The Simulacrum

~Chapter 142~ Part 1

"…Come again?"

"I said, I think I'm the Narrative," I repeated myself, and my girlfriend was still looking at me like I just told her that… no. On second thought, coming up with a similarly dumbfounding analogy would've been just redundant.

Judy didn't get bogged down in the absurdity for long though.

"Literally, figuratively, or metaphorically?"

That gave me a pause, and after some consideration, I answered, "Somewhere between options one and two."

"That's not very helpful for understanding this."

"Sorry, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around this whole thing as well."

After apologizing, I let out a long breath, and tapped of my face. Pudding-kun took that as a signal, and with a poof, he transformed back into his natural form and landed on my lap with a soft plop.

"I was meaning to ask about your face, but that explains it," my dear assistant noted before leaning closer. "So? Are you going to explain what just happened?"

"How much did you see?"

She paused to collect her thoughts, during which I absently patted the mini-shoggoth and he let out a series of purring sounds in return.

"At first, I only noticed that everyone slowed down, and then stopped. Except for Elly. After that, there was something like a hole in the world slowly approaching you, but when I blinked, it just disappeared, and you continued to play Bel. What was that?"

So, by the sound of it, she couldn't perceive the Predator Moon. Or at the very least, not the way I could; not as a 'person'. Shaking my head, I quickly explained the broad strokes of what just happened from my perspective, starting from the moment I decided to retcon Angie. The fractal world, my hazy memories of the affair, the appearance of the bone-man, and concluded by the brief encounter with other-me and the Red Sun. When I reached the end of it, she let out a thoughtful hum. Contrary to my expectations, she didn't fish out her phone to take notes and only stared at me in mild bewilderment.

"That's a lot to take in."

"It sure is," I sighed with a mixture of exhaustion and frustration, while she remained attentive.

"Exactly how much did you retcon?"

"I… don't think I went back too far. Probably just the last hour or so?"

"You're not sure?"

"Come on, Dormouse. Cut me some slack. Considering how frantic and out-of-it I was at the time, I'm just happy I didn't accidentally turn everyone into werewolves, or whatever…"

Judy eyed me for a moment, and seemingly made up her mind to broach a touchy subject.

"Since you brought it up yourself, let me ask: after you merged with this 'other you', do you feel any different?"

"No, not really." After pondering for a while, I shrugged. "I do feel a bit better, now that my headache is gone, but I don't think that's what you meant."

"I was more worried about your ego."

"I'm still myself, if that's what you're worried about. Other-me is… was… am. Let's go with 'am'. I am still me."

I was still thinking about a fitting analogy, like how if a glassful of water is divided in two and then poured back together, it's still the same water, but before I could get to voicing it, Judy moved on.

"I believe you, but once things calm down, we'll need to have a long discussion with some tests. Just to be sure."

"Be my guest."

She nodded, and it was only then that I noticed an odd glint in her eyes. It was a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, with just a hint of reservation, and I could guess what she was going to ask next.

"How much new information did you get from this 'other you'?"

"A lot, but not enough," I answered in a low voice and quickly shook my head. "No, that's the wrong way to put it. Let's say that I now know a lot of the 'whats' of the Simulacrum, and a few of the 'hows', but precious few of the 'whys'."

If given enough time, I was sure I could piece together a lot of the latter based on the former two, but this wasn't the time for it. We were still in the middle of a situation at the moment, so I decided to limit my explanation to the bare minimum.

"The Simulacrum is like… It's closer to a 'dream' than a computer simulation, but it's not a dream of a specific being. It's more like a collective phenomenon embedded in… uh… I don't think there's a good word for it, but I guess the closest would be 'space-time'? Anyhow, the Simulacrum is naturally a chaotic mess, so it's shaped by external entities into something more concrete."

"The star-people?"

"Yes, the Emergents."

"Are you one of them?"

I wanted to instinctively deny her, but the words were trapped in my throat, resulting in an odd, strained noise that made Pudding-kun look at me and worriedly tap on my chest.

"Maaaybe? It's more like… the current me you're talking to is a part of a bigger whole, but I don't really know what that 'bigger whole' is yet. It's kind of hard to put into words. It's like… very esoteric."

"A part of that red star you mentioned?"

"Maybe, but not quite?" Judy looked at me critically, and I raised my palms in a hurry. "Come on, Dormouse! I just learned all of this a few minutes ago! Give me some time to figure it out."

"Speaking of time." She tapped her gaudy communication glasses. "This probably isn't the best one to keep leisurely talking like this."

"Right." Saying so, I put down Pudding-kun, and after standing up, I shifted into my Polemos outfit. Then, after some more consideration, I switched to my Lion Knight armour instead. It just felt more fitting. "I should deal with that situation first, shouldn't I?"

"Things are winding down at Elly's end, so yes, that seems to be the most pressing thing you should resolve at the moment."

"Figures." I rolled my shoulders and turned to face her again. "And then, after that, I'll have to do something about Elysium too, won't I?"

"This is going to be a long night."

"Took the words right out of my mouth. At least we're over the worst of it. I think." I was just about to say my goodbyes and Phase away, but Judy also stood up and looked me in the eyes. "Is there something else?"

"Just… Chief? Before you leave, let's be clear on something. You're still Leo… my Leo, right?"

After the initial surprise, I emphatically stated, "Always."

"Good." There was a brief pause, and then she added, "Take off your helmet."

"Why?"

"I want to kiss you, and it's in the way."

Feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders, I went one step further and turned off my Leoformer altogether. The moment I was back in my normal clothes, Judy rose to her tip-toes, put her arms around my neck, and pulled me into an unexpectedly tongue-y kiss. Our lips parted after a few seconds, and she let out an eminently relieved breath.

"All right. Back to business." She fixed her communicator glasses, which got pushed out of place when we were making out, and finished with a soft hum. "I'll update Elly, and investigate exactly how much your retcon changed events compared to what we remember."

"Please do so." I flashed a smile and donned my Lion Knight armour again. "I'm off."

"I'd normally tell you to be careful, but at this point, it feels pointless."

Was that because she gave up on me ever being careful, or because she thought that, after merging with other-me, I would be invincible? It wasn't exactly a power-up though, but I didn't correct her misconception, and simply Phased away.

Normally I would've teleported outside of the Purple (or in this case, Orange) Zone, and then asked Judy to convey a message to Lord Barnabas to 'let me in', but not this time. I've spent quite some time bringing Judy up to date, and I just wanted to get this stupid climax over with so that I could just sit down with a hot cup of tea and organize all my thoughts.

As such, I promptly reappeared inside the battlefield, startling the arch-mage. He was still looking after the injured Agrawain, in the company of the two senior Knights, and their faces lit up the moment they recognized me.

"Leonard! I mean, My Liege!" Arnwald greeted me in a hurry, standing up from the side of Raven Boy sitting on the ground, but I raised a palm to stop him while looking over the environment.

The copy of the warehouse, where all of it started, was pretty much in ruins by this point. We were all outside the building, where the group had taken shelter behind one of the few still stable walls. Judging from the sounds, there were still two hot spots nearby, and my consciousness automatically shifted towards them in a shallow version of Far Sight. Inside the ruins, my in-laws, as well as Naoren and Rinne, were still engaged with the Colossi. Much further back, close to the edge of the pocket space, Parcival and Sebastian were having a big, epic duel of epic proportions surrounded by my Abyssal sister's ice magic. After getting a rough outline of the situation, and seeing that no one was too badly hurt, I turned back to the group by my side.

"Let's leave the courtesies for later. What's the situation?"

Of course, I knew the situation better than them, but they didn't know I knew, so it was important to play my role here. It being 'a Leonard S. Dunning who recently arrived here after disengaging from a different battle and crossing half the city'.

"How did you enter here?" Lord Barnabas blurted out, looking at me suspiciously. "This is a Locked Restricted Field."

"I used the back door Bel of the Abyss left behind," I told him off-handedly and looked around. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

"He left this combat zone a while ago," Arnwald told me, and I clicked my tongue hard, to feign irritation.

"Next time, then," I spoke mysteriously and turned to Morgana. "I'm still waiting for that report."

Morgana rose to her feet, and realizing that I was doing a bit, she obediently (and more importantly, succinctly) explained the events that took place here. I nodded along, displaying the appropriate amount of surprise at the twists and turns and just a hint of faux outrage over the destruction of Ascalon. Once she reached the end of her explanation, I once more turned my head towards the sounds of the still ongoing battle.

"You've done well, everyone." Infusing my words with as much solemnity as I could muster, I reached inside my storage enhancements and retrieved my swords. "I'll take it from here."

My declaration was, unfortunately, undercut by my swords immediately doing their usual routine in my head.

"{Ah! Where are we this time, young knight? Is it still an emergency?}"

"{Report: New battlefield registered. Entering combat mode.}"

"{Wait a second! What is one of the Celestials' statues doing here?!}"

"{Correction: The proper designation is Colossus War Platform, third generation, close combat configuration. Further Correction: There are also multiple individuals present, not just one.}"

"{That's not important! Young knight! This is the time! You must use this opportunity to master your beam attack upon the hides of these hideous creatures!}"

"{Even Further Correction: Colossus War Platforms were shaped and ornamented by the best artisans of Elysium. They are not hideous.}"

Ignoring them, as usual, I walked into the battlefield. Now that I got some of my compartmentalized knowledge back, I understood the structure of the so-called plot a bit better. In particular, how this whole encounter was supposed to go down, and how my interference shifted it. Not the retcon; just me being me and mucking things up as Bel.

Now, I needed to nudge the 'plot' to direct the events my way. It might've sounded like a daunting task, but in retrospect, wasn't it something I'd already been doing for a while? Subverting the Knights by taking Cal and capturing them through the duel with Penny, hijacking the tournament arc by supplanting my own climax with Bel as the main actor, the entire hot-springs arc… So long as what I did satisfied the Simulacrum's requirements, the 'plot' would bend to my machinations, no pan-Simulacrum reality-warping Narrative-me shenanigans required.

But what was the Simulacrum looking for? Other-me called it 'drama', but it was something even simpler than that. Drama was just the medium to induce stimulation. Stimulation for the… Submerged Ones? Yes, that's how I transliterated the term before. As for what that meant, I still wasn't entirely certain, but I was pretty sure I could figure it out soon. As long as I was given some room to breathe.

Speaking of which, while Abram, Emese, Naoren and Rinne were still holding the line, they didn't exactly have any room to breathe per se. By the looks of it, Mountain Girl successfully managed to temporarily take one of the Colossi out of commission with Onikiri, yet they were still outnumbered five to four, and the tenacious statue monsters had no concept of the words 'stamina' or 'exhaustion'. My allies weren't so lucky, and with the Colossi steadily adapting to their fighting styles, it was only a question of time before they would be pushed back.

Looking at them, several potential 'plots' rushed in front of my mind's eye. Ways to create 'drama' and generate 'stimulation'. Mom-in-law could overcome the last vestiges of her injury, and awaken her True Dragon Fire, just like Elly did under pressure, and burn them down to even the playing field. Surpassing a disability or a bottleneck to gain a power-up was a pretty common dramatic plot device. Or Naoren could get seriously wounded while protecting Rinne, and thinking that he's about to die, she would unlock the true potential of Onikiri to protect him. It was similar, but the source of the power-up being the power of friendship gave it a different flavour. Add in a dying declaration of affection (whether it was actually a 'dying' one or not was entirely beside the point), and you could even take it one step further, and turn the power of friendship into the power of love instead. As I have told myself in the past, it's a common trope because it works.

Shaking my head, I swiftly got rid of the images. Not because I still thought that the 'power of love' was a bit too trite, but because all of those potentials were moot. I was here, so there was no reason for them to come to be. However, I couldn't 'just' resolve this battle; I had to resolve it dramatically. It was… how to put it simply? As I said, the Simulacrum, or rather, the consciousnesses connected to it, longed for stimulation. The result was a kind of force, like a compressed spring. Just like a spring tried to release the energy stored within it, the Simulacrum would also try to release this 'tension'.

If so, what was the role of the Narrative? If this situation ended anti-climactically, all that potential tension would lead to complications in potentially unpredictable and possibly metaphysical ways. The Narrative existed to channel this tension, and weave it into a 'plot', where it could be released in the form of 'drama'. I was always part of the Narrative, and the Narrative was a part of me, even when I didn't realize it. Just like how it steered me through direct and indirect means, my own plots and actions created drama for the Narrative to utilize. But… that wasn't all of it. I peeled back a layer of the Simulacrum, the Narrative, and myself, but there were still many more left. There were still many things missing, and my understanding was still incomplete.

One thing I knew for sure though was that, by regaining my compartmentalized knowledge, the boundaries between 'me' and the 'Narrative' have blurred even further, to the point it would no longer be able to operate without me. And so, I had to orchestrate my own 'drama' to relieve the Simulacrum's 'tension' and create 'stimulation'. That was the way forward, and the only way to delve deeper into the mysteries of the Simulacrum, the Emergents, and my connection to the Red Sun…

…

No. That wasn't the right name. It was something I came up with, and it felt right at the time, but after what I saw in the hole punctured into the paused Simulacrum, the words no longer felt adequate.

******************** ******** ************

Sounds. Images. Impressions. A series of them thundered in my brain, and I kept repeating the core concept of the entity. With each repetition, my understanding became clearer. I discarded the miscellaneous impressions and focused on the essence of the being until I could slowly extract a true name that could be expressed in words.

"Crowned Coalescence."

My whisper made my mind tremble. Yes. That felt right. And it also made me even more certain of one fact; I was connected to this being. I had no idea how, or why, but I could not deny the truth. What did that make me then? Part of an Emergent? A Submerged One? The Narrative? Or a pawn thereof?

What a silly notion. I was Leonard S. Dunning. Blackcloak. Chimera Slayer of Critias. Regent of House Inanna. King of Knights. Polemos, the Second True Archon. Bel of the Abyss. Bel of the Tenebrous Frames. I was already so many things; did adding a few more titles and qualifiers even matter at this point? I was me, and it was time for me to make a dramatic entrance. That's all that mattered.

As such, I flourished my weapons as I walked towards the scuffle between the Colossi and my allies, and did something I should've done a long time ago: I opened my wings.

After all, I was Polemos. While I might not have inherited his memories or personality, I had, without a doubt, taken his role in the plot. It was one of the many paths Leonard Dunning, sleeper agent of the Narrative, was supposed to be able to thread before I forcefully took a sharp right turn on the first of September, and blazed my own trail. Depending on which of the myriad branches the plot took, I could've become the master of the Brotherhood, or Polemos of the Celestials, or Bel of the Tenebrous Flames of the Abyssals. I have already donned all three mantles, so why shouldn't I be able to use them?

It was but a simple (if slightly desperate) self-suggestion, but the effects were immediate and I could feel a source of mana, different from the one supplied by my swords, bursting from my chest and spreading through my body. As naturally as breathing, I focused on my back, and even though I couldn't see them, I could feel three pairs of ethereal wings sprout behind me, as much part of my body as my arms and legs. Except, no, not really. I wasn't supposed to—

"Haaah…"

I exhaled hard to keep the self-doubt in check. I repeated the mantra 'I am Polemos' in my head a couple more times, until the wings fully solidified. Well, as fully as these things could be. Even Angie's full-on burning Deus wings were pretty transparent at the best of times. Anyhow, after some further self-suggestion, I managed to fully manifest them. Because I'm the Narrative, and if I say so, then I'm Polemos, and I should be able to do something like this. And the Simulacrum listened.

I had no idea for how long I could maintain the self-suggestion though, so I had to act quickly. Channelling more power into my newfound wings, their light painted the otherwise orange ruins in a harsh blue, drawing the attention of the Colossi to the point one of them just straight up ignored Rinne, and she used the opportunity to nearly cut off its wrist. It didn't even flinch.

Ignoring that, I focused my attention on the monsters and continued to twist my own proverbial arm. I was Polemos. Second True Archon. The rightful military leader of all Celestials. These statue creatures were, before anything else, military war machines. Or war-beasts might've been better to— No, focus. No semantics!

Where was I? Right! I was the highest military authority in Elysium, therefore, I should've… No, I did have authority over these things. I absolutely did. That's just how things were, and I should know, because I was the Narrative. Therefore…

"Heed my command!" I shouted in the direction of the Colossi, and pointed Teeny at them, for extra theatrics. "Cease your attacks, and stand by."

The six creatures (including the bisected one on the warehouse floor) look at me as if they are expecting something more. What could it be? Shouldn't that be enough? Maybe they weren't following my orders because I wasn't really Pole—

Shit, I almost wavered there! I had to come up with something. Something that would fit the situation, like… Right, a secret code word! Since Colossi were big war-monster-things, they would obviously have fail-safes installed in them, so that they could be quickly disabled, and as Polemos, I obviously would know about that, because I was Polemos, and that's what it meant to be Polemos, which I definitely was.

"Execute operation sixty-nine!"

I put my whole being into my voice, and after a suspenseful beat, all the Colossi relaxed, as if their strings were cut.

…

Holy shit…! I couldn't believe that worked, especially when I'm not even really—

"Oh, there it goes," I mutter as my wings disappear and the odd source of mana disperses. "I need to practice this."

This time, the Simulacrum played along, probably because what I did just now was suitably 'dramatic'. However, if I wanted to exploit this kind of narrative influence in the future, I really needed to get my shit together. Though again, this whole self-suggestion thing might've worked much better if I wasn't so tired. Or it might've only worked because my brain was so exhausted. Again, I needed practice to figure it out.

Much more importantly, my little light show drew the attention of the trio fighting on the outside. Snowy, following my earlier instructions, was still keeping her distance in the air, while the two elderly men on the ground were looking at me. Sebastian seemed more startled than anything by my display, while Percival was… well, I couldn't read his face, because he was wearing his high-tech helmet, but he was also on guard. More importantly, he was wielding Morgana's flamberge. He must've picked it up after she fell off the roof and I broke his spear, and while his armour was scratched and dented at a few places, he was holding up pretty well, all things considered.

That would end now.

"Sir Percival," I called out to him while slowly walking out of through the fallen side of the warehouse. I took my time because doing it this was built anticipation. Then, once I was closer, I nodded at Sebastian before pointing Cal at Percival. "I now challenge you to Arbitration."

It was a meaningless gesture. Without the Colossi to take pressure off him, he was completely outnumbered and had no way to escape. There was no logical reason to do this… but the Simulacrum wasn't running on logic alone. I could not afford an anti-climax, and fortunately, there was a perfect way to conclude this event. We were both Knights. We had more than enough witnesses. And more importantly, the setup was perfect.

An old master and his pupil. The betrayer and the betrayed. Once as close as family, their bond now irrevocably broken and facing each other in single combat, with their histories and personalities clashing and emotions running high.

That… was drama.