Gaius and Isabelle got up as the sky turned orange. Twilight was streaming into Gaius’ workplace, casting the new world below into a breath-taking orange. Gaius had debated with himself on the issue of making a closed world that emulated Orb, but he chose to let physics take hold instead.

For one, the base, Cybral, was a realistic emulation of Orb, which spared him quite a bit of energy. The greatest issue was actually the infinite nature of Celestia itself, which was solved through the concept of outer space. By simply ascribing the outer limits of Celestia’s land size to that of the actual Orb’s maximum size, he could get by with a functional emulation of infinity, a concept that even the great gods couldn’t quite grasp. He hadn’t quite believed Oculus back then, when he said this would work, but there was always something new to be learned.

It still felt like deception, though.

“Still, are you going to make something like planets and whatnot?” Isabelle asked. She had spent the past few hours thumbing through the other suggestions Oculus had left behind, which was frankly more of a manual on how to make a universe.

“Possibly,” Gaius replied. “Since Celestia emulates the natural laws of Orb to a tee, and yet has certain very convenient functions, I can emulate creation in this regard easily. But it’s…not efficient.”

“That sounds like Celestia isn’t going to last forever, though.”

“It won’t,” Gaius confirmed. “It can’t. After a few billion years, this world will run out of energy. Due to its virtual nature, it’s very energy efficient as a training ground, but that’s about it.”

“…billion?”

“Yeah, we’re thinking really long term here,” Gaius replied. “But since it’s a self-enclosed simulation, it won’t be able to generate power at an efficiency higher than a hundred percent. We’ll only break even or make a loss. Therefore, Celestia will eventually disintegrate. My hope, however, is that the material dimension where Orb can finally be fully exploited after a million or so years of technological development in here, and that a new age of excess staves off any further war.”

“Uhh…” Isabelle rubbed her head. “…What books have you been reading? I think I need to take a good long look at them, or else I won’t ever understand what’s going on.”

“Here.”

Isabelle glanced at the titles, and then arched an eyebrow. “A God’s Guide to Genesis? Basics of Creation? The Conception Theorem? Wow. These books sound… uh, fantastical.”

“The old gods of Orb wrote them or something, apparently. I don’t know how, since they’re not supposed to even exist in this timeline, but Oculus managed to do it. I get a feeling that he was here to guide me to this very purpose.” Gaius made a sad smile. “But yes, one possible purpose of Celestia is to enable the functional exploitation of Orb’s universe itself.”

“Just a springboard, then.”

“Yes.” Gaius looked around. “Once all this is over, I’ll accelerate time in Celestia, and then wash my hands of all these.”

“But why do you need to even care about this?” Isabelle asked. “Your goal has already been met, no?”

“The great gods are not fools,” Gaius replied. “They are bound to pick out the unsustainable nature of Celestia...well, if a few billion years of a virtual existence is what you’d call unsustainable. I do not need them trying to cause havoc once Celestia is fully formed and the people of Orb taken inside.”

“You’re trying to kill lots of birds with this one stone,” Isabelle noted.

“Yeah. Efficient, right? I stop a war, I end animosities, and I create a simulation in which many things can be developed.” Gaius folded his arms. “I’ve prepared exit scenarios too. Either someone works out how to become a Lord in Celestia, at which point he or she will be expelled, or technology advances to the point that they can shuttle across dimensions and return to Orb.”

“Can someone actually become a Lord in here?” Isabelle asked, curious.

“Only if they know to use their own will,” Gaius replied. “But that’s going to take centuries, or even millennia. Either way, once someone like that occurs, they’ll be tossed out into Orb. They won’t just ascend in body and mind; they’ll literally ascend to a more solid plane of existence.”

“But wouldn’t there be no one on Orb?”

“Yeah.”

“And isn’t that a problem?” Isabelle asked.

“That’s their problem. This world doesn’t need overly-strong individuals that can suppress the will of the masses alone,” Gaius replied dismissively. “Think of it as a lesson in understanding the importance of weaker people. Without working cooperatively, one is doomed to lead a tough, menial existence.”

“Makes sense.” Isabelle frowned. “But what about the great gods and the semi-divinities?”

“The former can lead a lonely life on Orb, or they can give up their overbearing strength and enter Celestia,” Gaius replied. “Their choice. Celestia can’t pull these people inside, since they have their own will, but the same can’t be said for the masses. Since they insist on something as primal as ruling via might, they can also enjoy a more primal way of life.”

The sky turned violet at those words. Gaius looked up at the false night, and then smiled. The first day of Celestia was rather peaceful, and all parameters were normal. Even as he lounged around with Isabelle, more and more people had been lured over here, proving that there were indeed people who truly desired his ideals.

How would the great gods react?

How would the rulers of the Five Lands, having grown used to enjoying the fruits of their people’s labour, react to what essentially was a defection?

More importantly, how would they spin this to the people of Orb? Gaius found himself interested in these issues. The demographic he was targeting was essentially the rich and the powerful, as well as those who benefited from such an exploitation.

“I’ll get Nexus to supervise tomorrow,” said Gaius.

“Eh?”

“We’re going back next morning,” he replied, a smile on his face. “I want to hear how the great gods spin Celestia to the world.”

“I don’t like that wicked grin of yours…”