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Chapter LXXXIII: Neither Blind nor Mute.

  Such a tiny human in a ginormous room. Such a fragile body in the halls of brutalism.

  She approaches him alone, and with a haste not wasted on formality.

  The lights were turned off, yet through her white mask, she saw perfectly fine.

  And so did Gauth Van Hulsieg.

  “Welcome, Septimus. You may relinquish your hold to silence.”

  “Thank you, Gauth Van Hulsieg.” The mute Septimus spoke.

  Her voice was soft yet juvenile. Befitting, as her forehead barely stood above his knees at her highest.

  Gauth extended his hand down to her— so low he had to bend over. And she graciously accepts. He picks her up by her arms and lifts her up to sit on his forearm. He held her like a falconer, and she sits on his forearm like a bench.

  Gauth Van Hulsieg walks out the balcony doorway into the rain of the bustling city. Septimus remained comfortable, for her master walked with a mechanical precision. It was a smoother ride than the best luxury vehicle ever made. Her legs dangled off the edge, kicking them like a playground while she kept her hands gripped onto his greatcoat.

  The winds blew wildly. The air was thin out here.

  But the horrible view made it up for them both.

  Thickets of smog roamed across the industrial areas afar. Lighting continued to strike the coil to produce power, as if this was somehow normal. Because it somehow is. The only color allowed in this land, made by man, not nature.

  No more was that true as the first visages of the Neosun began to rise as a haze through the clouds.

  Deep, maroon clouds. The color reminds her of the wall.

  “What was that stain on the wall master Gauth Van Hulsieg?”

  She asked in his ear. His very breaths cause more air to move than the wind itself as he speaks. “It was perception.”

  “Was that your Tiger?” Septimus asked as she looked at him. As his head turns towards her, she looks away into the Neosun rise.

  Gauth Van Hulsieg is perhaps the only person who could know where she's looking under that mask.

  “No Septimus. That wasn't Cringer. I love her too much to harm. She will soon come and clean that mess off the wall.”

  Her master looks away, into the same Neosunrise she does. She speaks again. “Is that what happened to Proteus too? Is he cat food?”

  Her master groaned with his mouth closed at the question. Yet as she gets soaked and he somehow remains dry, he answers her; the Neosun ever so higher.

  “No. I have too much respect for Proteus to let him be desecrated in death.” Septimus kicks her legs again and starts humming.

  “Mmmhmmmhmmm, Proteus isn't cat food.”

  The two remain there as thunder enters their ears. The beauty of the landscape is within its grand abhorrence.

  Her master groaned again as the Neosun reaches halfway risen.

  The sight is being ruined by the Neosun.

  No matter how synthetic, he hates it for all that it is. Or at least, that's what Septimus thinks as the giant turns around to go back inside the throne room.

  She can see a look on his face, but only he could know what it is.

  “Get off now. I am going to the throne.” He orders.

  She complies without a word, jumping off his arm which would've been around a ten foot drop. She combat rolls as she hits the floor to disperse the momentum through her body.

  She rises just as fast as she fell and turns around, to see he already sits on the throne. Impressive speed, yet alone for someone of that stature.

  Perfectly quiet too.

  Her master snaps his fingers and the balcony door starts to close. Just as all light snuffs out from the outside, the interior lights buzz on in the inside. And a low growl from her right confirms her master's assessment.

  Cringer the Tiger strides up to him and rests near his boots.

  It doesn't go to eat up the viscera yet.

  This is because Gauth Van Hulsieg hasn't commanded it to.

  “So, Septimus… have you dealt with the American Agricultural League as I have asked?”

  “Yes master Gauth Van Hulsieg. Their leadership has permanently retired from business.” The Chief liquidator replies.

  She feels a compulsion to pat the Tiger, though even she can tell that would be a bad idea. Her master rejoices her progress.

  “Kubaal Aetheon will purchase their shares in the Agri-Spires once the market reacts to the news. This brings me to my next mission for you, Septimus…”

  Her master reaches out his hand, having pulled out now-ancient texts scribed on parchment.

  Septimus didn't know what they were, nor what they meant.

  “There is something I must do. In earnest. Do you promise to be mute upon my command?”

  “Yes, master Gauth Van Hulsieg.” Septimus confirms sincerely.

  She approaches closer, Cringer not daring to growl. She put her hand on her paws as she got closer to him. But her master needs more confirmation. “Do you promise to be mute forever, we're I to order you to?”

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  “Of course, sir Gauth Van Hulsieg. Though I can only ever try my best.” Septimus confirms again, ever closer; about an arm's length from his seat.

  The seat of the throne was more like a monolith. A slab of etched, ebony stone. Engravings carved of gold. Her head could barely see over it.

  “That is all I can ever ask you to do.” Gauth Van Hulsieg shares as he extends his hand. He lowers the texts to her like a secret. She took them gently and looked at what they said.

  Not before her master tells her of regret.

  “So too fades the lengths of dying lights. So too are hallowed hills within the alpines of the mountains. This was supposed to be the errands of your former colleague. Yet now I give them to you, Septimus. Not to search. But to ponder.”

  His words don't quite register with her. But that's okay. At least for now. She can still speak. And now, she reads…

  “Void Death in Another World - IV

  Value is assigned by perception. Disconnect between how we see ourselves and how we are seen by others is the root of external conflict. In truth, no one can truly be ‘at the top’ unless they define their own worth independently. But such a person does not exist in the real world. It is simply impossible in a human society.”

  She looks up to him after reading, like a child seeking the council of their caregiver.

  “I ponder there are more such as this. Do you have them for me?”

  “I do.” Her master replies. And so, he hands her another.

  “Void Death in Another World - III

  Hedonism isn’t the pursuit of excessive indulgence— it is a desperate fee from the ordinary. Their lives are empty not because they seek more, but because they are terrified of the mundanity of life; of being forced to confront its simple truths. We aren’t designed to avoid obstacles, but to follow the path we believe is right. Not to stop, but to start. As we view society from the ground up, not from the top down.”

  Septimus looks back up again after reading.

  “It is funny, you give them in reverse order. This sounds like the opposite of you, Gauth Van Hulsieg.”

  “Perhaps it is.” He comments. The lights dim as he spoke, and stay dim. He stands from the throne while she moves out of his way.

  Both ignore Cringer.

  Septimus figures these are the last of these texts he'll hand her.

  He walked forward with hands behind his back; perhaps his favorite posture. Septimus continues to look up to him. Of course, everyone looks up to him. Anyone that can see him.

  Gauth Van Hulsieg’s voice was heavier.

  That was all she could tell was different as he spoke again.

  “Cerberus is preparing for an invasion of that rebellion. The one with the man named John. His force will use analog tech to avoid SERaMACs. And therefore, I cannot trust him to lead that assault. He is too augmented.”

  “Perhaps you should lead it?” Septimus comments, tilting her head slightly at the prospect.

  Her master doesn't react beyond his following comment.

  “I yearn to, Septimus. An assault wouldn't be needed with my presence. But I must stay here for now, and overlook this society I have built. And I must take over from where Manticore and Proteus have left off.”

  Gauth Van Hulsieg turns his head to look behind, a singular eye peering across to her above his coat neck.

  “I imagine you would glad to accept this task.”

  Septimus covers where her mouth should be and giggles.

  “Of course I would! Not that it would matter before your word, Gauth Van Hulsieg.”

  “I am making it matter.” He declares. He turns back around, the lights more like what once used to be the moon glow. He takes a giant, careful, gentle knee in front of her; Cringer comes to smooch the knee he lowered.

  He leans over further, his face almost in line with hers.

  There may as well have been no mask between them as he runs a solitary finger down the side of her cheek before he spoke.

  “And I'm glad you are keen. Though make sure of this, do not kill anyone if it puts you at risk. I am making your survival more important than their deaths. My planned task for you… is that you observe for me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, master Gauth Van Hulsieg.” She agrees in her usual tone, even if he seems… different. He runs his finger down her cheek one more time.

  “Do you promise to never speak again once I tell you the command?” He asks.

  “What is the command?” She replies.

  He keeps his finger there as he tells her.

  “The command is silence. Do you hear silence?”

  Septimus looks at him for a moment.

  She gives it a second of thought.

  And as she replies, she never spoke.

  She just nodded her head.

  “That's right Septimus.” Her master says as he finally stands tall, removing his finger from her face, rising to his full authority.

  “Your task is to observe. And to protect what I have given you. After this mission, I will have one more for you. Do you understand, Septimus?”

  She nods again. The lights have nearly dimmed to absolution. He makes way for her, the stairway lights igniting as he steps aside. He gestures courtishly towards it and, with a last look up at him, she makes her way to the exit.

  The steps are fun to go down, even if they are just steps.

  All the stuff; statues, figures, paintings on the wall don't really matter. Not just because they're not as fun as the stares, but because she has a purpose to fulfill.

  And the plan from there? Even simpler. Find Cerberus. Write to him what's happening. Proceed with his forces to the enemy base.

  The tendrils of the Neosun stretched far and wide over the cityscape.

  As she looked out the elevator window, they came from her right and leaked towards her left.

  The elevator door closes for her, not even realizing she had forgotten to select the floor. She looks back, seeing SERaMACs has chosen the right one for her. Yet it didn't speak. SERaMACs usually speaks.

  No matter, she continues to formulate the plan from there.

  Hide wherever unseen, and see all that may be hidden. Then after that? Come back to the Ivory Tower for one last mission for her master.

  The door opens behind her and… oh look!

  It's the big fat Cerberus, she thought playfully.

  He looked down upon her with a calmness that was unbefitting. And he spoke with accordance.. “I know what you're here to tell me. It is fine. I must convene with Douglas De Shult.”

  He moves aside for her to proceed past him.

  “My men will be ready soon. You will arrive for the assault by dusk.”

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