Chapter 213: Unworthy

    Hysteria flipped the chalkboard over, revealing a cartoonish image of a castle.

    “A disaster like an earthquake is a classic example of an external threat with well-defined boundaries,” they said. The castle cracked down the middle, then crumbled. “In this example, ‘nature’ is the external threat. It originates from outside of the society itself. It is also easy to establish a clear beginning and end to such a disaster since it’s over once the ground stops shaking.

    “People tend to rally together against external threats, and when the threat has a clear beginning and end, their response is typically well-organized.” A swarm of people crawled over the castle, rebuilding it. Once finished, the castle was larger and sturdier-looking. “In many instances, a society is stronger after conquering an external, well-defined threat.”

    Hysteria flipped the board again, revealing a cartoonish depiction of a man asleep in a large four-post bed. Another man stood over them, wearing a dark mask and wielding a fine dagger. A crown popped into existence over the sleeping man, who was promptly stabbed by the intruder.

    “Insofar as murder is concerned, a political assassination can either be external–such as an assassin from a foreign nation–or internal–such as with an overeager heir to the throne. Either way, it also typically has a well-defined boundary, which is the death of the targeted individual...”

    Hysteria rattled on while I loosely observed the shadow on the ceiling. Rule 28 required me to look at Hysteria while they were talking, which meant I could only watch the shadow from the corner of my eye.

    Several rules were exceptions to Rule 28 and allowed me to look at something other than Hysteria while the avatar spoke, but they were all conditional. Rule 29 allowed me to look judgingly at the person Hysteria was speaking to if the avatar was shaming them. Rule 30 let me look at my own feet if Hysteria was shaming me. Rule 31 told me to cross my arms and glare at anyone who’d tried to shame Hysteria while the avatar defended themself from the attempted shaming.

    There were more, but in short, none of them applied. I couldn’t look directly at the shadow, which made it more difficult to be certain of what it was.

    Most of the rules in the 100 range involved identifying and pointing out threats, but Hysteria’s express commands took precedence over the default commands. Since many of the rules that would require me to warn Hysteria contemplated those warnings being given verbally, I felt comfortable that my current instruction to “shut up” overrode them. Additionally, Rule 3 was “Don’t bring Hysteria problems, bring Hysteria solutions,” and I had no idea how to present a gestural ‘solution’ to whatever problem the shadow might present.

    Again, I couldn’t look at the shadow, so I couldn’t even say for sure that it was a problem. I suspected that it would become a very big problem, but Rule 16 was “Stay positive,” so I decided it would work itself out.

    Hysteria’s rules were more like a shitty office code of conduct than a meticulously prepared set of mind control conditionals.

    Way too many of the rules gave the target discretion to make their own judgments, half of them read like junk that had been thrown in on a whim and never edited back out, and half of those sounded like they were added just to scare people.

    For example:

    Rule 379: When in the presence of a fairy, act as though the fairy does not exist.

    Rule 380: If a fairy interacts with you in a way that produces an observable phenomenon, seek an alternative explanation for the phenomenon and loudly state that this alternative is responsible for the phenomenon. DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE THE FAIRY.

    Rule 380 Hypothetical: A fairy stabs you in the kidney. Solution: You walk into your kitchen and declare that you should be more careful when using the chef’s knife you recently sharpened. Seek medical treatment. Ignore the fairy.

    Rule 381: Never reference or discuss any Rule that involves fairies.

    There were no rules on how to determine whether something was a fairy.

    I half-suspected that Hysteria had gotten on a fairy’s bad side in the past and this group of rules was somehow added without the avatar’s knowledge. Too bad I couldn’t discuss the fairy rules, or I might have pointed out as much. Then again, an infiltrator fairy wasn’t a very positive thought and I didn’t have a nonverbal solution to the problem, so it didn’t matter.

    If a fairy was just a tiny woman with magical powers, then the person in the shadow might count. They weren’t usually tiny, even though their shadow was currently quite small. They had magical powers, but it was too much of a stretch. I knew they weren’t really a woman. In fact, they were currently a short line of text on the ceiling. Hysteria paused to ponder something they’d written on the chalkboard, and I glanced up at the words.

    Tears after fist.

    Kind of cryptic. Rule 117 required me to report any attempts made to recruit me to work against Hysteria, but the text wasn’t asking me to do anything in particular. I assumed it was a line from a happy poem–potentially one left there by a mysterious fairy–and ignored it. The shadow faded, leaving the sport where it had been a little darker than normal.

    “If the assassin is an internal agent,” said Hysteria, “it’s much more difficult for people to rally together since they are confronting an element within their own society. Such an event may be less spectacular than the earthquake, but it will result in greater emotional disruption or–at the very least–more permanent disruption. Whoever inherits the throne will be viewed with suspicion and trust in the existing power structures will erode. But, people will generally carry on about their lives once it’s over. The threat was superficially internal, but it’s so remote from a normal individual that it may as well be treated as an external threat. That is, a threat originating from a different class of person, the noble class.”

    Hysteria’s words drilled into my brain, creating an uncomfortable buzzing in my thoughts. I felt like the avatar was saying more than what the words implied. The corners of the ceiling grew a shade darker.

    The crown above the cartoon man disappeared, and the posts on the bed shrank away. The sleeping man was now wearing a tattered nightcap, and the invader had a large kitchen knife.

    Buster pointed a shriveling finger at me while continuing to scowl at Hysteria.

    “Their lives are mine to reap,” he said.

    “Not anymore,” said Hysteria.

    “We have a contract,” said Buster, his voice becoming dry and raspy. “Our service for the heads of those who slew our kin.”

    “We did,” said Hysteria. “But that was before I changed my mind.”

    “Why did you need these guys anyway?” asked Xim.

    “The same reason people hire janitors,” said Hysteria. “I could take out the trash, but I’d rather someone else do it.”

    “You would violate our bargain?” said Buster, his entire body starting to shrivel.

    “Hello? What bargain?” said Hysteria. “Do you see the king of Hiward anywhere? Because I don’t. And where’s the Zenithar, hmm?”

    As Buster’s body deflated, blood poured out from every hole in the man’s head. It was gross enough to distract me from how shady the ceiling had become.

    “We delivered the packages,” he gurgled. “You are the one who lost them.”

    “You were supposed to help me keep them!”

    “After delivery, our only obligation was to make...” Buster took a wet, rattling breath. “...‘best efforts’ to assist you.”

    “Oh, we’re arguing semantics now?” said Hysteria. “How about this? I agreed to give you the opportunity for vengeance. I did that, and three members of your team got demoted to fertilizer. All that you’ve given me is a front-row seat to your humiliation. Now you wanna cry blood about it?”

    “Yourgh ighterghference ghwill oorght staughndd. I grhullghrubblingh...”

    By this point, I was having difficulty making out what Buster was saying. It was more gargling than speech.

    Hysteria snapped their fingers twice more. “I said stop it! If and when I’d like you to summon a blood god, I’ll let you know.” Hysteria shot me a look. “Seriously kid, what kind of fucked up karma do you have?”

    Xim sighed and rubbed at her forehead. I wanted to defend myself. Assuming what Xim had said about me was true, if anyone summoned a blood god I’d be fully capable of wrangling it. Sadly, being stripped of my most potent weapon, I could only roll my eyes.

    When the corpses began to meld into the mass of blood in front of Buster, the avatar looked down at their digits, confused.

    “Why is everyone so difficult to control today?” they asked.

    “Because you’ve chosen your victims poorly, brother,” a woman’s voice echoed through the chamber.

    The avatar’s head shot up, and the colors on their skeleton squirmed. The ceiling above grew even darker, until it became clear that Avarice’s shadow had encompassed its entire surface.

    There was a sound of ticking gears and clinking metal as a towering figure looked down at us from within the shadow. Its eyes lit up with an internal heat.

    “Is that a Deiphage Golem?” asked Hysteria. “Where the fuck did you get–”

    A bronze fist the width of a train car crashed down onto Hysteria so fast it looked like it had teleported into the room.