Stormblade 4 C54: Blackout (2)

54 - Blackout (2)

I’d experienced my first deviation during the madcap push to C-Rank, in the God of Thunder’s portal world.

That wasn’t entirely true, though. That deviation had been latent since the moment I bonded with Cheddar; the familiar hadn’t been meant for me.

He should have been Ellen’s, and when I bonded with him, the Law of the Godray had found a place in my core. That Law had later transformed under, I assumed, Ellen’s presence within my Law-Learning processes, becoming the Law of Stormlight.

The Law of the Godray was simple: there was always another storm. I remembered the moment I’d had that Law turned on me by the God of Thunder—it had been during my push to D-Rank. He’d tested my makeshift fortress with the power of Stormbreak, throwing a fraction of his power against me just when I’d become comfortable.

The deviation had come later. The Laws of Stormlight. It was brightest before the darkest clouds. Silver linings deceive. A flash of light casts infinite shadow. Those deviations had manifested as Cheddar’s stormlight scales, his sun-and-cloud powers, and his increases in power.

But they’d been deviations all the same, and the God of Thunder had ‘allowed’ them rather than embracing them.

And they weren’t the only deviations.

Shadowstorm Battery had brought power—the power of Dual Skill Progression, and of a fifth skill with S-Rank potential. But its very existence represented a deliberate step away from the Stormsteel Path. I’d accepted that power during the journey to Carlsbad Fortress with the convoy, linking my skill to Ellen’s identical one in an attempt to gain more power. It had been worthwhile. The Shadowstorm Battery offered huge amounts of Mana regeneration, further patching what was both Ellen’s biggest weakness and mine.

But, in this moment, those linked and merged skills were a weakness. I couldn’t increase its rank without her, and even if I could, going through the process could compromise her core. I was stuck. Granted, I wasn’t stuck any worse than I would be without Ellen and Dual Skill Progression, but even so, I was stuck.

The two Laws of the Hungering Abyss that we’d managed to learn so far stated that the void hungers and the void removes. The hunger was simple. It was a part of my core, a low-grade hunger. So was the removal. Just like Ellen’s Shadow Box skill, the void excised reality.

And then there was the third deviation.

In a roundabout way, Stormbreak itself had actually been my first deviation—and the toughest skill for me to understand. I’d started both on and off the Stormsteel Path, and only the strange core that had powered my first merge and my self-destructive, suicidal attempt to defeat Queen Mother Yalerox had corrected that paradox.

Perhaps in recognition of that, the Laws of the Unbroken Storm felt different than any other set of Laws. 

Rather than being fundamental truths about the Stormsteel Path and the storm, the three Laws I’d learned so far increased my understanding of Stormbreak’s power—and of its demands. The Stormsteel Path, after all, was as hungry as the void, and far more immediate a threat to me. To wield Stormbreak required devotion, dedication, and sacrifice. To walk the Stormsteel Path with it would demand all I had to give.

Ever since my core was reforged, I’d been growing more comfortable with the physical and spiritual demands of using Stormbreak, but every time I’d used it, I’d still feared it.

Part of me always would.

But during my second fight with Deborah Callahan, something had shifted. I didn’t fear Stormbreak’s demands like I would an implacable force of nature anymore. Now, I feared it like a carpenter feared a table saw. It could hurt me—or the people I cared about—but it was also a tool, and with that tool, I could build something to protect those same people.

None of these Laws was truly fundamental to how I fought.

All three served only to supplement the kernel of truth I’d found—that the storm inside of me raged, but that I guided it.

And all three were, nevertheless, critical to my understanding of the Stormsteel Path. They, together, could turn that truth into something I could test against the Stormsteel Path—or even against the God of Thunder.

◄▼►

Eugene, the God of Thunder, had cleared his schedule.

Forcibly.

Several lesser Paragons’ realms winked out of existence, one after another, as he returned to his own portal world, wrath and fury in his eyes.

Magda’s wasn’t among them. It should have been—the Paragon of the Sliding Surge had been honest with him about her intent to betray him, to hurt him, and to serve her master in all things. Brutally honest. He should have left her A-Ranked world scorched and defiled, and her dying slowly enough that she’d be ejected when it finally died around her.

But he hadn’t—and he hadn’t struck out against the Placid King, either.

The God of Thunder was a coward.

No. That wasn’t true. He’d simply invested in Magda, and even though she hadn’t been lying about her intentions this time, that investment could still bear fruit. It had little to do with their core bond and everything to do with ascension.

Ascension was all that mattered—both for him and for his rival, the Placid King. Even the Crone built her entire existence around ascension, though in her case, it was about putting it off and delaying her exit from this reality. But for most Paragons, the moment they reached S-Rank and forged their portal world, the limits of this reality crushed down on them like a ball and chain, and ascending became everything.

And the God of Thunder was close.

If the Placid King wished to destroy his pupil and set his ascension back, the least Eugene could do was return the favor.

He thrashed in frustration, his lightning body lashing back and forth to the sound of crashing thunder. The God of Thunder could no more make his presence felt in the Solo Portal than the Placid King could, and all he could truly do was watch as Kade fought.

Then something shifted.

The fighting was over, and Kade was…

Kade was beginning his attempt at S-Rank!

He’d hoped that the Solo Portal could push Kade all the way, but he hadn’t truly dared to believe. It was the only way for Kade to turn the tables on the Placid King’s servants inside that trap of a portal. It was the only way to give the Placid King a black eye and set his plans for ascension back—all-important, given that the underwater Paragon’s plan required Eugene’s death.

And, as an afterthought, it would also save Eugene a rather unique investment in his plans for ascension and deliver Kade to him all but gift-wrapped for consumption.

Ascension awaited, and Eugene watched with bated breath as Kade composed his addition to the Stormsteel Path.

The God of Thunder was certain it would be a worthy final step for the kid.

And for him.

◄▼►

The storm inside of me raged, and I guided that rage.

It raged at the Placid King. His machinations had killed Angelo Lawrence. His power had strengthened the Carlsbad Portal into an existential threat. His power threatened to kill the God of Thunder—to kill me and leave Ellen, Jeff, and Jessie alone.

It raged at Quellat and the Craftsman. They were merely servants of the Placid King, but they still deserved my wrath—just as Deborah Callahan had in her last few frantic minutes.

But it didn’t stop with my enemies.

I carefully guided the storm away from its main target, the God of Thunder. He had as much of a stake in the game of ascension as any of the other SS-Plus-Ranked Paragons. He’d put together just as sinister and horrific a machine as the Placid King had. The only difference was that, while the Placid King’s mechanism for ascension was either impersonal or targeting other players of his game, Eugene’s plan required him to betray his allies—and his friends. He’d made no secret of it, but even so, that betrayal would break a fundamental promise between master and pupil.

The storm inside me raged. But I didn’t allow its rage against Eugene to build.

I wanted to. I was close to being powerful enough to hurt him. That was what I did with bullies, and on some level, the God of Thunder was a bully.

But Eugene…

I didn’t want to hurt Eugene.

Why not? Why was I guiding my rage away from him? That felt like the crux of understanding how to take the Truth I’d shaped out of the storm into something that others could learn to advance themselves down the Stormsteel Path. So, what was different about Eugene? Why was he unworthy of my wrath?

As the storm thundered away overhead, flooding the desert around me, my thoughts spiraled through wrath and rage—and toward something familiar.

Jessie and I had moved out of Dad’s house right away. There hadn’t been enough of it left; it had been wood-framed, not concrete, and it hadn’t survived Stormbreak. We’d spent a week in a hotel, then another in a smaller, dingier one as I fought with grief, Stormbreak, and the powers that didn’t want to leave a fourteen-year-old girl with her brother, whether it was what was best for her or not.

Whether I’d promised her father I’d take care of her or not.

So, I’d spent some of Dad’s hard-earned money on a suit that fit, and I’d shown up for every court date. Jessie’s medical conditions had been laid painfully bare before the attorneys and judges. Dad’s death had been picked over with a fine-toothed comb. And, with every minute the courts dragged out their ruling on my sister’s fate, my rage had grown.

Most of Dad’s money had gone into a legal team that, eventually, had won the case for us. He’d been as wealthy as any other C-Rank delver, but it had all been tied up in his gear and Jessie’s treatments, and I hadn’t been…able…to sell his stuff. His armor was too damaged to salvage or sell, too—it was nothing more than scrap by the time the monsters were done with it, and his sword was…it was still under my bed. So, when we’d won the case, and Jessie and I had stayed together, it hadn’t been enough for more than a small apartment—and even then, only for ten months. We’d stretched it to twelve, but it had been all we could do.

I’d been angry, then. Full of rage at the way Phoenix treated its orphans, at the portal monsters, and at my own awakened system for giving me a skill like Stormbreak.

But my promise to Jessie had been stronger than my anger. I’d had to master it, just as I’d had to master it after my fight with Ian. When rage and my promises were in conflict, my promises had to take priority.

And when rage and my promises aligned…

Pain.

Even the echoes of my core’s cracking and shattering sent waves of agony through me. I’d suffered harder, physically, than I ever had before, for those few minutes between the moment my core broke and the moment I’d used Stormbreak to end the Eye of the Storm and Queen Mother Yalerox. That wasn’t the only time I’d aligned my rage and my promises, either.

Deborah. Bob Traynor. The decision to leave Ellen behind and join with the S-Ranker for this assault, and the moment I defeated the boss deep inside the Fallen Delver’s Portal and brought the shade of my stepfather back to Earth. Every one of those moments was one where my word and my wrath worked together.

The moment I’d betrayed Jeff had been the last moment I’d willingly broken a promise. It had been the last moment I’d allowed my wrath to be stronger than my word.

I sat, watching the storm overhead and the metal bands of my core beyond it, and let my mind clear. The rage wasn’t helpful right now. I’d have time for it soon. Quellat and the Craftsman. The Placid King. Even, inevitably, the God of Thunder. All of them were worthy targets for my rage. But right now, none of those fights helped me keep my oaths, so none of them mattered.

The storm’s rough edges pared away as Nimbus Edge sliced through everything that didn’t fit with my vision of the Stormsteel Path—complete with the deviations that made me different than the God of Thunder. Not only because I used the Laws of Stormlight, the Hungering Abyss, and the Unbroken Storm, but because I was fundamentally different from the Paragon of the Stormsteel Path. And, eventually, the shape of my Truth turned into something I could add to the Stormsteel Path.

The Thesis of the Stormblade

Through rage and through wrath, the storm fulfills its promises.

I nearly took the opportunity to do it. To bring the Law of the Stormblade to the Stormsteel Path, add it to the chain of stepping stones I’d followed, and ascend to S-Rank.

Instead, I hesitated.

And in that moment of hesitation, I received a message.

The Stormsteel Core awakens. Prepare yourself.