“Telescopium,” Cassiopeia called, appearing as a holographic projection. Since the fall of the Kreutz Sungrazers, the forces inside and outside the Ordo Outbreak Barrier were freely able to communicate without hindrances. Though the two Constellations have methods somewhat going around it, even theirs were stifled. This was their first real conversation without shorthand phrases or strange loaded messages.

“Cassiopeia,” replied the Scholar, irritated already. He didn’t quite like his senior (all his seniors to be exact). She was as cold as her powers, but there was something else about the Harridan that irked him.

He wouldn’t get a satisfying answer about this peculiarity. The Almagest kept secrets, hiding crucial details from their juniors and especially from each other. Exactly the opposite you would see here, where Slayer Teams acted as a second family for the members within. Ate together, drank together, prayed and probably slept together. Powered by cliché concepts like camaraderie and teamwork and unity, of which were myths in this organization, Telescopium had learned. Everyone had a history, everyone had ulterior motives, everyone was a tool for everyone, loosely held together by the dregs of responsibility and duty—and whatever mutual past they shared.

He wasn’t bothered, then, when Cassiopeia held a thin frosty glare from underneath her thick mask, soft white breaths emanating out from the edges like steam from an automaton. She was an irritating floor manager.

“Do the others know about your true identity?” she asked. There was a reason why a few members of the Almagest wore masks: this was why. Why else would they put on these uncomfortable and tacky theater props? To look cool? No, for some Constellations, their identities were dangerous.

Like his own, for example. Theoretically dangerous—he didn’t quite care much for his own name.

“To those who know me,” answered the Scholar frankly. “I’d be concerned for Ordo’s wellbeing if they couldn’t add two and two together—“ (“Telescopium—“) “—No, even that operation is too difficult. I’ve once met a senior mage who couldn’t draw a diagram of a simple five-glyph teleportation circle—“

Cassiopeia stopped him sharply: “You’re being belligerent—“

“And you are incompetent. A fool. An idiot. If you had done your job properly and realized Sirius was releasing her hounds to my homeworld, we could’ve prevented the deaths of hundreds of thousands. Though I suppose hundreds of thousands mean quite little to you who encounter populations in the trillions.”

The Harridan was silenced for a few moments, trembling a tad but Telescopium didn’t think she was crying. White breaths fogged her head where her mask's shape was partially obscured.

In seconds, the fog was pulled. “…The outcome is tragic but satisfactory,” she clinically said, “despite the detour, our main objective remains the same as always. The landscape changed, though, now that your homeworld is involved in the Realms’ affairs again. We will handle their meddling as they appear.”

“And how is Kosmos, if I may ask?” inquired Telescopium, and she didn’t immediately answer. Was that shame he sensed, oh my. “As I expected. Already your standing with this world is low, and for the first time in my too long of a life, I agree with the Global Guards. They trust you as much as I trust a child with not sticking their hand in the cookie jar. Imagine how Kosmos would react when you lied to him, saying you knew not a thing why or how this happened. Cassiopeia, you wretched woman, you lie and hide so many secrets that not even God could keep them straight—“

“We don’t need Kosmos nor the Global Guards, not this time or during the Crisis,” countered Cassiopeia, stalwart in her voice. “Remind yourself that we are only using you for your expertise and nothing else. You are not privy to our other goals, Telescopium.”

“Your goals?” The Constellation scoffed. “Which ‘yours’ are we speaking of? ‘Yours’ as in the shattered Almagest, or ‘yours’ as in you yourself, Harridan?”

She didn’t fill the silence.

“Lord, are you sure I’m speaking to a woman or a lockbox?” He coughed and shook his head, lifting up his mask to wipe away the spittle on his lips. “Hmph, I’m growing tired of this conversation so I’ll hasten it: the Disaster ended on agreeable terms. The Sungrazers are dead and Ordo is in ruins, but we have a new star on the horizon: Alexander Shen. As far as the spoils, they have captured the universe splitters of Pereyra and Tewfik; the mutilated corpses of Tewfik and two Diminutive Cosmic Beasts; oh, and let’s not forget Fragment Carn and whatever befalls Master Jin Junjie.

“However Kosmos and Seraph will react to this catastrophe is for time to tell. As you so astutely reminded me earlier, such observation is not my expertise. That’s reserved for the other agents integrated amongst key organizations. Whomever faction they belong to. Now that I have finished what you have called me for—or that is what I assume considering we sidetracked—is that everything, my senior?”

Cassiopeia clearly was unhappy with how this conversation proceeded but that was her own fault. He had no time for mysterious and vague characters; really, he would’ve denied the Almagest if the Zeroth Constellation hadn’t revealed the true scope of the problem. It was something that even the hopeless Master Alzahrani would obsess to solve.

That was the cynicism in him talking; the youthful, enthusiastic morsel inside his heart had an alternative opinion: if the problem went unresolved, then it would be his home caught in the crossfire.

Shame, though, that he had to butt heads with the Constellations.

Cassiopeia huffed white and nodded, giving him the literal cold shoulder. “We will leave for the Hundred Realms when the Barrier falls.” Any further action taken against Kosmos and his faction—and the world at large—will be unknown to me, I’d wager.

“Please.” The call ended, and Telescopium sighed in relief. He dispelled the communication bubble and immediately he sensed someone in his vicinity. A young boy too prideful for his own good. “No answers,” he told him.

“So I guessed,” Morgan replied; Telescopium couldn’t believe this boy had gotten himself cursed. Just what did he do after the departure of his master? “Are you doing anything important before you leave? Perhaps investigating the cosmic beings we captured?”

The elder frowned. “Do not pawn off the hard work on me, child.”

“It’d be revelationary to hear your insight again, Master—“

“Telescopium,” insisted the Constellation. “And no, to give you one answer to your questions. I may be a cryptic man but common sense dictates that I inform you of my motives; unfortunately this world is not governed by common sense and instead governed by those who can’t differentiate their asses from their eyes. I’m afraid you have to search for the truth on your own, as will I. Because I don't have all the answers either.”

With a smooth wave of his hands, he cut open a portal leading to a private location somewhere within the city.

Morgan grimaced. They were both prideful Slayers dedicated to their craft, the perfect stereotype of a braggart self-interested mage; however, mutually, they wanted to enjoy the other’s company for longer and in better circumstances. Share stories of their time apart, debate and argue with jargon little could understand, these things that grounded them to the earth.

But graver matters were ahead of them.

“Whenever we’ll meet again, I want a long and thorough conversation with you,” Morgan requested, trying to keep his pretentious tone up but children were never skilled at concealing their emotions.

“If I’m not dead by then, sure—I’ll allow you to murder me with your words, Morgan. Will you still be a child?”

“It depends on multiple factors. I do miss my adult body—being able to drink, having the occasional fling with whatever pretty boy or girl I meet.”

“Pah, today’s generation…” Telescopium took one step into the portal, “…I’m relying on you to find a resolution to this new crisis. And one last matter before I depart from my homeworld: tell Alma to leave Martials without a second thought.”

“Alright,” said Morgan as he watched his old master disappear into the portal, gone just like that. He had no business with anyone else in the Baptists or the entire city in general. Other than Morgan himself and Alma.

What have I gotten myself into? thought the ritualist as he donned his hood again, obscuring his youthful face. He levitated, hovering away from the alleyway.

It didn’t take long to find Alma, actually, who was dashing up to Morgan. It seemed they had the same idea.

Alma stopped, wiping off sweat with his sleeves. “Did he already leave, Hoshino? He’s gone, isn’t he?”

Morgan nodded and found disappointment on the Journey’s face.

“He hasn’t changed at all,” reminiscenced Alma. “I’ve often been at the receiving end of his encounters: calls unanswered, texts put on ‘read’, sudden departures without warning and the likes. I suppose we can only pray for him and whatever journey he’s embarking on—we ought to pray for ourselves for the same reason.”

“Yes…” muttered Morgan, “…what will you do after this? The old man told you to leave Martials for whatever reason.”

“Absolutely,” Alma replied as they walked together to nowhere in particular. “I—“ suddenly he paused, glancing at Morgan as though he realized something, then cleared his throat, “—I do not look forward to the new management underneath Jin Tiehan. As soon as I can, I will turn in my resignation and forget about the guild. I’ve had enough of the culture there.

“I think… I think I’m going to return to Iraq, Hoshino.”

“Not Israel?”

“You tease me. I can barely survive the Society's pestering from their chapters in my home country. I would be slaughtered if I lived at their capital.”

“Where else will you find work?”

“Once they hear of my return, work will come to me,” Alma said while chuckling. “I regularly keep in contact with old colleagues and students who require my advice. I’ll be plenty occupied there.”

“You made up your mind for once, Alma. How rare.”

“So it is. What about you?”

“I am…” Morgan thought about what happened over the past week: Archknell’s death, Jury’s and Hidden’s deaths, the conflict between Mystic and Silverhonor, the Sungrazers and the Almagest and Conqueror. Of them… “Depending on what Conqueror does when he wakes up from his coma, I may leave Glory Guild.”

“You’re chasing after your master?”

“Also for revenge and curiosity.” Morgan measured the Journey from underneath his cowl. “I want the truth, Alma. About everything. For a man tangled in the bushes, I’m only tempted to ensnare myself further.”

“Then you’ll have my prayers,” Alma told him. “If there is anyone who could reveal the true matter behind the stars, it would be you, Hoshino. It would be you.”

~~~

“Aiden—”

“Why…?” Aiden was pacing holes into the floor, doing everything he could to stop himself from blowing a hole in the fucking wall. He scratched at his cheek, looked everywhere like a paranoid freak, kept moving to keep his blood going. Because frankly this whole thing was fucking insane. “Why am I always the fuckin’ one left outta the picture, Rector?”

The Vice Guild Master of Angels made his grief more obvious than him. His lavender eyes were downturned, and he curled his long black locks around a finger, lips tight. He didn’t immediately answer.

Aiden took a chance and stopped, but already he felt like blowing up. “Look, I understand the Conqueror thing, right? I sorta-kinda get it: EX-Rank, Dragon King, whatever the fuck the Almagest is, fate of the universe. Okay, sure! Feels kinda bad being the odd one out but sensitive information is sensitive information. But Chie, why wasn’t I told ‘bout Chie?”

Rector didn’t answer.

Aiden began to boil and opened his mouth to let out some steam, but he slammed his cracked lips shut. Instead he began to pace again, spotted a lopsided table from a bad leg and spontaneously decided to slam his fist against the surface. The table broke in half and he kicked the remains into a wall, breaking into pieces.

“I don’t…” he muttered, “...I don’t get it. Am I just some fuckin’ dog you keep ‘round ‘cause he’s fun n’all? Am I just that much of a fucking dumbass that you can’t trust me with anything? C’mon, Rector, tell me something goddammit!” Lavender eyes diverted to the sunken floor. “Seriously, you fuckin’ asshole! Tell me what you really think ‘bout me! Isn’t that why Seraph sent you to talk to me ‘cuz she can’t?! ‘Firebrand, the reckless jackass who plays things solo!’ ‘Firebrand, a walking PR disaster!’ ‘Fire—!’”

“It was her request, Aiden,” Rector finally said. “She didn’t want you to know. I—well, she wasn’t ready to tell you. How she gained the abilities of Izanami-no-Mikoto involves memories she’d rather never drudge up again. What she'd been through, it would take most people their entire lives to come to terms with it.”

Aiden had suspected it much. Hell, when they first met, Chie was way more of a hermit than today; she never talked about her past. He knew that the Angels rescued Chie eight years ago (when she was thirteen at the time) but that was it. Considering there were no notable articles within that time period—because Aiden checked—it was kept hush-hush. Who did they save Chie from, why they saved her, and what were her abusers doing…

He inhaled, doing his best to not think about the implications. “Why?” he creaked out a question. “Does she think I’m too stupid to understand—?” (“No—”) “—I mean, I guess I get it. I kept doin’ shit on my own, I kept doing shit without thinking—”

“Aiden, she really didn’t know how she was going to tell you,” Rector stopped him there. “We—myself and the two knuckleheads—listened to excuse after excuse: she didn’t want you to see her differently, she didn’t want you to avenge her childhood, she didn’t want this and she didn’t want that. You know her: she likes taking the easy way out and it drives me insane. Why risk changing anything when she was so happy then? So she did the stupid but understandable thing and settled into a comfortable space and floated through life until something like this happens.”

Aiden stiffened, rubbing his nose.

“At least we gave her a space to be comfortable in.” Rector placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not my place to tell you what happened to her, but please be proud about that. I understand you’re angry—”

“I fuckin’ shouldn’t—”

“Aiden.”

“I died,” he reminded him. “You guys thought I was gone for real; good thing I returned at the nick of time, yeah? Right after Pereyra and Tewfik killed thousands and Archknell too. Now, it’s Chie’s turn and I’m handlin’ it worse than y’all did with me.”

At the mention of his death—of which he caused by not communicating the new addition of his [Honor], gained when he reached Rank SS—Rector went still. Something in his shaking pupils told Aiden that he was wrong: these guys simply hid their grief better than him.

Before either of them could follow up, there was a knock near the entrance. A Japanese woman wearing robes belonging to the Five Distinct Journeys in Martials Guild. She was a gorgeous mature lady with pinkish-white hair and had a naturally defusing demeanor: Shinzo, the Journey of Healing.

“I’ve finished my first treatment,” she told them. Aiden could make out the healing wound across the bottom of her left arm, when she had forced Chie to drink her blood.

Rector, silently, gestured with his head and the two men followed the Journey to the building across the street. A medical site was created in this area, and Shinzo had used a backroom as a private space so she could treat Chie.

There was another outstanding woman, this time with short-blonde hair and a wicked scar across her face, leaning against the wall beside the door to Chie’s room. Levin. Aiden never thought he’d feel a great urge to hug her.

“I thought you’d be with Monarch,” Rector asked her.

Levin picked up her head and sighed, cracking her neck. “I am. After I make sure the little one’s okay. She’s a fighter.”

Aiden remembered. Using [Izanami-no-Mikoto] for ten minutes had stopped Chie’s heart. She’d be dead right now if Levin hadn’t been there. Since her whole thing was lightning powers and all, she acted as an improvised defibrillator, shocking Chie over and over as her body continued to fail and fail. It brought enough time for Shinzo to arrive, who somehow knew this was happening and knew how to save her.

More secrets he figured, more secrets that saved their asses. Everyone got ‘em.

Aiden could be annoyed all he want—he really was—but he owed Levin and Shinzo everything.

“She’s stable,” Shinzo stated, motioning for everyone to come into the room.

Aiden followed behind Rector like a little kid afraid of going to the store for the first time. He shambled through the doorway and saw his little gremlin back in her original body. She was frightfully corpse-pale and he nearly shouted. He bit his lips to the point of bleeding to stop himself from causing a ruckus; if he was any dumber, he would've thought she was dead.

Internally he beat himself up over his stupidity. She wasn’t dead, she was okay, she was fine, she was going to live. These thoughts, though, did little to soothe him so he stuck close to Rector.

Just like a little kid clinging to Dad’s sleeve.

The Journey glanced so fast that he almost didn’t caught it. “For her small size, she’s the toughest warrior I’ve seen, Angels,” she commented as she approached her bedside. She said that for Aiden.

He didn’t respond.

So Shinzo continued, “I’ve managed to temporarily subdue her condition through the available treatments I have.” Giving her your blood. “But I need to constantly monitor her so she doesn’t suddenly deteriorate again. Her future isn’t certain until the Barrier drops and she receives full medical attention.”

Aiden sucked in the blood that seeped from his cut lips. “Don’tcha have Martials?”

“Martials?” Abruptly the Journey of Healing snatched off her robes and tossed them aside, revealing unexpectedly casual clothing underneath: a blouse tucked into some pants, something a lady might wear while doing errands. “I made the decision to step down from my position as a Journey and leave the guild.”

The three Slayers glanced at each other, unsure what to say.

Shinzo elaborated, “I’m no longer under that demon’s orders. I know that alone is not enough for you to trust me, so I have a rational argument—”

“It’s not necessary for you to make your case, Shinzo,” Rector told her, bowing his head in gratitude. “Angels Guild is in your debt. Please, if there’s anything you want from us, ask. I’m not one to make big promises but Chie is ours.”

Shinzo sighed, resting a hand on her cheek. “You know I don’t like being thanked. Shoving an IOU as big as that into my hands makes me nervous, but I’ll have a conversation with that former founder of yours and see if we can come to an agreement. After, of course, we finish our business.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Levin glanced around the room as though she was physically searching for other items on the list. “So everything's good?”

Aiden shrugged. “As they can be.”

Despite himself, he walked up to Chie, wanting to see how bad it was personally. Yeah, it was pretty bad. She was ugly unlike [Izanami-no-Mikoto]. The goddess was doll-like, beautiful, and divine; Chie was pale, sweaty, and corpse-like. This was the price she paid in order to be the big damn hero.

Aiden hovered a hand over her forehead and stared at her through the gaps between his fingers, hesitant. He could still hear the shouting when she collapsed.

Shakily, he lowered his hand and instead had his clammy fingers grip on the hard plastic frame of the cot.

“…We still got monsters left, yeah? ‘Til we can drop the Barrier?”

Rector affirmed, “That’s right.”

“Let’s kill ‘em.”

~~~

Jin Tiehan of Martials Guild took it upon himself to investigate the status of his father, who had volunteered to combat the Diminutive Cosmic Beast which consumed Ikeya, alone. Only now could the Vice Guild Master depart after recovering from his defeat against Kreutz. If it had been any other foe, it would be a shameful loss and a magnificent blow to his reputation, but this was one of the few instances where almost no one would recount this humiliation negatively.

The Sungrazers may be vanquished and the Cosmic Beasts banished but Ordo had to secure the city before they could drop the Barrier. At any moment, they were going to reach Father first—that couldn’t happen. Not until Jin Tiehan could confirm a few details.

First of all, his father’s victory was obvious. Bronzehall Avenue did not exist anymore. Alongside other streets and avenues. From the battle, an entire chunk of Dawns was erased from the map, just nothing but rubble where Jin Tiehan walked on top like a desert. In the desolation there was a single notable landmark: the fallen corpse of a Cosmic Beast, its starry skin having lost its cosmic luster like a lightbulb without the light. It had been split in half, resting in a lake of its own blood. The interior was revealed: a pink goo oozed thickly, mixing in with the ichor.

Jin Tiehan stopped himself from theorizing what the ‘goo’ was for the sake of his own sanity. He was unimpressed with most things but this frankly disturbed him.

Many chunks were scattered across the dust. He stepped over them one-by-one, following the trail until an elder was spotted sitting against one of the few still-standing walls left. It had been a wall, but it appeared more as a pillar.

[Father!] called Jin Tiehan, reaching Master Jin Junjie in no particular hurry like he was on a daily walk. He kneeled and observed him. Father was in a poor state like Fragment Carn, though he was not covered top-to-bottom with bulging eyes. The Space Beyond had consumed his body as though it was a plague, dousing his skin in a bluish-black, bluish-purple shade. About half of his skin had been peeled off, revealing soft pink flesh underneath. That flesh was in the process of melting.

If he touched Father right now, then his finger would be drenched in a thick pink slop.

Which meant he had no chance of surviving.

Good.

[Tie…han…] muttered Father, finding his son but looking beyond him. [The… The—]

[You don’t have to speak any longer,] his son assured him. He thought about holding his father’s hand in his last moments but decided otherwise. Touching him was frankly disgusting considering his state. [Master Jin Junjie, the one who have brought me to this earth, you have prepared me for this before my conception. You will continue on, living inside the Ancestor Qi, and I will lead Martials Guild to an era grander. So please, pass on and join the late heirs.]

His words brought closure to the elder.

Master Jin Junjie took his final few breaths and had his perfected son as his last sight. Jin Tiehan could hear his father’s breaths. So quiet, so weak. He could feel his slowing heartbeats growing fainter and fainter. Then, without ceremony, he could not sense them anymore. Father no longer moved. The last embers of the current Guild Master were now extinguished, joining Archknell.

[GUILD STATUS]

DECEASED: Master Jin Junjie

A confirmation by the System.

Father was dead, that was that.

Jin Tiehan sighed and stood, dusting off his robes. Immediately the guild chats were in an uproar from the news, pinging Tiehan in the [Channels] and filling his [Private Messages]. Of all the perks of becoming the new Guild Master (technically Acting Guild Master until the ceremony formalized it), he looked forward to wrangling the immediate ruckus the least.

He ignored his guildmates harassing him relentlessly and instead entered a group call with two very important individuals.

“It is done,” he told Blackviper and Catalyst, dealing with their own matters across Ordo. “Father has passed and I am now the new Guild Master. Congratulations, Blackviper, for your new promotion.”

“Did your father say anything before his death?” asked the new Vice Guild Master, sounding neither bitter nor enthusiastic.

Jin Tiehan shook his head, although neither could see that. “He was minutes away from death when I arrived. There might have been a hint of sentimentality in his gaze but I was more fascinated in how the [Sacrifice] transformed his body. Really, this is a terrific outcome.”

“If you ignore that you were nearly killed by Kreutz,” added Catalyst.

“If we ignore that, yes.” Jin Tiehan smiled. “All those hours spent crafting a contingency of schemes: wasted. But it had brought us bounty we couldn’t have gained otherwise, and you even used your [Sacrifice], Catalyst. You must be pleased.”

The alchemist replied sourly, “Make sure you secure the ingredients, Guild Master Jin, before Seraph or one of her lackeys does.” Ingredients: my father’s corpse since he is technically a Fragment like Carn, and the Cosmic Beast. My, you may be more cold-hearted than me.

“I expected a hint of vulnerability from you, Catalyst.”

“Give me the bodies.”

Jin Tiehan sighed—Catalyst was difficult to charm. Much too difficult. He would’ve gotten rid of her if she wasn’t so useful. Her ambitions made her an easy target, anyhow; that was how she joined him in disposing Father without much argument. Yet she was completely self-interested. She had no sense of loyalty or companionship. Catalyst was dangerous. Dangerously valuable, dangerously cunning.

She could be the death of him if he kept his eyes off of her for a single second.

He huffed. “Blackviper, how is Conqueror?”

Blackviper answered, “Alive. He’s in a coma after slaying Kreutz. Whatever power he gained through his Second Emergence, Angels is in possession of it and they will not disclose information easily. Though I don’t think they know what he has until he wakes up.”

“I see.” Conqueror, you have surpassed my expectations and more. I never would’ve expected you to create an [Honor]—at least that is what I assume—that gave you the capability to slay entities from the Space Beyond. “Monitor our rivals closely as always, but our main priority is managing the guild and stabilizing Ordo so the Barrier can fall sooner.”

“Yes, Guild Master.”

“Alright, that’s not my job. Ping me if you need me.”

Catalyst left the call, leaving the two new leaders to talk amongst themselves. Always in a hurry.

Jin Tiehan took one good look at the man who’d gone through so much effort to create the Perfected Cultivator. Searching for the perfect woman, creating perfect regiments and curriculums, imparting perfect wisdom. That was his father, speaking as not his son but as a machine viewing his creator. That man was dead.

For some reason, the machine never experienced anything this unusually satisfying before. He didn’t hate Father, he didn’t resent him or loathe him. Father was not a tyrant—well, Jin Tiehan was not a rebellious son to warrant tyranny—so what was it about his death that brought joy?

He asked out loud, in Mandarin, [Am I supposed to be happy that my father is dead?]

[You’re asking the wrong person,] said Blackviper.

[I suppose I am.] He shook his head and thought nothing else of it. [I’ll call in our people and transport these ‘ingredients’ to Catalyst. As the first act you’ll do as the new Vice Guild Master, calm our guildmates down and explain what happened.]

[Yessir.]

~~~

“We’re here, Devoy,” Damien greeted the Void God enthusiastically but no one here shared his high spirits. Monarch was not particularly pleased with this arrangement, nor was White Herald, and especially not the killer nun Votary.

Devoy had been instrumental in freeing Ordo from the Sungrazers’ implements and aiding the Superweapon’s transportation. His aid came at a price: in exchange for subjugating the cosmic beings, he was promised one of the universe splitters, a device used by the Comets in their human forms to open portals.

After confirming that the Kreutz Sungrazers and the Cosmic Beasts were slain, Seraph ordered the four Slayers to complete the deal. This was the best time to do so, when the Ordo Outbreak Barrier was still up and the eight-fourteens from the Global Guards couldn’t begin their lengthy investigations.

Once they came into the picture, they were going to destroy Ordo more than the Sungrazers—but that was Damien’s hatred talking.

They went to a designated drop-off location where they were given Tewfik’s universe splitter by an unsuspecting scientist ordered to not ask any questions. The splitter was contained in a sealed metal sword case enchanted with security magick; about thirty minutes later, they reconvened with the Void God in a private area where no one unnecessary would be around. For an added safety precaution, they had brought a device that emitted an isolation bubble that prevented most forms of eavesdropping and espionage.

In here, it was just them and the god.

As the contractor of the Void God, Damien held the case with his one hand (this thing was unreasonably heavy) and stepped out from the party. There would be no hidden tricks on their side as far as he was made aware of. Logically-speaking, trying to slay Devoy was a complicated way to commit suicide and unintentional genocide. Speaking as a half-human, logic was sometimes not their species’ strong-suits. While he trusted the Ordoians, it was always a good habit to remain skeptical. Some may call it ‘paranoia’, he would call it ‘intelligence’.

Devoy was motionlessly standing at the center of the courtyard, surrounded by trees whose leaves had been stripped bare from warfare. The grass was half-burnt, the benches and stone decorations were broken, but the sight of the apathetic god added a touch of surrealism that Damien admired.

“You arrived sooner than I anticipated,” said the god, his white gown swayed when a gentle breeze came. His black eyes tapered into an understandable suspicion, looking left then right. He seemed to be aware of the Slayers outside the isolation bubble but didn’t comment anything more.

“I’m not saying this out of disrespect, but we need you gone as soon as possible,” Damien replied, making certain of the three Slayers with him. “Monarch, White Herald, and Votary are here as… Well, think of them as Seraph’s representatives, making sure this deal proceeds as planned. Unless they have anything to say, this is formally our goodbye.”

Devoy waited for the Slayers to speak.

White Herald went forward. “To reiterate the terms, once the universe splitter is given to you and you have absorbed it, you will not come anywhere near our world.”

The god nodded. “Yes. I will not harm your world.”

Monarch followed, “The Angel voiced my concerns. Other than that, I have nothing to say. Let’s hurry up, Evenfall, we have more pressing business to attend to.”

“Let’s do it, then.” Knowing Votary obviously had nothing to contribute, no offense to her, Damien thrusted the box a few inches towards the Royal. She reached out, hesitated a moment, then placed five fingers on the coarse surface. A blue tint glowed from underneath her fingertips, then the lock pulsed a green light.

“It’s unlocked,” Damien walked Devoy through so they could be crystal clear. “I’ll open the case and reveal the splitter.”

Flipping the latches, he did.

Tewfik’s universe splitter was resting intact inside: a bony spine-like sword that should be better used as a spear. Good memories, weren’t they?

Devoy betrayed the slightest shock, cautiously observing the splitter from a few meters away. Was he surprised that the humans followed through on the deal so smoothly? Without any complications?

Curling a finger of his, the splitter was lifted from the case telekinetically, held vertically in the air.

The Slayers retreated a few steps backwards and Damien shut the case.

“The universe splitter, crafted by the Forger, allowing the Sungrazers to cross the multiverse with ease. One may wonder why such beings need these tools to permit such actions; the implications may be frightening once you consider them.” The splitter turned until it was pointed at Devoy. “The deal is done, nonetheless.”

He flicked his finger towards himself.

The splitter launched.

Damien expected it to impale Devoy through the heart, but instead it was absorbed into his body.

The effects were instantaneous. The Void God crumpled to his knees and began panting like a mad dog, his black hair curtains. Then he started to scream. Briefly blackened eyes shot between the gaps of his hair and sent chills down their spines. Instinctively everyone reached for their weapons, and Monarch was one breath away from ordering the men outside to break the bubble.

Damien was the only one who didn’t react gravely, instead dropping the case and chewing on his lip.

Devoy rolled on the ground and struggled and moaned. Damien’s certainty turned into worry then doubt, then great concern. Did he make a mistake? Did he overestimate the Void God’s resilience, or underestimate the intensity of the universe splitter itself?

Monarch raised, “Evenfall—”

“Unless he attacks us, do not deactivate the bubble.”

She did not like that decision and she had the complete authority to go against him. Damien half-expected to die in the next few seconds but she stayed her hand, intently observing the god twist around. Today was filled with surprises, wasn’t it?

It felt like hours watching him, but then his screams tittered into exasperated gasps, then heavy breaths, then quiet contemplation. Devoy laid on his back, sprawled out on the grass, taking some time to mentally appraise his new abilities.

He had successfully absorbed its power.

Everyone eased but remained ready. They did their part, now the Void God had to do his.

When he stood, the Slayers flinched. He took their reactions with the faintest amusement. “I survived the assimilation and can confirm that I now possess the capability to travel the multiverse unrestricted. The deal is complete. I suppose my gratitude is in order knowing how you humans appreciate such trivialities, so I will lend you a word of advice. In particular, for you, Scion.”

“Me?” Damien inquired, who had been internally cheering before his heart sunk, expecting the worst.

The Void God told him, “Do not trust the Almagest. Telescopium is an exception. Every Constellation is not to be relied on; they are worse things than the demon you see before you. The Tenth Constellation, the 106th Constellation, are but a couple you should be wary of the most.”

“The Almagest?” Monarch asked, switching between the half-demon and the god demon. “Who’s the Almagest?”

“I’m the last person you should ask,” responded Damien before bringing his attention to Devoy. “You knew about them this entire time? Why didn’t you tell us before?”

“This section of the greater universe is no longer my concern since I was imprisoned in that Pseudo-Universe. I am of the opinion that stepping a single foot into that place is futile and will net you countless banes to you and your homeworld. However considering you have now attracted the attention of the new Starking, you are beyond the point of no return. I wish you and your allies luck, Scion, how little my words hold. Live or die, the difference matters least to me.”

Devoy flicked his wrist and opened a portal behind him. Without as much as a wave, he stepped inside and the rift was gone. Whatever information he had about the Hundred Realms and the Almagest, he took that with him and departed from his earth. The future was set. The Void God could freely travel the multiverse, off to consume and destroy to his heart’s content as dictated by his natural physiological desires as the Void Demon. There was no telling how many lives he would take, how many worlds he would destroy.

To save billions of people, Ordo may have doomed trillions in the process.

Whoever would meet the god next, it was their responsibility to handle.

“Our business here has concluded,” White Herald told everyone hastily, revealing a crack in his calm demeanor. He had the same realization and it was beginning to eat at him.

Damien nodded and plucked the empty case off the ground. He was conflicted on how he should feel. Dread? Anger? Guilt? It was none of those: just plain confusion. “Here’s a reminder that we need to keep everything that was said here a secret. We’ll have a terrible time when the Guards receive leaked information about this.”

“But I can count at least a dozen times when someone might’ve been eavesdropping or spying on us,” Votary said.

“I know, that’s why I said ‘when’ and not ‘if’. The eight-fourteens, as much as I hate them, have some of the most thorough investigators in the world. Frankly? I think they already began their investigations and started to question Slayers through the System.”

Monarch grimaced. “We’ll have time before the Guards take action, but to prepare for the worst, we need to settle our affairs as quickly as possible. I’ll keep in close contact with Seraph and political contacts I know. Evenfall—“

“I’ll chat with my father,” he reassured.

“Good.” Monarch snapped her fingers and somehow the men outside heard. The isolation barrier was deactivated, revealing at least three dozen Slayers present. Multiple constructs were placed and the air had a sparkling, magical shine to it. They hadn’t been there when Damien and the others entered, but they had been hiding in case the worst possible scenario was realized.

Everyone began to dismantle their implements and remove evidence of this meeting, working efficiently to leave the area as fast as they could.

Monarch and White Herald walked together, speaking about their future plans regarding the Guards. Behind them were the two Baptists, and Votary was unusually introspective. Or expectedly unusual, because it had been a hectic week for the young prodigy. It was obvious what she was thinking about.

Damien leveraged the empty case against his back; times like these, he was glad that he was half-demon. His [Demon Cognition]—in other words, his innate biology—gave him little mental ammunition to care about the price they’d paid. Votary did, however. Monarch and White Herald and Seraph did.

While he could attempt to place himself in their shoes, figure out how a regular person capable of empathy and compassion would react to being complicit in multiversal-level extinction events, he found himself struggling. For one, nobody could comprehend the scale of the sin that was committed today like how the human mind wasn’t able to perceive a billion or a trillion as easily as the number ten. Secondly, intimate emotions emitted during moments like these were out of his wheelhouse.

Anyone else could console Votary.

The last person she wanted to hear from was a man fundamentally different from the rest of mankind.

Damien let out a small sigh, deciding to leave her be. He had to focus on himself and secure his own freedom. I guess I need to call Dad when I have the chance.

~~~

“I don’t think there’s any traces of Wonder,” Victor told the others after searching Flares for an hour. Seraph had ordered him and his team to scour the borough to see if they could recover any biological material from Wonder after its defeat; however, the high-rankers in charge of its subjugation had more or less obliterated it into literal dust.

As much as he respected Seraph and all, he was not going to grab a dustbin and begin brooming.

Kaiya smacked her lips having come to the same conclusion; knowing her, she probably tried for like fifteen minutes before realizing how useless it was then gave up. “Yeah, at least we recovered the Cosmic Beasts and the splitters or whatever you call ‘em.”

“But we’re gonna give one away to the Void God,” he reminded, gritting his teeth. He heavily disagreed with the decision but understood the rationale and context behind them. Didn’t have resources, didn’t have time, didn’t have jack shit. So the only decisions they had were letting trillions die or killing themselves.

Considering Ordo wasn’t turning into Void, he assumed the deal was going off without a hitch. Lucky them.

Chunhua leapt off the block of concrete she was sitting on, landing silently on the pads of her feet. “Let’s not argue about this, Victor; they already made their decision and we have to respect it.”

“I know, but I’m gonna complain as much as we can. I hope we don’t get into any trouble with the Guards, though; I’ve heard horror stories ‘bout the lengths they’d go to. Fuck, Damien didn’t help either and he barely explained anything with his uh…” Victor gestured vaguely with a hand, “...demon enslavement thing. I don’t really understand but I don’t fuckin’ understand anything these days.”

“Tell me ‘bout it,” Kaiya said, rubbing her face. Something got in her eye and she began to rub it out. “Ugh, I gotta ask something from you two: am I dreaming? Am I sleeping right now ‘cause I can’t actually believe it’s over. We really did it. We saved the city. We killed Pereyra and Tewfik, found Fragment Carn, killed Ikeya and Wonder and Kreutz. And Kreutz—!”

Kaiya let out a tired yet exclamatory sigh, slapping her legs.

Chunhua agreed full-heartedly, “I did not expect Alexander to wield that sort of power. I thought, when he had his Second Emergence, the Sungrazers had yet another card left to play.”

“Yeah, that asshole.” Victor crossed his arms. Of course Alexander had a Second Emergence and somehow earned a fucking [Honor]! Literally an E-Rank Pseudo got one. Victor was pretty sure he was the first Pseudo to create one; the only other Slayer who received an [Honor] earlier than him was Kosmos.

Kosmos.

Suffice to say, Victor was jealous and pissed off. It should’ve been him but you know what? Good for Alexander, he deserved everything coming for him. The Second Emergence, the [Honor], the coma.

Imagine if he actually entered Systemic Works instead of Economics. Alexander was already a celebrity on-campus; he’d be a legend had he taken that path instead. It was a damn shame. Professor Ichiken thought he was wasting his potential. The sentiment was shared amongst the professors.

Most of which were dead now. Only Professor Hei-ran was left. A good chunk of the department were dead because of Operation Scorcher. Deon was dead, and Victor had his shield. Yeah, the shitty fucking Disaster was over and that was the easy part. The hard part was knowing what the hell he was going to do with himself afterwards.

“...Hey,” Victor got his friends’ attention, “what’re you guys gonna do now? We kinda graduated. And I’m not talking about immediately after the Barrier’s down. I mean after we clean up and settle our stuff here.”

“Afterwards…?” Kaiya said to herself, thinking.

Chunhua sighed, putting a hand over her mouth. “I don’t know, but I would rather not return to China.”

“I’d rather not head back home either,” Kaiya admitted.

“It might be good to spend time with your family,” Victor told her.

She replied with nothing and looked down, and Victor, despite his awful social intelligence, knew he shouldn’t push further.

“Well…” he moved on, “...I might go back to the States. My family’s gonna want me there, probably. I always got the Excellent Eleven—Excellent Ten since I’m not counting Oasis. I’d be mighty popular, y’know. I might be a celebrity. Imagine it: ‘Victor Squared, a member of the Dawn Baptists that helped slay entities from the multiverse beyond!’ Book deals, interviews, morning shows, maybe a TV show and a movie in the far future.

“So if it’s anything, our future’s kinda set.”

“You’re really thinking about that now?” Kaiya murmured in a low voice.

Victor raised a hand to show he meant no harm. “I just wanna cheer you guys up, it’s all. We’re tight like thieves now.”

“There’s no honor amongst thieves,” Chunhua quietly countered.

“Okay, you didn’t have to hit me with that. I get it, our classes had an intense rivalry going on.” Classes which are kinda dead right now, literally and metaphorically. “But you guys get what I’m tryna say, right? Whatever you wanna do, whenever you need help, I’ll be there. I’m not gonna like what’s coming tomorrow or next week, so that means we need to stick together. Okay?”

The girls muttered an “Okay” together.

Awesome, there was nothing like trying to cheer up your depressed friends while you were kind of depressed yourself. Go team!

Luckily he didn’t have to force himself any further.

Professor Hei—Gul—came around with the soft, caring smile she usually wore. Victor reciprocated, thanking God every minute in every hour that she emerged relatively okay from Kreutz. Sure, she was walking with a limp and had a long list of injuries, but it was better than losing an arm or a leg.

Or dying, that too.

“Did you finish your mission yet?” she asked her kids.

They nodded and Chunhua was the first to answer, “We have. As you can tell, it’s impossible to recover Wonder.”

“That was obvious when we first got here,” remarked Hei-ran.

“Yeah, how did things go on your side?” asked Victor, looking down the street on both ends.

The high-ranker sighed and put a few fingers on her forehead, massaging a headache out. “As well as you expect. Since Seraph has entrusted Glory Guild in securing the area, you can imagine the fight. Even when Fenrir and Montana joined, I’d say the fighting got worse.”

“If Mystic’s gonna be a problem, then why didn’t Seraph order him to go somewhere else?” asked Kaiya.

“She did.” Hei-ran had a sarcastic smile. “Why did you think I spoke with the Glories in the first place? Mystic refused to listen and insisted he had to stay.”

“Why?”

“I stopped paying attention after the fifth excuse. If you ever find yourself as a Guild Master—big thing, I know—you need to kick men like Mystic out.”

“Honestly, I’d pull an Alex and kill him,” Victor said. Everyone had their own funny reaction to that information.

Hei-ran moved on, “On that note, Alex will be fine. I’ve gotten permission from Seraph to return to OU and, well, try to see where we can help. Dawns has been through a lot. It’s probably the most damaged borough of them all.”

“No kidding,” murmured Victor. “Tormented Flesh, Scorcher, Carn, and Ikeya.”

“Yup. Of course, if you have any other obligations, I won’t force you to come. Seraph wants you to take a break and attend to personal matters.”

No one here had business elsewhere. Their main connection was university, their home for three years. They were happy to come back.

~~~

“Silverhonor has no backbone and it’s gonna cost her,” Mark told Vernon as they were in the final stretch to the Encampment. They were walking the rest of the distance after teleporting in a few miles out, taking care of something for Seraph first.

“What d’ya mean?” asked Vernon, doing his best to focus on the conversation but his mind kept flashing back to Mom and Dad and Rose. The guys at the Encampment was still in the process of finding and identifying all of the missing Zeroes, and the Hugos were one of many families wanting an update.

To distract themselves, Glory Guild was brought up. Vernon couldn’t remember who did but it was probably him; two of the Big Four had major structural upheaval after the Disaster. Martials Guild was one with the confirmation of Master Jin Junjie’s death, but they were going to have an easier time since Righteous Jin Tiehan was destined to take his father’s place anyway. The real reality show was Glory Guild.

Speaking as a Head Officer of Royals, Mark explained his thoughts, “She has her closest supporters fighting her battles while she silently stands in the back. That’s not how a Guild Master behaves.”

“But Mystic’s definitely in the wrong here, I don’t think anyone can side with him,” said Vernon.

“No one’s gonna side with Mystic because of his rhetoric and he knows that.”

“Then why’s he fighting in the first place?”

“Think about it, you’re smart enough to answer your own question.”

Vernon fumed; the last thing he wanted to do was think but he might as well try. Mystic had been causing a problem for Glory Guild since Operation Scorcher, constantly and relentlessly undermining Silverhonor’s command. Mark said there was nothing substantial about his arguments—basically, he was arguing for the sake of arguing.

If it wasn’t a debate about logic and rhetoric, then it was…

“He’s tryin’ to humiliate her?”

“Yup,” affirmed Mark. “If your Guild Master shuts down facing constant internal conflict, then it reflects poorly on her leadership.”

“But she managed to lead Glory Guild through the Disaster.”

“Now she has to lead Glory Guild after the Disaster.” Mark chuckled despite himself. “Shit, Silverhonor has it the roughest. She’s an outworlder, she’s an amnesiac, she was dependent on Archknell, and now she’s one of the most powerful people in the city. Somehow she has to establish respect, remove tumors and parasites and leeches, and all that bullshit. Personally? I don’t think she’ll survive.”

Vernon looked down at the ground. “That’s harsh…”

Over the shoulders, Mark glared at him. “We’re Slayers, our careers are harsher. Our job is to maintain global stability and put personal matters second. Silverhonor barely managed to wrangle Glory Guild and that was with outside help; no one’s planning to help her when the Barrier comes down.”

“I know—”

“No, not really. You’ve survived the blood but you haven’t survived the tears. Respect and reputation is embedded in our culture; can’t handle that then you’re not cut out to be one of us. A good one, anyway. Remember that when the System finally takes away your status as a Pseudo-Slayer.”

Vernon gulped and nodded, feeling somewhat offended but kept his mouth shut. The brothers didn’t talk about anything else for the rest of the walk; they entered the Encampment through the broken gates. Because Mark was easily recognizable in public for being Royals, the guards let him through without issue.

From there it was a straight walk to Primordial Zero. Along the way, Vernon observed the damage done to the complex. Kreutz had stopped by knowing Alexander was stationed here; instead of trying to shoot the Comet down, everybody decided to hunker in bunkers and basements as it passed, chasing after its true target instead.

As a result the damage as a whole was minimal, in the sense that the Encampment wasn’t wiped off the map. Wherever Kreutz did strike, those buildings were gone. The streets were torn open and a rescue effort was on their way. It felt so weird. Vernon recognized a few of the buildings he passed and now they were gone. Wasn’t it this morning that the Baptists had come here?

It was just so freaking crazy.

Vernon kept looking around, letting every little thing distract him. Eventually his gaze-wandering had come to an end as he approached the familiar entrance building to Primordial Zero with Mark. There were an army of doctors and nurses storming in and out the front gates protected by armed guards.

Like before, the Hugos entered without difficulty. What immediately caught Vernon’s attention were the sides, where rows of white tarps lined the fence walls. They weren’t just white tarps, he realized, as he remembered the same sight in Ordo University. These were bodies. On them were stapled printer paper, having three items written in big black markers: real name, codename, and assigned number.

That was the first thing they checked.

Vernon was conflicted that he wasn’t majorly affected by the smell of death anymore. Neither the sight of loss, seeing families search for their missing loved ones. Or the sound of tragedy, hearing sobs break out amidst the operation. He’d experienced them countless times over.

And when he saw a familiar man standing absently in the middle of an aisle, a part of him cracked—the Disaster had came for all of them. What happened next took place in a muted world where sound deafened and words became vague. Everything became blurry and yet the two men in front of him were seen in great contrast against the fuzzy background.

What were they saying? What happened to Dad? His arm was in a sling and half his head was wrapped in bandages. His eyes were lightless and his mouth was permanently stuck a quarter-open as though he was in perpetual denial. He wasn’t addressing his eldest son at all. Mark shouted and shook his shoulders but Dad did not budge.

Why didn’t you talk to him? He was your favorite, everyone knew that. Mark lifted the Hugos from poverty and cemented himself in Ordoian history as a key member of Royals. So why weren’t you talking to him?

Why were you staring at the tarps?

Vernon followed Dad’s eyes to two bodies nearest to them.

On their chests were a stapled sheet of printer paper. Vernon recognized the names written on them.

“Mom…? Rose…?”

~~~

“Look at what the cat dragged in,” joked Jackhammer as Leona and Althea stepped inside the room. He had a radiating smile shamelessly dousing his pink teeth, his face scrunched between genuine joy and pain. He’d been right beside Alexander when the [Infused Spirit Core] went off and was lucky to survive the blast.

Both of them were lucky.

“Thought you kicked the bucket, Jack. You have no idea how much my brother would love that,” Althea said first, putting a hand on her hip. Leona mentally decided to step back from this conversation; only the Shens were intimately familiar with anyone from High Home. Like Jackhammer and Prominence.

“Look kiddo, I already had my daily quota of ‘I wish you were fuckin’ dead’ from Alex. I don’t need an overdose from his kid sister.” Jackhammer raised his hands after. “But genuinely, honest to God, I’m glad to see you two made it out. Some of the healers told me what happened: Second Emergence, an [Honor] creation, Kreutz is dead. So is the shielder that tagged along, but life’s fucking tough.”

“Yeah…” Althea sighed and glanced at Leona; they already went through the immediate grief. Leona was a conflicted mess: she was happy that Alexander awakened to his true potential; at the same time, she was terrified how close death was. Now conveniently, he could take a really long deep sleep and avoid all the responsibilities that came after.

An asshole to the end, that sounded like Alex.

Sounded like him…

Jackhammer blew raspberries to fill the silence and turned to Leona. “How much did he tell you ‘bout High Home?”

“The general details, nothing too specific,” she answered; like Hangzhou, Alexander hated the memories he created there. “He mentioned you once or twice in passing, but he did have many things to say about Prominence.”

“No kidding. Between you and me, Kreutz missed one but I guess I can be satisfied seeing him hop ‘round with one leg. Unfortunately it’s gonna be one awkward flight back to America; I already know Prominence wants us back home as soon as possible and honestly, I can’t disagree.”

Althea hummed. “Yeah.”

The three of them chatted more about Jackhammer’s future plans for a few minutes until the Slayer System alerted them of a new notification. Leona checked and Seraph wanted to speak in-person.

“Gotta leave?” asked Jackhammer, having read their faces. “Go ahead, you didn’t need to stop by. For what it’s worth, I hope Alex makes a full recovery.”

“Me too,” Althea said after a breathy sigh. “Me too.”

They left the Oasis there to rest, walking out onto the same neighborhood where Kreutz was defeated in. Like Wonder, its body was unrecoverable because a certain handsome young Slayer had evaporated it. Instead a recovery effort was launched, combing through the fallen buildings for any civilians or Slayers unluckily caught in the blast zone.

Leona kept hearing Conqueror pop up in quiet conversations amongst the workers and patrols. Word was spreading fast about his accomplishment; she was sure that the entire city knew about his Second Emergence, now. She almost couldn’t believe it. In the span of a week, Alexander had turned from a small celebrity in his university to a citywide phenomenon. In the next couple of days, his fame would be international.

Her Alexander, who had been such a dick to her when they first met. Her Alexander, who hid his vulnerabilities behind that witty tongue of his. Him, who continuously put his life at risk, trying to save as many people as he could, trying to redeem himself from what happened in Hangzhou. Alexander Shen, who was the hero of the damned city.

This wasn’t how she imagined it would end. She imagined a cheesy ending: the Baptists reunited with their charming commander, defeating Kreutz. There would be a big kiss with fireworks in the background, and the sun would shine brightly in its place and the world would spin for another day.

Instead she felt hideously alone again.

Because he was in a coma now.

He lost his right arm.

The doctors told Leona that he shouldn’t be alive. He had experienced a deathly power increase. His mana nervous system was overburdened. If he hadn’t fell into a coma, his body would’ve tore itself apart. Everything pointed to a certain death and yet he survived, probably because of the System, probably because of his Second Emergence.

It was just another impossible thing that happened, no big deal at this point.

The world had gotten scarier too. The downside of being an international celebrity, an internationally-recognized Slayer, was eyes. They were going to attract everyone across the globe. The Global Guards, the Phenomena Society, every mega-corporations and Fabel Guilds and every institution on the planet. Then there were the Almagest and the Hundred Realms.

They needed to navigate through these things in order to survive, in order to accomplish their clear yet distant mission: kill Sirius Aethfell.

How were they going to do it?

When will Alex wake up?

Will he ever wake up?

“...Leo,” someone called to her. It was just Althea. “Are you okay? If it’s ‘bout Alex—”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Leona told her flatly.

Althea’s eyes widened for some reason. “He’s gonna be alright—”

“Lovely.”

“Right, shutting up. I’m shutting up.” Althea looked straight ahead, occasionally making worried glances. She wanted to say something but she didn’t.

Leona, honestly, desired the silence of conversation.

She didn’t really want to think anymore, but unfortunately the world wasn’t kind to her wishes.

Of all times, why did that selfish bastard leave them alone now?

~~~

Almagest, Telescopium.

Void God, Devoy.

Aiden and Chie.

Martials Guild and Jin Tiehan; Glory and Silverhonor.

The Dawn Baptists and Conqueror.

Ariella.

Nathan was caught up with everything that transpired during the Disaster thanks to Initiate and Sera. They had explained the events as best as they could without eating too much of their time. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, being hit with one unexpected development after the other. He didn’t have time to beat himself up over what happened with Chie and Ariella, or contemplate the consequences of Master Jin Junjie’s and Archknell’s death, or anticipate what the Almagest was planning to do next now that they certainly had agents lurking.

Most of all, he had no idea what to do next.

It was one of those weird moments when you had a list of tasks that stretched for miles and the hardest part was figuring out the first step to take. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of people to talk to. Matters to settle and preparations to be made.

But it was that first step that tormented him.

What he truly wanted was to see Chie and Ariella again, but his duties as Kosmos had to come first.

“Thank you, Initiate, for coming here,” he said quietly. His hands were folded together. It was a gesture that signaled deep thought for his next move, but he was bluffing badly. If his helmet was off, Initiate would know his cards and fold on the spot.

“Yup.” Initiate bowed her head twice, once for him and the other for Sera. “I’ll be taking my leave. Message me if you need me.”

“I will,” Sera promised. “Close the door on your way out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As Initiate was heading for the open door, she stepped aside to let the next guests in, who coincidentally arrived at the perfect time: Leona Ahn and Althea Shen. The three exchanged quick hellos and goodbyes before the two young women settled properly into the private room, the door clicking shut behind them.

As Althea was about to greet Sera again, she noticed Nathan pulled up on the System and stiffened badly like a steel girder. A quiet but too loud “Oh shit!” left her lips, and she physically covered her mouth with two hands. Getting slightly pink in the cheeks, she tugged on Leona’s sleeve and whispered frantically in her ear.

Right, Initiate’s indifference made Nathan forget he was Kosmos.

This was the normal reaction for, uh, most people.

“Good afternoon, Kosmos,” Leona greeted him after Althea finished her whispering, who decided to partly hide herself behind the older woman. “You too, Seraph.”

“It’s good to see you both,” Sera said with a tired smile, stepping aside a little and gesturing towards the screen. “For you, Leona, while this isn’t the first time you met my husband, it is for Althea. Obviously he needs no introduction.”

Nathan held back a chuckle. “Sera, you make it sound like I’m a bigger deal—”

“How many times did we have this conversation?” she snapped.

“...I haven’t been counting.” He had been counting thanks to [Grand Battle Calculation]. It was in the thousands.

“Exactly, but you never learn to stop humiliating yourself by being too modest. At least you don’t do this professionally, otherwise your reputation as Kosmos would be down the toilet—”

“You’re flushing me in front of Alexander’s sister. I—You know what, let me take this dang thing off. It’s too hot in here.” Nathan wrapped his fingers along the underside of his helmet and popped it off in one smooth motion.

Kosmos, as the very professional image of the only SSS-Rank Slayer in the world, was surrounded by an aura of intrigue. It was intentionally crafted by himself, Sera, and Kashan—though if you ask any of them, they did ninety-five percent of the work because they did not trust Nathan with public relations whatsoever. They forced him in a full suit of armor, always to be worn when performing duties regardless of the setting.

Thus, although his real name of Nathan Hyun-Creed was known, the general public did not have easy access to the man behind the helmet.

Most would be taken aback by how simple yet handsome he looked. There was nothing immediately captivating, no features that naturally drew eyes; at most, you would give him a seconds-long glance on the street then continue on with your day. Nathan Hyun-Creed, plainly, had a head of soft, welcoming brown hair and beautiful green eyes, matched with a warm smile. That was the man that Sera had fallen in love with.

“Your…” Althea started, “...your daughter looks exactly like you. Respectfully, I mean.”

Nathan took that as a compliment; mentioning his daughter was an easy way to get him to smile. “Please don’t be nervous around me. Seriously, I try to not be a total monster when the mask is off. I should be be the one giving respect here anyway, Althea. You helped rescue my daughter when Primordial Zero is under attack; you don’t know the relief me and Sera felt. Thank you.”

“Ah…” Althea’s cheeks got only pinker. “Y-Yeah, no, it’s nothing big. Yeah.”

Sera gave Nathan a small smirk before moving on, “As much as I would love to have a conversation, we have important matters to attend to. General Subramanian says we might have the Barrier dropped late tonight or early tomorrow morning. When that happens, I will lose the absolute authority—one that was given to lead our Slayers during the crisis—and become a Guild Master again. You should expect the System to take away your Pseudo-Slayer status.

“Needless to say, there’s going to be a reckoning. I can’t say exactly what you have to do, but expect for virtually anything. We’ll need to rely on you two until things are sorted.”

Althea raised a hand. “Okay, but uhm, this has been on my mind: the Almagest. What are they? You never told us.”

Sera and Nathan exchanged a concerned glance before he took over: “A long story, but I prefer we tell the story when everyone is together.”

Meaning Alexander. The implication of his name darkened Leona’s eyes.

Nathan continued, “We won’t push any unreasonable mess onto you, but you’re officially apart of the conspiracy now. You and the rest of the Baptists, I suspect. As morbid as this is to say, congratulations on surviving one half of the life of a Slayer: hard combat; now, you need to survive the second half: politics and whatever comes after.

“And Leona?”

She picked up her head; she must’ve been half-listening.

“Because he’s sleeping, you need to run the show,” Nathan told her. “I’ll be counting on you, Celestial War Empress.”

“...Right,” Leona replied after a couple moments of quiet. “You can rely on me, Kosmos.”

“Nathan,” he corrected, making sure Althea received the same message. “Whenever we’re in private, you can call me ‘Nathan’. Things will be hard for a while, but we’ll survive together. I promise.“

ONTO THE AFTERMATH

SAGA 1.1: BASTION UNIVERSES, WELCOME TO THE CONSPIRACY

Author Retrospective Rambling: Saga 1 is finally fucking over

Hi, it's the author again. I've spoken within the chapter itself at the end of [METEORITE] which was the halfway point of Saga 1. Now, we're at the end and to be honest, it's hard to believe that I made it this far. Most authors would've probably given up and I frankly would've given up too but I'm what you call 'stupid'. You probably would've noticed my stupidity earlier in the story like for example, adding in ranks for individual skills 75% of the way through because I realized that I needed them. Or improvising most of the saga + the entire story. If you remember the retrospective at the halfway mark, then I believe I said that there is a lot more improvisation than you may believe; honestly, you probably see the cracks.

Moving on, let's talk about Starborn Night itself.

Jesus Christ, what did I get myself into? To begin, if I had to give myself a rating, I would give it a 6/10 for the following reasons.

1. So many characters: Like seriously, how many fucking characters did I introduce here? This has inevitably led into a bit of a POV sprawl (where some commenters had mentioned that at some point, it doesn't feel like Alexander's story anymore which is warranted criticism) during [METEORITE] and [SUPERNOVA] where it's this big massive battle with thousands of people partaking in it. The reason why this is a killer because I am an amateur 19yro author who has no idea what he's doing half the time; thus, dozens of important characters (varying in importance of course) inevitably leads to less time focused on the actual protagonist due to juggling everyone's developments.

2. Lack of actual planning: Have I mentioned that I'm a horrible improviser? Yeah, I didn't plan as much as I needed because 1) I didn't think I would get this far; 2) I procrastinate a lot; 3) My plans change too much. For example, during [VOYAGER], Carn was supposed to be the final boss. Alexander and Leona were supposed to have a 2v1 where Carn had been hit with contra-system (the System-disabling drug) but they still get their asses kicked. However, I remembered that the System do not tolerate traitorous activities. Another example was the ending actually. Alexander was supposed to head to Pillar Vesper and activate the Purge Protocol (which would self-destruct the Pillar) and escape barely out of the radius of certain death—then events play out as you've seen here. However however, I realized that it would go against the "message" of the story that the Power of Friendship beats everything! So instead, you have the ending as written: Alexander and the Baptists tried to reunite.

That's just me rambling about how plot can and will drastically change. Back to my original point: with adequate planning and proper foresight, I could've easily made things a bit tighter/have better pacing (like for example, making the time frame between [BANG] and [METEORITE] a lot more believable or at least make the progression better).

3. Prolonged action scenes: Well, not 'scenes' but 'arcs' as seen with [METEORITE] and [SUPERNOVA]. As it turns out, my writing stamina slows down significantly when I have to write extended battles. Now, this self-criticism is a lot more nit-picking because I was just not satisfied with the sentence-by-sentence writing. Perhaps this is me looking negatively during those hours, but I really did not like how some chapters in [METEORITE] ran longer than they should. There are some scenes that really shouldn't be there (i.e. the High Dominion scene in [SUPERNOVA] which ended up be for nothing, but by the time I realized it, it was way too late to edit/change anything). Because my stamina dragged, shit wasn't up to the standard I want. Simple as that.

4. Doing way too much: This focuses back on Point 1 and 2 where having too many characters + lack of planning made things really messy. I had to find a way to properly introduce the setting, add in some progression, some characterization and development, foreshadowing for future sagas, and have a coherent plot. Obviously, I had to make some sacrifices. There couldn't be much progression due to the circumstances, and after [METEORITE], I focused more on plot than fleshing out the characters otherwise shit will get way too long. It would be better if I had done a modicum more of planning and anticipate the hurdles ahead but nope.

Despite the things I've mentioned, I gave it a 6/10 because I think I handled it decently enough despite everything I had on my plate. It's good enough.

Now that subject is over, let's turn gears to the future. Saga 1.1 will feature the aftermath of the Ordo Disaster where everyone has to deal with the second half of a Slayer's life: politics. Slayers protect the world but oftentimes, the world itself can be their biggest obstacle. Here, you will see more of the organizations and key players on the global stage, including the Global Guards, an intergovernmental organization primarily concerning themselves on worldly security on an international scale. As you may expect, there'll be a lot less action and a lot more drama.

As for the structure of the story continuing forward, whole number Sagas will basically be main chapters directly battling Sirius Aethfell and his influence. Decimal Sagas are stuff that take place in-between. Some Sagas will be tense, some will be more Slice of Life, whatever I need. But you should also keep note of X.5 Sagas, where they will be important on their own right but not as big as whole numbers.

Now, the future has some obstacles in store for me. The biggest one is POV sprawl. The Dawn Baptists already have a lot of characters and the list will get bigger as the story develops. This is actually why I structured the story in Sagas/Arcs. Saga 1 has [Alexander, Leona, Althea, Vernon, and Damien] as the 'main cast'; however, for the beginning of Saga 1.1, you'll find that [Leona, Nathan] is going to inherit the protagonist roles while Alexander is in a coma (or that's what I plan).

It is completely infeasible to give everyone equal attention all the time. Absolutely not. So instead, the main cast will change according to each structured Saga. For example, there will be a Saga taking place in America, China, Korea, and Japan. As you can imagine, Chinese-based characters (like Chunhua) will be apart of the main cast in China, our Japanese characters will get more screen-time in Japan, and so on. Geography won't be the only metric obviously but this is the best way to divide word count without slowing everything down. Ultimately, this means that some characters will have little-to-none screen-time for extended periods of time. It's a consequence that I have to pay. Oh well, the alternative is worse.

But what about Alexander and his progression? The Dawn Baptists have so many characters and different progression paths that it's not like he can grow stronger as they grow—

Oh. Right. I gave him [Memento Arsenal], which allows him to grow stronger as he develops his relationships with his teammates and as they progress their powers. So Alexander will almost always be apart of the main cast as the MC.

Yeah, anyway one last thing: my break.

Saga 1.1 will begin on Monday, April 10th with an Extra Arc [PEACE], detailing the more peaceful days for the cast before the Ordo Disaster.

[PEACE] will be 5 chapters long uploaded on Monday (10th) through Friday (14th). Then the actual first Arc begins on April 17th, back on a MWF schedule.

Ok that's it. I'll leave you with some fun facts.

- Shen Xiuying's Memento, Yǔzhòu, means "universe" or "space". Kinda fitting right? But if you look at its Chinese characters (宇宙) then at Alexander's Chinese name (Jianyu, 建宇), something should immediately pop out. The 'yu' in 'Jianyu' is the same character as 'Yǔ' in 'Yǔzhòu'. Effectively, you can imagine this as Xiuying comparing his son to the universe. Obviously, this reference is not translatable in English and I'm not even sure if I did this right because I don't know Mandarin or Korean or Japanese and yet most of my fucking cast hail from those nationalities, what the fuck am I doing.

- Of the Constellations, I think the 73rd Constellation Draco is the coolest. So yeah, he's going to show up at some point. The 10th Constellation (which Devoy had mentioned in this chapter) is probably one of the strongest characters. Currently, there is one Constellation hiding amongst the currently introduced characters (introduced).

- This Saga is about 460,000 words long counting the retrospectives. Divide that by 128 (chapters), then each chapter is ~3600 words long. Wowzers.

- Saga 1.5 will be a murder mystery.

- I'm working on a side project that I might publish, might not. I don't know. It's a villainess otome isekai because that's my guilty pleasure.

anyway bye, thanks for reading. see you in one month