Mask of Humanity

‘This is Vikrum. Everyone, get back here. Now. We have a problem.’

The Radio receiver clicked and Vikrum placed it aside.

‘Are they all gathered?’ He glanced at Katnin, his second in command, doing his best to wrestle his anxiety down.

The red-haired woman was peeking out the door, and his gaze lingered on her back, every detail apparent from the skin-tight bodysuit she wore. Over her head floated blue limned words: Loyal - Pillar.

‘All the discontents are, along with Borg and Gilvine,’ she said, and turned to shine an eager grin at him. Vikrum quickly raised his gaze to her eyes, but from her smirk he knew she’d caught him. She swayed over.

‘You need to teach them their place,’ she hissed, running a hand over his arm. ‘You’re the boss, if they don’t like that… well…’

‘Well?’ he asked, unsure. Not because he didn’t know what she meant. Because he wished he didn’t.

‘Then they aren’t necessary, are they?’ She smiled dazzlingly, her expensive green eyes glittering like crystals.

So… what… kill them? He rubbed at the back of his hand, where the golden Mark shimmered on his synthetic skin. No… no. ‘If they don’t like it, they can go,’ he said, nodding, as thought he thought that was what she’d meant.

She snorted. ‘You’re the boss.’

Vikrum grasped the Smart-Gun from where it leant against the wall. His first Quest reward, but he’d yet to use it. He’d hoped he would never have to.

It may be necessary to utilise all that is available, said Cornwall, his personal AI assistant.

Vikrum winced. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t the others just accept it? He was the leader! He had to be the leader!

‘Okay,’ he told himself. ‘Okay.’ He opened the door and stepped through, onto the ledge above the staging area. A glance left and right revealed his most trusted Cultists waiting there, all of them with blue words above their heads, Loyal, Loyal, Loyal, and guns in their hands.

The angry chatter of the crowd filling the room drew his gaze to the mass of people. The words above them all were much more mixed. Some blue Loyals, but a lot of gray Undecided and even more red-coloured Disloyal. A brief check of his Quest revealed the disquieting news in starker terms.

Maintain three-hundred loyal cultists: 116/300

As he stepped forwards two of those in the crowd moved out to stand in front. One was a giant, the other skinny and slender, and both looked more machine than human.

Borg, the giant on the left, was a man—though you’d be forgiven for thinking him a piece of industrial machinery—that Vikrum had been struggling to rein in for some time. Undecided floated above him.

Gilvine on the right had a body of segmented black metal. He had no idea who they’d been, their gender or really any other details about them. Now, they were just a tall, menacing being. Vikrum had defaulted to thinking of it as a she, if only for his own comfort, and because where Borg was wide and bulky, she was slender and tall. A red Disloyal shone above her head. She had been Disloyal the entire time he’d known her, a fact he pretended to be unaware of.

There was also a clump of four smaller, well armed, almost identical looking cyborgs standing off to one side. They looked like mercs because that’s what they were. Four more Undecideds floated above their heads, though in this case Vikrum knew it wasn’t quite accurate. So long as he could provide the funds and equipment they wanted, they were somewhat loyal. But that loyalty was entirely malleable and fleeting, as shown by the undecided label. If they sensed his ship was sinking, they would jump to another in an instant.

Borg was on the lower Level 2 in terms of augmentation. Gilvine was two steps higher, upper Level 2, not far off Level 3. The four mercs were all upper Level 1s.

Vikrum, with his Level 3 augments, could take them all. Cornwall had assured him of that. But, he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t have to.

‘You know what we want,’ said Borg, his voice a synthetic buzz. ‘You never needed our Seeds.’

‘We want them back,’ added Gilvine, glancing at the mass of angry people behind her.

Cornwall severed Vikrum’s connection to his artificial face before his wince could reach it, keeping his appearance a confident mask. Vikrum’s Seed had already consumed all the others. He couldn’t give them back, and those two knew that.

So why? Why are they doing this? He’d let Gilvine, Borg, and all the other elites keep their Seeds.

This is a power play, said Cornwall. They are seeking to leverage the bad feelings amongst your people to oust you and seize control. There is above ninety-percent certainty that Gilvine is spearheading this attempt. She likely gained Borg’s support by telling him that if she leads, she will allow him more freedom to act as he wishes.

So what should I do? Vikrum pleaded.

Borg can be swayed back on-side with concessions. Without his support Gilvine will likely back off, or could be killed with relative ease.

What about… all of them? Vikrum’s eyes scanned over the mass of angry faces gathered about the two heavily augmented ring-leaders.

It has been proven that one can take another’s Seed and take control of it, make it their own, after some expenditure and effort. Your people have no Seeds and they know you cannot give them all a Seed, as you have only one and no way to split a Seed has been discovered. But, many others in this castle have Seeds. Yours is almost complete. The other groups are already seeking to destroy you and your Chosen. You can set the Chosen against them in true war. Borg will be pleased to be let loose. The people will be given a route to regain their Seeds. Gilvine will have lost her support.

Cornwall sent a quickly constructed speech to Vikrum, one that it claimed to have a ninety-eight percent probability of bringing his Chosen back on-side, and the AI assured him that this was the most efficient route to reach his goals.

I never wanted this. I never wanted so many to die. If I set them loose without restriction, not to mention Borg… this place will be a bloodbath.

It is your decision, master. You could flee, but losing your Loyal will see you fail the Quest.

Vikrum sighed. Failing the Quest would mean death. Is my life so important? His eyes narrowed. Yes.

They were stirring restlessly. He hadn’t been silent long but it was enough, and he knew they sensed his indecision. Some called out.

‘Give us the Seed!’

‘You’re a thief!’

‘Gilvine should lead!’

Vikrum’s speakers activated with a heavy synthetic whine that pierced the room and silenced them all.

‘My people.’ His voice rolled and boomed, but he paid no attention to the sound, allowing Cornwall to modulate it. His focus was simply on reading the script that had been prepared for him.

‘For those who have stuck with me so, who have maintained their faith… I thank you.’ His head turned, to glance at those either side of him, marking them, nodding to Katnin who smirked back. ‘For those whose faith has suffered, who have begun to doubt…’ His voice echoed off the walls.

The pause stretched and the unease of the people before him was clear in the shifting of their bodies, the uncertainty on their faces.

Vikrum began to raise his arms, spreading them wide, as though to embrace all of them. ‘I forgive you,’ he said, just as Cornwall detected the tension was at its peak. He had their full, rapt attention, now. ‘It is not an easy path we walk, and as we all know, some days are… harder than others. It is not your fault, but my own. I have held you back, restrained you all, for too long.'

‘I cannot give you back what I have taken. You all know this is impossible.’ Another pregnant pause. ‘But there are many Seeds in this place. They are held by the enemy. Those numerous groups who have assaulted us, killed us, spat upon the peaceful hands we extended towards them. We go, and we offer mercy to them. We offer a way forwards. And they repay us with scorn and gunfire. And I, I have failed you. For I have not permitted you to act properly in response to this.’

His gaze fell upon Borg, and Cornwall made a gentle smile drift across his face. ‘It is time I loosed those chains. My Seed is near completion. The great day we have been working towards is almost at hand. And I told you all, did I not? I told you that those who remained with me, who kept their faith, would be rewarded. With the near completion of my Seed, and our new knowledge of these Soul Traps, that day has come.

‘From this day forth, Seeds from those we encounter need not be handed in. They are no longer for me. They are for you. My people, it is time to do what we should always have done. It is time we fought back. It is time you claimed what is rightly yours. And I, I will be at your side. Me, and Borg, and Gilvine. We will destroy them. We will take their Seeds. Then, my Chosen, we shall take this world.

‘Who stands with me?’

From amongst the crowd there stretched a thoughtful silence. But then, clapping here and there, scattered among them, and next came shouting. These were plants Cornwall had suggested he place in the crowd, visible to Vikrum’s eyes by the blue word, Loyal, peppered amongst the mass of Undecided and Disloyal.

As he watched, the shouting and the applause began to grow. In pockets and clumps, Undecided flicked to Loyal and the blue spread, until the Disloyals were few and far between, little sparks of red amongst the sea of blue, many of them shifting into Undecided or even straight to Loyal.

His Mark shimmered and he glanced at it, seeing the Quest had been updated, informing him he was once more above three-hundred Loyal.

Hero of Humanity — Prove Yourself Worthy

You have been selected as a possible Hero of Humanity, one of those who will be at the forefront of the effort to save your race. It is a great responsibility, and you must prove yourself capable.

By accepting this Quest you have entered into a binding agreement. If the Quest is not completed within ninety days of the start-date, you will be found in Transgression against Heaven, and shall suffer Tribulation.

Your Hero System is: Cult Leader

In order to complete your Quest, you must act as a Cult leader would act. Tell your followers that you are a God, or a prophet, or a savior, and ensure they are Loyal to you.

Completion Requirement;

Maintain three-hundred Loyal cultists: 359/300

Act as a Cult Leader (score): Acceptable

Complete your Seed: 93/100

Time Left: 19 days

As he looked, the Act as a Cult Leader section changed, his score rising from Acceptable to Good.

Almost there. Cornwall allowed him to let out a strained sigh. He felt as though a great weight was pressing down upon him. Almost there. Just a little further, and he’d be done. Just had to keep going. Almost there.