Within the biggest room in the biggest ship present on Earth's horizon sat an old man. He was cross-legged, his eyes closed, seemingly in a meditative trance. A neat, cone-shaped goatee hung off his face and long, flowing hair fell past his elbows. The aged lines on his face and the pure white of his hair were testament to the many years the man had borne witness.

Around him swirled a whirlwind of powerful, potent Flux. It spun around the man like the raging tides of a river, so thick and dense it obscured him from sight. The smoke was an utter white, the white of fluffy summer clouds or untouched fields of snow. The bed under the man creaked and groaned under the immense weight and the luxurious room was ruined by the chaos.

The chaos, however, was clearly hard to maintain. After a few minutes, the man let loose a deep breath, the swirling smoke suddenly dissipating, disappearing into nothingness. Stillness returned to the room, silent save for the man’s heavy breathing.

There was a knock at the door, and the man answered without even looking up. “Come in,” he said, his old voice gravelly yet quiet.

The heavy wooden doors swung open to reveal an old woman, who stood with her hands tucked into her sleeves. A small, kind smile adorned her aged face. “Still can’t do it?” she asked gently.

The man hung his head, palms covering his face. “The blasted runes are just so complex!” he swore, frustration coating his voice.

The old woman chuckled. “You’d think you’d have learned by now that getting angry will only make it harder. It has only been, oh I don’t know, a few thousand years.” Her voice had an intimate warmth to it, despite its teasing lilt.

The man chuckled, tension leaving his hunched shoulders. “You’re right,” he said with a warm smile, looking up at the woman with tender eyes. “Come, sit,” he said, patting the spot beside him.

The woman returned his smile as she made her way over to him.

“Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?” the man asked as she sat down.

“I went down for a bit,” the woman answered nonchalantly.

“Aya…” the man began, but she waved him off.

“I know, I know, it's risky and all. But you know I just can’t say no to little Leo, after all.”

The old man raised his eyebrows. “He called you down?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “He should know better.”

“Actually,” Aya corrected, “it was for a good reason. He found quite the peculiar case this time.”

The man looked at her. “Is that what’s been bothering you?” he asked.

Aya looked up at the man, surprised. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled softly at her. “Oh come on, Aya. I may not be as sharp as you are, but after a few thousand years, even I picked some things up. What’s wrong?” His voice was kind, gentle, but the woman could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to let go of this.

Aya sighed, looking down at her hands. “I’m sure you’ve felt it too. Because of the Planet Seal, Astros’ Threads are almost nonexistent here.”

The man nodded. “It’s what’s been causing me so much trouble with the summoning rune. Even with our regard for the mages who wrote the Planet Seal, we were still underestimating them. To cut off the very Threads of the universe is an unimaginable feat.” He paused, confusion written on his face. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

Aya laughed. “No, you idiot,” she said lightly. “I’m getting to it. Because of the almost nonexistent Threads, the Truth of the world was very weakly hidden. So I took a little peek.”

The man gasped. “Aya!” he said, his voice a mixture of admonishment and worry.

Aya waved off his concern again. “The defense was weak, so I’m sure Astros won’t be too mad about it, if it even notices.”

“Still, Aya!” the man said, not to be deterred this time. “That is not something you can do lightly! Especially before such an important fight. We can’t have your soul getting damaged right now.”

Aya smiled sheepishly, unable to dodge the nagging this time. “You’re right, I know. But still, I just felt compelled to do it. I needed to see something.”

“That must be what’s bothering you! Are you sure your soul is fine? Maybe we should get a soul mage to take a look.”

Aya shook her head in adamant denial. “No, my soul is fine. I might not be a soul mage, but my affinity is still tied closely to it. I’d know if I was suffering from a backlash. And besides, I know what’s bothering me. I found what I wanted to know from the Truth. It’s…It’s what I saw that’s bothering me.” The woman paused then, going silent for a minute.

The man didn’t push, despite his curiosity. He desperately wanted to know what his wife could have seen in the Truth of a Primitive Grade planet that could be bothering her to such a level. As a being that had very likely been alive longer than society had existed on the planet, he couldn’t imagine how something could have happened on the planet that would shake even her.

“I wanted to see the lives of two children,” the woman finally began. “It was something about their eyes. They instantly captured my attention. They looked so…broken, so mature. And I found out why. I saw their lives. And right from the first image, I knew I should’ve stopped. But I couldn’t.” Now that she had begun, the words spilled out of her unfettered, like water from a broken cup. “So I watched. I watched every moment of their lives. Every horrendous moment…It was horrible. I saw things, Arty.” Her voice broke a little, suffocated with grief. “Such cruel things.”

Seeing his wife’s distress, the old man immediately wrapped his arms around the woman, pulling her into his chest.

After a minute of silence, Aya pushed herself away again, a sad smile on her face. “You’re probably confused, huh?” she said, sniffling. “After all, throughout all our adventures, you’d think I’d have gotten used to things like this.”

The man huffed a laugh. “We have seen so much, haven’t we? Remember the Temple of Azgroc?”

Aya shook her head sadly. “Or the Battle of Flazer Field?”

The man nodded somberly. “Oh, yeah. That was…disgusting. A bloodbath.”

Aya scoffed. “You were just a soldier. I was a Receiving Nurse back then. The job no one wanted, not even the hardiest of the healers.”

The man laughed softly, his eyes glowing in reminiscence. “Yeah, I remember. That was the first healing position you ever got, right?”

Aya nodded. “I was so desperate to make a difference, to use what I had to help, that I was even willing to take the worst positions. But in the end, it was worth it. It helped me become who I am now. The things I saw in those tiny medic tents… helped me become the healer I am today.”

The man looked the woman in the eyes. “And what you saw today was worse?”

Aya looked down. “It wasn’t as gory, no. But…it was so much crueler. Everything I’ve ever seen, every battle or bloodbath I’ve ever witnessed, was always between warriors. People ready to die, people who understood the path they had chosen. And even when there were crimes against innocents, it was always indiscriminate. Mass killings born out of a lack of concern, a lack of worth attached to the lives of others. But that…that was different. I will never understand how someone can be so cruel to a child. It was like it was personal, like they hated the child for simply existing. Like the children were being punished for the crimes of another life, but I cannot think of a crime that could warrant such a punishment.”

The man was silent, taking in his wife’s words. A part of him wanted to see these children himself. “How are they still functioning now? After everything they’ve been through?”

Aya smiled sadly. “Astros knows. Maybe they simply don’t understand the things that were done to them. Or maybe their minds just locked out enough of the memories to keep them functioning. Or maybe…maybe they’re just that strong. Maybe their will is just that powerful. I suppose only the future will tell.”

The man smiled at that. “I hope it’s the last one. If they really are that strong, it’ll only be a matter of time before they become mages of great importance.” The man spoke with a glint in his eyes. “That’ll certainly make things very interesting.”

-

Within a deep, hidden crevice in a mountain range lay nestled a dark and damp cave. And within that cave sat a man obscured by a swirling cloud of almost glowing azure smoke. The whirlwind of Flux spun violently, moving like the raging tides of a river. Powerful winds generated by the smoke buffeted the clothes of the single woman present.

She sat demurely, unmoving as a statue. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, her head lowered. Yet despite the serene stillness that possessed her body, her mind raged in turmoil.

Wrathful waves of anger and rage and guilt washed the walls of her mind, her heart a turbulent sea of painful emotion. And throughout the chaos, one thought reigned supreme, echoing again and again in her mind.

She hated insects. So, so much. Now, more than ever before.

As she sat there in the oppressive silence of the cave, her mind dragged her unwillingly to the past. She watched, helpless to do anything, as the images of her own actions replayed endlessly in her mind. She watched herself as she stumbled upon a strange cave in the woods. As she met the strange, powerful man. As she surrendered, like the coward she was, in front of his overwhelming strength. She yelled and screamed at herself, berated herself, but it was futile. She could not change the past, could not remedy the consequences of her actions.

She watched as her beloved Guild Leader – the man who had changed her life, who had saved her life more times than she could count – drank from the poisoned cup. She watched, again and again, as the light faded from his eyes, a forgiveness glowing in them that she did not deserve.

She had thought that she was doing what was best for the guild. She knew the strength of the strange man. She knew that there was no mage on Earth that could stand up to him. She thought that the safest course of action was to join the strange man’s side as soon as possible, that it would have the highest chance of preserving the lives of her guild members.

But the man did not value loyalty, did not care for the help they provided. He barely saw them as living beings, she understood now. Like the rest of the guilds he had captured, her guild members had been sent out to fight until their deaths against the rescuers of humanity. People she had never for a minute thought would come.

If only she had known.

Now, even if the rescuers won, she could never rejoin society. Not after what she’d done. There was no more life for her, no future for her. Not after she had aided in bringing carnage to her entire world.

She thought of her mother’s home in Vancouver. Of her childhood room. Of the millions of other childhood rooms that were now ruined because of her. Of the millions of mothers and fathers that were dead because of her.

No, she thought then. Not because of her. Because of that man. It was that man who had done all this. Not her. Sure, in the end, her actions had helped his goal, but everything she had done was out of a care for her people. All she had wanted was to live the rest of her life out at the side of her Guild Leader, with her friends. A quiet, simple life. She didn’t want any of this.

And if she had resisted the man in the beginning, he would simply have killed her and found someone else. This outcome was entirely a result of his actions. It was because of that man, no, that animal-

The woman suddenly bent over, her lips parting in silent agony. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes as a burning, stinging pain worse than anything in the world took over her entire body; like a million ants biting her everywhere on her body.

Soon, the pain dissipated, leaving behind only a distant echo in the empty husk of her soul. She was left breathing in ragged gasps, her eyes shut as she tried to ignore the wiggling in the base of her neck. She hadn’t forgotten about the centipede, the bug that enforced utter loyalty to the man, but she couldn't help herself. Despite the pain of its bite, she had been constantly pushing its limits, testing to see how much she could get away with.

There was really no reason to, no real plan behind it. Like banging her head against the wall. Perhaps she only did it because it brought her some semblance of control over the mess that her life had become. Or maybe it was because she felt she deserved the pain, a sort of atonement for her sins. In the end, she didn’t really know.

-

Back on the ship, just as the aged couple had finished their conversation, the soft sound of a knock came from their door.

“Enter,” said the man.

The doors opened up once again, revealing a young woman. She dipped herself into a graceful curtsy as she greeted the two. “Archbishop, Mother Saintess, I have a report.”

Aya smiled warmly at the girl. “Yes?”

“We have received confirmation from every teleportation station that all living Earthen not under the control of the Monarch have been given medical treatment and brought up to a transport ship. We are ready to begin the capture.”

Aya pursed her lips as the man nodded. “How many of them did we get? The Earthens?” Aya asked.

“Around a hundred thousand,” the girl replied matter-of-factly, like she was reporting the weather.

“And what of the Insect Monarch?” the man asked.

“The Cloud Saint has reported that the Insect Monarch has not moved from his hiding spot. He has been gathering Flux in seclusion for the past few days, likely in preparation to attempt the Planetary Sacrifice Arte.”

The old man heaved a sigh at the information. “So it appears a fight is inevitable. I had hoped he would’ve given up by now.”

Aya shook her head. “Of course he wouldn’t. Not when he’s that close to transcending. You know how mages get when they are that close to the next step in strength. It’s like waving a drug in front of an addict. It’s an all-consuming madness. And even if he could understand that he stands no chance, he would still fight us till the end, just to spite us.”

The man laughed grimly. “Of course. That man always did seem to harbor an abnormal hatred for us, didn’t he?”

Aya chuckled. “Well, we have been chasing him for at least a few hundred years now. I’d imagine he’s quite tired of us barging in and ruining his plans so often.”

The man smiled, pushing himself up to his feet. “That’s a few hundred years too long to be dealing with that creep. Let’s finally put an end to his career, shall we?”

Aya got up as well, but she seemed worried. “But what of the sword summoning?”

The man shrugged nonchalantly, grinning at his wife. “Eh, I’m sure I’ll figure it out. I always did better under pressure, anyway.”

-

Planet Earth – a planet that once housed over eight billion humans and a plethora of other diverse creatures, providing habitat and life for everything from soaring eagles to deep-sea sharks and anything imaginable in between – now lay almost utterly abandoned. Streets all around the globe lay deserted, from the bustling marketplaces of Morocco to the hustling cities of America. Now, all that remained of humanity’s existence were decrepit cities and grand structures that reached for the sky, monoliths of their limitless ambition. All that told of their proud story were ruined monuments of glass and steel and concrete; abandoned shrines built in the name of their conceit.

Suddenly, an overwhelming pressure pressed down on Earth, as if the planet’s gravity had abruptly multiplied manyfold. Buildings around the globe came crashing down to the ground as their supports buckled under the weight. Bridges fell into the rivers and bays they used to hover over. Avalanches and mudslides swooped through villages and towns, demolishing everything in their paths.

New York City took the brunt of the damage, however. The entirety of the city was instantly flattened, pressed down like a can under a boot. A massive cloud of dust was thrown up as buildings and houses imploded in on themselves, transforming the once towering cityscape into heaps of rubble.

Far above the cloud of dust, a lone man hovered hundreds of meters up in the air, his loose robes fluttering about in the wind. The snowy white of his hair swayed as the man floated in space, his aged eyes surveying the ruined planet at his feet. Sorrow glinted in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by a calm flame. A suppressed anger that threatened to explode out at any moment.

The man’s figure was dwarfed by the expansive backdrop of golden and pink that spread across the heavens. But the pressure his mere presence exuded could be felt everywhere on the planet, even within the deepest caves in the most hidden corners of the earth.

Within one such cave, a man sitting within a swirling cloud of blue Flux opened his eyes. A cruel grin spread across his face as he awoke. “So, the Archbishop of the Grand Order, the legendary holy knight Arterius, finally makes his move.” His voice was frigid, almost inhuman in its lack of emotion. The curl of his lips dripped with murderous malice, painting his face with a look more demon than man.

"Prepare the hornet."