September 6, 1615 Central Calendar, 08:30
Sunday morning bloomed, and the family (minus Roderick and Meteora who stayed in Leiden for the latter’s childbirth) had warmed their bellies with a fulfilling breakfast. As Meteos was about to embark on an aimless wander within the sprawling residence, a sizable manor not unlike a nobleman’s estate, to think about many things he still hadn’t the chance to ponder about this new world, Ace stepped out and walked up to the youngest brother.
“Hey, Meteos,” his voice broke through the peaceful atmosphere of that morning, causing Meteos who was alone in his thought turn toward his older brother.
“Yes?”
“Got any plans for today?”
As he looked at Ace, Meteos was momentarily taken aback by the slightly tense edge in his tone and the serious expression on his face.
“No… everyone seems to want to just relax today.”
“I see. If you have nothing to do, are you up for a ride downtown? You know, I feel like going out sightseeing today.”
The request seemed ordinary enough, but putting two and two together… it must have something to do with what happened last night with Legiel, Meteos surmised. Thus, after hesitating for a moment, the youngest brother managed a polite smile for the sake of keeping up an appearance in front of the passing servants, masking the resignation dawning in his eyes.
“Alright, Brother. The weather seems fine,” Meteos replied.
“Hm. Good, then.”
Without another word, Ace led the way to the garage where his autobike awaited and soon the pair maneuvered through the estate’s gates and onto the open road to downtown Runepolis.
Adonis, who had also gone outside to tend the garden that morning with Cyrus and Ashera hanging out nearby, watched silently as the orange Trychaser and its two occupants passed by and gazed at the place where the engine’s whine had subsided for several moments before he lowered his eyes and resumed his task with a flick of his wrist.
The playful jabbering of Ashera cut through the quiet air once again. “‘Dem Bluds look like in for a soul-searching stroll today, huh?”
Legiel appeared out of nowhere with his unbreakable serenity, completing the ensemble of the Four Horsemen. In his hand was an intricately designed, but largely blank card that showed nothing but a label and a dark gray fog.
“It would be better if they could conclude things between themselves so that they and the narrative can go back to focus on the only thing that matters to the Audience. But it’s fine, I will narrate their story all the same. A story is, after all, a story.”
“Bah, your Audience…”
“You seem to underestimate the severity of those Audience when they start to go out of control and destroy other worlds due to their choices, Elder Sister,” the First Horseman idly pointed out.
“Mrrhnn… aaaand what would that ‘thing’ be?” Ashera let out a grunt and spoke slowly, drawing out her words. Her lips curled into a sarcastic grimace.
With a bright smile unperturbed by those barbed words, Legiel turned to his older sister.
“Why, mind-melting technological talk and one-sided military stomps as expected of this genre, of course! What else?”
“Nah, fam. Leave me out of your damned show.”
The face of Ashera, War made manifest, contorted as she jeered in displeasure. The irony of his other siblings and their individual personalities was not lost on Legiel.
Being the only one visibly concerned, Cyrus decided to turn to the eldest sibling. Sensing the air of the whole thing happening between their two younger brothers, which is all but relaxed, Cyrus let out an uneasy sigh.
“……Do you think it’s wise to let them go off alone like that, Brother?”
Not giving a pause from his work, Adonis simply replied, “Their choices shall be the ones to decide how it will turn out. Let them be.”
❖⟐❖⟐❖
While stopping to wait for the red light at a certain plaza in the capital, the two come across a prominent building with a large magical transmission monitor mounted on it. At that moment, a certain advertising catchphrase belonging to a certain company happened to play on the screen, accompanied by a montage concluding with the presentation of a logo featuring a stylized blue tiger head.
“Realizing the blueprint for a better life through the magic of reality. Roguerider Foundation.”
Such was the catchphrase of this conglomerate. For most ordinary Runepolians in the present day, the phrase was as familiar as their morning bread and the household products bearing the company’s brand, but beyond the mere marketing stuff, there was a wink of declaration of their intention to shape the world.
The conglomerate’s roots, surprisingly, lay not in the magic technology that it is now famous for, but in the world of construction. Founded by then-unknown Roderick Roguerider, it started as a modest civil engineering consulting firm called Nuada Engineering Solutions. Within a few short years after the birth of his first child, the company then expanded well beyond its initial business, venturing into the often-underestimated field of everyday civilian goods. Their plans extended even further, reaching beyond the Middle Lands as they also rode on the Holy Empire’s economic expansion plans abroad which marked the early decade of the 1600s. Fueled by the family’s ambition and matched with their savviness, the company evolved into one of the most successful and influential conglomerates in history. The family’s mastery of magic technology and its application in their endeavors, including getting themselves a state-of-the-art magic circuit fabrication plant, became the primary key that facilitated their rapid growth. This allowed them to rival other private-owned giants in scale, such as the Aikon Corporation of the Legendorga family that dominated the telecommunications industry.
Naturally, an organization of such prowess did not escape the attention of the Holy Empire’s government, leading to their inclusion in the overarching scheme to safeguard the world against the resurgence of the Ancient Sorcerous Empire in a world where the summoning of random and unpredictable entities into this world was no longer necessary or welcome.
“………”
Meteos told himself at that coincidence, that he would have to get used to such an abrupt change, processing the situation in his mind. Aware that this outing was hardly a leisurely joyride between siblings, he racked his mind in anticipation of what would unfold next.
“……Do you know a quiet place with nice scenery around here?” Ace finally broke the silence he had maintained since departing the house and looked over his shoulder.
“A waterfront on the northern bank would be a good place.”
“Alright.”
The signal lamp turned from red to green, and the Trychaser continued to thrum through the capital’s bustling arteries. Ace continued to bring the autobike weaving through the automobiles in silence, keeping his gaze fixed ahead underneath his helmet, while Meteos refrained from speaking even one word on his perch on the back seat, his posture stiff and his eyes wandering. The cheery morning breeze that rustled through the city seemed to offer no solace, only highlighting the tension simmering between the brothers. Finally, Ace brought the autobike to a stop at a quiet spot near the edge of the Loronar Waterfront District on the northern bank of the Great Sumter River.
“…Quite a view, isn’t it?”
Amidst the cool air, Meteos let out a remark upon sight of the scenery punctuated by the shimmering waters stretching out before them and walked towards the railing. Ace followed suit, resting his hands on the railing and settling beside his younger brother.
Not even half a year ago in Meteos’ mind, the vessels sitting on the Academy Yards directly across the waterfront park would be a catamaran carrier and the familiar magic battleships of the Imperial Navy undergoing maintenance and refit to keep up with this country’s evolving magic technology. But after the shift into the Third Timeline and its consequences, that catamaran carrier was nowhere to be seen anywhere near the docks. While there were vacant slipways reserved for the maintenance of other ships, there was a more sophisticated battleship-sized hull under construction and in that missing carrier’s place there was one hull that was still undergoing construction after two years had passed since she was laid down—in this timeline. The latter was still the hull of a flattop, but it was a flattop never seen before in this known world.
Within the framework of “Project OWL,” one of the three ongoing major research and development projects handled by the Ancient Ministry in collaboration with the relevant organizations, this aircraft carrier—the titular ship actually bearing the name of Orphan Wolf Legend—was built based on the Next-Generation MAV Design Study created by the Roguerider siblings around a decade ago, similar to how Meteos in the Second Timeline played around with his GP Designs. These three endeavors appeared to be a mirror of the Alpha Edge Project from the Second Timeline, while the name itself was used in a project back in 1611 which resulted in this timeline’s version of Alpha-2, the known world’s strongest air force. Unlike its sister design studies, this one took extra time to work on the first ship alone due to how it challenged everything everyone else in the Holy Empire considered normal.
However, despite that narration might be the only thing that the Audience would’ve cared to pay attention to, neither Meteos nor Ace seemed to be in the mood for a further torrent of technobabble inside their minds, so they ceased gazing at the construction site and turned their focus to each other.
“You come here often?” Ace asked.
“Not really,” Meteos lightly shook his head. “I used my second chance to befriend other kids and wander around the town, occasionally spending our time together visiting places like this one.”
“Is that so… When was the last time you know you’ve been here?”
“Not too long ago, just nearly three months before the summer vacation. Before…”
Ace didn’t need to hear the completion to understand what Meteos meant by that. He understood. Before the dawn of the Third Timeline. Despite the sight around them, the fact that it even happened and the decisions that led to its occurrence continued to pervade their souls like the humid air of this place.
Turning from the railing to face him fully, Ace walked closer until he stepped right beside Meteos.
“What can I say to you?”
“Hum…?” the younger boy looked up and returned Ace’s looming gaze to him.
In the high chance that he knew about his brush with the offer from Pestilence of all beings, Meteos internally grimaced and prepared himself for the tirade that was to come… from at present the one and only god out of all creation that had dared to defy a Horseman of the Apocalypse.
“The deal you’ve struck is not something to take lightly,” he frowned judgmentally at Meteos. Ah, so he knew, he sighed inwardly.
“…Yes.”
However, what surprised him was the stern but level tone that Ace maintained as he continued to address him.
“It’s not my place to judge, but I know that feeling… the push to do something like what you chose to do. What it all meant, and what it did not.”
“…What do you think I’m trying to do?”
“To realize the height of selfish acts you’ve done, and to try to be selfless for once and lift that burden that kept piling up from your conscience. That much I know,” Ace stated, his voice firm but not harsh. “We both did what we thought was right, what we thought would save someone. We both made deals with forces beyond our comprehension, swallowed our pride, and risked everything. But somewhere along the way, the lines became unclear. Did we truly do it for what we stated? Or did we do it for our own satisfaction? …You almost paid the price for dealing with them. Don’t end up like me who stood on top of the peak of selfishness and paid for it.”
“Selfishness, huh…”
The introspective tone in Ace’s words made Meteos shake his head. The older brother’s words had cut through the defensive walls he had unknowingly erected around himself with the reminder that Ace, too, grappled with the consequences of their actions that brought a sense of shared vulnerability.
As the wind started to whip strands of their hair, Meteos raised his gaze to meet Ace’s and swallowed.
“You’re… right… But ever since waking up in this world and getting to live in it… ‘voices’ in my head started telling me to chase a ‘redemption’ I might never deserve. That’s why I…”
“Voices in your head…” Ace muttered, lowering his gaze, “And what’s the final push?”
“It’s just… is that what Death says true? About the reason this world takes this form specifically?”
“And you choose to believe that?”
“I suppose seeing Astarte again with my own eyes made those thoughts forcibly surface and eat away at my mind more than what I’d like to think…”
“I see. For all the confidence you project to those around you, it seems that there are still things that can leave you shaken.”
“…I don’t understand. I’ve never had to feel this way before. Why now?”
To question Death about his choice in remaking the timeline is useless, but there’s the fact that the timeline was remade into a specific scenario by basing on a world envisioned by the one mortal who was closest to the Civilization Annihilation Game, but not a victim of it… yet.
Within the heart of Meteos, son of Roderick, was an original desire that carried him back to this mortal coil after dying once: a world—a prosperous world that can face the Light-Winged Devils on its own, never having to need entities banished from worlds this planet had never heard of. He desired a world based on what he knew back then, and made actions accordingly. However, there’s also the desire for gratification seeing his homeland prevail against its potential adversaries. In a world that doesn’t need any more banishment from other worlds, that sentiment is directed toward entities that have been present since he was born in this world. However, as it turned out, these ‘native’ rivals turned out to be also products of otherworldly banishments. Due to their circumstances, their existence has become problematic, and their incompatible nature with Ars Goetia’s existence has led to either enduring continuous hardships or inflicting difficulties on others.
“You, solely are responsible for this. This is the world that your heart desires.”
The blend of these feelings was used by Death to sculpt the Third Timeline as “the desired world he was born into,” and then, seeing Astarte again triggered a flood of such thoughts within him.
Maybe it was a challenge from Death.
Ace did not immediately respond to Meteos’ wondering, staying rooted in his spot even as the younger boy averted his gaze back to the waters.
“The simple answer to that it’s just you being a human who can feel… But it is I who started all this,” he uttered. “All of this happened in the wake of my decision to—in what I thought back then—to save Astarte.”
Meteos took a deep breath and absorbed those words and how heavy this Star God directed those words against himself. He studied his brother’s face, searching for something before asking him a straightforward question.
“Why bother save a stranger?”
“…There’s no other reason, other than my selfishness, longing for a home… for validation,” Ace sighed and turned to look at the distant southern bank. “And in the process, I ended up using you like a tool…”
“…Is that really the truth? Or is it just something you told yourself in your self-blame?”
“What else is there to it?” Ace’s tone raised slightly, stifling the frustration from his voice. With each passing moment the frustration turned to regret.
“When you took her away from the Game, did you think about anything else at that time?” the younger one asked again.
Ace pondered the question for a moment and admitted. “No… I didn’t think about anything else. Other thoughts only came later after the deed was done and I tried to come to terms with what I’ve done. To make a justification.”
Meteos listened thoughtfully and hunched lower on the railing, hiding his lower face under his folded arms. “Then… there’s something you have that I unknowingly cast away a long time ago. It’s unfair to have the blame placed solely on you, because my choices, driven by this soul that had cast away that ‘something,’ also ended up shaping this world as it is. With you forced to share the consequences from all that.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes. To act in a spur of moment…” Meteos whispered. “You… you lost everything. And everyone. Yet you feel her pain because that is who you are. You’ve opened your heart despite everything and found every reason to keep living… to keep her safe.”
Ace grimaced, his fingers curled reflexively into fists and shook. “What does that make me dangling the world of one’s desires in front of people, then? To end up turning your reincarnation into a means to an end?”
“The truth, then. I cast away my heart. It doesn’t matter how I will spin my desire; the truth remains that all the things I’ve done in my both lives… are fueled out of spite, envy… and hate…!” Meteos’ head snapped up to look at him. “You’re right about what you said long ago… before my rebirth. If only the one who made it through the trial is someone better… then she and you don’t need to suffer this fate. I had no place to speak against my predicament, because I deserved this feeling gnawing at me, knowing that I’m being punished in all but name.”
His deeds after the wars in his past life had initially driven by envy at those newcomers to this world for stealing the glory that should have been theirs. But since his handiworks turned out to be a tad bit too effective, these magic-less newcomers who felt the brunt of its adverse effects on their civilization turned their hate on him and it led to him secretly hating them in return. An undeclared war unfolded between this inventor and those magic-less people, that even though they were the victors in the war of arms, they would suffer setbacks from their incompatible existence in the end, and suffer they did. This inventor made sure of it even as he was nearing the end of his first life.
Maybe that was the true feeling of one Meteos Roguerider and what drove him to do what he did best. Maybe deep down, he was disturbed by the way events unfolded in the first world because it hurt the ego he didn’t realize he possessed deep down. He’s envious, and vain, and arrogant, and selfish… to the point he desired that better he betray the world than have the world betray him, which happened to manifest as the desire to uplift his homeland even at the expense of everything else. Then came the August Star of Heaven, but by then, it was more of a half-hearted introspection at best and a lip service at worst. He had done a disservice due to this single-minded drive. Is this… impure motive to the world that caused Astarte’s suffering to continue unabated, dragging things long enough to force the way to a third timeline?
He’s still being selfish, but he’s now sad about it? Should anyone bring him a crown and declare him the King of Middle Lands, then?
A man whose hatred never really fades away towards those entirely devoid of control over their circumstances is an ill fit to be someone who was to help alleviate the suffering of a loving goddess. Only when the curtain rises for the Third Timeline and the presence of Death forced him to really stop and look at himself in the mirror for who he truly is—
“Would you rather lose everything and everyone, then, in order for you to stop being driven by that hate?” Ace countered harshly.
“Ngh………!”
“Then do not!” Ace took a long and deep breath, continuing by softening his voice to a gentler register “……Astarte had her Hope for this world… one thing that she never sacrifices until the very end… And because of that Hope, you were able to seize your second chance of living.”
“…Is that what this is?” Meteos mumbled, more to himself than to the Star God.
“It’s up to you to decide what to make of those feelings of yours… But please, before it’s too late, reopen your heart. That is Astarte’s wish.”
“Hm.”
Closing his eyes tightly, Meteos thought that never he would imagine that it would take living three timelines for him to ever think of really tempering his drive for living with something else.
“What about you? Would that wish be yours too?”
“I do not know if I deserve to ‘hope’ for something more from someone I wronged, but I had hope.”
Meteos slowly opened his eyes and leveled a stare directly at Ace’s eyes. “If anything… as someone who allowed me a chance to live again, do you not think of yourself as someone deserving of gratitude?”
“After everything, I don’t think I would dare to—”
“Before it’s too late. You will not be judged for having that hope.”
Ace, who had been bracing for a different response, was taken aback. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before being replaced by a subtle softening of his expression.
“Give yourself some credit. I don’t know what takes me this long to do this, but that’s something I would thank you for. Thank you, for saving Astarte, for giving me the chance to live again, for showing me a path that I never thought I would imagine.”
“!!!”
The older brother’s hand twitched ever so slightly the moment Meteos’ lips uttered words that he had never thought he would hear again after a long, long time. That hand wanted to reach out to this young boy’s shoulder, to reciprocate the feeling of tenderness that his words of gratitude had given him, but a tug on his heart held him back. On the other hand, Meteos noticed and silently met Ace’s gaze with understanding eyes. He subtly urged him to follow his heart, assuring him that it was okay.
With a deep breath, Ace finally closed the distance, first placing a tentative brush of fingers against the fabric of his younger brother’s clothing. Then, as if a dam had broken, the hesitant shoulder path gave way to a tight, warm embrace. The cool breeze from the waterfront felt like a gentle whisper, as if carrying away the remnants of unresolved feelings that had burdened their hearts.
“…Meteos?” Ace spoke after a few seconds had passed, still holding the younger boy like a lifeline.
“Mm?”
“Do mortals do this gesture often?”
“Well, this is a form of endearment between familiar individuals present in all cultures that I’ve known of. In some places, it’s commonplace, and in others, you’re advised to avoid doing it publicly. It differs from person to person too.”
“Ah… this must be the effect of Death forcing me into being a mortal to have experienced this feeling. Doing this to you is not overstepping the boundaries, right…?”
Meteos smiled, stifling a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. How does it feel?”
“It feels… warm…”
“Good then. So, what now?”
“Now? I believe…” Ace trailed off. “I would like to do this for a while longer.”
At that moment, the smiling younger boy also wrapped his arms around Ace tightly.
“As you wish.”
❖⟐❖⟐❖
Watching over Ace and Meteos talking like civilized men from the rooftop of a nearby building, Legiel applied illusion magic to deter random strangers from wandering into the waterfront, thus preserving the quiet needed to resolve the lingering tension between the two brothers. Nearing the end of his watch, the First Horseman took out the blank card from earlier and examined it.
A deity and a mortal, alike in their mix of determination and self-centeredness. That ambition, that pride. That refusal to lay down and accept defeat. But hey, at least they aren’t wicked, if embittered… and communication skills that need some polishing.
This card that Legiel held at present is a representation of only one individual, but since Amatsu-Mikaboshi and Meteos Roguerider are so similar, it ended up representing the two of them.
On the label was written: All for One. The happiness of others that will be siphoned as fuel to achieve his own will be immense as foretold by this otherworldly item. And because of this, the Second Timeline storyline of this world will absolutely never have a good ending. Summoning or no summoning, Game or no Game, this world was supposed to receive one of the twelve types of terrible endings.
But it was not to be. Pestilence’s brother Death intervened, and now this.
“The card. It… changed…”
A change in nature is not exclusive to this particular card, but the occurrences are very rare, and most of the time, what is represented by the card ends up changing into something worse, giving Pestilence zero confidence in entrusting these unhinged gods and unhinged creations to have the capacity to change for the better. Which is why… the victims of the Civilization Annihilation Game will continue to pile up until none remain.
As the card glowed faintly in Legiel’s hand, the writings changed from All for One… to All as One.
“Well, this is quite a minor improvement, but an improvement regardless…” Legiel mused in response.
The change had just barely started to take hold, and for it to be complete, the time needed for an individual ranged from a heartbeat to their entire lifetime.
“WE will get them there, by their side. To see they grow and learn,” Adonis, a sharp-dressed young man in a black business suit, gave a remark as he seemingly blinked into existence at the previously empty space to Legiel’s right. “This is what my proposal was for.”
“Hmm… all this from a conversation with Death, huh.”
“There you have it.”
“Heh, heh. A process.”
“And? It is the nature of a thing that matters. Not its form.”
“Well, such a heartwarming scene, that one,” Legiel commented. “But too inefficient. Too-time consuming. And of course… not something the Audience would accept to happen in their show.”
“They are always more than what they think among themselves.”
The inability of the two of them to change is what hinders both Death and Pestilence from reaching conclusions on how to bring happiness to all creation, an endless feud that will only repeat the cycle. Death, as a constant presence looming over every living being in all of creation, is closer to those he watches over than the soul to itself, so he recognized the potential for change in anyone. In contrast, Pestilence views gods and mortals alike as products on an assembly line, unhesitatingly eliminating batches he deems ‘defective.’
“Alright, Eldest Brother. Don’t tell me you’re content with babysitting deities and their mortals until eternity?”
Without any intention to answer Legiel’s inquiry, Adonis gestured to the pair below with his eyes and walked away from the edge of the building.
“Can you do better than them, Brother?”
Adonis’ question before he completely teleported away hung in the air, delivered in a flat tone that held an underlying challenge. Smiling, Legiel pushed himself off the ledge to stand upright, storing the changed card back in his pocket.
“Hm. I see. Eldest Brother, you’re such a man of ambition, aren’t you?”
