18th Shard

Xanas looked at Mike with a steady eye, but inside he felt worry blossoming. Mike hadn't been this bad when they first met. He was growing more unstable at an alarming rate. Xanas carefully placed his hand on Mike's arm, palming the sub-dermal sedative carefully. It was a carefully crafted device which used a toxin from an animal on the Eelakin islands. The toxin was a depressant which generally rendered subjects more amenable to suggestion - some reports noted an almost Soothing-like effect as well, though Xanas personally doubted it used any non-physiological components, as he had been unable to detect any Investiture coming from it. He placed the sedative on Mike's arm, and it gently attached itself to the skin, where it would eventually begin to become more firmly lodged. Xanas turned to Ttlarek. "I can't touch the medallions without destroying their Feruchemical charge. Please place them around Mike's neck, in contact with the skin, such that he is able to tap them." Xanas looked back at the monitor. Mike's adrenaline levels were still far above what they should be, and his brain waves were far more erratic than Xanas would have liked, but his heart rate appeared to be slowing. "Mike, we aren't going to give you anymore spikes. I need you to tap those medallions. One contains stored Identity, the other will allow you to burn Allomantic gold temporarily. We are trying to help you. This won't hurt, there won't be any permanent side-effects of this. This isn't an experiment, this is meant to help you. Please hear me, with whatever part of your mind necessary." He was not going to let Mike keep deteriorating. This was what science was for - to fix people. He would make sure Mike was fixed before he moved on. It was important, to Xanas if no one else. @Sorana

Xanas moved through the Alleys, warping to one of the initial experiment rooms, Mike coming to behind him. Xanas didn't know where anyone who would know the important happenings, but here he would find newer researchers who probably would know where to look. Plus here he could get Mike some help. Two Denizens in white coats stood in a room lit with gem lamps behind a one way mirror, observing a mistwraith who was being confronted with increasingly complex puzzles to receive food. The current one involved a lock with several large tumblers. Xanas strode into the lab with Mike following, who was trying to remain inconspicuous. "You, what is your name?" Xanas said, pointing at the first. "Ttlarek. Who are you and what are you doing in the Alleys?" Ttlarek began to glow faintly, one of the Stormlight lamps on the wall dimming. "And why is -" he checked a tablet, "Experiment A-139115 with you? Xanas frowned. "I am Xanas, and Mike" - he stressed the name - "is accompanying me today. Please retrieve an unsealed aluminum medallion, as well as a nicrosil medallion granting Allomantic gold, immediately, Ttlarek. A mild sedative might be appropriate as well." Ttlarek didn't move. His companion stood, tense, as if waiting for an attack. "This is the Dark Alley. We don't give out Invested objects to just anyone who claims to be a long-dead Denizen. We'd run out every week at that rate. I am going to need some positive identification." Xanas tilted his head. "No respect for your elders, I see. Ttlarek, Thaylen, right? Hair indicates some Iriali blood, most likely. Rosharan, how is your knowledge of the history of the Final Empire?" "Passable." "Then, do you know Rashek came to power?" "He Ascended when he took up the power of the Well of Ascension, and made himself into possibly the most powerful Metalborn of all time." "Yes, but to be more precise, he had a knowledge of the workings of reality that others near him did not have, which gave him power." Xanas paused. "Do you know why he fell?" "The Ascendant Warrior killed him by removing his atiumminds." "No. That is how he fell, not why. He fell because he forgot that there were things he didn't know about, powers he didn't comprehend. Now, we could make a comparison between Rashek and you, here, today. You are here, in the Alleys, because you understand more of how reality works than others do. This gives you power. Beware lest you assume that your knowledge is the sum total of all there is to know. As the Survivor said, there is always another secret." Xanas tugged a glove off of one hand, and a darkness began to curl around his fingertips, twisting and warping in the air. He grasped for one of the lamps next to him, and the Stormlight vanished, the Void consuming the light like it was famished. The gem shattered, and the area around Xanas became dark. His white-gray robe silhouetted his figure amidst the darkness, and the Void swirling around his finger tips. Xanas smiled tightly. "Now, about those medallions." Ttlarek fled for a storeroom. @Sorana

Xanas watched as Mike jumped to a windowsill, then launched himself toward the next one up. At that rate, he would be able to get lost in the city fairly quickly. I really miss Lashings the most, I think. Why coudn't the spren bonds have held? Now I have to cause collateral damage. Xanas unsheathed Tsarik, then ran forward, cutting through the support beams holding up this side of the building. The brick facing began to fall away, and the wood began to crumble inward. Fortunately, the building had not been built to modern codes. Though Xanas probably should send a memo to Cam about the mess. Well, maybe not. Don't want to get involved in that kind of paperwork right now. I'm pretty sure my insurance policy ended when I died. Mike tumbled backwards off the window ledge, landing on his feet remarkably in the alleyway. Xanas reversed Tsarik and cut through the power line now freed from the building's side, giving himself about 20 feet of usable length. Xanas guessed this one was probably a low energy wire, under 200 volts running through it. That was still a dangerous amount of electricity for most humans, particularly if in extended contact. Most people couldn't last very long if too much current passed through the core, and Mike had metal in his chest, which wouldn't help. Xanas would have to draw on the Void to make sure the contact was brief. Sheathing the Blade, he pulled off a glove. Squirrel turned toward Xanas, and made a run for the front of the alley. Staying here would mean death. Her death, maybe Mike's as well. Run. She had to run. Flee from this predator. She couldn't go back, couldn't get trapped again. The man wasn't talking anymore. Terror and adrenaline surged through Mike's body. Squirrel looked from side to side, trying to find a way out, to escape this dark figure. She didn't know how to use the knives Mike had hidden in his sleeves, but there had to be a way out- Xanas whipped the wire at Mike, simultaneously sending a surge of the Void across the wire, a dark surge of nothingness which disrupted the current momentarily. You aren't killing this boy, Xanas thought. Another part of him chided himself for personifying the inanimate energy. The electricity arced through the spikes in Mike's chest, running down into the ground beneath him. Mike stopped running and fell to the ground, unconscious. The wire cracked, the current sparking near Xanas's hand. He dropped it to the ground. I should probably check if he's alive, I suppose, Xanas thought. He checked Mike's pulse, which was still pulsing. Xanas found he really didn't care at the moment. Though the boy had been far too much of an annoyance to just leave behind. He sighed, then picked up Mike, dragging him toward the mouth of the Alleyway. Florescent safety lights were intermixed with Stormlight lamps on the wall. Xanas stepped into the Alley, Mike towed behind him. The Alley closed. @Sorana

Xanas looked at Mike, confused. "Mike, if this is about what they've done to you, I can promise, that isn't going to happen again. You really do need some medallions though. Just the fact you are using plural pronouns is evidence of that, it's a fracturing of personality that can be quite irreversible if not quickly mitigated. I promise there won't be an experiments. Think of it as going to the doctor. You're sick and you need help." Xanas stepped toward Mike. Mike didn't seem like he was listening. "Mike, listen, there are maybe two or three Denizens who are older than me, no one is going to harm you without permission from me." He stopped, the realization catching up. "That's what you're afraid of though, aren't you? Mike, I would never... Mike, have you ever seen a fox caught in a foot trap? Hunters, humans, put them out to catch and kill foxes. There's no way for the fox to get out on its own. The only way for it to be free is for it to let a human free it. It has to let itself be freed. You're in a trap, Mike, those spikes will kill you, one way or another, if you aren't stabilized. You have to trust me." Xanas looked around the area, searching for something that could help him but wouldn't kill Mike. Sometimes, the fox needed to be sedated to be freed. His eyes caught on one of the power lines nearby. @Sorana

However, Elsecallers are the "prime liaisons with the great ones of the spren; and the Lightweavers and Willshapers both also had an affinity to the same, though neither were true masters of that realm." In other words, Elsecallers have not one but two surges that function mostly through Shadesmar and have a far greater affinity for it than Lightweavers do. WoB states that for Jasnah,

Over thirteen hundred years since my experiment then. Xanas made up his mind. It had been long enough that he needed more data, and any of his old connections were probably either long dead, insane, or some combination of both. With the probable exceptions of Voidus, Mac, and the Stranger - though the insanity group wasn't necessarily invalid in their cases. Xanas would need to return to the Alleys to get the answers he needed. Besides, he could get Mike those medallions, which might help stabilize him. He seemed to be swapping between his spikes as a stress reliever, which was unhealthy. Relying on anything besides oneself put one at risk once those crutches were removed. For some, it was a spouse, or money, or the power one exercised over others. All faded with time. The only constant currency was knowledge, and even that could grow stale if you let it. Xanas looked back up at Mike. "Well, thank you for that. Almost fourteen hundred years have passed since I walked these streets last, then. I'll have to go directly into the Alleys then, to learn what I need to. If you come along, I can help you with some of the instabilities of those spikes - some medallions should help." He gestured to the side and an Alley formed, warping the cobblestone as it merged with a tiled floorway. He started walking toward it, and glanced back at Mike.

Blood is 92% water. Yeah, it would explode. That's not a supernatural effect, that is how alkali metals react with any water or like substances.

Xanas smiled, genuinely for once. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mike. Seven... So that means no zinc for stability. Hmmm... I would have used at most 5 animals and then a micro-zinc lynchpin spike, probably with a medallion for allomantic gold handy for the rehab process. The human brain can really only manage to keep track of 7 things at once, so having too much more to keep track of is just irresponsible Hemalurgy." Xanas looked back up at Mike's face. "Sorry, I get distracted sometimes. The human bindpoint system is just so fascinating to study. But you probably don't want to hear about that now, do you?" I should probably get Mike a medallion for compounding aluminum, bolster Identity. That might mitigate some of the side effects of those spikes. Or maybe... Xanas realized he hadn't pulled his hand back. He returned it to his side. "So for starters, Mike. Storms, I haven't had this little of a reference frame in a while. Let's see, you're high school, college age? So first question, fill in the blank, it has been 'blank' years since the Worldspike was put in place. And, second, if you were in a history class, and a teacher asked you to name the most notable events and people since the Worldspike was place, what would you say? Approximate dates are accetable." Xanas grabbed a crate sitting in the alley nearby and sat down. As Churchill had once said, "Never stand up when you can sit down." Of course, Churchill hadn't been a corpse reanimated by a Voidmade inversion of his own soul, but the principle was the same. @Sorana

However, he needed the Stormlight to manifest water for humans.

Xanas watched the poor kid's breath start coming faster, his pupils dilate, and his voice shake. The scales had vanished pretty quickly. "Hello, sir," the kid said. "I can tell you about the city." Storms. I have scared the living daylights out of him. "Is there anything specific you are interested in? I'll tell you. Just tell me what you want to know." The kid's eyes kept darting around, and his hands had slipped onto a pair of knives defensively. This was not going to work. Xanas sighed. "Look, kid, I am not here to spike anything in or out of you. I am not on assignment or anything from the Alleys. I... Storms, I am so out of practice with this." This was so much easier when I could Sooth people. "Kid, I need your help a little bit. I picked you cause you looked like the most likely one of the people meandering around here to be a little more comfortable with the Alleys and all." He stopped and gave himself a second. How did you normally begin conversations with non-work associates again? Introductions, maybe? "Let me introduce myself. I am Xanas, one of the First Denizens. I was here before the Alleyverse existed. I was here when the Worldspike was placed. I am a scientist, of sorts. Some time ago, I suppose, I was performing an experiment. It involved the Void and Connection and invesiturial relativity and some other Realmatic theory that you would probably need several PhD's to understand. Anyways, the experiment went wrong. I was supposed to be in the Void for a few minutes. I appear to have been there much longer, and just emerged. When I left, there was no city. I wouldn't even have called it a village then. Maybe a hamlet? Anyways, please just tell me what you know about what has happened here." The kid wasn't running yet, so maybe he was calming down. Maybe. Xanas hadn't dealt with adolescents in a while. The excess hormones tended to make them harder to predict. Horrible for control subjects. "Although for starters, I can't just keep calling you 'kid'. I hated when people did that to me back on Roshar. And before you ask, no, this is not a trick question, and no, I am not going to know if you lie. I don't know who you are, kid. Though it is kind of obvious you have had at least 3 or 4 animals spiked into you. That's tricky stuff there, can really do weird things to your personality." Xanas took a second to look at where the spike probably were - the chest. He counted at least 5, though there might be another one or two in there. A few animals and an emotional stability spike probably. He mumbled under his breath. "I remember this one lady who got stuck with a wolf - there was all kinds of problems with it until we figured out how to stabilize her. Hopefully, they balanced it a little better with you." Xanas checked his gloves - they were on all the way - then held out his hand. "Sorry if that didn't make a lot of sense, I don't usually talk to others very much. But hopefully, we can just chat like any two normal quasi-humans. So, um, hello, as I said, I am Xanas. What's your name?" @Sorana

Xanas walked along the First Alleyway. The cobblestones beneath his feet were dusted with a light layer of flour. There were no other footprints besides his own. Brick walls extended to either side as far as eyes could see, reaching into the dark sky above. A single cart sat with a small lantern next to Xanas, the only deviation of the alley one could see in either direction. Xanas picked up a chocolate chip cookie from the cart. It was still warm, still soft, but nonetheless, there was something about it that felt… stale. He ate the cookie. Once, he had preferred snickerdoodle, but as the years had passed, he had grown to love the classic chocolate chip. It was a reminder of simpler days, of days when science had been a frontier instead of a realm, days before light had entered the Alleys. Xanas paused for just another second at the cart, then looked toward the Alleyway’s unending length. He’d realized he had been gone for far longer than anticipated. How long, he still wasn’t sure. In a way, walking down this Alley had been mere procrastination on his part, a pretense that not everything had changed. Xanas had always tried to ignore the responsibilities that had been heaped his way. As the Alleys had grown, as Denizens had multiplied, he’d insisted that they had to each find their own way. He’d argued that survival of the fittest was the only law that needed rule the Alleys. He had told himself he was trying to make them strong. That had been a lie. He had been trying to ignore the rules and responsibilities and laws that had tied him, that had demanded he guide others. It had been a long time, even before he entered the Void, since he had entered the daylight in the Alleyverse. Far too long. It was time he rejoined the world. He held a gloved hand forward and pushed the fabric of reality into conformance. The alleyway warped, and the brick walls bent, revealing a street corner, the Alleyway tucked into the darkness between buildings. The sky bled to a fainter black, with stars punctuating the darkness like embers trapped in the amber of space. The Alley faded behind him, ending in just a wall with a small dumpster where the First Alley had been. Xanas stared at the world around him. The city was so… big. On his left was a tall wooden building that appeared to have been at one point an inn, but now seemed to have been retrofitted as apartments. A power line run up its side, cords running into the various rooms. That has got to be a fire hazard, Xanas thought. On his right, a modern steel office building rose high into the sky, twisting in a manner not unlike the Kholinar windblades, albeit much smaller. There were cars and railways criss-crossing the hill in front of him. People practically infested the scene, children playing games, adults shopping, youths reading messages on those phones Knighthawk Foundry had made years before, though these seemed to be getting better reception than they once had. They had always been irreliable compared to more direct methods of communication. People seemed to make sure not to meet his eyes, not wanting to get involved in Dark Alley business. He saw a boy with scales on his arms, standing with an almost defensive air around him. He was watching the area around him much closer than the majority of people nearby. Probably just nervous. I would be too, if I looked like him, if everyone could practically read “Former Dark Alley Property here” in my eyes. Xanas loosened the tie on the Blade on his back, ready to draw it, then strode over to the young man. “You!” he called. “Tell me what is going on. Tell me about this city.” He allowed the Void to tinge his eyes just a little bit, and looked straight into the boy’s eyes. "Tell me everything you know." @Sorana

Who would be in the Alleycity that Xanas could run into and essentially get a timeline rundown since he vanished? Also, when we are talking about the city, what do you normally imagine? I want to capture Xanas's absolute shock that it isn't a bunch of huts anymore.

I think you are misunderstanding Jasnah here. To use a real world example, in Christianity, Jesus is God. However, in Islam, he is a prophet. One born of a virgin who had the capacity to perform miracles and who was taken bodily into heaven, but nevertheless human. A Muslim would say they believe Jesus exists, but not that he is a God because to them he wasn't. Similarly, Jasnah said she was unsure of the reality of the Almighty; there was a possibility of his existence - but she would still consider him a spren like the Stormfather and Nightwatcher. Not God. Just because someone else believes Honor to be God has no relevance to Jasnah. Regardless of his reality, to her, he is merely a powerful entity, not God. I think the difference involves her discussion with Taravangian - regardless of Honor's reality, he does not define her morals. She does. And so to her, a being who defines reality and morality does not exist. There is no being she calls God. And she's not wrong - it is a subjective definition here.

Xanas reached through the darkness, Blade stabbing into the stone above him. It was good to see some things never changed, even when everything around kept peering at you, darkness reaching its evil little fingers out at you, trying to pull you back into the… Stop that. Xanas glared at the dark sky filling the alley. 18-colon-2i, if you even think you can manipulate me into surrendering, you must have forgotten who gave you sentience. A low wind coursed through the alleyway, with an almost mournful, apologetic sound. Xanas hadn’t been able to make alleys like Voidus or Mac could – they were a little better at the whole deity thing than he had been – but he had always been able to convince the alleys that existed to be where he needed them. This one had been both imaginary and complex, which made it hard enough to manage, but more than that, he’d taken one of the walls off. Everyone tried to walk Alley 18:2i on the floor as far from the Void (which had started seeping through the wall-less side) as possible, but to get to Xanas’s lab, you couldn’t do that. You had to walk on the ceiling until you felt the Escher paradox take hold of you, then turn toward the Void. At that point, the straight walk left you turning onto a perpendicular route to his lab. However, it left the way out devilishly hard if you couldn’t Lash yourself anymore. Xanas grabbed the handhold he had just carved, then swung the Blade out again to carve the next one. He stabbed the Blade back into the stone ceiling, then swung forward to the next handhold, grabbing the Blade once he’d passed. He made his way over to the edge of the paradox, then dropped to the floor, happy to not have to hang in the air anymore. His arms couldn’t get tired, but it was so annoying to have to keep swapping hands to use the Blade properly. He held the Blade in his right hand, and stepped into the main Alleyway. Alley 273 was a much more used alley, even had this great taco shop on the corner… Xanas looked around at the silent alley, watching trash blow on the ethereal wind. It was… empty. It looked like it had been abandoned for years. How long had he been gone? Surely no more than a few months. He willed the Alley to take him back toward the Worldspike. Alley 273 warped, twisting. Xanas could have traveled instantly, but he’d always enjoyed to walk. Walking gave you a sense of purpose, a connection to the distance you traveled and the things you saw. And you could always leave a trail of cookie crumbs to get back if you wanted. He saw … change. It was as if he had left these Alleys as children, and they had grown overnight into adults. Grandparents even. There were doorways into alleys with their own flora and fauna that hadn’t even been here the last time he walked by. He turned a corner and saw the triceratops. Of course. Can’t even go for a walk without a dinosaur wanting to kill me. Xanas hated dinosaurs. There was a reason the universe had thrown an asteroid at them. All brawn and no brain. Half of them couldn’t even be trained to use the bathroom outside the lab. The triceratops lowered its horns – they had been replaced with spikes – and charged. Xanas sighed. He sidestepped the charge, swinging Tsarik through the side of the triceratops. He managed to miss every single limb enough to sever one. The triceratops turned and slammed its head into the wall, just missing Xanas. Its horns caught, lodged in the mortar. Fine, Xanas thought. He pulled off a glove and darkness began to pool on his fingertips. He grabbed the middle horn that was stuck deep into the wall. “Goodbye, little one. Next time, have better manners.” He grasped the horn, feeling the Investiture bleed out, writhing into the darkness. The horn dimmed to his sight, just a bit. It was no longer a spike. The triceratops started thrashing. That was normal when your brain realized there was a large piece of metal inside it. Xanas jerked the horn a little bit, and the dinosaur fell still. Once, he might have reshaped it into something useful. Once, he might have had a little mercy for the life before him. Now, he was just tired. Dying tended to do that to you, even if you had once been a god.

Having been an early Denizen, I find this idea intriguing. I don't plan on joining, but will definitely follow along. One world-building note, perhaps: this would be a time when this new reality/world/whatever it is is still some what new, and would probably involve a lot of experiments gone wrong in the process, which could heighten tensions. For instance, I believe this would be shortly after Xanas would have taken a small Research team into the void, which would result in a complete loss of the team with no signal reaching outside to let them know (along with other potential consequences to the area in the Alleyverse). If there were similar experiments in the Alley that are at risk of destabilizing reality, that could give your anti-city some real reasons and motivation for opposing settlement.

I'd think your best bet is too get an aluminum spine in him. Per the most recent Hemalurgic spike chart, it removes all powers. I'd think your best bet is too not fight him, but rather get someone who is unlikely to be paid any attention close and get the spike in. I'd go with a Truthwatcher for an Illusion and the healing in case it goes badly. Alternatively, a sufficiently powerful Soulcaster with enough practice might be able to form an aluminum spike in the right spot (assuming your Fullborn isn't too highly invested).

80 Years Previous Remember. Xan touched the copper in front of the large metal plate at the front of the lab. Memory surged through him. He remembered how to read again. He glanced up and read the plate. “Do not look at laser with remaining eye. This side up. Shake well. Contents under pressure. This side down.” Xan searched the coppermind for the log. This was the Eye coppermind, and it contained most of the records of events that occurred. Nothing today, he noted. He looked at the sensor beneath the plate. Nothing registered abnormally. Not today, his coppermind indicated. He made the note. Xan didn't think, not anymore. He hadn't since he had died. But when he was remembering, when he was touching one of the higher copperminds in the lab, he could almost remember .... Memory faded. Xan's hands dropped to its side. Remember. Its eyes, glazed, scanned the room for the nearest copper. It grasped it. Memory surged through it. He remembered how to read again. He glanced up and read the plate. Batteries not included. Not covered by most insurance policies. Side effects may include drowsiness, glowing... Xan searched the coppermind for the log. Today's entry had been filled in. Not today, it read. He moved on down the instruction list. The Heart coppermind was next. He reluctantly relinquished his grasp on the metalmind. He walked across the room to where a blood purifying machine was running. Deoxygenated blood flowed through the machine's artificial heart. You needed the blood to keep clean and not coagulate if the spikes were to be preserved. If all the work that had gone into those spikes were lost, it would be... Xan couldn't quite conceive how he should respond, but with the spikes of Connection and Identity in his chest, and the Breath within him, he could almost imagine what he would have done before... Memory faded. Xan's feet slowed without purpose. Remember. Its eyes, glazed, scanned the room for the nearest copper. It walked forward and grasped it. Memory surged through it. This was a lesser coppermind, with mainly instructions on how to clean the area nearby. It carefully grabbed a glob of mistwraith muscles, placing them on the end of the spike in front of it. It turned the switch that diverted the blood into another tube, emptying this slot. It lifted the spike, careful not to allow the spike to come free of the mistwraith flesh. It rinsed the slot, translucent red water flowing around its gray hands. Xan didn't think about feeling. It didn't think about where this spike came from or what it did. It didn't even notice the circle of Shardblades, stabbed into the stone in front of it. There were eight, each of a different order. If it had looked into the Cognitive Realm, it could have seen the eight deadeyes, standing numbly in the same spots. It could have seen the spikes, rammed into each of them, binding them to the man it once was. It could have seen the other two spren standing still, defiant, as if waiting, a spike in the eye of the inkspren and in the abdomen of the spren behind him. That one had once been bonded to a Stoneward. Xan didn't see them though. After all, it was Lifeless. It couldn't think. It just continued its task, as the coppermind had instructed. Remember. Remember. Remember. 10 Years Previous Xan reached for the coppermind. Memory surged through him. He noted the wires that were deteriorating slightly on the lab’s systems, silently measuring lengths. He began to uncoil the loop of wire, keeping the coppermind against the skin of his knees. He braided the wire together, then dipped it in the plastic that he had kept liquid in the vat. Behind him, he heard a clatter. He turned and saw a Blade fall to the ground. He turned to the coppermind, searching for the protocol he should follow. Check Linchpin coppermind database. He turned and started running for the Linchpin coppermind. Halfway there, his memory faded. Xan slowed, but his pace brought him close enough to the coppermind to reach it. He tapped the memories stored there, a flood of information flowing in. Place in stone in center of room near Heartmind. If only one Blade left, engage warning fabrial on final spren. He grabbed the Blade, noting it to be the Stoneward blade, and stabbed it into the stone pillar near the others. He flicked on the fabrial, and then sprinted back for the coppermind, barely making it in time before his memory faded. He tapped his memory of peeking into the Spiritual Realm. He saw, again, that place within places, the time between times, connections spanning eternity, fracturing into the future, words in gold covering every surface. He almost grasped why he had done what he had, why he had killed himself, leaving behind this husk of himself. Almost. But not quite. He let go of the memory, and sat, looking at the dead spren in the stone by him. Tears fell from his eyes. He didn’t feel anything at the spren’s death, not really, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to do. He could almost imagine what it would be like to be one of those spren, to just one day break and die. Memory faded. Today Xan checked the sensor. Nothing again, he noted. He started to turn, but the fabrial next to the sensor started blinking. He looked, with a hint of what once might have been curiosity. Well simulated memories seemed to make it easier to remember what it had been like when... He'd missed it. A faint distortion on the sensor, so faint it was almost imperceptible. He turned up the sensitivity. Then did so again. And again. And again. It wasn't clearing up. What was this? He kept increasing the sensitivity until he could see the Investiture in the trace metals floating in the air. The pattern, it was... What was that? It looked like something had been inverted from normal, an emptiness where his sensor should be reading. He flipped the colors on the screen. That's... that's my spiritweb. Inverted. He checked the coppermind, almost frantic. Almost. It was time. This was the signal he was supposed to remember. He tapped all the memories that had been stored years earlier. He turned to the metal plate that had been installed so many years earlier. His eyes glanced over the first line: “I set these words in metal, for nothing else will last.” People had always wondered what the unwieldy disclaimer had been for. Surely no one could prosecute the Alleys and win a legal battle. They had never understood. These weren't warnings. They were instructions. Push only labeled buttons. Xan pushed every labeled button. Do not look directly at sun. Xan opened the sunroof, exposing the solar panels to the sun. High in sugar and iron. Xan turned the knobs labeled sugar and iron to high. Liquid connection, like that once used by the Ire, began to flood into a small green basin. Keep arms and legs inside of machinery. Xan turned off all system functions in the lab extremities, focusing all power to the vital functions. He continued down the list.... Void where prohibited except where not prohibited. Xan turned off the Realmatic stabilizer. He began to panic as darkness started to coalesce on the sensors. He started. This was real panic, real fear. Not memories. Real. What was happening? Unintentionally lost connections may be collected at no extra cost. He poured the Connection from the basin onto himself. His vision snapped into all three Realms. Threads of Connection exploded out of him. Many of them snapped to the copperminds, and to the inkspren hovering on the edge of his vison. Complimentary cookies will be provided for all non-living entities, free of charge. He picked up the atium spike - uncharged - and rammed it into his chest next to the other two. Please keep all spren visible at all times. He held out a hand and began to summon the spren as a Blade. Darkness began to ripple around it in his vison. The spren started to shake, resisting the summons. There was something else there, something familiar, holding onto the spren, invisible even to his eyes. He felt the Blade fall into his waiting hand. In case of emergency, ask for help from any of our non-existing help entities. He seized the threads of Connection attached to him and grasped onto the spot from which the drag on his Blade had seemed to emanate. He felt the ties grab hold of soemthing, strengthen, and began to collapse into him. He dropped the Blade, and it clattered to the floor. The darkness surged, ripping into the lab. If all other methods of recourse fail, we extend our apologies. Xan screamed, and all went black. Xanas gasped for air. He rolled onto his side. It had worked. It had finally worked. He dry heaved, adjusting to once again having a body. He had finally escaped the Void. The emptiness where even darkness was too light a word, where description failed because there had to be something for you to describe it. Some had thought the Spiritual Realm the source code of reality - but the Void was all the zeroes of reality's binary. It was the consuming vacuum, except consume made it sound like matter and energy were going somewhere. Xanas seized the coppermind, seeking to draw in the records and memories he had made. Memory was so fallible compared to a coppermind. He could feel the investiture inside the metal. He pulled on it, and it... drained away. The metal drooped, loosing its shape a little. Xanas felt a seizing inside. What had happened? He reached for the table and stood. As he did, his hand brushed the fabrial on top. The gem shattered, dimming. Light extinguished. Xanas stepped back, wary. He turned to the metal plate, polished almost to a mirror's sheen. He saw himself. Grey, Lifeless. Eyes a deep black. A single dark, warped spike in his heart, unlike any metal he had seen before. And dark black lines, spreading faintly out from it. He stepped closer, still staring at his own face. Storms. He had thought he had made it back completely. I have. Mostly. He turned to ask Tsarik what it had looked like on this side of the transition. He saw the Blade laying, still on the floor, point sticking into the ground. He peered into the Cognitive Realm, still barely visible from the perpendicularity that had formed here. He saw the dark inkspren, and the spike in his eye was now somehow darker. There was no light or even Tsarik's usual texture there, only a dark emptiness. And his other eye. Storms. Where it once had been, there was just a series of scratches, as if oil had been poured into a scratched plate and then frozen. Tsarik did not speak. Xanas began to weep. The other spren, they had been... acquired, but Tsarik, Tsarik had been all his own. He had bonded him long before he had ever seen a spike or even left Roshar. He had been the only real remnant left of who Xanas had been, once. Enough. There's no time to grieve. You need to identify what has changed, why the metalmind and fabrial you touched drained away. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Xanas dressed in an aluminum-lined, gray-white robe (it had once been an Elantrian's, who had embroidered Shao on the back - Xanas thought the Aon was appropriate). With aluminum-lined gloves on, Xanas carefully picked up Tsarik's corpse. He placed the dark black Shardblade into an aluminum sheath that he slung over his back. He didn't dare try bonding it. The others that he had tried to bond had dissolved into the Void, along with every other Invested object he had touched. Spikes that had taken years to make, Awakened machines, all gone. Even the Aviar had lost all its Investiture, and then slowly died. He had figured out that aluminum allowed him to interact mostly normally with things, blocking the Investiture from getting in contact with him. The tests he had carefully run had shown him to be Lifeless still, physically, but the darkspike in his chest somehow had stapled him back into his body. Whether his Cognitive aspect had been affected by his moment in the Void was debatable (he hadn't been the most sane before that experiment), but his Spiritweb had been entirely replaced. Where once there had been Investiture, now there was only darkness, an inversion of who he had once been. The souls that had been attached to his by spikes had been ripped off, leaving behind a mangled excuse for what had been a Spiritweb anyways, but this was worse. As far as Xanas could tell, he was now anathema to kinetic Investiture - but he needed it. He could feel, inside him, the Void, pulling on him, drawing him back. Like a twisted version of a Returned, he would need to consume Investiture to keep the Void from pulling him back, and he couldn't even compound or infuse anything anymore. He looked at the lab. There was nothing here he could use or would need anymore. He needed answers, and he’d learned all he could here. He pressed the self-destruct button and stepped out into the Alley. It was time to find some answers. He needed to find an old friend.

Thanks! (Now to take over the univer- I mean, do normal, not potentially evil things...)

Figured I would put this here and get approval on the above post/character reintro. Let me know what Voidmaking strength would be balanced.

Good morning, afternoon, evening, or night, my fellow denizens! It is I, 18th Shard (character: Xanas). You may not recognize the name (I have been a bit inactive due to a 2-year mission), but I was an early member of the DA - I created the symbol that is my user profile picture and the Disclaimer. I joined on page 6 of the original thread if anyone wants to perform a background check - though to be fair, my character didn't have much background at the time. I decided it is by far time to resurrect Xanas. And by resurrect, I do mean resurrect. @Voidus could you check for accuracy on the Void and Voidmaking? Thanks! Here is what I am thinking: As far as character sheet goes:

Just thought I would throw my 2 cents in here - Sadeas was not unarmed. Both men had Shardblades, which due to the circumstances of the fight were not summoned. But arguing that Sadeas deserved a chance with a weapon - he had one, and probably the best one he could have had, but regardless, Adolin would have killed him. Adolin is probably hands down the best dueler in Alethkar - there is no evening the odds with the weapons with him involved. Was killing Sadeas smart? No. Is Adolin innocent of wrong in the situation? No. But is it perhaps justified? I think so. Why did Sadeas come down without guards? That is, frankly, stupid. Nevermind the hotheaded son of the Blackthorn here, what happens if a Moash or a bridgeman saw him? I could see plenty of them stabbing him in the chest and then facing whatever backlash comes. Sadeas knows that. He's not exactly shy about saying he hates the Kholins, so he can really only have two motives in this meeting with Adolin. Threaten verbally without witnesses and push him into doing something stupid politically (check with an unexpected outcome), or threaten/injure/kill him. But above that. this isn't some petty man causing Adolin personal anguish. This is arguably the 2nd most powerful man in Alethkar and probably in the top 5 in Roshar, saying he would rather claw his way to the top of humanity and watch it burn. This is a man with incredible wealth and power saying, screw you and your kingdom, and the world with it, I want to be in charge. In spite of the fact he knows the end of the world is coming, in spite of the fact he knows the Kholins are right and are Radiant, he still just wants to ignore it all for his own gain. That, in my book, is treason. The fact it'll require Adolin's family dead makes it personal, but that's only a small part of the bigger issue here. And for me, that's where Sadeas diverges from Elhokar. Elhokar is a selfish, whiny tyrant, but when the world starts ending, he decides he'll start trying to live up to what he could be. And it doesn't atone for what he has done, but at least he is trying to stop the end of the world. Perhaps a better comparison than Moash is one with Kelsier. We don't really blame him for the deaths he causes in the same way we do Adolin or Moash, probably because they aren't as big a deal to him. But he is far above either of these two for killing hierarchical nobility to satisfy vengeance.

This is the Oathbringer cover blurb. Brandon has said these covers were written by the Sleepless. He has also RAFOd a question about them holding Surges and being Radiants before. When did these Aimians hold Surges? Perhaps on Ashyn?

One interesting idea that occurred when the anomaly was compared to Szeth: What if the planet of Nalthis had something similar to what Szeth did happen to it? I.e. It's cognitive aspect was temporarily disconnected and then reattached... Mostly.

I seem to recall an essay Sanderson wrote about book popularity within the fantasy genre and how there were different levels of popularity, where if you're like Martin popular you get somewhat known outside the genre and get films, and then you have Hunger Games popularity where it kind of is a cultural thing. I feel like he used the phrase "transcends genre" but I don't know.