The Fifth Edict

You didn't feel anything as the Eclipse Malkin entered your back. Not from the dagger, anyway. Just the slight tug of ripping cloth, and the force of the thrust into your torso after being struck mid-run. You remember stumbling, then spinning. The Jester looked down at you as you bled out, and then it all started to go cold... You crumbled into ash as the curses of the Void took hold, and then that ash was engulfed in phoenix flames -- the blessing of Rastel stealing you from a true death. You were adrift for a time, although the length of it is a blur to you. Just a harsh pause between breaths, like waiting for bad news. When everything tumbled back in--
No. That's not right.
When you tumbled into Nothing.
Four figures, backlit by their own auras, glowing brightly in defiance of the Void. Tommen, the Child of Entropy. Delikul, the first Undead soul. David, the Baron Saint of Bastion. Siren, the Symphony of Spheres. They reached out, hands pulsing with the essences that made them whole, and transferred some of it to you. Bandages covered your gaping wound, and salves dulled the pain.
But it was still there... No blood fell from the wound, nor would it worsen or heal. Everything was timeless. No breath required, no energy to move. Just a will to live inside the Nothing. A will that you possess. Of the four, David walks closest to you, and kneels at your side. The motion seems to take a few seconds and an eternity. Visions of your friends batter at your mind, but at such a speed that you cannot comprehend.

David: "Thunder in the Mist. Stay calm... I'm afraid you've died. But our plans can move ahead regardless -- all is not lost. Do you understand? Oh-- Here, let me aid you."

David extends another hand, more of his essence passing into you. The knowledge required to speak in the Void comes unbidden, and you find the possibility open to you.
You look around at the four people and then down to your wound, standing slowly, testing the limits of what your body can still do.

Mist: "Nice to meet you all... I think?"

You find that you can stand, but you feel weak -- like you might fall apart again at any moment. The wound is fresh, the pain of it arcing up and down your spine, but it doesn't appear to be infected. As a student of mysticism, you're fairly certain that can't happen here, but not completely confident.

David: "Don't do too much moving. Not until you understand the cost."
Siren: "Why do we exchange pleasantries? That flesh hinders him. Remove it."
Delikul: "Hasty. A living body is a gift, Siren. Waste not... But perhaps--"
Tommen: "No."

When Tommen speaks, it is with absolute authority. While the others argue as equals, they view him in a higher regard. Delikul shrugs, not caring either way. Tommen looks to David.

David: "As I was saying, you are not yet a ghost in the Void. What you do to your body will have no effect now, but all debts come due when you leave."
Siren: "Not that you'll be leaving anytime soon."
Tommen: "Wait. He's distracted. That gala business has him all riled up... Ask your questions first. Leave all thoughts of the old world behind you. In the moments to come, they'll only hinder your progress."

You think for a moment... Or is it more? Regardless, the Dark Walkers wait for your questions with stoic interest.

Mist: "The gala... Yes. And before. What I learned of all existence. Is it true? Are we all just pieces of the same whole trying to wake him up, or kill him, or something else?"

David's lips stretch thin. You hear one of the other two laugh -- likely Siren.

David: "Straight to the heart of it... I don't know all of what you've heard--"
Tommen: "Just the beginning. Just the barest idea of it."
Siren: "A tiny, cosmic baby. Although, perhaps impressive for one so young."
Delikul: "Not on his own -- Grimal's patricidal son. He teaches a handful, each Iteration. Hoping it will make an impact..."
Siren: "Never one of ours. Perhaps he's looking to change sides?"
Tommen: "No. He feels guilty. He knows the damage he causes. But he's a follower in the grand scheme -- Vic is his leader. He'd give anything to give him another chance."
Delikul: "Again and again and again..."

David frowns, and nods in agreement.

David: "Aye, Mist. It's true. We exist in the bleeding head of some powerful entity, his brain severed into two pieces. It doesn't seem to bother him overly much -- his coma is particularly lively. But you see the results. I often wonder what he would be capable of, were he awake... But let's start there. What do you want to know? You're standing in front of some of the oldest souls ever known."

While the three look equally proud of their ages, all seem to pay heed to Tommen. You feel it in their thoughts... Tommen is the oldest by far. Perhaps even by an order of magnitude. Someone who has lived every Iteration, and kept his memory intact.

Mist: "Well... Who is Vic? and Rufus? Who are they really? I've heard little bits but nothing complete."

David converses silently with Tommen, and the two come to an agreement. You feel a pull at the back of your skull... And then visions pound into your head -- one after another, in sequence -- replaying every dream that you've ever received. The instigators of this experience put heavy weight on Caesura's recent journey, particularly his last vision, where he battered Rufus Geldenleaf with an absolute truth.
Paradise is lost.
David is there when you come back to it, but it seems the other Dark Walkers have wandered off. While still visible in the distance, Tommen stands alone, while Delikul and Siren chat out of earshot. Drawing your attention, David summons an illusion into the palm of his hand. The family spotted at the end of Caesura's vision, dressed in clothing similar in culture to the tattered cloth and armor worn by the Centurion.

David: "Do you know that when you dream -- mundanely, not with Zandeer's influence -- that your brain is incapable of creating new faces? It will supplant people with faces you've seen, even if the face doesn't fit the body, and most dreamers accept this as normal."

David gestured to the family in his palm, pointing at each member in sequence, starting with the Soldier with red hair.

David: "The Soldier looks like Vic, does he not? But the Centurion wears his armor."

He moves to the woman with black hair, standing next to the Soldier.

David: "The Mother may remind you of Tesin -- that is because she is a spitting image of Nazima, when she is whole. If you have ever seen the Ringmaster -- Vic's Mirror -- the appearance to the Mother is similar, although her hair is red like Vic and the Soldier. The Maskmaker is harder to place, but she takes after the Soldier in face, and the Mother in body."

His finger drifts to the Brother. Had you not just seen his face in an early vision, you might have missed the resemblance. He is almost a spitting image of Maximus Erebus.

David: "Ah, you see it. Good. And last..."

David's hand hovers over the screaming Babe, eyes clamped shut as its toothless maw bellows. However, David draws attention to the stubble on the baby's head -- hair the color of gold.
Rufus Geldenleaf.

David: "Inserted faces, onto fractured pieces of the Godhead's identity -- the paternal Soldier, the Mother, the Brother, and the Babe. The latter two seem to take precedence, if you haven't noticed. Rufus and Max ultimately rule over Tyrnog and the Other Side, although they share the power with their broken families."

David closes his hand, banishing the image, and looks towards his fellow Walkers.

David: "We don't know for sure who the Godhead really is, or if the shards of his identity remember their original lives, but logic dictates that he isn't one of the Four. We rarely insert our own face into the pool of features our dreams steal from..."

Something passes between the Dark Walkers, and David looks back down to you.

David: "That answers the high level, anyway. The gist of it is they're all powerful mother fuckers. Even if you kill them, the Godhead dreams them back up again -- sometimes even in the same Iteration. That's why we needed..."

David gestures in a vague direction, but your Mantle bridges the gap. Where the Entwined Infinities touch. Where End Day surfaces. Where the Infinity Worm waits for its next meal.

Mist: "So that is what we do. Any killed by the Dark Walker are removed from this existence and fed to the worm?"

The skin around David's eyes tightens, but otherwise he betrays no emotion. He turns back to look at Tommen, who has drifted closer during David's lecture. The smile spread across his face is wicked.

Tommen: "Tell him."

David responds with a slight nod, but you can tell he is hesitating. Like a soldier accepting an order from a superior, even though he disagrees.

David: "Very well, Mist. What do you think all of the Dark Walkers have in common?"

David gestures towards his colleagues, and your mind races to bridge the gap. All male, but that's likely a coincidence. No singular fighting style either -- Tommen is practically an Outsider, Delikul is a necromancer, David is like a samurai, and Siren is some kind of psychic. They're not even all from the same world. Delikul and David from the Other Side, with the rest of you from Tyrnog. You feel the Mantle filling in additional information, but nothing sticks. Then you see it.
Tommen, walking out of the wreckage of Pierce, his nervous followers behind him. Delikul and his armies of undead. David standing in the ruins of Bastion after End Day, and the survivors that gather around him. Siren and the Knights of Mystic Fire. All leaders. All men who don't fight directly, but extend their will through others.

David: "Captain. It's not just us, Mist. It's anyone who follows us along the Path."
Tommen: "The Third Edict."

David's lips turn into a small grin. The Third Edict is his -- an effect layered onto the First and Second.

Feed the Worm.
Break the Scales.
David: "Lead the Way."

The power of the statement thrums within you, and the Mantle about your shoulders.

Mist: "A fraction of Nazima follows me?"
David: "When you are together as a crew, she is under your 'authority' as Captain. But it works best on those who have dedicated themselves to your cause."

You think of Chamas, and of TRAVIS. Of the prisoners you saved, now watching over Ezorod and the trading paths. Paths you helped build.
Lead the Way.

David: "That's right. This is why they fear us, Mist. We spread wherever we go. It's why the Walkers hunt us. We upset their 'Balance'."
Mist: "What about Jestyr? He's our enemy. What if we killed him?
David: "He pays attention only because his goal -- oblivion -- is different from ours -- a new existence. The death of the Godhead."
Tommen: "I've killed him. Fed his avatar to the Worm, in an early Iteration. He was back in a matter of weeks. Even kept some of his memories. The Godhead just dreamed him back in... But that energy was lost to him. It was the Worm's first big meal."

A grin wide enough to bridge a ravine, if not for the missing teeth.

Mist: "Alright... How do we dream within this dream?"
David: "We dream because the Godhead believes we do. We can't assume that his body operates on the same scale as us... Fully rendering each and every person in the known galaxy, granting them organic functions and personalities -- and yes, dreams -- are likely a trivial task. Or something that he can do without active thought. While his little family resembles the humanoid creatures of our world, he is likely the farthest thing from it."
Mist: "Why is the Dreamer-- or the Owls in general -- part of the prophecy of the 'End'?"

David looks at Tommen, and you get a gut feeling that even David might not fully know the answer.

Tommen: "Prophecy. Recall that End Day occurs to both Sides, Mist. Tyrnog is a land of rules. The Owls are included in Tyrnog's end only because the Godhead subconsciously believes it is proper. In some part of himself -- no matter how small -- he knows he is dreaming. He must -- the existence of the Monad implies as much. And so of course the Owls are included in End Day. The day that the dream could end. The day that we all stop dreaming..."

You pause, absorbing the information, and then think for a few moments -- moments that seem both small and expansive -- looking over each of your fellow Dark Walkers before speaking again.

Mist: "And you all stay here, in the Void, to avoid detection. I sort of get what the Void is. Empty 'Nothingness' between the brain halves.... But what is the Mirror? Why is it there?"

David sighs, and at the mention of the topic, all the Dark Walkers gather close again. You can quickly tell that you've stumbled onto an old debate, as each offers their opinion.

Delikul: "It's a cosmic weapon, polished to a mirror sheen, embodied in the Godhead's skull. The Void is a wound, and these dreams are mere hallucinations before his ultimate death--"
Siren: "It's part of a ritual, like the dream states embarked on by shamans. This is all one great vision quest--"
David: "It's a surgical procedure. But the time scale is incomprehensible to us. This whole time, on an operating table--"
Tommen: "It's there. We know its properties, and we know it hasn't moved since the very beginning. What and why are irrelevant, Mist. It simply is. Perhaps, when we destroy it, we may glimpse at its true form. I believe the Athenaeum knows, but it refuses to barter with us in that regard, and our journeys there are few and far between. Does that satisfy you?"
Mist: "Yes and no? But it will have to do. What is the Athenaeum?"
David: "That requires an understanding of Petal Theory."

Tommen looks to Delikul, who is apparently the group expert.

Delikul: "If you insist... Imagine a wide and infinite flower. Each petal is unique in color and shape, but overlaps with its neighbors, and surrounds a center of sweet, sweet nectar, fed by a multiversal sun."
Tommen: "Anima."
Delikul: "Yes, the force of creation. And below, a deep, black earth. Where petals fall and decompose, creating negative energies -- Vacuus -- that burn and boil until they become neutral again, and eventually feed the flower."
Siren: "The cycle of existence..."
Delikul: "Quite. Putting our feet more firmly in reality, the petals are the individual pockets of being -- with our collective world a single Petal. The parts of our Petal closest to the center are known as the First World and Carnival. You can think of Tyrnog as being 'sun-side', with the Other Side pointing towards the 'ground'. Of course, the metaphor falls apart--"
Tommen: "It's good enough. It represents the duality of each side, and their alignment towards positive and negative energies. Keep going."

Delikul huffs, but continues nonetheless.

Delikul: "Regardless, in the same way that all Petals share the same center, they eventually fall to the ground -- the Dark Tapestry, the edges of existence, where entire universes go to die. You can think of the Athenaeum like a scavenger. Before the Petal fully decomposes, it collects the knowledge and artifacts it finds interesting, and stores it in its library -- more accurately, inside itself."
Siren: "But our Petal has a unique relationship -- our Petal decomposes almost entirely each Iteration, and drops the remains to the ground."
Tommen: "It knows a lot about us. Every time the Godhead discards a dream and moves onto the next cycle, the Athenaeum gets a taste. Then the Petal regrows, and then it dies, and it feeds again."

The information pounds around in your head, both soothing your worries and creating new ones. You find yourself rubbing at your temples while the Dark Walkers explain, but grasp a question as Tommen finishes the argument.

Mist: "Okay, so there are a bunch of universes. But there is a singular point where they all stem from and they all go to the same place to die. Correct? And the Athenaeum lives there, in the outer realms. Are all the petals in the Godhead, or is the Godhead simply one reality?"
Delikul: "This is why I hate metaphors."

David raises a placating hand before turning back to you.

David: "The Godhead is what 'made' this Petal. The other Petals are different -- they're not dreams, or related to the Godhead in any way. Or at least, not any we've observed. While no one is certain, we believe our Petal was created by another one. That the Godhead is from that universe, and 'fell' into this empty world space, filling it with life."
Siren: "Likely the Numens... Like your Carrot, and the Eshtayiv. Creatures strong enough to destroy the Outer Gods, given the right conditions. There's pieces of them all over, but the ones in our Petal are practically babies. Little birds waiting to hatch."

Tommen nods.

Tommen: "The eldest of them, assuming they are the 'adults' of their race, could have been powerful enough to become the Godhead. I've seen one, in a different Petal. It could kill the entire Material Plane on a whim..."

The boy shivers -- a frightening response from such a decrepit figure. Your fellow Dark Walkers look out into the Void, nervous energy spreading. A being more powerful than the Godhead... A strange thought indeed.

David: "Ours is a strange existence... The Godhead is proof of that."

It's a lot to take in... Perhaps too much, all at once. You find your tired brain moving on to simpler topics, such as the here and now.

Mist: "This is all 'big picture' stuff. It seems way beyond me, but obviously you choose me for a reason. Why?"

Tommen tilts his head, tangled hair lilting at an odd angle.

Tommen: "We don't choose, the Mantle does."

You feel a wisp of air on the back of your neck, pulling at your fur. A silent member of this meeting, the energy that holds you together. The white-hot hatred of Tommen's rage, nurtured across many Iterations, evolved by thousands of perspectives. You see a long line of Dark Walkers as hazy outlines, and then four solidify into the figures before you. The Dark Walkers that the Mantle always returns to. The ones it waits for. The ones who Walk again and again, until their Edicts become part of the Mantle itself, separate from their influence.

Delikul: "You are the latest candidate. The fifth Dark Walker. There have been many before you, but you may be the last."
Siren: "You say that to all of them."
David: "We said it to you."

Siren responds with a cool look, which slowly slides it's way to your general direction.

Siren: "So you did."

The moment settles and passes, and you find yourself ready to break the silence.

Mist: "But wait, the Mantle was born from Tommen, wasn't it? Do you not have some control over it?"
Tommen: "More than the other Dark Walkers."

Tommen shrugs, and David moves in to expand on the idea.

David: "Make a cloak, wear it for a lifetime, make it yours. Then give it to your son. He damages it, patches it up, and then gives it to his son. Over and over again, for thousands of years, until the Iteration ends, and the cloak comes back to you."
Delikul: "Is it still the same cloak?"
Siren: "Surely, some of the original pieces are still there. But it's different now. You can take it back, make it yours again, but at scale? Not year-by-year, but Iteration-by-Iteration..."
Tommen: "I've worn it the most. But the Mantle is not I, and I am not the Mantle. If anything, consider the Mantle my adult offspring -- genetically similar, but someone with their own opinions, own memories, own choices."
Mist: "That makes sense.... Why was Balio picked? Did you all meet him?"

David reveals a toothy grin, which spreads among the other Dark Walkers with ease.

David: "The Mantle takes a general interest in those who've killed a Walker. Doesn't really matter how, as long as they're responsible."
Delikul: "Not many Walkers in Light kill themselves... But the Mantle cares little, and Beast in the Night answered the call after returning to life."
Siren: "We didn't talk. He was more interested in something else..."
Tommen: "A choice. To offer up the Mantle to you."
Mist: "Wait, what Walker did he kill?"
David: "Oh, he killed himself. It took a while for him to die, but he knew what he was doing when he saved Pulura. That much Wither is a death sentence to anyone breathing."
Delikul: "And most that aren't."

That statement hangs in the air for an slow instance, before the conversation resumes.

Mist: "Was my brother a Dark Walker?"
Tommen: "Not this time... But he has been, just once. Equally as rare as you becoming a Walker in Light."

A ripple in the Mantle of the Dark Walker. The presence of Lightning in the Wind, a mere drop in an ocean of wills. A Fifth Edict, one of many offered, but which never stuck. It's almost on your lips, but something stops you. A lack of understanding required -- the knowledge of the Fourth Edict, which all proposed Fifth's rely on.

Mist: "What exactly do you mean by Walker in Light?"
David: "A clarifying term. While Raemus and his ilk claim the title 'Walker', there are many kinds that tread the Infinities. We call them Walkers in Light, whereas we are Walkers in Dark."

David gestures to the surrounding Void to accentuate the point.

David: "The Walkers in Light began in the First World, and made their home there. While our Mantle was born on the Other Side, it makes its home at the edges of the Void."
Tommen: "Where there is true balance."

Tommen hisses the last bit, and the other three nod.

Delikul: "There are others, those that walk the middling path, but share no name. They are aware of the Infinities in some capacity, and are capable of seeing the path that lies ahead and behind, but take no collective action. You are familiar with one -- Langdon, the spirit that hunts you."
Siren: "Then there are the tainted ones... Those that fall past the Outer Gates, or switch sides. Servants of the Old Ones, who often rise to that status themselves."
Tommen: "They rarely trouble us. Being too close to their home Petal makes them vulnerable, so they often travel to other worlds, and cause havoc there."

You think for a bit about what you've heard, and find yourself looking at your wound.

Mist: "What is the Eclipse Malkin Malkin? Can it be taken from the Jester? And how screwed am I having this wound?"

There is an unexpected finality that spreads among your fellow Mantle bearers at the question. The topic Tommen meant to get to, before realizing your distraction from the gala. At the mention, Siren tilts his head, and listens to the Void.

Siren: "They're getting close... We don't have much time anyway."
Tommen: "Delikul, you're up."

The lich drifts closer, his rotting hand hovering over your wound, as he seems to appraise the damage with his magic. He talks as he scans, poking and prodding in places, similar to the ministrations of a doctor.

Delikul: "The Eclipse Malkin is an artifact from the Twilight War -- I showed it to you when we first met. While the One God guided Raemus and his people to make them, they were crafted with pieces from both Sides, and use a central design concept. Pieces of the Mirror, surrounding an element of the Void. The Staff of Whispers creates a pocket of Void space inside itself, which can be used to store power, or as a prison--."

The last word is said with ire, and you get a feeling Delikul is more familiar with that prison than he might say out loud...

David: "It could surround people. The bits of Mirror would protect them as they traveled through the cracks, meaning they could easily get from Side-to-Side. I've seen it done, in the world before this one."

Delikul gives David a dirty look, but keeps his peace, and continues the lecture.

Delikul: "The Eclipse Malkin is of a similar makeup -- two razor-edge shards of the Mirror, clamped around a 'rod' of Nothing. There are many supernatural ramifications to this, but practically -- it absorbs some of the will of the bearer, such as their aura, and can cut just about anything. It might be easier to think of it like a needle..."

Delikul pokes into the wound, but you don't feel any pain.

Delikul: "You've been injected with the Jester's DNA, and it's frozen mid-spread, getting ready to tear your cells and soul apart."
Tommen: "You're fucked. Unless you stay with us, here in the Void. But that doesn't mean it's time to check out..."

David frowns, but you can't make out the reason. Siren seems to take great pleasure in this fact. Delikul is silent, both in voice and expression.

David: "The Fifth Edict... The Mantle needs to be at full strength, before End Day starts."
Mist: "No, wait -- you didnt answer the second part. Can we take it from him? If it takes on the will of the user, would it not be an extremely beneficial tool to the Dark Walkers?"

Tommen's lips form into a line, impatience plain on his face, but David leans in.

David: "It's a similar concept to the relationship between Tommen and the Mantle. It's not inherently his, but it's been with him so long... It's practically a part of him. It would take an astronomical amount of power to separate the two -- more than all five of us and our allies together, working at our best."
Siren: "Not impossible. Just highly unlikely."
Mist: "Fine. What allies do you all have outside of--"
Tommen: "We're getting distracted!"

As David turns to argue, something interrupts him. While you don't feel the disturbance, all four of them look out into the Void, and then at each other.

Delikul: "Little time... And he won't be needing--"

Finally, it snaps. David's hesitation, his unspoken words. Now coming from someone other than Tommen, fear is unable to contain them, and David reels on his undead counterpart, snarling with his words.

David: "You don't know that! His fate is yet sealed!"
Siren: "Always the romantic--"

Another disturbance. This time, all heads snap to a specific point in the Void, although you see nothing. However, there is a faint pull at your fur... Wind? Tommen growls, but to everyone's surprise, David stands his ground. There is a tense moment of silence, and then Delikul breaks it.

Delikul: "I'll show you."

The planet of Golarion. The continent of Avistan. Hordes of undead, led by the ghastly Tar-Baphon. You see Unari Dama and his friends fighting in a subterranean dungeon, and then a wave of silver and purple fire. At the end, the lich is nowhere to be seen, and his undead fall to the ground all over the continent. Time speeds, and you see them buried in mass graves, some with the proper rites, such as in Absalom, and others without. The latter group... While you are no Tar-Baphon, the dead will rise to familiar words. Delikul teaches you the ritual, as well as Tar-Baphon's command phrases, in a rush of memories that feel like oil in your skull. But that is not all... A second set of command phrases. A secret language crafted by Delikul himself. The ones he crafted to animate Zandarul's bones. They aren't perfect, with Zandarul awake and aware, but should it come to a battle of wills, these will give you an edge.
A sigh from Siren, and then another urgent whisper.

Siren: "I'll show you."

The city of Absalom. The Azlanti Keep, deep in the belly of it, deeper underground than even Ez believes it goes. A lantern, hanging from a delicate chain in a chamber full of empty seats. Where the spirits of the Knights of Mystic Fire reside, and offer counsel to the living. Or at least, where they used to... Now they rest in silence, their cry unheard. They Have Forgotten Us. An old anger burns there--
--which you feel radiating from Siren. To command the Knights of Mystic Fire in his stead requires an understanding of the Fourth Edict, which was formed in his time as their Grandmaster. It comes unbidden now, as does an echo of the past.

Feed the Worm.
Break the Scales.
Lead the Way.
Siren: "Wake the Beasts."

A monstrous thing, crawling in shadow, stepping out of an oak tree. A woman wailing from the center of the Starstone. The Gorgon pulling himself from a pool of Wither, fresh life entering his bones. The Tarrasque, screaming to the sky in the broken plains of Avistan. Dozens-- No thousands more. Beasts that cry of the end of days, and the death of the Godhead.
But then that echo... Ever subtle, but not quite complete. The seething rage in your brother's voice is startling -- so unlike his confident smiles, or the cold calm that would take over in moments dire. While the other Dark Walkers have moved on from the failed Fifth Edict, the Mantle remembers.
Burn the Bridges.
A dangerous Edict, one that severs ties between all things. It was Lightning's undoing in that Iteration, as it may be yours now, should your own Edict fail to suit. When your mind refocuses, you realize the Dark Walkers are waiting on you, as if subtly aware of your thoughts. Tommen seems... surprised? No, perhaps cautious. Or both? Perhaps he did not expect you to take to the Fourth Edict so quickly. David looks smug, and gives Siren a thankful nod.

David: "I have no allies to speak of in Tyrnog, and most on the Other Side evangelize me in a way that does not suit the will of the Dark Walkers."

Tommen provides no answer, his expression somewhat sour, as another disturbance shakes the Void. You feel it as a minor vibration this time, but the other Dark Walkers are rocked by it.

Tommen: "We need to leave soon, Mist. You have to come with us. If they take you across, that wound will kill you. To make a Fifth Edict at this stage would be--"

Tommen still speaks, but another voice overrides all sound. Siren presses on your mind, one eye slanted in mid-wink.
Not impossible. Just highly unlikely.

Tommen: "--so we don't have time to hesitate!"

The eerie facade cracks a little. Not enough for most to see... But your keen insight sees through Tommen, if only for a wisp of a second. While he is stoic and driven, and will kill any one of you to achieve his goal... It would hurt him to do it. He is not a complete monster. He is still the First Saint of Pierce. He truly believes that you will die if you do not take his recommendation. Believes that he can save you -- wants to save you. David sees another path... And in that moment you realize what it means to be a Walker. To choose your path, and walk it, on and on and on again, Iteration-by-Iteration, until you complete your journey, or until you can Walk no longer. David does not know what's best for you, but he is closer to the living than Tommen. A younger Walker, less removed from the passing of time.
David's only wish is to offer you a choice.
W- Wa- War- Ward-
A new voice echoes across the Void, broken syllables shattering the quiet. Tommen extends a grubby, filthy hand. David grips the hilt of his sword, his gaze still drifting in the black.

David: "Lead the Way, Mist."

A lull, thoughts racing through your mind, putting all the pieces together like bricks on top of a solid foundation. You breathe out slowly, and hear that ragged Lashunta screaming for you in the distance.
You look to Siren and nod, Delikul to wink, and David to smile.

Mist: "No. They can save me. I know it."

At last, you turn your gaze to Tommen, filling with resolve.

Mist: "I know what I believe. What has always been true to me. All things are brought about by chaos. We wish to birth a new world, and break free of this forced and false order. To do so... We must Become the Chaos."

Like a wild animal, the Mantle bucks, absorbing your candidate Edict, and roiling as the changes filter through. Tommen winces as it hits him, and the other Dark Walkers fall to a knee. Then the backlash, striking you at the core of your body, mind, and soul, thrumming down your Tether, as Chaos welcomes you, and you welcome Chaos. Tommen grunts, his one eye gleaming.

Tommen: "We'll see about that."
David: "No! They've done enough!"

Tommen laughs, the sound raw and mad from the force of the Fifth Edict.

Tommen: "If they can't beat us, they won't beat him! Let's see which plan shakes out, Dark Walker."

The laughter booms. Darkness takes you... A feeling not unlike dying, as your soul separates. Chamas comes rushing into the Void, running towards a tiny form on the ground, his voice silent in the Nothing. Your friends gather around him, looking desperately at your still body...
Thunder in the Mist opens his eyes.
But you're still here...