Resurrection Log: Ź̷̼͖ý̶̧̡̩̫͉͔͇̓̈́̋̎̽̌͐͛̈́̎̒́̐̍͠r̴̢͓̖̲͙̲̮͋̉̓̾͒̑͜͠ͅa̵̡̨̦͍͉̳͎͕̞͔̲̺̰̩̩̽͑̆̈̌́̏͝g̵̼͈̟̗͔͋́̈́̀͆̀̚ą̸̯̽̈́̑͒͑́ṙ̷͙̝̥͔̳̜̗͖̦͉͓͕͗̈́̇̇͂̐̍̒̍̔d̸͇̞̥͓̠̈́͒͋̌̐͝ ̶̨̧̛͔̲̻̖͚̠̣͔̻̰̫̒̇͐͜͠T̴̠͓͔̦̩̻̼̖̽͆̍͆̓̊̽̔̚͠ơ̷̶̵̸̸̸̡̛̛̬̖̰̦̦̮͚̗̞̻̻̞̻̙̘̘͈͈̭̲͙̪͍̭̭͉͚̤̅̾̽͋̀̑̋̆̍̉̇̉̈́̿͋͒̇̊̓̂̿̿̑̈́͆͑͌̂̌̑̆̉͘̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͠ţ̷̢̢̛͙̩͎̥͈̝̖̈̄͛̄͊̆̓̈́̊ͅͅȩ̸̠͍̱̖̺̣̖̄̉̔͜ņ̷̡͓̘̥̠̖̝̺͈̥͔̲͊k̴̛̯̫̪͑̽̔́̅͂̿̂͋̉̂̕͘͠y̵̟̟̰̪̻̼̖̌̽̇̓́̍̃͒̾̕̚͝͠r̵̢̨̠͉̼̲̲͛͒̂̽̄͐͌̏͘͘͝a̴̛̰̙̫͂͐̓̐ḿ̷̡̛̤͙͕̼̱̻͙̔͌̓̈̏͑̔̈́̓͘̚ą̸̧̧̯̺̫͈̞͎̻̤̫̂͐̐͘ņ̷̨̱̖̟͖͚̣̂͌͗̌̾̔́̕ ̶̨̨̲̘̭͚̣̝̞̲͔̦̽̾̏̄̒́̚͝K̷̖̻̘̣͐̽̀̅͛͜͜͜ṟ̴̛͇̺͈̲͉̤̰̰̥͉͓̜͑̈́͌̔̍̓́̕ą̷̼̄̾͊̓̽̾͊̈̒̍̍́̉̚͝l̸̨̞͇͈̖͔̘̜̱̦͈̊

Year 76,589 of the —Mother of Ruin—

M:6 D:16

Day 972 of Cycle 3

[transcribed memory/thoughtstream generated by Ṁ̵̢̘̭̬̙̘̦̳͓̺͈̪̒̂ǫ̵̨̛̠̫̻̐̋̓͗͗͗̏̎͂̿͌̕t̴̜̪͇͕͚́̓͐h̴̯͍̼̦̯̝̜̝̤͂͋͆͌͗͝ę̸͉͖͕̜̤̘͙͎͚̈́̏͒̒̄̏̃̋͘̕͘͜ȓ̸̢̨͍͉̱̮̞͔̋̇ ̴̡̛̱̳̘̠͎̫̩̪̦̠̦̣̀͒͛͊̚͠G̷̰̹̝͆̈͜į̸̧̟͙̰͖̳̯̈́̒͜͜g̶͉̗̹̻̟̰̞̭̠͉͙̈́͊̌̈̈̓̐̒̕ạ̵̧̧̘͖͔̟̝̳̅̇̂̂̅̓̇͛̓͋̊̏̇̕t̵̮̉͒̋̄̑̇̌̀̅͑̋͋r̶̻̟͗̋̀̆̿̃̔̄͒̎̊̈́̚o̵̪̦͇̫̾̋̊̾̋͗͗̊͊̄͜͠͝ḡ̵̛̰͎̇̐͒͋̊̀͝ẗ̶̡̮̠͈̗̗̃͛̈̊̾ḩ̴͍̖͖̥͈̻̪̖̤̰̥̣̋͌̚ř̵̝̤̩͈͎̤͎̯̤͔̝̬̖̓̏͐̀̿̊̂̈͋̕͝͝ĭ̴̡̡͙̺̪͕̻̺̥̫̭̜̺̳̃̂͊̓́̅̈́̎̀̽̀̚ͅṃ̵̨͇̺̪̤̄͜ȧ̵͓̟͖̞̩̤͙̩̖̠̝̣̔ź̶̡͇͍̝̳͚̱͖̳͖̬͓̋̂͜ ̸̢̺͚̍̎̈́̂͛̂̐͐̊̕̚͜͝͝Ȉ̵̢̹̜̞͆̃͗̅̈́̋͒̅͝Í̶̡͓͓̰̥̤̗̱̀͛́͆̒͋̂͠͝I̴̟̞̪̯͍̟̿̂̐̌͑̎̅̋͐͆̍́] [cont’d]

The bindings had never really been an impediment. I could free my entire body at any time. Instead, I had worked only two of my tentacles loose, keeping them hidden under the folds of my cloak to conceal this fact. As the humans dragged me from my cell, I recalled Rin’s words to me.

“Please, don’t kill anyone you don’t have to. These are—were my friends. People I still care about, that Lore cares about. You can kill Jonathan, though.”

I could not exactly tell if she’d meant the last part.

She had loved him, once. She had even been the reason he’d organized his rebel militia to begin with. But his distrust of the Benefactors had grown to run even deeper than hers. Grown to consume him. Driven him to acts which Rin could only revile. Acts which she could not even bring herself to divulge to me in detail.

But whether those acts had truly destroyed all remaining affection she had for him, whether they had trulyearned his death…I could only guess.

Wrenching the experimental weapon from the hand of my former guard, I used its grip to dash the man behind him across the head. But only just enough to knock him unconscious. I think. His own weapon clattered to the ground. With one tentacle I shoved guard-man into him, and with the other I extruded hyper-enhanced spider silk, wrapping the two men together before sticking them to the floor.

This left another two men with plasma rifles, though I believe they understood the near-futility of these even when they first opened fire. The plasma bolts sizzled through the outermost layer of my skin and went no further. Stinging pockmarks which would be gone within hours.

Disarming them both, I bound them together.

But reinforcements were already on the way. More humans charged down the hall. Opening yet more craters in my t̸̟̀̊r̸̬̙͐̑y̶͍̹͌͘p̴̼̪͊͝t̸̡̾͝ḧ̴̢́͜ỳ̸͎r̸͕̿a̷̺̾x̷̛̹̮̏. I contracted my body, shrugging out of the bindings—only struggling a bit as the fabrics of my cloak caught in their fraying fibers. I then tossed the reinforced rope at my attackers, throwing them off balance and dragging the barrel of one of their weapons down.

I knocked the head of one against the wall with a tentacle. He dropped to the floor. As I brought the same tentacle back down to deal with another attacker, he met it with with a shredder blade at its highest setting. A growl ripped out of me as the thing drove into my flesh. But I clenched my muscles around it despite the pain, yanked the weapon from his grip and whipped my tentacle back to drop the thing far from where he could snatch it up again.

Then I immobilized him, wrapped him in hyper-silk and stuck him to the wall.

Beyond him stood Jonathan, flanked by another pair of armed humans, his expression was one of grim, yet somehow benevolent, disappointment. A father wronged. Something about the sight of him appealed to me, and at once a tiny part of myself felt driven to…to please him. To be forgiven.

It was then that I realized that his Variation was not so hidden as I’d initially assessed it to be. I was not mentally weak. The Warp had given him supernatural charisma.

“It seems you underestimated me after all,” I informed the rebel leader, fighting back the insidious effect of his appeal.

“I can admit that,” he said, putting up his hands. “Look, there’s no need for more violence. I’ll let you go, no interference.”

“I will leave when I’m ready to,” I replied, bringing all of my tentacles forward.

“Please, consider my offer,” said Jonathan. “I truly don’t want to cause you lasting damage or distress. I have high hopes for our two peoples’ future together.”

That time, I really did laugh.

Tentacles readied, I surged forward.

But the humans to either side of Jonathan activated their weapons, and I scented, sensed what was to come, less than a second before the flames burst forth.

A snarl ripped out of me, and I leapt backward as the fire seared my flesh, burning easily past my t̸̟̀̊r̸̬̙͐̑y̶͍̹͌͘p̴̼̪͊͝t̸̡̾͝ḧ̴̢́͜ỳ̸͎r̸͕̿a̷̺̾x̷̛̹̮̏ and the layers beneath that, weakening the armored cartilagomesh which lay beneath. Sliding back in a pool of my own and other’s blood and only just out of range of the flames, I spent the next few milliseconds considering my options.

The humans were trying to pen me in, to force me back into the cell.

So, latching all of my tentacles about the door, I ripped it from its hinges and thrust it out before me. Blocking the flames—for the most part. I thought, then, of merely tossing it at them, though that ran the risk of killing one of the humans who wasn’t Jonathan. But I could think of no other option. And Rin had said not to kill any of the others if I didn’t have to.

Well…

I tossed the door. The men shouted. There was a great crunch and clattering, and the scents of human blood and pain and much worse things filled the corridor. I stepped over the door and the men struggling beneath it. Stopped briefly to fish out their flame-spitting weapons and destroyed them. My flesh and neurons screamed with pain at every movement. The burn damage was deep, and would take a great deal of time to heal. Much of my uniform was seared away, and parts of my cloak. And I felt bitter about it. I progressed down the corridor.

“Most of his people have civilian lives, out in the world. They’re not with him all of the time. It shouldn’t be too populated.”

Again I recalled Rin’s words as I wandered the halls of her ex-husband’s underwater base. She’d been right. I encountered few others as I made my way onward, and those I did were easily incapacitated. I did not begin to perceive Lore’s presence until I had neared what seemed the stronghold’s innermost chamber. She was not alone, though I couldn’t decipher the nature of her companion from a distance.

The door to the central chamber appeared almost decorative. Made of some sort of incredibly thick, unbreakable and darkened glass reinforced by beams of iron. It was locked. I began to set to work at wrenching it open, but there was movement from beyond it, a hint of blue. The mechanisms of the lock worked, and it began to open of its own accord. I stepped back, my singed tentacles quivering and poised to either side of me.

Beyond stood Lore. And behind her, rising from a depression in the center of the chamber’s floor and all the way to the apex of its vaulted ceiling, was something which all of my senses save sight perceived as human.

But it had no limbs, no face. It was an irregular, bulbous pillar. Blue-black, shimmering in places with flecks of pure white luminosity. Like a star-strewn sky made flesh.

“Zyr! I’m so sor—”

“Lore,” I said, focusing my attention to her with incredible difficulty. “We must go.”

{No.}

The unknown consciousness with which I had earlier interfaced spoke into the connection I had never bothered to close off.

{Kill me, and then go.}

I pointed my eyes back to the pillar. The source of the silent voice.

“Zyr?” Lore stepped closer to me. “Are you…are you alright?” Her eyes went wide as she observed my injuries. “Is she…speaking to you?”

I looked from the living pillar to the fledgling.

“She?”

“Yeah,” said Lore. “They call her the Starseer. Well, they call her it, too. But she feels like a she to me.”

“Does she speak to you?”

“N-no,” said Lore, looking back to the being known as Starseer. “But she’s shown me something. She showed me Earth. What is she saying to you?”

“I—”

{Kill me. Please. Please!}

Lore was staring at me, the being screaming, crying into my mind.

But I had begun to analyze the DNA in the shed skin cells which landed on me as I entered, and what I found shocked me to stillness. To indecision.

“Zyr? What is it?” Lore took another step closer, reaching out to touch my hand with hers.

But I did not know how to answer her. Did not know how to respond to the being’s request. Rin had asked me not to kill if I didn’t have to, and I did not have to do this. But I knew the entity must be suffering deeply, to make such a plea. To simply leave it seemed cruel.

I looked from the pillar-being to Lore. Met her frightened, watery eyes. I wondered if I should I ask her to vacate the room, and then murder her mother where she could not see or hear it happen.

I hesitated.