6/15/2011 12:12 AM EDT
I deliver a finishing blow to a rogue Eidolon as another, the single one which now fights against the rest, engages more. It is clear that this battle will be a short one. I had doubted the efficacy of my power in light of recent events, however, it seems to have functioned , as I perceive the interference which these Eidolons are capable of inflicting upon my powers, I realize that they are most likely the lifespan-reducing threat against which my abilities have been preparing recently..
Though I am surrounded by them, and mounting a pitched battle against them, I find myself better able to control my revulsion towards them than ever. When I stop to really look at them, to observe them closely, I can see some unusual features.
They are unquestionably distinct from ordinary capes. Although each is only directly connected to one shard, they are able to access and utilize abilities derived from mechanism by which they do this the strikingly familiar. There is a certain pleasure and crushing them, but is tempered by an unusual sensation of melancholy.
Enough of them have died such that my predictive powers have begun to function with some efficiency. I can see the battle will not last much longer.
Consistent with my previous assumption, I no longer feel any of my powers devoted to self-preservation hoisting new strategies upon me. This is rather unusual however, since I have just finished assuring a number of humans that I would engage in a rather serious conflict personally. I investigate the impact of not following through on my promise on my lifespan.
There is a reduction, but far less than I would have assumed. I make similar inquiries regarding the impact of following through on my efforts to combat the so-called Endbringers, only four of which are presently answer reveals that my choices regarding this course of action would affect me even less.
After following my power rigidly for so long, I take pleasure in this new-found freedom.
Perhaps it is this pleasant sensation which causes me to experience little, if any discomfort as the final Eidolon comes into my presence. He is flanked by senior members of two human organizations, the Protectorate and the Thanda.
In the past, I have paid little attention to these groups, but I brief myself on them now. My power, unusually helpful, offers a side-by-side comparison of the two.
The Protectorate operates openly, though it serves the purpose of its founders in secret. The Thanda works in the shadows, but it's true aims are well known, if only via rumors, as far as the general human population is concerned.
Neither of them threaten me either. In fact, they offer me assistance, though I see it will be meager and laden with too many drawbacks to be of use. Instead, I lie to them about my need to recuperate, and disappear.
6/15/2011 9:05 AM EDT
Although my human form is no longer truly secret, a concerted effort on the part of the capes present has worked to limit the number of individuals who are cognizant of the link between that identity and that of Scion. Thus, I loiter unmolested in the headquarters of the Brockton Bay Protectorate.
This building will not retain its identity for long; nearly all nearby sapients are calling for some manner of modifications to the organization currently controlling it. A number of interlopers arguing for such changes have entered the building. One of them deploys her minions to covertly search the building; upon detecting me, she moves to seek me out.
"S-Z-, I mean, Greg," Taylor begins. "What are you doing here? Khonsu's still on the loose!"
It takes me a moment to place the unfamiliar name; it refers to the latest endbringer, a creature capable of teleporting across the planet with ease.
I try to express the mixture of sensations I have been experiencing. The necessary words are surprisingly succinct. "I am tired. And lazy." I pause. "And bored"
Taylor stares, her face conveying shock and horror. "What? Why?"
That one interrogative again. "I don't understand."
"You- you don't understand why?"
"Yes." Sensing her bafflement, I add, "I have never comprehended that question word."
She steps back with an unreadable expression. Then she says, carefully, "What, then, do you think about when you do things? Like, when you were fighting Behemoth?"
The concept of thinking, as she articulates it, refers to the work of several shards, several powers of mine, which accomplish in separation activity analogous to that of the human brain, as I discover with a light application of my abilities. "I was trying to survive."
"If Khonsu continues his attack, none of us are going to stand a chance!"
"No. My odds of survival are higher if I don't engage that Endbringer." I have not in fact made a decision as to following through with Kevin Norton's command, but as I discuss the matter, I feel myself inching towards choosing not to fight it. The sensation from not following my power's orders rigidly is… elating.
"Gr-Scion," she begins, but stops. "I guess after all these years of saving the world, you're tired of it?"
I think about it. "That statement is consistent with reality."
"Then.. is there some way I, or anybody else, could take out Khonsu?"
I ask the question myself, and transmit the strange answer.
"Take Eidolon to a therapist."
Interlude: Phir Se
6/15/2011 10:46 PM IST
He had prepared all his life for the previous day. From the moment he'd gotten his powers, he had desired nothing more than to purify the world of the filth in which it was slaked. The temporal nature of his abilities seemed to offer a tantalizingly trivial method of accomplishing this. However, he had learned very early on that his skills would not allow for any chronological crusading.
As such, he had been forced to resort to cruder measures.
He'd been prepared to sacrifice everything for one final attempt at stopping the First. But it had proved unnecessary. After decades of seemingly charging down a death spiral, the world had, entirely unexpectedly, taken a turn for the better.
Indeed, this new series of developments was almost suspicious in its auspiciousness. A Scion who no longer dropped in and out of human affairs like a forgetful gardener with neglected plants. The collapse of much of the corruption which infected capes worldwide. To top it off, Khonsu, the latest Endbringer which seemed almost built to rain on the parade of an active Scion by virtue of its teleport ability, had apparently fallen dormant in Beijing, where it was not causing any further damage aside from obstructing a considerable amount of traffic.
He had retreated to the safety of his compound to take stock of the situation, only for one of his intruder alarms to trigger shortly after.
Were his sentries out partying? He curses internally, but before he can prepare, the intruder reveals himself. It is the one who, just a day ago, had asked for and received the assistance of his bomb.
Scion stood, as expressionless as ever. But while he had radiated tension just the other day, the pseudo-aura surrounding him now is muddled, difficult to read. The golden man spoke.
"I require your assistance."