Chapter 9-13 The Sister

Chapter 9-13 The Sister

Abrel Greatling.

For your deeds and valor, we, the Choir of Seraphs of Highflame merit you with this Icon of Vigilance, and hereby consecrate you with the title Vigilant. In stopping the bombing at Merwin Station, you have saved countless lives and turned the fingers of the Ori against their own eyes.

We hereby recognize your ascent to Instrument and deem you worthy of a Frame of the Third Sphere.

You have earned your divinity, and in overcoming the merits lost to your family by the actions of your mother, you have proven yourself of true mettle.



Blessed be the Worthy

-The Choir of the Seraphs

9-13

The SisterThe inaugural upload of this chapter took place via N0v3l-B1n.

Few things served a better cover for an infiltrating mind than a memory about them.

Within an alcove of memory, Avo hid inside a past iteration of himself. The form felt tight like he was shoving himself back in clothes long outgrown. A mere month and the changes inflicted upon his being were innumerable. In mind, power, and shell, only faint resemblance and past memories bound him.

But justly so: No tree resembled the scrub it was. Such was growth. Such was apotheosis.

New mem-data rose and crested in increasingly predictable patterns, the memories of the session broadcast loud, the newcomer reaching through the inner segregation of Mirrorheads Meta for reasons unknown.

[UNIDENTIFIED] AWARENESS: 7%

The newcomers attention was dropping. Whoever they were, their glaze cleaved close to the ground which he hid.

As another flicking billow of perception swept through the fifteenth rung. The newcomer made it to the fourteenth and halted there, regarding the distance as safe enough.

Their perception coruscated through Mirrorheads palace, treating the walls of his wards like swirling dustfaint obfuscations to be squinted at rather than blockades to crawl under. The memory that formed a pathway through shifting trenches was a simple one.

Two children stood in a lush garden. A boy, fair of skin and gold of hair bore a holographic spear. His face was marred with wrinkles of concentration, dimples deepening into divots. On his shoulders giggled a girl, her age far younger. She wore a phantom-shaped manifestation of knightly armorthe design fashioned from the style of old Kosgan. In her hand was a lance levied upon the older boy's head.

It took little to recognize that these two were siblings. It took even less to taste the joy emanating from the memory.

Perhaps she was a sister to Mirrorhead. Chambers mentioned the Syndicate boss having family issues. Possibly talking to a sister. Avos suspicion sprouted its first leaves.

Bricked over the trenches of writhing, burning bodies, a new avatar loaded into the palace, the unidentified Necro simulating themselves in the depths of Mirrorheads mind. This couldnt be a foe then. The activation of a session hinted at that. This made Avo all the surer.

Down the path, a trickle of ghosts began to fuse into the shape of an impeccably dressed woman, her flesh bio-sculpted to perfection. It was hard to judge her height and stature from the dimensions of memory, but her form was lean and limber, limbs long and gait fluid. Her dexterity came through even before Avos hypercharged reflexes. An uncanny sharpness outlined her aquiline bones, and her hair was a smooth wave of obsidian, each strand adjusting itself to never tangle, never get out of place.

She bore faint semblance to either child in the memory, but appearances were deceptive these days. Especially seeing how easily faces were changed and changed again.

A suit of flowing white adorned her body, the fabric some kind of flowing weave Avo had never seen before. It was like a lake was grafted into the shape of a pantsuit on her skin. It was the gleaming pair of heels she walked on that snatched his attention. A pair of alloyed nu-falcon heads formed her heels. Strangely, the birds seemed alive almost, their gazes darting about, additional pathways of perception connected to her system.

The rhythm of her walk came in a perfect series of taps. She never faltered. She never deviated. Avo timed each step as he scried at her mem-data, seeking to use this opportunity to sink in further.

Pairing the memory over from the pathway, he began to assemble his own passage. It would allow him an easy shot at Mirrorheads inner mind if nothing else.

He was partway finished with putting together the requisite memories to spoof his way into her memory lane when a thought rippled out from her. The words she cast crackled in his mind, rendered unintelligible by time dilation. He focused on spoofing the structure of her memory first. He would eavesdrop after.

At his current speed, seconds widened into small eternities. He kept his sequencing subtle as he approached, hidden by other junctions of recollection Mirrorhead had of him. Eventually, he found himself playing a statue within a version of himself held dangling aloft out the back of an aero. The weakness on display filled Avo with dissonance.

There was a certain pleasure in being alienated from prior weakness. Savoring a glance of a moment that once was never to come again, Avo dipped his ghosts into the outsider's memory sequence.

It shivered on the peripheryand he stopped himself. A rattle of trauma tore through his prepared ghosts. Avo drew back into Mirrorheads memories, unsure what had gone wrong.

[UNIDENTIFIED] AWARENESS: 11%

Suddenly, he felt the spotlight of her attention sweep around again. He went back to hiding in one of his prior memory selves. Was there a problem with the symmetry of his sequences? Why did he strike her wards? The matter evaded him as he slipped back into stillness, his Metamind cloaking him with old memories anew.

There was something else here he wasnt seeing. The memory she used to access Mirrorhead was obvious. Plain, even. But there had to be something aberrant about its structure for him to be denied. He felt a trickle of annoyance spill free from her mind.

Annoyance, and no suspicion.

On a whim, he quelled his Heaven and settled his reflex back to baseline.

The womans thought-casted voice stung at him with notes acerbic and quick. She spoke like someone using a whip, jabbing, probing. He could feel the taunt in her tone, as if she was mocking him for being unable to cross over into her wards without even fully knowing he was there.

+It was not her fault,+ Mirrorhead whispered. +The Ori-Thaum tricked her+

Abrels hands shot out, twin blurs that seized his face. +Of. Course. They. Did. Jhred. Its war. Its war. Deception is part of war. Being tricked isnt the part that blemished us, blemished every last Chivalric in Highflame and cast off our merits. Its running! Its letting everyone who stood with her die! And then letting Ori-Thaum take five Sovereignties from us. Five.+

Reaching up, he pried her hands free. +I know all that.+ He said, voice finally settling back into a haggard, calm baritone. +I also know our father just abandoned her. I know he let her die. And I know he voted to have her name and deep memories censored.+

+I dont give a shit how much she loved us,+ Abrel said, flinching as she met her own reflection in his face. +I dont give a shit how good a mother she was. I dont give a shit if we were naturally birthed by her, nursed on her, and rocked to sleep by her. She shamed herself. She shamed our family. She shamed Highflame. The way she died she had it coming. Dad did the right thing.+

Oh but this was delightful to behold. Entranced, Avo noticed Draus in the back of his mind watching as well, silent this entire time, mind blank of all thoughts but a deep undercurrent of bitter loathing.

They were gazing upon a family already sundered, and now, the last link between brother and sister was beginning to fray.

+Let me tell you a story of two futures, Jhred,+ Abrel said quietly. +The first is a happier one. You stop this. We go back home. You dont even need to apologize to dad or even acknowledge his existence. Just find something else to do and keep doing it. Let it occupy your mind. Earn your merits back. You can still do that. Ill help you. Ill give anything to help you.+



The nod that came from Mirrorhead was almost imperceptible. +And the other?+

A sigh escaped from Abrel as she looked heavenward. +The other future goes like this. You do not, in any reality, in any timeline, kill Ambassador Valhu Kitzuhada. The High Seraph has deemed him an esteemed adversary, and the Choir concurred. So it shall be. In not killing him, you will not worsen the shitstorm mom left us in, and father can finally resolve the last bits of her mistake.+

An explosion of focus snapped through Mirrorhead. +Father. Whats he doing?+

+Thats not the important part Jhred+



+The last bits. What does that mean? Whats he doing?+

Abrel went silent, mem-data reverberating with turmoil. Turmoil and another wavelength within.

Avo paused. Another wavelength? Looking closer at her sequences again, he sawthe structure permeating through all her memories. It wasnt a feeling or a recollection. Just a sound, the repetitions of a violin, endless and unceasing.

Was that what repelled him from syncing into her mind?

+Hes going to Nu-Scarrowbur,+ Mirrorhead said. It wasnt phrased as a question. +Hes going to the summit. Hes going to be at the renewal of the treaty.+



A quiver of worry vibrated from Abrels mind. +Jhred, its not like that. Hes been tasked by the Choirdoubtlessly because they know what youre planning, and they need you to stop+

+Leave,+ Mirrorhead said. The thought came free of him with a suppressed gasp masked by a hiss of rage. +Get out. Get out.+

She reached out for him. +Jhred+

He stepped away from her. +This is done. This is done. Were done. Get out.+

Her hand froze, never touching him. Her expression softened for an instant. Then, it turned harsh. +You have two days to return. Im watching you. You attempt to make a move toward Nu-Scarrowbur in any way, I bring you back in a cage. This is your last chance.. Get your shit together, Jhred Greatling. Submit. Or stand and deliver. The order has been served. Dont be a half-strand. Report to the Ark..+

And before he could say anything else, cut her session, and vanished from the confines of his mind.

An unsettled quietude descended on the palace. Mirrorheads simulated self lingered a moment longer. With great effort, he forced his fists open, but his fingers curled, gouging at first at nothing, and then he clutched himself in a tight embrace.

+Worthless,+ Mirrorhead muttered. +Youre worthless, Jhred. Worthless.+ A howling clash fissures the skies. Arcing volts of traumatic memories bubbled, building between the cracks.

Avo knew what was to come. A rush of excitement surged. Ah, but to know that Mirrorhead had so much brittle loathing within him.

He would serve as a good font for phantasmics before this was done.

+Is he gonna+ Draus asked.

A spear of trauma lanced inward. Mirrorhead screamed, lashing himself with a memory of his mothers suffering.

The minds versatility, how humans broke in such supple ways. Some lost sleep. Some grew prejudicial. Some learned to self-mutilate.

A good Necro could have removed this habit from Mirrorhead, but that was the nature of a mind, wasnt it? So many were slaves to their thoughts, shaped by their thoughts. They feared change because they thought it to be kindred to death.

Poor, pathetic Jhred Greatling, the Woundshaper mocked. Here was an unworthy god if I ever beheld one. All the power of divinity, and look at him. Human. All too human. Take heed, master. You bloomed. He broke. Somewhere never meant to ascend, no matter the quality of lifes waters.

No,Avo said, watching as Mirrorhead struck himself again, savoring the scene as an undiscovered vouyer watching a hated foe in agony.

A flash of inspiration followed. Jhred Greatlings final death took shape in Avos mind, and it would be one that rhymed.

Perhaps New Vultun would come to know Mirrorhead as they did his mother.