Chapter 26: A Look Inside

-Han POV-

Life as a freed prisoner was odd. Sometimes he felt like the world was moving too slow, the frantic pace and struggle of his time in the camps making his transition into normalcy jarring. It wasn’t something to complain about, especially not after learning first hand the sort of problems complaining could cause, not the he thought merciful Yà lì shān dà would ever imprison him for mere words.

It didn’t stop him from worrying though. The idea that everything nice that was currently occurring would be suddenly and violently ripped away was clearly irrational, but he simply couldn’t help it.

Perhaps that was why he had joined the cult.

Oh, they didn’t call themselves a cult. The Temple of Our Blessed Lady was how they preferred to be called. But it was a cult, there weren’t nearly enough members in his eyes to be upgraded to a proper religion yet.

That was no great shame, it would simply take time.

Yà lì shān dà would eventually depart, something that still saddened many members of the faithful, and wherever she went her benevolence would be clear to all. No doubt there would be many converts in the coming days.

It was why those few that refused to join confused him.

There had been no grand revelation for Han himself, it was simply common sense. Yà lì shān dà was immensely powerful, supremely kind, had built for them a promised land and had supposedly once mentioned offhandedly that she didn’t age.

That is just a straight up god.

Han knew a few rabble rousers of the ‘clergy’ wished to forcefully convert the non-believers, but thankfully cooler heads had prevailed. Clearly if Yà lì shān dà though them to be unworthy they never would have been allowed into this sacred city.

No, he was more concerned with the plan to liberate any further prisoners and bring them to New Jinzhou. They had not been chosen, by what right should they be allowed to take a single step upon their home?

He grunted as he lifted a wooden beam on his shoulder, marvelling at the ease of lifting it. The miraculous healing of their lady reversing the starvation and neglect of his physical vessel.

Han and another worker hefted the wood between them and carried it over to the skeletal form of an incomplete temple. He carefully laid down the length of wood, allowing others to help hold it steady as screws were inserted.

Building places of worship wasn’t a skillset any of them truly knew, but a few were familiar with building houses and the Holy Spirit that ran through this city’s networks provided the method and resources. The place of worship was being built near the outskirts of New Jinzhou, many would have liked it to be closer but practical considerations won out.

The temple they were building was simply too large to fit the crowded centre of the city, and to try to make room for it would require knocking down many of the buildings Yà lì shān dà had personally erected.

Which would be a blasphemy.

It was better this way, Han decided. From this city and the last everyone knew Yà lì shān dà had an appreciation of nature, it was the entire reason as to why they would be adding an extensive cloister to the temple. The other parts of the church would be similarly filled with vegetation, the designs he had seen included rows of flower filled vases and chandeliers of glowing vines taken from the city.

One could perhaps argue that they were going overboard the plants, and indeed many had. However, as shameful as it was, it was one of the few things they knew their Lady enjoyed.

When one thought of a god they typically imagined something loud and boisterous, unashamed and open in their pride regarding themselves. Yà lì shān dà was decidedly none of that.

She was quiet, reserved and intensely introverted. She gave her thoughts rarely and allowed her face to show little else.

They had attempted to ask her companion Lord Renji, but while he had divulged a few precious details even he knew little regarding their Lady. It was a realisation that seemed to unnerve the young Lord, so they decided not to ask again.

Han chuckled lightly. It was something that made writing the Holy Book extremely difficult. More than a few had privately bemoaned the fact that their sacred tome was less than thirty pages long. Most of which revolved around the creation of New Jinzhou, and regardless of how flowery the language you could only fill so many pages using that.

Perhaps if they hadn’t chosen such a large book they would have more pages, but apparently a holy book was supposed to be ‘impressive’.

There were currently a few following their lady as she traversed around the city, but it was hard to write anything down when the subject of their attention hardly ever said a word.

Hell, one of the few times a member of their faith had worked up the courage to ask her about her actions in Japan she had merely replied with:

“Appeared in Kyushu, stayed there a while and decided to rebuild the city and raise it from the waters.”

Her reply had been said with the same level of enthusiasm regarding her own miracle as Han himself would have regarding grocery shopping.

The chuckling became a short bark of laughter. Many of his fellow workers looked at him in confusion, but he simply waved them off.

It was endearing in a way. To have a god who thought so little of her own actions, who didn’t bask in her own accomplishments and demand endless praise. Nothing like the worthless lumps of flesh that had pushed him around in the camps.

Yes, perhaps others might be frustrated at their deity’s laconic nature but Han himself found it reassuring. His Lady wasn’t the type to lose herself in arrogance and see herself as above the world, even if -objectively- she was.

If she wasn’t building she was surveying. If she wasn’t surveying she was involved in a meeting regarding the city’s future. If she wasn’t in a meeting she was likely doing something else to better their lives.

Truly, a god worth worshipping.

-Fu Hong POV-

He signed another sheet, his pen flowing across the paper to form his signature.

As a former official he was well acquainted with matters of governance and politics, as well as the slow and tiring grind of bureaucracy. Before he had been framed for the ill deeds of his superior he had dreaded the mediocrity of filing papers and making spreadsheets. Now he all but through himself into the work.

The excitement he had foolishly wanted was no longer of much allure. He had had enough excitement in the camp for three lifetimes.

The glimmer of light caught his eye, and he turned and smiled sadly at a photo of his late wife and child. They had been killed during his arrest, apparently an accident but he knew better than to trust the words of the C.U.I.

His eyes lingered on each detail of the picture, The soft curve of Jian Hua’s lips and the way the light caught her hair.

The photo was a result of something Yà lì shān dà created. Apparently she had heard a man weeping, lamenting on his lost friends and family and having nothing to remember them.

An hour later a factory designed to make modified ‘brain dance’ equipment was laid down and created. No fanfare, no planning or committee. Simply completed in an afternoon and swiftly forgotten by their creator.

But, for as small as it seemed to their shared benefactor, it had been an act of unparalleled kindness to those who had lost everything. For these devices allowed you to take a memory and digitise it.

Photos, videos and captured emotions regarding their loved ones did not erase the grief, for nothing could, but it dulled the edge. It allowed them to remember and take solace in the fact that they wouldn’t forget the faces of their loved ones.

It was this device that had thrown him out of his funk. Listening to the memory of his wife laugh, and remembering all the plans they had made for the future, Fu Hong knew he couldn’t give up on himself. Jian Hua would never forgive him if he did.

So he applied to join the nascent government. His skills were in short supply and he quickly found himself bouncing between offices advising and offering consultation as the functions of government began to define themselves.

Some of his advice admittedly didn’t apply. Fu Hong was well used to navigating corruption, and even reluctantly using it for his own benefit. However Taizong kept a watchful eye out to prevent such things from forming.

The city’s V.I also invalidated parts of his knowledge, as parts of the bureaucracy could run automatically, only occasionally checked to ensure the intelligence hadn’t made an error somewhere along the way.

Eventually everyone settled into their roles and he became less of a consultant and more of a full time employee.

Despite everything he found himself reluctantly pleased with the direction his life was going. The hours he was working were absurdly short compared to what he was used, because of the automation and the smaller holdings of the local government, and the pay was good.

Entertainment was a little lacking, but the internet had recently come back on, so at least there was that.

Most importantly he felt good to actually be doing something. His time in the C.U.I. felt like running in place in comparison, more effort for almost no result. Here he was shaping policies and seeing tangible effects from his efforts.

He didn’t believe that Yà lì shān dà was a goddess, like so many others. Far more likely she was a parahuman of unusual strength and kindness. He didn’t blame anyone who believed in her however. There were certainly worse gods, and it definitely helped give the city a sense of national identity. Plus, at the very least, the big blue parahuman lady didn’t seem like they were the type to abuse another’s faith.

His eyes left the portrait of his wife and returned to his paperwork, a short and to the point piece regarding zoning laws. He saw no issue with it as it stood and so signed it and added it to the pile.

Fu Hong smiled, eager to see the coming days with his own eyes.

-Chubster POV-

“WAS IT SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS LONG?” Chubster yelled over the rushing winds as he hurtled downwards, the straps of his backpack clinging to him harshly.

The teleporter falling at his side said nothing, but her face betrayed her nervousness.

For whatever reason teleporters like Strider were unable to access Jinzhou, as well as a small area surrounding the land. It had been theorised to be some manner of tinkertech defence, or possibly a shaker effect.

Instead they had decided to teleport directly above the zone inhibiting teleportation, the few drones they had sent ahead confirming there was nothing actively hostile awaiting them. Ben had encountered plenty of defences that neglected attacks coming from above, far more than there should be given the average cape’s propensity to attack from rooftops and other high places.

However that was clearly not the case here as now -it seemed- they were facing their first roadblock, for despite falling for well over ten minutes they appeared to be no closer to the city they saw faintly beneath them.

Ben had encountered plenty of spatial effects during the span of his career, and none of them were good news. The fact that this one seemed purely defensive and benign was nothing but pure luck. If this was the sort of defensives they were set to go up against...

“Shuffle, get us out of here. We’ll try again a different way.

Shuffle nodded, the black bandanna covering their face whipping around wildly.

A moment passed.

And then another.

“Shuffle? I said get us out of here?!”

But Shuffle’s eyes were wide, almost bulging out of their skull. Ben noticed -with slight fear- that they appeared to be having a panic attack mid-air. Even the others were looking at her in alarm at this point.

He reached out to grab her by the shoulder.

“Shuffle! Shuffle, Look at me! What’s wrong?”

Shuffle shook in his grasp, her wide and terrified eyes coming to meet his.

“I can’t!”

The words were like liquid cold. Ben felt himself stiffen, as a chill gripped his heart.

“Shuffle,” He said, lips dry and desperately hoping it wasn’t what he though it was, “What can’t you do?”

Her reply would confirm his worst fears.

“I can’t teleport! We’re stuck! I’m stuck!”

Shuffle’s words were manic in their intensity and Ben almost lost his grip from her thrashing.

For a long while there was only the roaring of wind and the gibbering of Shuffle, as the rest of the team fell in silence.

“Well, fuck” Wayfarer said.

Ben hated that he agreed.

AN: So here’s a little look into life at New Jinzhou through the eyes of a member of the cult dedicated to Alexander and a paper pusher. Things are going well and the citizens are finding their feet, whether it be through religion or something else.

The PRT black ops squad is here, and they’re currently stuck. Funny thing about the defence Alexander set up: teleporters can transport themselves inside but stop at the point of no return. So if a teleporter ports in and then takes a step then he won’t be able to teleport. Unfortunately for Chubster’s squad they chose to come at it from above, so gravity dragged them past that line.

Still they won’t be falling forever. They’ll eventually land in a few hours. I’m sure the city will welcome them with open arms!

Thanks for reading, please leave a comment!