෴Raz෴

෴Mercator෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

The Benefits of Pessimism

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Raz and Mercator locked eyes across the underground chamber.

“Well human. Would you like to play a game?”

Any idea how much time it would take for White Fire and Quantum Blade to destroy this place from the inside?

[Terse mode engaged: No. I was able to track damage done, but he repaired it.]

If at any point, White Fire is available without needing Quantum Blade, let me know.

Bee acknowledged the directive.

Should have figured it wouldn’t be that easy. Going on record now to say I wish I’d unlocked another ability while I had the chance.

[Terse mode engaged: This isn’t the time for introspection.]

Yeah, I know. Just saying.

Bee didn’t respond, but Raz had the distinct feeling that the response would have been, ‘too late now’.

Even as he maintained his ready stance, senses alert for anything that might be a threat, Raz gave Mercator a sharp nod. “Ok, I’ll play.”

Something about Mercator’s broad smile would have put him on edge even without the mouthful of fangs. “Excellent. Let me tell you about a game called checkers.”

Mercator set up the board by opening a portal. A disc of shimmering, nauseating wrongness appeared in the air, then slid downward, leaving behind a stone pillar supported by nothing. When the portal reached the floor, it shrank away into nothing, leaving the pillar in place without any seam he could detect, as though it had always been there. Raz gauged the distance between himself and Mercator, it was barely sufficient for safety.

Hmm, if he jumps out of that throne, those long arms will be in reach. As long as he’s sitting, I’ve got maybe a 102cm safe window while making my turn. That long upper body gives him so much extra reach. A meter of safety doesn’t feel like nearly enough. Bee, I want a subtle, full-on stealth scan, ongoing. Don’t display it, just keep the data.

[Done.]

While Mercator set up the board, Raz took the time to mark his opponent with Ground Control, and Ionized Path markers. On such a large target, he was able to target body parts with some precision. Yeah, let's see how you like a little lightning to the head. Maybe those horns will carry it right to your brain.

He marked himself with Friendly Fire, but with so little access to White Fire, didn’t expect to need it.

And then they played. Raz started out defensively. Mercator seemed to think about each move for far too long. Although each move was deliberated on for minutes that felt like hours to Raz, Mercator’s playstyle, once he moved, was both decisive and aggressive. The giant seemed to know the rules well enough, and didn’t hesitate to sacrifice his pieces to force Raz out of his defensive formations.

“You play just like him. Cowardly, and you make your moves much too quickly,” Mercator grumbled, “In war, you should not waste the time one is given to consider.”

Raz wasn’t sure what to say to this, given his decisive lead in the game.

Yeah, imagine that, I’m playing defensively in a game with stakes, almost like I don’t want to lose.

“How many opponents have you had in this game?” Raz replied, just waiting for the moment when Mercator attacked.

The pale blue giant stroked at his chin with short, clawed fingers. It was a surprisingly human gesture. Then he ruined it by digging a claw into the puckered flesh around his horns. “I see your point. Do all humans play in this way?” He leaned forward on the throne, the shift cutting deep into Raz’s safety buffer.

Raz took a step back and peered at the board as though his step was a coincidence, and he was simply considering his strategy. “I have no idea. I don’t play this game very often.” And it’s not like I’ve played against everyone on earth. I wonder if he even knows how many people there are. I bet that's another thing I shouldn't discuss.

Once he was out of what he presumed was Mercator’s instant melee range, a message from Bee popped up.

[Update: Mercator is recovering energy much faster than most people. Repairing the damage to his reality threshold cost him significantly, but he’s nearly full again.]

Is he faster at energy regen than me?

[Not even close.]

[Warning. Your extensive use of enhanced perception of time, your ‘slow time’ is draining your Catalyst reserves.]

I know, can’t afford not to do it.

Mercator moved, appearing to set him up for another 1 to 1 exchange of pieces. Raz countered with a double jump the giant didn’t seem to have anticipated.

“Argh!” Mercator suddenly let out a frustrated exclamation. “These rules are foolish! This game clearly simulates battle, but in the most unwieldy of ways! As though I could not simply turn around at will. Why must I move only forward? Why does being a ‘king’ give me the ability to move backwards!? How can one of your warriors defeat two of mine at once?!” The giant’s chest heaved, his nose flapping open as he breathed hard for a few seconds. “Very well. I can see you will win this game.” With that he slapped his own hand down on the stone table with a loud thud.

Interesting. If it’s not a trick, being willing to concede a losing game tells me he can predict how the rest of this game will probably go. The question is, does any of this translate to how he would actually fight?

“My understanding is that the pieces are meant to represent armies, or units within an army.” Raz remarked as studied the board.

Mercator’s eyes widened. “Really? How interesting,” he made soft low sounds in the back of his throat as he looked over the board, “Yes, I see it now. Interesting. How many of you humans would make up these groups?”

Why do I have a feeling this is exactly the sort of thing Midnight would have said not to talk to him about? Hmm, need an answer that is true, but not too helpful.

“Hard to say really. I haven’t been in the military myself. If I recall, a team is four soldiers.”

Mercator eyed Raz. “Well, four humans are hardly a threat to one of my people,” his tone was very matter of fact.

I mean, he’s not wrong. Looks like you’d want a tank, or rocket launcher, to take him on.

“I’d imagine so. Are you conceding?” Raz dipped into slow time and braced himself for the attack.

Mercator gave him another of those unsettling smiles. “I suppose. Here is my guest. If he wishes to leave with you, then our business is concluded.”

He?! What the hell is this about?

Another portal appeared, the fundamental wrongness of it filled Raz’s senses with something like static, as though the portal was glitch in reality. The field swept down, revealing a young man. From his appearance and clothing, Raz guessed he was a local. The man immediately began to speak in an unfamiliar language. As he jabbered on, Raz took the moment to mark him with Friendly Fire.

As the chatter went on, Raz tried to hide his frustration and concern. He gestured for the young man to come with him. Get you out, then come back I guess.

Mercator said something that sounded like the same language. Immediately, the man backed away from both Raz and Mercator, cowering against the wall.

“I don’t speak his language. What did you say?” Raz demanded.

“Why, I simply told him you’re here to take him away.” Mercator answered smoothly.

[Possible signs of deception.]

Yeah, sounds like bullshit to me.

Raz shrugged. “I was told you had a female guest. I suppose I’ll take her instead.”

Mercator snarled. “I don’t recall offering you a choice. My home is not some merchant’s cart you can simply pick and choose from!” The giant regained his composure with visible effort. “Besides, I said I’d allow you to take my guest away with you, not that I would compel them to accompany you.”

Eyeing the giant, Raz considered his options.

A fight feels inevitable, but I can’t win without White Fire, and Quantum Blade will wreck the place. Guess I’ll have to keep him playing?

“Are you ready for my questions?” He said, watching Mercator for signs of aggression.

With a gesture, Mercator whooshed the ‘guest’ away. “Very well. Ask your questions.”

Raz caught himself about to ask a question that would almost certainly give Mercator an excuse to take offense at him. Bad idea!

“How many humans are here with you?” Was hoping to ask a more big picture question, but I didn’t expect other prisoners.

Mercator leaned further forward in his throne, his pale blue clawed hands pressed together, palm to palm. “An interesting question. I have five guests at the moment.”

Raz nodded, unsure what to do with that information just yet. “Where did you send Doktor Midnight?”

Mercator shrugged. “I truly do not know. I sent him ‘away’.”

“How can you not know?” Raz blurted out without thinking.

Mercator leaned forward and lazily swiped a hand at him. Already partially into slow time, Raz dove deeper and leaned back out of reach. The vast clawed hand whistled past, bare inches from his face. The giant didn’t pursue him, just settled back into the chair.

That’s not good, he’s taking my measure, trying to figure out my capabilities, how to fight me when he decides it’s time. How to kill me.

[Decoding ongoing ability activation Complete. Ability name: Beachhead. Countdown to activation is still being decoded. ]

Beachhead? Why is that word familiar?

Raz brought his focus back to the moment and continued as though Mercator hadn’t just tried to attack him. “Are you counting that as one of my questions?”

The giant shrugged, his massive shoulders rolling with a deceptively relaxed posture. “Of course. You asked, and I answered. If you asked me how many grains of sand sit outside my home, I wouldn’t know that either, but you would have still asked a question.”

Raz took a long, steadying breath. “So, are you interested in playing again, for the same stakes?” Come on Midnight, get back from wherever he sent you!

Mercator started to nod. Raz quickly spoke up. “A different guest of course. No sense in bringing out the same human again,” he said with a forced chuckle.

Mercator frowned, confirming Raz’s suspicions that he’d planned to do just that.

“The same stakes? No. I grow tired of this. Our former wager has been concluded. You and Midnight seem to want my guests to leave. Very well. I propose a new wager. We play four-in-a-row. If you win, I will personally place all my guests outside my home, safe and unharmed. and do nothing to keep them from leaving. I’ll even give you two more questions.” Mercator’s grin twitched into a sneer for an instant.

I don’t see how, but I know he’s going to try and screw me over somehow.

“Ok, how is this game played?” Hopefully asking misleading questions doesn’t count as a lie. Faking ignorance can’t hurt, since he’s trying to claim he invented it.

Mercator removed the checkerboard and portaled in a new stone pillar. The moment his portal appeared, Bee informed Raz that White Fire was indirectly available, via the portal itself. Bee further warned him that the available power level might be much less this way.

Interesting, I’ll take what I can get, where I can get it.

The new pillar had a metal wireframe game board mounted on top. The game pieces were discs of metal, in matte black and a shiny brushed finish. The giant took his time explaining the rules. None of it seemed any different than the game he’d played as a kid. As he finished, Mercator popped out of the stone chair, gesticulating with his vast arms. The metal game set was all perfectly formed and seamless.

Even if he hadn’t told me, I’d know Midnight made this.

Mercator surged to his feet, reaching out at him. Despite Raz’s certainty that this would end in a surprise attack, the sudden movement almost caught him off guard. With a liberal use of slow time, Raz took several steps back to retain his gap while drawing on White Fire just as he’d done before. Another stream of messages about Quantum Blade activation queued at the edge of his vision. The weapon jumped in his grip, the clawed side pulling hard in his hand. The room around them wobbled, seeming to lose cohesion for a split second before it stabilized.

Mercator crouched, arms spread wide for balance as his gaze darted around the room. He looked haunted. “Is that your doing?!” he asked, his tone making it a demand.

Raz shrugged. “Is what my doing? Are we playing or not?”

Still taking my measure. I don’t like where this is going.

The giant settled back into the throne, his mannerisms a bit more agitated than before. “Yes. Let us play then.”

[He has repaired the damage done to the Reality Threshold.]

He can fix it too fast!

Raz hadn't played the game since he was a kid, but recalled it well enough. Mercator seemed to deliberate even longer between each play with this game.

All this waiting around for the inevitable surprise attack is really wearing on me.

Without much effort, Raz played until he’d lined up too many ways to win for Mercator to block. The giant hurled a game piece to the floor, sending it pinging across the room.

“Very well!” he snarled.

Raz waited, sure this was the moment Mercator would attack. Instead, the giant waved at the wall and created a portal there. Bee once again informed him that White Fire could somehow be pulled in through these portals at a reduced power. Through the portal, he could see five people standing on the rocky sand. They looked around in confusion. None of them appeared to be injured. A sigh of relief burst out of him when he saw his mother was one of the five. Without thinking, he took a step toward the portal.

The portal snapped shut. Raz realized his mistake an instant too late. No matter how deep into slow time he went, he simply couldn't move fast enough to avoid Mercator’s enormous fist. From his ultra slow time vantage point, he saw and felt the punch impact his chest. At the moment of impact, the skintight suit of armor instantly became rigid all over. He watched his energy level plummet as the blow threw him backward away from Mercator.

The reactive material instantly went super-rigid, saving his life, but the hit still felt like he’d been struck by a car. It knocked the wind right out of him. Still in slow time, he managed to land on his feet, gasping and struggling to breathe. “Wha?” He tried to talk, but didn't have the air.

Mercator got up, rising to his full height standing erect. “Surely this is no surprise? I have adhered to our agreement.”

Still gasping, Raz tried to speak. All he could manage was a wheezing burble. Mercator advanced, his legs short for his body, but still nearly as long as Raz was tall. The large room suddenly didn’t feel very big at all.

Raz staggered backwards, struggling to keep his balance. Mercator’s vast steps ate up the distance between them in slow motion.

He’s so big! I’ve got no chance without White Fire.

A vast hand reached out for him. Waiting until the last possible moment, Raz ducked under the arm and slid behind the giant. Mercator reacted quickly, a kick that would have pulped Raz narrowly missing his fast moving target.

Mercator dove through a portal. His movements appeared slow enough that Raz was able to sense the incoming portal and evade the huge clawed grip that emerged. Even with his newfound speed in slow time, Mercator’s vast reach and powerful frame ate up most of that advantage. During the short window of time the portal was open, Raz pulled in as much White Fire as he could through it.

“My guests are gone.” Mercator taunted him. “And yet you remain. Obviously, you are no guest of mine.”

Raz pulled both sides of the weapon apart, extending it into the club configuration. As Mercator was still slowly turning around to face Raz, Bee displayed a pale flashing spot on the side of Mercator’s loaded knee joint.

Of course, sweep the leg and all that.

He shifted his grip and stepped into a perfectly executed two hand power attack on the biggest structural weak point he could hope for a giant to have. The club whistled through the air, making contact with a meaty thud and a bright flash of energy that took his entire meager store of accumulated White Fire with it.

Raz leaped back, expecting Mercator to fall, or for the knee joint to catastrophically fail. Instead, Mercator absently rubbed at the spot where he’d been hit and then smiled, his mouth full of teeth making it a hungry leer.

“That actually hurt. But not much. You say you’re a champion. Surely that isn't the extent of your power.” Mercator stood up and advanced on Raz again. If the hit had affected his knee at all, Raz couldn't see it in the giant’s movements.

We are in serious shit now. Do I pop this place like a balloon and take the whole place down? No, no suicide bombs just yet. How do—

Mercator’s incoming swing cut off his planning. Raz waited to see where the giant’s fist was going, then dove out of the path of destruction. Rolling to the side, Raz lunged in with a one handed club strike on the same enormous knee. There was no flash discharge in this hit.

Mercator shook his head and laughed. “You think to wear me down with such pathetic impacts? It will never happen.”

The influence of Might was evident in every slow time motion. Moving in the slow time was easier, more fluid. Raz didn’t miss the feeling like every muscle and tendon was screaming in protest. Slow time was deeper now, his movements faster. The terrifying size of Mercator, with the reach of his too-long arms seemed to eat up any advantage this speed gave him. He landed another blow with the club, the third dull meaty thunk making no further impression on the giant than the first two.

Mercator paused, the sharp, bony ridges where his eyebrows should have been lowering in consideration, or anger, Raz couldn't tell.

“You’re a quick one, aren't you. I have ways,” the giant’s tone was mocking, almost gloating, “of dealing with quickness.”

WIth a tiny gesture, several discs of sickening unreality appeared in the large chamber. The nauseating discs of nothing seemed to spin, or at least, Raz had the impression they would have been spinning, if there was anything solid to them. He marked them with Ground Control and Ionized Path.

Raz felt something and suddenly grinned. He didn't need a message from Bee letting him know these portals gave him indirect access to White Fire. He’d take what he could get. The power began to flow into him as quickly as he could pull it in. The weapon in his hand jumped and jittered, as if eager to rejoin the battle.

Mercator didn’t expect his opponent to smile. “You see my power and smile?! Do you even know what it is you face? I am a master of—”

Shut up!

A surge of lightning across Mercator’s neck cut off words. The giant convulsed and fell to the ground with a heavy thump. The blast of White Fire was positively anemic compared to what Raz was accustomed to, but it was enough to shut Mercator up.

For a moment.

Raz pulled as hard as he could at the thin streams of power. White Fire coming in slow, too slow. The weapon jerked and wriggled in his hand, fighting his grip. Mercator sat up and probed at his blackened, charred throat gingerly.

“Well now. It seems the tiny champion has a bite to him after all.” With that, Mercator got to his feet, the burn across his neck not seeming to overly trouble him.

The giant seemed slightly more cautious now, but not enough to change his plans. “You know, usually you humans want to ask questions right about now.”

Raz didn’t reply. He circled the large chamber across from Mercator, the pain in his chest a reminder that he couldn’t take another hit.

The weapon in its club form became more unruly the most power Raz pulled in. He shifted his grip and glanced down at the weapon. An instant’s distraction was the opening Mercator was waiting for. When his eyes flicked back up, Mercator’s sharp claws were already far too close. Slow time wouldn't be enough to dodge now.

In desperation, Raz quick-stepped to the side and grabbed the weapon in both hands to brace it against the incoming blow.

Mercator hit him like a truck. The weapon channeled all his built up White Fire into a crackle of energy that exploded outward into the giant’s hand and the room. Raz felt a lot of things happen very quickly even deep in the slow time. The end result was him being thrown across the chamber, bouncing, rolling and coming to rest against the far wall. The weapon clattered against the wall far beyond his reach.

Raz spared a glance toward the passageway out, but Mercator was already on him. He rolled away but was too slow. Mercator seized his leg in an iron grip, and hoisted him into the air triumphantly.

Mercator made a sweeping gesture with his free hand, then turned in confusion. The portals he’d created were gone. The giant lifted Raz high, staring quizzically at the small creature in his grip. “How did you do that?” He scowled, and made a new portal. The disc of perverse space drifted toward Raz’s midsection.

Something primal told Raz that he wouldn’t survive contact with whatever this portal creation was made of. He pulled at White Fire and unleashed a weak pulse of energy into Mercator’s head. The thin crackling stream carved a furrow into the giant’s face and across the side of his head. The portal snapped shut, cutting Raz off from more White Fire.

Mercator dropped Raz and clutched at his face with an agonized howl. Raz landed in a heap and awkwardly rolled away from the giant. The weapon was somehow back in his hand.

Raz clambered to his feet, gaze darting from the passage out to the giant holding his injured face. He’d just taken a step toward the passage when Mercator began to laugh.

The giant threw his head back and laughed uproariously, as though he’d suddenly understood the punchline of a very funny joke.

Raz took another step to the side, eyes on the enemy. The movement caught Mercator’s attention, and the giant slipped through a portal to emerge in his path. Raz jumped back, eyes searching for another way out.

“That was White Fire, wasn't it?” Mercator rumbled.

Him knowing that name cannot be good.

The giant looked positively giddy. “I’ve wanted to test myself against a weidler of White Fire for so long! I loved the stories of our heroes standing against the terrifying might of the wielders of iron and fire.” Mercator then shook his head. The excitement seemed to fall out of him. “But this. This cannot be it.”

Raz, forced to choose between the dark passage leading deeper into his lair, and the well-lit large open chamber, chose to stay in the room. At least here I’ve got some room to move. Mercator roared, the sound felt like it shook his very bones.

“Well!? I would have an answer, human! Is this the extent of your might?” Mercator demanded.

Raz had the sudden terrifying intuition that the giant had simply been toying with him up till now.

Mercator sighed in disappointment and stretched his hand out into a portal. Another portal appeared right next to Raz.

All the speed he could muster wasn’t enough to evade the giant’s grasping hand. Even as Raz jumped away from the portal, an unyielding hand snatched his foot and yanked him through the portal. The dark tunnel that led outside, just behind Mercator looked so very far away. From somewhere in that tunnel, he thought he could hear footsteps.

“I am disappointed. To hear the stories, a wielder of White Fire is a nightmare incarnate. An implacable warrior of peak power and skill. A fighter without mercy or,” Mercator shook him, hard, “weakness. A singular being known to lay waste to armies.” The giant openned his vast maw.

Seen up close, Raz had no doubt Mercator could bite a limb off without much effort. He tried to swing the club, only to find it had contracted down to the two ended chicken feet. The barely audible footsteps were getting closer. As they grew closer, it was clear that the walker was trying to be sneaky.

Bee, if you’ve got any ideas, don’t hold back on me. Don’t really feel like dying here.

Mercator watched him thrash ineffectively. “But this? You? This is just sad. I imagined such a battle. Thought of how I would defea—” he cut himself off and spat on the ground. “No matter, Whatever pathetic ability this is, it is clearly not the legendary Fiery Blade of the Heavens.” Mercator shook him again, seeming to take joy from doing so. “Oh well. I can still enjoy eating you and then recapture my former guests. Perhaps I’ll make a feast of it.”

Raz prepared to bring the entire pocket dimension down on itself before he’d let that happen. The soft, stealthy, footsteps broke into a run.

Mercator lifted him up and opened his cavernous mouth. A sudden shout broke the silence. “Perun!” Fidel shouted, as he swung his axe with a force that would have felled nearly any tree on earth.