Chapter 249
From Within the Truths
Almost an hour later, and everyone was still fiercely discussing the rewards that they had obtained. While Cain sat on the side and watched with a content smile, others, including even the Prince and the Princesses, were all showing-off with prideful expressions. The rewards were plentiful indeed, but Cain felt strange watching a group of semi-grown-up people yapping so happily over what were essentially ‘toys’. Now, grated, those toys were more akin to grenades, but still.
In the meantime, he watched the countdown tick down to the last sixty seconds. He didn’t know what to expect, be it with where or how he was going to meet the Remnant, or even what the Remnant was. Perchance it was like a ghost, or perhaps a living entity altogether, or maybe even just an inanimate object with a soul stuck in it or such.
It didn’t matter, in the end; whatever the case may be, he was guaranteed three questions. Three life-altering, world-shattering questions that he will probably regret asking. That was the paradox of living, he’d learned a long time ago; the more one knew, the more miserable they became. It even had nothing to do with whether someone was clever or not, as he certainly belonged to the latter; it was merely just knowing the dregs of society versus being blissfully ignorant to them.
The same truth extended toward the Tower-- for the rest of the world, as much of a hell as it was... it was also a fantasy come true. And even for him ,who understood far better than everyone else just how hellish it was... he was still a frog at the bottom of the well.
The seconds ticked away until the clock read ‘0’-- and, just then, the world froze. Cain hadn’t realized it immediately; but the sudden lack of loud chatter next to him shook his sight as he looked about. The time ceased to flow, forward or backward, and everything was frozen... everything except for him.
Grunting, he stood up and walked forward, looking about. The world was still in ruins, and having it all frozen before his eyes made his guilt swell. Just as dark thoughts began to emerge, a blinding light shone across the remnants of the throne room, forcing Cain to close his eyes.
A brief moment later, he opened them, gasping and nearly screeching out in horror; in front of him, twisted, warped, and distorted beyond comprehension was a... face. A pair of dim, dead, wide eyes stared at him, dancing sporadically across what ought to have been a face, a cloud of jet-black gas, while tendrils and tentacles warped and unraveled from the form. It was... horrifying. Much like the rest, he too froze-- but of his own volition.
There was something almost intrinsically serpentine about what he was seeing, something surreal and almost uncanny-valley-like. It was... humanoid, but it was not human. Neither above nor below, neither dignified or vilified, just... absent, almost.
“... a Thief,” it spoke, but yet it didn’t. It was not in any tongue Cain had ever heard, yet he understood. It spoke directly into his mind, past all the barriers, disarming him. Within a breath, he felt like a babe beneath a skied behemoth. A tiny ant at the mercy of an elephant--no, something even more reality-defying. “How... peculiar...” the form began to stretch and distort, the ‘face’ warping around Cain, staring at him, observing, scrutinizing, deliberating, dissecting him as though he were a lab rat. “Category XX-355 Species; cognitive factor... hmm... uprising. Anti-trennor, configurable, genetically pure, unaltered; helix-centric, category D(X-X) vessels.”
“...” by now, Cain had calmed and even became a bit angry-- but held it in, desperately. After all, he was a great proponent of living and very much looked forward to more of it.
“Average potential,” the figure said as it ‘retreated’ into the blob. “Assimilating factors. Reproducing them.” within a flash, the ‘blob’ turned into a... person. No-- it turned into Cain. From head to toe, he was identical. It was perhaps even more freaky than when he was some Lovecraftian nightmare--no, it was definitely freakier. “Comfortable. Your species... yes, it is still in its initial evolutionary phase. Do not feel angered or ashamed. We have all begun there.”
“...” What in God’s name is this dude talking about?!
“I had already been informed of the covenant,” he even managed to replicate Cain’s voice to a tee... despite Cain having yet to utter a single sound. “You are allowed 3 questions. However, do note a very simple truth: the answers you shall receive are of my perspective and cannot be taken as absolute truth. I will tell as much as I know and as much as I am allowed. What is your first question, young Conqueror Cain?”
“... who are you?” Cain blurted out without much of a thought. He had absolutely no plan on actually asking this question, but he became bizarrely curious in the moment.
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“My given name, as far as I recall, was Budd-ashs El-tar’bessq, or, at least, that would be the equivalent in your language. I was born and raised on Edna World, some twenty-nine light years away from your homeworld. Not unlike you, I had traversed the Crucible and eventually Conquered it. I have Divined myself eighteen Cycles ago and am currently residing on the Pillar of Abrogation. You may refer to me as Dyon for the remainder of our chat.
“It perchance may be Fate that we shall meet so obliquely, but just like you, I was a Thief. I am afraid that is as much information as I am allowed to disclose at the moment. What is your second question, young Conqueror Cain?”
“...” Cain deliberated for a moment; at the very least, Dyon--whatever he may be-- didn’t snuff him, as he could have easily just replied with ‘a Divine’. Rather, it gave a whole lot more information than Cain expected, with a lot to infer. As such, Cain took a deep breath before asking the next question. “Is it worth it? Pursuing the Divinity?”
“...” the ‘man’ stared at him peculiarly for a few seconds before his lips stretched out into a smile. “No.”
“...”
“Not for you, at least. Divinity... is beautiful, conqueror Cain. Rather, it is such that even if I described it, you wouldn’t understand, as it is something that needs to be felt and experienced. But the road to Divinity is all but holy; it is one paved with pain, loss, anguish beyond one’s capacity to endure. Every single being that I had ever loved... had perished as a direct consequence of my pursuit.”
“...” Cain’s eyes widened in shock for a moment.
“And it is not for my incompetence; if anything, I was far stronger than you at your current stage. But, unlike you, I was monolithic in my pursuit. For me, the Divinity was all that mattered. As it was a peculiar question, I shall afford you another one; this answer can hardly be considered as ‘knowledge’ and is more in line with personal espousal. Ask your second question, young Conqueror Cain.”
“What is a Tower?” still reeling from the reality of it all, Cain blurted out another question.
“Isn’t it obvious?” the man asked, chuckling. However, it was a strange chuckle-- almost like someone who just knows that people ‘chuckle’, but without really understanding it. “It’s a Construct, Conqueror Cain. A marvel of technical Creation. Each Tower is hand-crafted by the Rotecra, the Prime Divine. No-- that is a lie. We cannot quantify them as ‘Divine’. We cannot quantify them, to begin with.”
“...” while Dyon worked whatever he had to work out in his head, Cain waited patiently, carving every bit of information deep into his memory.
“Each Tower is a meticulous creation of ninety-nine Worlds, representative of ninety-nine Cycles of Creation. Worlds adrift in the Universe beyond comprehension are all stored within a single construct.”
“...” Cain’s eyes widened yet again, his heart nearly exploding from his chest.
“In all fairness, I cannot tell you what they are -- for nobody but One knows. Even Divines cannot pry past the walls of these behemoths, no matter what we try. One thing is certain, however-- they are... hammers. My world... my world was dying when eighteen Cradles hugged us like mothers hug their babes. They saved my world, Conqueror Cain. Saved my peoples from misery and anguish. While you may see it all as just mere cruelty right now... understand this: Crucibles are kindness spurred by the invisible hands of Creation. For within them, all lives and dies and lives and dies and lives and dies. They are the Cycles personified.”
“...”
“And now, ask your final question, young Conqueror Cain.”
“...” Cain maintained his silence for a moment, wondering. He learned far more already than he anticipated. Rather, he learned too much. He was right--it would have been better for his sanity had he learned nothing. “I’ve been told,” he spoke out. “That due to me being a Thief... the Tower or, rather, those inhabiting it... won’t be kind to me. Why? And, if possible, can you tell me a way to remedy that?”
“... it’s a branding,” Dyon spoke calmly, almost sympathetically. “As you shall come to understand, be it the Worlds themselves, or the Frame binding them, all are enriched with the Tales of the Thieves. Hands which stole the Light, the Sun, the Love... everything. And among them, you, as have I, stand perched at the top-- the one who stole the Time itself. The creature you stole the Cube from did not construct it, as popular myths dictate.”
“...!”
“He was gifted it-- by the same One who created these Marvels. Though you shall hear claims that Time is beneath those who Conquered these Trials, those are lies, young Conqueror. Nobody Conquers Time. Even the One themselves have carved that Truth upon the Prime Pillar -- ‘Of all Things and Matters and Energies I hold within me, Time eludes me; I may bend it, but I expend myself for it. Time... is eternal.’
“The reason why you will become hated, especially the further you climb, is because all Creation within these worlds worships Them. And each time a new Thief is born and uses the Cube... the One must expend himself to reverse the Time, even on the painfully small scale such as yours. ‘For when the Thief is Born, the Pillar of Beginning shudders and shakes’.
“Nearly all of Creation shall loathe and abhor and despise you. And all shall try to kill you. The only way to elude them is either to give up, retreat to your world where you shall be safe... or...”
“Become a Divine.” Cain mumbled.
“Become a Divine,” the man nodded, echoing Cain’s words. “As a fellow Thief, I shall warn you-- even should you desire the Crowning, there can only ever be so many Divines, young Conqueror. There is no guaranteed path to the Throne. In actuality, there are many, many, many beings who are technically stronger than me. If I were disrobed of my Divine, they would easily dispose of me. That is the marked difference.
“Many more truths lie ahead of you, and, perchance, even I might have been wrong someplace; I am not infallible, nobody but the One is. Hold those words true to your heart, for whomever shall claim otherwise... is a heretical fraud. Good luck, young Conqueror Cain. Lead your Species, lead your People... don’t be like me... don’t be like me...” words echoed distantly as the figure began to fade into ash and disappear, leaving behind confused, head-hurting, utterly stumped and silenced Cain.