608 Snake God (1/2)

”When I looked outside earlier,” Tycondrius gestured behind him, ”There were no people in the streets.”

Cass immediately rolled out of bed onto her feet and dashed to the balcony, ”What the-- what's going on?! Where is everyone?!?”

It sounded like she was going to cry... again.

Tycon slowed his speech and softened his tone, hoping not to agitate her.

”Don't be alarmed, dear sister... but you and Atusa... you may be mana-constructs in a Reality Marble.”

Cass turned, her face twisted in confusion, ”B-but why?! Why would someone trap you in a-- WAIT! WHY ME?!?”

”Because this,” Tycon stood up and gestured to his surroundings, ”is my dream. I want my quest to be complete. I want to be done with it all.

”No more trying to relive the glories of my past... with allies that pale in comparison to the old members of Sol Invictus.

”No more doing favors for people who don't give a shite whether I live or die... embroiling myself in shite situations-- and for what? Because I foolishly cling to my dated ideals of honor and chivalry...

”I suppose... I want the safety and security of being... here, the closest concept of 'home' I can achieve in this life.”

Tycon paused thoughtfully to poke at Cass' cheek, ”with my favorite sister.”

”Oy,” Cass glared. ”There's something wrong with what you're saying.”

Tycon shrugged.

”I believe that whoever... or whatever wants to keep me here hopes for the illusion to last... that rather than struggling with the obligations in my actual life, I'd choose to live a peaceful, illusory life with my cute sister.”

”There's lots of things wrong with what you're saying, right now, Big Brother,” The blushing Princess mumbled.

”Can you reach anyone else via ⌈Message⌋?” Tycon asked.

Cass shut her eyes for several moments... then shook her head, ”I just tried Mom... No luck.”

Tycon approved of his sister's logical processes. However, if the creator of the Reality Marble couldn't recreate the citizens of Charm, it was highly implausible that they'd recreate Queen Rylania.

Still... it bothered him that there were so few people.

In the Halls of the Dead Serpent, Adamantine-Rank formations held together a Reality Marble of thousands of Bronze-Ranks, as well as dozens of Iron-Ranks.

In Cersei's Rest, the Gold-Rank Reality Marble he and Sasarame created managed a single Gold-Rank Dovahkiin Warmage, as well as varied forces of Bronze-Rank gladiators.

Thus far, Tycon had only encountered a single Iron-Rank Medusa Princess... and he very much doubted he was trapped in an Iron-Rank Reality Marble.

--Movement. Just outside the room, Atusa had fallen. He and his sister immediately snapped their heads towards the door... watching it gnarl and wither and rot.

”Tycon, Tycon, Tycon...” He shook his head... ”my not so faithful servant.”

Ah. That was the mana-construct the rest of the formation was powering.

Cass pointed accusingly... not at the bloodied man at the door, but at him.

”WHY ARE THERE TWO OF YOU?!” She shrieked.

Tycon frowned, ”Why are you asking me as if it's my fault?”

”I don't know HOW, but you're DEFINITELY at fault!” Cass retorted.

That was an unfair judgment... but it wasn't entirely false.

Zehr was wearing Tycon's face, as well as his charming smirk. He wore Tycon's usual cloak with the hood pulled back, save its color was bleached white, as opposed to a functional dark.

The chainshirt underneath clinked as he walked forward and the arming sword in his hand was wet with fresh blood. Atusa lay dead in the hallway, her eyes rolled back and her dress from the neck down newly colored crimson.

”Good morning, Zehr,” Tycon nodded. ”To what do I owe this visit?”

”Don't start with me, Tycondrius,” Zehr growled. ”You completed your quest in the Holy Country. You should have left when you had the chance.”

Cass shouted in frustration, stamping her foot on the ground, ”Big Brother?! Who in the seven hells is that?! And why does he have the same name as the Snake God?!”

Tycon pursed his lips, slightly amused by his sister's overly serious face.

”Because... he *is* the snake god.”

”Cassiopeia, first daughter of Rylania,” Zehr growled. ”Kill this traitor.”

The willful girl stomped over to Tycon, grabbed his shirt collar, and placed a glowing hand against his chest.

Tycon sharpened his gaze, hoping he looked more annoyed than concerned. In his weakened state, he doubted his ability to pry himself free of his sister's grasp. Worse still, Cass was channeling a Second-Circle evocation spell at an intimate range.

He was in a potentially lethal situation.

Cass pointed a finger of her still-glowing hand towards Tycon's cloaked doppelganger, ”You pissed off the SNAKE GOD?!?!”

”Apparently,” Tycon grimaced.