Chapter 61: The Oldest Human Language

-Taizong POV-

Glitches filled his vision and a dull heat permeated his head. He reached up. No blood. Of course not. He’s not human.

Yet the pounding headache did not abate as his vision cleared, just in time to see a second punch being thrown his way.

Crack!

Pain blossomed as the fist struck his head once more, splintering and cracking the concrete behind him. Shards of stone and dust hung over his form like a wreath, as his head spun – programs stuttering and starting only to stop again.

His eyes rose to meet the blankly staring form of his creator. Taizong had seen his progenitor furious before, as he witnessed the lines of liberated slaves awaiting treatment in Jinzhou. He had witnessed sadness, when some inevitably succumbed to their wounds literal moments before they reached a healing station.

This was worse.

It was as if Yà lì shān dà had surpassed mere anger and gone full circle back into serenity, the sheer unrelenting nothing on their face as they once more struck him sent a shock running down his spine that had nothing to do with pain.

His head once more flew back, colliding painfully with the wall behind him and ricocheting off with a speed that made his spine ache. Yet another of his creator’s arms held him in place, while two more encircled his arms – preventing them from moving.

He struggled blindly, panic beginning to surface from the waters of his usually tranquil mind. The hands that enveloped him didn’t budge.

Another punch let out a deep reverberation, the building’s structure clearly not enjoying the torment it was going through.

‘They must be reinforcing the wall somehow,’ he thought blearily. Punches that hadn’t destroyed a wall should have no means of hurting this much.

Unmercifully, another rain of blows descended upon him.

Five. Ten. Fifteen.

It was too much, and with a grating groan the wall finally collapsed into rubble and fine sand – his body sent skidding onto the floor of the other room.

He attempted to call for backup, surely someone would come to stop this!

He coughed out dust, the message failed to send. Something was blocking him.

“What-“ He coughed, hating how weak he sounded. “What do you think you’re doing?! Right after we were already attacked?! Do you really think this will put their minds at ease?!” His words started low but rose sharply as his mind began to clear.

Yà lì shān dà simply looked upon him as if he were an insect, cold and detached. Faintly he could see his creator’s companion and Chenyu banging upon an invisible barrier outside.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. You’re doing a bang up job comforting them,” Yà lì shān dà responded coldly, gesturing back the way they came.

What was he-

Taizong’s eyes widened as he heard something he had previously been unable to, the merciless impacts and the sound of ringing no longer present.

“Yes! We’re fine, Yà lì shān dà’s companion merely became quite wrothful after hearing of the attack committed upon us,” came his own voice.

Taizong’s eyes darted to a patch of ground behind Chenyu, something that should have been untouched from the violence of the last minute. Instead of smooth floor there was a hole, as if it had been sucked up and taken.

His eyes flicker back to his creator, or perhaps repurposed would be a better word?

“I’ve also set up a barrier that will ensure we’re not heard. Probably should have done it before the first punch, but I was a bit angry.” Despite the lackadaisical choice of words, his creator’s voice was as cold as ice – still staring him down imperiously.

Yà lì shān dà stepped forwards, and Taizong began to crawl backwards in fright – closing his eyes as he anticipated another blow.

“Taizong,” the voice was as sharp as an executioner’s blade, “You’re no longer in charge of international affairs.”

Taizong stopped moving back, his eyes opening in confusion.

“Wha-“

“Or anything involving foreigners, for that matter. Your judgement regarding them is clearly inept.” The words cut into him.

Taizong face, previously white, turned red.

“What!”

“Do I need to repeat myself? You’ll still retain control of domestic matters, but anything regarding elements outside of Jinzhou will have to be administered by someone else. Someone who won’t create a Titan out of neglect.”

“And if I refuse?!” He hissed out, outraged over the implication he was somehow unfit to guard his own people in any capacity.

“Then I’ll kill you.” The threat was naked, devoid of pretence and absolutely brutal. Looking into Yà lì shān dà’s eyes he could tell the threat was genuine, his creator would put him down if he did not comply.

“Do you think the people would stand for it?” Taizong scrambled for a way out, mind turning over itself for a solution.

His creator snorted.

“You do remember how you got that position remember? It was because I endorsed you. If I call for the necessity of splitting your duties with somebody else, then the people of Jinzhou would agree,” came the scathing reply. Before smiling grimly.

“Especially now. Apparently the city arriving right next to me is being seen as a miracle? Can’t say I’m happy being venerated in that manner, but it’s certainly convenient for situations like this.”

Taizong grit his teeth. Yes, many viewed his creator as a god. It was likely more would after today. Delivering salvation upon a people tended to bring out those views. Doing it a second time simply cemented the position.

“Do you really think anyone else could do a better job?”

Yà lì shān dà’s expression turned flat. “I left you alone for less than a month,” the words were spat out with barely subdued fury. “In that time you somehow ruined a girls mental state so thoroughly that she became a walking disaster that would have doomed Jinzhou, if not for the teleport.”

His creator stared down at him, their disgust only seeming to grow.

“You did everything else perfectly. But when it came to the group of infiltrators you somehow dropped the ball so hard it reached fucking Australia!” Blue hands curled as they roared that final line, and for a moment Taizong felt a dread certainty they would start swinging once more. Thankfully Yà lì shān dà released a breath and slowly unclenched them.

“And you seem to show no remorse over it, or even understanding of what it was that you did wrong!” Yà lì shān dà shook their head, as if in disbelief.

“I’m not sure anyone else could do a worse job if they tried!”

There was a pause, and Taizong felt a slow creeping realisation that, somehow, he had completely lost the trust of his creator. And over those invaders?!

“I’m not sure if you’re like this because of the way I made you or if it’s just you, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s been decided. That body double I just made of you is already spreading the good news.”

His shoulders slumped, a heavy mix of emotions settling in his gut. Shakily he pulled himself to his feet, feeling as graceful as a dung beetle.

“So that’s it then?” The question was asked with bitterness.

“That’s it,” came the reply with chilling finality.

Taizong reached up to rub his forehead. No mark was present, the wound having already repaired itself, but the pain lingered.

“Did you have to hit me into another room?”

The eyes across from him met his own, pinning him down like a butterfly.

“Yes.”

“Are you not going to explain why?” Taizong griped, surely the matter could have been settled using words? Why had his creator resorted to such barbarity?

“You’re too smart for your own good,” was the flat reply, briefly flummoxing Taizong.

“Such people can be a pain in the ass, because they can be very good at convincing others, but especially themselves, that they’re right. If I had just talked to you, tried to explain where you went wrong, you would have twisted my words to fit your worldview.”

They raised a fist, staring at it. Taizong suppressed a flinch.

“Violence is lot harder to misinterpret.”

He swallowed thickly, the bitter realisation filling him.

“I see so that’s why.” It was a harsh understanding, one brought upon by intense amounts of head trauma, but at least he could follow the logic. Could understand.

“Huh?” Alexander look up at him blankly. “Well that was part of the reason, anyway. Mostly it was because you deserved a good punch or three…or twenty.”

Taizong twitched.

“Anyway, remember what I said. I won’t be leaving like last time. This place will serving as my home, so don’t try to pull anything.” With that final warning Yà lì shān dà turned and strolled out of the room, being followed by an irate crimson samurai.

Leaving Taizong standing in the dust, pulverised stone scattered around him.

He took a breath before letting out a shuddering exhale, his nerves getting the best of him as he shivered slightly. His hand reached up to his forehead.

Sweat. He was sweating.

Something Yà lì shān dà had added purely to blend in with humanity, now turned into an expression of weakness – of fear.

“My lord? Are you alright?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Chenyu’s. Her face was stark white and her form was trembling. Ah, couldn’t have that.

The slight shivers ceased abruptly, and a slight smile graced his features – the mask returning to adorn him.

“My apologies, my dear! It seems you’ve gotten caught up in some dreadful business,” he kept his voice light and airy, even adding in a little chuckle at the end for effect.

He stepped forwards, taking both of her hands in his – attempting to comfort her. His thumbs rubbed against her palms, noting with some concern how cold they were.

“It appears you were right regarding the prisoners, I owe you an apology.” In truth he still didn’t comprehend how he had been wrong, but he knew better than to argue when every other voice rose up to drown out his own argument.

“I-I could have told you that, moron.” Taizong smiled at that reply, some of her former confidence returning.

“There’s no need for you to worry, their anger is with me.”

Her hands curled around his own, squeezing back. “I know! I know that! It’s just…”

She paused.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, you’re my teacher and-“

“I won’t,” he assured, “I won’t. So long as I don’t overreach they will be happy enough to ignore my presence.”

‘So long as I don’t have another opinion that is worth killing over,’ he pointedly didn’t say.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere that has less of a draft. You’re freezing,” he said, coaxing her away from the ruined room.

-Renji POV-

They strode past the fake Taizong, waving and smiling at the frightened personnel crowding around him. They stayed there for a time, allaying fears and worries. The entire time Alexander’s form resembled a tightly wound spring, any hint of pressure ready to set them off.

They managed to excuse themselves eventually, exiting the building.

A gust kissed Renji’s face as he left, causing him to blink and wave a hand through the air – testing the temperature. Sure enough it was warm, warmer than it should have been. Warmer than the inside of the building.

“Did the heating equipment get set up that quickly?” The samurai wondered to himself, causing his friend to snicker slightly.

“No, that would be my doing. I’m agitating the atoms in the air slightly, creating a higher temperature,” they explained.

“Oh.” Renji frowned, still waving his hand through the air in slight wonder. Even after all this time he was still amazed at what his friend could do. It was no wonder so many thought of them as a god, a belief Renji also shared.

Some might think that strange, to call one’s friend a god – especially after finding themselves face to face with that god’s flaws. But, to Renji, such things were not mutually exclusive. A god could be flawed. A god is capable of having friends, should they wish it.

Naturally, he didn’t intend to explain this to Alexander. No doubt he’d get weirded out over it.

Still…

“Isn’t it too warm?” The question sprang from his lips as he fanned himself lightly. The air was not just warm, it could be described as ‘barmy’. It definitely seemed like overkill if his friend just wanted to ward away the cold.

“Are you forgetting about the outer edges of the city? The places my range doesn’t reach? This way the heat expanding outwards will reach a decent temperature when it gets to those places. If I kept this location at a lower temperature then they wouldn’t see much benefit.”

Renji turned the explanation over in his head. It made sense, it wasn’t something immediately obvious but he supposed indirect manipulations on areas outside Alexander’s range was possible in that manner.

“Of course, this is just temporary,” his friend elaborated further. “Once preparations are finished I won’t need to continue doing this, although…” They trailed off.

Alexander’s eyes darted towards the sky contemplatively.

“I might need to set up another barrier, if only to stop the wind from stripping away the warmth. It’s not very strong right now, but in the future It could be.” They stopped, before nodding their head.

“Yes. That’s something I could do,” they said, before continuing on with more surety.

Renji scrambled to catch up, coming to their side as he looked up inquisitively at his friend.

“So should I even ask about what happened in there?”

Alexander glanced down.

“He talked shit, he got hit. What’s there to talk about?” The answer was dismissive, and Renji caught more than a faint hint of distaste leaking through.

He continues to stare up at his friend, eyebrow raised and questioning. His friend should already understand why he was so worried.

Alexander weathers the stare for a moment, before sighing wearily. Their stride doesn’t slow but their footfalls seem heavier, more sombre.

“Do you think I could have convinced him any other way?” The question is almost whispered.

Renji cocks his head in thought. Immediately he dismisses the idea that his friend felt guilty for hurting Taizong, that rage and disgust had been genuine and he couldn’t imagine his friend’s mind changing so quickly.

Perhaps it was because of the assistant? It was certainly possible, and likely fed into the rather vulnerable sounding question, but that didn’t feel like the answer either.

“You didn’t think you could convince him any other way,” Renji observed, remembering the words Alexander had spoken to Taizong. “Are you ashamed of that?”

To Renji, that would be understandable. Becoming aware of one’s own limitations was a…sobering experience. The pain and regret he had felt when his weapon had broke against the invincible body of Alexandria had seared that truth into his mind.

“I had resolved to being clever, y’know?” Alexander’s statement was light, almost airy, as if contemplating the idea. “So much of my troubles occurred due to wilful ignorance on my part, so I endeavoured to think things through. But when I met with Taizong, and when he told me of what he did with such an unbothered face-“

They cut themselves off. Renji did not need to look at them to intuit what they were feeling.

“You are though. That bit with the temperature, the old Alexander probably would have accidentally frozen the outer parts of the city before realising that they had made a mistake. You had already considered that, and now you’re off to build another solution to a problem this city might face.”

“I-“ They paused. “I suppose that’s true.”

Despite the words, Renji got the feeling Alexander was unconvinced.

“Besides, it’s not like you won’t have other opportunities to convince him. You’ll be close enough to occasionally drop in,” Renji suggested, drawing a slow nod from Alexander.

“I think,” Alexander said, his gaze fixed towards the horizon, “That maybe I should speak to Sanzang. He would have advice on how to handle things more rationally and-“

Alexander swallowed, looking down.

“I think he’ll be able to help me with my other issues. You’ve done a fantastic job Renji but…I don’t want you to have to feel responsible for that.”

Renji swivelled his head, now gazing upon a set of white eyes staring back. The owner of those eyes smiled. It was a calm smile, a peaceful smile – something unbound and free. An expression Alexander had rarely shown, more used to showing subdued expressions of happiness – or performances of them.

“I’ll be fine Renji. I was just feeling a bit contemplative.”

The smile widened into something more manic.

“Besides, getting to punch that smug face? Definitely helped a lot!”

Renji laughed at that, quickly being joined by Alexander as they continued to head towards the outer wall. The sun stretched low, hues of orange dancing luridly across the white fields of snow. Looking at that laughing figure, surrounded by a city that held only their best interests, Renji got the feeling that their friend would be okay.

AN: Somehow managed to complete this in three days, so I guess I have a day off. Neat. Would have continued, but this felt like a natural stopping point. So yeah, diplomacy successful?

Taizong having to share duties, and removing his responsibilities towards outside actors definitely felt like something Alexander would have immediately done. Normally they’re not one to swing their authority around, but Taizong definitely spurred them on to use it.

Also therapy POG. Not sure if I should show that or leave it in the background, but it’ll definitely be happening. The presence of the city itself, and having people to talk to who won’t scream ‘Endbringer’ will definitely help. Your thoughts?

Thanks for reading, please leave a comment!