EPILOGUE - LEVELER

Leveler took the steps up the path of Kala Patthar at a measured pace. It was not a race to come so far, nor so high. It was, with all things, an act of faith and not to be rushed. And as Throne had once said, when he had first met him at the summit of the mountain, the secret to my faith is that you brought it with you, because the faithful are not always chosen.

His purple robes fluttered in the breeze and the gentle snowfall glimmered against the silver planes of his armor, the pattern there cut into the universe before the first stars had kindled in the depths of endless night. Sometimes it was difficult to believe that the whole of existence was merely equations and symbols that had been written in the birth cry of the universe, that the steps he was taking were as immutable as the life cycle of the Sun.

Or was it?

Life worked in patterns, and those patterns were determined by the shape of things beneath them, a design woven into the fabric of the universe. Quarks and gluons combined to become protons and neutrons and those greater components, heeding the song of cosmic strings, danced with electrons to form atoms.

Atoms came together to form molecules. Molecules came together to forge elements and cells. Cells worked in concert, and so created flesh. Flesh working in concert created life, and life created the future. And that future, Leveler knew, was to be one that was for the benefit of all humanity.

Such was the purpose of their concord.

Throne was waiting there, looking toward the peak of Everest. There, floating above it all, with her four arms spread and masked face turned towards the heavens as if seeking supplication or worship, was the lanky titanic form of The Surveyor. The vision of her, no matter how many times he saw her there, was enough to give him pause.

And yet, there was beauty in that moment, too. For if she was there, she was not elsewhere. Not tearing the world apart.

Leveler bowed his head. Throne turned as if sensing him. He wore the same colors and the same armor—identical in function and form if not style. His helmet was the same he had worn since the Golden Age, since they had first worked together and known the cost that had to be paid. It evoked something like a face, but without a trace of humanity.

Fitting.

“We have completed our analysis of the fragment that Gate provided us with,” Leveler said. “Initial simulations indicate that it should serve our purposes. CONCORDIA is performing a detailed analysis as we speak.”

Throne didn’t reply. He rarely did.

“It is highly likely that Gate mentioned our involvement to certain individuals, albeit without any concrete proof. The Engineer appeared in Melbourne, but was forced to retreat. Causal determination and iridic analysis from CONCORDIA indicate he will be dormant for twenty-three days. The reason for his retreat is unclear—Sovereign and Harbinger are investigating these reports.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

As best as anyone could determine, it was impossible to kill any of the Transcended. Even the most awe-inspiring weapons and methods failed against beings that could seemingly treat the laws of causality itself as a casual suggestion. Only recently had CONCORDIA been able to even theorize a theoretical gap in their armor, and there was still so much to be done before they could realize it as something practical.

But it had to be, and so it would.

“Eclipse has provided an account of the situation in the Caucasus. As expected, the scenario within the ruins of the Third concluded inside the expected parameters. I have the report from CONCORDIA for your perusal now.”

Leveler fed him the report. It was a whirlwind of data, numbers, and color. Even as long as he had been one of the great work’s architects, he still struggled with reading the output of their miraculous oracle, how it straddled the line between statistics and prophecy. To Ironforge and Throne, the act of interpretation was as simple as spying smoke on the horizon.

But only one remained with them now.

Throne spoke.

“Unexpected.”

“Yes,” Leveler said, nodding. “The complete loss of the SHIVA system was unfortunate, but not unanticipated. Sooner or later, we would have needed to eliminate the remains, such is our concord.”

“No,” Throne replied, and fed the report back to Leveler. It unfolded before his very eyes, a pattern of color and data that shifted by the moment, like dropping rocks into the still waters of a cave. What was the unexpected thing Throne had seen? And there, like the stroke of an amateur’s brush across a masterpiece, Leveler glimpsed the troubling aberration in the pattern.

“It can’t be,” Leveler said, frowning. “An incipient.”

“Unprecedented iridic activity,” Throne said.

“If this is all from one person—”

“It is. Leveler, this is why you stand with me here today; the ordained time—your reckoning with the IESA—is at hand.”

He bowed his head. “How may I be put to use?”

“Even the mightiest army may fail to conquer the walls of a fortress,” Throne said. “But a single word in the right ear can break the resolve of those inside. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Assemble a team. Go to Geneva. Collect the executor owed to us by Ironforge. Uncover the incipient and, if they will not come to a concord with us, destroy them.”

Throne turned away. Leveler bowed and left him to his thoughts, descending the steps of Kala Patthar at the same pace he had climbed them. A part of him wanted to leap from the peak and land at the base of the mountain, but he had waited over twenty years for this day, and a few more hours would make no difference to the grand design that he created and served. He called up the report concerning the ruins of SHIVA and then what information they had on the individuals involved, drafting preliminary plans and strategies, countermeasures and offensives. There was much to learn, Leveler knew, and he smiled to himself.

Much to learn if their apocalyptic plan—the final resolution to the ancient tension of preservation, salvation, and destruction—was to succeed.