Through the Living Heir

“I have fairly vast magical and technological power - should you wish to do favors for me in exchange for limited rewards, I can likely grant any request. For long term employment, in addition to those rewards, I would grant you powers and privileges for as long as you worked for me - anything you would logically need or reasonably desire.” Rebus smiled, though he understood power may not sway someone with such a plurality of abilities already. “And if you wished to leave, if it were on good terms, you could live as a citizen of my empire - the planets directly under my control are post scarcity, and should one desire struggle there are planets set aside for their significance, which have had lesser interference. You could also live outside it, though that location would eventually become within my empire.” “There are three Authors that might qualify: Haly, Xino, and TwinStorm. Even if it is not needed, getting them to return would likely be beneficial for many of the Thread’s plots.” “I likewise enjoy conversations and meeting new people, though I suspect an understanding of the world may be more accessible than you think.” Rebus shrugged, still smiling. “I have a general idea of who you are - is there anything you wish to know about me?” A wisp of utility fog, almost completely invisible, drifted to Cade’s ear and quietly spoke in Rebus’s voice. “I know you want to protect Asher, but should you really be afraid? I am not unreasonable - surely you understand the value of a bit of chaos, especially when channeled in the defense of the ones you love.” Jack looked a little sheepish. “Mostly, I am simply lost. Even if you did show me the way out of this forest, I am not sure where I would go.” Rebus frowned, comparing his own records with those his utility fog sensors could read off the clipboard. “I could have sworn I had one - I’ve even sent a variant of myself into another thread, though that was sadly short-lived. If that is unavailable somehow, I could certainly file another at the same time as whatever comes of Symbol’s.” I’m honestly not sure what happened there - I thought I had a whole conversation with Xino about the Wall and who the Ennullers allow out.

“Of course, but whom among them would be both important enough to the plot that my Author would wait, while simultaneously unable to do anything now?” Rebus returned the bow, though it approached the bow of a performer rather than a bow of respectful greeting. “Being in two places at once is a very useful skill - once one gains such an ability, it begins to seem relevant to more and more circumstances. But of course, that question is not why you came to speak with me.” “I’m sure you do believe that - I have much the same motivation, though perhaps with a difference motivation. As for the party, I derive the same amount of enjoyment from dancing as I do from walking across broken glass.” Rebus smiled cheerfully, eyes twinkling in a way a bit too literal to be natural. “Talking is much better than either of those, of course - which is one of the reasons this is an excellent opportunity.” “You are certainly here for a reason, but I do not see cause to avoid my employment it that reason - after all, if I cannot reach a peaceful resolution I am fairly certain I will have to kill you to continue.” Jack nodded. “I am. Gears, mostly - I do not know much of how I truly function.” “Perhaps we shall,” said Rebus to the place where the smoke had disappeared from. “Perhaps we shall.” Rebus grinned at the man. “I am indeed Rebus - Dr. Rebus Honesty Clarke, to be exact. I know quite well that I am not allowed to leave-“ words written in orange light blossomed around Rebus, displaying a number of forms, recognizable as Ennuller paperwork. Corroborated by any records this man could dig for, Rebus had apparently filed an antagonist permit (stating he would not attempt to destroy the Thread or the Wall, but mandating a lack of Ennuller intervention as long as that continued to be the case), a permit to use exotic versions of the fundamental substances (for which automated reports of his use of Chaotic Order were being sent), and a permit to have versions of himself without Narration leave the Thread. “-which is why the version of myself that intends to is not a Narrator. Symbol, we shall see - for unrelated reasons, I am forbidden from revealing the true nature of the Thread to her.” Xino’s post at the end of page 4009 would be the best place to see these - I can’t seem to quote the entire conversation, and (though we are waiting on Xino still) don’t need to seen a notification.

Jack looked at Lyric’s rather knightlike outfit and shivered. “Hopefully you are right. At least I am safe - and if you do not actually seek the fountain, you are as well.” Rebus smiled at that, seeming unaffected by the frightful visions. “That lack of Protagonist does represent a problem… When it is found, though, could be an incredible range of situations. I do not make promises lightly, but know that I do plan to give up this Plotblade when the time comes.” “I can only think of three reasons something would have to happen before I leave: someone might be intended to come with me, someone might be intended to stop me, or something that needs Symbol or that version of me is intended to happened. The first option - someone coming with us - is unlikely, because this will certainly not be the only opportunity to leave the Thread. The second and third options, though, are plausible; either someone might try to stop us, or someone might need one of us - presumably Symbol, since copies of me shall remain here - for something before we can leave. So I’m wondering, mostly rhetorically, who would want to stop me or need Symbol.” A copy of Rebus formed next to Asher, a friendly smile on his face. “Indeed - and you are Asher?” Ah - so everything Rebus is attempting to do has no chance of working. Good to know. Wait, why did 18142 do that? “Ah,” Rebus said, accepting that information and adjusting without pause. “If you agreed to work for me, I would give you a job you want and would be good at. Maintaining an interplanetary empire is a lot of work, even without the other things I do.” Not in the slightest - time shifts even in universe based on Author available and time skips, so the only way to measure time consistently and accurately is by pages. One could, of course, keep track of days and try to enforce that, but currently a character could speak to some people, leave on a week long journey, and return to find the people they were speaking to having only said a few more sentences.

Jack nodded back. “Why do so many believe it is here, then?” Rebus faced the smoke, unperturbed. The voice seemed familiar, Rebus thought, as did the smoky pillar. “Many would agree with you. But, for me and for the Thread, is there truly a better option? This is needed, even if you do not realize it yet.” Rebus raised an eyebrow. “Then your Author is influencing you, changing your decisions without your knowledge. Observe:” Unrelatedly, Dramatic Irony would be a very fun Plotblade. “Either someone is supposed to follow me, or someone is supposed to stop me. The former feels unlikely - there are other ways and other opportunities. Who has plans for or a connection to Symbol and I, who would need one or both of us to remain?” Rebus smiled at Asher, seeming quite friendly and harmless should his reputation and clothing be forgotten.

“Yes… I can get near the planet, but my ships begin to explode once they reach a certain point. They have a teleporter with them - Keys is her name - and could leave at any time. My Author seems to be meddling with the timing - I suspect he’s waiting for someone.” Rebus chuckled, watching this play out. Asher would speak to him in time, he suspected - especially since, as far as he knew, Cade still worked for him.

Invention reflected idly, still watching ripples travel across the lines of Laykium dust. Destroying the clusters of Investiture he could see within the supernova would be catastrophic for their surroundings - and yet his power yearned to try it. Not anywhere important, of course - but to connect to a planet and then break its very soul? That was impressive, and perhaps useful.

I did not expect you to - that comment was mostly towards anyone hypothetically reading all of the Thread as it is being written. As they reappeared, Rebus exploded slightly, antimatter teleportion missing its intended location and frying a number of his nanomachines. While Rebus reconstituted his body, the dynessence began to flow off of Erryin as it evaporated into light and sound, then nothingness. “That is not the reason for my morality, nor truly much of a demonstration of it. I didn’t expect you to immediately teleport there, and this did serve a function to demonstrate the actual issues a retrieval attempt might face.” Rebus, careful to observe through his Author’s mind rather than with Narration, watched Erryin end up within another reality. “Once again, immediately teleporting somewhere without any research can cause problems. That’s where Lezterp would take Symbol and I, actually.” This was all very interesting and somewhat ominous, but Pilot was unable to witness it. Rebus did, but he had nothing to say or do beside watch and wait. Pilot, taking a new false face from its bag and putting it on, strode out of the alleyway. “The fountain of youth?” Jack asked, sounding just as surprised as Lyric. “What would one do with all that time?” Kion was, Heir had decided, already at the party. The promise of nonviolence from the 3000 page party could remain in effect, clearing up any problems. Meanwhile, the Render was nowhere to be found. Let me try again - in the endless plain, the Render was not seen or found. Banes for the disease and bug Horrors (whose names I forgot) - if Named had been originally killed by one of those two, he’d be turned back into a human upon contact with it. The humans I’m referring to were the minion skeletons who were killed by Shadow - light (the respective Bane) turned them back into very confused ordinary people. “You were killed by a Horror - a creature representing something specific and generally considered bad. Darkness, disease, sorrow… The Horrors serve a being or beings generally recognized as an evil deity - who can, regardless of their actual nature, be found beyond that door. You’ve been brought back to life as a skeleton to guard it, but by invoking the weakness of whichever Horror killed you, you can be returned to your original state.” Rebus gestured at the humans scattered around the room, most of whom seemed very confused. “Those people were skeletons killed by Shadow, the Horror of Darkness. Its weakness, perhaps predictably, is bright light - you may have seen me shine enough light on them to turn them back.” “As for you,” Rebus said, expending a little more Narration from the budget he’d allotted himself. Time seemed to lurch, Rebus’s fairly lengthy explanation somehow fitting in the moment before Named could act. “-I want your allegiance for a number of reasons. The first is your capabilities - you have a number of interesting abilities, including one from a universe outside the ones this world typically draws from. The second is your role - you’re important, special in a way you may someday comprehend. The third is that I like you - your meticulous examination of my capabilities was somewhat endearing and many other things about you remind me of myself.” Rebus was wearing his armor, though it seemed more elaborate than normal. The plates were black, white, and grey, as usual, but they fit together in futuristic patterns that drew the eye upwards, towards the dark crown Antagonist. The purple glow between the armor’s seams varied in shade, and the cape was longer and had edges embroidered with hexagons. Rebus was smiling broadly, a mixture between excitement and arrogance that may have itself been carefully calculated. “I myself have - I am extant, which is excellent. This party is more of a boon than I had expected. But I have noticed what you did - crucial Authors became absent at crucial moments, and activity had stagnated.”

This was from earlier - Rebus, Keys, and Symbol wore diving helmets so that the superfluid wouldn’t immediately flow into their lungs.

The Narration twisted as the very fabric of the Thread seemed to vibrate, throwing it off course. Erryin appeared in the sea of dynessence, which immediately began to flow up Erryin’s nose and mouth. The only thing visible was its iridescent light, blindingly bright as the liquid crept underneath Erryin’s eyelids, and the whole world seemed to be full of ringing. And that is what the helmets were for.

“If this was a normal situation, it would be trivial to retrieve them. Unfortunately, this isn’t simply interesting worldbuilding or a callback to experiments that have likely been forgotten completely by everyone but my Author,” Rebus declined sitting in the other chair, though he agreed that recent pages had been trying. “Instead, dynessence is a silver bullet. My Author is stalling - the planet is covered in a substance designed to mess with me. Any attempts to teleport near it end up wildly off course - if you don’t care where you go, this isn’t much of an I stick, but if I’m trying to retrieve myself or have my nanotechnology work properly, it’s incredibly disruptive. Telepathy and even deep thought are similarly difficult, so my other approaches are also compromised.” You have no idea how long it took to make up a name for the glowy liquid - I might have posted like two days earlier if I hadn’t tried to do that. Rebus smiled graciously, though on his head Antagonist was practically humming with malevolent energy. “Excellent… Great Elephant and Thread, take me to safety, take me to solace. I promise no violence, and I promise civility; grant me entrance to Sequence’s World.” Rebus caught the metalmind and was about to tap it, when he had the somewhat disappointing realizations that he could do everything it would let him do using his nanomachines. Frowning, he instead tucked it into a pocket, in the hopes it would be useful later. The light from the nanomachines seemed to flare up from nowhere, appearing when they actually moved and then disappearing again when they cooled down - for this sort of thing caused a lot of friction. Unfortunately for Named, they were heat resistant - devices made from antimatter have to be - and formed a layer of charred nanobots that stymied combustion. The false Dreamsmith faced his counterpart and nodded solemnly. “I thank you.” Then he disappeared from the workshop, traveling through the dream realm until he was fairly certain nobody was following. He faded from the dream realm into the ordinary world, appearing in a shadowy alleyway. Then the false Dreamsmith brought his hand to his forehead, and peeled off the fake skin, revealing its fully mechanical face beneath. Putting the disguise in its satchel, Pilot smiled. Now all he had left to do was deliver the Evergear. Meanwhile, Jack was smiling as well - though he still looked ready to bolt. “I am Jack,” he said, fumbling with his hat for a second before tipping it. “I was at a party; once it ended I did not know where to go.” “Inspection,” whispered Kion, making sure the door really was legitimately a way out. Seconds earlier, he stepped through - unfortunately, his friends were blurred and immobile, and though he tried to tow them through behind him, his fingers passed through their wrists. He emerged somewhere he recognized - the very location of the last party, and the last time he’d felt so strangely detached from reality. Nope - Rebus gave the humans weapons soaked in antiseptic and insecticide, but I don’t think anything has connected. This worked perfectly well - the head was knocked clean off, and began crumbling out of existence as it lay on the floor. The rest of the robot, though, lunged forwards and splashed a mix of antiseptic and insecticide towards the golden skeleton. Rebus swept his hand to the side - though in truth, the movement was unnecessary - and the air turned solid in front of the axe’s haft as utility fog locked together. This would hopefully stop it in its tracks - and might even snap it in two, if Rebus was lucky. “Do you both recognize I could kill you in an instant? Even following the rules, the only reason I haven’t already killed you is because I want your allegiance. So please, give up - it will likely save both of us time and effort.” As he spoke, he connected telepathically to Mischief. Did you kill any of the three important ones? I need to apply the right Banes so I can convert them back.

Invention was distracted by the interesting pattern the Laykium dust was making. The actions of the others were still noticed, of course, but there was nothing to be done, so Invention did nothing. Ripples had begun to move across the “leylines” of Laykium, the positions changing how the line moved, allowing disturbances to propagate.

Oh, are you mad I didn’t come to your party, Sequence? Rebus asked, smiling broadly. I do appreciate the summary - perhaps you shall see me at the party after all. In my defense, the geography of the mountain was somewhat overshadowed by the other things that were happening at the time. If Lezterp really wants to go down there, there’s some Thread geography hand-waves that can be done. Cursed Treasure successfully avoided transmitting any telepathic snickering. Oddly enough, the false Dreamsmith’s soul couldn’t be reached by his counterpart - it was either shrouded in magical defenses or completely absent. “As I said, you may have the tongs - they only work here, and some of the parts aren’t real.” The orb had stopped glowing now, fully “cooled” into its finished state. What it was, though, seemed unclear - there were seams throughout the ball of metal, mostly spreading out from two concentric seams at the top. The false Dreamsmith tapped the top of the ball, and it sprang to life, the pieces between seams unfolding into jointed legs as it jumped upright. Now maybe three feet in diameter - if the legs were stretched out all the way - the machine looked much like a spider, though it had a dozen legs arranged radially around a circular main body. Balanced atop the machine was a circle of metal, which the false Dreamsmith picked up and handed to the real one. “This little guy is Reverie. That circlet will let you see through its eyes and send it mental instructions, though it’s smart enough to understand speech and act on its own if needed.” Panels around flipped up and back down like a crowd doing the wave around a stadium. On the “down” side of the each panel was a glowing circle, presumably serving as eyes which could be revealed when the corresponding direction needed to be observed. This is getting a little long - I’ve got a pretty clear picture of Reverie in my head, but describing it is rather difficult. Honestly, though, feel free to change details around - “In addition to being a rather handy critter - there’s a compartment underneath the main body, the ends of the legs can magnetize and suction to pick things up or climb, and it can even become a ball again to roll - Reverie can do something pretty special. You see, there are ways to temporarily meld the dream realm and the real world - give Reverie a small amount of Prismite, and it can overlap your workshop with Reverie’s location in the real world, letting you walk around without discomfort and even use things that would normally cease to exist if taken outside the dream world. Of course, once the Prismite runs out, everything snaps back to where it belongs - and since Reverie does belong in the dream world, you’d have to get it back to the real world before that function will be useful again.” The false Dreamsmith seemed fairly proud of his work, as complicated as it was. The real Dreamsmith had given out living items before - Sequence’s flying knife came to mind - but this was perhaps more elaborate than even that. Elaborate wasn’t necessarily a good thing, of course. Jack had been preparing for this, so he only jumped normally when the man nevertheless scared him off his feet. “I’m definitely lost, and I guess I’m on an adventure.” He wore a suit and top hat, but far more striking was the fact that he was made from entirely from metal. Despite the random variety of metal plates that made up his skin, though, he moved naturally and was certainly on the human side of the uncanny valley. And that is why I was asking, Rebus noted. I couldn’t exactly steal the Page from the vault if it wasn’t there. Now, if I can get ahold of Fate, we can continue. @xinoehp512? And @TwinStorm, if you have anything to add. “That might be difficult,” Rebus said. “You see, Symbol, my clone, and the teleporter Keys have hidden on a planet purposefully chosen to be almost impossible to retrieve them from. Both magical and technological messages sent there are jammed, and teleportation is sent wildly off course - not to mention how inhospitable the environment there is.” Kion’s head swum with a mix between Deja Vu and a concussion. Everything was fuzzy, and he couldn’t tell what was happening. Had Moni just disappeared? Had yet another Narrator just been gloating about how he was back to life and could get around Ragnorok’s inescapability? Was he still tied upside down from the ceiling after those demons had captured him?

Sorry about the wait, everyone. Rebus was smiling, though he did not attend the party. Instead, he peered through the Thread to observe the vault - after all, every party thus far had been ended by a catastrophe. “@TwinStorm, @NameIess, @xinoehp512, @Sequence,” he said softly, calling their attention to him. “A description, if you would? Any precautions I would be able to observe, perhaps what happened to the Cricket, Malevolence, Bacon, and Sequence.” A time skip would not have worked, regardless. A number of characters from different Authors needed to act before anything there could be done. The base of the mountain probably contained something - the air was rather hard to see through, somehow. Surely from residual taint and not because a particular dragon-adjacent Author was working with canon locations he didn’t know enough about. That was certainly true, though Heir was fairly certain one could do this on ice if you tried hard enough. Rebus squeezed back, looking for another rock to throw. Unfortunately for his plans, a gust of wind completely arrested their momentum, then sent them the other direction. It’s a deal with Rebus, so probably. “Effectively. See if you can get him to promise to fulfill the deal.” Rebus looked into the distance. “Then we - or at least I - can find Symbol and my clone.” Yeah - it’s been a while since I read the series. That is what I was referring to, though I really don’t remember much about it. Even Rebus was unable to keep up with such incredible time warping - from inside the bubble, he was moving at a snail’s pace. This was still far faster than anything else in the room besides light itself, of course - and a more traditional Narrator would have simply ignored the time dilation entirely. As it was, Rebus’s nanotechnology was burning through antimatter at an incredible rate, his mind keeping up only by processing Named’s actions as words outside of time. The bubble dropped and several generic skeletons exploded into shards of bone, one after another - their only warning a slight change in air pressure before utility fog slammed into them from all directions. Rebus dashed forwards, utility fog shunting air aside so he could move faster and suppress his sonic boom, trying to reach one of the unkeyed metalminds meant for the now-exploded skeletons. Meanwhile, the other two skeleton generals were probably doing something… @Ancient Elantrian @ChipsAHoid

I think there was a Nobody at some point - at one point, a number of common identifiers all had character, which caused some confusion. The mountaintop continued to be empty, and might very well be that way for some time. Huh. I could have sworn we’ve see luxin constructs implode on contact with it. Maybe that was the spoilery version (which Rebus has no way to access). Some googling seems to say that obsidian bullets do punch through luxin more effectively, but that mirrors have the effects I’m actually thinking of. The spear of blue smashed into Rebus’s shield of obsidian, both shattering into numerous pieces. Rebus looked surprised for a second, but he stopped the red luxin in mid-air. There were nanomachines everywhere throughout the room, an omnipresent cloud of faint blue lines coming from even the air itself. But the ones Named Pulled on didn’t anchor him - instead, they flew towards him, barely perceivable even with the rapidly shortening steelsight lines. TmwllR was rather shocked at the abrupt departure, but supposed the Priest would eventually come back. Hopefully the other rioters he had been leading didn’t try anything. “They don’t work outside the dream realm, so I will have no use for them. How had you been drawing out the soul strands?” The false Dreamsmith worked as he talked, stretching and shaping the strand into a head-sized, roughly spherical form. It began to turn to metal, details emerging from the diminishing glow. Seams and joints became visible, but the purpose of the object was still unclear. This, too, was somewhat ominous, but it was better than wolves. Jack hoped so, at least. So he held his ground, looking intently towards the rustling. Rebus nodded slowly. “Yes… I can grant you authority to make binding deals, to ensure Lezterp actually does as promised.” Rebus had more-or-less expected both reactions. He slipped his hand out of Keys’ and grasped a small floating rock, remaining calm and detached so as to avoid dropping into the sea. He tossed it into the distance, the crystal touching the surface and being enveloped in a film of glowing liquid as it skimmed away from them. And conversely, the three began to drift the other direction, propelled by Rebus’s throw.

“You were telling me that Lezterp’s machine could get me and Symbol outside the Thread.” Nobody answered. It was spooky, actually - there were no animals, just the sound of the wind. I suppose we wait. “The thing is, Rebus wants to have his cake and eat it too. He’s quite adept at duplicating cakes, metaphorically speaking, but that deal cannot be twisted to his advantage - frankly, to both me and presumably unmodified Rebus, the idea of my story ending is terrifying. That’s oblivion, cessation of existence - regardless of how allegedly happy.” The false Dreamsmith nodded, picking up the tongs used to extract the strand of soul a conventional item would require. Taking the glowing line from the Dreamsmith’s chest, he began to hammer it and one of the last stored pieces of soul material together. Withholding dangers sounded good - Jack walked closer, ducking under tree branches. “Hello?” he called, figuring that he could be gone before this mysterious singer could actually do him harm. Rebus considered giving some context, but decided against it - perhaps the skeletons would stir the into action. Meanwhile, one of the armor robots had received an antiseptic and pesticide-soaked rod, and was attempting to maneuver to behind the golden skeleton. Not like a normal person, but yes - there may actually be more IR, but it’s mostly waste heat from the nanotechnology. Rebus realized his Author had misunderstood who the feruchemist was - though no canon actions would really need changing. Time split, Rebus Narrating the world closer to the true timeline of the Thread, able to fight Named even as he was frozen attacking the third skeleton. The use of so much Narration was regrettable, but this was both efficient and necessary. As the spear coalesced in his adversary’s hands, Rebus - standing calmly in this new timeline - locked eyes with Named for the briefest of moments. His irises were orange - and though this was not for the reason that would be assumed, the conclusion that would be drawn was mostly true. As the spear was sent towards Rebus, shining blackness burst into existence around him. The spear crumbled into chalky powder as it hit the molecularly assembled obsidian, and Rebus smirked. “You were close - I don’t routinely possess the materials to assemble obsidian. Not that a puncture wound would be especially harmful, had I not used the Narration.” Symbol leveled out with the other two, and the liquid covering the group’s helmets evaporated away. The landscape visible beyond was jaw-dropping - a sea of iridescence was laid out before them, almost perfectly flat except for brilliantly shining whirlpools. Rocks - pristine crystal ranging in size from tiny pebbles to what seemed like mountains on the horizon - floated a foot or so above the surface, just as Symbol, Keys, and Rebus were themselves doing. The sky was dark, stars paling in comparison to the light below. And the whole landscape sung, ringing in otherworldly harmony from all around them. The light was not blinding, and the sound was not deafening, but it was everywhere - some who remained in this place might be driven insane by such things, though others could perhaps find beauty in the colors and tones. Rebus - his face serene, head clear of thoughts so as to remain above the flat plane of liquid - seemed to fall into the second category.

Rebus chuckled. “You were helping me, after all.” Not-Bat actually growled. “She’s gone - what do you want me to do! I’ll never see Tam again.” The mountaintop was deserted, it seemed. The ground was shredded and cracked, trails of emptiness and ruined stone that suggested something very bad had happened here. Plants had reclaimed the land, but even they seemed ruined - there was a feeling in the air, that this dark place had been Corrupted. On the bright side, Cursed Treasure’s strange overclocking had ended. But there were no pretzels anywhere nearby - the one Lezterp had tried to teleport to was miles away, at the foot of the mountain. The attraction of this place to the baleful powers of Cursed Treasure and the Great Corrupter had somehow yanked Lezterp off track. Rebus acknowledged the men, but he didn’t care too much - only the three skeletons that had been on the thrones were significant enough to be useful. Still, if they survived, they would have proved themselves. Utility fog coated the weapons of the former skeletons with antiseptic and insecticide, to at least give them something to do. True, Rebus could have simply doused the entire battlefield with such substances, but this served his purposes better. Elan, actually. My response to this is below. TmwllR’s eyes widened. “He wants a happy ending. And he wants people to fight him. You can do either - or both. If you can’t lead, all the better - he doesn’t necessarily want you to win.” The false Dreamsmith tucked the machine into his satchel, nodding. “Leaving for you is… difficult, correct? You start unraveling?” The hair of the back of Jack’s neck - if he had possessed any - would have stood straight up. Singing was more frightening than wolves, in some ways. Still, what else could he do? Checking to make sure his legs were ready, he made his way towards the singing. Rebus’s armor glows purple, actually. I think the skeleton eyes glow red. A surge of the iridescent liquid surged towards Symbol and the globe, attracted by the use of magic. Rebus felt the increase in pressure, and - though the world still seemed to be moving very fast, hard to keep up with - he squeezed her hand, hoping the message would get through. Symbol, now, could feel Keys and Rebus floating upwards faster than she was. And then they stopped moving. She was still being tugged downwards, and they upwards, but the ringing had gotten louder and further away. The sense of pressure had almost completely disappeared. None of the three could see anything but the glowing liquid that coated their helmets, but they had breached the surface. Rebus smirked for the briefest of moments, Antagonist appearing point forwards. All the force of his supersonic dash went directly into the dagger as Rebus held it between the spear point and the top of the axe, ready to be sent into the air like a pole vaulter should the skeleton manage to brace. As it so happened, a volley of arrows from skeleton underlings was soaring towards the two of them as well - but should Rebus’s leap be successful, he would be in the air and out of range as they struck.

Something is coming - something that we need to be there for. The air smelled electric, and smoke still rose off of Cursed Treasure as Lezterp’s energy was torn from him and sucked into the Plotblade at an alarming rate. The mountain - we have to get there. Rebus waited for Erryin’s rush of words to finish. “You fell unconscious - my machine activated internal defenses and woke you up. Had it not worked, I could have used Prismite to Narrate you awake.” This is all true, but is meant to be misleading. Rebus is choosing his wording carefully. “What? She’s gone?” Not-Bat blanched. “She’s gone.” Meat played a dramatic dun dun dun! on the organ, and Not-Bat spun on him. “Go away!” Rebus locked eyes with the skeleton, the corner of his mouth turning up. “You wish to fight me? To truly fight me?” Armored figures fought skeletons all around him, tossing them backwards with utility fog-enhanced punches or breaking into bits and reforming when struck. But Rebus stood still, a skeleton that charged him with a battle axe suddenly shredded into pile of bones by his utility fog. “Wish granted,” Rebus said, and there was a shockwave as he moved faster than a normal eye could track, breaking the sound barrier as he dashed at the one combatant who could hope to match those speeds. “He already turned his attention to you. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” TmwllR frowned. “So either he thinks you could beat him, or he wants you alive.” The false Dreamsmith continued working, making a frame and axles and slotting the gears onto it. “We created machines with souls, people of gears and springs. And this-“ the false Dreamsmith spun an axle, making all the gears spin and turn in a whirl of activity “-will make those pale in comparison.” The false Dreamsmith set his creation on the table, and placed a strand of soul material within the gears. Reaching forwards, he spun the same axle as before. When the gears spun, they swept the soul material within the mechanism. As the two smiths watched, the machine wove the glowing strand into a new gear on the end of an axle. “We’ve had limited self repair for a few generations. But this isn’t self repair - it’s self-construction.” Rebus understood, and resolved to start such a thing as soon as he somehow counted as unimportant to the rest of the Thread. Meanwhile, Jack was still very lost. The woods were very dark - he’d already burnt all the oil he could afford to use. And the howl of wolves sounding in the distance made him very nervous - sure, any wolves that tried to eat him would probably end up with broken teeth, but Jack couldn’t hope to continue walking if his leg ended up broken in exchange. The glowing liquid seemed somehow slippery - pushing off of it was nigh-impossible. Symbol and Rebus, though, seemed to be floating upwards - as though they were more buoyant than Keys. And actually, everyone’s clothes being tugged to the surface - for, of course, clothes didn’t think. Rebus did his best to clasp Symbol and Keys’ wrists, so they could stay together. Hopefully, they would break the surface in just a moment - perhaps just after Keys and Symbol had a chance to do something. If I recall, the room is pretty dark, though both Rebus’s armor and the eyes of the skeletons glow a bit. As for objects, other than the thrones there should be discarded skeleton weapons.

Rebus nodded. “Good.” Meanwhile, Cursed Treasure felt… something. A summons, from a source it vaguely recognized. It began to smoke as it drew in far more power from Lezterp than it had before. We need to move. I don’t know why, but it’s important. Insane and murderous? Rebus thought, one corner of his mouth turned up. He reappeared in front of Erryin, waving a hand and disintegrating the extractor. “You’re alright? My machine seems to have called you back.” Not-Bat smiled. “Thank you! Do you want my help?” Water, though, might not have been the right word. It was certainly a liquid, but it hummed and shimmered with iridescent colors, the glowing and ringing almost overwhelming. The liquid surged towards Keys, attracted by the magic, and wormed its way into every opening it could find, saturating everyone’s clothes. That’s perfectly fine - I’m glad you’re doing well. Symbol may find the substance they’re almost drowning in very familiar, as if she’s seen it before. “I can see a few reasons,” TmwllR said. “I may simply be here to stack the deck - even if you win, my survival means Rebus in general remains alive. I may be here because Rebus knows himself - everything I say and do could be predicted by him, because we are the same. And most alarmingly, I may be here to stall, to distract you for even a moment so Rebus can reach a point where you cannot stop him.” The false Dreamsmith caught the hammer, and moved to a drawer on the other side of the room. He pulled out raw soul material - something the Dreamsmith had certainly not kept there before. The false Dreamsmith began to separate it into pieces of various sizes, breaking the soul over a wedge slotted into the anvil. He then rounded a piece, shaping it into a gear. He did the same with another, and then another, and then another, creating a small pile of four gears. The fifth gear was a little larger, and rolled away as he tried to add it to the pile. He leaned over the table, holding the other gears in place as he grabbed the fifth gear and put it with the other two on the table. He then moved on to making the next gear, this one comparatively small. Rebus nodded. “That is good to know - I would certainly be interested in the resolution of all those plots, and their existence would likely provide my Author engagement as well.” Rebus dismissed Antagonist, leaping upwards to avoid being tripped. He spun in the air, kicking off of utility fog and twisting over the dagger like a pole vaulter. Feet back on the ground, he caught an arrow out of the air - reflexes and vision enhanced to an incredible degree by the nanomachines that suffused his body - and tossed it into the void as the axe came swinging at him. Antagonist reappeared in his hands, Rebus moving smoothly to hook the axe and wrench it upwards. But even as Rebus deflected and dodged the attacks of his three assailants, more were coming. Personal combat would only go so far - and so Rebus smiled, and created an army of his own. Utility fog locked together into bodies, figures clad in the same armor that Rebus wore coalescing seemingly from thin air. They wouldn’t be sturdy - Rebus was too short of Narration to conjure the materials - but neither were most of the skeletons.

Ashkaloda is correct, at least as far as I know. Prismite can be used to fuel Narration (and other magic), so if Rebus could successfully steal some of Erryin’s he would get some extra power. The extractor shuddered, pulling inwards as the forcefield interfered with its operation. Then it stabilized, the operating system attempting to dissolve the force field itself for Chaotic Light. Not-Bat brightened. “Really? What do you think you can do?” Rebus nodded. “It might need a specific resonance point in order to work properly - at least if I understand the metaphysics correctly. Has it been tested before?” TmwllR smiled, though he looked a little skeptical. “I hope I can help, but I’ve been known to attach strings to everything I can get away with. If even the most mundane piece of my technology contains a remote self-destruct, who knows what safeguards I put into a clone of myself.” Rebus didn’t have anything else to say, though he did wonder if Editor Nameless was a variant of Nameless or NameIess. He also noted that the false Dreamsmith was still in limbo, having told the real Dreamsmith who he had made items for (Cricket, Rose, and “my boss”, for reference). “Heir is both central and moderately burned out - he used to have so many other characters, but I’ve slowly taken over and he’s slowly run out of free time. We should probably end this conversation, if NameIess is at risk of burnout because of it.” Rebus, though he was mostly focused on the skeleton with the dagger, began running through the possible Banes in his head. The simplest was probably light, so Rebus’s armor suddenly flared to incredible brightness, filling the room with a purple glow that would have hurt to look directly at had any observers in the room possessed anything close to human vision. “Ah - you can talk,” Rebus said, his crown disappearing from his head as a halberd - his preferred form for Antagonist when it needed to be a weapon - appeared in his hands and intercepted the dagger strike. He had become oddly chipper, considering all that he had just done. “I’m not certain I ever determined the Bane of Calamity; I simply waited for it to exhaust itself as I monologued dramatically about how I was better at destroying things.” “I would accept the slowing, though Keys should be able to go without it if desired.” Rebus put on his helmet, ensuring it sealed properly. Once the others did the same he smiled. “We should be ready now - Keys, if you would?” Welcome back, by the way - it’s good to see you!

Perhaps - I’m hoping that excitement about a new character might actually motivate me to be more active.

Rebus looked down, almost ambivalent about their fate. Still, he should probably do something. Rebus tilted his head, pretending to need time to think, then grinned. Machines coalesced around Erryin, and they lifted into the air within them, still unconscious. Rebus nodded, satisfied, and vanished, leaving the Prismite extractor to begin its work. Not-Bat looked down at his feet. “I… don’t know. I don’t know where she is, and I’m worried about her.” Yeah - the machine Lezterp had been making a while ago. I assume it has an actual name, and maybe another function other than corrupt the Thread, but I know neither. Rebus strode into the room, the seams in his armor slightly illuminating the ground around him with their purple glow. Antagonist was once again a crown, quenching any light around it. He inspected the skeletons, prepared for any possible attacks. Identifying the correct Bane would be difficult - a number of the Horrors could have caused the lost arm.

I do like dragons, though it’s likely that I’m overcommitting to new RPs at the moment. We’ll see - definitely contact me when this starts.

Hmm… We’ll have to see if joining this would give me less time or more time, but I really want to use the FCRRP magic system I made.

“Lezterp was building a machine that would corrupt the very fabric of the Thread - I don’t know if that is still the case, or if it’s the same machine.” Not-Bat frowned. “I know that mine is @bird-“ Not-Bat spluttered slightly, the words for some reason catching in his throat, “furious, but I don’t know Tam’s Author’s name.” “The only relevant machine I can think of with a history here is the corruption beacon.” “I cannot realistically turn back at this point, Bacon. Take your paper, hide it away, hope that will stop me, and be ready for what happens when it doesn’t.” Rebus smirked, then vanished. It is quite good writing - and tormenting Rebus is probably what he deserves. Rebus felt no sadness at Betrayal’s death, despite his hesitation to kill him. Mischief brought little more remorse, but it was the sadness of missed opportunities rather than any sort of actual grief. Rebus nodded at Axzi’s instructions, picking up the key that had been Mischief and walking towards the double doors he though he remembered seeing in the room. “I’m sincere, though I wouldn’t trust me - I’m probably using me to trick you.” The-man-who-looked-like-Rebus (tmwllR) frowned. “And regardless, there’s some plot convenience and Narration being applied to my empire - if I tried to get rid of the real Rebus, without Narration or Antagonist the whole thing would fall apart to grey goo and bureaucracy issues in mere days.” “That’s the explanation I’ve gotten, though I still believe it to be the case that the cracks that sometimes let in withergiests are unlikely to be anywhere near the Witherlord.” Rebus, who was in a similar situation himself, frowned. “We need some new engagement - to make MtG and Silksong a less interesting prospect than the Thread. That may unfortunately require new characters.” I’m sorry about that - we’ll see if I can be on more in the near future.

“Good,” Rebus said, nodding. “As long as that machine shall actually do that, at least. The Corruption Beacon seems like an ill-advised method, but it may be a completely different device.” Meat accepted the grin he had been given, taking it and putting it on his face. As another crash of thunder sounded, he played a dramatic chord on the organ with his face. Not-Bat blushed a little. “Tam Lennox - she’s my friend. And, um, a Narrator.” Rebus nodded slowly. “Good… Shall we begin, then?” I have a couple characters/concepts that could use some more screen time: Jack, who is made from clockwork and is around occasionally, actually has a fairly in-depth backstory. He could travel with another character, potentially for one of the below plotlines. The Machination, a magical mercenary company that has again been around occasionally, has been in hiding from Rebus. They could be convinced to work against Rebus, joined by a character (because they do offer a number of benefits, including magical training and cybernetic augmentation), or serve as minor antagonists. Rebus’s empire itself hasn’t really been experienced on-screen - a character could be on a planet as Rebus conquers it, giving some actual context to what Rebus has been doing thus far. Rebus took interest in the first paragraph, but didn’t comment on it directly. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. “You could simply hand the paper over. The state of your face notwithstanding, a Narrator duel would be quite time consuming - the plot is stagnating even now.” Rebus stood, nearly expressionless. There truly was nothing else he could do. He would have to kill the last Horror, furthering his goals while eroding - yet again - any last bit of moral high ground. Betrayal was right, it seemed. Rebus summoned Antagonist as a halberd and drove the point through Betrayal’s chest, cracking the armor. Rebus’s honor cracked with it, the last portions of humanity within him held together by only a thread. And at that, Rebus smiled.