Seraph promised Alexander an explanation behind her decisions at the beginning of the disaster. Which, after hearing Pereyra’s claims about Alexander’s true nature, extended to the rest of Slayer Team Alba as well, plus Sage and Firebrand who were both in the know—intentionally and unintentionally respectively.

“Yes,” she said, in a private meeting room in Ordo University after everybody no longer had business back in that hellish battlefield, “when the disaster began, Kosmos was present during Kreutz’s first appearance and informed me about Sirius Aethfell. It wasn’t until the attack on Black Paladin Station when I had genuinely believed it. Then, you had what Pereyra said to Alexander.”

“So is everything true then?” Althea asked, leaning over the table she was sitting at to look at her brother. She had always teased him for his humble self-depreciation. Sometimes berated him. “That Alex is an EX-Rank?”

“That is what we believe, yes.” Seraph explained the circumstances. Both her and Kosmos—Sage as well, when she later joined Angels—had known about Alexander for quite some time. Since the finale of the Crisis actually, but had only thought to approach him with the meeting that Seraph wanted on Friday of last week. There, she would tell him the details (vaguely, as she had intended), offer him a place in Angels, and want his decision after his trip to Seoul with Althea and Leona.

It was hard to believe what she said. It was hard to believe pretty much everything that happened: the disaster, Archknell, the Sungrazers, now this. Alexander resigned himself with taking the punches as they come, using little energy to actually fret over these massive revelations—he used too much energy tonight anyway.

So it was a pleasant surprise to hear that the rest of his team had a revelation for themselves.

That they, too, were connected to the Previous Earth, the world where the initial conflict began presumably. The world where an EX-Rank Slayer named Conqueror was the Guild Master of Bastion Guild and Celestial War Empress was his second, and two of his Head Officers were the kids sitting at the same table as him: Spirit Beast Queen and Operator.

Alexander paid attention to his team’s reaction. Leona had been told about this possibility and wasn’t completely surprised, but Althea and Vernon were. They must had felt it. It was the darndest feeling in the world, because you had been given the closest evidence to prove Fate’s existence. But this wasn’t Fate at all; this wasn’t a world where Fate existed. So this was uncanny. Horrifically, existentially uncanny. Like watching a movie starring someone who looked like you, acted like you, moving through a plot of your life that you should know but you didn’t.

Of course, not everyone had the same reaction. Damien, for one, was explicitly told that there wasn’t any information about him. The records that Kosmos possessed contained some information of Bastion Guild’s roster but not the entirety obviously, so there was a possibility of his existence.

“No, there isn’t,” Damien stated. “Well, to correct myself: I am too unique to have an exact copy in this Previous Earth.”

”Is it uh…” Althea gestured to her arm. “The arm thing?”

”No,” Alexander corrected, staring at his friend, “it’s the fact that you’re not like us, right?”

Damien smiled and nodded. “Mhm. You probably suspected that I operated differently than most people, so I’ll state it directly so there won’t be any confusion: I’m half-demon, half-human—and technically non-human. I inherited this blood from my father, whom you know as Duskfire, but my younger siblings are exempt. They’re humans like you.”

”That means Dawnfire?” Leona asked.

”Including him.”

Alexander sighed. Again, take the punches as they come. The rest of his team was following the same philosophy it seemed.

Althea leaned against her chair closer to the now-confessed non-human. “So you have powers right? You’re technically stronger than us? You did shrug off an amputation.”

“Yes and no. It’s a long, long story but my father took most of my power, sealed the rest, and casted me to this mortal world where I mingle with you lowly humans." Damien ended his sentence with a smug smile.

No one was amused.

Damien sighed. "Anyway, what you see here is a consequence of [Demon Constitution]. While I'm effectively human, there are some things you can't get rid of."

"I didn't see that in your profile," Leona said.

"That's because I didn't allow you to."

"Huh." Firebrand crossed his arms, looking down at the floor. "So Duskfire has a cheat. Shoulda known..."

"You wouldn't win against him regardless, Aiden," Sage commented, eyes flat and colorless, too exhausted to put some energy into her statement.

Seraph rapped the table with her knuckles, getting everyone's attention. "We can speak about Damien and Duskfire later, but let's return to the central conversation at hand: Sirius Aethfell."

Alexander's heart dropped hearing his name. He sat forward and began, "Archknell had recognized him when Pereyra told me about my otherself. But Pereyra didn't say 'Sirius Aethfell' or even 'Helodrake Aethfell', but 'the Dragon King'."

“The Dragon King?” Damien chimed, his tone having a scent of familiarity. “My dad had important records in his office. Sometimes when I was younger, I occasionally a peek and saw that name pop up. I asked about him once but he told me to never mention him again.”

Seraph replied, “That’s because any information pertaining to the Dragon King was top secret even to this day. We, the Slayers of the time, knew him as the culprit behind the Great Crisis.”

A silence fell within the room like an anvil drop. The Great Crisis was officially declared seventeen years ago, when Alexander had been only six. For about four years, humanity had to deal with the greatest spike of expeditions since the Slayer Emergence. If you wanted to be pandantic, analysts said the Crisis actually lasted for six years because politicians and researchers had been arguing whether or not to call an international emergency until it was glaringly obvious.

The Crisis was marked by the rise of Kosmos, Seraph, and Angels Guild. They had volunteered to lend their aid to numerous high-ranked expeditions, quickly gaining fame and respect, and eventually had led them to spearhead the Red Gate Expedition. Alexander had remembered the hype: this was the expedition to end the Crisis.

And it had. Kosmos and Angels were the world’s saviors, whose heroism was only matched by the Sovereigns.

And to think…

“The Dragon King…?” Firebrand muttered out loud. “Nobody recognized ‘Aethfell’ or something?”

“That’s because the name ‘Helodrake Aethfell’ was known to very few people due to the circumstances and general obscurity at the time, and it still is. Most know him as ‘the Dragon King’, the Ruler of the Hundred Realms—and before you ask, we do not know what the Hundred Realms is." Seraph glanced at Alexander, sighing. “Regardless, Kosmos had killed him. We confirmed it. So believe me, we’re just as bewildered as you are. The Global Guards too, surely.”

“But we know that we…” Alexander gestured to himself and his team. “...are somehow connected to Aethfell?” At least our otherselves were.”

“Presumably, yes,” Seraph answered. “We theorize that Aethfell’s world was also experiencing spatial phenomena and met Bastion Guild as a result. But of course, nothing’s confirmed.”

Damien raised his hand. “Do the Global Guards know about this? About Alexander’s true value? I'm surprised he didn't receive a Crimson Order, or even Black."

Alexander soured hearing the last sentence and turned to Seraph, who shook her head.

“Why would we tell them anything?” she said with such conviction that it scared the questions out of everybody.

But Damien made a great point. The Global Guards would designate a Black Order on him; after that, it was anyone's guess but Alexander's life wouldn't be his and he'd beg for death. By the fact he was sitting here, that was a blessing he didn't know he received. Of all the reveals and information he heard today, this got to him the most.

With a single sentence, Alexander was glad to live.

"Thank you, Seraph," he said after a few uncomfortable seconds, his voice soft and genuine. "For protecting me and Thea."

Seraph smiled; it belonged to not the Slayer but Sera Hyun-Creed. "Please, you should thank Kosmos. He was the one who found this information and kept it out of the Guard's reach."

"I'll thank both of you. Oh, what about Rector?"

"You can thank the three of us."

Afterwards, Seraph took questions with Sage passively working in the back. Vernon asked about how long she had been observing him and Leona wondered that too—since Red Gate finished. Alexander had a few questions himself, making certain of Seraph’s motivations behind her recent decisions about their involvement.

It was what he expected: Seraph and Kosmos were in the same predicament as they were. By that, chickens with their heads cut off. She'd been reluctant to involve Alba in this investigation so soon, let alone in a dangerous, ongoing outbreak but from the moment Kosmos had told her about Aethfell’s involvement, it had to be done. So she had brought Alba under her direct command and had them participate in Operation Scorcher. And, well, knowing she would need to reveal the truth to them sooner than she expected, it also served as a testing ground of sorts. To prepare them for what would lie ahead.

But she didn’t anticipate the operation going south this badly. It was a miracle that everyone came out relatively okay in spite of the losses. Deon was gone, most of the Combative’s professors were gone, Systemic Works had been effectively destroyed, and a thousand others with them.

“So what will we do now?” Leona raised, casting a glance at the others in the room. Especially to her teammates. They shared the same expression. Regardless of how they felt currently, they couldn’t do nothing after having this bombshell dropped on them.

Alexander blew air out of his mouth; Fate didn’t exist in this world but it made an excellent case. This was greater than ambition, greater than some biological need like eating or drinking. In the ways that this was existentially uncanny, the decision was brought on by an existential need.

Seraph looked around at the motley team she had assembled and possessed an iron look of determination—no, greater than that. It was a divinely poignant aura matched only by the [Great King's Charisma] but this was earned by no magic, rather purchased, simply, by experience. Her eyes were the passage into her galvanizing spirit and there Alexander distinctly remembered her speech she had given before Angels embarked on the Red Gate Crisis, where he felt hope even years after its success. He felt the same hope now, as slowly she drew a smile and filled him with a confidence that was intoxicating.

“I am going to establish a new strike force at this very moment,” she told them, “an investigation team into the Kreutz Sungrazers.”

And that was how the Dawn Baptists was first formed, first named the Systemic Works Group. It had began with that room, then included the Alumnus and finally Problem. Seraph requested that none of the information about the Previous World or Sirius Aethfell would leave the room, as the less people who knew, the better; however, it was up to Damien's discretion if he wished to tell the others about his condition.

He had.

For the week thereafter, the Baptists became known across the city for their participation in Scorcher, and especially a certain Pseudo-Slayer Team.

~~~

Before the Ordo Disaster, Grendel Arsenal was known to hold high-value items locked deep, deep in a vault: weapons, armor, accessories, the like, all owned by the mighty Ordoian government. Most were nothing special, really, nothing Victor would personally want—well, that was what the public knew anyway. Of course they’d keep the really valuable shit under wraps, stamped with “TOP SECRET”. Divinity-level items, conceptual weapons. Only the public knew a few that existed, such as the famous [Godslayer Claymore], wielded by Giantomachia of the Sovereigns. It had been broken in battle and only pieces remained.

Victor recalled Scorcher, where people theorized that the “secret weapon” used to kill the Comets was actually the claymore in question; after all, it supposedly could kill gods with a single swing. Pretty badass if he had to admit. If anything could kill the Comets, it'd be that one. Nobody knew how Gigantomachia acquired such a weapon or even how it was created.

Grendel Arsenal today was a major hub of action for the Ordoians. Only a few civilians were spotted here in the sea of gray, urban-colored uniforms and the strange warriors wearing elaborate costumes and expensive jewelry and holding things like swords to staffs. Victor was one of those freaks.

When Alumnus arrived in Grendel, it was Victor’s first time there. He had visited a good portion of the bases in Ordo on various training exercise and trips to get his class familiar with protocols, regulations, generally prepare them for constant collaborations with the military. Not to mention going on low-ranked expeditions.

But nothing prepared him for apprehending rogues, which he had to quickly adapt and get used to. As it turned out, Grendel Arsenal was also the headquarters of Task Force Duskheads (initially 3-10 Expedition), dedicated to taking care of domestic threats, commanded by Colonel Caleb Gillespie. The task force was formed on day three of the Ordo Disaster, and by day five, they expanded across the city with a battalion in every borough.

That was how bad the problem was, actually. According to Seraph in the [Private Channel], they “might as well make a big gesture” to deter any future wrongdoers. Though the intimidation didn’t always work. Desperation and greed were stronger, sometimes. And people were just idiots.

At least he didn’t have to pin a guy against the ground again. Victor had gained a newfound appreciation for police officers

“I’m already beat,” Kaiya said, laying down face-first on her thin cot. They had already situated themselves with their sleeping conditions for the next day or so, or whenever this mission was officially declared to be completed or other extenuating circumstances.

Victor nodded, cracked his neck a few times on both sides, groaning. The car ride was hell. They stowed away in the back of a transport truck for an hour or so, hopping around with moving crates. For a second, Victor thought he’d be knocked out the back and tumble onto the road. “Maybe we should’ve teleported here, yeah? Seraph ordered us to buy as many [Ordo Teleport Scrolls] as possible.”

“Which we will use when the situation demands,” scolded Chunhua, walking by Kaiya and patting her on the thigh, forcing her to sit up. Chunhua took the cot across from hers and sat down.

“Wouldn’t it kill us to ask for Initiate to help? It'd cut down on the travel time,” Victor continued. Initiate was the teleporter who helped Alexander with his suicidal stint back in Scorcher; every now and then, she’d pop in and give needed supplies when necessary, then pop out.

“It would kill her judging from how spoiled you are.” Chunhua crossed her arms and huffed.

“Alright alright, I get it, man. I give.”

Kaiya turned to the open tent flaps. “Is Professor Hei still out? Felt like a while.

“Yeah, she’s talkin' to the top brass after all. She needs to introduce herself and all that junk. Couldn't be me. I barely paid attention when we were learning about the military.”

"Aren't you the American here?"

“I’m a second-gen immigrant—”

“Yeah, whatever. I thought you’d know some terminology naturally. You guys got the Green Berets, the Navy Seals, Delta Force—"

"That's all special forces," replied Victor, frowning.

"Hey, you do know something!"

"Okay." Victor groaned and laid back against the tent’s walls. They were heavy and thick, basically as good as any wall. He sighed.

Chunhua looked between the two with the most unamused expression, as if she was an older sister watching her little siblings bicker. “You both exhaust me. You ought to save your strength for later, when the others arrive.”

“Yeah yeah, I know…” Victor muttered, thinking back.

It’d been really crazy, hadn’t it? Being a Baptist, working side-by-side with Alexander of all guys. Not to mention Damien's whole thing too. More importantly, Victor never expected to be working under Seraph, which were his intentions all along but not like this. While he’d brag to his classmates…

Well, he didn’t have many left. Everyone back in Ordo University was either staying there for their own safety or working to make Ordo a safer place. As safe as they could, anyhow, with the rising number of distortions and domestic conflicts by the day. Alumnus had to participate in a few apprehensions like Alba. Pressing guys against the asphalt, against the wall—some tried their luck and were shot for it.

It’d only get worse from here on out.

They had to find the Sungrazers soon.

“Hey you two,” Victor began, “you wanted to go into Martials, right? Anything we oughta know?"

Kaiya cocked her head to Chunhua, allowing her to take the floor.

Chunhua sighed and crossed her arms. “I am not a well of information, but I will do my best. I don't know much about the Five Distinct Journeys because I keep track of them the least. I heard that their positions are often contested within the guild itself between fellow artisans because they have access to nearly all of Martial’s resources, receive the most funding for their projects, and so on.”

“They must have a lot of pressure on them, don’t they?” added Kaiya.

“Absolutely, yes. Master Jin Junjie is a ruthless man who seeks perfection. Becoming a Journey is not a title of honor but a responsibility. Fail to provide any results and you will be replaced without hesitation. For his son to bring the entire team, they must have business here in Grendel Arsenal. One of which is our investigation into the spatial anomaly.”

“The Righteous Jin Tiehan…” Victor shivered saying his name. “That guy gives me the creeps, man. Like, he might be freakier than Damien.”

Kaiya gossiped, “I heard he was put on a training regiment since birth. Since birth! I mean, obviously that isn’t true, but you get the point. I only met Jin Tiehan once and that was when he visited us last winter to scout us.”

Victor gulped. “Professor Ichiken sparred with him afterhours.”

“Yeah?”

“He said Jin Tiehan was the worst opponent he ever faced and would never spar with him again. Not like ‘incompetent bad’ but ‘scary bad’. And you know how Ichiken was. He loved sparring.”

“Did he explain why?”

“Yeah, I think it was…” Victor creased his lips. “...Something like, ‘War is not a sport to Jin Tiehan. It’s a game and he is its maker.’”

Everyone collectively shared their own trembling expressions.

Chunhua especially, who had a hand over her mouth. “Yes. During my time in Canglin, the masters would speak often of Martials Guild here in Ordo. They admired Jin Junjie’s efforts to achieve true mastery, and the admiration extended to his son as well. Though, I often ask myself if such mastery is worth the efforts required to achieve it.

“It did not stop me, however, in my pursuits to join this reputable guild. In China, we honor and respect Martials as though it’s a guild in our country. Even after Jin Junjie had defeated our Mortal Drago and the Cultivator Chair of the Three Martial Heroes.”

Victor and Kaiya hummed.

The Three Martial Heroes were considered to be the strongest martial-based Slayers: a cultivator, a murim-in, and a kensei.

Currently, Master Jin Junjie was the champion of the Cultivator Chair after dethroning the Mortal Dragon some years back as described. The current Cheonma of the Demonic Cult had inherited the Murim-in Chair from his master, though you couldn’t simply inherit a position like that—he was bound to get into a lot of duels soon. And finally was the current Kensei, a young prodigy who had bested the previous Kensei a year or two ago. His real name and appearance were unknown.

Jin Tiehan was expected to inherit the Cultivator Chair once his father retired, though not without resistance.

But the biggest question was: if the Three Martial Heroes fought in a single, all-out battle, who would win? No one knew the answer.

If only Victor wasn’t born in America. Part-Indonesian but too American. Just like Alexander, but for him it was Chinese.

“So.” Victor turned to Kaiya. “Why did you wanna join Martials?”

“‘Cause Chunhua wanted to join.”

“Seriously?”

“You must be lying.”

Kaiya detected her friends’ disappointment and cleared her throat. “You’re right! I wanna be the next Kensei and take down the Musashi-wannabe!"

“And I wanna be the President of the United States,” Victor said in a mocking western accent. “Yeehaw.”

“Is that true, Kaiya?” Chunhua asked her sincerely. “Did you only want to join Martials because of me?”

“I mean, I’d be lying if I denied it completely…” Kaiya was antsy. “I’m pretty bad at my esper powers; the only thing going for me is the sheer output I can generate. Martials seems like a good place to develop something decent.”

Chunhua sighed, having no response to that. So there was an awkward silence now. That was fun. Nothing like being caught in the middle of tension between two best friends.

Victor, despite his better judgement, started up a new conversation: “What was it like training in Canglin?”

“Why do you ask?” replied Chunhua.

“I dunno. You don’t talk ‘bout Canglin much although it defined your life.”

“It’s what you would call a ‘long story’. And I’d rather not discuss it.”

Cold. Looked like no one was in the mood to talk anymore.

Victor sat on his cot until he eventually received a message from Professor Hei about five minutes later:

Gul:

The Journeys arrived first with Alba