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Several months had passed since the Surtakatul was defeated by Sam. Although the calamity had never made it to the capital—in a non-butterfly form—the city’s layout had been completely rearranged. The towering buildings ceased to exist, the vertical space they had occupied was still the same but had been relocated within the ground. The tallest buildings, and most noticeable ones, were now the temples on an elevated plaza with circular steps made from pure gold, allowing people to ascend from any direction. Once they were atop the plaza, their view was unobstructed for miles with trees and mountains on the horizon. When the sun rose or set, the clouds were highlighted with orange and red hues from underneath, creating an iridescent background for the temples.
Speaking of the temples, Sam wasn’t sure how to feel about his familiars shifting aside buildings to make the places of worship for themselves. It was as if he were an ant watching on the sideline as a spider went about hunting his fellow ants—and he was the one who had brought the spider to the colony. When a human entered the temple of Nwaps, they were greeted with a handshake by a bishop, who was infected by the golden tapeworm. Once the unsuspecting person took the bishop’s hand, they became infected as well. Likewise, with Venusians acting as angels for the other temples, they weren’t honest places of worship either with guidance
“I don’t do anything to them after infecting them,” Nwaps said, the golden tapeworm poking out of Sam’s nose. Its head nudged against the butterfly’s rear end, causing Ess’ wings to flap, refreshing the sulfuric smell in Sam’s nostrils. “I’m merely taking precautionary measures by reading their thoughts. If they want to harm you in the future, we’ll be ready for them. As you know, knowledge is power.”
Sam ignored the sensation of the tapeworm wriggling about his nostril. Despite its movements, he never once had the urge to sneeze. If he had to take a guess, he’d say Nwaps was controlling the region of his brain related to sneezing to prevent itself from being shot out of his nose on accident. No doubt, it was similar to the way the tapeworm would ready itself against a potential coup it discovered cooking up in someone’s mind; it’d twist the person’s thoughts, and the coup would be forgotten as easily as last year’s dinner. No, perhaps, the coup would never even surface up in the person’s conscious thoughts at all.
“That’s right,” Nwaps said. “With me around, you won’t have to worry about things like betrayal or people hiding in the shadows waiting to bring you down. Ark shall never fall due to underhanded tricks.”
If Sam cared about the company he was the CEO of, Nwaps words might’ve meant something, but Sam wasn’t emotionally invested at all. It didn’t matter to Sam whether Ark fell or not since he wasn’t even the one who wanted to establish it in the first place. His familiars had entrenched themselves within humanity, and unless the blue avians showed up, the higher-dimensional creatures weren’t going anywhere. Where were the blue avians anyway? Had they dealt with the Surtakatul’s roaming rear end yet?
Sam connected to his stone tablet, one of the few actions his familiars granted him the freedom to do. He searched through the reptilians’ network, looking for information about the Surtakatul and the blue avians, but as expected of the beings who lived underground and—mostly—minded their own business, there weren’t any reports or sightings Sam was interested in. Well, even if the blue avians did show up, it wasn’t his problem since his familiars would do their best to evacuate him. “Doesn’t establishing Ark give the blue avians an easy target to attack?”
“Yes,” Vercedei said. “It’s true having a nest creates a weakness for oneself, but if the benefits outweigh the detriments, then it’s worth making, don’t you think?”
Sam supposed so, but his familiars wouldn’t elaborate much on how the vibrations created by people through prayer enhanced the higher-dimensional beings, so he couldn’t be certain. “Are the benefits enough to fend off blue avians if the whole colony decides to come after us?”
“Absolutely,” Vercedei said. The twin-headed snake continued after a short pause. “However, we have to reach a certain point first before that can happen. If every human within the capital worships us, we’ll be able to defend without retreating. If every reptilian and mantid worship us as well, then we can defeat the blue avians and drive them from their own nest.”
“Don’t the blue avians realize this?” Sam asked. “If they don’t get rid of Ark now, then they’ll have to prevent the mantids and reptilians from worshipping you if they want to survive.”
“No doubt,” Vercedei said. “It’s why they always go after a higher-dimensional being the moment they appear on Oterra. Hopefully, by the time the blue avians take action, it’ll be too late for them to do anything about it. With the Surtakatul distracting them, maybe, they’ll forget about us for a while.”
Sam stroked the sloth attached to his stomach and leaned back, allowing himself to rest completely on the wooly pig underneath him. Would his familiars take over Oterra that easily? One distraction, a Surtakatul which could be killed by just a handful of blue avians, would that buy enough time for his familiars to convert everyone within the city? The odds of that happening were low, and considering Sam’s luck in life….
There was a knock on the door, and Sam didn’t bother sitting up. However, an illusion of the Venusian version of him was created on the spot, sitting in a comfortable chair. “Come in,” Vercedei said, speaking for the illusion.
The door opened, and Wendy entered the room. “Queen Annabeth wrote up a report for you,” she said and placed a stack of papers on the table. “While she was paving the way to Silva Volucris, she encountered blue avians who were searching for you.”
The illusion of Sam picked up the report as Sam used telekinesis to make it float in front of his face, so the twin-headed snake could read it. “Have you read it?” Vercedei asked.
“I haven’t,” Wendy said and lowered her head. “I’ll be taking my leave now, Sam.”
Vercedei grunted, and Wendy left the room. “You jinxed us,” the twin-headed snake said in Sam’s mind. “You just had to think those thoughts about the blue avians coming our way before we were ready, and now, they’re actually coming.”
Sam would’ve rolled his eyes if they weren’t covered by the twin-headed snake’s purple head. It was only logical for the blue avians to disrupt his familiars’ plan. Whether he thought about it or not didn’t make a difference because the report was definitely written before he had the thoughts; it wasn’t him manifesting trouble like his familiar was accusing him of. “I guess you better be prepared to run,” Sam said, responding to Vercedei in his mind.
“Rather than running, we should accelerate the conversion rate,” Vercedei said. “Nwaps, I think you have to revisit your policy of only taking preventative actions.”
Would the prayers of mind-controlled individuals be as valuable as the prayers of those who weren’t? Sam had assumed that wasn’t the case since the tapeworm hadn’t already taken over people’s thoughts and actions, forcing them to pray all day and night.
“Forcing people to pray doesn’t count,” Nwaps said. “In order for prayer to be effective for us higher-dimensional beings, the ones who pray to us must be doing so of their own free will; otherwise, their sparks of creation won’t trigger.”
If that was the case, how was Nwaps supposed to accelerate the conversion process? If the tapeworm couldn’t force people to be religious, how were they going to sincerely offer up their prayers to the familiars?
“That’s simple,” Nwaps said. “Why do people request for help from a higher power?” The tapeworm wriggled about, causing Sam’s nostril to feel a strong sense of discomfort. “Why did you turn to us when you were at your lowest point?”
“I was in a hopeless situation,” Sam said to tapeworm through his mind, “and there was no one else for me to turn to.”
“Exactly,” Nwaps said. “If other people were in your situation, wouldn’t they do the same as well?”
“You’re going to put them into hopeless situations?” Sam asked. If the tapeworm took control of the bodies of those it infected, it could force them to do questionable actions that’d plunge them into despair.
“That’s too much work,” Nwaps said. “It’s easier to simply prod the right parts of their brains. Even if their lives are good, without certain chemicals and receptors working properly in those fleshy control boxes, they’ll feel miserable. I can simply induce the feeling of hopelessness and emptiness onto their physical bodies, and in turn, it’ll reflect on their souls.”
In other words, the tapeworm was going to give its multiple hosts depression.
“Depression that can only be resolved through prayer,” Nwaps said. “Of course, their family, friends, and other pillars of support will suggest, with a little of my influence, heading to the temples to relieve them of their woes.”
If that could work, then Sam had a question. “You didn’t do that earlier because…?”
“If the vibes of a large group of people drop at once,” Nwaps said, “the negativity may draw unwanted attention.”
“From what?” Sam asked. “Blue avians?”
“They don’t have a negativity detector,” Nwaps said. “There are other higher-dimensional beings, albeit ones much less impressive than ourselves, that are attracted to negative energy.”
“Well, if you’re so impressive, those higher-dimensional beings shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Sam asked.
“Not to us, but you saw how the humans couldn’t handle the Surtakatul, and there was only one of it,” Nwaps said. “How do you think humanity will fare against a horde of demons?”
“That depends on how strong the demons are, doesn’t it?” Sam asked. If blue avians could defend Oterra from them, then surely, he could too. However, wouldn’t that be a hassle if he had to fight every higher-dimensional being that showed itself? Yesterday was the Surtakatul, today was the demons, so wouldn’t tomorrow bring something as well? “Why can’t we coexist with the blue avians again?”
“Simply put, freedom,” Vercedei said, “that’s what it boils down to, and we’d much rather face danger whilst free than live a life in caged security.”
Was Vercedei taking a jab at him because he didn’t mind giving up some freedoms for stability? Perhaps he did have to change his line of thinking to be more like his familiars. If all of his familiars preferred freedom over safety, should he fall for peer pressure and agree with their line of thinking? The blue avians were similar to law enforcement, so if he wanted the freedom to commit crimes, logically, he should remove the blue avians from the picture. However, Sam didn’t want crime to run rampant as a side effect of him obtaining freedom, but his familiars didn’t mind.
“What’s wrong with higher-dimensional beings coming to make Oterra their own?” Vercedei asked. “Life is difficult for humanity, and it won’t be any more or less difficult with or without blue avians. Sure, there might be an initial wave of deaths and other such losses when a few higher-dimensional beings show their faces, but humanity is adaptable; the fact they’ve managed to ascend to Oterra and establish a city in the first place is proof.”
“Sometimes, destruction is necessary for creation,” Ess said, flapping its wings whilst remaining in place, causing a strong stench to assault Sam’s sense of smell. “Oterra is stagnant, and to create a newer and better plane of existence, it must be wiped clean to start over again.”
No matter what Sam said, his familiars wouldn’t change their mind about destroying Oterra, so there was no point in trying to convince them. Since that was the case, wouldn’t it be better if he embraced his role as their summoner and aided them in their goal? He wasn’t sure if that was his original thought or if Nwaps had pushed the right buttons in his brain to make him think it was.
“Your brain comes up with random and, quite frankly, evil thoughts all the time,” Nwaps said. “Don’t blame every single one of them on me. I’m not the one telling you to kick a puppy when you see it. I’m not the one telling you to steer your vehicle into a street post. It’s your brain’s intrusive thoughts, not ones I’ve planted in there.”
So, the tapeworm had planted thoughts in Sam’s head after all; he knew it.
“Just because I’ve planted them in there doesn’t mean you have to act on them,” Nwaps said. “It’s similar to meditation. You can acknowledge the thought, think about it, and let it float by without engaging in it.”
“Forget it,” Sam said. He already knew his familiars didn’t always have his best interests in mind. “What about the blue avians?” Although he could technically read the report without the use of his eyes by concentrating on his All-Seeing Gaze, the text was blurry and difficult to discern, making it much easier to simply ask the twin-headed snake on his face to summarize it instead. “When will they arrive?”
“As you know, blue avians travel quite quickly,” Vercedei said. “Although Werchbite is maintaining an illusion over the capital, it won’t fool the blue avians if they’re certain we’re here; they can be quite persistent. However, even if it can’t fool them for forever, depending on how well our employees cooperate and how lucky we are, it can take the blue avians up to a week to find us.”
“So, in a week’s time, you’ll have to convert everyone within the capital to your religion,” Sam said. “How many people have already chosen to believe in one of you?”
“Ninety-five percent,” Vercedei said.
Sam had expected the percentage to be high since the higher-dimensional beings could practically perform miracles, but he hadn’t expected it to be that high. Then, he considered the Venusians who Vercedei had instructed to lure people into visiting the temples. They could appear and disappear at will on the golden plaza, and there was even a small dormitory built within the plaza inaccessible from the outside, so the Venusians would have a place to stay where they couldn’t be disturbed. The power of beautiful women and handsome men was certainly impressive when attracting human attention. Suddenly, ninety-five percent of the population didn’t seem implausible anymore.
“Five percent, that isn’t a lot left,” Sam said. With the tapeworm’s ability to travel through dreams and heavily influence people’s thoughts, it wouldn’t be difficult to convert someone even if they were as stubborn as a mule. “So, as long as we aren’t unlucky, you’ll definitely finish before the blue avians discover us.”
“We’ll see what happens,” Vercedei said. “For now, you shouldn’t use your All-Seeing Gaze. If you scan a blue avian with one, they’ll be alerted of your presence.”
Sam let out a sigh through his one unclogged nostril, causing Ess’ wings to flap and release some shiny flakes. He already couldn’t see thanks to the twin-headed snake wrapped around his face, but now, he wasn’t allowed to use his All-Seeing Gaze either. In that case, what was he left with? Hearing and touch? But he couldn’t even walk thanks to the koala, which hadn’t left his leg a single time since he had obtained the metallic familiar.
“Just spend your time in the subconscious expanse,” Nwaps said and slithered back inside Sam’s nose while wriggling down his esophagus. “You know it’s a better place than here. We’ll protect your body, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”