The Great Core's Paradox

Chapter 117: A Recognizable Story

Recreating Tiamat was just as difficult as I had expected, which was part of the reason that I hadnt tried to do so in the past. I hadnt wanted to risk the Coreless dismissing the threat that she posed, especially when there was so much that I couldnt explain through [Illusion Spark] - and knowing that she was so far away, somewhere deep within the World Dungeon, I might have even ignored some of that threat myself.

I hissed and strained, stressing the reservoirs within my scale-flesh. Light burst forth in a dim tracery of her form; as large as she was, it was the only way that I could have managed it. While I could have made a smaller version of the would-be usurper, I needed the Coreless to understand.

It made me wish that I could send images to my Coreless in the way that Tiamat could send to those she was connected to. She had been able to show me so much, while I was stuck with...this. The thought was bitter and disgusting, my mouth-flesh all but twisting in distaste. I hated the idea of being jealous of her in any way.

I fought back against it, forcibly reminding myself of her many flaws - of the way that her creations were twisted and ugly, of the way that she was arrogant enough to think she could defeat the Great Core, and of the truth that she had been formed by a Lesser Core.

She was nothing, in the end.

Almost instantly, I felt better. My mood lifted, and I focused on [Illusion Spark] again. Tiamats form continued to grow, reaching her full size, and I made sure to connect the thread from her nearest creations to the illusion.

There was a response.

[apprehension/fear]

It wasnt enough.

They knew that I was showing them a threat. From the taste from their Totems, that much was obvious. Despite that, they didnt seem to quite understand.

I was too limited. I couldnt reveal the way that Tiamat had tried to usurp the Great Core. I couldnt show the potential horror that was [Chains of the Creator]. I couldnt convey the dangerous power of her thought-hisses.

The Coreless would never experience those themselves, unable to mistakenly receive the false blessing that was [Chains of the Creator]. In many ways, that was a relief. It rankled to admit it, but Tiamat had nearly managed to enthrall me for a short while.

My Coreless, with their relatively new faith in the Great Core, might have actually fallen under her sway.

No, that was a burden that I was glad they couldnt be forced to bear.

Still, there were other things that I could reveal - things that, now that they had seen the way her creations still sought us out, they would hopefully take seriously. Even then, it wouldnt completely demonstrate the extent of the threat. Not quite.

I pushed against my reservoirs again, altering the illusion. A giant gash formed on her side, far larger than truly necessary, but I wanted to make things obvious. Blood welled from the wound, and an unnaturally crimson droplet fell. My Coreless followed it down, tracking the motion with widened eyes.

It hit the ground, splashing outwards in a great burst of fluid. It covered the ground. It began to bubble and boil.

And from the churning, crimson-coated stone, monsters formed.

The flesh-twisted bad-things that I knew the most formed first. They were soon joined by a host-hive, a few flying bad-things poking their heads out from the small-tunnels within its flesh. Then, as my scale-flesh strained and struggled, even more appeared. I pulled from my memories of Tiamats vision, making rough illusions of the many varied monsters that I had seen her create - and each and every one of them were connected to Tiamat, a thin thread of light tracing from their heads to hers.

The [Mana Fire] that I was drawing from finally ran out, leaving me with little to draw on; my reservoirs emptied, and the light died.

Tiamat and her monsters vanished, casting us into near-darkness.

My Coreless babbled, sounds spilling from their lips in an unending stream. I didnt understand, and so I focused on the only thing that I could.

The fangs of my mind impatiently raked across each [Little Guardians Totem] in turn, searching for a sign of my success.

That was a huge Ascended

[apprehension/fear]

What was that with the blood, though? Is he trying to tell us that the giant Ascended and the Hexablades were made by the same Core?

[worry/confusion]

I soon felt what I had been looking for. A thought-hiss called out to me, stronger than the rest. I hadnt even needed to check for it myself, in the end.

Because one of them had understood more than the rest.

[RECOGNITION/UNDERSTANDING/FEAR/DETERMINATION]

I think I know what we just saw, a voice called out.

The words had burst from Wills lips, overpowering the rest, ushering them into silence. Slowly, my eyes began to readjust to the dim light of the alcove, with only the nearby glow-caps to help me see.

Even without the help of his [Little Guardians Totem], I knew that I would have recognized the emotions that passed over Wills face.

I saw understanding.

I saw the terror that understanding brought with it.

At the same time, I saw the resolve that had earned Will his name, long ago during his first false-death.

The Coreless began to speak.

Meanwhile, I followed as best I could, touching my find to each available [Little Guardians Totem] in turn.

Wills voice started slow; tentative, as if the act of speaking was difficult, like he had to force himself to form the words. I...I think, anyway. It was in a story that I read once, back when I was a kid. My father had bought it somewhere during his mercenary days - Virtun, maybe? He paused for a moment, lost in thought, before nodding. Yeah, I think that was it. It was some sort of legend.

The-female-who-was-not-Needle stiffened abruptly, reacting to something in his words, and Will paused to think again. I tasted the [disquiet] that he had caused; it was almost cloying in its persistence, like stubborn fluid trapped on my tongue in the wake of a meal, refusing to disappear.

I heard the silence, the quiet of my Coreless [disquiet]. The-female-who-was-not-Needle was the worst of them; her own silence was overbearing in its intensity, made all the worse by the growing emotion that screamed through my connection to her. Whatever Will had said, she found it deeply troubling. Her face was paler than normal, and I eventually heard her mutter something under her breath. The sounds wisped away before I could catch them, unable to break the silence.

The others never quite noticed.

He laughed, shaking his head, but I couldnt find any [amusement] in our connection. I couldnt find any on his face, either.

The [DETERMINATION] was still there.

The [FEAR] was simply stronger.

From what I can remember, it was a tale about an assault on the First Core a long time ago, back when we were still trying to win. There were a bunch of cities involved in the attack; I cant remember the names He shook his head. It doesnt matter, really. In the end, it was a story about why the assault failed, he said.

It was a legend about the Ascended that guards the First Core, one who could create hordes of monsters from her own bleeding wounds.

I felt my Coreless respond to that even further, their [disquiet] joined by far louder emotions. [DREAD]. [SHOCK]. [DISMAY].

Despite that, nobody broke the silence - nobody but Will, the other Coreless hanging on his every word.

They called her the Mother of Monsters. They named her-

The-female-who-was-not-Needle finally broke through the silence of [disquiet], speaking in a breathy whisper that warbled against the [DREAD] lodged in her throat.

Tiamat, she hissed softly.