WARNING: This chapter has very heavy depictions of abuse and the beginning of PTSD. This chapter is not ESSENTIAL for understanding the rest of the plot moving forward, but it is important for understanding why Jax does what he does later on in the story. I'm sincerely sorry to anyone who has suffered abuse and cannot read this chapter for their health.
When the Warlock was called into the Meeting Hall, a storm of emotions brewed inside of him.
He had felt, not long ago, his sister die. Twice. With them spaced in such quick succession, he could only imagine what had transpired—and why he was alone, and called here today. But fear still gnawed at his gut, and he dipped into the Network. Fal-Mai had died twice. He had no true attachment to his siblings, he told himself. He just... had to know. He had to know if they had really killed her.
It took a minute, but a video feed played back across his mind. Once again, the sight of the storage room, light filtering in from the ceiling and debris scattered on the floor. Menace One-Five, marching in, the various members hauling their destroyed SPARK, Fal-Mai's weapons—and Fal-Mai herself, bound. Into the sky and out of view, they ascended on black cords, and Jax stopped viewing the feed. That was all he needed to know. She was alive. Captured, yes... but alive.
... but why did he care so much? At least he could justify it for the Assassin. For all of her naivety, for her occasional mistakes and misconceptions, she had been loyal in service to the Elders. If pressed, Jax would regard her with respect. To lose her... and to be left alone with the Elders? This was a dream Jax had before, to be the sole recipient of the Elders' attention. To show that he alone was worthy. But, now? When the Assassin had been taken, and he knew what had happened when his brother had been kidnapped?
The fear in his stomach was swiftly being replaced by a heavy sense of dread, and he tried to shake it off. He'd attempted to help the Assassin, after all—and Father was witness to that! Father had stopped him. Father would understand, and he would not be punished... right?
Maybe he could still do something. If XCOM could take, so could he. The plans for the cannon Mordenna had wanted to employ still existed. The design could be used. He could siege the Avenger and rescue the Assassin, at least!
His train of thought was interrupted as he felt the Void swell with sheer power. The Elders were approaching, and shortly, the psionic flames burned brighter at Their coming. Respectfully, Jax assumed his usual bow. They would understand. He could leave today, unmarked.
The presence of the Elders reached a crescendo, and Jax could feel Their very being washing over him. But... there was not as much comfort to be had, as he had felt before. Even at the first... punishment, They had been comforting at first. It is alright, he assured himself. He had this.
"Our child... you must understand why you have been summoned here today." The bass-filled thrum of Father's voice led the Elders, and the Warlock took solace in it. "We see your grief for losing your sister... and your plans to rescue her?"
At the Elders' question, he nodded. "It is a great tragedy that XCOM has taken no less than two of Your children. I would like to remedy this and—"
The voice of one of the Elders burned in his head—Helena. They... were no longer speaking as one? "Warlock. Why did you not prevent such a thing in the first place?"
Jax looked up, confusion evident. Did She not know? "I... I attempted. Did Father not tell you He stilled my hand?"
The very air in the Meeting Hall came to a sudden stillness. Jax could feel the signature of the Elders quiet to a deathly hush. The dread that had come before returned in full force. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have kept quiet and let the Elders speak, he should've never—
Cronus took over once more—overbearingly so. The orchestra of His signature swelled and rang off Jax's mind. "Jax-Rai Tessura, do you take enjoyment in defacing me?"
Jax's heart seized inside of his chest. That was an accusation. The Warlock would never seek to deface the Elders, and surely Father knew that. Then why was He asking such a damning and demeaning thing? Jax shook his head, balling his hands into fists nervously. "No, Father! I do not mean to insult You, nor would I like to do so." But... even as his fear tried to withhold what he said next, Jax had to know. Surely the Elders were unified, yes? "But... You did not tell the others—?"
The image of the Elders split, a second coming forward and bearing down upon Jax. The sheer magnitude of Cronus's power forced him into bowing his head, and he found himself trembling under the wrath He was exuding. "Dare you lie to my face, wretched son?! I owe you no explanations! You should be glad I do not unmake you on the spot for your ignorant presumptions! Do you know how easy it would be to let you rot?"
The Warlock could only shrink away at the onslaught, fear overtaking him as he started to curl inwards on himself. He was so, so frightened. This... this couldn't be happening. Father loved him, and this could not be any shade of love. Did he really step so far in asking a question? Did Father hate him now? So frightened was he, in the moment and at that prospect, that past his squeezed eyelids he could feel a tear form and drop to the floor.
Suddenly, hands made of burning psionics gripped his shoulders, and Jax's eyes flew open. Cronus was forcing him to kneel upright with two of His hands, and a third shot out from under His cloak and clamped down on Jax's chin. The seething resentment from Him only blazed harder as Jax was regarded with fury. "What. Was that."
Jax found himself lifted from the floor by his chin, dangling limply as he trembled hard. The grip on his shoulders and chin was crushing, but he knew he could not lift a single hand against Cronus. "WEAKNESS. I DID NOT TEACH YOU SUCH PATHETICNESS! YOU HAVE NOT LEARNED ANYTHING FROM YOUR LAST PUNISHMENT. DO YOU SEEK TO ANGER ME?! HAVE YOU LEARNED SUCH MASOCHISM FROM YOUR HEATHEN BROTHER?!"
Jax squeezed his eyes shut again, desperately trying to stem the tide of tears that threatened to drown him. He had never cried in front of the Elders before—just in the safety of his Priests, or Maria. But even as he tried to stop himself, his throat constricted and his next breath attempted at being a sob.
Cronus shook him, His grip burning harder. "ANSWER ME!"
The Warlock could only shake his head under the bare wrath of his Father, words failing him. It wasn't enough. Jax was lifted a bit more before being hurled forcefully to the ground, face pressing against the writhing, alien metal the floor was made of. He could feel the swell of power before it happened again.
The pillar of flaying energy hit his back in force, and quashed any notion of him even supporting himself under the barrage. It was hotter, tens of times more burning than the last time, feeling like it was searing him to his very soul. Jax's clawed gauntlets scraped against the ground, leaving nail marks around his emblem on his podium. He let out a guttural cry with the air that was being forced out of his lungs, tears drying up on his face from the sheer heat of the psionics bearing down on him.
Then, it split. One main pillar remained on his back—but sections of it parted, arcing around and striking his sides, his arms, his legs, even the back of his head. It was too much, all at once, so overwhelming. At this point, the scattered remnants of his thoughts disappeared from his mind, and the only thing he could process with clarity was the agony, of how each strike felt even worse than the last. His chest heaved, trying desperately to bring in air, his insides feeling like they were being scorched from how hot it was around him.
It was too much. It was too much. All Jax could do was desperately babble pleas to stop, to please stop, devolving into cries of it hurts. There was nothing else he could do; his muscles would not cooperate, and he couldn't even manage the stance he had before under the power of it. His back burned, so much, to the point that Jax was convinced that Cronus had burned right down to his bones.
All at once, it stopped. The power against his back dissipated. The hall was silent once more.
But Jax would not rise this time. He could still feel it, on his back. His skin still felt like it was cooking, almost bubbling from the aftershock. Jax took in a shuddering breath, silently sobbing it out. He pressed his gauntlets to his face, to hide the tears that once more came—but he knew that Cronus most likely saw them again. Punishment would come. Punishment was coming.
Yet... it did not. Jax waited for it, spurred into muteness. There was no more flaying, simply the silence of the hall and the vague register of the presence in front of him. He chanced, just for a second, to not perceive only his own pain. He could pick out... four distinct signatures in his mind's eye: Cronus, Odin, Helena, and Argus. Cronus's was still loud, still quaking with fury... but it was decreasing by the second. Argus seemed to be currently engaged with Him, the lone presence of Their signature standing out amongst the rest of the Elders. Were They... calming Him?
He did not have to wonder long. The focus of the Elders' presence shifted to him once more, and it was comforting. The sheer relief flowed through Jax and his next sob was audible, and he flinched, waiting for some kind of punishment.
Nothing. The Elders spoke—lead by Argus. "Warlock Tessura. Stand, if you can."
With shaking limbs and downcast eyes, Jax trembled into his usual kneeling position. He had to restrain every urge to hug himself for comfort, and kept his head down.
"Elder Cronus is only angry because He loves you, Jax-Rai." Argus's tone was soothing, and Jax found himself taking in the inflection of Their voice. They were a rarity among these meetings. Was the force of Cronus's punishment enough to draw Them here...? "Weakness is easily exploitable on the battlefield. XCOM would not hesitate to punish such, and it is why He becomes so heated. He does not wish to see you suffer at their hands! Do you understand?"
He didn't. He didn't at all. He did not understand how such a brutal display would at all fortify him against XCOM. It only seemed to exist to hurt him. Jax couldn't understand why Cronus would even do such a thing if He claimed to love him. But to say he didn't understand... that would undoubtedly seal his fate. Elder Argus was extending a chance, a rare moment of even interacting with any of the Chosen. If Jax chose to bat away this olive branch...
Jax nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I... I u-understand, Elder Argus."
The signature of the Elders further calmed, and there was silence. More comfortable, this time. Again, They seemed to be talking amongst Themselves—or maybe simply Argus to Cronus. Jax could only timidly wonder what was taking place. Until the Elders wished not to speak with him anymore, he was trapped where he was. But still, he found himself mulling over what They might be speaking about. Anything to forget...
He felt Their attention turn to him once more. "Your intentions to rescue your sister are noble, Warlock Tessura. If it further motivates you into reclaiming the Commander, consider it one of your goals. As for your brother..." Jax waited for Their tone to shift, but no such thing happened. Elder Argus remained level-headed. "I do not imagine he will be as privy as to returning to Our embrace. But, knowing his machinations, this may be a heavy smokescreen. Capture him, learn of his intentions, but if circumstances prove dire, do not hesitate in ending him. Is this clear?"
Jax nodded again. He did not think about what Elder Argus was saying. He merely heard, and nodded. He could not think. He had to forget.
Argus continued. "We shall begin looking into a method of preventing the device XCOM used on Assassin Neylor from working on you. We love you, Jax-Rai, and to see you fall as well to XCOM's prying hands would break Our hearts. Each meeting, each talk, every word We speak is Our love for you. You are Our eldest child, Our first blessing upon this Earth." The Elders' signature reached out and soothingly caressed him. Jax merely let Them do as They wished. "You are gifted. You are Chosen. You cannot fail."
The Warlock inclined his head in favor of nodding again. "You may go. We have much to discuss."
With that, he felt the pull of the Void. Much like the Elders' attempt at affection, he let it happen, feeling himself shifted and ushered away from the Meeting Hall, through the Void. The trip was short, and left him in his exact position, in front of his Sarcophagus. Silence hung in the air.
"Warlock Tessura...?"
That voice. Jax's eyes focused as he looked up, and at the end of his room stood Archbishop Maria, with more than a few Priests huddled around her. Though her face was covered by her helmet, her signature rang of concern that was matched by her sisters. She could probably feel the stress rolling off of him in waves. Perhaps she even felt his... his...
Punishment. Jax staggered into standing, trying desperately to walk forwards before collapsing to his knees, trembling. What had just happened hit him in force. The boiling, the flaying, the punishment.
There can be only one reason.
ANSWER ME!
Both phrases screamed across his consciousness and he was there again, under the fury of the Elders, his failures, his regrets, his wanting to do better, his pain his hurt his fear—
Signatures that were not the Elders crowded around him, with a brightly shining one right in front of him. Jax couldn't see for a moment or so, but when he regained his vision, Maria was in front of him. His other senses began to return; there was a pressure around his body—Maria was hugging him. His Priests were hugging him. His face was hot, his face was wet.
No. No more tears, tears were weakness. He wanted to wipe them away, do something to dispel them, but the Priests around him had hugged his arms to his sides. All Jax could do was mouth a silent "no" as more formed, streaming down his face. Why was he so weak? Why did he have to disappoint Them so? Was there nothing he could do right? Who was he if he could not do right by the Elders?
It was only then that he could feel his followers' psionic signatures pressing against his own, practically begging for access. Maria's Solace was washing against him, unable to calm his own signature with the walls he was putting up. To let them in... to let them know what had happened in the Meeting Hall would further disgrace himself to Them, wouldn't it? He couldn't handle being more of a failure. The tears surged. But he couldn't handle being alone even more. A childish part of him cried out at the thought of pushing them away, of telling them to leave him in peace.
He wanted comfort. He wanted somebody who would hold him and say it was ok. He wanted something the Elders would not give him.
Jax sobbed, and his walls came crashing down. He leaned forward, slumping into Maria, feeling as his gathered Priests—herself included—dipped into his signature, sampling the memories that threatened to consume him. He could finally hear the soft gasps that rang around him as his followers found out what had happened no less than five minutes ago.
Then, for the briefest of moments, anger flashed through their signatures. Jax tensed up and another sob wracked his body. "I'm sorry—!"
The group hug around him tightened and his Priests whispered hurried assurances that he hadn't done anything wrong, no, they were just... They couldn't complete the statement. To be angry at the Elders as one of their servants... It was unthinkable. Then again, Jax had thought cruelty of such magnitude was unthinkable, and he saw and felt what that had earned him.
Maria squeezed him in her embrace, one of her hands moving up to his hair and petting it. "Jax-Rai. You are here, you are safe. We want to help. Nothing bad is going to happen."
No. No, that was a lie. Bad things had happened, bad things were happening, bad things were going to happen. "Then why," he choked out, worming his arms free and clutching her, "why would Th-They do that? Wh-why would They hurt me? I didn't—I didn't do anything bad." His eloquence was gone, and he hadn't the mind to bring it back. "I just... Maria, it hurt, why..." Jax choked back a sob, giving up on speaking. His signature was a storm of negative thoughts and he fully collapsed against his Archbishop, shoulders heaving.
Maria's Solace pulsed, and he hiccupped, a bit of the edge being taken off the storm. He just wanted to be alright. This was terrifying. But... He had his Priests here. Maria moved her hand to the back of his head and pressed him against her chest, where Jax could hear her strong heartbeat. He focused on that. He was not in the Meeting Hall. He was here, surrounded by love. Love that was different than what... what the Elders had claimed They felt for him. This love was soft.
His next sob was quieter, and his hug on Maria went from less crushing to more self-reassuring. Maria carded through his hair. It was a while before she spoke, as if she was considering her words carefully. "You didn't," she decided on, softly. "You did not deserve such a thing."
Jax stopped in his sobbing. Did... Maria just speak against Them? At his silence, she continued. "To be flayed so brutally... your back is still searingly hot! Your armor has been warped!" Her heartbeat was speeding up. "Your skin... oh, by the Elders!" She reached out to the other Priests. "Sisters, please, forgive my heretical speaking, but this was not warranted! They know how badly it hurt him and yet... and yet They performed such cruelty again!"
The Priests were silent... but there was no dissent in their signatures. Jax felt a hand or two probe his back and quickly retreat. The burning hadn't stopped. "Archbishop Maria..." One of them began. "He... he might be wounded, we have to check the site. If They truly used such force against him..."
The other members of his congregation rallied around that. Jax was still hung up on what was happening—his tears were still flowing, but he'd stopped sobbing. Were the Priests—not only them, but his Archbishop—speaking out against what They had done? The storm was starting to break, but it still went on. His shoulders heaved and he took in a quick breath. "I... surely I deserve it if They did such a thing..."
He could feel Maria shake her head. "From what I—we have seen? You have done nothing but your best as one of the Elders' Chosen. I will not speak long on the topic if you do not wish me to, but..."
Jax didn't say anything to that, but he felt like he had to. The Elders had to do it for a reason. Now that the storm was clearing, rationality returned. Maybe... maybe it was a bit overkill, but he had spoken out against Cronus. All he had to have done was stay silent, and the meeting would have been short, and without punishment. There was still the matter of his back, and if the Elders' rage had been bad enough to warp the astral metal his armor was made of? "... my back."
"Right!" Maria held him closer, sending a short pulse to the other Priests. Soon they were at work undoing the clasps of his armor, peeling it off. He winced as the motion of pulling it away brought pain, and the Priests gasped once again. Maria tensed up. The room was silent.
Jax's breath stilled. It... it couldn't be that bad, yes? He was Chosen. Surely it was just mending before their eyes and they were marvelling at it, right? "Priests. What... what is the matter?"
Maria's signature thrummed with righteous anger. "... They have branded you. There is a wound covering your whole back and it is not regenerating. It is not bleeding, thank... thank the heavens, it's cauterized." One of her hands moved and swept aside his hair. "I and my sisters will do what we can, but..." Her anger cooled, replaced by quiet horror.
She spoke no more, her other hand pressing ever so lightly against his back. More joined it in various places, and he couldn't help but suck in a breath at the stinging. Their signatures swelled brightly and their psionics hummed as they were put to work. Led by Maria, they bound themselves together into one force, and Jax could feel the burning sensation beginning to abate, his skin crawling not unpleasantly as they were supposedly mending it.
He simply remained limp against Maria, closing his eyes and taking in deep breaths. The Elders... had done enough damage that his regeneration was, at the least, having trouble fixing him. It was taking the force of outside psionics just to make it right. But it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't spoken out against Them, he reminded himself. The Elders had Their reasons, and the prophecies he had heard in whispers in the past had spoken of a world-ending terror. Anything the Elders did was justified against total oblivion.
Anything They did was justified. He would simply have to bear the marks of his insubordination.
Eventually the calming tide of psionics over his back stopped. "We've done what we can," Maria began, "but... They have severely burned you. I do not think it will fully heal."
"That is understandable," he murmured flatly. "I acted out against Them. I spoke out of turn. I was lucky that They did not unmake me where I stood."
"Jax-Rai..." Maria swallowed. "My Chosen."
"I deserved it, Archbishop."
The room was quiet once again, none of his followers willing to speak out against them. He took in a calming breath, and sighed it out. "Bring me my lounge clothes. My armor is likely still scorching... but I shall still use it, as a reminder of my mistakes. I will wait until it has cooled." He gave Maria a weak squeeze, then uneasily moved to stand. The Priests backed off around him, rising as he did. He wasn't meeting anyone's gaze. A thought occurred to him, and he closed his eyes. "... if the Hunter is working with XCOM, it is likely that he will be sharing the location of my Stronghold with them. We may not get forewarning in the form of XCOM's scouts. We must prepare for an incursion at any moment."
He opened his eyes in time to see Maria nod. "What would you have of us, Warlock Tessura?"
He finally met her perceived gaze. Jax's shoulders slumped. "... you, and your sisters, will be somewhere safe when they invade."
Maria's postured stiffened. "My Warlock, surely you are not suggesting we are to sit on the sidelines as XCOM comes for you?"
"No, I am not suggesting it." He set his shoulders back and his gaze hardened. "I am commanding it. I will not have XCOM senselessly slaughter you all on their warpath to kidnap me. You have my expressed permission—and my orders—to hide."
"And if they take you?"
Jax looked past her, eyes unfocusing as the tension left his shoulders. "I would rather have all of you alive than dead. Understandably, my severance from the Network will affect every living Priest on it. You may seek to rejoin the Elders again, if you wish." He chuckled bitterly. "Or, if you seek capture to remain with me, approach XCOM if I have been taken."
Maria started to say something quite a few times—but then, all at once, she was calm, as if something occurred to her. Similarly, the Priests around her relaxed. She bowed deeply. "As you wish, my Chosen. We will stay safe when XCOM comes. If you have no more need of me, I shall go to making evacuation plans for when XCOM arrives."
"Other than my robes? You are free to leave, Maria."
She nodded, rising from her bow. Maria took the chestpiece of Jax's armor from the three Priests that had been holding it and walked back towards the platform, the rest of his followers trailing after her. He watched them leave, thoughts at a low hum.
He'd been punished. Branded. His Priests, his Archbishop were speaking heresy. Now, they were suddenly calm at being told to stand aside. Jax turned back towards his Sarcophagus, the otherworldly energies bleeding off of it, the ghost of his own form hanging in front of it. Something only his gifted senses could perceive, he knew. Even if he wished to leave...
He dashed his thoughts. There was nothing more to be done.
