Mage Tank

Chapter MTB3 - Epilogue

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SYSTEM ADDENDUM ADDED BY USER NAME: [ERROR: REDACTED]

ADDENDUM NOTE: Two months after the founding of Closetland

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Brae’ach seethed as he grasped the table, and the air shuddered around him. Lately, it was always crowded around Brae’ach; there was always some avatar, some United, some follower that needed his attention. Jakom feared it would soon be too much for him to bear.

“You are certain of this?” asked Brae’ach. The walking void before him nodded.

“Utterly,” said Limbo.

At the center of the table was a dimly glowing teal prism which featured faint lines of mana threading across a map of Arzia. Some of them connected to the parchment, where celestial letters floated off the page: “Delve 2883,” “Delve M82,” “Labyrinth 081.” There were several thicker mana threads, most ending in question marks, but one had a strange label: “Raid 0.”

“I know the truth of Hysteria’s words, despite their lies and hyperbole,” said Limbo. “I maintain a soul tether to everyone I’ve met, allowing me to see and hear everything they do.”

Brae’ach raised an eyebrow.

“Almost everyone,” Limbo continued. “I thank Unity for allowing me to interact with you without such a handicap.”

“Hysteria’s capture was some time ago, then,” said Brae’ach. “You are only now deeming it prudent to mention?”

“The entity Hysteria encountered had an unusual effect on my soul,” said Limbo. “The tether could only be partially reincorporated. As you suggested in your conversation with the histrionic one, I passed along their testimony to an Arbiter. All of Arbiter gathered to debate it, and I have recently been informed that Hysteria’s account is Verified, ignoring their embellishments.”

The massive Davahn sighed as a breeze blew through the room. “I had heard the generations were getting faster, but such feats in so short a time exceed even the wildest projections. I would question whether some are even possible.”

“And yet here we are,” said Limbo. “You should recalibrate what you consider to be possible.”

As much as Jakom loathed the obscured one’s presence, Limbo was supremely focused, minced no words, and suffered no distractions. Jakom could not think of any other avatar that was so driven. Brae’ach emitted a rapid, soft chittering as his lowest mandibles clacked back and forth in consternation.

“They’ll be ready for the Raid within a few years,” said the titan. Limbo squinted, sort of. He was difficult to read at the best of times.

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“That means we’ll achieve our goals earlier than expected,” said the darkness.

“No, it means that we’ll have to accelerate our time table by an order of magnitude in order to be prepared when they complete it,” said Brae’ach. “Your ‘kin’ are too used to running amok as soon as the Transcendence finishes, wafting in your own flatulence before the divine sphere closes and you saunter back to hibernate in your caves. If we are to succeed, we must complete our tasks before the Transcendence or else it was all for naught. You cannot merely wait out the Delvers this time.”

“I will not sit for another age in this wretched form,” said Limbo. “If time is of the essence, your ‘preparations’ are taking too long. You must abandon such foolishness.”

Brae’ach stood.

“And what do you know of these ‘preparations?’” the man asked.

“I know you spend days at a time praying. You travel for hundreds of miles in strategically irrelevant locations. You spend months erecting shrines of exotic but mundane materials. I know you are letting your spiritual practices get in the way of expediency, and now I know we are on a much shorter time table than before.”

Brae’ach glared at him. Jakom could feel a swell of emotion rising from the ground, like a flaming want, a burning of need.

“You know

NOTHING.

The earth beneath them split asunder, sending fragments of stone blasting across the room. Jakom raised his arms reflexively to shield himself, but the rocks diverted away from him and struck the wall behind. A frightening red glow rose from the newly formed crevice, and thousands of long, sinewy hands began crawling out of it, grasping at the air but finding no purchase.

Consumed by your own malice,

You grab the dirt and eat,

Fistfulls of mud and worms

And see it as a treat.

A banquet lays before you,

An invitation on the seat,

But you crawl along the floor

Bereft and incomplete.

You were meant for more,

But balked and learned defeat,

So hold your writhing tongue

And follow in my feet.

Limbo betrayed little visible expression, as always, but Jakom could feel his presence being balled up and wrapped in the Word, so that the despair overflowing from the creature no longer suffocated Jakom. The Word was rarely used, especially with avatars, who were as likely to flee or fight as follow when hearing it. Jakom could sense that the Word had an unusual effect on them, even beyond the effects it had on mortals.

“Duly noted,” said Limbo. “I acknowledge the limits of my perspective.”

The grasping hands clawed more fiercely as an unseen force dragged them back into the ravine. The ground quaked and closed once again, without so much as a crack to mark the abyss that had so recently been opened.

“In that case,” Limbo continued, “you cannot allow them to complete the Raid. Not yet, anyway.”

“That is a difficult proposition,” said Brae’ach. “We cannot simply eliminate any Delver who would be a threat. We need them to keep advancing the System, and only the best of them can achieve that. But I think we can slow them down considerably. If these children die as a result, then they were not strong enough to matter in the first place.”

Brae’ach looked to the map and his eyes traced a few choice threads.

“They will need Labyrinths to keep their current pace, and such places are rife with valuable materials we need. Let us see how well they can secure those obelisks against the United.”

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