#127

“You'll be safe in here,” Madame Levingt says. But in Your armor, You can see that phrase appear: “Madame Levingt says”. And Your APPLE instantly tells You that that sentence doesn't communicate the truth.

“I know that that's not your real name,” You says.

“What?”

“Your name isn't Madame Levingt or Mary Levingt.”

“The name is real, because I call myself by it.”

“You have a truer name, though, don't you? Something with three letters, starting with a G...”

There's a pause, as there have always been pauses throughout this narrative. In those pauses, You senses a tingle of grammar that might seems to be recycling itself. They're repetitive elements in a story that will be looped over and over again; the future selves of the people in this House are watching this all happen, and will travel back in time to make it happen, so they can do it all again...

“That is one of my aspects,” she says. “But in reality, I'm much more than even that.”

“How?”

“I can't explain right now. There's more important exposition.”

“God damn it!” You suddenly shouts. You's at Your breaking point. This quest has worn on You too much without catharsis. It needs to end soon or You'll go insane. That's not even hyperbole; You can't sense hyperbole, at least. “We're caught in a tug of war between a bunch of Gods and nothing makes any sense! Did you ever consider that we, as human fucking beings, can't deal with time and space being fucked up?! What sort of selfish end is all of this even fucking leading to anyway?”

“You...”

“No, be quiet!”

Mina grabs Your arm and tries to get You to stop. “I trusted you for a little while!” You continues. “But I guess that was a different aspect or something, not the feminine aspect of the cosmos or something...”

“I'm always the feminine aspect of the cosmos, You.” Her voice is kind, but You can sense She's just barely restraining Her Wrath. “That's what I am.”

“And whose Madame Levingt, then?”

“She serves her purposes.”

“No! Tell me right...”

“You...”

“...now.”

Susie helps Mina pull You back as suddenly Shekinah is towering over the group. Her features change to bitter vengeance, darkness tinged with mind-warping beauty; and unseen, a flicker of recognition enters Lefty Sinister's eyes.

“L.?” he asks.

And suddenly, She goes back to normal. She gasps.

“Sinister?” she says then.

“Libertas?” he whispers.

She becomes Libertas, then, and walks towards him. “I haven't seen you in ages, Sinister...I-I didn't even know that you were here. I guess I glanced over you...”

“Heh. Not surprising.”

“Are you still bitter?” Her voice is sad. It's totally different from that of any form the group has seen Her in. “Lefty, I...”

“Look, who was the other guy?”

“What?”

“The other guy. The guy you ditched me for.”

“Lefty, is that what you think...?” Her words catch a little bit. “You're the only one I ever loved, Sinister.”

“Yeah, and you were the same fer me. I woulda thought that meant somethin'.”

“Lefty...I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but...I'm God. I'm Shekinah. I don't fall in love unless I'm in a very certain form. You loved freedom so much that you called me to your side.”

He looks bitter, but they may be a pretense. He doesn't speak for a very, very long time.

“Didja miss me in that time, though? That's my second question.”

“Of course I missed you, dummy! But I have so many forms to be in, and I always questioned myself. It's not right for me of all beings to fall in love with a man. It's not done.”

“I bet I chained yah up, didn't I. Spoiled things for yah.”

“No! I was never defined by you, I mean. I was always the one in control. You respected that.”

“Heh.”

Another pause.

“Would you like me to get you your leg back?”

“No! I never want favors from yah. I always knew that wasn't right for me to ask.”

“I'm offering. I have that right, to offer.”

“That's true. Well, I'm grown fond of having a wooden leg. Symbolic of something? A nice reference? I don't know. I'm sure someone important who rather looks like me, so to put it, has had a wooden leg...”

“Very well. But hey, I have to talk later, okay? I will talk to you later. I just have to settle some things for now.”

“Okay. I understand.”

“I know you do. I read your mind, remember? And if you were lying, I'd smite you right away.” She grins, and he does too. “But thanks.”

The Old Man doesn't say anything, knowing ze too could be smote. But ze knows that She knows that the matter at hand is pressing.

“The Moonchild outside must be stopped,” ze says.

“You mean Mark?” Susie interjects.

“I'm sorry, Miss Sanford, but he's no longer Mark. It's not as if he's taken the identity of the Moonchild; it's that he was born the Moonchild, and was raised as Mark. He was the mystic son of Kurq'wes, who was in turn one of the children of Inspector Fox. And as You knows, the Emperor Kai was also a Son of Fox. Thus, You and Mark are cousins.”

“...what?” Her face is twisted with concern.

“Spiritual cousins. Nothing biological.”

 “Oh. Well, that just makes it all better then, doesn't it?”

“Who's Kurq'wes?” Jacob asks, sort of already knowing.

“Kurq'wes was born Robert Kirk,” begins the Old Man. Shekinah steps back, allowing hir to explain; for after all, this is a matter of hir past. “When the Sons of Fox chose their lives, he decided to be a Scottish clergyman. In his life, he gained a great interest in faeries, something also pursued by Puck, one of Fox's other Sons. He abandoned Christianity to begin the study of magic, and in doing so became a powerful sorcerer. An Incomputare. When Fox began chasing his Sons across time to absorb their powers into himself, he went on a journey only attempted by one other, and in doing so encountered several beings which changed him into something more than human, beyond even Incomputare.”

“What quest was that?” questions Mina.

“I cannot say, for it is hidden by the very nature of the Incomputare—a story in itself, and one long in the telling. Robert Kirk eventually broke free from being Fox's Son. He became Kurq'wes, a name of unknowable significance. Though he appears to be a skull-faced humanoid, his true form is incomprehensible to beings even of my stature. He is a rogue element in this tale, as he created Mark, who we believe was initially never supposed to enter the story. Though the appearance of a Moonchild like Mark in my life at this stage is inevitable. Mark just happens to be the one who satisfies the end that my past self eventually had to face.

“We cannot know in rational terms what Kurq'wes desired when he created Mark. Perhaps he merely enjoys the chaos that arises from Mark's current actions. Or maybe he plays into my personal destiny more than I know. That investigation is still ongoing. But in any case, my story must be told in order to explain what is about to happen. I was born on Earth-Alpha as an ordinary human. I grew up in the 1960s, and was a hippie, which may be a phrase that You and Susie don't recognize, as American and indeed Western history is not actively taught here, due to the obvious presence of the Empire. I was a rather foolish young man, but I had the libertine spark that I still carry with me today. I was a teenage occultist, and had many adventures with a group of...well, no matter how much context I give you, I'll never be able to properly explain it, so sadly this story will be but a pointless background reference. All I can say is that in the early 1970s I was badly injured—killed, in fact. And that was when I met Harold Coppola—an Incomputare who had abandoned magic to become the Administrator of a space station.

“Coppola had, when I was just a boy, gone mad, and traveled into The Unscene in search of a being which he believed could destroy the Ultra, whom Jacob knows as the architects of the Multiverse. He was a sort of anarchist in that respect, not unlike myself. He was fascinated with me as a historical figure, and the two of us shared a homeworld in Earth-Alpha. At one point he acquired my remains, and using a certain process which I'll neglect to describe here, he restored me to life.

“Before he had added me to his collection, however, Administrator Coppola had also captured a certain mystical being. One who had had a particular sort of garb that he believed was meant to be the chassis of the creature he sought to use to destroy the Ultra.”

“He captured Mark?” Susie interrupts. “Does that mean that this is all...about to happen? These events?”

“He did; and they are,” the Old Man says simply. “And if I am to be here, nothing can be done about it. I will offer my apologies in due time. But please, I ask you to restrain your anger, because time is running out, and I need to finish explaining. Coppola had come to guess that the perfect being he sought for his plan could never exist in Nature, and so he had to create it. So he decided to acquire a Moonchild. But Mark was, or will be, too unstable. He needed someone experienced with the occult, of certain youthfulness, whom he could fuse with the Moonchild's Armor, which it had been separated from. So he forced me to volunteer.

“Needless to say the experiment was a success. I was fused with the Armor, but Mark became active. He sensed that someone had stolen his Armor, which is the primal crime for a Moonchild. Nothing could contain him after that, and...”

“...you were forced to kill him?” Susie says breathlessly.

The Old Man says nothing.

“You killed him.”

“I did. I'm sorry, Susie. This is the past. I will not have a choice. My powers have helped Mary guide this all along, and if I cease to exist by failing to aid Coppola capture Mark, so that I may take his Armor and thus become the Moonchild myself, as I am now, the timeline will be altered. You will all probably be dead by this point. The Empire may succeed, and annihilate the Multiverse.”

“This isn't fair!” You suddenly feels bad, realizing what Mark's whole life has been. As tears begin to drip down Susie's face, everyone feels the grip of pity. She's just realizing now that in spite of everything, including the brief time they've known each other, she's come to know him in a way that makes her feel strange.

“I know, child.” And hir voice actually gains emotion now. But You knows this is all scripted. The feelings aren't real. “Coppola will come, and I will help restrain Mark. Please, think of all that has been lost to the Emperor, and to Inspector Fox. All of that loss will be in vain if my present form is not allowed to manifest!”

Jacob still feels empathy for the crying girl. But he knows that answers still have to be sought, if this is inevitable. Maybe he can improvise a way out later, who knows.

“Why is Mark going mad out there? Aside from all the power he's absorbed, I guess?” Jacob is speaking, and his voice is trying to stabilize the situation.

“Kurq'wes and others—sadly, myself including—have tampered with his mind. Used him to push forward these events. There are several sides to Mark now, all subtly different. Initially, he was a homophobic and close-minded culture snob. I changed him to suit my purposes, so he would be a champion against the Empire, and an apprentice sorcerer. This fate was taken away when Kurq'wes tried to get him to evolve further, which resulted in the creation of The Thicket. He eventually stabilized into a generally kind person, a fourth personality. These personalities were kept from conflicting until Fox attempted to steal his body. As aspects of Fox's persona overrode Mark's, it was a dagger stabbing into his psyche, and now those personalities are in conflict. The close-minded hatred he feels for zombies, conditioned into him for irony purposes, is now being fused with hallucinations brought on by his brain attempting to balance itself. He truly believes all life in this universe, save himself, is composed of that which he hates.

“And his mind has evolved. No spell of mine or even Mary's can override this madness. He is doomed, and for that, I sincerely apologize.”

“How can you say sorry?” Susie asks. “How can you 'apologize' for helping some monster use a man as a tool for his entire life?”

Once more, the Old Man does not respond.

“The intense magical energies spreading into this universe are attracting Harold Coppola,” Doctor Kai says, breaking his long silence. “It's time.”

The Old Man and Mary begin to walk towards the door. Following them, now, seems to be the only option.