“Six who guide, and six who make. And one who watches and never forsakes.”

* An old Gontan rhyme

The world changed, six continents becoming one, then the edges splintering into little pieces of land, tides and currents, entire oceans shifting in place, civilizations changing, effects rippling out across the entirety of the world. Despite it all, twin beacons, one by a lake and one nestled in foothills, still endured.

A arrested a in Cardona, a tended to his people and broke bread with allies old and new, a and slew dwindling Demons, and on and on. A thousand thousand stories, changing, growing, moving.

In the palace in the city of Cardona, a man heard unwelcome words.

🠊 [Demon King].

Systemwide reformatting in progress…

Configuring…

[Demon King] Class lost

Class reverted

New protocols running…

[Fallen Despot] Class gained!

[Fallen Despot] Level 10!

Attributes allotted:

ENDURANCE set to 3

INTELLECT set to 2

PRESENCE set to 4

REACTION set to 2

STRENGTH set to 4

[Fallen Despot]

CLASS

Requirements: Level 10, formerly have a Ruler-type Class, Presence 3+, ruled unjustly

Type: Ruler

Description: You were petty when atop whatever throne you held, and you’re even more petty now that you’ve been toppled. You’re a pitiable, wretched thing, though perhaps a spark of redemption lies in you.

Starting Talents:

* [Aura of Failure]: You radiate intense feelings of tepid wrath, desolation, neglect, poor fortune, and a dearth of success or happiness. You cannot seem to succeed at anything in life, and those around you are subtly pushed away. You’re mostly ignored and left to wallow.

* [Jaded Echo of Strength]: For ten seconds each year, you can regain the fullness of the strength you had in your previous life, though only your attributes are changed, not your levels or Talents.

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The once-mighty fell to his knees as a woman with a blade whose edge burned with brilliant white fire approached at a steady pace, a young man in white robes walking beside her.

“Curious, Stillbottums, that despite all of your plans, all of your dreams, all of your bloodshed, you end up here, a wretch.” Voice even, Bim, traces of Esun’s nature still lingering in his words, spoke to the man before him, almost sadly. “Would that I could, I would see you given a chance to remake yourself in a new era. But others have their rights to their pound of flesh.”

Prinner Wilholm, armor stained red permanently, approached, face blazing with rage. “You fucking bastard. You bent me until I broke, then threw me into the fire as soon as your plans were coming to fruition. I might be a monster, but at least I don’t go out and drum up more of me, sculpt a whole nation around myself. You fucking murderous narcissist.”

“You really are a waste, Stillbottums. So much potential, so much power, so much knowledge and experience, and you spent it all on fruitless, sadistic power-grabs. Begone.” Without much more fanfare, Stina Walsh drew her blade, as did Wilholm, and as a pair they each struck at a weeping Stillbottums, and the lay dead.

“The touch of Esun on my soul soon fades, but then again every soul is a little part of his majesty. Regardless, my ability to help you in momentous ways lessens rapidly. What do each of you wish?”

He received two answers, and was gone. From the Warden, a stumbling answer came, from a the answer was short and poignant, from the Administrator and former card counter came a lengthy one, and from the Disciple the answer was plain. From the Huntress, the answer was surprising.

One year later, Sharron and Marvin, each not looking a day over thirty-something, threw a wonderful party in celebration of the anniversary of everyone saving the world. Greg managed to attend after tumbling out of a Tear, covered in burns and a sack of gold, jewels, and a pair of sparkling boots in his arms, along with a sharp-eyed woman with a bow of poisoned arrows and some nasty burns of her own.

The Wandering Knight attended awkwardly, having given up the axe for the a long staff and blade, and blood-soaked armor for rough and sturdy leathers. Prinner Wilholm, after so long lost, had found a glorious purpose of his own.

The Lawgiver was very strict about the rules, and her entourage was, if possible, worse. Still, she brought safety and sanctity with each step she took.

Lastly, a weathered Administrator and his mother arrived, one a blade for humanity’s good, her fighting days (mostly) set aside, the other a voice for humanity’s unluckiest, his vocal cords worn but steady and sonorous.

All of them, and many others, gathered under the roof of the main feast hall in Drumlin, where it all really began, and toasted a new era.

As the feasting and chattering got into full swing, a quiet man in blue robes took aside a youth in plain clothes whose eyes shone gold, and they spoke in an adjoining room.

“Bim. I just wanted to ask, now that I’m back, what exactly happened with the other three Archons? The ones who hadn’t already been banished?” Curiosity shone through, though there were new gray hairs on the [Scholar]’s head, and new lines around his piercing eyes.

“To be honest, I kind of blacked out there for a bit in the first minute or two. I think Esun-- that is, humanity’s collective spirit given sentience-- just annihilated them by hurling them into the Abyss, but I’m not sure.”

“How are you certain they won’t come back to menace this world once again?”

Bim smiled. “Simple. Because in the Abyss, a bunch of the souls, those minority that I couldn’t save and restore, are sitting there, waiting, tucked away in what scraps of cohesion and sanity can be found in the depths of that darkness, and they’re all very, very pissed off at those three. There’s an outside chance that some of them will level enough to make the pilgrimage back to reality.”

“Is that even possible?”

Bim sighed contentedly. “I’ve been busy healing, restoring shattered cities, and returning the chunks of reality I couldn’t grab in one go from the Abyss. How about when things settle more in a few years or so, I get the old team together and we meet them halfway?”

“I’m in.” Zara said, sidling over.

“Do you even have to ask?” Greg shot over, listening with one ear.

Helena just nodded.

“What do you think, son? One last road trip, once it’s all settled?” Stina asked slyly.

Collin just laughed. “I don’t see why not.”

“Then it’s settled. Let’s venture out into the dark, beyond the fringe.”