Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (98)

Lindon unleashed the arm of Subject One. He stopped holding its power back, and felt it resonate with the endless, insatiable hunger of the Void Icon.

“Consume,” the Void Sage said.

The images on the white background flickered like reflections on a pond as thoughts and madra slammed into Lindon. Ancient will struck him like a truck, but he powered through the Dreadgod’s resistance.

As the Silent King responded, its voice warbled. The connection between them was growing thin. “Ambitious. Let’s see if your protector can hold up.”

The Dreadgod raised a claw and flicked it at Dross, who shone with purple madra as he braced himself.

Lindon reached out with his left hand and caught the claw.

“Wrong again,” Lindon said. “He’s not my protector. I’m his.”

Dross had overburdened to protect him from the strain of a Dreadgod’s mind once.

That was one time too many.

[Lindon,] Dross muttered, [You are steadfast and reassuring, but I am approaching my limit.]

Indeed, the memories from the Silent King were flowing through Dross and into Lindon. As Lindon had experienced before, another’s identity was drowning his. He remembered ruling a jungle, remembered controlling thousands of minds. Battling ancient Monarchs. Remembered the thirst for new memories, new experiences.

[Lindon?]

“Consume.”

Lindon couldn’t think about anything else. He had one singular focus, and he didn’t need to survive to achieve his goal.

As long as he didn’t bend.

“Idiocy,” the Silent King said, though his voice was faint. “This is a fragment of me. You can’t…reach…”

Lindon moved a step forward, even as the space flickered. Even when he forgot what he was doing.

He kept Consuming, and he walked forward.

[Lindon!]

The power rushed through him and eroded his thoughts, but he kept pushing.

He would push until he broke.





At first, Dross enjoyed the thrill of approaching doom. The risk made him feel alive.

Then Lindon had started to fight against the Silent King, and Dross felt much as he had when the sky blackened: that at least they would die together, as one.

Then Lindon took the blow meant for him.

Dross could see every one of Lindon’s thoughts. He had to push to access memories, but surface thoughts were harder to ignore than to witness. So he heard it, clear as a song, when Lindon resolved to die before Dross.

And Dross heard what Lindon meant by “Dross.”

In the weeks since Dross had come back to awareness, he had tried several new personalities. Lindon had looked at the problem like a Soulsmith, trying to find a solution. To fix him.

The reality was, Dross knew how to return to his old self. He had known…perhaps not the entire time. There was a while after waking when he had been very confused.

He knew, though. He knew how to return.

But the old personality had failed. He had failed Lindon by breaking.

Dross was looking for a new Dross, a better Dross. One that wouldn’t flinch in the face of death and could endure the threats they faced. He liked his current personality, which helped him to enjoy those moments of danger.

Even though, every time Lindon said Dross’ name, he was asking for the old Dross. The original. The one he’d been before.

Which made Dross wonder: if my personality changes, will he throw me away?

That was an unworthy thought, and one he was embarrassed to have. Lindon had proven himself many times, and Dross could search through the man’s memories at leisure. But now, he admitted to himself that the main reason he had stayed in his current configuration was to see what Lindon would do.

Would Lindon try to forcibly recreate the old Dross? Would he get used to the new one? If Dross’ personality changed, would Lindon grow hate him?

Now, he heard what Lindon meant when he challenged the Silent King. He knew who Lindon swore to protect with his life.

This time, when Lindon said Dross, he meant Dross. In all his mutations and transformations. Dross, his companion. His mind-spirit.

His friend.

And Dross found that he didn’t need his new personality anymore.

He shook the darkness off his form, and the skin of his projected form became brighter to match his old outlook. He searched his memories, shifted his perspective…

His shame doubled.

Some of the things he’d said were so embarrassing. And had he really held a new form just to test Lindon? He had issues.

All that realization occurred almost instantly, and Lindon was still in trouble. Dross had to do something.

Fortunately, Dross was positively bursting with stolen power. Not enough to hold back a Dreadgod forever.

But enough to make a change.





Lindon was drowning in alien thoughts, clinging to his determination like a rock in the middle of raging rapids.

Then he heard an old, familiar voice.

[Lindon! Wow, you really are hanging in there, huh? Blink twice if you’re still sane!]

Lindon’s resolve shook.

[Sorry! Sorry. Don’t let me distract you with my self-revelation. But since you’re blocking the Silent King’s will, I’m going to slow this space. It’s too fast, and that’s going to boil your brain. I mean, uh…yeah, “boil your brain” is accurate.]