Age of Apocalypse: A demigod's demands

[x-eidolon.livejournal.com]

After months of searching, Rachel is finally able to find Xorn. But meeting the enigmatic mutant is not as she expected and she is forced to make certain choices.



The road to El Altar was mostly deserted, tourists season past and the way water swept. The rain was cold and persistent, coming down from a slate grey sky. Ahead of Rachel rose the Obispo peak - called 'The Bishop' by the locals for the tall brooding slopes and the steep peak. And somewhere up in the dark, rain slick rocks, was the most powerful psychic in the world.

She had climbed most of the way to reach him, sodden sneakers practically falling apart on sharp rocks as she pulled a raincoat tighter around her slight frame. But fear of falling to a certain death pushed her feet off the ground from time to time, propelled upward by the force of her mind until she landed some few feet away from the figure she had so desperately searched for. Looking every bit the drowned rat, Rachel peered out from under a soaked fringe, watching for a time as he seemed to do absolutely nothing.

“Hello, Xorn.”

The figure was sitting cross-legged, floating inches above the ground. The rain stopped in a dome around his outcropping, running down along the edges of the telekinetic shield as if it was made of glass. Inside, it was warm, a smokeless fire burning in a small cairn. It took her a moment to realize that there was no fire; Xorn was creating the heat and flame solely through opposing friction, a trick she'd heard conceived of but had never met a psion powerful enough to execute. It was strange that it was the most seemingly mundane power tricks which actually represented the most breathtaking levels of power.

Xorn looked at her, as much as was possible through his helmeted gaze. The files that Remy had provided had been clear. His powers, fuelled by a quantum star which had replaced his brain, were simply beyond the capacity for any person to control. So for a very long time, Xorn has ceased to be a person, inside living meshed inside the collective noosphere until his life was threatened and he reached out instinctively for help. The helmet had been designed by Essex and Forge, acting as a filter or a mental series of sluice gates, allowing the psion to control the level of input and keep from being swamped. It wasn't the same as suddenly being made human, and Sofia's psychological profile had been clear that his combination of powers and strength meant he simply couldn't conceive of things from a perspective any of them could understand. Or anticipate.

{{You speak with undue familiarity/closeness/experience, Rachel Dayspring.}}

“How else should I say ‘hi’?” She asked, carding fingers through her hair to get the water-logged strands out of her face. Her breaths came in shallow pants and she made no move to venture closer. To be completely honest, it was not registering properly that her year of futile searching had finally born fruit. “I mean no disrespect.”

{{It is not about respect/fealty/observance but instead about what it is you want/anticipate/wish from coming here/this place/my home.}} The hidden eyes regarded her levelly.

She shook her head as though attempting to dislodge the voice in her head, but only succeeded in looking like a wet dog shaking off its coat. Rachel sighed tiredly and decided, ‘what the hell’ before flopping down on the ground and allowing her powers to buoy her up in a lame imitation of Xorn’s position.

“I’m really sorry for intruding,” she said, taking a moment to gather her thoughts – somewhat futile given the powers of the mutant whose presence she was in. “I’ve come to ask for your help and goodwill. See, I’m from another world – a world that is in dire need of assistance. Apocalypse has amassed a great deal of power and is going to destroy Earth. I seek to gather a group of soldiers from here to help save it and what’s left of its people. Please… will you help me?”

{{Why/to what purpose/should we?}}

“Because otherwise a whole world will be lost.”

{{Worlds are lost everyday/always/eternally up and down the spiral. Why should I/we/ourselves give any one more consideration/thought/concern?}}

“If everyone thought that way about people, places and worlds that need saving, then what place does humanity have in the face of selfishness and self-preservation? Does apathy and turning a blind eye to a request for help make a person that much better than those who wish to inflict pain on others?”

It was a long shot, as far as arguments went. But Rachel was not above begging at that moment.

{{Because these things are inevitable/unchanging/inevitable across all worlds. All things strive, but no one/none/not any can strive for all things.}}

That was that then.

He was refusing to help.

Rachel shook her head in despair and buried her face in her hands, so close to tears that it hurt to hold them in.

“You are my only hope right now of saving my world. I don’t—I can’t—“ Her frustration was vented in a loud, frustrated sigh. “Tell me, what can I do to convince you to help me; to help my world. We have exhausted all avenues. I need this, Xorn. There is no other way.”

{{You ask/request/beg a favour/boon/wish? Curious/Interesting/Intriguing? And what do you have to offer/barter/trade, Rachel Dayspring-MacTaggart?}}

“Nothing,” she said, almost flatly. “Nothing but my life.” Which she would gladly give.

{{You are correct/right/accurate. It will cost/take/sacrifice your life to accomplish. Should I proceed?}}

There was a sharp inhale on her part, but the breath she released was quieter as she straightened to stare at Xorn, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Would she, despite her fervent declarations and staunch promises, give her life for so slim a shred of survival?

“Yes.” Her voice was soft – almost a whisper. “Please.”

{{Easily said. As easily done/completed/fulfilled?}}

The mountainside around her melted away, stripped to atoms and sent spiralling down a vortex behind her. She didn't have time to move or even react before the universe seemed to particalize and then stream away in all directions. She was cast off, bouncing between invisible forces, tumbling end over down in a manic freefall. Riots of colour fought immense sounds and sublime smells and intense tastes; every sense overwhelmed. She could have died of fright or laughed with joy, unable to separate out each emotion, throbbing like they had been discovered for the first time in her life. She screamed, she laughed, she wept, she raged, she shook from angry and orgasmed from passion; her mind felt untethered as her body flew, fell and floated, unable to make the distinctions any longer.

Until it suddenly stopped.

She was lying on cool grass, cheek pressed against the earth. Around her was a meadow; a lagoon formed in the middle of gnarled fruit trees so low as to almost be shrubs and small pines, equally knobbled. She was nude, but it strangely didn't register any more than a momentary recognition of the fact. In the midst of one of the trees was a young Asian man, unclothed and unconcerned. He hummed to himself as he worked, plucking small blossoms from the branches while leaving others. Oddly, her first thought was his humming; a Buzzcocks song from their self-released EP. One she had known only due to Amanda's fondness.

"Before you ask, that is what taboo feels like."

There was little she comprehended from that statement, but it seemed unimportant at that time. Rachel sat up with a thought and approached him almost tentatively.

“Why are we here?”

"I find it easier to limit my active consciousness to one voice on this plane. As for the garden..." He shrugged almost whimsically. "Some things are stereotypes for a reason. My Grandfather had a garden like this on his compound on Hong Kong. I find it to be a soothing way to interact with the noosphere. Retaining a core identity requires self-imposed limitations, including human rituals like this." He plucked another flower.

“I… see.”

Rachel’s gaze darted around, but she found that she was not interested in scrutinising the place, no matter how interesting. A separate plane of existence – one not wholly mental or physical. It was different from her other experiences with the astral plane. But that was not why she was here.

“What do we do now then? You said you could… would help?”

"You have a decision to make. Stepping between the barrier of worlds up and down the spiral isn't as simply done as crossing the street. The fact that you were able to do it in the first place is astonishing. You're lucky it didn't cost you more than your formerly prodigious telepathy. The energy required to transit you back is simple, but it will cost a life to return. At least one."

“Return… back here from my world?” The girl frowned as she mulled over their earlier conversation and debated the implications of his words. “I agreed to giving up my life.”

"What if yours isn't the only life you have to leave behind. I know your plan, of course. I know the questions you want to ask me, the people you will choose if you have to, and the conviction behind your words. But I don't and can't know your decision before you make it. It may not be at the cost of just your life. Is it still worth it for you?"

This time, the answer took longer to claw itself up her throat. She felt uneasy, and it showed on her face. “You mean, is it still worth it if I have to sacrifice someone else’s life?”

"Perhaps." Xorn nodded as he smoothed the progress of a new branch.

She shook her head and cast her gaze earthwards. The answer was at the tip of her tongue – what was the cost of a life in the face of the salvation of a world? But she did not want to. How could she? She had no right to ask of someone to give up their life for a cause not their own… Much less make the decision for them.

Was there no other way? Rachel swallowed the question as she studied Xorn’s feet, somehow knowing that he would tell her no.

“Yes,” she said quietly, and sank teeth into her bottom lip.

"Well, I suppose that is that." He turned to her, and Rachel suddenly found herself floating him front of him. His face was immense, a hundred stories tall, and her mote mote before it. "I will grant your wish, Rachel Kinross-Dayspring. I will send you home and return you. And you will pay the price for it, to heal the damage we are about to do to the Spiral, and the thousands by thousands by thousands expanding in infinate regression within."

His voice hammered her like a physical force, and she found herself falling, forward and down into the vast darkness of his eyes.