[NoR] - [21] - When In Rome

The caravan was filled to the brim with inductees, every available seat occupied by the feeble, while those capable plodded along beside it. The Priests leading the armored beast in the front of the train maintained a constant murmur as they continually invoked their hymns. Razel stood near the back, keeping his eyes on the group before him. No sign of malcontent was evident during the entire leg of the journey from the church to the gate. The guard, seeing their approach, motioned to open the inner door of the lock. The pilgrims piled into the compact quarantine, the gate sealing behind them as the last stepped in. A hiss from the outer door was followed by the deafening roar of the wind tearing past the dome outside, massive banks of dust rolling across the waste and obscuring whole fields of view.

The caravan trudged aimlessly beyond the barrier, the wind whipping their fabrics about and rubbing many of them raw. The collectively ignored their discomfort, focusing on the hope for a life away from their troubles as a piece of the machine. Razel picked up his pace, striding beside a cleric near the back.

“Where, exactly, is the Foundry?”

The Priest nodded in the direction the caravan was traveling.

“A while in this direction. You must be the amnesiac.”

“Unfortunately, yes. I can’t remember anything before I woke up in the city. I don’t remember my own name, let alone where I’m from. I hope the clergy can help me find my place.”

“The Foundry is our source of strength in these literally dark times. You will see.”

“What is the Foundry, anyway?”

The priest covered his face as a particularly vicious gust swept through them. His response was muffled by the winds.

“It is our Monastery. All of us must make the pilgrimage at the time of induction.”

Razel thanked the priest for his assistance and fell again to the back of the group, keeping as few individuals behind him as possible. Whatever the ‘Foundry’ was, it certainly wasn’t good. The refugees were silent for the majority of the trek, rotating places within the wagons to allow each proper rest. Food was not provided, as the priests claimed that ‘once you have become a piece of the machine, you will never want for sustenance’. The terrain remained desolate and withered, with the corpses of the natural flora and fauna dotting the landscape as dust built up against their bodies. The low light that penetrated the thick black clouds above cast damning shadows in every direction, most of which couldn’t be seen past the dust that swirled around them.

On the final leg of the pilgrimage, the footing became perilous. The road met the base of a mountain, winding about the foothills and up the summit. The winds grew faster and harsher as they gained elevation, culminating near gale-force by the time the travelers came to a stop. The beast leading the train sensed the door before it was visible, slowing until it came to rest in front of a tall cliff. A large gate, higher than some of the buildings in the town, loomed over the pilgrims. The aura of dominion was overwhelming to the Planeswalker, his heightened senses perceiving the countless abominations below. Razel wobbled in his steps as he sought to compress the perception as well as his own energies. The Exarch stepped up to the door, placing his hand lightly upon the seam running down the center of the gate.

“My children…we have arrived.”

My earlier observation that the Academy would teach you about everything but itself was only partially hyperbole. I came to learn that there were very specific subjects whose access was restricted to certain parties. Things such as Planeswalker physiology, manipulation of planar Scars, the structure of the Academy…all these things were deemed too sensitive to be available to the entirety of the consortium. This served to make the assignments from Research & Development another of the factors that prolonged my stay. I have already admitted curiosity to a fault. Things I am told I should not know or be able to do are suddenly obsessive goals, inevitably spurring me to either find a solution or an alternate method. While I understand the inevitability of failure, I refuse to expect it.

I obtained my orders directly from Rokh, leading me to suspect that he held a position of respect. Once or twice a Golem would pull me from my class to fetch me, but inevitably it was on Rokh’s orders. I spent an inordinate amount of time contemplating the things I overheard, often using inspirations or ideas therein to spur my next choice of class. By learning to read between the lines and cleverly phrase my questions, I managed to eke out answers to some of my more burning questions.

Despite the temptation, I managed to avoid utilizing any further duplicates throughout my tenure in the Academy. Having multiples of myself, while convenient, would be very conspicuous, especially where my position was concerned. This is ignoring the hesitation I still cultured from last time, not wanting to deal with the side effects of possible rampancy. I managed to keep the spell secret, putting off any semblance of unusual activity as faulty recollection and backed up by my integrated memories from the Aught itself.

My departure, all things considered, was underwhelming. After the lifetimes spent fulfilling my assignments to the letter, the illusion of propriety I had built up surrounding them began to falter. My final assignment came in from a messenger sent by Rokh. A member of the R&D team, during a ‘routine’ series of experiments, had gone missing. I was to retrieve him, preferably intact, as their project was held in high regard. The nature of the experiment was not elaborated upon, although this was not unusual. With a ritual built from countless repetitions of the motions, I stocked up in the ready room and set the Dias to follow his scar.

The massive doors rumbled open, the light from within blinding them temporarily as the pilgrims stepped into the shelter of the Monastery. The refugees began to unwrap their cowls, taking in the splendor and horror of the sight before them. The interior of the mountain had been hollowed out and reinforced, lined with concentric arches that braced the rock like a series of colossal ribs. Within the massive cavern was erected a Citadel, the base far beneath their feet and the pinnacle far above. Large membranes were stretched across the walls, almost as if the tower were meant to have a skin of its own. The platform they found themselves on ran a ring around the cave, with various lifts and transports shuttling the occupants from level to level. The scent of oil was cloying within the monastery, filling their noses.

Gasps and shrieks slipped out of the visitors as they saw the creatures. A multitude of abominations went about their business, paying the pilgrims no mind. Their flesh had been stretched thin over an artificial frame, with two thematic groups discernible among them. The most numerous were the needle-wielders, their unnatural smiles cemented within steel lips, lacking any other semblance of a proper face. They varied in size from shorter than a wagon wheel to taller than the carriage itself, with all manner of variant in between. The others were fewer in number, but appeared to hold more authority. Their frames were encased in the same layered flesh as the others, but with porcelain segments grafted to their body in ways that must have been aesthetically pleasing to their deities.

Razel’s eyes widened as he fought back the impulse to open a void within the room, knowing he had to maintain subtlety for the time being. The Exarch walked up to the railing, turning to address his congregation.

“Do not be alarmed, my children. This is the blessing the Father of Machines can bestow upon you. These are the disciples of the Father, his divine servants. They are here to oversee our glorious work and to ensure that the Father’s gifts are distributed to those who have proven themselves in his eyes.”

The broken and beaten pilgrims weighed their options, many already accepting them as presented. Too much had been taken from them to care if they lost any more, making any promise more than they could stand to refuse. Slowly, they group made their way to the Exarch, following him towards the nearest lift. Razel quietly slipped away from the group, ducking behind a pylon as they passed. Preparing himself for extreme discomfort, he absorbed his robes, reshaping himself into a variant of the porcelain priests he had seen moments before. Razel inspected his pointed fingers, grazing them over his exposed flesh. Making sure to maintain an air of superiority, the imitation strode purposefully towards a lift.

The researcher, name of Karl, was a ‘human’ of Moorish complexion and ravenous intellect. Finding him wasn’t very difficult, although I was surprised to see him conscious. Previous attempts at rescuing researchers almost always involved saving them from their own mistakes, be it a project that had escaped or a creation functioning outside of its intended parameters. This one, however, almost seemed to be expecting me.

“Yes, yes, you’re just in time. Come over here and watch as I test the final phase of the device.”

My instructions were to keep him intact, so I felt there was no harm in humoring him temporarily. The room he was in overlooked a large port, the occupants bustling about their daily lives. Ships filled the harbor. The sounds of industry and commerce granted a backdrop of noise to the affair. As I took my place beside him I saw his hand flip a switch, initializing some series of mechanisms beneath our feet. The room shook violently. Karl only smiled. The ratcheting stopped, followed by a resonant gong. A ripple of energy flowed from the base of the cliff, enveloping the town as it swept across the buildings and ran through the streets. The wave instantaneously killed everything it came in contact with, and I watched in confusion as the townsfolk dropped like so many dominoes. As the wave propagated, a flash from the deck of a ship that had yet to reach the port brought a grin to Karl’s face. I stepped back, aghast.

“Complete success! Did you see?! That was an ignition, I’m sure of it!”

It took me a minute to put two and two together.

“You…killed them all? Just to see if any would ignite?”

“Yes. Well, the death was an unfortunate side-effect, but it only affects those without a spark, so there’s no real loss.”

This, I think, is where I cracked. I was furious. I was no stranger to the taking of life, but indiscriminate slaughter was not my style. Even when I decimate a population, there is a better reason than ‘just because’. I subtly activated my lock, and then I made sure Karl knew how I felt before I took action.

“That was wrong.”

“What? No, it was within a 15% error margin. Complete success.”

“You exemplify everything that is wrong with our institution.”

“I...wait, what? Me? What did I do?”

His ignorance only needled me on.

“We are told we are protectors of the Multiverse, meant to keep our kin from indiscriminately eradicating life as we know it. Yet you do things like…like this.”

He knew something was wrong. He looked worried, and he vibrated repeatedly as he tried to ‘walk and found himself incapable.

“Please…This is just an experiment, I was only trying to bolster our numbers-“

“Through the genocide of those who aren’t us? How is this protecting the Multiverse?”

He couldn’t answer me before I speared his chest with my fingers, sapping him to a withered husk in moments. I tossed it aside. His empty shell fell gracefully from his window, landing without nearly as satisfying a sound as I had hoped. I made my way outside, standing on a clearing overlooking the ghost town. I couldn’t bring myself to support an institution that knowingly encouraged these processes. I recalled the previous assignments which left feelings of uncertainty, the suppressed displeasure seeping into my thoughts. The decision not to return was hurried, but final. Not only had I directly disobeyed an order, I had executed someone I had been charged to protect. I thought back to the assignment with the rift, and how it masked any scar used to create it.

Going against everything I had been taught for aeons to this point, I tore the largest hole in space and time I could and sent myself through it.