Chapter 45: Avoidance

Chapter 45: Avoidance

It's a beat before Gheraa responds, like he wasn't expecting me to notice or care. It's a beat I'm familiar with and one that makes a familiar heat grow beneath my skin anger at the Integrators, for all that Gheraa himself might be one of them.

It doesn't mean I trust him, but I'm intimately familiar with this.

"Nothing, nothing." Gheraa waves a hand dismissively, the movement only slightly ruined by the slight wince. "Give a man his dignity, will you? Just because I don't dress for the occasion one time..."

"That's not what this is, and you know it." My voice is sharp maybe sharper than it should be.

In the back of my mind, I know this could be a ploy to gain my sympathy. I do not trust the Integrators, and perhaps more importantly, I cannot trust the Integrators; the stakes are too high for me to make a mistake.

But Gheraa is an individual, even if he's part of a faction I can't trust. More than that, I don't need to trust someone to try to help them. I can't ignore the way he's limping, the blatant bruises on his neck and arms. It's been less than twenty-four hours since the last time we've met. How much could have changed in that time?

For a moment, Gheraa's expression changes. He looks at me with an expression that's suddenly serious, and I see the slight shake of his head. Don't push this, he seems to say, and I understand why, but I still clench my fists.

Figuring out a way to communicate without the Integrators watching has just gone much higher up on my priority list. Not that it wasn't high already.

"I'll make sure to dress well next time, since you insist," Gheraa says, letting out a dramatic sigh. He sits back on a makeshift Firmament platform that suddenly appears beneath him, molded perfectly to his back, and somehow manages to manifest a cane of Firmament as well. Threads of gold snake down his arms to cover up what look like bruises, and a thin, golden mask appears over his eyes. He sweeps into a deep bow, only barely hiding his wince. "Is this better?"

"No," I say, as dryly as I can manage. "...I hope you know what you're doing, Gheraa."

"You said my name!" Gheraa beams. "Are we on a first name basis, now?"

"Absolutely not."

"Very well, Mr. Hill." Gheraa looks disappointed. "I suppose you'll be wanting your Inspirations, then."

I eye the Integrator. "Mr. Hill is somehow even worse. I've changed my mind. You can call me Ethan. And yes, show me the Inspirations."

"Very well, Ethan," Gheraa says, putting absolutely unnecessary stress on my name. I roll my eyes. It's obvious that a lot of Gheraa's behavior is an act he doesn't even hide it.

Gheraa gestures, and three artifacts spawn in front of him, threaded together by golden Firmament.

The first looks like a wrench. The Strength that Binds, it's labeled, and Gheraa's introduction of it is simple. "You've spent a good deal of time attempting to imbue Firmament into objects," he says. "This Inspiration increases the force of your Firmament. You can use it to improve the strength of your skills directly, but you can also use it for imbuement."

He's not even hiding that he's directly telling me what they do now. I wonder if that has anything to do with what's changed since the last Inspiration. If he notices my concern, he doesn't comment on it, moving immediately on to the next

"This is all you've got for this one," he says.

"I want the Void." The words slip out of my mouth before I even think them I force myself to freeze before I step even closer, brushing past Gheraa and grabbing the Void Inspiration. I do not like what the Inspiration is doing to me. I do not like that it seems to be forcing me to choose it. It's clear that it has some kind of impact on my mind, and if this is what it can do without being integrated with me...

...and yet, I need an advantage.

"Are you sure?" Gheraa asks. His voice is quiet, this time, serious. He's still standing in front of the Inspiration like he's shielding me from its effects, and my mind is indeed quieter, so perhaps he is.

Picking the Void is asking myself a simple question: Can I resist its effects?

"Step aside, please," I say, and Gheraa complies. He remains silent as I approach the Void and hover a hand over it but I don't choose it. I let the voice of the Inspiration wash over me.

take, it says. hungry. take. grow. need more. need more. need more need more need MORE.

Hunger grows in the pit of my stomach. I see myself strong enough to tear Naru apart to rip off his feathers and punch through his skull. I see whole cities kneeling before my might, forced to bend to my will. I see myself with the power to crack a planet.

The feeling that surges forward is not desire. Disgust, hot and angry, curls in my chest, and I take another step forward.

No. I wrap the words in the force of my own Firmament, weak though it is in this Integrator generated space. Raw power of its own isn't the kind of strength I need, though it will certainly help. I take the lead. If the Void wants more, I will give it more, but I will give it more on my own terms.

No hunger for power. No endless quest for blood.

I need the power to right the wrongs that have been done.

The Void... hesitates.

what, the Void says. what.

It's confused, but it seems open to listening. More importantly, I've learned that I can overpower it with my own will. I respond with a simple answer.

I will show you.

I wrap a hand around the Void, and catch just before the Inspiration is complete, and the Void is integrated with my Firmament a glimpse of Gheraa's expression.

He looks stunned and confused, but in the smallest way, he seems hopeful.

I grin, and the world resumes around me.