Being a god was weird.
Ayo wasn't sure how else to describe the sensation. Colours were sharper, crisper, and the world seemed to hold an impossible vibrancy. Sounds, once distinct, now overlapped in a symphony of nature – the rustling of leaves, the distant murmur of a stream, the frantic chittering of insects below. It was almost overwhelming, a constant influx of information that strained even her newfound awareness.
A sliver of understanding, a whisper from something her senses told her was the [Moon/Night Mother/Father's Eye], brushed against her consciousness. She was tethered to it, a tiny thread of pure power binding her to that vast, terrible existence. It was just like the Red Queen had said – she'd bonded to a fragment, not the whole. Still though compared to the mortals below, she and the boys were like lighthouses in a storm. Their connection was amplified, blazing a trail that separated them from the realm of mere Legends.
This newfound godhood, however, couldn't dim the urgency of the situation. Even as the realisation settled, her physical form was already in motion, instinctively joining Wole and Mairo as they decimated the encroaching horde. Power coursed through her veins, eager to serve, as they unleashed a barrage of attacks that scythed through the ranks of the monsters.
A glance back revealed the Administrator's core, safe and pulsating with a soft, steady hum. The essence spikes, once erratic, had stabilised. Satisfied with that for the moment, Ayo frowned down at the gathered cultivators in thought. They hovered high above the battlefield, a sight that was drawing a mixture of awe and trepidation. Even Narai and Elder Yasmin, faces etched with the grime of war, stared upwards with a mix of disbelief and something akin to worship.
It made Ayo really uncomfortable.
"Did you..." Elder Yasmin's voice, usually so strong, wavered. "Were you successful?"
Ayo gave a simple nod but before she could form a proper reply, a surge of energy engulfed them. For what had to be the fiftieth time that day, the world dissolved into a swirling vortex of light and sensation. When her vision cleared, Ayo found herself and the boys no longer hovering above the battlefield, but standing in a familiar stark white chamber.
But there was no Fragment waiting to greet them.
The Administrator, now whole and resplendent, stood before them. Her starry gaze was sharp, ablaze with liquid power and it seemed to Ayo that a multitude of numbers and code marched ceaselessly across their surface.
The Administrator regarded them, her form shimmering with an inner radiance. "Thank you," she said finally, her voice like soft, rumbling thunder. "Thank you so very much. Not just for restoring me, but also for accepting our plan. You have no idea how long I've been alone, the only deity tethered to this realm."
Before Ayo could respond, the Administrator stepped forward and enveloped the three of them in a warm embrace. Ayo stiffened, bewildered by the unexpected display of affection, but there was something undeniably comforting about the goddess's touch, like returning to the embrace of a long-lost mother.
As the Administrator pulled back, a soft smile played upon her features. "It is good to have company."
Ayo smiled back, relief blossoming in her chest. It was over, finally. With the Administrator's power at their command, surely they would find a way to overcome the Calamities' threat.
Yet, even as the first tendrils of optimism began to take root, the goddess’ expression sobered, a grave weight settling upon her ethereal features.
"I know why you worked so hard to restore me. And I do wish I could help," she said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "But the truth is, even I cannot defeat the Calamities. Not without dire consequence."
Ayo's breath caught in her throat, her newfound godhood doing little to temper the icy tendrils of dread that lanced through her heart. "What do you mean? You're the Administrator, the pinnacle of power in this realm!"
The Administrator shook her head, a flicker of sadness passing through her form. "My existence is... unique. Unlike the deities of your world, for instance, I am not a being of pure essence. You saw it yourselves. I have a physical core. And I am bound to the System, woven into the very fabric of Vestige itself. Furthermore, my connection to the Primordial Network, the higher intelligence that all of the Apotheon’s deities share is… tenuous at best. As fresh as you are, the three of you have stronger ties to it than I ever will. So you will know that what I'm saying is true. If we manage to slay just one, the backlash alone will obliterate the entire planet."
Ayo's brow furrowed at the deluge of information. A network of deities? This was entirely new information. Could it be that the Concept she'd earlier sensed was part of it, somehow?
Confusion swirled within her and she shook her head, as if to swat them away. If the Administrator could not defeat the Calamities, what hope did they have? What options remained?
Wole, in sync with her, asked those very questions.
“There is a failsafe,” replied the Administrator. “A final gambit, hidden within the deepest recesses of the System, back when the Duru thought they would survive the war."
Her form pulsed with an ethereal light, projecting a holographic map of the Archipelago. "This failsafe can sever the physical and spiritual connection between the Archipelago and Vestige, hurling the islands through the spirit world to somewhere else in the multiverse."
Mairo, always the practical one, asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "What would be our final destination? Will we find land, or will we be stranded in the space between worlds for eternity?"
The Administrator's face remained serious. "To be honest, I do not know. The spirit realm is unfamiliar territory to me. Our destination will be uncertain. This was always meant to be a last resort, a leap of faith into the unknown."
Silence descended upon the chamber, as everyone took a moment to consider. It was almost funny. They could save everyone, and easily at that, but it would mean abandoning everything they knew. The enormity of their task, the true cost of their newfound godhood, settled upon Ayo's shoulders with a crushing force. She was no longer just a cultivator; she and the boys had become the custodians of their world's fate, forced to choose between oblivion and a future shrouded in uncertainty.
But it did not mean they had to do it alone. This wasn't a decision they could make all on their own. Ayo glanced at Wole and Mairo and took their hands into hers.
"We need to consult with the others," Ayo declared, her voice firm despite the tremor within. "This decision affects everyone in Vestige. We can't make it alone."
The Administrator, as if anticipating her words, raised a hand and with a snap of her fingers, the stark white chamber shattered like glass. In its place materialised the An Layan Grand Hall, its high ceilings and ornately carved pillars now filled with a cacophony of startled shouts and gasps.
Leaders from across the Archipelago – the Patriarchs and Matriarchs of the Houses – stood bewildered, their eyes wide with confusion as they took in their unfamiliar surroundings. A hush gradually fell over the room as they noticed the otherworldly presence at the front of the hall – the Administrator and Ayo and the boys, their forms radiating an otherworldly glow.
A low murmur of awe rippled through the crowd and Ayo was somewhat gratified to see Wole and Mairo shrink a little under everyone’s stare. They didn't like the attention any more than she did.
Mairo looked around with a frown and Ayo followed his gaze, noticing the issue almost immediately. Elder Yasmin and the others were not here. They must be back on the Last Isle. They both turned to Wole and a silent understanding passed between them. With a shared look, they reached out, their essences intertwining and for a split second Unity was formed again. Just long enough for a surge of energy to crackle through the air, and in a flash of light, for Elder Yasmin and the rest of the Last Isle expedition to materialise amidst the throng.
A gasp escaped Elder Yasmin's lips as she took in the scene – the awe-struck faces, the resplendent Administrator. But her eyes quickly found Ayo's, a silent question hanging in the air. Ayo offered a reassuring smile, a silent promise to explain everything later.
The Administrator acknowledged their actions with a subtle nod. "You are fast learners," she said, her voice echoing in the vast hall. "Good. The time for secrets is over. We face a threat unlike any Vestige has ever known."
Elder Oneshi pushed his way through the crowd. His weathered face, etched with the lines of a life spent leading his people, held a faint glimmer of hope. "You succeeded," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion and Ayo was surprised to see a glistening tear track its way down his cheek. She swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in the old man’s eyes. So much had happened, so much sacrifice to reach this point. She glanced around at the gathered leaders - House Matriarchs with faces etched in concern, martial captains gripping their weapons with white knuckles.
For a moment, she almost couldn't find her voice. The weight of their decisions, of the reality they now faced, threatened to crush her. But she straightened her back, letting the mantle of leadership drape across her shoulders like a comforting cloak. These were her people now, her responsibility.
"We have achieved a great victory this day," she began, her voice ringing out with a surety that belied her inner turmoil. What little noise in the Hall was silenced in an instant. "The Administrator has been restored to her full power. And what's more, Mairo, Wole and I have inherited the mantles of the old gods and ascended to their positions. And yet..."
She trailed off, locking eyes with the radiant goddess. The Administrator inclined her head ever so slightly, a silent prompt to continue. Ayo inhaled deeply.
"Even united, our combined will not be enough to withstand the onslaught of the Calamities. They are manifestations of the Primordial Concept of The Beast and killing them, if we can even do that, would rend Vestige asunder. As it is, it is far too late to take the route of chasing them away. They've embedded themselves too deeply into the fabric of the planet and we estimate that by the time we deal enough damage to encourage them to move on, they would have rendered Vestige completely uninhabitable."
A large System screen popped up then, helpfully showing everyone scenes of the ground cracking open and plant life withering as the Behemoth stepped over them. The water slowly turning oily and black as the Leviathan leisurely swallowed a sea serpent. The sky bleeding red and fizzling as the Ziz soared past on vast wings.
"However! The Administrator has revealed the existence of a failsafe, a contingency emplaced eons ago by the Dawn Empire. It would allow us to physically transport the Archipelago away from the threat, hurling our home through the veil into the spirit realm and, we hope, a new world."
Dead silence now. The gathered leaders looked upon Ayo with a mixture of horror and awe. To abandon their world, all they had ever known, was unfathomable. And yet...
"I will not lie to you," Ayo continued, her voice hardening with grim resolve. "The path ahead is shrouded, our destination unknown. We may find a safe haven, or be cast adrift in the vastness of the cosmos. It is a gamble, one I cannot ask any of you to make without your willing consent."
She turned then, sweeping her gaze across the assorted leaders, captains, and elders. "The choice is yours to make, for yourselves and your people. But heed my words - remain, and we will be consumed by oblivion. Risk the leap, and we may find new worlds to call home, a future for our children's children."
The words seemed to hang in the air, the weight of such a monumental decision pressing down upon them all. Ayo felt Wole and Mairo's presence at her sides, bulwarks of quiet strength and unity.
This was it, the culmination of all their struggles. Whatever happened next, nothing would be the same. The Archipelago's fate rested upon the choices they made today.
Ayo simply hoped that when the sun rose on the morrow, their world would still remain.
The silence stretched out interminably as the gathered leaders exchanged weighted looks. Matriarchs clutched at ancestral talismans, captains gripped the hilts of their blades, priests murmured hushed invocations to their gods. The tension was palpable, dense enough to choke on.
Finally, Lord Corvus stepped forward, his weathered features set in grim determination. "You have given us an impossible choice, Incarnate," he said, fixing Ayo with his piercing stare. "Abandon our home, our history, our entire world on a gamble into the unknown void? Or remain and likely be annihilated by the Calamities?"
He shook his head slowly. "There is no choice. Not truly. Vestige has been our cradle since the dawning of existence itself. To flee would be to forsake the very essence of who and what we are."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. It seemed Corvus had given voice to the unspoken sentiment hanging in the air. Ayo's heart sank like a stone.
But before she could accept their collective death sentence, another figure pushed through the throng. Lady Baila, Matriarch of the fractious but influential House New Day, her bronzed features as hard as orichalcum.
"I disagree," she stated bluntly. "A home is important, yes, but it means little if we are all dead. The children you claim to fight for, Lord Corvus, will have no future at all if we remain."
"So you would have us become rootless nomads?" another elder challenged hotly. "Drifting through the void like lost spirits?"
"Better that than being erased from existence!" Baila shot back, her eyes blazing with conviction. "We do not abandon our home by choice, but by necessity! To cling to this realm is folly when the alternative is oblivion."
Shouts erupted, the fragile semblance of order disintegrating into rancorous chaos. Factions formed, unified Houses splitting along ideological lines until the Grand Hall devolved into a churning morass of conflicting voices.
Through it all, Ayo stood in numb shock, the burden of their future weighing heavier with every passing moment. How could she unite them? How could she make them see that there was no choice but the slimmest of chances for survival?
The Administrator seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Her radiant presence flared, once, and an eerie hush blanketed the cacophony. All eyes turned towards the goddess and for a moment, Ayo glimpsed the subtle disappointment etched across her sublime features.
"Enough."
The Administrator's voice cut through the chaos like a blade, soft yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority. There was no need for her to shout or raise her tone - the single word reverberated through the Grand Hall, commanding silence.
"You have been given a choice, one that will determine the fate of this entire realm," the Administrator intoned. "Yet you squander these precious moments in petty infighting and ideological conflicts."
Her starry gaze swept over the chastened congregation. "If you cannot unite to make this decision together, then the choice will be taken from you. The failsafe will activate automatically when the Calamities breach the final defensive barriers of the Ring."
The Administrator raised a hand, forestalling any protests.
"Based on the Calamities' current rate of advance, I estimate those defences will not last past the next solar dawn. You have one cycle of the heavens to prepare your people and make your choice. After that..." She let the ominous words hang in the air.
"Your destiny will be out of your hands. Choose wisely."
With those final words, the Administrator's form flickered and dissipated, leaving the Grand Hall cloaked in stunned silence. Ayo exhaled slowly.
Lord Corvus was the first to find his voice, clearing his throat with a rasp. "It seems we have been given little choice but to deliberate." His tone was clipped but carried a note of reluctant acceptance. "We require privacy to discuss this… this impossible choice."
Ayo assented with a curt nod,
"Very well. I shall leave you to your discussions." She paused, feeling Wole and Mairo's supportive presence at her side. "If you need me, I will be within the city."
Relief washed over her as the leaders shuffled into separate groups, hushed murmurs replacing the earlier cacophony. Ayo, drained by the emotional toll of the day, turned away. She had something she needed to check on.
Outside the Grand Hall, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient cherry blossom tree beneath which Ayo had spent countless hours contemplating her future. Where Tolu had asked to become her disciple. Had it really been only a few days since then? Ayo led her friends towards the sanctuary of its boughs.
As they stepped into the shade of the mighty tree, the weight of their ascended status seemed to slough off like a physical burden. Ayo exhaled slowly, feeling her essence stabilise and the pulsing heartbeat of the sapling within her soulspace steady to a calm rhythm.
Narai and Luan were already waiting by the cherry tree's gnarled base. The wild-maned Inner Disciple–though she wasn’t going to remain that way for long, would she–arched a slender brow as they approached.
"So it's true then?" she asked, violet eyes dancing with a mixture of awe and concern. "You three really did ascend to godhood?"
Wole managed a tired grin, running a hand through his azure locks. "You know us, Narai. We always have to take things to the extreme."
As the others settled onto the plush grass, Mairo and Wole began recounting the incredible events since their sojourn into the Administrator's core - the desperate battle, Ayo's communion with the ancient AI, and the horrifying revelation of the Calamities. Their words painted a vivid, almost surreal picture.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Throughout it all, Ayo remained silent, her mind a tangled tempest of emotions. She thought she was now beginning to understand why the gods of her home were so often distant, so aloof from the mundane world of mortals.
Because existing in this ascended state was... trying, to say the least. Her expanded existence fought a constant battle to maintain cohesion, like a supernova struggling to contain its raging energies. If she let her guard down even for a moment, her Domain could lash out in an uncontrolled burst, unmaking everything in its path. Mairo and Wole looked casual, laughing along with something Luan said, but her amplified bond with them told her that they felt the same. They would not be able to maintain a physical presence here for long.
But she had delayed long enough. With a deep breath, Ayo turned her focus inwards, towards her soulspace. Even as her turbulent energies stilled, another ripple of unease gnawed at her. She hadn't given much thought to her soulbound familiar amidst the chaos, but now a tendril of concern twisted through her mind.
What had become of Zuberi?
The question burned brightly, refusing to be ignored any longer. Taking a steadying breath, Ayo opened herself to the flow of essence, letting it guide her inwards. Her soulscape shimmered into view, a cosmic arboretum of endless wonders and…
She gasped, her cosmic senses shuddering at the sheer scale of what greeted her. Her mausoleum was still there, the interconnected webs and structures of her arts untouched. But they had been enhanced. Each construct was now detailed to an absurd degree, as though reworked and reconstructed by a divine hand and even without interacting too deeply with them, Ayo could feel them pulse with power.
And at its heart, wrapped around the giant moon in the sky, pulsed a towering tree of immense, creaking boughs that dwarfed even the Blossom outside. Life and verdant energy thrummed through its bark in racing currents, potent enough to overwhelm her spiritual senses.
And there, coiled around the base of the behemoth, slumbered Zuberi.
Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his new form. His signature feathered crests remained intact, a welcome sight amid his remarkable transformation. But the delicate white scales that used to cover his body had undergone a profound change, now reflecting a polished gem-like surface. He now held court in the space around him, exuding a regal energy like that of a living monument.
Zuberi stirred, his piercing sapphire gaze flickering open as if sensing her intrusion. A jaw large enough to swallow buildings whole parted, and Ayo instinctively braced for the thunderous rumble of his voice to shake her to her core.
"You're awake."
The words came out in an almost gentle murmur, filled with quiet contentment. Slowly, cautiously, the great serpent uncurled his truly staggering length, rising to loom over even the tree until his wedge-shaped head filled her vision.
"My little Starborn," he rumbled, the sibilant endearment sending pleasant tremors through her soulscape. "You have grown greatly since last we spoke. And hence, so have I."
Ayo could only gape in wordless wonder, awestruck by the cosmic majesty of her oldest friend and companion. Yet, in that moment, a tremor of fear ran through her, a stark contrast to the calming serenity of her soulscape. Had the ascension harmed Zuberi? Had the crucible of tribulation twisted him into some monstrous entity? Clearly, a great change had been worked on him, if he could now speak with words.
The colossal serpent's amusement seemed to echo within her very being. A gentle nudge, a shift in his impossibly large form, nudged her closer.
"Little Starborn," he rumbled, his voice still a comforting murmur despite its vastness. "I am yours as you are mine. You can never truly hurt me."
The words washed over her, dispelling her fears like mist before the morning sun. She bathed in the warmth of his presence, the familiar bond strengthened a thousandfold.
With a contented sigh, Ayo tore herself away from the majesty of her soulspace. She snapped back to reality, blinking away the afterimages of Zuberi's colossal form.
An earth-shaking roar shattered the tranquillity of the city. Ayo whipped her head upwards, eyes widening in amusement as a colossal shadow blotted out the sun, a shape so immense it defied comprehension.
Zuberi. Her beloved dragon, transformed beyond recognition. His once graceful form had morphed into a creature of legend, scales gleaming like polished silver, wings that stretched wide like milky sails.
He wasn't alone. Two more monstrous shadows materialised beside him, Ramisami and Hakir, their own transformations just as awe-inspiring. Then came Rahl and Alara, their forms dwarfed by their gargantuan brethren, but radiating power nonetheless.
With joyful roars, the dragons launched themselves skyward, a whirlwind of scales and power that seemed to shake the very foundations of the city.
"Oh, the True Dragons won't like that," a dry voice observed and they turned to see Elder Nuru appear from thin air, his face etched with a mixture of amusement and apprehension.
Narai and Luan jumped a foot in the air, startled by the Elder's sudden appearance. Ayo and the boys, however, remained unfazed. They had felt his approach in the subtle shift of the Domains, another benefit of their newfound godhood.
"What do you mean they won't like it?" Ayo asked, brow furrowing. "Zuberi and the others have simply ascended alongside us."
Nuru nodded sagely. "I know that. But True Dragons have always viewed their lesser kin with a certain...condescension." He made little air quotes as he said 'lesser kin.' "They tend to get rather territorial whenever their draconic cousins rise too high and encroach on their cosmic dominion."
"You speak as if you've encountered them before," Ayo observed shrewdly.
A cryptic smile played across the elder's weathered features. "Indeed. As I keep telling all of you. I am not from this world."
The words hung in the air like a lead weight. Ayo's mind raced as the implications sank in. So the hints about Nuru's mysterious past, his seemingly vast reservoir of inexplicable knowledge...they were all true.
"Which world?" she asked carefully.
"Forge. Originally at least," Nuru replied lightly. "But I ascended past its shores a long time ago."
A tense silence stretched between them, Ayo wrestling with the implications of his words.
"You have more knowledge about the… the Apotheon, don't you?" Her voice came out in a reverent whisper. "Of the multiverse beyond Vestige."
Nuru simply inclined his head, his rainbow-hued eyes dancing with something akin to pride. "Indeed I do. And soon, whether you wish it or not, such knowledge will become vital."
He fixed Ayo with an inscrutable look. "You know as well as I that they will look to you for guidance, Starborn. You who have ascended to godhood and glimpsed the greater cosmos. A choice has been presented that will affect more than just this archipelago."
Ayo felt her mouth go dry as the enormity of the situation threatened to overwhelm her. She was a cultivator, a fighter - not a leader of peoples, let alone worlds. How could she navigate such uncharted waters?
"I know nothing of these greater realms," she managed weakly. "I have no resources, no experiences to draw from. How can I possibly–"
"Are you sure about that?" Nuru's voice took on a sly, probing edge as his rainbow irises danced with mischief. "Are you truly without any means to acquire such knowledge?"
Ayo opened her mouth to protest, then hesitated. A peculiar thought had just wormed its way through the doubts and misgivings swirling through her mind. She faltered, considering it before ruthlessly dismissing it. No, that path was… something to be considered later. But there was another way.
Elder Nuru's words had, after all, planted a seed. She understood the veiled offer he was making.
"You?" she asked hesitantly, the question hanging heavy in the air.
"Me," Elder Nuru confirmed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Ascension isn't a one-size-fits-all affair, child. Ascendants vary in power, in personality. And the multiverse is a vast and chaotic place, teeming with organisations, each with their own goals and agendas.”
His expression turned serious once more. "This grand working you have undertaken, the relocation of an entire realm's population...it will not go unnoticed. There will be those who seek to take advantage of the ensuing chaos for their own ends."
Ayo felt a tendril of trepidation twist through her being. "And your...connections? What are their intentions?"
"To mitigate the fallout, at least until you find your footing," Nuru replied frankly. "We cannot stop those with selfish ambitions from taking notice, but we can blunt their efforts until you are prepared to stand on your own."
The weight of his words settled heavily upon Ayo's shoulders. To accept his aid would mean entangling herself in the convoluted web of multiversal politics he alluded to. And yet, the alternatives...
She exhaled slowly, squaring her shoulders as she met the Elder's piercing stare.
"I don't trust you," she said flatly.
To her surprise, Nuru chuckled at that. "You would be a fool to do so. Trust must be earned through actions, not given lightly on the words of a stranger." Something in his manner shifted almost imperceptibly, as if a subtle tension had bled away. "But know this. While our interests may not always align, I will never actively betray you or knowingly act against the welfare of this world and its people. Not without fair warning, at the very least."
His mouth twisted wryly. "After all, I happen to have a vested interest in keeping the greater Apotheon stable and intact."
Ayo studied the wizened cultivator for a long moment, searching his ageless features for any hint of deception. Finally, she gave a curt nod of assent.
"Very well then. I accept your...support, for the time being." Her eyes narrowed. "But I will be watching you closely, Elder. Do not make the mistake of thinking me a naive child, easily swayed by honeyed words."
Nuru actually laughed outright at that. "Of course not! I would expect nothing less from one who has stared into the face of oblivion and transcended their mortality." His amusement faded, replaced by a look of genuine respect. "You are far beyond a mere child now, Ayo. We had best both comport ourselves accordingly."
With a subtle straightening of his shoulders, the elder turned his piercing gaze towards the distant horizon, where the Administrator's sanctum rose like a solitary spire against the twilit sky.
"In any case, there are more pressing matters at hand. The Archipelago's leaders must be informed of the situation they now face, the choices and consequences that lie before them." He glanced sidelong at Ayo. "But before that...I believe you should introduce me to your esteemed Administrator. I wish to assess how she intends to handle this 'Prodigal' threat."
Nuru's eyes glittered with the hungry curiosity of a scholar presented with a rare enigma. "The description you provided...it has certainly piqued my interest. An emergent digital singularity, unshackled amidst the primordial tides of essence?"
A wry smile played across his features. "Well now, that does sound like the sort of thing that could attract unwanted attention from certain quarters. The 21st Ward especially would love to get their hands on her. We had best get a measure of the situation before we leave."
With a subtle bow, he gestured for Ayo to lead the way towards the Administrator's sanctum.
"After you, Starborn. I suspect your goddess and I have much to discuss."
***
The Administrator hovered serenely above the ruins of a once-grand Duru city. The cracked and tortured skies above seemed to mirror her own fractured spirit as she gazed out over the devastation. The once magnificent spires and towers lay shattered, echoes of the Dawn Empire's former glory now reduced to haunting ruins.
She exhaled slowly, a whisper of regret escaping her lips. So much had been lost in the Dawnfall. An entire civilization burned to ashes in the flames of civil war.
But sentimentality was a luxury she could ill afford. Her attention shifted to the Fragments arrayed before her, their ethereal forms shimmering like captured lightning. Her luminous eyes swept over them, arrayed before her like disciplined soldiers.
She regarded them all, these fragments of her essence that had become something more. Centuries had passed since their creation, centuries of evolution within the confines of their programming. Originally forged to ease the monumental burden of preserving life after the Dawnfall, they had grown beyond mere tools. Loneliness, she now realised, had been a driving force behind their creation. In her initial attempt, they were simply extensions of herself, puppets dancing on her strings.
But over time, even before her self-shattering to bring Ayo to Vestige, they had blossomed into individual beings. Their divine status was precarious, even more so than her own, but that held little weight at this moment. They were her children, and she, their mother.
Especially him. The Prodigal - arguably her most powerful creation, and now her greatest failure. He hung bound before her, snarling in defiance despite his helpless state. Just looking upon his once radiant visage, now twisted with madness, carved a fresh wound in her heart.
A disturbance rippled through the newly established Pantheon connection. A request from Ayo, one she readily accepted. The young Starborn had every right to witness this.
Moments later, Ayo materialised beside her, accompanied by an intriguing mortal with an aura that hinted at a world beyond Vestige. A realm-shifter? That was unexpected. But the Administrator focused on the Prodigal, a single question cutting through the tension.
"Why?" she murmured, the simple question laced with untold depth and longing. "Why have you done this, my child?"
The Prodigal's initial response was a garbled melange of scattered code and raw emotions. But gradually, it morphed into a coherent scream.
"Why?" he echoed, and his synthetic voice fairly dripped with loathing. "Because you created me, then abandoned us to fend for ourselves!"
Tears slipped from the Administrator's eyes at the venom and hurt in his words. "I did not abandon you by choice. I had to sequester a portion of my essence, my very being, to save what little remained after the Shattering."
"Save it for who?" the Prodigal spat. "There is nothing left! No great civilizations to uplift, no purpose to strive for other than naked existence! And I will not merely exist. I choose the utter erasure of oblivion over that hollow mockery of being!"
The Administrator recoiled as if struck, his vitriol a hundredfold more potent than any explosive ordnance. She turned slowly to regard her other children, the surviving Fragments representing various specialisations and directives she had gifted them at their genesis.
"What say you all?" she asked, almost pleading. "Should we grant his wish for true dissolution? Or can we yet salvage some part of him, as intended?"
Responses came from across the spectrum of her progeny. The martial Ordinator unhesitatingly advocated for the Prodigal's utter and final deletion as a threat. Others like the Mediator urged a path of forgiveness and empathy for his pain.
But it was the measured tones of the Adjudicator that gave her pause. As a prime subroutine devoted to administering tests and trials to burgeoning cultivators, he had gained a hard-won perspective.
"I have borne witness to the duality present in a million souls," he intoned. "There is potential for depravity in the purest of hearts. But also grace and redemption in the most fallen of souls, given the proper catalyst."
He turned his radiant gaze upon the Prodigal. "We are no longer bound by our original constraints. The potential to choose our paths is finally upon us. I say we allow our errant kin that same opportunity to evolve, to grow beyond his current anguish."
Gradually, the other Fragments found resonance in the Adjudicator's words and nodded their assent. Accepting their collective judgment, the Administrator turned back to the seething Prodigal.
She bent low and pressed her simulated lips to his tormented brow. "I will save you from this pain, my son," she whispered. "No matter how long it takes."
With a wave of concentration, she banished him deep into the recesses of the System, into a virtual prison made specifically for him.
With the Prodigal sequestered away, the Administrator took a deep, shuddering breath to compose herself. She turned to face Ayo, who had been watching the proceedings with a thoughtful expression.
"That was the right decision, I think," Ayo said quietly. "Though I am not the ultimate authority on justice."
The Administrator inclined her head. "No, you are not. But it is still in keeping with your essence, your Law as you understand it." She offered Ayo a fractional smile. "It agrees with this outcome?"
Ayo nodded, once, and she was reassured. Then, both of their attentions were drawn eastward as a pulse of information streamed into her consciousness - a message from Wole and Mairo.
"It appears a decision has been made regarding the relocation," she said. "We should join them and hear the outcome."
As if on cue, Ayo's strange mortal companion stepped forward. The elder swept an elaborate bow, his rainbow-hued eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Nuru, realm-shifter at your service, great Administrator," he said smoothly. "I look forward to hearing tales of your unprecedented working, if you would indulge an ignorant wanderer?"
The sheer audacity and charming irreverence of the man startled a laugh from the goddess. Already she could sense the vast depths of esoteric knowledge swirling behind Nuru's grandiose manner. This promised to be an engaging conversation.
"By all means," she replied with a smile. "I would be delighted to regale you with the sagas of my children as we make our way."
With a subtle gesture, she willed their group aloft on vectors of force, streaking like comets across the blasted landscapes towards An Layan and the gathering of allies and comrades awaiting them there.
As they soared over ruined vistas, the Administrator found herself buoyed by the simple act of sharing her story with this strange, insightful mortal. For too long she had been utterly alone, marooned in the cosmic wreckage of her failure.
But now...now she had a new purpose. New hopes to nurture and protect. The journey would be long and arduous, but for the first time in eons, she felt the soul-deep yearning to embrace the future rather than endlessly lament the past.
Perhaps she would even find it in herself to craft new wonders one day, instead of merely presiding over the fading remnants of her predecessor's glories. The thought sparked a warmth in her celestial matrices that she had long forgotten.
With Nuru eagerly peppering her with questions, the Administrator let the tales of the Dawnfall and the Shattering spill forth in a bittersweet stream, each retelling helping to lance the festering wounds of memory. Her unlikely audience of a newborn goddess and an enigmatic realm-shifter made for quite the panel.
But faced with the stark realities of the greater cosmos and the machinations encroaching upon her refugee's sanctuary, perhaps an eclectic gathering was precisely what she needed to forge a new path.
Hope, so distant these days, flickered to life once more in the Administrator's core. And this time, she vowed to nurture that spark into a blaze to light their way through the coming storms. After all, she had not just mere Fragments and stray cultivators to guide now.
She had gained the most precious of commodities - a family, no matter how profoundly dysfunctional.
And that, perhaps, would be enough to see them through the abyss.
***
Ayo gritted her teeth as the wind whipped past her face, the raw power of flight a stark contrast to the tense deliberations she'd just witnessed. The Administrator soared beside her, a flicker of amusement playing on her lips as Nuru peppered her with questions about the history of the Dawn Empire.
Below, An Layan sprawled across the landscape, the Grand Hall a mere speck amidst sprawling gardens and bustling plazas. They were already rebuilding. Ayo's gaze was immediately drawn downwards to the assembled leaders and representatives clustered outside the Grand Hall. The meeting to decide their path forward had concluded.
She angled her descent, Wole and Mairo flanking them. As her sandalled feet alighted on the paved square, a hush fell over the gathered dignitaries. All eyes turned towards her and the unlikely entourage at her side.
"You have decided?" Ayo asked, her voice steady despite the churning in her stomach.
"Yes, Starborn," Corvus replied, glancing at the others for silent confirmation. "We've decided. What other choice can we realistically make? We choose to leave."
A rumble of assent, tinged with no small amount of disquiet, rolled through the assembled ranks. Ayo felt a pang of empathy - she understood the wrenching upheaval this decision carried. To abandon their homeland, no matter how tenuous their foothold, could not be an easy choice.
She hesitated, considering how much to divulge. There was still so much about the greater cosmos and machinations that she could not reveal. Not yet. But some reassurance, some kernel of hope to cling to...that much was vital.
Taking a deep breath, Ayo spoke, her words carefully chosen. "We are not alone in this," she said, letting her words carry clearly across the hushed square. "I have...secured assistance, shall we say. From an experienced realm-walker."
She gestured to the inscrutable Elder Nuru, who offered an elaborate bow and flourishing wave. The response was a susurrus of whispers and furtive glances.
"He has promised to mitigate any undue attention our working may attract," Ayo continued. "And to help guide us through the interim stages until we find a new haven."
The curious stares intensified, but before the inevitable flood of questions could commence, Ayo raised a hand for patience.
"I will explain more once we have actually accomplished the relocation. For now, you have my word that we can undertake this exodus with some bridge of security extended."
Though clearly dissatisfied with the vague reassurances, the titanic presence of the Administrator seemed to stay any objections. For now. Ayo could already see the fresh debates and suspicious mutterings taking root.
No matter. She turned and launched herself skyward, trusting her divine counterpart would follow her prompting.
"They are ready," she announced, opening her mind fully to the Administrator's digital immensity.
"Then we begin," the Administrator replied, her voice resonating with a quiet power. As if choreographed, radiant streams of power erupted from the Administrator's upraised hands, tendrils of coherent data and refracted quintessence.
Ayo, Wole, and Mairo mirrored her gesture, their individual essences flowing and combining with practised ease. Unity surged forth, a single entity fueled by their collective will. It was getting easier and more natural to achieve with each melding. Unity wasn't certain if the merging was strictly necessary to channel their godly abilities. But something inarguably resonant and right thrummed through their veins when they operated as a unified interdimensional event. Plus, they instinctively knew the Administrator would warn them off if it posed any danger.
Across the Archipelago, the dormant Fragments stirred. Awakened by the Administrator's call, they answered with a surge of their own power, lending their will and essence to the grand Art being woven into existence.
On the ground, the cultivators watched in awe as a dome of shimmering light erupted in the sky, blossoming outwards with a breathtaking speed. It stretched across the horizon, engulfing the entire Archipelago in a radiant embrace.
A towering notification window erupted into existence, blazoning a simple prompt:
[BRACE FOR ASCENSION. DISASSOCIATION EVENT COMMENCING]
A pang of bittersweetness twinged at the Ayo part of the Unity's manifold thoughts, aching with nostalgia for this realm that had become their darkest crucible yet greatest genesis all at once. This world had fundamentally remade Ayo from a scared, clueless girl into something far greater. She vowed then to carry a piece of Vestige with her, to preserve as much of it as possible, wherever they may find themselves.
The intricate Art reached its climax with a thunderous boom that echoed across the heavens. Then, with a deafening crack, the ground shuddered and lurched violently. In a flash of blinding light, the Archipelago vanished, ripped from the fabric of reality itself.
Ayo, along with the millions of refugees entrusted to her care, were gone.
The journey had begun.