Dallion’s entire awakened life flashed through his eyes. It was safe to say that there had always been challenge, strife, and on occasion loss, yet never like it had been in the last few months.
“This is what it was all about?” He didn’t even try to hide his anger. “So many sacrificed themselves so someone could level up the world?”
“Don’t give me that.” The Purple Moon frowned. “If you didn’t have the heart to do this, you wouldn’t be here. Was it different when you brought millions of dryads into the world to fight for you? All that was so you stood a chance at reaching the gate. No one could be forced to become the Architect. Everyone who tried did so because they thought they were better than the alternative.”
Splitting into instances, Dallion tried summoning a weapon. None of his weapons responded. Three of his instances proceeded to cast a spell. Magic seemed to be still in effect, though the lack of reaction on Galatea’s part made Dallion fade those instances before completion.
He had just gone through a war with the Moons. Nothing would be gained by losing his temper now. Ultimately, what angered him the most wasn’t all the ones that died, or the friends he’d personally lost; it wasn’t even Euryale sacrificing herself for him; it was the knowledge that Galatea was right. There were so many points at which he could have stopped, had he wanted. He could have stayed in Dherma after the defeat of Aspion. Odds were he would have gotten along with Gloria, married, and even had children, leading a calm and potentially fulfilled life in the middle of nowhere. He could have remained in the Icepicker guild, climbing up the ranks to lieutenant or even captain. Even later, he could have remained a hunter, marrying Euryale years before he did and continuing to roam the world fighting wilderness monsters and exploring ruins. Simon himself, despite his many faults, had specifically offered Dallion the option to give up on leveling and join the Order. It was Dallion who had refused, seeking to become a noble, and then more.
“I’m the eye of a hurricane,” he repeated the words Hannah had told him in the past. “Hurting everyone around.”
“All Architects were,” the Moon said. “One has to have experienced great lows to have a basis for comparison, and also the strength to push through.”
“What if Jeremy had come here?” Dallion asked. “Or anyone who became a Star in order to get here?”
“You’ve glimpsed Aether’s memories. There’ve been many Stars who took advantage of the void to gain strength. None of them made it here. And if they did, they’d be very disappointed.”
“Why would they? They get to shape the world.”
“And dispel all the void in the process. That’s the real role of the architect, one that even a Moon couldn’t achieve. Simon thought he’d come up with a solution, sending high-level awakened to keep the void from seeping in. You saw how that worked out.”
Dallion looked at the floating globe. It seemed so fragile, exceptional even with the current scars. In the end, it remained one giant realm. That’s why the final trial involved conquering it. The Moons were nothing more than overseers. The real item guardian was the original Moon that had summoned them—the “Eight Moon.” Only by gaining control over it could one claim to have fulfilled the requirements.
“Defeat the guardian to change the land’s destiny.” Dallion shook his head. “What are the limits?”
“You’ve done this before, you should know. Your imagination is the limit. The first architect turned the world into one massive arena in which the strong clashed to determine their worth, the second created an eternal city of beauty and splendor. You be you.”
“Can I bring back Eury?” Dallion snapped.
“Actually, you can.”
Dallion instantly switched his attention from the globe to the Moon.
“You are the Architect,” the Moon repeated with a sigh of annoyance. “You’ve brought the banished before, you can do it again on a massive scale. There’s hardly anything surprising about that.”
He could bring back the dead? That didn’t seem right. It was almost as if this was part of the awakening trial. While Dallion had brought back item guardians and even, through a combination of skills and magic, placed them into the real world, they had been banished. They weren’t living in the normal sense of the world. Could it be that it didn’t matter? Then, it suddenly hit him.
“The whole fight was an awakening trial,” he said.
“Close, but no. It was the world’s awakening realm, our realm. The Moonstone emblem was just a key for people to reach us, people that some of us thought had the potential of turning into the Architect. How many times did you visit awakening altars for a chat, or ask for us to appear in your dreams? The emblem would have let you do that.”
“Simon lied.” Dallion almost found it funny. “He knew what the outcome would be, so he told all world conquerors that it’s the only chance they had at conquering the world and becoming a Moon.”
“There were others before him, but yes.”
“None of those who challenged you were killed. They were placed in one of these worlds.” He looked about.
“Sort of, though the reasoning is correct. It’s all part of the world’s rules.”
“What about my grandmother? Can I bring her back as well?”
“You can bring back anyone that’s banished. From anywhere. You can pluck any guardian from its item. You can sculpt the world, rearrange the continents, fill it with magic creatures.” Galatea waved his hand. “All of your knowledge and experience will also bleed in.”
“What about their memories? Can I bring back those as well?”
This time, the response wasn’t immediate. The Purple Moon looked at the globe.
“No.” He looked back at Dallion. “Not quite. The people of the world will only have the memories of the world. Whatever you change the world into will always have been. The current age will be nothing more than a myth that everyone sort of knows. However, that doesn’t apply to otherworlders. They will keep their memories.”
That wasn’t the answer Dallion was hoping for. It meant that none of his family—his awakened world family—would remember him. All his friends and acquaintances would have no idea who he was or remember any of the things they went through. On the other hand, he’d still have Euryale.
“What about Jeremy, Simon, and the others? Will they remember?”
“There’s nothing you could do about that. The only thing you could do is cast them out back to their worlds. The same goes for your wife, but if you do, she won’t be able to return. Awakened only get to pass through the first gate once.”
It could be argued that there were exceptions to the rule. Adzorg had almost created a device to connect worlds, although with what the consequences were, no one would be willing to make a second attempt.
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“Alright, how do we do this?” Dallion asked.
“Just place your hand on the globe and think what you want the world to turn into. The rectangles will tell you if you try the impossible.”
“Just like improving an item,” Dallion said, although he knew it wasn’t. “Any chance I can get rid of you?”
For the first time, Galatea curved his lips in a display of genuine amusement.
Floating up to the world. Dallion placed his hand on it and concentrated.
AWAKENING WORLD Level increased.
The WORLD has leveled up to Level 4.
A bright white glow surrounded the globe, purging any and all void matter within it. For a while at least, everything would be perfect—nothing would break or crack, the wilderness would be deprived of void monsters, there’d be no void tendrils corrupting people. Of course, that was only going to last for a while. The void would seep in, bringing what comes with it. The awakened would try to counter it, partially succeeding unti,l millennia from now, another Architect would be needed to repeat the process. Thankfully, that wouldn’t be Dallion.
I want for the world to be as beautiful as it originally was, Dallion thought. Including the wilderness.
WORLD restored.
Do you want there to be magic creatures?
A yellow rectangle emerged.
“Sure,” Dallion replied. “And I want all the banished to return.”
The SEVEN RACES are part of the new age.
Do you want the ancient races to return?
“Them too,” Dallion said to the yellow rectangle.
The ANCIENT RACES are part of the new age.
“I want Eury to be back, but none of the others.” Some Dallion wouldn’t risk leaving in the world. Others, he thought, deserved to return to their worlds. Hopefully, they would agree with his decision.
Otherworlder EURYALE is part of the new age.
Otherworlder SIMON has been returned to his world.
Otherworlder AKLAFF has been returned to his world.
Otherworlder TIALLIA has been returned to her world.
Otherworlder LYULAK has been returned to his world.
Otherworlder JEREMY has been returned to his world.
“I want Nox back as well.”
IMPOSSIBLE REQUEST
NOX is a void creature and cannot be part of the new age.
“What?”
Galatea hadn’t said that. Quite the contrary. He had specifically stated that it was impossible to prevent the void from seeping in. As such, would a single crackling matter?
“He’s part of my realm and I want him to stay!”
IMPOSSIBLE REQUEST
NOX is a void creature and cannot be part of the new age.
“He’s my familiar, which by your rules makes him part of me. So, either he stays or you break your rule that cracklings can’t be part of the new age.”
IMPOSSIBLE REQUEST
The ARCHITECT cannot be part of the new age.
Dallion glared at the Purple Moon. It would have been easy to say that he had been ticked, but it was also he who had done it to himself. After improving a world or sphere item, one was ejected out of the realm. Since Dallion had improved the world itself, there was only one place he could be ejected to.
“I’d say I was sorry, but I never particularly liked you,” The Purple Moon said as purple particles ate into everything Dallion could see. “Don’t worry, though. Your emotions will stay behind as well.”
Everything had turned into a mass of purple pixels. Dallion tried to split into instances, but there was no difference. He was in an endlessness of nothing, and in each of his instances, the pixels on the edges were fading out fast.
You bastard! I’ll get you for this, if it’s the last thing—
An invisible force grabbed hold of Dallion yanking him up.
“Dal?” a distant voice said. “You okay, man?”
Okay? What sort of stupid question was that? Dallion tried to answer, but the wave of pain that swept through his body quickly made him stop. His head was thumping like crazy, as were his left hand and ass.
“He’s moving!” someone else said.
A sharp smell of tobacco, alcohol, and sweetish sweat drilled into his nostrils, forcing his eyes open.
“What the heck?” he mumbled, seeing half a dozen people grouped above him, looking down in concern.
All of them were young, with expressions of guilt and concern, and not remotely familiar.
“He’s fine,” a blond, freckled boy said in relief. For some reason, he seemed marginally more familiar than the rest. “Just a slip up.”
Dallion tried to stand up. From what he could make out, he was on the floor of a rather dirty place. He could see a few tables about, and five times as many people. One would be tempted to call the place a run-down inn, if it wasn’t for the metal cans and plastic bottles scattered about.
“What happened?” Gravity felt heavier than usual.
Instinctively, Dallion tried to cast a spell to move off the filthy ground. His fingers made the motions without fail, yet nothing happened—no spell circles, no symbols, not even a single magic thread.
“You fell off the table, dude,” the freckled replied, moving in to support Dallion’s weight. Now that the initial fright had worn off, he seemed to find the entire thing funny. “The way you went down, I thought you cracked something.”
“I’m fine.” Dallion pulled away. “Where am I?”
“Dude.” A bit of alarm returned to the other’s glance. “You really slammed your head hard. We’re just off campus. It’s the traditional welcome party for the first day of college.”