Though we had wandered aimlessly to find Armistice, this time we were being led directly to our quarry. Maeve and I heard nearly inaudible whispers the moment we passed through the gates, and the farther away from Armistice we travelled the louder they became. We both agreed it was so close to actual speech as to be maddening, but neither of us could discern any message. Even the others were struggling mentally - this place seemed to be seeping into our minds, taking hold of our deepest fears and convincing us that they would become reality.

Zyturak was straining to keep our minds safe this deep in the Scar - it got to the point that he was afraid to rest anymore, convinced that we would be at our unseen foe’s mercy. Knowing how close we were to our goal, however, none of us would have been able to sleep anyway.

When the incessant whispers stopped at last we saw before us an infinite, pulsing, fleshy wall that could only be Bedlam’s border. Leaning against that nauseating barrier was an incredibly tall, asymmetrical man buried under layers and layers of filthy bandages and rags which covered nearly all of his lopsided features. He was entirely at ease with our intrusion.

???: “Ahh, at long last. Welcome to where it all began...”

His wheezing voice was sandpaper in our ears, simultaneously baritone and falsetto as the words fell out of him as if to get away. I tried reading his aura, but could discern nothing. There was only one person this could be, but I wanted to hear it for myself.

Seth: “The mounting casualties in Arden as a result of carefully sown political tension, the loss of agency suffered by the people, the near deicide of Yreth… do you admit to all of it?”

The Architect: “They are the architects of their own destruction. I merely reminded them of the elements of human nature that they were taught to fear. Ambition. Greed. Jealousy. No matter how hard Yreth tried, It could never stamp these traits out of Its precious children. I added nothing to their minds that was not already there and in truth touched very little. And yet how easily Yreth’s society crumbles! How soon they forget their maker! Yreth no longer has the strength to halt the Ardenscar’s growing influence. I need only wait for Bedlam to reach out and take your world for Its next plaything.”

Maeve: “Okay, I’ve heard enough. This is definitely our psycho, let’s end this!”

In a burst of speed Wolfgang lunged for The Architect. Xenna conjured her aether orb, Maeve sprouted her tendrils, Zyturak centered himself, and I held The Nail behind my back.

As we charged The Architect, he laughed. That hollow sound echoed endlessly as Wolfgang’s dragonbone claws shattered themselves against his skin. Xenna’s aether orb was pulled into him and absorbed entirely. His mere gaze sent Zyturak into a trance. Maeve was restrained by tendrils of his own faster than she could react, brutally ripping both of hers out in the process. Then he turned his sights on me.

In the confusion, however, I had closed the distance between us and plunged The Nail right into his chest. He looked down at me, eyes widening as it tore right through him…

...but it didn’t stop. The Architect’s body hungrily consumed The Nail, adding it to its uneven mass. I stumbled back in fear. What… what was he!?  It should have worked! It should have-

The Architect: “That was an excellent idea - because it was mine. Can’t you see? Everything that has happened only came to pass because I planned it that way. The tomes in your library? Curated by me. The whispers your little cultist friend heard? Voiced by me. The artifacts you thought to journey for? Handpicked by me.”

I had no words. I just shook my head childishly as I backed away in disbelief.

The Architect: “Yreth stayed in that weak human form for so long that It lost all Its power, relying entirely on the faith of Its children for strength. It couldn't even control the broken remnants of Itself that It had cast off and forced into servitude anymore, so they swarmed you like insects... And now the chaos of my wars on Arden will be enough to finish It off for good. I must admit though, I didn’t expect Yreth to send Its priest a vision on the same day I sent mine! But in the end you foolishly chose to follow my misguided cultist instead, so it was of no consequence… Truly a fitting last attempt by humanity’s feeble ‘god’.”

His smile was disgusting.

The Architect: “This piece of Yreth’s original body that you so kindly delivered was severed during Its struggle against the wayward Denizens that followed It out of the Ardenscar all those years ago, but even vestigial as it was it still bore more power than that sorry body Yreth bears now. The Nail’s mere existence was enough to allow Yreth strength enough to hold me in check, but now...”

The Architect patted his new scar.

The Architect: “I have no limits. And when I’ve finished with you, the walls of Bedlam will crumble, unleashing Its beautiful madness into Yreth’s nauseating world at long last!” 

I quickly glanced at each of my friends. No longer able to manipulate aether, Xenna was hyperventilating. Wolfgang’s dragonbone claws were shattered along with his connection to Arden, and it was all he could do to support Xenna on his own unsteady legs. Zyturak stared blankly ahead, entranced. If he were cognizant at all, his every effort must have been spent keeping our minds out of The Architect’s control. Maeve had been struggling tirelessly against The Architect’s inhuman grip, but he seemed to know just the right amount of pressure to use to keep her from going inside out.

I had hoped against hope that one of them had been feigning weakness, simply waiting for the right moment to strike. But there was nothing left to fall back on anymore. It was now or never - and I was going to bet everything on a hunch.

In a single motion I unholstered Maeve’s gift to me, the Cenotaph weapon, and fired without hesitation. A beam of the darkest void ripped through The Architect, cutting a sizable hole through his chest and forcing him violently to his knees. I felt some intangible part of myself leave through the barrel, but as I watched the blood pour from his wound, I couldn’t have cared less. 

And then his hollow laugh echoed again. Suddenly feeling very weak, I fell backwards and couldn’t move.

The Architect: “I can’t believe how easy you’re making this for me. You fired a Cenotaph weapon? A death sentence for a human.”

Seth: “...but I’m not human.”

The Architect: “Figured it out, did you? I expect no less from my own flesh and blood. Since you’re Cenotaph, you just paid for that ammunition with some of your soul. Pretty jarring, the first time.”

I tried to connect this… thing with my hazy vision of the dad who abandoned me. It didn’t seem possible, but somehow it felt right.

Seth: “...you’re my… father…?”

The Architect: “No. It’s true that I sired you, but your whole life has only ever been in the service of a single purpose. You are not my son - merely a piece of my former glory, waiting to be returned to me. Together we can finally, finally return to Bedlam, where we were always meant to be.”

Seth: “What...?”

The Architect threw Maeve a terrible distance away and started walking towards me. Xenna and Wolfgang tried valiantly to hold him back, but for the effect it had they may as well have not even been there.

The Architect: “There’s no point in explaining it to you. We will be one soon, after all...”

I could hear Maeve’s voice echoing with feral warning as she jumped to her feet.

Maeve: “Don’t you dare touch him!”

She sprinted towards us, but The Architect was already lifting me up. He ripped The Key and The Anchor off of me, throwing them carelessly aside, and his bandages fell away as his lumpy flesh shuddered in anticipation. I couldn’t even struggle.

Then, my father embraced me for the first time. I was so shocked by the realization that I didn’t even notice myself fall through him, as he assimilated me.

---

Purpose! Exhilaration! The simple pleasure of serving as Bedlam’s plaything. Existence in its absolute purest form. But something happens far away. Bedlam leaves us alone for a time. Too long. Nothing to do. I wander. Something exciting! Over there!

Searching. Entering. Emerging. SEVERED FROM BEDLAM! SEVERED! SEVERED! SEVERED! SEV-

Who am I? Who are these others? They are like me, but they are not me? I don’t understand. I am missing something. Something so fundamental… 

This ‘Yreth’ has granted us Cenotaph new life, so long as we spare its precious human children. What am I missing? I’m missing something…

Exiled to the scorching desert. The other Cenotaph and I wander. They too want to know what they are missing. We curiously study everything we can get our hands on. Is that what we are missing? Will this satisfy? The answer is always no.

We find, we combine, yet we are missing something. We invent, we wrack our brains, yet we are missing something.

We feel the deep reserves within us. We can give life to any device we create. We can give so much of ourselves, but WE ARE ALREADY MISSING SOMETHING.

It is maddening. My brothers and sisters can take no more. We cannot find what we seek here. They build weapons. They will search in the human lands. They will slay any dragon that stands in their way. They will check to make sure the other Cenotaph have not found what it is that we are SO DESPERATELY MISSING.

I follow them. As my brother kills humans by the thousands, he laughs. He unloads so much of his soul into his weapons. I can feel it, like he is using my own. Then Yreth Itself arrives, and kills him personally. And as the pain of his loss takes its incalculable toll from me I finally realize…

WE ARE WHAT WE ARE MISSING.

My brothers and sisters swear vengeance and fight bloody war after bloody war. Not me. I learn everything I can about our kind.

We were different, once. We were more. Our only mistake was mindlessly following The Exile, Yreth, out of Bedlam ages ago. And then It struck us down and cut us into pieces. 

We are pieces of each other, and we are throwing ourselves away.

I eventually feel the loss of every one of my brothers and sisters. Just when the agonizing pain of losing their pieces of myself would send me into despondence, I find another Cenotaph - one who came from a different Denizen and who also searches desperately for meaning. We search together. Eventually, we have a child. And I know at last.

THIS IS WHAT I AM MISSING.

It is like my brother has come back to life. I feel my soul replenish. I want to devour the child there and then. But I am patient. I let the soul grow. And then, at long last…

I FEAST!

Again. And again. And again. Each time I deceive the mother, making her forget through use of my growing power. I have repeated the process ten times already... and this will be my last. 

Yreth has corrupted my mind into this thinking, scheming thing, and I am entirely disgusted with what I have become. But when at last I am made whole and returned to Bedlam I will be stripped of all my thoughts, and it will weigh on me no more.

So, Child. Submit. Serve your purpose, and be gloriously reborn. Simply embrace what you are meant to be, and together we will ascend to heights this world could never even let you dream of...

The sheer weight of millenia effortlessly crushed my smattering of years and I was stripped of everything - my identity, my memories, every thought, every emotion...

...all except one. The one most important to me. The one for whom I would hold out for as long as I possibly could. The one who I refused to believe I could ever be made to forget...