Eighty Years Ago…

It was a lovely night on Azum-Ha.

Niain savored it as he strode across the roof of the Supreme Pavilion, grass crunching underfoot. This estate was one of the few examples of open space on the surface of Azum-Ha, and needless to say it was for the exclusive enjoyment of the Supreme. Even when he’d been alive, Henri had never had cause to come here, so Niain used it for his own purposes.

Whistling to himself, he looked at the skyscrapers lining the horizon. This place was meant to be free of the hustle-and-bustle of the city, but when you got down to it, it wasn't free at all, was it? The hustle-and-bustle was still right there, buildings forming bars, locking you in. Especially now that the Dawn Contest was coming towards the final stages. The mistake was crushing inwards.

It was the furthest from freedom you could get. How sad! Niain smiled.

“How’s my Knight, Smith?” he asked the cold and empty air.

The answer came in something not quite language and from something not quite human, through something that was not quite a mouth.

Your children have fully infested his form, my King, Smith replied politely. Your Knight can come into existence at any time of your choosing. Shall we make it so?

“Not yet,” Niain murmured, lingering at the edge of the roof. “It'd be more interesting if he ran around for a while before suddenly betraying the Supremacy, don't you think, hm?”

Your wisdom is evident.

Niain smiled. Smith was so funny. The thing wasn't Niain's first friend, but it was surely the one he was most fond of.

Still smiling, Niain glanced down at the ground far below. If an ordinary person were to jump from this height, would they die? One would surely think so, but death was rarely guaranteed. Even when someone shot themselves in the head, they sometimes lingered and suffered for a time. Perhaps the world had shot itself in the head long ago, and now lingered and suffered.

It was a depressing thought, but sometimes depressing thoughts were correct. You couldn’t disregard a hypothesis based purely on your emotional response. Niain sighed.

“How many are there, by the way?” he asked.

Sixteen.

“Wow!” Niain raised his eyebrows. “That's not a lot.”

The sky flashed black -- then gold -- and then, in the moment before it turned black again…

…lightning struck -- and kept striking, scorching the part of the roof Niain was standing on like a golden finger driving its nail into the earth. The sound was deafening. The light was blinding. Surely no living thing exposed to such a force could escape unharmed.

As the bolt finally flickered and stuttered out of existence, Niain escaped unharmed.

At the last second, he'd created a shield around himself -- a jet-black dome composed of a material that looked like graphite. It wasn't graphite, of course -- that conducted electricity and would have been a terrible choice -- but Niain enjoyed the aesthetic of it. He devoured the barrier with his right hand, reclaiming the material.

“Haha, that was pretty dangerous,” he chuckled, looking at the new arrivals. “Why'd you do that?”

Three figures floated in the sky above Niain, none of them human. Their bodies were composed of wood, their joints visible, their sculpted faces blank. Mere puppets, to put it simply… but maybe mere wasn't the best word to use?

The one at the front of the group looked down at Niain. Its jaw slid open and words rang forth.

“Spawn of the devil,” it said with the voice of another. “This is as far as you go.”

Niain scratched his cheek with an index finger. He'd suspected who he was dealing with, but now he knew for sure.

What a pleasant surprise.

NEBULA ONE

Ludwig Lanark

“Emperor of Puppets”

Nebula of the Lesser Chain

Nebula One wasn't actually here, of course -- there'd be no need for that. Most likely he was relaxing back on Serendipity, controlling this encounter from afar. Even so, he'd certainly gone all out on the preparations.

The Apex-wooden puppet glaring down at Niain was equipped with no less than three top-tier Aether Armaments. The Red Lion Mantle was wrapped around its shoulders, billowing regally in the wind. It held the dread-trident Blaidd Mawr Drrgg in one hand, oil dripping menacingly from the teeth. The black lens of an Anger Glass glinted from its left eye-socket -- now that was a rare find!

With such high quality equipment, this one puppet alone would have been a match for most participants in this Dawn Contest. What a wonderful ability! Niain found himself jealous.

“Number One,” he called out. ‘What a surprise! It looks like I've annoyed you somehow… or have I annoyed the Prince?”

He could imagine the look on Ludwig's face hearing that. Nebula One had a strange resentment for the ability that had given him so much. Niain couldn't comprehend that at all -- whenever he thought about the Prince, the final legacy of the man who’d discovered Aether, he found himself quite glum.

Rejection was no fun, after all.

Still, Niain could feel that strange anger radiating from the puppets slowly surrounding him. A few had emerged onto the rooftop behind him -- one like a centaur, holding a lance sparking with electricity. That one must have attacked first.

Nebula One’s secondary ability -- the Prince was superior, needless to say -- were these puppets. By combining Aether Armaments and these figures of Apex wood, Ludwig could create high-level fighters that he could control remotely -- from any distance. His ability alone had helped deter Henri from launching large assaults on UAP territory.

Ludwig wouldn’t be carrying on a conversation today, it seemed. No doubt the Prince had cautioned him against it. Such wisdom!

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Oh dear,” Niain chuckled, realizing he was going to get no answer. “Are you surrounding me right now? I bet you've got more than these waiting, huh? I wonder where they are, haha…”

With that prompt, Smith activated Searchlight. It was one of the most useful abilities that he had acquired: essentially, a mobile equivalent to an Aether ping, allowing Smith to detect and analyze anything he placed it over. In most cases, it was even able to pierce through Aether cloaking.

Seven surrounding you on the roof, my King, Smith advised. Six more on the floor directly below, ready to ambush if you try to escape. Three watching from a distance -- they are long-range attackers who'll strike while you fight the others.

I see. To be honest, he'd expected more from Nebula One. Was this really the best plan that the Prince could put together? Perhaps Ludwig hadn't listened to his wonderful ability until it was too late.

Ideally, Nebula One should have brought in large numbers of disposable humans, to overwhelm Niain with numbers while the puppets struck at his weaknesses. It would have cost many lives, sure, but that was to be expected. Their game was played with human currency.

Niain understood that.

The Prince understood that.

Even that woman understood that.

As the puppets rushed in as one, Niain sighed. It seemed Nebula One needed reminding. Black Aether hissed.

Floating beneath Niain's left hand appeared a pure black orb, hovering ominously. Angra Mainyu.

Below Niain's right hand appeared an orb just as white, like the ideal of a snowball. Ahura Mazda.

Recording and manifestation.

Destruction and creation.

The end… and the beginning.

Niain smiled.

“We’ll have to make this quick -- I have a match in a few hours.”

AETHERAL SPACE

ARC 13

PART 3: GREED

Present Day…

What… what is this?

I'm standing here. I ran back as fast as I could. This doesn't make any sense. I should have made it in time. I ran back as fast as I could. There's dust everywhere. Ellis. Alice. Rex. Where are they?

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

That man said that and turned into dust. There's dust everywhere. Why did he do that? No, it wasn't him who did it. He sounded like Rex. Who was he? He couldn't have been Rex. Rex isn't dead.

Ellis. Alice. Rex. There's dust everywhere. Who put all this dust everywhere? Is there a duststorm?

Fucking idiot. Moron. You know there isn't a duststorm. Use your eyes. You know what's going on here. Why do you even have a brain if you refuse to use it?

There's dust everywhere. Ellis. Alice. Rex.

“I'll join up so long as you don't make me work too hard…”

“This is only temporary until my show takes off! I want to make that clear!”

“Sure. I think we can do business together.”

Someone said those things. Ellis. Alice. Rex. My… my friends. That couldn't have been Rex. Rex isn't dead. There's dust everywhere. That dust couldn't be… it couldn't be, could it?

You know it is. You let it happen again. Ellis. Alice. Rex. They're all dead, because of you.

But why? How?

Because of you. Just like Robin. Just like Skipper. You're a fucking plague. Why don't you just find a corner and die like the animal you are?

I blink. I'm unsteady on my feet. I feel sick. There's dust on my face. There's dust everywhere. Ellis. Alice. Rex.

Ruditia.

Rae Ruditia. She's standing there. I just noticed her. I noticed her first, but I forgot, and now I noticed her again. She's wearing a weird outfit, manifesting it from her pink Aether (pink like Alice's, right?). Flowing frills and an elegant crook, like a shepherd drenched in nobility. What a weird outfit. I laugh. It sounds like I'm choking.

She cocks her head at me. She's got something to say. Is she going to tell me where everyone's gone? Ellis. Alice. Rex.

You know where they went.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Why would that guy say that? I might have gotten the wrong idea. I might have thought that was Rex. There's dust everywhere.

That's not dust.

Ruditia speaks.

“What's wrong?” she asks me. “Did you not recognise him without the mask? That was Rex I just killed.”

No, no, no, no, no.

Yes.

That's not possible. That's not what Rex looks like. He wouldn't just die like that -- like flipping a switch. He's just not able to. There's no way.

What do you know? What did you know about him -- or Ellis, or Alice? You didn't care about them. You dragged them here against their will so you could find Dragan.

He's abandoned you, too, and he was right to. Everything you touch turns to shit. You're disgusting.

Shut up.

Bruno and Serena don't care about you either. If they did, they'd be here, and they'd be dead. Like Robin. Like Skipper. Ellis. Alice. Rex. You failed them all. It's all you're capable of.

Shut up!

What was it you thought? Did you think you could build something for yourself? A life, right? That's what you thought. While the rest of the world is burning, you thought you could live just for yourself, you selfish bitch.

I… my friends…

You don't have any friends, not anymore. They've either thrown you away or been killed. This was bound to happen eventually. You're not cut out to be a human being. Look at you.

Who could love you? Even your parents didn't want you. Tossed you away like garbage. It was a mercy they died long before seeing you now.

I…

I…

I…

My mouth opens, my voice quiet. It feels like I haven't spoken in a thousand years. It feels like I've been speaking for a thousand years. My throat is raw. It's made of blood.

“Why have you done this?” I ask.

It's a genuine question. I need to know. Ellis. Alice. Rex. They're dead, they're dead, they're dead, they're dead… and all that's left of them is dust. There's dust on my face. There's dust everywhere.

I feel sick.

Ruditia cocks her head. Did she not hear me? I ask again.

“Why have you done this?”

This time, she smiles. There's dust everywhere. There's dust everywhere, and she smiles. Ellis. Alice. Rex. She's smiling. She killed them, and she's smiling.

She's smiling.

Smiling, smiling, smiling. Wipe that smile off your face. Don't you dare. Don't you dare look like that. Don't you dare exist here. Don't you dare, don't you dare, don't you dare.

She answers me. Her voice echoes through the space like it rules here. A queen of ashes. A queen of dust. Ellis. Alice. Rex. All my thoughts are regicide.

“Why?” she asks, like it's a stupid question. “For you, Ruth. So you can reach your full potential. You hate me right now, don't you?”

All you can do is hate.

“Take that fuel, and use it to grow stronger…”

That's the only thing you can do. From the very start, you weren't cut out to be a human being. You're a beast. A wild animal.

She wipes a tear from my cheek with a tender thumb. “...my Supreme.”

The only thing you're good for…

My hair shines like fire.

“I see,” I whisper. “Die.”

…is fighting.

“Monarque Set.”