I needed to get you out of Selbsthass so you could understand the reality of war.
Morgen thought back to Unbrauchbar, how his Reflection tricked him into sending his soldiers in instead of taking the city himself. “Why?” he asked again. He saw Stehlen’s corpse sprawled in the filth and blood. She’d been run through with a sword. Had Wichtig killed her? Impossible. Lebendig lay nearby, one of Stehlen’s knives in her throat. Were they together again, united in the Afterdeath? Had the Kleptic found happiness? He doubted it.
You need me, said Nacht.
“No, I don’t.”
War is too dirty, too chaotic for you.
“The City-states will fall to my will.”
You’re thinking too small, said Nacht, smug as ever.
“Conquering all the world is small?”
You think you face armies comprised of the sane backed by a few Geisteskranken. That’s not the case. You are not the only Ascended mortal. The other gods will rise up against you. At the least they will negate your power. You will still need to war in the old way. Men and women will fight and die for you and it will be bloody. Nacht nodded at the gruesome scene in the farmhouse. And what of the elder gods?
“They’re gone.”
Are you sure? What if they’re watching? Might they be angered by your plans for their reality?
“They abandoned us.” Morgen scowled at his Reflection. “And if they return they will answer to me.”
Nacht shrugged, uncaring. Every Ascended, every local god, every spirit, hero, and numen will resist you. You threaten them.
“I can handle—”
And if they unite? You know there will be war, filthy bloody chaotic war. You know it in your bones. The earth shall suffer, torn by marching feet. You can fix the damage after, but you’re still going to have to cause that damage. Can you do that?
Morgen remembered the sight of the trampled earth after his army marched through Selbsthass. Tens of thousands of men and women and horses eating and shitting and making a mess. Someday he’d be able to make them so perfect they wouldn’t destroy everything they walked over, but that day was a long way off. War would continue to be a thing of destruction and devastation.
“What are you suggesting?” he asked his Reflection. Beyond the collapsed wall, he spotted Ungeist, robes beyond filthy and stained red with blood. Someone had stabbed him in the belly.
Nacht grinned stained teeth. Look at me. I am everything you are not. I revel in chaos and war. I can lead your armies. I will run your war. I will do the filthy things you cannot, so that you may build your perfect world. I will serve you perfectly.
Morgen laughed at the audacity of the Reflection. “Why would you do that?”
Because I know you will fail. This is a dirty world. Rules and cleanliness are temporary. Chaos and filth are forever. You will try and build perfection, and then you will watch it crumble at your feet. The cost will break you. And I will be there and you will need me. I will take from you the heavy burden and you will gladly hand it to me.
“You are wrong. When all the world worships me as perfect, I shall make the world perfect.”
Then you have nothing to fear from using me. You will build your perfect world, growing in power. In the end, you will be all powerful and I, faulty and fallible, unable to resist you.
Nacht was right. Morgen couldn’t face the chaos and filth of war. And his Reflection was perfectly suited for the terrible task. Perfectly suited. Perfect for the job at hand. Perfect. Morgen nodded. I’ll use Nacht, but never trust him. He might let Nacht command armies, but he’d never give the Reflection real power. It would be no great task to ensure his people worshipped Morgen and only Morgen. He glanced at Nacht. And when I no longer need you as you are, I will make you perfect too.
“You will lead my armies,” Morgen said.
Nacht bowed, making no attempt to hide his smirk. Then we must return to Selbsthass.
“Why?”
I showed you flashes of the future before you Ascended. Would you like to see tomorrow?
Morgen stared into the sliver of glass as his Reflection disappeared, replaced by the Theocrat. Behind the Theocrat sat a hand mirror showing the great hall. The mirror was empty.
“Failure—”
Is free, said Nacht. He’s taken back his city. He’s turning the people against you.
“Bastard.”
You’ll have to retake your own city.
“If you aren’t lying,” said Morgen, “then you need me as much as I need you.”