Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 80: THE BOARD AND PIECES

Chapter 80: THE BOARD AND PIECES

Power surged through Reed’s crystalline body as the ninth fragment resonated within him, sending shockwaves across dimensional planes. The Watcher’s perfect form distorted momentarily, its symmetrical features fracturing along impossible angles as it recoiled from the unexpected energy signature.

"ANOMALOUS VARIABLE DETECTED," the entity communicated, its voice embedding itself painfully in their consciousness. "CONTAINMENT PROTOCOLS INSUFFICIENT."

Seizing the momentary disruption, Reed channeled the fragment’s power through his transformed flesh. Crystalline formations erupted from his body, spread across the conceptual space, and formed a translucent barrier between the expedition and the Watcher. The barrier shimmered with fractal patterns that defied euclidean geometry, creating a pocket dimension—a temporary sanctuary folded between the layers of reality itself.

"Move!" Reed commanded, blood streaming from his remaining human eye as the strain of manipulating fundamental forces threatened to tear him apart from within. "I can’t maintain this for long."

The expedition members pushed forward through the crystalline membrane, their bodies phasing through matter that simultaneously existed and didn’t exist. The Watcher’s attack slammed against the barrier, sending cracks propagating through its structure like lightning across a midnight sky.

Once everyone had passed through, Reed followed, his consciousness stretched between maintaining the barrier and preserving his fragmenting identity. As he crossed the threshold, he collapsed the crystalline construct behind them, sealing off their pocket dimension from direct assault.

They found themselves in a space unlike anything encountered before—not the chaotic environment of the Watchers’ realm, nor the structured reality of their homeworld. This interstitial fold existed as pure information architecture, a repository of data given spatial form.

"What is this place?" Valerian asked, his transparent organs pulsing with anticipation as they adjusted to the new environment.

"A backup system," Reed replied, his voice resonating with metallic harmonics as crystalline structures throughout his body realigned. "The fragments within me... they contain access protocols to the Watchers’ archives."

Surrounding them were countless holographic displays—though "holographic" was an inadequate term for projections that existed as conceptual rather than light-based manifestations. Each display showed what appeared to be different worlds, various iterations of reality playing out according to subtly different parameters.

"Game boards," Lysander whispered, his multiple eyes blinking asynchronously as they struggled to process the overwhelming influx of information. "Each one a separate experimental reality."

Elysia moved toward one of the displays, her externalized blood orbiting her body in agitated spirals. "This one... it’s our world, but different."

The display showed a familiar continent—the lands of the Seven Kingdoms—but with crucial differences. Cities stood where wastelands existed in their reality. Mountains rose where plains stretched in their memory.

"Not different," Krev corrected, his shadowy form flickering as he shifted between the displays. "Earlier. Previous iterations."

As they explored the dimensional archive, they discovered hundreds of variations—each representing a different attempt by the Watchers to create a stable experimental environment. Some displays showed thriving civilizations that had advanced far beyond their own world’s technological level. Others depicted apocalyptic wastelands, the results of civilizations that had destroyed themselves through war, magic, or dimensional tampering.

"They’ve been running the experiment for millennia," Reed observed, interfacing directly with the information streams through his crystalline components. "Resetting and adjusting variables each time the results deviate too far from their parameters."

One display caught Shia’s attention—her liquid form condensing as she focused on the images. "This one... it’s the fall of Aetheria."

The display showed the kingdom’s destruction in excruciating detail—the dimensional collapse that had consumed the capital city, the unleashing of chaotic energies as reality itself unraveled. But what shocked them most was seeing themselves—or rather, previous versions of themselves—fighting desperately against forces beyond comprehension.

"We’ve done this before," Valerian stated, the horror of recognition visible through his transparent flesh. "Many times."

Reed accessed deeper layers of the archive, his consciousness expanding beyond the limitations of physical form. "The artifacts... they were never meant to be weapons or tools of power."

The truth revealed itself in streams of pure information: the eight fragments—and the ninth embedded within Reed—were intervention mechanisms designed by the Watchers to guide the development of their experimental subjects. Each fragment influenced reality in subtle ways, nudging civilizations toward predetermined outcomes.

"Control variables," Lysander murmured, his scientific mind grasping the implications. "Designed to reset development patterns when experiments veer off course."

Further exploration revealed more disturbing truths. One display showed the creation of entities that had become legendary figures in their world’s mythology—The Unmaker and The Lightbringer, opposing forces that had shaped the course of history through countless conflicts.

"They’re constructs," Reed explained, his voice hollow with the realization. "Artificial entities created to test our adaptability and response to existential threats."

"Everything we believed was sacred or divine..." Elysia whispered, her blood forming patterns of distress around her body.

"Experimental parameters," Krev finished, his shadowy substance darkening with anger.

Shia moved between the displays, her liquid form rippling with increasing agitation. "Something’s wrong. This display... it shows inconsistencies in the current experiment."

The display she indicated showed their timeline, but with anomalous energy signatures throughout—concentrations of power that deviated from the Watchers’ carefully calculated predictions.

"That’s you," Reed said, studying the patterns with his crystalline eye. "Your transformation wasn’t planned. Your evolution into a liquid-energy state was an unintended consequence of exposure to the fragments."

The implications struck them all at once—Shia represented a true variable, an outcome the Watchers hadn’t anticipated or designed.

"I’m an error in their system," she said, her liquid form briefly taking on a more human shape as she processed this revelation. "A deviation from their experimental parameters."

"Not an error," Reed corrected, something like hope resonating in his metallic voice. "Proof that their control isn’t absolute. That free will exists even within their constructed reality."

Their exploration was interrupted by a sudden fluctuation in the pocket dimension’s stability. The boundaries of their sanctuary trembled, reality itself shuddering under external pressure.

"They’ve found us," Valerian warned, his transparent organs pulsing with alarm.

Through the thinning barriers of their dimensional fold, they glimpsed monstrous entities moving through the information architecture—not the geometric servants they had encountered before, but something far more terrifying. These were specialized constructs, predatory algorithms given physical form, designed specifically for hunting and eliminating anomalies within the system.

"Enforcers," Reed named them, knowledge flowing into him through his connection with the ninth fragment. "They exist to purge corrupted data from the experimental framework."

"And we’re the corruption," Elysia said, her blood forming defensive patterns in anticipation of conflict.

The Enforcers moved with terrible purpose, their forms shifting between states of matter and energy as they methodically searched the information space. They resembled hounds fashioned from liquid obsidian and writhing code, their multiple heads constantly reconfiguring to process different layers of reality simultaneously.

"We need to move deeper," Reed urged, his crystalline structures scanning the dimensional fold for escape routes. "This sanctuary won’t hold against dedicated hunters."

"To where?" Lysander asked, his multiple eyes darting nervously between the approaching Enforcers and the unstable boundaries of their pocket dimension. "We’re trapped between conceptual spaces."

Reed interfaced once more with the information streams, searching desperately for a solution. Through his connection with the ninth fragment, he perceived a possibility—a pathway leading to a kernel of pure reality, uncorrupted by the Watchers’ manipulations.

"There," he said, indicating a direction that existed more as mathematical concept than physical vector. "A dimensional recursion point—a place where the experiment loops back on itself. We can establish a more permanent base there, outside their immediate perception."

"We’ll need to move quickly and simultaneously," Shia added, her liquid consciousness extending tendrils to map the conceptual terrain ahead. "Any separation will make us vulnerable to the Enforcers’ tracking algorithms."

As the expedition prepared to move, Reed made one final interface with the archival system, downloading crucial information about the nature of their reality and the Watchers’ ultimate purpose. What he discovered sent cold horror through his partially mechanical heart.

"This isn’t just an experiment," he told the others, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s a breeding program. They’re cultivating specific traits across generations, guiding our evolution toward some predetermined form."

"To what end?" Valerian asked, his transparent features contorted with disgust.

Before Reed could answer, the dimensional fold shuddered violently. The Enforcers had begun their assault on the pocket dimension’s boundaries, their obsidian forms phasing partially through the weakening barriers.

"Move now!" Reed commanded, channeling power through the ninth fragment to open a pathway along the recursion point he had identified.

Reality split before them, revealing a tunnel of pure conceptual meaning leading deeper into the system’s architecture. One by one they entered, their forms adapting to the new dimensional parameters as they traversed the impossible space.

Reed went last, maintaining the opening against the Enforcers’ onslaught. As he prepared to follow his companions, one of the hunting constructs breached the barrier, its multiple obsidian heads lunging toward him with predatory precision.

With a final surge of power, Reed collapsed the entrance behind him as he leapt into the conceptual tunnel. The Enforcer’s attack missed him by measurements too small for human comprehension, its obsidian teeth closing on empty dimensional space.

The expedition emerged into a realm of perfect stillness—a recursive loop where information circled back upon itself, creating a blind spot in the Watchers’ observational network. Here, amidst currents of raw data and unfulfilled potential, they established their temporary base.

"We’re safe, for now," Reed said, his crystalline components reconfiguring to interface with this new environment. "But they’ll find us eventually. We need to plan our next move."

As the others recovered from the dimensional transition, Reed processed the information he had extracted from the archives. The final piece clicked into place, revealing the Watchers’ ultimate purpose—and with it, a devastating truth about his own existence.

The crystalline structures throughout his body pulsed with revelation, catching Shia’s attention. Her liquid form moved closer, sensing his distress.

"Reed? What did you discover?"

He turned to her, his half-human face contorted with horror and revelation.

"The ninth fragment isn’t just inside me," he whispered. "I am the ninth fragment. I was created by them—designed as the final control mechanism in their experiment."

The implications hung in the still air of their dimensional refuge, as the expedition members struggled to process what this meant for their survival—and for the reality they had left behind.