With a dark mood, Gaius and Isabelle sped into the Wildlands. Dragged along with them was a gloomy eyeball, who was busy questioning its own reason for existence. The small question-and-answer segment earlier had yielded information that was slightly less useful than the colour of grass.

It didn’t know what it was. Fortunately, the eyeball at least knew that it came from the Crying Abyss, and its purpose was to act as a spiritual guide for Gaius. To guide him in matters related to governing the Abyss and being the Abyss Sovereign.

Unfortunately for the eyeball, Gaius already had a mentor in the form of Weiwu, whose existence was apparently unaccounted for by the little fellow.

Distraught by that fact, the squishy little thing began to question its purpose, since it was effectively redundant. It would have been fine and dandy if it were questioning its own existence in silence, but apparently eyeballs had the ability to vocalise thoughts, despite having no such organ.

“Should I just end my squishy existence?” the eyeball wondered out loud for the third time, and a vein in Isabelle’s temple throbbed.

“Gaius?” Isabelle asked.

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.” Gaius rubbed his head. He had thoughtfully conjured up some earbuds for Isabelle and himself five minutes into the eyeball’s grouching, but for some reason, they just couldn’t block out the eyeball’s moaning. It reminded him of one of the more ridiculous Abilities he used to have — Background Music — except that what they were hearing now was just plain unpleasant.

The two drew to a stop.

“Excuse me,” said Isabelle, “but I believe you’ve been moaning long enough.”

The eyeball froze. “Wait, you can hear me?”

“And what made you think that we couldn’t?” Isabelle grabbed the small thread that bound the eyeball and yanked the eerie little thing over. “You’ve been wondering about killing yourself for the past five minutes! Can’t you at least say something nicer?”

“But you two weren’t responding to me!” the eyeball protested. “If you told me, I would have shut up or something!”

“Alright, alright.” Gaius rubbed his head. In a sense, the little eyeball made a great point. Just that…was it really unaware that the two of them could hear it complaining? “Just keep your thoughts to yourself, like normal people—”

“I am a floating eyeball that’s supposed to guide you. In what way does that remotely sound normal? I’m a monster, aren’t I? I don’t think floating eyeballs that can talk exist here, so why am I in this state? And why do you two expect me to behave like a normal person?” the eyeball asked calmly. “I’m not normal, so what standard are you holding me to?”

Gaius opened his mouth and tried to come up with a counterargument. He glanced at Isabelle, who was equally flummoxed, and then raised his hands in submission. “Fine. We apologise. But…you’re really affecting us, yeah?”

“Well, I don’t have a purpose right now,” said the eyeball. “You can’t fault me for that.”

“In that case, why don’t we give you a purpose then?” Isabelle asked. “You said something about being a spiritual guide, right? Why don’t you offer counsel to Gaius and me? We’re quite troubled right now.”

“Regarding the whole war and whatnot, right?” the eyeball spun in mid-air. “Don’t look at me like that; I also heard the conversation that was going on inside that room.”

It was a bit odd to ask a floating eyeball for advice, but it wasn’t like the little fellow charged a fee for consultations. Placing aside his feelings of amusement, Gaius asked, “What do you think is the main cause behind all this?”

“You assume there’s only one main cause, but things are rarely this convenient, aren’t they?” the eyeball asked back. “But if you really want to ask me about the overarching cause…I’ll say that it’s mortal nature.”

“Mortal nature?”

“The nature of mortality is transience, which in turn gives all life immense value,” said the eyeball. “It stands to reason that people would value their lives, right? It is this transience that makes them fearful.”

“What are you trying to get at?” Gaius asked, curious. “People fear death. I can’t do anything about it, right?”

“Allow me to point you in one direction, then. This invasion of what you call the Wildlands by your fellows…why do the common soldiers participate in it?” the eyeball asked. “What compels them to march across this bridge into a foreign land, despite their fear of death? And what force is behind such a compulsion?”

“The common soldiers?” Isabelle asked.

“Yes,” the eyeball replied. “And by extension, the commonfolk of the Five Lands. What enforces the wartime sacrifices that they’re making? And how is this enforcement made possible?”

“Enforcement?”

The eyeball chuckled. “Ah. It feels good to actually carry out my purpose…is this what it means to feel self-satisfied?”

“P-probably, I guess.” Gaius rubbed his nose. “At any rate, thank you for giving us a pointer. You sure bring up some deep stuff.”

Isabelle nodded. For some reason, he felt that Isabelle was indeed beginning to understand what the eyeball meant, so Gaius made a mental note to ask her about it when they were alone later.

Speaking of being alone…

“Right,” said Gaius. “I just remembered. You didn’t happen to be peeking on us when we were alone, did you?”

“Of course not. How could I, the most elegant eyeball of the ages, stoop down to voyeurism? In fact, whenever you two were having fun in your room, I made sure to shut out every single sense I had. Be grateful.” The eyeball made a little snort, a snort that made Gaius feel guilty for casting aspersions on it.

“Oh.” Gaius’ flight path wobbled. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.”

Isabelle still had a suspicious look on her face, but Gaius didn’t press the topic. He was reasonably certain that the little guy was telling the truth…or rather, the little guy was usually busy sleeping or something most of the time. Now that he’d dragged the eyeball out, however…

Maybe it could make friends with Nexus and the other intelligent artefacts?

It would be a fine sight to see.

“Right, what should we call you?” Isabelle asked. “Referring to you as ‘the eyeball’ can be rather trying at times.”

“My name?” The eyeball bobbed up and down. “Oh, I get a choice, huh. Well then, call me Oculus. A stylish name for a stylish eye.”

“Stylish…”

Putting that thought out of his mind, the two entered the Wildlands proper, where all kinds of battles and schemes were already playing out. As for Oculus, after parading that name around for a few more times, it zipped into one of his many pockets and fell asleep.

How carefree…