***The Crystal City***

***Angrod***

I scratch my chin in contemplation as I study the old fresco in the Crystal City’s inner sanctum, a place that is rarely visited by outsiders even nowadays – and wasn’t accessible to the public until we took the Crystal City as our own.

The Council had a vested interest in keeping this particular piece of art well hidden since it is quite obvious proof that they didn't create the Crystal City.

Admittedly, seeing this fresco gives a new perspective on some things I have wondered about – given how unhelpful Warden has been regarding the past. The AI is strangely silent about anything that could “influence the current iteration of creation.”

It also raises many questions.

Whether Warden's tendency to call the multiverse 'creation' is a simple translation error, or whether there is some deeper meaning to the phrase. Did the Ascended have a different way of seeing things and it somehow ended up being hard-coded into Warden's crystal core?

Maybe the crystal AI is unable to see things any differently from its creators. A mind that has to withstand the aeons would need a certain stubbornness to persist against the boredom of time. What would it be like to watch the same drama play out again and again with only minor changes?

My eyes search the ceiling as I try to ignore the three-dimensional effect of the fresco. The picture tends to draw the observer in, distracting from the details.

The mysterious scene shows an army of mythical creatures facing the onlooker while seemingly defending a multitude of worlds in the background. Just that these worlds aren't depicted as planets, but landscapes... which are likely dimensions, or entire planes of existence?

What the army has to face isn’t just the observer, but an emptiness that is closing in on them from all sides. For good or for ill, their enemy isn't clearly shown and remains unclear at the picture's corners, always escaping the onlooker's sight.

The creator of this image was an evil mastermind because the spectator's interest is naturally drawn to what isn't there. Yet, the three-dimensional effect of the picture is playing the observer in a way that causes the unseen attackers to shift out of focus as soon as he tries to take a look.

I snort. It's like someone tried to create a real-world application of the observer-effect.

The observer can only see a hint of an encroaching darkness if he is standing directly at the centre of the sanctum and looking at the defending army. From any other point of view, the fresco which was somehow embedded into the crystal ceiling is just a mundane piece of strange art.

The way the scene is depicted makes the battle look less like an act of defence and more akin to a last stand. But a last stand against what? The Calamity?

Foremost and given more details than the other figures is a towering titan clad in shadow with a magical formation around him. At his side is a succubus-like woman who is striking out in what is clearly a martial arts stance.

I frown and reach up, summoning the shadows to wrap around my arm which makes it look eerily similar to the man's shadowy-form. As of yet, this new ability of mine escapes any attempt at a scientific explanation. I tried to compare it to Tanja's shadow magic, but while my childhood friend's speciality is an understandable spacial skill which only allows her to translocate through space, mine is more primal, somehow taking complete control of space to the point of allowing me to create a small pocket dimension which I can use as a personal storage space.

The people who saw it called it 'shadow', but the skill is so much more – and certainly has nothing to do with the absence of light.

I only discovered this aspect of my ability after accidentally dumping my familiar into this pocket dimension. Ghost is still a little grumpy about that – staying far away from me when I play with my ability.

There are also none of the magical formations which are necessary for any normal spell – which makes this ability of mine an inherent skill. Something like Nicosar's regeneration ability.

I cross my arms behind my back and return my attention to the fresco, hoping for some kind of insight. If Warden's hints about his creator's curse are true, then the man didn't see any necessity to leave behind some useful clues for his consecutive incarnations.

Did he fear to create a true time-loop if he left too much information in the Crystal City? Or was he so sure of his spell that he didn't deem it necessary?

That is, if Warden's claim that the Crystal City is a constant of the multiverse holds true.

The very idea defies my common knowledge of physics. Why would there be something that's recreated the exact same way throughout every iteration of the multiverse if there is no guiding force? There must be something that transitions over from one iteration to the other.

My attention wanders to one of the other detailed characters, a woman with two sets of wings, one of light and of darkness. She is riding some shape-shifting beast, half man, half creature of myth.

My introspection is interrupted when Nix approaches me, looking up at the fresco. “I doubt that there is anything you can learn from that.”

I shrug. “Just looking for clues. If I manage to identify more characters in the picture, we may be able to awaken their transcended abilities as well.”

“Transcended?” Nix raises an eyebrow.

I sigh. “Just a little moniker I came up with. There are the mortals; the immortals, who gained access to their past memories; the ascended gods, who can see and use the power of the pathways...” I wave up at the fresco and summon a little bit of my shadow. “And there are the transcended ones, who apparently have a deeper connection to 'existence', as Warden would put it. I am unable to quantify this significant detail at this point.”

“You are implying that there is something more than just ascendancy to godhood?” Nix purses her lips, thinking. “What if those people in the picture are just as fucked up as the Chimerans, and your new skill is just another aspect of your divinity. Or, what if they simply come from all those different dimensions in the background?”

I raise my eyebrows. “I assume that if that is the case, wouldn't we see armies of different types of people?”

She rolls her eyes, showing me that she is not a fan of spinning theories in this manner. “Why don't we go to the meeting with the other Alliance members. I originally came here to get you, not to theorize about what an ancient artist might have thought of when he created the fresco. Maybe the things you are trying to make sense of are just 'artistic freedom'.”

I deflate. “I know, but anything is better than listening to these idiots cry about yet another Sphere activating. It isn't like we can do anything about it – aside from cleaning up the aftermath.”

I continue to complain as we walk to the meeting room where the representatives of the Alliance are waiting. It isn't like these annual meetings can be avoided.

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Three hours later, I am left wondering why I didn't try to talk Celes into representing the Chimerans. Given her split personality, she might have freaked out and murdered everyone in the room.

“This is not enough, Angrod! We need more forces!” Gwalonna complains.

Her insistence for my people to solve every little problem irritates me. It's true that the Chimerans are the most powerful force at the moment, but even we can only do so much.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask and gesture wildly at the numbers. “Every Chimeran who can fight is fighting. I won't send our civilians out there.” I stop myself and try to remain calm as I answer Gwalonna. “It may seem cruel, but the mortals who get converted into fiends aren't much of a threat. If we start using armies of inexperienced gods to fight these random outbreaks we might do more harm than good. The soul of a converted god is indefinitely more powerful than a few million converted mortals.”

“But it is true that more spheres than ever before activated in the recent year,” Carne points out.

I wave my hand. “Statistics! These things will keep occurring. Sometimes there are more, sometimes less. We can't pay so much attention to a single outlier to the statistics, especially not if the multiverse at large is at risk. The most important thing is that our containment measures around the black hole stay in place. I am not willing to reroute a single fortress to another task.”

Settled planets are being devoured or destroyed out there every day. Be the reason the Calamity or some cosmic event. We just don't have enough fighting power to cover every planet.

Gwalonna thinks that I can order my whole planet of gods to walk out there and start smiting the fiends just like the other societies did. To her, it looks like we are withholding our forces.

But most of our people are civilians. Even if they regained their memories, their current incarnations don't have the fighting spirit to use their powers correctly. It is not as easy as to just remember a previous life and become a perfect warrior from one moment to the next. Your body has to be trained and your reflexes honed. That is ninety-nine percent of what decides a fight.

“You are welcome to go to Chimera and take a look at the people who are left there. I already asked everyone who has the confidence to take on a fiend for help. The people who are left on Chimera would be victims in front of those things,” I try to explain.

“Gwalonna, you forget their history. You can't expect the same rate of militarisation from the Chimerans as of other godly societies. Most of our people have lived as gods for thousands of years. The Chimerans regained their powers only a few decades ago. It could take another few centuries until they are on the same level as us. And aren't they doing more than enough with their crystal ships?” Mawu makes a calming gesture to reign in his fellow representative.

“That's right. I went for a walk through one of their cities when I was on a visit there. Most of those people are as harmless as mortals. If you put them in front of a fiend, they would freeze up or run away. They are chickens. Sorry to put it like that, Angrod.” Unexpectedly, Carne speaks up for my sake, even if his words aren't exactly flattering.

“No offence taken. It's the truth,” I admit. “Our power comes mainly from our crystal technology and our elite-troops, not our civilian population. Our ships are all out there and the shipyards are running hot. We even gave the ships which we didn't have the manpower to crew to the Arcane Community. They had the most people who would be able to use them without much training.”

Chiffre scratches his cheek with his mechanical arm. “That's true. They are very interesting pieces of technology. And they are all deployed.”

“I am sorry. I just want to stop this senseless destruction.” Gwalonna leans back in her chair and says nothing more, looking tired. It seems like she just needed something to vent her anger. But we are all feeling powerless facing the current situation.

She isn't entirely wrong. The rate at which the dormant Spheres are activating increased this year, almost overwhelming our attempts to control the Calamity.

Depending on the fighting power we need to save a single world, we more often than not had to give up quite a few others entirely... ranging in the hundreds to thousands. If our people don't get to a world shortly after a Sphere's activation, the only remaining choice is to blast the entire thing to pieces.

A guard appears in the room, interrupting the meeting. “I am sorry to interrupt, but there is something that wishes to talk to all of you. It looks like one of those fiends, but it seems to be sentient. It says that it has a message for you.”

“Where is it?” Zanders jumps out of his chair.

“On the plaza in front of the central tower. It just appeared there.” The guard wets his lips, almost not daring to mouth his theory as his expression turns worried. “Apparently, it can use pathways.”

Even the lowest of a soldier in our society has an education above any mortal king. The man came to his own conclusions about the implications of a fiend with the ability to go anywhere within the multiverse.

“If all of those things can use pathways now, we are in deep shit!” Miruliru disappears. She didn't wait for the rest of us.

One after the other we follow Miruliru.

I teleport directly to the designated destination and find the plaza empty.

Earlier, it was buzzing with life and now there isn't a single soul to see.

Except for a lonely fiend and a group of guards around it. The fiend holds a crystal sword – probably looted from a fallen warrior. The creature is a little bigger and looks more humanoid than the normal ones, although its face is still a creepy mien of black sludge.

As our group walks closer, the demon starts speaking. “Wonderful! Everyone is here, so we can tell you how this will work.”

“Why should we listen to a creature like you!” Carne shouts out a very undiplomatic question, but the demon isn't irritated.

“It's easy. To save your puny existence! If you don't comply, we will continue to eat and corrupt the mortals until there aren't much of them left. Afterwards, we will come for you!” It points at us.

“So what are your terms? And who is 'we'?” Gwalonna asks, angered by the creature's boldness.

“We are the Calamity. If you fulfil our demands, we will retreat with our forces back into the black hole. All we want is for you so give us the monthly sacrifice of a god. Mortals aren't as filling as the Ascended. And as a bonus, we want him!” The thing points at me.

“He is a little confused. There is no way that I am going to sacrifice any of my people,” Carne whispers to us.

“Why?” I ask while I ready myself to summon my staff. “What do you get from absorbing souls – aside from getting more deranged with everyone you take. You must be aware of what it does to you. And why would you want me?”

“Because you stood in our way for long enough! Bright One! Your soul always interferes with us, throughout all of your reincarnations! You are a menace! First, you banished us into the black hole where we had to starve! And then you interfered with our food source when you stopped the Council! This will end!” The creepy thing smiles at me, forming an empty hole in its tar-like face.

“So you are starving inside that black hole? Thanks for the confirmation! I guess once we manage to wipe out your agents and fiends, it's your end.” It is my time to smile at the creepy thing.

“You hope for too much. Our true body may not be able to leave the black hole, but our fiends will be more than enough. We have anticipated that you won't throw your life away for others! You always preferred to sacrifice someone else in order to escape us. But this time, we have captured something precious to you!” The thing throws the crystal sword to my feet.

It's a thin blade which is a little longer than the standard version and covered with runes. I should have recognized it sooner, but my whole attention was on the creature.

The blade. I made it for Aengus.

“We caught the one you call 'son' in your current reincarnation. His fiancee is also in our hands. Funny, that she is one of our former agents. Maybe she will like it once we return her to the fold. Being one of us isn't painful, you know. It's peace, being part of something greater. If you sacrifice yourself, you can have that too...”

Anger taking away my reason as I let go of my power, allowing the shadow to spill forth as my perspective changes, my body growing as the other representatives are pushed aside by my aura and my true form.

The fiend slowly changes the angle of its head, looking up to me. “That is... new...”

I growl and reach out, my hand enclosing the hellish creature and lifting it up before it can react.

“I will come for you. Just wait there in your safe, little, black hole. I will tear you apart and find the insane personalities which are responsible for your actions. Then I will create a new plane for all of you! And there, the word HELL will take on a wholly new dimension!” I rasp, my new form's tongue crackling like burning coals with every word.

Then I squeeze, the creature's tar-like substance spilling forth from between my fingers as it lets out a shriek that is cut short.

“You just killed the envoy!” Carne complains from the sidelines with a slightly affected voice as he watches the fiend's fluids dripping onto the floor.

I turn my gaze on him while trying unsuccessfully to clean my clawed hand on the plaza's ground, only succeeding in spreading out the mess I made. Like some child experimenting with finger-paint.

“Aaah...” Carne clears his throat. “He deserved it, no arguments there, we would have offed the thing anyways.”

The other representatives nod quickly.

I don't answer, knowing that my voice is a little creepy in this form. Instead, I concentrate on pulling the shadows back into myself, standing back among them in my Chimeran form only moments later.

If this thing said the truth, I might be able to get Aengus back. Wasn't he supposed to visit Sharid's homeworld? They should have been able to run if there was an attack there.

No matter, since I wisely placed a spy with them.

If I act quickly, I may be able to find them in time.