57 Dragonstruck

I stared at the spot where Sasha’s ghostly body flickered.

The implications of her revelation were a cascade of impossibilities, a mathematical proof that reality was far more broken and also far more interesting than I had ever conceived.

“You’re a copy… of me?” Kliss repeated with a frown.

“An entropic echo of another copy of your soul, yes,” Sasha affirmed. “Well, more like bits and pieces of copies of copies that remained after I destroyed reality. A thing that came together naturally because the Astral Ocean remembers all magic.”

“You destroyed reality?” I asked.

“Kinda?” Sasha shrugged. “Destroyed it and didn’t destroy it. A whole bunch of realities in which I was present, long ago. It all worked out. More or less.”

“Slava, can you check any of this nonsense with your skills?” The dragon girl asked. “I can sense that she’s being honest… but I’d like you to figure this out because I clearly don’t have enough mental capacity to process this insanity.”

“Let me check,” I said as Sasha smiled at us with that same unnerving, cheeky smile.

Sasha’s claims were grandiose, her nature slippery and ill-defined.

My mind accelerated as I delved back into the [[[Love]]] binding, the triangular anchor that now tethered our three consciousnesses. I didn’t need a complex new spell. The framework was already there. I thought of the work of Soviet physicists Leonid Mandelstam and Nikolai Papaleksi on non-linear oscillations. They had demonstrated that even chaotic systems could exhibit underlying resonance if the right frequencies were applied.

If Sasha was truly an Astral echo of souls similar to Kliss, then despite their opposing entropic and syntropic natures, their fundamental ‘soul-frequency’ should resonate. They should be two sides of the same harmonic coin.

I focused on the binding and sent a very carefully calibrated pulse of inquiry through the connection, a mathematical query structured like a wave function, designed to seek harmonic coherence.

The fractal of our binding flared in Neurovista.

The result was instantaneous and staggering. Between Kliss and Sasha, the connection didn’t just flicker; it sang. It was a perfect, almost impossibly pure harmonic resonance. A wave and its inverted reflection, creating a perfect standing wave of absolute stability between two diametrically opposed states.

[Hrm. I feel… whatever you’re doing,] Kliss thought at me.

[She’s definitely you,] I let out. [An Astral-Ocean echo of you. That’s why the triangle is so stable. She’s a copy of you, one that really has no right to exist but does. One that should be decaying to nothing, but doesn’t because she’s endless.]

[Not exactly like me, but… like an inverted shadow of my own soul,] Kliss agreed. [A sad, unending… lonely song of eternity, of loss… of darkness, decay, change.]

[There you go,] Sasha said. [Now that we’ve established our… familial bond. I do believe it’s time we addressed a pressing issue.]

“Which is?” I asked.

[My current lack of corporeality,] Sasha replied. [It’s dreadfully inconvenient. I’d like fingers and toes and a brain to have feelings with. I believe it’s high time you procured me a body.]

“Which body?” Kliss looked at Sasha. “From where?”

[Oh, nothing complicated,] Sasha mused. [I believe the local Vulfix Arcanicx will do nicely. Ciaori Sestii. She has a rather… robust physical form.]

“What?” Kliss bristled.

[An Arcanicx soul is conveniently full of holes for me to infest.] Sasha added. [On the account that the Arcanicx were designed by the previous Keymaker, Slava should have no issues innately modding their souls and bodies with Omnicode.]

“I don’t do things innately,” I crossed my arms. “I do things precisely and scientifically.”

[Sure, sure.] Sasha rolled her silver-blue eyes. [We should do it soon before whatever love and stability you’ve managed to establish in me decays away.]

[The current you can decay?] I asked. [Doesn’t the binding reinforce you?]

[It does, but I’m also incredibly entropic. The triangle allows me to exist not as a virus but as an individual. However, this individuality is already decaying away into pure, bubbling madness of Infinity,] Sasha said. [Which is why it’s very convenient that we have a powerful Arcanicx on hand. See how well I’ve organized these things? Praise me.]

[Organized it?] I squinted at her.

[Roll the dice enough times and success is guaranteed,] she winked at me. [It’s how evolution works. Come on, lets go claim that Arcanicx. You can use the [monster>human] converter on her, make me a body, assure continuous sanity and my permanence by your side.]

The sheer audacity of her suggestion left me momentarily speechless.

[You want us to… what? Hijack her body?] I asked. [Hang on. If her soul is full of holes… your presence would cause it to decay even more, to melt away like ice in a furnace, make her body decay rapidly, turn you into a ghoul.]

[An engineering problem, not an existential one,] Sasha countered. [And you, Slava, are an excellent engineer. You can figure it out. Think about it—what powers the fox?]

I opened my mouth, but then Sasha’s words, ignited my mind akin to Cherenkov radiation.

Ciaori’s Champions. They weren’t just guards; they were anchors, syntropic batteries feeding her physical form, stabilizing her, amplifying her magic.

“The network…” I murmured. “Her Champions… they form a stabilizing network.”

[Precisely,] Sasha affirmed. [A distributed system for syntropic reinforcement. Sort of like Kobolds. All you need to do is… co-opt what’s there… at the moment of her death.]

My mind began to race, spinning the problem in my head.

I suddenly thought of Nikolai Bernstein.

In the 1930s, Bernstein had studied the biomechanics of motor control, proposing that the brain didn’t control individual muscles but rather coordinated “synergies”—functional groupings that worked together to solve a specific task. He had solved the “degrees of freedom problem,” showing how a complex system could be managed through hierarchical control.

Could I apply the same principle to magic? Create a spell—a Synergistic Control Hexagram—that could hijack the command structure of Ciaori’s Champion network? Instead of trying to control each Champion individually, I could seize control of the central ‘synergy’ that coordinated them, draw power from all of them at the same time.

[There you go,] Sasha commented. [You’re getting it. Technically, it’s impossible to kill that fox, because she can draw power from her champions and heal herself. But you can hijack the entire healing process while it happens, redirect energy into your lovely converter with which you’ve made Kliss a new body.]

I began sketching the fractal in Neurovista—a complex, multi-layered structure based on Bernstein’s principles of motor synergy. It was a spell designed not to create or destroy, but to redirect, to repurpose an existing system. It was audacious, dangerous, and theoretically possible.

[I’ll need time,] I voiced to Sasha. [And more data on how her network functions.]

[Then I suggest we get more data, right now,] Sasha replied. [I believe we have a breakfast appointment.]

The morning sun streamed through the panoramic window of the Golden Harpoon, illuminating the fine dust motes dancing in the air. The restaurant was quieter now during early morning breakfast hours.

Ciaori was a vision of cheerful vulpine charm, her orange fur practically glowing as she sat down across from us.

As we ordered breakfast and began chewing on it, she regaled us with another story about a particularly troublesome three-headed cheetah-flamingo as a waiter, the same muscular merman from the night before, brought us a platter of steaming pastries and a pot of fragrant tea.

“So,” Ciaori said, taking a bite of a croissant. “Did you two lovebirds sleep well in my finest suite?”

“It was… nice,” Kliss replied. She was eyeing the merman waiter. “Your staff is remarkably… capable.”

“Only the best for my establishments,” Ciaori beamed. “My Champions are the finest in all of Agamemnon. Hand-picked and bound them myself. Loyal, strong, and utterly devoted. It takes a delicate touch to manage so many, of course.”

[Ask her how,] I prompted Kliss as I scanned the network of Ciaori’s connections to her champions, unraveling it in my mind with Neurovista.

“I’m impressed,” Kliss said, leaning forward slightly. “I have just one Champion of my own, but managing an entire network of them this scale? It must be a tremendous drain on your mind.”

Ciaori chuckled. “It’s all about experience, my dear Elly. A centralized command structure is inefficient. One must create… redundancies. Overlapping fields of influence. Each Champion reinforces the others, creating a web of stability. It’s a work of art, really. I’m certain that in time you’ll learn to do the same, once you collect enough human males and bind them to yourself.”

[She’s describing a decentralized control system,] I thought, the pieces of Bernstein’s theories slotting into place with the words of the fox. My Synergistic Control Hexagram was already evolving in my mind, becoming more refined, more targeted.

[See? She has no idea we’re plotting to steal her body,] Sasha flickered nearby like a silver, diresome cloud. [It’s almost too easy.]

I ignored her, focusing on the conversation. Kliss was getting better at pretending to be a young Arcanicx, her questions probing.

“And this mage you mentioned yesterday,” Kliss said, casually steering the conversation. “The one causing you trouble. Has he been… difficult to deal with?”

Ciaori’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly. “He’s a nuisance. A human Artificer named Lysander, holed up in an old tower twenty clicks east. Thinks he’s some great protector of humanity, messing with my supply lines, disrupting my Champion recruitment. He’s clever, I’ll give him that.”

“An annoyance how?” Kliss asked. “Why can’t your Champions throw rocks at his tower from far away or something?”

“There’s a barrier shield that repels attacks from afar. And up close… once the golems come out, there’s a potent Charisma field on each that screws with my champion control.” The fox took a sip of her tea. “I believe that a Dracanix immune to magical attacks should have no trouble with the Charisma field and a few stone golems. I need you to go to his tower, bypass his defenses, and… persuade him to cease his operations. Permanently.”

Kliss’s gaze met mine for a fraction of a second, a silent question passing between us.

[Sure, let’s accept.] I commented, distracted by my work in the Champion>Arcanicx energy hijacking spell. [Get a map.]

“Consider it done,” Kliss said with a fake smile. She picked up a pastry, chewing on it thoughtfully. “I’ll handle your… Lysander problem, Ciaori. Can I get a map of the terrain?”

Ciaori’s grin returned in full force as she pulled a map out from a side bag and offered it to Kliss who pretended to examine it. “Excellent! I knew I could count on you, Elly. You’re a natural. When you return, we’ll discuss the specifics of your reward. A smaller chariot of your own? Perhaps a tour of my private menagerie? I have some fascinating specimens I think you’d appreciate.”

The unspoken promise of more power, more hoarded treasures, hung in the air. For a moment, I saw the fire of Aradria flicker in Kliss’s eyes, the raw, insatiable hunger of the dragon.

[Kill her,] Sasha said, stepping around the fox, myriads of silver-blue eyes blossoming across her ghostly visage.

[What?] Kliss glanced at the Astral Virus.

[Give her a hug as a thanks for being such a goodly big sister and punch her through the heart,] Sasha plowed on like a freight train with no breaks. [She’s relaxed. She won’t be able to stop you.]

Kliss’s hand trembled ever so slightly where it rested on the table.

I sensed that her human half was hesitating, weighing the consequences, searching for a path that didn’t end in violence. But the dragon within, awakened and hungry, saw only a challenge and a prize to be won, a problem to be eliminated, a chariot to be claimed once it’s owner was dead.

[What’s the problem, little dragon?] Sasha asked. [She is a threat. One who must be neutralized and utilized.]

Kliss frowned mentally, her thoughts a tangled knot. [Now?]

[Yes, now. Come on, find a reason to ignite that dragonfire in your heart, darling,] Sasha suggested simply. [Ask her. Ask her how many troublesome humans a successful Incursion Strategist had to… prune to take power.]

I felt the shift in Kliss, the flicker of her human morality seizing upon the justification. It was a dangerous path, a rationalization that could lead her down a darker road, but Sasha had presented it as a righteous inquiry, one that tugged at the heartstrings of the ex-Imperial Overseer.

Kliss took a slow sip of tea, her movements betraying none of the turmoil I felt raging through our connection. She placed the cup down with a delicate click. “Say,” she began, “Ciaori, how many pesky humans did you have to eliminate to secure Agamemnon?”

Ciaori burst into a peal of delighted, tinkling laughter, waving a dismissive paw. “Oh, honey, I stopped counting after the first few hundred.” She leaned forward. “The recruitment purges were particularly… thorough. Thousands, I suppose? They breed like rabbits, honestly. A necessary pruning to ensure the health of the garden. You can’t make a beautiful omelet without breaking a few thousand useless eggs, can you?”

That was it. The final switch, the motivation the dragon girl needed.

The casual cruelty, the utter dismissal of thousands of lives as nothing more than inconvenient eggs to be broken, shattered the last remnants of Kliss’s human restraint. The Overseer vanished, consumed by the righteous, possessive fury of the dragon.

“How wonderful,” Kliss smiled, slipping the map into her side bag, but there was no love behind it, only pure hatred. “How about a hug before I depart to slay the pesky human mage?”

“Of course,” the fox leaned down, opening her hands wide and embracing the dragon girl.

I felt it before I saw it—a surge of pure syntropic power, a silent detonation of will. Kliss’s eyes became twin supernovas of burning orange and gold. The air around her hand shimmered, not with sparks, but with the raw distortion of reality itself as she pulled power from her hoard in Skyisle.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, she struck Ciaori with her left hand, burning through the gold covering her skin, her fist igniting with dragonfire.

Her hand, no longer merely flesh and bone but a conduit for a dragon’s heart, moved forward, cast [Destruction].

It didn’t punch; it pierced. It passed, burned through Ciaori’s chest as if the Vulfix were made of smoke, leaving no wound, no blood, only a shimmering, incandescent hole of pure, unmaking energy.

The fox’s eyes went wide, her mouth gasping as she died.

Power poured into the fox from her hundreds of Champions, attempting to heal her body.

My Neurovista kicked in, stretching that single, catastrophic moment into a subjective eternity. I was an observer in a photograph of chaos. The teacup Ciaori had let go of hung suspended in the air, its escaping contents a perfect, frozen arc. A shocked expression was frozen on her face, her orange eyes wide with a surprise that would never have time to register as pain. The syntropic fury from Kliss’s hand was expanding, not like an explosion, but like a crystalline lattice growing at the speed of light, disassembling the Vulfix’s heart, shearing right through the Arcanicx woman.

Champions rushed towards the Arcanicx, moving rapidly to defend their mistress. They were slower than my Neurovista, however.

I saw the silver-violet threads of her soul, the porous network that made her an Arcanicx, begin to fray and dissolve under the onslaught of pure, orderly destruction. The network of her Champions, a vast, invisible web stretching across the city, flickered violently, as its central command node came under attack.

The Synergistic Control Hexagram based on Bernstein’s work, was no longer a theoretical exercise. It had to be executed now, flawlessly, in the infinitesimal space before Ciaori’s champion came to obliterate us, before her heart had a chance to heal.

I didn’t move my physical body. I didn’t need to. I moved my mind.

First, I caught her. Not her body, but her essence. I cast a net of Infoscope tethers, catching the dissolving and reforming fragments of her being, holding her together for a precious microsecond stretched to infinity.

Second, the Hexagram. I unleashed it from my mind, a complex, multi-layered fractal of pure Omnicode. It didn’t target Ciaori. It targeted the network. It bypassed her Champions’ individual wills, their physical forms, and seized the abstract, hierarchical command structure that bound them together. For a split second, I felt the Syntropic crystalline hearts of hundreds powerful Arcanicx Champions all across Agamemnon turn towards me, a chorus of confusion that was instantly silenced as my Hexagram asserted its dominance.

I was now their conductor. It was easy.

Too easy, like I had done this before. Like I had planned for this long ago, in another lifetime.

Third, the conduit. The [[[Love]]] binding. I poured my will through the triangular anchor connecting me, Kliss, and Sasha. It became a bridge, a stable pathway between my soul and the external, hijacked network.

Fourth, the transfer.

[Sasha, NOW!] I commanded. [Get in there, you ass!]

[With pleasure,] her voice echoed through my being, laced with triumphant glee.

A torrent of silver-blue entropy, the very essence of the Astral Virus, poured from my soul, across the Tether-bridge between me and Ciaori. Sasha flooded into the fractured soul of Ciaori Sestii. It was a beautifully executed infection injection, a virus claiming a new, more robust host.

Finally, stabilization.

[Kliss! She’s dead! Stop tearing her apart!] I ordered and life-ending flames around the dragon girl flashed out of existence, dimmed.

With the Synergistic Control Hexagram, I repurposed the entire Champion network. A hundred streams of magic power, the life force of her own Champions, poured back into Ciaori’s dying, dragonfire-engulfed body, not to just heal it, but to anchor the entropic virus that was Sasha.

A perfect, stable, impossible loop bound into itself.

Stable Syntropic magic, a network of power binding a single entropic soul.

My mind began to boil as I wove it all together, pulling life from the champion into the Arcanicx body and soul through the Monster>Human converter that I used to make Kliss.

One by one the Arcanicx Champions winked out from my magic eyes. A waiter that flashed next to us with his hand raised, choked as his body ossified from within.

Another Champion died. Then another.

More. I needed all the power. I needed to reshape the Arcanicx girl into something entirely new.

One by one, Ciaori’s Champions winked out like dying stars as I conducted my spell for the second time, creating something entirely new. A new life. A body that could contain a purely Entropic soul.

Time snapped back into its linear progression as I ran out of mana. I pulled mana out of Battie to stabilize myself so that I didn’t faint into oblivion this time.

All around the restaurant Arcanicx men collapsed where they were rushing toward us, coming apart into ashes.

The whole sequence had taken less than the time it took for Ciaori’s half-lifted teacup to finally succumb to gravity and shatter on the marble floor.

Kliss stood panting, her hand pulling back, the dragonfire receding from her eyes, leaving behind a dazed look.

The body of Ciaori Sestii, which should have had a hole in her chest, slumped forward.

Kliss caught her before she hit the table.

She shuddered once, a violent, full-body tremor. Then she took a ragged breath. Her head lifted slowly.

The orange fur and the red hair was still there. Her features appeared different, younger, smaller, now looking almost like Kliss, but boiled in fox-ness.

Her eyes… they were no longer the bright, warm orange shade of a Vulfix.

They were now a swirling, endless abyss of silver and blue stretching inward towards infinity. A spiral of a hundred, a thousand, a million ghost-eyes flickered within their depths.

Sasha, now wearing the syntropy-reinforced, reformed body of Ciaori Sestii, blinked once. She flexed her new fingers, examined her new hands, and then a slow, devious smile spread across her vulpine-ish features.

She looked at Kliss, then at me.

“Perfect,” she said.

Ashes rained all around us.