Gaius let out a long breath, and began to delve into his memories. It wasn’t his usual cursory glance; it was a deep introspection, the likes of which he rarely engaged in. There was so much sorrow in the world that he didn’t need to relive any bad memories, but today was an exception.
His vision shifted to the start of the disastrous Wildlands campaign. More people had died at the hands of their superiors and their allies than the demons, forced onto a dead end by their far stronger commanders. Far behind the frontlines, Lords, Paragons and Demigods watched and commented, setting impossible goals for their nations’ military.
The reclassification of people and families, based on strength. A policy the Conference of the Four undertook, shortly after he fell into a coma. The common people probably never had a say in this, nor could they put up any resistance to those attempts.
Racial and regional prejudices. He had seen them in full display at the Heaven-cleaving Fortress, when people of two different nations came into contact. Gaius could recall seeing small scuffles that were swept under the carpet back then, in the ostensible name of unity.
How could there be unity if there was no accounting? The genocide of the beastfolk still burned in the hearts and minds of Ark City and the Republic. He hadn’t forgotten the hatred the beastfolk of Ark City held towards the Human God, the Holy Temple and the Southern Assembly. If he stood still and did nothing, these two powers would soon declare war and wipe out the Southern Assembly.
The Western Holdings, the closest ideological allies of the Assembly, would be dragged into the war. The North would be forced to intervene, and before long, a new war would sweep the world.
There would be no future for the people of Nakama and La-Ti’s generation, as a war of hatred dragged all into an end.
As he continued his recollection and sharpened his resolve, Gaius couldn’t help but see himself as the biggest hypocrite of all. In his bid to resolve all animosities, he was resorting to the very behaviour he condemned earlier. The collective amnesia he intended to impose was the ultimate means to an end, wiping out all grudges and injustice through what could only be called as the most egregious miscarriage of justice.
At this point, however, Gaius was beyond small contradictions like this.
Letting out a small puff of turbid air, Gaius opened his eyes. Once again, he was back in the cavern, his legs crossed together. The orb that was Cybral floated in front of him, unaware of the major undertaking it was about to spark off.
“I’m almost ready,” Gaius murmured.
Oculus and Nexus replied with silence.
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Gaius stared at the wooden sculpture of Weiwu, the Chanter of Innocents’ proof of existence. The great god came and left like a bubble, watching over Orb for a hundred thousand years without complaint, without leaving anything behind. He was the benefactor behind his current achievements, the person who had helped save his family in their time of need.
There may have been some questionable points, but Gaius knew that Weiwu had his best interest in heart from start till end.
After spending a minute or two to look at the smiling countenance of the departed great god, Gaius placed the sculpture into his pocket. La-Ti would probably cry when he knew about the news, and Gaius had no intention of hiding it from the little guy.
That way, the Chanter of Innocents would never be forgotten by him.
Maybe I should make a monument or something in the new world. Having thought that, he conveyed his intentions to Oculus, who was currently doing laps around his head.
“I can do that, yes. Might be a bit of trouble, though.”
“Then do it,” Gaius replied. “Right, about you…once the festival begins, what will happen to you? You’re part of the Crying Abyss too, right? Will you…”
He didn’t dare to complete his sentence. The little eyeball had illuminated a road for him, a new path that he was now on. Gaius didn’t dare to think about what this plan would entail for Oculus.
“What do you think?” Oculus replied, whirling on its axis. “I told you before. The Crying Abyss, or rather, the original gods of Orb, long to die. Their existence is a pitiful one. The fact that they can contribute to the creation of your new world will be salvation to them.”
It paused. “The same goes for me.”
“You’ve been lying to me, then,” Gaius muttered. “I asked you this question before, and your answer back then was different.”
“I’m sorry for lying to you back then.” Oculus pondered for a moment. “But you were the kind who would never want to lose anyone where possible. If I told the truth then, you would have closed off this possibility forever. You would not have assessed this possibility rationally, and in the end, when you took up your place as the overseer of the Abyss, your mind would eventually collapse.”
“But—”
Oculus chuckled. “Do not deny my words. You have felt it for yourself. You have been mentally cornering yourself time and again, the moment you stepped into the Wildlands,” said Oculus. “But you couldn’t not support the invasion either. The Five Lands had not been unified under the threat of the Demon God yet, but you also knew that the invasion was bound to fail the moment the Demon Sovereign acted.”
“But you’ll vanish.”
“I was never meant to last long anyway,” Oculus replied. “Come on, buddy. Get real. I’m a freaking eyeball. A floating, honest-to-Orb eyeball. There’s no way I could have done anything. This form defies all known laws of Orb and Earth.”
“I could have done something, right?” Gaius asked. “Anything!”
“But none will stop me from departing this world,” said Oculus replied. “Nexus tried. Just ask him.”
Gaius shifted his eyes over to the sculpture, who nodded sadly. The two had gotten along in his trip down Machia, and if Nexus couldn’t do anything…
“Alright, enough.” Oculus did one last turn. “Gaius. Let us start. We’ve dallied long enough. Weiwu and I came here to see your grand undertaking through. Do not mourn our passing. If anything, celebrate it.”
The eyeball began to glow with grey light. “After all, how many people can say that they changed the world? Gaius, hear my plea. See it through! For you, me and for the world!”
Grey turned to a blinding gold, and the world began to shake. Under the groaning of Orb itself, Gaius endured the sorrow in his heart, and began to speak.