Adamant Blood

Mark soared into the sky, getting away from everything, going high and fast and taking off his clothes as he flew so he didn't wreck them, as he turned his adamantium backpack back into scales, to cover his body, to finally relax as he was fully in armor, once again. Mark breathed in Good and breathed out Bad, focusing on warmth and stability.

He ended up 6 kilometers above it all, high in the sky, looking out across a city that was partially destroyed, and yet was getting better.

There were big black spots in the land here and there; places that were still disconnected from the grid. But as Mark watched, like a dark speck in the sky, he saw one of those dark spots light up, lights flickering on in homes and on streets and in businesses. A few 20-ish-story buildings flickered on, their lights illuminating the skyline just a bit more, in a broken sort of way. Mark could tell, even from so far away, that they were broken buildings. Their walls had been cracked open by some superhero or villain or cultist action, or something like that. But they still stood.

Mark relaxed in the air, his clothes tucked into a briefcase of adamantium, the flow of the tri-toroid pushing down on him as his grip on the prop pulled him upward, as the small stabilizing rotor kept him angled how he wanted. The wind of the sky blew across his scales, cold and relentless.

None of it touched him through his scales, through his mask.

Mark hovered there for a while, not a single vector in the whole world anywhere near him.

It was relaxing.

And then Mark came back to the real world, asking Quark, "What's next?"

"I logged a few concerns from the talk with your uncles. Here they are in no particular order: Lola, scanner update, tell Eliot about not overworking, Episode 4, your uncles want to meet Glorious Man, merchandising, a big statue of yourself, the team of people looking to explore Endless Daihoon for Resurrection Magic. I also had a conversation with their House AI, Bert, and he wished to say that your uncles lost many display figurines and would like some new ones, if you want to give them some gifts. I have a list of the ones they do not have anymore."

Mark kinda paused as he read Quark's list in the air, and he focused on the last entry. The figurines. Paranoia about controlled information, delineated lives overseen by AIs and the people in charge, flooded Mark.

"That information was… given to you? How did that work? Isn't that… invasive? Did you scope out their collection and... And what?"

Mark wasn't sure what he was feeling right now. The AIs were already controlling all the information about Resurrection Day and a lot more besides. All Mark knew was that he did not like that.

Quark said, "A lot of people wished to support them in the rebuild, and they didn't want to tell people 'no' all the time, so they set up a gift registry regarding figurines. Bert is in control of that registry, and he granted me access, as he does to anyone who comes by."

Relief flooded Mark like a warm bath on a cold day.

"That's really cool. I didn't know that… was possible." Mark looked across the land, and he had no idea where to go for figurines, so he said, "Got an angle on some figurine shops? Let's go buy one… Er. No. Let's go to…" Mark looked at the list, and then he looked at the figurine entry again. He admitted, "I thought you were being invasive about that, but you weren't. I'm having trouble with the idea of the AIs controlling all information about Resurrection Day, Quark. Is this… This is weird right?"

"Propaganda control is the basis of any nation-state. Curtain Protocol is perhaps the most solid example that control of information is necessary, sometimes."

"That's what's bothering me, yes…" Mark sighed. He shook his head. Curtain Protocol was how Earth allowed people to gain real power, instead of to gain Knacks, Knowings, and Whispers. Curtain Protocol and information control was here to stay. Mark asked, "Have you been able to find anything about the Endless Daihoon expedition?"

"Just talk, right now. There is a meeting on March 30, on Tuesday in almost 3 weeks, at the Hero's Association. It is by invitation only and no invitations have gone out. Would you like to request an invitation?"

"Yes."

Quark displayed some text, 'Automatic response: Thank you for your inquiry into the discussion regarding Resurrection Day and the exploration of whatever that day was about. Please join the website and join the conversation. An HVP login is required. If you do not have one you can file for one here. Thank you!'

Mark read it, then blinked it away, and then he looked back to the list of stuff that needed doing even as he said, "Remind me when that event gets closer." Quark beeped in acknowledgment, as Mark read the list again. "Let's go see… Lola, actually."

Quark beeped, and then said, "Lola is currently under house arrest, and she is not allowed to receive visitors"

And now Mark was angry again.

"We're making a visit. Plot a course."

Quark plotted a course.

Mark got to flying.

- - - -

With his clothes back on, Mark landed on the road outside of Lola's apartment, which was a bit north of one of Memphi's Arcanaeums, where she had relocated to work after Orange City kicked her out. She was not directly in a college town, but she was close, so a lot of college guys were around and about, doing whatever. Mostly drinking, from what Mark could see. The lights were on and the street looked mostly normal, so this place hadn't been hit by all of the disasters of the rest of Memphi.

The people on the road did not really notice Mark, which was great.

There weren't even any agents of the Collective anywhere, which was suspicious.

But Lola was there, in her apartment on the second floor, and she instantly felt when Mark got close; when his Union touched hers. She did a sigh with her vector, and then she turned a little welcoming. Mark grinned a little at that.

With his adamantium shaped into a backpack again, Mark walked up the stairs to the apartment and through the front door. Within a few turns and up the stairs, Mark stood before the door to Lola's apartment, and Lola opened it up before he could knock.

Lola looked a bit frazzled but otherwise perfectly poised, even while wearing a grey sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. Comfortable clothes. She had an ankle bracelet on. It had a green light on it.

Mark pointed at the ankle bracelet. "Want to take that off and we can go for a walk?"

"Do I want to flaunt the law and take matters into my own hands? No, not right now, Mark." Lola stepped into her apartment, saying, "I'll make tea."

Mark grinned and followed her inside.

Soon he was sipping tea with Lola by the window, cleaner plants glowing in the corners of the room. It was a nice apartment. Mark had only visited it once, months ago, before she really moved on. It looked fully moved-in, now. One really nice painting was clearly Freyalan-themed, with a winged goddess and flowing dress-thing going on. The flatscreen was big, plants in the corners, a nice couch and nicer knicknacks everywhere. Pictures with her and other people at Orange Arcanaeum.

Lived-in.

Lola began with, "How are you feeling, Mark? That was a big event. I heard you were at the center of a lot of it."

Her voice was kind. Her vector true and honest. She really cared.

Mark smiled softly, true kindness making him emotional. He wasn't sure where to start, so he started at the biggest parts of it all. "It was hard. I killed so many people, Lola, and then most of them came back. All of them were cultists and… I only really killed Kardi, there at the end." Mark found a barrier he had built within himself suddenly shatter. Words poured out, "And now there's this fucking Resurrection Day stuff going out. So much misinformation. Do you know about that?"

Lola shook her head. "I do not, and you probably shouldn't tell me."

"Ugh! Okay. But… It's fucking cultists and—"

"You should tell me," Lola said, changing her mind.

Mark grinned, despite the horror of it all, and he told Lola about the truth of Resurrection Day.

She listened, her eyes and vector surprised and horrified.

Mark found it easier to continue after that. He said, "And I think I want to be an inquisitor, so I can at least be a part of the Collective so I can know this shit ahead of time. That this shit is possible."

Lola was having a moment. And then she moved on to a different conversation, asking, "And you told everyone you're adamant blooded."

Mark nodded, and continued, "And then there's these assholes, Saikou and Walter, I still need to tell them off. All of the Collective knows I'm adamant blooded now, so, like I guessed, the Collective stopped coming after me… There was a woman during the Event. Reba. She… She helped a lot. Freyala came to her through her sacrifice. Freyala came to me, to help me. It was the only way we were able to win the entire battle, Lola.

"Everything hinged on Freyala telling me stuff that she swore me to never tell anyone, ever again, but you can probably guess what that was—"

"Her warning was serious, Mark," Lola said, solidly. "Do not even broach that subject anywhere in public, and even here, in this private house, this is 'public'."

Mark nodded a little. "I could do more, though. That's the thing. I need to do more. And the Inquisitors know so much but… But they're still able to be controlled like Saikou and Walter— And look at you! Why are you allowing yourself to be controlled like this, Lola?" Mark tried not to get angry, but it was a near thing. "You should not be here! You should not be under house arrest! Let me rescue you and take you to the settlement, or something, please!"

Mark wasn't sure how he had arrived at that particular request. That particular demand. But he had arrived there, again, and he knew it was the right thing to do. Lola should not be under house arrest, or threatened with inflated charges, just to try and control Mark. It was infuriating.

Lola was having a difficult time, though.

Mark waited.

Lola sipped her tea, and then she made a decision and Mark knew, in that instant, that it was a good decision. Mark grinned, feeling joyous— Lola cut him off, saying, "I'm just thinking about it, Mark."

Mark couldn't stop grinning, though.

Lola thought about a lot of things, and then she asked him a single question, "Are you really going to aim to become an Inquisitor?"

"I'm thinking it's the only way I ever get to learn about demons in a real, solid way, so that I can kill them and prevent..." Mark said, trying not to get angry again at forces far, far outside of his control. He waved a hand at the general everything. "You know."

Lola's vector turned a lot less hesitant. She stated, "It's going to take 2 years of study to become an Inquisitor. You can't do all of it via teleconference, but you —personally, you— might be able to swing such a thing in the settlement. You understand this?"

"And you can teach me about that, too."

Lola paused. "I suppose…" And then she made a decision. "I suppose I can teach you some inquisitor things... Most things, really."

Mark was already grinning, but he grinned even more, now. "Good! It's settled, then—"

"No, no. Not quite." Lola put on a brave face, and then she held out her ankle bracelet police-thingy, saying, "When you cut this off, people will come here, and they will want to talk. We will be talking to them."

Mark easily and solidly clipped off the bracelet with a fragment of adamantium, as he said, "Then we can talk to them. Do you need to pack, or something?"

Lola breathed deep as she watched the bracelet's light flicker from green to red, to whine a bit. She breathed Purity/Impurity at it, and the bracelet mostly stayed intact but something broke inside. The alarm broke. She stood as she said, "I already have everything packed and ready for leaving. My affairs are already in order. And so… I need to put on something more appropriate for leaving. Pardon me, Mark." She left the room, to walk down a hallway toward a door, saying, "I assume that Sentinel/Inquisitor Saikou Jowa of Aluatha, and Executioner/Sentinel Walter of Okuana will show up in person, so prepare for that."

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Mark was prepared. He finished off his tea and brushed his hair with his fingers, to get rid of some of his helmet hair… He asked, "Should I wear my armor?"

"If you want to look like you're bringing a nuke to a conversation, then yes."

Mark started changing in the living room.

Soon he was dressed in black scales.

Lola came out of her room with two bags, one in each hand, and she stopped in her tracks. She was back to wearing her white and gold robes of a priest/Inquisitor. She didn't have a breastplate like most paladins, but her robes had that sort of cut to them, somewhat. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Mark, saying, "It's like seeing a… a real archmage robe, in person."

Mark flowed the mouthguard of his helmet upward and away, showing off his smile, even as he lifted Lola's bags with a bit of adamantium grabbers. As she let go, Mark said, "I heard Addavein was wearing one of those when we switched bodies briefly and he closed the rift the goblin had made. He supposedly said that fake robes were not as good as real robes."

Lola blinked, and then a golden vector flickered through her own, and she paused, eyes going wide again. "I… did not know that." She breathed deep, and then the golden vector left, and Lola was back. Lola looked to Mark, and said, "I have a new mission, it seems."

Mark smiled. "Which is?"

"To fit into the organizational structure of paladins at the settlement. I'm to connect to someone named Sir Galen Greene-Shield, High Priest of Verdago?"

"He's a good guy. Mostly runs the farms and organizes the meeting halls. The farms are nice. I feed the fishes sometimes… though I need to do more of that."

"I would appreciate an introduction, then."

"And you will have it!" Mark flowed his mouthguard back into place, asking, "Ready to confront the guys on the street?"

"As I could be. Anything left behind will have to go to the landlord, I suppose."

Mark led the way out of the room, into the hallway, saying, "I'm sure we can take it all with us, Lola, but maybe not tonight. Tonight, if I can swing it, I'll take you to… Blackthorn's, actually. He's fine with guests. He told us as much."

Lola huffed a tiny laugh. "Not to be misunderstood, but I am surprised you are so friendly with another archmage."

"Blackthorn is a good guy and Planty… Whatever Contract Blackthorn has is a good one. I think Planty is actually some really, really special demon, too."

Lola was a bit surprised, and then not that surprised at all. She wordlessly agreed with Mark, unwilling or unable to speak further on the matter at this point in time. But yeah. Planty was special in some way.

And then they were on the street.

A hovercar was parked on the other side of the street, right alongside a bunch of other normal cars, all of them parked at a Mexican place.

Sentinel-of-Aluatha Saikou Jowa and Sentinel-of-Okuana Walter were both there, standing on the sidewalk, right in front of the Mexican joint. They looked put together, Saikou's violet Daihoonian-native skin looking rather Earth-like under the dim light of streetlamps, and Walter looking like a bouncer who got separated from his bar. Both were wearing white and gold outfits. Both felt miffed to different degrees.

Mark waited for some cars to pass, and then he walked directly across the street, with Lola right behind and then beside him.

Mark said, "Greetings, Sentinels."

Saikou said, "Greetings, Mister Careed, and Inquisitor Lola."

Walter just huffed and nodded.

Lola did a curtsy.

Some late night taco-eaters were watching the confrontation now. Some readily recognized Mark. Cameras came out.

Saikou said, "I will be quick about this, since this situation is now beyond the Collective to handle. We apologize for our actions undertaken under the misinformation that you were selling dragon goods. In the future, please be upfront about being adamantium blooded and don't lie about selling dragon goods, please. It is better for everyone."

Mark instantly realized what was happening here.

Saikou and Walter had both known that Mark was adamantium blooded before now. Both of them were pretending they did not until this moment here. In doing so, they were putting out a message that it was okay to be adamantium blooded; that the empires wouldn't work to put you into a cage just because of who you were. With that message out there, they were ensuring that other adamantium blooded people would be okay if they came forward honestly.

Holy fuck. He wanted to punch Saikou right in the face.

… But Mark had a choice.

He could let this stand.

Or he could fuck them over.

… And by fucking them over, they'd go after Lola again, because right now this was a peace offering, for now. Might be a poisoned peace offering, too. But… That was beyond Mark's ability to be paranoid about. It wasn't paranoia if they were out to get you, though.

Mark…

No.

Blackvein grinned under his helmet, and then he showed his smile and gave Saikou a double middle finger, shouting, "Kiss my ass, pawns of the empires!" And then Blackvein swept Lola up in a chair of adamantium and threw a tri-toroid into the air and flew upward, shouting, "I do what I want!"

Tittering laughter erupted from the audience.

Lola chuckled and tried not to, even as they flew higher and higher.

Saikou muttered, "This is so childish."

Walter, however, grinned and waved Mark farewell.

And Mark flew away, toward Blackthorn's tower.

When they were higher in the air, Lola said, "About as good of an interaction as that could have been!"

"I thought so, too!"

"There were some better ways to handle that, though. In the Polite Society outlined by the Settlement of Xerkona…"

Mark got an earful, and he was happy to hear it.

- - - -

Archmage Steve Blackthorn was, as expected, still at his party at the rebuilt 'Villain's Headquarters' down below, since it was nighttime. He easily agreed to harbor Lola and she got a room down below Mark's team's room.

Sally and Isoko were back and they wanted to party, so they were at the VH, too, partying alongside Eliot.

When Mark brought up the subject of Eliot letting other people build things Eliot was already on it.

"Oh yeah! I actually took a break and got harangued by, like, a whole mess of construction people!" Eliot said, having a complicated set to his vector, tone, everything. But he was also at the party, drinking heavily. Eliot waved a hand and said, "It's a bunch of stuff and I'm not thinking about it! But yeah! Isoko was right. Message received, loud and clear!"

Mark looked across the dance room to where Isoko was rocking out with some people Mark did not know. Sally was there, too. Both of them were wearing their costumes. It was a weird party, maybe? Mark wasn't sure.

Mark talked loudly to be heard over the music, "What are you doing next then, Eliot?"

"Episode 4! Bright and early tomorrow morning— Oh shit! I need to check out a scanner, too. Want to go with me?"

Mark paused. "Uh… Yeah? I guess so?" And then he asked, "Can your Power actually change?"

"It feels weirder! So sure? Fuck if I know, right?"

Soon they were walking across the open land between the Villain's Headquarters, or whatever they decided to call it, and also Blackthorn's tower.

They went into the front lobby and then waved to the guy at the front desk tonight, and that guy waved them through to the elevators.

The scanner was on the second floor.

Eliot went first.

A few minutes later Eliot came out, his vector confused. "The numbers went up… A lot."

"How much did they go up?"

"Well… It was a standard S-tier Arch distribution with a Natural spike for Castellan, so Body 50, Shaper 25, Mind 15, Natural 25 but actually 75, Arcane 50, Arch 95… And now it's 65 Body, 30, 20, ninety-fucking-five, 65, 97."

"… Your Castellan went up… Way too much?"

Eliot frowned at a lot, saying, "I'm not sure what that means. It shouldn't go up that high for anyone but a… a True Castellan. And I am not a True Castellan. I need to… Uh. Go talk to a priest, or something. Will you go with me? I need to do this tonight, actually. Like right now."

"Absolutely!" Mark said, "We can go now. Did your Natural Power Level have a 0 in front of the 95, though?"

Eliot kinda paused… "Er. No. No 0 in front of the 95. So… Maybe not that urgent, actually. Not a real Power; still a graft from a god." Eliot was more calm as he added, "You get in there, too, then we go. You said you had weird shit, right? You need to get it checked out, too." Eliot sat down on a chair on the other side of the hall. "I need to think."

Mark looked at his friend… And then he nodded and went into the scanner booth.

It was not a simple scanner, like the one in the hallway of that learning building of Citadel Freyala. It was a real scanner, like the one at Orange Arcanaeum. A full walkway led into a standing space in the middle of a few rings, and each of the rings was a few meters wide and 30 centimeters in thickness.

Mark walked forward—

He stepped back into the hall and dropped his adamantium backpack on the floor. He didn't think he should take that in there. Quark remained with him, though, on a few bits of adamantium sitting on the back of Mark's neck.

Mark stepped into the scanner and the rings descended around him.

The rings spun a little and made some noises, and then there was a soft chime of being done.

A hologram flickered into existence in front of him, even as the rings lifted up and away.

Body, Incorruptible: 075

Shaper, Adamantium: 097

Mind: 85

Natural, Union: 097

Soul: 74

Arch: 61

Estimated astral body strength: 91%

Familiar Detected.

"… Huh," Mark said. "So that 'estimated strength' went down, Adamantiumkinesis and True Union broke the 95 barrier, and 'healthy body' became 'incorruptible'… Quark? What does that mean, exactly?"

"That you are stronger."

"... I guess so!"