CHAPTER 534
FLAMES OF DESTRUCTION (V)
Alan stared interestingly at the massive construct floating in front of him. It ran long on the side, well over five miles, large chunks extruding up and down, forming up the exoskeleton of the ship. It was quite reminiscent of the ones they designed on Earth, just actually realized and on a much larger scale.
It was designed to be their mode of transport from here to the small corner of the cosmos where Noterra resided since it would allow them to enter the battle at their most optimal. A small river of creatures slowly began streaming into the ship, Alan among them, though reactions of the most were rather lukewarm. Alan himself had traveled on much larger and more extravagant ships, though he imagined this one would be the fastest of the bunch.
He was led through the winding, complex corridors of the ship by a floating sphere of light, all the way toward his room lined up against the hull of the ship, in the row of over a hundred others. Insides were compact and dull-looking; gray, metallic walls surrounded a single bunk bed, illumination provided by the overhead string of bulbs shining in cooling cyan.
His bunkmate was already waiting for him, and as fate would have it, it was someone he knew – the Vampire he’d talked to prior to departure, who he learned was called Jonttar, was looking out of the massive window of sorts that provided a view of the planet that they would soon leave alongside the rest of the cosmos beyond it.
“Hoh?” Jonttar grinned faintly and exclaimed as he turned around, noticing Alan. “It is like it was meant to be, no?”
“You could say so,” Alan shrugged, sitting down on one of the beds. “I know you said you’d come, but I’m honestly surprised to see you here.”
“You may doubt my courage,” Jonttar said. “But don’t ever doubt my greed.”
“Oh, my bad. So, what inspired your greed?” Alan asked.
“… I’ve a feeling you’ll jump me and try to kill me the moment I tell you.” The Vampire said, still grinning.
“You plan on becoming a turncoat?” Alan asked with a disinterested expression.
“Hoh? Is one of your powers mind-reading?”
“I don’t need to be able to read minds to see it,” Alan sighed. “A great deal of the rest is probably thinking the same. For most of us, we’ve hit our ceiling; either we’ve dried up our personal talents, or are barred from ascending by powers that be. Most of us don’t share heart-bound devotion to the Creator, and, most importantly, anyone who's come up this high… is rather selfish and self-centered at their cores."
“… it’s still a gamble,” Jonttar said, walking over to the other side of the room and leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, meeting Alan’s gaze squarely. “Perhaps we’ll be treated even worse on the other side since they won’t trust us.”
"… if the Agent is as smart as he's powerful," Alan said. "He won't turn them through trust, but through promises. Get a grip on them through affording them the power they otherwise would never obtain, and it's enough."
“—you seem rather experienced in manipulating others.”
“Not really,” Alan shrugged. “I was just exposed to it for a long period of time. It would have been weirder if I hadn’t picked anything up.”
“So? What are your plans?” Jonttar asked.
"… I'm not a maverick, I'm afraid," Alan smiled bitterly. "My options are rather limited. Don't worry though; I've no plans on exposing any of this. Furthermore, I think powers-that-be already know it, so they'll most likely set up some barriers."
“… well aware of it,” Jonttar chuckled. “You’re wrong about one thing, though.”
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“Hm?”
“It’s not because I’m looking to get stronger that I want to switch sides.” Jonttar said, his words surprising Alan somewhat.
“… it’s not? What is it, then?”
“… I grew up on a small planet called Areon,” Jonttar said, looking out of the window once again. “By the time Ashening caught up with us, we’ve barely started developing as a civilization. We had the most rudimentary technologies, our Manaflow was at the level of magic tricks, and, like with most other Ashenings, we failed to win.”
“…” Alan remained silent as the uncomfortable memories started flooding in; it was a story he was all-too-familiar with, after all.
“Besides me, there were only four other survivors,” Jonttar laughed mockingly, shaking his head. “One of them was a kid who hid in his basement for ten straight years, hibernating. Our race… was done. The two others swore vengeance on the Adul’ris, the race that conquered us,” he continued, his tone growing dark. “However, neither were able to transcend past Tier 1 Divinity in the end. Not because of the lack of talent, but because their chances were ripped out of their arms time and again. Eventually, they did a suicide-rush and, well, died.”
“…”
“I’ve no idea what happened to the kid, so, as far as I’m aware, I’m the last of the Vampiric Dragonkin of Areon,” Junttar said, looking back at Alan. “I’ve endured silently all this while because, well… because I’ve had no other choice. But now… the opportunity has presented itself.”
“…” Alan had already pieced together the motivation, but he said nothing. He could see in the Vampire’s crimson eyes the determination that wouldn’t be quashed, no matter how many warnings Alan gave out.
“I know you think it’s idiotic; even if the Destroyer does get resurrected, its impact on the cosmos will be minimal for billions of years. But… that’s the hope. It’s the only variable that’s able to counteract the corrupt reality of our lives, little human. Since I was exiled from my home, I’ve watched thousands upon thousands of ‘heroes’ emerge from the ashes of their own homes, flaunted as the chosen, yet each more broken than the last, burying down the hate and the anger. It’s the vilest form of control that I’ve encountered in my eighteen billion years of living. Even if it’s a fool’s errand, I’ll hang onto any straw I see.”
“… from what I heard, Noterra was scheduled for Ashening only half a billion years down the line,” Alan said after a short silence. “If you want the proof that it’s not about giving opportunities but controlling, look no further than this expedition.”
“So you see—”
"Even still," Alan interrupted quickly. "Whether we are devoted to the Creator or not is irrelevant, in the end. What matters is that he's quite real and quite invincible. Even if you turn to the other side, who says they won't be the same? If the Destroyer does gain the same power, who's to say he won't commence Ashening after Ashening as well? If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that those who gain power are terrified of losing it. It doesn’t matter whether they’re wise or whether they’re idiots; it doesn’t matter whether they’re saints or sinners – power is absolute.”
“As I said,” Jonttar said, his voice low. “It’s a gamble.”
“…”
The silence fell between the two as Alan lied down onto a rather uncomfortable bed. Ashening… he hated the word itself, yet it was perhaps the most common word spoken in the cosmos. No, in the cosmoses.
It's been a long while since he himself had experienced it, yet the wounds were still just as fresh, with the scars still aching every time he thought about it. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could practically replay the day when the sky of Earth burned, when the relative peace was turned upside down, and the world was turned into a literal hell overnight. It's not as though he didn't understand Jonttar’s imperative and his motives; however, Alan himself couldn’t hang onto the hatred.
He had a family that he put above all else, and while the thoughts of vengeance did emerge inside his mind every once in a while, he was quick to dissipate them. He couldn’t be like Jonttar, or even like Caleb; to him, even the current stretch of things was far better than if the Destroyer truly did resurrect. Wouldn’t that signal a full-on war? Ashenings would increase in quantity as a preemptive measure against losing control over one of the worlds over to the influence of the Destroyer, while all the newly-ascended ‘heroes’ would be sent half the cosmos away to fight in a war they didn’t even know about until a few months ago.
Alan was going to stay behind but changed his mind when he saw that three Agents would be accompanying them. No matter how strong the newly-appointed Agent of Chaos is, it was all relative. Strength didn’t come only in the rawest of forms; it had countless layers, just like everything else.
A part of him wished Caleb had come along; not as an assurance, because nothing was ever certain around him, but simply to see how he'd align when it came to the matters at hand. Even as far back as the downfall of Earth, Caleb never bent a knee to the powers-that-be. As a matter of fact, he was the only one to kill a Divinity sent to 'support' them during the Ashening. Because of this, unlike Alan, he was never recruited directly and was forced to roam the cosmos on his own. Yet, time and again, Alan would hear rumors and whispers about the crazed human pulling off all kinds of insane stunts.
That was what he lacked – that fire, the defiant spirit that never kneeled before anything or anyone. There was a time when Caleb was much weaker than him, yet their attitudes were still the same. It was simply a difference of who they were at their cores, and those things wouldn’t change even with the passage of countless eons.
Aah, he sighed inwardly, closing his eyes. I truly hope we win… please… just win… that’s all I ask…