The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

Sanctuary Nadir | 1:09 PM | Third Day

How had Ran described my grandfather's machine? Like 'roots', coming to a point like a 'needle'.

I couldn't call this description wrong, exactly. There were discernible tendrils of the structure that worked their way downwards in loops, eventually tilting at an angle and convening at a point of light. But Ran, even when describing something truly fantastical, had a straightforward way of conceptualizing things. Good at conveying facts, not so good at conveying impact.

What she had failed to capture, in this case, was scale.

It was like we'd descended into the highest point of a storm frozen in time, swirling tempest and lightning suspended at the apex of their ferocious momentum all around us. The cavern was huge-- No, vast. Vast in a manner that provoked a similar feeling to looking out over an open plain or up a mountain, except inverted in a way that confounded the mind. And the structure surrounding us felt only a little smaller. Countless curling metal beams, all engraved and glowing vividly with arcane energy, surrounded us in every direction, overlapping one another in a manner that more evoked a beehive at an obscene scale then anything constructed by a human.

Using the Power, it was possible to create structures at obscene scales that never would have been feasible with manual or even mechanized labor, and examples of this could be found in most modern cities. There was the Aetherbridge and the colossal towers of the inner city in Old Yru, but I'd also seen the great library of Tem-Aphat, intended to store all the knowledge of the world on parchment, which was 300 stories tall and had the proportions of a pyramid-- They had to pump air into the higher floors so it didn't become hard to breathe. And even in Oreskios, there were the Thyrian Shipyards, which extended almost a mile out into the ocean and even had a substantial underwater component, albeit of much more utilitarian design than Apsu. (I'd been there once during a school trip; they didn't normally let people in who didn't work there. It'd been largely indiscernible from a warehouse from the inside, and I'd spent most of the experience bored out of my mind, but conceptually it was impressive.)

This, though, was different. It had the air of a natural phenomenon, except that, thinking about it logically, the effort afforded on the inscriptions had to represent tens of thousands of man-hours. Hundreds of thousands, maybe.

I'd once heard a professor say that to create something nature does thoughtlessly, human beings must expend an entire lifetime worth of effort; devote themselves completely to that single act of imitation. The first building, a lifetime. The first spark of electricity, a lifetime. The first treatment of a disease, a lifetime.

While obviously not literally true, this brought that idea to mind. In what surrounded us, I could feel all of a person, a mind bent utterly to a specific purpose in a manner fringing on madness. Will itself given material form.

To even stand in the shadow of such a thing felt frightening. The crimson light pulsing from all directions, like the last gasp of a dying star.

"Su," Kamrusepa said, from below. "You're slowing down."

I blinked. That's right - I'm supposed to have seen this before. Even if there was a good chance they might've overheard the conversation I had with Fang earlier to some extent, I didn't want to be too obvious about my descent into insanity. I sped up a little, moving to match the position and pace of the others.

"Fuck, laying my eyes on this thing never ceases to take me aback," Zeno said, a bright smile coming to her face. "What a phenomenal spectacle of arcane engineering. Of sheer vision and ambition!" She licked her lips. "Never in all my years have I witnessed the like anywhere else. What a shame it will be if we have to abandon it over this petty affair just when the concept is proven."

I glanced at her for a moment. Zeno really did seem utterly infatuated with my grandfather's work. It was making me increasingly curious about what exactly their relationship had been.

Seth made a skeptical look. "I didn't wanna say this back when we came down here the last time, but I don't think I quite get what makes it that big a deal. I mean, if you need all of this - this much space, this much energy, just to make one person physically young - isn't it just a safer version of cloning someone a new body, and transplanting the brain?" He looked to Kam. "That technology has been coming along pretty well recently, hasn't it?"

Kamrusepa furrowed her brow. "There has been some notable progress in the 20 years since the ban has been lifted," she conceded, nodding. "Though cerebral trauma and spinal integration issues still present themselves far too often for use on the general public - roughly 30% of cases, as I recall it. And that's not even mentioning the prohibitive costs of full-body cloning."

"I mean, if they've got that far in just a couple decades, then those feel like solvable problems. And if we're gonna talk about prohibitive costs..." He gestured outwardly, at what surrounded us in all directions. "I dunno. It just seems like-- How do you say it, a solution that's, uh..."

"A solution in search of a problem," I said.

"Yeah, that's right," he said, nodding. "If it doesn't cure dementia, it doesn't feel worth the hype."

"Ptolema said the same thing earlier," I told him.

"She did?" He hummed worriedly. "Maybe I should think it over again."

"Like all people your age, you predictably see only what's in front of your nose," Zeno said, tone dripping with condescension. "You're not wrong that there are simpler methods to restore the majority of the body to a state of youth, many of which are quite promising. Hell, now that the Biomancers in Palaat are unshackled by the Old Yru Convention, I'd estimate it'll only be another 60-80 years until we're capable of total physical rejuvenation without even resorting to such methods."

As she was speaking, Zeno idly flipped in the air, suspended upside down for a few moments while still keeping an even pace of descent. As I said, flying was easy, but they seemed exceptionally comfortable with it.

Kamrusepa frowned. "Most publishing in the field would call that an extremely optimistic projection, professor."

She giggled to herself. "Let's say I have some insider information. We're not the only people that've been keeping our cards close to our chest over the long years." She shook her head. "And it is also true that this particular method does not solve dementia as a problem. But!" She smirked. "What it does solve, or at least begin solving, is something far, far more vital."

"What do you mean?" Seth asked skeptically.

"I'll try to put it in terms you can understand, little boy," she said. "The preservation of the physical body and mind is but the first and most obvious stage in tackling the problem of mortality. We ask: 'How do we stop our bodies from rotting, simply by being left too long to their own devices?' Though vital, at its core, the venture is pedestrian-- Not truly advancing the human condition, but merely paving over the holes of a broken foundation."

"One could call it arrogance," Kamrusepa said, in a tone that made it clear she would, "to say that a problem mankind has labored to resolve since the advent of civilization is 'pedestrian.' Especially when one's own work is built on the efforts of those who came before."

We were getting close to the metal structure below. A circle of metal installations built on a spire of stone, extending from a seemingly endless blackness.

I found myself wondering. If we were in the Palaikos - or whatever it was supposed to be called - what exactly were the physical dimensions of this place, anyway? Was there even a floor, or could you just keep descending infinitely until the artificially-imported laws of reality the sanctuary brought with it broke down?

And for that matter, where exactly were the observation tools of the Ironworkers that there so essential to everything? Were they part of the walls themselves, the very structure of the place? Or were they concealed, somehow?

Zeno looked at Kamrusepa with a bored expression. "Fuck off with your tone policing, little girl. I get enough of that at the university." She rolled her eyes. "The truth is that mankind as it exists - it's thoughts, its innovations, the scope of its influence - is and has always been pedestrian. You can either crawl out of the quagmire of human existence by daring to imagine advancement beyond it, or you can die like a dog in Plato's Cave, like countless billions before you."

I wasn't sure if that was the most pretentious thing I'd ever heard in my life, but it was up there.

"Anyway, the second stage is protection from external factors," Zeno continued. "At it's basic level, this is also caveman bullshit - trying to stop yourself from being murdered or tripping over something and cracking your skull in - that we've got mostly tied up for anyone who gives a sufficient shit about their own welfare already."

"Gotta say, not feeling like we have 'murder' tied up too well right now," Fang intoned.

"But then you have the trickier problems, like existential threats," Zeno continued, ignoring their interruption. "Case in point: The Iron Princes thought they'd live forever just because they'd half-escaped their physical bodies, but the collapse sure as shit robbed them of that preconception. Think only of the threat before your eyes, and you'll end up like the Pharaohs when Alexander rolled in." She began idly twirling her scepter around. "Being an immortal means thinking long term, and I mean long term. That's where the true potential of something like this innovation lies."

"Because it's power over time itself," I deduced.

She snapped her fingers, pointing to me. "Precisely! Turning old people young-- That's just a proof of concept. It's how it goes for every piece of new technology. Start off big with small effects, then test, observe, and tweak until those two have flipped right around. And then, my friend, you're cooking on fucking gas."

"What's the big effect, then?" Seth asked.

"Turning an old world young, that's what!" she declared, smiling widely. "Fixing this dead-end reality, held together by nails and tape, before something important gets broken and we're all screwed."

Seth looked skeptical about this idea, raising an eyebrow at her. Kamrusepa, though, seemed more swayed, her eyes wandering up and down over the structure. "The prospect of divining information atemporally could, in theory, open countless doors in Aetheromancy." She narrowed her eyes. "But that presupposes that we discover a means to permanently reconstruct space-time without the use of iron, which by all accounts is a dead end. The Power only has utility within the Remaining World, not beyond it."

Was that a hint of techno-skepticism, just now? What Zeno did to her personality just by being nearby really was incredible.

"If you're fucking the universe in the ass, you can't expect to fit your whole fist in on the first night," Zeno retorted colorfully. Out of her line of sight, Kam stuck her tongue out in revulsion. "What's important is that you bring it to bed. Follow through hard enough, and you might even carve a path to the third stage."

"And what's that supposed to be?" Seth asked, his brow flat. "The third stage?"

"Transcension, obviously," she answered. "Ascending from the banal nature of physical form outright, to a state where the termination of one's own existence is not even possible within the laws of physics. Where we win the battle to all battles - the tension between reality and the human mind - and live as gods."

In response, Seth gave a groan, rubbing his eyes, while Kam twisted her lip, making a complicated expression.

"Of course, all of these ideas went right over the heads of the rest of the council," Zeno went on, shaking her head. "For all their skills, compared to █ █ █ █ █, they have the professional vision of cave bats. But then, what can you expect from an organization whose idea of progress is simply chasing the Philosopher's Stone like we're a pack of New Kingdoms Era alchemists?"

For my part, I found myself frowning in puzzlement. Something about Zeno's aspirations for the whole project on a conceptual level did come across as... Strange. After all, back when I'd seen speaking to Linos and Anna, their testimonies had made it seem like its construction had only come about after their broader goals for researching and subverting entropy had failed. Maybe Zeno was right about them not caring about the product of that research beyond its role in directly elongating human life, but... If it really did have this kind of potential, you would've thought they'd have been more excited.

To pursue something as insane as the put-entropy-in-a-kid's-brain project, only to react lukewarmly to something like this, felt odd. I couldn't shake the sense there was something about the Order's goals I didn't understand.

"You're kinda an older dude, Zeno," Fang said, speaking up for the first time in a while. "I get all your high ideals about this, but. Aren't you more concerned you or somebody you love might get dementia, or whatever? I can kinda see the others might be more preoccupied with the basics."

I blinked in surprise. That question had felt like it'd come kinda out of nowhere.

Zeno, however, didn't seem bothered, merely making a dismissive gesture as she flipped her body around again, descending face-down. "Don't forget who you are speaking to. I am the creator of the discipline most concerned with ailments of the mind." She smiled. "I am, to say the least, confident in the progress of the research."

Fang nodded, pushing at their cheek with their tongue thoughtfully. "Huh. Y'know, I haven't heard much news in the field lately, honestly. Is there anybody I should be following?"

"You should follow Professor Ichimai's work," Zeno said, seemingly put off by this sort of specific questioning.

Fang's eyes lit up. "Oh! Is this an each-of-my-balls joke?"

Zeno turned to stare at them for a moment, her expression flat and annoyed.

"...actually, I'd wanted to ask something," I said, a memory suddenly popping into my head. "When we last came down here, Neferuaten said that my grandfather had a name for this... Thing, right?"

This perked Zeno up again quickly, her face breaking into a mischievous smile. "Oh yes, he certainly did. Or at least, for the project in its totality. " She smiled wistfully as she once again looked at the winding coils, descending downward like the head of some unspeakably massive drill. "It's a little specific-- He called it the 'Apega'."

"Huh," Fang said.

I hesitated. "I'm sorry, my Inotian could be better. What does that word mean, exactly?"

Zeno clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "It's not a word, little girl, it's named for a person. Or rather, for another device, itself named after a person." She sighed melodramatically. "Clearly, you're too young to appreciate a good historical reference. Maybe you'll understand in a few decades when you have some culture in you."

I frowned. I wanted to inquire a little further, but we were already out of time.

Finally, the elevator itself came into clearly discernible view, sitting at the bottom of the chain mechanism on a square-shaped platform adjacent to the southernmost metal structure. Instead of continuing down directly onto it, Zeno instead flew out to the side at high speed, sweeping into the building - if it could be called that - through one of the windows.

We followed. Entering the chamber, it matched Ran's description much more closely. Square and sparsely decorated, with only a few shelves of books and paperwork, some kind of control panel, and a handful of tables and chairs, all of incredibly plain design. Judging by the reactions of the others, nothing had changed from our previous visit.

"Stay afloat. We want to keep the option of three dimensional movement if it comes to a confrontation." Zeno bluntly instructed, moving to check something on the control panels.

'If' it comes to a confrontation. It felt like Zeno was still holding on to the side that this could all be some misunderstanding.

"Roger that, boss," Fang said, with a friendly salute.

Zeno rolled her eyes, peering at the controls and fiddling with them a little. "Now, start divining," she simply stated, not even looking at the rest of us.

"You... Want us to search for Hamilcar with the Power?" I asked, staying in the air as instructed.

"Please don't pretend to be stupider than you are, girl," Zeno said, with a sigh. "I believe I already told you that it isn't cute."

I frowned, but decided against making a snarky comment. Myself, Seth and Fang began casting, while Kamrusepa - who didn't really know any Divination concerned with living beings, or at least didn't have them engraved - moved to see whatever Zeno was doing. I invoked the Death-Sensing Arcana, for my part, while Seth used its Biomancy equivalent, and Fang employed the frightening technique they'd used back in the dining hall of the guesthouse.

As I finished speaking the words, the sixth sense flowered in my mind's eye, but it turned out there was very little to see with it. Almost nothing was alive down here, and therefore, nothing was dead. Other than the five of us, I could only make out tiny clusters of cells interspersed on the floor and in other rooms-- At rest in trace mud from footprints, or around what was probably fallen hair and skin. They seemed, as one would expect, to proceed in a rough path deeper into the facility...

Then, suddenly, I saw him. About 90 degrees from where we were on the circular platform, very close to the edge, was a living human. It'd taken me a moment to realize, because the cells in their body weren't quite dying in the manner you'd expect, especially in the torso and leg area. My mind instantly connected it to my memory of Hamilcar's body and mechanical implants.

"I see him," Seth said, beating me to it. His eyes were narrow.

I nodded. "Me too. He's over to the north, standing at the edge of the building--"

"The maintenance balcony," Zeno said, and clapped her hands together. "Right then! Let's not waste any more time."

She pressed a button on the control panel, and a printer at the periphery whirred to life, the mechanical quills lowering into place and rapidly scrawling perfectly-written text onto the parchment below. Then, flew over to the other side of the room and retrieved a wooden crate from the corner, next to one of the seats. Finally, she moved towards Seth.

"Listen closely, boy," she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "I know your generation likely couldn't properly operate a machine where the user interface isn't spoon-fed directly into your brain if your life literally depended on it, but please try your best to retain this, okay? We're standing in the primary observation chamber of this facility. If you press this button," she gestured towards a flat, grey tile on the controls, "and then enter 8-9-4 on this keypad, it will activate a barrier around this area and the elevator platform. It's powered directly by the negation furnace beneath us, so it's far more potent at repelling direct force then anything we're capable of conjuring with our scepters."

Seth frowned in confusion. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you can't project a barrier, which, now that we've reached this point unscathed, makes you completely useless." She thrust the crate at him. "You will stay behind in this room and gather up all the important data. The shelves contain hard copies of the majority of the plans for the artifice, along with the records of most of the tests. Vitally, the most recent and successful one's data is being printed right now-- Make sure you don't miss it."

"Wait," he protested, put-off. "You're telling me to just sit here and collect paperwork? While you go and confront Hamilcar?"

"Not just collect paperwork," she corrected him. "You'll also be here for your friends sake if things go sour and they have to pull away from the battle. You can all hold up here or flee while I do what must be done. Or, in a disaster scenario where this body is destroyed, do your best to flee back up while collapsing the passage around you. The sanctuary's defenses aren't active here, so you should be safe from any automated retaliation. I think."

"Truly, I am filled with confidence," Kam said.

Seth looked frustrated. "I came with you because I wanted to be a part in getting justice for Bardiya. Not to play secretary and not even see the guy."

Zeno's expression switched abruptly to one of lose patience, grimacing at him with annoyance. "Little boy, you're an acolyte Biomancer, and not even one specialized in battle arcana. Do you see any plants around here to manipulate? Any dirt?"

"I can defend myself," he protested. "I've done basic combat training, I know all the standard techniques--"

"If you try to shoot some pissy little fireball or lightning bolt at a grandmaster like Hamilcar, you'll be lucky if he doesn't block the eris transmission and turn your hand into a nice meaty soup," Zeno said, in an openly mocking tone. "Please have some fucking perspective. This is neither the time not the place for your adolescent dick-waving."

Seth grit his teeth, looking to the side.

"...be reasonable, Seth," Kamrusepa told him, leveling her gaze. "This is vital research we're talking about. It needs to be protected, and we're short on time. Hamilcar could notice us at any moment."

He grunted, and was silent for a few seconds. Eventually, however, he nodded reluctantly. "Fine, I'll take care of it. Just make sure you bring him down, right?"

She nodded. "Of course. I swear, we will bring Bardiya justice."

Seth snorted, still annoyed, but smiled at her just slightly.

"The files marked with red bars are the ones you want. Prioritize the ones with higher numbers," Zeno gave as a final instructions, and then flew straight towards the door leading deeper into the facility. When we took more than an instant to pick up on the fact we were intended to follow, she beckoned with her hand, frowning with irritation.

We proceeded quickly through the rooms, and across the metal bridges that connected them. The light and heat of the machine bore down from below ferociously every time we got close to the periphery. My heart was racing as we approached the moment of truth.

"It's just a guess, but I feel like Hamilcar has noticed us already," I said. "It's hard to tell with the Death-Sensing Arcana, but it seemed like he might've had a barrier."

"I would only expect as much," Zeno said, with a small chuckle. "You remember the instructions? Keep your barriers focused on me as well as yourselves so long as I remain within range, and if I signal, open fire on Hamilcar as a diversionary measure. It doesn't matter what with; it's only supposed to be a distraction. Beyond that, don't interfere." She turned to face forward. "That is, of course, if it comes to a battle at all."

"You seem rather confident in your victory, professor," Kamrusepa said.

"And justifiably, because I'm the much better arcanist! I've run circles around men like him my entire life," she said, matter-of-factly. "And of course, I'm not in any physical danger-- Unlike the rest of you."

"Truly inspiring," Kam shot back dryly.

"I provided you with an escape plan, did I not?" Zeno asked. "You protest too much."

"Hey, so," Fang said. "If we're planning to recover that part of the machine I brought, then maybe we should make a detour now? We're getting close to the big round room with the elevator-thing."

Zeno shook her head, a discontented frown starting to form on her lips. "No need for that. Hamilcar has done the legwork for us and obtained it himself it seems."

"Oh," they replied. "How do you figure?"

"Because I can see him through that window," they replied, with a gesture.

My gaze followed accordingly. As she had indicated, I could see, just in view behind another of the structures, the figure of Hamilcar standing on a platform protruding over the abyss, facing the beating heart of the great machine. In one of his hands, I recognized the sheath I'd seen Fang carrying yesterday, during the conclave.

In his other, he was holding a weapon. It was a rare sight in modern times - a staff, taller even then he was. It was covered in ornate bronze designs, and at its peak was the symbol of Golemancy - an outstretched hand with a hole in the center, representing labor without will. Except instead of just one, there were multiple hands folded in different directions, almost forming a bloom or a crown.

He surely must've heard us by now, even if he wasn't using any Divination. But for whatever reason, he didn't turn to face our direction. He simply continued staring, waiting.

We flew around the last corner, then out into the open air, descending to the balcony. This felt too easy, but somehow, I didn't suspect a trap, either. The atmosphere was strangely calm. He was still wearing the long, dark robe I'd last seen him donned in, the fabric laying still in the wake of the windless expanse, the air silent save for the now-omnipresent thrumming of energy from below.

"Hamilcar," Zeno said.

There was a pause, and then a strange sound from his mechanical mouth, like static. I wondered if it could be a sigh. "Zeno," he replied, sounding tired.

"We know what happened," she told him, narrowing her eyes. "That you've been in contact with the girl. Your 'niece'. We found the record of her using the logic bridge, and she confessed to everything. Your relationship, and how you worked together."

Hamilcar was silent.

Zeno seemed strangely irritated by this, her brow twitching. "Well? Are you going to deny it? And for that matter, would you care to explain where you've been for the past 12 hours, and why you're carrying that artifice in your hand?" She narrowed her eyes. "And what do you know about the scripted commands in the administrative core? Tell me."

He continued not to respond.

"Hamilcar," Zeno hissed, her knuckles tightening around her scepter. "Say something."

"When I was a young man," Hamilcar began, his tone level, "I felt such anger towards the world, I can't begin to convey it rationally. Because of my injury, I felt cheated out of the youth I could have enjoyed - the life I was meant to have - and craved a second chance more than anything, untainted by that one, terrible event event." He paused for a moment. "Though my father had spoken of his work since I was a boy, in truth, I was never passionate for it-- Like most of the young, death was not immediate enough for me to comprehend the desire for truly eternal life. Rather, I merely wanted an escape. From my situation... The physical reality of my body."

"Is this a confession?" Kamrusepa muttered, confused.

"At the time, it was pure escapism - a retreat into fantasy that drove my actions simply because I had nothing else. But as the years passed, the prospect slowly edged closer to the realm of reality," he continued, wistful. "Science advanced, and it became possible to rejuvenate ones physical self to a great degree. As of today, it is fair to say we have reached the point where the clock can truly be turned back to 0. I could return to who I was before that day, and start again." He rose the metal hand holding the sheath, and looked at it strangely. "But with the passage of time, I came to understand something. As well as my body, my mind had taken on deformed shape itself. The world grew less beautiful to me, and the place I wanted to return to less clear." He lowered his hand, slowly. "Human beings are creatures engineered to specialize for specific roles, and to remain in them until they cease to exist. I had misunderstood myself, and reality. What I'd wanted to reclaim wasn't something material, but what the material reality had dictated. Possibility. Innocence." He looked upwards at the structure towering over our heads. "What would you think, if you could see us now, old friend?"

Suddenly, Zeno's scepter arm shot up, her fingers on both hands twitching with machine like precision. A bolt of white light, soundless, shot out and careened through the air towards Hamilcar at an incredible speed, so vivid that I shut my eyes by instinct.

Somehow he must've deflected it - or maybe it was a warning shot - because an instant later, it suddenly pivoted to the other direction. It went far, far to the right, before ultimately striking the cavern wall with a thunderous crack that, for just an instant, made the entire area blaze with the light of the sun and sent roaring fire spiraling in all directions, like a massive firework.

Kamrusepa and I looked on in shock, our mouths open. Zeno looked angry in a way I hadn't seen before, her eyes wide and mouth curled into an expression of cold fury that was, somehow, still childish.

As the light and sound began to dim, Hamilcar let out a long sigh.

"Zeno," he said, after a few moments. "Must we continue with this farce? ...even now, that judgement truly has fallen upon us?"

"What the fuck are you going on about, you half-dead imbecile? What 'farce'?" she said, sneering. "Have you lost your mind?"

Finally, Hamilcar turned.

It occurred to me that I'd never got a great look at him yesterday, from up in the stands. In most regards, he looked the same. The bald head. The off-color, half-covered and destroyed face.

But there was something I had missed before. And that, to put it bluntly, was how fucking sad he looked.

"Your suspicions are correct," he confessed, his tone suddenly strangely blunt. "I conspired with Mehit's daughter to engineer the death of Miss Ic'Nal, her brother, and Durvasa as well. I am also responsible for the threatening transmissions."

Zeno's face contorted in shock. "Why?"

"Because our cause is futile and self-destructive," he said. Even now, his tone still had that plain quality. "We have mingled in forces we had no right to, and now we must stop, lest we pay the price."

"What the fuck does that even mean? You've talking like some deathist priest." Zeno spat the word like it was an insult. "What's this really about? I deserve better then this idiotic pretense."

But Hamilcar didn't reply. Instead, slowly, he raised his staff.