For the Record

Well, she didn’t.

Maybe it’s easier that she doesn’t remember them… especially since Sodaca was so awful.

“Couldn’t you just resurrect them? You know, like you did Omorth, or all your weird homunculus priests, or whoever else back in the day.”

Nyx isn’t wrong. But, well…

“Should I, if she doesn’t even remember?” I say quietly. “Plus I don’t know what would happen if their Akashic Selves already got reused… I don’t know how quickly that happens, and it’s been centuries…”

She shrugs back. “You could find out. Plus maybe she’d remember if she was exposed to something from her childhood. Who knows.”

…

“That’s not a bad idea, you know. And I can get in a lot easier than last time, without all of that weird scrutiny!”

“You’re not going to bypass-”

I don’t give her time to finish before I’ve already opened a rift and pulled Hades and I into the space in between, on a bullet’s path toward the Sand Sea.

***

As soon as we pass through the exit rift, I’m met with the familiar warehouse district where we’ve met Orv numerous times.

Just Orv though, because Sodaca never bothered leaving her workshop.

In a sense, she’s like Nyx in that way.

(Hey! I heard that!)

I’m sure you did, and it’s not wrong, you hells-damned workaholic.

(I’m trying to make the planes a better place, you know. What the hells have you ever done for them!?)

I made a complete backend for your u-comm thing, complete with front-end extensibility. Remember?

(That’s… fair I guess. But I’ve made a lot more advancements than just that!)

I project the mental image of a shrug, just in time to hear sirens blare all around us.

“Huh. I wonder what that’s all about.”

…

We head toward the front door of my wife’s old home just in time to be surrounded by humans in some kind of fancy armor, teleporting in from somewhere.

All pointing weird weapons at me. Weird weapons that I recognize… they’re the kind that obliterated my kin when I sent them searching for Hades, at least here.

“Hands behind your backs, face down!” one of the armored humans barks.

I sigh, letting the fine particles scatter. “We’re literal gods. You can’t stop us.”

And in response, the speaker releases a blast of some kind of light beam from their weapon, which… actually hurts. A bit, anyway.

“Hey, what was that for!?” I snarl. And then in a much darker tone I say, “Are you trying to start a war?”

“I should ask you the same. You’re the ones who invaded this sovereign plane. Tell me then, what do you want here?”

“That’s… not a bad point, I guess. What am I supposed to do then? Go through the front gate?”

It’s the guard’s turn to sigh. “Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.”

“And you’ll fuck off and leave us alone if we do? My wife here is a citizen here. Does that mean anything?”

“A great many things could have happened, mind control, any number of things. You need to be cleared by customs before entering.”

Wonderful. Exactly the tediousness I wanted to avoid.

(What did you expect?)

Not this, obviously. Well, oh well.

“Fine. We’ll go through the front, but don’t even imagine that I’ll forget this slight. Your patron is long gone, as far as I know.”

(No he’s not.)

…

O-oh.

…

…

Should I have been stopping in on Vulcan all this time then?

(Probably!)

Huh.

***

“Please state the nature and expected length of your visit.”

At least the checkpoint outside the teleport station hasn’t changed… much. The scanners look a little different, but they seem to do the same thing. How exactly they ping the record for surface information, though… I’m not exactly sure.

Vulcan had Spellspeech, supposedly… maybe that can do some of the same things as the words of creation.

Hells, maybe he’s another outsider. Who knows.

Probably not though. I assume I would’ve seen it in his soul… which in hindsight, I remember having seen when I was in the space between. Big and colorful, like the other gods.

Big, colorful, and probably delicious. But I shouldn’t eat him.

Probably.

And there’s the look of horror on the checkpoint employee’s face, but before they can speak I cut in.

“Yes, yes. I know. Big scary god, your scanner thing probably says ‘do not admit under any circumstances’ or something, right?”

They nod slowly, perfectly mimicking a small animal facing down my other wife.

…

Huh. I wonder what ever happened to Philip?

Before I can continue that train of thought the government employee answers. “I-I can… Um. I’m not supposed to let you in. Why are you here? I can, uh. I can try to pass along a request for an override…”

“Do you think they’d actually let me in if you do?”

…

“M-maybe?”

“Ugh, fine. Try that.”

Well, an hour and a half of filling out forms later, I’m rewarded by… waiting another three hours for any kind of feedback.

And when it finally comes, it’s definitely not in a form I expected. We’re promptly escorted to a nondescript building to the side of the checkpoint, containing a heavily guarded and warded teleport pad.

An ornate teleport pad.

One of the nearby guards gives me a suspicious look before waving some kind of gadget across a platform thing with a glowing glass panel – probably more runic tech, I assume – and the teleporter flares to life.

And so, we enter it.

The other side greets us with… a room full of gadgets. I guess it’s a lot like Nyx’s workshop, but…

Very more so. Very very more so.

A lifetime’s work. Several lifetime’s work.

“The look on your faces say you didn’t expect this.”

I spin around toward the source of the voice to find a human… like, hunched over yet another workbench, fiddling with some kind of gadget much like Sodaca used to.

Most noticeably, they’re not looking up. How did they see our faces?

Without a word and without looking up again, they tap an eyepiece on their face.

“I see. And so do you, apparently. Some kind of remote viewer… thing?”

“Yes.”

…

…

…

“So, uh. Are we going to talk or something? I’m just trying to take my wife someplace she’ll recognize, she grew up here, and did a trade for a few centuries… You’re the gate human’s superior or something, right?”

“Well, you could say that.”

…

…

“Really though. The first question?”

“I should just ban you from my plane, you know. Invading another’s home is a serious offense. Ah, there we go!”

With a flash of sparks, the gadget he’s been fiddling with springs to life…

And starts walking around on the work surface.

“Huh.”

…

I think I just figured something out.

“Your plane… you’re Vulcan, then?”

“Naturally.”

I see.

…

…

Without another word, the god of… invention? Innovation? I’m not quite sure. Anyway, he continues just watching the small gadget walk around on his workbench.

For far too long.

“Really though. Can we go now?”

“Why are you here?” Vulcan asks again, more pointedly this time. “And why did you think it a good idea to bypass my entry customs?”

I shrug. “I’m not used to this level of security to be fair. Granted, I can apparently drop through most gods’ barriers without much issue, but a lot of what I do is outside the purview of the Record…”

His eyes narrow. Was that not a proper explanation?

(Not at all reassuring, as usual,) Nyx comments. (You probably jut put him even more on his guard. Idiot.)

I sigh quietly.

And for the first time since we arrived, the other god glances toward my wife. The gadget on one side of his face whirls…

“Ah. I see. Yes, her face is in my records, although… she’s been away for quite some time, hasn’t she? Why return now?”

“I already told you,” I reply with at least a little frustration. “She went through some awful stuff and forgot almost everything, including who she used to be. I want her back, at least enough that… well. I want her to be herself. And she asked me not to force her memories to return.”

…

Vulcan rubs his chin thoughtfully for moment.

“And that is something you can do?”

I nod.

“Strange. Potentially useful, but strange…”

Getting impatient, I form a chair of the ashlike powder I’m made of – very carefully, I remember exactly how angry Nyx got the last time I managed to get it in her tools and projects – and take a seat, pulling Hades into my lap. “Yes, yes. Useful. All sorts of useful things, like the u-conn. Yes, yes, before you ask – I really did make the backend for it, where it ties into the Record. I think it’s like your Spellspeech but kind of stronger? Not really sure what the limits are.”

After another moment of silence, a devious smile crosses the other god’s face. “I want to know the limits then, at least some of them. Maybe you can be useful to me, and not as a weapon of mass destruction. I’m going to provide a series of projects I’ve struggled to satisfactorily complete, and if you can manage them, I’ll consider allowing you entry.”

Huh.

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

I guess I’m going to be busy for the foreseeable future.

Although… huh.

Hey Nyx. Want to meet Vulcan?

(I thought you’d never fucking ask! Why did you wait so long!?)

And not even a moment later, my former Assistant arrives in what is no doubt her ultimate mecca, her holy grail of places at the very top of her bucket list.