Tarel impatiently tapped his foot as he waited for the infuriatingly slow refill that would let him speak with his chosen, Garrett. It had been eight days and two hours since their last short bout of messages, where Tarel had insisted that contact with Damian Ilovich was paramount, even if the man wasn’t quite what Garrett had expected. There was far more shouting and slurred insults streaming from the drunkard then Tarel had anticipated, which made it all the more frustrating that Sebastian Cormier had somehow tamed the freak.

“If that insect can do it, Garrett can.” Tarel muttered to himself, rubbing one of the silver beads that slowly ran through his veins in a nervous tic. His countdown slowly yet surely ticked away, just under two short days until he could see what he expected was Garrett’s triumph. “The insect had years to master that freakish core, and Garrett is already almost equally skilled. He’ll be fine.”

“Oh no, nonononoohnono.” Giame muttered to herself as she approached, swaddling herself with her arms while she stared down at the ground. “The End is here. We don’t have any more time. We’re screwed. Werescrewedwerescrewedwerescrewed.”

The Embodiment of paranoia shot a look over her glassed in shoulder, watching the cloth-bound form drift through the crowd alongside a strange-looking monster. Tarel took in a deep breath, feeling the essence of this place coat his throat and lungs, and calmed the wave of fear that was pressing in on him from his fellow Embodiment. He didn’t bother trying to calm her, as it was in her nature to be wary of each and every shadow, so he let her rattle off her too-long words as she paced a circle around the cordoned off section for the human Embodiments.

“Not to be as dour as our friend here, but there is some truth to her worries.” Kiuae quietly spoke, his words carrying far more weight than their volume betrayed. The Embodiment of calm had that effect on everyone. “If The End is present, then the three we have been informed of have gathered. The summit begins the moment they exit that room.”

The summit’s commencement heralded the end of the human Embodiments’ protection. Tarel clenched his fists, fighting the urge to force his power through the system and bypass the communication cooldown. But the one time he’d done that, he’d run himself utterly empty and had only progressed the timer by four days. He wasn’t going to risk being the slightest bit weaker in the lion's den that was the Embodiments’ shared space.

//FOR THE FIRST TIME IN CENTURIES, WE GATHER.

The End’s words wrapped around Tarel’s mind like fishing wire, squeezing just a little too tightly and threatening to cut dangerously deep. He despised listening to this Embodiment, even if it was one-third of the primordials who’d given humanity a fighting chance.

//TODAY’S REASON IS ONE OF CELEBRATION; A NEW SPECIES JOINS US IN THE COLLECTIVE EXISTENCE.

//THEY HAVE SUFFERED MUCH, LOST THEIR HOME, AND NOW SEEK A NEW ONE AMONG OUR RANKS.

The End gestured over at the human Embodiment section, drawing every modicum of attention to the newcomers. Some of the attention was positive; the curiosity at seeing something completely new, or the desire to protect that which cannot protect itself. Some of the attention was negative; jealousy at no longer being the center of attention, or outright hostility at the potential for an interloper to take away the slightest bit of influence that was so tightly guarded. But among both sides, there was one sentiment that held supreme: things were about to change. And no Embodiment wanted to be crushed under the tidal waves said change would bring.

//AND SO IT IS MY DUTY TO ANNOUNCE THE CORES WITH WHICH THE HUMAN EMBODIMENTS HAVE BESTOWED TO THEIR CHOSEN.

//TO FULLY EMBRACE THE TRADITIONS OF THE COLLECTIVE EXISTENCE, AND TO ADD THEIR UNIQUE CULTURE AND TRADITIONS TO OUR OWN.

//MY FELLOWS; CAST YOUR ATTENTION TO THE LIST WITHIN YOUR PERSONAL INTERFACES.

//THERE YOU WILL FIND EACH AND EVERY CORE WITH WHICH A CHOSEN HAS BEEN CREATED.

//THOUGH I ASSUME THIS INFORMATION IS OLD NEWS TO THE LOT OF YOU.

The End chuckled, a sound that echoed around the venue without a single additional voice joining in.

Tarel took in the list of cores that scrolled past his eyes, linking each and every one to the chosen he knew carried it. There were no names associated with the cores, so the people in question could keep their being a chosen secret if they so wished, but knowing which Embodiment had given which chosen which core was knowledge that was shared by all the human Embodiments. And, as such, they were also their own biggest threats.

“Obsidian Conundrum.” Kiuae mused, staring plainly at Tarel in accusation. “I never thought you’d go through with your plans, Tarel. What became of the poor soul you harvested the core from?”

Tarel tensed, but kept a pleasant smile on his face. He wasn’t about to say he didn’t give a damn, especially not to his only remaining allies, and saying he hadn’t so much as checked wouldn’t look good either. The other nine Embodiments looked at him expectantly, so he wouldn’t get away with silence, and Tarel let loose a stream of lies that would certainly come back to bite him eventually.

“I made sure the ‘poor soul’, as you put it, got fitted with a new core before he got sent back. His memories were wiped clean by the reset, something I triple-checked before the razing struck, and his new core was a common one.” Tarel lied, nodding sagely as if he’d done something deserving of praise. “I even made sure he got a couple dozen more starting credits to buy his armor, so he’d be compensated for his contribution that he doesn’t remember.”

Giame latched onto Tarel’s arm and held tight, the woman’s fingers digging into his skin like razors. Her eyes were full of terror, and for the slightest moment Tarel felt himself dragged down with her.

But then she let go, and he was free once more. The Embodiments of Paranoia, Calm, Logic, and Spite had been fooled by the Embodiment of Will. Lubb looked away, her cold eyes drifting back to The End, and Pesic just muttered hateful things under his breath about the man who previously bore the Obsidian Conundrum. The man who’d been responsible for the death of his own chosen.

Tarel had gotten away with it. He glanced over at Kiuae to ensure the man wasn’t holding any residual doubt, but found that the Embodiment had no further interest in Tarel. That was perfect. He let his muscles untense, allowing the silver beads to continue traveling through his veins and turning back to The End’s speech. One that had mysteriously paused for a minute or so, but Tarel was feeling so full of himself that he didn’t notice the strange behavior.

Nor did he notice the giddiness behind The End’s unreadable mask of cloth.

//NOW THAT YOU HAVE HAD AMPLE TIME TO GLANCE OVER INFORMATION YOU ALREADY WERE AWARE OF, IT IS TIME TO ANNOUNCE AN UNKNOWN.

The End pressed its hands together, then bowed at the waist. The gesture brought gasps and murmurings out from the established embodiments, and a scant few muttered curses from the most ancient civilizations.

//TODAY, I CHOOSE.

All sound died. The meaning, while lost on the human Embodimens, nonetheless sent shivers down their spines as if cold steel was running over their tender necks. The chosen mirrored their Embodiments at least somewhat, so what kind of monstrosity would The End’s chosen be? Tarel tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it wouldn’t go down. He knew that The End’s chosen had to be from humanity. It all fit just together just too perfectly.

He also had a terrible feeling that he’d played a part in The End’s choosing.

The rest of The End’s speech fell on deaf ears, with all the Embodiments no longer so laser-focused on the newly added humans. If Tarel had known what would come from The End’s interference, he would have knelt at the primordial Embodiment’s feet and thanked it countless times over. Humanity was no longer the lone victim in the crosshairs; the simple reminder that the primordial Embodiments had chosen was enough to grant them the grace period they so desperately needed.

But Tarel didn’t know. So he panicked, unknowingly letting Giame influence his mind. And in his panic, he did something incredibly stupid.

His strength left him in droves, leaving him sweating and panting with aching muscles as the communication function filled itself from his reservoir. He needed to speak with Garrett this instant, no matter the cost to himself. The other Embodiments could defend him for this short while. He hurried over to the furthermost edge of the human Embodiments’ designated area and crouched down, trying to ignore the cramping pains in his stomach from the overdraw of power.

{Garrett, we need to speak this instant. Respond now.} Tarel ordered. When Garrett didn’t respond immediately, Tarel grew irritated and scared. Had something happened to his chosen? Had The End’s chosen decided to go on a rampage and destroy all of humanity’s chosen, so he could be the final one standing?

Tarel groaned and planted one palm over his face. “Go back to the others, Giame.” He sighed, and after a moment felt the paranoid haze clear from his mind.

{Sorry, I’m here now.} Garrett’s words appeared over Tarel’s vision, and he sighed in relief. {Things aren’t going so great over here. I… I might have done something really bad, Master.}

{That doesn’t matter… no, it might. Tell me what has gone wrong.}

{Okay, um, well, I might have killed Damian Ilovich’s son.} Garrett said, then paused for a long while as Tarel swore up a storm on his end. {It was in self-defense! He kept trying to hurt me, and I just snapped, and now Damian’s looking for the guy who killed him!}

Tarel took a deep breath to calm himself. He could still salvage this. {Does he know it was you?}

An uncomfortably long pause between question and answer. {He doesn’t.}

{Then you will ‘help’ him find the killer. I will send you a plan which you will need to follow to the letter, alongside another two chosen that I will ensure contact you.} Tarel commanded, his communication function already half-drained from this short conversation. {Once Damian Ilovich feels his son is sufficiently avenged, you will seek out Sebastian Cormier. Determine if he is a chosen or not, then report back to me with your findings. Do not let Damian Ilovich come in contact with Sebastian Cormier. That is an order, Garrett.}

{Of course, Master. You know best.} Garret responded, and Tarel allowed himself a sigh of relief. Damian Ilovich’s son’s demise was not within his plan, but it could be worked around. In Tarel’s mind, humanity would not survive without him. He would cement them in the collective existence.

No matter the cost.

//POINT OF VIEW RETURNING TO [SEBASTIAN CORMIER].

//SYNCHING…