Why does this always happen? Why does everyone always sacrifice the few to save the many, over and over again? It always ends the same way, with the exact same ultimatum: sacrifice the few to save the many. Only the next time, there are fewer left to save. And as always, I’m stuck as one of the ‘many’, forced to mourn the few who were sacrificed for the so-called ‘greater good’.

Only now, the few outnumber the many. How many trillions or more have already died, or are still going to? And more importantly, how many can I even hope to save?

There had to have been a better way… But it’s too late now. They’re already gone.

“As you said, all we can do now is make sure their deaths were not in vain.” I affirmed. “I’ll help you, but I do have one condition.”

“What condition?”

“No more sacrifices. No more needless deaths. We have to save what we can, but I can’t let that mean more losses. I know we can’t save every person, but we have to at least prevent the extinction of the sapient races. Not just your people, not just mine, but as many as we can. When I leave Elos, we’re going to find every last species, visit every last habited planet, and shelter them here.”

“That would be… difficult. There are trillions of habited planets, and they are all lightyears apart. Even if we had a full millennium to work on this until the end of the cataclysm, we would still have to portal across the universe and visit millions of planets every day. Then, we would need to collect not only a minimum of two people, but also design and create a compatible ecosystem for all of them.

Not to mention the fact that there are limits to how many we can save whilst protecting this place from the black sun. We could handle about one billion people in this space at the very most. A fraction of a percent of what that would require.

Even if we could still leave this subspace, it would still be impossible for us to achieve that with our numbers. Perhaps if my race still numbered in the millions or more it would be possible, but that is no longer the case. And for you alone to do it, the amount of power that would require is far more than you could reasonably gain before the black sun fully awakens. Such power would be going far beyond S rank. Far beyond the scope of what this project could reasonably achieve. I don’t even think such power is allowed within the system of magic.”

“Even so, I must try.”

“… If that is what you desire, then so be it. You won’t be able to save most, but you should at least be able to save a few. Though, before you can get started or even leave the solar system, there will be much for you to do, and so much more to learn.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have you all to teach me.”

“We can assist you with your acquisition of knowledge, if that is what you desire. Though we should warn you that the knowledge gained through the hivemind is typically limited when not actively part of the hivemind. Thus, there would be little difference between us and other teachers with regard to most magic. We’ll still teach you alchemy and what knowledge is necessary to use your own powers, but due to our limited numbers and time, it would be better for you to gather other teachers until you exhaust the knowledge your species has.”

Hopefully my normal teachers don’t have much to say about the fact that I skipped out on classes after the first week. It was necessary, but I doubt Draxus would see it that way… “I can take some classes at Aurelia academy, but what do you mean by ‘exhaust the knowledge my species has’? That may be little to you, but that’s an insurmountable amount of knowledge for me to learn, even if I had years.”

“Even so, you must try.” The ancient deadpanned.

“Hardy har har.” I sighed. That really wasn’t a helpful answer, but I suppose we’ll have to burn that bridge when we come to it. “Okay, that’s enough planning for the future for one day. Back to current events. You want me to rank up now? Won’t that make it difficult to find and meet Sozdatel, since I’ll be put out of commission for a week?”

“We can hold off your rank-up fatigue for the first day, so it shouldn’t be an issue. You can reach Sozdatel’s abode before then, given your distance to it now.”

“How do you know where we are currently? Isn’t this space supposed to be cut off from the outside world?”

“We can still know and do a great many things, even from inside this space.”

“Like what?”

“A great many things.” They answered cryptically. Why bother being so cryptic at this point? What are they hiding from me?

They can still figure out where I am, even from inside this subspace, so they must have some ability to still interact with the outside world. Is it just knowledge, or can they actually interact with the outside world?

Back when I was knocked out, and they entered the subspace, they basically cut out a cube from the labyrinth and put it and themselves into my subspace. But they said they couldn’t leave, which suggests they don’t have the ability to enter either. In that case, how can they interact with the outside world, and how did they initially enter?

They seem to have some control over this space, mainly through their superior knowledge of magic, alchemy, and this place’s design. But by their own admission, they don’t have as much control as me. Thus, they must have forced me to pull them in via a mind spell. But if it were just mind control they did when I was unconscious, then how can they still interact with the outside world?

The only explanation is that they still have some influence over me. But how much? Are they reading my mind, or are they subtly influencing my actions?

“We have no need to go that far.” The Ancient commented.

I quickly raised a mind barrier in an attempt to block off their mind-reading. So they can read my mind!

“As we still can.” It said as I went wide-eyed. “Please, such a crude mind-barrier has no effect. Even if you could construct an effective mind-barrier, you would do well to remember who’s form you’re in, and what’s on it.”

I looked down, and facepalmed. Of course they can read my mind without even meaning to. I’m literally wearing their skin, with an active mind-link array on it.

“Yes, yes you are. We didn’t mean to intrude, but it happens automatically when in that form. ”

“But the dwarves don’t read each other’s minds when not intending to, or so I’m told.”

“That is by their own design. They are mostly human, after all. They don’t have quite the same views on privacy that we do.”

That makes sense, I suppose. Still, I get the feeling they’re hiding something from me. But I should change forms before thinking about it.

“If you still don’t fully trust us, that is your prerogative. But first, don’t bother changing yet. You’ll need to retain that body during the rank-up process.” The ancient said, before casting a spell in the amalgamation’s direction.

The ball of flesh slowed its rotation while it descended within an arm’s reach of us. When it came to a stop, there was a particularly concentrated number of semi-conscious humanoids facing me. Their screams reminded me of the attack on Norbury Village, and I nearly had a panic attack, even without the voice’s influence.

The ancient cast a new spell, and the alchemical arrays carved onto the surface of it began bleeding profusely. Upon closer inspection, the mana leaking out of the array was not entirely blood. It altered color from deep red to every color within the visible light spectrum. In addition, there were distinct traces of space, flesh, wood, sound, and every mana type I had ever experienced detecting within the blood.

The blood coalesced into the carved out eyes of the closest person — screaming louder than any other — with short green hair, and partially wooden appendages…

Me. I’m looking at me.