The Crimson Prophet. Judge was not surprised to hear that title in a breathless voice. In this world where monsters only glowed gray, The Crimson Prophet was a name that was destined to arise. Destined since fifteen years ago. He could hear the echo of Savior’s voice—the promise of a dying man. The future will be better. And he wondered, for whom? For the kids? Abigail would have been five at the time, with Knight right on her heels. Raven and Hunter were two years younger. The past just took their future away. So who was it better for? Savior wasn't the type to mean himself but wasn't the type who’d boldly tell a lie. Judge wondered. Did Savior think this monster could somehow save them all?

“Those kids you killed.” Savior hadn't lied, but this man was not him. The real Savior was a superhero. Judge was known for mowing Grays down, but this was the man who lived to save lives. When he went out, survivors always came back. It was like he was drawn to them; like he could hear their cries of anguish. “Those kids would have made you proud if you were alive.” Because the Crimson Prophet wasn’t. “Was this everything you stood for?”

“Shame.” The Crimson looked around. “They were in the way and now... they’re in pieces.”

“You talk about me drifting, but you’re the furthest from yourself.”

“No, Slasher. I am exactly where I have always been.”

Judge laughed, shaking his head. “Savior. Prophet. You’re nothing but corrosion."

The Crimson vibrated. “Corrosion,” It tasted the word. “Yes, you may call me that.” It wrote it to every part of its core. “Let us corrode the old world, Slasher.”

“Yeah. Let’s hack it to pieces.”

Corrosion flew forward, rising to fill the air. As its sword cut down, Judge caught it with a swing, burying the creature in the stone. A liquid Luminance blocked his second chop. It swirled into spears stabbing at him; Corrosion rising from the ground. It charged again and Judge swung for its head. Its blade glowed—slicing through his, cutting through his head as well. The green light peeled back to dark skin and quickly returned to place. A red line now marred his face, sending Corrosion into a frenzy. Chest. Arm. Neck. Stomach. The sword sliced through part after part. Judge stayed strong, even as they stained him red, raising his hands above his head.

"Auxiliary weapon." A large club popped into place. It crashed through Corrosion's sword, forcing the monster to bow.

He swung up, smashing its chin. And swung around into the side of its head. Bear paw swings swatted its body around. It didn't feel right though. It didn’t feel like he was hitting hard enough. Putting his weight into the next, he swung for Corrosion’s center mass. A crimson arm came up, and the club shattered against it. Judge dropped the broken weapon, bringing up closed fists. He threw one so hard he knocked color from Corrosion’s face. Another swing sent red flying from the other side. He kept on the head until all the color faded, burying his blows in the body next. His fist came back arcing with electricity. It crackled in his veins, making the refraction lines stand like spikes. He could swing destruction, and the Crimson Prophet would not survive. He went for the head.

The chunks of the guard station blew away as his fist passed over Corrosion's shoulder. The other one flew, and the broken sign burst into dust. Judge looked at his hands. The red, liquid Luminance spread to them from his chest—infection moving for all the stains. The color returned to Corrosion's body. It looked him in the eyes, shaking its head.

“You’re still human, Slasher.” It said it like a teacher to an underwhelming student. “Humanity holds you back.” Its hand broke through his chest, grabbing the heart. “Let me set you free.” It ripped it out, pushing Judge back as the color faded from him.

As it looked at the heart contently, Corrosion seemed to be pulled into it. Something filled the wicked corridors of its mind, moving so loudly Judge could hear it with dying ears. This was more important than those kids, and Corrosion would leave them until this matter was done. That was barely a victory, but Judge was fine with it. Even though life gushed out with every drop of blood, at least he could say he got the kids to the destination... no matter what...

♦

Beyond the dark glass wall of the building, the Numbers couldn't even hear Judge's battle. They felt like they were watching Raven fight again, but they couldn't see the fight either—could only dream of it. They tried to dream of Judge's victory. They tried to dream of him coming to the wall, saying the fight was done. They tried to dream that at least the five of them would return home, but each dream died at the touch of crimson light. Fang looked at Assassin as he stared tight-lipped at the wall.

“Can Judge survive?” It felt colder on her lips than it did in her head; frost-bitten, and freezing still.

“I don’t think so.” He couldn’t think of how to dress those words. The truth was ugly and naked. “Judge is strong. I know he’s stronger than I can imagine, but I don’t have to imagine with that red thing. I can feel it.”

And Fang could too, even if she didn’t want to admit it. If there was any chance otherwise, she might have ignored Judge and stayed to help. But Assassin confirmed her belief. They had to leave Judge behind. She turned to Ace and King with an apology in her eyes. They accepted it, and absolved her, saying with their own that there was no contingency for this fight. She could have spent five years alone and planning, and could never foresee such disaster.

“There was a point to coming here, right?” Ace asked.

Fang took a look around. Dark glass covered walls, and furniture, turning them into large misshapen stones. Despite the size of the building, they were in a closed-off room. Without explosives, she didn't know how to go further. It was only by the light of a lamp in the center of the room that they didn’t need visors to see. Off to the left behind it, words sat embossed on the wall. "New Dawn Laboratory." The name was vaguely familiar. She remembered it from the Technical courses and turned to King.

“Could this be the place our gear came from?”

He looked from her to the wall. “Yeah, it is. But didn’t we learn the manufacturer was lost early on?”

Fang looked at the wall, then the lamp. Could it work if there was no one in this place? She gave its glowing fixture a closer examination. There was no light bulb inside. As she reached to check it for heat, her weapon band parted into hexagonal pieces. Drawing back returned it to normal, and she turned to see if the others saw. Their eyes were wide, and all of them turned to King.

“How did you know to do the Luminance Arm thing?” Ace asked.

“When I amplified my Luminance I was paying attention to the band. They always taught us the amplification starts in the chest, but I thought about how the red one took Raven’s band. If it just needed the centerpiece, why take it, right?”

Assassin nodded. “Right. And what are we making our weapons out of?”

“Exactly. So I toyed with it a bit. We only got to work on prototypes at the Enclave, but real ones are…smarter. We can Amplify and Condense. What do they call it when we draw our weapons?"

“Luminance Forge.” Assassin turned to him fully. The others followed.

“Exactly. Our weapons aren’t made of metal. They’re made of our Luminance.”

Ace looked at his band. “I get it then. We armed our weapons like arming a bomb.”

Fang clutched her fist. “If we knew that coming out here, we could all be alive.” Assassin placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, breathed, and looked back to King. “What do you think about this? Your technical score was the highest.”

King looked at his band, then the halo left as a reward. He moved his fingers around the rigid structure, tracing the sunburst spikes. He touched his band next and seemed to conclude. "I feel like these two things are similar tech. The bands interact with our Luminance, while the Crown provides connection to anothers. That's why those guys turned into monsters, and got worse when the red one appeared."

“That leaves one question then.” Fang looked back to the lamp. “What exactly is a Luminance?”

King followed her eyes. "Maybe we can find out." He reached for the lamp, watching his band come apart like hers. "Luminance Amplify." His blue flare flowed out, dying the lamp's light.

Breaking free of the fixture, it floated out before them. It twitched and jerked around, growing bigger as limbs stretched from it. It filled the space with a spectral body, standing as tall as Ace and King. Slowly, details took shape, completing the image of a middle-aged man. An empty spot marred the specter’s pale chest but proved no bother as it spoke.

“Hello. Welcome to what remains of New Dawn Laboratory. My name is Dr. Naveen Gupta. I was hoping for a number great than four, but anything is better than zero.”

“What exactly is New Dawn Laboratory? And what are you?” King replied.

“Order of scale—I am a ghost, nothing than the undead memory of a man. New Dawn Laboratory is a research and development operation, established to prepare humanity for the arrival of The God Eternal."

“The what?” Ace glowered.

"Good. You don't know. That means I have a lot to explain, but it also means things are going according to plan. Before I start, do you have any questions?"

Fang stepped up. “Will anything you say help us save New York?”

“New York?” Gupta looked at her. “There is more at stake than just one city. What you’ll find here will help you save all of mankind.”

Her face tightened, as did the boys’. Gupta went silent, letting them meet the weight of his words. In life, he considered what this moment would be like. He knew the people in front of him would be young; no one from his New York could do it. At the base of his lamp, he saw the number seven. Seven years had passed since he died. That made twenty-two years of the Overcast. Fifteen years since the Advent Ascension. Seven years since New Dawn failed to find a better option. All of them would have been too small when he was alive. If he could breathe, he might have sighed. The world was already too heavy in their hands, and he hadn’t even put everything upon it.

“You can go on.” Fang replied. The doctor nodded.

“To start we have to go back a long time in the history of Earth. For a short period, after the first supercontinent was formed, Earth was home to Colossal life. Primitive and primordial creatures walked upon the land, born simply of the power of Earth's growth. These entities were a lot like us, growing, expanding, fighting wars over resources. The changing world spread sickness to them though, and their kind began to die. That was until one tribe came to the aid of others. They had the Knowledge of Medicine and shared it among varying people. Their anatomies weren't just similar, they were the same and this small kindness of sharing knowledge changed the history of their kind. They built the First Society, pooling their knowledge together. They learned the Earth would still change, and decided they would use not the planet, but the Radiance of it to survive. They built the Dominion at Dawn, leaving behind nothing but their Luster—the undead memory of their existence.

After a violent and chaotic time, the seeds of the Second Society flourished. When their species became smart enough to wonder what the Luster was, they came in contact with the First Society. They were taught to gather their tribes and learn the world together. By this means they could make their own, and flourish as long as there was still an Earth. With their knowledge, they made the Twilight Grove. And once again the Earth became silent. The dinosaurs rose and fell. The world was covered in ice. In that time, the seed of the Third Society flourished, and like the Second before it, the Third Society wondered what the Luster was. The First communicated with them, but by that time, the idea of gathering the Tribes was monumental. Lands were separated by great bodies of water, and the Third Society grew, always certain they were smaller than they were."

“What does this have to do with that eternal god thing?”

“As matters have it. I was just getting to that. The disconnected Third Society always reached a stagnation point. Without new knowledge, they began to covet the realm in the Luster, worshiping the beings on the other side in hopes they’d gain entrance. They named these far away creatures, Gods, and did heinous things in reverence. It is hard to say where it started, but the first sacrifice was made, forever changing Luster. It was corrupted, losing connection with the Gods. As each new sacrifice tainted it, the Luster could only trust the Third society to remember what it was. It grew, becoming Malignant Gods. Made virulent by countless souls, and fueled by the Third’s self-loathing, The Malignant Gods were living extinction, wiping out entire communities in their desperate glut for purpose. It was only by the hands of the Second Society that they were ever slain, and as stories of them moved through the still plentiful Luster, these slayers of Gods became known as Devils.”

"Is the Third Society humanity?" Assassin interrupted. Gupta nodded and watched the Numbers gulp.

“How long has our species been around?” Fang asked.

“Our greatest estimate is about two million years.”

“How long have we made Malignant Gods?”

“How many dead and fallen villages has the world ever known?”

“You said The God Eternal...what changed?”

“Eventually, our kind realized that the world was bigger. They moved around it, and civilizations grew. We began to understand the Luster more, meeting and birthing people who could know it. The Third Society grew but began to stagnate once more. They would always stagnate, refusing to move beyond the idea of ‘the tribe’. With each stagnation, more Malignant Gods were born, and civilizations died as the price. This kept going for so long, that we started remembering their shapes and called these things, Demons. Each time the Devils would come, purging what stood in the ashes. We made art depicting this. With written language came History, and these Gods were never entirely forgotten. Some of our kind began to form healthy ideas of what they were. As New Dawn knows it now, one Luster was often attended to by a court of the First. They were like schools, teaching humanity everything they could. Our species would call these Pantheons, and we learned. People were born among us who could refine communication; becoming disciples, but could not stop stagnation alone. What happens when a disciple isn't born in your village? Your town? Your city? Your nation? You think you've been abandoned, and believe anyone who claims they still hear the voice.

“New disciples were still born, but so too was Religion, and Scripture to make rules. You could lead whole nations with the lies of a False Prophet, and the False Prophets were aware of that. They built systems to silence truth. They made strange new knowledge a fiendish thing, telling people not to know it. They went to where people made strange new things, taking their knowledge and lives. They stole Pantheon after Pantheon, until Luster was no more than Color to the Third Society. And then finally, They said there is only one Luster; one Color, and told everyone to worship it.”

“How many…” King gulped. “How many souls would that have been?”

“Millions. Millions of people dying in the name of one lie made true. The God Eternal was born when a seed of Luster unseen by the Third Society grew fat on their sacrifice. A God born of our contempt manifested, setting out to do what all humanity secretly fears and desires—wipe the other tribes out. It destroyed Luster in other places, as we taught it. It made Angels of its loyal people, same as we raised those loyal to us. It sought our annihilation, and the destruction of the world. It was so powerful, the First Society had to intervene. They taught survivors Luminance—the Luster of the human soul, and the Bearers of Light joined the Devils in the war of Heaven and Hell.”

“That’s sounds devastating.”

"It was. Many Devils fell. Light Bearers were cast down. It threatened our ability to live on this world, but eventually, the war ended. The world could heal. But, the still-living humanity did not stop bearing false witness. Many people claimed they could hear the voice of the Eternal God. It would be Eternal so long as the claim was made. Stagnation came again, and therein, repetition was born. The fear of that war was enough to terrify a large part of humanity, and that part grew and grew. The First Society saw this and knew The Eternal God would one day rise again. They tried a new means of correcting our course. A child of the First was born of a Third Woman, with hopes that he could save mankind. The False Prophets did what you might expect. They killed this son of gods and claimed he was meant to die for us.

"The First Society was heartbroken by this betrayal, and slammed shut the gates of the Dominion at Dawn, refusing to teach humanity anymore. The Devils were long considered enemies, so they could not save us either. The worst part, which may sound strange considering all I have said, is that the False Prophets told their most destructive falsehood. They told us The Eternal God was the Last True God. They told us that every God was just the many faces of one. If I asked you what your favorite color was, what would you say?”

The Numbers shook their heads.

“Mine was Yellow. A lot of people could say the same, a lot might not. Regardless, it was my favorite color, and that meant I could almost feel the touch of a Yellow Luster, drifting to become one with an Amalgamated God. For thousands of years this Amalgamated monstrosity grew, feeding on Luster and the souls that made them fat. It became a burning lustrous mass, and we heard its heartbeat. Everyone who swore their soul to this nameless god felt its touch crash through them, and had their Luminance ripped away instead.”

Fang’s eyes widened. Was that the answer to her question on the horizon? “If Luster is the memory of the First Society's Existence, then Luminance is what? The memory of our own existence?"

“Yes. Losing your Luminance means you lose the memory of your existence. Your soul loses the memory, and the process is so violent that the soul ruptures, and you feel it happen.”

“Every last Gray is the remains of a living sacrifice?”

“Gray? Is that what the Enclave is calling them? New Dawn called them the Baleful—the miserable haunted vessels.”

The Numbers thought about the horde of Grays they fought. How many had that been? How many people fed the Eternal God on the day of its resurgence? How many people were in New York? All of Judge's stories caught ablaze in their mind. New York was the place to be? How many millions birthed the beast of humanity's destruction?

“How are we even still alive?” Ace clenched his teeth.

“Because New Dawn did what it could. We summoned a Spear of Hell, casting New York into the borders of the Twilight Grove as we pierced the mass. We only wounded it though, and the spear was breaking even while I was alive. When it finally falls, the Eternal God will return. Do you understand what’s at stake?” He watched them slowly nod. “Then I ask, are you ready to Kill the Eternal God...?”