Bespectacled, distinguished-looking men and women lounged around in Mirai’s upper deck, which was coated with what looked like gold. Silver railings and furniture dotted the place, and as Pauline cleared the approach with Maria and Aziz, the colonel couldn’t help but give the silver furniture a long look.

Eyes turned to their little group as they landed, and Pauline had to spend the next ten or so minutes waving and returning greetings to the luminaries that greeted her. Marie couldn’t recognise half of them, which was the cue for Aziz to make like a wallflower and hang around in the background.

“Wow,” Aziz whispered, “Pauline’s famous.”

“Tell me about it,” Marie replied. “Looks like she’s made lots of new friends. I feel so proud of her.”

Aziz nodded fervently. “That young statesperson we met at Camp Napoleon has grown up. I really feel like crying now.”

The two looked at each other and sniggered, before Aziz decided to check out the luxurious furniture that lined the upper deck. Regretfully, the chairs and tables were nailed down to the floor, which — given some of his wild thoughts — was probably a very good idea.

Plopping down on the nice chairs provided, the two of them looked up at the crimson sky. Aziz couldn’t relax, not with the unnaturally optimistic atmosphere that pervaded the Mirai. The overly loud laughter, the exaggerated recounts of battles…all these were clearly just facades to hide everyone’s terror at the events that had transpired.

No one was blind, after all.

Everyone knew that the Abyss Sovereign had clashed with the great gods of Orb, and came out on top handily. The gigantic form of Liamar, which had inspired both confidence and awe in Aziz when he first saw him, had been thoroughly destroyed, with the Worldshaper’s fate unknown to all.

It didn’t just end there either. The chilling speck of darkness that was the Abyss Sovereign had somehow reached new heights in the aftermath of the battle.

Aziz rested his forehead onto the cool, smooth table in front of him, unsure of what to think. The events of today had changed Orb forever, but he couldn’t quite buy into the Abyss Sovereign’s proclamation. It was too idealistic, too impossible.

A boundless world where all needs were met? Aziz, who had seen a vision of what the Abyss Sovereign meant when those words were uttered, couldn’t believe them. After all, it was essentially a claim that basic needs like food would be met. Furthermore, the vision he saw also claimed that issues that plagued the nations of Orb like limited land and resources would be completely solved, by making it such that this new world, Celestia, would extend forever.

It was too ridiculous a claim, no matter what.

“Aziz?” Marie called out.

“Yes?” The colonel looked up. “Need something?”

“Just your thoughts, really. What do you think of this utopia the Abyss Sovereign is making?” Marie asked. “You’ve seen the visions too, right?”

Aziz nodded. “Yes. I’ve seen them too.”

“What do you think about all these visions? Are these claims true?”

The colonel closed his eyes for a moment. “First, I cannot bring myself to believe in those claims. The Abyss Sovereign paints a lovely world, but a world without limits is impossible. Even if it is, it can only be limitless for a short time.”

“Is that so?” Marie tapped the table. “But given the scope of the Abyss Sovereign’s might, is it really impossible? What we think as impossible might not be to the great gods, right?”

“What are you driving at?”

“Nothing in particular,” Marie replied. “But if it’s really such a world…why wouldn’t people want in on it? Look at the sky. Even now, despite Hereward’s warning, there are still people streaming into this so-called utopia. Even if it’s not actually limitless, people who resent their current existence will still stream into this new world, no?”

Aziz rubbed his eyes. “Yes. In fact, this new world doesn’t actually need any quirks for it to draw people over. After all, most of Orb aren’t lucky enough to have wealth, power and status. With an unexplored world opened to them, how many are willing to jump over and try it out?”

“More than you think.”

“Which is precisely the problem.” Aziz watched as yet another group of people landed onto the Mirai. “Now that I put it that way, I can’t help but wonder if we’re actually the bad guys or something.”

“No, we aren’t.” Marie folded her arms. “The great gods said it themselves, no? The creation of Celestia could very well result in immense harm to Orb. That’s why we’re opposing it.”

“That’s the official line, Marie.” Aziz folded his arms. “Besides, I don’t see why the great gods can’t help out in trying to prevent this so-called immense harm.”

“Maybe they just can’t? Or even if they do, the risk is still present?”

The two stared at each other, and then let out a long breath in unison. Thinking about issues like this was obviously not within Aziz’s job scope, as well as that of Marie’s, but it wasn’t like this was something they could ignore. In fact, almost no one here could actually do anything about the ongoing situation, save for obeying the directions of the great gods, and yet, such a meeting had been convened.

A ripple ran through the crowd on the upper deck, granting a merciful end to Aziz’s contemplation. At the same time, Minister Pauline flitted through the crowd and arrived at their table, before gesturing from them to get up and follow.

“Let’s go,” said the minister. “And while you’re at it, help me look for Eventide and the others. I’m not sure where they ran off to since last night.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Like little chicks trailing behind their mother hen, Aziz and Marie followed Pauline through the crowd milling into the lower decks of the Mirai, where a lavish auditorium capable of sitting a few thousand people had been constructed for some lavish, wasteful reason.

“It’s great we got this corner seat, at least,” said Pauline, looking around, “but we might have to wait for the break before we can find Eventide…”