Old Owl breathed in the air of the underworld.

It was only fitting that the end of all this should begin here, among the filth and darkness that lurked beneath Coren. Illuminated only by lanterns, Old Owl's squad grimly made their way through the pitch-black cavern.

The foundation of the city was the great craft -- the 'starship' as it was called. From what Old Owl understood, it had landed on a great indentation in the world when it had first arrived. This space, then, was the colossal gap between the bottom of the starship and the bottom of the indentation.

He glanced fruitlessly upwards at the darkness. If he had eyes more suited to this shade, would he see metal above? Or was the craft better disguised than that?

Once they were all gathered, they would begin their attack -- the Grinhe flooding up from beneath the city to seize the most important strategic point. If all went well, they could strike before anyone knew to prepare for them. That had been the plan they'd first decided upon.

Still, he felt uneasy.

All but Young Grena's group had already arrived, and she was far overdue. Had something happened? He knew she had been transporting a captive Regulator, but he had been securely restrained.

He cast such uncertainty from his mind: he had no use for it. If Grena was not here, they would simply act without her. The Grinhe were a great tree -- they could not shed tears over every missing branch.

Some final courage was needed before they began. Old Owl fished the hologram projector out of his pocket, clicking the button on it and turning it on.

Immediately, a wavering figure appeared before the gathered Grinhe -- and the mutterings and mumbling among them transformed instantly into respectful silence. Their group had no manifesto, but this projection served as sufficient motivation.

The man who spoke of XK-12 looked the same as ever -- long pale hair and extraordinarily bright blue eyes, with a sternness to him that suggested great discipline. A soldier, perhaps, or at the very least someone who had seen war.

He spoke: "This is █ervitor Enden Los. All that follows i█ the truth. I leave these records if they should be needed in the ██ture."

And with that, he blinked away. It was a simple message: merely a prologue to provide context to the hours of footage that followed. Details of the planet's ecology, the first arrival there, the purpose of the Guardian Entities -- with hints of the horrific war that had driven this man and his followers to settle upon XK-12. Sometimes, there were mentions of a superior, some being greater than them -- Ilancueitl -- and every time, these mentions were laced with reverence and mourning both.

Old Owl could not understand all of what these messages said, but that didn't matter. They were proof. Proof that the truth existed.

It was the first thread they would pull.

The hologram faded away, and Old Owl delicately returned the projector to his robes. He vaguely wondered if he'd ever look at it again. After all, in a few minutes time, the end would begin.

Aka Manto lifted its hands away from its face, the last remnants of its shattered mask slipping between it's fingers.

"How dare you…" the man seethed, Aether crackling furiously around him. "How dare you…"

His hateful gaze was fixed on Dragan. Two pairs of bright blue eyes glared at each other.

"Huh," muttered Dragan, staring at his opponent. "I was expecting you'd have a couple more eyes than that. Maybe scales or something. Guess not."

The man floating before Dragan and Bruno was human, that much was obvious, and a Cogitant at that. Sapphire-blue eyes narrowed as Aka Manto pulled itself free from the wreckage of the elevator wall, long grey hair falling down over his shoulders. The man pointed a long, trembling finger at Dragan.

"You'll pay for that," he hissed.

Looking at him, Dragan couldn't exactly tell whether the man was young or old. Despite the wrinkles that covered his face, and the lifeless hair that hung like hay from his head, there was a bright and clear quality to his eyes that made Dragan think of a younger man. It was as if time had managed to strike him in some places, while moving neutrally over others.

"I see," Dragan said, adjusting his stance slightly. "Makes sense that a human being could be recorded as a Guardian Entity if an animal can. What were you, then? A crash test dummy?"

"You'll pay for that…" Aka Manto repeated -- before slowly retracting his accusatory finger. "But I am not unreasonable. I must admit that I feel something akin to gratitude right now. You've done me a service."

Bruno narrowed his eyes, slowly getting back up to his feet. "How's that?"

The man picked up a shard of broken ceramic between two of his fingers, turning it over in the light. "I won't deny that I am unlike other Guardian Entities," he said softly. "However, this mask served the purpose of locking me into certain… patterns of behaviour. Now that it's no longer a factor, I'm certain we can resolve this conflict in another way entirely."

Invisibly, Dragan primed another Gemini Shotgun -- ready to fire at the other Cogitants head given half a reason. "Oh?" he said. "What if I told you I thought you were full of shit?"

Aka Manto smiled genially, dropping the shard. "That's rather unkind of you, Dragon Hadrien. We've operated as enemies thus far, but that's no reason for rudeness."

"Dragan," Dragan snapped, emphasizing the pronunciation. "Dragan Hadrien. And I'd consider trying to strangle me to death to be pretty rude on your part."

"Alas, the mask," Aka Manto gestured to the pile of ceramic on the floor. "But you're absolutely right. I've operated without manners from start to finish. Allow me to begin making up for that."

The Entity bowed theatrically, cloak billowing around it as he floated. "A pleasure to formally meet you, Dragan Hadrien and…"

"Bruno," grunted the man himself.

"...and Bruno." If Aka Manto was thrown off by the obvious hostility, he didn't show it. "My name is Enden Los. I'm sure you've already realized this planet was the retreat of a Gene Noble?"

Dragan didn't answer. He just kept watching Aka Manto -- or Enden Los, apparently -- watching for any sign of deceit or subterfuge. Even with the strange form he'd taken, his body language would betray him all the same.

"I'm certain you have," Los smiled to himself. "You two seem intelligent young men. I'm perfectly willing to spare your lives, and arrange your escape from this planet, should you cooperate with me on a simple matter."

"And what matter is that?" Dragan asked. He glanced down at Bruno -- no, at Serena.

The colour of their body's Aether had shifted slightly to violet to reflect the new dominant personality, and she was tense, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Los certainly noticed that as well -- he had the same Cogitant senses as Dragan -- but it didn't seem to affect his new genial demeanor. Only as he spoke did the slightest trace of anger infiltrate his expression.

"You're a comrade to Lily Aubrisher, aren't you, Dragan Hadrien?" Los asked, his voice still perfectly calm. "You were together in the swamp, the last time we met."

"The last time we met?" Dragan scoffed. "I remember it a little differently. I'm pretty sure you tried to kill me back then."

"I truly regret that," Los nodded, an expression of anguish twisting their face. "As I said, however, my actions were limited by that mask. I had little choice but to approach under such terms. That's no longer the case, which is why I can now offer you this more personable deal -- should you provide me with Aubrisher's present location, I'll direct you to the escape pods of the starship we just left."

"The escape pods? How generous of you."

Los smiled thinly. "I like to be reasonable when I can. They're still operable, and I'm certain they'll suffice to get you off-planet. From there, it's simply a matter of sending out a distress signal. You can resume your voyage among the stars within a day or so. It's not such a bad deal, really, is it?"

There. Enden Los made a single mistake, a single twitch of the eye incongruous with the rest of his expression. The telltale mark of a liar.

Bruno spoke up through Serena's mouth as he reasserted himself. "What do you want with Lily?"

As ever, he was appreciably blunt. Dragan would happily dance through words all day long, but Bruno would actually ask the question he wanted an answer to.

Los frowned. "Is that relevant?"

Bruno narrowed his eyes. It seemed that was all the answer he needed. Things would erupt into violence once again within the next minute or so.

Before that happened, it was vital that Enden Los' attention was focused on Dragan rather than Bruno and Serena. That way, Serena could leap in and execute a sneak attack while Dragan supported her with his Gemini Shotgun.

He spoke up, cold sweat tickling at the back of his neck. "I think I know exactly what you want with Lily. It's her Guardian Entity, right?"

The effect was immediate. Enden Los' pupils dilated only slightly, but the tension in the hallway increased to such a degree that it felt like they'd be crushed by the gravity.

"I'd watch your next words, kin of the Blindman," Los said slowly. His voice promised murder.

But if there was one thing Dragan Hadrien was good at, it was not watching his next words -- and so he continued.

"Lily was never meant to get Raijū in the first place. She snuck in that room down there --" Dragan jabbed a finger at the elevator. "-- and was given it by mistake. I'm thinking it was just lucky timing."

Enden Los' body language was perfectly neutral, the fact that he had no tells serving as a massive tell itself. If he suddenly wanted to hide his emotions even more, it suggested that Dragan noticing those emotions would be disadvantageous for him.

So he was definitely on the right track.

Dragan went on. "You were already down there, already preparing to give Raijū to someone -- probably yourself -- when Lily came and interrupted. So you're wanting to go grab Lily and force her to return that Guardian Entity. As for why you're so fixated on that specific Entity? Well, I'd bet it's because…"

Los' facade broke, his face warping into a mask of utter rage that resembled the previous ceramic more than anything. "Don't you dare," he hissed.

"...because that Guardian Entity is the corpse of your beloved Gene Tyrant."

Many hundreds of years ago…

The young man's hands desperately clutched the tendril, gripping it so tightly as if that would keep its owner here, would prevent her from crossing to the other side.

The dying god was stuck between half-a-dozen forms -- some parts mammalian, some reptilian, some arboreal and some stranger still. The sparking blue harpoons protruding from its back had prevented her from fully assuming any of the forms she would have needed to win.

"Stay with us, Your Nobility," the young man breathed, kneeling beside his creator. "I'm certain we can treat your injuries -- given only a little more time. I'm sure of it, I am."

The Gene Noble ignored what he said. She knew just as much as he did that any further effort would be pointless. The majority of her body had already become a corpse, after all.

"Los," the divine being mewled through half-a-dozen remnant mouths. "You'll continue my will, won't you? You'll ensure my subjects are safe?"

The young man hurriedly nodded. It mattered not what the request was -- if his creator asked it of him, he would gladly carry it out.

"Of course," he sobbed. "Anything you say. Anything."

"What a dutiful… thing you are…"

The god was fading fast. The young man pressed the limp tendril to his cheek, trying to ignore just how cold it was.

"I can be nothing but," he whispered. "You have created me, given me purpose, fed and clothed me, oh noble one. Who else could you be but my mother? What wretch would I be if I did not obey?"

The Gene Noble had no reply to that, for it had already departed from this world. The young man stayed there for quite a while, frozen in place, huddling close to the corpse until the last traces of life's warmth had gone. Then he stood up.

There was work to be done.

Present Day…

"Shut your damn mouth!" Los screamed, cloak billowing around him as even the windows shook from the volume of his voice.

Dragan gulped. Guess he'd been right on the money there, at least.

The Aether surrounding Enden Los increased in intensity, so much that it was like Dragan and Bruno were looking at a red-and-blue supernova. Whatever this was, Dragan knew it would be beyond anything they'd seen from a Guardian Entity before.

"Serena!" he cried, already firing off his Gemini Shotguns. "Go!"

Serena leapt in, a broadsword of cobblestone already clutched in her hands, but it was too late. The Aether building up around Los consolidated into a single point, deep within its robes, then --

"Open, O Earth."

-- the cloak opened, and hell poured forth.

Garth sighed as he looked over his city. He couldn't waste time in fruitless self-reflection. The events of the next few hours would decide the future -- and he would decide the events of the next few hours. He would protect this view.

He turned from his balcony, taking a deep breath as he prepared himself for the trials to come -- only to stop mid-step.

A set of steel claws were brushing against his throat.

Three people stood before him, in the middle of his office: a glaring Lily Aubrisher, a nervous Good Lady, and a clawed girl with red hair. He recalled her from the memories he'd absorbed -- one of the outsiders.

"Ah," he said lightly, recognising the situation before him. "I see."

At last, everything was going his way.