It is the Congress Of Praetors that hands out Designations. These official recordings of talent, strength, and affinity are holistic and indisputable. We employ them to differentiate potential threats or allies.

All Seafarers, Cellsongs, and Tekpriests have their own Designations above a certain level.

But those that display no exceptional strength, ability, or utility are labeled as such.

A Seafarer by us Romans, a Cellsong for the Glaniecians, and Tekpriests for the Ostaceans. These people can slay Anaphages and the weakest of Anarchies. Should one be above this level or possess unique abilities, then they will soon earn a Designation.

Now, with the usual preamble done, let us begin.

* Yarnen, Anomaly 0, Year 3966, in her Century Report.

The words of Judas forced Dante into a tranquil hum, with the man’s mind pausing momentarily. It affected him so greatly that Nullify sank back in as the boiling emotions, now released, left slight scars in their wake. Dante stared at the figure present only to him. It seemed to want him to survive. Yet... it always spoke so oddly. It had even helped him before in the original fight with Astraeus.

The strangeness of everything pulled his senses back, and Dante’s breath returned to normal. This thing inside his brain was not normal. The human was well aware of that.

And with all the other crazed madness that had seemed to follow him recently, Dante had a simple conclusion.

Judas, this Judas, not my Judas, is dangerous. I don’t know if he’s a Dirge hiding in wait like Astraeus or a brain tumor given power by the Lightsea. I know too little about how this all works. That needs to change. Information is the most significant power in the world, no matter what anyone else may say.

Dante would rather have all the knowledge in the universe than limitless power capable of killing, destroying, or creating anything. That latter creature, to the human, would still be limited by its imagination and knowledge, but the former would have no boundaries. All it would need is to use its expertise, and anything became possible.

Power was everything to the vast majority of life in the Milky Way. Whether it was the ability to shatter a city, planet, or star through fists, guns, or starships, it afforded freedom and luxury.

But still... Dante did not believe knowledge could not overcome raw strength. He felt as though he had proved it against Astraeus, even if only a little.

They were weaker, even as an entire group, but they were careful and precise with their movements and attacks, allowing them to bring out far more potential than should have been possible. Dante enjoyed those feelings.

He tightened his hand and desired to see his ‘crew’ again. They hadn’t truly made one yet, but he was rather fond of his growing team. Rejo, Sonna, Joan, and Lucius were all great help in a fight. Arch wasn’t as much, but Dante knew that was only a matter of time.

The human was confident that if he had enough time and enough information on Thanaris, he could find a way to kill her. Any coffin could be nailed and buried, no matter the wetness of the dirt or the durability of the material. Steel could be heated to be weakened, and tools could be used to dig mud where shovels fail.

It was no different with Judas.

Dante raised his eyes to meet the transparent glass. He would claim his payment early.

Standing just moments after his breakdown, the human wiped at his pants and fixed his shirt. Then, he breathed in deeply before exhaling without facing his innermost enemy, “I don’t know what you are. But I will find out, eventually.”

Judas smiled, invisible to Dante’s departing back, and nodded without noise. Then the figure whispered low enough that the human couldn’t hear, “I can’t wait, Cradle.”

Without Dante’s knowledge, the figure disappeared into nothingness, but as the human turned around, it left a slight imprint on the floor where Judas’ feet had been. It wasn’t anything significant or of import. But the carpet sank inward as if a living being had stood there.

Seconds after, the carpet fixed itself, but Dante was already roaming the governmental building that the Baron called home. The human walked without a set destination, but he spread out his eyes and ears, attempting to search for Thanaris with his extra senses.

Minutes turned into an hour as he found nothing. The building was lifeless, barring the banging coming from the opulent room Astraeus took, Dante’s new partner. Dante sighed as he stood at the entrance, the two shattered glass doors letting wind into the hallway.

He wanted to step out to see what the bloody world looked like after Thanaris’ massacre. Yet the instant he lifted his foot, a voice caught him, one of only two in this entire world remaining, “Were you searching for me?”

After turning to face the scarlet Caesar, Dante nodded his head. His body shivered identically to his previous meetings with this woman, yet he managed to push through it via the drug in his blood, “Yes. I have come for my payment. There is much I do not know. Even less that I can do. You tutoring me aids you, too. As I can—”

“Mhm. I know. You sure love to talk. Talker and Simmer. I think that’s what I’ll call you both. Come. Follow me.” Thanaris waved her hand for Dante to follow her while he stood still, stunned by her agreement. However, he recovered from his surprise in a second and swiftly followed the monstrous figure.

Another round of sixty seconds passed before the two entered a vast circular hall, the kind that was meant for councilmen to speak and lobby in. The bureaucratic hell Dante once ran from and often invaded himself for a payday felt like heaven compared to his current situation.

The room was now destroyed. Whatever came through here during the chaos ruined the seats and tables, leaving the concave room that dipped downward so those at the top could see the center absent of any non-broken furniture.

Thanaris looked down at Dante, staring into his soul as she gave him his first order, “If you can remove that drug, do it now, Talker. This will all be pointless if you remain handicapped. If you cannot, I will do it for you.”

While raising a finger with serpentining lines of blood, the Anacrux grinned mischievously, hoping that he would decline. In exchange, a long, emotionless sigh comprising the awareness of what would come next entered and exited Dante’s lungs. The man clutched his hand as he reached out for the Lightsea and his Stigmata, the mark of the entity stamped into him.

At first, Dante struggled to find the connection, the link, but as pure willpower gradually overwhelmed Nullify as the seconds ticked, Dante felt it, the piece of him that was forever indebted to the Lightsea.

It was a sensation impossible to describe, as always. But when he pulled on the ephemeral muscle, he felt his body change. He regarded it almost as an outward presence as it reverted while his mind stayed the same.

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“Interesting. A Stigmata that sets you back to a preset condition? Quite… familiar. I think I’ve heard of something similar before…” Thanaris lifted a hand to her chin, rubbing it before she shook her head. “No. I’m just imagining things. Hmm. I’m a fan of simpler names. Reset sounds good, don’t you think, Talker?”

As her question entered the air, Dante’s eyes went wide, and his breath hitched.

It was that moment. He felt it. The sensation of his entire body, his entire being, his entire set of DNA screaming to run, to flee, and to submit. There was not an ounce of him that wished to fight or stand. His figure bent as his knees wobbled and shivered. He couldn’t fathom how Astraeus adapted to this sensation. It was total… submission.

It wasn’t something he could simply fight against. But those weren’t all the cards dealt. What he had done under the effects of the drug caught up with him.

He left himself to die, something he would never have done in the past, likely even if he swore a promise. On top of that, the millions, perhaps hundreds of millions, that lived on this planet were now dead. The rivers of blood flowing in the streets made him sick.

Furthermore... he had agreed to do far worse. He had signed off to be this mass murderer’s judge, jury, and executioner. He would go where she asked, and there was nothing he could do otherwise but die. If he wanted to investigate such things, too, then he would have to deal with the puppeteers in the shadows.

And finally... the figure in his head. Judas.

Hyperventilation would have been a blessing for Dante as he simply couldn’t breathe. Air wouldn’t move in the slightest as the Caesar giggled at his condition. She was enjoying his suffering like a cat torturing their prey, “Pfft! What? Nothing to say, Talker? That’s alright. Just listen.”

Dante’s brain hemorrhaged for seconds as he flickered in and out of existence. Not a single part of him wanted to be there with Thanaris, but he heard her every word, nonetheless.

“You’ve got a pretty good start with your Tides. Emotion is the source. That is why we, Seablessed, are so much better at it. Not because we control our emotions, but because we embrace them. Plus, when we kill those from this dimension, we can devour their emotions and imbibe them to fuel our own,” Thanaris held out a hand as she spoke, creating a swirling mass of undulating blood.

Throughout all her words, Dante’s condition continued to deteriorate, but she didn’t care. If anything, Thanaris wanted him to worsen. She craved the future where the human let himself loose. After all, what kind of person had to drug themselves to not feel? What could such a man do when no longer restraining themselves?

The Anacrux saw a future within Dante. Her Stigmata contained hallucinating dreams, but with her vast mastery over it, she could read others’ dreams, their ambitions.

Dante’s dreams were obscured, covered in soot, dust, and dirt. Beneath the grime, however, the Dirge’s flesh shivered.

Eager, Thanaris observed Dante with all four eyes, the two slits beneath the main ones opening slightly, “There are seven kinds of Tides, with Hydro, Cryo, and Thermo being the bases with middle-grounds. The seventh are those like me,” she swiped her hand as the blood undulated until it formed the word ‘Necto’ before the droplets splashed across the ground. “Now, contrary to what most believe, even some Seablessed, too, you are not limited to what you awaken.”

“You can learn the others, but the further they are, the less effective they will be and the more of a waste of time it will be. Those closest to your Hydro are Miro and Frigo,” Thanaris tapped her temple along with her tutoring, finding a realization. “Oh, you probably don’t know the names. That’s Humidity and Snow. Now, only experts branch out, but it is good to be aware of.”

The Caesar then drew closer to Dante as his heart thumped with a fervor that threatened to blow out his arteries. She knelt, her dress spreading out across the rubble to meet the dying man.

“See? Now we’re getting somewhere. It’s all building up. The shit you’ve pushed so deep that no one could ever pull out besides you. Be the one to retrieve it. I want you to fill this room with Hydro. If you cannot do that, then you are not as useful as I’ve been led to believe,” Thanaris left her threat unsaid, knowing Dante to be wise enough to catch on to her meaning.

If the man could not do as she asked, she would kill him. It was as simple as that. She saw a grand ambition and incredible potential, but if it could not be fathomed, then it didn’t matter.

A shiver ran through the human’s form as it felt like he was going to die, regardless of what she did. He couldn’t understand what was happening. Why was there so much? What was he feeling? Why now?

Countless questions ransacked his mind, but there were no answers handed to him. All he had were ten ice-cold digits that caressed the back of his ears before tightening painfully on his head and locking his gaze forward.

“Now! Do it now! Release it all! Work for power first, then we can create finesse. That is the way my people do it!”

Nails dug into Dante’s flesh, prickling his skull with a looming death.

His heart finally stopped, paused by the lack of air he had been ingesting. The panic of such a calm man had broken his innards, but the man did not want to die. He fought to live against his own body and his own mind.

“Five.” The nails sank through flesh and met bone. Still, Dante couldn’t focus. He was furious at himself for coming here to train. It was stupid, a completely irrational—

“Four.” Crimson keratin drilled into the bone of his skull, the incessant crackling noises kicking Dante into concentration. He worked best under pressure, yet this was too much. All his past hid under a rug in his brain, tossed into a corner, though here it emerged, doubled by the recent frenzy.

“Three.” At the halfway mark, Thanaris broke past the skull but lingered on the outside, not yet delving into the human’s brain. A hurricane of sickness built within Dante as he finally moved his hands. They clasped together as he closed his eyes.

He reached outward, grasping for the thing that could save h—

“Two.” This time, the countdown damaged his focus as his entire world shook. The nails entered brain matter and changed the colors that the man saw. His world grew red, all dyed a bloody rose.

Nonetheless, he fought for life, no matter the situation. Humans were hardy creatures, their instincts too powerful to be so easily overcome. No matter the danger or the risk, no human ever truly wanted to die.

Even while falling from a bridge they had pushed themselves from, they would realize that they, indeed, wanted to live. A noose revealed to anyone just how vital their life was. Dante experienced such before, as he had pulled the hammer too many times to count, yet couldn’t squeeze the trigger.

Within the depths of his instincts, however, he felt it. While his entire being dipped into the Phlegethon, burning fire racing across his soul, he tugged onto the Lightsea. But nothing came. His hands were dry apart from the sweat and blood.

Why? Why isn’t it working? Am I too tired? Yeah… that must be it.

“One.” The final number was said with depressive intent, Thanaris already judging Dante to be unfit. He hadn’t conjured a single drop of water.

Yet...

The human wasn’t done yet. Even as those nails scrambled his brain and flung him into the Lethe, he refused to succumb. There were things he had to do. Mysteries he had to solve. Places he wanted to see.

There was a complete universe for him to explore, to enjoy. He had spent the first twenty-six years of his life wandering, wasting away while searching for an opportunity. And this was it.

If trained by such a monster...

Dante’s eyes lit up with an azure shine, opening like a hermit in a bloody cave.

She asked me to fill the room with water. I’ll do one better. She wants proof that I’m valuable? She’ll fucking get it.

The rage. The sorrow. The guilt. The grief. The pain. The suffering. The twenty-six years of doing just as his dad had, pushing all the emotions down to never be spoken of or felt again, it all caught up with Dante in a single moment.

Still, he wasn’t one to listen to orders.

A ring of water shot from Dante’s flesh, knocking Thanaris away from him and removing her nails from his skull. The human’s form flittered, the holes in his bones evaporating as he stumbled from the exertion. The discomfort of his Stigmata sharpened his focus. With it, he could ignore the pain. For now.

Before Thanaris could say a word, Dante raised his hand toward the surprised Anacrux, and instead of releasing his water without a hint of control like he had before, he did as he thought was best.

As the man imagined a pressurized water cutter, he wrapped his forefinger and middle finger around each other, exploiting their meeting point as the blasting site.

All at once, the years emerged from Dante.

A stream of energized liquid more similar to a beam of plasma than a faucet detonated from Dante’s twin fingers, burning right for Thanaris. The Caesar raised a single arm as a shield of blood twisted around her forearm to block the blast, but Dante twisted his tendons, and the impact point shifted, striking her right in the heart.

Upon shooting straight through the wall and the one behind it, Thanaris vanished from Dante’s view. With her absence, the man collapsed to his hands and knees without an ounce of strength remaining. Despite his weakness, oxygen now filled his lungs with precious life.

For a slim second, Dante thought he had killed her, but he quickly realized how foolish such a thought was.

Footsteps resounded for several seconds until a face plunged through the wall’s cavity. Ruby irises blinked at him with a grin, “Well done. From now on, I won’t threaten your life. You have passed the Rite Of Caesar, or Fear, as all fear their lord. To my people, it means you have the potential to reach my level,” Thanaris said while patting Dante’s face. Still, she wasn’t finished, congratulating him in her own way further. “If one can’t do something so mundane as to surpass their fears while embracing them... well... they will never be more than capable of leveling a city.”

Dante’s vision flickered in and out while Thanaris picked him up by the scuff of his shirt and dragged him from the room. Her voice hummed softly, reminiscing of her own past, “I recall when I did that Rite. It was... the closest I’ve ever come to death. The Rites of Time and Pain were easy,” Thanaris paused for a moment, her breath almost shaky. “Fear… was not. One day, I hope to reach Evolution and overcome my birth.”

Then she fell silent for a moment, standing still in the center of the hallway. Her memories of her ascensions between Anachronism, Anathema, and Anacrux stuck with her profoundly. It was unusual that a Dirge recalled all of their trails, as many died and reincarnated with their strength centuries later. Those that did, however… did not look upon them with fondness.

Such was the glaring difference between sentients and Dirge. The latter had to pursue strength, taking from others while supplementing with their own, and even then, they faced boundaries and limits, only surpassed with fatal Rites. Sentients, however, grew slow and steady, hindered only by their talent, dedication, and resources.

Many Seafarers had never fought before, and some of those were powerful. Dirge? They were all bloodied warriors. The wakes of dead left behind held common ground between the human and the inhumans.

Dante had learned and suffered much this day, his fading vision witnessing trails of blood flow from the street to the woman’s legs and crawling up the flesh into her body like a sponge. In front of his bewilderment and complete crash, Thanaris spoke, “I see why He let you live. You are an interesting man, Dante Penance. I believe we’ll do great things together.”

With those last words, Dante’s mind fizzled out, only to reformat itself upon being dropped into a bed. He opened his eyes, struggling to stay awake, but he was too exhausted.

He hadn’t properly slept in days. It had only been about two days at this time since Astraeus’ unfinished Domain took root, but he hadn’t slept before that, too. His Reset helped the body, yes, but it did nothing for the mind.

As such, the darkness took him, but it did not do so without a fight. Once asleep, the woman standing over him smiled as she finally found yet another to nurture. Her hand rubbed at the raw spot on her chest, and she laughed audaciously before leaving the room. A lone thought sank into the depths of her mind, contrasting her joyful sounds.

This way… ‘Straeus won’t be alone after I’m gone.