Path of the Deathless 363 Split [IV]

They are not invincible. They are not immortal. They are not beyond our ability to kill.

I want you to repeat this to yourself every day. I want you to repeat this to yourself every ti you rember what you've suffered at their hand. Repeat it when you see your reflection in the mirror, in a filthy puddle, or say the words in total darkness if no light shines in your life.

Gods are not omnipotent. They are not undefeatable. They can be laid low by mortal hands!

It is known as the thods of Deicide in Chorus, where its practitioners have waged wars for a thousand thousand years, and a thousand thousand gods and pantheons have fallen and risen in that ti.

The scaffolding of a god is faith, and faith is spawned from the most failable of beings: us, Pathbearers, fragile of heart and prone to hypocrisy and self-delusion as much as base arrogance and all the vices you can na.

To see a god perish, one must adopt the fur of the wolf and lead the pack astray. Breach their places of worship, commingle with true worshippers, and make them tear at each other. Make them debase and self-mutilate the very tenets of their own faith, and the god supping from their worship in turn. Force a God of War to choose Peace, and vice versa. Force a God of Hunger to starve and a God of Innovation to choose Stagnation.

These things can be engineered because gods, boundless as their power may seem to those suffering under their yoke, ultimately live under the sa heel as all of us.

The System dictates the rules.

Oh, so gods say they are its hands, that they are the System made manifest.

I say these are lies and feeble delusions of galomania in equal asure! The ravings of those who could not rise alone!

HEAR THESE WORDS AND KNOW THEM TO BE TRUE: THE GODS ARE LESSER THAN THE LEAST OF US!

IF THEY COULD NOT EVEN MANTLE THEIR OWN MIGHT, WHY SHOULD WE NOT BE ABLE TO STRIKE THEM DOWN, THEY WHO ARE BORN FROM THE WORST OF OUR WEAKNESSES?

But, if sabotage and destruction are not enough to drag their heaven down to the earth, if their might appears that insurmountable, then try making the god actually sothing worth worshiping.

Try changing them into a thing of goodness.

—The Heretic’s Guide to Anti-Theism, Authors Unknown

363

Split [IV]

“No!” Adam scread, casting his head back and forth. He struggled against the Challenger's grip. He tried finding his bow, tried calling it to his grasp, but the Challenger's grip was truer than the laws of reality. Adam could not move, not of his own volition. The only thing the orc god allowed was the twisting of his head and the desperate tightening of his facial muscles.

“Choose,” the Challenger repeated, unmoving as skills potent enough to sunder mountains and more continued to crash down upon him from every direction in the room. His voice was calm, but there was a rumble of thunder about in the aftermath, a promise of storms to co. “You must choose. You truly must. It is only proper. After all, I have ceded a Legend to you, and I do not even ask for a Legend in return. rely a Pathbearer, one that might be in desperate need of power. Think of this: Your father, enslaved to the Starhawk's will, has been bound to his fate, yet he's never truly enjoyed martial mastery. Not like the kind I shall bestow upon him, the opportunities to experience. Your mother, weak now, would take years to regain her forr glory, and by then, what would she be? A feeble fledgling among Legends and potential Myths. And then there is your beloved, oh, poor Isabella Van Stormhalt. If only she'd chosen to wed soone unfavored. If only she'd chosen to follow her mind instead of her heart. Her life wouldn't be consud by such tumult.”

Though Adam knew the Challenger was taunting him, he couldn't help but suffer regret. There was truth in the words, after all. He thought about Isabella, who was on death's doorstep, delirious, incapable of even holding on to her sense of self or her mories.

Adam didn't want to consider it, but part of him wondered if this… was the right choice after all. If there were a potential path for everyone to be satisfied. Isabella would be potentially cured if she could maintain her pacifism. He knew that Orcish Skills didn't change you imdiately. That there was a chance that if you fused the skill or if you waited it out, the skill could be pacified.

But Adam also had another insight. The Challenger was devoid of Heroism, barren of true goodness or generosity. Nothing he offered was for free. Everything had a price, a cost, and ultimately a benefit to the Challenger himself. Whoever Adam gave would likely be taken, one way or another.

Despite Adam's earlier words, he knew the Challenger was more monster than fool.

The orc god leaned in, his head the size of Adam's body. The primitive ape hidden deep inside Adam's flesh began to scream, for a predator had breached its comfort zone and co to claim a pound of flesh. “I've been very polite to you, little Godling, but if you will not choose, then I will choose for you. I have told you that I refuse to kill these practitioners of war, fine and brilliant ones that they are, but that does not an I cannot find another use for them. That does not an I cannot squeeze truer potential from their supple flesh. If you do not choose, then I will see them transmuted into a form that is perhaps more to my liking than yours.”

And the Challenger laughed heartily. “I wonder what might traumatize you more: an orc hatching from the remains of your father, your mother, your beloved, or soone under your charge?”

Slowly, the Challenger’s open mirth died down, changed to beco sothing of an assuring smile, as if he was sure Adam would make the right choice, and as he looked into his eyes, Adam began to truly believe it. The Challenger was playing and plucking at Adam's emotions. Even if his contagious rage couldn't affect him from the outside, his Social Skills were like a scalpel, jabbing and pricking at Adam, provoking him toward a cliff of greater despair. “And that is truly the easiest option. Think of it. Give in to it. Embrace it. Just give soone from your holand. Soone from Blackedge. Soone you are more than willing to lose. Give one of your subjects, one that you do not know the na of, one of the survivors who would have made nothing of themselves otherwise. It is the smoothest choice for your heart, one that will not siege your ego beyond an eternity of regret. Such is the greatest rcy you can offer yourself, and I can offer you. I am a most rciful God, for rcy exists in War, and it too is one of my Domains, for what great fear can arise when you know that only tornt awaits? It is the promise of heaven that leaves hell such a miserable den of depravity.”

The longer Adam deliberated, the clearer the Challenger’s cruelty beca. The choice itself was ant to hurt Adam and also potentially to damage his Domain, for there was nothing heroic about casting an innocent into the jaws of a wolf. “You want to see if you can break my Domain prematurely. Is that it?”

“I am curious as to the durability of your little burgeoning Divinity, yes, but I have a feeling it will survive a crack, just as I have survived many cracks. Domains are not nearly as fragile as skills. The pain is imnse, of course, and the ti it takes to heal a riven Domain can exceed centuries. But if you survive, then you will look back upon your past weakness with fondness, as they are nothing compared to newer and greater wounds.”

Adam scowled at the greater god. “Then… here is my turnabout: I challenge you to live up to your godhood. I challenge you to struggle against properly. Give one of your skills to . Let it fester inside and see if it changes . See if you get a new orc out of the deal, perhaps a second fledgling god orc. An orc God of Heroism.” Adam laughed bitterly as he tried to imagine that. “Wouldn't that be quite the prize?”

“I would defile you that way if I could, little Godling.” The Challenger's voice turned into a rumble of pure frustration. “But there is sothing about your unique Divinity, sothing I do not understand, that refuses to let infest you. You burn and my power; it peels off of you, as I said before. No, you are not a candidate. I already tried the mont I laid eyes on you. You are a fledgling, a child that is neither proper Legend nor proper god, and still I was to give you the honor of being my Nesis! But then my oath in divinity slid off of you like it was worth nothing.”

The orc god breathed out through his nostrils, his face a mask of offense. “And now, here you are, still burning, still pure, still untarnished, taunting with your soul’s defiance. It is only due to my own impotence that my offense has taken this refined form, little Godling. I have an urge to see you break. No, you are not a choice. You are not an option. Choose soone else. Or I will pick for you. I will not repeat myself.”

Yet, before helplessness could overtake Adam, another voice joined the conversation, doing so with a wet cough of pain. “Hey, Fucker! You didn't need to torture . I know you godsdamn didn't. Those skills would have healed on their own.”

The Challenger granted Adam a mont's reprieve. His attention drifted toward the one clasped in his other colossal hand, surrounded by a buzzing swarm of flies, by chains of maggots, by that vile, fetid incandescence that flowed from the Challenger. So of the orc god's Divinity boiled Shiv from the inside, but rather than simply inflicting pain, it seed to restore him. Instead of being the frail, worn puppet hanging limp in the Challenger's grasp that Adam was, Shiv's head was held high.

The Challenger pursed his lips in mock surprise.“Bruiser, you recover so quickly.”

“Don't give that shit,” Shiv spat. “You're the one who perford bastardized soul surgery on . Felt like you filled with a bag of knives and shook around.”

“Oh, I didn't know you were one to let pain bother you. How uncharacteristic.”

“Fuck you. I can handle pain. Doesn't an I like it.” Shiv grunted, but it was a noise of pure annoyance rather than anything else, and in that mont, despite all the new gifts Adam had obtained, despite his faint Divinity, he was more envious of his friend than ever. “But never mind that. You want to stick a skill in soone? Shove it inside . A second round for you, the chance to make things even, all on . Let's do this again. In fact, I got just the skill for you to make better.”

“Bruiser, how terribly inappropriate of you. This is utterly impolite.” The Challenger chastised Shiv by tutting at him, the sa way a father would his idiot son. “This is not your choice to make, nor your burden to take on.”

But Adam didn't hesitate. He knew then the best choice had presented itself. “I choose Shiv! Shiv! Give him the skill!”

Shiv snorted. “Yeah, see? He chose . Easy. Done. Give the skill!”

The Challenger frowned at the both of them like they were two children performing a badly thought-out prank. “I reject this choice, obviously. You have undergone this ordeal once and cannot do it again, Insul. Your soul is already inoculated. You've proven yourself formidable. Which is more than half the reason why I chose you to be my Nesis-Commander on Integrated Earth.”

“Coward,” Shiv spat, writhing in the Challenger’s iron grip. “You're a god, aren't you? You make the rules. Change them. Take another swing at . Let's see if you can corrupt my pre-Legendary skill. Apparently, it's really restricted. Even got a Myth to jump .”

The Challenger humd. “Ah, yes, Harbinger of Tripartite Ruin. A very, very special skill. But no. For one, I do not have the specific corresponding Domain—and do not wish to risk obtaining a Domain that is Anathema to Strife.”

That took both Shiv and Adam by surprise.

“What? You're saying you don't have an Orcish counterpart to the skill? How?” Shiv didn’t believe the Challenger, but the orc god just sighed.

“I may be War incarnate, Deathless, but that doesn't make all-powerful and omnipotent. This skill exists beyond the reach of my Domains, and I do have many, with Trauma, Psychology, and Ti being among them, and being close to representing your skill in part, but Reasonableness? Diplomacy? Introspection?”

The Challenger shook his massive head. “Not so, Little Bruiser, not so. To this end, I must offer my congratulations. You've truly outdone yourself, and you've spread beyond blind violence. Now you co into your true potential. Your grandmother would be so proud. That whisper of the Chandler blood inside you does not disappoint, or perhaps it's simply thanks to your experience. After all, too many congratulate nature when in fact it was nurture that sowed the seeds.”

This content has been misappropriated from ; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

And then, almost imperceptibly, the right side of the Challenger's face twitched. A hint of irritation overtook him. “But quite honestly, the lack of a Domain and the inconvenience that causes isn't the real reason. I think I should be direct with you, Bruiser. I will not invest you with a new skill. I will not break my own laws, not because I cannot or that it will cause fissures to spread through my soul—hairline, though the fractures might be. No, I refuse above all else because I have faith in you, and ironically, that kills all strife for this contest. There is no tension, no possibility of you failing. Your Legendary Harbinger is already designed to consu anger, and even without it, you devour fury like it's fuel. No, no, no. I believe in you. I have faith in you. I, in this regard, worship you. There is no doubt. And so there cannot be war.”

The outpouring of confessions overwheld Shiv. “I have other skills—”

“But apparently not a Listening or a Comprehension skill.” The Challenger clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I told you. You have already undergone this ordeal once and survived. I cannot have you again. Do not make repeat this a third ti, for I will not.”

The Challenger's eyes briefly flicked to Uva before turning away. He shook his head as his disappointnt mounted. “Recently, I would have considered this one, for she is still affected by , and there was a skill inside of her I would have liked to see infested. Yet that is now Unique; I cannot find it. It is specifically part of her, not a simple fragnt, but essential to her being. Her Psychomancy has rged, gone beyond being rely eldritch. It's fusing with her on a fundantal level. And I resent that. I resent the bastard gods of the Outside claiming this one before I could. But resentnt will not undo what has happened. Which leaves the choices I offered before.”

But while the Challenger engaged with Shiv, Adam found himself drawn to another presence, another radiating source of mana. He thought it was Hymn at first. The Headmaster was still hiding behind his veil of nightmarish eyes, but there was another source of eldritch mana beside Hymn and Uva.

Discarded beside the Culturist, barely visible through the haze of detonating magical skills, was an egg, wrought from the ruined husk of Longinus. An egg that contained the forr Avatar of the Wanderer—a copy of Georges. He was wrapped inside a colorful cocoon, and the Dreamtaker had embraced him and undergone an evolution of her own.

And suddenly an idea ca to him, one he was uncertain about, but one that seed far better than any other choice he had. Georges was already contaminated by the eldritch, had already been traumatized and stained by Longinus's divinity. For the Challenger to infuse an orc skill into the mix, maybe that could be a wrench in the works rather than a bestowal of a Curse.

But is that Heroism? Is that right? Is condemning soone who has already been made a victim so long to suffer even more—no, no. Godsdammit, no! There’s no good choice here! Just no good choice!

***

Pillar of Orichalcum 422 > 461

Vitality Drain 172 > 204

Inertial Overdrive 331 > 355

Aegis of Assimilation 145 > 149

Legion of Self 114 > 144

These Words of Truth and Adoration 52 > 66

The Snake Entombed of Lightning and Thunder 52 > 60

A Glimpse of Perspective 94 > 97

Aside from a bout of horrific suffering, the Challenger had done good work in rebuilding Shiv's broken soul. All his skills were now returned and bestowed their rightfully earned levels. A rush of power pulsed through Shiv, and it continued cascading and building.

It wasn't enough. He was stronger than ever before. He'd gained more than ever before, and his options were wider than ever before. He wasn't just a brute anymore.

But it still wasn't enough.

Not when it ca to the Challenger.

Shit. Harbinger? Any other ideas? We can try to keep provoking him. He's a God of War, so maybe we can frustrate him enough that—

"There is nothing we can do that will frustrate him enough. Perhaps there is nothing anyone can do." For the first ti, the Harbinger sounded resigned. And more than that, it seed unnerved. Shiv gazed into the emotional core of the Challenger, and though the orc god could feel an impossibly vast array of emotions at once, there was no instability there. His mind was great, a colossal expanse of knowledge and mory, but it was also in perfect harmony.

The Challenger was a god of Strife, War, Desolation, but he himself was paradoxically serene. "He stands opposite to Longinus or Sullain,” the Harbinger whispered. “They were consud by a broken mind and a broken heart. Nothing consus the Challenger. His will is enchained by his reason, and his mind is an unbreachable temple of wisdom. We cannot taunt him. We cannot provoke him. We cannot predict him, for he understands himself better than anyone, as he might understand us better than we do. Most importantly, he understands what I can do, and he will not fall to such folly as Evanescia or Produveral have."

But there has to be sothing! So kind of emotional weakness. Maybe so kind of psychological flaw?

"If it exists, we have not mastered his nature nearly enough to perceive it."

“There isn't.”

Shiv went absolutely still. The Challenger repeated his declaration once more. “There isn't. I know what you are thinking. The last person to use the Harbinger on tried the sa thing, reacted the sa way, before I tore her in half. Your silence, your montary considerations, it gives you away. You need to be faster, Bruiser. You need to spend more ti thinking at length ahead of the conversation, not during. Many Pathbearers think they are gifted at improvisation. Incorrect! They are simply lazy. They are unprepared, and so they allow the preparation to happen in the mont. Sotis, they are creative, which makes up for their deficiency. But we should not accept such deficiencies. I expect more from you, just as I expected more from myself. We are proper instrunts of War, you and I. Even if we disagree on the grounds of morality, we still hold the ideals of being a Pathbreaker sacred, and so you must live up to that ideal. No more, how do you put it…” The Challenger smirked. “Half-assing.”

Shiv hadn't been a brute for a long ti, but the Challenger might never have been one at all. In prior conversations, Shiv was guided by his social intuition. His natural talent for psychology and his knack for interactions guided his words and thoughts; above all, though, Shiv was a bloodhound for any kind of weakness born of mind and heart.

But the Harbinger was right. There was no such vulnerability in the Challenger. In fact, for the first ti, Shiv thought himself utterly and completely outmatched. The Challenger lood over him like a dark reflection. Shiv was no orc, but within the brutal god, there was a representation of what Shiv could beco even if he didn't go divine. Here was the embodint of power. Here was soone capable of terrible calamity, yet utterly in control of themselves.

"A virtuous monster is the worst adversary a hero can face," the Harbinger whispered. "There is no hubris we can strike at, for as an individual, they are far less flawed than we. But that doesn't an we are without options. We don't need to best him. This does not need to be a fight. We can still bargain. He respects you. He has faith in you, and that gives us a asure of control, the slightest bit of leverage. Use it."

Imdiately, Shiv centered his mind. And he sighed. “What do you want aside from abusing Adam?”

“Abusing?” The Challenger frowned, almost offended by Shiv's words. “I am not abusing him; I am testing him. I am putting my weight upon him and seeing where he creaks and cracks. And this is not just about cruelty. This is about an exchange.”

“Okay, so he took the Culturist from you—and you're going to make him do what? Pick between his dad, his fiancée, his mom, or soone else? You're trying to make him compromise his Heroism?” Shiv shook his head. “I'm disappointed. I really am.”

“Oh, co now, Deathless, don't play these psychological gas with . I have played them eons before you were born. They are fun when your victim is vulnerable in such a way, but neither of us is a victim in this regard. Please do not treat as such.”

“I'm not treating you like a victim; I'm just thinking that you're uncreative.” Shiv hesitated as he made eye contact with Adam. The Paragon flicked his eyes leftward, and Shiv nearly betrayed his confusion. What was Adam trying to hint at? He didn't have ti to figure that out—he needed to keep this going. “I know Adam, and if your psychology is as good, no, fuck that, you're better at this than I am. I can feel it, and that feeling inside of has never been wrong. And so, if my intuition is good enough to know what might hurt him, then yours is too.”

The Challenger tilted his head. “Go on.”

Shiv took a mont to organize his thoughts, and a faint pull originated from within the Challenger. Shiv’s Rhetoric Skill indicated he had the orc god’s attention. “Look, I have my own issues with Roland, but let's be honest, that orc skill is wasted on him. Roland is not weak. Roland will beat that skill. He will fuse it. You know he will. I know he will. You have faith in ? Well past my bad blood, I have faith that Roland Arrow is going to make you waste that skill.”

Adam's face contorted in horror. “Shiv, what the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.

Shiv ignored his friend and continued. “There's no fight with Roland, no struggle. The outco is already decided, so I don't think he's your good choice here. Now, there's Adam's mom. The thing about her, she's plenty pissed at baseline anyway.”

“And so she's the better candidate?” the Challenger asked.

“No, she's still a pretty bad candidate, but that's for another reason. She's only been back for what, a few months at most? Adam barely knows her. I have no idea if she can fuse or wait out your orcish skill, but I can tell you this much: losing her will hurt Adam. It'll sting sothing bad. It'll traumatize him. But I'm pretty sure that he'll manage. He will live to hate you, and if you want to start a rivalry that'll see Adam co for you the sa way I'll co for you down the line, sure, go ahead. But this isn't going to test his Heroism at all. Not enough emotional weight.”

The Challenger nodded slowly in contemplation. “If you are trying to lead back toward yourself or your lover, I fear your words are wasted.”

“Trust , I'd love to dance with you again and make you swallow that shit—and thinking about you putting an orc skill in Uva fills my guts with a kind of hate I can’t describe. But no. Not us. Not Isabella or so random person from Blackedge either.”

“And why not? What does your Harbinger tell you? That the young godling is strong enough to survive his grief?”

Shiv shook his head. “That the way you are going about this is closer to a God of Cruelty than War. War is about fighting, isn't it? About dominating your enemy? About beating them down?”

“Partially. Go on.”

“Well, you're turning away from war now. You're acting like a god of petty torture, or whatever sick Domains there are. Yeah, if you want Adam to hurt himself and to betray himself, sure, have him give up one of his family mbers as a sacrifice. Push him to the brink. That's going to traumatize him bad. But you forgot sothing. I'm still here. Uva’s still here. We're not going to let him break. You rip him apart; we will put him back together. Better than you put back together. And there is no fight there. As you got faith in , have faith in these words: I will keep Adam sane. No matter what. But if you are a God of War, if you are a God of Strife, then you will know that I'm right when saying that you don't want to put that orc skill in one more ti. You're sure that I'll win? Fine, but isn't your na literally the Challenger? Why are you letting a little thing like Adam not taking your skill on the first try stop you? Why aren't you trying to figure out why that even is? Why aren't you trying to win?”

And as Shiv wove his new narrative, every word he spoke filled him with a greater discomfort. He couldn't even look at his friend, but in his heart of hearts, he knew this was what Adam wanted. Adam was self-sacrifice. Adam was noble to the core, but this was Shiv pushing him onto the blade.

And it just felt godsdamn wrong. But he couldn't stop. There were no better options. He had to see this through if he possibly could.

“Just think about it,” Shiv insisted. “Think about it. I can handle whatever grief you inflict on Adam. You know what the Harbinger can do. I haven't tested my ability to break emotions inside people, but you bet your ass I'll do that to him if it ans stopping him from being swallowed by his own grief. But if you want to inflict a real war on soone, if you want soone worthwhile back in exchange for losing the Culturist, there is only one actual fight here.”

Finally, Shiv mustered the strength to look at Adam, and he saw such hope in his friend's eyes, such gratitude. It made Shiv sick to his stomach.

“His Haunting Omniscience. It's already too powerful for him. It's ripping his mind apart. You can feel it. You're the only reason he's not insane right now. I want you to imagine inflicting an orcish skill that's a mirror of his Awareness on him after finally peeling through his weird Divinity. Imagine the rage he would constantly feel every waking mont. Imagine that. Imagine the struggle Adam would have to go through if he, extrely favored, with an invasion of his Gate on the horizon, couldn’t kill, and warred against his own rage.”

The magnetic pull Shiv had over the Challenger grew stronger with every word. “Imagine the irony. Imagine the thematic triumph. Adam burned away the itch inside the Culturist. Now think about him falling to your influence. He failed to convince you earlier because he was desperate, and that scratched your itch. Well, right now I'm telling you to ignore your itch in favor of your Divinity. This is War. There is a question, and I can't answer it. I don't think you can either. I don't know if Adam can beat your skill, especially when your skill is attached to his Legendary Awareness. I don't know, but don't you want to find out? After all, there is no war like a war with yourself, right? We can always be our own worst enemies. Especially when it cos to a Delve. So I'm gonna ask you again, Challenger: Are you nothing more than the incarnation of cruelty, or do you actually want to see a fight? Because out of all of these choices, there’s only one that has any real tension.”

Seconds passed.

Skills and spells from Pathbearers possessed of Legendary power smothered the Challenger with as much fervor as they did every second of the last few minutes, but evoked no reaction.

The levels ca first.

Harbinger of the Tripartite Ruin 281 > 284

These Words of Truth and Adoration 66 > 71

The smile followed thereafter.

The Challenger’s barrel chest swelled, and then he began to laugh. And Shiv felt a relief brighter than the dawn rise inside. “Using the truth as a leash. Well done, Deathless. Well done. Where there were no flaws to exploit, you tried to appeal to my virtue, or what you assud to be such.” The god let out a sigh. “I can see what you're trying to do, sparing your friend his emotional anguish and also guiding toward what is truly a more exciting struggle. And if I must confess, I am indeed curious as to why it is hard to bless him. And I think I want to find out.”

Both Shiv and Adam slackened with relief. Shiv felt like his heart wasn’t being choked anymore.

“But for your desperate ddling, and this acquiescence I have granted you—a punishnt is in order. To balance things out.” And a crushing claw dug its nails in Shiv’s chest once more. The Challenger turned to face Adam with a beatific, knowing smile. “I thank you for the inspiration. Your thoughts are so very loud. And Deathless? A reminder: there are consequences and prices to be paid, even in victory!”

“No, no, no, wait, wait, wait!” Adam cried.

Shiv didn't know what the Challenger was talking about, why Adam was so panicked. Not until he saw a stream of festering divine essence leave the Challenger and pierce into the eldritch egg that remained of Longinus. The evolving eldritch egg that still held Georges inside. The Dreamtaker's cocoon promptly ignited with the foul touch of war. And before Shiv could beg the Challenger to stop, he was flung aside as the orc god drove both hands into Adam's chest and began prying.

And with it ca an anguished shriek that would follow Shiv into his nightmares.