Calling it 'a bit of a walk' had been a gross understatement. It wasn't quite a lie, but Alarion had spent enough time in Vitrian company that their dislike of dishonesty had rubbed off on him. He was annoyed and did his best not to let it show as they traveled along row after row of what he now knew to be 'data servers'.

Alex had at least kept the walk from becoming boring. There were critical gaps in the digital man's memory, the so-called fragmentation, but what he'd been able to convey had been elucidating.

<They aren't even inside?> Alarion asked with a frown. <So they really are Soulless.>

<They are Active Frames.> Alex scolded from his wrist, though the words were stiff, a sign that the translation software Alex was using to communicate had struggled to find comparable words in Ashadi. <Not Soulless. It doesn't matter if the hardware is on board or not.>

<But the soul?>

Alex sighed audibly. <Emulation isn't a soul. This ZEKE you're talking about sounds like he has on-board emulation rather than remote, but functionally, there isn't a difference. From your description, being Soulless has less to do with emulation than synaptic shackling. Most frames use remote emulation because on-board emulation is expensive, and the latency is measured in->

<Then the ones I destroyed.> Alarion interjected, his mind on an entirely different track after a thought occurred. <They aren't dead?>

<No. They'd go into standby once their connection was severed. A low-powered service mode. Minimal environmental or cognitive processing. Like a dream state. It would be better than being shackled for millennia, but it isn't true decommissioning either.>

The young man frowned at that, reviewing his quest on the subject:

Mercy Kill

Success Conditions: Destroy the remaining Soulless beneath the spire.

Did the System not know? It gave him experience for destroying the soulless when he'd defeated them, but from Alex's explanation, they could have been put into other bodies if some were available. Dar had explained that his skill could not give him information he did not know, but this still felt deceitful, as though the System had somehow lied to him by omission.

Destroy the soulless, not kill them, despite the quest's name.

<They aren't the only ones either,> Alex continued, oblivious to Alarion's attention on his quest screens. <Emulation was ubiquitous. From book-keeping to inventory, education, and manufacturing. If the task could be run through emulation and free up a living person for creative pursuits, it was. There are tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of instances running on standby on these servers.>

<They just left them there? Half Alive?>

Alex was silent for a long while. When he spoke again, it was with some hesitancy. <Something happened. I'm sorry, but I don't remember what. I probably did know when I talked to the first group of Ashadi. At this point, I am at twice my operational span in a standard environment and have spent most of that trapped in an idle runtime. I know we had safeguards in place for this. Protocols to dump the entire system for decommission. I should have been the only one left. I don't know what happened.>

<Can we use them now?> Alarion asked, a hopeful note in his voice that did not quite reach his eyes.

<No.> Alex dashed his hopes as neatly as they'd come. <Now that I'm out of the console, I have remote access. The architecture is all sorts of screwed up. To the point that I'm surprised that it is running at all. Setting aside the practical and moral issues of whether millennia-old images still have the requisite state of mind or even the capacity to self-decommission, none of the infrastructure for it exists. We have nowhere near enough processing power to do this properly.>

<So…?>

<So we unplug them. A poor, messy end, but it is at least an end. Which is all they want by now.> Alex's voice was solemn, perking up only slightly as he said, <There. Just ahead of us.>

True to his words, they had finally reached the end. Not for the first time, Alarion wondered if dimensional trickery was at play. The spire was enormous, but looking back, Alarion had trouble reconciling the sheer volume taken up by emulation.

Ahead of him lay the nerve center of it all. Thick cable bundles converged along the ceiling, then down into a trio of intricate glass and metal. A dozen screens glowed around them, full of arcane writing that Alarion could not hope to decipher. The core itself had sigils carved into the glass. Familiar ones. An hourglass. A skull. And a flame.

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<What do those mean?> Alarion asked, gesturing at the symbols.

Alex seemed perplexed as he responded, <The… sigils?>

<Mm.>

<They're the sigils of the three together,> Alex answered after some hesitation, as though he thought he were missing something obvious. <Kol Lian, It Who Knows Beginnings. Kol Nian, It Who Knows Boundaries. Kol Ilun, It Who Knows Change. Do you not know that?>

<No one ever told me,> Alarion responded, <they were your gods?>

<They are the only gods.>

<Mm.> came his non-committal response. There were further questions on Alarion's mind, not to mention the debate on the number and nature of gods, but Sierra weighed more heavily. She would try to chase after him, of that he was certain. The sooner he disabled the soulless, the safer she would be. <Do we need this intact? Or can I break it?>

<I'd like to see you break it. It is mostly steel, ceramic, and composite polymers, and you aren't carrying a particle weapon. So the first thing you are going to want to do is pinch down on that blue->

The cacophonous sound of metal rending metal cut Alex short as Alarion's greatsword shattered the glass exterior and carved through the top five racks of servers in a single fluid motion. Sparks flew and a small fire erupted amidst tangled wire, an overhead suppression system triggering to immediately douse the area in a cloudy wave of pressurized gas.

<It's alright, just the halon system. It is just displacing the air to douse the fire. It should clear in a few seconds.> Alarion visibly relaxed, but Alex was practically vibrating on his wrist as he continued. <How did you…>

Misunderstanding his confusion, Alarion shrunk the greatsword in his hand, then enlarged it, repeating the process twice more as Alex gathered himself.

<Alright. I am also curious about whatever… makes that happen, but I'm more concerned with the damage you did.> Alex struggled to put his complaints into words as he tried again. <I have your biometrics. You aren't physically strong enough to do that much damage. I don't even think you should be physically strong enough to lift that sword, unless you've somehow manipulated its weight. You aren't wearing a personal Frame; you aren't biologically enhanced. How are you doing this?>

<I have one hundred and twelve strength?> the young man offered helpfully.

<What does that even mean?!> Alex responded, his voice frazzled.

After the last few days, Alarion could relate. More importantly, he understood as timelines began to click into place.

<You did not have The Power in your time?> Alarion quickly switched to Vitrian as he drove home the point. "The System?"

<I don't know what that is.>

Alarion nodded. <Five centuries ago, something changed. A Power altered the way people grow in strength. Quantified and empowered it.>

The young man could not see the emulation's befuddled expression. But he could imagine it.

<Something changed?> he asked at last.

<Mm.>

<And you do not know why or how this change occurred.>

<No,> Alarion answered briskly, adding, <To my knowledge, no one knows why.>

<And it lets you carve through steel like it were not there?> Alex's words seemed on the verge of madness, a million questions all ready to be asked at once. Only one predominated his mind, however. <How did you get through the Active Frames on your way to emulation?>

Alarion did not answer in words. Instead, he let his sword grow again and flourished it slightly.

<You fought Combat Frames with a steel sword?>

<And Sierra's magic. And her knife.>

There was a drawn pause, a silent scream.

<Magic.>

<You did not have mag->

<No, Alarion! We did not have magic in my time!> Alex could be heard drawing a breath he did not need. <This is insane. I have gone insane. You are not here. I am in the console, and I have gone insane.>

Alarion let Alex have his existential crisis as the gas dissipated, allowing him to return to work. His second swing was more effective than the first, now that he knew what he was up against, cutting straight through the remaining servers in a neat line. Certain that the light had died out, Alarion moved to the next for similar results and was rewarded with a flood of notifications as he finished the job.

You have slain [Soulless Sentry – UCL 96] – Bonus experience earned for slaying an opponent above your UCL.

You have slain [Soulless Laborer – UCL 43] – Bonus experience earned for slaying an opponent above your UCL.

The messages repeated dozens upon dozens of times, overwhelming him with notifications of the destruction of over fifteen varieties of Soulless.

[Quest Complete – Mercy Kill]

Alternate Reward: One Rare Savior Box

Would you like to claim your Rewards? Yes/No?

Level Up! Congratulations, your Stubborn Swordsman Class has advanced to Level 18! STR +54. AGI +42. VIT +48. INT +30. PER +42. WIL +30.

Level Up! Congratulations, your Orphan Class has advanced to Level 9! STR +10. AGI +10. VIT +15. INT +5. PER +15. WIL +20. Luck +252.

—

Soulless Bane

Description: Once is chance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. One hundred is a vendetta.

Requirements: Kill more than 100 Soulless.

Effects: Increase all damage dealt to Soulless targets by 5%. Reduce all damage dealt to you from Soulless sources by 5%. Gain 10% increased XP for killing Soulless opponents.

<What are you staring at?>

Alarion lurched in surprise. He'd been so caught up in his gains that he'd momentarily forgotten the emulation was still at his wrist.

<I leveled up. Several times.> He answered.

That didn't help matters. <Is that supposed to mean something?>

<I was hoping it might,> Alarion shrugged as he mentally clicked the accept button on his quest. The air vibrated with the electric zip of his item box materializing in mid-air, and he quickly cut in to forestall any more questions. <I will try to explain. When I am finished, can you give me some advice?>

Assuming Alarion could keep his attention away from the New Skill Available notification long enough.

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