Ar'Kendrithyst

Erick stood on a silver hill and stared at the black sky—

Solomon opened a [Gate] next to him and stepped out, looking… different. Erick allowed himself to stop looking at the sky, to look at Solomon, head on. He was… more solid. His eyes were platinum instead of grey, and shot through with lines of gold here and there. His skin was flawless, along with his platinum grey beard and hair.

Erick said, “So that [Gate] means you completed the Worldly Path and also True Wizardry, and got a mantle of minor divinity. Big day for you, too.”

Solomon smiled. “It all kinda happened fast. I hear you had something to do with all of that.”

“I did some Fate Magic with Phagar a few months ago. Tried to help you along with a bunch of others. Didn’t foresee the divinity, though. As long as you’re comfortable with it, I’m happy for you.”

Solomon made a long bench on the silver hill and sat down. Erick sat down with him. Solomon said, “Destiny is trying to Ascend, too, but we all told her to calm down. I heard you tried for her, too.”

“Oh yeah,” Erick said, looking up at the sky. Only a thin sliver of the view held any stars. The rest was the full-black of Fenrir. Not even the [Terraforming] storms remained. Nothanganathor was moving, and most of it was happening outside of sight. “I tried for a lot. Destiny, you, Sitnakov, Killzone. Even put some effort into getting Jane and my other kids there, but that would have been forcing something that wasn’t ready at all. I put the most effort into making it all happen at the same time. The gods did the same; more so than I knew they were doing. I had a feeling that Nothanganathor would notice as soon as we achieved something which he could not, and which could actually threaten him… and he has.”

Solomon looked at the sky with Erick. “Storms are gone.”

“Yup.” Erick pointed at a particular spot in the black sky. “Right there. Do you see it?”

Solomon looked— He breathed deep, and then he sighed. “Yup.”

Erick pointed to a different part of Fenrir. “There, too.”

“… Oh yeah.”

They were tiny red glints. Barely noticeable. If it weren’t for Erick’s monumentally enhanced senses and his ability to See beyond illusions, then he would have missed them. The red glints were small, with the one on the right bigger than the one on the left, but it was definitely there.

Erick said, “They’re more noticeable in the future.”

Solomon’s eyes flickered. “Yeah they are. And… It’s spreading? Yeah. It’s spreading. Whatever it is.”

“Nothanganathor has been doing something to Fenrir, but now he sped it up a lot. In a day you’ll be able to see it, fully.”

Solomon pulled a beer out of the air, made a copy, and handed one off to Erick. “Time enough to take a minute or twenty.”

Erick took the beer. It was good. “Did you hear? Chernom came back. Can barely tell the difference between him and the old Killzone, except for the mannerisms.”

“I think Chernom’s fangs might be smaller,” Solomon said, “Holds himself completely differently, though.”

“Oh no doubt about that. Anyone looking would not think Chernom was Killzone. I wonder if Killzone will change his name back.”

“He’s not really Kosomov anymore, so I doubt he’ll change it.”

“Wrought don’t really go backward with their trauma, do they?”

“Ha! No one really does.”

Erick nodded.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the sounds of the Silver Forest all around. Wind blew through the silver canopies of mountain-tall white, eternal stonewood trees. Smaller winds rustled the much, much smaller normal trees, with their brown trunks and green canopies, hanging out and growing at a normal tree-height.

Slimes abounded, and birds made their homes wherever they wished. Birds were the first to colonize the land up here, and they loved it. The most prominent birds were Koyabez’s starlings.

Those little silver birds were wonderful to watch in flight. They were like parrots, but bright silver and they formed almost 4-pointed stars when in flight, and when seen from below. They chirped at each other as they flew across the peaceful world, in Koyabez’s Silver Forest.

Poi had once shown Erick a transformative memory when he saw one of those birds, one time. He had sighted the creature when he was searching for answers in his life regarding the Dragon Stalkers who killed his mom, and about the Quiet War, and about hatred in general. Seeing that bird had been Poi’s call to Peace. After that Poi had gone to Spur’s Army to put his anger to use in a way that even Koyabez could appreciate. Of course it had been more complicated than that, but that was the outcome after years of soul searching when Poi was a kid.

Solomon watched the birds with Erick, and his mind probably went to the same places.

Solomon asked, “Did you manage to get that Fractal Mark in your [Telepathy] undone?”

Erick smiled. “Does Wise King Solomon think I should?”

“I poked at mine, but rapidly decided to stop that. Rozeta did all the hard work. I got a reson wallet like you, now. Rozeta said the Mark didn’t like being messed with by outside forces so we had to break the Fractal Mark to make that happen. We made what we could out of it.” Solomon said, “Rozeta warned me about that before we did the procedure. Still glad I did it.”

“… Huh.” Erick said, “I didn’t imagine that it would just… break.”

“From my understanding, Killzone and Sitnakov broke theirs at the same time.”

Erick nodded. “Big day.”

And then Solomon asked a serious question, “Why didn’t you try to get Jane, Abigail, Bethany, Candice, or Evan Ascended? Or at least Wizard Ignited? I mean… You talk about time frames… But I gotta ask, man.”

Erick asked his own serious question, “Did they want it? How far does a Demigod of Wisdom’s knowledge actually go? Or Rozeta’s new powers, for that matter? Do you think I could have helped my kids in that way? Or how about Ophiel? He deserves it just as much.” Erick said, “No; they were too far away from that sort of help, and if they ever found out during any part of the process it would be a horrible backlash.”

“… Fair enough.” Solomon said, “I’m going to work on Igniting them.”

Erick considered… that. And then he nodded. “Good. I hope it works out. They might listen to you more than they listened to me.”

“They’ve gotten better about accepting help, you know. They got dragon’d… But I suppose the journey to Ascension is personal, otherwise whatever True Wizards came before would have control over those who Ascended afterward, simply by being there at the base of the creation.”

Erick nodded. And then he smiled, and said, “Wise.”

Solomon barked a laugh.

Eventually, Solomon finished his beer.

Erick finished his beer, too.

Solomon pointedly glanced at the red glints on Fenrir’s surface, then said, “That’s going to take a full week to manifest at our current time dilation difference. You have time to make something of your own Fractal Mark.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what it has to be, and it’s not going to happen now.”

Erick was talking about something he didn’t want to think about.

Solomon understood, because he was Erick, but different, and then said, “That’s one option. You could choose a different option that leaves the Benevolent Sky with a future unhindered by uncertainty.”

Erick chuckled at that. “Come on now, Solomon. There should be some wisdom in leaving some uncertainty in the future.”

Solomon huffed a laugh. “I should have picked a different name. You and the girls and Evan make fun of me way too much. Melemizargo even started, too, by giving me this Wisdom Mantle.”

Erick smiled at that, and then he said, “I don’t want to make the Benevolent Sky foolproof. The future should be written differently from what the prognosticators say.”

“Yup. That seems pretty wise to me, too.” Solomon asked, “Ready to get back to it? Or are you gonna stare at the sky for a while?”

“For a little while longer. You headed back to the Blue Corps? Or back to your ‘kingdom’ of dungeon delvers and slimes?” Erick said, “I like what you did with Dungeon Island, by the way.”

“They’re all great people, there.” Solomon said, “There are a few more things to pull out of the Black Gate, with some of their help. Rozeta and Melemizargo expect Nothanganathor to have a few specific items, like the World Crasher Mallet and the Whirlpool. The Mallet is about as simple as it gets, but the Whirlpool would destroy Domains and other Authorities across a few lightyears of space. I’m going to grab the Light Shield and the Bulwark Bastion to counter both of those… Maybe a few more items, too.”

Erick shuddered a little. “Terrifying.”

“Yup.” Solomon paused. “I’ll look into getting something for morale, too, now that you mention it. I’m not even sure of a target for that…” He decided, “I’ll ask around.”

“See you soon, then.”

Solomon got up and walked through a Genesis [Gate], saying, “Soon.”

The gate shut.

Erick stared at the sky for a while.

There was a lot he could be doing and yet he had done as much as he was able to do. War would soon be upon them… or at least Erick hoped it was a war, and not an annihilation. Wars were winnable.

For the briefest of moments, Erick considered betraying Melemizargo and giving up the Painted Cosmology. It would be the easy way out. It would ensure the survival of everyone else… for a while, at least. And then Erick shook that thought away. Aside from Nothanganathor’s questionable ethics in upholding his deal to ‘take Melemizargo and no one else’ or however-the-fuck that slimy leviathan had phrased it, it was the ‘for a while, at least’ that really made Erick ignore the deal. How long was ‘a while’? Never long enough, even if it was millions of years long. Nothanganathor had proven himself as more than willing to play the long game.

And then there were all the smaller universes that Nothanganathor was going to consume if he were allowed to take the Mantle of the God of Magic.

No; Erick would not bargain with that horror.

He would not capitulate.

He would not falter.

Nothanganathor was going to die, and then he was going to be sundered in turn for what he had done to others, and for what he promised to continue to do to others.

Erick wondered what the Erased One’s opening move would be…

Aside from those glints in the sky, whatever they were. They certainly weren’t beam attacks aimed this way. They were something else entirely.

- - - -

- -

- - - -

- -

- - - -

On a black metal beach, a bright Red sky stretched all the way to the Throne of God. It was a wonderful view to Oozy, as he walked with a drink in hand. The drink was cold and the black metal burned his flesh, the soles of his feet sizzling on the surface of Fenrir. That was wonderful, too. All sensations were good.

Oozy wished that Everbless would have done some real terraforming, though. It all looked so shitty out there. Bare metal? Scattered lands? Scattered trees that were like splashes of green in the Red sky? Bah. That stupid World Tree could have done so much more by now. They had had a year and a half to get ready for Erick’s return, and now Erick was on Veird and Veird was already at…

Oozy hummed. “Are they at a year already? Under that Shelter?”

Maybe a little over a year, actually. Another hour and they’d have another year under that Shelter. Two years of prep! Surely Nothanganathor wouldn’t give them that much prep time, right? Of course not. Nothanganathor just wanted the garden to be ready for plucking; not turned into an unassailable fortress.

Surely it would be starting soo—

The sky vibrated, the heavens twisting into a whisper, into a command.

Nothanganathor spoke, “The time is here.”

Oozy smiled wide, revealing way too many teeth as he crushed his drink in his hand. He laughed at the world, at the endless, half-realized expanse of adamantium and scattered lands and oceans larger than any planet, all ahead of him, and at the bright Red sky overhead, that filled the entire space between here and the Throne of God.

The universe thrummed.

“We set the stage.”

The True God stretched Red out into the sky of Fenrir, like needles the thickness of planets, threading through the void between the Throne of Nothanganathor’s Sun and the land where mortals walked. Those needles touched down and scraped existence into reality, ripping apart the veils between worlds and showing the true forces of God for all to see.

Oozy cackled as he gazed upon the True Kingdom.

- - - -

By the end of the first day after the ‘Big Day’, Erick knew this wasn’t going to be a normal war.

The two Red glints on the Surface of Fenrir were expanding at a phenomenal rate. They had been barely visible 24 hours ago, and now both of them were obviously visible. When Erick held his hand out, the first spot was less than the size of his pinky nail, while the second Red glint was half that size. With some very rough math, Erick estimated that each glint was maybe ten times the size of Veird’s diameter. So the Red glints were maybe 800,000 kilometers across? Less? More? Who knew.

Looking at those glints reminded Erick of looking at Jupiter in the night sky, back on Earth.

By the end of the second day, there were 79 Red glints on the outer surface of Fenrir, and the initial glints were more like smudges.

By the third day, the glints revealed themselves as something else entirely; they were a transportation or a reorientation or some other sort of transformational, Infinity-based magics. Specifically, Erick guessed they were reality reorientation magics. Solomon and others had more nuanced ideas. Whatever the specific case, everyone saw and understood what had happened, though they weren’t sure what Nothanganathor’s real goal was.

The Red glints had washed out across the land, and though they left Red wounds on the world, they also left behind civilizations. Villages and towns and cities. Metropolises. Oceans of life. All of it noticeable. All of it known. That’s what really got people worried, and for multiple reasons.

In a large auditorium in the Blue Corps center of Queen Anhelia’s Kendrithyst, the combined forces of the world had a meeting.

Erick wasn’t a speaker today. He watched as Jane stood in front of the generals of the combined Armies of the Blue Corps, and leaders of the world, in front of a projection of one of the most prominent Red glints. It was a close-up image, as much as could be had from millions of kilometers away, and though Red lingered everywhere, it was clearly an image of a mountain range.

A bunch of spheres floated around a central mountain inside the Red glint, like an orrery.

“The Orrery of Rozeta,” Jane said, as she spoke of the image behind her. “It’s been confirmed by Rozeta herself.” She flipped to another Red glint, and this one was less well-known, but Erick recognized those dark streets anywhere. “And this one is Death Throne, in the south. We haven’t put any names to any other of the locations, for all the rest were too crowded with Red to see what was happening, but these were the first two to come out, and we’ll likely know the rest as soon as the Red pulls back some. We’ll know more in the following week, because the Red Glints are expanding faster and faster. Fenrir is catching up to our time differential.

“In 14 days, we expect Fenrir to fully match our timeframe. The Shelter of Veird doesn’t need to be broken at all by Nothanganathor, or dropped by us, because Nothanganathor can simply match our speed.

“As for what is to come:

“We believe that Nothanganathor has stolen parts of Veird and is setting us up for some sort of ‘attack of our own’, or perhaps a lateral attack of some sort. That’s the bad news. More bad news is that many people who have been Erased or which we have killed appear to be coming out of those Red glints. We’re not sure what is happening there, but here is an example of something we can point to and see for what it is:”

An image appeared of a lich and a woman, walking along in a castle in Death Throne. There had actually been a bunch of examples of what Jane was showing, but she chose to show this one.

“This is Lich Toenail and his human slave wife Contay. Toenail was one of the main forces behind the eventual Redding of the Fractured Citadels and central Quintlan, because his current wife, Contay, was taken from him by the Red. Here he is, with her once again. So he got what he wanted, even though we killed him, and Quilatalap personally oversaw his containment, and we all oversaw his Sundering.

“More bad news:”

Jane switched lightward images to show the Orrery, where Teressa stood with Dariok and Lenitha, frozen in Red time, smiling as they looked up at the Orrery floating overhead.

Teressa and Dariok were in the audience, too, sitting beside Erick. Dariok had come back to real life just the other day. Lenitha was with Ophiel in Benevolence itself. Lenitha had no idea about all of this, but Teressa and Dariok knew of what was going to happen at this presentation as of hours ago, when all of this shit first appeared in the sky, so they had put their daughter into Benevolence. Lenitha was having a good time with Ophiel.

Jane said, “If Nothanganathor is bringing Erased people back to life, then that is what he is doing, but we doubt that any of these people coming out of the Red were ever Erased at all. We believe these are side realities brought into this one. Whatever the case, we will keep you all apprised as we strive to understand what is happening, but for now, we’re treating these people as versions of ourselves taken from other Veirds that Nothanganathor has consumed.”

The audience was rife with small words and disbelief and worry and scoffing and open hatred.

Jane let the audience calm before she continued.

Jane continued, “The good news is that the Red glints are still holding across the Orrery and Death Throne, and all the other lands that we can’t really see yet, so they’re still time-locked, even if Fenrir is speeding up to catch up to Veird’s timeframe. We expect all of that land to remain time-locked, until Nothanganathor delivers some sort of ultimatum. And then he’ll release them for whatever reason, or he’ll do something else.

“And that’s the state of the War.”

Jane called for questions.

People instantly started talking over each other.

It was organized chaos, and Erick helped to manage that chaos, but he was mostly outside of the command structure of the Blue Corps. This was Jane’s show. Erick’s forces only personally consisted of the Valkyries, and Shivraa, the minotaur Harmi, and a relatively new wrought Valkyrie named Phillal. The Valkyries were already in attendance, and hearing what they needed to hear with regard to this public information session.

Erick soon found himself speaking with King Alfonin Stratagold and the human adamantium king of Titanite, a man by the name of Somov Titanite.

Sitnakov was over with Jane, talking to some people from Nelboor, that included Nirzir.

Alfonin asked Somov, “Have you taken Killzone back into your Heavies?”

“No,” Somov said, looking at Sitnakov on the other side of the auditorium. “Though we have spoken with him about old times. He saw his parents for a brief minute. When this is over and we have won, we will consider more unification.” Somov looked up at Alfonin, his face going unreadable. “Titanite wishes to reforge bonds anyway; to put aside all distaste and rivalry.”

Alfonin said, “Stratagold accepts.”

Somov nodded, and then he looked to Erick. “How goes Phillal’s introduction to the Valkyries?”

“She’s adjusting well. She has a good head for Geode culture on her shoulders, and she’s a fantastic war dancer, so her introduction to the collective has made the whole organization stronger. We should be able to work well with all ground-based forces from the Geodes.” Erick added, “But according to what we’re seeing, I doubt this will be a normal war at all.”

Alfonin asked the big question, “When he comes to you with an ultimatum, what will you say?”

“That he can die in fire, as he deserves.”

Many people around the conversation of kings, not involved directly but listening anyway, relaxed at Erick’s brazen declaration.

Somov nodded in approval.

Alfonin smiled. And then he moved on, “We would like to offer a few more soldiers for the Valkyries, for Titanite can’t be the only ones to step forward. Phillal is one of Titanite’s best dancers and weavers, but we have Rubikia, and she’s been dancing around opponents of all sizes for a thousand years, including Phillal.”

Somov was a little miffed that right after asking to reforge bonds between Titanite and Stratagold that Alfonin would try to move in on Titanite’s establishing ties to the Valkyries, but then Alfonin mentioned Rubikia, and even Somov had to agree that it was a good idea.

Erick said, “I remember her at Bright Tea all those years ago. I’ll be glad to have her. I remember she trounced Sitnakov rather well.”

Rubikia was one of the main defenders of Stratagold, and Erick was happy to have her. But all that Erick really knew about the woman was that she was made of hellite, and that she was incani-shaped, and that she was accomplished at war. The only real question of her was regarding her base nature; her hellite body. Erick had no idea how that would interfere with her… taking the Valkyrie Class? Or was she going to ask for a real Blood Resurrection as a Valkyrie?

Erick didn’t want to ask those questions in public, though.

Somov said, “She’s as good of a fighter as she is a dancer, and being of hellite caste should make her into a formidable Valkyrie.” He added, as a question, “Or would that interfere with the Exalted nature of part of that magic?”

Erick said, “I was just wondering that myself. I will have to speak with her later.”

“We don’t foresee it being a problem,” Alfonin said.

‘Later’ turned out to be an hour later, and Rubikia had already gotten a Status Reset through Rozeta, and she was ready to pledge herself to House Benevolence and Erick himself. That was enough for her to be offered the Quest to take the Valkyrie Class, which, for her, was just a simple ‘do you want to do this’ sort of Quest. She said yes.

Rubikia transformed, her hellite body burbling into Carnage and Blood and then flashing outward into bright pink metal.

She was still made of hellite as a Valkyrie, but she was now 4 meters tall and with floating wings made of bone-swords. She loomed over Erick for a brief moment, and then she got down on her knees, to pledge, “My life and my swords for the good of all, and every individual.”

“I accept,” Erick said. “Welcome, Rubikia.”

Shivraa, also as a Valkyrie, but just a bit shorter and mostly made of pale purple bloodice, also accepted Rubikia’s pledge, saying, “Welcome to the front lines of the war, sister.”

Erick let them get acquainted. He had other places to be.

- - - -

Erick stood upon the inverted land of the Outer Core, where continents stretched up and around the blue Core of Veird, up there in the center of the clear sky.

Rozeta stood with Erick, and said, “The personal Script is not ready, nor will it be ready for a very long time, and I’m handing the project off to Ezekiel. He has come a long way with tinkering and runecraft. Further than you, by far, and Gnowmi is assisting him with that.”

“… Okay… That wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but you have big reasons for delaying the creation of personal Scripts, I assume?”

“Yes.” Rozeta said, “Personal Scripts have to be personal, for I wish to make them into Ascension machines. Quite simply: To tie the Personal Scripts to divinity would be a failure of foresight. One only has to look at what happened to the original Goddess of Knowledge to know that this would be an unwise tying-of-power. A mortal working has a much higher chance of existing long, long after everything is done.

“That was the original philosophy behind the original manaminers, oh so long ago, and it proved prescient. Much of Knowledge is like that; to tie what a Personal Script could be to me would be to deny the Truths of others.

“As for making Valkyries immune to the vagaries of inclement Authority, you have already done that. I’ve tweaked a few things to shore up their Class to allow them to survive outside of the Script. That particular power will be going out to everyone, thanks to the [Spellsurge Weave] that can allow them to connect, even when they are outside of the Authority of Veird.”

Erick relaxed. “That’s good. That’s all we really needed, anyway.”

“Don’t let anyone stay out in space for an extended period of time, though. The basic system to allow spaceflight is just that; basic. Those who prove good at spaceflight can stay out there longer.”

Erick smiled. “Heard and understood.”

And then Erick waited.

… Rozeta breathed in, then out, and said, “Kirginatharp awaits your Benevolence on the other side of the Outer Core.”

“Thank you,” Erick said. “I’ll raise him up to a dragon again, if you want… But by your expression, that sounds distasteful to you?”

“Everything about this particular thing is distasteful, Erick.” Rozeta said, “But we’re in a war for survival, and I will need to protect my son myself. It will be difficult and… and I fear I will be unable to do that. I already lost one son to the Red. I cannot lose Kirginatharp, too.”

“I’m fully fearful of losing any of my kids, too. Hopefully most of the fighting will take place outside of Veird.”

Rozeta breathed, and then she nodded.

She opened a portal to the other side of the Outer Core.

They stepped through, and the two of them stood in the front yard of a mansion set back from a cliff, facing an ocean. Kirginatharp stood beside a stone table in that front yard. Erick’s purple lightmask-enchanted teapot sat on the table, steaming away, and three cups of tea sat waiting for them. The whole place reminded Erick of Windy Manor, at Oceanside, where he had lived with Poi, Teressa, Kiri, and Rats, and spent his semester learning magic at the arcanaeum.

It had been a long time since then.

Kirginatharp tensed as he saw Erick. And then he spoke first, “I had hoped to ease into… to talk for a while, and to mull over how much I was going to lose in the [Reincarnation], but it appears I would rather get this over with fast.”

Erick said, “Thank you, Kirginatharp, for allowing the removal of your Dragon Curse.” He turned to Rozeta. “Could you put up an absolute multiversal shift, to keep this part secret here from the other realms of Veird?”

Rozeta and Kirginatharp both paused as they looked at Erick—

Rozeta raised her eyebrows, as the Knowledge of what Erick wanted to do appeared to her. “Oh…” She considered. “It is done.”

A barrier flashed across the entire cliffside.

There was a conversation.

Erick tried to forget it as much as he could, and he didn’t have a clear idea of what he wanted to do, anyway. That might have been enough to prevent inclement prognostications from interfering in that plan.

- - - -

Preparations were done as much as they could have been done almost two weeks ago, by now. Or maybe even months, really.

The world was ready for war.

Fenrir was not ready for war at all, but it could be, soon. The people down there were locked in Red, but some of them were troops standing in formation.

Erick hovered in the sky, at the closest point between Veird to Fenrir. He was still inside the Script, but he was only ten kilometers from the Edge. From horizon to horizon, Erick floated between two worlds.

Veird was layered with silver trees and white light.

Fenrir was several orders of magnitude wider, and much, much further away. Civilization after civilization lay somewhat hodgepodged together down there on that green, blue, and cloud-covered surface… Once you got past the Red that covered everything. Red sparks clung to every surface, rippling and layering and containing the people in a [Time Stop]. But the clouds kinda moved like clouds should move. Or at least the upper clouds moved.

Veird and Fenrir were basically on the same time, and would be moving at exactly the same rate in about ten minutes, according to the maths.

Erick watched the clouds down there roll by, like threads of white upon the incredibly large surface—

Fallopolis stepped to stand beside Erick, her white eyes shining as bright as Melemizargo’s. The Champion of the God of Magic was looking good in her chosen form; like a warrior grandmother, with armored robes and her big black kendrithyst staff floating beside her, ready to be grabbed at a moment’s notice.

Fallopolis said, “This is going to be a lateral attack.”

Erick had his own guesses, but he asked, “What are you thinking?”

“An attack along the fundamental natures of magic itself.” Fallopolis said, “Probably divinity-based; A twisting of the gods of Veird through mass worship. We’ve already shored up the Script to prevent that, but attack and defense are an ever-evolving war of trial and failure, and the people down there are copies of us up here.”

“I expect him to try something more normal at first, but yes, a worship-based, nature-of-mana lateral attack will likely be the main attack. He wouldn’t bring people from side realities unless he was going to use them. Could just be a show of civilization-building, though.” Erick added, “Could be making hostages.”

“Will you attempt to save them if they’re real?”

Fallopolis had asked the question innocently enough, but there was a reason Erick had raised the point himself. He and she were playing small roles right now, for all the other people behind them, watching from Veird, praying for miracles in Veird’s favor.

Those people focused on Erick’s one known weakness; he tried to save everyone. Erick almost wanted to deny that, to lie and say he would annihilate everything down there without remorse. And yet, to say that was just as callous, and would cause a morale drop on this side of the war.

So Erick said, “I have long ago chosen who to care about when it comes to infinity, Fallopolis, and the people I care about are here. We will be saving our own, first.”

Fallopolis was serious right now, but she allowed herself a small relaxation upon hearing Erick’s words. She didn’t grin, but her voice was lighter as she said, “You know? I still have that little Blessing of Minor Truth you gave to me so many years ago. It is a true comfort knowing that you’re telling the truth.”

Erick allowed himself a smile. “All these years later, eh?”

“Of course. I told you I would cherish it forever, our Fire of the Age, and I will.”

Erick lightly teased, “You told me you’d come up with a new name, too.”

“Ha!” Fallopolis said, “I might need to actually start working on that promise—” she waved a free hand at Fenrir. “—as soon as this trash is done with.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Fallopolis.”

Fallopolis bowed in the air and then flew backward, before vanishing into the shadows of the sky of Veird.

The Valkyries waited down below, in squads scattered around the entire Silver Surface. Most of them would head left or right or up or down, if they needed to. Killzone and Sitnakov were ready, wherever they were. The girls and Evan and Poi and Rizala were down below, at the main Blue Corps base and at secondary communication bases, though only very few people were at the main Blue Corps base; it was too much out-in-the-open, and too much of an obvious target. Ophiel was ready in Benevolence Itself to do rapid portals around the world, if needed, and Kiri was ready with the same. Teressa and Aisha were inside Benevolence Itself, looking at the Sky, prognosticating. Dariok was there with Teressa.

Teressa gripped Dariok’s hand in her own, and they watched the Benevolent Sky together.

Yggdrasil and the gods were down there, wherever they were.

Waiting.

Erick was the spear.

Darkness swirled around Erick—

… And he felt the weight of a world, or rather, ten million worlds, mark him with an indelible future.

… He checked his Status, and yup.

There was a major change.

Erick Flatt, [60-ish] [Current Year: 1453 (Veird, layer 789), [CURRENT REALITY=Layer 789, Veird]

Mana split; Soul, Body, Mind: 31%, 30%, 30%

Reson allocation rate: 9%

Soul: 913.71m per day / 10,575.34 per second , [Darkness Level = 62.3x Ascension baseline]

Body: 1453

Mind: 1971

Overall Stability: ↑↑ [+9,624.08, -9] Basic upkeep

Mp: 2.9t/∞, ↑ [+3,278.25, -3] Basic upkeep

Hp: 2.8t/∞, ↑ [+3,172.6, -3] Basic upkeep

Pp: 2.9t/∞, ↑ [+3,172.6, -3] Basic upkeep

Resons: 1.9t [+951.78 = +105.75]

He had bounced up to 62.3x Ascension Baseline.

That was double what it had been a week ago.

“… I think those people down there on Fenrir are worshiping me, too.” Erick frowned. “Well that’s weird.”

Yggdrasil whispered in his ears, “That is correct. I’m still siphoning your divinity due to our Pact, but everything else is still yours. This does confirm the main thrust of Nothanganathor’s lateral attack. No one else is being affected by it, because we accounted for it, but you are outside of the Script, and so you are affected, somewhat. Know now that there are probably versions of Veird’s gods down there, but they are Fractal versions. They are who their believers believe them to be, and nothing else. They have no Mantle of the Dark to make them more than ghosts of collective imagination.”

“Ghosts, eh?” Erick chuckled darkly. “I can already see myself venturing down there to kill those god ghosts, looking like Melemizargo the whole time, trying to ‘kill the gods’ like what people thought he was trying to do for the longest time. How’s that for Fate working reality over.” He sighed as he stared at Fenrir’s surface, saying, “Jane is supposed to be the one fighting the gods.”

… Oh shit, she probably heard that.

She was probably dying of embarrassment right now.

“Time is an ouroboros, father,” Yggdrasil said, saving Erick from his own words. “If you live long enough, you will see patterns repeat in everything. Thus is the nature of this Fractal Universe, and Life Itself. Children grow and live lives the same as their parents, or perhaps circumstances skip generations, or around, and then they have children of their own that go out and live lives that the parents prepare them for, but that they can’t really prepare them for because life, no matter how much it looks the same as what came before, is not really the same at all.” He added, “But if you live truly long enough, then you can see the real patterns emerge, and know that yes, time is an ouroboros.”

Erick smiled at that. “And so is [Renew].”

Erick expected Yggdrasil to say something more.

But then reality clicked.

Erick wasn’t sure how he knew what he knew, but he knew that Fenrir had finally time-locked with Veird.

And then Oozy Stormcaller stood twenty kilometers outside of the Edge of Veird.

Erick had no reaction except to simmer with rage.

Oozy wore red robes that held like ribbons upon his body, flowing down and billowing, almost like seaweed in an ocean, or mermaid hair. He raised his hands left and right, and called out,

“Did you have fun?

“Did you prepare enough?

“Was the reprieve enough for you to come to some correct decisions?

“Or are other measures necessary?”

Erick responded with a sky full of [Luminous Beam]s that started off as normal lines of light that then turned absolutely apocalyptic right past the Edge of the Script, where quasar-like particle streams touched the scant little atmosphere that existed out there. Oozy was atomized under so much nuclear fire.

When the space beyond the Edge cleared of explosions, the sky remained clear for a full two minutes.

And then Oozy reappeared, flying out from Fenrir at the speed of lightning, which was still sort of slow at these sorts of distances. It was fast enough. Oozy hung in the air, his ribbon-like robes turned into a cape, revealing red plate armor, with his helmet hanging off of his belt and his red hair waving in a nonexistent breeze.

He said, “We magnanimously give you a week to make a better decision, and then we kill you all.” He put on his helmet, his eyes flickering with Red lightning beyond the black eyeslits in that red metal. “Make bad decisions, please. I always wanted to kill everyone I ever knew.”

And then he vanished.