Mask of Humanity

‘If anyone harms Kleos, I will kill them.’

The fading echo of Nicolai’s words was still faintly audible in the room. The others were staring at him, shocked.

From how taken aback they seemed in response to what he’d said, Nicolai realised he might have been a little too straight in his language. But if Kleos was harmed, it could lead to Nicolai facing Heaven’s judgement for a broken Contract. Better to be too clear, than not clear enough.

‘He is our guide and knows much of this world, can teach us of it,’ he added, seeking to move past the cold brutality of his previous words and impress upon them the importance of the head, using collective language to imply they were now a group.

If things did go wrong and they all turned on him and he was somehow separated from Kleos, then ensuring they knew Kleos could be useful and helpful would make it less likely they might harm the head, less likely Nicolai would receive the judgement of a broken Contract.

‘Like what?’ asked one of them, the girl Azure, who seemed the most interested of them all.

‘He taught me techniques to better utilise my Seed and told me useful information about this place; dangers to avoid, treasures and sources of information.’

‘Techniques?’ There was a hunger in her voice and eyes, one Nicolai recognised. The same desire to explore the mysteries and magic of the new world as ran through him.

Nicolai nodded slowly. ‘Later, if you wish, I can share some of what I have learned.’ He would consider over the night whether he would share that information freely, or extract payment. Sharing it “freely” would be a good way to make himself more a part of their group by generating a sense of debt and establishing himself as helpful and useful. But he possessed an innate dislike towards the idea of doing anything for free, of failing to extract the maximum possible value from any encounter.

He could see the conflicting feelings in the girl. She wanted to learn, but she disliked him after their first interaction.

‘Is there even any point in learning these things, if we can’t finish our Seed?’ she asked suddenly, and for some reason shot an irritated glance at John.

‘There is. It doesn’t need to be complete for you to gain useful abilities from it.’ The torches had turned red. ‘It’s almost night,’ Nicolai observed. ‘And there is one thing to do before it turns dark.’ Nicolai looked to John then tugged on the band around his neck. ‘You will remove this from me.’

‘What is it?’ asked Cait.

Nicolai considered her for a moment. He’d been a little uncertain about this. He’d wondered if they might have Examined it while he was unconscious. He’d yet to see any sign this was the case, but now he had a confirmation. From what he read from her face, she truly didn’t know, nor did the others. No need to provide details.

‘It’s an annoying thing that I want off,’ said Nicolai. ‘Some undead put it on me.’

‘Can’t do that yourself?’ John’s face was thoughtful, wary.

‘No. I have a key but someone else needs to turn it.’

John stared at him, the silence mounting, clearly waiting for Nicolai to explain further. Nicolai kept his mouth closed. ‘There’s something you’re not telling us,’ said John at last. ‘What is it? Why do you want it off?’

‘Does it matter?’ Nicolai’s eyes narrowed, his muscles tensing. ‘That was my condition for allowing you all to come here, remember? The reason I have allowed you into this safe place. I want it removed.’

‘I’m not removing it unless you tell me why you need it gone.’

‘So you’re reneging on our deal?’ snapped Nicolai. ‘I had thought you were an honest man, one who stuck to what he agreed. Is this not the case?’

‘I am, and I do,’ said John. ‘But I need to look after my people; that comes first. This band seems to be very important to you. If removing it will have any effect on my people, I need to know about that. I need to know what it is. I will remove it, as promised. But I need to understand, first. That’s all.’

‘That’s all,’ echoed Nicolai in a dark mutter. He stared silently at the man, matching him stare for stare. John shrugged, and made a slightly apologetic face that seemed to say: I’m sorry, but this is how it is.

Nicolai gazed at that face as he considered how to lie. He would simply say that it was nothing important, just a band, with a key he couldn’t turn himself. Except… he’d have to hand over the key to them, and all of them were capable of Examining.

John would demand to be the one to do it, and John would Examine it. Nicolai had done that himself, and the key’s Examine text had been irritatingly precise.

Long Key

This is a key used to remove the Containment Bands placed on Cultivators in castle prisons. Such bands are used to bind Cultivator’s and have significant effects when put on the neck of any Cultivator.

John wasn’t stupid. They’d all seen Nicolai’s Seed and knew that it was complete. Once Examined, the band would obviously be the only reason Nicolai was not already a Cultivator. If he were in John’s position, he wouldn’t remove the band. It may well lead to a significant shift in the balance of power, and it would mean Nicolai would no longer have any need for John or the rest of the group. It could be that John had already worked all this out.

Nicolai burst out into abrupt laughter, which led to some confused exchanging of glances from the others. He suddenly wanted very, very much to simply kill them all. An image coalesced in his mind, visualising how he would do it. John first, of course. His teeth grit in a grin as he wrestled the urge down, but it was struggling, pushing, trying to rise. Seeing an opportunity. The longer he stood there staring at John, the harder it was to keep it down.

‘Fine,’ he snarled. I need to remove myself from this situation. He could sense that he was not in the right state of mind for this discussion. Some time away from them was necessary. Once he was sure that he had thought things through logically, without emotion or the influence of his urges, only then would he make a decision.

John frowned at him, and then shot a look at the woman with a bionic arm who was also eyeing him. The meaningful, thoughtful glance they exchanged annoyed him.

‘I’m going to sleep,’ said Nicolai abruptly. ‘We will talk on this tomorrow.’

John made this big shrug of a gesture and said, ‘Fine,’ in a rather sarcastic tone. There was a moment of raised eyebrows and exchange glances then Nicolai watched as they shuffled off. He saw from their distant faces and the workings of their throats that they were all talking to one another over Local.

He found it irritating that he couldn’t hear their words and was missing out on a great deal of information. His status as a Raw was becoming more and more of a problem.

He reentered his room, his mind working endlessly. He was thinking that it would be quite easy to kill all but one in their sleep. He closed the door and stood there for some time, his eyes closed, working to slow his breathing. Gradually, he wrestled the vicious urges down. This is fine. One night is not a problem. Tomorrow I will deal with the matter. He was always at his best in the morning, the most clear headed. He worked to calm himself, trying to put the visions of blood on the walls and people murdered in their beds from his mind.

‘Are you alright?’ came a voice from his midsection, breaking Nicolai from his meditation. Glancing down, he realised he still held Kleos.

Nicolai strode forward and placed Kleos on the table. ‘What do you think?’ he asked the head, turning it to face him. ‘About them,’ he added. ‘About all this.’

‘I don’t know. Hopefully this works out,’ said the head. ‘You need to get the band off. Will they take it off?’

‘They will take it off. One of them. One way or the other.’ Nicolai sat in the chair beside the head, half his mind now on the tendrils of his Seed, keeping track of them all in the other rooms.

‘Will you tell them why you need it off?’

‘I think I must, tomorrow. That, or the other route. I worry that if they understand it is the only thing stopping me from integrating my Seed, from becoming stronger, that may make them unwilling to remove it. They don’t trust me, not yet. That man, John, is wary of me. They all are. I doubt they will be happy about the idea of me becoming a Cultivator, even if I don’t think they really understand what that means anymore than I do.’

Speaking aloud to Kleos like this was somehow easier than thinking quietly in his head. It allowed him to bypass the thing that hovered hungrily within his subconsciousness, allowed him to think things through as he’d intended.

Kleos let out a non-committal, somewhat concerned hum. ‘What is the other route?’

Nicolai chewed at his lip. ‘There is… a problem.’ Kleos looked to him attentively. ‘I am… you may have noticed I am… strange.’ He took a steadying breath. ‘I feel I should be clear. Amongst my kind, I am not a typical representation. There is something…’ There was a little spike of pain where he chewed his lip and he forced himself to stop. ‘Something wrong with me.’

Kleos listened to this without expression, its cool, dark eyes fixed on his own. ‘I had gathered,’ it said, in a tone that spoke volumes.

Nicolai leaned forwards, ‘I do not want to kill them,’ he whispered. ‘But I worry that I might. Even if they don’t give me reason. And right now, I feel that they are giving me very good reason. They agreed to take my band off and now they refuse!’ his voice rose all of a sudden, twisted with fury, and he fought it back under control. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice, leaning closer still to Kleos. ‘I could simply kill all of them but one. Have that one remove my band. It would be so… easy.’

‘Why is it that you care?’ asked Kleos.

Nicolai sat back, tapping absently at the table with his nails. Tap, tap, loud in the quiet dark. He stopped himself. ‘Because they represent something to me. I want to be different, if only a little. I want to be better. I used to believe all of my kind to be little more than animals. Worthless. Better dead than alive. But there came a time where I was… removed from myself. I was a part of something else, a killbot called Zero-Twelve.’

He was aware that Kleos would not understand what he was talking about, but he continued regardless. At this point he was talking as much to himself as to the head. ‘The other Modules were fascinated by humanity. It was… I suppose it gave me another way of seeing the world. Over the years I came to recognise there is good with the bad. There is, in my people, this kind of beautiful madness, an endless contradiction, something very… human. I would like for my race to continue, to survive. I would like to contribute to that. I would like to be more… human. To understand what is human. At least, insomuch as being human does not limit my ability to pursue my primary goals. But it is difficult for me to care. It is against my nature. I have to fight against myself.’

‘I believe you are doing well. You are overcoming yourself, from what I have seen,’ Kleos smiled at him.

Nicolai smiled reflexively back, and immediately he felt that Kleos was lying to him and merely saying these words to soothe him, but he reminded himself of their Contract, that it specified the head must be truthful with him, reminded himself that he could trust Kleos. Sort of trust Kleos.

‘At times I am unsure if the fight is worth it,’ he added in a murmur, staring at the shadows that the red torchlight cast over the wall. At that moment they looked like bloodstains, dripping and crawling and running.

‘Well… I, uh, I think it is, personally,’ came Kleos’ voice, pulling his gaze back to the head. ‘But, speaking on that, what if they refuse to take the band off? Or, beyond the matter of the band, what if they betray you? Betray us?’ Kleos was frowning at him. ‘It wouldn’t do to be too soft-hearted.’

Nicolai shrugged. ‘Then matters become very simple. Right now they are not exactly enemies. So I think I will try to be human. But if they are staunch in their refusal to do as they agreed, or betray me… they will be enemies.’ Nicolai tapped his finger once on the table. ‘I kill my enemies.’ That would be nice. That would be much easier than all of… this. He felt a sudden shift within him, a sense of relaxation. He found himself hoping that they would refuse to take his band off the next day. The moment they did so he would enact Plan B.

‘Okay.’ Kleos appeared satisfied. ‘There is something you should know,’ it added. ‘When you integrate your Seed and gain a Soul, I believe it will change you. Those who possess proper Souls, who can Cultivate, their bodies and minds are stronger. Advancing in Cultivation heals and perfects the body. It could be it will help you become more like you want to be; to gain more control over yourself.’

‘Really?’ Nicolai grinned. That all sounded good. But there was something in the way the head had spoken. ‘Could be it will help me?’

‘It is not reliable, or well understood. Different for everyone. Some people become more… eccentric. Not less. It is said that Cultivation makes one more of who they are. So, it could be that it makes you… more as you are.’

‘I see,’ Nicolai swallowed, and for a moment felt worry, but it faded quickly. He could only advance, no matter what. Growing stronger, mastering his mind, becoming the perfect warrior, these were central to him, and learning to be more human came second to these core drives. Managing himself was difficult. It might become more difficult, instead of less so. But he would not stop in his pursuit of what he desired. The crawling of the shadows was growing in speed and strength. He could never stop.

That thought in mind, and desiring to distract himself from the shadows, he opened up the repair kit which had come with his shimmer poncho. He spread the poncho on the table before him, then dug out the red water bottle that had once belonged to Harold. He poured a little of the water into his hand, using it to clean the blood and other grime from the poncho, then he dried it with some rags.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Kleos, staring curiously as Nicolai cut a few small pieces from the replacement piece in the kit and applied adhesive.

‘Fixing this,’ said Nicolai as he stuck the little patches over the bullet holes. ‘These patches are the same material as the rest of the poncho. Glued on properly, they will close the holes and restore its functionality to full.’ He placed it on the table to dry, then took a moment to check its charge. Thirty-nine percent. When reversed, it could absorb the rays of the sun, solar charging itself, but he’d need to take it outside for that.

Soon, he told the poncho and the shadows.

‘Outside here, there are some undead which throw bolts of light. I killed them and checked them over, but found no Imbued. How would you explain that?’ he asked Kleos, a question from earlier occurring.

‘They will be linked to a powerful undead Cultivator who does possess Imbued or Symbiotes, somewhere in this castle,’ said Kleos promptly. ‘Or perhaps to the Castle Core itself. It is possible for more powerful beings to grant abilities to lesser ones, though it’s not done particularly often. Usually not worth doing.’

‘I see,’ said Nicolai, disappointed.

All that done, he checked his Seed.

User Interface 376| Player #53,217

- Cultivation

> Seed Progress

Soul: 98%

Oma: 97%

He’d used it quite a bit, so he was unsurprised to see it’s Oma count was down even after he’d recharged it a little earlier. But the soul count had also taken a hit and it took him a moment to realise why, remembering what Kleos had told him the other day.

It must be the result of the Chosen breaking his glove’s shield when they shot at it, something Kleos had told him to avoid lest he damage his Seed. His Seed had experienced feedback, as Kleos termed it, and that feedback had indeed caused some slight damage, lowering his Seed’s Soul counter.

Looking at the numbers made him unhappy. Progress lost. He’d given the Soul Trap to the others, which he hadn’t realised would cause him issue, until now. He’d forgotten about the whole feedback thing.

‘Fuck,’ he muttered. If he tried to take it back they’d kick up a fuss, and in his current state of mind… it was best he avoided any confrontations. No telling what he might do.

He wanted to sleep but he needed to be ready to regain his Seed’s soul count the next day, once his band was removed. He took out some Oma crystals and fed his Seed until it reached one-hundred percent Oma once more. He could kill some of those light throwing undead above, they were in easy reach and should pose little issue now he had the shimmer poncho.

Then, with a sigh, Nicolai dug out the helmet he’d taken from the undead in the prison, and set to work.

An hour later, he lay the knife he’d done the carving with aside and looked the inscribed helmet over. With two hands and experience, he’d managed fairly quickly and easily. He pressed an Oma crystal to the siphoning rune with baited breath. The runes flickered. It worked. Good.

Sleep, he told himself. ‘Jar?’ he asked Kleos, to which the head blinked an affirmative.

Curled up in his nest of rags, Nicolai kept his tendrils of Soul Sense on the people in the surrounding rooms. Some were already trying to sleep, others were sitting, or moving, or talking. He attached these tendrils to them, and placed some on his door, and around the locked exit, so that they could alert him if something changed, then he tried to sleep.

His thoughts were focused on his band and the people outside. He was thinking that there was likely little choice other than to simply tell the truth. It was possible John had already worked out what the band represented; as why would he have avoided integrating his finished Seed and becoming a Cultivator already, if not for some problem? Why would he be so eager to have his band removed, unless it related to that problem? Were Nicolai in John’s position, he would have worked it out by now.

Regardless, the next day one of them would be removing it. Whether that individual was the last one alive, coated in the blood of his or her friends, or John taking it off him willingly, would be up to them.

Either way, the band is coming off. A smile crept over Nicolai’s face as he snuggled tighter into his rags, thinking of the day ahead of him, thinking of his band inevitably removed and his Seed integrated.