Once again, Rem found himself sitting on the edge multicolor platform. The night skies twinkled above, filled with more stars than humanities' hope and dream. He nodded, satisfied. After much pain and blood, they were victorious. 

However, the embodiment of all good was still frowning disapprovingly at Rem. Satholia held a stern look that would be fitting as a national flag for the Federation of Angry Moms.

Upon seeing that, Rem was terrified. Deep down, he was begging for another Paracis, facing a brain-jacking plant was more comfortable than whatever this is.

Lamentably, no Paracis came to save him from the scolding.

"Tell me what you did wrong, young man," Sathalia clicked her tongue with disapproval. Her brilliant eyes stabbed deep into his chest like a harpoon.

Rem contemplated for a second. He had no plan, so the truth it was.

"I sold my soul," Rem confessed.

"Yes," Satholia nodded sternly. "Sold. Your. Soul. I know you did it for a good reason, but I never order you to risk your life AND afterlife." 

Satholia closed her eyes and let out a tired sigh. "To be honest, I am glad you did. We wouldn't win otherwise, but your life is precious too, Rem. Please take proper care of it."

Rem breathed in deeply, and he asked.

"Do you know how to stop the Center Force from taking over?" Rem looked at his hand and imagined it fading to nothingness. How would the corruption end? Would he become an immortal zombie, traveling mindlessly like a suicide bomber? Or would he function as a white-blood-cell? An immune system programmed to destroy a threat and self-destructed in the aftermath.

Rem grimaced. It was a perfect end for an idiot who cut a deal with the unfeeling angel.

But the fool had no regret, given the same choice he would do it again.

"I accept what happened," Rem looked toward Satholia. The smile wiped from his face. "Like you said. I will treasure my life, but I can't guarantee I won't resort to [Arrival of Dream] again if worse come to worse."

 Satholia looked down at the platform, contemplating the problem.

"I might work something out," Satholia said after a moment. "Even now, I barely reorganize 15% of the Center Force. There might be some hope."

"I think a 'but' is coming." Rem asserted.

"But by the time I find something, you will be long gone." Satholia shook her head. "I believe I might find something in ten years, but you have at most five years without additional usage of [Arrival of Dream]."

"No way," Rem resigned to the reality. "Given what I am up against, the best I can do is limit its uses."

"Don't worry about me," Rem said, mentally shoving down his stress. "I made the purchase, and I know the price. It's not your fault."

Satholia threw a motherly look at Rem as the young man's body started to glow white.

"Is it painful?" Satholia said. "I know what your life is like, but I am never in that position myself, so I can never relate. But do you want to talk about it?"

Rem's glowing body went still as a corpse. His hands stilled as the loneliness resurfaced.

"It was lonely at first, but after a while, I am just disappointed." Rem nodded in acceptance. "Let put the past aside and focus on the future. Whom do we recruit next?"

Satholia responded sadly at the young man glowing with light. He looked tired--too tired for sixteen-year-old. The mirthless attitude could either mean calmness or indifference. She was willing to bet the later was seeping in.

It wouldn't be right to burden him, but this was his redemption--an apology to the ideal he worshipped. A final debt he could repay to the world.

"Go to Millian," Satholia requested, cursing her clairvoyance and herself for this entire catastrophe. "Find the Hidden Princess and the Duchess of the Craft. Scathach will know who I am referring too."

Rem glanced up at his patron in horror.

"Another girl?" He said, "Are you setting me up for a harem? Is my lifespan doesn't have enough time limit? The--"

Before Rem could finish his sentence, he got transported away from the platform.

Satholia muttered apologetically to the thin air.

"Sorry, Rem, but I need you to cope with the 3:1 ratio for a few months."

...

Rem woke up in the bed in a very familiar room; it was his room abroad the Black Mercy. 

The room was a little shoebox with shelves abundant with empty air, a moderately comfortable bed, and a cupboard packed with a series of black yukata.

Thankfully, Rem was used to Japan. His family went there once a year until his mother got a divorce.

The young man dragged himself off the bed and put on one of the yukata. He tied the sash up into an untidy knot, before putting on a black badger's shaped slipper (Scathach had one strange taste).

Rem walked out of the room to find the weirdest scene in his life.

An elf and a goddess in maid costumes were hosting the badger.

Scathach was sitting on the sofa, drinking tea as two girls in maid uniforms attended her. Rem arrived just in time to find Luxinna pouring coffee and bowing politely. Meanwhile, Cytortia finished preparing a fish-fillet, served with succulent red-wine-sauce, on a plate neatly adorned with neatly oriented marsh potato and charcoal-grilled vegetables.

The two maids finally notice him, and they were horrified.

Luxinna's chaotic hair was unnaturally smooth. Rem needed to admit the new look mixed too well with her lily-pattern apron and Navy Blue uniform. Cytortia's costume, on the other hand, was themed around sunflower and yellow-green fabrics. Although Luxinna beat her in the weaponry, Cytortia made up for her assets with glasses, high-heels, and extravagant earrings.

"We can explain this?!" Luxinna tried to hide behind the silvers platter she was holding.

"Yes! We--" Cytortia began, and then the realization hit home. "Wait! When did you wake up? You have been sleeping for an entire day. Are you okay?"

Rem ignored all of that.

"I am perfectly fine; just finished the maid training," Rem winked. "Scathach! You had an excellent business choice! Keep it up!"

The young man walked back into his room, leaving the girls horrified.

Stolen novel; please report.

Unbeknownst to them, he was screaming internally about all the harem-inflicted damage he was about to suffer.

...

The gang met up again on the table. It was a small table which was now overly crowded.

Rem remained silent. Scathach was meditating and smirking. Luxinna, still in her maid uniform, fiddled uncomfortably. Cytortia looked at the assembled cast and finally decided to speak up.

But someone, still wearing her maid dress, beat her to it.

"I thank everyone for saving me," Luxinna bowed her head down.

Rem glance at the windows. He forced himself to remain as natural as possible. The elf didn't need to know about the strand of white invading into his hair.

"It's the right thing; think nothing of it," Rem's dead eyes flashed rainbow for an instant.

After that short exchange, the goddess finally mustered her courage.

"Okay, now that we got Luxinna and left the elves behind-"

Luxinna sulked subtlely.

"Are you okay with that?" Scathach said in a rare gesture of concern.

The elf sighed.

"I don't know," Luxinna said, looking back at the forest that was already out of her sight. "I try not to think about it. There is nothing left for me in the forest or Lightwell, but it was my home for a long time. I am going to miss it."

"And you come anyway," Rem concluded.

Luxinna glared at him.

"Because you owe me a punch in the face. Plus, I need to make sure that a bastard like you ever step near my sister or anyone else," with that, she triumphantly smiled at the emotionless young's man.

"Protecting others is the duty of a knight. Do you think I would let a walking time-bomb like you go easily?" Luxinna announced. Her voice was still shaky, but the prior bitterness had vanished. She was no longer slouching but instead held her head proud and high. Finally, after three years inside the labyrinth of broken wishes, Luxinna was free.

Rem witnessed that smiled sparkled like lightning bolt, and he let out a tiny smirk of his own.

All his sacrifice was worth it.

Finally, the Exile Lighting had a home.

Sadly, the recruitment drive wasn't over.

"Yes, about that," Rem said. "We had a problem."

He told them about Millian and their newest mission.

When he finished, the reaction was worrying.

Cytortia shoved her head in a pillow and screamed. Their organization's chef and unofficial leader must know something. Meanwhile, Luxinna looked lost. It wasn't surprising given that she never left Lightwell all her life.

Much to everyone's surprise, Scathach lost her mind.

"The Duchess of the Craft?" Scathach barely believed her own words. "Are you sure Satholia said that?"

"Positive," Rem answered.

"I believe she is dead," Scathach blanked out. "She is alive? After all this time..."

"Who is she?" Luxinna asked.

"Ebony Solarmaria," Cytortia answered with a traumatic sob. "She is Kar'Dia's idol and one of the greatest blacksmith in known history. That love-struck stuck-up wouldn't shut up about her. Oh god, this is horrific."

The goddess shoved her head further into the pillow.

"She isn't that bad," Scathach moaned. "Are you sure it is Millian? That place was on the opposite end of the continent. It will take us a while to get there."

"I am sure," Rem nodded, looking at everyone. "But right now, we need a re-structure. The only two reasons all of us are sitting happily right now are pure luck and divine intervention. We can't afford to do this every time."

Cytortia glanced at the sun-roof dejectedly. Meanwhile, Luxina's expression faltered. The mission was a resounding success, but the brush with death was too close for comfort.

Beside him, Scathach agreed.

"Yes, you are lucky," The badger said. "Too Lucky. If Luxinna got taken over earlier, or if you failed to regroup with Cytortia, you would be screwed. It took a manifestation of good bailing you out to call a victory. You guys cannot depend on plot-armor to rescue you forever."

"We need a re-org," Rem said. "No, we don't even have an organization in the first place."

Cytortia looked like she was about to crawl into a hole. The poor maiden was handling too much pressure.

"How do we build an organization," Luxinna looked around. "There are only three of us here. My father alone can end us all. How can we expect to fight him and then the world?"

With that phrase, Cytortia's head perked up. A particular speech flashed into her head and brought clarity to her world.

"Rem, do you remember what you said about ideal?" Cytortia proposed. "Why don't we start with that?"

Rem looked confused, but Luxinna excitedly clapped her hand with approval.

"Yeah!" She shouted. "That could work! That is how we won in the end, right? That is how Satholia did it. She proved the Paracis wrong and showed me there's still hope. I think we can use that as a guideline."

Scathach shivered; this was not going well.

Cytortia nodded. She kept playing specific images in her mind. A man knew what he was walking into, terrified by it, but still marched to face certain death without wanting any reward or glory. He looked at the world with disappointment, but because of that, he appreciated all the good it could give.

Nearby her, the elf was also reminiscing. She couldn't remember the event clearly from her time as corrupted, but she recalled how fear replaced her glee. Luxinna finally deduced how that happened. 

Rem very existence terrified the Paracis to its core.

"Rem, what is your ideal?" Luxinna said. "You have one, right?"

Rem pondered about the twelve-year-old Rem Breaker.

He was someone who once saw only the worse in people, and it left him with no one. In that loneliness, he discovered the ideal that made him who he was today. It was naive and outdated but still more beautiful in any gems in the world.

Is it fitting that a boy who stared into the abyss got rescued by the Superhero?

"It is childish," Rem said tonelessly. "But if you want to hear it, I can tell you."

Luxinna opened the drawer and produced a pack of popcorn. She ripped the bag opened and inhaled greedily.

"Earth is never great," Rem narrated with nostalgia. "The economy randomly tanks from time-to-time. Several families hold enough political power to get away with anything. Ethic become secondary to chasing profit. People wages a political agenda without caring about the consequence."

Rem's eyes began to tear a little as he thought about the moment of his life.

"Unlike me, other people ignored the sign of the disaster and continued the idiocy. After realizing that fact, I started to hate humanity. I was only ten when I started to stop caring, but I didn't want to make my life meaningless, so I began searching for an answer. What makes life worth living? Can there be some light behind that abyss?"

Cytortia and Scathach studied the boy who looked happy for the first time they had known him.

"After a year, I found the answer," Rem cheerfully chuckled. "In the great economic depression, everything is even worse than what it is today. Who would have thought that a teenager who lost his father in a robbery would create the answer for nihilism? "

Rem gave a sad smiled.

"That man and his friend created the first Superhero: Superman. It's only a guess, but I believe that loss led him to create a being who could save his father--the man with the strength to bench press planet, nigh-impenetrable skin, and speed that will make your gods look slow. But unlike the gods, Superman never thought himself above humanity. A pair of humble farmers raised him, and it shows. Instead of being arrogant and self-center, humility and compassion define Superman. I never believe in gods. They are selfish, hypocritical, and cruel. Who would want to look up to them? But Superman..."

Rem dejectedly blinked back his depression.

"Imagine the worst moment of your life," Rem said. "Let say at that moment when everything is going to hell, the symbol of hope fly down from the sky, tell you everything is going to be fine, and he makes everything alright again. Think about that for a second and ask yourself: can you laugh at that hope off as something childish?"

Cytortia stood stiffly, while Luxinna stopped eating her popcorn and sulked. Rem was right. They couldn't laugh at it. It was a childish fantasy, and yet, thinking about how their life would different had the Man of Steel been real was heartwrenching. They would have a home, peace, and happier childhoods. Who could laugh at that?

Rem continued.

"In that darkest moment, a comic book character reminded one twelve-year-old kid that the world is not going to end. How could the race that is pure evil created something so beautiful? The abyss can be defeated. We just have to fight for a meaningful future despite the futility. Humanity built enterprises and supported each-other in spite of our nature because we want that better world. Every day we got to choose whether we surrender to the evil of the world, or follow the ideal of the greatest hero humanity ever conceived and find another way. Superman is walking embodiment that nihilism and cynism are for underachieving losers; doing what is right is hard and required a massive personal sacrifice. But I would rather fight to my death than live in the world without hope. You can call me naive, but with the power I have, I want to make Superman real. Then maybe those idiots will finally learn."

Silence.

Finally, the soundless void broke.

"You are not the only one," Luxinna looked outside dreamily. "I will gladly be called an idiot for that symbol of hope."

Cytortia nodded.

"Well, Tie Hua always called me naive," She amusingly said. "I agreed with her, but I would rather die naive than live as a loser."

On the sofa, Scathach shivered. The gravity was too intense.

"Kids, this is not charity," she said. " You should be fighting for control-"

"""Are you crazy?!"""

Everyone looked at her incredulously.

"I will say this only once," Rem said. "Scathach, my ego is already healthy. No blood-drenched land will help it."

"NO FREAKING WAY!" Luxinna added. "Do you think I can rule anything properly?!"

"Scathach, we just went over how we want to be a symbol of hope!" Cytortia exclaimed in horror. "What part of a tyrannical invasion is hopeful!"

Against that unshakable united front, Scathach decided discretion was better than honor.

"So what should we call ourselves," Luxinna suggested. "Order of Tomorrow?"

"Too lame, but I like the theme," Cytortia said and grinned.

"What about Horizon Dawn."