Orion awoke in a snap, senses rushing forward in a confusing avalanche. The first thing he saw was Arika and the rest of his team surrounding him. They were sitting on a black surface, surrounded by a sea of people.
The next thing he noticed was the blanket of stars above him, set on a midnight-black sky, interspersed with countless galaxies—they had returned to where they’d been introduced to this world. He looked at the faces surrounding him, some of which he recognized from Valbrand.
Why are we back here?
He made eye contact with a face that made his own twist in disgust. Felsteg looked back at Orion with a sneer, clearly just as happy as Orion was to see him.
Orion took an involuntary step toward Felsteg as voices around him murmured.
“SILENCE!” the voice of the Creator boomed.
Orion felt a great weight press itself down on him. Judging by the distress on the surrounding faces, everyone was experiencing the same sensation, and the cessation of murmurs abruptly stopped. The oppressive weight grew, forcing the gathered crowd down to their knees. Orion struggled to breathe, only able to force in short, shallow breaths.
“I am disgusted at how some of you have acted in the short time you have been here.”
An image of The Creator appeared in the space above. It took much of Orion’s will to force his head up so he could see the projection of the speaker. The Creator looked haggard and exhausted—a stark contrast to the chipper and spry body that had been presented previously. He stood hunched, his brown hair messy, and bags beneath haunted eyes.
“Not even a month has passed since you all arrived here, and my magnum opus has almost been brought to ruin. Decades of work and life poured into this world, for it to be undermined by the very souls I sought to save…”
The Creator leaned back against something unseen, letting out a weary sigh.
“I suppose that isn’t fair, though, is it? I believed that doing the kind thing and scrubbing your memories of past injustices and brutality would be enough. I expected that giving you a clean slate would cause your humanity and kindness to shine through. I thought that there would be some infighting and struggle, sure, but this… the cruelty that some of you have shown—”
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“You… told us… to do this…” a raspy voice forced out.
Orion looked over to see Felsteg, veins bulging in his neck from the strain of projecting his defiance.
“You tell us to reach for the peak, to gain power, then you call us cruel?” Felsteg forced his head down and spat on the ground. “Humanity is weakness, and kindness is for fools.”
“ENOUGH!” the Creator screamed, countenance full of righteous indignation.
Orion thought he could see the pressure being exerted as it doubled down upon them. No one made a sound—except for Felsteg, whose protests cut off with a pained grunt.
“Your actions and the actions of those like you are the exact reason we are even having this talk, Felsteg.” He spat the name, disgust and anger clear on his face. “There is only so much I can do to interfere with this world and the events I have set into motion. If a party had not just killed the world boss of the western forest, this world and every life on it would soon be snuffed out. Do you understand? DEAD. AND. GONE.”
The pressure increased with each booming word spat, and Orion fought to keep upright and breathing.
“Orion and the rest of the Malignant Miscreants—the same party that you and yours attempted to undermine and kill at every possible moment—are the sole reason you yet stand a chance. If not for them, you would be destined to become a lost soul, floating in the void—it would simply be a matter of time before the monsters of the universe consumed you.”
The Creator took a deep breath, attempting to control his emotions.
“If you only knew your past, Felsteg, I don’t believe you would act the way you do. Blocking your memories was intended as a mercy, something necessary for you to move past your traumas, but I see now that the other ascended were at least partially correct. Knowledge can bring despair, but perhaps a little despair is just what is needed for your humanity to return. Very well.”
The creator snapped his fingers, and Felsteg and the rest of his party disappeared. He then looked down at the rest of the humans beneath him, fury dissipating as he cast a kind glance at some of the crowd.
“Some of you are undeserving of this, and for that, I apologize. You would do better for the memories to be returned to you slowly—as was initially intended…” The Creator ran his hands through his messy hair and looked up, the projection seeming to meet all of their eyes. “However, as I’m sure you are aware, they have been leaking out of their containers. Power has had to be diverted to more… crucial infrastructure. If these proving grounds are to be salvaged, desperate action is needed—there is no other way.”
The Creator snapped his fingers, and darkness swelled in Orion’s vision once more.
“Good luck…”