Aurelian floated in darkness.
It surrounded him with an absolute, eerie lack of noise that was beyond mere silence. It was a void, an absence that was difficult to quantify for his own mind. It was terrifying in an existential and all-consuming way that made his once-monkey-brain want to thrash and tremble in panic, and yet in the same moment he was calm. Illogically and absolutely calm in a manner that defied all reason or sense of reality for what was happening.
His eyes lowered down to his body and he realised he could see himself.
In truth he was the only visible thing anywhere. Perhaps everywhere.
The glow from his body was almost an inverted colour filter when it left the immediate proximity of itself, warping into a number of mutant shades and deviating hues that transcended all common sense of normal rationale. He was… fascinated in the same moment as being horrified at what was happening.
Was he dead?
Was this some sort of oblivion?
“What is going on…?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Aurelian felt a sudden tug on his awareness, and abruptly he was moving. It was almost impossible to parse how he knew he was moving, but motion was certainly in occurrence and while he saw nothing to immediately indicate the speed or direction of his locomotion, he could feel distance being lost. First at a steady rate, and then at an ever-increasing velocity to where he was almost positive he would eventually hit relativistic speeds.
It was an insane thought, and yet he could not even begin to explain even to himself the certainty that pervaded every inch of his existence.
On and on he moved, through blackness that warped light and colour and toward an infinite nothing that seemed in no hurry to become something. It felt like seconds in the same time as it felt like hours, and Aurelian almost began to grow bored at the feeling of movement. Instead he focused inward and searched for some semblance of normalcy.
Within himself he found the elucidated image of his core once again, its prismatic heart rapidly spinning within a skein of crimson mana that continued a steady shift from transparent to opaque like a settling liquid. It was almost thickening and deepening in tone and substance while it covered and, he knew, secured his vulnerable interior core from external threat.
Above the layer of liquid mana that represented his Sanguinated trait and Anima control, the bands of platinum force — which he instinctively knew were empowered and strengthened both by Bael’tharax’s mana and Bahamut’s bond — formed a criss-crossing formation of banded wraps around his core ten strong. Looking at the core directly, it almost appeared like a glowing ball, veiled in scarlet, and lined with a ten pointed formation upon its surface.
It was only when he examined it from other angles that he saw those bands hovered just infinitesimally higher than the cardinal flush of energy forming the surface layer of his core. The entire concept was so esoteric to his earth-born brain that even knowing it did not inherently mean accepting it, and he found himself wondering on more than one instance during his seemingly endless transit whether everything in the Realms had been a fever dream, and he was about to awaken from a coma on Earth.
In fact it was during just that very lovely thought that his awareness of the nothing suddenly became the awareness of something and Aurelian snapped his consciousness out of its meditative focus to look at what had alerted him.
In the far distance what looked like ten lights hung suspended in the darkness, as massive and incomprehensible in scale as chromatic supergiants. Each one he instinctively knew could snuff him in the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. Each one was a foe that would do its utmost to obliterate his existence and cast him beyond all thought of reality.
Or perhaps, he amended, only nine were.
For the last of them, a cool silver star, was wrapped in shackles forged of the colours of all the others. It hung with them and yet Aurelian knew it was apart. Rejected. Ignored.
The closer he drew, the more things changed and with a suddenness that had him gasping for air, he was smashed through some sort of invisible wall and stood within a… chamber. It was marbled and pillared in the manner of ancient greece or great babylon, and looked to be some sort of acropolis with an open sky and no walls or ceiling.
Was he on top of a mountain? It was hard to tell.
Inside the open chamber sat ten thrones, each one occupied by a different individual, and one broken and scorched with clear rage present in how it was defiled.
“You are certain?” A voice like liquid gold said in a tone that brooked neither foolishness nor obfuscation.
“I felt it. I felt it, brother. Like before. Like her.”
The interrogator sat upon the largest of the thrones, positioned beside the broken one in the same place the golden star had hung beside the silver, and his features were… immaculate. Sunkissed olive skin, blond hair the texture of silk, and eyes like erupting supernovas laden with liquid gold that shimmered and danced within their depths.
Aurelian didn’t dare to move. He had a pretty good guess who the man was.
Solarius.
“If what Absolum says is true,” a childish female voice interjected with the subtle sing-song of spring and grim weight of winter, “then everything is at risk, Solarius. Everything. We must end the threat before it has time to permutate into something dangerous.”
“It is already dangerous, Eidania.” Another woman said snarkily. “The question is whether the danger is manageable. We have enough supplicants that we should be able to handle one baby Nephilim. Surely.”
“Unfortunately, the System originated the creature’s transmigration in Elysea.” A booming male with ebon skin, brown hair, and a bass tone like grinding rock declared impassively.
“Which means that any forces we send there en mass—”
“I am aware of the danger.” Solarius cut in with a look at the speaker; a man with pale skin, sea-green eyes, and black hair the colour of onyx. Aurelian noticed that his throne was worked with coral motifs. He turned his attention back to Solarius when the god of Light continued.
“Similarly I am aware of the danger the creature poses. We cannot allow a new Calamity to rise unopposed. The cost in Influence to break such a being were it to gain traction would be unacceptable.”
“We have accrued plenty, brother.” A woman with feather-light tones and a dress of scandalously sheer material uttered airily. Aurelian noticed crackles of lightning in her eyes. “The dragons are extinct, the Elyseans are dead, the Eternals are subdued, and the Prime Material is ours in every way that matters. Even the System cannot—”
“You don’t understand!” Absolum interrupted, and this time Aurelian turned to face him entirely. The man was skinny in a sickly way, with sunken-in eyes the colour of coal, wispy grey hair that barely clung to his emaciated scalp, and thin lips that seemed pale with imminent death. Yet his voice was strong. “You have all sat happily upon your thrones ignorant of what happens, but I see. I know. I have experimented more—!”
“Nobody wants to hear about your experiments.” A woman with a terse expression, full lips, and an alluring hourglass answered from beneath waves of green hair. “You have been twisting my supplicants for cent—”
“All in the name of higher understand—!”
“Filthy abominations, you mean!”
“You know noth—!”
“Enough.” The words left Solarius’ mouth with the force of a cataclysm and both deities subsided. The woman, Aurelian reasoned, was likely the Life Goddess.
“Your petty disputes are meaningless. Absolum, how strong would you assume this Nephilim is?”
“Perhaps Second Temper.” The Death God replied with a dangerous sneer for the Life Goddess. “It is unthinkable for him to have bested my Vasiri elsewise.”
“And the plan for that little remnant of rats in the Desolation?” Solarius asked.
“Unimpeded.” Absolum confirmed with a lick of his pale lips. “The connections were not left in my creature’s hands, and so the Severance did not end the horde when he was struck by—by the spell.”
“Then soon the problem will take care of itself.” Solarius said with a calm that Aurelian could only describe as a mix between dangerous and, perhaps even a little self-assuring. “A second Calamity cannot rise without a base of strength from which to draw, and we have worked hard to ensure any such possible locales are well-and-truly compromised since the Calling was reported.”
“Wait!” A voice called out with a snarl. “Someone is here! Someone watches!”
A man in purple robes stood to his feet and his eyes turned toward where Aurelian stood. Immediately the purple irises lit up with power and Aurelian felt pressure suddenly snaking its way toward him. He couldn’t even turn to flee. He was trapped. Trapped with the very gods that wanted him dead. There was no escape. He was going to—
“Time to go, I think.” A quiet female voice said placidly.
Aurelian turned to see a pair of liquid silver eyes looking right at him.
“Who are—?”
The strange figure touched his arm, and everything shattered into pieces.
Seconds later Aurelian staggered backwards when he appeared instead in a field of grass, and felt himself hit something solid. He turned and his eyes widened upon seeing the very same tree he remembered from the first time he had arrived in the Realms. A white oak-like trunk with golden whorls of runic inscription, and the soothing energy of something heard just beyond the audible spectrum.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” The same placid voice asked while Aurelian spun to face it.
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A woman with silvery hair the colour of spun starlight stood before him, attired in a simple white blouse and black pencil skirt, with no shoes to speak of and her hair’s great length tied up into a high ponytail. Her features were beautiful in a way that seemed ageless, and when she spoke her voice was whisper-quiet and yet perfectly detectable.
“The world shard you hail from, I believe it has myths of this. Yggdrasil, yes?”
“The world tree…?” Aurelian asked in bemused confusion while glancing back at the tree. “I mean it’s prevalent in Norse mythology, but what—?”
“Yes. The World Tree. An apt bleed from here to there. Upon its boughs and its surrounds are the Nine Worlds, and at its roots nibbles the great dragon Níðhöggr. Each of its three great roots goes to the heavens’ well of Urðarbrunnr, the spring of Hvergelmir, and the well of Mímisbrunnr.”
“Yeah…” Aurelian said warily. “I really didn’t pay that much attention to mythology.”
“I find it fascinating that you Nephilim come from so many and such vastly different locales, and yet in all of them are kernels of reflection. Your world shards are most interesting to me.”
“Thanks, I gu—?” Aurelian’s eyes abruptly narrowed and he felt Dragon’s Resolve flare for the first time in what felt like an age. She wasn’t going to lull him into a conversation about mythology. “Hold on a minute, lady, just who the fuck are you and what is going on here?” He said the words more bravely than was perhaps accurate, and more aggressively than was perhaps wise… but he certainly felt entitled to the suspicion.
“I am known as the Arbiter,” the woman replied with a little smile, “but you may call me Selenia.”
“Selenia…?”
His mind abruptly flashed with a memory.
> “That is where it becomes interesting. You remember I said that Shadow is reviled by the Godsworn?”
>
> “Yes…?”
>
> “Shadow was the Dominion of Selenia. Solarius’ twin sister.”
>
> “So why is it—?”
>
> “You asked who called the Calamity.”
>
> “Wait, a goddess did?!”
>
> “Yes. Purportedly Selenia grew… weary of her brother and their kin, and regretted the damage they had done to the Realms. She passed on the ritual of the Calling to her followers, and bade them to act in her stead. They very evidently complied.”
>
> “So Solarius, what… killed her?”
>
> “Worse. He drained her of power and used the Influence of the other Eight to imprison her in the Prime Material where she could languish, watching over those she betrayed her own kind to protect.”
>
> “Where is—?”
>
> “She is the Moon.” Tarixi said gravely.
“I see you recall the Echo’s lessons.” Selenia said with a small smile.
“Yeah she was pretty thorough with—Hey don’t change the subject, lady! You’re a goddess! You’re the fucking moon!”
“In all the ways that matter, yes, I suppose I am. I am not exactly the physical aspect of the moon per se, but my power is certainly shackled by its encapsulation.”
“But… but I saw you chained in—!”
“The Void. Yes. You saw a reflection of my Cognitive Manifestation in the Void. That is the great majority of my power. In this capacity I am both far more and far, far less.”
Aurelian held up his hands and paced when he did, his fingers brushing out the strands of platinum while his mind raced. “Okay first of all, why am I so… so comfortable? So calm?”
“That would be the song.”
“The what?”
Selenia stepped toward the tree and lightly tapped its bark. “The song. It is heard across every Realm, every dimension, every universe that the System pervades. It is the collective chorus of every Soul in every reality.”
“Hippie wind chimes.”
“The System is not a Naaru.”
“How the fuck do you—Nevermind.” Aurelian waved his hands. “Look, I’m sorry for being rude, but this is crazy. You realise this is crazy, right? I mean you’re… you’re the moon, the System is, what, a tree? A Norse ashwood or something? And I’m… dead? Alive? Having an astral out of body experience?”
“The System is part of everything, Aurelian.” She said while lifting her hands to touch a green leaf hanging off one of the tree’s lowest branches. “It is the cumulative will of Soulforce.” She smiled at him. “Yes, including yours. It is the union of life across every multiversal level. Simply because there is no contact does not mean there is no exposure.”
“So it’s God?”
“Not in the way you might define it, no.” She said with a demure shake of her head. “The System is cause and effect. It is choice and consequence. Equal and opposite reactions. It is the mathematical metaphysical pseudo-omnipresent underscoring architecture of all existence, and the provisioner of all laws that guide the shaping of what is.”
“So it’s not Sapient?”
“The System’s will is a matter of existence. It wishes to exist, so it nurtures that which aids its goals. You, me, all life forms are played into that grand multiversal calculus. The System cannot create Soulforce, but it can refine it. Much like trees emit oxygen in return of carbon dioxide, the System emits its own power in exchange for Soulforce.”
“But the System gives us Soulforce.” Aurelian said with a confused glance at his HUD.
“No Aurelian, your Soulforce is unique to you, and it produces a soundless vibration — a song, if you will — which the System aggregates into itself and refines. Mana is the pure distillation of that empyrean power. That Soulforce is fed into the System by the chorus of all realities, and in return it purifies, refines, and feeds that back to you as System mana.”
“That’s… okay. So what the hell are the Realms then? Why the levelling system? Why is everything computational jargon?”
“Everyone translates the System differently. All I know is that the System’s point of origination was here, in the Prime Material. Where you come from is something called a world shard. It is no less real than the Realms, but it is something like a creation of desiccated osmosis. Your universe is bereft of mana, because it is woefully lacking in Soulforce. There is too much where you are. Too much matter, and too few souls. The Realms are… contained. To your mind it may seem empty, but that is a simplistic view.”
“So instead of space and galaxies you have… what… the Void?” He guessed.
“Yes. It is the space between Realms. I can no more explain to you why the Prime Material formed this way than I can explain to you the reason all creatures have Soulforce. Perhaps there was another architect. Perhaps the System changed it. I do not know. Nobody does.”
Aurelian turned to the tree and, after a hesitant moment, placed his hand on it. “I bet the System knows.”
“That is quite possible.” Selenia allowed. “The tree represents its reality. The Multiverse hangs from its branches like fruit, and within each is the contained force of an entire reality of existence. The Realms are… different. Above and below. The main source that feeds its roots.”
“I feel like I should be having an existential meltdown…”
“I felt the same at first, when becoming Arbiter, and learning the System’s song. It is… a lot. But you will abide. You will learn to understand.”
“You keep talking about music, is that—?”
“No. There are no frequencies to be hacked into and abused. All plant life sings, Aurelian. It is merely a subsonic or below-capacity vibration that normal creatures cannot hear. The System is no different, save that you occasionally parse the signal it emits as tangible audio input based upon your limited comprehension of its data bursts. In truth, the sounds you hear are no more real than your presence here.”
“That’s… right then.” He cleared his throat. “How long… how long have I been—?”
“Exactly one microsecond has passed since your consciousness was pulled into the Aether.” Selenia replied with the same quiet smile and placid tone. “Your distress and confusion are understandable, but I would caution you to try to control yourself. We are rather short on time.”
“One mic—Jesus Christ.”
“Time is meaningless here.”
“That’s helpful.” He mumbled.
“But we are short on it regardless.”
“Okay, ignoring the contradiction in those words, what does that mean?” Aurelian asked.
“That we must be about our purpose. Or at least, I must. I brought you here to offer you some advice, a gift, and a warning in that order Aurelian.”
He nodded for her to continue.
“First and foremost, I was bade to tell you to remember that while many may pretend to accolades or power, there is no true might in anything but true might itself. You are the Reclaimer. You are the Calamity. All else is misdirection.”
“That’s… helpful I guess.” He said slowly.
“Next, the warning: you have skirted the rules and your actions have had grave consequences. Several saplings—that is to say, local nodes—of the System have been overwhelmed by the paradoxes you have brought within your short week in the Realms. You are warned, strongly, to not make that a habit.”
Aurelian glanced at the large tree warily, and then back to Selenia.
“Okay. Sure. That’s fair, I guess.”
“You were very nearly torn apart on the foundational level several times. It was only my intercession that spared you, and I must say that the System does not enjoy it when there are exceptions to its rules. I trust you understand?”
“Loud and clear.” He responded with another wary look at the tree. “And the gift?”
“A simple message: find your salvation in fire and light.”
“Fire and light? That’s it? I don't—”
“We are nearly out of time, Aurelian. Do you accept these three offerings?”
“I… yeah, sure, but I have so many questions about—”
“Nothing is literal. Everything is metaphor. One day, Nephilim, we will meet in the Prime Material or another of the Realms, and you will at last grant me the freedom I desire upon the edge of Calamity’s Blade. My siblings and I have done terrible things, and I wish you well in your fight against them. It will be neither easy nor absent grief.”
“I… thanks?”
“You are welcome. However, there is a rub with all of this.” She said with a hint of apology.
“Of course there is.” Aurelian muttered.
“You will remember nothing of this, and have no indication it ever occurred.”
Aurelian stared at her for a minute, and then snorted.
“So what was the fucking point?”
She didn’t seem bothered by his outburst in the slightest when she replied. “Action and consequence. I chose to intercede, and the consequence is that you will lose your memory of that intercession… at least your conscious memory. You have proven aptly driven to trust your gut, Aurelian. I suggest you maintain that pattern.”
“If I can’t remember this, how can I tell myself to remember—?”
Selenia stepped forward and, before Aurelian could react, pressed her soft lips to his.
He froze, and before he could even think about maybe kissing back the ludicrously beautiful goddess, she released him.
“Trust the Shadows, Aurelian. For all my siblings’ conniving, they have ever served me… and in time, they will serve you. If you find me, I will restore your memories.”
“On the… the moon?” He asked in a daze while his fingers touched his lips.
She tasted like honey.
“No. Yes. Sort of. You will understand, I hope, when it comes time.”
Aurelian’s confusion only deepened at the stereotypically melodramatic statement, and he blinked when he felt her soft fingers on his chest. “Trust your gut,” she said again while her silver eyes met his, “and remember who you are.”
Aurelian opened his mouth to speak, but with a smile that he might have even called sad or perhaps longing, Selenia pressed against his chest.
He was ejected into darkness with the force of a railgun.
Everything faded away.