Session 18 – Mancipia

This is a session recap for a Kult: Divinity Lost roleplaying campaign. Jessy Button is played by my wife, who also does the art, and I am the game master.

This post contains visual nudity.

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All morning, Jessy feels blood trickling from her neck onto her clothes. Nothing there. She hurriedly packs all her most expensive things into two duffel bags and dumps the blood-stained tarps from upstairs in the garbage bins out front. It’s a dark day out, thick gray clouds covering the sky and making noon seem like twilight. The Mississauga and Toronto city centers are barely visible, just muddy shapes in the distance. Jessy calls an Uber to get to Tan’s place, watching empty stretches of highway and sad apartment buildings where people stand by their windows, staring out at the streets with empty eyes. Jessy has never seen Toronto quite like this, so broken and dismal. Color has drained from the prominent graffiti and senseless advertisements, marketing products she’s never heard of. It is a surreal experience, made worse by the only exception to this dullness. Each police car they pass gleams in proud white and black, a vivid display in the otherwise washed out surroundings. They’re not after her right now, she knows that, but their everpresence still discomforts her. At least Tan’s condo welcomes her with warmth and bright decor. She takes a brief moment to soak in it, but with some dismay realizes she has much to do still. Online, she builds her contact network and starts laying out some backup plans. What happens if she needs to flee? Where can she stay? The ritual is in two days. She has so much to do. Jessy spends most of her time agonizing over what is to come. When should she place Sol’s golden coins? What will she do about the last one? How should she attack Sol?

She gets some brief release from the paranoia when she speaks to Tan. They convene to affirm their plans, to make love, to laugh and to pray. The morning of the big day, sipping at something lightly alcoholic, Jessy looks to Tan and asks him how he thinks things will be different after they’ve summoned the mancipia. He laughs and lets himself rant a little. They could own any company they like. Go where they want. Learn the secrets of the world beyond their own, perhaps speak with the old beings that dwell there. Tan thinks that through the mancipia’s guidance, they could overthrow the ruling order of reality itself and truly change the world, maybe even rule it. Yes, it is grandiose, but this is a grand moment. So grand, in fact, that Tan has a gift for Jessy. She thanks Tan with an overly surprised gasp and from a neat plastic wrapping she unfolds the robe. Custom tailored for her, a robe in black and red same as the one Tan wears. Since they ought to represent the Twins during their ceremony, Tan thought it fitting. Jessy thanks him a hundred times, with a hug and a kiss, and says she’s eager to try it on. Behind the facade, the robe only reaffirms what she already knew. Tan is only a fool who has fallen for her. This gift to tie them as equals only proves to her that he is beneath her. Jessy has conquered him. All she has to do now is hold on to him.

Once Jessy has put on the robe, one giggling striptease later, Tan asks her what she hopes to gain from the summoning. The mancipia will doubtlessly offer many boons to them all. She has to think about it. So caught up in her own plans, she hadn’t considered the possibility. As ever, she answers that she still wants to understand her ring. She feels as though there is much left to learn about it. Tan isn’t surprised, but remarks that he thought they’d agreed by now that the ring is dangerous. She knows it is, but there is much to gain from danger. Their ritual is dangerous too, but Tan would not hesitate to perform it. On that note, Tan has to ask Jessy about Angela. He knows that Jessy’s grandmother has caused her some issues. Jessy answers confidently that she has taken care of Angela. Tan told her to get it under control, so she did. He doesn’t need to know more, and it seems he doesn’t want to. Tan takes Jessy’s hands in his and squeezes them. Tonight will be a good night.

The condo is alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking classes, and intense whispers. Tan’s flock numbers less than fifty, all in all, but with all of them filling up the lounge areas and corridors they seem so many. Jessy knows them all now, much thanks to Tan’s notes, and flits through the crowd with her black and red robe to make her presence known to them. This is the big night, and she knows to play the part. Her status among them as Tan’s Twin is unquestionable. They should see her, know her, revere her. She receives many compliments from her flock, both on her looks and on the good she does for them by participating tonight. She will guide them to new heights. Tan and Jessy share a glass of wine and kiss, prompting applause and cheers from the worshipers around them. Near everyone is brimming with positive sexual energy, sneaky handjobs under tables and bedroom doors closing and opening surprising no one. There are some that would sour the atmosphere, though, and Jessy notes them immediately as they approach her. A group of five or six, mostly men whose faces she recognizes as old members of the flock. Leading them, and tapping the cane he needs to walk against Jessy’s ankle to get her attention, is Joe. Jessy chiefly remembers him as the madman with the paintings, but knows now that he owns or controls a significant amount of his local community in East York. She also knows that he is Daisy’s uncle.

He asks Jessy with a growl of a voice whether she thinks Tan is making a mistake. She’s baffled, how could he suggest such a thing? Joe argues that considering how she acted last time they were congregated, it doesn’t seem right that she should be trusted with this. There are grumbles of agreement behind him, and many eyes fall on Jessy to judge her response. A wide grin spreads on her face. So they have conflict with her? That’s good, even exciting. She invites him to revel in it, but if he intends to take the two-headed goat’s twin advice then he should also act on it. In short: What’s he going to do about it? She is wearing the robe – will he rip it off of her? Joe’s face scrunches up into a mass of wrinkles as he glares at Jessy, annoyed with her arrogance but unsure how to challenge it. She continues, telling Joe that she recently had a disagreement with Daisy and that they worked through it quite well. He looks around for his niece, spotting her in the all-red outfit Tan has put his staff in for tonight. He calls her over by her other name, Sachiko, and Jessy watches with delight as Daisy’s face transforms from confusion to excitement and then, once she notices who Joe is talking to, anxiety and leal subservience.

She hurries over, head bowed in Jessy’s presence, and is asked to elaborate on her conflict with Jessy. Without divulging any details, Daisy confirms that Jessy and her have resolved the issues between them. Joe asks her if she believes that Jessy should be wearing that robe. To Daisy’s side, Jessy nods lightly with the same grin that has been stuck on her face throughout the conversation. Of course Jessy deserves the robe. Tan gave it to her, she has every right. Daisy adds with a slight quiver to her voice that she has full faith in Jessy tonight, before scurrying off to refill someone’s glass and to get away from the situation. Joe remains unconvinced, but Jessy is done with the conversation. She tells him that she can’t make them trust her now, and that they will simply have to enjoy the ceremony. She promises it will be beautiful, and that Joe and the rest will see all the good that will come of them dying for it1.

1 Haunted Hold spent

Jessy’s face has gone numb. She’s not in control of her throat anymore, or her face, and it’s spreading. Why now? There’s confusion among Joe and his compatriots – did she really just say that? Die? They try to stop Jessy from walking away, asking questions she can barely hear, but she marches away from them and none dare actually lay a hand upon her before she gets to the bathroom. Her mind is going cold, gray, her body falling out of her control. Jessy barely manages to sit down on the toilet seat, Angela’s whispered voice building in her mind as everything else disappears. The world must certainly still be around her, but nothing in her brain is registering it. To Jessy, she is stuck in a soundless gray void, sitting on and surrounded by nothing. She cannot even be sure she still has her body. All she’s sure of is that her grandmother is speaking. She asks again for Jessy’s body, and for the ring. She can continue to disrupt Jessy’s life, ruin it at any moment, or Jessy could simply give herself up willingly and be spared the pain of it. Jessy won’t budge, of course, and shouts inwardly for Angela to fuck off. Stubbornness must run in the family. Angela asks what Jessy even needs the ring for. What is her plan with it? She needs it for tonight, for the ritual and everything after. A loud, overpowering laugh makes Jessy shrink into nothingness. Such trivial concerns, such pointless drivel. Angela seeks her ancestral home, the place where she lived before any of them were born. Her cradle. It exists out there, she knows it, but she needs the ring to find it. It is exasperating to listen to her rambling, so Jessy simply responds: Can you wait?! Another cackle, imposing. Her grip on Jessy is strong, for the moment. Angela lays things down very clearly. She does not care about what her granddaughter is doing. Her dealings are inconsequential and foolish, and will get her killed sooner than not. There’s no shared respect between them. Angela just needs the ring and a body. Out of the gray stillness, Jessy can hear sounds again. The celebrations come back to her, though she’s not sure how long she’s been gone. Materializing out of nothing, she finds her body in the bathroom where she left it. It feels as though she’s been asleep for months, though one look at a watch tells her that it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Her stomach violently protests her attempt to move, but Jessy ignores it just as she’s resolved to ignore her grandmother. She should go see Tan.

With a sweet caress and a kiss, she pulls him into the office. Tan is expecting something much different than what Jessy has in mind, and stops taking off his robe only when she explains that there are some in the flock who doubt her position. Tan understands them, it is only natural to question. He wants their names, dedicating each to memory for future reference. They will go ahead with the ceremony as planned, of course, Joe and the rest have no choice but to follow instruction. Their grievances will only serve to strengthen the bonds between them. A short prayer to Dehu before Tan suggests that they go upstairs and make the necessary preparations. There is much to set up. Jessy fetches Carolina to help, letting the older woman carry the heavy boxes of materials up the stairs to the conference hall and temple. Standing torches, candles, incense, statuettes, cloths in black and red, and a hundred strange trinkets Tan has collected from around the world. All must be arranged meticulously. A circle of torches in the middle of the floor mark the center of their celebrations. Candles, ropes and gemstones are laid out in intricate lines and curves all around, while chairs and tables are moved into or out of the way as necessary. All three of them are hard at work, so it is near effortless for Jessy to add her little alterations to their circle. The golden coins that Sol gave her, which will in some way disrupt the ritual and according to Artyom bring Sol to them, are placed underneath statuettes, hidden in the hollow base of a torch, and tucked into a neatly folded piece of fabric. Tan and Carolina, focusing fully on blessing the black throne at the far end of the room with Tan’s semen, pay no mind to Jessy’s treachery.

The numbness returns as Jessy lays out the holy objects on their altar, a table swept in black cloth at the far end of the circle of torches. She tries to ignore it, but Angela’s voice intrudes from inside her own mind. She questions Jessy’s trust in her demon friend. Artyom doesn’t have an interest in Jessy, if he claims to then he is lying about that as well as many other things. Razides are treacherous beings, and he will betray Jessy before all this is over. Angela is sure of it. Leaned frozen onto the altar, one hand on the fine silver stiletto knife, Jessy tries to think of a response without speaking out loud. What would Angela have her do, then? Just run away? For once, the haunting presence agrees. Abandon the ill-fated power struggle she’s buried herself in, escape this thing she can’t win and disappear. Angela mocks Jessy for her poor judgement. She should not have ended up here. No matter the outcome of tonight, she’ll have made a lot of enemies. If she manages to flee, she can give up the ring to Angela, the two will part and Jessy can live out the rest of her sad life in relative peace. Descend with Artyom, however, and her existence may be eternally forfeit. They part after these troublesome words, Jessy fiddling with the scroll at the center of the table as she thinks all too deeply about what Angela said. She knows her grandmother is a manipulator, likely as cruel as Artyom, but she still sows the seeds of doubt within Jessy. She cannot let the fear of failure poison her mind. The scroll in her hands contains the true name of a mancipia, a name which neither she or Tan have read. They’ll speak it at the end of the ritual, the summoning will be complete, Sol will somehow show up, Jessy will attack him, and Artyom will help with the rest. The plan is so good. She refuses her own doubts, swallows them, and leaves to take part in the dinner served downstairs.

The kitchen delivers trays of exquisite food, offered with a few colorful pills to the side for those who want or need them. Jessy sits in the dining hall next to Tan, with many familiar faces around her. She recognizes many of them from the MyGems party, but that memory feels infinitely distant now. Someone remarks that James has really outdone himself with the food tonight, a comment which Jessy simply has to smile and nod to. There’s a multitude of questions asked around the table. Will Jessy and Tan speak with Dehu and Mil directly? Will the Twins appear among them? Jessy smiles and answers simply that anyone can communicate with the Twins directly, they need simply pray and find guidance. What of their ceremonial duties? There’s been talk that they will be grouped together. David Clap wonders if Jessy would bless him with her body. She laughs, and Tan explains to them that they’ll be arranged and instructed when the time has come and not before. Jessy adds that all they should keep in mind is staying true to themselves. There is no room nor need for doubt, in themselves or otherwise. The entire dinner proceeds in much the same way, chatter and laughter and questions both practical and deeply intimate. Jessy handles it with an aura of unbridled intensity. She has a confidence to her matched only by Tan’s own, as if they both truly believe everything they are saying.

Their flock ascends to the third floor in an orderly line, greeted by Jessy and Tan who give to each participant some small object chosen specifically for them. For some it is a colorful stone carved with a symbol, a few receive gemstones or chains of gold and silver. A pocket knife, a pair of earrings, or a wooden phallus. The only instruction they receive is to hold on to what they’re given and never let go once Tan begins his sermon. The air is thick with incense, arousing scents from around the world burning from multiple censers. The only light is provided by candles and torches, the walls and all their decor cast in shadow. Every person in the room, save Tan and Jessy, undresses. They caress each other for idle pleasure, the same as always, waiting for guidance. Tan gives it. He invites Jessy to stand beside him in front of the throne and speaks to his pious followers about the future of the world. After tonight, a new reality will open to them all. A servant of the Twins, divine essence made flesh, will come into existence to guide and bless them all. Tomorrow is a bright day, glory unlike any before will be brought to their congregation by Dehu and Mil. It is through their will and strength that they’ve come so far, and it is through them that all wishes come true. He takes Jessy’s hand and the two walk slowly into the circle at the center. Their people are sorted into groups or left to stand alone, taking their places among the carefully planned symbols and patterns on the floor. Nothing placed down may be disturbed. Once everyone has found their place, Jessy and Tan provide simple instructions for them to follow, with a promise of more to come. Daisy, Carolina and two others are to be struck with thin metal rods as they sing their song. They know the one. Two men, both named Eric, are to maintain a kiss while seizing each other’s manhood. Every member of the cult, sorted into groups based on their personal and interpersonal history, wealth, and conflicts within and without the flock, has something to do, sometimes explained with extreme specificity. Neither Tan nor Jessy allow any room for error. Once done, they meet again at the center and Tan holds Jessy close as their kiss begins the ritual. He lingers against her mouth, a passionate display showing all the love he feels for her in that moment.

Flickering lights illuminate the naked bodies surrounding Jessy and Tan. The loud clap of hip against ass or hand against face, slobbering sucking noises and moans or shrieks from every mouth. Above it all, Daisy’s shrill voice accompanied by Carolina’s clear, deep one as they sing in harmony, rhythmically interrupted by the violent rod-strikes on their backs. Sweat, incense and raw power fill the air like a heavy mist as Jessy steps from torch to torch, chanting the words Tan taught her. Her eyes briefly dart to the focal points as she passes them, ensuring nothing has been disturbed or discovered. She passes Joe, a golden chain tight enough around his throat to turn his face red. She leans in and kisses him, then laughs and tells Shannon behind him to get Joe up on the chair and give his cock the same chain-treatment. The entire scene is beautiful to her. Jessy stops and takes it in for a second. These people’s lives are all in her hand. She doesn’t know what will happen to them after tonight, but for the moment they are fully hers. Tan waits for her by the altar. The time has come.

As she dances over to Tan, Angela’s words come back to her as an unpleasant thought2. What if Artyom betrays her? Sol promises wealth beyond measure, money and control that’s all hers and so easily. All she would have to do is swallow the coin3. No. The doubts will have to wait, and so will Angela’s empty grayness pressing in. She steels herself, the flex of her neck muscles pushing painfully against the invisible barbed wire. Artyom is the only answer. Tan lifts the scroll from the black altar with Jessy beside him, carefully unfurls it, and holds it up for the two of them to read. The hall falls silent, heavy breaths held back in anticipation as everything stops. The flock’s eyes all fall on their twin priests.

2 Haunted Failure 3 Greedy Failure -1 Stability Endure Trauma reduces Stability loss

The text, if it can be called that, on the scroll is in no language Jessy can read, yet both she and Tan immediately take in the complex geometric patterns which reach out into three dimensional space off the flat surface. They know the name already, they always did. Sol’s last gold coin is heavy in her interior pocket as she speaks the mancipia’s name. The entire congregation hears it, yet none could claim to remember the word once spoken. A flash of light blinds them, pillars of fire rising in a moment from each torch and candle. Wind rushes at Jessy’s feet and through her hair, the air sucked towards a single point in the middle of the room. She rubs her eyes and tries to make out her surroundings. Did they do it?

The being, three meters tall or more, stands waiting among them and most cannot help but gasp in shock and wonder as their sight returns. Silver skin, smooth and glistening, on a perfectly toned and curved body. Armbands of gold cling to its forearms, otherwise it is entirely naked and shameless of that fact. No mortal man could challenge the size or beauty of its erection. Clawed hands, feet which burn black marks into the floor with each step and a face lacking eyes aren’t deformities when looking upon the mancipia. Its appearance is perfect, from its plush wet lips to its large, firm breasts and long legs. No longer does anyone in the room desire one another – their lusts follow the air rushing towards the mancipia. Clouds of incense, sweat and smoke form above it, and with a smile it greets its two summoners who, with eager but careful steps, approach it.

Tan is first to speak, announcing the godlike creature as having come at the behest of the Twin god as a teacher and guide. The mancipia, its voice like honey, responds that it came on no god’s will but theirs alone. It serves its creators, those who spoke the ancient name they once gave it. The mancipia asks Tan and Jessy to tell it all their desires, present any questions. It has much to offer them. Jessy is too awestruck to speak, her mouth halfway open as she takes another step closer to the tower of pleasure made flesh. She does not yet dare reach out and touch it, but the heat from its body is enough to make her mind foggy with lust. Even the sound of the mancipia’s breathing makes Jessy’s legs weak. If Tan is as smitten by the mancipia as she is then he hides it better than her, though his voice still trembles as he begs of the mancipia to teach them all the secrets of human pleasure. Tonight, they must celebrate and worship their new servant and guide. There is no pause before the mancipia’s response. It will reveal to the cult all the things which they have forgotten. They will once again revel in love and joy together. It is a beautiful promise, soured by the heat suddenly draining from the room. The swirling air comes to a halt, the mists dissipate, and a numbing cold sets in. The mancipia turns its eyeless gaze to Tan, the inviting smile gone from its face.

“You are under attack.” – The mancipia

There is no time to react. Behind them, a noise like the rumbling and cracking of falling rocks4. Jessy turns on the spot and is met by a sight absurd enough to make both her eyes and brain hurt. Sat on Tan’s throne of carved black stone is Sol. He is dressed in a brown and white suit, looking as immaculate as the first time she met him, sitting cross-legged and observing the room. His mouth is a line and all around it deep wrinkles born of anger. Behind him, reality itself is crumbling. The beautiful paintings of the Twin God’s glory break apart, and from behind them a pale blue glow floods the room and flushes out the torches and candle light. The walls themselves dissolve, and as Sol stands from his seat of power the ruin follows his footsteps. Behind Sol, all barriers dissolve into that sterile light. What lies beyond it, Jessy cannot see nor fathom.

4 See Through The Illusion Partial Success

The room erupts in panic, Tan yelling for people to do something, anything. The mancipia stands still and tense, watching Sol approach it and only it. He has no eyes for the frightened, screaming rabble, focused solely on the demon standing amongst them. This is Jessy’s chance, and she knows it. She stands silent, keeping her wits about her as best she can and carefully takes the long stiletto blade from the altar. From where he got it, Jessy cannot say, but in the literal blink of an eye he holds in his hands a sword unlike any Jessy has seen before. The broad blade of shining white metal radiates with decadent power, and the handle of gold and silver holds Sol’s hand as much as he holds it, as if it was wrought for his grip and his alone. Large, white feathers with golden tips swirl about his feet and leave a trail behind him. Jessy has to fight herself not to fall onto her knees in his presence, and the coin in her pocket begs to be swallowed. The fear of having made a mistake digs deep into her. Is it too late to follow Sol’s instructions and abandon her plan? Artyom’s collar constricts Jessy’s throat at the mere thought, piercing pain as the invisible barbs dig into her. Sol passes her to reach the mancipia, and no one but Jessy has the awareness, bravery or plain foolishness to try and stop him.

Dagger in hand and mere steps away from plunging it into Sol’s back, she watches his wings unfold. The suit stays on by some unknowable magic, and Jessy’s is blinded by Sol’s massive wingspan, gorgeous white feathers all dripping with molten gold. She freezes in place, overcome with the kind of existential fear she thought had long abandoned her. The tall man she struck a deal with looks all too much like an angel, a servant of God himself, for her to simply ignore it. Having promised herself to Artyom, she should not be surprised to find herself on the wrong side of Christianity. The angel swings its sword towards the mancipia, who barely sidesteps the flash of light that accompanies that holy weapon. A line of white fire bursts out from the walls and floor, Sol’s slash obliterating their surroundings. The mancipia, steam rising from its perfect body, lets out a howling scream but doesn’t yet attack back. Its heaving chest, nipples erect, has a thin trickle of blood running down it from a gash in its neck. Grazed, not yet wounded.

Jessy knows there is no time to wonder and worry about the full implications of the situation, she must accept her role as someone much smaller than what she’s witnessing. The deal is the deal, and sticking to it is her best option. Her blade moves fast to kill Sol before he can even notice her5, but one of his wings strikes Jessy down before she can even get close. With her face to the cracked and crumbling floor, she can hear the front door of Tan’s apartment getting kicked down. Lots of people getting inside, and fast. It’s all too much to react to, Jessy’s scream of panic drowned out by many others as she fails to get to her feet, crawling away from Sol as he turns towards her.

5 Backstab Failure

“You would seek to betray me?” – Sol

His eyes are like orbs of liquid gold, no pupils, yet no doubt as to who his focus is on. His voice completely overpowers any other noise in the room. Jessy scrambles backwards, looking from side to side for any help or solution. Tan is blocked by the angel and surrounded by his frightened disciples. All Jessy can do is to grab one of the naked cult members, cowering in fear, and pull him to his stomach by the hair. He has to die so Jessy doesn’t. Her frantic gaze shifts between Sol and Karim, her victim, as she stabs into his back with the stiletto and cuts deep lines which fill with blood in an instant.

Tan yells for her, tries to get close. His eyes meet Jessy’s, he sees the lines Jessy is carving into Karim’s back, and something clicks6. She made this happen. He screams about Golachab, about Artyom, about how Jessy betrayed them all. Rather than fighting him, Jessy continues to stab her only way to safety. If she could bring Artyom there, or take herself to him, she might survive7. Tan rushes forward, but his assault is cut short by Sol’s sword, a single slash causing a wall of white fire to burst out of the floor to separate Tan and Jessy. Her ring is burning hot, its distant screaming filling Jessy’s mind and soul. Something is still wrong. The sigil isn’t good enough, and Sol’s fury is coming down on her in a second. The point of his sword is at her face, and through her tears all she can see are blurred shapes of white, blue and gold. Somewhere distant, the police monster Ellis O’Donovan has beaten down the door to their ceremony to round up everyone in the room. As all thought collapses into a singular point of fear and failure, Jessy discovers in her a memory from before she was born8. Angela knows a way out, and from her incessant whispers in the back of Jessy’s mind, she is keen on taking it. Sol’s sword is raised high above her, she will either do as Angela wants or she will die. She sinks the stiletto deep into Karim one last time, his entire back a red ruin, and allows for the moment that Angela take control of everything. Jessy detaches from the world and watches from afar as Tan in his rage pounces through the divine fire to come at her. Robe aflame, he crashes into Jessy. They tumble, but not onto the floor. Sol’s sword bears down on nothing, Tan saving Jessy’s life but falling with her and Angela into darkness.

6 Liar Hold spent 7 See Through The Illusion Partial Success 8 Haunted Hold spent

A black sun burns in the sky. Jessy is on the ground, but how she got there she cannot say. Her body is numb, but she can move it. She hacks and coughs, a bit of blood sputtering out on her bottom lip, and tries to stand up. A foul smelling gust of wind rushes through the narrow alleyway that they’re in, her and Tan. Sunburnt cobbled stone covers the ground, the walls on either side of them rock and cracked mortar. The streets beyond look much the same, and deserted. There are sounds carried on the wind, but they are distant. Crying. Howling. For an instant, she feels like joining those voices. By the time Jessy has gotten onto her feet, clutching her dagger to her chest and overjoyed to at least still have that, Tan has patted down the last of the fires on his robe.

He is furious. This is all Jessy’s doing, he knows it now, and she has to pay. She ruined his life’s work, everything they’d built, and for what? Who was that, what was he? Tan continues to yell abuse at Jessy, coming closer to her until she holds out the knife to keep him at bay. She interrupts him, she doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Tan is just a little man with a god complex. Jessy needs to find Artyom. Mentioning the razide is the last drop for Tan. He tries to attack Jessy again9, but with the stiletto at the ready she doesn’t hesitate to stick him with it. He stumbles backwards, clutching his shoulder. Not a grievous wound, but Jessy can see blood on his fingers.

9 Engage in Combat Partial Success

Not done yet, Tan argues through the pain. He needs to know how long Jessy’s been conspiring with Artyom, what he promised her, and why she targeted Tan with this cruelty and betrayal. He doesn’t understand. It’s embarrassing to see Tan so diminished, so lost, with nothing left to offer her. She has nothing now, but neither does he. She never had any intention of ‘targeting’ Tan. He was never part of Artyom’s plans, nor hers. He dealt with simple, human concerns and promises of power. Thanks to Artyom, Jessy sees beyond all that now. She’s stayed close to Artyom since the first time they met, and it’s him and no one else that’ll be her guide. Every word she speaks makes the man shrink yet another bit. So simply does she dismiss him, his accomplishments and struggle. Tan’s life’s work, demolished in an instant by Jessy’s own pursuit of… what, exactly? He calls her insane, that she’s lost her entire mind. She’s not a god! She can’t help but smile a little, the tears evaporated from her face. Why bother being human?

Tan backs away from her. There is anger in his eyes, yes, but also fear. Whatever’s become of Jessy, he cannot be part of it anymore. He trusted her, gave her so much, and was trampled in return. She knows, with Angela’s memories of this place returning to her, that inhuman beasts stalk the streets at times. Tan may die if he leaves her, and she tells him as much. She knows a way out, or at least her grandmother does. He’d tell her to go to hell, but it may be too late for that. Instead, Tan spits in her direction and hurries around the next corner, onto a street Jessy knows won’t be safe for someone like him. The patter of his feet turn into a run. He won’t stop for a long while. Jessy is finally alone, or would be were it not for Angela’s nagging whispers. She must go, leave this dusty alley and follow the street. The city seems to go on forever, hollowed out and withered buildings packed densely around wide streets. The roads must once have been beautiful, but roots and metal scrap have warped and broken them all. The cobbled stone is flecked with blood and dirt, chipped by a thousand weapons and overturned from explosions and heavy machinery. Jessy moves as quickly as she can on these treacherous paths, feeling eyes on her from every hollow home and around every corner. Angela guides her steps, and she has no choice but to follow. Every other path leads to destruction.

The songs and tears and snarling from all around her while the world lies dead has Jessy looking over her shoulder by the second. All she can see is that monstrous tower looming on the horizon behind her. It is difficult to look directly at it, and Angela’s scattered memories of that place discourage further thought. Jessy reaches the building from her grandmother’s dreams, not sure how long she’s been moving or where. The two story home must have been hit by some devastating weapon. Its front wall is entirely collapsed, forcing Jessy to walk through the rubble with all its sharp edges and treacherous footholds. Within, she knows to go down the set of stairs to the basement. The light from outside barely illuminates the chamber below, where Jessy’s echoed steps linger for an uncomfortably long time. There’s only a single room below the building. There is a mess of tools and strange objects littering the floor without any semblance of order: shovels, picks, lengths of rope, small black spheres and metallic contraptions without clear purpose. The walls are equally in disarray, beaten and chipped and painted with what must be blood. Some of the dried and flaked patterns look old, while the wall beside Jessy is still sticky. She recognizes some of the arcane symbols, but the recollection is vague and confusing, her own thoughts and memories intersecting with Angela’s to make her stomach churn. A noise from the shadowy back corner of the room lifts Jessy’s gaze from the fragmented ritual on the wall beside her. Shuffling, groaning, someone getting closer. In the dim light, she first makes out the long brown hair, caked with dirt and clumps of blood. Angela laughs. Jessy keeps control of her body, yet she can’t move a muscle as she recognizes her mother’s green eyes.