“Monster?” Deus murmured out, hesitating slightly. “I… I don’t think…”

All Roch could do was calmly exhale as a faint smile formed from his lips. “Whatever you are, I don’t think it really matters much, do you? Our world of Midnight holds such a vast collection of fellow freaks, you and I are but a drop of sand within a desert.”

Roch turned his attention elsewhere for a moment as he slowly paced toward a collection of old booklets and tomes that sat to one side of the darkened room. Shuffling through the many novels, opening one page after the other, he finally spoke in a soft tone, “The powers of Mir originate from an ancient power that descended countless years ago, during the war to end all wars… well, that seemed to have been the plan, at least.”

Deus and Droh listened as they wiped away the surprise from their faces. ‘I didn’t imagine he’d immediately start reading off from those books… an ancient war to end all wars?’

“There were two major factions participating in that ancient war, according to these stories, that is.” Roch lifted up an old book as he carried it over toward the other two, the page still sat open. He slowly began to paraphrase from the text, “This war involved some old primordial power that had planted it’s seeds of domination throughout multiple worlds, and an invading force, commanded by some old ancient conqueror.”

Roch sighed, “Seems even these old stories don’t have anything beyond such a basic explanation…”

“How long ago did this all occur, exactly?” Deus suddenly asked as the curiosity had unfortunately gotten the best of him.

“Hm? There are no exact dates, but according to what these stories have stated… I’d estimate this all occurred over a hundred thousand years prior to today.”

“A hundred… th-thousand…” Deus and Droh could only stutter out such a number in between choked pauses.

“What is so peculiar about the passage of a hundred thousand years?” Roch asked in a curious manner, his expression showing an almost teasing glance as his brows rose. “Indeed that is truly a long period of time, but it’s not as if such a passage of time would be impossible.”

He exhaled, shrugging he continued, “I myself am thousands of years old, you do know? I’ve lived for what felt like countless years, and yet here I am, still, just some prehistoric fool who has no choice but to read through old novels and tales in order to simply know what happened back then, and even after everything I’m still merely guessing.”

“Sir Roch,” Deus murmured out as he found speaking difficult under such immense pressure, “I’m sorry for being so presumptuous… but, you see, I’ve been referred to as a monster… some sort of abnormality… what does any of this mean? Why am I here, with you?”

“Hmph,” Roch stopped in place for a moment as he listened, pondering the question himself. “You are…” He didn’t know what to say or how to continue. He spoke with his elder, Cyoc, prior to this, but he was aware there were things he was unable to say.

“You are utterly unique.”

That was all he could say, for it was all he truly knew. A boy, probably at the latest being in his early twenties, chosen for the fate of becoming a God.

He was, absolutely, unique.

“Unique? What does that mean? What do you know about me that I… I don’t…” Deus choked out as his emotions began to get the best of him. “Fo-forgive me, Sir…”

Perhaps he had grown exhausted of being seen through, being told how odd and different he was without any further explanations. How had all of these people discovered anything about him, and what did they know that he himself did not.

Roch, the short-sized military captain, simply stood his ground and listened, his silence spoke volumes.

“Enough, you’ve been through quite a bit, and have still yet managed to recover from everything. Go, take that little faun with you and follow Joren back to your quarters, he’ll guide you. I’ll seek you out once I have a need for you.”

“Joren?” Deus repeated instantly, confused.

“I called him here before you arrived, he’s one of my men. You know, like Androma has those two little crows. I have my own people, too. You’ll find him waiting for you on your way out.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

With that, Roch turned back around and shrugged over, lifting up a small pile of books that sat on the ground.

As Deus opened the door to leave, he heard a single faint exclamation from behind them. There seemed to be no desire to continue any sort of discussion, nor any intention of involving Droh who stood to his side. More so as if it were a simple whisper, meant for only his ears alone. A lasting word of warning for the coming times, perhaps. “Be watchful of those who try to grow near to you, the walls have eyes.”

The door slowly closed behind them as Deus and Droh came to spot a new figure approach them from across the hall. “Greetings, I’ve been ordered to act as your guide and get you situated. My name is—”

“Joren,” Deus interrupted, nodding his head and smiling, “Thanks for this, I’m not sure what’s going on but having you here to help will be of great use.”

“Ah, yes of course…” Joren simply shrugged and continued, “It seems you know a little bit, which is good. As I said, I’ve been told to have you both situated, which means you’ll need to be registered and added to our Sword’s database. I imagine this won’t be of any issue.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Droh shook his head in response, to which Deus could only mimic his behavior. “If this is the will of the military captain, how could we possibly decline?”

The three of them walked on, moving through one hallway to the next until the arrived before a large double-sized door, towering a near eight meters in height alone. A simple sigil was engraved on the surface of the metallic door, a single sword etched downward. “Beyond this point is where I imagine you’ll be reporting for action and receiving orders from,” Joren continued, “Many from outside believe that the tower is hectic and violent… but in truth, everything functions rather efficiently and painlessly. The Sword is commanded from behind these doors.”

“So this is the Sword?” Deus scanned the door as his eyes fell back toward Joren, "So do the other two orders have their own rooms, similar to this one?"

"Mhm," he nodded in response, "You'll only need to know where this place is, for now. I imagine that you'll become more accustomed as time goes on. I should warn you, you've become quite the center of discussion amongst the other candidates."

"Candidates?" Deus and Droh both repeated simultaneously, to which Joren simply chortled and nodded, continuing, "Candidates for recruitment, to join the inner groups of the Sword, to serve directly under the great military captain. I'm one of those chosen, I've passed all of my tests and have been recruited. You're familiar with that woman, Evelien, yes? I'm what you’d consider her equivalent within the Sword. Our positions are fairly similar, and we on occasion assist one another."

"I see," Deus nodded in acknowledgment, "What does any of this have to do with me, though? I never went through any sort of recruitment phase..."

"Exactly."

"Forgive me, allow me to explain," Joren took notice of himself as he spoke, "Usually you'd need to undergo thorough training to simply be selected for the recruitment process, after all, anyone can join the guardsmen... but to join the inner sanctums of the Sword? Rare and elite, that is how people describe those chosen."

"You, however," Joren nodded toward Deus, "Have had your recruitment bypassed, and can be considered an official asset to the Sword, even without undergoing training or anything. You technically circumvented the entire recruitment process, and have even met and spoken with Master Roch one on one, already."

Deus began to understand what he meant. "So because I was a special case, some people have come to show a distaste for me? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Joren sighed, "I don't hold anything against you, because I'm already approved, but I imagine if I were in their case, I'd hate you too. There are limited spaces, and you just skipped them. We're not any type of team... each and every individual selected for this process are trained killers, specialized in destroying our targets."