He returned to the group and leaned against a tree; they asked questions at first, but after waving them off, they seemed to get that he wasn’t in the mood to talk just yet. He still needed to internalize the epiphany Cistasaria forced onto him.

  The vision of Command wasn’t literal, but symbolic of a very real struggle. He got the sense that if every Leviathan were to disappear, something integral to the universe would break, and life would either cease, or be forced to adapt to a very different form.

  The Primordial’s distant influence was enough to make the process easier, but she no longer had the finesse required to keep the clockwork turning. She’d surpassed everything, and could only shield the multiverse from whatever forces lay beyond, not its own mechanics breaking. That was on them, the ones left behind.

  But what did the holders of Command do? They were guides and gardeners, helpers of the natural process. They were… the river’s flow upon a waterwheel, keeping it turning, maintaining the movement, not of some abstract concept, but specifically the flow of souls.

  That’s why souls were so closely entwined with the domain of Leviathans, and why a Reaper’s affinities were the Cycle of Life and Death.

  During his first death, when he jumped Grim’s influence and went straight to the Void, he instinctually moved towards his second life. There being no sense of direction in that endless darkness, he knew where to go in that nowhere. That was the kind of thing Leviathans perpetuated, the cycle of reincarnation. Without Leviathans, old souls would fail to move to their new bodies.

  Still, there had to be something creating souls as well, because the population of the universe always grew. Was that a function as well? Without Leviathans, would the amount of souls stagnate, and their movements after death fail?

  In a place like that… undeath would reign, as souls would never dissipate. An apocalyptic scenario, but he also couldn’t help but try and imagine what such a world would look like if, at the beginning of time, Okrin had failed to save the Primordial when she was almost killed. It was boggling to think that they were so close to an entirely different branch of existence, one that would’ve altered the course of history so deeply.

  His need to carry out his part in maintaining the cycle presented a new weight in his mind, and he found himself frowning ever-so-slightly. He was proud to help, and he wouldn’t trade it away for anything, but sometimes ignorance really was bliss, to know that all functions of reality were not innate, and that there was a specific place someone could attack that would end everything.

  If some ultra-powerful entity went on a rampage and tried to kill as many Leviathans as possible, how many would need to survive to keep everything going? How long would it be before death became obsolete?

  ‘No, not possible, The Champion would never allow such a thing. Desperation killed a single entity and barely got away, if someone went on a warpath of terrorism, they would be crushed before it became too dire.’

  He relaxed at the thought and smiled; it really was a relief to have an overarching, benevolent, powerful entity to police the multiverse.

  The ground under him roiled slightly, and he chuckled. He’d sensed Perumah quietly inching towards him, hidden under the dirt, for some time. Again, her attunement to his emotions served as an indicator of when he needed help.

  The Champion’s other personality had unnerved him with its actions, and he felt more exposed than ever now that he was clued in to what, specifically, Leviathan’s did for the multiverse; especially now that he was no longer protected.

  The tree he was leaning on moved away and a wall of vines and thorns blotted out the sun, leaving him in the dim light of her glowing roots while he was laid flat on the ground.

  Just as before, he was allowed time to settle into the new environment, a sense of security washing over him, until she deemed his mind stabilized and formed herself another avatar.

  This one was her most accurate yet: incredibly smooth, body heat, and even basic coloration to her normally dull-platinum skin-tone.

  In the darkness, she could almost pass for a human, and she was beautiful either way.

  He accepted it. In his damaged state, he’d formed a crush on her, and that wasn’t something to be ashamed of. She was a pretty woman that’d been with him since the very start of his journey, even if he hadn’t realized it at the time. If anything, it was a relief to know he could form crushes anymore, considering he skipped his second puberty and was worried the mockery of hormonal growth would’ve left lasting damage.

  It probably did, but the fact that he could feel romantic love was still a good sign.

  He let the fuzziness wash over him, doing nothing to contain it but not indulging it either. There was nothing he could do to stop the emotion, but he wouldn’t complicate the emotions by trying to picture a future with her.

  Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how Twisted Love would slot into her personality. She would never feel love in the way he- or anyone else- did, but she would feel some weird, evil version of it.

  It wasn’t impossible a stable, dedicated romance could bloom afterwards, but that simply was not something he wanted to risk without knowing more, and he’d never been a fan of anything casual. He got way too attached and protective to even consider a half-hearted relationship.

  He brought himself back to the moment to see Perumah grinning evilly, as if she knew she’d won somehow which, admittedly, she probably did.

  “I just gained a massive infusion of all information involving the biology of organisms and how to better construct the expected forms of their bodies” she said proudly, which took him off guard.

  “What?”

  “From your Meditation. The bond we share has changed enough that its functionality is now different. No longer will I be able to hide in your soul for protection, but I receive a different reward.”

  ‘Huh?’

  Looking into the link himself, he found that she was correct, it had changed. Briefly, he used his eidetic memory to recall his exact line of thinking when he assessed their connection the first time.

  When he’d first deepened their bond, Perumah was… ‘the pure manifestation of Avium's brutality, everything he lacked. Dei was learning to adjust his thinking into a more lethal mindset, but Perumah achieved that as easily as he breathed. True, he was never fragile, but there had always been a bite to her that he could never reach. Despite that, and despite her cold and calculating mentality, he trusted her to watch his back even before she’d gained a passive Kindness affinity. As illogical as it was, he couldn’t internalize the fact that she was incapable of liking him before that point. He’d personified her before she herself had gained such an identity.

  She was not only the most brutal of the people in his group, but she was the one who’d changed the most as well. Though her level remained stagnant, and she did not insist they go one way or the other, she was constantly trying to hone her mind and had a logical, inquisitive way of thinking. She could break down the pros and cons of the new emotions she was feeling, then casually accept it to be overall beneficial and allow for such changes to happen; the machine efficiency with which she processed and understood her own emotions told him exactly how she’d gained a Heart affinity, which specialized in manipulating emotions.’

  The benefits of their strengthened bond made Perumah immune to his internal magic, and left a gap in his soul for him to store her sense of self. Now, that gap was gone, and he’d never be able to protect her there again, but he didn’t want to anyway; he wouldn’t devalue her by saying she required his protection any longer.

  No, what was Perumah to him now?

  She was… his closest friend. Clever would always hold a special place in his heart as his best friend, but Perumah was the kind of person who knew him better than his own mother. She was the childhood friend he didn’t always get along with, but the sheer history they shared forced them to understand each other to the point where speaking wasn’t always necessary, and communication was more implied than not.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  More than that, she’d somehow turned herself into a whetstone for him to sharpen himself. She was his opposition. When Fendrascora and Clever had allowed themselves to go along with his plans, it was Perumah that called him an idiot and demanded he improve. Since the beginning, she was the only one in the group sure enough of herself to counter him, refining himself further. Without him ever realizing it, his Personal affinity had started to respond to her, making him more receptive to the changes she invoked in him, because she strode to improve him.

  What did he gain from their bond? Something he’d started to crave: a way to see through the veil she used to obscure her intentions, a perpetual telepathic connection she couldn’t turn off. In the same way that she saw into his mind, he now saw into hers, and was only partially surprised to see her reasoning for wanting him to heal back into his previous, ambitious and incautious self.

  True, she liked his personality, and thought it would be healthier if he remained daring enough to forge onward in his path, but an underlying reason was her desire to groom him as a potential mate for after she turned herself into a Sapient.

  She wanted to create strong offspring, and only knew a single stable, powerful person who she knew well enough to control within an acceptable margin of error.

  Horror overtook her face as she read his mind, and knew he was reading hers. She panicked, looking inwards and trying to find the bond so she could shut it down or at least interfere, but was helpless to do so. It was a karmic connection, not an emotional one, and she didn’t have the tools to change it.

  Smirking, he delved deeper, and saw that she didn’t really want to interfere with the connection. She’d been feeling guilty this entire time, debating whether what she was doing was right or not, and now sought his implicit approval. She hadn’t employed every tool in her arsenal to trick his mind into personifying her further, such as casual contact while traveling or giving him a quick kiss on the cheek while they were this close in her garden- gestures she didn’t understand, but knew would get a reaction from him.

  As a naturally manipulative monster, it came easily to her to provoke the emotional responses she wanted out of him; despite that, she fought against her nature. Rather than binding his emotional state to her completely, thus securing the guarantee of an eligible mate, she opened the option of her in his mind. She didn’t want him to vie after her yet, but she wanted him to begin seeing her as a Sapient and potential mate long before she actually became one, thus shortening the time it would take for their relationship to blossom.

  By now, she was sitting on top of him, waves of embarrassment and shame emanating from her as she clutched his shirt like he owed her money. The avatar she used was completely still, and the facial expressions she projected ceased- she no longer wanted him to see how she felt, leaving but a statue behind. Alas, physical cues were irrelevant to him, and he could feel through their new bond anyway what emotions raged within her.

  “Perumah,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and getting no attention from her true self- she’d already retreated inwards, and the body she’d crafted wasn’t her, just another tool she used to manipulate him.

  “Perumah,” he said again, this time through the new bond, “I don’t care.”

  She heard him this time and paused, listening.

  “Just about every person on the planet manipulates their friends naturally, it’s called socializing, and people change each other unintentionally all the time. The only thing different about yours is that you know you’re doing it, and it’s not even particularly extreme. By your own admission, you’re holding back. Even ‘Tricking’ me into liking you isn’t new, that’s called flirting. All you’ve done is heal my mind and want me to like you a little bit in return. It's sad that you expect me to be angry about it, girl. Have a little more faith in me, yea?”

  He felt her huff internally and slowly relax, the avatar she presented becoming more animated as she did.

  She let go of his shirt and slid off him, scooting away to put some space between them. After a few moments of consideration, she flat out disassembled her body, not in the mood to mess with his emotions anymore.

  It didn’t matter, he could still feel the fading embarrassment and growing irritation through the karmic connection.

  “Stop reading my mind,” she demanded.

  “Why? You do it to me all the time!” he responded, holding back a laugh.

  “Please?” she said pathetically, and almost got him- until he read her mind and found no grief or shame. She used that tone exclusively to get him to do what she wanted.

  “Ha! That won’t work on me anymore.”

  He felt the scowl, and she said “Stop reading my mind or I will begin employing my stronger manipulation techniques. I know they’ll work, even if you’re now aware of them.”

  He knew when to throw in the towel, so he said “Alright alright, I’ll give you some privacy, but I’d like to keep using this later.”

  “We’ll talk about it,” she said, and he withdrew from her mind.

  He enjoyed the new comfortable silence, occasionally feeling her mental probes poking at his emotions, seeing if he really did forgive her for using his weakened state to worm her way into an advantageous position over him.

  He found her genuine, caring response to be more endearing than anything she could’ve produced. Though his crush remained surface-level, the platonic love he felt for her grew.

  * * *

  They spent a few days more taking a roundabout pathway of those universes near Edit, collecting an infusion of faith for The Champion in quarantine and, through the conversations he had, Dei found that he’d collected close to the maximum he could for this entire section of the multiverse.

  The Champions had a network of communication to each other, providing faith and other resources to those who needed it more. Not all, but the safer one was, the more likely they were to give away their resources. As a result, much of the faith in the area bunched up around Edit as distant Champions provided a significant “Tithe” to those in the danger zone. With Okrin sealed away for the foreseeable future and Dei as their savior, they were willing to look upon him with favorable eyes.

  During his travels, Dei felt his Social Marks he’d gained leveled up as well, and he gained several new ones- [Impossibility], [The Stable Slaughterer], and [Mythbringer] were the three he could understand. The first and third were based on his Class and Profession reveals to the universe at large, while the second was likely based on the internal studies into the personality he’d shown to the city, going around helping people despite the Slaughterer reputation for… well, slaughter. One and three made him seem more cryptic, while the second improved his connection with Kindness and his comforting Presence.

  The next one, [Catastrophe Caller], made him roll his eyes as he knew it was based on the one time he summoned the four Primordial Children into a single location. It made “Any catastrophe called down by him marginally more significant,” whatever that meant.

  He was then immediately confused by [Motherslayer] and [Matron’s Approval]. The first was because he was known to “The entire Mother network for being one who has slain a Mother,” while the next said that they had “Approved of his grand contribution to the Mother’s network.”

  The Mother’s voice among her sisters appeared to spread quite quickly. Even if only a single entity technically knew of him, each Mother seemed to count as their own person, and having the attention of a large quantity of them provided strange benefits that Ashvorn struggled to measure, saying that they counted as a low-level Mark while also holding high-qualities that baffled it.

  Finally moving away from his six Marks gained in the System space, he actually did earn one from Caps called [Eldritch Hero], which made him seem more benevolent while also making him more terrifying.

  Ashvorn pointed out that he would likely not gain a Mark from Minerali since he hadn’t already, which took him aback. When asked why, Ashvorn only had speculations.

  [Social Marks stem from the power of a population directly, not necessarily the affinity. It’s already been proven that mana within Cradle of Life is not “Real” enough to be used outside of it, meaning the people are also not “Real” enough to garner the power to change you in any meaningful way. Alternatively, it may simply require more time to form, as it will need more power to be sourced from the population at a lesser conversion rate, such as one “Real” person being worth a hundred “Cradle of Life” people, meaning it will require a “million elves thinking about you for a year” rather than the general baseline of “ten thousand elves thinking about you for a month.”]

  He thought it was bullshit, but there was nothing he could do about that. The elves would leave his Cradle eventually, and he would gain the Mark then anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

  …Right?

  Surely they wouldn’t follow him into a dangerous Quarantine because they’d rather colonize him than a real universe…

  …Right?