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Chapter 178: All I Have
🕑 Added 2024-09-23 09:28:11 +0000 UTCThe next time Theora was awoken, she found herself surrounded by the lush mosses of the ‘greenhouse’.
It wasn’t a house, but it was green. A dome-like barrier encased a rocky patch of landscape, overgrown by Isobel with vegetation. Dema had erected terraces, ridges, and ledges, pillars and cliffs, to increase the surface area of this little pocket of air on an otherwise unbreathable moon landscape. Water bubbles of different sizes floated in the air, brimming green against the sunlight.
This place was where they lived and recycled oxygen for the duration of the mission. Between tests, Theora was usually asleep somewhere here.
But this time it wasn’t Isobel or Dema who greeted her awake, it was Bell. She’d touched Theora’s cheek with a tentacle, injecting just enough poison and acid to gently nudge Theora back from the dreams.
“Good morning,” Theora mumbled, trying to figure out if this was an emergency. But Bell simply nodded when she confirmed Theora’s eyes were open, then turned around to proceed with watering.
Theora pushed herself up from the mossbed. She was wearing a present from Treeka — a light red nightgown embroidered with yellow moons and stars. Theora had no idea where Treeka’d gotten it, but it was amazingly soft and cooling.
“Morning,” Bell said curtly. “The others are out on an excursion.”
Theora nodded even though Bell couldn’t see it. She rubbed sand out of her eyes, inhaling the sour earthen scent of soaked vegetation mixed with the petrichor of drips on rock. Their home planet hung on the starry sky next to the sun.
Theora was using the countdown of her fetch quest to keep time. Bell had woken her up two weeks early. Not like she minded; the ones who minded weren’t here. Theora wasn’t sleeping so much quite on her own volition.
“You spend so much time resting because you’re sleeping off [Obliterate]’s permanent damage, right?” Iso had said a year earlier. “In that case, go to bed.”
‘Doctor’s orders,’ Theora called it, although only to herself and not out loud.
Isobel’s analysis wasn’t entirely accurate. There was no way to ‘sleep off’ permanent corruption caused by the use of [Obliterate]. The process was a little more complex; closer to Theora rearranging herself to make room. She had good control of her body, and she had always been a large entity, in an indirect way. [Obliterate]’s ambient corruption didn’t quite look the same inside her as it did in, say, her training grounds, or at the edges of a shark-tooth rock — it wasn’t made of manifold fractals in insect-hive shape, or glitchy acid goop. Inside Theora, the corruption was something akin to pure emptiness. Not quite, but difficult to put in different words.
An emptiness that could not be filled. An emptiness that demanded an abstract form of space. So, Theora expanded herself in her sleep. This process was complicated when she took on a high amount of corruption without preparation, for example if she misjudged the target size. She’d seal the damage inside her body, then scrambled to render herself more hollow to contain it in the following months.
It stretched Theora thin, but she was large. It was unpleasant, but she was resilient. She had grown used to the feeling of everlasting emptiness inside her. She had grown used to sleeping. Isobel had, however, correctly guessed that Theora never granted herself quite sufficient rest; that she always kept it at the point softly and distinctly below ‘good enough’.
Both Dema and Isobel would be upset to find Theora awake upon their return, and Bell knew that. Bell had never woken her up before.
Theora briefly contemplated lying back down, then contemplated asking Bell what was going on. Instead, she stretched, and got up to look the little jellyfish girl over the shoulder, from a non-invasive distance.
The watering can dispersed little droplets through the thick carpetry of sheet moss on the ground, with the occasional swing to the sides of rocks and hills Isobel had coated in all kinds of haircap mosses. At the same time, Bell’s jellyfish tendrils probed around to inspect the health of the little plants, glazed in a protective barrier not to harm them. Occasionally, she’d squeeze a droplet of acid out of her fist to adjust the levels of the ground to what mosses liked the most.
It didn’t seem like Bell wanted anything.
Theora went off to the cabin, erected right beneath a rocky overhang. Inside, she found documents pertaining to their endeavour, some tools, a room with a bathtub Bell and Iso were sleeping in, and cabinets filled with clothing. Theora washed herself at the basin and got dressed in an oversized shirt and a pair of tight pants, then pulled her hair up into a ponytail.
Theora smiled at herself in the tiny mirror, turning her head to flap the hair around. This new look might soften some of Dema’s playful anger at seeing her awake, and earn her some kisses instead.
Then, Theora pulled open another cabinet to find some food stored inside. She sliced bread and fruits — they’d stored most food in Theora’s attire together with the time dilation device, but someone appeared to be restocking the cabin regularly.
Theora prepared enough salad and sandwiches for everyone, then ate some of it herself, making sure to leave the used plate out. It was evidence, after all. Evidence that she had eaten. That was to calm Isobel’s anger.
She tidied up some of the mess at the small workstation in the corner of the main room and took the time to drain Bell’s and Iso’s basin to scrub it clean for them before filling it back up. She left the cabin after putting the laundry she could find strewn around — most likely all Dema’s — into a large bowl to soak in warm soapy water for a while.
The moon was an amazing place to live. If only Treeka could have joined. Theora sent her a good morning message; she wasn’t sure what time it was down there right now, but Treeka wouldn’t mind receiving one in the middle of the night.
Further into the dome Theora found a meadow atop a terrace with a large rock shaped vaguely like a deckchair. Little isopods and ants and bugs had found their way to the moon with them. They crawled away from the surface of the ‘chair’ as she poked the moss growing on it. When the chair was clear, she gently sat down, and closed her eyes.
Not to sleep, of course — just to enjoy the sun for a bit, and the scent, and the faint sound of Bell’s squelching footsteps and watering can in the distance.
Theora blinked awake when Bell poked her cheek with an acid infused tendril again. This time, Bell didn’t turn away, opting to stare down for a while.
“You’re irredeemable,” she finally said.
Theora shifted forward to stop leaning against the back of the improvised chair. She didn’t have much to add to that, so she waited for Bell to continue. Bell clicked her tongue when her statement didn’t deliver the intended effect; Theora knew she’d meant it as an insult of sorts, but facts didn’t bother her. Bell pointed at Theora with three tendrils; based on the jerking motion in the others, she had probably attempted to do it with all of them, but she was still learning to control her hair like adult Bell could.
“I interrogated Dema,” she said.
Theora smiled. That sounded like fun. “Wish I heard that.”
“About your time abroad,” Bell added, sounding a bit flustered at the reaction but trying to press on anyway. “What happened and what both of you did.” She bit her lip, and looked away. “I don’t think she noticed. She thought I was just curious. But I need to stay up-to-date, because of my quest.”
“The quest to kill her,” Theora said, nodding. Of course. Theora and Isobel both had that same quest too.
Then, Bell went on, “It’s… I had a hard time listening to it. The way she talked about her scheme, her plans, machinations. And you ended up falling right into it all. You let the Ancient Evil corrupt you.”
Those words filled Theora’s chest with warmth. She really had, hadn’t she?
Bell thankfully ignored Theora’s reddening face as she continued. “I understand that you do not want to kill the Ancient Evil, for it seems harmless from the outside.”
“She,” Theora supplied. Invent One was one thing; it had used impersonal pronouns for entities like itself. But Dema had never referred to herself impersonally, so Theora didn’t enjoy hearing that.
“Right,” Bell said. “She. Sorry.”
Theora perked up. ‘Sorry?’ If Bell apologised, that meant she saw it as a mistake. So why had she made it? “Anyone talking to you about Dema?”
Bell looked a little confused. “Of course?” she said, as if it was obvious. “The System is giving me live updates. Location data, suggestions, weaknesses, potential points of attack. All kinds of reports on — her. Does it not give them to you? I know None used to receive them, until they blocked the elements from appearing in the System UI.”
That was possible? Theora needed to ask about that.
“I have never gotten data like that.” Sure, reminders to get the quest done, but never so in-depth.
Bell frowned. She chewed on the information for a moment. “Well. I guess, on second thought, that makes sense. That kind of ties into what I was about to say, so let’s get back on topic. Have you ever looked at this situation from Dema’s perspective?”
Theora was a little puzzled at the question and tilted her head.
Bell continued: “[Obliterate] kills at any distance. You’re powerful enough that you wouldn’t even need to say its name to cast it. Any moment to the next could be Dema’s last, if you just wanted it to be.”
“I won’t do it,” Theora supplied.
“I’m aware of that. And I have made my peace with it. That you’d rather send in the small fry to bite their little teeth out and pave the Ancient Evil’s bloody trail.”
That sounded a little dramatic. Dema had not killed anyone since Theora had met her. “When you first tried to kill her, she asked you to travel with us.”
“I’ve been wondering about that,” Bell said, “and yeah, it’s weird at first. But I think it just shows how unreflected Dema can be. Did you know that Dema is probably the only true immortal being to exist, besides those tied to her? Longevity is a thing, but nothing is quite as resilient as Dema.”
“Right,” Theora said. Her own immortality was tied to Dema’s too, in a way.
“But why try to be immortal?” Bell asked. “Why not just long-lived? Why not just a hundred thousand years? It feels like she’s trying to make a point.”
“What point?” Theora asked.
“Immortality is not supposed to exist. Longevity, yes. Immortality? She made that up. Dema is a contrarian. Her striving for immortality is a challenge. It wouldn’t surprise me if that was exactly what got her in hot water with the System in the first place.”
“A challenge,” Theora echoed. Dema’s immortality was a challenge. There might have been some truth to that. Dema was, in a way, saying, ‘Catch me if you can!’
Little Bell was fairly insightful. Perhaps looking at the past from a different perspective helped too.
“I think she just straight up likes the idea of being around people who could kill her,” Bell continued. “Like, imagine if you love that risk; the idea of being around someone who could end you any second must be fairly enticing to her, no? And the way [Obliterate] works is scary. Any moment could be her last. Any thought could be her last. You would just need to think it. It should be horrifying. You have complete power over her, but due to the way you set up your personality, you won’t ever do it, and she relishes in that.”
“I’m not sure if you should be talking about other people in that way,” Theora chided her, although she had trouble believing Dema would deny any of it.
“And in that other world,” Bell continued unfazed, because she had never been known to mince her words, “she — you — took it a step further. You didn’t just not kill her. You revived her. She put her life in your hands, in its entirety, even gave you plenty of incentives to throw it away, and you still came back with her. You played right into the hands of her immortality power trip.”
Theora blinked. Bell sure had a way with words. There was no doubt Dema was scheming things, and certainly no doubt Theora was playing into those schemes, sometimes unwittingly; Theora just didn’t think that was a bad thing.
You revived her.
Theora had not even noticed that. Yes, framing it that way, it was certainly an escalation. She used to just not kill Dema. Eventually moved on to defend Dema, against Amyd’s party and Bell herself. But now, Theora was just straight up getting Dema back when the deed of ending her life actually succeeded.
That definitely wasn’t what she’d been made for, all those years ago. Corruption was quite the accurate term. Through a long and arduous process, Dema had corrupted her.
“Thank you for pointing this out to me,” Theora said. “It makes me feel much better about myself.”
Bell winced, and then just grumbled something under her breath.
“Did I upset you?” Theora asked.
“You could be a little less condescending,” Bell said. “This is serious to me.”
Theora tilted her head slowly. That’s right. She didn’t usually treat children that way. This was difficult, because she’d known adult Bell, and seeing the differences to this one made things a bit confusing.
Theora tried to imagine how she would have responded if the old Bell had told her all these things. What would she have said then? But the question didn’t have an obvious answer. Back then, Theora herself had been difficult, drawn into her shell, quiet. She might not have said a single thing in response, back then. Theora had never interacted with Bell like this, like… well, happy.
She had no blueprint for this situation at all.
But this, in a way, was exciting.
Perhaps she wasn’t treating Bell like this because Bell was a child. Perhaps getting a little happy had turned Theora into a bit of a brat. Perhaps she was just a little patronising now, in a way she hadn’t dared before. If so — was that a trait she wanted to keep? Or one to improve on? She’d need to get to know her new self, find ways to interact with the world that were compatible with her good mood.
At least, it was clear what she could do now. Bell wanted to be treated seriously.
So Theora could be honest.
“One day you will remember,” she said, “the tears you cried when I told you that Dema is under my protection. You are too, if you want to be. In my view, the System is using you. But I want to leave you the room to come to that conclusion yourself. I want people to live their lives freely. I will stand with those who can’t. And as long as the System targets Dema, I will stand with Dema.”
Bell swallowed. Fear flared in her eyes. “But—” She looked away. “It’s that simple for you? Dema just wants to live freely, so you protect her?”
Theora smiled in affirmation. “It’s not simple for you?”
Bell shook her head. “How could it be? I ran the calculations. To get back to my former strength. If I use the System’s recommendations, its incentives. If I clear its quests and collect all achievements. If I reap the rewards in items and experience, the hero privilege. If I do all of that, it will take me 25 years.”
This girl was frighteningly efficient.
“But,” Bell continued, “if I don’t make use of it? It would take me centuries to reach my peak, and that peak would pale in comparison to what I once was. I wouldn’t be able to protect anyone. If the home of my people were to be attacked again like back when you saved it — like back when you saved that younger me I still don’t remember being — I would be powerless to stop it. I need the System to be right. If it isn’t—”
Her fists squeaked at the strength she used to clench them.
She was still avoiding eye contact, staring at a far off point in the distance.
“I read name after name in the archives of people I don’t know, who I can only ever meet again in my memories, because they’re dead now. I was too weak to make it through the Rains of Fire, and it got me polyped, and I am losing decades to this. Decades in which I could have completed dozens of quests and helped hundreds, thousands of people. And you’re telling me the System is wrong. None even wants to destroy it. But to become capable of protecting the ones I care about? For that, it’s…” A little quieter, she finished with, “it’s all I have.”
She finally looked back at Theora.
“And now I’m watching you — the hero whose deeds None read to me from children’s books since I was small — get corrupted away from me like this. And it both sucks if you’re right, and it sucks if you’re wrong.”
Bell turned to leave, and for now, Theora let her. She didn’t quite have the words to respond. She could reiterate how the world was under Theora’s protection too, but despite her strength, Theora’s Skill-Set was horribly limited and she was just one person.
Bell and Theora both shared a similar burden.
Theora gently grazed the moss while an ant crawled over her leg. She helped it back down and got up.
“Bell?” Theora shouted.
Thousands of years ago, Theora had become one of the most powerful entities in existence. She’d relied on both herself and the System to make it there, as well as the help of her mentors and support networks. Granted, it hadn’t been a wholly positive experience — all of them had had their own agenda — but from a perspective of how far it had gotten Theora in terms of power, the results were difficult to deny.
Twenty-five years to reach the peak? Bell was competent, but right now, inexperienced. Theora wasn’t.
Bell hesitantly shuffled back into view.
Theora smiled down at her. “Let’s spar?”
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Aw Theora soo happy. And goddess I wonder if bell will ever learn gotta love that I believe x cuz I need it to be true emotionally and am willing to murder people for that belief. Unsurprisingly it also seems to really be unpleasant for bell too.
