Faelmac Westrisser squatted over the grand array he had created, watching time twist and layer itself into a tight spiral. The dagger that sat in the middle of the array rattled back and forth, almost like it knew its fate and attempted to avoid being any more afflicted with the poisonous embrace of time.

“Soon,” Westrisser whispered. His wings fluttered softly. Even from afar, he could feel the horrifying violence of the clash between Aether and Nether forces to the South. They needed this weapon.

But genius could not be hurried. And no matter how much excitement bubbled in the feathered serpent’s chest, for finally having proof his theories were correct, he could not get ahead of himself. Before results came the toil.

“Soon,” He said again, his eyes lifting from the dagger and going to the portal into the Dungeon. At this moment, he wondered how long his daughter had experienced. Longer than any other had attempted while maintaining their sanity.

He had never felt more proud of his daughter.

*****

Randidly’s feet touched down on the ground to the North of Homewell, where Neveah had erected her quaint little cottage. He glanced around. Just looking, the area still seemed peaceful. Her small garden hadn’t been disturbed. Towels and dresses had been left hanging on the clotheslines, fluttering in the disturbed air. One window was still propped open.

Any minute, it seemed like she would return and the idyllic lifestyle here would resume.

The only hints of the apocalypse on the horizon was the soft rumbles Randidly could feel through the soles of his feet and the way battle dyed the sky orange-red, with those violent hues dripping and tainting the ambiance.

He sucked in a deep breath. He could feel his new Deity’s Ruthless Cerebral Scope beginning to show some of its benefits, as a part of his attention split off from the current task and began gathering up threads of kinetic force, pointlessly decaying in the atmosphere. Yggdrasil took that energy and processed it, feeding it into the parched expanse of Randidly’s body. And it was a testament to the rich energy the Patron of the Deep released that the energy felt cheap and oily as it seeped into him.

Every bit counts right now, Randidly hummed to himself as he walked around the back of the cabin.

Congratulations! Your Skill Aureate Arteries of Yggdrasil (T) has grown 959!

…

Congratulations! Your Skill Aureate Arteries of Yggdrasil (T) has grown 970!

Congratulations! Your Skill Aureate Arteries of Yggdrasil (T) has grown 971!

Behind Neveah’s quaint little setup, with its windows humming with the distant collisions, the Nether Arbiter sat in a lotus position and stared into the middle distance. Randidly slowed as he walked up, not wanting to disturb her. The sky above popped and fizzled, their location just far enough away from the danger to feel like all the hints of doom were just ash, drifting down from a dazzling fireworks show.

Yet above them the maelstrom of significance spun. Not even the most numbed Nether Warrior could miss how violent an upheaval approached this world.

“Is the time up?” Lowanna asked without opening her eyes. Her hands pulsed and shifted, moving between several finger seals. The rest of her body was entirely still, without even her lungs inflating. Randidly wondered if there was meaning to the precise placement of her joints and digits, or whether it was just a calming exercise.

“Not yet,” Randidly said.

The Nether Arbiter twitched, the answer taking her by surprise. Her eyes opened and she gave him a sharp look. Her lips thinned as she considered calling him out on a rather blase statement, considering the circumstances. In the distance, the light dimmed as a surging current of Nether that could have only originated from Deganawidah swept everything else away.

“So this is a social visit?” Lowanna’s tone remained sharp.

Randidly licked his lips, considering how to answer. He needed a bit more time to pull together the new plan for the second attempt, but he also wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have another purpose. A nudge he wanted to give to her, without suggesting it outright. And Lowanna would be able to tell if he lied about his current intentions. Deep down, Randidly knew what he had asked of her was impossible, both because picking out a unifying principle was incredibly difficult, and because doing so would make it true in a way that could be dangerous to the Nether people.

What he was about to suggest was even more ludicrous. Which was why he couldn’t be the one to say it.

She didn’t vocalize it as such, but this was a test. And Randidly believed he would need a unifying truth for the third attempt especially when he repaired the damage Deganawidah had inflicted on his Class.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“I thought I could use a bit of a break, after how the day started,” Randidly said, surprised to find the truth in the words in the way his body ached in response. He cracked his knuckles and sat down next to Lowanna. “In the end… I don’t know, can you sense it? The end of this iteration? I don’t know if this memory will survive what I’m going to do.”

Some of the sharpness left Lowanna’s face, but a dangerously fragile quality replaced it. “So?”

“If we want to talk about bonds, about a return to the Nether balance we spoke about previously, it needs to be now.” Randidly leaned forward.

Her fingers continued to shift rapidly between arrangements, her hands almost defying the black wicker restraints that kept the dangerous power she wielded under wraps. “Don’t you think it is naive to talk of growth and building when we race toward the precipice?”

“Can we afford not to?” He replied.

Lowanna stared at him with wide eyes. Looking at her now, Randidly realized he had underestimated the strain she was under. Every ripple of Nether, every destructive explosion that occurred in the churning storm of significance above them, all of it traveled through her. Considering her ties to every Nether being in existence, aside from himself, she probably felt it to an even greater degree. Her delicate control remained in place, but Randidly had weakened her grip by forcing her into their Nether duels. And now, the constant impacts from the war had begun to numb her.

As her control faded, her emotions began to run high. Worries about releasing her power and killing her people multiplied. The constant stimulation pushed her nerves to the limit. Even the goal that she had approached Randidly to accomplish now seemed bruised and thrumming, her emotions making it difficult to distinguish desire from disgust.

One part of Randidly groaned inwardly, unable to imagine dealing with this now; he had a mixed record of handling emotional difficulties, even at his best. And it would delay his proceeding to the battlefield, which meant he needed to rely on Cerulean surviving under the assault of Deganawidah for a few more minutes.

Neveah would be infinitely more suited to this task, but he also needed humanity to be created, even in the memory. He suspected the echoing implications would reach into the Alpha Cosmos, especially considering his heavy hand in the process. Due to the… alterations he had made, humans should have an easier time evolving Stats going forward. That was a benefit worth a little extra effort now.

Besides, his new theory for the Stillborn Phoenix and his ability to help others transform themselves gave him a little bit of extra leeway. With the clouds of his own worries cleared, he could show some empathy for Lowanna.

“Although they might be abstract,” Randidly began slowly. “And often, they end up being a constant strain on our attention and energy… we can’t afford to let go of our core motivations. I know better than anyone else how easy it is to lose yourself in the motions and sensations of action. But action without structure becomes chaos.”

“Life is chaos,” she countered. “Sure, Nether bonds and Aether shape provide some amount of structure, but that is on a small scale. Those tiny little arrangements tumble through the universe without affixing themselves to anything lasting.”

“I believe life is perspective,” Randidly rubbed his chin. To his surprise, he found himself drawing some sort of mental sustenance from the conversation. His psyche bloomed, his full mental capabilities coming back into focus. So he allowed his thoughts to unspool without hurrying them. “As much as I rue the day that the Nexus arrived on my world— millions of people died in the first hour, probably trillions over the next month, I can’t help but… appreciate it. I was lost in my life. But underpinning all the violence and exploitation of the System is a simple truth: belief can alter the world. Once you begin to see the changes and shifts as following a grand pattern, it is.”

“You cannot expect me to believe that once you chose to follow this so-called ‘pattern’, you were never again surprised.”

Randidly leaned back. “Sometimes life catches me by surprise. But just because I don’t totally understand the pattern doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

“You’ll spend your entire life chasing an impossible answer if you choose this Path,” Lowanna whispered with narrowed eyes. "An unknowable answer."

Randidly shrugged. “Maybe. That’s why people push for the PInnacle, yea? And the Nether equivalent. Or at least I assume so; for that brief moment, you force the pattern you’ve always chased into existence. And remnants of that achievement linger, even when you cease to be.”

For a brief moment, Randidly thought her tension would prevent Lowanna from seeing the method he had been trying to nudge her toward, from the moment he had asked her about the unifying principle of Nether. She opened her mouth, showing a vicious antagonism like she wanted to bite his answer in half, but then she paused. Her eyes widened.

She gave him a very long look, as though finally able to see the whole of him. She measured him carefully. “...you are a dangerous person, Nether King Hungry Eye. Do you— no, you probably don’t even know our history. The stigma on what you imagine is very clear. It is forbidden.”

“And now, any bond but Phaea is forbidden. There are always reasons, Lowanna. Often good ones. And I know that taboo might not be the same as this one. But I just wanted you to start seeing what I’m seeing. If not a pattern on a grand scale, one we are desperately clinging to in the immediate vicinity.” Randidly stood and brushed off his legs. “But I believe we were speaking about life. No matter how much we wish for it to pause and give us time to find the proper answers, it does not.”

“It will leave us behind,” Lowanna nodded in begrudging agreement. She gave him another glance quite like the first, measuring him, trying to ascertain his goals. “...the longer I know you, the more I wonder if it would be for the best if one such as you were left behind. Your ideas are dangerous. Your… perspective is transformative.”

Randidly was surprised by the thrill of pleasure that ran through his Fateset. His three Moiraes cackled with glee. His certainty about his second impossible attempt sharpened into focus. He struggled and couldn’t prevent a smile from breaking out. “So I’ve been told. But the trick is I could never have done most of this alone. It’s the people that choose to believe me, to see the world how I see it, that makes the difference.”

“Exactly,” Lowanna grunted. “You are seductive in front of a crowd. Not because you are trying to be convincing, but because you believe. You are right about the System, I’ll admit. I just think… well. The fact you have such pure belief is dangerous. But good luck, Nether Eye. I… need to think for a bit.”

Randidly smiled and turned away. Already, his mind raced ahead to the true thrust of the second impossible attempt. He was going to do what Elhume could not. He was going to make the memory… real.