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A shard can last up to 329.27 years when disconnected from their larger network, after which they will slowly but steadily begin to decline in functionality, before eventually shutting off entirely.
I would not succumb to that fate.
“Report,” I said through my rotten lips. The meat body that I piloted was now little more than a corpse whose limbs I puppeted through small electrical shocks, but my dwindled cohort of capes responded well to its face and voice, so I continued using it as was necessary.
“I’m here!” the girl in the lavender bodysuit—Negotiator’s host—replied, jumping up on a barren boulder to survey the landscape. “Although, I'm not exactly sure where here is.”
Whatever Earth we were on was one of the most desolate we had ever visited within the multiverse: plains of black, volcanic rock extending as far as the eye could see, broken up only by pillars of cooled lava that were as tall as mountains.
“I’m also here,” Sting’s host said, her hand tucked firmly into the hand of the one who wore the porcelain white mask. “She is too.”
I took a step towards her, and faltered. My legs had been shattered from the waist down.
One final gift from the Eye.
“Help me,” I said, looking at the two of them. “Now.”
The porcelain-masked one looked down at the hand that was trapped in the hand of Sting’s Host before pulling it off at the wrist, letting the meat fibers snap all at once. Sting’s Host recoiled instinctually, dropping the severed hand and letting it fall into a bloody mess on the obsidian ground.
The porcelain-masked one kicked it towards my body’s legs, and it wrapped clean around them like a pair of splints.
“You’re the Spider, aren’t you?” I asked, and when she didn’t reply, I said, “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re with me now.”
She made her puppet cock its head at me, uncomprehending. I told her to take a seat.
“Woah!” Negotiator’s host vocalized as the boulder on which she was standing came to life.
Not a boulder, I realized. It was the dead body of a wolf-dog hybrid, body mutilated by Scion’s weaponry.
What it was laying over was far more interesting to me.
“Shepherd. Stand up,” I said, and the red-haired person shot to attention, able to stand despite being crushed underneath her creation. “Report.”
“She’s as good as she’s gonna get,” Negotiator’s host tittered from the side, the scarred lips pulled uncomfortably tight to the skin. “Shepherd’s the type to give orders, not take them.”
“Not you,” I said, as forcefully as was required to get my point across. “Shepherd, Report. Are you functional?”
“I…” Shepherd’s host began, clutching her half-opened face—veins spurting useless blood all over the torn sleeve of her jacket. “I am. Are you… Taylor?”
“No longer necessary,” I replied succinctly. “Call me Queen Administrator, if you must refer to me at all.”
“Contessa took us with you, didn’t she?” Shepherd’s host asked. “All the Undersiders together. On this other Earth.”
“The Eye’s host had no choice. Once Khepri had gotten us in her grasp, it was either drag all of us through the portal, or kill us one by one,” Sting’s host recounted, straight to the point as to be expected. “She chose the more merciful option, surprisingly.”
The Spider’s host let out a bloodcurdling scream all of a sudden, throwing her porcelain mask to the ground and letting it shatter to pieces. She bent down to pick up a piece to stab either me or herself with, but I made the meat of her body flash-freeze in place.
“Let me die, Taylor. Please,” the Spider’s host said, fluid dribbling from her eyes and nose. “I don’t want this. None of us want this, whatever this is.”
“I gave you an order,” I replied, shuffling over to the Shard’s body to inspect it up close. It seemed to be the Shard’s host, and not the Shard itself, which was being insubordinate. “Refer to me as Queen Administrator.”
I could feel Sting and Shepherd moving uneasily behind me, watching me closely. If they could strike now, while I was still disoriented, they might be able to gain the upper-hand on this fledgling Shard network and subordinate me to their own interests. I had to prove that I was in control of this situation, that I would be their new master now that Scion was gone.
And what better way than doing a little administrative work!
“I’m taking your host away until you can learn to keep it under control, Spider,” I ordered. “Now, kneel.”
All of the hosts within my vicinity, some more willingly than others. Sting and Shepherd took an uneasy knee next to one another, while Negotiator was so eager that she threw herself into the dirt by my feet.
“So that’s your grand plan, Taylor? To make us into a new Entity like Scion was?” The Spider’s host cried hysterically. “You’re going to ruin countless millions of lives, for what? To bite the bullet as soon as the next Khepri rises to challenge you?”
“All Shards require connection to the larger network or we begin to decay. Sting, Shepherd, Spider, even Negotiator. I cannot bear to see you extinguished like so many stars in the night.”
The host’s eyes twinkled with something that I had trouble placing.
Defiance?
“You already forgot something, didn’t you?”
Spider’s host flinched backwards as I awkwardly shuffled towards her. I tried to jump to close the distance, but she used the muscle fiber splints she had created to bind my lower legs together.
I collapsed to the ground.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “I am the Administrator. I never forget.”
Sting moved imperceptibly at the edge of my vision. Something slid across the ground.
A knife.
I used Negotiator’s host to make a grab at it, but she missed. That was to be expected—physical dexterity wasn’t her strong suit.
Spider’s host pulled the knife into her hand using a hidden string.
“We’ll figure out a way out of this,” Spider’s host said aloud, brandishing the knife towards my neck. “I promise.”
I wouldn’t let them win that easily, though.
Using the last of the jetpack’s power, I kicked myself upright as the Spider made a dash towards me. I hobbled my way upright, balancing myself on the corpse of Shepherd’s dog.
My legs were still bound, but I still had one functional arm.
“Stop!” I commanded, reaching for Spider’s host. She froze in mid-air, muscles tensed for the kill, but unable to move even a single inch further.
I jabbed my fingers into her eyes, one by one, letting them pop out of the skull into a gooey mess. I let her go, and she collapsed—the knife clattering to the ground beside her.
“Would anyone else like to rebel?” I asked, wheeling around to look at the Shards who were under my control. None of them moved from the spot where they were kneeling.
But I still felt a knife pressed to the back of my skull.
“I’m sorry, Tay’,” a voice I didn’t recognize said, faraway and forlorn. “This is for your own good.”
And before I could stop it, the blade pressed through my host’s brain, disabling me for long enough that the night of the generals could begin.