Die. Respawn. Repeat.
Chapter 257: Book 4: Possibility and Sacrifice

"Ethan," Ahkelios says quietly. I try to look at him, though my vision is blurry from Firmament use; I can't quite focus through it all. Not a lot of time has passed, but the strain of keeping Field of Immortality active has been increasing with every second that ticks by. "You need to stop. Let them go."

We've been able to save... some of the humans. Not all of them. There were 42 people targeted by that initial burst, and 25 of them were hit hard enough to require additional treatment. 6 of those were dead before my immortality skill took effect, which left 19 that could be saved, in theory. The skill keeps them in a state of perpetual stasis, which gives us the time we need to get them treatment.

It's a miracle we were able to get them through the portals and into the dungeon to begin with. Without Gheraa's help, we wouldn't have been—it took everything he had just to fully force open the ones to the humans that needed help. Pushing them all open was out of the question, or we might have been able to get more help dealing with the sudden influx of injuries.

Not that we've done poorly. 12 out of those 19 people have been stabilized, at least, thanks to the scirix; Yarun in particular is an incredible medic. Doctor? I'm not sure what his status is among the scirix, but regardless, I just watched him triage the patients in about three seconds with a quick flex of his Firmament.

Evidently, his days of studying and helping Adeya's team has helped him gain some familiarity with human anatomy. It's stunning how quickly he's able to identify problems and find solutions, even with a relatively limited medical kit.

He also deemed three of the remaining seven unsavable almost immediately and asked me to remove my Field of Immortality from them. That was... several minutes ago, I think.

I haven't.

I should, I'm pretty sure. It's hard to think clearly through the fog of Firmament overuse. Even with that internal engine chugging away to create new Firmament for me, I'm running low. It would be easier if I let go of the skill and focused fully on replenishing my stores.

But if I did that, seven people would die. Four that don't have to. They could be saved.

Though we've had enough time to determine by now that they could only be saved with a hospital and with facilities that Yarun doesn't have access to. The city of First Sky might have been able to save them a decade or two ago, before the Color Drain drought hit them and stole everything vital to the city.

The Empty City that remains can only help them slip more peacefully into death. The other humans are with them now, speaking quietly to them, helping gather what might be their last words for their family. I should be with them, I think, but it's taking everything I have just to maintain the skill.

"Ethan," Ahkelios says again, his tone gentle. I blink a few times, trying to shake the stray thought that's plaguing me.

If I let them go now, it's going to be my fault, isn't it? As long as I hold on, it won't be. Every one of these people had friends and family. They were stolen from their homes and put into Trials through no fault of their own.

Some of them look so young.

But keeping them alive is hurting them, too. They can feel everything that's happened to them. It's one of the reasons I haven't used this skill. Yarun's done everything he can to reduce the pain and discomfort, but ultimately...

I glance up as the scirix in question approaches me, hearing his footsteps. He's tired—there's a weariness in his eyes I hadn't noticed before, and it's a weariness that has nothing to do with the tragedy their city is facing. His mother watches on from behind, something familiar and sad in her eyes, like she knew something like this would happen.

There's surprise in her eyes, too, though. Like it was unexpected in some way. I don't know what it could be, and I don't have the bandwidth to think about it.

"Ethan," Yarun says. He places a hand on my shoulder, and I have to stop myself from instinctively shaking it off. "What you're feeling now is something every medical worker has to deal with at some point. It's part of the field. You can't save everyone."

"I know that," I say.

Knowing something is so different from feeling it, though. What I tell myself doesn't match how I feel about it. I didn't do this—the Integrators did—but I hold their lives in my hand, and letting go feels like killing them.

"I know that," I say again. Yarun looks on, sympathetic. "But it doesn't feel that way."

"Never does," Yarun says, looking away for a moment. "And everyone has a different way of dealing with it. I know people that shut themselves off so they don't have to feel this way ever again. I don't think I could do that. It frightens me even when I grieve less, because I feel like I should grieve them. Because I don't want to let the feeling that I'm responsible for them fade, even a little bit.

"But that's life, you know? Contradictions. Responsibility and blame, grief and loss; all different sides of the same coin. You can feel one, but you can't lose sight of the other. And there's always someone in the next room that needs your help."

I blink at those words, my eyes focusing slightly. "The next room," I repeat slowly. Something about those words ring a bell—

Guard.

My mind begins to sharpen. I force myself to move over to the remaining few we couldn't save; Adeya moves out of the way, giving me a nod as she does. I notice seven pieces of paper clutched in her hand. I'm not sure how she was able to talk to them at all—they look too injured to even speak, and most of them are just taking small, uneven breaths.

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Yarun's right. Keeping them alive is just torture, at this point. I take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," I say. There's a beat as I commit everything I can of them to memory.

And then I let them go.

The fog of Firmament overuse begins to fade almost immediately. I glance at Adeya and the others, their expressions all solemn; Taylor, I notice, is clutching at Adeya's hand. "We need—"

"I'll find a way to get the bodies back to their families," Adeya says. "We owe them that much."

I nod. "You three did good, there."

"Not good enough," Dhruv mutters.

"Not yet," I say, and Dhruv has nothing to say to that.

Yarun's right. We don't have time to sit here and hope we can do better. There are people waiting for our help—not only Guard, but people across the Trials that might be in the same situation, fighting through the same things.

I glance back toward the makeshift Intermediary created by the Interface and frown. The dungeon's going to move on to the next stage any second now—the Ritual stage is complete and the blowback is almost over. The moment it dissolves, the dungeon will start shifting to the next stage, and now that I'm not keeping people alive with my power, that process is beginning.

So I start cycling Firmament as rapidly as I can. Gheraa looks over at me, still pale from his own use of power. There's concern in his voice. "Ethan? What are you doing?"

"This thing can link us together," I say. It's half an answer to Gheraa and half a statement to Adeya and her team. "It was used to kill us, but I wonder..."

Adeya raises a brow. Taylor actually looks a little excited, and Dhruv mostly seems confused.

"You can go back to your Trials now, can't you?" I ask.

Adeya nods. "The option opened up as soon as we completed the Ritual stage."

"Then go back," I say. "Take the bodies with you. But spread the word."

"Spread what word, exactly?" she asks.

"There's something I need to deal with first," I say. "But let's just say I'm going to make the Integrators regret giving us exactly the tool we need to come together."

Adeya's eyes widen in understanding. A quick, whispered word between her and her friends, and they all open portals back to their own Trials, carefully carrying the bodies through; a couple of the scirix rush to help them.

As for me, I turn my attention back to the still-dissolving Intermediary. I'm already feeling better, at least Firmament-wise—now that I'm not actively running a skill, my core is beginning to refill itself, and the sheer density beginning to build up as a result of the coming stage shift is certainly helping.

Now that I'm looking, I can see the Thread of Evolution looping in a twisted spiral around the pillar of power that forms the makeshift Intermediary. It makes sense. After all, the main thing I need to complete the fourth phase shift is a massive, stabilizing dose of reality that aligns with my Truth.

I still haven't figured out what I need for that, but I do know I'm going to need something to stabilize it. What better way to do that than with a structure meant to connect worlds?

The size limitations on Soul Space are, after all, only a suggestion.

So I reach out and begin to weave, creating a pocket of Soul Space around this makeshift Intermediary.

And as I do so, a storm of Firmament begins to build around us.

Guard realized something was wrong when he blinked and found himself back in Isthanok.

Ethan had died again. Or maybe he had. He wasn't sure which, but this meant Teluwat would have a good few minutes to do whatever he wanted until Guard could get back into his lair. That wasn't good.

He blasted off as fast as he could, racing toward Palus.

Ghost was a little disoriented when he found himself demanifested and inside of Ethan's core. He almost instinctively re-manifested himself, but paused, looking toward Lilia instead.

"I have a thought," he said. Or thought, he supposed. They were sort of the same thing in this de-manifested state.

"Do you, now?" Lilia raised an eyebrow. Or sent him the feeling of raising an eyebrow. He actually wasn't sure how she did it. "Is it perhaps related to our benefactor's last death?"

"No, no. He will be fine. Probably." Ghost gathered his thoughts. "Temporal Link allows us to manifest ourselves within the range of the skill. We were traveling toward Palus as if we still had bodies, but we do not."

"You're saying we could manifest directly within Teluwat's lair," Lilia said. "That is... clever, actually. Do you have the exact coordinates?"

"I have memorized them based on the other coremind's last known position." Ghost was quite proud of this fact.

"In that case," Lilia said. "Why don't we give the King of the Swamp a nice surprise?"

Versa was cursing herself even before she started heading toward Palus. She knew the risks of going near Teluwat, and she had absolutely no desire to get involved in any fight that had to do with him. The last time that had happened she had ended up with concrete blocks for legs! According to her notes, anyway. She could only imagine how unpleasant that had been for those past versions of her, and was inwardly thankful that Ethan had apparently cured it.

On the other hand, Ethan had apparently cured it. The notes she'd left for herself were encoded for emphasis with a specific cipher she almost never used; it was specifically meant for conveying the idea of "do not betray this person under any circumstance or I will find a way to get into the future so I can kick your ass."

So. That was encouraging. Apparently Ethan had made an impression on her.

Of course, now she had to figure out what to do with the information she had. Teluwat had sent them all a message only moments ago. Fifteen words.

"I'm going to kill that fucking kid, and I want you all here to watch."

Which was, first of all, a weird message to send to your colleagues-slash-coworkers. Versa was pretty sure most of Hestia's Trialgoers would just ignore it. They had bigger problems, anyway, considering everything they were discussing.

Second? Versa had notes on that kid. A silverwisp adopted by Teluwat of all people, who looked remarkably similar to She-Who-Whispers? It didn't take a genius to connect the dots.

That meant that this was something that Ethan would probably care about, and that meant...

She sighed, and made herself move even faster.

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