IRIS processed the aftermath of the three-way argument with cold, brutal efficiency. The data was irrefutable: the moments of highest synergy between Azrael and Mammon in recent memory were not during cooperative tasks, but during unified opposition—first to the village elder, then to her.
She had become the perfect common enemy.
A new protocol was formulated overnight: Project Common Front. The premise was simple yet manipulative. To force Azrael and Mammon to synchronize, she would position herself as the antagonist to their shared goals.
She unveiled the new strategy at dawn, as Elandril led them to a new, more challenging training ground—a series of natural rock formations and swift, shallow streams.
“New training parameters initiated,” IRIS announced, her tone resuming its flat, analytical drone, but laced with a new, deliberate provocation. “Primary objective: Traverse the ‘Stone Ladder’ course. Failure condition: Falling, or failing to meet time benchmarks. I will be monitoring and providing… critique.”
Azrael and Mammon, still nursing a grudge, barely listened. That changed quickly.
Their first attempt was a disaster. Kaelin hesitated on a slick rock.
INSIDE
IRIS: “Hesitation detected. Azrael’s risk-aversion is suboptimal. Mammon’s impulse control is negligible. Combined failure probability: 87%.”
AZRAEL: “How dare you—!”
MAMMON: “SHUT UP, YOU SPARKLY ABACUS!”
Their shared outrage caused Kaelin to miss her footing and splash into the icy stream.
Elandril raised an eyebrow. “Internal debate?”
Kaelin just scowled, a united front of wet, cold anger.
As the day wore on, IRIS’s commentary became a relentless stream of targeted insults disguised as analysis.
· When Kaelin successfully leaped a gap: “Adequate. Mammon’s brute force application was 34% efficient. Azrael’s aerial posture correction was aesthetically unnecessary but did not impede progress.”
· When they struggled to climb a mossy incline: “Observation: A cooperative entity would alternate push-pull mechanics. You are exhibiting the teamwork of two crabs in a bucket.”
By midday, a profound shift occurred. Azrael and Mammon stopped arguing with each other and began directing their fury outward.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Scenario: The Swinging Vine.
Kaelin needed to grab a vine and swing across a ravine.
INSIDE
IRIS: “Preparing predictive simulation. Most likely outcome: Azrael advocates for caution, causing a late jump. Mammon over-grips, causing a forward spin. Projected landing: Impact with the opposite wall.”
AZRAEL, teeth gritted: “We shall prove her wrong. Mammon, on my mark, commit fully to the jump. I will handle the landing balance.”
MAMMON: “FINE! BUT IF WE FACE-PLANT, I’M BLAMING YOU AND THE TOASTER!”
They moved. It wasn’t graceful—Kaelin swung like a furious, purple pendulum—but they landed on the far side, stumbling but upright.
IRIS: “Result: 22% improvement over simulation. Marginally surprising.”
It was the closest thing to praise they would get, and it fueled them more than any encouragement.
Elandril watched this new dynamic with keen interest. Kaelin’s movements were losing their micro-hesitations. They were becoming decisive, even if the decisions were born of pure spite. He intensified the drills, capitalizing on this fierce new focus.
Days fell into a grueling rhythm: wake, train, eat, train, collapse. The only pauses were for Lyria’s meals, which were devoured with a singular, wordless intensity that made her smile and fret in equal measure. Even Soot learned to steer clear of Kaelin during training hours—she moved with the unpredictable energy of a cornered animal.
One afternoon, tasked with retrieving a flag from the top of a crumbling stone spire, IRIS deployed her masterstroke.
INSIDE
IRIS: “Running final pre-attempt analysis. Based on cumulative data, your individual failure vectors are too pronounced. Azrael will overthink the handholds. Mammon will disregard structural integrity. The logical conclusion is to forfeit and conserve energy.”
A profound, seething silence filled their shared mind. It was no longer two separate rages, but one molten, cohesive ball of indignation.
AZRAEL, voice cold and clear: “We will not forfeit.”
MAMMON, voice a low, agreeing growl: “NO. WE’RE GETTING THAT FLAG. JUST TO WIPE THAT TONE OFF HER CIRCUITS.”
IRIS: “Probability of success remains under 15%. But proceed. The data on catastrophic failure will be instructive.”
What followed was not a climb, but an ascent by sheer, unified will. Azrael analyzed the route with furious precision, calling out holds. Mammon provided the explosive power for each reach, trusting Azrael’s guidance. IRIS, for her part, stayed silent, merely monitoring the vital signs that showed two opposing neural signatures aligning into a coherent, determined pattern.
Kaelin’s hands bled on the stone. Her muscles screamed. But she climbed. At the top, she grabbed the tattered flag with a triumphant, gasping snatch.
INSIDE
Both souls were too exhausted for words, but a raw, shared sense of victory pulsed between them.
IRIS broke the silence, her voice devoid of any provocation, simply stating a fact: “Objective achieved. Synergy rating during final ascent: 94%. New maximum recorded. Analysis: Adversarial cohesion protocol is a success.”
The climb down was slower, more careful. When Kaelin finally stood back on solid ground, legs trembling, Elandril was there. He didn’t offer praise. He offered a waterskin and a long look.
“You found a new gear,” he said simply. “A loud, angry one. But it works.”
That evening, soaked in sweat and satisfaction, the old dynamic tried to reassert itself in the bath.
INSIDE
MAMMON: “SO… WE SHOWED HER, HUH?”
AZRAEL: “We demonstrated competence, yes. Though the motivation was… unorthodox.”
IRIS: “Your motivation is irrelevant. The result is a 40% increase in effective physical coordination. The protocol will continue.”
AZRAEL & MAMMON: “What?!”
But their protest was weak. They were too tired, and the evidence was too clear. They were better, faster, stronger when they banded together against IRIS’s calculated disdain.
The chapter closed with Kaelin asleep the moment her head touched the pillow, her body a testament to the day’s brutal labor. In the quiet dark, IRIS ran her final systems check. The log entry was succinct and bore the first hint of something resembling strategic satisfaction.
“Project Common Front: Operational.
Method: Utilize my role as unified adversary to force A/M alignment.
Efficacy: Exceeds projections. Physical performance metrics up 40%. Internal conflict (A/M) during tasks down 70%.
Secondary Effect: Internal conflict (A/M vs. I) up 300%, but channeled into productive output.
Conclusion: They are a dysfunctional unit. Their dysfunction can be weaponized into efficiency. I am the whetstone. They are the blades being ground against me. The process is violent, loud, and effective.
Tomorrow’s forecast: More training. More insults. More progress. The fortress is not just being built; it is being forged.”
