Ascent 9.7

2005, August 21: Phoenix, AZ, USA

I stood in the kitchen and looked around in disappointment. No, Riley and Lulu hadn’t gotten it into their heads to surprise me and mom with breakfast. The clutter was almost as bad though. It looked like Martha Stewart got higher than Everest and decided to teach Snoop Dogg how to cook every cookie recipe she had.

On the plus side, I had a surplus of cookies, enough to supply an entire bakery on my own. I had half a dozen varieties, from macarons and canele to regular chocolate chip cookies, all baked to crispy, chewy perfection.

On the downside, I was no closer to making magic biscuits. No, that wasn’t quite right. Baking potions into food wasn’t especially difficult thanks to the World Rune. What was, was making a Biscuit of Everlasting Will. I’d yet to figure out how to make one of those precious treats and the number of people who wanted one was growing.

Fortuna needed hers, of course. Having the internal mana reserves necessary to use my artifacts was vitally important to Cauldron’s operations. Even if it wasn’t, she’d drop an eighty page report on my desk to convince me otherwise through sheer annoyance if nothing else.

Mom, after getting just enough magic to activate her emergency rings, gave hers to Riley so that I could slowly teach my sister to be a proper magical girl.

And… And I really liked mine. My conjured biscuit changed flavor each day to whatever I craved most. Oftentimes, the taste was something I myself hadn’t realized I’d wanted. The last one I had turned out to be a snickerdoodle with a hint of candied ginger to go with my oolong tea, an odd combination, but one I’d added to my list of favorites.

This wouldn’t have been a problem had it not been for my sister. A few days ago, Riley did the unthinkable: She shared half of her biscuit with Lulu. I should have expected it. She was a good girl and good girls shared. It was such a pure, simple line of logic, that her best friend might also enjoy a magically perfect cookie.

Unfortunately, from that purity came my latest headache. Lulu was hooked on the mana-rich treat. It was, in her words, “purple and swirly-flavored with a touch of cosmic stardust,” whatever the hell that meant.

I would have had Riley take responsibility, but she needed the mana. So if I didn’t want to drown in the yordle’s tears and potentially risk a pouty polymorph, I had to give up my daily cookie. I hadn’t been able to indulge in my own rune’s bounty in days. I was going through withdrawal.

Truly, this was to be the first great test of a big brother’s love.

“It’s tasty, but not as good as the magic cookie,” Lulu said as she nibbled on a yakgwa, a traditional Korean honey cookie that was fried instead of baked. I was experimenting and topped that batch with candied yuzu peels, allowing for the hit of citrus to cut through the grease.

“Well, I’m sorry, Lulu, but you can’t have the magic cookie today. Fortuna needs one for her job. Riley needs one because her magic is still growing. And I want my share.”

“B-But… Andy…” she whined pitifully. It was a dangerous thing.

I wasn’t imagining things. Lulu’s magic made her eyes seem bigger, rounder, and more soulful. The light caught her unshed tears like glistening jewels. She wasn’t just cute, she literally polymorphed herself to be as heart-stoppingly adorable as possible.

The funny part was that her magic reacted to her emotions. I wasn’t even sure she was doing it on purpose. And before that impossible assault, I caved like a house of cards.

“Pathetic,” Wolyo growled judgingly. “Assert dominance over the tiny squirrel-maker.”

‘And how do you think I should do that?’ I asked dryly. Really, fighting Leviathan was easier than resisting Lulu’s pouting.

‘Bite her. Nibble on her ear. That’ll scold her.’

‘Lulu isn’t an unruly puppy.’

‘Are you sure?’

I looked at her. Her lower lip quivered imploringly. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. Her ears, fuzzy and pointed like a cat’s, twitched and rustled her violet hair. ‘Okay, so she’s a little like a puppy…’

‘So assert dominance. Make her earn her reward.’

‘And what should I make her do?’

‘Make me interesting squirrels to hunt. Her talents are clearly being wasted as she is.’

I choked down a laugh at that. Sometimes, it was really hard to tell where the line between metaphor and reality was when it came to the Kindred. They were the “Lamb and Wolf,” but perhaps in a more literal way than I’d first assumed.

Then again, Lilia was born of the God Willow, and therefore technically a tree. If the deer-taur could be closer to a shrub than a human, then I supposed the Wolf could have a few canine inclinations.

“Alright, fine, fuck it,” I grumbled.

“Yes! Cookie!” Lulu cheered. Her delight turned to surprise when I picked her up by her armpits. She was tiny, not even three feet tall. It felt almost like playing with a big Cabbage Patch doll. “Woah, what are yo–Ouch! Did you just bite me?”

I nibbled on the tip of her ear for a moment longer before letting go. “Yup.”

She clutched her ears protectively. Her eyes glistened with tears of betrayal. “Why? That hurts, meanie.”

“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to taste purple?”

“Now you’re making fun of me,” she glared.

“Maybe,” I grinned. I pulled her into a hug and settled her on my lap. “Wolyo, the Wolf, said I should bite your ear because you’re acting like a misbehaving puppy.”

“I am not.”

“You are. It’s cute.”

“That hurt. You owe me compensation.”

“Oh? Do I now? And the price is naturally one magic cookie, hmm?” I said with a knowing smile.

“Yup! Gimmie!” she demanded, holding out her hand with all the assuredness only a child, or a yordle, could have.

Then, I had an idea. It was an evil idea. One could argue that this would be cruel and unusual punishment, that I would be violating the laws of human decency should I go through with this plan.

Then again, it sounded funny. And, as both mom and Fortuna knew well enough by now, I’d never been good at ignoring my intrusive thoughts.

“How about this, Lulu? Everyone who eats the cookies needs to try their hardest. Do you remember how I said we’re heroes?”

“Uh-huh. You go around stopping bad humans from hurting other humans,” she said. It was a somewhat simplistic description, but a largely accurate one. She saw the occupation of “hero” as it was, a job, without the cultural connotations and glamor.

“Yeah, that’s right,” I confirmed. “Well, these magic cookies help people who eat them do their jobs better. Riley learns more about magic by eating my cookies. Fortuna, the other woman who gets a cookie, is busy keeping everyone safe. And of course, I’m also a hero.”

Her nose scrunched up cutely in concentration. “So… If I want your cookie, I need to be a hero?”

“Yup. You can even think of it like a game. If you arrest five Nazis, I’ll give you one cookie,” I promised her. “A Nazi is a very bad person who likes to hurt other people.”

“How do you arrest someone?”

“You stop them from hurting other people and keep them somewhere safe without hurting them. You can take them to the local Protectorate office. I’ll show you where that is.”

Her face lit up in understanding. “Oh! So it’s like freeze tag!”

“Exactly. If you can tag five Nazis, I’ll give you one cookie.”

“But… How am I supposed to find a Nazi?”

“Door, Brockton Bay,” I said. Doormaker obliged, opening a Doorway far above the city skyline. This officially made him and Clairvoyant my accomplices in my grand prank on Earth-Bet. “See this city? It’s a place called Brockton Bay. There are a ton of Nazis here. You’ll only have to play tag within this city.”

“Ooh, okay, that sounds like it could be fun.”

“Right? Now, see that bubble out on the water?”

“Yeah! Is that where the Nazis are?”

“No, that’s where the Protectorate is. They’re other heroes.”

“Like you?”

“Ehh… No, not really like me. But the important thing is that you can take the Nazis there. Remember, you have to make sure they don’t hurt anyone, and that they aren’t hurt, either.”

“That’s easy. Now… How do I find a Nazi?”

“Well, that sounds like a job for Detective Lulu, doesn’t it?” I said with a devious smile. “When you want to come back to my lab, just say, ‘Door, Hyunmu’s Lab,’ okay?”

“Yeah! Let’s go, Pix!” she cried, laughing as she tossed herself through the portal. “Detective Lulu is on the case!”

I savored my last biscuit for the day. It tasted like a crumbly butter cookie with lemon zest mixed inside. It also carried with it notes of bittersweet regret and cosmic irony. “I'm going to hell for this…”

‘You are a spirit god of death now,’ Farya reminded me. ‘You will likely never experience an afterlife, positive or negative.’

‘Oh, yeah. Lucky me.’

X

Colin Wallis

I entered my lab for the day and immediately sensed that something was off. The culprit was easy to spot. There was a cardboard box on my workbench with a note taped on top.

Strange, though I’d only recently come into my role as Protectorate Leader, people knew to put my mail in its proper inbox. After several scans, I determined that the package was safe. I opened it to find a high quality bottle of scotch.

The note read:

Halbeard,

I’m sorry. I’m a terrible human being. Sometimes, I can’t help myself. I let the intrusive thoughts win.

Just… Just sit back and enjoy the chaos. And remember, if a little girl gives you a bucket full of radishes, squirrels, or any other odd collection of small objects, they are not food.

Sincerely,

Yusung

PS: Congratulations on your promotion. You deserve it.

PPS: I know you’re not the drinking type, but you’re going to want this bottle soon.

I blinked in confusion. I was aware that Yusung had awakened of course, and I expected him to get in touch eventually, but not like this. He wasn’t usually the type for cryptic messages, and I considered him an upstanding young man, far from a “terrible human being.”

“I do not understand…”

X

Andy Yusung Kim
2005, August 21: Cauldron Base, Ivory Coast

“You sent your magic fairy to Brockton Bay,” Kurt repeated for the third time tonight. Our sociopathic mass murderer turned mild-mannered accountant looked rather befuddled by my newest plan.

“She’s a yordle, not a fairy. Pix is the fairy. And yes. Don’t worry, she’ll be just fine,” I reassured him. “She’s plenty strong.”

“It’s not her I’m worried about, Andy. What if she turns people into squirrels?”

“They’ll turn back by dusk or dawn, whichever is closer. I thought we covered this. Besides, I told her to go look for Nazis. She won’t go out of her way to cause a mess or anything. Lulu’s a good girl.”

“Andy… You also said she’s chaos incarnate. And since when do you care about Brockton Bay?”

“Well, I was reading our most recent financial statement the other day and I noticed that though my potions are federally subsidized products, we still have contracted distributors.”

“Yes. Even we need boots on the ground to make sure those potions get where they’re supposed to go.”

“Sure, but one of those distributors is Medhall, the Nazi front. And I found out that I’m making them a fair amount of money,” I said, shooting him an accusatory glare. “Mind telling me why we’ve been funding them for years?”

“We aren’t funding them. They’re putting work to provide a service. Medhall is a net positive to the New England area. Would you like the numbers?” Kurt said, taking a calm sip of his tea. “When our enterprise first got off the ground, I was busy working to integrate the pharmaceutical industry with Cauldron’s broader network. And then, Last Christmas happened, the effects of which we are still feeling today. I had more pressing concerns.”

“Okay, fair enough, but do we need Medhall now? We can replace them with a competitor or something, right?”

“We have much more breathing room. There were multiple bounties from the death of Leviathan that we can funnel into the creation of another proxy as well. It will take several months of restructuring even with my direct involvement.”

“I figured you’d say something like that. In the meantime, I’m going to give Max Anders a phobia of squirrels. And the color purple.”

“Very well, Andy. And what will you tell the rest of our friends?”

“That since Project Terminus is defunct, I’m claiming Brockton Bay for my experiment.”

“Sending in the incarnation of chaos and glitter is hardly a scientific experiment,” he replied dryly.

“And Terminus was? At least I am introducing a singular variable into a closed system. Or, as closed as a city can be anyway,” I pointed out. “I’m following the scientific method more closely than you guys ever did.”

“Point.”

X

2005, August 27: Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

Training was progressing more smoothly. It wasn’t easy, but it felt as though a mental block had been lifted. Leviathan’s demise, and the part I’d played in it, had helped me firm my resolve and more closely put to words the relationship I wanted with Death.

Maybe that was all it took: I was a spirit god; I was influenced by faith. But if that was true, wouldn’t my own faith, my own understanding of my domains, be the greatest influence of all?

I cut off the line of mana that fed into my eyes. First one then the other, the two crystals dimmed and my world became darkness. I no longer saw the salt flats or the earth beneath me. The breeze that swept through my hair and the briny smell of saltwater were my only company.

Carefully, I slipped the Mask on my face once more. I steeled myself with the efforts of long practice for the explosion I knew was coming.

My world expanded like the Big Bang. Every soul in the world burst into the blackness like uncountable little stars. They were all here, big and small, from the mightiest whales to the smallest microbe. Across the world in Ukraine, I could sense the brilliant lights that were Lordsmith, Babylon, and Peter Pan’s Neverland. The cluster of stars in the Ivory Coast must have been the rest of Cauldron.

It was beautiful yet haunting, like a silent vigil of innumerable candles. Billions of lights flickered out even as billions more ignited for the first time. I felt as though I could watch this eternal cycle forever.

It was also humbling in a way nothing else could be. I told the Kindred that I wanted to bear witness, to remember humanity in all its glories and tragedies.

Naturally, to bear witness as Death was to bear witness to Life. I saw the brutal, primal fear of an animal being hunted. I saw the tranquility of the trees. I saw the loneliness of the ocean depths. All of it was laid bare before me and it was only through painstaking care that I did not lose myself to this eternal vigil.

‘Life is beautiful,’ I whispered in my own mind. Even in the privacy of my soul, to voice these words almost felt like sacrilege, like I was disturbing a profound and holy silence.

‘It is. It is pain. It is pleasure. It is the joy of the hunt and the desperate relief of survival,’ Farya said gently, her tone at odds with our brutal task. ‘Yet our task remains the same.’

‘There is no reason our guidance can’t be gentler, is there?’

‘It matters not to us, Yusung. Death is one aspect of Life, but we also stand apart from Life.’

‘Their struggles mean nothing,’ Wolyo added, his voice always accompanied by the undercurrent of a growl. ‘Only the Hunt matters.’

‘I don’t believe that. For that matter, I don’t think you believe that either,’ I said softly. ‘Once upon a time, One became Two. If Life’s troubles meant nothing, you would never have swung that ax, my friend.’

‘... Perhaps…’

I took that as the admission that it was. They were proof positive that loneliness followed sentience, no matter the stripe. I had a sneaking suspicion that, had they truly been content as a pair, they would not have answered when I first reached out with the Mask. A contract required two parties, after all.

Maybe, the boogeymen of Runeterra saw in me the chance for a greater connection with the living. Or maybe, our connection was changing them as it was changing me, reminding them of what the Gray Man once desired so earnestly.

I stood. I drew Isolde from a belt loop and spun it around on my finger. It expanded with each revolution until it was as large as a greatsword. My eyes were still shut. I relied on the vista of stars around me to light my way as I moved through the familiar forms of my composite martial art.

When I woke up, just putting on the Mask felt overwhelming. The new connection I shared with the Kindred had been blinding to me, a glimpse into the spiritual that a mortal was never meant to see. Now, as I allowed myself to grow accustomed to this added perception, I finally felt like I was making progress.

X

Project: Gamera was officially complete. Eugene, Andrew, and I had taken the oversized turtle out of Babylon. With a bit of help from Doormaker, we were back in my favored testing ground, the Sahara Desert. Judging by the bits of plastic I could see scattered throughout my visual range, it was even the exact same place where so many Lilies gave their squeaky, little lives in the name of progress.

We looked up at the turtle, our glorious titan of magical metal and petricite alloy. It was an odd feeling. I knew that the Kindred was far more powerful than any mech could ever hope to be, but there was a deep and profound sense of pride that I could not shake.

The two shoulder-mounted cannons that made it look a bit like a blastoise were the last things to get completed. Rather than a scaled up version of Jhin’s coilgun, Eugene asked me if he could try out a few designs for the Sting. Naturally, I agreed. Short of letting my inner furry run wild, even I had nothing that could contest Eugene’s bullshit Shard.

Our biggest challenge in merging our tech together was the astronomical energy cost attached to his weapons. Eugene spent a not inconsiderable chunk of his earnings on Gundam figurines; it wasn’t that Eugene had never considered a mech before, it was that he couldn’t build one though he wanted to.

His Stilling was a beam that could not only deconstruct matter, but also reach across multiple attached dimensions to do the same to the target’s dimensional parallels. Something like that was always going to be energy-intensive; there just was no getting around it.

The lance-like beam that he used to snipe Leviathan from outside my ice field was already pushing it. It was fired from a floating platform that was as large as a phone booth, and that was after Armsmaster gave his input.

Granted, the mech’s power source was the Runeterran equivalent of an Infinity Stone, but the problem wasn’t the battery; it was the circuits channeling that energy. Nothing, not even Dr. Heimerdinger’s finest, could withstand the bullshit amount of mana as it got converted to electricity for more than a shot or two.

If we wanted his tech on Gamera, we needed the larger model. Technically, the personal variant he used could also pierce an endbringer’s core, but its range wasn’t good enough and an endbringer would regenerate its innermost layers faster than Hero could recharge.

Our solution was to essentially have a set of batteries located in the shoulder-mounted cannons. That way, they could be charged gradually to avoid frying the circuits. They also allowed for partially charged, weaker blasts, inasmuch as any Stilling laser could be considered “weak.”

“It’s beautiful,” Eugene said with a watery smile.

“Really, it is,” Andrew said, actually wiping a tear from his eye. The grown-ass man was weeping like a toddler. “I’m so glad I got to contribute to this…”

“A-Are you two crying?” I asked in disbelief.

“It’s a man’s romance, Andy. You don’t understand,” Eugene sniffed.

“Oi! I am a man!”

“Then you should understand!”

“Ugh, whatever. Theresa, are you in there?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, her voice echoing from the turtle’s head. Even she sounded bewildered at seeing the foremost tinker in the world shedding tears of joy alongside her father.

The head had been remodeled somewhat. It now sported a slightly wider profile to its jaw, as well as a set of two-pronged ram horns for smacking into things. The increased jaw size allowed for a larger runic matrix where its tongue should be, from which Dragon could fire an overpowered Smite.

I spent days working on that single runestone. Since the mana did not need to be converted into a conventional form of energy, it could be fired without any of the associated drop in efficiency. The result was an explosive Smite that could be used to obliterate a city block. Its intended purpose was mostly to keep an endbringer away from the mech while its shields recharged, should that ever become necessary.

“Then we’re ready for testing,” I said.

“Are you sure? I think those two need another moment.”

“Leave them. It’ll be funnier this wa–”

“Don’t you dare, Andy,” Eugene snapped. “Ahem, sorry, Theresa. We’re okay now.”

“Dweebs.”

“You built this.”

“Yeah, and you don’t see me crying a river over it. Whenever you’re ready, Theresa.”

We thoroughly tested Gamera’s functions. According to Theresa’s feedback, moving the mobile fortress was fairly intuitive. The mech could walk and fly, but it wasn’t like the pilot had to individually control each leg. Andrew’s VIs were great for repetitive tasks like that.

The head and shoulder cannons had a targeting suite so that wasn’t an issue either. With a range of over a thousand yards, Eugene’s shoulder cannons could hopefully be charged and fired multiple times before Behemoth could get in range.

However, controlling the dozens of drones once they were in the air was incredibly difficult. Theresa said that there were simply too many moving parts for a normal human, save perhaps myself or Eugene, to keep track of.

Or, she said that to ensure she kept her status as Gamera’s principal pilot. The way our AI friend stuttered had me second guessing her “professional opinion” a bit.

I laughed; as if I’d take the mech from her. It would feel a bit too much like stealing candy from a baby. 

Author’s Note

And so, Lulu’s adventures in Earth-Bet proper begin. Yes, Andy was intentionally vague about what a “Nazi” actually is. As far as Lulu is concerned, a Nazi is a form of currency.

1 cookie = 5 Nazis

This chapter did not advance the plot in any measurable way. It was completely meaningless, but the idea of Detective Lulu’s Adventures in Brockton Bay wouldn’t leave my mind. And like Andy, I’ve never been good at resisting my intrusive thoughts.

Animal Fact: Hippos have self-sharpening teeth. Their incisors (8) and canines (4) are the big teeth you see in photos. Like a rodent’s, these teeth never stop growing. They stay a manageable length by grinding against each other as the hippo grazes. This process also sharpens them for defensive use.

Zoos will sometimes trim a hippo’s tusks. This process is painless and a bit like cutting your nails, but with more risk of grievous bodily harm. If you’re looking for people with testicular bowling balls, there you go.

Thank you to everyone who paid for my groceries. I have a and Kofi with dozens of chapters written across my various stories. If you’d like to read ahead, receive more frequent updates, vote in monthly polls or even commission a chapter directly, check them out.

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