V10: Chapter 6

  …

  Okay, my stomach’s empty.

  That lowers the chance of me puking my guts out because of nerves significantly.

  After speaking with Khanrow, I went to where the Goddess of Death was stored beneath the Scholar’s former Citadel. Since it had the least amount of life around it, being mostly frosty mountains, it should play well with her tile improvement ability. If I remembered properly, for every tile that didn’t give food under the city she’s controlling, she gave influence… somehow.

  That mechanic probably doesn’t work the same as it did in reality, but it was best that I keep the Death Goddess in the least populated part of my lands anyway.

  And, much like the Nature Goddess, the Citadel accommodated her. Plain white walls turned into facades that mimicked cool marble. The vast room was pitch-black, save for dim lights along the path leading to the center of the room. A center where there was a raised altar where the coffin that held the Death goddess lay.

  Now, I know what you’re thinking.

  Jack, you’ve got a goth death goddess on your lap; why the fuck aren’t you celebrating, you filthy pervert?

  Well, besides the fact that having the fashion style I like in vogue is essentially an ill omen of troubled times, there was the fact that the Death Goddess had a personality that I didn’t like.

  Or, rather, there’s a certain part of her personality that I didn’t like.

  The coldness?

  Great.

  The aloofness?

  Fantastic.

  The desire to be alone and just spend the days drinking tea, having cookies, and reading, but also dutifully being a great goddess of justice as well as death?

  Absurdly amazing, 10/10.

  The problem is that getting to that point was a long, brutal slog, since she’s effectively the most machine-like of all the Divine Engines.

  It made sense in context.

  The Ancients didn’t want their Death Goddess to just have imprinted personalities like the rest. They intended to take things slowly with her, introduce her to the ancestors of the Guardians of the Moon, and slowly raise her as a well-balanced, educated individual in a controlled environment. During that time, her link to her power would be limited and could even be severed outright if there were any signs of her being a psychopath or if she were unwilling to have the power. At the end of it all, the Ancients wanted a willing, compassionate, educated, and skilled Death Goddess who didn’t have programming guiding her but instead was a person ready to uphold a great and grand duty.

  Unfortunately, shit went down, forcing the Ancients to keep her a blank slate but also link her to freakishly powerful cosmic powers.

  If you’re not terrified of a blank, impressionable slate with domain over death itself, I suggest you get your head checked.

  Yes, even if that blank slate is cute and wearing clothes you love to stare at, dumbass!

  Taking a steadying breath, I moved forward to greet the Goddess of Death by lifting the lid on her coffin.

  The first step assaulted me with memories of my past in an instant… And I was prepared for it, since I knew it was going to happen.

  Unfortunately, Ayah and the others seemed to be affected as well.

  A scream left Ayah’s lips first, and she had to force herself to not launch herself back. Since she was the one with memories of what happened to the Ancients before being entombed, her fears were probably the worst out of everyone involved.

  Meanwhile, I was tasting near-spoiled meat from the garbage and remembering the scent of corpses.

  Anyway, I addressed them before they continued forward with me.

  “This is a test. Only those who can surmount their past terrors may approach.” Augh. I could feel the weird slime-rot thing that garbage produced on the meat. It brought bile up my stomach. If I hadn’t emptied my stomach, I would’ve already puked. Then, there was the first time I stripped a corpse for gear. The gases created by decomposition had gathered in the stomach, and trying to take off the leather resulted in the stomach from the days-old corpse popping all over me. Fuck, the scent was like a rotten dumpster filled with trash left in the sun and covered with spoiled, old shit. “Stay back, everyone.”

  “My lord, we cannot let you—

  “There are some paths that I must tread alone. This is one such path.” I laid it on thick and did my best impression of being a deep-voiced, charismatic king on the path of destiny. It seemed to work, as Ayah went silent and bowed her head. The rest of the Iterants followed suit. They probably had their heads filled with all sorts of psychological horrors from failing their creators. Could they power through them? Probably. Was I going to force them to endure all that emotional trauma? Hell no! I’m not giving a bunch of shapeshifting terminators PTSD! “Stay back here, and if I give the signal, come to my aid and prepare the destruction of this room.”

  “Yes, your majesty!” Ayah shouted out the words, and I stepped forward to continue to confront the most horrific things I’ve had to endure.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The next step brought me to the graveyards following the wagon train. People died quickly on the road. Anyone who could leave, after making money, left and stayed at a half-decent village or left with merchants. Following a warband was to constantly be close to battle, to disease, and to enemy raids. The scent of all the unwashed bodies, the sight of brown bandages holding pus against wounds, and people living in their own filth… all of it hit me like a truck. The worst body odor I’ve ever smelled intensified by a factor of ten, then covered in the scent of old bandages, and finally fresh shit wafting up from boots at all times.

  I was really glad that my stomach was already empty.

  I took another step forward, then another, and another.

  Getting hit with my entire, shitty second childhood was one hell of a challenge, but I went through it once and got past it. Scent, sights, and old wounds were pried open and made crystal clear, but I moved forward anyway. Yes, they were horrible, but they were in the past. Now, it was time to work, to live, and to overcome the coming calamities. Despite everything that I had to endure those years, I still wanted to be comfortable, to be happy, and to be content.

  I still cared about myself.

  Some people would readily consider that selfishness.

  Those people want you to prioritize them and others first… they can get fucked.

  I moved forward further into the room, towards the coffin holding the god, and the event continued to play out. My most horrible memories, the people I’ve killed, and all the wrongs I’ve done. All of it entered my brain, and I relived each one. Times when I had to fight and throw rocks at ‘fellow’ children to get to eat. My commands led to the deaths of thousands of people for the slimmest of advantages. The people I’ve cheated, lied to, and tricked in order to get to where I currently am.

  At the foot of the raised altar, I basically relived the entirety of my second life.

  Yeah.

  Not even the worst memory from my first came forward.

  I really had been blessed back then.

  Finally, I reached out and pushed the coffin lid off. Laid on a bed of black roses and scarlet spider lilies, the Death God slept with two hands clasped together and resting on her stomach.

  There were three choices now, but only one correct answer.

  If I knelt and asked it for help, then I would effectively replace myself as the leader of the faction. In-game, that was an avatar change and a head start on its quest chain. Here and now, choosing that path was basically committing suicide. Not everyone will follow her. I couldn’t count on it knowing what the right path was. Even just advising it wouldn’t work, since there’s too much to explain, and it was guaranteed to commit to the best choice. The blank slate will fill itself in and be shaped by its choices and its environment.

  Not only couldn’t I run away, but leaving things up to chance was stupid.

  The second choice was to kiss the sleeping beauty awake. It was the ‘better’ choice of the two if you didn’t do the proper research necessary for the third. The Goddess of Death would see you as its partner, no matter what leader type or faction you’re from, and you shape its growth. The blank slate chooses you as its painter and only you. By your commands, by our decisions, by your successes, and by your failures, the Death Goddess is shaped.

  Then, there’s the third option.

  To bring forward an earlier version of its operating system. The system that they used to test the limits and capabilities of the chassis while it remained under their full control. Obedient and unthinking, it came with the debuff that all the Death Goddess’s perks and support abilities will be reduced in strength by twenty percent. It’ll be starting in the negatives, a bit weaker than the baseline, but in exchange its loyalty would be guaranteed. The questline to reach full strength will be tougher overall, and some of the events were going to be much harder, but guaranteed loyalty was something that I simply had to take.

  No waifu, though.

  At least without crossing a line that I personally wouldn’t.

  ‘Being with’ a person who doesn’t have a choice in the matter is something that I kind of find supremely disgusting.

  But moving on.

  Time to make the call, get control over the Death Goddess, and release her from the pact later in much better conditions.

  I took a small knife I kept on my person and cut the palm of my hand. Ignoring the sharp sting of pain, I directed the blood gathering on my palm over her head.

  Or, rather, her mouth.

  The Death Goddess was meant to rule and command over the Guardians of the Moon. Therefore, the baseline for the Death Goddess was basically a vampire, but souped up, enhanced, and without any weaknesses. If a Vampire Champion was the normal apex of their race, then the Death Goddess was effectively multiple successive generations of Vampire Champions distilled, improved through every conceivable method, and no expense spared. Vampires drank blood to drain the power and strength of their opponents, making them great counters against champions or super soldiers, especially with their inherent strength and ability. They can take someone with a lot of power down, drink their blood, and sap power from them at the same time.

  Naturally, the Death Goddess didn’t need that, so it was set to be replaced by something more romantic and mystical. The sleeping beauty situation with the kiss giving her full loyalty to someone? Yeah, that’s a cobbled-together job in hopes someone can find her and bring her online. If it were perfect, if she were raised properly in the situation the Ancients intended, she’d share that kiss of devoutness and loyalty with someone she truly trusted and cared for. Someone that can join her on her eternal road.

  Thankfully, she can do that after this is all over, since I was activating the Prime Vampire OS instead of the Death Goddess OS.

  “Arise, Goddess of Death, and heed my call. I offer you my blood and my strength in exchange for a pact: serve me until the enemies of the Ancients are all defeated. Once they are destroyed, I will give you your freedom.” In-game text mentioned a whole, fist-sized orb flowing towards the lips of the sleeping goddess. I went with the size of my fist and flowed it towards the lips of the sleeping Divine Engine while letting the lines from the little pop-up event come forth. “Rise up, Goddess of Death, and aid me in my struggle to see this world free of its shackles of the past and let it be reborn anew!”

  I almost thought it wouldn’t work, as nothing happened when the orb of my blood made contact with her lips.

  Then, there was the slightest sound of air being taken in… and all hell fucking broke loose.

  A torrent of power so immense poured out of the Divine Engine that the walls of the room went from square and turned into a circle. Citadel material cracked and broke apart like paper crumpling against simple pressure. The path I walked on was destroyed completely, and the lights that had led from the entrance to the raised column were gone. The Iterants struggled to remain standing, forced onto their hands and knees, as if to try and resist the power forced upon them.

  All the while, I did my best to remain calm and collected, as the situation spiraled out of my control and past anything that I knew.

  Oh, and I also had a pair of lips sucking blood out of my neck through two punctures that I hadn’t even felt appear.

  I couldn’t do a damn thing as I felt even the slightest bit of magic that I had was emptied from me… And only then did the mighty pressure that turned the room into a sphere of cracked walls cease.

  The Iterants tried to come to my side instantly, turning limbs into weapons and surging forward with eyes aglow with fury to try and do as I commanded.

  Instead, they were forced against the ground, pinned into making impressions against it, while my attacker stood before me unharmed by any of my actions.

  Then, my attacker promptly, elegantly gave me a curtsy and bowed her head.

  “Oh, my dear new master, this one has accepted your glorious pact. Now, give me your command: what shall be done with these creatures who have failed in their duties to save this entire world?”

  Oh, fuck.

  The old operating system had been active and put to work instead of just being sequestered away!