In the Midst of Callousness 5

In the Midst of Callousness
Chapter 5

-VB-

August 28th, 1999

While the Factory produced weapons of war I needed, several of my clones operated something more devious on the side.

See, Earth Bet was different. It took me some time to understand that.

I, someone who had prepared myself mentally to go to Remnant, realized this because of how … absurd Earth Bet was compared to Remnant or my original Earth.

The main difference beyond the obvious was the attitude of the people.

Warlords, villains, heroes, and aggressive governments were the norm and have been the norm for almost three decades. In places like Ireland and the United States of America, the general destabilizing effects of parahumans have not been felt as badly because either they were far from the center of the stage like the former or carefully managed to a fault like in the case of the latter.

The same could not said about anywhere else in Earth Bet.

With the economic fallout from Leviathan’s active disruption of long distance international shipping, all three countries of East Asia - Chinese United Imperium, Unified Koreas, and Japan - all fell into a slump as they were all export dependent nations. Sure, they could trade with each other and maybe as far south as Indonesia, but their main trading partners in Europe and Americas could no longer bolster their economic growth, and what growth they had fell apart as parahumans began to exert their influence in a disruptive manner.

So what did all of that economic decline lead to?

Well, as people got fired from jobs, businesses closed, and families began to starve, more parahumans began to rise.

In fact, it’s been less than three years since the CUI came to be, and it’s been less than two years since they conquered Taiwan.

It sucked for the last remnant of the National Party of China, but the truth of the matter was that even the USA was not in a position to help them nor did they care.

After all, Taiwan incapable of exporting their goods was a Taiwan that didn’t help anyone, and the people turned their backs on them.

This was the truth of Earth Bet. If you weren’t useful, then you were tossed aside. If you weren’t good, then you were a waste of space. It was an attitude that had grown out of desperation and hard times as the old and new generations saw a world in decline.

In this declining world, people sought hope. Some found it in the Protectorate, the four shining heroes of America, and the organization of other heroes they founded. Some found it in the opportunities they saw in the desperation of others.

Some found no hope at all.

That’s where I came in.

I had clones operating all over the Anglosphere and beyond. See, if teleporters used “aggressively,” then they counted as weapons as far as my Tinker power and the Factory was concerned. Aggressively here could mean a lot of things, but if, let’s say, I constantly played mean “pranks” with it, as in anyone I teleported had to fall like ten yards before splashing into ice-cold water, then the teleporter always worked.

Honestly, it was a weird limit, being able to make only “weapons” with my Tinker power, but I managed.

I digressed.

The teleporters I manufactured with the Factory were how I got around the entire world. Mostly because my “pranks” were dangerous enough to be considered a form of weaponry.

So what did I do with my teleporters, clones, and the disillusioned and outright hopeless population?

I made a cult.

-VB-

Specifically speaking, I made a pseudo-religious cult whose primary purpose was to pass on my Aura so that the people could form Auras of their own while using my powers, Tinkertech, and pseudo-religious rituals to ensure that the method of unlocking someone’s aura was kept secret for as long as possible.

Why was I doing this?

To have an army, of course!

See, having a WMD wasn’t enough in Earth Bet. If I didn’t have some kind of a power base, then the major players in Earth Bet might just take a stab at me.

Of course, I kept a “low” profile so far by playing the impactful but ultimately “negligible” villain. No one suspects a nomadic villain constantly targeting unfair prejudices and bullies to be building a secret tinkertech weapons manufactory and cult, after all.

This was why one of my clones in Syria stood in a recently furnished cave, draped from head to toe in Roman red and face unveiled for all to see. The followers of my cult, the Cult of Inner Spirit, knelt before me as the latest inductee made her way towards the back of the cave where I stood on top of a raised platform.

The caramel young woman, no more than twenty, shakily made her way forward. Each of her steps echoed in the caves while the candle she held in her hands flickered.

She passed by rows and rows of my supplicants, each envious and overjoyed by one of their own’s “ascension.” To have their soul revealed for the world to see. To become more. To ascend.

I knew that the majority of the cultists were religious. Many of them were Muslims. Many of them were Christians. Among them, I knew that a few even considered me to be saintly or a prophet. I didn’t correct them, because, if I was being honest, I didn’t know whether or not God used me for his plans.

I focused back on the woman as she arrived at the base of the platform and knelt.

“Alma,” I/my clone spoke up. “We welcome you once again to our house.”

She bowed. “I-I thank you.”

“Come. Stand upon the stage,” I said as I leaned down with a hand outstretched.

She looked up, not fearful but definitely uncertain, as she slowly took my hand. I helped her up and brought her to the center of the stage.

A clone kneeling with the rest of the supplicants but also disguised as one of them subtly activated a sound barrier.

“You are afraid.”

She looked at me.

“Be honest, dear. You fear that the ascension ritual involves some kind of sexual act like so many other cults do out there.”

Watery-eyed, she nodded but still held onto my hand.

“Then be happy because there is no such thing nor will I allow it to happen,” I said as I held up my other hand.

The clone in the crowd saw the other clone’s gesture and activated the second sound barrier, cutting the speaker clone off from the rest of the cave.

I placed a hand on Alma’s forehead as she squeezed her eyes close.

“In this world of hopelessness

I call upon thee to rise above your helplessness

To see with eyes unclouded

To rise on your feet unimpeded

I charge you to be bold

So that the world may behold

May you see through it all whole

And I release your soul!”

Alma lit up with light as her aura activated and I grimaced a little as my aura dropped by half.

I staggered a little and the clone in the crowd quickly undid the sound barriers.

Alma and the other supplicants quickly moved in to support me, and I waved them away as I regained my footing.

“How do you feel, dear?” I asked her instead, holding her hands.

She stared at me in awe as she felt her aura, and soon began to cry.

I laughed and let her cry as the rest of the cultists in the room rose up and cheered for the ascension of one of their own.

This was how you’re supposed to make a cult.

With power and passion.