Tier 3+ - Accidental Champion (Book 7) - Chapter 60 – You’re Dead? So, You Are a Ghost

“You’re dead? So, you are a ghost.”

Inside The Collector’s former throne room, Xavier stood across from the man who’d invaded his mind.

“No. I suffered a true death. The death of not just my body or my Living Soul, but my Immortal Soul as well. Technically, my mind was also destroyed. This”—Roln looked down at himself—“is merely a copy. A mental construct, placed into your head by someone very powerful. Someone with a vested interest in your success.”

“So you claim,” Xavier muttered. His forehead creased. “Did the Old Man send you?”

Roln chuckled. “That child? No. He doesn’t have the power to do this.” He tilted his head to one side. “Here. Why don’t I show you something. Maybe it will help.” The dead man raised a hand, palm up. A ball of light appeared.

“What is that?” Xavier couldn’t feel it with his spiritual sense. He merely saw it in the same way he saw Roln.

“A memory. This is merely a visual representation.” Roln lowered his hand. The ball of light remained floating in the air. “Touch the ball and you’ll experience the memory.”

“Couldn’t you just force me to experience it?” Xavier replied through gritted teeth.

“I suppose there is another thing I should mention. The being who placed me inside of you ensured that I had several restrictions in place. I didn’t lie when I said I could interact with your every thought, memory, and more, your very neurons. However, right now those interactions are limited to observation—except for the visual and auditory cortexes. I cannot simply take control of you, make you forget something, or make you think in the way I want you to think. Even if I could, I wouldn’t do such a thing.”

Xavier didn’t relax. The… mental construct could easily be lying. Though if it was true it would solve a lot of his concerns.

“And even then,” Roln continued. “I’m further restricted to only being able to manipulate them when I’m confident it won’t bring you harm.” The mental construct turned his gaze to the ball of light. “Which means any help I give you, or anything I do other than appear and be heard, requires your willingness. Your permission.” He folded his hands behind his back. “If you wish to experience this memory, you must touch the ball of light.”

Xavier’s first thought was, It’s a trick.

And yet, despite that, he took two long strides forward and touched the ball.

Xavier had interacted with a lot of foreign memories in his time as a Denizen. Sometimes, he’d taken over an enemy’s mind and gone rifling through it. Other times, he’d experienced the memories of those he knew, memories that were offered to him. Then there were the memories he’d purchased.

Yet when he touched that ball of light, the experience was nothing like any of those.

The memory had clearly been altered, which wasn’t strange for purchased memories. But there was more. His experience of the memory was limited; he found himself staring out from someone else’s eyes and feeling with someone else’s spiritual sense. He didn’t have the same freedom that he’d had in other memories—he couldn’t move his awareness about the memory, whether externally or internally. It was fixed.

The attention of the person he inhabited in this memory was focused on a single individual. Him. Xavier was in the mind of someone floating in the void outside reality, peering into his universe and watching Xavier as he’d floated in space, inundated by the Soul Energy flowing through the void portal that had been The Collector’s trump card.

Xavier saw the void portal clearly inside his heart. Saw the Soul Energy flowing through it in a detail and clarity he hadn’t known possible.

There were other things at the edges of his awareness, but these things were blurred in what seemed an intentional way. The more he tried to look at them, the harder they became to perceive—but he thought he knew what they were.

The observers… The eyes that were on me… And this memory is from one of them.

Stop trying to look elsewhere, Roln said in his mind. Watch yourself. This is what I want you to see.

Xavier, reluctantly, did as the man bade, though he needed to split his mind and put all the realisations in a different part so he could focus properly.

I’m frozen in time?

This was the moment he was losing consciousness. When things were getting dark and he lost control of transforming the foreign Soul Energy.

No. You aren’t frozen. I was simply observing you in very small increments. Here, as I can sense your impatience… Watch.

The memory moved forward. Suddenly, power sparked inside Xavier—no, inside the being in the memory—it reached out not for Xavier, but for someone else. A presence he recognised. One he’d felt many, many times looking at him.

The Old Man.

He tried to save you. I stopped him.

The sparking power felt familiar. Like something he’d experienced before.

The light… It was the light that saved me.

The memory ended. Xavier blinked, his awareness returning to his physical body standing in the throne room. The ball of light was no longer there, his finger extended, touching nothing but air. He tried to digest everything he’d seen. “You… That light…” He shook his head. “It saved me, but… You used it to stop the Old Man saving me instead?” His forehead creased. “You said you were here to help me. That doesn’t sound like help.”

Roln raised an eyebrow. “And what would have happened if I hadn’t interfered? The Old Man would have forced the Void Portal closed. The Soul Energy you were using would have stopped flowing. Your cores had not yet been repaired. You would not have rallied. You would not have thrived!”

“So you knew I would survive?” Xavier frowned. “Do you have the power of foresight?” Empress Larona was no longer able to see his future, and she’d only ever been able to see strands—possible futures—but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible for someone more powerful to see ahead.

“Of course I possess the power of foresight—or, I did.” Roln waved a hand casually. “But foresight cannot be relied upon. Not fully. Else the Systems would be much better at doing what they do…” The man pursed his lips and shrugged. “So no, I had no idea whether you’d live.”

“You would have let me die.”

“Yes. I would have. But I didn’t believe you would. And you didn’t. If I’d let that man interfere? You would have been ruined!” The words were filled with an unexpected venom. “Stopping him from saving you? That was my final act.”

“Ruined? At least I would have been alive.”

“You are alive! Think on what would have happened had you been saved. Would you have chosen that path over this one? Would you have made a different decision?”

Anger sparked inside Xavier, then withered away. He wanted to be mad at this supposedly dead man who’d invaded his mind. But he was right—if he’d been saved by the Old Man, he might never have repaired his cores. It was rally or die. And beyond that…

If the Old man saved me from death once, why wouldn’t he do it again?

The feeling of being protected, of having a failsafe—it sounded like a good thing. He’d been that failsafe for others in the past. For people he’d trained. And… it was a good thing.

For them.

But for him? He couldn’t afford to have that. Hadn’t he made that choice before, when he’d refused the Old Man’s patronage? Adranial’s ancestor would have protected Earth from danger for as long as he lived. The World Destroyer wouldn’t have been a threat to them.

Xavier had refused the man, leaving Earth’s fate entirely up to him.

“I’ve seen what happens when you become protected. When you feel safe. I’ve seen it so many times.” Roln blinked. “I’m still not sure I should have shown you this. You know now, that you were being watched. That all along, there was a safety net there. That alone might change your decisions. But I don’t want to lie to you. Stuck inside your head, I can feel what that would do if you discovered the truth.”

He's seen what happens…

“You’ve—”

“Yes. I’ve observed versions of you in many universes.” Roln sighed. “But all of that is irrelevant. What’s important is you.” The dead man moved forward. His sharp steps echoed. “I want to help you succeed, Xavier Collins. I want it so much that it caused my death.”

Xavier glanced at where the ball of light had been. In his mind’s eye, he saw the memory he’d been shown. “You said that was your final act. How did that harm you?”

“I’m what you would call a Universe Hopper, though that’s a limited description. You’ve heard me speak of other Systems, so you know you’re not the first to discover they exist. The breadth and depth of the multiverse is hard for anyone to contemplate. They types of Systems out there would baffle you.

“There are many like me. Many who step from one corner of the multiverse to another. Many who walk multiple paths of advancement, as you have taken your first steps in doing. Some of us have been around since the first System was young. Others since before the System existed. Every one of us is from a dead universe. We are not spirits; we are Wanderers.” He gave a thin smile. “Some call as the Lost. Most Wanderers believe that a universe, when born, is destined to die. But a few among us believe otherwise, clinging to faith. The faction I was a part of believed, but they had a rule—a law—of noninterference. They believed anything “new” was sacred. Anything that hadn’t happened ever before. This variation, this novelty, is thought to one day make a universe’s survival possible.”

Roln raised a hand, forestalling Xavier before he’d opened his mouth. “I know your thoughts. Your questions. No, even our combined strength couldn’t save a universe. Yes, it was tried. And I interfered because I believed in you. Stopping the Old Man could have led to your death but didn’t. However, it did lead to mine. So there’s no point clinging to that anger in your heart.”

“You think I owe you something?” Xavier replied sharply.

Roln tilted his head to the side and smiled. “I see there’s a part of you that thinks you owe me something. You can’t hide your mind from me. Your feelings about my presence here are awfully complex.” He inclined his head. “I see you want to believe I’m telling the truth.”

“Only because it’s better than the alternative,” Xavier muttered, glancing at The Collector’s broken throne behind him.

“That I’m a mental virus here to drive you insane and make you doubt everything you see?”

“That, or you’re a Void Being and somehow wheedled into my head while that Void Portal remained open.”

“You’re more trusting than that, Xavier Collins.” Roln looked over at Palini, then at the Denizens in the room. “I’ve seen your heart. I know what you want for this universe. Unity…” He trailed off. “A beautiful dream.”

Xavier shut his eyes, put a hand to his forehead, and took a few sharp breaths. The man—the dead Wanderer—was right, of course. Xavier wanted to be a trusting person. Wanted to believe in others. God, it sounded so naïve, considering all he’d seen and all he’d done. But learning how to trust and teaching others how to do it—that was the only way his dream would ever be achieved.

Still, it was infuriating, how intimately this man knew his mind. It seemed as though he—

“Knows it better than you,” Roln interjected.

“Would you stop that?” Xavier snapped.

The mental construct chuckled. “Sorry, it’s hard to resist. I’ve been stuck in your head for a while now, trying to make myself heard as you trained.” He looked up, though it wasn’t the domed ceiling he was looking at. “I’m still getting used to my surroundings, but things are becoming more and more clear.”

“You, being in my head, influencing me, isn’t that the ultimate interference?”

“Indeed.” Roln sighed. “And yet it was the leader of my faction who did this to us. Not that she would ever let anyone else know she did.”

Xavier bent his head forward. Slowly, he was coming to terms with this. There were many parts of his mind shouting, screaming, that he shouldn’t believe this man even for a second. That it would be the dumbest thing for him to do. That he needed proof.

But how, exactly, could he get proof of something like this? How could he ever even trust in that proof, given the circumstances?

The higher, logical parts of his mind still didn’t want him to believe. As useful as those parts were to him, they were the same parts that often told him to mitigate risk as much as possible. A wise thing to do, but not always the best thing to do.

Xavier tapped his foot on the marble floor. Following a combination of his deep insights—his gut, so to speak—and those other parts had been what got him this far, hadn’t it? He wanted to believe this “Wanderer” was here to help, just as he wanted to believe—and so did—that he would end up saving this universe.

Trust means taking risks. Means becoming vulnerable. I can do that.

“All right,” Xavier said. “If you’re here to help me… How, exactly, do you intend to do that?”

The End of Book 7