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Prologue

One question, two visions.

"What would happen if we were to alter the Verdant Steel processing conduit?"

Considering the importance of the processing conduit to the whole operation, Mulah seeked Sepphira's help with the Evil-eye to minimize the risk of his effort moving forward. Instead, he was greeted with shocking premonitions.

The second one was what he saw if he were to fail.

'A planet of brown and gray shades. The atmosphere was long gone so the endless empty space outside was in plain view. Harsh wind and sandstorms ravaged the entire planet, since there was no atmosphere protecting the planet, it was battered with relentless radioactive winds sent by the dying star. There were no signs of life to be seen.

This could no longer be considered a planet. The second celestial body that had been orbiting the star was now just a huge chunk of space rock, with a major part of it missing, floating endlessly to further reaches of space.

This was a dead planet.'

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Although this vision was really shocking, and obviously nothing would be comparably grimmer than the death of the planet, it was the first vision, of what would happen if he were to succeed, that rocked him to the core.

'It was a world of war and destruction. The whole world was locked in its axis, bound in its spot while time and space continuously moved around it. It was slowly being torn apart. Lights of temporal time locks descended from the sky, pierced the planet, and came out the other side. There were hundreds of these columns of light and each one was enormous in proportions.

Inside each of them were multitudes of living beings: humans, elves, dwarves, giants, mythical beasts, deities, every manner and kinds of living creatures; locked in space and time. Their faces were a color of desperation and unwillingness.

Outside the region of these temporal time locks, waves of various kinds of warriors came in a concentric ring. Their faces were desperate and terrified, but they were still furious and unwilling. They were ready to engage in the ultimate battle, the last one, to face the one enemy they all dreaded.

In the center of this concentric ring of warriors stood a mountain and from this mountain came the biggest column of light of temporal lock. This was the power source of all the other temporal locks.

In front of this main temporal lock stood a man that was the sole enemy of all the warriors. He stood on top of the mountain by himself, in his left hand a giant flag with a single word written on it: Power.

The man on top of the mountain looked down at the waves of warriors, written in his eyes were an insurmountable will of slaughter and annihilation.

This man was Satoshi.'

Mulah came back from his recollection of what he had seen in his visions this afternoon. He opened his eyes and looked at Satoshi, he saw the face of the man on the mountain.

Satoshi looked back and repeated his question, "What is 'the' Power?"

Mulah's heart was in turmoil. Should he answer, or should he not answer Satoshi's question?

"It is the Power Tribunal"

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