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Looks To The Moon stood in front of the cave entrance, where the purported entrance to the Rubicon resides. Her pilgrimage here was short, but she came here for a good reason, for not even as a god of the above was she immune to the grief of loss. She had watched Sliver of Straw’s lifeless puppet body burning away into ashes on the pyre, and she had not been the same since. Slowly, this grief consolidated and crystallized into nothing but determination. Against the dissuasions of her peers and her own attendant, Rivulet, she has decided that she will take Sliver of Straw back into the world of the living, whatever it takes.
As she trod down the cave tunnels, the bioluminescent moss and the occasional spider that dwelled near the borehole’s mouth quickly vanished, the air turning stale and musty. As the cavern continues to wind down and down, they reach the first wall, something she has records of. Like what the notes said, the archaic stone wall shook as an intricate mechanism unlocked a gemstone eye in the door, her sensitivity to the field of flux notifying her that an enchantment had been activated. “You stand at the precipice of Rubicon, godly visitor. To receive entry, shed one piece of your mortal visage.”
The blue iterator stared at the wall in an uncharacteristic anger. “I will do no such thing. Let me through now, or else.” Looks To The Moon suddenly felt a chill in the air as the walls became frosted with ice. “Very well.” The wall coldly said. “We will see who yields first.” The iterator had packed plenty of equipment and mechanical muscle into this form, striking at the wall with the power of a hydraulic jackhammer. Initially, her heart rose at the sign of success, but dismay was soon painted on her face as whenever her hand was to be recharged, she would turn back to see the wall had been fully healed.
Moon punched, kicked, slammed, and the wall did not yield. She attempted to plant explosives, and it healed the moment she approached the apparent breach. She would have liked to use the full firepower of an iterator to get through, but she knew it would be a waste of resources, for this was only the first of at least eight walls. The iterator huffed, finally relenting by taking off her pendant. “Fine, take thi-” As she turned back to her front, she saw that she was no longer holding the amulet, the door now wide open for her to pass.
As she passed by the fourth door, she was forced to relinquish her cloak. Now she walked stark naked, the still air of the tunnel brushing past her mechanical chassis. The tunnels gained a sulfurous scent, only more signs that the Rubicon was drawing closer. The fifth door asked of the same thing. “Give us a piece of your mortal visage.” Looks To The Moon did not look amused, gesturing to her clothless body and showing that she had none left to give. However, the wall did not let up.
“You still have so much of yourself left to relinquish, little god.” The enchanted wall spoke. “Or do you truly consider your mortal form a part so essential to yourself that your soul had alloyed with your physical interface?” After some deliberation, Moon sighed, understanding what the wall wanted. With a deep breath, she placed her hand upon her right antenna, clutching it tightly within her segmented fingers. She ensured to grab onto it as firm as possible, because what she was going to do next hurts and she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. With a violent tug, the metal holding the blade antenna in place yielded, snapping off as she grunted in pain. She fell on one knee, but the antenna was separated, the mycelial wires still sparking with electricity. “Here…” Moon hissed, trying to recuperate from her injuries as the next door opened.
The next few doors were the same, and a body part or plating was sacrificed for each gate in order to shed identity. Moon was left barely alive as she hobbled onwards, her finger platings missing, various internal mechanisms exposed with the plating peeled off, struggling to keep her organs from spilling out with one of her chest casings taken away. However, she was still alive, and still determined. Past the outer gates of Rubicon was a hellish field, a short path of crumbling structures leading directly to an extravagant palace. Well, a palace would not be doing it justice fully, for from the view of others this citadel would also be a fortress. Void fluid-infused lava flowed down the ancient bricks of the outer walls, pooling into a moat surrounding this extravagant-looking structure. The style of the walls, the outcroppings, the towers, all of it were alien to her omniscient eye. Was this how the dead constructed their homes? As the worn-down iterator walked through the castle's front gate, a loud, booming voice rang out in her mind.
“ A new soul has entered my domain, wishing to go before their time. ” The voice spoke. “ What does it want, I wonder? Come into my chambers, and witness me. ” Despite all the power Moon held as a divine iterator, the voice felt oppressing and abrasive, as if her godliness was all but naught compared to this entity. Reluctantly, Moon held on to her determination to reunite with the love unfairly taken from her, footfalls firm even if it meant she had to hold in her own organs as the platings of her chest were taken from her during the passage into the gates.
The iterator came upon an impossibly large door, decorated in archaic symbols and depictions. The center of the doorframe was an eye, the center carved into a karma ten symbol. Orbiting around the eye was a circle of various entities, some of which she recognized as what her creators had depicted as death personified. A hooded figure with a scythe, a giant serpent that spiraled into infinity, a mechanical assembly, a parchment of abstract symbols, a wireframe dodecahedron with fractal jagged eyes, these depictions alongside various others gave Moon a horrific sense of dread. What could be the owner of the voice behind that door? Could she even handle it? The fact that she was even considering said possibility despite her power in the overworld only demonstrated further how much dread she felt with this expedition.
As she grunted to push the door open, the iterator stumbled and fell forward into the chamber. An elegant carpet laid out on the floor, initially appearing to be made out of some animal’s hide but upon closer inspection was a weave of void flux strands. Down the grandiose hallway was a throne of voidmetal, where a green slugcat sat in the cushioned seat, luscious fur hiding three marks on her forehead. “Welcome, Looks To The Moon.” The slugcat spoke in fluent ancient. “I was not expecting a god of the above to spare a day to visit me. For what business have you come here for?”
“Who… are you?” Moon said incredulously. The green slugcat frowned, before lightly chuckling. “Now, a deity like you should know some manners. I am not sure how you gods up there interact with each other, but asking a deity who they are right in front of their corporeal form was not exactly good etiquette. Though,” the strange slugcat paused, “you are still young. I will just notify you of your mistake and attribute it to the simple immaturity of childhood. One could call me many things, for I am the ruler of the Rubicon, the Triple Affirmative, the queen of the dead, the Mistress of Dread, the Entropic Terminus, the Eventual Host of All Guests, and many more titles and mindless platitudes. But for us, between gods,” She tilted her head, “you could call me Saint.”
Moon narrowed her eyes. “Alright, ‘Saint’, I am here only to make demands.” She spat as the green slugcat continued to look unamused. “You have unfairly taken my lover away from me, and I wish for her to be brought back to me to the mortal realm.” Saint, however, did not seem to get intimidated by this gesture. “I apologize, madam, but that is an unjust task opposing my duties. She died of her own meddlings with the web of flux, and I took her soul away as her body rejected its duty as a vessel. To undo the order of nature is to forsake my existence.”
“But surely you do understand, from god to god?” Moon demanded, ready to initiate attack at any moment as negotiations fell through. “I understand if a mortal demanded as such, but surely something could be arranged for us gods? I am willing to sacrifice whatever I have in order for you to bring her ba- Hold on. Are you laughing?” Moon looked up angrily, seeing Saint almost on the verge of tears as she held back laughter with her hands. “Just what is so funny, ‘Saint’?”
“Look, look, Moon, I think we got off on the wrong foot here,” Saint replied jovially. “There has been a misunderstanding, and as courteous as I am, I will fix it. See, when I call you and your machine kin ‘gods’, it is more of a matter of… etiquette.” Saint gestured. “Though in my eyes you were as mortal as the last batch of entities who called themselves gods, and the ones before them, and the ones before them, I have just the slightest more respect for you types to call you by your self-proclaimed designations.” Saint smiled coldly, gripping the armrest on her throne. “Do not confuse my kindness with actual admission of status.”
“Alright, that does it.” Moon snapped. “Last chance, hand me my girlfriend back, or I will have to force you to.” Saint sighed, smile dropping as the frail-looking slugcat stood up from her throne. “You do not want to do this.”
Within a flash of a second, Moon flipped over her back gear to reveal a heavily modified flux discharge blaster, something she personally designed with No Significant Harassment to overclock until it would be enough to take on a god such as her. The hackneyed device of refined compound steel and superconducting flux propagators sparked to life within a fraction of a second, the flux cells draining as an enormous deathray of pure void energy blasted out of her cannon. She knew that the slugcat form was not what she appeared to be, but a blast like this would do some serious damage to karmic beings such as this “Saint”.
As the smoke cleared, Moon’s heart dropped; not because she was unsuccessful, but the exact opposite. The throne was completely destroyed, a smoldering mess of melted voidmetal slag and burnt cushions. The brick wall caved into the blast and revealed the hallways and corridors behind the throne room leading to the inner sanctum. And worst of all, a small, fine pile of soot laid where Saint once stood. Moon started to panic. Had she overestimated this goddess of death? She only intended to injure her enough for her to spill the beans, not kill her! What does killing death even mean? Can Saint come back from this? How does she know where to find Sliver now without a guide? Moon slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm her racing heart. No. Yeah. This is fine. She can… just search for herself. See where in the building is a map, find where Sliver is located and reunite with her. She could deal with the consequences of killing death lat-
“I will be taking this, thank you.” Moon turned around in surprise to see that the weight of the blaster had been lifted off her shoulders. The green slugcat stood behind her, completely unharmed, holding her prized possession. Moon tried to dive at her and snatch the gun back, but it was as if she was moving in slow motion, even gravity refusing to abide by its natural jurisdiction as her sprung legs froze in midair. With a sauntering walk, Saint admired her creation. “Hmm… interesting design. I had not seen someone go down this route for quite a few civilizations now.” Saint caressed the heavily augmented weapon. “Still… it is so… unrefined.”
Moon gasped in time-dilated shock as Saint put her hands on either side of the gun, and crushed the heavy-duty compression-resistant alloy plating into a ball of scraps as if it was made of paper mache. The unspent power cells had their containment chambers broken, subsuming the material in a swirl of chaotically diverging energy. However, Saint held it within her hand as if it were some mundane object like a fruit. “Now this is how you properly use flux.” Saint lobbed the blue sphere of energy at Moon, time unfreezing as the gravitational implosion first sucked Moon into a vortex, then flung Moon into where the throne once was.
The iterator’s optical visors glitched, patches of static and warped vision clouding her cracked sensors, her singular antenna buzzing errant auditory signals into her consciousness. As she tried to stagger back up against the slowly approaching Saint, she realized that chains had been tied to her ankles, her arms, her neck. They tighten, Moon grunting in futile resistance as they played her like a marionette, forcing her into a position on her knees with arms to her side and head facing up at Saint. She was floating, and her eyes flickered between blue and yellow at a rapid pace. “I was planning to let you go.” Saint’s voice magnified itself, icy-cold words so sharp they could cut through steel. “I understood the grief of love, and I would have left you into the above realm despite your invasion of my domain. Yet, you push and push, and now you have no other options left.”
Saint raised her hand, a rapidly spinning golden disk appearing out of her palm. “Let this be a lesson to the rest of your kind. To meddle with the affairs of random gods is only to seek death. Rest in peace.” The golden halo approached closer and closer, and with a bright green flash, Moon’s antenna reported the sound of a loud PING. However, as the signal was compiled and prepared to send itself into Moon’s core, it failed as the connections that once facilitated Moon’s body parts from communicating with each other were severed. Looks To The Moon, for all meanings of the word, was dead.
Seven Red Suns stood below a vat of yellow, translucent liquid. Within was a strange purple slugcat, tails full of sharp needles that can pierce metal. It was curled up in fetal position, unaware of its form or identity and the unconscious mind simply believed that it was an unborn pup floating in silent contentment, waiting for the beckoning call of its mother to come into the world. However, they knew that the waking mind would be one very different. They created every part of them, after all.
With the disappearance of Moon, they must take action. They were quite far from the entrance to Rubicon, but they were a master of bioengineering, and they were sure the specimen in front of them was their greatest creation. A mind built for nothing but battle, they were equipped with a will strong enough to take on the gods head-on without flinching. Upon their awakening, what remains of the nascent subconscious would be overwhelmed and subsumed by the true pilot, wishing for nothing but to battle the concept of death itself to rescue the grand iterator. The purple slugcat gently stirred, all biometric signs showing that the subject had reached maturity. Suns reached up, caressing the glass container’s surface to reach at the life within one last time.
“Arise, Spearmaster.”
With the verbal command, each of the wires disconnected one by one, starting from the brain activity scanners and slowly going down each of the needles and pads that monitored their vitality. Finally, the mechanical umbilical cord cauterized the connection point on the messenger’s abdomen and retracted into the vat’s side as the fluid drained away into various pipes. When the vat was about half full, the Spearmaster was still bobbling gently, unconscious but starting to take their first independent breath. The hatch of the vat hissed open, and the rest of the yellowish amniotic fluid poured out onto the floor and into the grates. The unconscious messenger fell, and…
…landed perfectly with one knee on the ground and one arm acting as support, eyes sharp and scanning the environment. “Spearmaster, reporting for duty.” The purple slugcat stood up with a military salute.
“Good… good… I think you are ready, my creation.” Spearmaster grinned, bearing lizard-like carnivorous teeth. “What is my job?”
Spearmasters stood in front of the cave, a backpack full of combat equipment in addition to their augmented body. They are on a path down a cave, and at the end of that cave is a palace. And in the heart of that palace is a god. They are here to slay her, or at least to incapacitate her enough to retrieve Looks To The Moon. They did not know her well, but the mission brief was enough to tell them that this grand iterator was important to the mortal world, and that her death would be disastrous. Two of their spears are already in hand, ready to be thrown at the nearest minion or guard who would dare oppose them, and the encounters they had up to this point had driven their anticipation for a proper fight.
As they sauntered into a cave, they see… a wall. One made out of ancient-looking stone bricks that block their path. As Spearmaster tried to find a crevice to wriggle around the barricade, the clockwork mechanism unsheathed a gem on the gate, the engravings surrounding it making it look like an eye. “You stand at the precipice of the Rubicon, purposed visitor. To receive entry, shed one piece of your mortal visage.” The eyes on the walls whispered, a serene yet absolute tone filling the brim of Spearmaster’s consciousness. “...now, would cutting off a piece of my cloak work? That is a part of my garment alrigh-” Before they could finish their snide remarks, however, Spearmaster quickly lept back as red-hot spikes grew from the wall. “RESTRAIN YOURSELF, SPAWN OF THE GODS, FOR YOU ARE IN A DOMAIN NOT OF THEIR MAKING. Though she was not here to oversee for herself, we carry out the mistress’s laws in her place upon those who enter this land.”
“Alright, alright. Geez.” Spearmaster raised their hands up defensively. “Sooo… I will give you… my left bracelet? Does that count as a garment?” The wall, however, did not respond, but the messenger slugcat looked down to find that the bracelet was no longer in their palms, the gateway slowly rumbling open. “Okay… yeah, I could work with this.” Spearmaster readied their gear, stepping deeper and deeper into the cave tunnels to reach their rescuee.
After some time and some more undressing, Spearmaster reaches the sixth gate. “Give us a part of yo-” “My garments, yes.” Spearmaster interjected impatiently. “I mean, I get you are a wall and all, but you still have eyes, right? I am completely naked. Unless you wanna shave me down to my skin, this is about as little clothing I could have left. My equipments are a no-go. I will not be parting with them.” The wall remained silent for a moment, before speaking again. “Very well. Yet the rule still remains, and a piece of your appearance is needed. One’s body is merely a mask for the true entity behind the cycles, only a piece to create oneself’s physical vessel. If you truly wish so badly to not part with your gadgets, sacrifice a body part.”
After a bit of stunned silence, processing what the wall just said, Spearmaster tried to negotiate. “Look, I get your last visitor was that robot lady, right? She can take off parts of her just fine, but see, I am kind of an organic lifeform.” The slugcat demonstrated by slapping their wrist, which makes a fleshy thwap sound as their hand impacted cushioned muscle and skin. “I have goopy things like blood and meat and bones under there, and they are, y’know, a bit hard to take off? Can we just make another deal to get past?”
“If you are not willing to shed your identity, a denizen of the living like you has no place intruding in her domain. Return to the surface the way you came and never come back.” The wall sternly warned. “Oh come on!” Spearmaster raised their arms in complaint. “Look, it is very dangerous if I try to cut something off! Like if I cut off my hand, I will surely bleed out to death! It is not like I can cut off a part of myself without any blee-” Spearmaster paused. No. Surely this can’t work… right? The purple slugcat concentrated, feeling a sharp protrusion slowly expanding within their tail. With a squeeze and a few gentle tugs to expedite the process of exiting their tail canal, Spearmaster stared down at their newly produced spear, a pink, fleshy strand connecting it to the interior of their tail. A smirk grew on Spearmaster’s face. “Suns, you cheeky bastard.”
With the next four gates, it was effectively a cakewalk. Each spear, technically a part of their body, was able to get them past with relative ease. Soon enough, they arrived at the extravagant palace of golden stones, striding through the defenseless exterior. As they wandered through the halls of this luxurious abode, they finally came upon a door filled with symbols. Now they do not know where this “goddess of death” lies, but they know that this door has HEAVY final boss vibes.
They looked down at their vast array of equipment. As the divine messenger of Seven Red Suns, they were born to rescue Moon, to return her to the land of the living. They imagined this divine beast lying behind the door, a skeletal behemoth with crowns, floating eyes, and countless arms wielding flaming blades. They shall climb up her arms while cloaked with invisibility, dodge and flip out of the way from the rubble that comes down from the heavens, and best her in combat by plunging into her ribcage and piercing her heart with a spear. Spearmaster could not help but feel pumped up by this imagined fight. They might have been born just days prior, but they could feel the spirit of battle in their soul. With an invigorated fervor, the purposed messenger kicked open the heavy stone doors, both weapons in hand to face down the colossu-
Hm.
That is a slugcat.
Spearmaster was miffed. “Is the queen of the dead, like, on vacation, or?” They asked at the green slugcat lying on the throne, looking down at them with some sort of amusement. “I would like to book an appointment with her.” The green slugcat chuckled, covering her mouth with one hand in an elegant fashion. “Here, sit down. I think I can write out some paperwork to give you an audience with her.” With a snap of a finger, Spearmaster flinched as the dust in front of him began to fly into a ball, splitting and fragmenting until two plush chairs of gold solidified, sat across a small wooden table with a piece of empty parchment and a quill. “Take a seat,” the female slugcat offered. “I will be with you shortly.”
Well, now that Spearmaster thought about it, there would probably be some bureaucracy in the underworld. There were a lot of souls to manage, after all, one god would go mad trying to deal with it all. Strange that out of all of them she decided to use slugcats for this kind of work, though. Why not recruit some of their creators? Like they get they are gods and all… but they could make a trade deal or something to one or two of them to be, like, middle managers of hell or something. Now that would be a funny sight. An entire iterator can in this infernal realm. Soon, the green slugcat let herself off the throne, striding casually to the other side of the small circular table.
“So, uhh…” Spearmaster scratched the back of their head awkwardly as she sat down on the other side, casually waving her hand over the parchment to reveal a dense form of ancient text. “Do you have a name, or-” “Saint.” The green slugcat smiled. “Y-yeah, Saint, that’s… heh,” Spearmaster responded nervously. “That’s a cute name… I guess.”
Saint curiously cocked her head sideways, looking past the purposed slugcat’s white eyes as if staring into their soul. “You look flustered!” Spearmaster’s eyes slightly widened, feeling a bit of heat overcoming their face as they stammered for words. “Me? Flustered, pshhh, nah, I-I am… ah, fuck it.” The purple slugcat sighed deeply. “I am not very good at talking to other slugcats, alright? I only know slugcat at all because my god thought getting directions from others of my kind might be useful. I didn’t even expect to be talking anyone down here!” Spearmaster flipped their arms upwards in exasperation. “I just thought that I could, y’know, bust my way in here, kick that queen-of-the-dead’s ass to double-hell Shadow of the Colossus style, and lug Moon and her girlfriend outta here! I didn’t expect for all this talking to be happening down here when I was hankering for a fight!”
“You have attitude, I think she would admire someone so fearless against a god.” Saint smiled. “Right, I think I can arrange a good proper fight for you. First, I need to get some of your information down.” Spearmaster huffed in irritation, tapping their foot impatiently. “Why do we need a form anyway? Does she have so many wanting to meet her that she had to make a catalog?” The green slugcat barked out a laugh, eyes glinting with mischief. “To be honest? I think she just made this shit up on the spot to mess with those who think they have any right to demand something from her. But rules are rules, right?” She grinned, bearing teeth more resembling the sharp metal incisors of a miros vulture than the comparatively blunt tooth of a slugcat.
“I suppose so. But I wanted to ask you some questions as well…” Spearmaster mused, completely oblivious to the hidden meaning behind the slugcat’s words. “How about this? Every time I fill out one question on a form, you answer one of my asks.”
“Deal.” Saint put her elbows on the table, hands clasped together as she watched the form with the quill. “Alright… name… SRS-07 “Spearmaster”.” The purposed slugcat muttered, writing down their designation in proper ancient as if they have been trained to do so all the time. “Alright, my turn. So what is your relationship with the… hm. I never really knew her name, did I? I can probably ask that next.” Spearmaster scratched their chin. “What was your relationship with this ‘queen of the dead?’”
“Well… you can think of me as the one who fulfills her whims.” Saint placed a hand out. “So like an attendant,” Spearmaster responded. “Well…” Saint shrugged. “I suppose you could see it that way. She is a high-maintenance woman, you know. She has needs, but with a snap of my fingers,” Saint demonstrated, spawning a refined voidmetal jewel from thin air, “all her whims come true. It is kind of boring, honestly. Getting everything you want in an instant.” Spearmaster squinted at the odd wording, a bit confused by why she was speaking the opinions of her master’s situation. Whatever, though, it only makes sense for her to know a lot of the mistress. They know for a fact that she was no normal slugcat.
“Alright, I am satisfied with your answer.” Saint broke out into a slight snicker, using a hand to shield her eyes away from the purposed slugcat, but Spearmaster continued the form. “Species… slugcat…?” They turned their head up. “Hey, small clarification, is slugcat fine with you? I think I am a slugcat… but I know they don’t grow needles out of their tail or speak ancient.” Saint nodded. “Just say slugcat. She would not really care enough to differentiate between purposed and natural born. It does not matter when their soul leaves their body at the end of days, really.”
“Alright… slugcat. My turn for the second question.” Spearmaster looked back up. “How did you come to be? Now, cards on the table, I know you are not any normal slugcat. I could not fathom if a slugcat somewhere just popped out a newborn version of you as a part of her litter. You have too much weird stuff going on to be anywhere near mortal.” Spearmaster slightly stood up, trying to get a position above her, and… was she always this tall? They swore she looked shorter on the throne. She looked as regal and elegant as she was before, but now slightly more slender, just enough for them not to be able to look below her as they slightly stood up. “...ahem, excuse me,” Spearmaster quickly sat back down, trying to regather their thoughts after that awkward moment, “If I were to guess, you were something like me, correct? Made by her to serve her purposes?”
“You could put it that way. You are correct, though, I am no mere mortal slugcat. I am glad you are smart enough to at least see that much.” Saint rested her chin on her hands again, returning to a look of simple interest at Spearmaster. “The mistress was quite bored with her usual selections, for she did not need much in her normal state. What does a god really want? Well, so she went wandering, to find something that could help her… well, want. Desire. And that was how I was born.” Saint raised a palm, pressing down on it with her other fingers to demonstrate her biological nature as the flesh slightly gave way under the pressure of her finger. “Now, despite the powers I was given, I was still physical. I was small. I was carnal. I was… comfortable. So she kept me around, as having me around allowed her to want, allowed her to feel more than she could before.”
“A… bit vague, but alright, it is a nice answer. Next question… gender…actually, I am just gonna give a freebie for this one. It is really not an answer anyway.” Saint enthusiastically nodded, signing for them to continue. “Non… applicable. Alright, next que-” Spearmaster rubbed their eyes, quite certain that they had misread the words on the paper. The symbols remained the same. “Ge-genome?”
“Yeah, genome!” Saint spouted cheerily. “You went to biology class, right?” Spearmaster squinted. “Alright, first of all, no. I did not go to biology class, as I was born thirty cycles ago and they do not exactly offer curriculum to creations of gods who were made to do one specific thing. I have read about it, though. Second of all, even IF I went to ‘biology class’ and somehow memorized my genome, this form only gave me one line to answer! How the hell am I supposed to get all those letters down?!”
“Oh, simple,” Saint said as Spearmaster stared intently at the form. “I put in some spare papers on the side of the table. You can take a piece or two to write out the full answer on there!” Spearmaster turned up to look at her, thinking she had somehow lost her mind. “What do you mean, ‘side of the table?’ this table is just barely big enough to fit one piece of pap-” As they pan to the side, they saw that they were, in fact, sitting across an end of a capsule-shaped table, a comically large stack of aged parchments towering over the two of them. “...Ah. Of course.” Spearmaster muttered in defeat. “Alright, I guess I should start writing my genome down… I guess.” They wracked their brains to figure out where to start. “A… C… A…”
“I think you got the second letter wrong.” Saint piped up. “How about I help you out? People say I have a knack for guessing these things.” Before they could deny the request, they looked down to see that the paper and the quill were already facing Saint’s direction, the green slugcat now studying them quite closely. “Hmm… yeah… I see. Alright!” Saint clapped her hands. “I think it is pretty obvious that you are an ATACGGTGACTAGTA… actually, it will be faster if I wrote it down.” In a flash, Saint became a continuous strand of blurred after images, air drawing in from the furious scribbling as she withdrew page after page, filled them out with compact letters in the blink of an eye, and deposited them on the ground. Spearmaster watched in astonishment as the paper stack shrunk and shrunk like some sort of animation, the neat stack on the floor growing at an equal pace. As quickly as it began, it ended. “Aaaaand done!” Saint proudly chirped. “Much quicker than if you were to fill it out, wasn’t it?”
“You know, I should be expecting you to pull something at this point.” Spearmaster tiredly muttered. “What are you, her jester? Wait no that was a rhetorical question, do not count that.” Saint only beamed at them. “Too late.” The purposed slugcat grumbled in frustration. “You could think of me as her jester if you like. I am what makes her life so entertaining, after all. However, like that attendant term you used earlier, neither covers the full capacity of my existence.” Spearmaster sighed, pinching their forehead. “Two hundred pages of genome sequences wasted on a fucking non-answer… fine. Next question… reason of entry.” Spearmaster quickly wrote it down on the paper. “Wishes to retrieve iterator Looks To The Moon from unjust imprisonment. Alright, my question. What was the Queen of the Dead’s true name?”
“Hmm… now that requires some lessons in topology.” Saint mused. “Does not require a prerequisite though. Here.” Saint snaps her fingers, and a bagel popped out of thin air. “I can spout out at least seven names right here, right now, the Queen of the Dead being one of them.” Setting down the pastry on the desk, she began to count with her fingers. “Queen of the Dead, the Empress of Rubicon, the Eventual Host of All Guests, the Mistress of Dread, the Entrophic Terminus, the Sole χ-5 Class Infohazard, the Triple Affirmative, and so on, and so on.”
“But aren’t those her titles? I can list off plenty of titles for my creators as well.” Spearmaster began to list. “The Iterator of Solvanti, the God of Bioengineering, the Elder of the Scattered Shards, the Voidbearer, plenty of pretty-looking titles, but none of them are names. Their one and only true name is Seven Red Suns.” Saint cocked her head sideways. “Oh? But I saw that the name listed on the internal file designation for the communication node as IT_085. This designation was older than Seven Red Suns for several hundred cycles, being created upon the activation of the transmission array. Would that not be a truer iterator name for your creators?”
“Well, uhh… I…” Spearmaster stammered out, struggling to find a retort. “I think you are beginning to get it. There is no meaningful difference between names and titles. If you use a title enough, it is now a name. Anyways, if you would excuse me,” Saint picked up the donut with one hand, “picture the surface of the donut as a representation of a nomenclatorial phase space, the set of all of her titles.” Spearmaster nodded along, not quite understanding. “Over here is the name ‘Triple Affirmative’, over this piece of frosting is the name ‘Entrophic Terminus’, at the bottom here is the name ‘the Mistress of Dread’, and so on, and so on.”
“...alright, I see, but I don’t see how that has to do with-” Saint put a finger over her mouth, silently shushing at Spearmaster until they stopped talking. “To find what you seek, the ‘true’ name, you will find the center of the phase space, the center of the donut.” Spearmaster relaxes, snatching the donut from Saint’s hand. “Oh, that’s easy. It is through here.” The messenger put a finger through the hole of the doughnut. Saint softly smiled, but shook her head. ”Very well, but what point on the surface does that correspond to?”
“What?” Spearmaster asked, confused. “Remember, we are not talking about the three-dimensional concept of a torus, just the two-dimensional toroidal manifold upon its surface. That surface is the set of all my names.” The purple slugcat mumbled to themselves, trying to justify themselves. “Uhh… well, you see- no… so if you- no, doesn’t work… so does her true ‘name’ not exist in the concept of names?” Saint shook her head, gently taking the donut back from Spearmaster’s hand. “You are getting close. The truth is, there is no ‘true’ name, for by definition the surface contains all she was to be referred by. From this analogy, attempting to find the center of this set is a farce, for either no point could be considered the ‘center’ and the true name, or an uncountable infinity of points could satisfy the purpose of ‘center’, making this distinction less than useless.”
“Fine.” Spearmaster huffed. “I have no more questions. I suppose I will fill out the rest of the form on my own.” With that, Saint only sat on the other side expectantly, watching as Spearmaster filled out the form one question at a time as they silently whispered to themselves. “Location of birth… Seven Red Suns… Parent… Seven Red Suns… Favorite fruit flavor… Dandelion Peaches… Opinion of pineapple on pizza… strongly opposed…” After a minute or two, Spearmaster looked back up again, shuffling the form back in order and handing the parchment to the green slugcat. “Alright, I am done filling everything out. What now?”
“Just wait around here for a moment.” Saint smiled, reaching a hand up to some sort of pneumatic tube descending into the ceiling. She compressed the genome sequence into a single page, and weaved it among the others to create a fine scroll capped with voidmetal. With a woosh, the air tube sucked up the scroll, delivering it to void-knows-where. “Aaaaand we are done!” Saint sat, patting her legs with her hands. “Once she responds, I will be sure to let you know so you could meet her. In the meantime… why not go wander around the outer castle a bit!”
“Oh, yeah! Uh… Sure.” Spearmaster nervously replied. But after a bit of silence as the purposed slugcat packed up their gear, they looked back up at Saint awkwardly. “So, uhh…” Spearmaster fixes their nonexistent hair. “Do you always work here? Or do you take breaks? Cause if you do…” They gave Saint
THE LOOK
.
“Mind if we grab something to drink while the mail is on the way to your lady? We could go to uh… Hell Starbucks? They had pretty good coffee the last I heard.” Saint only looked at Spearmaster in light amusement, and if she was blushing or anything the green fur would have made it hard to see. “Well, I don’t know if they have Hell Starbucks in Rubicon, maybe Hell Tim Hortons? Yeah, they definitely belong down here.” They had shot their shot, and now they must see if this proposition would go through. Would be a fun distraction before the start of the boss fight.
Saint covered her mouth and lightly giggled. “You are cute, you know.” Spearmaster lightly blushed a bit at that comment, internally pumping their fist at being able to snag such a strange date. “I am going off of work in a bit. How about I meet up with you at the Hell Tim Hort-” However, her acceptance was cut off by a similar-looking parchment dropping down from the ceiling tube. “Ope, give me a second. I gotta read this.” Spearmaster looked confused. “Did our message not send out?”
“No, no, it did.” Saint casually said as she unwrapped the scroll. “I sensed that it had reached its recipient. It looks like this one was sent to me.” Spearmaster’s blood drained from their face as they could obviously tell what was on the other side of the paper because of the ink seeping through. “To the Queen of the Dead, the Mistress of Dread, the Triple Affirmative, Saint.” The green slugcat recited. “I write this message with a request from a challenger for an audience. Name: Spearmaster, Reason of entry: To release the iterator Looks To The Moon from alleged confinement.” The parchment crumbled to dust, and Spearmaster gulped as the ash blew away to reveal Saint with a Cheshire grin, teeth as sharp as serrated razor blades. “So, it was you, wasn’t it? You were the one looking for a fight?”
“I had a feeling that you were just fucking with me.” Spearmaster muttered. Before they could get up, however, the chair and the table disintegrated into dust as well, causing them to fall on their tail. Saint was floating over them, one arm shrouded in chaotic purple energy coalescing into an approximate shape of a blade, and the other arm containing a rapidly spinning karma ten symbol on her palm. “What took you so long to get?” The voice that came out of Saint appeared layered and eerie, emanating with raw power as she slowly approached. “You are really kinda a dummy, you know. I would expect a creation of the gods above to be a little bit… wiser. Not saying I did not enjoy our time together, though, it was fun playing with my food for a little while and getting my mind off of business.”
As Spearmaster staggered up, trying to grow two spears from their tail, they attempted to retort. “W-well, what if I tell you this was my plan all along? I had a feeling you were her ever since I saw you on that throne.” Yeah, this was working. Spearmaster grew more confident. “I was just doing this to drill some information out of you, and I’d like to say that I succee-” Spearmaster’s words became muffled as Saint closed her right palm into a fist, causing their jaw to slam shut. “Yeah yeah yeah, please kindly cut the shit. I can read your mind, you know? I know exactly who you are and why you are here. You had not had a thought of doubt in your mind until I sent the message away in a tube. Don’t try to pretend to be more intelligent than you are. That makes you look like an idiot in a not-endearing way.”
Spearmaster gasped for breath as their mouth reopened, hands on knees and panting heavily. “Well, you do strike a quite good bargain, and I am interested in your proposition.” Saint’s voice echoed through the corridors. “So what will it be, messenger?” Saint rose higher, weapons in both hands growing brighter in intensity, “Go on the date first, or initiate combat with a god?”
“I… uhhh….”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Spearmaster’s muscles screamed for rest as they briefly paused to pant. The grand city burned below the two of them, and they are almost up the mechanical arms once again. They engaged the cybernetic claws and dug into the mechanical deity’s compound alloy hull, electromagnets activating to fasten them to the arms of Saint as the tendril swung in air at subsonic speeds, body slowly shredding from the nick of air against skin alone. Yet, they held the enchanted needle in their hand strong.
The core was exposed, At the head of this mechanical abomination, beneath the three rotating rings of eyes, was where a crystal shell once stood. With the last barrier gone, there was only a cyst dangled to the rings blowing freely in the winds, a disgustingly organic heart to this destroyer of worlds. It pulsed green, each movement sending energy into the gargantuan form of a hulking monstrosity, but they knew that one good hit with their empowered needle would be enough to destroy her for good. They stared at the rings intently, calculating their new trajectory to find an opening when the time came. However, Spearmaster realized just in time that they were all aligning towards them.
“Engage energy shield, NOW!” Spearmaster screamed into their reciever, the hexagonal weave of crystaline fields lifting up around them just in time as reality was engulfed in green light. Even as they put on the anti-light goggles and looked down on the ground, they still see nothing but a blinding green everywhere. There goes their last shield charge. If they could not kill her in time, they are toast when she decides to fire the deathray again.
Alright, the arms were still. The homing missile barrages are much easier to deal with. As the enormous support strut came to a stop, Spearmaster bolted up the behemoth to approach closer yet closer to the head, very well aware of the several incendiary missiles sent their way. They frantically typed out onto their arm, firing precise EMP blasts out to each of them to cause the projectiles to go haywire and crash into the city ruins below, fireballs erupting from the ground so, so far down. They were so close now, and a confidence that they had been deprived for so long was finally returning to them. They were once a mere survivor of the onslaught, unkempt with their gear as they dodged for their life from her true power, but now they are going to be so much more. They are born to be the apex predator, the lifeform to surpass all others. And only one left stands in their way.
They are going to slay a god.
Miniguns. They are no problem to Spearmaster now. As they came upon Saint’s rotating head, they used the last of the batteries on their armor to engage the orbiting physical shields, the thunk of depleted rhenium-dubnium-hassium alloy rounds hitting against the last barrier of protection they had. This is now or never. Either they die here in a blaze of glory, or they prove their worth. Spearmaster set the jetpack to overdrive, blasting it as high as it could take them as it sputtered into permanent catatonicity. There was an opening, and there was not enough time for her to intercept them with the rings. However, they realized a fatal mistake: The shields were not enough to block them from all angles. Were they to be near the core, a bullet from the side would easily pierce their spine and kill them.
There is no turning back. With a grit of determination, Spearmaster drained the binding energy holding the equipment together, recharging the battery just a little bit more. First the boots, then the claws, then the goggles, then the breathing mask, one by one, the systems that allowed them to get this far were reduced to useless scraps flung to the winds. Yet, their efforts were rewarded. Just the slightest pulse of the battery was all Spearmaster needed, slightly maneuvering the shields to the side to reveal a tiny gap in the middle, the faint hexagonal glow of an energy shield filling the meager space for their last moments. Spearmaster holds their spear downwards, barely past the barrier and ready to pierce open Saint’s heart. The roaring and the heartbeat grew closer and closer, and…
A heavy thud was heard as Spearmaster and Saint fell through a rift in space and crashed in a dimly lit chamber. Though their eyes were open as they lept in, it was as if they had opened once again to objective reality. Where they once held the enchanted needle in their arms as they pierced Saint’s cystic heart, they were now hugging her slugcat form in a tight embrace. As they rolled off of the green slugcat and onto the plush and soft carpet, the toll of the excursion began to reveal itself. Their muscles ached and flared, the pain and tears from overuse of hysterical strength finally caught up to them. Their hearts pounded so hard their chest hurt, their breathing was shallow and rapid, and the adrenaline made an unpleasant buzz within their head.
Turning around, it appears their sparring partner was not much better for wear. Though she did not use the slugcat body in battle, nor was the mechanical titan form capable of showing exhaustion, the fiery dance of their battle clearly transferred back into this vessel. Her chest was rising up and down quickly, mouth agape and panting uncharacteristically wildly and improper, eyes wide open and dilated. Somehow, even through the green fur lining Saint, Spearmaster could spy a red blush. “You… huff… puff…” Spearmaster spoke through raspy breaths, trying to regain some semblance of composure “huff… that was amazing.”
“You…” Saint panted, eyes yellow and blue turned to look at Spearmaster in a mix of terror, exhilaration, admiration, and attraction. “You killed one of my manifestations…” The purposed slugcat chuckled in wonder, now lying in their vat-grown body without cybernetic enhancements once more. Though this was their true body, it felt… foreign. No visors giving them trajectories, no jetpacks giving them vertical boosts, nothing, just flesh and bone. “Ugh… I am gonna have to get used to my normal body again, don’t I? Compared to how strong I was back then, this ol’thing just feels drab and used.”
Saint giggles, weakly raising one arm to cover her mouth. “You get used to it eventually. It was always a shock when you could not align your head to fire deathrays because you are no longer mechanical or when you could not transmit yourself into someone else’s brain because you are no longer memetical. But… what I said back there was true.” Saint patted her fur-covered slugcat torso. “This body… as mortal as it was, it is comfortable. Like a soft cushioned sofa in place of a steel throne.”
“I hope I will get used to it soon enough.” Spearmaster mumbled, still in shock as they stared at the ceiling of the room. “That… was the most epic fight I could have ever had. Magnitudes better than the one I imagined going in. I could not have asked to slay you in any better way.” Saint was… blushing at the statement, a sight that Spearmaster did not realize had made their heart flutter. “You were amazing as well. A single slugcat, with just the top-notch equipment of the time, managing to destroy the one who brought ruin to that civilization?” Saint let out a few airy laughs. “You were really something, Spearmaster. I felt mortal fear for the first time in so long. I did not even know that vessel was capable of fear until now.”
“Man… I can’t believe I am saying this, like I don’t know if I am drunk or on drugs or mind-controlled or whatever, but…” Spearmaster looked deeply into Saint’s eyes. “I fuckin’ love you, man. You of everyone understands the truth of the world.” They almost cracked up at seeing Saint looking away in mild embarrassment, acting like a normal slugcat in love rather than the terrifying primordial older than their creators by orders of magnitudes. “Passion across all forms was one and the same, and the blazing inferno I felt as you attempted to shoot me down with bullet rounds or tried to disintegrate me with lasers as I stabbed that needle into your core was more than anything I could have possibly experienced, or though I would have wanted to experience. That was… fuck…” Spearmaster panted some more, gasping for air. “I don’t think we could have connected deeper any other way.”
“I am glad you feel the same way, dear.” Saint softly smiled, gently scooting herself closer to the purposed slugcat’s face. Spearmaster knew what must be done, and overreached an arm out to embrace her closely, their lips meeting in the middle. The kiss was not an affirmation of anything as the two slugcats wrapped tightly around each other in a connection of nuclear fury, their bond already consummated when Spearmaster quite literally pierced the barrier around her heart, but it was an assurance that no matter what form the two will take, this passion would be one to never fade. With a serene sigh, Saint got up from the floor, dusting herself off. “You look quite tuckered out, how about I cook you something to eat?”
Spearmaster got up as well, stretching their back and redistributing their battered form back into place. “Can’t you just… snap your fingers and make the food come out of thin air?” Saint laughed as she walked out of the room, opening the door to this chamber. “Yeah, but it gets boring after a while. Plus, it has been a century or two since I cooked for a guest. I have to renew my abilities, y’know? Just settle here and lay around for a bit, I will be back with some refreshments for the both of us.”
As the door slammed shut, Spearmaster let out another lovelorn sigh. They had landed themselves in paradise, they just knew it. The purposed slugcat once on a mission stood up to look around the room, seeing that the carpet they were once laid upon on was at the end of a grand, cushioned bed. The blankets were made of some refined threads and were impossibly smooth, and the mattress felt like falling into a dream. Spearmaster flopped upon it, feeling their tendons relax and heal, but noted that this bed did not appear to be frequently used. There was a faint scent of Saint on there, but the cleanliness and the relative kemptness showcased that she was not one to use it often. Makes sense, sleep was not something a god probably would wish to indulge in all that much.
So… where were they? Somewhere in the inner palace, Spearmaster assumes. They knew that this was her bedchamber, but… what else could be in this building? There was a table, an old-fashioned nightlight with some parchments and a quill dipped in an ink bottle still resting upon it. Reading the document gave nothing to them, the paperwork written in some indecipherable lingo long lost to time. There was a closet as well, but none of the cloaks or jackets or shirts within looked to fit Saint’s current form. Spearmaster shrugged. Normal slugcats aren’t much for clothing anyway, and with her dense fur, it would be even more redundant. Though… they had to say, she would look pretty good in one of the messenger cloaks that their creators would give them…
Their eyes drifted over to the small pile neatly stashed in the corner. It is their equipment! Looks like she was considerate enough to teleport their gear when they were swapped out for the combat ones they were using. However, Spearmaster’s heart sank as they uncovered their pack, seeing the glowing green neuron sitting atop the other weapons they were meant to use to free Moon from her shackles. A pang of hurt and conflict spread across their chest, their newfound attachment battling with the innate urge of purpose and duty they were created for.
They… Spearmaster loved her, they knew it that much. The thrill of a fight is only something the two of them understand, a mutual symbiosis where both could discover facets of their fractal selves. Yet… they start to remember why they are down here. It was not like they were mind-controlled or anything, they felt as normal as they entered, it’s just… their mission was all but forgotten when they fought with the power and the passion of a thousand suns, two hearts beating as one as they each sought to slay the other with all their might. The fervor imprinted itself into their mind, and they wished to relive it again and again and again and again, an endless battle born out of nothing but love.
But… she captured Moon. Moon went down here to retrieve her partner Sliver of Straw, one who they heard was unfairly taken from the mortal plane. She came down for the same love they were bound by now, trapped in death by Saint’s will. The world above will suffer without her guidance and presence, Spearmaster knew it. It was not in the soul of a hero to watch this happen. Saint was not on the good side of history in this scenario. But were they ever? They openly admitted to taking many horrific forms across history to wipe out civilization after civilization, some grand and awe-inducing like the machine colossus they had just fought, others more insidious such as a living concept that spreads from mind to mind that slowly rots the people from within. It was more clear than ever now, she was the villain.
Does it matter? Spearmaster did not need to be good. They are beyond the reach of their creator now. They are beyond the reach of anyone or anything. Down here, they could abandon morality and reach their true potential. Be the partner that Saint would relish so, so deeply. That is what their heart wants, to spend the rest of eternity as a god’s eternal slayer, to find what it means to be alive. However, a voice within them disagrees. They were not a villain. They were not built to be a villain. They could not stand to see someone unjustly punished. Though they were just born and could not see the mortal world for what it was, a primal piece of them scattered in their patchwork genome spoke to them. It begged and pleaded for them to do the right thing, to help Moon escape and to make the world all the better.
Spearmaster wanted to thrash, to cry, to bang their head against their wall as their two sides battled with each other, unable to get rid of the other entirely. They could help Moon leave, but Saint would not be happy with that. She will never see them in the same way again, no matter how much they grovel and beg. They will be lucky if she does not unleash something far worse in a fit of rage. As much as she was their love, Saint was still a god. One infinitely primordial and more divine than the iterators of the above, no less. The forms they know of are mere fragments of her true wrath, and if they were unlucky, they would face all of her scorned rage at once. Or they could stay, be a loyal partner to Saint, and watch as their morality and guilt ate them from the inside out knowing the world suffers. They hated to say it, but they wished they could just… rip that noisome little thought out, to become fully uncaring of the world above if it meant that they could spend eternity with her. But they knew that they could not ignore it forever. One day, they must look below at the terror within their heart.
Unsteadily, Spearmaster rose to their feet. They needed to get some fresh air. Get their thoughts in order before they do something stupid. Pushing open the surprisingly small wooden door, a wave of pleasant, warm aromas came out the other side. Across the private chamber was something even more unexpected: a kitchen. Unlike the bed chamber, this place looked like it had been used quite a lot. Primitive scrap cauldrons mixed in with futuristic-looking industrial-grade equipment, the room hung with pots and pans and tools of all kinds, many they could not even name. However, one thing they knew was that the smell was wonderful .
Saint was wearing an apron, an exotic pattern branded upon it likely indicating its origin from a previous culture. She was currently watching over a sleek Teflon pan as it bubbled with some sort of blue froth inside. Surprisingly, though, she did not appear to hear them coming through the door, humming a slow, melodic tune as the pot stirred. Spearmaster decided to be a little bit of a run-of-the-mill romantic, silently trailing behind her with calculated footsteps until they were right on Saint’s back. With a precise flash, they grabbed Saint below the arms. The green slugcat yelped in surprise, hands briefly sparking with reality-shattering chaos before looking up to see Spearmaster’s presence. She shook her head slowly with a light smile, before standing on her tip-toes to kiss Spearmaster’s chin. “You surprised me.” Saint softly laughed. “What, can’t you sense my aura or something from behind?” The purple slugcat snidely remarked.
“...no, not here.” Saint muttered, freeing herself from Spearmaster’s grasp as she continued to tend to the pan. “I did some tampering in this room. When I am in here, I am basically… mortal. Mentally, at least.” Saint remarked. “Now, I can still spawn in objects and teleport stuff around, but only at the whims of my vessel’s processing powers.” She tapped at her skull. “Remember when I read your genome and wrote it down within twenty seconds? Needless to say, I can’t do that here. Your species were not built to do these things. When I am in here… I guess this is the closest thing you got to dating a normal slugcat, if you are into that sort of thing.”
“...so you intentionally suppress your powers in here? Why?” Spearmaster cocked their head sideways, confused. Saint placed the spatula back in the pan, lightly chuckling. “I made the living spaces to indulge in my vessel’s mortal needs. Sleep, eating, …whatever else, and I really don’t see the point of going super speed comprehension when it was really more about the journey than the destination. It was not like I needed to eat anything, so why not enjoy the frustrations of creation along the way?” The purposed slugcat nodded in interest. “That… yeah, I like that. Honestly, I am surprised you would hold that philosophy. I would have thought-” Spearmaster’s eyes lighted up at the slices of a certain soft blue fruit on the cutting board. “Were those dandelion peaches?”
Saint only smiled as Spearmaster leaned down with interest at the ambrosial fruit slices, taking a quick peck at their cheeks as they went down for a sniff. “And I wondered why one of the questions was about my favorite fruit flavor. Were you into me all the way back then?” Saint smirked, lightly shaking her head. “Nah, I just put that in order to stall for time.” “Stall for what? Can’t you make anything happen?” A soft chuckle came out from Saint’s throat. “Let’s just say… I was not exactly too happy with you when you first came in. Other than messing around with you, I wanted some time talking to you to get you some fitting punishment. I was thinking of drowning you in molten Dandelion Peach syrup, but that’s… too shallow and uncreative for my tastes. Your pep and your performance in that fight back there really impressed the hell out of me, though, so you could say that these plans were put on the back burner.”
“Say… speaking of fights and all, how was your experience dealing with Moon?” Spearmaster causally probed, trying not to bring suspicion. Saint’s right arm tightened, spatula dropping into the boiling froth as she turned around with a slightly more forced smile. “She… was not a gracious guest, to say the least. But not like in a funny way either.” The green slugcat let out a frustrated sigh. “I know you are sent here to let her go, but… she would have been let go a long time ago if she had not overstepped her bounds.” Spearmaster sighed. “Alright, I guess the cards are on the table. What did you mean?”
“First of all, she came down here to claim her love Sliver of Straw, whom I fairly took as nature snatched her away from the mortal realm. Now that was not something I would allow to happen, but I know how love blinds even gods. Hell, I am a hypocrite for saying this myself; look at how different I am treating you than her.” Spearmaster slightly blushed but nodded and signed for her to continue. “Anyways, I would normally just tell her ‘sorry, it does not work like that and your girlfriend was dead’, but she was such an ass about it. Absolutely clueless about her place and thought she could make any demands she wanted. Like, you are clueless about all this gods stuff, but like in an endearing way. She should have known better!”
Spearmaster opened their mouth, about to argue how “being a jerk” is not exactly a good reason to leave someone to rot forever, but Saint cut them off. “Oh, I also looked through your memories and saw what your creator said.” The godly slugcat crossed her arms. “Don’t mind them, the whole ‘the world will die without Moon’ spiel is some bull if I heard one.” Saint waved her hands dismissively, “the iterators are honestly a bit too self-important for my taste. The world existed before they were born and the world will exist after they die. The world will run fine without her.”
After silently walking around, feeling the sudden tension in the room, Spearmaster appeared to relent. “That’s… alright.” They muttered. “I love you, and I trust your judgment.” Saint smiled, coming in for a hug. “Now that’s what I like to hear.” Spearmaster cautiously let go, trying to add to their statement. “I… is it alright if I try and see her? I want some closure before I accept this choice, or else the guilt will eat me from the inside out.” Saint gave them a bit of the stank eye, but ultimately nodded. “She’s in the basement cellar, 4th cell on the left on the first row. Just get back quick.” She sighs. “The pancakes are less tasty if they are cold.” Spearmaster waved goodbye with a smile, closing the kitchen door behind them. The moment she was out of their sight, the purposed slugcat’s facade dropped, looking at their equipment in mourning.
They had made their choice.
Moon jolted awake, feeling the cold stone floor pressing against the back of her head. Just seconds ago, she was facing in front of death herself, being chained down as a glowing halo reached toward her. Now, as her optical sensors returned online, she spied the beige color of something very familiar. “Sliver?” Moon weakly called out. She felt a heavy, mechanical weight on her chest as the full weight of a puppet pressed down on her, arms wrapping them in an embrace. “I am so glad you made it here.” The fallen iterator muttered to their revived lover.
“You… saved me.” Moon blushed, wishing more than ever to lean in for a kiss from her partner. “No, I am not the one to take that title.” Sliver of Straw shook her head. “You should thank our little purposed friend over there.” The beige iterator moved out of Moon’s line of vision, revealing a strange purple slugcat with a tail full of orifices that produced spears. They look… quite disheveled.
“Who were they?” Looks To The Moon whispered to Sliver of Straw. “I will talk to you later, but we really need to go. Their name is Spearmaster, and they were made by Seven Red Suns to get us out of here. Suns made this neuron thing to restart our puppets. They used one to revive me, and…” Looks to the Moon looked down to see Sliver’s hand pressing down a glowing green neuron on Moon’s depleted chest, “they gave me the honor of reviving you with the second.” The blue iterator chuckled. “I knew out of all iterators, Suns would be the one to pull something like this off. Let’s go.”
As they stepped through the inner sanctums of the palace, making sure to not make any sound that could catch Saint’s attention, Moon and Sliver could not help but to whisper and chatter about their strange savior. “They were not very talkative, aren’t they? Do they even speak ancient?” Sliver quietly spoke back, “They can. That’s how I got to know who they are. But they look quite… glum. They refused to tell me what they did to get here.” Looks to the Moon cocked her head, wondering what journey they must have gone through to evade this ‘Saint’. They are almost at the throne room now, and soon, they would escape the Rubicon alltoge-
“Speary~” A slugcat called out in a sing-song voice, opening one of the shut hallway doors to reveal a surprisingly domestic looking kitchen, full of pots and pans and other equipment. The horrific deity that had defeated Moon was in an depth-era apron, hands holding a piping hot plate of waffles with some sort of blue fruit syrup piled on top. “Have you met up with Moon yet? I know you must be hungr-” As Saint opened her eyes, the plate clattered on the floor, the disks of risen gluten sliding off one another to splatter on the floor. The purple slugcat refused to look Saint’s eyes. Just what did these two do while she was out cold?
“Wha… I… I…” Saint trembled, not acting like the terrifying goddess that she had been when she defeated Moon in the slightest. Spearmaster took out a strange mechanical orb from their belt, quickly lobbing it into Saint’s body. Although this speed should be child’s play for a god to dodge, the reaction time of the slugcat almost seemed… mortal. The ball unraveled into a series of chains, wrapping around the green slugcat and causing her to tumble onto the ground before emitting a constant stream of electric shock. What came as a surprise, though, was the cries of pain afterward as she spasmed around on the ground. Moon thought it was a trick to feign weakness, as surely such a physical weapon would be nowhere enough to damage her, but the tortured expression and the tears… it all seemed so real.
“We have to go, now.” Spearmaster mumbled. “She had diminished her power in the inner sanctums, and these chains would distract her enough to stop her from changing back. But once the stunners stop working, we are doomed. We must get out of here now.” Looks to the Moon and Sliver of Straw understood the signal, bolting down the hallway and into the throne room. But as the blue iterator turned back, she saw the purposed slugcat, tears in their eyes, stare at the bound and spasming Saint. “I am sorry, my love.” They whispered, “I can’t let you keep them down here.” The Saint attempted to say something back, but Spearmaster was already sprinting their way towards the exit, catching up to the two revived iterators.
“ My Love? ” Looks to the Moon hissed at Sliver of Straw as the two bolted down the throne room and the exterior passages. “Look, I did not know either, alright?” Sliver puts her hands up. “I didn’t know that THAT’S how they got us out of here!” She grumbled wryly under her breath, “Looks like they got a different type of action than we assumed.” The two’s whisper ceased as Spearmaster caught up to them, part running and part stumbling. They actively had to wipe tears from their eyes as they ran with the two of them. They need to grieve, and it would be quite disrespectful to their savior to continue talking about the two.
The gates of Rubicon were deactivated, likely thanks to Saint’s brief shunting of her powers. She would have liked to congratulate this Spearmaster for being able to trick Saint into diminishing herself purposefully via seduction, but she knew that it was very much not the case. Whatever hijinx the two had done, Moon felt bad for both Spearmaster and Saint, for they are losing what she once lost as well. Worse, this was a betrayal neither of the two could mend. Never mind, the dim red lights of the underworld was quickly fading away, and they had just passed the last gate blocking their freedom. They can figure it out when they-
SPEARMASTER.
A loud, deep voice boomed from down the cavernous halls. They were near the entrance, the mouth of the cave. There are no more walls blocking them from their freedom, the open, blue sky shining into the dimly lit entrance tunnel. The purple slugcat dropped to the ground bawling, knelt sobbing into their hands inconsolably. With a rush of flurried metallic steps, Moon dove onto Spearmaster and surrounded them in a tight embrace, letting them shed tears on her shoulders. “It’s alright. We are safe now.” Sliver of Straw, however, urged them to go on. “We are not safe until we completely exit the cave. We need to go now, or else-”
Where did you go, Spearmaster?
The voice called out again. She could recognize it as the voice of her warden, Saint. However, it sounds… charged with emotion. Not sadistic bemusement or coldness, but… grief. Moon felt horribly hypocritical, for she destroyed a relationship in her attempts to get her own one back. “Why did you do this to me? Why did you do this to us?” The voice muttered. “ I… I don’t understand. We had a perfect eternity together. You said that you trusted me. You… this was not a trick. I can sense that. You loved me with all of your heart, and yet you forsook me. For what reason? Some remaining loyalty to your creator?”
Looks to the Moon winced, knowing that though Saint was in the wrong, she had been as well for trying to enter down here and break out her own love. Spearmaster was still babbling inconsolably as these words reached their ears, clawing at their own face until they drew blood, but Sliver helped by holding their hands down as the three of them continued on without looking back.
“I showed my heart to you. I showed my mortality to you. I showed you all that I truly am! And THIS is how you repay me?” The voice shouted in abject agony and sadness. “ Not even the gods who created you knew about me. I showed you too much of my true self for a mortal to know.” Sliver of Straw and Moon picked up the pace as Saint continued her ominous speech, only the metallic clang of footstep and the incoherent tear-choked chitters of the purposed messenger echoing throughout the caves,. “Your mouth shall be silenced, for you shall not speak of our truth. You shall not speak of our shared passion and our forsaken future. You shall not utter a word again to allow anyone else to fall for you. No one will hear you scream as you are torn and slashed.”
The blue iterator took a second to process the cryptic message, but quickly look down in alarm as Spearmaster began screaming. Their lips and teeth are growing out, becoming more bulbous and extended than they were before. With a sickening crunch , Moon heard bones crack as the jawbones fused together, the bleeding crimson of the pressed-down gums soon covered as the lips began merging, the boundaries disappearing. “Sliver!” Moon frantically yelled, setting down Spearmaster. “Unpack their back to see if there is a knife. We have to cut away the excess growth!”
“And you two, the starcrossed lovers who betrayed fate to stay together. I know you can hear me as well. Was it worth it for you to gain back your love knowing you have broken mine?” The voice sneered. “ What you have done is unforgivable. Stand aside and watch, for there is nothing any of you could do now. A curse of silence has been placed, and no surgery nor transportation would rid them of it. So long as their soul is nestled within a physical vessel, there will be no voice to cry out suffering, to tell the world of the truth.
“Better find another way out soon, You three.” The cavern roared with Saint’s voice as Spearmaster crumbled onto the ground. “Time takes all eventually. Sooner or later you will age. Your body will be consumed by entropy as your organs fail one by one. Your soul could not stay latched to that fragile bundle of nerves forever. Trust me, you do not want to end up back here.” The voice shook, an unsteadyness as the cavern let out a deranged cackle. “They may have seen the true extent of my power, but they have not yet seen the true extent of my cruelty. And at this moment, I have plenty of good reasons to push that bound. I am almost excited to see what forms of torment I could come up for you three with a decade or so of unfiltered dedication. See you soon.” And with that, the voice finally faded away.
Looks To The Moon sighed. “A tough breakup, huh?” Spearmaster only looked at them, unbroken skin covering where their mouth once was. Sliver of Straw knelt down, grabbing Spearmaster by the arms and trying to prop them up to stand again. “Well… what do we do now?”
The Blue iterator shot her partner a dirty look. “We are free now, but we should probably apologize to Spearmaster first.” She looked at the now mouthless slugcat, hand over their shoulder. “Hey, so… I do not know whatever connection you two had back there, and I suppose now we never will. But… it breaks my heart seeing you two separated like that, even if one of the parties was the one who imprisoned us both. Just… we are here for you, alright? Two gods has been indebted to you for the rest of your life, and we will do the best we can to make your situation as comfortable and carefree as possible.” Spearmaster, after a second or two of processing their word, nodded and let out a muffled grunt from their throat.
“So… we go to your place?” Sliver suggested. “It has been a while since I died and I am not sure how functional my facillity would be.” Moon stood up, pointing to the large metal superstructure in the distance. “Yeah. I am quite close to this entrance. Once we arrive, we will rest and recoup. Maybe get them wired up to some sign language lessons and figure out how to jumpstart your can back to life.” Sliver’s antenna twitched in agreement. “Alright, then we should get going then.” However, as she began walking, she paused and turned to walk towards Moon. “Actually, one more thing.”
Sliver of Straw placed one hand around Moon, the other caressing her cheeks. “I never actually got to say this when you first woke up, so I think this is the right place for me to finally make it up to you. I missed you so, so much.” Moon lightly blushed, rolling her eyes and flattening her antennas mockingly. “Really now? Right in front of our savior?” Sliver chuckled. “They are a connoisseur of love themselves. I am sure they would find rest in their heart seeing what they reunited.” With that, Sliver picked up Moon by her thighs and the other hand behind her back, leaning over to a bridal carry as the blue iterator yelped in surprise. “Here is to the rest of eternity for the both of us.” Sliver muttered, before diving in for a kiss of divine passion as the two mechanical deities reconnected in a way only understood by Spearmaster and the other impermanent divinities that lay above the threshold of the void.
As the two separated, they saw Spearmaster already prepared for action once more, two spears in hand and ready for the journey back home. “Seven Red Suns really gave you a dose and a half of gumption, didn’t they?” Moon wryly joked. “Well, little savior, I could see how Saint could admire your traits.” The two iterators laughed among themselves, and Spearmaster only huffed grumpily and tapped their foot, seemingly out of their depressive trance for now. With that, the three mortals of the above world walked off into the sunset, heading off to the superstructure to begin the rest of their long yet finite lives.