Chapter 722 - Remnants of a Lost Age

Zeke stood at the head of the Mercury as he stared off into the distance.  The Shattered Belt was, in a word, beautiful.  Thousands of asteroids, each one composed of different materials, floated in space.  Some were connected by strands of rainbow light that bound their fates, but others were freestanding, surrounded by atmospheres of potent mana.  There was Will there, too – that ephemeral force that defined various otherworldly characteristics – but it was neither thick nor connected enough to combine with the mana into divine energy.

Still, Zeke couldn’t help but look upon it in awe. 

A half-dozen ships were in view, flitting across the space-scape, intent on landing upon one or another surface.  Some were clearly meant as mining expeditions, but most of the traffic seemed composed of scavenging operations.  In the center of the scattered collection of massive space rocks was an enormous derelict of a ship that dwarfed everything else in Zeke’s field of vision.

“What is it?” he asked, glancing back at one of the crew members.  He’d yet to learn everyone’s name, largely because he knew that those people were expendable.  Or that was how he had to look at them if he wanted to remain capable of doing what needed to be done.  If he got too close to too many, he might begin to waver in his mission. After all, he didn’t believe he’d put one person over the fate of reality, but if he made friends with a few thousand, learning their names and histories, he might start to falter. 

He could not allow that.

“Remnant,” said the crew member as he coiled a rope.  The Mercury was built to resemble a seagoing ship, and that meant it was equipped with all the appropriate accoutrements.  Even the ones that didn’t make much sense, like anchors and ropes.  The sailor continued, “Nobody knows where it came from.  Just that it’s always been here.  There are a dozen others scattered through the belt, but this is the biggest.”

“Why haven’t people dismantled it?” Zeke asked.

“Only lesser gods or better can get close.  Us nobodies would explode before we ever got within a mile of that ship,” he said.  “Even lessers can’t stick around for too long, and I’ve heard tell that a few greater gods tried to come together and, you know, learn what they could learn from it.”

“What happened to them?” Zeke asked.

“Came and went.  Didn’t stick around long.  Didn’t tell the likes of the common folks what they found, neither.  If they did find something, they didn’t share it.”

“I see,” Zeke said.  “Thanks.”

The sailor nodded, then went about his business.  The crew still weren’t particularly comfortable around Zeke, but in the months since they’d come to the Shattered Belt, things had grown a little less tense.  Of course, Tucker got along great with them, but that was just how his personality tended to work. 

If nothing else, people tended to like him.  If Zeke didn’t know better, he might have attributed that trait to a passive skill or some special stat that only Tucker could access.  One way or another, the reality was that the alchemist, for all his faults, was a people person. 

By contrast, his wife definitely wasn’t.  Her crew were loyal, but that loyalty was built on a foundation of her competence, rather than love.  They stuck around and did what they were told because they knew she would lead them in the right direction. 

One manner of bond was no more effective than the other, though Zeke had to wonder which one he might pick, had he the chance to do so.  Of course, he would never need to worry about that sort of thing.  Not only because he refused to let himself get too close to normal people, but also because he simply didn’t have the personality to pull it off.  The fact was that, charitably, he could say that he was similar to Iris, but he fell far short of the mark she’d established.

People followed him not because they liked him or believed in him.  They did so because they didn’t know any better.  Or they didn’t have any other choice.  And by the time they did, they were in too deep.

So it was with the kobolds, who worshipped him because he’d saved them back in the mines beneath Min Ferilik.  That had earned him the moniker Ak-toh, which literally meant savior in their native tongue.  But if he hadn’t saved them?  They certainly wouldn’t have taken up residence in the tower.

The same was true of the beastkin, who he’d picked up during the war against the Imperium.  Back then, they’d been slaves.  He had freed them, and not knowing what else to do, many of those former slaves had opted to join the tower, where they would be protected and their needs would be met.

Many also saw it as an opportunity to grow strong enough they’d never again need to worry about enslavement. 

Most of the others who’d taken up residence in the tower had similar stories.  They were castoffs.  Refugees.  Former slaves.  Far from the cream of the crop, but that didn’t matter.  The tower gave them everything they needed to change their fate. 

And so, they had.

Zeke was the beneficiary of the good will that had earned. 

But they did not love him.  Most didn’t even know him.  They certainly hadn’t met him, and unless he made a show of it, they probably wouldn’t have recognized him, had he walked right in front of them. 

Zeke wasn’t certain if he’d have preferred otherwise, either.  As much as he liked the idea of being loved, of being appreciated, he knew it would only cause problems.

Reinforcing that thought was Talia, who suddenly appeared and snaked her arm around his waist.  One day, it might come down to sacrificing her – along with everyone else – just to complete his goals. 

Could he do it?

She loved him. She trusted him.  She was as devoted as any worshipper.  And yet, Zeke suspected that he would need to give her up to save the rest of their reality.  Oddly enough, the fact that she would willingly commit to that sacrifice, and of her own accord, didn’t seem to matter all that much. 

Perhaps that was a personal failing.  Or maybe he just didn’t trust her judgement.  Either way, Zeke knew that his actions and choices were what defined him.  Not whether or not the people affected were okay with it.

In any case, the Mercury slowly sailed closer to the derelict that was their destination.  Once they came to a stop, one of the crew members tossed the anchor overboard.  It was shaped just like one from a normal, seagoing vessel, but Zeke could feel that its effectiveness was based on mana, rather than the shape’s simple mechanics. 

That was when Tucker approached, his arms wide.  “Impressive, right?” he asked, his voice booming across the deck.  “I told you it was, didn’t I?”

Zeke glanced back at the enormous ship.  The shape was almost a perfect cube and covered with a geometric pattern of grooves that were far deeper than they appeared from afar.  The thing was so large that most of them were as deeply etched as the grand canyon.  Otherwise, the only defining feature was a rotating ring of globes, each one like tiny moons. 

“What do those do?” Zeke asked, pointing to the globes.

Tucker shrugged, then planted his hands on the railing.  “No one knows.  That’s why I wanted to visit this place,” he said.  “The thrill of adventure calls!”

It was obvious that Tucker had planned the expedition because he knew just how bored Zeke had become.  Sitting in the Shatterhold had been interesting at first, but once the novelty had faded, Zeke had begun to sink into a deep depression.  Partly, that was because he couldn’t stop himself from dwelling on the goings-on of the war against the elves, but mostly, it came from his need to keep moving forward.

When Tucker had come to him with the plan, he’d been excited to explore the possibilities of an eons-old relic from a previous age.  And finding out that only greater gods could endure the cube excited him even more. 

“What do they call it?” Zeke asked.

“The Cube.”

Zeke sighed, and when Tucker asked him what was wrong, he admitted, “It’s kind of a disappointing name, right?”

“That’s a translation.  It sounds better in the native tongue of those who named it.”

“Really?  What was it?”

Tucker answered, “Azh’kahal Morikanmian.”

“I like the Cube,” Talia said.  “Simpler is always better.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” Zeke said, his arm over her shoulder.  He pulled her closer, enjoying the warmth of her body.  “Anyone else here capable of enduring it?”

Tucker said, “Not me.  I can’t stick around for more than a few hours.”

“You sound like you’ve tried,” Talia said.

“I might’ve.”

“Of course you did,” she stated, shaking her head.  “Well, I’m not going either.  I don’t want to slow you down.”

“So, it’s just me?”

Apparently, that was the case.  The whole expedition was for him.  So, without further ado, Zeke boarded one of the smaller boats attached to the ship, then set sail across the expanse. 

His first stop was one of the spheres rotating around the cube.  The thing was about a quarter the size of Earth’s moon, which meant that it was only around five hundred miles wide.  Still huge by anyone’s measure, but given the scope of everything else around, it seemed positively tiny. 

When Zeke landed upon it, he found two interesting things.  First, the divine energy encapsulating it was at least as thick as it was within a greater god’s domain.  It reminded him of Mak’tar, at least in terms of strength, though the tone of it was far different.  He couldn’t quite make sense of what it meant, though.

The second aspect was that it was made of some sort of metal that was so densely inscribed that he couldn’t fit a fingernail between the etched lines. 

So, he pulled out his hammer, took on his titanic form, and brought the weapon down in a sledgehammer blow that sent waves divine energy rippling in every direction.  An immense sound – like a ringing bell – tore through his body, bursting his eardrums and turning his insides to jelly. 

He used [Hand of Creation] to counter the wounds, but when he looked down at the moon’s surface, he saw that it hadn’t even been scratched.  Would it stand up to something like [Primordial Wrath]?  Assuredly not.  That skill had destroyed whole planets, and that was while being protected by a greater god’s domain.  Surely this comparatively tiny satellite could not endure such force.

Zeke desperately wanted to find out for certain, but he knew that doing so would be counterproductive.  Not only would it like send him spinning through space, weightless and without any means of controlling where he ended up, but he was also uninterested in destroying such a fascinating relic.

For a while, he continued to investigate the moon, and the most surprising thing he found was that, despite the fact that it was rotating around the Cube at great speeds, it felt like he was sitting still.  Meanwhile, it seemed that everything else moved around him.  Odd, how the perspective could affect his perception so much.

After a few hours, he mounted the boat and sailed to the next moon.  Then the next.  And the next after that.  He kept going until he’d seen all of them up close and personal.  That view gave him some insight into how they differed. 

For the most part, they were identical.  If they were even a foot different in size, he would have been incredibly surprised, but they were also made of the exact same material.  The only difference that he could see was that they each held a different pattern of engravings.

And he suspected that was why they felt different.

The divine energy they emitted was extremely similar, but different enough that Zeke felt confident in saying that it was like different flavors of the same thing.  But beyond that, he couldn’t discern any defining characteristics.

Frustrating, but expected.  After all, if eons had passed and no one had discovered the secrets of the Cube, it was unlikely that Zeke would.  Still, he found it all incredibly interesting, and he resolved to discover everything he could.  Without further hesitation, he once again mounted the boat and sailed toward the Cube itself.  Perhaps a closer inspection of that structure might help him discern some of its secrets.

Or at least function as a distraction from his real problems.  Either way, it would be mission accomplished.