used to get a hold of us.”

‘Us’ not ‘me.’ “Do you take turns holding the phone, so that only one of them is compromised if something bad happens?” Would only work for a mobile, but flip phones were common enough.

Duke groaned. “Stop guessing everything, please. You’ll give me worse insomnia than Low-Light.”

“I can only pretend to do that.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“Sorry.”

Since I had perfect memory now, it was trivial to memorize the phone number he gave me. I didn’t add it to the smartphone, even though I was quite hopeful that it was clean of surveillance. I'd need to study a bit more code before I could check for sure, but in the meantime, better safe than sorry. I hadn’t saved Alexander’s number either.

When we got back to the others, we found some of the hunters talking fairly casually with Michael. Even if they’d only just been reunited, he and Selene didn’t seem to be the clingy type, though she was certainly hovering. She did from a fair distance, admittedly, but it was still hovering.

Duke called his men to order, and soon they were shaking my hand or slapping my back one last time. Their mood seemed to have improved the entire time Duke and I were talking alone. I’d have been worried if it didn’t, what I did was practically a fairy tale Fountain of Youth without the fountain.

Finally, it was just the three of us. Myself, Michael and his beauty love. I meant that objectively, she was a very beautiful woman. Like Snow White in tight leather, except her lips weren’t that red. That might fix itself when I turned her human again, undead don’t exactly have the best circulation.

It was definitely ‘when’, not if. I’ve decided.

I’m going to eradicate the vampire species. Whether by turning them back to human like the Corvinus bloodline was always meant to be, or by destroying those that got in my way, I’d undo this crime against humanity. Same with the lycans too.

It was just the start of what I eventually hoped to achieve for humanity, but it would suffice as an opening act. My knowledge of Ritual Magic was almost at the point where I could do it, just one or two more steps and I’d be ready.

Well, for a given value of ready when I wasn’t sure of my chances to escape a fight with this woman, never mind her and Michael together. Astral Forms worked in combat against devils because devils were half-spiritual by nature. Vampires weren’t like that, never mind what these two were. If Selene was as fast as Michael, and even just half as strong, I’d need to daisy-chain Astral Steps to flee.

Thankfully, even though I hadn’t grown into my new physical potential yet, Halo wasn’t my only offensive option. I also had destructive transmutation, which I could apply astrally, if at lessened efficacy. It would be a deconstruction vs. regeneration race. Theoretically I could win, but she’d have time to pulp my body in the meanwhile. Which I’d only be able to fix if she didn’t tear me limb from limb and scatter my mutilated pieces.

Transmuting complex substances from base soil wasn’t exactly efficient. Or quick.

Diplomacy told me not to come out and say any of that of course. It told me not to push on the humanity issue either, yet. That could wait until Selene completed her pregnancy. I was confident I could turn her and the baby human right now, at no risk to either, but there was a time for everything and this wasn’t it. If I hinted at all that I could turn demihumans into humans, Selene might assume I had designs on her life, take Michael and run.

Diplomacy also told me the best thing I could do right now was cede the opening of the conversation to her. 

She didn’t say anything for the longest time, though. This was very awkward for all of us.

Option two it is.

I pulled out my smartphone and called the first of my two contacts.

“Makaro here.”

“Don’t you have a way to see the calling number?”

“My current abode is a bit old-fashioned.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing it then.”

“Does that mean you’ve succeeded or abandoned whatever dangerous quest you embarked on after we last spoke?”

“The former.”

“Dare I ask?”

I watched the other two, knowing their hearing was easily good enough to hear both sides of the conversation. “I raided Castle Tepes.”

Selene’s mouth dropped open. Even that looked good on her, Michael was a very lucky man.

Alexander was silent for a moment. “Successfully?”

“How do you feel about kidnapping children?”

“I… much as I’d dearly wish otherwise, I dare not profess that I possess the moral high ground on anything. There are extenuating circumstances, I assume?”

“Systematic abuse from birth, life-long incarceration, and the Holy Grail.”

Silence over the line. In front of me, Michael was mouthing ‘Holy Grail’ in disbelief, while Selene was looking at me as if I were a bomb about to blow up in her face.

“They’re also abusing each other, now. One more than the other. The girl doesn’t mean it, she doesn’t even realize it, but it would’ve resulted in permanent destruction of identity for a seven-year-old boy. It still might, but I’m hopeful I can undo the spiritual mutilation.”

“I can see why it couldn’t wait.”

Everything can always wait, but I appreciated the sentiment. “Are you still up to receive visitors?”

“Certainly. Will you be bringing guests? Other than the children, that is.”

“What do you say, you two?” I asked the two in front of me. “Am I bringing guests?”

“I’d argue that goes without saying,” Selene finally said something. “I have much to talk about with both of you.”

Including vetting me with the old man, no doubt. “The answer is yes, that makes a total of five. We’ll bring our own weapons and food. What passes for an adequate gift on arrival?”

“The tale will more than suffice.”

“One last thing before I go – the answer to the question you were told specifically to ask me yesterday morning is yes.”

“… Truly?”

So far Alexander Corvinus had been quite composed, but now he sounded hopeful.

How did Hades know I’d be able to do this? Before I actually could? Divination? Prescience? How can I block them? Maybe I can devise a ritual for it…

Later. “Do you have anything to write things down?”

“My memory is fairly good, but I will write if you wish.”

“I do wish. This is what you need, per person: 48 kilograms of water, 11.2 kilos of Carbon – ideally graphite, but coal will work too – 3.2 kilos of ammonia, 1.27 kilos of lime, 625 grams of saltpeter, 605 grams of phosphorus, 200 grams of salt, 182 grams of sulphur, 157 grams of sodium bicarbonate, five grams of iron, three grams of silicon, and a full carnivore meal on hand.”

“This – is certainly not anything I expected to hear.”

“A full-grown pig will work too, as large as you can find it. Or any average pig if you also bring along a cow, or even just a sheep. It’ll be messier though.”

“I will find the materials.” Quiet over the line. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

I know a lot more than you think, voivode, but I believe you. “If you need to fudge any quantities, make sure to round up. Also, if you just so happen to collect a bit of surplus, maybe enough for one more person, I’ll appreciate it.”

“On my word, you will have everything you need.”

“Alright, then it seems we’re finally meeting in person. See you in a couple of hours?”

“I await our first meeting with much anticipation.”

I ended the call.

“That is no recipe for any explosive I know of,” Selene remarked. “Or anything at all.”

“It’s not for an explosive,” Michael said cautiously, with an undercurrent of wonder I didn’t dare poke, lest it prove too fragile. “And if I’m right, then he might be able to do a lot more than either of us thought.”

Selene glanced at him. “You can make sense of that nonsense?”

“Water, carbon, ammonia, lime, phosphorus, salt, saltpeter, sulfur, fluorine, iron, silicon, and trace amounts of fifteen other elements. The quantities are a bit different, but most of the list is the same. It was kind of a joke during medical college, but… that’s the list of substances that make up the composition of the human body.”

Selene was much more intent on me all of a sudden. “That’s impossible.”

She realized the implications. Good. “Only when the soul is unavailable,” I replied, then looked up into the nearby tree where a certain ghost had been watching from ever since he returned, earlier when the hunters were all still here. “How about it, Lucian? Does Pinocchio want to be a real boy again?”

He wanted it more than he ever wanted anything, dead or alive. But he claimed he didn’t want to waste the time it would take us to drive there. He said he’d meet us there later and left.

He was lying. What he really meant was that he thought I was too good to be true, and he wouldn’t make the leap without setting up some contingencies in case I brought him back as a slave.

“-.  .-“

Alexandru Corvin was the ideal of a Venerated Ancestor come to life. A tall, solid, dignified elderly gentleman who wore his age like a badge of honor, his hair and short beard completely white, but his blue eyes were unclouded, his face had just enough lines to testify to his seniority without diminishing his handsome features, and his body was still hearty and strong. His heartbeat was steady but not entirely calm, conveying anticipation that was equal parts hopeful and anxious.

He welcomed us in the foyer of a decently-sized but not particularly expansive townhouse in Hunedoara. He was alone, save for the specters haunting him that were lingering in a room down below. He was dressed in an ankle-length black velvet coat with silver lace and buttons, a garb that could have been a knightly surcoat in an older age.

He acknowledged Selene and Michael as prior acquaintances, but only had eyes for me otherwise. He quickly adjusted to the sight of the two unconscious children I was carrying. Unlike Michael and Selene who’d had many questions on the drive over, he didn’t ask any and swiftly led me to one of the bedrooms.

Once Valerie and Gasper were situated, he showed Michael and Selene to the opposite room and asked them to wait for him to call on them later, which they accepted.

After that, he led me to an old-fashioned parlor. The style was reminiscent of the Renaissance, with a stone-carved fireplace with detailed humanist bas reliefs, wallpaper decorated just enough that it wouldn’t be mistaken for baroque. There were several couches, armchairs, settees and small tables throughout the room, with antique curtains and upholstery that were clearly made to order to fit a single theme. From the ceiling hung a chandelier, though it only looked antique in this case – the electrical and lighting installation was much more recent than the building.

In the corner was a gramophone. From it flowed the low, steady cords of a guitar, underscoring a gentle woman’s voice intoning a slow, sad, French lament. By the texture of the sound, and the scratch of the needle on the disk, it was one of the older records, possibly among the first ever made.

~ Miroir du temps, nos histoires s’alignent Dans le creux de nos mains, deux mondes se dessinent. L'un peint de rêves, où le chagrin s’efface, L'autre, nu et réel, où notre deuil prend place ~

“Mirror of time, our stories align,” I translated, even Mentat struggling to maintain the depth of meaning through the language barrier. Especially when it was something sung by Edith Piaf. A young Edith Piaf. “In the hollow of our hand, two worlds take shape, One painted with dreams, where sorrow fades, The other, bare and real, where our mourning take place.”

“It is a song I commissioned during the Interbellum, in memory of some old friends I made in Paris while visiting Traian Vuia,” Corvin revealed. “They were gifted in ways no others were, which made it all the more devastating when tragedy tore their family apart. Unfortunately, I never learned if they were able to move on. I lost touch with them during the Second World War, and later found a crater where their manor had been.”

Such a tragic background to such a touching song. Was there any song more fitting for a man to mourn to, after losing all his family and friends in one day? One of whom even killed him, no matter the help. And then he was given no time to mourn because he was abducted for torturous experiments by hell’s monsters. “Was it a lucky bomb?” There was a lot of ‘strategic’ bombing of cities during World War II. “Or something else?”

“I was never able to determine for sure.” Alexander sighed, walking over to stand next to the phonograph. “But if any of the world’s other denizens became inflamed with obsession over them, I would not be surprised.”

He said nothing else until the song finished. He stopped the gramophone. The room descended into silence. I had a lot of things to say, but I wasn’t sure of the courtesies here. The Old Ways of Hospitality were purposely light on specifics, after the proper rite of welcoming was over.

After thinking through my options, I touched my face and…

Reverted to my natural appearance for the first time since I climbed the mountain.

The man turned to study my true face with intent, avid, almost feverish intensity.

It could have felt uncomfortable in any number of ways, but it didn’t.

“I do not know how to approach this,” Alexander finally spoke. “How does a man behave toward the one who saw to their deliverance from Hell?”

“Believe it or not, that was completely unintentional.”

“Completely unintentional to rouse a pagan god out of the depths of myth? That only makes it a miracle twice over.”

“You met Derzelas?”

“You know our old name for him?” The man was so earnestly pleased from such a small thing, it made me feel all chuffed. “Alas, no. I believe he was unleashing his anger elsewhere.”

“But you’re sure it was him?”

“Compared to everything leading up to it, considerably so. My insight into events was minimal beforehand, my mobility even less so. My captors knew better than to keep me anywhere that I might have overheard something important. I managed to goad the occasional lapse of discretion, but access to me was quite thoroughly curated. Mostly it was devils playing scientist just to satisfy their sadistic urges. They were none too pleased that my pain tolerance is as high as it is, and took it as a personal offense that mind control is only as good as the caster’s cognitive capabilities.”

Was it really? It was impossible that the occasional genius didn’t fall afoul of hypnosis from time to time, but that’s not the only measure of cognitive capability, is it? Also, some people were outright immune, weren’t they?

“My rescuer, when she came, was about equally driven in the other direction. She could have passed for a devil herself, but I have lived enough to know the differences. Given her fulminating contempt towards oathbreakers, I suspect it was Megaera of the Furies.”

“They didn’t just dump you in the middle of nowhere, did they?”

Alexander chuckled warmly. “No indeed. I was delivered straight to the boatman, who delivered me back to the Overworld. We somehow came out of the dark passage unto the Cerna River. I got off the boat not that far from here.”

“At least that went well,” I drummed my fingers against my leg. “Did they tell you anything?”

“Alas no. The Fury was in no expository mood, and the boatman never said a word. What brief instructions I did get were provided to me in written form. That scroll flaked to ash as soon as we left the Underworld.”

There was a lull in the conversation, but not long enough to become awkward.

Alexander took a seat at the tea table, on which were laid out glasses and bottles of spirits. He invited me to sit across from him. “Those children you brought, tell me about them.”

There was a lot I could do to curate that story, but I didn’t see the need. I glossed over the exact means I used to go in and out, it would have felt too much like bragging. But regarding what I knew about Valerie and Gasper, and why I decided to take such a big risk for them? I spared absolutely no detail about that.

“A grim tale.” Alexander decided when I was done. “You did the kind thing to get them out of their situation.”

“Not the right one?”

“An action is only lawful if it is warranted, and you owed nothing to them. It wasn’t justice, but it was righteousness.”

Good to know we agreed that great power doesn’t automatically impose greater responsibility.

He’d never once asked me how I knew about the children in the first place, or how I knew any of all I did. Even now he didn’t ask for explanations or proof. He was no fool to have lived so long, never mind build his secret mobile fiefdom, and yet he took me at my word. It was as if he’d outgrown paranoia itself. I could only hope I’d manage the same thing one day.

“What are your plans for them?” he asked.

“Remove their sacred gears and find them a family so they can live out their lives as humans. Maybe with different faces too.”

The old man stared at me, before slowly blinking and sitting back in his chair with arms clasped in front of his face. “I apologize. Before this it was understood that removing Sacred Gears is impossible. To hear it put forward as a fait accompli was rather startling to this old heart.”

“Not impossible, the Grigori can do it, though they try to keep it a secret. It is lethal though.” And would stay that way because the alliance of the biblical factions was a travesty that could never be allowed to occur.

“But not for you?”

“Not anymore. Honestly, turning them fully human will be harder, but I don’t foresee problems there either. Since the supernatural benefits all come from your DNA instead of the animal parts, I can even let them keep the enhancements.”

“… You can turn dhampir into full humans.”

“I can turn any demihuman into a full human, including half-devils and the Evil Piece reincarnated.” I wasn’t sure where the line between confidence and boasting was here, so I went with blunt honesty. “And pureblood vampires and werewolves too, maybe original devils even but I’ve not had the opportunity to test it. It’s all the same alchemy in the end.”

Technically, being able to make new bodies wholesale meant I should be able to reincarnate anything, like devils did with their evil pieces. But I lacked the Alchemical prowess to change the nature and shape of spirits from inhuman creatures.

For now.

Alexander’s arms dropped in his lap. He made to speak, but reconsidered.

It was already outrageous to boast that I had completed the Great Work that all but two alchemists throughout history fell short of. To say I’d gone several leaps past it? Alexander could toss me out on the street on my face and he’d be fully justified.

He didn’t. Instead, the man reached out to pour himself a glass of the strongest drink on the table, and took his time drinking it. And when he finished processing the unexploded bomb that I’d thrown into the elephant’s corner, he slumped over his armrest with a look of raw, naked grief. “Sixteen centuries,” he whispered, stricken. “Sixteen centuries cleaning up after my sons. And now, barely any time after they finally brought their much belated deaths upon themselves, only now are my prayers to God finally answered. Truly, the Book of Job was a promise, not a warning. Heaven likes its jests at our expense just as much as Hell does, in the end.”

There were things I could respond with to every part of that, but all the diplomatic skill in the world told me there was nothing good or appropriate. What could I even do, after hearing something like that? Speak for God? For all I knew he really was Job’s god, even if I really hoped otherwise.

Still, there was one thing. “Don’t hold it against God too much, it’s not his fault.”

Corvinus gave me the first look that wasn’t entirely kind. He pulled it inward immediately, as if chastising himself for his lapse. “Let’s not argue theology, I’ve not the heart for it right now.”

It’s not theology.

But I went along with it, for now. It was the least of the courtesies he deserved.

The silence settled over us, heavy and tense compared to before.

“Your pardon,” Corvinus eventually spoke again. “Even though it was an Old God who saw to my rescue, I seem to have done you both the same disservice that all those in a life-saving profession suffer these days. They put their whole lives training to save people from sickness and fires, yet when it’s all over the rescued only ever thank God.”

“Well… not always. Or everyone.”

“Exceptions don’t matter to anyone but swindlers and politicians, and I try to be neither. I’d like to think I’ve managed at least that much, in my dotage.”

I glanced around for something to banish the awkwardness with. I noticed a model of a naval frigate on top of the fireplace. I got up from my chair and walked over to inspect it more closely. “This was your ship? Sancta Helena?”

Alexander took a slow breath, released it, and got up to join me. He was a bit taller than me, but he didn’t loom. “A hobby, of a sort. The real Sancta Helena was a refitted frigate. This is my hand-built model of how I myself would design a ship, if given the opportunity.”

Corvinus must have very deft hands and the patience of martyrs, it was an extremely detailed model. Unless I was mistaken, it was practically a scale-accurate blueprint of the real thing. “Sounds expensive.”

“Even for an ‘old money eccentric’, yes.”

“Do you need funds to restart your operations?”

Corvinus turned to me with a deeply fond look on him. “You would keep to the Old Ways that far?”

He still didn’t doubt any of my claims? Or at least ask how I could fulfil such an offer? “I’m not here to impose anything.”

“But you know that you could.”

In the old days, everyone actually acknowledged what it meant to save someone’s life, never mind the lives of their family or subjects. When someone took on a life debt, it wasn’t just a one-way street. For the one who did the rescue, acknowledging the debt meant to not only accept the service of the one who incurred it, but become responsible for them. For practical purposes, it could go as far as becoming a sponsor, a godparent, the master the debtor served above all others, even against the master’s own social superiors all the way to the king himself.

Conversely, the master was their defender and advocate before those same authorities.

It was equivalent exchange of the sort that could upend social dynamics enough to destabilize kingdoms. Especially if the one in debt was of senior age or a higher social status. Royals and fairies, in the old legends when the hero did them a huge good, they went out of their way to give wealth, marriage offers, even parts of their kingdom as recompense specifically to avoid becoming the junior in such relationships.

After a long, intense stare-down, Alexander seemed to make a decision. “I never go without a couple of nest eggs, this place is one of them. But it’s true that most of my prior wealth was tied up in the Sancta Helena, the specialized equipment there and my men. Considering what I’ve already requested, however, on top of the life debt I already owe you, accepting an additional boon without the proper commitments on both sides would be an insult of the worst degree.”

“So that’s a no.”

“No, it is a yes. Unlike some, however, I am not willing to treat honor as the dishonored wife towards whom one does their duty only when they’ve run out of mistresses.”

The rebuke made something twist inside me, a blow straight to my soul I hadn’t seen it coming even with my mental advantages. I shifted where I stood and had to hastily reframe what conversation I thought I was having. I was reminded that trying to forgive someone’s debt of honor was itself a dishonorable thing to do.

All of a sudden, I was acutely aware that I was standing in the presence of a man who’d unironically earned the title Alexander the Good.

“Historically, it was not unusual for vassals to be more eminent and older than their lord,” Alexander told me, his manner making it impossible to mistake the significance of this moment. “It was not unusual for the lord to claim Heaven’s Providence either, or for such boasts to almost always be complete lies. This is only the second time in my life when it is not.”

I cleared my throat, unsure if the upturned feeling in my stomach was more from his rebuke or his respect – deference…

Alexander the Good was offering me his allegiance? “Whatever blessings I have are not from Heaven.” Alexander’s reprimand had hit its mark and then some, I had to be very clear about this. “And I’m not going to look for any from Pagan Gods either.” Except the blessing of marriage, obviously, but that was still almost a year away.

“Yet somehow Hades himself answered your prayers, as God never did mine.”

They weren’t prayers. But that would only make it sound even more impressive, wouldn’t it? ‘I mentioned it off-hand but Hades decided on his own to do me a favor because I made him feel ashamed about something else.’

I was trying too hard to be modest. I’d come here knowing I was going to be in the same room as what might just be the most significant ruler in my country’s history, even if others were more famous. In wanting to avoid any sort of resemblance to all those crazy celebrity fans, I was overcompensating.

I rolled my shoulders and met Alexander’s eyes with my own. As my thoughts achieved clarity again, I found that I had no difficulty matching his intensity anymore. “Don’t hold it against God too much, this isn’t his fault either.”

I didn’t say it intending to throw him off balance again, but it did so anyway. “This again. What do you mean?”

To be clear, I didn’t consider lies to be inherently dishonorable, not if you were dealing with another liar. But that wasn’t the case here, and lying by omission was still lying.

That said… perhaps it wasn’t the best time either, yet. “Before we get to that, I think it might be time to fulfil that promise I made over the phone.”

Alexander thinned his lips. “I know what you’re doing, but I don’t begrudge it.” He didn’t move though. “Perhaps we should deal with your loose ends first.”

The children? “You want to be sure I can deliver?”

“I want you to be sure that their fate is not dependent on whether or not you deliver.”

Oh.

“You are cynical,” Alexander said softly. “I understand why, that is what the world does to the good. I apologize if I’ve been a contributing factor to it.”

I laughed weakly. “You’ve been literally perfect.”

“Perfect,” Alexander seemed to turn that word over in his head. “Enough to be indulged if I request a say in those children’s futures?”

“Honestly, I was hoping you’d know someone who knows someone.”

“That will not be necessary, I will raise them myself.”

“-.  .-“

To remove sacred gears without tragedy. To bestow humanity upon half-monsters. To restore the dead to life.

On an unremarkable April afternoon, I performed the first miracle twice, the second miracle three times, and the third miracle nine times plus one.

In all honesty, I didn’t think Michael would go for it, at least not this soon. But revealing my true face seemed to strike something in him, and Corvinus welcomed the idea of made family after how the born one went. It helped that Michael would keep his superhuman abilities, eliminating every objection Selene could have to him becoming human again.

Besides that, fortune took my side even without divination this time: Lucian showed up mid-way through me creating new bodies for Alexander’s men. Either the old myths were very curated or Hades had mellowed out since antiquity, because the Lord of the Dead had allowed all of Alexander’s closest underlings to return as ghosts, nine people in total.

Two of those same ghosts actually ambushed Lucian when he arrived, and escorted him inside on threat of violence.

Soon after, Alexander’s second-in-command Samuel finally woke up to his new body, after insisting he be last of their group. As with the others, it was as good and strong as I could make it, at least once they grew into it with time and good food. In a mix of sentimentality and practicality, Corvinus had donated blood so I could give his genetics to all of them. It granted them enhancements even better than the ones they had before, but I could see that wasn’t his main reason.

Alexander was too old dignified to weep in company, but his face was open and his eyes misty when he welcomed his old friend back among the living as family.

As Inspiration flowed into me from the Wellspring, I knew that my goal of reclaiming humanity’s autonomy had made a great leap forward three times over. Even without that, witnessing the difference I made in this man’s life was the most fulfilled I’d ever felt.

Finally, only Lucian’s new body was left, fresh and quietly comatose on the table of the improvised morgue we’d made of the cold room in Corvinus’ basement.

Outlined by the Light shining from a construct ball hovering between us, Lucian stared down at his own face with unblinking, hungry eyes. “I’ve seen it. Nine times I’ve seen it and I still can’t believe it. You can actually resurrect people.”

“I just made the body, the rest is up you.”

“So I just… lie down?”

“Like people sometimes leave their bodies when they dream, they can get back to them. It’s the same principle behind astral projection, or in this case possession.” With a little Flame blended in, but that wasn’t much more than I used to empower his ghost during the mission, and it was technically unnecessary. I just tossed it in to smooth over any adjustment issues, body dysphoria and random astral projection wasn’t out of the question otherwise. For a while anyway. “So?”

“… There has to be a catch to this.”

“Only insofar as I’m only bringing you back as a human. If you want to be a lycan again, you’ll have to find someone to infect you again. I personally recommend against it, the benefits all come from the antediluvian human DNA, not the animal parts.”

Like me, Alexander held some sympathy for Lucian, especially after his contribution to the rescue mission. It wasn’t enough to welcome him into his family, though, unlike the others. I could understand why, they were strangers to each other and it was hard to match literal death-defying loyalty.

I could sense that Lucian wasn’t inclined to be beholden to anyone either.

Fortunately, I’d been able to retrieve his own DNA profile from his spirit’s history, and reconstructed what I could of his damaged phenotypes like I’d done with mine.

“I suppose dogs have some advantage in terms of leaping power and a decent bite attack,” I mused when Lucian still hesitated. “But that’s not exactly a fair trade for the intrusive instincts and reduced mental capabilities.”

Lucian threw me a dirty look, but didn’t dispute that wolf instincts had effects other than positive on the human mind.

“… It’s too good to be true.” Lucian’s transparent form flickered in the holy light. “But I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t do this.”

He rose from the ground. He laid back on empty air. Descended upon his body, and then in it.

With Alexander gesturing for his men to stand down, Lucian blinked his eyes open, straightened up, and got off the table. “It’s real,” he breathed, touching his face. His chest. Feeling his heart beat. “I – I need to go. I need to see the others.”

There was a tense moment when he thought we wouldn’t let him leave.

It didn’t happen.

“I’ll never forget this.” Lucian told himself as much as me, before taking a fortifying breath. “… I’ll bring your offer to the others.”

As I watched Lucian make for the exit, I saw Alexander waiting near the door. He almost fooled me into thinking he wasn’t conflicted and restrained. As if he wanted to say something but couldn’t allow himself. To interfere with my decision for how to handle this. Wasn’t his place. We were in his own home but he thought it wasn’t his place to speak up here. No one else noticed it, but my combined skills in reading cues were just barely enough.

I experienced a moment when my various mental enhancement skills achieved total synergy. I saw the potential in this moment, and I saw the danger too.

Just as the leader of all werewolves was about to pass me by, I held out my arm to bar his path. “Do you know what sarin is?”

Lucian looked from my arm to my face. “The word is vaguely familiar.”

“O-Isopropyl methylphosphonofluoridate. It's a colorless, odorless, flavorless liquid that dissolves in water, making the resultant mixture practically indistinguishable from the original fluid. A single drop absorbed through the skin will kill the lucky ones, and if heated even slightly, it forms a colorless, odorless gas that happens to be one of the most lethal poisons in existence. The merest exposure will cause a runny nose, followed by tightness in the chest, loss of night vision, breathing troubles, sickness, drooling, and progressive loss of bodily functions until the victim is constantly puking, pissing themselves and shitting themselves. Soon after, muscle control will be lost, and after a little while of twitching and jerking, the person will fall into a coma and proceed to convulsively suffocate to death. Unless they don’t, in which case they’re disabled for life. Holding your breath won’t work, by the way, and regeneration will just prolong the agony. It’s not damage, it’s neural disruption.”

Alexander’s men were impressed. Behind them, Selene was somehow more rattled by my unexpected murderous turn than even Michael was.

The former ghost-man stared at me. “And here I thought being shot with liquid silver nitrate was a bad way to go.”

“We worked very well together. Even without that, I believe you and Michael were both truthful about your history. I’m sympathetic enough that I didn’t want to say any of this before. I wanted do you a good turn with no strings attached.”

“But you’re adding them now?”

“But, since your loyalties are clearly elsewhere and you continue to insist on keeping our association transactional, I’m going to be very clear about this: Alexander Corvinus was in literal hell until yesterday, as you yourself informed me. Alive or not, corporeal or not, prior history or not – anyone who ever decides it’s a good idea to cause more hell for him, they won’t be a problem for long.”

“That’s a lot of no strings attached.”

“They’re only strings if they’re conditions, which they aren’t. You’re alive and free to go, and I’ll do this favor for any other lycan who wants it, unless they’re an evil scourge who don’t deserve the kindness. I would’ve done this even if you hadn’t helped us with the rescue, because you deserve the break. But I don’t know any of your friends.”

The half-smile, half-grimace that Lucian treated me to then was the most authentic expression I’d seen on him since we first met. “Message categorically received.”

“The same applies relative to Michael,” I mentioned, just to be sure. “He hasn’t suffered as long as you have, but he’s suffered worse. Now that you’re alive, you don’t need to live vicariously through him, or anyone else.”

“That you don’t need to tell me.”

“Want a new face before you go?”

“… Maybe next time.”

Finally, the former ghost left, escorted out by two of the Cleaners. Or whatever their new name will be, now that Corvinus didn’t have a personal stake in the vampire-lycan war anymore.

“That was a mistake,” Selene warned me. “Immortals can share their memories through blood. I’ve seen all that Michael has seen. I’m the last person who will denounce sentimentality, but this didn’t need to happen here. If you truly have all these abilities, you would have been better served barring him from finding this place entirely.”

Unfortunately, I couldn’t cast whatever magic could bar a ghost from following their Unfinished Business everywhere. I could conceive of a ritual, but it had long preparation work and I’d have to capture and keep the spirit immobilized for the duration, so a double-layered ritual at the very least.

More importantly, I wasn’t one to treat people like enemies without them earning it first, and Lucian hadn’t. In fact, it was the opposite.

The man was born into slavery, but he didn’t resent his vampire overlords, and in fact he fell in love with one of them. Unfortunately, that girl was the daughter of Viktor, the ruler of all vampires above even the Progenitor Marcus.

Though he was a strict segregationist that forbid any and all dalliances between vampires and their ‘dogs’, Viktor was also the opposite of a hypocrite. Which was why, on learning the news that his daughter was pregnant with Lucian, he publicly punished them by forcing Lucian to watch while sunlight burned Sonja alive. If he hadn’t broken his chains during the execution, Lucian would’ve shortly been killed as well.

The vampire-lycan war that followed was entirely a case of the dogs finally biting the hand that beat them.

I wasn’t lying when I told Lucian I was sympathetic. “No, he’ll behave. In fact, I think he’ll try to convince the other lycans to take my offer, despite the attitude he showed here.”

Selene was not convinced. “How are you so sure?”

“Because life-altering conditions project unto the spirit so heavily that it’s almost impossible for the leftover shade to not have some evidence of them, after death. This is especially true of life-long curses, doubly so those inherited at birth, never mind tied to biology like yours. Yet somehow Lucian is an entirely human ghost. That says a lot about how attached he isn’t to lycanthropy, now doesn’t it?”

Reluctantly unable to dispute my expert opinion, Selene was now visibly reassessing my capabilities. Michael was visibly reassessing my sanity.

Michael got over it faster, and unexpectedly said what I’d doubted he’d say for a few more months. “I think I’ll take the change back right now after all, please and thank you.”

“-.  .-“

Michael’s sudden announcement did not go down without a fight.

While the couple retired to their room to have a very low and intense argument, I went back to the parlor to peruse Alexander’s extensive record collection. I was curious about the rest of the house, however, so I went wandering again soon after. Eventually, I found another sitting room, where instead of art pieces there were bookshelves all along the walls.

I would have been fine keeping myself busy for however long Corvinus took to reconnect with his restored people, but it wasn’t even ten minutes before he joined me there.

“That was quite the speech you gave for my sake.”

“Did it make you reconsider?” I wouldn’t normally circle a subject like this, but I could feel something literally ritualistic circling the two of us. Preventing mystical bindings from getting tangled up with the karmic ones was the least of the courtesies this man deserved.

“It’s strange to experience patronage from this side again,” Corvinus admitted peaceably. “But I’m ready to rest. The fact you don’t want anything from me beyond that is… Well. It would be a most wonderful turn for my life to take, if I didn’t have so many new things to worry about, chief among them yourself.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Alexander told me with the sadness of a father watching his son head out to war. “You’ve gone from a proverbial ghost to abducting apex cryptids from their own lairs while bombing office buildings and exploding castles. I’ve only been able to piece together the broad strokes, so I can only ask this and hope for an honest answer: are your abilities advancing fast enough to match the escalation of the enemies you have made?”

Slowly, I closed the book I’d been inspecting when he came in, a first-edition print of the Lord of the Rings. My instinctive reaction was to answer yes, Alexander didn’t know about my connection to the Tree of Knowledge… But independent verification was the bane of bias for a good reason.

As powerful as I became in such a short time, I only achieved all I did because of a sudden windfall of competent allies I never saw coming.

“There's only one speed you should work at – as fast as you can without making mistakes,” Alexander murmured. “So far, you have succeeded, and I am glad. But when the enemy starts with so many advantages, I cannot help but fear for you. Do you have a safety net?”

Not unless Ileana counted, though I’d done well enough with Alexander’s own.

But that wasn’t really an answer.

“Naturally, my resources and aid are at your full disposal, but will you not accept my help as a teacher as well?”

“Some question, I’d be mad and stupid to refuse.” The kinds of things someone picks up in sixteen hundred years, it would be easier to ask what he didn’t know. I’d been thinking about what I could offer in exchange for this very thing ever since we first talked on the phone.

“Well, a discussion for the coming days, perhaps.” Corvinus gestured at the book in my hands. “First time reading it?”

“No.” I took the change of topic gratefully. “But it’s the first version I’ve seen with the original Riddles in the Dark.” I turned the book to show the publishing year. “I noticed you don’t have almost anything here that was published more recently than the sixties.”

“Howard, Tolkien and Herbert were culture’s last three greats.” Alexander ran a hand over the spine of Conan. “It’s not a coincidence that nothing anywhere near their standards has emerged from the zeitgeist since. The denizens and their collaborators have insinuated themselves into the publishing industry to such a degree that you cannot find anything without their tendrils, strangling any manuscript that diverges from their one-dimensional formula. In this connected age, it gives them an unprecedented control over how culture is shaped, but that’s barely half of it. Hollow creatures without a spec of creativity like them? If you ever wondered why all forms of media are cheap imitations and knockoffs that think katharsis is a kind of fast-food, that is your answer.”

Now that he mentioned it, there was something here that made me uneasy when I put Mentat to the task. Drag So-Ball was a parody of Journey to the West, Familiar Master Zatouji only existed to train viewers to love monstrosities that are much less cute in real life, the Gentleman Alchemist was obvious vampire propaganda to make people think Dracula wasn’t all that bad, and Magical Girl Levi-Tan? That wasn’t propaganda anymore, it was straight-up mockery of mankind’s intelligence.

The greatest trick Satan pulled isn’t that he convinced the whole world that he doesn’t exist, it’s that she became the literal idol of an entire generation. Not the magical girl character, the ‘actress’ was the one every other girl in the eastern hemisphere wanted to be like. I couldn’t think of many more insidious rituals of subversion, that the new Satans could have inflicted on mankind.

Inspired Investor’s Catalog doesn’t have anything from any of those franchises, Simulflow pointed out to me. It has some things from Dune, some from Conan, and a large blank spot where Lord of the Rings could be, which raises some pretty high-brow questions. But all of that slop? Nothing.

Does that mean none of them are real places? Even in the metacosmos’ vast expanse?

The Catalog conveyed ‘almost certainly’ in clearest black on white.

Isn’t that just the damnedest thing?

About then, the freshly resurrected Samuel arrived to tell us that a certain unhappy couple was ready for me.

We returned to the basement, where the leftover transmutation resources all still were.

Michael was already waiting, and stepped forward even as Selene grabbed his arm.

“It’s alright,” Michael reassured her one last time. “I’m not losing my powers, just regaining the ability to eat like normal people, you know how it is.”

“I can’t follow you down this path.”

“Not yet, no,” Michael touched her belly. “But I needed just a couple of days to make you fall head over heels for me. With a few months you’ll be anxious to join the no-fangs club.” He looked at me. “You can turn babies back too, right?”

“Can and will.” I could do it right now even, both her and the baby right there in the womb, but I agreed that pregnancy warranted some prudence if you could spare it. “In the meantime, you can discuss whether you’ll take me up on the offer to give you new faces. Then you can live that immortal life of peaceful anonymity you’ve been trying and failing to have.”

“Do we need to choose one or the other?”

“No.”

“You’re a great guy, you know that?”

“If he lives up to his boasts,” Selene grumbled.

“No,” Michael disagreed. “Even if he doesn’t, he’s already done plenty for us. You need to make some real friends again, love.”

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” I said before Selene could more than scowl. “Now hold still for a minute, this will take both less and more work than the others.”

Ideally, I’ll be able to give people brains like mine too. But that was time-consuming even when I did it on myself. Also, unless I somehow gained some extremely invasive telepathy power, I had no way to compare all the changes I did to the thoughts in their heads. Brainwashing was achieved with much less, but to do it by accident?

I should still be able to get them started, and maybe speed-run some of the intervening steps. But it would be otherwise up to them if they completed the training.

Immortals like us can share our memories through blood, Selene had said.

I hadn’t given it much thought before this, because both people needed to have the ability for it… but Prana-Bindu and organic-chemical control could be used together to achieve something similar. Bene Gesserit used that to pass on their Ego and Other Memory on death via forehead contact. It wouldn’t normally work for us, the part of our DNA that should’ve stored and passed on memories through the ages was among the damaged portions.

The Corvinus strain was the exception, though, and thanks to that so was mine now.

Might I be able to combine all this with alchemy in a different way? To choose what memories to give? Knowledge, experience, skills, or a comprehensive roadmap for them to develop them like I did?

Thoughts for later.

The moment he was a human again, Michael Corvinus marched to the kitchen and ate until he puked, at which point he categorically stated that it was wonderful to puke because of how good he ate, rather than because he’s deathly allergic to everything but blood.

Always close by, Selene ate the blood pudding I made in-between Michael’s game stew and cabbage rolls, and pretended it wasn’t a life-changing experience. Watching them share the meal, I had no doubt that Michael wouldn’t even need a month to get Selene to come back to the side of barbecue and cake.

The time was approaching where I wouldn’t give people a choice at all, at least within my ‘territory.’ Unfortunately, my empire-building ambitions still had a while to wait…

Nous Attained: Ritual Magic IV, V

But I now had what I needed to cut down that time from years to months.

I just needed to survive to see it.

As I reviewed my actions leading up to this point through an all-new ritualistic lens, I became uncomfortably aware of just how right Alexander was about my likelihood to succeed.

====================================================

Achievements

·       Man Rejoices in Man – make a true friend (+0.5)

·       Heir to Munificence – attract a mentor (+0.5)

·       Fang Filer – cure vampirism (+0.5)

·       Snout Smacker – cure lycanthropy (+0.5)

·       Hack the system – remove a sacred gear (+1)

·       Run as Administrator – remove a sacred gear without tragedy (+1)

·       The Myth Begins – restore an apex cryptid to humanity (+1)

·       Lazarus, Make Way for Next in Line – restore the dead to life (+1)

Inspired Investments

Skills

·       Teaching and Learning 3/3

Powers

·       Ritual Magic: 3-> 5/?

Current Spare Charges: 4

Other Gains

·       World’s Most Discerning Master (Mentat / Bene Gesserit Training + Teaching and Learning 3): The skill to break apart any single action someone took, and to tell how much of an action was purely physical, how much was mental, how much was paranormal, even what kind of paranormal. Manifests as intuitive deductive reasoning as if user had spent decades teaching other people, thereby developing ultimate insight about these things.

·       Intuitive Forward-Looking Rite (Mentat + Simulflow + Ritual Magic 5)

o   Allows potential components to be recognized on sight for rituals/spells the user will perform in the future (or even if he doesn’t see them, if they’re within his aura’s range) – in practice, this means there’s a chance he’ll already have what he needs when he does the next bit of plot-relevant magic (don’t worry, I’ll still try to plant checkov’s guns everywhere)

o   Increases the odds that a ritual will be (especially) successful the longer the buildup (notwithstanding interference or interruptions)

o   ?

o   ?