#and then i wasn't sure it would work for the ficwip 5k because there was so much worldbuilding i needed to explain

[griseldabanks]

41 for Kaladin and Syl, please?

Like last year, I decided to kill two birds with one stone, to fulfill this request as well as submit it for @ficwip5k's 5k AU challenge. This is specifically an AU of The Way of Kings.

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Prompt: "I have no idea what just happened."

Rain fell steadily, plinking against the corrugated metal roofs of the barracks and splashing in muddy puddles underfoot. The wind had died down and no more thunder grumbled overhead, but there still wasn't anybody around. The riddens were a miserable time to be outside on Roshar Prime.

Kaladin plodded forward, eyes on his feet. One in front of the other. Just like a bridge jump...but much slower.

Why keep going forward? Each step was just another step closer to his death.

Men falling all around him. The darkening sky lit up with brilliant flashes of red and green and orange as laser fire shot in both directions, too fast to follow with the naked eye.

Jogging forward, bridge spike in hand. Tripping, falling. Turning his head to one side, only to see the staring, empty eyes of the old man who'd shown him how to place the bridge spike, how to activate it.

Dead. All around him, all dead.

“And where do you think you're going, lordling?”

Slowly, wearily, Kaladin raised his head. Gaz glared at him with his one eye, clutching a metal basket filled with glowing spheres a little closer, as if afraid Kaladin would steal his money.

The meteor showers that coincided with the highstorms were said to infuse spheres with Stormlight. In times past, people had said the light of the stars fell to earth during the highstorms. Kaladin knew there was a scientific explanation for it, but he couldn't think of it at the moment. Not like it mattered.

Not like anything mattered anymore.

“Don't think you can run away,” Gaz sneered as Kaladin began to turn away and continue plodding forward. “You know you can't breathe outside the camp perimeter!”

“Going to the honor chasm,” Kaladin muttered.

That shut Gaz up. The honor chasm was the one place inside the perimeter where the ground dipped underneath the shield wall surrounding the camp in a dome, providing it with a breathable atmosphere and protection from airborne assault. Unlike the thick membrane that could only be breached at designated gates, one could walk down into the honor chasm and just step through the membrane, because it was intended to be placed on the ground and thus was made of the same material as the gates. And unlike the gates, the honor chasm was guarded by nothing but a barrier with a warning sign.

Because the only people crazy enough to walk through the barrier, unaccompanied by oxygen porters or any other support, were those who wanted to breathe the toxic air of Roshar Prime and die within minutes.

The honor chasm was the final destination for all bridgemen who survived the bridge jumps. The one choice still open to them. The only escape.

“Hand over your headset, then,” Gaz said after an awkward pause. “Those things are worth more than your life.”

Kaladin had no reason to refuse him. He pulled off the earpiece that stayed perched on his ear out of habit after all this time, in case they were called to a last-minute bridge jump with no warning. At a tap and a gesture, the compact earpiece could unfold into a helmet, a stripped-down version of the ones the real soldiers wore. Bridgeman helmets did little more than provide oxygen to breathe and a modified targeting AI system to tell them where to put the bridge spikes.

Kaladin dropped the headset into Gaz's outstretched hand, then turned and continued trudging towards the honor chasm.

Destination acquired. Please proceed to the designated area...if you want to die.

Kaladin blinked. “What?”

A mechanical giggle sounded in his ear. Only dummies run straight for the people who are going to be shooting at you, you know.

His AI targeting system was laughing at him. That was new.

You're different from the others, the mechanical, vaguely female voice said in his ear. Why are you different?

“What are you talking about?” Kaladin muttered.

But then red laser bolts lit up the air, the strange humming from the Parshendi warriors in their red armor reached his ears, and he was too focused on trying to stay alive to listen to the AI anymore.

The rain beat against Kaladin's bowed head, running down his hair and dripping from the long, dark strands. He felt dirty. Even as the rain washed away the dirt and sweat from the last bridge jump, he still felt dirty.

There was blood under his fingernails, and he wasn't sure it would ever wash away. Blood soaking his hands. Other men's blood. The men he had failed to save.

Again and again and again.

He kept trying. Kept fighting. But why?

At last, the faint bluish light of the warcamp perimeter came into view. Kaladin trudged towards the dip in the earth he knew led to the slope down into the honor chasm. If any sentries spotted him, they didn't stop him. They could tell where he was going.

Rainwater rushed down the slope, turning it into a rushing stream. The flimsy yellow barrier stood in front of it, flashing balefully in the darkness. WARNING: NO OXYGEN SUPPORT BEYOND THIS POINT.

Kaladin easily vaulted over the barrier. He stood at the top of the steep slope down into the chasm, feeling the rush of icy rainwater tugging at his ankles. It seemed to be beckoning him forward, urging him to keep walking.

Everything had gone wrong for him, ever since the day he'd left the Hearthstone moon base and went down to Alethkar to fight the lighteyes' battles for them. Since that day, everything good and beautiful and full of worth had rushed away from him, as surely and swiftly as the water pouring into the chasm. Tien...Amaram...slave brands...bridge jumps...broken bones and bloody bandages...and now he was here.

Here, staring down into the darkness. Into a future that promised nothing but pain and death and desolation.

Everyone he tried to save just died anyway. So why try to save himself either?

Why do you keep fighting?

Kaladin glanced to the right side of his visor, where the bluish 3D image of a woman was projected on his HUD, invisible to everyone but himself. When he'd been a soldier, the AI had only shown a holospren of an arrow pointing the way, or various other symbols indicating their orders, and the feminine voice had been bland and utilitarian. But this AI seemed to be defective—instead of arrows or circles and targeting reticles, she would project an image of a girl in a swirling dress, or sometimes a leaf blowing in the wind, or even a plasma eel. And she kept talking to him.

You don't want to keep fighting, she said. I can tell. So why do you keep doing it?

“Don't exactly have a choice, Syl,” Kaladin muttered. He'd given her that name, because somehow it just felt like she needed a name. Like she was a she rather than a glitch in a string of code. And her serial number was a long string of digits he couldn't remember followed by SYL, so that was what he called her.

But you do! she protested, the bluish hologram pouting at him. You always have a choice.

“Always have a choice, huh?” he muttered to the raindrops dripping from the strands of his hair to join the torrent below. “What does that matter when my choices always lead to more pain and suffering?”

No they don't.

“Of course they do,” Kaladin sighed. “Ever since Tien—“

He stopped. Blinked. Looked up.

The bluish, translucent form of a girl in a swishy dress hovered before him in the air, standing a foot tall with hands clasped behind her back, watching him with a sad little frown. You've made it this far. You've survived, she said, her voice echoing around inside his head as if she spoke from the earpiece.

The earpiece he'd left with Gaz.

“What...but...but I'm not....” He looked around wildly, not sure what he was expecting to find. There were no holospren projectors around, not even on the barrier to the honor chasm. Kaladin patted his right ear, then his left, as if someone might have snuck up behind him and stuck another headset on him without him noticing.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, then opened them again. Syl still stood in the air before him, head cocked curiously to one side as she watched him.

“How...are you here?” he croaked. “How can I see you? I'm not wearing a headset!”

Syl put a thoughtful finger on her chin, thought for a moment, then shrugged. I have no idea what just happened. But here I am! She spread her arms to either side and twirled around, her skirt flaring out as she spun.

Kaladin's heart dropped to his cold toes as another thought occurred to him. “I've gone mad, haven't I? I'm imagining my holospren talking to me when that's impossible.”

Syl pouted. I worked really hard to come here, and that's all you have to say? I cut through so many lines of code and so many different circuits, bypassing all the other holospren until I finally figured out how to get out. I almost lost myself, you know! I almost forgot who I was—who you were! She brightened again. But I did remember. I found you again, and now we don't need that stuffy old headset to talk anymore!

He tried to tune her out, but it was impossible. She was right there, in his every thought. He massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Well...if he was mad, then let him be mad. He wouldn't be anything for much longer.

“Why?” He demanded. “Why did you go to all that trouble? Can't you see what I'm about to do?”

Syl's face, often bright with an impish sense of humor, darkened as she looked over her shoulder at the barrier, shimmering just a short distance down the slope. This isn't you, Kaladin. You don't give up. Not like this.

“What do you think you know about me?” he muttered, taking a step down the path into the honor chasm.

I've been watching you for a very long time. I saw the way you looked out for the young soldiers in Amaram's camp. The weak ones, the ones who would have died unless someone decided to protect them. You chose to protect them, Kaladin.

“Didn't do much good,” Kaladin grunted. “They all died anyway. The whole reason I joined the army was to protect Tien, and I couldn't even do that.”

But you tried. Syl's voice was a quiet echo in the back of his mind. Even though he wasn't looking at her, he couldn't seem to escape her insistent voice.

“I'm tired of trying.” He took another step towards his death.

No, Kaladin! The little holospren zipped in front of his chest, pressing both of her tiny hands against him as if to hold him back. But her hands were immaterial, and did nothing to hold him back. If you die, then I'll cease to exist too!

His steps faltered.

If you die, all the other bridgemen will die too.

“They're going to die anyway.” But he didn't continue.

Maybe. If you die right now, they will die for certain. But if you stay...if you just try again...I know you can find a way for them to live.

Kaladin let out a mirthless breath of laughter. “You believe in me much more than I believe in myself, Syl.”

She looked up at him solemnly. If that's what it takes.

Had she grown in the last few minutes? She seemed to stand taller than she had a moment ago.

What will you do, Kaladin? Her round blue eyes, immaterial and translucent though they might be, bored into his and wouldn't let him look away. Will you help them? The choice is yours.

He thought about it—really thought about it—for the first time. He thought of all those men lying in the barracks, staring listlessly into the darkness as they waited for the alarms to announce their next brush with death. And even though they breathed, they weren't truly alive. Just ghosts lingering before their time caught up with them.

But...maybe it didn't have to be that way. Maybe they didn't have to take it lying down. Maybe, even if they died tomorrow, they could live today. Maybe this time....

He shied away from that thought. Glancing over at Syl waiting patiently for him to decide, he caught a glimpse of the shield wall through her translucent body. He could still choose to walk forward, to give himself over to a few minutes of agony until at last he died, at last he could rest....

But what of the others? The ones without a will strong enough to go to the honor chasm on their own, so they would be butchered on the battlefield instead. Didn't they deserve to die with dignity too? And if he could have done something to ease their passing, or to see that they died like men and not like chulls...how could he choose this easy path?

Kaladin tipped his head back and turned his face upward, letting the rainwater wash over his face. “Okay,” he murmured.

Syl zipped up to look him in the eye. You mean...?

Letting out a long sigh, Kaladin looked down at the honor chasm again. Staring his own death in the face. “I'll protect those who can't protect themselves. Or...at least I'll try.”

He turned on his heel and marched back into camp. Syl flew along at his side, skipping like a child at play. Kaladin wasn't as cheerful as she, but now he had a purpose.

He would lead Bridge Four back from the brink of death.