Chapter 139 - The Council of Overseers

Vern debated whether he should finally speak up and join the fray because even though Rupert was a sly fox, he genuinely seemed invested in finding solutions for the betterment of the world.

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Hmm, I don't know.

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After a short while, he decided not to engage. It wasn't out of fear of speaking in front of this group or an irrational need to stay hidden. No, it was more fundamental than that.

My vision for reality doesn't really align with these circumstances. As much as he loathed to accept it, his idea of aligning subtle balances of the world wouldn't be very effective in the current state of society. A relatively stable world was needed as a prerequisite for his balance to work well.

As things stood, a worldwide subtle balance would be shattered at the drop of a hat. There were too many disruptive elements that could tip the scale to extremes.

Seems like I've quite some work ahead of myself. he sighed and focused on the discussion at hand.

One after another, visionaries proposed their ideas, only to be shot down promptly by others or Rupert himself. Someone even suggested they end the world once and for all, leaving nothing but these Visionaries as the sole survivors. That person was promptly silenced using Nexus's moderation methods.

After about an hour of heated discourse, sour expressions covered everyone's faces. Many were ready to lunge at the throat of others, and sub-structures had appeared in this overall hierarchy—factions of those with the same ideas.

The problem was that most plans had glaring flaws that either made them entirely unfeasible or outright destructive due to their side effects. There were definitely mild ones that advocated some form of peace, kind of like Vern's balance, but they were shot down on account of not wanting to waste this opportunity for paltry results.

Vern still had no clue how to express that the world wasn't on as short of a lease as Rupert made it out to be, and they should think a bit more long-term.

Well, this proceeding isn't even about 'rejuvenating' the weft anymore. He doubted that any of them would be satisfied with just rejuvenation now that Rupert had dangled such a tantalizing bait of infinite insight in front of everyone.

He scratched his head. This was a problem.

After another few of them argued to their heart's content, Rupert finally slammed down his cane and commanded, "ENOUGH."

His three closed eyes bore down on everyone, and he spoke in a measured tone, "I believe this discussion has made it crystal clear that none of you have the vision required to steer our dying world in a better direction."

He tipped his chin upwards, "Some of the viewpoints presented today are as shallow as the arguments made for them and lack the boldness as well as subtlety needed to lead the civilization to its height."

His lips curved into a disdainful sneer, "Whereas others are too radical, hoping to upend and destroy the very fabric of existence."

Tap! "As much as I enjoy hearing myriads of opinions and absorbing them, we don't have the luxury to do so for much longer. The nexus has its limits, and we shall reach a consensus before we're all expelled."

"According to my superior judgment, only three viable solutions were proposed throughout this meeting." He first pointed at himself, "My mandate of Omniscience," then at a group of people in dark veils, "Elysian Circle's interdimensional sanctuary edict," then pointed at a man in the fifth row, "and finally Mr. Kanin's blitzkrieg approach."

"We shall vote on which one to proceed with, shortly. All of these have their own pros and cons."

"Agreeing on Interdimensional sanctuary edict would mean we essentially give up on billions of denizens and this realm itself as we relocate the weft to a smaller manmade dimension."

"Mr. Kanin's idea is a nuanced one. Forcefully erasing the memories of the horrors we faced in the past weeks from a unified perspective would indeed weaken all malicious beings for a short while. In that small span of time, all of us would have to take out the most egregious perpetrators."

He nodded, "It's a beautiful strategy with essentially no long-term negatives. However, that's its shortcoming, too. New monstrosities that come our way would be entirely unaffected by this plan, and we wouldn't be able to execute another critical consensus with such effectiveness once more."

"Finally." He smiled, "There's my mandate of Omniscience that perfectly solves all our problems with minimal sacrifices. Some suggest that it intrudes on one's autonomy, but that's as far from truth as possible."

"As I've explained, I don't intend to dictate how anyone lives their life. All that matters to me is one doesn't collude with outsiders or propagate the pollution."

The Eterna lady interjected with a flat tone, "And we're supposed to take you on your word? Haven't you seen what happens to dictators once the power gets to their heads?"

A hint of anger flashed on Rupert's face, and he replied sharply, "A selfish woman who ignores the pleas of our realm has no right to censure me. Either stop speaking or propose a better solution. I am not a mere aspirant to tyranny, seeking power for power’s sake. Every step I plan to take, every sacrifice I propose, is aimed at the future well-being of our people."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He pointed his cane at her and chided, "Desperate times require drastic measures. If you can't accept the burden of our reality, I will. Even if that means going against another Eterna."

That's when the lord of primordial blood, who was filing his nails, cut in, "You are really falling over yourself to rule over us, aren't you, Rupert? Calm down a little, okay? Your eagerness is working against you here. Your mandate or whatever will solve the problems, sure. But the cost of giving up our autonomy is just too much."

With a tone of finality, he closed his eyes, "You will not get me on board with a plan that puts me under you. No matter what."

This actually gave Rupert a pause, and he gripped his cane tighter.

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After a minute of silence, Rupert snapped his head back towards the crowd, showing unprecedented seriousness in all his actions. With a deep breath, he extended his arms forward and proclaimed, "If a monarchy is disagreeable, would an oligarchy fashion everyone’s tastes?"

A sense of unease exploded in Vern. What the fuck is he trying now!?

With his voice rising, Rupert challenged the crowd, "If I alone am unfit to govern, would the visionaries of the realm join me in my quest to usher our civilization to its greatest heights?"

Softer but still filled with intensity, his voice echoed, "Indeed, the burden of our existence is too great for one alone. So I propose—The Council of Overseers."

The crowd's skeptical expressions gave way to curiosity.

He paused for effect, then added, "As overseers, you shall gaze through my eyes and wield influence over the world's thoughts as I do, yet remain untouched by the very oversight you administer."

Eyes scanning the crowd, Rupert proclaimed, "It will be a government unlike any other—formed by the greatest of the minds, tirelessly seeking agreement on the minutest matters to bolster every corner of our domain."

His gaze fierce, he asserted, "We shall dictate the ebb and flow of all that exists. We shall be the sun that incinerates the dark forces to ash and the moon that freezes the waves of wicked thoughts right in their tracks."

With a voice brimming with promise, Rupert envisioned, "Under our guidance, Countries teetering on the brink of disaster will find salvation in our council's wisdom as we knit the fabric of the cosmos closer, mending the tears wrought by lesser gods and misguided observers."

His tone turned solemn, "We shall stand as the guardians at the gates of infinity, the arbiters of fate itself."

With a final flourish, Rupert invited, "As the Council of Overseers, we shall forge our destiny, not from the whispers of capricious deities or the chaotic whims of Elden Ones, but from the strength of our collective resolve."

Then, boring directly into the eyes of his audience with his closed ones, he questioned pointedly, "So tell me, visionaries, does your vision extend beyond the mundane? Do you have what it takes to lead the realm, or you're nothing but a selfish coward who avoids responsibility?"

After a brief pause, with an invisible gaze that seemed to pierce through the very soul, Rupert asked, "Tell me—would you rather be satisfied with mediocrity or become an Overseer of the Council that will change the very face of this world?"

With that, he lowered his arms, the intensity of his proclamation lingering in the air like a tangible force. The crowd was silent, not just in awe of the vision laid before them but in the realization of the monumental shift such a council could herald for the universe and for their very own lives.

Vern's thoughts spiraled, his every sense sharpened to an unbearable keenness. The revelation struck him like a bolt from the blue—this was Rupert's masterstroke.

The realization dawned on Vern that what he had previously dismissed as overly ambitious boasting and narcissism was, in fact, a deliberate feint. Rupert had floated a proposal so outlandish, so utterly against the grain, that rejection was the only possible response.

This maneuver, Vern understood, was not about the proposal itself but about manipulating perceptions—crafting an image of Rupert so ambitious, so power-hungry, that dissenters would unite in their disdain. Yet, the true genius lay in the aftermath: offering his critics a share in this newfound power, a chance to shape the world alongside him.

As Vern's realization deepened, a subtle tremor took hold of his hands. His breathing quickened, a physical testament to the alarm ringing silent and clear in his mind. Fuck. This is bad.

What was the difference between one power-hungry observer controlling the world versus fifty? In a world with billions of humans, such a small number of individuals, especially the ones as…crazy, polarizing, and self-serving as these visionaries, could never represent even a fraction of the population.

Heck, if such people were given the reins of this world to play god, there was no telling what kind of future was in store for everyone.

Damn.

His intuition for structure told him of a stability that suddenly permeated this otherwise volatile hierarchy made up of many factions. It was as if everyone was of one mind and on board with this idea.

Vern surveyed the hall, and the shining eyes all around him were more than enough proof of the current tide.

A sense of instability exploded within his thought space. If nothing is done about this, people all around the world will undoubtedly lose their autonomy.

Rupert claimed he wouldn't interfere with one's regular thoughts, and Vern called bullshit. Rupert was a man of deception. Someone who cared for the planet wouldn't go out of his way to slaughter the world's fundamentalists. The people who'd have been invaluable in rebuilding the society post-duskfall.

Not just that, King Keras's words made it clear that Rupert had planned everything right from the start. He first acted like he would be sending someone else from the coven to make Estefans lower their guard and then promptly took out the King—his biggest dissenter at first opportunity.

After that, he'd acted like he was open to others' opinions, but it was all just a sham. They were nothing but comparison points to prove to the crowd that his option was the best for everyone.

Heck, Vern even doubted that Rupert had seeded people in the crowd to respond the way he wanted and push his narrative.

He rubbed his forehead. What do I do?

This was the real ingenuity of Rupert's open scheme. Even though Vern understood the dirty machinations behind it all, it would be a lie to say he wasn't swayed.

The clause 'you shall remain untouched by the very oversight you administer' was sorely tempting. It would mean his secrets would remain his, while he would also get to play god alongside all these people.

On the other hand, not joining them would mean he would instead become a target of their surveillance—an ant under their watchful eyes, and it wouldn't be long before they'd dig their mandibles into his flesh.

Vern ignored the surrounding chatter and rested his head in his hands to sort out his thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, he soon found another angle to perceive this complicated situation.

There were two choices in front of him, both diametrical opposites of each other.

And to such terrible notions, he only had one response. Fuck extremes!

Eyeing his notepad, he reasoned, I will strike a balance.