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Chocolate Flutter
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"So you must understand. Odon, Renz, Karx, Keya. All four are second to Locus. But the warminds do not even remember Locus as anything more than a promise. The sixteen selected were not themselves immortal as Locus was. They are all tied to devices and systems to continue their existences. Said systems have only improved over time, but they have lead to degradation of those they support. Older memories become trivia, facts that are known rather than direct experiences. Beliefs drift. Priorities change. Odon himself was flesh and blood alone, many, many years ago.
Each of the warminds has their own opinion on what would bring prosperity to us. Odon seeks progress. Karx seeks territory. Keya seeks restoration. Renz seeks expansion. All four are blinded to how far they have fallen from their own goals.
Most of the other warminds perished, but some were kept around. In significantly reduced forms. Shells of their former glory. As assistants. Or pets. Their only options remaining compliance or death."
Tekne twitches.
I am not really sure I expected a Fell not-a-warmind to be this critical of the warminds! Tekne pauses, mutters something to itself, and looks at me more closely.
"Of course, being my scout, and not Typhon's, you will not repeat a word of anything I mentioned to anyone else's. Because, of course, you are in fact my scout, as I can attest, and the fact you are so clearly a work of an intellect neither my own nor Odon's is but a ruse. Correct?"
"I, uh..."
"The answer is 'yes'. Because, as I have just said, you are my scout. Particularly well crafted to resemble one of Typhon's, and not a poor ichor imitation of a Fell scout." It rubs two of its limbs together. "Do we understand?"
"Yes!"
"Good. Now, as a clever imitation of an ichor creature, you can go places no clearly Fell scout could ever go. Such as a certain structure of significant importance. One that none of the warminds have claim to. It's knowledge that could change the world. I could alert the guards to your presence, but, well. The years have made me... bitter, I suppose. Resentful. Why are you here, though?"
"I, uh, um--"
"No, let me think. Tracing your path from entering to here, you're entirely lost, so this was a mission of minimum preparation. Either Typhon and his followers are less competent than assumed, or this was carried out urgently. Very urgently, in reaction to something-- the distress call, yes. That must be it. The timing is too close to be anything else. Well, how remarkable. This could turn out very well for both of us. The prisoner is under guard by Odon's elite guard. Highly sophisticated, highly loyal, very difficult to fool. I can get you access to the prisoner for whatever your purpose is, and, in return, I want information."
"Information of what?"
"It will take a while to even form the request. This is an opportunity I can't squander, and needless to say, there will be consequences if your creator does not hold up his side of the deal. If I can take a small sample of the ichor you are made of, I should be able to determine a way to contact Typhon with my request. We can negotiate the favour, but a favour is something I will be owed."
It taps its limbs in alternation. "Or you can just leave and this all will have never happened. Your decision. I would rather not have to alarm the guards. I can provide an escape route along with a distraction for free. It's in my best interests not to have been seen in lengthy conversation with an intruder, after all."
I wish Typhon was paying attention to help me decide whether to do this or not. Is anyone?
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