Sothing from the ripple activated the paraters.
I nearly focused on it before realizing that the last ti Id done sofor the conjuration branchit resulted in a sprawling multiple choice that took a considerable amount of ti to sift through. With no imdiate conflicts and the rest of my team lounging beachside, it was tempting. I put it off, not wanting to rush advancent while I was still off balance. Instead, I fished around in my inventory for the artifact.
And found nothing.
I summoned a health potion to ensure my inventory hadnt failed, then tried to withdraw the ring again.
Nothing.
Panicked, I checked my pockets, the small mostly unused pouches on the anywhere I could have accidentally stuffed it in the heat of the mont and found nothing. I was double-checking everything, a hairs breadth from dumping out the entirety of my inventory onto the elevator when I felt a slight pressure on one of my fingers. Sothing unfamiliar.
I removed my gauntlet. And swallowed.
There, crowning my third finger, was a simple band of silver tal. There was only one explanation. A ring I was utterly sure Id placed in my inventory, had sohow equipped itself.
Despite that, it pulled free easily. Cradled in the center of my palm, its weight was so light it felt like I wasnt holding anything at all.
Insidious.
Over every other adjective rolling through my headunbalanced, broken, overpowered, ga-changerthe word insidious scread inside my mind like a signal flare.
The concept of a bound item was alarming enough. Id heard enough horror stories about cursed weapons and items in fiction to balk at the idea of an item that bound to my person. At best, it would forever take up a potential item slot and beco literally irreplaceable. At worst
Well, that wasnt a small list.
I stepped off the elevator with barely enough foresight to check that no one from my Order team was nearby. There was an abnormally high number of people in line for the elevator, all of whom were in considerably lower spirits than earliernews of the chaos in the lobby had probably reached this floor by now, so they either planned to gawk or get clear of the tower in fear the elevators might shut down.
After giving the crowd one last scan to ensure none of my team was present, I retreated into the floor, away from the elevator and towards the ripple.
My scattered thoughts returned to the ring. Specifically, its na. The Devils Share. Its accompanying system text claid it required two additional uses to bind. At first that seed like an error, or perhaps, a holdover from a previous user. If soone had it before , maybe theyd used it a handful of tis before throwing it away.
That felt wrong.
I worked my way backward, reviewing every event that followed the system awarding the artifact. Shortly after I received it, Id thought Ellison had died. Rationally, that made little senseeven less so now that I had so distance from it. He sounded like hed been doing this for a long ti, and therefore it stood to reason that a person in his position was capable of affecting large-scale change. Whatever impact saving both Miles and myself might have, we wouldnt cast a shadow to the sort of paradigm shifts Ellison could achieve over a loop. Throwing all that potential away to save two Users was more than sloppy; it was downright stupid. Stupid in a wling sentintal way that was entirely out of character for my brother even before the do.
Still, I wasnt thinking rationally. Emotion took over, and Id obliterated two stone coffins with nothing more than my fist.
How?
I pulled off my other gauntlet and flexed my fingers out, inspecting my knuckles for damage. They were pristine.
Did I cast without even realizing it? I looked inward and found that my stores were regenerating at their normal pace, bordering on half. The last fringes of a headache still plied at my temples. When I broke the coffins my mana was low, bordering on depleted. A normal cast could have easily blacked out.
If I had cast reflexively, the comparative drain was almost nothing.
But it was the ease with which Id used it that chilled . I reviewed the mont again and again, trying to find so elent I was missing. So ntal prompt or ideation that the ring translated as a desire to use the ability. The closest I found was that I hadnt tried to strike the surface of the coffin. Id tried to strike through it.
The sa thing happened with Miles. I hadnt even considered using to persuade him, because as opposed as we were, that was thoroughly outside the rules Id set for myself, but the ntal pushback slamd against as if I had.
Was that all it took? Desire?
I fought the urge to throw the artifact as far as I could.
If my theory was right, the re existence of intrusive thoughts made the ring a do-not-fuck-with proposition of the highest order. Sure, in a general sense it let you punch far above your weight class and chuck significantly more fireballs before you needed to rest. But what about later, when there was no threat, and so entitled asshole cut the dinner line in front of you?
Like duct-taping a loaded firearm with a hair-trigger to the hands of soone with no concept of gun safety.
And if a normal mage lost control, started attacking neutral parties and allies, that specific situation would inevitably equalize itself. The guy obviously raining down magic indiscriminately eventually gets clipped. Natural order. But if an Ordinator lost control?
No. I needed to get rid of it.
But
The Crimson Nosferatus harrowing visage appeared in my mind, along with the heart-stopping power it radiated. Id managed getting Miles clear, and even landed a parting shot, but I hadnt been able to do anything to help with the heavy lifting. Not really.
Considering that Ellison had gone through this so many tis hed lost count? The casual manner with which hed made preparations, all-the-while bringing up to speed? The Nosferatu probably didnt even rank all that high on his list of priorities. Things were going to get worse. Like the events that led to the Allfathers mask, it all ca down to the sa sobering equation. The prisoners dilemma. Any power I left on the table was power soone else would take. Either directlyfinding the ring, putting it onor indirectly, by gaining a similarly powerful artifact while I surrendered mine. And Ellison made sure it had ended up with , instead of Miles.
I wavered.
There was no point in using it if it crippled , but there was only one way to get definitive confirmation that it would.
My breath grew shallow as I pulled up the rings description, magnified the text so that overlayed a large swath of my vision, fully prepared to rip it off the second the number decreased.
Nothing happened.
More testing was in order. I went a little deeper into the forest, parallel to the line for the elevator. Not so far that I couldnt make them out, but far enough that theyd have a difficult ti spotting , and dialed the mask up to full power. This test was hardly scientific. Hell, I couldnt even repeat it. If uses remaining decreased, Id look for the closest thing to Mordor. But if it didnt? If I could keep the intrusive thoughts in line through discipline and self-control, and be reasonably sure I could use the ring safely?
The possibilities were limitless.
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