"The only condition is that you must repay with an insight of equivalent value."

The moment the words landed, Mr. Axiom snapped his fingers.

Tak!

In an instant, everything shook, and a pillar emerged behind him. A pillar whose surface morphed like it was some malleable fluid. From half its height to the towering dome, an arc extended to either side, and from it emerged chains.

Illeana stared, transfixed, her carefully cultivated composure forgotten. The outlandish declaration and the unfolding transformation before her consumed her thoughts entirely.

Anything!? How…how is that even possible?

She glanced at her company, finding them even more bewildered than herself.

The pillar behind Mr. Axiom continued its metamorphosis. At the ends of the chains, lustrous plates emerged, glowing with intricate symbols and diagrams that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Within moments, a cosmic weighing scale loomed behind the masked figure—a celestial instrument of balance that defied comprehension. Its massive arms seemed to stretch into infinity yet remained confined within the boundaries of Nexus.

Each arm was adorned with similar intricate symbols that pulsed with an uncanny energy. The scale's fulcrum was an infinitely complex contraption, hiding gears and levers that might very well be encompassing the equation of the world's balance.

As she gazed upon this instrument, a profound sense of awe and insignificance overwhelmed her. She'd begun to feel comfortable in the presence of Mr. Axiom, but this was a grim reminder of just how different their status was.

He was a being who embodied the balance of very reality, and for some reason, she'd begun to think she could understand his plans. Hahh, I need to do better.

A wry smile formed on her lips as the man in a white robe in her peripheral shook violently. Without delay, his knees hit the ground, and he buried his head as he mindlessly repeated, "God. God. God. God. God. God…"

The guy who was first suppressed by Mr. Axiom curled up into himself as he watched on with shuddering eyes.

Rest weren't too different. The skeptical ones gasped, taking a step back while the others were dumbfounded.

Illeana barely managed to wrench her eyes away from the cosmic contraption as she tried to decipher the meaning of it all.

A question. But why? And what about the condition of repaying with an insight of equivalent value?

Yet, something clicked in her head the very next instant. That's what the scale is for! To determine the value of the question and the insights.

She nodded, finally feeling like she was getting somewhere. Yet, something still felt off.

What does this have to do with my question? Mr. Axiom had initiated this change after she'd asked him how to 'realize her potential.'

Think!

She had to decipher his intentions, at least partially. Every word from Mr. Axiom held countless secrets, and only by looking beyond the surface could she make an informed decision about the unfolding events.

Why allow us to question him anything?

Why the condition?

Why the scale?

Without hesitation, Illeana closed her eyes for a split second and activated her Emotional Vault. She'd just argued against using it, but she wasn't so stubborn as to ignore the gravity of the situation.

One breath. Two breaths. Three—

I see! She snapped her eyes open, dispelling the emotional vault right away.

It was clear. This is a test!

To see who can ask the right questions. To gauge whether we can strike the right balance or not.

She tried to determine the implications of such a thing, and came to the conclusion that while she'd most probably reached the right conclusion, she couldn't risk it. I'll need to let others test the waters for me.

After all, a promise of an answer from a god-like being wasn't to be wasted on conjectures.

----------------------------------------

Vern internally praised Miss Witness's handiwork as he observed the gigantic scale through his perception. Its structure was even grander than what he'd asked her to create.

Yet, he couldn't spend too long basking in its majesty. His nerves were strung far too high to be distracted by small successes.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

He'd just made the most absurd claim in his life, and now he needed to deliver it flawlessly. He'd given it a lot of thought, and after tens of discarded strategies, he'd settled on this one.

His goal with this absurd claim was twofold. First, it would solidify his image as someone with nigh-infinite insight who could offer them tangible benefits. Second, it would allow him to gain valuable knowledge himself.

While he could have likely established his reputation through safer means, his intuition told him this eclectic crowd was the perfect audience for such a risk. The mix of skeptics and supporters created an ideal environment for his bold gambit.

Well, it's not like I will really answer everything. He doubted anyone in their sane mind would waste the chance to ask something absurd just to see him trip, but even if they did, he had many tricks up his sleeve to handle them.

He tried to reassure himself, It's all under control, but his nervousness and a touch of stage fright lingered. Curiously, no one inquired about the cosmic backdrop behind him—their faces a canvas of varied expressions.

Shaking off his unease, he mentally addressed his companion, "Miss Witness, could you provide a seat for me? I'd prefer minimizing the chances of revealing my nervousness."

"As you wish, kind one," came her reply.

The scale behind him hadn't cost as much as he expected, so the flux used up to conjure a chair was bound to be even less significant.

A high-backed throne of swirling gray mist materialized behind him. Appreciating her eye for aesthetics, he settled into the seat, resting his elbows on the armrests and his chin atop interlocked fingers. With newfound composure, he addressed the crowd, "Shall we begin?"

.

.

.

Silence greeted him, which he welcomed. Each quiet moment worked in his favor as he sensed the singularity of Axiom growing more tangible through their collective thoughts. Though not even close to the level he achieved by the end of the Confluence, the change was significant.

He had successfully navigated away from danger and was steadily approaching stability. Not to mention the butterfly effect this would have after their eventual departure. It was an exhilarating prospect.

After exchanging nervous glances, the elderly gentleman finally spoke up. "Forgive my impertinence, Great One, but what happens if we cannot repay with an equivalent insight?"

Vern shook his head, "This isn't a deal with the devil. You can ask the question, but you'll only receive an answer if your payment can tip the scales."

That's when that confrontational warrior woman butted in, "Yes, but how can we believe you?" She gestured wildly, seeking support from the others. Pointing accusingly at Vern, she demanded, "What if you lie about the value of our insights?"

Vern's eyes turned cold, and he willed a subtle pressure to cage her subjectivity. The woman's face instantly turned pale, but she maintained a facade of defiance.

She'd disrespected him enough times, and he'd let it go until now to display his magnanimity. But she was pushing her luck. While too much cruelty or repeated show of might wasn't his way of going about things, he wasn't about to let her step all over him either.

With a deep sigh, he uttered, "I've given you courtesy enough." Matching his internal thoughts, the cosmic scale behind him tipped in one direction as an ominous red aura flared from its fulcrum.

He waved his hand as a mental command made his way to Miss Witness.

"You may remain silent from now on. You may not ask me any questions. You may not engage with others. And while I won't force you out, you're free to leave," with that, he turned away, dismissing her entirely from his mind.

.

.

.

Illeana couldn't help but marvel at Mr. Axiom's patience. If this woman dared be this brazen in Father's court, he would have removed her from the very history itself.

Well, that's why he's the arbiter of Balance, I guess. Mr. Axiom's actions were never overbearing, always seeking to find a fair middle ground.

Shaking her head, she scoffed, "You really think Mr. Axiom needs to steal from the likes of us?"

The rest of the crowd nodded, having nothing but schadenfreude for the woman. She seethed, attempting to protest, but her voice vanished the moment Mr. Axiom issued his decree.

Illeana wasn't great at reading lips, but it was more than clear that the woman was crying out about the unfairness or something. It was genuinely astonishing how some people could overestimate their own importance so grossly.

Almost made her wonder if there were certain shade sequences that demanded a perspective of such stubborn narcissism.

Once the woman was handled, the cosmic scale reset into a neutral position, and the masked figure leaned in, declaring in an elegant voice, "For the rest, know that the worth of your question and insight is correlated to their cosmic relevance."

Illeana nodded. It only made sense that such a being observed things at a grand level she couldn't even fathom. Yet, this made her task a little harder. She had to adjust her question as well as the insight she had to offer.

This was a test to determine who had the potential to become the fulcrums of reality. She couldn't mess it up, not like this.

As she lost herself in contemplation, someone actually rose to the challenge. It was the burly man.

His head bowed, he asked in a loud voice, "Thank you for this gracious gift, Lord Axiom, it is ever appreciated. So, I must tell you—I shaded my perception a third time to advance from a Raincaller to a Tidecaller a while ago. Yet, to this day, I'm unable to form a tide worthy of its name."

"If you permit, I can perform a quick demonstration for you to judge."

Illeana watched the exchange intently, finding her horizons broadened by such a selfish question. For some reason, she didn't even think in this direction. Her line of thought had been about the overworld and cosmos for some reason.

Soon, the masked figure nodded.

Emboldened by having his proposal accepted, the burly man quickly took a more stable stance and extended his arms outward.

Illeana distanced herself from the man, not in the mood to become collateral and end up drenched.

Yet, she soon realized that her worries were unfounded. The man couldn't even stabilize a layer of water, much less a tide.

Behind him, a fragile wall of water began to take shape, each drop condensing from the air and adding to its height. The moment he attempted to push the wall forward, it crumbled, sending the meager water splashing to the ground, forming a small puddle.

To her surprise, no one laughed. Instead, they seemed lost, trying to understand the problem themselves. Illeana didn't even bother. She understood little to nothing of perspectives that conjured elements.

She never studied the tomes related to such topics, and she had no plans of ever doing so. She didn't want to taint her viewpoint with subpar schools of thought—like elemental theories or the soul theory. She firmly believed that listening was her true path to power.

Rest, while potentially useful, wasn't worth spending her limited time on.

So, she waited, wanting to see how Mr. Axiom would handle this. He somehow already comprehends the viewpoint of everyone who came for the confluence—even Eternas. She bet this was probably too easy for Mr. Axiom.

Whirr!

Yet, before she could overthink it, the cosmic scale began to shift, and the fulcrum rotated in one direction.

It is happening!