Archive and Clockwork
Archive walks to the shelves formed in a pentagram shape. Each shelf creates the tedious lines, forming a complicated spell that keeps the old records semi-alive. Archive approaches a shelf and takes a pale book. He pulls the book out, the shelves and the pentagram flaring, scanning him from head to toe. Up above the ceiling corner, a turret was aimed at him, as if ready to fire.
Clockwork takes a step forward, raising a hand. Archive carries the book to the main platform, where a cluttered office space is. A mahogany table with a bagua with a clock in the middle behind the desk.
Archive opens the book and flips the page. "There is no record here."
Clockwork takes a peek at the white page. "He is unaffected as always. The Pale Magus remains unaffected."
"Fast as light, with a strength that decimates the strong," The Archive muses. "He scales what he cannot surpass. The Demi-Plague has proven once again that we are beholden to the whims of the strong."
"Are we not? We hold this world. We remember and we keep the clock forward," Clockwork said. "He is a loose cog like many of the Graded ones."
"He leaves the dead. The Demis will continue to exist and we will remain. Do we take his name off the list?"
"What can we do? The Magus does not care for the city, the planet, and the Fixation."
"And what can we do?"
"Nothing. The strong steps forward, the middling stays, and the weak cowers. I ask. What is the flow?"
"The world remains the same. Covered in the fog and the blindness of the abyss," the Clockwork said. "Time will push on and thus you must not stray from the record. The blank pages shall be filled with your own hand."
Archive takes a fountain pen off his strange robes. He spills the ink on the page and the ink forms into the page. But it was not the 'memory' of the Pale Magus, but the 'memory' of the Archive.
He now stood in the skies of Changye. Clockwork stands not far and the rest of the Graded Agents stood. Even through the act of reliving the memory, the Pale Magus turned towards their direction, as if it knew that they were watching. Senses that were beyond any explanations. A head covered in an eerie pale-black smoke. A simple formal white shirt and black tie and black pants and leather shoes. A gloved hand holding a simple steel sword that had been drenched in the blood of beings of many evils. A gauntleted left hand that held and crushed through layers of reality.
"We shall converse," said the Archive in the memory. "What is your intention?"
"Death," said the Pale Magus. "Of the one that you know. Get out of my way and let me do what I must."
"Do you have no intention of stilling your blade?" asked one Graded Agent.
"None. Either I slay a Demi today and be left alone or I shall pave a river of blood of those who dare to stop me."
You will be slain. That was the only thought everyone had. Clockwork had observed that their chance of victory was slim. Not even tinkering with time will stop this Humanoid Disaster.
Archive ran through all the solutions. Leaving only a single path that will minimize the damage of the Fixation, the very flow that keeps Changye from being strayed to the void that creeps in.
"A question and you may pass."
"Ask and I will answer."
"Do you hunt beyond these Demis?"
"Yes."
"Will you elaborate?"
"You have asked. I owe you none."
"Let us observe."
"IF you can."
Archive then raised a hand. "Do not block the Pale Magus."
The Agents held their stance. The Pale Magus vanished and transformed into a floating ball of light, leaving a trail of blood. There was no mercy given to those who had blocked the Magus's way.
Clockwork slowed time and yet the Pale Light was fast. By the time they had found the Magus, he had conjured a ball of light and sucked in the Demi. Through the Archive's eyes, he saw only the brutal death of Demi, who had taken the form of a young woman. To the Archive, it was clear that the Demi had not recovered its powers. In a way, it had forgotten its enemy and in turn, it had suffered.
The Pale Magus's sword drank the remains of the Demi. Leaving no trace of its existence.
"Are they all gone?" Archive asked. "If you would answer me kindly."
"Speak without spells," the Magus said.
Archive saw his left hand fly to the side, then disintegrated into pale dots of light. Clockwork shook his head, the bronze mask remained on his face as he rewinds the time, recovering the Archive's limb.
"Are they dead?"
"Yes. But they are fixed as well."
"Consider staying?"
"No."
"Why?"
The Pale Magus stood motionless amid the drifting remnants of pale smoke that curled like forgotten whispers around his form. The skies of Changye stretched vast and indifferent above them.
The Graded Agents remained frozen in their defensive postures, their powers humming faintly in the charged air, yet none dared to advance further. Clockwork's mechanisms ticked steadily beneath his robes, a constant reminder of the delicate balance they maintained against the encroaching void. Archive felt the pull of the record even here, in this relived moment, the ink on the page demanding more than mere observation.
The Magus turned his gaze slowly, the eerie pale-black smoke around his head shifting as if alive, sensing every intention before it could form. "Why? The question lingers like dust on old shelves. I walk the path that demands it. The Demis twist the flow, they pull at the Fixation until threads snap and worlds drift. I cut what must be cut."
Clockwork stepped closer in the memory, his voice measured yet edged with the precision of gears turning against resistance. "The Fixation holds Changye steady. Without it, the abyss swallows all records, all histories. Your blade disrupts more than it mends. We have seen the patterns repeat across eras."
The Pale Magus raised the blood-drenched sword slightly, the steel gleaming with an inner hunger that seemed to draw light from the surroundings. Droplets fell in slow arcs, each one evaporating into faint motes before they could stain the unseen ground.
"Patterns break when the strong impose will. You keepers of clocks and pages, you watch and record but never act beyond your circles. The Demi-Plague spreads because you allow the middling to linger in comfort. I end it here, in this moment, and the river flows cleaner afterward."
Archive's voice echoed with the weight of countless archived moments. "And if the river floods instead? We have cataloged the falls of greater forces than you. Empires of smoke and light, beings that warped time itself. They too claimed necessity. The blank pages fill with cautionary tales."
A low chuckle escaped the Pale Magus, hollow yet carrying across the skies like distant thunder. "Caution binds the weak. I have walked through layers you only glimpse in your pentagram spells. This gauntlet pierces what your records cannot touch. The one I hunt today hides in borrowed flesh, pretending fragility while corruption festers beneath. Tomorrow, another rises. The hunt does not end with words or observations."
The other Graded Agents murmured among themselves, their stances shifting uneasily. One, cloaked in shifting shadows, spoke up. "Your speed defies even our combined weaves. Yet we stand as guardians of the flow. To let you pass unchecked invites chaos into the archives themselves."
The Pale Magus did not turn to face the speaker. His focus remained locked on Archive and Clockwork, as if the others were mere noises in the wind. "Chaos is the precursor to order remade. Your archives grow stagnant with half-truths and preserved fears. I leave the dead as warnings, not burdens. The Demi is fixed now, its essence returned to the greater weave. No resurrection will pull it back from the sword's judgment."
Clockwork adjusted something beneath his mask, the faint whir of internal mechanisms audible even in the open sky. He rewound a minor thread of time around the group, restoring a fallen emblem here, steadying a wavering aura there. "We have rewound worse. But your presence strains the Fixation. The void presses closer when such power clashes unchecked. Tell us, Magus, what drives the hunt beyond mere destruction? Is there a design in your blade, or only endless severance?"
The smoke around the Magus's head thickened momentarily, then thinned to reveal glimpses of an impassive expression beneath the eyes that had witnessed too many endings to count. "Design is for planners like you. I am the response to imbalance. The strong do not ask permission from records or clocks. They act, and the world adjusts or perishes. The Demi-Plague spread because you debate while threats multiply. I have slain dozens across veiled realms, each one a knot untangled. The blood on this sword testifies not to cruelty but to necessity sharpened to its finest edge."
Archive flipped an invisible page in his mind, drawing more ink from the fountain pen that lingered at the edge of the memory. New lines formed on the pale book back in the pentagram chamber, detailing nuances unseen before such as the way the Magus's leather shoes left no imprint on the sky's surface, the subtle distortion around his gloved hand that suggested it gripped not just steel but fragments of fate itself.
"We observe still. The flow bends here, but does not break. If you continue, more Graded will rise to test your path. Not out of defiance, but preservation."
The Pale Magus began to dissolve once more into the floating orb of pale light, trailing crimson essence that faded into the winds. "Presume nothing. Watch, record, and turn your gears. The next Demi awaits, and with it, perhaps another conversation in skies yet unseen. Or perhaps silence, if your caution finally holds your tongues."
As the vision dimmed, Archive felt the memory's edges fraying, the ink on the page settling into permanence with added depth. Back in the chamber, the pentagram flared softly, acknowledging the new entries. Clockwork lowered his hand, the turret above clicking back into dormancy. The mahogany table with its bagua clock ticked steadily, marking the relentless advance of time despite the disruptions.
Chapter 77: Blooming Light
Blooming Light
I found my way back home after navigating through the thick and muddy streets of Lower Changye. All I could remember on the way back to my apartment was the dead idiots that still were pinned on the walls and the roads. The Pale Magus had made a show of strength, demonstrating his power in front of every citizen of Changye who had the eyes to follow.
Graded Agents had watched the whole thing like they were helpless bystanders. Made them remember that Changye and the world as a whole had not been kind. At the top of the world, they thought they were top dog until the brutal, ass-kicking reality of it comes in, that they are nothing more than slightly bigger fish in the lake.
My apartment had been somewhat of a mess. Thieves are as common as rats in Changye, and throughout my debt-slave years, I never really thought of keeping anything that can't be placed inside my dimenbags.
Still, from the looks of it, Mai had been able to test her new bioware and blade. I wonder who she killed. Not that it mattered. She waited for me at the door with two of her nakama who were in the process of cleaning their gear and from the looks of it, had taken my place as their safehouse.
"Sorry about that," she said, winking at her friends to fuck off, which, after much thought, decided it wasn't worth arguing about and ducked out of the apartment and went to the roof.
"I don't really mind," I said, placing a hand on my Castor. "I just hope you and your friends didn't turn this into a love motel."
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Of course not. There's a red light district for that."
"And I suppose that they parkoured their way from rooftop to rooftop then?"
"Well, not really, we mostly had to use the place to stay and relax. Flood was high and they barely got the roads from moving. Not to mention that whole Magus thing. Crazy. A few days ago we were clamoring about folks peeling their skin and then a Magus swept in and gutted the one responsible."
"That's Changye for you."
"And that's quite sad."
She had a look that made me wonder if she had other thoughts. But it was best if she kept that thought to herself. And Mai had been working in the subway before rising as a Kurogane member. Granted, that she was also smart enough to imply several connections, which I assumed, had granted this position. She rose fast and that is admirable.
"Anyway, do you need help? I doubt those two bitches are going to help."
"I'd treat you to a meal if you do."
We then started cleaning my humble abode. I had my suspicion, but seeing the lack of any contraceptives thrown haphazardly. I had to accept they weren't using my place for that. I did find calming drugs like modified benzodiazepines and a few marijuana, the mutated kind you can find on some street artist who makes a living of creating the best kind of weed you can find.
Aside from the trash and carton boxes of noodles and canned goods. The rest were easy enough to pack into a trash bag. Mai's friends, despite what Mai thought, later on delivered some Chinese grub, the cheap kind with artificial meat instead of real one.
"Good friends," I told Mai. "Anyone who gives you food, are good people."
"Nah, they are just bitches trying to get on your good side. Anyone who has a good rep with Upper Changye is a target."
"Well, I can't really deny that."
Mai ate her noodles quite… well. Not really minding the grease and the cheap meat. I don't particularly mind it either. It was good enough to taste and the years had taught me that any food that tastes good is good food.
"So how's Boss K?"
"Just the same. A bit depressed and all of that. I think she's still hung up on her ex."
"Oh yeah, that bitch who fucked with her. So did you?"
"Did what?"
I did not like where she was leading this. The grin tells me everything.
"You know what I'm talking about. Akun."
"No we didn't."
"Really?"
"No."
"But why?"
"She's my boss."
"Four of my previous bosses usually fuck their own employees. I don't see why you can't. Okay, maybe I misread how things are?"
"Maybe. I don't know."
She looked at me, then put the tip of her chopstick on her chin. Some of the grease dropped on her cleavage.
"So you have thoughts! That's not a no!"
She was grinning like I had just given her something fun.
"She's a pretty woman. Inspiring in some ways. It's not hard to feel attracted to her and as a man… you can't help it but be drawn. You can tell right? She has that charm that naturally attracts people around her. Makes you want to follow her."
"Nothing sexual?"
"I'd be lying. I saw her butt naked you know? She has the right curves and shapes."
"When!?" Mai asked, clenching her fists, expecting something spicy.
"During a devil's fragment appearance. Got locked in with her butt naked to make sure that we ain't affected by some devilry."
"And you did nothing!?"
"I wasn't really keen on being an amateur pornstar. She was not either."
"So what, you two stared at each other naked?"
"Somewhat."
"Wow. I have to give it to you, Akun. You have discipline… or is that cause you worked on a bordello and you got sick of all that?"
"I'm not that prude. I still get around."
"Sounds like a friend with benefits."
"More or less. I respect her. I really do. Ruining that cause I want to get into her pants? Not a chance."
"More than I imagined. You like Boss Kei, but you don't want to mess it up by trying to get into her pants. Complicated. But I kinda get it. If you piss her off, then she'll kick you out and if you try now, you'll just be her rebound."
I raised a brow. "Don't misunderstand. I am attracted to her, but that's all. And this is Changye, asking for a relationship in a city like this is asking for a heartbreak."
"Sounds like a bullshit excuse to me."
"Maybe it is."
Mai curved her back and then turned her attention to the bottom of her noodles. She wiped her mouth, placed it on the table, and then grabbed the paper tissues.
"Well, I understand the logic, but because this is Changye, wouldn't it make sense to just go for it? We don't know if we can live or die tomorrow. Some anomaly might just appear in the air and wipe out this city."
Her voice trembled at the thought of that. Changye was the kind of city that protects, it has stood the longest, has the greatest population among the fortified cities because of the promise of protection. There are many cities in this broken world, but it is only Changye that has stood against the worst and has come out alive.
Live now, worry later – many stood by that.
Some die for it.
Mai leaned back after finishing her noodles, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked at me with that familiar curious grin.
"So what's your next gig? You and Boss Kei got something lined up already?"
I shook my head while gathering the empty containers.
"There's still cleanup. Changye has to re-apply their rituals and magics and defense systems after the Pale Magus broke the balance. The whole city's wards got rattled pretty badly. Kei's office is mostly logging the aftereffects and selling the data for now. Nothing too crazy."
We cleaned up the food in silence for a bit, tossing the trash into a bag. Once everything was cleared, Mai stretched her arms above her head and gave me a look.
"Hey, do me a favor?"
She didn't wait for an answer. She straight up pulled her top off in one smooth motion, tossing it onto the couch. Standing there in just her bare tits, she turned slightly and pointed at her side, where the inked bioware lines were.
"Check me up real quick. I got slashed pretty good the other day."
I sighed. "Cheapskate. Give me your mod-kit."
She handed it over with a smirk. I opened the kit and started running a professional assessment on her bioware. The readings weren't terrible, but they weren't great either.
"The slash you took must have overworked your biowares. Everything's running a little hot. Have you been maintaining your meds?"
Mai scratched the back of her neck, looking away.
"Kinda forgot…"
I clicked my tongue. "Not taking the initial drugs will cause mutation, Mai. You know that. Do you want to grow a third boob?"
I moved closer and casually cupped her bare right breast, feeling around the tissue underneath. There was a small lump under the realskin.
"Lump has formed. Not malignant yet, but it will be if you continue to be negligent."
Mai looked down at my hand, then back up at me.
"…I'll take care of it."
She dressed up quickly, pulling her top back on without much fuss. I handed her the mod-kit and closed it.
"Don't be stupid next time. Get those meds in you."
"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Akun."
She gave me a light punch on the shoulder, the usual Mai grin back on her face, but I could tell she actually heard me this time.
We then got out.
I asked her what's next for her and she says it's the usual roaming and doing the Kurogane's tasks.
It was then that light bloomed. Dots of concentrated light blew through the dark clouds and Changye was filled with sunlight... which then caused a panic because there was no way that Changye could be this sunny.
People stopped dead in the streets. Some shielded their eyes like they had never seen real sunlight before. Others started shouting, pointing up at the sky like it had personally betrayed them. A few dropped to their knees, thinking it was another sign from the plague or some new disaster coming to finish the job.
Mai froze beside me, staring upward with her mouth slightly open.
"What the fuck is this?" she muttered.
The artificial clouds that had hung over Changye for as long as I could remember were breaking apart. Beams of actual sunlight punched through like spears, lighting up the wet concrete and turning the filthy floodwater into something almost beautiful for a second. It didn't feel right. Nothing this bright belonged in this city.
Sirens started going off in the distance. Somewhere above us, I heard the low rumble of aerocraft engines scrambling. People were already running for cover, like the sun itself was going to burn them alive.
Mai looked at me, half-grinning, half-worried.
"You think the Pale Magus did this too?"
I didn't answer right away. I just kept staring at the sky, feeling the unfamiliar warmth on my face.
"Something's changing," I said quietly. "Whether we like it or not."
She adjusted the strap of her submachine gun and gave a small laugh that didn't sound amused at all. She was afraid and anxious that something has come up again. Who can blame her?
"Great. Just what we needed. More weird shit on top of the flaying plague."
The light kept blooming, brighter and wider, cutting through decades of smog and artificial gloom.
For the first time in who knows how long, Lower Changye was bathed in real daylight.
And the whole city looked like it didn't know what the hell to do with it.