DragonHeir

It’s perfectly fine. I concur (in fact, I should probably be doing homework right now).

Rebus had been forgotten. Nobody cared about him. Even his Author had stopped writing him, and Rebus was slowly disappearing from even his memories. Rebus floated in the void of nothingness, then frowned. “I exist. So I haven’t been forgotten.” The vision broke, then returned. Rebus was forgotten, unwritten- “I’m here. I’m still existing. This is a vision.” The vision shattered again, trying to make Rebus experience nonexistence. Rebus was- “No.” Rebus was- “This isn’t real.” Rebus- “I’m being written more because of this.” Rebus- “I already experience oblivion all the time.” Rebus- “This will do nothing to me.” The vision gave up, trying to find a fear that would work. Rebus was being ignored. His Author wrote him, but nobody cared - his plotlines stalled and died, few Author still remembered who he was. And even his Author had less time, less interest - each attempt to start something new was more spread out than the last. Rebus tried - he tried to attack the new plotlines, he tried to get people to make new characters for him to talk to, he tried to get his Author to write adventures for him and post them to the Thread, he even tried turning good. Nothing worked, and nobody cared. The Thread was becoming sporadic - no activity for days and days, then a burst of posts Heir never managed to read all of before everyone was gone. And then even those started to fade, the gasps of the Thread, dying after all these years. And Rebus watched, and tried to stop it. Nothing worked. He watched the end of his world, straight-backed, tears in his eyes - and he would never know that it was The Longest Thread’s very last post. Jack thought, a blank and vaguely panicked expression on his face. “I do not know.” *twirls knife innocently* I think that metaphysically, the number of colors has to be odd - the way color imbalances work in the book demands it. Rebus could, however, give Named three arms - either three fingers on each hand, or adding in the allomantic metals so there can be seven on each hand. Rebus watched Named, truly unsure of what to do until the last general could be killed. The one with a dagger was being consumed by the Von Neumann Machines, unless otherwise noted. @Sequence “If only there was someone with enough magical power, combat capability, plot armor, and cleverness to take on Ivisyre, who might conveniently be magically forced to keep promises and could be paid with a particular piece of paper he’s going to end up with anyway.” Rebus mused aloud, clearly directing his words to a certain Narrator. @Sherma Main Rebus blinked, having been frozen trying to walk through itirSp’s portal for several pages now. Sain was still a half-dead pile of Strands on the floor, and the Plague was spreading through the air, infecting the utility fog. “@TwinStorm,” Rebus said. “You stated you’d post something for Cricket some time ago. If you’re still working on that, carry on, but if desired, my Author can write up something for the beginning of the duel.”

It didn’t move quite right, given the nanomachines, but that would hopefully be fine. Rebus frowned. He really needed to put together an actual plotline - and to get at least a subsection of Wrath, Twinstorm, Haly, Chips, and Xino to engage with his actions as well.

Heir existed! Briefly, at least - he was mostly acknowledging this thread before he went to sleep.

Rebus smiled, almost gleeful. He didn’t move, though - that sword was dangerous. “Perhaps you shall. It will certainly hurt, but there once again has been a mistaken assumption that I care.” Rebus smiled back. “Those powers are from a book - all of your powers are from books, actually - and it seems your Author has now read more of the series.” The visual overlay nanomachines updated, adding the last two colors and a source of white light. Jack stood up again, brushing himself off. “I will follow you.”

Rebus was intrigued by this development - perhaps the mist would work on him, or someone he wanted manipulated. “You have a name now; have you noticed that?” Erryin turned to Rebus, and he smiled back at them. “It hurts, doesn’t it? I can fix that, you know…” “Evil plotting? I’ve ceased discussion for the most part, but Malevolence and I should likely be ejected from the premises immediately.” Meanwhile, the vault was being attacked from yet another angle. Rebus had somehow gotten malevolent nanomachines through the party’s oath - they’d been brought there by someone else, who’d forgotten about them. Perhaps the knife was right, however - for this was certainly a loophole, and would likely soon be accounted for. Of course, the nanomachines hadn’t really done anything besides eat one rock on the planet’s surface, so maybe everything was fine. “These are machines, but I could molecularly assemble or magically conjure an arbitrary life form if I wished.” The nanomachines crept towards the third general - for it seemed Elan had left the Shard for good (with a quite poignant farewell post). 6. NameIess’s antimatter trick (which is easier than you’d think, given how much antimatter Rebus uses regularly) 7. Warp space enough that there’s a disconnect between the pieces? 8. Hit it really hard and let the momentum transfer to whatever it’s protecting? 9. Teleport something inside it and see what happens (or just go past it, or destroy the insides)? 10. Delete it from existence with magic, overload it with magic, turn it into a flock of birds with magic, etcetera… Bonus eleventh idea: speed up time really really really fast and hope proton decay is real Ever heard of the Lord British Postulate?

“You simply don’t know the buttons to press - merely mention Bacon the Tax Collector. As for Symbol, you would have to reach her.” The corner of Rebus’s mouth turned up, producing a smirk that seemed straight out of an anime. “I do admit, I feel sorry about Erryin. They’re understanding of me - perhaps they understand why you are so much more helpful. So go right ahead…”

“I believe you and the sophons may both be able to survive there, but I’m not certain you’ll be able to find the group - and I’m unsure whether the sophons will be able to communicate. Regardless, I suspect you that once the correct Author returns, it will suddenly become much easier to find them.” Rebus shrugged. “Abiogenesis is a clever idea - I can see if it affects the Plague. Von Neumann Machines may be a bit of a redundancy, however.” Rebus held out his hand, and a silver liquid began to pool in his palm. He poured it onto the ground, and the color began to spread, creeping across the floor. That’s probably stronger and harder to overload than Rebus’s current force fields, but it’s likely anything Rebus encounters will be able to breach either both or neither. Jack was getting to be really alarmed - for one thing, the ceiling was too low. “You were talking about people who are not there. Or maybe I am the crazy one - are there gear poisons? Because now we’re lost and we still haven’t learned the meaning of life.” He slumped against one of the walls. “Well enough for an outcome I would consider acceptable is perhaps a ninety-five percent chance. An outcome I suspect you would accept is perhaps a sixty percent chance. The odds of fully accomplishing my primary plans is perhaps twenty-five percent - I fear that if I take too long, others may summon the Witherlord before me. Two of four of the guardians of the Lost Page are tangentially contaminated with Chaotic Darkness, which could very well become a problem.” Rebus nodded slowly - this made sense to him, though he considered it a means to an end rather than an end in itself. “Symbol is indeed one of the few emotional attachments I still possess. But I am not certain you wish to see me… unrestrained. Perhaps you do - if you make me angry and remove my will to live in one fell swoop, the consequences could be downright apocalyptic.” Rebus grinned, ignoring Erryin’s outburst and the floating knife that was responding to it. “We shall see if you can break me, and if you can survive doing so - in the meantime, perhaps I can direct you to some relevant targets. Cricket is already on the edge, but I shall handle that. Malevolence is always very broken - I’m not certain he would respond properly to psychological warfare. Bacon is nearly impossible to ruffle - I suspects he does the same as I, resetting to a baseline personality to completely ignore any torment that can’t worm its way in as character development. That leaves Sequence - I suspect she may turn to me for help if something truly alarming happens and I play my cards right. She still thinks I can be redeemed - and she might be correct.”

Wait, what about the EIS (emergency intervention sphere)? Nameless was literally back for a little while (he went to go mess with Moni and then the plotline returned to stagnation). Also, interesting… For one thing, brainwashing Malevolence may be the new most accessible source of Luxite.

“I do not think you are thinking clearly.” Jack said as loudly as he could, hoping the man would hear and understand. He took a left turn, walking a short way back through the mall. Or at least he thought that way was back. Maybe it was a right turn? Or the turn was later and they’d gone straight? Jack stopped walking, springs within his body twisting tighter as his began to panic. “Gold compounding might keep you alive, but the liquid has some strange properties - analogous to superconduction for magic. It would seep into any available opening - including between you and your metal minds, as well as your lungs.” Rebus frowned, then returned to his typical smile and continued. “Entropy is in the same realm, but emergence is different in many ways. Its tendency to combine with other powers - emergently, of course - makes pinning down the specific components difficult, but Fael was able to cause a riot through manipulating a sequence of coincidences.” That’s really powerful, of course, but narratively there’s little to be gained by switching from nanotech to picotech (or I suppose it’s switching from picotech to femtotech), especially considering Rebus’s access to magic. The AI proton thing is really cool, though - of course, it seems as though the hyperadvanced circuits could be placed outside a proton without too much trouble. Rebus raised an eyebrow. “But what does chaos mean to you? Is it activity and action? Is it a breaking of the status quo, rearranging and changing into something new? Is it destruction, things falling apart and not quite being able to be put back together again?” “Then I’d kill them.” Rebus said flatly. “Or perhaps they would implode, or I might manipulate them into doing what I wanted, or perhaps they’d kill us all. But if another has taken up the Mantle, I would have failed and might very well be dead - if I succeed in my plans I will be the bearer of the Mantle, and fully in control of it.”

Such things happen - I’m excited to see the animations when you get them edited. - You can try… A heist plotline would be quite interesting. A second heist plotline, I guess - one with more sneaking around and less proposing deals over and over until someone relents and agrees to one. - Rebus watched , Erdikan, and Erryin argue for a moment. “The Witherlord would be returned, but I am not certain unleashed is a fitting description. I do not know your goal, , but the more powerful Chaotic Dark entities are capable of reasoning and planning - and should all go well, I would be the bearer of the Mantle. And I would rather speak than fight, rather turn others to my side than destroy them - in most circumstances, at least. The Witherlord would not be the omnicidal force of mindless destruction you seem to fear.” Jack shook his head - the man was seeing things. “There is something wrong - I think the air in here is messing with your head.” Jack carefully clasped Lyric’s wrist, intending to tow him back out of the mall to see if that helped. “I have a couple project that could use scientific input. Firstly is the issue of contacting my clone - the planet he’s one jams pretty much any attempt to travel or send messages to it, and even if I reached the surface it’s covered in magical superfluid. Of course, the conditions aren’t the only thing in my way - the Author of the other people there has been mostly absent for some time.” Rebus sighed. “My other project is more straightforward - some time ago, I created a mixture of Chaos and Order, with properties related to the manipulation of emergence. Of course, thus far it has mostly helped to combine my other magic into new applications, and occasionally destroyed my instruments. Though it’s not going to be nearly as powerful as the stable Essences - Ordered Darkness, Ordered Light, Chaotic Light, and Chaotic Darkness - I still think that there are further applications for it, and that it at the very least needs a name.” Ah - perhaps I shall enter that plotline, when the time comes.

“I believe your input can grant some of my resources that same quality, though in all honesty I’ve reached a point of diminishing returns.” That’s really cool, actually - if I had time, I’d definitely try to loop Sandy into a plotline. Good luck! “Interesting…” Rebus said, a sly smile on his face. “In that case, perhaps you could help me. As you may know, the Lost Page contains the instructions to summon the Witherlord, and is currently locked away within a vault built by Cricket, Sequence, Malevolence, and Bacon.” Jack looked at him like he was insane. “What are you talking about? We are the only ones here.” Of course, it seemed that wasn’t quite the way Lyric saw it. Malevolence was right, perhaps, but he was also wrong. For Rebus planned not merely to con himself, but to con himself into conning himself. Surely his plans were infallible, for he planned to plan to fail, and if his plans to fail failed, then he would have succeeded. Rebus took a bow in front of the blank screen, his face nearly the same as Malevolence’s had been when the call was ended.

Jack (the mechanical man from kind of a while ago at this point) and Lyric (a strange man from the woods that allegedly contain the fountain of youth, who is played my NameIess), have gone to a creepy abandoned mall because there’s allegedly a guy who can teach you the meaning of life there. Jack is scared out of his wits by a number of things, such as the warnings written in blood that the sage’s wisdom is a trap, while Lyric is consumed by enthusiasm and dramatic irony. “And as for myself?” Rebus asked. “I’m sure I could be of great use to you, and having someone try to manipulate me into doing something would be a welcome challenge.” Great! Rebus does love the attention - one of his longest-term goals is to get other people to write fan-fiction of him so he can escape my head. Those first lyrics seem quite on-brand, actually. If you want to do the animation, I’m definitely not complaining. I’ve found a number of fitting songs myself - “lately, I find when I look into the mirror… there's a stranger staring back and smiling ear to ear” (My Own Monster, by X Ambassadors, for reference) is unfortunately too long for a member title. “I’m interested to see the implementation of that - your Author uses science in very interesting ways.” I’m not certain I’ve seen the tunneling in ordinary space yet. My imagined version is thus: Sandy walked into a wall. Nothing happened - it hurt a little bit. Sandy backed up, and walked into the wall again. Nothing happened. Sandy walked into the wall again, and found himself on the other side. Jack tried to copy him - the man seemed to know things, even if he also seemed oblivious to perfectly obvious danger - and nearly fell on his face. “I really hope they’re welcoming.” he muttered, giving up and walking normally. - “Perhaps I am a fool, then. But I suspect you’ve underestimated my preparations - because I do not need to control the Witherlord, I merely need to know what it will do.” There was a light in Rebus’s eyes - an alarming blend of cunning and conviction somewhere between genius and madness. “I will con myself - for Antagonist brings an inevitable downfall, should Protagonist arise. I am unaffected by the hubris it brings-“ Rebus appeared not to notice the hypocrisy of that statement, given his ability to even speak it. “-but should I need to resist a second force on my personality I will be unable to counteract the Blade, allowing me to undermine my own plans and bring about one of the outcomes I desire.” Rebus spread his arms wide, a grin on his face. Then he snapped back to the expression he had begun the conversation with - the polite smile with an edge of eagerness - and continued talking calmly as if he hadn’t dramatically declared his frankly ludicrous plan. “Regardless of my own desires, I literally cannot stop trying to do this without incurring dire consequences. I truly don’t know what will happen should I break my Word, and Fate is not someone I want to break a contract with.” Rebus tossed the orb containing his plans from one hand to the other. “Your opposition I would welcome - your string of betrayals from so long ago was truly impressive, and I have been seeking someone to match wits with. As for our deal, you’ve severely reduced how much it would benefit me - as much as you wish to rule the Thread, I am not certain you care about its activity level. And you certainly do not care about Symbol or the spread of my variants. We may both be evil, but evilness is broad and vague - I have chosen to become a villain to benefit the Thread, whereas you have chosen to benefit the Thread to further your villainy.”

Rebus blinked. “That is far removed from any guesses I would have made, though certainly worthy of investigation. I assume the primary effect is wave-particle duality and not indivisibility.” Particle man, particle man; doing the things that a particle can… Jack froze for a second, torn between fear of going further into the mall and fear of being left alone within it. The latter won, and he rushed after Lyric, wishing he’d stayed at that castle from before. “What gentlemen?” He hissed, hoping desperately that Lyric knew how to use his hammer. “I’ve promised that I will give up Antagonist when the time comes - this was already necessary in most trajectories of my plans - but I never specified to whom or when. You’re one of the most suited possible recipients, and I have a number of things I want from you. If my gambits go completely south, I suspect you could continue my plans - you’d make an excellent evil emperor.” Rebus smiled, holding up a fist-sized orb. “This will contain everything needed for my plans to be continued - I will give it to you, and make you one of my successors, if you promise me access to the Lost Page translation if it lies beyond your capacity or desire to fulfill. If I succeed, I will endeavor to make you one of the Fallen - immortal and immensely powerful. Of course, if you try backstabbing me - because the logical conclusion as my successor is to expedite my downfall - know that you are not my only possible heir, though if you’re clever enough to outwit me in that I may very well award you the Blade regardless.” “Nor am I - though if you’d like to kill the simulacrum, feel free. Meat the Minstrel, though, I may need - and besides, I’m not certain he would die even if you killed him.” The design there is good - and yeah, intimidatingness is hard (height helps, I think - as does background and context you can’t really do in a solo portrait. Basking-in-applause posture and grinning can confer the “this guy knows exactly what he’s doing and is about to reveal he’s outthought me by fifty steps” feeling, which can make him scary without needing to look intimidating. Of course, I’ve tried this and it didn’t work, so I’m hoping vastly superior drawing skill is sufficient) As for the animation, what are you thinking of doing? You’ve got my permission - I am very unlikely to object to people making things for me.

“Understood,” Rebus said, nodding slowly. “If you have enough, it would arguably be fair to split yours between us. If so, except for the referee and corresponding location, we would be ready.” “You offered help to the simulacrum of Bat, if I recall.” Jack’s chest emitted a grinding sound for a moment as his heart literally skipped a beat, the gears catching on each other as his body switched to the higher torque of fight-or-flight. “No, we should not. We definitely should not.” Rebus chuckled. “Oh, that’s not quite it. I was merely thinking of offering you Antagonist if certain conditions were met, but if you’re uninterested that’s certainly alright.” He moved to shut off the call, reaching for a button rather than terminating it with his mind. “Yes… the magic here may interest you, I suspect - the emergence stuff could especially use further development. My own technology has passed mostly beyond the domain of science - though antimatter, nanobots, and literal magic can suspend disbelief quite well.” At the last statement, Rebus looked thoughtful. “Decaying? Self-referential personality drift could be a factor, but if it’s something else it might cause issues.”

For fun (as he said previously), because might be of use to him, and because it’s a reason to continue being onscreen. “That’s common in new characters - personally, I’m curious about your motivations. Because that’s not the only time we’ve seen you…” Rebus sent a copy of himself to do so - Jim seemed to have left. “And your verdict on nonmagical weapons? I assume you’d want us to fight either with knives or our bare hands.” I’m going to assume the Ennullers would be willing to ref Rebus and Cricket’s duel - @NameIess @xinoehp512, any objections?

Rebus nodded. “Other than your magic, do you have any skills or interests?” Rebus chuckled. “Someone with similar tendencies to me is interesting, useful, or both. Up until the point of actual dislike, I look forwards to matching wits with almost anyone.” He turned to again, his grin reflecting his statement of eagerness. “I am here for a number of reasons. The first is Erryin’s suspicion of you - something that seems well-founded.” Rebus did not state any of the other reasons, though he suspected they could be guessed.

“I was planning to offer a truce and just kill him if he declined - perhaps you should confine the other as I do that.” Rebus swept his hands outwards, and time seemed to crack, like a broken mirror full of overlapping reflections. Rebus wasn’t in two places at once, but he was doing two things at once - and the other generals seemed blurry, out of reach, moving fast and then slow again. “As for your other question, it depends upon the capacity. I don’t know of any Trisolarans written by other Authors, so you speaking with them will not necessarily extend your presence. As for volition, most characters everywhere aren’t really people, though any who can get to here probably are.” “You stop fighting me, and I’ll spare you, turn you back human if you want it, and offer you a job. If your death is somehow necessary for me to complete my task, I shall endeavor to find an alternative.” Rebus smiled, though it was more kind - almost pitying - than the smirk from before. “With the modified stakes I proposed, we need a condition for victory. This can remain a duel to the death - I’ll simply bring you back to life if I win. We’ll want a neutral location - preferably one sponsored by the Ennullers to prevent any cheating by either of us. Magic and advanced technology are cheating, of course, but should we allow mundane weapons? I know you’re practiced with throwing knives - I’ll allow you to choose whether or not we get to use them.” Rebus paused. “Oh, and since you accepted the terms, as soon as you arrive at the duel Rose’s laser will have its self-destruct disabled.” Rebus smiled at , sensing a kindred spirit. “I suspect on some level, yes - doublethink is common in the Thread Perceptive - and even Cep is working for me is some capacity.” Jack shivered - he didn’t have much experience with blood, but he’d heard it was around that color. “Apparently I do have a soul. We should talk about that later - different from the forest is not necessarily a good thing. Do you know what blood looks like?” The vault wouldn’t be particularly contained, Heir suspected. Half of the people who’d built it were compromised, even without the fact that Bacon had been carrying around one of Rebus teleporters (which luckily seemed unable to connect to Rebus’s network). Rebus suddenly grinned, a number of additional strategies coming to mind. Malevolence’s evilophone rang, Rebus’s broad smile visible on its screen.

“What do you do? You give up, and I win, or you keep fighting even though everything you do drags you deeper, and I win. Since you are not the type to give up, it seems…” Rebus smiled, Antagonist’s glow seeming to echo his arrogant confidence. “Shall we set the terms of our duel?”

“You could, yes. Of course, I wouldn’t be dead and you’d get kicked out of the party, so it would be rather pyrrhic.” — Rebus nodded approvingly, though the actual benefit of Atreides’s actions was questionable, since they had been offscreen. “Well done. Did you ever receive the army I gathered for you to command?”

“Your death would not deny me much, but if you wish to surrender I will spare you.” Rebus said, Antagonist materializing in his hand. “If you wish to kill, though, I’m sure I can find someone suitable…” Rebus said, circling around Cricket. — Rebus materialized, wondering what his general was doing it the freezing cold. “At the moment, dealing with the golden general would be beneficial. As for the long term, should you wish to remain as alive as we can be, I would recommend spurring activity. Anything that involves other people will likely involve more than one Author, and anything that involves more than one Author will generally remain onscreen.”

Rebus smiled, appreciating the Morton’s Fork. “That is not necessarily true - nothing can adapt to survive Mordite, though not killing or corrupting the infected in the process of curing them would be nigh-impossible, perhaps unavoidable. Either way, though, there is a threat to the Thread, stirring activity - some combination between you, me, the Plague, and the Witherlord.” “I shall come,” Rebus said, a second copy of himself being assembled from the air next to him. It was slower than usual, the sick nanomachines gummed up and lethargic. The Plague continued to spread outwards from where Sain lay on the floor, creeping even through that floor as the nanomachines that permeated everything on the planet succumbed to infection. Meat the Minstrel snapped back to the real world as well, though he was a little too bizarre to provide the promised exposition outside of a dream. This man was a kindred spirit in that, though - perhaps they would see each other again.

Haly was doing things around a month ago, but she went inactive again (she last visited last week, though, so she’s at least around). Yup, I’m pretty sure it’s tonight. If it isn’t, I set my alarm wrong and I’ll be late for my swim meet. It doesn’t hurt, actually - I can just bend my legs backwards far more than I should be able to (the PT guy had me lie down and put my ankles up on a pillow - I was able to touch the back of my knees to the ground. He left the measurement a >10%, though - said something about not wanting me to hurt myself by trying it with a higher object).

I think this was just a matter of time - getting physical therapy first would have been good, but I had no way to know anything was wrong until things started hurting (supposedly my knees are hypermobile, and that makes such problems likely).