Chapter 38.3: A Little Chaos

“It appears to be a construct of some kind.” Holding the tablet at her side, Jinkke leaned in to inspect the thing standing exactly where their field projector had just been a moment before. It stood utterly still, unmoving beyond the shimmer that came with the warping light of the energy dome. “Does its coloration seem familiar?”

Penny shot Jinkke an incredulous glare, but before she could challenge the asura’s clearly misdirected focus, a new voice entered the conversation. “What in Dwayna’s light is that?”

All eyes shifted to the collapsed wall that almost separated their workstation from the outside world, where four familiar figures now stood. One was clearly a norn, but at first glance the others could have been mistaken for three humans. Penny knew better, though. The voice was Valliford’s, and the figure beside her was Captain Gelwin, but the final member’s skirts and thorny approximation of hair clearly belonged to that sylvari with the charming temperament.

“What,” Jindel repeated, reaching for an axe at her hip, “is that?”

The norn growled, a deep rumble that seemed to echo out of the underworld, and the greatsword was off his back and in front of him faster than Penny would have given such a large man credit for. “Oh, I know what that is, and by Bear’s might, it will pay.”

“Wait!” Jinkke lunged a step forward, waving the tablet in front of her. “It’s an illusion—it has to be. All data evidence points to the emitter still being present.”

Reaching for his own sabre, Captain Gelwin stepped out and extended the staff he held in his free hand across Fjornsson’s middle. “Stand down, Crusader. Wait for an explanation.”

It wasn’t enough to stop the norn’s advance, though. Pushing through the outstretched arm, his plodding steps accelerated.

“Stand down!” Gelwin demanded again. It did nothing to stop the norn’s heavy but quickening advance.

“Right here,” Jinkke pleaded, still showing the tablet to the newcomers, as though any of them could read the glyphs any better than Penny could. “Everything still reads that the emitter is operating beyond most expectations, which, of course, requires that it still exists. The lyssal isolate is simply projecting a glamour of— that thing. I have no hypothesis for what that is, but it’s illusory, intangible—”

The boulder of a norn kept coming, eyes now ablaze and locked intently on the small construct sheltered in the glistening dome of energy.

Jinkke jumped aside just to avoid being hit. “No,” she argued fraily, still waving the tablet around, “you don’t understand. This could be the only defense we have!”

Eyes wide, Penny stood, watching the scene play out as though from over her own shoulder. She couldn’t let it happen, but she also couldn’t move to stop it. The knot coiled like a viper in the pit of her stomach, and she watched as Crusader Fjornsson’s immense sword drew back over his head and released, falling like a steel avalanche toward the purple dome with his final steps toward it.

“No!” Minkus yelled, stepping into the norn’s path and lowering a shoulder into one of his knees. A burst of blue light blew off Minkus’ back as he was struck, and Fjornsson’s leg stopped dead. His momentum shifted, and the huge man hurtled aside, away from the table and right at Wepp, who’d attempted to evade the confrontation by moving to the opposite end of the table.

Minkus seemed to see it all happening as the crusader stumbled and left the ground. With a gutteral scream that should have come from anyone other than Minkus, he swung his arms wildly at Wepp and collapsed.

Another dim pulse of blue light sparked and rippled across Wepp’s body as the stumbling norn and his flailing weapon smashed down on him and ricocheted off just as quickly. The spark of light shot off Wepp in the opposite direction, and Fjornsson fumbled backward into a pile of stone rubble. A gout of dirt and dust filled the air in his place, and as it settled, so did all the figures in the room.

“Big Brother!” Jinkke let the tablet fall and bounced to his side, dropping to her knees to inspect him for injuries. Penny wasn’t far behind, instantly relieved to see her friend, foggy-eyed and panting for breath but in one piece.

“Is Wepp—”

Jinkke cut him off, still examining every inch of him for signs of damage. “He’s fine, Big Brother. Your magic reached him. But you— well, factually, you’re copacetic as well.” She leaned back on her heels.

“Damn.” Penny could feel her eyes wide as she looked down at the two. “You did it.” Minkus smiled at her weakly, and it faded faster than she would have expected.

Minkus returned his attention to his sister. “Go check on Wepp.” Reluctantly, she obeyed, and Minkus closed his eyes to rest.

That was when the rest of the area came back into relief for Penny. She raised her eyes from her friend on the floor to the Vigil soldiers now surrounding their seated and dust-covered comrade. It sounded like the norn was already getting a mouthful from his commander, but Penny didn’t care. With another glance down at her friend, she pounded her way toward them and opened up a volley at the captain’s back.

“What in gods’-damned Torment was that?!” she roared, hoping the force of the words would pin the lot of them to the vine-encrusted wall behind them. “We came here to save your asses, and this is how you say ‘thank you’?” She flung a finger back at Minkus, still splayed out on the ground collecting himself. “Gods, you tried to destroy the contraption that’s going to keep our minds in one piece and almost killed the guy responsible for us even trying to help you! What in Grenth is wrong with you?!”

“That thing,” the norn grunted. Dirt and rubble fell off his hand as he lifted it to point at the dome of purple light still sitting atop the table. Somehow it was still in one piece, entirely untouched, with that creature still seeming to stand at its center. “It killed my team. All of them.”

Gelwin seemed to be finding words to enter the conversation, but Penny marched on over him. “That did it? That thing there? The foot-tall illusion of a monster that we literally just made— that killed your friends? Yeah, you think so?”

His face tightened, embarrassment only deepening his fury.

“Maybe if you’d listened to a damn thing Jinkke there was trying to—”

“Enough,” Gelwin barked. “Both of you.” Somehow it worked; even Penny quieted, gritting her teeth.

The man went on, suddenly snapping orders as his rank suggested he could. “Crusader Valliford.” He only glanced at her, “you’re now on security detail with me. Fjornsson, you’re done. Get to your bunk, now.”

“Sir, I—”

“Now!” He still wore Gelwin’s face, but the collected man they’d seen before was replaced now with a granite-faced commander of war. Fjornsson saw the change too, rising to his feet and slinking off into the night without another complaint.

Penny blinked, taking an unconscious step away from the man. She’d never seen a cowed norn before.

The crusader rounded the corner, disappearing from sight, and Gelwin’s demeanor softened as he addressed Penny. “Are your friends alright?”

She nodded, already knowing that Minkus would be fine, though she did glance back at him again. With Jinkke’s support, he lifted himself from the floor on uneasy legs. Wepp too, several yards away, was on his feet again, eyes wide with amazement as he assessed his own lack of injury. “Yeah. No thanks to your muscle,” she replied, turning back to him. She glared, just to make sure he felt the bite.

“I am very sorry,” Gelwin said with a slight bow. “I take full responsibility for his outburst. If you need our medical—”

“We don’t, Captain.” Jinkke had gotten her brother up and steadied, and she too wore the resentment Penny felt. “My brother only needs time to mend himself.” Gelwin nodded.

“So what the hell was his problem?” Penny demanded, pointing at the fallen stretch of wall Crusader Fjornsson had just vanished beyond. “Tell me you at least know why he went bat-shit on—” She turned to look at the field projector and trailed off. “Gods, that thing is freaky-looking.”

Captain Gelwin followed her gaze, as did Liæthsidhe and Jindel. “That does match the description,” he murmured, only then raising his voice to continue more formally. He pointed. “That, if I understand correctly, is an image of the stone—or, jade—creature responsible for the deaths of his whole team. It was the reason Sergeant Ventyr left this post to begin with and the reason you are here now.”

As he spoke, his lieutenant stayed firmly by his side, but Crusader Jindel had moved around Penny and made her way toward the field projector, leaning cautiously to inspect the dome and the illusory monster inside it. She seemed at once intrigued and disgusted by it—a response Penny couldn’t argue with. “But why in Tyria is it here?” she asked, still staring at it.

“Chaos magic,” Wepp said matter-of-factly.

They all looked at him, and he nodded, affirming his own conclusion.

Penny glared at him across the open space, making sure he picked out her expression among the rest. “Donut magic,” she jeered. “Internal magic. Log magic. Alphabet magic. I can play this game too, or would you like to explain what in Grenth’s green ass you’re talking about?”

Wepp nearly growled his dissatisfaction. “No, Arkayd. Those inane phrases mean nothing, whereas chaos magic is a true and recognized form of magical energy, and this entire region is rife with it. It’s the very reason Kikka’s krewes were sent here to establish a research station to begin with.”

Penny quieted. Everyone did. She got the feeling half of them had little idea what the asura was talking about, but as far as she could tell, it was reasonable. So she held her tongue.

“This lyssal isolate,” Wepp went on, “it’s magical family specializes in illusory applications, yes?”

“Yes,” Jinkke said with a nod, “and I recognize your intellectual trajectory.” She scooped up her tablet once more and approached the magenta dome alongside Valliford. Glancing back and forth between the data tablet’s readings and the image standing atop the table before her, Jinkke began to speak her thoughts aloud. “What we’re looking at is an optical illusion interplaying with the environment’s natural proclivity to chaos magic.”

Minkus fumbled past them all. “But why is it Ventyr’s monster? Chaos magic could— well, it could make anything happen, right?” Earnestly he looked at each of them in turn. No one had an answer for him.

“It’s a curious coincidence, Big Brother,” Jinkke agreed. She turned to Wepp.

He stammered, shifting a foot in the dirt. “Yes, yes. It— well, that is quite an odd coincidence. Quite odd.” Something about him was suddenly strange. His factual tone had vanished, and he literally squirmed as everyone watched.

Before she could press another question, though, Wepp bounced forward and flipped the switch on the projector’s power generators, deactivating them. The field cut down one side of the dome, and it retracted in both directions, meeting at a single line of light on the opposite end before winking out. Inside, where the construct had stood just a second before, sat the field emitter, steaming a little as the power left it.

“In any case,” Wepp said, waving at the machine, “it is, in fact, only an illusion. Our creation is still entirely existent. And it appears to be a success!” Penny squinted at him, still ruminating on the sudden shift in his demeanor. No one else—not even Minkus—seemed to catch anything, so she let it go.

Jinkke bent down and ran a finger along the outer shell of the emission iris, glancing once more at the data tablet, as she turned the component. She scrolled a bit through the readouts, unaware of the foolish grin spreading across her lips, and pressed the tablet against her chest as she straightened proudly, addressing the room. “The entire system is certifiably operational. It ran even more smoothly than I could have projected, and days ahead of our anticipated schedule!” She directed her attention to the captain and lieutenant, who stood stock-still. “We can continue testing tonight and, if all goes well, have a promising prototype within the day.”

Penny turned to see how the news landed on the vigil brass. The sylvari blinked, somewhere between confusion and annoyance—more toward the latter. The human, however, seemed to understand what Jinkke was saying. It just didn’t sit any better with him for some reason.

The man’s silence settled over the rest of the room after a moment, and the viper in Penny’s gut twisted tighter.

“What is it?” Minkus asked, his wide brow furrowing as he plodded toward the human man. “What is it, Captain? Is— is something wrong?”

Gelwin sighed, rubbing a hand over his bald pate. The other still held that staff. Penny had barely noticed it before, but something about it seemed familiar. “Your work may be too little too late,” he said.