"Olives, you say?"

My host, a heavy-set middle-aged Celestial with a well-cut beard nodded with a hint of pride on his face.

"Just like my father, and my father's father," he stated with a delighted hum, which caused his wife to chuckle and me to let out a thoughtful hum.

I was sitting at a simple, candlelit table inside the equally unembellished home of one of the people I marked during my first foray into the Elysium. The house was small but well-maintained (as much as such an observation applied to the Simulacrum, where everything was brand new, to begin with), and even though both their furniture, food, and clothes were plain, the family exuded a kind of earthy wholesomeness.

There were four of us in the room: the aforementioned olive farmer, his baseline-pretty wife, their young son, and last but not least, yours truly. This was the fifth household I'd visited while wandering the settlement surrounding the white spire, and all of them were rather hospitable, despite the way I showed up in the middle of the night to interrogate them. If anything, even though I didn't even introduce myself, let alone leverage the whole 'Archon' thing, it was as if they considered it an honor to have me as a guest.

"Do you like it?" came my next question, following up on our previous conversation.

While he was considering his answer, drifting in-and-out of the familiar thousand-yard stare, I graciously accepted the mug of water offered by the wife and smiled at the shy boy hiding behind her skirt. At last, my host shook his head.

"There is nothing to loathe."

"Is that so?"

When I pressed on, he locked up for a second all over again, and this time his answer sounded a tad more natural.

"We are granted this land by the grace of Deus. We lack nothing, never have to lay our heads down hungry or cold, and we all have a purpose. What else could we ask for?"

"That's what I'm curious about," I pushed on between two sips from the slightly bitter cup. Was it mineral water, I wondered? "You toil the land day after day, and act like it's the natural state of things, but is there anything else you ever wanted to do?"

"I… can't say I did. I grew up under the guidance of my father, and never wished for more than to continue the family trade."

"Really? So it never once crossed your mind that you could do a more fulfilling job?"

"No, never. Each man's lot is as Deus decreed long ago."

"There's that phrase again…" I muttered under my breath before finishing up my drink. In the meantime, the mother of the household opened the shutters on the windows, revealing the first rays of the morning sun, and then casually blew out the candles and oil lamps in the room one by one.

But back to the man's response; this particular line came up multiple times during my conversations with the various people I'd encountered during the night. I imagined it was some kind of mantra, but it made me wonder. These people were all Placeholders, and not especially well-developed ones at that. They would go through their routine one way or another, so why establish this kind of fanatic hyper-obedience?

In fact, the whole structure and history of the Elysium and Celestials as a whole felt off to me from a narrative standpoint, and I would've probably spent a whole evening dissecting it with the girls if we weren't short on time. I was especially curious about how a 'prophecy' factored into the whole thing when, based on Jaakobah's retelling and the few fragments of memories I managed to sift through, the whole reincarnation-ordeal was an entirely pragmatic matter. Was there even a prophecy? Or was it just inserted into the story by the Narrative so that everyone would have a 'prophecy' to point at Josh? I had no idea, but I decided to focus on solving the Watsonian issues first, and then delve into the Doylist deconstruction once I had the whole picture.

"F-Father? Lots of people are coming…" the young boy stuttered and pointed at the open window.

"More guests?"

The man of the household was ready to stand up, but I gestured for him to stay put.

"They're probably here for me, so I'll go and meet them. Thank you for the hospitality."

I stood up and walked over to the pair of swords I left by the entrance and strapped them to my sides. In the meantime, I could catch snatches of a hushed conversation coming from the other side of the door, but before they could open the door, I pre-empted them by throwing it open and casually walking out.

About two dozen Celestials were waiting for me on the other side. Some of them were obviously guards, based on their attire, while others wore semi-futuristic white suits, stuck somewhere between a fancy high-fashion outfit with all the bells and whistles and a more practical military dress uniform. Most importantly though, the man in the middle immediately caught my interest.

Unlike the rest, he was wearing a toga-based outfit similar to Tsephanyah's, except instead of purple, his outfit was dominated by a deep green color. He wasn't wearing a laurel-wreath headdress, opting for a pair of fancy round glasses and something that, at first glance, looked like a gaudy, gold-plated Bluetooth headset over one hear. Overall, with his short brown hair and his clean-shaved face, he didn't look much older than I was. Probably in his mid-twenties, I guessed.

"A-Archon Polemos!" the green-togaed man exclaimed in a mixture of relief and surprise and hastily waved at the men and women behind. "What are you doing? Pay your respects!"

On command, the people crowding the spot in front of the simple farmer's homestead gave me deferential bows and flashed their wings. As expected, their leader had three pairs of them, showing a clear pattern.

More importantly, it was time to break out my new 'persona' I'd been working on between listening to the placeholder Celestials. First, I straightened my back, then forced my brows into a disdainful frown.

"Put your wings away." The whole group shuddered in unison upon hearing my command, and in less than a second, the glowing eyesores disappeared from sight without a trace. I maintained my silence for a second longer, and then nodded with a grunt. "All of you are too eager to show your wings to others. Back in my day, what you did just now would've been considered a challenge of authority."

"Is… that so? It wasn't my intent at all, O Archon…"

The man in the middle hastily excused himself, and this time, I scoffed and purposefully let him sweat while I leisurely closed the door behind myself, for I did not want my host and his family to get involved in the exchange.

At last, I faced him again and exhaled a supremely melodramatic disappointed sigh.

"I know that. Just keep this in mind; flashing your wing at everyone is the act of a fool. It's something that should be reserved for the battlefield."

"The… battlefield?"

The man's eyes were swimming, but I didn't let up and firmly nodded.

"Yes. It is a sign that you acknowledge your enemy as a worthy opponent. My wings are reserved for the eyes of such respectable foes only."

"I understand. Yes, the Archon's words make perfect sense!" the bespectacled man hurriedly agreed, and his complacency spread like a wave across the rest of the group.

Of course, I didn't say that just to bamboozle them; it was a calculated move to cover one of my disguise's biggest blind spots at the moment. While I could change my outfit to match the expectations of the onlookers, and I already had a few ideas in mind about how to fake Celestial magic, creating functional wings was outside Leoformer's scope, and as for flight, it was outright out of the question. With that in mind, I figured it was best to nip the whole wing-question in the bud, before it could bite me in the ass somewhere down the line.

Anyhow, the Celestial delegation in front of me continued to nod knowingly and eulogize about 'the Archon's great wisdom'. Maintaining my holier-than-thou attitude, I shook my head with one hand touching my forehead and channeled some of my true feelings into a despondent, "These are truly dark times I have awoken to."

"{Ah? Young knight! Why are you imitating me?}"

Ignoring Cal's question, I pointed at the man at the forefront.

"You. Introduce yourself."

"Hm? Ah, I'm terribly sorry! I was just so taken aback by our first meeting, I completely… I-I mean…" Successfully gathering his wits, the young man forcefully cleared his throat and crossed one hand in front of his chest. "I'm Director Dolion Mensah, the head of the Department of Foreign Affairs and Acquisition."

Oh? Didn't Jaakobah mention a certain 'Mensah' in the same breath as Tsephanyah? Would you look at that? One of the big fishes of this tiny pond went ahead and delivered himself onto my plate on his own. How considerate of him.

"Orthodox, Unorthodox, or Reformist?"

My sudden question made him freeze up for a second, but then he proudly declared, "Unorthodox."

"So the same group that originally tried to kidnap me then."

My morose response caused the young Director mood to turn around and he hastily explain himself while sweating bullets.

"No! Or rather, yes, we hoped to be the first ones to make contact with you, O Archon, but our intentions were pure! We were only worried for your safety, and wished to take you out of harm's way! Your well-being is our utmost concern!"

"Is that why you brought these men?" I gestured at the armed hoplite cosplayers busy securing the perimeter. "For my safety?"

"Yes. Once we heard you disappeared from the cust— Erm, the care of Director Tsephanyah, I mobilized all available department personnel to search for you." I did my best to remain cold and aloof while I listened to his explanation, and after a long beat, he awkwardly followed it up with the question, "If I may be so bold to ask… why did you come here, without telling anyone?"

"Do I need permission to see how my people fare in my realm?" I asked back with all the sense of self-assured authority I could squeeze into my voice, but it still felt lacking. In retrospect, maybe I should've picked a less rigid and regal persona; playing Bel came waaay more naturally to me than this.

Despite my reservations about my acting, the bespectacled director repeatedly nodded, like what I just said made perfect sense.

"You're right. Of course. There's no one here who can question your authority, O Archon." Keeping the rest of my face motionless, I raised a single brow to keep him speaking. "So… what are your thoughts?"

"So far, I'm not impressed," I responded in a deadpan tone, and Mensah's face lit up at once.

"Of course! I knew the great Second True Archon Polemos wouldn't find this state of affairs satisfactory! This… This false sense of peace is built upon a façade! Us hiding inside the Elysium, like lambs in a barn, while the wolves are already sharpening their fangs outside!"

Just as he was about to really get into it, a tall blonde woman pinched the man's toga on his shoulder and gave him a firm tug.

"Sir!" she whispered, yet it was loud enough for me to clearly hear it. "You're pushing too hard."

"R-Right. Let's not put the cart before the horse," the Director muttered and straightened his clothes. "So… If I may ask, do you wish to… explore further?"

"No, this much should suffice for the da—"

"In that case, please allow us to escort you back to your residence!"

Ignoring the way he cut me off, I gestured for him to get going. In return, he flashed me a reassuring smile and… didn't move a single step.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Our transportation, O Archon," he told me like the answer was self-evident, so I leveled my deadpannest of stares at him, then pointedly glance at the not-at-all distant tower on our left, and then back at the puzzled director. He, apparently, didn't get it.

"Let's walk."

"B-But…!" By the time he could've formulated a response, I already walked past him and through the crowd behind him (they automatically parted in front of me, as usual), and he had to scurry to catch up to me with a glum, "If that's what the Archon wishes…"

Once he took his place by my side, the rest of the Celestials automatically rearranged themselves into a slightly chaotic procession, and we all headed toward the white tower. While I wasn't exactly keen on the precise layout of the settlement, I figured so long as I kept our easily spotted destination in front of me, we were bound to get there sooner or later. As such, I used the downtime to ask a few more pertinent questions from the man walking next to me.

"Tell me, director. How did you find me here?"

"Ah! It was all thanks to the ceaseless efforts of my subordinates; turning every stone over and interrogating every resident we came across until we found the house where you stayed."

"A very simple method," I mused, doing my best to look only mildly intrigued, as if we were only having small talk. "Does that mean there was no surveillance involved?"

"No. Sadly, we do not have the means." I raised a brow to urge him to go on, and going on he did. "All of it is the fault of Director Savir! I told the Board of Directors that, with only minimal investment, we could've covered every square meter of the Elysium with two or more modern human cameras, but she kept insisting that it was wholly unnecessary, and that building up the infrastructure would've cost too much, and that building a reactor to power the system was a 'gross misuse of funds'! If only we had our surveillance system ready, there's no doubt we could've caught the Abyssal conspirators in the act much sooner, but because of 'tradition' and 'principles' and 'concerns over nuclear safety protocols', we couldn't! Yes, following the teaching of Deus is pivotal, but we can't expect our enemies to follow the same rules!"

"Speaking of rules," I cut in before he could gather even more steam, and glanced at the rapidly lightening sky. "I don't see much flight, if any. Why's that?"

"Oh. That's because flying within Elysium is greatly restricted." It took some effort to still my face and don't give the man a befuddled look, yet the sentiment still got through to him, as he clarified, "First Book of Hymnos, Verse Nineteen. 'You must stand firm, feet on the ground, and rebuke the temptations of the vast skies, for your home is the land your sow with your own hands.'"

"You took that literally?"

My outburst surprised him, but not as much as it did me, and it took me a second or two to recognize that there were one or two memory fragments that resonated with the quote he gave me.

"It… wasn't?"

"No, it was…" My words trailed off as I mulled over it. While I felt that if I dwelled a bit more on these memories, I could've gained some insight… but on the other hand, trying to assimilate fragmentary memories I purposefully went out of my way to discard felt distinctly counter-intuitive. As such, I shrugged and told the bespectacled man, "It's allegorical."

"But then… what does it mean?"

"Do I really have to explain something so simple to you?" I asked back with a sardonic undertone. "Are you a child?"

"No, I'm not!"

He denied my words with such vehemence, I imagined I just stepped on a personal pet peeve of the man, so I switched the direction of the conversation by blandly stating, "Then figure it out on your own. It's not that difficult."

"I'll strive to fulfill your task, O Archon."

And now he was responding with reverence again. It was getting really hard to pin down this guy's personality and how to interact with him, but before I could get the chance to prod him a bit more, his eyes opened wide in alarm.

Following his gaze, I also faced forward, and I was met with three things. Firstly, there was a procession about three times the size of the one I was leading, crowding the gates leading into the gardens surrounding the central tower, and a bunch of them waving familiar blue flags around as if their lives depended on it. Secondly, one of the people leading them was Tsephanyah, still wearing his purple togas and looking rather uncomfortable. Thirdly, and by far the most alarmingly, my thoughts were washed over by a wave of a familiar sense of base irritation, rising in intensity as we approached them.

Blinking in surprise, my eyes scanned the vicinity, and it didn't take long to find the source of the increasingly less irrational sense of antipathy in the form of a tall, lean woman standing by the familiar blonde director's side. She had a pale face, auburn hair done up into a braided bun with a few white strands in it, and she was wearing a toga with a different, more modest cut that was colored a deep, dark red and decorated with golden thread work.

Combined with the usual laurel crown on her head, she gave off a stately, if not outright regal, appearance, and as we came even closer, I locked eyes with her, and… yep, she definitely was the source of the sensation. Well, there goes my theory about it only getting triggered by men in positions of power, I supposed.

While thinking, I might've maintained eye contact longer than necessary, as she let out a soft huff and flashed her wings at me. All six of them.

Seeing her display, the blonde director by her side also hurriedly showed his wings, but before their act could start a wave, Director Mensah rushed ahead of me and waved his hands.

"Stop! Don't carelessly show your wings! It's disrespectful to Archon Polemos!"

"Is it?" Tsephanyah blurted out, seemingly without meaning to, and his bespectacled colleague repeatedly nodded.

"Yes! I have only just learned of this as well."

"Truly?" The aging lady's eyes returned to me, and after a short stalemate, she retracted her translucent wings. "If the Archon requests so, we must show courtesy. For now."

"What do you mean 'for now'?" Tsephanyah burst out, and while his response seemed overblown at first, it made much more sense once the woman leveled a frosty gaze at him.

"It means that whether or not it's a courtesy worth observing still depends on the authenticity of your claims, Director."

This time, it was the man with the glasses' turn to be outraged.

"You dare question the Second True Archon?!"

"I'm not questioning him, I'm questioning Director Tsephanyah," she pointed out before she turned the same cold gaze at me. "Are you the second coming of Polemos?"

"In a manner of speaking," I responded with an equally chilly voice, internally debating whether or not I should ask Cal for some meditation-flow support.

"I'm not impressed by what I see."

"You're not the only one," I answered without thinking, and it caused her expression to soften a little, for some unfathomable reason. It was still anything from welcoming, but it went from 'South Pole permafrost' to 'Scandinavian winter', which was… progress, I supposed?

"Why don't we go inside first?" We both glanced at the blonde director, and he hastily added, "We have much to discuss, don't we?"

"That, we do." The lady in the middle turned back to me, and after an uncomfortably long beat, she declared, "I'm Director Eris Savir, Prime Director, First Speaker, Head of the Board of Directors, Keeper of the Seven Keys, Matriarch of the Cult of Deus, and the final judge of whether you truly are the Second True Archon."

...

Well, great. A new complication, and one that had nearly as many titles as I did. Just what I needed…