Knowing Seth's former colleagues and friends had just snuffed out billions of lives in an instant made all sympathy for his fellows melt away. Sorrow poured forth from his eyes as he watched the world that had been his home for three millennia succumb to such destruction. Then sorrow gave way to rage, and a single idea fought all the others, until it rose to the front of his mind.

If I can't save Ymir, I can at least make them pay for what they've done!

Seth fell into his commander's chair and placed both hands upon the control slate before him. The starship's computer recognized his mind and attuned to his will. All at once, he saw through the vessel's countless lenses, peering out into space.

The other starships were hard at work, scorching Ymir. Though the surface already burned, they surely sought to destroy even those who'd hidden themselves underground.

Among the others, he spied Admiral Montu's starship. It seemed fitting to him that the false god of war should die first.

Forward!

His steel vessel lurched forward, propelling itself through the void. Once the target was in range, Seth gave his command, "Fire all cannons!"

Every ion gun on his starship lit up, preparing for the shot. Admiral Montu's vessel started to move, no doubt readying to take evasive maneuvers. Before he could get far, beams of burning light launched from Seth's weaponry. Explosions rocked Montu's ship, but his shields absorbed most of the impact.

Every other starship began to turn.

Evasive maneuvers!

Seth's space-faring vessel wove side to side as the other false gods returned fire. Ions blasted past him in streams and pillars, flying off to be lost in the void.

Shoot Montu's vessel again!

Seth's cannons blasted at the admiral once more, but this time his starship rocketed out of the way, causing the beams to strike Ymir instead.

Nyx's ship opened up dozens of hatches on either side, allowing a flurry of robots, each the size of a horse, to take flight and speed toward Seth's ship.

Release the fighter bots!

Seth released drones of his own to engage with Nyx's fighters. Ion beams shot between them as they wove around each other, dodging and strafing out of the line of fire.

Ashtoreth's cannons caught Seth unaware. His shields absorbed most of the impact, but his vessel still shook violently.

Launch torpedoes at Ashtoreth's vessel!

Rockets propelled themselves through the void. Ashtoreth's starship sped forward, trying to evade them, but they course-corrected and gave chase. Each one exploded against her shields with such a force that pieces broke off from her vehicle's armor.

Rakos, Anu, and Kernun's vessels flanked Seth's ship on three sides. All at once, they unleashed a volley of ions, followed by tracking torpedoes. There was no way to evade it, so Seth braced himself for impact.

With a terrible crash, the starship shook violently. Several snapping sounds, followed by the noise of explosions within the vessel spoke to the damage they'd done.

"Warning," came the computer's voice over the speakers, "Critical failure is imminent. Evacuate immediately."

"No!" Seth beat his fist against the control slate. "Not yet! Just give me a little more time."

More explosions rocked the starship, giving him his answer.

"Evacuate immediately."

There was nothing for it. He touched the runes on his armband once again, escaping the vehicle just as it was about to explode.

He teleported to the first place he could think of: his inner sanctum in Takhar. In an instant, he realized his mistake, having jumped from one inferno to another. The waygate remained standing, but stone walls lay crumbled and molten all around him. Clouds covered the sky in colors of rust, arsenic, and bile. Beams of light pierced the smoky canopy, causing the flames to rise ever higher.

Across the scorched floor of the Archonic city of Takhra lay piles of ash and blackened bones, stretched out like an unending graveyard.

Pain shot through Seth's chest like a twisting knife. Every breath he took was like acid down his throat. Something inside his gut threatened a violent escape.

Seth stumbled as the world seemed to move like waves on a turbulent sea. He clutched his forehead as sweat and blood forced its way through his pores. A trembling took his hands and legs, the nerves wracked with cold.

He fell to his knees and shrieked curses into that unfeeling sky. Every foul and hateful word he knew spewed forth like a torrent. Something black and sticky crawled its way into his heart, a Hellish lust for vengeance that he was sure would consume his entire being.

And he wanted it to.

A hand clasped down on his shoulder. He whirled around, ready to attack whoever had been so foolhardy as to approach him.

His Grand Archon jumped back, her wings catching the wind currents to lift her slightly off the ground. "Master, it's me!"

"Shoftiel!" He wiped the sweat from his face on his palm. "You're alive!"

"Come!" She took her place by his side again and took his arm to drag him along. Seth stumbled along with her as she brought him to the waygate. The portal opened, allowing her to usher him into the Sanctuary of his own making.

Blue skies above, with only a few white, billowing clouds. Emerald grass stretched out in every direction, with paths of quartz leading between hills and into the verdant forests. Everything in his Sanctuary had remained untouched.

The greatest comfort came when Seth gazed out at the multitude of archons and humans standing on those hills and in the valleys. Thousands of lives saved.

"I did just as you bid me," said Shoftiel.

An archon that resembled a reptile with scales like precious jewels beat her feathered wings and landed beside the Grand Archon. One of Seth's leather-bound books rested in her claws. With a bewildered expression on her sparkling face, she asked, "Is what you wrote in here true?"

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Her sorrowful tone made the words catch in his throat. Unable to force them out, he gave a tearful nod.

Other archons started to gather closer to Seth, all wearing the expressions of lost travelers.

"I'm sorry." The words came from Seth's mouth in a croak. "I'm so sorry..."

He wanted to say more, but what could be said to a population that just lost its whole world? What could be said to those who worshiped him for so long, only to find that they'd devoted themselves to a lie?

"But you saved us," said Shoftiel.

"And doomed so many others." Seth hung his head.

Shoftiel fluttered into the air and, with a gentle touch of his chin, raised his countenance to look upon her own. She wore a broken smile. "You saved us."

Seth let out a ragged breath, his face contorting into a grimace as he could not hold back his sobs any longer. Compassionate arms wrapped around his shoulders, and the crowd gasped as Shoftiel embraced him. This was hardly the level of propriety one showed a god, but Seth was no god, just a man weighed down by his many sins. He hugged her back, holding her tightly as he wept and wailed. Filth clung to his soul, but Shoftiel's forgiveness was as hot water poured over it.

. . .

In the days that followed, Seth used his control over the Sanctuary to create houses for each of the people who'd fled to that place. Every time someone thanked him for his kindness his disgust with himself grew. He didn't pull the trigger on their world, but he'd helped his colleagues with every atrocity leading up to this one.

With all homes built and all needs provided for, Seth spent most of his time lying in the grassy fields, watching the clouds go by. There was a time when this simple act had brought him such joy. After the purge of Ymir, all it could do was lessen the agony inside him that he could not escape.

Those living in his Sanctuary went about the mourning process however they could. They cried over the lost, or fought over fault or what to do next. Seth wasn't sure why there even needed to be a "next." What was wrong with just accepting the end?

Now and then, someone would come to visit him. Usually, they came with questions about what he'd written. Every time someone asked him what he meant by this or that part, he remained silent, hoping they would understand that he was not yet ready to speak.

Seth lost track of how many days had gone by before Shoftiel approached and laid down in the grass next to him. He braced himself for more questions, and the anger that would surely follow his answers when he finally gave them.

To his surprise, she stayed quiet. This might well have been worse, because Seth filled that stillness with guesses about the accusations that awaited him.

"That cloud looks like a fat horse at full gallop."

Seth turned toward her, puzzled.

Shoftiel pointed at the sky. "Doesn't it? Look at it."

He shrugged and peered up where she was pointing. What a strange time to play this game. "I don't know. To me that looks more like a whale breaching out of the ocean."

"No, can't be that," said Shoftiel. "You're crazy."

Once again, he turned his head to face her. She wore a playful smile.

Part of him wanted to play along with her but found that he could not be as jovial as she wanted. "Is there something you need from me?"

"Well, I do have a question."

Seth braced himself.

"How is it that this place survived the purge?" asked the Grand Archon.

The query caught him off-guard. "Pardon?"

"Well, the gods... sorry, the false gods destroyed the rest of Ymir," said Shoftiel, "but you had me hide people away in here, as many as I could, because you knew they would survive in here. How is it that the rest of Ymir burned, but this Sanctuary survived?"

It was odd to him that after what he wrote and what happened that her first question to him in so many days was about logistics of magic. Strange though it was, he found it a welcome inquiry. One far easier to answer than the ones that were sure to come later.

"It's a kind of magic we call a 'pocket dimension,'" said Seth.

Shoftiel shifted her head to one side. "Pocket dimension?"

"Dr. Liita first theorized it was possible." Seth stared at the blue above him. "Basically, you use the magic of adonium to create a separate, miniature world. It takes a great deal of power to make one, but once it's made it continues to exist as long as its creator does, and the creator of the pocket dimension can make gates that lead to it."

"That's incredible!" said Shoftiel.

A smile tugged on the corner of Seth's lips. He refused to allow it to form. "And the creator of a pocket dimension has total control over the environment. Any people he invites into his world may do as they wish, he has no control over them. That's why I could instantly create houses for everyone and why the food and water never run out."

"So, you created a paradise for your followers, one that shielded them from the End of the World." Shoftiel shrugged. "And how does that not make you a god?"

"Because anyone studied enough, and equipped with enough adonium, could do what I did," said Seth. "This is nothing special. I could teach you how to make something like this, and yours might well be better than mine."

Shoftiel sat up and gazed around. "I don't know what could be better than this."

"That just takes a little imagination," said Seth. "These hills, fields, and forests are all based on a place from my childhood on a world called Geryon."

"I thought your book said you were from a place called 'Urth,'" said Shoftiel.

"No, my ancestors were from Urth," said Seth. "I was born on Geryon, which is a lot like Urth, but it's far far away from there." The moment the words left his mouth, he realized she'd just tricked him into talking about his book. His heart sank.

"You know you can't avoid their questions forever, right?" asked Shoftiel.

Seth sighed. "I know."

"Then I'm going to ask the one that's become most important to those who prayed to you for so long." She scooted closer to him. "If you are not a god, does that mean justice isn't real?"

It was something he'd asked himself again and again over the years, never coming to a true answer. While justice was certainly an ideal he'd striven for his whole life, even as a judge he saw so little of it. Whenever he punished someone who'd transgressed the law, the victims' pain remained. Whenever he let an innocent person go free, he was left to wonder if he'd made a mistake in his judgment.

Then there was the Apocalypse that had just fallen upon all Ymir. His colleagues, the remaining false gods, were still out there, in space, safe from all harm. He doubted they held even a hint of remorse, either for what they did to Ymir or for what they surely believed they did to him.

Seth sat up and looked away from her. "No. Justice is a lie. One that even I fell for."

She caught her breath at his answer, eyes widening.

He rose to his feet. "I wish I had a better answer than that, but I don't. Now, please excuse me. I'm going into the forest for a while to think things over."

"Haven't you spent enough time alone?" asked Shoftiel.

"Enough time alone, but not enough time giving thought to the future." Seth took two steps away from her, stopped, and dared to meet her gaze. "Everyone's asking what to do next. I just need a moment to figure that out."

"Master..."

Seth continued his trek away from the Grand Archon. "Don't call me 'master' anymore. I'm no one's master."

"Seth!" she cried.

He ignored her calls and slumped off into the nearby woods. In hopes that she would not follow him, he willed the trees to grow thicker, and for thorny bushes to grow along the edges of the grove.

Ever deeper into the shadows of the trees he walked. Everything seemed so hopeless. Even leaving Ymir wasn't an option for him, for his starship had been destroyed, and Empyrean would surely hunt him down and arrest him as a traitor. Then, just before his trial, he'd mysteriously "take his own life." He'd heard rumors of the corporation doing such things before, but had long chosen to believe they weren't true.

Along the paths, he came to a clearing, where stood a throne made of glowing crystals in all manner of colors. A fountain encircled it, with a waterfall coming down from the chair's back.

That's strange. I didn't create this.

Seth reached out his hand and tried to will the throne and fountain away, but it remained.

Have I lost control over the pocket dimension?

To test this hypothesis, he turned toward the surrounding trees and willed their leaves to change from green to blue. When they did exactly as he wished, he found himself all the more vexed by the crystal throne before him.

"That's not yours," said a strong feminine voice from nearby.

Seth jumped and stepped aside as the stranger approached. She was a woman with dark skin and freckles that shone like stars. The diamond crown upon her brow glowed, its light reflected off her long, silver hair. Her gown appeared to be made of white light, and she walked with perfect grace to the throne. There she sat, watching Seth with piercing gray eyes.

All around, the trees turned into alabaster pillars, and the green grass turned to an emerald floor. Seth tried to will it back, but it seemed he'd lost control over the Sanctuary.

"Dear Seth," said the woman upon the bejeweled throne, "we have much to discuss. You have work to do."