Dan was led through the surprisingly well defended home of the Cultless. The guns, the barricades, the anti-ability ritual… it was all an incredibly comprehensive organisation for a group he’d thought were nothing but a bunch of poverty-ridden outcasts.
Not that the cultless and ‘the Cultless’ were entirely the same. One was just a general term for those forsaken by the cults and the other, apparently, was a proper faction hidden within the highest levels in the centre of Coral. It still wasn’t exactly clear whether they were a small, exclusive group… or actually coordinated all the people not part of a cult.
Given the less-than-stellar reputation they had, and Dan’s own experiences with some of the more… degenerate of their number, he imagined any governance they had was shaky at best. At least, beyond the borders of this Refuge.
In here, he doubted anyone would question their rule.
Well, none but the one giving them commands.
“What made you work with her?” Dan asked the man strangely named ‘Judge’.
For how old he was, it was impossible that he had no inflections, no evolutions. Especially considering it was becoming more and more apparent he was in charge around here. No unevolved would ever be in charge of anything. The name was fake. Dan didn’t need his Feat to know that.
Judge gave him a warm smile. It was welcoming, much like some of the caretakers of his ward. Any other day, he might have been wary. Those who reached any position of power — even if it was in charge of a bunch of cultless — would be hiding intentions that were filthy. K’tan had taught him that.
But after everything that had just happened… Dan was willing to just take everything at face value. It made things easier.
“She didn’t give us much of a choice,” the old man chuckled. “Honestly, things were quite tense at first. One of our own did something foolish and almost caused a disaster. But things turned out alright. The things Nyxalrai has us do aren’t too burdensome. Some are even things we probably should have put in place years ago.”
Dan quirked a brow at that. “Nyxalrai? Not N̪ỷx̱̽alr̘a͎i?” He shook his head. “It’s N̪ỷ̽x̱̽alr̘a͎ith now, anyway.”
“She had another evolution?” Judge’s eyes widened. “And to think we all thought Lys’ growth was quick. But no, we don’t use inflections here. Typically, those who join us will discard their name and adopt one unlinked to their soul. It is our way of shedding the inherent prejudice. On that note, you should consider choosing a name for yourself. Your acceptance into the Refuge is… less than ordinary, but I will have to insist on our customs. Even if she refuses them.”
Dan blinked. Again, the sensation felt strange.
“What do you know about N̪ỷ̽x̱̽alr̘… Nyxalraith?” After she’d dropped him off and gave him the most basic of introductions to Judge, she’d left again. Off to find Ari. But even without the crutch of his Feat, Dan felt Judge was treating the entire situation around Nyxalraith too lightly. Far too lightly.
The older man hummed as he side-eyed Dan, inspecting him. “I imagine what I know is much the same as you do. You were by her side as she walked through into our zone of suppression. Her mutations have not grown subtle since her first visit.”
“That’s all you know?” Dan pushed.
“Of course,” he started with a measured tone. “I have looked into her since her first arrival. I know that she is what the cults once called a ‘perfect sacrifice’. It was supposed to be theoretical… but mutations like that typically come packaged with Madness. No, not typically. Always. And yet, Nyxalraith exists.” Judge paused, the seriousness bleeding from his voice as he took on his more casual air once again. “But we don’t practice sacrifices here. She need not worry about us.”
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He didn’t know. Judge thought he knew, but he knew nothing about Nyxalraith. He didn’t know she had killed Solan. He didn’t know the Great Iris had descended for her. He didn’t know she was The Nightmare.
He didn’t know she was a God.
“There’s more, huh?”
Dan immediately schooled his expression. He was sure nothing had reached his face, but apparently not.
“Don’t worry, I won’t press.” Judge raised his arms in a placating manner. “She did tell me her end goal, and I don’t like to guess, but it is no secret the cults have been in turmoil these past months. This old mind does wonder.”
Not trusting himself to not accidentally reveal any secrets that a god might want hidden, Dan shifted the conversation away. “So what exactly is it that she has you working on? I wasn’t given much of a run down before she brought me here.”
Not that his mind had exactly been able to focus entirely on what she’d been saying while his whole world was flipping on its head.
“Mostly stockpiling supplies and intelligence collection.” Judge easily accepted the change in dialogue course. “Weapons, steel, candles, any ritual materials that the cults won’t miss, really anything we can get our hands on. Then there’s food. Nyxalraith’s goals, however exactly she wants to use us in her fight against the cults, will almost certainly require an extensive reserve for when we ultimately lose control of what little Biotowers we have. We are overcrowded at the moment. So long as the accretion storm keeps up, we won’t be able to save any food.”
“Oh. The storm is gone.”
“What?” Judge stopped, hands landing on Dan’s shoulders. “Just like that? I was sure it was building up to something tragic.”
“Yeah. The Cult of the Everseeing Eye was trying to summon the Great Iris.” Now that Dan had time to think about the events, he couldn’t help but feel rueful. The ceremony had been stained by irony. “They got exactly what they wanted… in the worst possible way.”
The upper creeds… Dan was certain they would have taken being slaughtered by the Everseeing Eye over the events that had actually transpired. At least then, they would have been acknowledged, in a fatalist sense.
Judge gave him a weary look. “Do I want to know?”
“You’ll hear about it anyway,” Dan said after a moment. “The Great Iris was summoned, but… it was friendly with ‘The Nightmare’ while being completely dismissive of the Cult of the Everseeing Eye.”
“I see…” The older man trailed off and they both basked in the obscenity for a minute. “That is good news then!” Judge finally decided. He waved at one of the uniformed soldiers that had been walking a few paces behind them, and sent him running. Likely to the surface to check the validity of Dan’s words.
It struck Dan again that he was talking to the leader of such a considerable group with such casualness. Apparently, being vouched for by Nyxalraith moved mountains for his social capital. Even if it made him uneasy.
“Well, we should get on with what your role will be going forward.” Judge’s words almost made him jolt. Dan still hadn’t been thinking about the future. So much was happening in the present to occupy his mind that the idea of being assigned a role caught him off-guard. “As I was saying, the latter task of working with Nyxalraith requires collecting information. I believe, considering your familiarity with her already, it best for you to act as liaison. You will be in contact with a few intelligence officers and will relay the network’s information to Lys, or Nyxalraith herself. Good luck.”
With a suddenness that almost tripped Dan up, Judge nodded with finality, turned, and left.
Dan gaped after the Cultless leader as he was left alone in an unfamiliar place with no idea how he was supposed to start on the task he’d been given. His eyes eventually trailed to the sides, taking in the cramped rows of living quarters rising far over his head and the thousands of people mingling about. He felt like he was being watched. He was sure he stuck out like a sore thumb, after all, but he never actually found anyone whose eyes stayed on him.
Not until he was approached by a pair of men wearing the most common black robes you could find.
“Dan?” they asked. When he nodded, they turned. “Follow us.”
In less than an hour, his entire world had changed. His home, his life, his future, all of it was completely up in the air now that Nyxalraith had whisked him away from the promise of a worthwhile, if unconscionable position in the Cult of the Everseeing Eye. Despite that, he found himself incredibly relieved that he had kept his eyelids. His deep-seated fears that he’d spent months shoving to the bottom of the deepest well had no need to rear their head.
At least here, he wouldn’t have to give parts of himself up. And for that, he was grateful.
As he followed the two through the more lived-in spaces and up to a more industrial area, Dan felt the ever consistent pang of loss as his name was locked away.
Somehow, he didn’t think he would be able to evolve any time soon.