The Simulacrum - Chapter 112

“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…

To say that the elevator ride up to the one-hundredth floor of the tower was awkward would be the understatement of the century. Since I disappeared from his home turf, Director Tsephanyah didn’t want to let me out of his sight for even a moment, so he was sticking to my side like a second shadow. The irritating lady followed after us like it was natural, and since he didn’t want to be left behind, Director Mensah also squeezed himself into the cabin. Needless to say, the atmosphere of antipathy the three Celestial bigwigs created, locked in close proximity, was rather chilling, and I wasn’t a fan of being stuck in the middle of them, and neither were the half-dozen bodyguards squeezed into the elevator with us.

There wasn’t much I could do about it at this point, so while the elevator slowly climbed the floors, I let my mind wander for a bit.

From what I could glean from the conversations around me, the island had way more towers than I originally imagined, with them placed in clusters around the main towers. I supposed that the latter were the ones that housed the Mana Wells, and they also served as the seats of the various departments of the Celestial government.

This one was, obviously, Tsephanya’s base of operations, and by the sporadic mention of ‘meetings’ and ‘conference room’, I imagined it was something of a bureaucratic center. It wasn’t that surprising, considering he was the Director of Internal Affairs and all, but it sure was convenient that the main meeting place of the Celestial leadership just happened to be the same place where I was not-kidnapped, and it just happened to have the Second True Archon’s lodgings prepared in advance.

I kid, of course. There was a very good reason why everything seemed to center around this place, namely that Jaakobah gave his report and then was housed here, but a small corner of my mind couldn’t help but question it all the same. Was this whole situation set up just so that I would remain in the vicinity of this particular tower, and if so, why? Was it due to the meddling of the Narrative? Was it because the rest of the Elysium was underdeveloped because it was never supposed to be seen, kind of like how everything was happening on Timaeus while the rest of Critias remained mostly unseen?

“Please, come this way, O Archon!”

I was jolted out of my pondering by Director Mensah, and he urged me to follow after him, much to Tsephanyah’s visible chagrin. Director Savir, on the other hand, remained stoic and had her eyes glued onto me, watching my every word and gesture.

Pointedly ignoring her, I followed after the man with the glasses, and it led to a bit of a scuffle between the three directors about who should lead and who should follow and whatnot. I ignored all of that too, and after a bit of Far Glancing, I headed down the wide hallway on my left. It was just like the rest of the building; plain, simple, without windows, and the only color was provided by a few hanging banners and potted plants.

In the end, Tsephanyah apparently won the privilege to walk beside me and he continued to guide our group.

“The rest of the members of the Directorate should already be present, O Archon. Let us not make them wait.”

Absently nodding, I followed his directions, and before long, we entered a lobby with multiple padded benches and a large double-winged door in the back. As usual, everything was plain and mostly white and light blue, except for the purple carpet leading to the equally purple door. I wondered; were those in that color to match Tsephanyah’s toga, or was there a pre-established color code all of them followed?

That chicken-or-the-egg type question only had a lease on my attention for a short while, as once we got closer, the door opened, revealing a familiar face on the other side.

“Welcome. Everyone’s been waiting for you,” Jaakobah, dressed in a fancy dark-grey dress uniform, stepped aside and gestured for us to get it. By the looks of it, he successfully solidified his newly invented position, despite my disappearing from the room he was guarding, as even though he received a couple of barbed looks from the directors, nobody called him out.

The other side of the threshold was rather dark, and as I stepped inside and saw the people sitting around a huge circular table, with faces hidden by cowls as well as strategically placed lights on the ceiling, it finally clicked with me. This was the place where I saw Jaakobah getting interrogated about what he found on Critias, wasn’t it? So… did that mean that the whole ‘shadowy cabal’ thing wasn’t just a random tropey flourish of the Simulacrum, but the standard operating procedure of the Celestial Directorate?

As if to answer my question, a tall woman by the door began handing out softly glowing pointy black hoods to everyone present, probably enchanted to further the whole ‘face hidden in shadows’ effect. When it came to my turn, I naturally raised a palm and shook my head.

“No. Just, no.” While the poor placeholder was locked up in a loop due to my response, I turned to the stoic agent at my side. “Jaakobah? Turn on the lights.”

“Erm… Archon Polemos, sir? This is the Chamber of Shadows,” Tsephanyah spoke up in a hurry.

“So?”

“The room must always remain in darkness and everyone sitting at the table must wear the Cowl of Obscurity. It’s tradition.”

I leveled a deadpan stare at the blonde man, but he remained steadfast in his objection. Either that, or he couldn’t see my face because it was so dark. One or the other. In the end, I inhaled deeply, and let it out as an annoyed sigh.

“That is one of the dumbest traditions I’ve heard of in my entire life, and shame on you for allowing such absurdly unproductive ritualistic idiocy to get institutionalized. Weren’t you supposed to be a reformer or something?” He didn’t answer right away, so I turned to the bespectacled man smirking with undisguised schadenfreude standing next to us, still wearing the pointy cowl. “And you! Stop grinning and take that eyesore off your head! And Jaakobah? I’m still not seeing the lights turning on.”

“My apologies, but I was informed that the main lights can only be powered in case of emergency. Changing the rule would require a supermajority vote from all directors currently present.”

“Should we put the motion to vote?” Mensah proposed while conspicuously trying to hide his hood behind his back, and it prompted a derisive snort for director Savir.

“The very first motion by the alleged second coming of Polemos is for turning the lights on. I would laugh if it wasn’t such bad comedy.”

“We could leave the door open,” Jakobaah proposed. “It’s not the most elegant solution, but it would let in enough light to—”

“Oh, shut up, all of you!” Unable to take any more, I let out a lung-rattling groan and exclaimed, “If you can’t even get something like this done, I’ll do it myself.”

I wasn’t kidding and started working right away. Glancing up, I could three rows of flat, oval light sources embedded into the ceiling, surrounded by the soft, ethereal glow of magic. They looked just like the ones I’d seen in multiple rooms while exploring this tower during my first visit, so I was decently familiar with them.

While the chamber was spacious, the ceiling wasn’t particularly high, and after my recent experience with other-me and the two stars and all that nonsense, I not only had more intangible extra appendages, two of them, in particular, had grown quite a bit in the process. I had a hard time telling which ones, but my gut told me they were the ‘original’ phantom limbs I had. It didn’t matter though; the important bit was that, thanks to this growth spur, I could reach the closest magical light fixture without having to move an inch.

The next step was obvious. By plunging a phantom limb into one, I quickly analyzed the structure of the enchantment arrays controlling it, and once I found the command channel, I could trace it back to the magical equivalent of a light switch in the system. As expected, it was designed to be operated through Celestial harmonic magic, which led to step three. Or was it step four?

Anyhow, it was covering my tracks, so after I made sure I was poised to metaphorically flip the metaphorical switch, I inhaled and let out a single, sharp whistle, starling everyone around me. However, that was nothing compared to when I simultaneously turned the lights on with my phantom limb, their cool, fluorescent glow revealing a bunch of dumb-founded faces all around me. Even the female director, with all of her pomp and regal bearing, looked rather stumped for a second or five.

“There. Was it really that hard?” I grumbled as glanced at the three head directors and Jaakobah in turn, and then dramatically swept my gaze across the rest of the people in the room. There were about twenty people sitting at the round table, without about thirty-to-thirty-five more loitering behind them. None of them were wearing togas or laurel crowns (apparently, that was reserved for the really important people), opting for a mixture of the futuristic business suits I’d already seen, plus a few dresses and military uniforms here and there. All in all, they all seemed to be at least side-character material, and would’ve looked rather imposing if not for the… well… “For pity’s sake, take those thrice-damned cowls off already!”

After a short beat, they sheepishly removed their headwear one by one, and the hairstyles they sported once again confirmed my first impression that they didn’t have any particularly outstanding main-character material among them. At most, the only person who caught my interest was a tall, muscular man with a blonde head and a full circle beard, wearing a military dress uniform with a bronze breastplate and a cape on top, and for some reason, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’d already seen him somewhere.

Before I could figure out where, Directly Savir let out a forceful harrumph.

“This meeting is already breaking tradition, but maybe I shouldn’t have expected any better. We might as well get started, I suppose.”

She handed her neatly folded cowl back to the placeholder it came from and walked around the table to her reserved seat. The other directors did the same, and after Jaakobah led me to an especially ornate chair, practically a small throne, with some conspicuous extra space left empty on both sides. He waited for me to sit down, after which he excused himself and retreated out of the chamber, leaving me alone with the gaggle of Celestial bigwigs and their scrutinizing gazes. If this happened just a month or two ago, I would’ve been probably at least a little bit on edge, but after sitting in on a couple of Draconic Federation meetings, this kind of pressure wasn’t anything special.

Then, silence. A long, awkward, deafening silence.

Getting impatient, I glanced at Tsephanyah to do something already, and to his credit, it didn’t take him long to get the message and loudly clear his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, I welcome your presence on this joyous occasion.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Acacius,” the frosty female director cut in with a decidedly acerbic tone. “Whether this is a ‘joyous’ occasion is yet to be determined.”

The blonde Celestial sent a rather unflattering glance at his colleague.

“I thought we discussed this already, Director Savir. The young man in front of you is Second Archon Polemos himself. I guarantee it.”

“You guarantee it,” she emphasized, her face locked in a displeased frown.

“Along with Director Anarr, Vice-Director Tira, Director Seachlainn, as well as—”

“All of them your people, I presume,” she cut in, but before she could add anything more, Mensah raised his voice in defence.

“I, for one, am also convinced that he’s Archon Polemos.”

“And what do you base this declaration upon, if I may ask?”

“His wisdom, his bearing, and his wielding of the Spear of Destiny,” the bespectacled director declared with full confidence.

“It’s currently serving as the Archon’s sword,” Tsephanyah pointed out before anyone could object, and the obstinate woman softly clicked her tongue and shook her head in response.

“Once again, a claim that has yet to be verified. While it is known to me that the Second True Archon’s weapon was capable of such a change in appearance, you have yet to show definitive proof that any of this is—”

“Do you people enjoy wasting time?”

My unexpected question made all three of the chief directors pause and turn gazes of various levels of shock at me, yet nobody uttered a word.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I grumbled and placed the short sword onto the table. “Teeny. Spear mode.”

Without further ado, the weapon in front of me elongated, drawing a couple of impressed gasps out of the peanut gallery.

“Now that I have your attention, let’s start with the introductions. There’s no need to announce myself, and I already know you three, so let’s go clockwise.”

For emphasis, I lazily waved a hand at the man on my left, and he froze up like a deer in the headlight. Was he a placeholder after all?

That didn’t last long though, and after gathering his wits, the man loudly declared, “I-I greet you, O, Second True Archon! I’m Director Jeb Jebediah, the Director of Celestial Resources and Development, and she’s my Vice-Director…”

I listened to the Celestial ruling elite politely presenting themselves one by one, but to be honest, I was sure I wouldn’t remember a fifth of them by the time we made a full circle around the table. In fact, there were only two names I paid special attention to.

“… Ammon Jonaraja, the Chief Director of Clandestine Operations. Unfortunately, neither my Vice-Director nor my Deputy Director are in Elysium. Please accept my sincerest apologies.”

I had no idea why the bald, bespectacled man would need or want to apologize for that, but I didn’t really care enough to ask. More important was the fact that this was the first time I’d ever met my boss. As in, Admin’s boss, but let’s not split hairs over it. For someone managing the majority of the Celestial intelligence network, he was a rather unassuming man.

On the other hand…

“… Director of Military Operations, and he’s my deputy, Kane Khurshid, Primus of the Seraphic Safeguard.”

Ah, so that’s why that man looked so familiar! He was Michael’s father. In retrospect, I should’ve realized it sooner; aside from the general atmosphere the two exuded, the family resemblance was uncanny.

On a completely separate note, I had a hard time putting a finger on the terminology conventions of the Celestials. ‘Primus’ was Latin, so it probably referred to some ancient Roman rank, like ‘optio’ did, but ‘archon’ was an ancient Greek office, which gelled with the aesthetics of their military, and the less said about their naming scheme, the better. Was it just hodge-podge world-building, something that the Simulacrum was already guilty of, or was there some method in this madness I just couldn’t see because I wasn’t mad enough yet?

While I was thinking about that, we made a full circle, and everyone got introduced. It turned out I overestimated my own attention span, as beyond the three faction leaders and Mike’s father, I couldn’t recall a single name that was just said. Not even by ‘boss’ was an exception. His name had something to do with ammonia or something…

Rather than getting bogged down in that, I picked up Teeny, made it return to sword-sized, and then put it away, taking my sweet time with every single step.

“Now, you talk,” I said at last, pointing at director Mensah, and the guy was genuinely taken aback.

“A-About what, O Archon?”

I pretended to stifle a groan and closed my eyes, murmured something about dark times, and then after a long beat, I looked him in the eye and prompted him again.

“For a start, tell me why you went so far as to try to abduct me just to bring me here.”

“I… I already explained that was a misunderstanding!” the bespectacled man retorted in near-panic as he suddenly found himself in the crossfire of every gaze in the room. “It was due to the presence of Bel of the Abyss on Critias! After collecting and analyzing all available data, we came to the conclusion that he manipulated everyone on the island for his own ends, and we deemed that it was necessary to extract you before either a conflict would the Magi would break out, or worse, Bel of the Abyss himself would discover your true self! We could not risk you falling into the hands of the enemy!”

“Should we inform the Archon about Bel of the Abyss?” one of the less-important directors proposed. Her name was Babel, or Babylon, or… something starting with the letter B.

Before anyone could launch into an infodump, I leveled a gaze at the woman and said, “You are aware that almost all the information you have on Bel came from me, right?”

“O-Oh… That’s right. Please forgive my—”

“From you? What a curious thing to say,” Director Savir cut in with a carefully maintained air of skepticism on her face.

“The Archon still possesses the memories he had before he was awakened by the Spear of Destiny,” Tsephanyah came to the rescue, but it didn’t ease the stern woman’s expression one iota.

“How convenient that he would retain all those memories.”

“If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to communicate,” I pointed out. “Unless you want to tell me you can speak Old Celestial.”

We locked eyes for a moment, and for once, she was the one who gave up first.

“It was but a simple observation,” she noted, her tone saying she didn’t consider this a loss at all. “I still find it a smidgen too convenient, but your explanation does make sense.”

“Eris! Pay proper respect to the Archon!”

She completely ignored Mensah’s outburst and instead gestured to one of the vice directors idling around her. I was curious about what she was up to, but then my attention was drawn back to the discussion by Tsephanyah raising his voice.

“Since we are all gathered here, and have the Archon among us…” He paused here, looking for Savir’s reaction, but when she didn’t respond, he quickly moved on. “I believe it’s time to discuss Bel of the Abyss. While my access to up-to-date information about the outside world is less readily available than some of my respected fellow directors, I’ve spent a considerable time browsing through our oldest records, and I have discovered a chilling truth. The man known as Bel of the Abyss might be none other than… Bel of the Tenebrous flames himself!”

The way he suddenly lifted his head during the second half of his last sentence made me think that, if we were still in the dark and wearing hoods, it was supposed to add some dramatic flair. In the brightly lit room, it was considerably less interesting, but I was considerate enough to add some ‘dun-dun-dunnn’ music to his performance, if only in my head.

“Do you mean… the Emperor of the Abyss?” a sub-vice-director of sewage treatment or something exclaimed in horror, and another one followed him up with an astonished, “The sworn enemy of Deus?”

“Our Archon doesn’t seem to be surprised,” Director Savir commented with unfailing vitriol, barely even bothering to look up from whatever she was writing at the moment. With an actual feather quill, if I may add.

“It certainly wouldn’t surprise me, but I wouldn’t jump to conclusions either. He could just as easily be using the name to send a message.”

“To us?”

I turned to the random deputy director of something-or-the-other and blandly uttered, “Or the Abyss.”

“You have met with this Bel of the Abyss face to face, haven’t you?” a new voice inquired, from the seat next to Director Savir’s spot, and considering how she was still busy writing something, I imagined he was speaking in her stead. “Could you know recognize your sworn enemy?”

While I was pondering how to answer as standoffishly as possible, Tsephanyah rose to my rescue with an indignant scoff.

“Watch your tone, Teraphon, and remember that this Bel of the Abyss was not only wearing a mask during every single of his appearances, but if he really is the reincarnation of Bel of the Tenebrous Flames, he must have also used the Secret Rites of Rebirth, and must be in possession of a new body, just as Archon Polemos.”

It took some effort not to blink in surprise, but when that seemed to be the end of the rebuke, and no more details were coming through, I had to quickly take things into my own hands, before the discussion would move on.

“It seems some of the people present here are unaware of the details of the Secret Rites of Rebirth,” I uttered with just a sprinkle of thinly veiled disdain and waved at Tsephanyah to continue. “Explain in detail.”

“Ah… Yes, Archon,” the blonde man nodded, and it took him a couple of seconds to collect his thoughts. “It was something that Bel of the Tenebrous flames developed, and it was taken from him by Deus. The user would be reborn in a new body, but the Abyssal betrayed Deus, and twisted the rite, so that no one would know the year and day when He would return to us. The Second True Archon also used the same method to transcend time and stand before us, and now that he returned, Deus’s second coming must not be far behind!”

“That’s right!” another man whose name I couldn’t quite recall doubled down with a zealous grimace. “It’s just as the prophecy foretold!”

“Prophecy?” I echoed him and rubbed my chin. “How trustworthy is this prophecy we’re talking about?”

“It… it was given by you, O Archon,” Director Mensah told me, sounding rather incredulous.

Well, crap. I didn’t see that coming. Still, my poker face remained unbroken, and after a long beat, I raised a single brow.

“Come again?”

“It was handed down over the centuries, along with the rest of your teachings, in the Books of Hymnos,” Tsephanyah explained in an equally uncertain voice. “‘Weep not, ye faithful, for in time, when both mine and His vessel prove perfect, I shall lead the way for His return, and together, we shall lead you in glory and prosperity once more and forever.”

I waited for him to finish what sounded like a quote, and let out a soft grunt.

“Huh. The content checks out, but that doesn’t sound like something I would say,” I noted while adding just a hint of annoyance to my expression. “This is the second time today, and I don’t like how this is developing into a pattern.” Looking over everyone present, I asked, “Who among you is in charge of these books he spoke of?”

“That… would be us,” one of the women standing behind Savir’s group spoke up, and after receiving a glare from Tsephanyah, she meekly added, “O Archon.”

“Good. After we’re finished here, I want you to bring me a copy, as well as any books that had ‘my words’ recorded in them. It seems like I will have to verify every single one of them myself.”

“We can arrange that,” the icy female chief-director answered in her subordinate’s stead and she leveled a gaze that was simultaneously aloof and intrigued. “However, before that, I think we should discuss another matter of grave importance.”

“And that is?” Mensah prompted her, and her lips slowly bent into something that infinitely approached a smile, but never really got there, and absolutely didn’t reach her eyes.

“Since this Bel of the Abyss may pose a threat to our Archon, I think it would be prudent to assign a personal guard detail to him. One that would keep him safe every hour of the day, and would prevent any potential harm of disappearance.”

The way she was putting emphasis on certain words would’ve been annoying on its own, but when combined with my gut reaction to her, it really made my blood boil. After so much exposure, I put her roughly on the same irritation level as Lord Grandpa, which… Well, at the very least, it explained why she put me in a combative mood.

“You want to keep me under surveillance. That’s bold of you.”

“Prudence is a virtue, and you had yet to prove your identity without a shadow of a doubt,” she fired back, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So you say, but do you think that a couple of your guards are going to be able to keep up with me?”

“I assure you, the members of our Seraphic Safeguard we chose for your protection are quite adept at their job.”

“Are they now? I’ll be the judge of that,” I echoed her earlier words back to her, and her non-smile widened by a few microns.

“I’m sure we can provide you with the opportunity. Am I correct, Primus?”

“Yes, director,” Mike’s father answered without missing a beat, and the way he was looking at me said he took personal umbrage to my questioning of the capability of his men. I didn’t necessarily want to antagonize the man, but I had an image to keep up here, so I dusted off my best wolfish grin and let out an amused chuckle.

“Sounds interesting.” At this point, we shared one of those hot-blooded, competitive stares between each other, which was a bit of a pain in the ass to maintain when I didn’t really mean it, but again, I had to keep my character consistent. I waited until he got bored by the act, and the moment he averted his gaze, I glanced over to the two more amicable chief directors. “Do we have anything else to discuss?”

“Of course!” Mensah exclaimed, and the next hour or so turned into a crazy whirlwind of boredom.

First, they started off by discussing which department would provide me with servants, which I vetoed on the spot. After that, the topics rapidly shifted, from serious issues, such as my budget, to utterly ridiculous ones, such as how big of a parade they should throw in my honor and whether or not they should rename Teeny to their new name on the many monuments of Polemos.

Then, if that wasn’t tiring enough, my annoyance-sensor kept drawing my gaze back to Director Savir and whatever the heck she was writing during all this time. Whatever it was, she was paying it way more attention than anything that was discussed in front of her, and as much as it piqued my curiosity, nominally pretending to closely listen to the conversation prevented me from Far Glancing over her shoulder to take a better look.

At last, the meeting slowly but surely ran out of steam. It might’ve had something to do with how long I remained completely silent and only frowned at the people present in mild irritation, and if it did, then good riddance.

“I propose that we take a break and continue the conference in the afternoon,” my technical boss, good ol’ Ammonite proposed with some reservations, wringing his hands from beginning to end, and Tsephanyah rose from his seat in agreement.

“I second the notion. I believe we all need some rest.”

When he said that, he was especially looking at me, probably because he thought I spent the whole night wandering the Elysium and listening to the common folk. To be fair, I did that, but I wasn’t tired by any means.

“I’m also certain the Archon is eager to meet his security for the first time.” Savir’s comment momentarily drew the other two chief directors’ ire, but she completely disregarded them and declared, “As the First Speaker, I approve of Director Tsephanyah’s notion. Let us reconverge after everyone had a chance to discuss this new development.”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement and rose to their feet one by one. As for me, I remained seated and continued to observe the situation. By listening to the various proposals that came up tallying up the supporters and detractors, I’d already got a rough picture of the size of the three factions within the Directorate. Savir held the most cards, with nearly half of the other directors following her lead, while the other two were roughly on the same standing, with maybe Tsephanyah holding just a little more sway.

This initial guesstimate was further reinforced as the directors and their deputies gravitated towards the big fishes, forming three clusters that more-or-less corresponded to my previous predictions. With this, I had also confirmed that both Director Ammunition and Director Whatshisface of the Military Operations were in Savir’s group, which was surprising in a way, since Jaakobah was a CIEL agent. CIEL teams were under the jurisdiction of the Seraphic Safeguard, which meant they should’ve been Orthodox, and yet the stoic healer was definitely a Reformist.

It meant that either there was much more of an overlap between the supporters of the three ideologies than I originally suspected, or that there was some internal intrigue going on. In either case, it just meant I had even more to uncover during my stay here.

Strangely, even though they clustered up, nobody left the conference hall yet, and I only belatedly realized it was most likely because I was still seated. My theory was proven right the moment I stood up, and the directors all headed for the doors like they were escaping the room. Well, most of them, at the very least. Some took a beeline right at me instead.

“Are you still eager to test the mettle of my men, O Archon?” Mike’s father was the first to address me, and the way he stressed the last words reminded me of Savir. He probably picked the tic up from her, I surmised, and speaking of the devil, the woman also followed after him with the same insincere smile from before.

“Of course he is. The legendary Archon wouldn’t back down from a challenge, now would he?”

I leveled a flat stare at her, and after maintaining eye contact for a while, I punctuated it with a drawn-out sigh.

“Is this what Celestial politics have become? Childish bickering and juvenile taunts?”

Her smile withered at once, revealing the usual haughtiness lurking under the surface.

“Immature ploys beget immature responses, I suppose.” Without further explaining what she meant, she reached into the creases of her toga and took out a folded-up piece of paper. “If you wish to have a serious discussion befitting an Archon, I implore you to follow these instructions.”

She didn’t wait for me to take a look, but instead turned on her heel and walked off, closely followed by her entourage. I didn’t even have time to call after her, as she was immediately replaced by Director Mensah and his people.

“Don’t take what she said to heart. She’s set in her ways and can’t see the greater picture.” He let out a grunt, as if agreeing with his own assessment, and before I could get a word in, he pleaded, “After the meeting, I wish to impose upon you in your quarters, O Archon. As much as Eris and Acacius believe that Elysium is safe, the Abyssal threat is ever-looming, and you need to know to full extent of it if you wish to lead our people in our darkest hour!”

He kept looking at me with zealous expectation, so for lack of better options, I nodded, and he let out a delighted noise and rushed out of the room, along with his followers. I thought Tsephanyah would follow the pattern, but when I found him in the crowd, he only gave me a shallow bow and headed outside, opting to talk with Jaakobah instead. This only left me with…

“Shall we proceed to the Halls of Attainment?” Michael’s father proposed, and while I had no idea what that was, since in our previous exchange he was fixated on me testing my ‘guards’, I was sure this was related to that topic as well.

“Lead the way.”

Nodding, the man turned on his heel and headed towards the exit, and I followed closely after him. Once we were back in the lobby, Jaakobah and some other generic placeholder guards followed after us, and I waited until we entered the elevator before I took the piece of paper in my hand and unfolded it. Defying my expectations, it only had four lines written on it.

The first one read, ‘I invite you for a cordial discussion, away from prying eyes. Meet me at nine in the evening, seventy-eighth floor, room twelve.’

That was already weird enough, but then the line after that read, ‘Disregard the previous instructions. Meet me at eight in room nine.’ The way the text was shifting on the paper meant it was written in Celestial Script, which meant it was to test me.

The next line was also written the same way, but while it looked long on paper, full of recursive and self-referential mind-twisters, it boiled down to a simple instruction.

‘If you can read this, bring wine.’

That was confusing enough, but I could still understand that it was also meant to be a test of some sort. Then the last line, more of a paragraph, finally nailed the coffin shut on my poor understanding of this woman’s character.

‘Thy presence fills mine own breast with joy! How I wisheth to shareth thy company and heareth the tales of thy many palmy deeds from thy owneth that from which we speak! Prithee, grace me with thy presence, and togeth’r, alloweth us guideth the rudd’r of our people to bountiful wat’rs and prosperity!’

…

No comment.

“Did you really have to build literally every facility into the towers?”

My question was entirely rhetorical, yet the burly Celestial by my side felt obligated to answer anyway. Not that I really minded; we were heading to the ground floor, just the two of us in the cabin, and the elevator was taking its sweet time, and the bland background music was starting to get on my nerves.

“The Seraphic Safeguard has its own headquarters in Migdál Leukós, but due to the insistence of Internal Affairs, we had no choice but to erect temporal facilities in Migdál Glaukós.”

Kane’s response was straightforward and polite, but there was just a hint of something else underneath it. It wasn’t quite hostility, but something vaguely adjacent, a sense of coldness that told me he didn’t appreciate my presence at all. At first, I thought it was only the after-effects of the unnatural irritation I felt towards the female director that rubbed off on him, but on further interaction, the antipathy seemed to be genuinely coming from him. Or, at the very least, that was my hunch; admittedly, his wide, stern face was hard to read. Did Mike inherit his looks from his mother’s side, I wondered?

Anyhow, the silence in the wake of his words was getting heavy, so I uttered, “That didn’t answer my question.”

Even as I said that, I was trying to interpret his words. Jaakobah already used the word ‘migdál’ before, so figured the term referred to the spiral tower. If so, ‘leukós’ and ‘glaukós’ were most likely the designations of the individual buildings. Just how many of them were out there, I wondered?

“The twelve True Migdáls were constructed as the seats of the Seraphs, so it is a given that they contain all the necessary facilities and amenities required.”

Oh. That was a quick answer to my unstated question, wasn’t it?

“Twelve? Were they built over the Mana Wells?”

“That’s correct.”

I nodded along and drew yet another parallel with the Abyss. There were twelve Abyssal Houses, each responsible for a Mana Well, and there were apparently twelve of those in the Elysium as well, each corresponding with a spire made for the Seraphim.

“What’s a ‘Seraph’?”

The question slipped out without much thinking, and for the first time, Kane gave me a sideways glance that was equal parts incredulous and critical.

“Seraphim are the bearers of the purest Celestial bloodlines, and the inheritors of our civilization and culture.” Ignoring both his expression and his tone, I gestured for him to continue his explanation, and he did so, even if through gritted teeth. “Chief Director Savir, as well as Mensah and Tsephanyah, are all prestigious Seraphim.”

“Does it have something to do with the number of wings then?” I asked the first, obvious, question that came to mind, and Mike’s father looked at me as if I asked if the pope was Christian.

“Of course. How could you not know of this?”

“How could I?” I asked back and glared at the man, and even though it was only part of my ‘cold and aloof’ persona, he reeled back like I just hit him on the nose. I didn’t want to outright antagonize him, so I quickly softened my expression and let out a forlorn sigh. “How many such ‘Seraphs’ are alive today?”

“One hundred and eighty-seven,” he responded in a level voice.

“What about the rest?”

“The majority are Malakim, with Cherubim, like myself, being a minority.”

That non-explanation earned the man another sideways glance, but we were too close to the ground floor to ask for a proper explanation, so I opted to just sigh, shook my head, and utter, “These truly are dark times.”

He didn’t have a response to that, or even if he did, he kept it to himself as the elevator cabin came to a soft halt and the doors opened, revealing a small contingent of guards lined up in two rows.

“Are these your men?”

Kane shook his head at my question.

“No, just the regiment protecting Migdál Glaukós itself. The squad I tasked with your protection should be on standby in the training halls.”

“In that case, lead the way.”

I didn’t need to say it twice, and as Kane stepped forth, the small guard contingent formed a loose defensive circle around the two of us. It kind of reminded me of the way the Dracis bodyguards were acting whenever my in-laws were around. Maybe they were using the same manual?

Still pondering about useless things like that, we quickly made it to our destination. Due to the shape of the spire, the ground floor was the largest of all the storeys, so I expected that we would have to walk for a while, yet we reached the so-called ‘training hall’ in just a few short minutes.

The sight that welcomed me was rather peculiar. The structure of the area was nothing out of the ordinary. Plain white walls, minimal ornamentations, same old, same old. What really surprised me were the under-construction parts. By the looks of it, this area used to be multiple adjacent rooms in the recent past, and they were being remodelled into one large hall literally in front of my aching eyes nearly blinded by all the swirling magical lights in the air.

Construction workers, by a loose definition of the word, dressed in bright yellow overalls and wearing round helmets, were running all around the place with instruments that looked like large oboes, furiously playing music at the walls slowly retreating into the floor and ceiling. It kind of reminded me of watching sped-up footage of a plant growing from a seed, except played in reverse.

Behind them, other workers were using large zithers to coax new walls and arches into existence, growing strings and then weaving them into structures that felt organic, rather than cold mortar and stone. Then, once they were done, yet other workers showed up with a mixture of drums and other percussion instruments, smoothing out the surfaces and giving them their final contours. There was even a guy who was carrying a brass tool the size of a tuba, except with multiple bells, and was in charge of smoothing out the ceiling with it.

Strangest of all, despite the presence of a small orchestra, the room was strangely quiet, to the point I could clearly hear the boots of the Celestial guards stomping the ground as they formed a line in the middle of the spacious chamber.

“At ease.”

Despite Kane’s orders, the men and women in front of me remained decidedly uneasy as they watched the two of us (plus a dozen guards) walking over, ignoring the construction workers around us and making a beeline for them right away.

On closer inspection, they were all relatively young Celestials, in their late twenties to early thirties at most, and wore a mixture of outfits still in line with the vaguely Ancient Greek theme of their military- and service uniforms. One of them wore heavy brass armour that covered most of his body, and his face could barely be seen behind the front plate of his helmet, while the man right next to him wore no armour at all, opting for sandals, shorts, and an equally short-sleeved white tunic instead.

To my surprise, I actually recognized one of them, and it was precisely because of her outfit; she was the woman from Jaakobah’s squad, and the only one with an ‘armour’ that actively showed off her midriff. She wasn’t wearing any headgear at the moment, and while she was generally attractive, she had a simple bowl cut without anything extra, meaning she probably wasn’t particularly important, I if not for her outfit, I would’ve probably never even noticed her.

But speaking of the outfits, were these their ‘natural’ combat gear? It wasn’t just an idle question; Celestials were unique in the sense that they could bring out their wings without fully transforming and engaging their Barrier, which was well known to shred normal clothes, so these outfits could be just their fashion choice, yet the faint glow surrounding them told me otherwise.

I already knew that, unlike the case of the Draconians, whose physical changes were due to their physiology, the transformed outfits of Celestials and Abyssals alike were individualized and heavily dependent on their personality, outlooks, and ability to visualize their appearance. Once set, it wasn’t easy to change though, and while repeated practice (at my subtle insistence) allowed Snowy to shift her Abyssal form into something slightly more sensible than just a dozen leather straps stuck to her body with magical two-sided tape, the end-result still looked more fitting for a BDSM dungeon than the battlefield. As for Angie, the less said about her bedsheet by any other name, the better.

But back to the point: considering these were elite Celestial soldiers we were talking about here, I expected a bit more standardization, yet their outfits were all over the place.

“You have been individually selected by the Board of Directors from across all branches of the Celestial Military,” Kane broke into a speech, inadvertently answering my unspoken question in the process. “You are the best of the best, chosen to serve, protect, and if necessary, lay your lives down in service of Archon Polemos.”

At this point, he gestured towards me in a way that could be interpreted as rather rude, but I didn’t pay him any heed and concentrated on the people in front of me instead. If I understood that right, they looked like such a hodgepodge of characters because they were hand-picked from all the various service branches. I didn’t even need to ask why; it was not just to ‘look after me’, but to keep each other in check as well.

“As you must all be well aware, the Second True Archon had recently returned to our side, and as such, your role carries both enormous esteem and untold weight. As such, Archon Polemos deemed it important to personally witness your prowess, and prove yourselves to him.”

While Kane was talking, the construction workers all stopped their tasks and moved to the side on their own, leaving things half-finished. I wasn’t entirely sure whether leaving things half-finished like that was safe, but I never got the chance to raise my concerns.

“Sir?”

The fully-armoured man spoke up, drawing my attention back to him.

“Yes, Optio Greer?”

“Sir. How are we meant to prove ourselves to the Second True Archon, sir?”

“That is a good question. Let us hear what he has for you in mind.”

Mike’s father passed the ball into my court, and based on the startled faces and surprised gasps, some of them apparently just realized who I was supposed to be.

“We greet Archon Polemos!” Taking advantage of the others’ inertia, the woman with the bowl cut used the fact that she already knew me, in a sense, to step forth. “Please, command us!”

The rest of the gaggle of eclectic guards were quick on the uptake, and they followed suit one after the other, all of them holding an arm with a clenched fist horizontally in front of their chests and declaring their intent to follow me. Their salute vaguely reminded me of the way the Fauns used to greet me, but I didn’t have time to dally around, as Kane soon retreated out of the conversation by literally taking a couple of steps back.

Feeling ever-so-slightly irked by the manner he dumped this situation on me, I rewarded him with a frown that implicitly said ‘I’ll remember this’, and then I turned back to the men and woman in front of me. Speaking of which, she was the only female officer on the squad, so did that make her a token teammate? I think it was called the Smurfette Effect, or something.

Once again aware that I missed not having Judy about to ask if I remembered right, I let out a soft groan and waved at the group to be at ease.

“Stop prostrating yourselves. I’m your Archon, not your god.” That strategically placed comment caused a bit of a commotion, and I only continued after it died down. “I’m not going to mince my words, nor am I going to repeat myself, so listen closely. You are ordered to be my guards, implying that there are elements within this realm that could pose a threat to me. I’m rather doubtful of that, but even if there are such threats aiming at my life, I wonder just how much use you could even be in such scenarios.”

“Sir!” The armoured Celestial called out, and when he remained silent afterward, I belatedly realized he was asking for permission to speak. The moment I nodded, he continued with, “Sir, you must not underestimate the danger Bel of the Abyss and the other Abyssals could pose to you, once the news of your glorious return spread.”

Slightly narrowing my eyes, I simply uttered, “Unorthodox, right?”

“Sir, yes sir!” the man responded with a puffed-up chest.

“Is there a problem with that?” Kane asked from the back, and after some consideration, I shook my head.

“No, I was just curious. As for your comment, I believe you’re the ones who underestimate Bel of the Abyss.” I paused here, for nothing else but dramatic effect, and then solemnly declared, “Unlike you, I had met the man in person. If he were to show up here, right now, the only person in the room capable of surviving, the encounter, let alone fending him off, is me. And yes, that includes you too, Primus Kane.”

“With all due respect,” another guard, a relatively short but muscular man in a skin-tight white wetsuit right out of a superhero comic cut in with a displeased expression. “We are all professionals here. Between the twelve of us, a Lord of the Abyss should pose little danger.”

“Is that so?” I locked eyes with the guy, and he remained steadfast in his denial, but I didn’t mind, as he just gave me the perfect opportunity to put one of my plans into action. I casually reached for Teeny with my left hand and raised it in front of me, roughly at chest level. Then, before anyone could react, I forced my still throbbing fingers on my right to make three snaps. On the third, I Phased right behind the man, and just by readjusting the position of the sword in my hand, I could place it right against his Adam’s apple. I waited until everyone in the room realized what just happened, and then asked, in a soft yet at the same time icy voice, “Tell me, how are you going to defend against something like this?”

The man in the wetsuit remained stock still, petrified by the sudden development. In fact, he was so stiff that things were getting awkward, right until Mike’s father finally regained his wits and exclaimed, “You… I mean, Lord Archon! How… How did you…?”

Well, fine. Saying ‘regained his wits’ might’ve been an overstatement, but let’s not sweat the small details. Instead, I pulled the blade away from the neck of the hapless soldier, stuck it back into the hoop on the side of my belt, and then walked around the still-startled group to stand in front of them again.

“A simple trick using illusions and simple spatial substitution, and you’re already this rattled…” My words were harsh, but nobody could argue back, even though the way the bearded military leader in the back’s mouth kept opening and closing like he was pretending to be a carp out of water. “It was but a crude approximation of Bel’s ability. The real deal is much, much more terrifying. Are you still certain you have what it takes to face off against a foe like that?”

The group in front of me remained silent, though I couldn’t help but notice that my scheme wasn’t completely successful. Since these guys’ unspoken purpose was to keep me under surveillance, I planned to get rid of them as soon as possible, preferably before they even entered service, so to speak. The simplest way to do this was by demonstrating that I didn’t need their help, that they wouldn’t be able to help, and on top of that, I also used the opportunity to re-contextualize my Phasing ability yet again, so that I could use it in a pinch.

All things considered, this should’ve been a slam dunk, yet most of the eyes staring at me weren’t discouraged. If anything, they looked downright respectful.

“Lord Archon? Is… this an ability that many possessed in your time?” Mike’s father inquired as he sidled back to my side, sounding borderline reverent.

“It’s not that complicated, so there should’ve been a number of individuals who could perform the same feat,” I answered off-handedly and was just about to return to the eclectic honour guard squad in front of me, but Kane pushed on.

“So the Celestials of old were capable of even more outstanding feats?”

“Of course,” I answered, still on autopilot, and was about to rub the fact into the wounded pride of the people at the front, if not for the bearded man’s insistent interruptions.

“What about Bel’s power?”

“The ability to command time itself is a power that was as troublesome to deal with back then as it is today, but unlike you, I have my ways to counteract it,” I stressed, and quickly addressed the rest before he could speak up again. “Hence, while I do not doubt your eagerness to serve me, I sincerely doubt your presence or absence would make a difference were I to encounter Bel of the Abyss once again.”

“That’s not true, sir!” the fully armoured man, whose name I didn’t know but should’ve really asked for ages ago, exclaimed in a hurry. “We may still provide support on the battlefield!”

“Yes,” midriff-woman followed him up with clenched fists. “We could secure the area and make sure your fight won’t be interrupted.”

“We can also help prevent collateral damage!” short-tunic-man added with altogether way too much enthusiasm, and armour-man nodded like it was a profound statement.

“That’s also true. We might not be able to face foes only you can fight, Sir Archon, but we can still help you, sir!”

Now it was my turn to flinch as a torrent of enthusiasm washed over me from nowhere, and I could only matter an uncertain “Can you?” in response.

“Sir, yes, sir!” armour-man exclaimed and beat his own breast plate with a glowed fist, clearing a dull sound as it impacted on his own Barrier. “Even if I have to stake my life to do so!”

“So do I!” the previously silent wetsuit-man also joined him, along with midriff-woman, hoplite-guy, half-tuxedo-half-greaves man, and… and at this rate, I’d seriously have to learn all of their names, wouldn’t I? That just wouldn’t do.

“Very well. I acknowledge your spirit,” I spoke as I crossed my arms and directed a challenging glare at the group. “However, spirit is meaningless without the ability to back it up. Show me what you’re capable of, and I will judge you, one by one.”

I thought that would make them think twice, but instead, it just ignited their fighting spirit even further. Oh well. This whole conversation went in a different direction than expected, but I was still half-successful in introducing my newest cover to my Phasing ability, and while they were strangely eager to enter my service, I figured roughing them up a bit could help to cool them down a notch. I needed to let off some steam anyway, and what harm could be in combining pleasure with business, right?