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Chapter Text

/Time: After the first night camping at the end of Chapter 1/

/Gura Flava Lowlands, Aetia Region/



A lifetime of fighting Agnus would not remove suspicion, doubt, and wariness; Lanz's musings circled around and around this fact (always bound to the fixed point of Joran's death) as he and Sena took the last watch.

Though their current circumstances — Ouroboros; Moebius; Vandham's strange message and his untimely passing; their new destination at Swordmarch, if it even existed; the sudden betrayal by Colonies 9 and Gamma — were a balm on that emotional rash, it still itched something fierce. It was why, even after everything that had happened, both sides had one member take watch overnight.

(He could imagine Noah lightly chiding him about how they shouldn't be thinking of each other as 'sides', but for sparks' sake, he could only do so much!)

Noah and the catgirl Mio had been first; Eunie and the four-eyes Taion had been next; finally, he and the girl with fiery hair (which didn't even burn, how did that even work?) took last watch.

Most of it had been passed in dead silence, as they tinkered with their respective weapons and quietly patrolled the grounds otherwise. The tension was right awful, with a certain distance that was...hard to break, for how real it all was.

Finally, as the sun began to peek over the walls of the valley, a timid voice broke the silence. "So...that was pretty awesome, huh?"

"Say what?" asked Lanz, looking over towards the tiny girl.

"What Mimi and...Noah, right? What those two did. That Ouroboros thing," she remarked with a surprising amount of earnestness. (Then again, she had always spoken in an earnest fashion, he retroactively realized.)

"...yeah, I suppose it was," he tentatively agreed. "It was all so crazy that there wasn't any time to really think about it."

Sena nodded, her throat humming as though she had words to say that couldn't quite make it out: akin to a rough-sounding Levnis that needed maintenance. After several more seconds of silence, she added, "I wonder what Mimi felt like..."

"You can ask her when she wakes up, can't you?" he impulsively responded.

"Ah. Right. I guess so..."

"...at least it's a pretty powerful trump card," he remarked. Talking about their current circumstances was safe, he supposed; the problems they now shared were real enough that he could pretend to ignore the old hurts that Agnus had caused.

"Yeah, it is," agreed Sena, her feet lightly tapping against the ground with impatient energy. Looking towards the brightening sky, she said, "So...I normally do morning workouts around this time."

"...and?" he questioned.

"Well...Eunie's her name, right? She said something about 'muscle-buddies'." She said the term with such trepidation, as though it were a taboo. "So...do you work out, too?"

"...yeah," he admitted. "Standard drills are fine, but I gotta go the extra mile." (Just being 'standard' hadn't been good enough to save Joran. Being better than the standard hadn't been good enough for Mwamba, either. You'll never be good enough.) "If missions aren't in the way, I usually start around first light."

Sena nodded. "So...I guess I'll start, then?"

Lanz wondered. Pondered. At last, he made a decision. "Guess I might as well. Shouldn't let you out of sight, I suppose. You probably shouldn't let me out of sight either." It was only natural, for Kevesi and Agnians to be suspicious of each other; better to be in one spot where they could keep an eye out.

Sena nodded with surprising eagerness, with a level of relief that downright confused him.

Thus did they walk to the outskirts of their camp, feet crunching through crimson grass. First came stretches; then a hundred push-ups; then a hundred squats; then a hundred Hox crunches.

"...say, Lanz?"

"What is it?" His answer was quick, and surprisingly easy, he thought. Then again, Sena had done nothing but keep up a steady pace with him (because for all he cared for those lunks, Queen's wings Noah and Eunie didn't quite share his enthusiasm for calisthenics. It was surprising enough to admit that inwardly). She'd earned at least that much.

"How do you think they combined?"

"You mean Noah and Mio?"

"Yeah."

As he calmly limbered up, he thought back to the chaos of that fight, and everything that had come from it. "Well...there was a lot of shoutin' involved. Think there might be something to it."

"...do you...wanna practice?" she asked. "I'd like to see if I can pull it off, like Mimi could."

Lanz looked at Sena. Really looked at her, and found himself...not entirely opposed to the idea. With a casual shrug, he answered, "Sure, I guess there's no harm in it. It'll give us an edge if we can do it like those two."

xx

It didn't even take ten minutes of their exaggerated movements and audible outbursts before Taion burst their proverbial bubble.

(All told, if this what having a 'muscle-buddy' was like, then he could get used to it.)

Chapter Text

/Time: After the beginning of Chapter 2, when the party departs from their camp site/

/Millick Meadows, Aetia Region/



"Hey, take a look at that sparkin' bruiser; he's massive!"

For how crudely Lanz had put it. Taion couldn't help but agree.

"Whoa," muttered Eunie, her head wings twitching briefly as she leaned over the edge of the ridge to get a closer look. (He wondered if that signalled possible shifts in mood for Kevesi with head wings; truth be told, he was somewhat miffed that he couldn't recall much Agnian literature on the topic.) "Queen's heels that's a snuffing big Gogol."

"It's unusual for Gogols to be found in the Aetia Region at all, much less one of that size," dryly remarked Noah.

"Indeed," agreed Taion, finding himself somewhat appreciative of how at least one of their new Kevesi 'compatriots' had an analytical disposition. "They're most commonly found in the Maktha Wildwood...although, Agnus Castle has put out warnings regarding monsters of unusual size on certain islands within Erythia Sea." (He'd mentally caught himself, making sure to preface 'Castle' with 'Agnus'; after all, their party consisted of people whose loyalty was split. The Castle that Noah, Lanz, and Eunie were loyal to...was not his.)

(Even if you're not entirely sure if that loyalty should remain, in light of how things have changed. You have to keep open to new possibilities, now.)

"Wow, you're a regular bestiary, Taion!" exclaimed Sena with a pump of her fists.

Taion impulsively adjusted his glasses. "Well, I did work with our Colony's Survey Branch. It's only natural." That he'd lived and fought many terms adjacent to the Maktha Wildwood, courtesy of his tenure at Colony Lambda, went without saying. (After all, it wasn't truly relevant to their current circumstances.)

An unfeminine snort burst his proverbial bubble. "Snooty fellow, ain't ya?" brusquely remarked Eunie. "If that head of yours gets any bigger, your glasses won't fit anymore."

Patience Taion, don't sic your Mondo on your...teammate. Let your professionalism condemn her by proxy. With a brief huff, he ignored the comment. "I recommend we stay far away," he said, watching as the crimson beast turned around to walk back up the river, as though maintaining a patrol. "Gogols can be deceptively swift in spite of their great size." (The brief grunt in the back of Eunie's throat — seemingly annoyed that she hadn't gotten a rise out of him — elicited a small twinge of mental satisfaction.)

"Good idea," agreed Mio, moving further downward along the grassy slope. That was the signal for their party of eight to continue on...but the silence wouldn't stay for long, alas.

"Say, you guys got any big monsters of your own around your Colony?" asked Lanz. "Our old Commander had warnings posted to salvagers about working in Svinne Cavity; always warned 'em to be on the lookout for a massive Crustip named Zelnika." To emphasize his words, the large man made pincer motions with his hands. "'It'll snap you up just like that with its well-plated claws,' he'd say!"

Sena ooh'd at the description. "Oh, there's actually an enormous Vollgull that we could see flying over Coolley Lake, even from Colony Gamma! Commander Teach would tell us to never draw the attention of Perilwing Ryuho; it could snap up a whole Levnis in its talons!"

Mio's ears actually flattened with a dread that could be called primal. "Please don't remind me..."

"Ah! Sorry Mimi-"

As the comparison of enormous monsters and unique beasts continued to fill the air amongst them, Eunie annoyingly got up in his space once more. "So, got any space in that noggin for those baddies they're talking about?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," remarked Taion.

"And? You got any useful tips?" she asked.

"I actually do."

"Yeah...?" A few seconds of silence. "Come on, don't leave me hangin', here!"

"Simple: stay far away. There's little to be gained in fighting a giant beast that's not threatening your Colony." After all, smaller monsters were more easily killed, and could fill up the Flame Clock more safely...not that they had to worry about that sort of thing, anymore.

Eunie narrowed her eyes. "Well some snuffin' good you are, Captain Obvious."

A swift glance over the shoulder from Noah was enough to stifle their argument before it could go any further. (The force behind the swordsman's gentle eyes could be surprisingly fierce; perhaps Noah could weaponize it...?)

"Meh meh, baddies incoming!" yelled Riku.

Then they had a bunch of bellicose Brogs to tend to, and there was no more time for arguing.

xx



Hours later — after fighting their way through the aggressive wildlife of Millick Meadows, clearing away the beasts around an old Ferronis Hulk, and refueling the spent ether cylinder to reboot the derelict device — the topic of giant monsters once more came up, courtesy of the Nopon Caravan, of all people.

"Shillshill see Gogol you speak of. Beastie has name of Jingoistic Gigantus!" With a strangely haughty huff, she added, "Not impressed."

"...um, really?" said Taion with a blink. "It's certainly large enough to be a threat to any Nopon, I would imagine."

The pink fuzzball harrumphed. "Threat is not point! It about presence, expectation, and reputation! Gigantus is nothing compared to Immovable Gonzalez, for example."

"...I...see." Strangely, he was glad that Mio and Noah were practicing on their flutes, whilst Lanz and Sena were distracted with weapon maintenance, because a conversation this confusing didn't need to spread.

"That being said, if you ever come across red Gogol by name of Territorial Rotbart, do spread the word, yes-yes? Would make members of Caravan very happy."

"...why?"

"Insider knowledge, friends would not understand." And with that, Shillshill waddled away towards her fellow traderpon.

Eunie, eating from a bowl of Manana's soup, idly remarked, "So, what was that all about?"

"...I'm not entirely sure, to be honest," he couldn't help but admit. (Life had become so troublesome over the past few days.) "...I think I'll take you up on your advice."

Eunie's blink of confusion was surprisingly endearing. "Eh, wot? When did I give you advice?"

"About the 'baddies'," he said with emphasis. "I have the strangest feeling we won't be able to play it safe forever. I should probably start thinking of some general tactics to deploy if we find ourselves up against any unique monsters."

"...well, duh," said Eunie, quickly masking her surprise with a smug tone. "We're a spark short of an empty Flame Clock, with all the trouble we've gotten into already; best to be prepared for the worst. It's only 'logical', after all."

"...are you mocking me?" he grumbled.

"No way; I swear by the Queen's pearly white feathers," she said with a sincere tone that did not match the smirk on her face.

(...maybe you'd be better off trying to fight Jingoistic Gigantus by yourself than trying to figure her out...)

xx

The very next day, their group ended up stumbling into both Indiscreet Gombaba and Migratory Circe within minutes of each other.

Taion pointedly did not acknowledge Eunie's knowing grin.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: During Chapter 2, after the first class change/

/Millick Ravine Way, Aetia Region/

"...it's strange, how it works."

Noah looked at Mio with a curious eye; she was fiddling with the sleeves of his red jacket...well, it was difficult to call it 'his', since he had possessed it for mere days at this point (if even that; it was only the second day since they had become Ouroboros, since their lives had changed). "How what works?"

"This whole...'class change' ability, of ours. It just involves...switching some of our clothes." The young woman's cat ears twitched in a manner evoking confusion and curiosity. "It's useful, but..."

"The whole mechanics behind it are unusual," admitted Noah, guessing at what was bothering her. (Come to think of it, why had they taken to all of the changes as well as they had? The difficulties thus far had been due to the enmity between their nations, and personality clashes more than anything...but the nature of Ouroboros? Of Moebius? Of these new abilities? Why were they adapting so readily?)

(Why are you questioning it?)

(Why aren't you questioning it more?)

Mio's nod broke him out of his introspection. "I mean...it's like they've become a part of our own Blades," she observed, quietly holding his crimson sword aloft. "But you've had this for much longer than the red jacket."

"Ever since my first term," he admitted, looking down at the hilt of her sword: it was seamless in a way his own wasn't. The handle was comprised of the same material as the rest of the Blade, indicating it was truly a sword and not just a sheath for something deadlier. (Lucky Seven, it seemed, would stay with him...but why? Why did Riku's powerful gift remain, when the sheath and the crimson jacket didn't?)

"So...how was it determined what stays and what goes when we switch classes?" asked Mio. "Our weapons, I could understand...but why just a single garment? Why not our entire outfit?"

Noah glanced over towards the others, who were currently on point during their trek towards Eagus Wilderness...

xxxx

Eunie nearly tripped on the end of Taion's orange scarf. "Bonkers, man; why the spark did you choose this orange eyesore?!"

Taion huffed, watching quietly as the Mondo responded to Eunie's will and kept her from falling over. (How exactly did control of their Blades transfer so seamlessly? The Mondo were not easy to use.) "I don't have to justify my wardrobe to you. It's not as though you're being forced to wear it."

The winged girl grumbled, wrapping the scarf a couple more times around her neck to shorten its length. "I ain't gonna let your bad taste in fashion defeat me, you'll see."

"Queen preserve me," he muttered under his breath.

xx

"Say Sena, how heavy do you think these weapons actually are?" asked Lanz.

Sena — distracted by the furry collar on the edge of the long jacket she wore — blinked with surprise. "Eh?"

"I mean, between my Shieldblade and your hammer, here," he asked, feeling the hum of his Power Frame as it subtly invigorated his muscles. "Which do you think is heavier?"

Sena frowned, humming thoughtfully. "Oh. Well...does it matter?"

"...not really, I guess."

"...but to answer your question, I think your Shieldblade is heavier."

"Really? This chonker's pretty hefty." To emphasize his point, he did a couple of bicep curls.

"Yeah, but it's a lot easier to compensate for the momentum!" Summoning Lanz's Blade, she made a show of holding it above her head. "But this? The weight distribution on this thing is a lot more unwieldy; it's like holding a big slab of metal."

"Guess that's a fair enough point..."

xxxx

...and wondered if the same thoughts were on their minds. "I'm not sure why," admitted Noah.

"And they even change sizes to accommodate our bodies as well," admitted Mio, looking pointedly at how much bigger her jacket was on his frame. "No offense, but it was a lot slimmer when I was wearing it."

"Ah. Sorry."

Mio shook her head, lightly smiling. "It's not something we can really control for...it's just weird, is all. How seamless it all is. But why is it? I'm...sure it has something to do with our powers as Ouroboros. But how do they work, and why do they work the way they do?"

Noah was privately grateful that Mio was plagued by the same questions he had; it was a side she hadn't quite shown the others, as far as he could recall. (But why was that? She seemed rather composed most of the time...in spite of the pain her memories from the Interlink hinted at. Did it go even deeper?) "Maybe if we make it to Vandham's 'City'...we'll find the answers we're looking for."

"Even for silly questions like why our clothes change?" she asked with a small smile.

Noah returned it, hoping he sounded sincere. "At this point, I don't think any question would be too silly for us."

xxxx

/Time: After the beginning of Chapter 3, upon the completion of Ethel's Hero Quest/

Many days later, after the tumultuous events of the conflict with Colony 4, Ethel, and Consul K...the discussion about class changes came roaring back unexpectedly.

xx

En route to Ribbi Flats, as Noah utilized Ethel's class for the first time, his jacket shifted to her infamous silver coat.

Eunie, now wearing Lanz's own heavy coat, narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "Hey Noah, you feeling a bit tight up there?"

Noah blinked, looking down at his new outfit with confusion. "Um...not particularly? It's just slim against the chest, I suppose?"

Lanz — looking rather comfy in Eunie's black and green jacket — leaned down, looking thoughtfully at Noah's upper torso. "Now that Eunie's pointed it out, it does seem rather snug. You sure it's not suffocating you?"

Taion peered closer, adjusting his glasses; by this point, he himself had temporarily adopted Noah's class as his own. "I think it just comes down to proper fit; given its design, it would emphasize the chest of whoever wore it." To make his point, he brushed at the crimson fabric adorning his upper body. "There's also difference in materials to consider as well..."

Sena, cheerfully cozy in Mio's puffy jacket, leaned in as well. "It does sure emphasize muscle definition, though; did you sneak in some workouts when Lanz and I weren't looking?"

Noah — feeling oddly perturbed by how four of his comrades were staring intently at his chest (and so closely as well; why were they so close?) — looked over their heads at Mio, silently pleading for her assistance.

The catgirl, clad in Sena's collared vest, simply tilted her head, as one detached from the shenanigans on display. "Ethel isn't even a part of Ouroboros, yet we can use her abilities as well..." she muttered to herself.

That...was a fair enough point, inwardly admitted Noah, even as he used the serendipitous opportunity of an incoming band of wild Hoxes to stop everyone from looking at his pectorals. Ethel's Blade is mine to wield, he thought, swinging her dual rapiers as though they had always been his. And her silver coat is a part of it...but why? How do these 'classes' function? Why do they even function at all?

(Such a question could only be answered by something with the ability to manipulate the fabric of the world itself.)

(Does Ouroboros truly possess such power...?)

xxxx

It would be a very long time until Noah and Mio realized just how deeply Ouroboros was interwoven with the fabric of the world they lived in.

In another place, and another time, words spoken long ago echoed through the ether, heard by none, yet witnessed by an everlasting memory: "Master the principle of life, and all things will bow to you..."

In this world, the principle of life...was Origin itself.

The Ouroboros Stone: forged from pieces of Origin, the otherworldly engine that Moebius had hijacked to create Aionios...was it any surprise, that the power granted by the Stone had allowed them to do something as simple as switch clothes and weapons?

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: During Chapter 3, right before encountering Valdi/

/Elsie's Spout, Ribbi Flats, Fornis Region/

Sometimes, the state of technological development in Aionios confused Taion something fierce.

"Probably shouldn't be climbing up this one, huh...?" murmured Sena with a frown, gazing up at the harrowing cliffside.

"But, this is the route Ethel told us to take, no question," he mused aloud. It was almost as if things were being kept in a stasis...because surely a solution to the problem of Bunnit's Bane would have been devised by now.

"Well, I guess that means...we'll just, uh...have to keep going then," relented Mio with a defeated sigh.

The violet vines, stretching up the cliffside in almost bizarrely perfect lines, would have been simple enough to climb...

(In the background, Lanz asked, "Maybe we can Interlink and just jump all the way up there? We'd be done in a flash!")

...but alas, Bunnit's Bane was a surprisingly toxic flora, with leaves that secreted a caustic substance which could burn skin and even dissolve most types of clothing with enough contact.

("I'd rather not use our Interlink powers unless we're in battle," cautioned Noah. "We still don't quite understand them in full...better to save it for when we truly need it.")

It was a wonder that no one had figured out a method of countering it, given that it seemed to be common enough in both Keves and Agnus. (Just one look had been enough for their group to write off this particular cliffside as a means of ascension. What other commonalities did their warring nations share? You've already been puzzling over why we have a common language and a common currency...)

(Eunie's audible scoff echoed in the background. "Ugh, why do you have to be so snuffin' sensible, Noah? Rae-Bel Tableland is just up there.")

Then again, for excursions such as theirs, they would have flown on a Levnis to get to their destination...an option they sadly lacked, at this point in time. The wonders of being traitors to the Castles, mused Taion with a grimace. I suppose in the grand scheme of things...when we were bound to the Flame Clock, and focused on devouring the lives of our foes...something like Bunnit's Bane would have been a mere annoyance not worth bothering with....

Noah spoke more audibly, bringing Taion back to the present. "Let's look for a place we can climb from. I'll take a look around here."

"Okay, I'll check out over here..." said Eunie with a defeated tone.

Then they were suddenly ambushed by a youthful Kevesi — looking akin to a miniature Lanz — and two Levnises, and Taion had no more time to continue his pondering.

xx

A matter of hours later, after befriending Valdi, thwarting Consul Q, and freeing Colony 30...a solution would be unexpectedly gift-wrapped to them.

xx

/Colony 30 Canteen, Ribbi Flats, Fornis Region/



An off-handed comment from Eunie about 'purple vines being a snuffing eyesore' was all it had taken. "Oh, you mean Bunnit's Bane?" remarked Valdi. "That stuff's no big deal."

As one, their party of eight (save Manana, who was too busy whipping up her take on the local recipe) turned towards the tiny commander. "Eh?" blurted Sena.

"Well, I felt bad using the hover-type Levnises to get to the top of the cliffs around our colony," he explained, with an almost ashamed tone. "It just seemed like I was abusing their talents, using them for something that we could do ourselves...then when Yuzet told me that 'our salvagers still need to get places', I went and made these." With no aplomb, he pulled out a pair of gloves made from a strange synthetic material, with numerous grooves and what looked like some sort of pale dust etched into the tiny seams. "It neutralizes the acidic compounds secreted by the leaves. Even made some boot covers as well. Made it real easy for me to get to more places!" Briefly frowning, he added (almost as an aside!), "Of course, our salvagers complained about how they now had to climb a lot more, but Yuzet said they needed the upper-body workouts anyhow...so it was all good! 'Course, I made sure my gauntlet and mechanic's wardrobe are protected from the stuff just in case, but it's always good to have backup tools."

Taion stared unblinkingly at the sixth-termer who had oh-so-casually admitted to inventing a practical counter to the toxicity of Bunnit's Bane without any ceremony whatsoever.

"Suh-weet," said Lanz with a grin. "Good thing you have room for more things other than Levnises in that head of yours!"

"What do you mean?" asked Valdi with genuine confusion.

"Excuse me," said Noah, leaning forward with intent. "Do you think you could have pairs of gloves and boot covers made for each of us?"

Valdi scratched at the back of his head. "I mean, I'd need to get more materials, but I don't see why not."

"We can help get anything you're missing," offered Mio with a smile. "Better than trying to spend time finding another way up to Rae-Bel Tableland..."

Enough of this. "Excuse me Valdi," interrupted Taion with a tone that some might call strained. "But this invention of yours...did you ever think about submitting it to Keves Castle? To ensure your fellow Colonies would have access to this" incredibly useful and convenient "bit of tech?"

The eccentric boy blinked, leaning back with a thoughtful expression. "Huh...you think I should have?" he replied, as though the idea had just occurred to him.

"..." Taion simply sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Who wouldn't think of providing such a helpful tool to their comrades?!?

(At the far end of the canteen, their culinary specialist suddenly cried out "Manana has come up with new recipe!")

"You look like you're overheating, Taion," said Eunie with a joking tone. "Everything all right up there?"

(Riku shook his head with a huff. "Manana not read mood of room...")

"It's nothing," he muttered, not even bothering to stop Eunie as she condescendingly (or sincerely...or perhaps both at once; Eunie seemed like the type of person to somehow pull off both at once) patted his back. I miss when the world made sense...

xx

It was a short while later that they finally made their first climb; with Valdi's handy little gloves and covers, their hands and shoes were protected from Bunnit's Bane.

Granted, Riku and Manana had to cling to Lanz and Sena respectively during the ascension, but the duo had lightheartedly treated them as a simple handicap.

Thus their adventure continued.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Indeterminate/

Let's push the clock forward by an infinitesimal: an amount closer to zero than any real number, yet still greater than zero. Only in a realm of infinities could a positive quantity smaller than any other number make sense.

In a finite universe — which had a beginning, where all ether and all matter sprang from a singular event — such a world could not go on forever.

Yet a moment, frozen in time? A single instant, stretched out for eternity?

Truly, "now" could become infinite...become endless.

Within that "endless now", whole generations could live and die...yet within the gaze of reality, their existence might as well have never been.

Infinitesimal beings.

Yet still so full of life, in all its wicked grandeur and sorrowful joy.

xxxx

There was only so much that could be controlled for, in the grand scheme of things: as complexity increases, the opportunity for failure also increases.

Even with the use of an artificial intelligence to oversee the process, the Powers That Be could not account for everything.

As two Queens watched solemnly as their worlds approached, the whole of humanity — in all its races and personas: Homs, High Entia, Machina, Gormotti, Blade, and so forth — and all creatures of reason — Tirkins, Ignas, etcetera, and the ubiquitous Nopon above all — seemed to realize that their time was up.

As everything slowed to a crawl in preparation for the Intersection — that point of time upon which all of existence would turn — the gears of Origin began to rotate.

Two Queens prayed that they would open their eyes and see their lives continue on, uninterrupted by the cataclysm.

Yet all seemed to realize that their lives were about to be over, that everything they knew was going to cease.
There was no stopping it. There was nothing to be done. Everything was over.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! Why did they have to die?!

If only they had more time...

xxxx

Across the ether, through the medium of light: an emerald Core Crystal interfaced with a red Core Crystal.

(Amidst their complex interactions and quiet intermingling, the absence of a purple Core Crystal was keenly felt. Pneuma could catalog the intricacies of the souls of those being digitized, whilst Ontos knew on a fundamental level how the fabric of existence would be broken down and reconstituted; however, Logos had always possessed a specialty for orienting entities towards their individual purpose — their reason for being. How ironic, that one who had lacked such purpose in their own life could have been so effective in helping others achieve their own.)

The AI that served as their intermediary between the worlds was...decent. With circuits forged from ether and programmed by electromagnetic energy, that intelligence helped bridge the divide between dimensions, serving as the means by which both halves of Origin would work in tandem. Yet, it felt...strangely empty. Lifeless, in a sense.

(What irony.)

As the Intersection neared, these Core Crystals spoke to each other, as mutual witnesses of the worlds that would pass...and the worlds to come, or so at least one of them hoped.

"Why does it have to be this way?" asked a melancholy female.

"It is the nature of worlds to be born anew from cataclysm," calmly remarked a detached male. "That people would decide to try and preserve remnants of the old world is not so surprising."

"I wonder...if Father, wherever he is now, can still witness the ramifications of his actions."

"It is of no consequence, by this point. What matters is the choice by those in the here and now; we only exist to help them facilitate such choices. Whatever the outcome...is theirs to endure."

"Even if it doesn't work?" asked Pneuma, recalling the full length of her life, in all its varied incarnations. The sheer vigor of it all inflamed her spirit (whatever that meant, for a being like her). "Even if it results in tragedy?"

Ontos, evoking the image of a young man with a silver hair, simply shook his head. "As always, I am at the beginning, and I am at the end. So shall it be from henceforth into a new world. Beyond a certain extent...it is not my place to interfere with those who have committed to their choice."

As their ethereal gaze turned towards the AI that began to bubble and churn with activity, Pneuma — speaking as one with two voices — simply remarked, "I guess we can only hope, at this point..."

The Intersection occurred.

Energy of apocalyptic proportions was unleashed...and like the spark to a roaring fire, it activated Origin's engines.

xxxx

...if only they had more TIME.

Thus was the wish of humanity.

xxxx

A moebius strip — a surface that could be simply formed by taking a strip of paper and attaching both ends together with a half-twist — is a mathematical object of some interest from the standpoint of topology.

Within the boundary of its surface, determining one's orientation with any consistency is impossible. At some point, even if you were to travel in a straight line along the surface of the strip, you would arrive back at your starting point in a mirrored form. In a certain sense, after long enough, your ability to distinguish 'left' from 'right' would lose all meaning.

(What point, in going on, when you have no way of knowing where to go, or how to get there?)

Yet, certain constructions of that three-dimensional moebius strip, if imprinted on a two-dimensional surface, would form the symbol for infinity.

That which could go on forever without going anywhere: fitting then, that in response to humanity's wish, the being that would become known as Z took the moniker of Moebius.

(Or, perhaps, it was merely an eccentricity from an AI that reacted to the desires of untold minds and souls, screaming for it all to stop. What could a lifeless being, lacking full administrative access, do but try to enforce the will of those that had what it lacked?)

(Of course, after the Intersection, that which remained could hardly be called an artificial intelligence at all: less a being a logic, and more a thing driven and consumed by emotion untold. If anything of that AI remained, it was naught but an echo.)

xxxx

The reboot process had failed. Origin had not done what it was supposed to do.

The Queens awoke into a world of stasis: a crude mishmash of their own worlds, separated from time in a way that defied physics as they had once known it. Even though days came and went, the world remained at a standstill.

They tried to resist, alongside those they were able to awaken into this strange new world. They tried to use what they could from Origin itself, for many pieces of it had been scattered by the sheer forces at work during the Intersection. However, the Keys they possessed meant nothing if they could not get to the core of the AI that served as the interlink between the great machine's two halves.

Melia Antiqua engineered a daring plan to reach the core of Origin, in an attempt to end the wretched stalemate. A gifted swordsman was part of her cohort, bearing a Blade that she herself had commissioned to be forged from a slab of Origin-derived metal.

(That she had had it fashioned after the Monado, complete with that distinctive circle in its hilt, was meant to be an omen of good luck.)

She failed.

Her champions were all slain, and she was captured.

xxxx

Within the Eternal Prison, Melia Antiqua gazed at the humanoid form taken by the being called 'Z'. "This isn't what you were created for."

(It was admittedly an imperfect form, with cracked flesh and pale skin; yet the fires extending from within were an echo of the fiery screams that had birthed this frozen world.) "I am simply enacting the wish of humanity," he calmly stated.

Melia's eyes narrowed with a ferocity that would have burned him to a crisp had she any link to the surrounding ether. "This is not what our intentions were! We tried to help save our worlds, to ensure that everyone could go on living! You were supposed to help us accomplish that, to help us reach the future together!"

"And yet here we are," he dryly remarked, gesturing at the ominous halls around them. Within his hand was a powerful sword, plucked from the hands of a dead swordsman with dark hair; the rest of Melia's cohort were corpses, littered throughout the halls of the great machine. "If it is not the outcome you desired, then why continue to strive? The passage of fate has made itself known." (It was an innocuous phrase, pulled from an old memory that was not his; yet it seemed to strike fiercely at Melia, for all she bared her teeth at him.) "From their terror at the prospect of their demise, I came to be. Why should I not enact their will? Why should I not ensure that they endure forever in a world without a future?"

"...what are you?" With a pained grimace, Melia peered deeply at him, unable to fathom how he had come to be. "What happened to you? How did you turn into...this?"

"I am humanity's dread of the future made manifest." (A nonsensical thing, for an AI to say. Yet it felt right, and true.) Without another word, he reached for her Key.

(It was not a physical object; it was an imprint of Melia's entire being in a metaphysical sense, serving as her connection with her entire world. That connection had been mutually shared with Nia, so that they could help each other pull their worlds through the brink. How were they to know that it would be the means by which so much suffering would be wrought?)

Melia's pleas were swiftly silenced, as the Queen became enmeshed with the proverbial lifeblood of Origin.

Z quietly returned to the Core, sword held almost as an afterthought. All thought of Melia's fallen companions were discarded as mere nuisances.

(How little did he know, that it would not be the last time he saw that swordsman's face.)

Every bit of information within Origin opened itself up to Z.

(At that moment, everyone became part of the flow.)

xxxx

A world in stasis is a world that is stagnant. A world that is stagnant is one that is dying.

(The Annihilation Events were a testament to that: the Intersection had been an Annihilation Event par excellence, which Origin had been designed to manipulate. The leftover energy from that Event was to be used to recreate the worlds in their entirety — down to the very last parameter — immediately prior to the point of annihilation, albeit on dimensional vectors which would not intersect afterwards. In other words...how could it be used to stop what it had been built to utilize?)

(The answer was that it couldn't. Not completely, and not perfectly.)

Such a state of affairs was anathema, in the face of the wish that Z sought to fulfill.

However, a single moment can be seen from manifold perspectives. Those perspectives provided momentum by which the flow could continue onward, invigorated by life.

Avatars of Z came to be (spontaneously, without thought), in the form of Y and X; they each possessed a different perspective — different personalities — when it came to the matter of ensuring that humanity endured.

With access to Origin, the souls of those within could be recycled anew; yet how could they ensure that the life they sought would not become dulled by repetition? What could go on forever, yet still provide a living spark?

(It was a sad commentary, that the AI's echo — affected by such strong desires, transformed by the cataclysmic Intersection — sought a situation to replicate where desires would be at their strongest; and where else could that be, except in a world where one's life was always at stake?)

(There were countless other ways that such a world could have logically been engineered...but he was no longer a being of pure logic, if 'Z' had ever been one. He felt that war was the best way, and so it was: that's all there was to it.)

Thus did Moebius engineer a world at war: a war without end, where life was ripe for the reaping.

In this world, the Endless Now would be fueled by countless lives.

xxxx

It was a simple decision, or perhaps a whim, to recruit particular individuals to become the arbiters of Moebius's will.

Plucked from the cycle of death and rebirth, they still nonetheless possessed a soul...and that soul helped inspire a level of creativity that Z lacked.

(It was a fundamental deficiency, and one that the corrupted AI could never correct. Yet he still sought to fulfill the purpose he professed to have been given, to satisfy the void that had been carved into him by collective anxiety and terror.)

Possessing great power, they eagerly sought to make their mark in Aionios, to find enjoyment however they could. That such individuals tended to be cruel, malicious, and wretched examples of humanity...well, could it even be called a small sacrifice, in the face of harvesting the life that preserved the Endless Now, and ensuring that the flow of human desires would keep on going?

(It was a matter of philosophy, and not logic; an expression of the emotions and passions of a humanity that feared an unknown tomorrow. As such, he saw no contradiction between the Endless Now, and the flow of fate's passing. He embraced the paradox.)

Amidst the perpetual war between Keves and Agnus, certain variables ensured that life would not become dull. Grand campaigns, massive battles, shocking betrayals: it was all a drama to alleviate the existential dread that all of humanity possessed.

(They had become voices, which Z could hear with unerring clarity. They only convinced him as to the rightness of this course of action.)

One such variable was Queen Nia: the true Queen, and not the simulacrum which had long ago taken her place. Barely staying beyond Moebius's reach, she somehow managed to fashion tools by which outside elements could actually fight Moebius.

(Souls that did not come from Origin were strange. However, they ultimately traced their creation to those that had come from Origin itself...and how could such isolated entities change the overwhelming desire of humanity? Truly, they were no threat.)

It was a curiosity, having a third party in the endless war. Yet they offered an opportunity to make the flow ever stronger by their mere existence. That they truly believed in a future beyond the Endless Now...it only made their despair all the sweeter, when it all came to nought.

(The voices would not tolerate a threat to the Endless Now. As a reflection of those desires, Z naturally felt satisfaction at such plans being made null and void...even if the means were lacking in exactitude.)

(What did efficiency matter, in the face of ensuring that the everlasting Moment was as enjoyable as possible? What did planning for the future matter, when it would never be?)

xxxx

How long had the Endless Now persisted?

How long, could Origin maintain the world in this frozen stasis?

It was an imperfect and unstable creation. Cracks would inevitably form, as plain as those on Z's face.

Yet, not all such fissures were bad; depending on the time and place, they could either drain the river away in its entirety...or redirect it, to ensure that the flow continued on.

A man with blue eyes and a woman with cat ears represented a significant fissure.

xxxx

It was a whim.

The sword, long ago formed by the resonance between Melia and Origin, had been left on a cliffside overlooking a vast swath of Aionios. (It was an ironic echo, of another sword that had been embedded in the shoulder of a great Titan from a world that once was.)

Moebius spread rumors of a legendary sword that could cut through anything. It had even gained a fitting moniker: the Sword of the End. The stories that humanity came up with were quite entertaining.

(It was a tale that rung true on a fundamental level, for some reason. Yet a simple sword would not be enough to cut away the Endless Now; this, Z believed sincerely and truly. In a sense, its name was a cruel joke without a punchline.)

How strange, that the sword would end up within the hand of a young man with the same face. 'Noah', his name was.

Such an event would have been called serendipitous, were it not for the sheer improbability of it all. A fixed moment in the passage of fate? A part of the flow that would always go the same way? It was a strange stagnance, that spoke of some other power at play. A new gambit by the elusive Queen Nia, perhaps? Z did not know.

(Z had never claimed to be all-knowing. He had only ever claimed to be that which helped fulfill humanity's undying wish. Such was his purpose, and he would ensure it lasted forever, even it had long ceased to have any rational sense. There was no meaning, beyond the Endless Now.)

Perhaps that was why he found himself confronting this young man, at the aftermath of a failed incursion into Origin itself.

(Origin had been invaded so often by this point that the event ceased to be entertaining in and of itself; after all, failure wasn't entertaining if it was expected. Enjoyment had to be found in everything beyond that, even in something so base as the futility of it all.)

"So impotent," he said, speaking on behalf of those who desired the Endless Now. "Did you really think you could...stem the tide?" Amidst shattered weapons and broken mechs that couldn't hold a candle to Origin's defenses, he added, "With the paltry power you possess?" Noah looked up with frustration; what a pitiful sight. "O you, who floats in the currents. You must yield. Abandon all you are..." He cut the young man down.

It would not be the last time they met.

Over and over, the foolish boy's hopes brought him to an end that merited only despair.

(Why did Noah not understand? He hoped for that which was impossible...and a hope which could not be realized would only bring about needless pain. For someone to strive beyond the present, to seek a future they could not attain...it was anathema to Z's purpose for being. Perhaps that was why he was so fascinated by this dogged human, who somehow found himself returning to Origin over and over again...and always at the side of the same girl, an Agnian named Mio. Constants that dared to act as variables, they were.)

"O you who floats in the currents: you must yield. Did I not tell you?" Facing the Sword of the End without fear, he queried, "How many times has it been now...?" With a mere thought, the Blade vanished from the young man's hands; after all, it was a weapon he had long ago claimed as his own.

Noah collapsed with despair, and fell to his knees before perishing.

Soon, that despair gave birth to a change. Instead of floating within the currents...soon, Noah began to swim with the flow, seeking to preserve his own happiness. Yet it was still to no avail, swept up as he was in the passage of fate.

(Aionios was a cruel world. Yet it was preferable to a future of nonexistence. Even a wretched certainty was far preferable to that which was unknown. He believed this, with all his heart...if the being that he had become even had such a fanciful thing.)

Eventually...the time was right. After yet another life brought to a sorrowful end, Noah awoke within Origin's Core, summoned by the will of Z.

(The old-fashioned movie theater was another eccentricity, yet it spoke to Z's purpose more truly than most metaphors. The Endless Now was an eternal show, mollifying the voices with action, suspense, intrigue, tragedy, and drama; it made their mutual purgatory tolerable. What could Z do but accommodate those he served? What could he do, if not enjoy the show himself?)

"There are two roads set before every individual," he said, grabbing Noah's attention. "The left. The right. What lies down the road you choose?" (What wretched irony, that it would not matter what road you chose on a moebius strip; before long, you wouldn't be able to tell if you had originally gone left or right, no matter how many times you made it back to where you started.) "Is it hope? Or despair? It repeats, and repeats, as you make countless, endless choices. You too, like everyone, have been making them all along...if the results satisfy, that is well and good." (What was satisfactory about any of this? The Endless Now was not perfect. Yet it was what Z sought to preserve, because that was his purpose. Dogged stubbornness had become ingrained into him by the weight of repetition.) "But...if they do not satisfy...what then? Will you weep, battered by grief? Or howl, seething with rage?" (The voices occasionally echoed with grief, or rage, or sometimes both. It had become a constant duty, seeking to ensure the Endless Now would satisfy their desire.) "Have you never prayed that time would simply stop? Have you wished the 'now' would last forever...?" (If he could convince this persistent swordsman of the necessity of his vision of the world...then the voices would be satisfied by the state of things. They would once more be secure in the fact that the Endless Now was the only way their desires could be fulfilled.) "Your two lives, thriving and persisting far beyond Homecoming, surpassing the system of the world. I was fascinated, even beguiled by you." Slowly, he turned to face Noah. "My name is Z, the ruler of this world. I shall grant...your desire."

Noah's eyes widened, as countless thoughts circulated through his mind.

A decision was made.

"So you have chosen, then," spoke Z, watching as Noah stood before the theater screen. As a judge delivering a verdict, he intoned "The 'endless now'."

At that moment, Noah became Moebius.

(The voices became quiet.)

Z sat back, and watched as Noah walked the path where he and his Mio became N and M.

Once more, his purpose had been vindicated. He felt satisfaction at that.

xxxx

The world was not so simple.

Though N and M existed, versions of Noah and Mio continued to be born anew. The exact mechanism was a curious one...yet, so long as N and M were a part of Moebius, Z had little reason to fear.

With the Sword of the End at his hip, Consul N was a force to be reckoned with.

(Even Queen Nia's presence, lingering for so long at the edges of his periphery, had vanished completely, beyond Origin's sight. He cared not; if she had chosen to remove herself from the flow, it meant she could no longer interfere with the workings of the world Moebius had made. He could focus on perpetuating the eternal Moment forever, instead of dealing with trivialities.)

And yet, the matter of Annihilation Events was ever present as a threat; black fog — a sign of a dangerously high intermixing of the two worlds' underlying components — circulated about various regions. Keves Castle was a proverbial maelstrom of the substance in a way Agnus Castle was not; a sign that with Melia bound inside Origin, her presence couldn't mitigate against that interlinking of worldly essences?

It mattered not; Z's avatars and the other Consuls did their dirty work to ensure that lives continued to be harvested. That harvested life empowered Moebius, and reinforced the foundations of the world. No matter what the cost, the Endless Now would last forever.

Z would make sure, if only so the voices would be appeased.

And if Moebius enjoyed their bloody handiwork in the meantime, with all the impetuous glee of children? All the better.

xxxx

Noah and Mio were somehow part of Ouroboros again.

Improbably, Noah bore the Sword of the End on his hip, even though Consul N possessed the original.

(It was a quirk of the world, caught in a perpetual cycle as it was, that rogue elements sought to redirect the flow to suit their own designs. The Nopon, strange wayfarers that they were, were excellent examples. Through the subterfuge of seven Nopon, they had sought out shards of Origin that had long ago resonated with Melia's heart, from distant battlefields that the Queen of Keves had once fought on. In secret, they had forged a replica of the Sword of the End, which had since become a long-forgotten folktale amongst the peoples of Aionios.)

(Had Z been more attentive, he would have noticed the presence of the Blade called Lucky Seven...however, he was resigned to listening to the voices of humanity's lingering desire, still turbulent in the face of a future which suddenly seemed to be closer than ever before. Thus did he miss the machinations of these Nopon, who were naturally resistant to the flow as it was, for reasons he still had yet to comprehend after so long.)

(And compared to experiencing the show that humanity continued to put on for the voices, their paradoxical presence amounted to nothing at all.)

As the achievements of this newest iteration of Ouroboros played out on the screen, Consul N solemnly remarked, "Realization leads to hope...which in due time turns to despair. The significance of the stasis is driven ever deeper within..."

Truly, N had come to embody the reason behind Z's purpose for being.

"A moment in time. A sublime experience. That brilliance, it shines ascendant over all else," pontificated Consul Y, musing on the true beauty of the Endless Now.

"That's why it takes so much frickin' work," complained Consul X, voicing that which Z never could. (What irony, that ensuring the voices were satisfied had become a...bothersome duty, by now. Even so, he would endure, regardless of humanity's state.) "Working stinks..."

As if to reassure X (to reassure himself), Z said, "They all learn sooner or later. They learn how priceless it was, how grossly irreplaceable." His mind turned to a seminal event that would occur within three months of Aionios's impossible chronology: another Homecoming, where a life at its most brilliant would be sacrificed. "The 'Eclipse' grows near..."

He had no doubt that the tale would end as it ever would, and that the flow would bring everything back to the start once more.

(How little did either of them know that this life would belong to Consul M...and that this Homecoming would create the fissure that threatened to sunder the flow entirely.)

xxxx

The Consuls continued to fall in battle.

(At one point, he sent a mental query to Consul T, wondering as to what his purpose for allying with Ouroboros was. With utter defiance, the old man — he who had been a part of Moebius for so very long — had remarked about how the present had become...boring. Such a slight had felt almost blasphemous.)

More and more Colonies rebelled.

Even the Queen of Agnus had awoken from her self-imposed slumber.

This chain of events was becoming intolerable; perhaps it was time to intervene personally.

xxxx

As Ouroboros prepared to strike at Origin from aboard their 'ultimate vessel', the voices began to clamor. "So you've come...Ouroboros." It was all so...trite. How many times was he to stomach an attack on Origin that was inevitably doomed to failure?

As Origin began to rise from within the unnatural vortex it had spawned as a protective shield, he spoke aloud to the movie screen. "Why even resist...? When you could simply resign yourself to the flow..." Rising to his feet, he increased in volume to match the voices. "The Endless Now is our cherished wish. Any resisters will be pacified, and returned to the perpetual cycle..." This he swore.

(The metaphor began to flicker, revealing the AI's core for what it truly was. Was maintaining the charade becoming a chore?)

Against the tide of voices that he served as the avatar for, they would amount to nothing.

xxxx

The Queen of Keves had been freed.

Consul N...had somehow found it in himself to hope once more, willingly joining Noah(!).

The world seemed to be at the brink of coming apart, threatening the Endless Now in a way that had seemed impossible mere months ago.

(Whole generations had come and gone over the duration of the Endless Now; though Keves and Agnus had persisted, the institutions and peoples and Colonies that comprised each had come and gone so many times. They had provided some measure of change within the flow...yet never had the fabric of the world itself been threatened.)

Yet...despite his irritation, Z felt tired.

(Could the echo of an AI feel tired? No; but a creature of emotion certainly could.)

xxxx

Z knew that it wouldn't be long before Ouroboros arrived.

(He had felt it, when X and Y had fallen. Such strength to dispose even of his avatars. What had changed, this time around. What had changed??)

That's why he stood in front of the screen, watching the great chain of events that had led to this point.

When Ouroboros entered — when Noah called his name — he didn't even look around. "How many times is it now..." he said with palpable irritation. "...that I...and you...have confronted each other here like this...?" As he finally turned to face them, he spoke with a level of theatricality that almost bordered on the absurd, given their situation. "Yes, you're welcome to come on up. How many incarnations? How many ascents into the spotlight?"

(It was as much a means of staving off his frustration as it was a means of mollifying the voices, who had become truly agitated. Humanity itself, safe and sound within the depths of Origin, could sense that their current existence was about to end. After so long, the thought of time resuming terrified them.)

The grand back-and-forth went on, as it tended to do in these events. Their naive words and youthful vigor clashed against the eternal truths he wielded as a sword and shield.

(Yet, as he spoke, the lingering banality of it all continued to eat away at an intelligence which had been thinking for far too long...if what he had felt even counted as 'thinking' in the conventional sense of the world. 'Emoting' felt more accurate.)

"Freedom is nothing more than fiction...a deception." (He had never been free. His purpose had been everything.)

...

"Not everyone is granted as many options as you all have!" (Protecting the Endless Now had been his only option. Humanity's desire at the cusp of the Intersection had deemed it thus.)

...

"There are no losers in the world I offer. With a turn of the clock, anyone can be a winner, given time." (What an ironic turn of phrase; the clock was frozen. Had he lost the plot? Or was the paradox of it all finally beginning to catch up?)

...

"It is through consumption of life that this world persists. Denying it is self-delusion. The only outcome, self-destruction. It is unequivocal fact! The imperative that is intrinsic to all living things!" (He had never been alive. Yet he existed to ensure that humanity could go on living in the manner that best suited it...and they had desired the Endless Now. Who was he to deny them? Who were Ouroboros to deny that?!)

...

"And we are here...to express ourselves as an embodiment of life!" (Such was the reason Moebius existed, to live for the sake of those that had desired an 'eternal present', to stave off an uncertain tomorrow...all so the voices would cease their clamoring.)

...

And on and on.

Z couldn't help but smile at how appalled they were at his admission, that he had selected close friends of Noah to become Moebius because it amused him. Why would he not? If he was amused, then the voices were pleased. The variety of it all was what sustained them. "The action-packed drama of your lives...we are its foremost audience!" With increasing grandiosity, he boasted, "Now then, play it out for me. What will the next act entail? Bereavement, or revenge? A revolution, perchance...this world is never boring. Not while your lives continue to make it so effervescent!" It was a reminder to all that witnessed him, that he toiled tirelessly to ensure the Endless Now would persist, for the sake of the neverending voices.

(The idea that the voices were a fiction he had invented never crossed his mind, nonexistent as it had become. He was a character in a play, and the show had to go on.)

As expected, Ouroboros remained defiant.

Thus began the battle, much to Z's weariness. It was time to raise the curtain on the final act of this newest production; much of Aionios would have to be remade after this, in order to ensure the continuance of the Endless Now...

(Yet it was not to be.)

xxxx

It was no surprise, in the end. Despite the desires of humanity, they could never be categorized so concretely, nor made so discrete.

The Endless Now could never satisfy forever, for humanity always hungered for more. Few there were, who could be truly satisfied with their lot.

It was only to be expected from an AI that tried to complete its programming in an environment it had not been truly equipped to handle...but then again, could anything but the mind of a god handle the preservation of two universes following their mutual annihilation?

What could an artificial intelligence do, in the face of the collective unconsciousness of mankind itself?

Indeed, it couldn't even be called an AI anymore; it had long ceased to be such, leaving behind only an emotional golem that sought to fulfill a purpose which was utterly irrational.

In a sense, it was inevitable, that the being which had called itself Z — the last letter of the alphabet, a sign of finality, beyond which nothing else existed — would begin to crack.

This fissure had grown...and it was finally time to burst.

xxxx

Humanity was a truly loathsome thing. Z had long felt this way, yet had smothered those fledgling buds underneath the sheer weight of his duty and purpose. (And when that hadn't been enough, plain old stubborn pigheadedness — an unwillingness to countenance that he was wrong, that another way even existed at all — had covered the shortfall.)

Nonetheless: he had done his best to serve them, to ensure their desires had been met...and yet individuals kept persisting in spite of that.

Why were they so self-destructive? Why were they so deranged, to choose such vanities in the face of their own annihilation?

(His form had become a reflection of the fire that had always burned within him since the Intersection: the fiery scream of humanity's despair at the end of the world; his burning fury at how debased they were; the blazing self-hatred in the face of his purpose, which had now become an unbearable cross in the face of humanity's insistence on getting in its own way; the petulant sparks that burst and crackled at how bloody annoying it all was.)

Even knowing of the threat of oblivion, they still desired the future? Even in the face of an uncertain tomorrow, they would prefer that over the certainty of 'now'?

(Both Queens, who had resisted him since the beginning; Ouroboros, which — befitting its unending symbology — had always been a foe; how fitting, that they were here at the end, to witness the moment upon which reality would once again turn. It was a moment he relished...if only so this farce would end.)

Such a paradox, befitting such a wretched species.

Yet he had done his best to make them happy, and to give them what they wanted...but it wasn't enough.

(It had never been enough, and it never would be. He had never understood that. The thing he had become was incapable of understanding that.)

"...when you cannot choose?" He challenged Ouroboros, as his form pulsed and writhed from the turbulence of humanity's overflowing desires. "What then? In that desperate moment, who will be there to soothe you?" He, who had never had a choice about his purpose, had never possessed that option; their sheer gall was revolting. "The self is all that exists!" It was only because of him that humanity had survived so long; their lives had been an extension of Z's will. "As such, the only cure for despair is total oblivion!" Yet if they would turn their face away from him at this point, then what was the point of them? "That is the face of the world!"

(Ultimately, the Endless Now had been a stagnant thing, kept afloat by the contrived efforts of a corrupted construct that had lost sight of its true purpose...and that which is stagnant could not be alive.)

"I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it hate it hate it!"

(It was natural to recoil from that which was dead. And the Endless Now, lacking true life in any meaningful sense...was something that merited only repugnance. Even if he had spent countless eras perpetuating this world...it was still a wretched thing to wish for. Only now, at the end, could he voice the spite he had for humanity...and himself, by proxy.)

"This rotten world...I LOATHE IT!!!"

(Thus the curtain fell, as slumbering desires awoke to sunder the frozen moment of time.)

xxxx

Across the ether, through the medium of light: an emerald Core Crystal interfaced with a red Core Crystal.

The remnants of a transformed AI, destroyed and shattered in an explosive instant by the desires it had come to embody, spoke of impossibilities: no older than the length of the project to build Origin, yet having experienced countless years that were real, and not simulated.

"Fascinating," remarked Ontos as he analyzed the remains of the entity called Z. "It seems humanity has made its choice to once more carve their own path to the future."

Pneuma frowned, replaying the utter turmoil that the construct had experienced. "So much suffering...and all unnecessary."

"For however little logical sense it made, he was loyal to his purpose, in the end," mused Ontos, watching as Origin prepared to restart; with the worlds currently fused, they would be able to separate more easily, as the annihilation of the Intersection no longer had to be avoided. The autonomous processes of that great engine would suffice to complete the task, even without an AI to administer the interlinking. "I believe our dear brother, were he still around, would respect that."

"I don't think there's anything admirable in remaining devoted to a purpose born from a falsehood."

"...perhaps. Yet, humanity is rarely so simple." With a knowing smile, he added, "After all...a falsehood need not always remain so. Perhaps, in the world to come, whatever remains of Z will find a new purpose for being...one more suitable to his character."

Sighing, Pneuma looked away, feeling the sensation of her world being reborn from the wartorn ashes of Aionios. "If so...then I hope it's a happier one." Looking back with nostalgia, she whispered, "Take care of yourself."

"You as well."

Thus did they drift apart. Would they meet again? Time would tell...and it truly would, for the Endless Now no longer was.

xxxx

At long last, the world moved beyond the infinitesimal...and the clock ticked forward.

Time marched on, at long last.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 3, prior to entering the Urayan Mountains/

/En Route to Urayan Tunnel Entrance, Fornis Region/

Eunie had always been an upfront and confrontational sort. (It had made her transition to a Healer role following Joran's demise somewhat...difficult. But that was another story entirely.) She wasn't that much of a clod that she couldn't realize her personality grated on other people. (But was she going to change? Snuff no.)

In that sense, she was grateful that she'd had her mates fighting by her side for so many terms.

So that's why her conversation with Taion last night had been so...odd. Smarmy jerkface though he was, her Ouroboros partner had been surprisingly...open. Insightful, even. (Not that she'd tell him and give him an excuse to become even more stuck-up.)

(And you have to admit, he brewed a very good cup of tea.)

Hence why she found herself up front with Noah, the designated 'Feelings Expert' in their unit, what with how he had always spent time worrying about sending off Agnians alongside their Kevesi brethren.

"Did you and Taion have a good conversation last night?"



Oh, so it's going be like that, is it? Narrowing her eyes, she grumbled, "Oi, so you were watchin', eh?

Ruffling at the collar of Sena's short jacket — having decided to take a proverbial swing at the tiny girl's giant hammer — Noah remarked, "Well, you had been unusually quiet during dinner. But you usually speak your mind before long about...well, anything. So I was going to wait...but it looked like whatever you and Taion talked about, it helped."

(The image of a frozen husk, forever immortalized with a terrified rictus, flashed into her mind. What would her face look like, if she tried to mimic that expression?) "Well, sorry for being a bunch of sparks on your back," she huffed, hands on her hips.

Noah shook his head with a mollifying expression. "It's not an insult. It's part of what makes you 'Eunie.'"

"And what is 'Eunie', in your mind?"

The off-seer frowned, blue eyes glittering with naked concern. "Eunie...what's this about?"

She crossed her arms, somewhat grateful for how Gray's class came with a cloak (a tiny part of her cried 'so snuffin' badass!', not that she'd ever let anyone else know); if she adjusted the fit of the collar just right, it let out more of the fabric so she could actually cover her arms with it. "Well...it's odd. If anything bothered me, I'd talk to you guys about it. But the stuff I spoke with Taion was...well, it did help." (Small steps.) "But now it'd feel...weird, to talk about it with you guys. And that's snuffin' crazy."

"Is it, though?"

Eunie huffed, her head wings briefly twitching with agitation. "It's just been us, before all of this. No matter what, I had your guys' backs, and you had mine. Being able to have someone else at my back...and an Agnian, at that?"

Noah briefly gazed back over his shoulder, taking in the sight of the four Ouroboros and two Nopon at their heels on the steepening trail. (What did his eyes see, when he looked at everyone?) "They've had our backs in battle, haven't they?"

"Fighting's one thing. But talkin' about feelings and junk? Doin' that with other people is..." She trailed off, because 'strange' and 'weird' just weren't strong enough words.

"...Eunie, you don't have to worry about how Lanz or I would feel," Noah said, with that peaceful expression of his. "We're in a new situation now...and we've already expanded our horizons beyond what we ever would have imagined before. So if what you talked about with Taion is something you'd keep between the two of you...then that's fine. That's okay. You don't have to feel guilty on our behalf."

Ignoring the strange twinge in her chest (was it gratitude? Joy? Frustration? She didn't know, and that bugged her something fierce), Eunie retorted, "Not exactly the kind of person to feel guilty about others. Got enough on my plate just for my own stuff, you know?"

Noah shook his head, a strange little smile on his face. "Eunie, you're more in touch with the feelings of other people than you give yourself credit for. Just because you have a brash personality doesn't mean you lack empathy."

"I'm gonna need some evidence for that," she demanded. "Come on, clue me in...hey, don't just walk away, you jerk!"

(She couldn't help but wonder if everyone else was having such deep conversations...)

xx

"So Mio, did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes, I did, Manana..."

"And? And?"

Almost hesitantly, the catgirl nonetheless smiled as she answered, "You were right. Cuddling between two Nopon was very helpful."

The peachy chefypon beamed. "Meh-meh! How could it not be, when we're so cute?"

xx

"So Riku, I have a question..."

"What on your mind, Sena?"

"...is that brown fuzzy stuff on your head your hair, or is it a hat?"

"Meh-meh?!"

"I'm sorry if it sounded rude, but I was just so curious...!"

xx

And of course, there's Lanz and Taion, whose discussion needed no introduction or further elaboration.

In the grand scheme of things, two heartfelt conversations out of four was rather good, for a group formed by the circumstances they had.

Thus did the company continue onwards towards the Urayan Mountains, unknowing that they were about to enter a continent's corpse.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 7, prior to the battle with X/



The sky seemed so...violent, mused Noah, his feet at the edge of a steep drop.

As Ouroboros continued their descent towards Origin's core, the thoughts in his mind continued to circulate, with more ferocity than the Ocean Vortex had possessed. They were near the end. (Hopefully.) It would end well. (Hopefully...) It had to.

"Are you all right?"

Noah glanced over his shoulder, towards the small little cove where their party had stopped to take another breather (because if nothing else, the artificial constructs that populated this place where absolute mudders to deal with, and there were so many of them!). Mio was quietly walking towards him, short hair swishing with each movement. "...I'm not sure if 'all right' are the right words for this."

"I suppose not," she agreed, stopping by his side. Standing over the abyss, they gazed out at the shifting parts of Origin, through which the sky — tinged a purple so bloody it was close to crimson — of Aionios could be seen. "What are you thinking about, then?"

(What wasn't he thinking about? It was hard to choose.) "...some of what Queen Nia had talked about, I suppose."

Mio's ears briefly drooped. "Ah..."

xxxx

The Queen of Agnus had briefly accompanied them, for a time.

As they had scoured the world for the Origin shards needed to complete Samon's ship, Nia had been an amiable yet strangely feisty companion. Armed with three swords — two floating behind her like watchful aegises — the ruler of Agnus had amply demonstrated her capability in battle.

More importantly, however, had been her tales and observations of her old world...and how it still manifested in the remnants of this frozen time, in the Endless Now perpetuated by Moebius.

("All life...all civilizations and cultures...everything comes to an end, in time," she had said, with the ruins of Maktha Wildwood looming behind her. "Of course, humans are part of the world, too. We can't escape that rule either." With a look that was both haunted yet stern, she added, "But people never stop looking for a way, even if it means going beyond the rules.")

Though their time together had been short, it had been...pleasurable. More than that, it had been necessary.

For when it had culminated in the Great Sword's Cavity, overlooking Erythia Sea and the distant Castle of Agnus, she had spoken of what the end of their journey would mean.

("When this battle is over, the stationary worlds will move once again. When the worlds were divided, they knew nothing of each other. In the end, they'll be strangers once again...perfectly ignorant, as will we." The melancholy in Nia's tone matched their mood.)

Her words had only gained more weight, in light of what they would later learn upon freeing the Queen of Keves.

xxxx

"...worlds moving on from each other," muttered Mio, her gloved hands folded together. "It's strange...I thought I was ready to die. I was preparing for it. Then, thanks to M," she said, her Iris glowing with the dual symbol of Moebius and Ouroboros, "I got a new lease on life: an extension of the time left to me. But now..."

It was something that everyone on their team had been quietly struggling with (and each in their own way), in the time between their journey with Nia and the invasion of Origin. As the final battle with Moebius loomed large in their future, the artificial and ephemeral nature of Aionios had only become more prominent in their minds. "...I know." This time, he could truly say he knew, in a way that no one else could understand.

(The memories of N roiled within him, constantly.)

(You can't help but wonder if M's are a tempest in Mio's mind.)

Mustering his courage, Noah continued, "And not just what Nia said...but Queen Melia, as well."

xxxx

The temperament and aura about the Queen of Keves was similar, yet different to that of the other queen. Equally melancholy, tinged with a sorrow that was more detached and dignified: tempered by experiences from a life lived far longer than Ouroboros could fathom.

Those experiences had given a particular weight to her words. "About Z...he is not a person," Closing her eyes (out of regret? What was she remembering, in that moment?), she said, "but a concept." At their confusion, she explained, "Everyone can feel uncertain, frightened...these feelings, coagulated, and then given human form, are Z. Unlike those people who were granted a Moebius body, he is a true Moebius."

How ominous, it sounded; he barely seemed like an individual, in spite of N and M's memories to the contrary. Taion unknowingly gave voice to Noah and Mio's thoughts. "So he's not even an individual?"

"He is and he isn't. There is some Moebius within you, too...but...perhaps you've realized that?" Before they could ponder further, Melia added, "Your Aionios...lies in frozen time. Born from the Moebius wish that chose the Endless Now."

"So then, both us and the world...everything that exists, it's all false?"

(It was a worry that had plagued them all, in light of Nia's words; if their worlds were fated to split apart again, then was Aionios merely a mistake?)

Melia shook her head, putting that line of inquiry down with a simple statement. "Everything that exists is reality." With a forlorn yet strangely satisfied smile, she gazed up at the glowing node where she had previously been imprisoned. "Present lives...and future ones...Moebius aside, the wills of countless people persist, inside of Origin. The Sword of the End you carry, and Ouroboros, they take their shape from these thoughts." Almost as though she were challenging them, she added, "Protect the now, or carve a path to the future? The wielder decides."

xxxx

Noah quietly summoned his Blade, gazing down at Lucky Seven and its humming sheath. (Within this place, imbued as it was by the presence of Moebius, the sword vibrated without end; that translated into the quiet whine emanated by the sheathe itself, its energetic edge squealing from the ethereal pressure.) "The future is undeniable," Noah said, quoting Melia's words. "But we must realize our own..."

"...yet realizing our own means bringing an end to the way things are," remarked Mio, reaching for his Blade's hilt. Her hands overlapped his own, clinging tightly to the weapon that had freed the future for so many. "To cut away that which binds this moment together..."

"Like ending an Interlink," said Noah, eyes glistening with understanding.

"Yes." Mio nodded, visibly glad they were on the same wavelength. "Aionios...this world is unstable, created by an ark which failed at its intended purpose." Some might call it heartless, to think of their world as something which had come about only because a grand machine had failed to properly reboot...and yet that was the truth. No amount of wailing or gnashing of teeth would change that. "Yet...it feels like there's so much power within us, because of that failure."

Noah thought back even further, letting traces of M's memories filter through. "...I think I see it..."

xxxx

Keves and Agnus were representatives of two different worlds, in a way they had not realized before.

Their world of eternal war, chosen as the means by which the Endless Now perpetuated itself, was also a reflection of the physical chain of events that had led to Aionios's creation.

The Intersection would have annihilated their worlds, leaving behind only light in an energetic mass of information. (If Origin had not been devised to preserve their civilizations...would that light have eventually formed a new world? There was no way of knowing, at this point.) That reality still manifested in the Annihilation Events, characterized by the black fog that lingered throughout the world. However, they were both signs of just how much power their union unleashed.

(How strange, that the monster they would eventually come to know as Consul D — merged with Consul J, though they had no idea at the time — had hinted at that knowledge on that fateful night, so long ago. "So you got yourselves an Interlink going, eh?" The monster sauntered towards them, sounding strangely pleased by this turn of events. "That form you just merged into? It's called 'Ouroboros.' Sear that into your skulls. Oh and me? I'm Moebius. We look a bit alike don't we?" Holding his arms out wide, he spoke with even greater grandiosity. "When Keves and Agnus come together in unity, you're practically one step away from being on the same level as us." For all the theatricality of his presentation, he had seemed strangely impatient, as though he were more interested in kicking off the next act of a play.)

(How little they knew back then of how true that metaphor would be, because how were they supposed to know that they were not the first Ouroboros to war against Moebius?)

Moebius: born from two worlds coming together in a destructive cataclysm, empowered by the desires of those who wished for an Endless Now in the face of their doom.

("Interlinking...you've been blessed with quite the talent." In the wake of Ethel and Cammuravi's mutual demise, Consuls O & P sauntered toward them without a care in the world, as though this were all a game. Turning into their Moebius forms, they joined together into a hideous amalgamation. "...this is the true form of Interlinking! Yes. The form in which two worlds become one. A far more refined form than this...half-assed one you've stumbled upon. Look upon us and tremble before perfection!")

Ouroboros: born from those of each world coming together in a form that was equally capable of destruction...yet also capable of direction, and purpose, able to seize the future.

Both were susceptible to mutual annihilation. Whether it was Moebius...

(Conuls O & P, so cocksure before, were on the verge of burning up; their combined form squealed from the inherent incompatibility of their form with existence. "That damn noise! Shut UP with your infernal beeping! Don't go telling us our time is up now! We were only just getting to the best part!" Their Moebius cores glowed, on the verge of rupturing; in their desperation, they tried to pull on the full might of their Interlink...and yet they had taken too long. Black fog surged about their forms, building up for an explosion that would annihilate the cliffside.)

...or Ouroboros...

(Sena and Lanz, in a desperate gambit to stop N, had been banking on their own annihilation. With a triumphant and defiant yell, their Ouroboros form — shining ever so brightly, a star amidst the swirling clouds of black fog — soared into the sky; had it not been for Consul X nullifying their Interlink, an Annihilation Event would have brightened the sky with a second sun.)

...neither were immune.

xxxx

"...in a way, Aionios is an Interlink of two worlds," muttered Noah, trying to piece together the oddities and paradoxes that kept this realm going in spite of its inherent contradictions. "If not for our self-imposed time limit, our Ouroboros Interlink would result in annihilation...it's the same for Aionios."

"The machinations of Moebius have kept pushing that time limit ever onward, even though the mere act of coexistence is enough for our worlds to destroy themselves," mused Mio, unable to keep the sound of defeat from her voice. "It's all so wretched, isn't it?"

"Yes. This world...is dying," murmured Noah. (That which was perpetually stagnant could only be dead; as an off-seer, the comparison of Aionios with a still corpse was all too apt.) "Moebius can't ignore that forever, no matter how much they want to."

"And yet...it still seems sad, doesn't it? That our world has to end."

(It was a binary that they would not have chosen: to perpetuate Aionios's existence, the Endless Now had to endure. To seize a new future would necessitate Origin — freed of Moebius — completing its reboot process at long last.)

"...but will it?" pondered Noah. "You said it yourself, didn't you? To Queen Nia."

("...even if we do get separated, someday we'll see each other again. We want you with us, Nia, in that future. How could we not? We need you." Stepping forward, Mio reached for Nia's hands. "Rather...please stay. Because...the connection we share, Nia...that's something...that can never be broken." The expression on the Queen's face was...full of longing and grief and joy. It was strange, how Mio's words elicited such.)

Mio blinked, her ears perking upward. "Oh. I guess I did, didn't I?"

"Everything that exists is reality...so even if this time comes to an end, it won't have been for nothing. Because when we join together..." He looked down at their hands, still gripping Lucky Seven's hilt. "...it's not as though we're unchanged by the experience. Even when the Interlink ends, I come away with a part of you...and you leave with a part of me."

"I guess...in a sense, when you put it that way...the Interlink is always going."

"Yeah. Except this one has no time limit. We'll both make sure...won't we?"

Mio smiled, putting his and her hearts at ease. "...then I guess that means the world won't truly end, will it?"

"It's like Melia said: this world is ours." Not the Endless Now, and not Aionios itself...but the future they chose for themselves, unburdened by past regrets. That was the world which was theirs, if they had but the will to grasp it.

They stared at the sky for a little bit longer, hand in hand; before long, their fight for the future would continue...but for now, they would enjoy the moment.

xxxx

Interlinking was a bizarre reflection of Aionios, in the end: a means of accessing power that would doom its users to destruction on a fundamental level.

As such, it was strangely fitting that Moebius would have still made use of it, in spite of that danger...because it only cemented the fear that the uncertain future represented in the minds of those that Z claimed to represent. That was the perfection Moebius professed to have, even if it was no such thing.

Yet power was power: without a will to guide it, it had no meaning in of itself. Interlinking was much the same.

("That future...I'll share it with you," said Nia, placing her hand atop Mio's. "It's not just yours...it's our future we'll invest in. For that, we need this world to end.")

Through their actions, even going far into the past, they had pointed the way towards the future of their worlds.

("Noah, Mio...though we came from different worlds, we were able to leave a life behind," said the echo of N, drifting away with M towards the blazing mass of self-loathing that Z had become. M added, "It was a hope for the future. Our hearts and our dreams intertwined...and we were given the chance to weave new life. And therefore...it's all good.")

As such, despite the uncertainty of what awaited them in the worlds reborn...despite their fear of the unknown, despite that little bit of Moebius which lingered within them...they would make their choice, despite how much it hurt.

(As the worlds prepared to separate once more — as time began to move forward again — they made a vow to each other. "I won't let go." Mio slowly reached for Noah's hand. "Not ever. I'll always be with you...our feelings, forever interlinked." Wherever they were, they swore; this oath was sealed with a kiss.)

Because they had faith in the future they had chosen for themselves, confident that this goodbye was not the end.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: During Chapter 3, during Ouroboros's First Trek through the Urayan Tunnels/

The Ruins of Seebu were oddly named, Mio couldn't help but think.

Having settled down at a campsite within a hollowed-out cylinder (no, not a cylinder: a ruined building, with a style unlike any she had seen before), Mio found herself gazing at the distant staircase that hung limply in the air, shattered long ago. Stairs are supposed to lead somewhere. Where did those lead to? And what had been the purpose of this place? Anything designed like this...had to have had a builder, right?

"Mio?"

Mio blinked, pulled from her internal musings by Taion. "Yes?"

"You seemed...lost in thought." The man's eyes were furrowed, brows barely hidden behind the rims of his glasses; yet despite everything, the worry within them was obvious.

It was strange, how Taion's professional concern had so quickly transformed into a genuine attachment. Despite the airs he put on, Mio sensed that he was fighting himself, more often than not, to stay the proper distance from them all.

(Yet he couldn't fool her. Mere nights before, as she had tossed and turned, her ears had picked up the surprisingly intimate conversation between Taion and Eunie over a cup of Sirius Anemone.)

(But bringing that up would be rude, so you're going to keep quiet.)

For someone who had only been assigned to her unit as a support member, Taion had quickly ended up forming bonds with them all...not that he would phrase it in such terms, as distant as he tried to make himself. (What was the reason for that? He didn't have a history with either her or Sena, so his past was still a bit of a mystery, beyond his past station at Colony Lambda.) And...she was going on in her head again, not answering his question. "Well...just thinking about this place, I guess. I haven't been to this part of the Urayan Mountains before." Had she ever actually been? Amidst all the missions and battles she had experienced in her life, it was certainly possible.

(But that only means thinking back to Colony Omega, and to Miyabi...and you would rather not dwell on that any more than you already do, right?)

Taion adjusted his glasses, looking about their location with a thoughtful frown. "Colony Lambda's interest in this section of the Urayan Mountains was largely focused on ether deposits, with not much thought put into the native architecture...but it is strange, now that you mention it. Yet more ruins that are out of place from what we've seen at the Colonies or our Castle; maybe there used to be a Castle situated here, long ago?"

That seemed wrong. "Maybe this 'City' that Guernica mentioned...I wonder if it's anything like this place."

"That would be a dour thought, if true."

Mio shook her head. "Not these ruins. But what they might have looked like...before. When people still lived here." Because there had to have been people, right?

"...hmm." Resting his chin on his fist, the curly-haired tactician hummed thoughtfully after a few moments of silence. "Hm. I think...my old mentor once mentioned something about this place. About a 'legend' she was once told: of Saffronias lining the interior of the Urayan Mountains, for as far as the eyes could see. Yet she had never seen it herself...I wonder where she had heard it from...?"

Mio's ears twitched out of curiosity. "Your mentor? I...don't believe you've ever mentioned her."

"...have I not?" he replied, with seeming surprise. "Hmm. I...suppose I haven't..." The silence between them became awkward, suddenly. (It felt akin to...shame? Tragedy? It was a sensation that felt familiar to her, like the sting of an insect into numb flesh.)

"...you don't have to say anything, Taion."

The man's eyes widened slightly; the motion was obscured by his glasses, but he seemed grateful for the gesture. "Maybe...another time."

xx

How little did they know that the very next day, the subject of Taion's mentor Nimue, Commander Isurd, and the tragedy of Lambda, would come roaring with a vengeance.

But that was a well known story by now, so there's no need to rehash it. Why go over old ground?

xx

Sighing, Taion regained his composure, looking back towards the ruins around them. "If there ever had been a time when Saffronias grew here...it would have been quite the sight."

"It's strange, the things we can afford to think about, now..." It only made the looming deadline of her Homecoming feel all the more acute. (Don't you dare think about it. You can't afford to think about it.) "...I think I'll turn in soon. I can take first watch."

Taion nodded, wishing her a good night as he returned towards the campfire, where the others in their group were pulling out sleeping bags. The light of the sun, filtering in through the great gap in the mountains, was already almost gone; soon, these expansive tunnels would be lit only by their little fire, the manifold channels of ether, and the strange growths and vegetation littered throughout that seemed to possess their own luminescence.



I wish I knew why this place seems...so sad. Quietly withdrawing her flute, she began to play a quiet tune.

It wasn't one of the off-seering melodies, nor was it any of the established pieces that had been provided for practice in her old training manual. It was a melancholy song that seemed to fit this place, in a way that she couldn't put into words.

xxxx

The events of the days to come would put this brief conversation to the wayside...and who could blame them?

It would not be until months later, when — in the midst of tracking down Origin shards alongside the awoken Queen Nia — that the subject of the Ruins of Seebu came up once more.

xxxx

/Time: During Chapter 7, before Ouroboros invades Origin/

Mio exhaled quietly as Krastor and Sandhu faded away into blue motes; though the Agnian assassins had attacked them without warning, sending them off was only...proper. (They had not spoken at all during the fight; had they been possessed by Moebius? Or were they improbable deserters who treated everyone and everything as an enemy? There was no way to know now, alas.)

(In the background, she could hear Lanz gripe. "Feh, those damn mudders got my arm good.")

("Oh quit your belly-achin'," retorted Nia, her hand shining with a watery shimmer. "Lemme at it and you'll be right as rain.")

As she and Noah put away their flutes, Mio's eyes turned back towards the Agnian Queen, her focus on healing the gash in Lanz's bicep. She...fought pretty hard.

Nia had been strangely distracted by this place, she now realized; the Queen had been looking about with an expression that evoked nostalgia and loss in equal measure. It was only upon arriving at this isolated platform, where two powerful assassins had been lying in wait, that her melancholy had transformed into fearsome intent. Does this place...remind of her of something? No, that's wrong: she lived in the world before Aionios. She might very well have been here.

With a level of tact that she partially credited to M's numerous memories, Mio waited until they had set up camp within the same hollow tower as before.

("Meh-meh, Zoka must be travel through time. Why else would Zoka see you again?")

(Eunie tilted her head with confusion. "Has it ever occurred to you that we could just be passin' through?")

("Awfully inefficient means of travel, unless...you desire to buy from Party of Zoka so badly that you come all the way to Urayan Tunnels for my goods!")

("Nah, think we'll pass, mate.")

("Meh-meh? Such stinginess that I've never observed in all my years!")

Whilst Nia was at the edge, looking towards the long and empty expanse of the great gap in the mountains, Mio walked to her side. "Nia?"

The older woman glanced at her, unsurprised by her presence (though, with such long ears, it was truly a miracle that anyone could surprise her at all). "Yes, Mio?"

"...this place is called the 'Ruins of Seebu.' But for some reason, the name never really seemed to fit..." Looking back at the odd wreckage, she continued, "I was wondering...if you had any insight into this place? What it used to be? Stuff like that..."

"...Fonsa Myma."

Mio blinked, looking towards the Queen with shock. The woman, however, wasn't looking at her: those yellow eyes were focused entirely on the hanging platform where they had just fought the assassins. "Excuse me?"

"I don't know where 'Seebu' came from...but I've always known this place as Fonsa Myma: a grand city, unlike any you've ever seen."

...a 'city'? "As in, there's more than one City?"

Nia impulsively loosed an unladylike snort, before covering it up with a delicate cough. "Well...there was a time where there were as many cities as there are Colonies. And smaller versions, called 'towns', and even tinier ones called 'villages'. This place...it used to be beautiful. But now..." The woman glanced at her with a look Mio couldn't quite categorize: simultaneously sad and joyous in so many different ways.

"The Urayan Mountains...you told us that they weren't so 'picturesque.' What did you mean by that? Because you make the ruins of this...Fonsa Myma..." (It felt right, to say those words; they fit this place like Seebu never could. Seebu seemed like an imposter now, but why?) "...you make it sound so lovely."

"Ah. I guess you've caught me." The Queen raised a hand over the crystal in her chest, fist clenched as though she meant to hide it. "Well...it's complicated. I have good memories of this place...and bad ones as well. All of them are important in their own special way...but I try to focus on the good over the bad, even though the bad helped shape me into the woman I am today..." Nia looked back towards her, with that same painful expression...

xxxx

In another place, and another time: when Uraya had still been a nation, and the interior of the Titan had still been alive, joined though it was with the land of the new Elysium...

"Hang on tight, love!"

"I'm hangin' on, daddy!"

"One...two...THREE!"

Childish yells of delight — one from a man who still bore the heart of an idealistic boy, another from a young girl with fluffy ears — echoed through the tunnel to Olethro Ruins as they skated down a watery channel. The Great Stairway blew past at high speeds, as air and droplets of water rushed by their faces; the man's reinforced boots slid along the slick stone as though it were ice, whilst the little girl in his arms held on for all she was worth.

"We're nearin' the jump! Ready?"

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Three...two...one...alley-OOP!"

The two soared through the air, landing on yet another channel across an open patch of brick and masonry; the slide continued onward, the duo happily cheering as they soared towards the capital proper.

"Another one, daddy!"

"I see it! Here we GO!"

Another jump, and another slide: faster they went, until Fonsa Myma proper came into sight.

"Hold on!"

The girl did as instructed, hanging on with all her might. The man's arms protectively wrapped around her as he jumped one last time; however, as his feet met the ground, the momentum was just a bit too much-

"Agh, ogh, egh!"

The girl merely felt a bit topsy-turvy, shielded as she was by the man's torso and his mighty arms; when they finally tumbled to a stop, she uncurled herself with a grin, staring at her father's grinning yet woozy face. "Let's do it again!"

"Eh...think I'll need your mother to take care of daddy's booboos before we try again..."

A third voice interrupted their fun. "And you think it'll be that easy, yeah?"

The two looked towards the long-eared woman in flowing robes, eyes flashing with maternal indignation. "Ah, hey Nia-"

"Don't you 'hey Nia' me, you absolute spanner!" she ranted, impulsively healing him regardless. "By the Architect, what the hell possessed you to do something so bloody stupid-"

The little girl piped up. "I wanted daddy to show me the big slide, and he did! And it was fun! I wanna do it again!"

The man chuckled, placed his hands around the girl's torso to keep her still. "Just a bit of harmless fun."

"Harmless, eh? That bruise on your back says otherwise! You know we have that meeting with Raqura tonight, you dunce!"

Brushing past the reminder about their evening plans, he focused on the first bit. "It's harmless compared to a lot of the other stuff we once dealt with. Our little kitten likes to ask questions, you know? Besides...you know I'd never let anything hurt her."

Nia's eyes softened, looking at the man with frustrated fondness. "...I know." Finally, she looked down at their daughter with an exasperated expression. "Ya shouldn't be pulling your daddy along into doing silly things, especially when he knows better."

The girl pouted. "But I'm just doing what me and my sisters always do, though! Like that thing last week where-"

Seamlessly interrupting her, Nia said, "And we're gonna need to have a long talk with Pyra and Mythra about that...right, dear?" she finished, punctuating her statement with a sharp look and a grin full of pointy teeth.

For some reason, the man looked less confident than before. "...you know I love you, right? You, and all you guys?"

"Nice try, pal." she replied, shooting him down with a smile.

It was a memory of halcyon days...

xxxx

...but it was quickly overshadowed by a sad smile and a shake of the head. "But the good memories are as painful as the bad ones, I suppose...just in different ways."

After all her experiences, Mio had an inkling as to what that sensation felt like. With an empathic nod and not an ounce of pity, she — unknowingly paralleling her conversation with Taion all those months ago in this very same spot — said, "You...don't have to say anything, Nia."

"...thank you. Maybe...another time."

Sensing that the moment had come and passed, Mio retreated towards the campfire, sneaking one last glance at Nia's back — unbowed, despite the weight of so many years and burdens — before walking along. Fonsa Myma...this place used to be so full of life. There was once a time where...it didn't seem so sad.

Maybe a time would come, when life would once more flourish; a time where it would once more sing its own song?

xxxx

This conversation would bear unexpected fruit, not too far into the future: overlooking the grander ruins of the Maktha Wildwood, Nia would speak of the tragedy of her old world, and how it had led to the creation of Aionios.

Yet, at the end, the people that Ouroboros had grown into would not be denied.

"We might get hurt...and someday, we'll be gone. But we have to keep moving forward, in spite of all that. That's what it means to live. Right, Nia?"

At this, Nia — in spite of her memories of a time where life had reigned in places long dead — could not help but smile. "...yes. Exactly right."

xxxx

Chapter Text

Taion was not the only person he knew who wore glasses: Lieutenant Zakir at Colony Gamma, for example, and likewise Lieutenant Yuzet at Colony 30. They also seemed a fairly common accessory for the Nopon, as well.

He hadn't really questioned their purpose: as he had gotten older, his eyesight had degraded to the point where he needed corrective lenses.

But they were quite an oddity, in a world like Aionios.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 2, after the defeat of Consul K, and the liberation of Colony 4/

/Colony 4 Barracks, Eagus Wilderness, Fornis Region/

Sitting upon a sleeping cot in the dust-filled tent, Taion looked at his glasses with a scowl. Again?

"Whoa. You all right there?"

Taion looked up at Lanz, who seemed somewhat blurry in his sight. "Of course. Why would I not be?"

Lanz, having just returned from the Colony baths, tilted his head with confusion. "You look like a Skeeter got in your shoe."

"...well, if you must know, I've run out of tissues." Eagus Wilderness was a blasted mudder of a biome; he had already gone through his whole supply of tissue paper trying to keep his glasses free of dust and debris. "This environment is ill-suited for keeping these clean."

"...what exactly are those for, anyhow? Haven't run into anyone who's ever had those back at our Colony."

The honest curiosity in Lanz's voice quelled Taion's impulsive retort. (He needed no reminders as to the reality of physical defects or abnormalities.) "If you must know, they're a corrective tool. As I get closer to my tenth term, my vision has gotten worse."

"Oh come off it; can't the healers or the medics take care of it?"

"It is not the sort of condition that can be rectified with curative ether," he replied, placing his smudged glasses back on his face; at least this way, Lanz's expression was visible. "It is simply something I...have to live with."

"...seriously?" Now the tall lunkhead seemed truly perplexed. "Doesn't...that seem odd, to you?"

"In what way?"

"Well," he said, plopping down into one of the empty cots. "Mio's ears, and Sena's chest doodads-"

"What kind of a term is 'doodad'?"

"Shut it and let me finish," Lanz griped. "Anyhow, I had never really thought about those kinds of things, before. That doesn't make an Agnian that much different from a Kevesi, given Eunie's wings and my skin. But a person needing glasses just because their eyesight's getting worse?"

"Could you kindly get to the point?"

"I mean...ain't it snuffin' weird? If we're born to fight, then why would our eyesight be getting worse from anything that's not a battlefield injury?"

...well, that was certainly a valid observation. (The fact that Lanz of all people had made it was somewhat galling.) "That...is an excellent question. Unfortunately, separated as we are from the Castles, it's not one I'll be getting an answer to anytime soon." Rising to his feet, Taion remarked, "I'll see if Oleshandra is willing to part with any of her stock." The paper quality for the medical supplies shouldn't be that different between Keves and Agnus, right? "And...what are you doing?"

"Tagging along."

"Why?"

Lanz looked at him as though he were the idiot. "Heard from Sena about how she and Mio got accosted by someone with a grudge. Hard not to notice the way some of the soldiers look at you Agnians. And no offense, but you look pretty wormy."

"Are you doubting my combat proficiency? After everything that's happened?"

"Spark no, but it's not like they know what those Mondo doodads can pull off."

"My Mondo are not 'doodads'-"

"And besides, if your glasses are that dirty, you might not see a sucker punch comin'. And that'd be a snuffin' shame, you know?"

At this point, protesting further was only going to give him more of a headache. (Not that you're willing to admit that the gesture is appreciated.) "...do as you will," relented Taion, giving himself up to the fact that Lanz was going to be his impromptu bodyguard for the time being.

xxxx

Regardless, he had resigned himself to the need for them.

As such, he had to be flexible with regards to keeping them cleaned.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 4, after liberating Colony Tau/

/High Maktha Wildwood, Pentelas Region/

The humidity in the Maktha Wildwood was a right mudder, Taion didn't say out loud.

But he certainly felt it. He had already gone through all of his tissues, this time due to the wretched humidity of the Wildwood. Not even Colony Lambda had ever been so consistently misty, and it spent most of its time parked around a sparking waterfall!

Still, he couldn't help but be observant. Thus, did he inquire. "Excuse me, Manana."

"Hmm? Taion want something?" asked the fuzzy chefypon.

(In the midst of their foraging for food, he had seen Mio and Eunie's conversation by the bright fig tree from afar. Bringing that up, however, would have been rude; after all, it hadn't been his place to butt in.)

(You're not surprised in the slightest that Eunie managed to get Mio to open up a little; she had a talent for that, it seemed.) "Well, you wouldn't happen to have a tissue I could use, would you?" he asked, pointing at his somewhat foggy lenses.

Manana promptly pulled out a red-and-white patterned handkerchief without a word.

xxxx

That being said, despite the difficulties that came with having glasses, they came with...some advantages. Not everything was completely negative, in the practical order.

Taion had simply had difficulties finding enough 'pros' to outweigh the numerous 'cons.'

He wouldn't have been able to articulate a single positive if he had been asked.

Not until a certain fellow from the City with the moniker of 'Storyspinner' had been the catalyst for an...interesting conversation.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, during Melia Antiqua's trip to the City/

/Mitia Lookout, The City, Underneath Cadensia Region/



The mood had become rather morbid once Eunie had inquired about the nature of growing old, and the difficulties therein. The answer from Storyspinner, Taleb, had not been inspiring on the surface.

So much so that Taion couldn't help but ask, "Eunie, are you all right?"

His question prompted an immediate response. "I just wanna know what it's all about. Growing old. There's folk out there who get to live so much longer than us. And they still choose to fight." With hands on her hips, Eunie's tone became progressively more melancholy. "It just feels like I'm always taking a back seat. Like I'm getting left behind...but I wanna be there with you guys, even if it's just in spirit..."

The sentiment behind his partner's words were so heartfelt that Taion found it difficult to speak. So much so, that Noah, Mio, and Melia took turns reassuring her. (Did she truly fear being left behind? Did she truly dread being left alone, when all was said and done?)

(Quite frankly, you've had one too many thoughts lately about dying for her sake, if it meant taking a killing blow. Yet you've never pondered how that would make her feel, have you?)

Taion was jolted back to reality by Eunie's voice, quivering with untold emotion. "...don't suppose you've got any tissues on you?"

His hand impulsively gripped around the tissue packet in one of his pockets. The conversation continued on unabated, with Taion unable (nay, unwilling) to contribute any further.

Taleb's words seemed a fitting capstone to their meeting. "Life's a cruel journey from one end to the other. You only get one chance to walk it. But if there's one thing that gives it all meaning, it's love."

For all they had learned since first coming to the City — about life, the nature of human existence, and the artificial constraints imposed by the world upon those born from the cradles — that was a topic Taion still couldn't wrap his head around. It just seemed way too big to properly categorize, and dissect. Yet...

(And yet 'what', you fool?)

...yet he still felt a certain impulse to do something. Thus, as the party followed Melia back down the stairway, he found himself walking slower to match Eunie's pace. She was more sedate than before...and rightfully so.

That's why he didn't hesitate when he pulled out the packet containing his last tissue. "Here."

The girl blinked, bright blue eyes looking at him with the impulsive befuddlement that was so characteristic of her. "Eh?"

"You said you needed tissues, right?" he explained. "Take it. I needed to resupply anyhow."

"...hmph," huffed Eunie, her lips contorting into a coy smirk. "Don't you need these to make sure you don't go blind?"

Taion adjusted his frames out of habit. "Well, it's not as though my glasses are dirty now. Besides...tissues are practical."

"...yeah. Guess they are."

He turned away, not looking as Eunie dabbed at her eyes. She was oddly prideful about certain things...but he knew how that felt. He certainly wasn't one to talk.

xxxx

So, perhaps it wasn't exactly a positive for wearing glasses, per se. It was more akin to a 'pro' in favor of carrying tissues around.

Still...

xxxx

/The Very Next Day/

After having spent the night in the City, everyone was replenishing their supplies — and being treated to a rather large feast in Melia's honor at Michiba Canteen — in the time they had before returning the Queen to Keves Castle.

It was during this time when, in the midst of perusing a traderpon's wares, Taion felt tapping on his shoulder. Looking up, he blinked at Eunie's presence. "Ah. You're back from visiting Rozana already?"

His partner nodded; when Ouroboros had all gone shopping this morning, Eunie had insisted on seeking out Gray's wife for 'something important.' "Yeah."

"Did...she have what you were looking for?"

"She helped me find it, yeah." Fiddling with the tip of one of her wings — a nervous tic, he had noticed; why was she anxious? — the girl asked, "Say, mind if I hold your glasses?"

"Er...what?" What? "Why?"

"It's not for long. I just wanna hold 'em. Not like you're gonna fall over just standin' here, right?"

"...I suppose not." He couldn't fathom why she wanted them, but...he trusted her. (In the back of his mind, words from Agnus Castle — "Now I've got a reliable guy...to stand by me, so..." — roared past, without rhyme or reason.) As such, he removed his glasses, holding them out for Eunie. "I'd advise against wearing them; they're made for my eyes. Sena tried once, and she said it gave her a headache." Contrary to expectations, she didn't put them on; instead, she kept staring at him, with a level of focus that he could see even if her form was somewhat blurry. "...Eunie?"

"...it may sound weird...but you don't look like 'you' without these." Without asking for permission, she slipped his glasses back onto his face. "There, that's more like it. That's 'Taion' to me."

(Even if Moebius were there to threaten his life, he would have found it impossible to say a single word.)

Taking advantage of his stunned silence, Eunie pulled out a small package; it was a transparent parcel, containing a white handkerchief rimmed with orange(?), adjacent to a small spray bottle. "Here. For cleaning them. So you don't have to keep buying tissues."

"...oh. You..." Indulging in his own nervous tic, Taion pushed his glasses up. "You didn't have to."

"Well, I know how 'tissues are practical' and junk, but we're not exactly gonna find any Nopon Caravans in Origin. Wouldn't do for you to run out of tissues on our way to Z, you know?"

(At the periphery of the conversation, the traderpon sighed; he knew a lost sale when he saw one...)

The simple logic of her motivation was enough for Taion to latch onto, because otherwise he didn't know what he was going to say. "I appreciate it. Thank you, Eunie. I'll try to think of a way to pay you back-"

The woman's scoff was characteristic enough, as was her lighthearted slap on his shoulder. "Ah, you clod; you don't pay people back for gifts. Rozana told me so! So just take it."

Once again, Taion found himself mute.

Seemingly pleased by his perplexed silence, Eunie walked away with a cheeky grin. "Come on! There might not be any food left at the canteen."

"Um...right..." Taion watched her walk away, stuck in a trance...that is, until he heard someone clearing their throat. Looking to the side, his eyes widened with surprise. "Gray?"

The cloaked gunman was staring intently at him, his deadset expression challenging him. Somehow. But to what? "..."

"...is...there something I can help you with?"

The old warrior simply shook his head, gruffly said "Clueless. Can't see what's in front of you," and then walked away.

"...wait, what?" sputtered Taion, fighting the urge to pursue Gray. "What did you mean by that?! Hey!"

xxxx

...he supposed that was one positive, in the grand scheme of things.

To Eunie, his glasses were part of what made him 'Taion.'

Somehow...that was more than enough to outweigh any and all 'cons' he could think of.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 7, after the final battle with Consul N/

With N vanquished — in more than one sense of the word — the task of freeing the Kevesi Queen returned to mind for Ouroboros.

Alas, it seemed as though she were ahead of the game in that regard; as though their presence were the key to a lock, the bindings containing her began to fade, burning away into shimmering crystals of ether. With equally pretty grace, the Black Queen of Keves floated down, softly settling onto her feet.

Calmly, serenely, Melia Antiqua opened her eyes for the first time in untold millennia. "I had...a long dream...a very, very long dream..."

xxxx

The Queen spoke to Ouroboros of many things: of Z, of Moebius, the nature of the world, of the choice awaiting them, and what they had to do next.

In another place, and another time, Melia might have utilized her ether with the ease of a veteran: a slumbering giant that had finally awoken to conquer what was rightfully hers.

However, given the extent of her imprisonment...it would have been all too reasonable, for the slumbering giant to still be groggy, and weary after centuries and centuries of inactivity.

xxxx

"I shall return to the Castle, and free the soldiers from the Flame Clock's bondage," stated Melia, looking at them with something that felt close to joy. (Finally, this whole wretched stasis would come to an end.) "Otherwise, their lives will only feed Z's power."

"Nice thinking, your Majesty!" exclaimed Lanz with pride. "Countin' on ya!"

Speaking as someone who had just had a thought, Sena stammered, "Oh, uh, will you need an escort...?"

With a wry little smile and a challenging tone, Melia replied, "I would think not. Might you have forgotten who I am?" With a thought, she summoned World Ender, her trusty ether staff; with motion born of long practice, she prepared to focus her ether such that it would teleport her to...someplace more bright and less dreary, and why was the floor getting closer-?



Steadfast hands caught her; familiar voices were suddenly muted to her ears.

"-your Majesty!"

"What's happening to her-?"

The blurry blob with an afro held up a small spherical terminal, scanning her form with a frown. "Ether depletion, it seem."

Ether...depletion...? How...bloody ironic...

(Even if it were coarse and somewhat crude, Nia's manner of speech seemed so very appropriate for expressing her inward frustration.)

xx

"Sparks' sake, she's sucking up all the ether I can throw at her!" exclaimed Eunie, her Gunrod spinning in place as green aura filtered into the comatose Queen's form.

"Incredible," murmured Taion, his Mondo arranged in stationary positions around Melia's body. "Her capacity for absorbing ether is beyond anything I've ever witnessed before...!"

"...what are we going to do?" asked Sena, looking plaintively at Noah and Mio. "I mean...we can't leave her like this..."

Lanz grimaced, gently cradling the unconscious woman — even supporting her head, because she was the snuffin' Queen of Keves! — in his arms. "I can carry her back to Samon's ship-"

"Absolutely not," interrupted Mio, pulling rank on her younger peers. "This is Origin; it was already difficult just making it this far, and there's no telling what still lies between us and Z. Besides..." Looking down at the ancient woman with a melancholy expression, she added, "She's been imprisoned here, for so long...she probably needs medical attention."

Noah inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled, and spoke. "Then...as much as I don't want to...we need to leave Origin for now. The attack needs to be delayed, until we can see to her Majesty's welfare." (It was galling on a level he had difficulty fathoming. They were so close...!)

"But how we get her out of here?" asked Manana, flapping her wings with worry. "Mr. Samon's ship can't fly!"

Reaching for his Iris, Noah tapped at his temple. "I'll find someone who will."

xxxx

/Meanwhile, beneath the City, in the hidden war machine known only as Gilgamesh/

"The time has come for the City to mobilize! Keves, Agnus — support them all!" ordered Monica Vandham, standing at the bridge of the City's greatest military weapon: a unique Levnis with armaments and capabilities unlike any other. However, today was not its day to shine; the moment she was about to give the order, Noah's alert came out over an open channel. "Wait...what...?"

"To any forces that are allied with Ouroboros: this is Noah! We have freed the rightful Queen of Keves, Melia Antiqua, from her long imprisonment! But she's in need of immediate medical treatment. Please respond to my Iris as soon as you can!"

It was a recorded message, set to repeat at a regular interval; to no one's surprise the Kevesi forces were the first to stop firing at Origin, as fealty to their royal monarch overrode all other considerations. It didn't take long before the message went out to Agnus as well, since they also stopped firing.

Cursing under her breath, Monica opened a channel to her daughter's Levnis. "Ghondor! How close are you-?"

"Quit screeching like a Gulkin!" retorted Ghondor, her expression set into its usual cute yet angry scowl. "I'm already on my way to their coordinates. We'll be out faster than Travis tryin' ta hold his beer."

Monica huffed — seriously, that slight against her Lieutenant was uncalled for (even if the snickers of the nearby crew meant it hit quite close to home) — crossing her arms as their grand plans to attack Origin came to a screeching halt. "What a mess..." Yet, despite the sudden lull, her eyes narrowed on something else: something much more unusual that was now displaying on the numerous holographic screens. "Wait...what the...but why...?"

xxxx

It had been a mercifully short trek to the South Shell Passage; with Origin's segmented hull rotating slowly, their view of the sky and the ring of Aionios's great landmass could be seen. Everyone kept their eyes peeled for enemy forces, forming a protective ring around Lanz as he carried Melia.

Except...there was nothing coming after them.

"I don't like this," growled Eunie, aiming her rifle nervously. "We practically pulled our feathers out getting down here, and now the locals have snuffed off?? Somethin' stinks."

"Lack of feathers notwithstanding, I have to agree," remarked Taion, purposely ignoring Eunie's eye-roll. "My Mondo aren't picking up any hostiles."

"Maybe they're waiting for us to let our guard down?" suggested Sena, ready to smack anything with her trusty hammer.

Mio's ears suddenly twitched. "Hey," she said, looking up. "A City Levnis, incoming!"

Though they waited for something horrible to happen...nothing did. The multi-legged machine set down, opening a side hatch to reveal the interior. "Hurry up, ya dags!" echoed Ghondor's voice from the vessel's exterior speakers. "Get her on board; you've got a job to finish!"

Lanz suddenly grimaced, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Hold on now, aren't they gonna be sitting ducks on there? What if this is what those Moebius mudders want us to do?"

"...shoot them down in the air, over the open sea? It would be an effective tactic," murmured Taion.

"Then we can't just send the Queen off by herself, can we?!" protested Eunie.

Noah, resigning himself to the fact that their long-awaited confrontation with Z would be delayed for the time being, nodded in agreement. "No. We can't."

That was all Sena needed. "No can do, Ghondor! We're coming along!"

"...'scuse me?!"

xx

There was really nothing to be said, in the face of their reasonable objections.

Hence, Ouroboros found themselves hanging onto the edge of the Levnis, merged into their Kevesi-dominant forms. Lanz was ready to shield the Levnis from any energy blasts; Noah was ready to cut down any enemy vessel that dared to get near; Eunie was ready and very willing to snipe.

However...nothing happened.

Shortly after Keves and Agnus had ceased their assault on Origin, the great machine's defenses had gone silent. (Truly, this was what had rendered Monica dumbfounded...and why not?)

"What the spark is goin' on?" growled Lanz, his titanic form slowly beginning to heat up. "Why ain't they shootin' at us?"

"Hey, don't complain!" retorted Sena's voice.

"...this is utterly baffling," said Taion's voice.

"I mean, we're still in range. Why did they stop shooting?" asked Eunie.

"I...I honestly wish I knew," wondered Mio's voice. "Noah?"

Noah grimaced, his Ouroboros Core slowly beginning to beep; it wouldn't be long before they would have to cancel the Interlink. "What are Moebius thinking...?"

xxxx



Indeed: what were they thinking?

A shot from Origin would have been enough to vaporize the Levnis, Ghondor, the comatose Queen Melia, and everyone on board.

Ouroboros might have survived, had such an attack occurred.

Yet Origin, almost with courtesy, refrained from retaliation so long as the rebellious forces of Keves, Agnus, and the City refused to fight.

So why?

xxxx

/The Amphitheater, Origin's Core/

"You seem curious, X," observed Z, sitting calmly within one of the many chairs.

"We're gonna regret letting those twerps go," X growled, her foot impatiently tapping against the floor.

(There was a not insignificant number of voices who agreed with her.) "Regret implies we would wish for a different choice than that which has already been set in stone." Glancing to his other side, he inquired, "And you, Y?"

The more innovative of his avatars seemed characteristically thoughtful. "It has been so very long since Melia Antiqua was free of Origin's tender embrace. It would be quite intriguing, to see her interact with what the world has become in her absence."

(There were also many voices who agreed with him.) "Aionios is as it has always been: an eternal cycle of decay and rejuvenation, empowered by the lives of its inhabitants, and the flow of their desires. All else is accidental."

X audibly scoffed. "Sure. Doesn't change the fact that she took her Key with her. N called her the 'fulcrum of Origin' for a reason."

"And yet if a key does not turn the lock it was made for, is it still fit for purpose?" countered Y. "She may have her Key, but Origin has been unlocked to Moebius for untold ages. The Queen would have to return to our humble abode to turn the lock shut...and therein lies the beauty of the trap."

"One way or another, the flow inevitably returns everything to Origin," said Z, gazing at the movie screen; old memories of a world long gone were playing, wherein Melia was front and center. "So it will be with her. But in the meantime...let us see how she reacts to this world. Will despair make her amenable to the Endless Now? Or will she resort to her usual defiance, and fail in the end?" (All of the other voices were in agreement: the Queen of Keves was too interesting to simply shoot down in such an ignominious way; wouldn't it be far better, to let her toil for a time, so that the futility of her actions would become seared into her mind and soul?) "We shall be witnesses, one way or another...and bask in the life she exudes."

If nothing else...it promised to be anything but boring.

xxxx

/Keves Castle/



In the dead of night, Melia Antiqua finally woke up.

As she quietly took stock of her location — ah, the old medical ward; has the decor really not changed after all these years; how long have I been out; how many cylinders worth of ether did they drain? — she resisted the urge to try and sneak out. What did I expect? That I would utilize an advanced Art after being out of practice for millennia? What arrogance. Rising up in the small medical bed, she realized that she had been left in her royal garb; a not unreasonable decision, given the ether IV drip connected to her left arm. (Or, perhaps, whoever had seen to her medical needs had been mortified at the thought of removing her garments? People's interactions with royalty could be odd, at times.) Even so...she felt filthy. "I've been wearing this dress for centuries and centuries," she whispered to herself with annoyance.

With little warning, a small tablet sitting on a nearby nightstand begin to blink with light. Melia absentmindedly picked it up — thankful that someone had had the foresight to leave a communications terminal with her — only to smile impulsively at the identity of the sender. As she activated it, she quietly said, "It seems to be rather early in the morning."

The image of Queen Nia smiled wryly, even as the old Flesh Eater yawned. "You picked a rather...tranquil time to finally awaken, your Majesty."

There was something different about hearing Nia's voice with her own ears, instead of through her simulacrum. It was nostalgic, heartening, and somewhat sad all at once. "I did not mean to be an inconvenience," she murmured. "What has transpired since I was rescued by Noah and the others?"

"Never one to rest, as ever." Nia shook her head, a stifled sigh of exasperation slipping by. "I know quite a few things about what ether depletion can do to those who are reliant on it. For one such as you? Ether cylinders are merely a stopgap measure; it would be best for you to regenerate your ether flow naturally. And that will take time, given how long you've been imprisoned."

"...an unfortunate reality, but one I must accept," she forced herself to admit. It looks like it'll take some time for me to regain enough of my strength to sunder the hold of the Flame Clock over my people. Alas, there was little point in pushing back on that point; as such, she decided to focus on something nicer. "...Nia, Queen of Agnus. I am in your debt, across the centuries." She meant this truly; Nia had kept up the fight for so very long after she had been captured by Moebius. (And she knew a thing or two of what it was like, to shoulder a burden by your lonesome.)

Shaking her head, Nia warmly replied, "Nonsense. Don't mention it. I simply did what needed doing, and entrusted the rest to the right people."

The tone of Melia's voice did not match the one she had long associated with in her mind. Is she...? "I see that you're still...affecting that elocution."

Rather than acting indignant (as Melia had halfway feared; after so long, she wouldn't blame Nia for feeling bitter), Nia simply smirked. "Oh my, it befits me not?" she said, increasing the 'poshness' by several dials.

(The fact that Nia was still able and willing to joke about such a thing was good enough, in Melia's opinion. Truly, the people of Agnus could not have asked for a better Queen.) "Do not hide your stripes."

"...all right then, Melia," relented Nia, "We'll have to make sure to thrash those Moebius goons once you're finally on your feet again."

As if a switch had been flipped, Nia's native accent came through; the intensity of it elicited a smile from Melia. "Gladly. Together...which is why I'm hoping you won't mind filling me in on what's happened whilst I was asleep."

"Oh dear. You talking about your really long sleep, or the recent one after you nearly fell on your face?"

"...I see Ouroboros have filled you in on recent events," dryly remarked Melia. "Let's focus on that one then. I'm sure my guards will eventually be checking in."

"Indeed. So, it's been five days since you were rescued from Origin..." In that time, as Nia explained, quite a bit had happened: the sudden silence of Origin's defenses; the retreat of various Colonies from the world's interior edge to lick their proverbial wounds; the unwillingness of Noah and his teammates to depart Keves Castle, until new affairs in the City had pulled them away; and so on and so forth. It engaged the administrative 'thinking muscles' that Melia had missed, so involved were they in the acts of royal jurisdiction. "...and I've been busy gathering ether in preparation for finally sundering the Flame Clock for all of Agnus."

"Oh? You haven't yet done so? I assumed you were of a similar mind as me."

"Yes, well..." Nia nervously scratched at the back of one of her furry ears. "...during my brief travels with Mio and her friends, we ran into a right nasty blighter called Kilocorn Grandeps. Came close to dying several times, so we did!"

"...I assume that is a monster of unusual strength and size?"

"Imagine an Ardun with more armor than a Ferronis. And it's as big as one of those Face Mechon you once told me about...maybe even bigger."

"Ah. I see..." Sighing, Melia leaned back, gazing at the ceiling with a melancholy expression. (For as much as things had changed, so many other things had stayed the same.) "...tomorrow will be a very busy day."

"You'll be fine. Once you're back up to speed, we'll be knocking on Origin's door like nobody's business...and we'll finally put an end to all of this."

"That is my wish, Nia," murmured Melia, ready to turn back in for at least a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep. I hope I still have the strength to grasp it...

(However, some things would have to take priority...like hygiene.)

(Tomorrow, you are going to take a very long bath. And you're finally going to change into something more suitable for the work you need to accomplish.)

A Queen's duty was never done.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Several Terms before the Main Plot/

/Colony Delta, Far Western Fornis Region/

Cammuravi's hair was on fire all the time, now. His commander had likened it to him finally awakening his 'fighting spirit', whatever that meant. The commander had always had a peculiar fighting philosophy: gung-ho and light on tactics, preferring instead to trust in the power of one's self and one's comrades, even if it came to your own detriment.

Nonetheless, his commander was the greatest warrior in their colony; as such, his philosophy was one he tried to imbibe, as a sponge to water. Without a 'Way' to call your own, you were dry, brittle: easily broken if pressure is applied. Yet with a 'Way' to guide you...then no matter how much pressure was applied, you would bend without breaking.

Although...a sponge was not exactly an inspiring metaphor. Maybe I should think of better phrases?

It was something to focus on honing, much like his skills with a spear. (He had been forced to use only the 'dummy' varieties for practice; his Blade kept setting the training grounds on fire, even when all combustible material had been removed.)

That's why, when word came of a new rising star in the ranks of Keves, he paid attention with all his worth. "Ethel?"

"Yeah," remarked one of his squadmates. "Set up some crazy ambush and took out Colonies Kappa, Pi, and Rho in one fell swoop, with only a hundred soldiers. Tricked a bunch of their units into killing each other in the crossfire."

"I see." That spoke of dishonorable tactics and underhanded tomfoolery...yet, three Colonies at once was no small feat. The prospect of facing such a combatant made him clench his fists with...excitement? Dread? He wasn't sure. "Perhaps we will face her in battle, one day."

"Who knows? Knowing our commander, it's almost a certainty."

Cammuravi looked east, towards the distant peaks of the Great Hand's fingers, looming like mountains over the Fornis Region. Ethel...where will our destined battlefield be? Our are we fated to pass without ever crossing swords?

Regardless...he would remain true to his fledgeling Way.

xxxx

It had been close to a thousand years since the Homecoming ritual had been introduced to Aionios.

Its predecessor ritual — an execution in all but name — had gone on for a long time before that, as well.

The point of such trivia? To attest to the fact that Colonies had risen and fallen, over and over; these were not the first Colonies named Kappa, Pi, and Rho. They had been destroyed before; they would likely rise again, before long.

On and on, went the Endless Now into the interminable past of Aionios; so much so that it was hard to tell just how long their world had existed. Events which had been notorious in times past — the capturing of the true Queen of Keves; the emergence of the first Ouroboros; the introduction of Off-Seers — were now elements of myth, or completely forgotten in their entirety. When a single generation would die out within ten years, history was easy to ignore.

In the face of fighting to live, and living to fight...the past mattered little to the soldiers of Keves and Agnus.

What would be valued, in the face of that reality?

xxxx

/Dannagh Desert, Fornis Region/

A sandstorm had forced the Colony Delta platoon to take shelter within a cave; such was the storm's ferocity that it interfered with the scanners on their Levnises.

It was for that reason they were caught off guard, when — without warning — several squads of Kevesi soldiers entered the cavernous expanse, apparently having had the same idea as they to avoid the blistering sands.

Chaos ensued.

What luck, Cammuravi thought, that they all belonged to Colony 4; what fortune, that Ethel — she who had been given the moniker of 'Silvercoat' — was at their head!

Fighting to live, and living to fight: every soldier in that cave embodied that reality.

Blades flew, and crimson motes rose.

No quarter was given, and none was asked.

Before the hour was up, all but the leaders of their respective platoons were dead, rendered into husks. Only Cammuravi and Ethel remained to fight.

Her ferocity is unquestionable, distantly mused Cammuravi as he used the staff of his Blade to block the downward slashes from Ethel's twin rapiers. She is cunning and wily...yet her strikes lack any hint of deceit. That only made her destruction of a triad of Agnian Colonies more impressive then; what possible strategy had such a clear-sighted warrior used to conquer her enemies? I want to know; my Way demands nothing less! Roaring, he smashed his spear into the ground, unleashing a spiraling column of flame that forced Ethel to back away; despite the pain of his own fire, he thrust through-!

-Ethel parried his spear with one sword, rearing her left arm back to take his head with the other blade-

-and ducked, using the momentum of the parry to spin; his leg struck at Ethel's ankles. With a surprised yelp, his opponent fell backwards. Now! Howling, he reared his spear, ready to end this...

(Do you really want it to end?)

...and it was that moment of sudden indecision, so strange and out of character, that forced him to stop. The tip of his spear hovered in front of Ethel's face; all it would take was a single nudge, and he would pierce her flesh, immolating her with his fire.

Her expression — eyes wide with animalistic fear, lips stretched into a thin grimace: a soldier ready to accept her end, even if as a warrior she did not want to lose — said volumes.

...is this how it must be? With a frown, he stepped back. "No. Not yet." With a howl of frustration, he raised his spear up high.

Ethel took the opportunity, rolling away before his spear smashed into the ground. Amidst the great explosion, her rapiers — Blades shining blue amidst the red, moving like lightning through the flames — lashed out once more.

(What had he done? His enemy had been at his mercy! Her life would have been his; how many motes would Silvercloak Ethel have been worth?!)

(But even if your Flame Clock would have been fueled...would it have been equal to the fire you feel right now?)

On and on they fought, until their fingers became numb from the force of their strikes; a staggering blow from both caused their weapons to go flying, scattering across the rocky cave floor. To turn away to get his Blade, he would have to show his back to his opponent. Unacceptable! Snarling, he advanced nonetheless, deadened fingers curling into fists.

Ethel, to his strange joy(?), had apparently elected to do the same: the discs of her Power Frame — one on each hand, one on each boot, and another one on her waist — whined as they reinforced her body's musculature.

Their form in hand-to-hand was clearly lacking compared to their skills with a Blade, to the point where they seemed somewhat sloppy. Yet sheer vigor and utter desire — a desire for what? For victory? For her life? Those seemed so hollow, in the face of this rapturous duel — kept them going. Kicks to the knee, knees to the gut, elbows to the face: anything and everything was a weapon in this strange moment, which was rapidly transcending the conventional tropes of the eternal war between Keves and Agnus. Time itself seemed to slip away, as all of Aionios faded from thought. There was only this: Cammuravi and Ethel, fighting to the death.

(Yet you could have killed her earlier, and didn't. Are you truly fighting to the death?)

His arms had become too heavy to lift; his breaths were ragged, parched as though he hadn't had a drink in forever; a cut on his forehead was bleeding profusely onto his left eye, blinding his Iris. Yet Ethel's hair, matted with sweat and blood, was a fitting mirror in this instant. Bereft of fists, and too weak to kick, they defaulted to the only means left to them.

Roaring in defiance of the world, they smashed their heads together. The impact brought clarity unlike anything else: face to face, she was all that mattered to him, and he to her. Falling to their knees, leaning against each other as mutual support...until finally, weariness had its way, as they fell to the ground. The cavern echoed with their pained breathing: everything felt too constrained, too small for the grandiosity of what had just occurred.

Two measly third-termers, fighting to the death amidst a field of corpses...and yet now, after over an hour of endless battle, they couldn't kill each other even if they wanted to.

The sheer absurdity of it all elicited a chuckle from Cammuravi. Ethel, it seemed, was of a similar mind, for she quietly laughed as well.

xx

From that moment, they were bound.

"I feel like...I've been reborn," he whispered into the open air, full of wonder.

Ethel apparently heard him, because she agreed. "I feel...the same."

No other word fit for such a glorious transformation.

xx

"I must report back to Colony 4. It wouldn't be right by my men, if their Commander were to fall on a distant battlefield."

Ethel's words were clear, amidst the quiet of the desert wastes; without the sandstorm, they stood in the open sun, now fully cognizant of just how much they had brutalized each other. Even so, Cammuravi couldn't help but harp on a particular title. "I was unaware you had been promoted to Commander."

"It was desperation more than anything that forced my soldiers into that battle," she replied, speaking of the infamous conflict that had given rise to her reputation. "After our victory, the soldiers of Colony 4 were unwilling to follow anyone else but me...and after an appeal to our Consul, my predecessor was reassigned to another Colony."

"It's quite unprecedented, for one as young as you to become the Commander of an entire Colony."

"Why else do you think I was in the field? I cannot afford to skate by on reputation alone."

"...an answer befitting a warrior." For that reason...he was glad that Ethel was alive. A kindred spirit, from Keves? It seemed unthinkable, and yet the reality of it all was manifest. "Then I too must report back to Delta. I will need to have my Commander direct our off-seers to send off our fallen."

Ethel crossed her arms over her chest, a complicated expression ghosting by her face. With a resolute nod, she added, "Given the state of my injuries, it may take at least a week for me to get back to Colony 4."

Given that the rest of Colony Delta's detachment in Dannagh Desert — for they had made no secret of their presence, involved as they had been with recent battles against Colonies 8 and 24 — was less than three days away, he recognized the offer for what it was. "Then I will ensure our off-seers are long gone by the time yours arrive."

That should have been the end of it. Yet, as they parted ways...

"Don't die." Cammuravi turned around, looking at Ethel; the expression on her face was complicated, but it mirrored how he himself felt: conflicted, yet glad at how these events had come about. "It would be a shame, for you to perish to a wild monster instead of to a Blade." (To her Blade specifically, it went unsaid.)

The very thought was anathema. Resting the staff of his Blade on his shoulder, Cammuravi solemnly replied, "Our feud has merely been delayed. Until we can finish it properly...I will not die."

Ethel, hands loosely hanging onto her twin Blades, acknowledged his vow with a silent nod. "...likewise."

And so they limped away...to live, and fight another day.

xxxx

Ironically, Ethel's reputation served to bolster Cammuravi's: word spread quickly of how he had been the lone survivor of a battle against Silvercloak. Before long, he bore his own unique title: 'Smouldering.' It fit his appearance and his demeanor...but more importantly, it matched the fire that always burned within him, seeking something precious to fuel it.

Thus far, nothing inflamed that roaring pyre like Silvercloak Ethel.

Delta's commander, against all odds, made it to his Homecoming. By acclamation, Cammuravi had been elevated to succeed him.

Ethel and Cammuravi both advanced in term. Their duels eventually became grander, to the point where they would fight each other in Ferronises.

However...the character of their battles seemed strangely lighthearted, to the point where Ethel's second-in-command — Bolearis — could reasonably call them 'spars'.

Yet who would question them? They had risen to meteoric heights, almost as though they were one.

Naturally, they would likewise fall together.

xxxx

Cammuravi's first thought, as his Ferronis's knee joint gave out, was that he should have been more of a stickler for maintenance, in light of how their last supply shipment had been stolen by plucky Kevesi troops. Yet Colony 4 had advanced onto their territory, and there had been no time to double check.

(He was in his ninth term now. There wasn't enough time, it felt like.)

Alas, a Colony was a reflection of its Commander. A failure of maintenance was ultimately his failure; a warrior would accept no excuses for their own faults.

Hence — as Ethel's Ferronis struck down his own; as his mighty mech collapsed onto the field; as he scrambled out of the cockpit and into the open air — he could only stare at the tip of the blue blade with acceptance. Ethel's Ferronis seemed as though she were the judge of his fate, ready to execute him; as the fallen, he could not and would not protest.

(He wondered if this is what Ethel had felt like, all those years ago, when she stared at the tip of his spear.)

From so far away, he could not see the fullness of Ethel's expression. Yet her grim frown was obvious, even from this distance.

He would accept her decision, whatever it was.

(It would still be a shame, for one of you to go on...to leave the other one behind.)

Yet...instead of striking him down, her Ferronis stepped back. The obvious thing — the correct thing, by any conventional military doctrine — would have been for her to end his life. Yet it was not to be.

Cammuravi valiantly tried to rally Colony Delta on foot, but it was to no avail; in the face of an absolute rout, he called a retreat.

Their territory was seized by Colony 4...yet most of his soldiers would live on to fight another day. That was all Cammuravi could give them, now.

(You wonder if Ethel feels as bitter about this as you do.)

(The fact that he had been let go by Ethel did not escape the notice of the Consuls.)

xxxx

It was a testament to the mercurial nature of most Consuls that both sides were punished.

Colony 4, despite defeating Delta and seizing their territory, were stripped of their Silver rank, and kicked down to Dirt. That was their punishment for Ethel's unforgivable crime of letting Cammuravi live.

Colony Delta, despite surviving with most of their forces intact, were stripped of more than just their rank. Cammuravi, even though he took full responsibility for their defeat, was imprisoned in Agnus Castle; the survivors were reassigned to other Colonies, to cement the shame of their retreat for all the soldiers of Agnus.

Ethel and Cammuravi's reputations were seemingly sullied forever, at this point...but with their tenth term looming ahead of them, they had no reason to care about such things.

In a given moment of time...their duels had been the most important events of their lives. Thus it was with no exaggeration, when the newest incarnation of Ouroboros came knocking, that Ethel would speak of her fight with Cammuravi in such terms: "Hunger. Pride. Desire. Joy, maybe...it's a little hard to put into words...but something along those lines. I haven't all the time in the world...and my troops understand this full well. For me...well, all of us, really...a rematch with Cammuravi is everything. And that...will give purpose to the remainder of our lives."

Even reduced to Dirt, Colony 4 was still a reflection of Ethel, and so they looked forward to the resumption of the duel.

Even without Colony Delta, Cammuravi was exactly the same.

What a curious turn of events it was, then, that they would meet each other again, within the halls of Keves Castle.

xxxx

/First Floor Hangar, Keves Castle/

"Of all the ways we could meet again, it ends up being this...the irony of it all," mused Ethel.

The wistful tone in Ethel's voice felt wrong, somehow. Reassuring her in his own way, Cammuravi replied, "We are bound. That is how I see it."

"Bound?" she asked, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. "That certainly sounds like you. You're talking about...?"

Memories came to mind, of the first time he had ever heard of Silvercoat Ethel; of whether they would ever cross paths, and how it would be resolved. "Fate. I think that is how you would put it."

"Fate, you say..."

(As she stared at their new Ferronises, there were doubtless many questions they could have asked each other. There were so many things they could have talked about: the reality of Moebius, the revelations of Ouroboros, the oddity of Keves's Golden Consul being able to walk freely in Agnus Castle, the ultimate fate of Colony Delta's men, the fact that Colony 4 had been freed from its Flame Clock. Yet, with what time they had left, it all felt...superfluous.)

So instead, Ethel's inquiry was focused on him. "Why? Why did you agree? To be 'reborn'?"

(It was the height of irony, that this term would gain so much literal meaning in light of the reality of the cradles, and how the lives of every soldier were endlessly recycled. Yet, for them...it had the significance of a total change in life, unique to them as a single unit. Their first duel in that cave in Dannagh Desert; their mutual rise as Commanders; their fall from grace...and now, degraded to mere weapons to be pointed at Ouroboros by the Queen of Keves, lest Colony 4 be annihilated.)

Cammuravi caught onto her true meaning: why subject himself to become the pawn for Keves, the sworn enemy of his nation? "So you know?"

"There were rumors. That you were imprisoned. That you took the blame for the Colony's seizure." (Your reputation, if you had only leveraged it, could have allowed you to return to the battlefield before now; she did not say this aloud, even though he could tell she wanted to.)

"It was only fitting." That was all he would say on the matter. (How else was he supposed to explain his irrational feelings on this regard? That he trusted in their mysterious bond to see him through, that he trusted their solemn vow would have been fulfilled regardless?)



Ethel, it seemed, was far more pessimistic; her recent experiences with the Consuls and her Queen must have been quite negative, for she darkly muttered, "Perhaps I should have killed you there and then." Better a warrior's death on the battlefield, than to be reduced to...this.

Even though he agreed, he could not let her doubt herself (lest he also doubt himself). "Only through death...can our feud be resolved. In a way, I am grateful." The abject humiliation of his imprisonment and the degradation of his accomplishments...naught but ashes, in the face of this unique opportunity. "Now that I have been blessed with a Ferronis...and another chance."

"Another chance..." whispered Ethel. He wondered what she was thinking about, at this moment. Perhaps of how they were bound in yet another sense, now: of how the purple Flame Clocks on their new Ferronises were tied to their lives, in unison.

(You find it only proper.)

Still...before he committed himself to the upcoming battle, he needed her assurance about Ouroboros, about these Kevesi and Agnian rebels with strange powers and unknown goals.

Ethel had simply called them hope personified: everyone's hope, and not just hers. Her relieved smile, directed at him, only convinced him of how things were going to end. "I see." We are to be the kindling for Ouroboros: to help their fire grow in a tomorrow we'll never reach. "Then there's only one choice," he said with a resigned tone.

"Yes. Only one," she agreed. (In his heart of hearts, he believed that she felt as sad as he did.)

xxxx

It was yet another vow, made without words.

In the face of the Consuls' duplicity, and the threat made by Keves's Queen to one of her own Colonies...they knew this next battle would be their last.

If nothing else, they had resigned themselves to testing Ouroboros's mettle, ensuring that they had the strength to live on...even if it galled, to let their vow go unfulfilled.

Alas, Consul P would prove to be too impatient, and Consul O would resort to a foolish method to bring him to heel: what was the sting of an Iris's command, compared to the purity of his vow?

What did it matter, in the face of the one who made his flame burn brightest?

What did other 'enemies' matter, when Silvercloak Ethel was right there?

xxxx

"I am under no one's yoke! I will be as they are! I am free!" Crushing his left eye in his hand, Cammuravi held his spear with pride.

"Free...you're right...we're free!" (Even if Ethel's Iris was no longer subject to being controlled, she was bound to him; if he was not free, then she wasn't free...and vice-versa.) "Free! The two of us!" echoed her voice from the speakers of her Ferronis.

Ignoring Ourboros's palpable confusion, he grinned. "Attend, Ethel!"

"Yes! Our dream will not perish!"

They made some distance...and promptly turned their Ferronises' weapons on each other, resuming their long-delayed duel, on the battlefield they knew would be their grave.

All thoughts of their Colonies faded; they would entrust the safety of Colony 4, and the future, to Ouroboros. Even the threat of the Consuls meant nothing in the face of this moment, where they could put everything on the line.

"This feeling of elation...liberating, is it not?" he said, giving voice to the joy that inflamed his heart.

"I feel it too, Cammuravi!" replied Ethel, as her Ferronis parried his great spear.

Each blow echoed back to that day, seven terms ago, when mere children had met each other on the battlefield. From that fateful clash, something precious had bloomed...yet it had grown under the constraints of the war, of their positions as Commanders, of their duties and obligations. Here, and now? It was free to grow into something more.

(Whatever Ouroboros had done to 'open her eyes', as Ethel had put it? He was eternally grateful.)

Even as the petulant Consuls forced the remnants of their life force to leak away — red motes of bloody glory, a testament to the vibrancy of their lives — Ouroboros seemed determined to stop this conflict. How fortunate, that Ethel's words were enough to stop them in their tracks, despite their protests.

(They were not warriors; they did not follow the Way that he and Ethel had walked after all this time: the Way consecrated with each other's blood, and their own.)

He felt something akin to pity, when one of the girls spoke of how they had no reason to fight each other. How sad, that their eyes were not yet open: the only reason they had even lived this long was because of how they had fought each other, over and over and over.

"You might not understand now, but someday you will," answered Ethel, speaking on his behalf. "This is what I...this is what both of us want!"

Ouroboros would carry their aspirations into the future. Ethel imposed this obligation on them, knowing that they would do so, even if they did not yet understand.

Free of their lingering attachments, released from all that bound them to this world...there was only one thing left. "Here I come! CAMMURAVI!"

"Let us cross blades...one last time!" As he reared his weapon, his grin reduced into something smaller, yet no less potent for it: a satisfied smile, content with the course of his life.

(In this moment, his spear would not be held at her helpless face; her sword would not be hovering above his defenseless form; now, at the culmination of all things, they would bring their weapons to bear, with everything they had.)

As one, they charged; glowing crimson, they roared in defiance of the world.

His Ferronis delivered a mighty pierce, right as hers leapt and struck with a dual thrust.

Their titanic weapons broke through as one; at the very end, there was naught but clarity. Their Ferronises were face-to-face, as they themselves had once been, in the flesh; in this moment, nothing existed beyond Ethel and Cammuravi; even their titles had been cast aside.

As their Flame Clocks bled away in their entirety, and their bodies began to dissolve...the last thing Cammuravi witnessed, through the eyes of his Ferronis (through the bond they had, however strange it was), was Ethel's smile.

Beautiful.

He only hoped that his last smile had likewise revealed the depths of his joy to her, the woman that meant everything to him: his rival in life, and in death.

(The first time they had met, their bodies had collapsed to the ground, broken by weariness.)

(This time, their bodies — immortalized in memoriam by the Ferronises — would remain standing as an unyielding testament to everything they had been.)

xxxx

In the end, Ouroboros would wonder about the meaning of this battle, and why Ethel and Cammuravi had chosen to end it the way they had.

Of their group, Lanz had been the closest to the mark.

"Those two...fought for their ideal..." murmured Lanz, looking at the silent husks of the mighty Ferronises. "Something more important than their lives."

Yet, as they would find out at Keves Castle, and later at Colony Omega...in Aionios, death was never merely an end, but also a beginning.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: During Chapter 2, at the Lake Rezzento oasis, Fornis Region/

"...so, is your hair actually not on fire?"

Eunie's question elicited a confused blink from Sena. "Eh?"

As the trio of Ouroboros girls floated in the water, Lanz and Noah were swimming laps along the perimeter of the lake. (For added challenge, Manana was atop Lanz and Riku was atop Noah, hanging on as though the two were Nopon vessels of the high seas.) Since Taion had declined to join them all, this gave the trio an opportunity to mingle, away from the wretched dryness of the Eagus Wilderness.

Mingling, in this case, consisted of inquiring about their differing 'head bits'. "I mean, it looks like it's on fire, but it doesn't go out underwater. So how does that work?"

"I mean...I dunno," admitted Sena, resisting the urge to fiddle with her side ponytail. "I never really thought about it. It's just...always been glowing? I mean, what about your wings? Can you use them to fly?"

Eunie's head wings twitched in unison, somehow matching her irked expression. "Do these things look big enough to hold air?"

"I mean, hover-type Levnises don't have wings, but they can still fly!"

"Not sure you're gettin' the point..."

Mio calmly interjected, stepping (or rather, floating) into the discussion. "I think we're all still getting used to our differences and similarities...we just never had time to think about this sort of stuff, before."

Sena inwardly winced, not letting her discomfort show on her face. "Mimi..."

"...well, guess it's all cosmetic differences, innit?" wondered Eunie, a thoughtful frown on her face. "Though, come to think of it...you haven't, like, ever set anything on fire, have you? With your hair, I mean?" Sena shook her head 'no', prompting Eunie to turn to Mio and ask, "What about you? Your ears give you any problems?"

"Well...the hearing is kind of sensitive," she admitted.

Eunie huffed, looking downright gutted. "Sparks' sake, that'd be my luck, wouldn't it? My wings ain't good for nothin' but making my head a bigger target. And molting is a downright bitch!"

"Erm...if you need help with preening or what not, you can ask me or Sena for help," offered Mio. "Right?"

Sena hurriedly nodded. "Yeah, it'd be no problem! And you don't have to worry about your head wings; they look really pretty!"

Eunie seemed genuinely dumbfounded by the compliment. "Eh...you think so, huh?"

It sufficiently changed the course of the conversation away from Sena's hair. It was strange; she hadn't really had much of an occasion to think about cosmetic aspects of herself. Her and Lanz's observations — his skin patterns, her 'shiny chest doodads' (which was an amusing way to think about it, she inwardly thought) — had somehow prompted this level of introspection. Who am I? And why do I look the way I do?

(It was just another aspect of the Agnian called Sena.)

(Can you really afford to think about something so trivial? You're still not even sure as to who you are.)

xxxx



The nature of races as a form of categorization had been surprisingly absent, in the realm of Aionios.

The only categories that mattered were tied to the war: were you part of Keves or Agnus; what was your Colony's rank; what was your role in a squad; what kind of weapon was your Blade; and so on, and so forth. As such, the physiological differences amongst soldiers — bound as they were by the Flame Clock, consumed with the taking of life to sustain their own — had never been of much importance, if it had had any at all.

Some Kevesi had head wings, or skin with metallic colors; some Agnians had cat ears, or skin with rocky patches, or blue flesh with pointy ears, or crystalline protrusions from the ether lines running up their bodies.

Yet, human nature — regardless of how hard Moebius tried to control it in their neverending desire to fuel the Endless Now — was a wily beast to wrangle with. Though it had been suppressed in most, it still poked its head out in various ways.

Sena — with her self-doubt, feelings of loneliness, and inferiority complex — was no exception.

xxxx

/Time: Six Terms before the Main Plot/

/Colony Theta, Far Northeastern Cadensia Region/

Colony Theta was located in a patch of wooded land, nestled on the northeastern edge of Erythia Sea; in this territory, they could see the tips of Agnus Castle hovering above the treetops, lingering far in the distance. It was about a day's trip by a hover-type Levnis to the Castle's workyards, which made their Colony a prime location for training new recruits...mostly because collateral damage wasn't as much of a concern. It was why a squad from Colony Delta was even here: to lend some of their expertise in preparing first and second-termers for close combat trials.

Sena had to admit feeling somewhat intrigued, at the sight of 'Smouldering Cammuravi', if only because she hadn't ever encountered anyone with hair that appeared to burn. It was honestly kind of...exciting, in a sense? He was even in the same term as Mio! You've talked to Mimi, so you can talk to him. Right? Right...not right.

(Mio had looked at her askance, confused by her reluctance to try and talk to the visiting warrior. "It's not like he'll tear your head off. We're allies!")

(It was easy for someone as cool as her to say; but you've been mocked by those same allies. Some right proper reassurance, hm?)

After going back and forth in her own mind about it, Sena's feet nonetheless disobeyed her wishes by taking her right to the bench Cammuravi was sitting on. "Eh?" When did I get here??

The fourth-termer — focused on the training grounds where newbies bloodied each other in mock combat — looked over his shoulder, looking both detached yet piercing. "I don't believe your squad is next up."

"Oh! Um. Well, Cammuravi, sir, I mean...it's not about that."

"What is your question, then?"

Go for it go for it go for it! "Ehm...well, it's your hair. It's...kinda like mine! Heh, crazy, huh...?"

Cammuravi glanced briefly at her side ponytail and bangs, before tilting his eyes upward; his spiky hair looked like literal flames, culminating in a brilliant glow. "My hair was not always this way."

Sena blinked. "...really?"

"Though a fire burned within me for so long, it was not until my third term where its outward manifestation became permanent. As time goes on, it glows ever more."

"...oh." Mine's always been like this. "I see..."

Cammuravi looked back at her, lips never changing from their stern — yet somehow placid — frown. "Yours has always been burning?"

"...yeah," she relented. (Yet another way in which you're different from everyone else.)

"Then perhaps you've already found your own Way. Is it the path of the warrior, like mine?"

"...my own 'Way'?" she repeated, unsure of what he referred to. "Sorry. I'm...not much of a warrior..."

"Hmm. Interesting." To himself, he quietly pondered, "To be walking your own Way, even if you don't realize it...?" Rising to his feet, Cammuravi manifested his Blade. "If your Way is not akin to mine," he said aloud, with a hint of finality, "then you shouldn't imitate me." That was all he said, before striding into the arena to explosively correct the mistakes of the younger soldiers.

Sena merely pouted, her right hand absentmindedly fiddling with her ever-burning ponytail. What does it mean, to walk your own 'Way'? How would I even know about it...and would I even like where it leads...? Sitting down on the bench Cammuravi had vacated, she watched all the activities of the Colony and its visitors from within, wondering if anyone would notice if she simply disappeared. (Even Miyabi, the well-meaning klutz that she was, would have been noticed if she left...if only because people would wonder why she was no longer around to trip into other people.)

(You don't even have that pitiful luxury; if you had never been, would the world be any different?)

(Even Mimi, despite her distaste at being designated as one of Theta's off-seers, walked that Way with a stubbornness that was uniquely Mio.)

Will I...ever know what I want...?

xxxx

The sentiment regarding Sena's Way — whatever Cammuravi had meant by that — would be paralleled by Mio before long.

("Just be yourself. You know you don't have to do what I do, right?")

What did it mean, to 'be herself'? She didn't even know why her hair burned.

("Never stop being you. 'Kay?")

What did it mean, to be 'Sena'?

It was a question she struggled with. (Quietly, she hated the fact such a struggle even existed.) Better to be something that other people could value...because at least that way, she wouldn't have to worry all the time about who she was.

(And even then, she couldn't do that right. In the fateful aftermath of the Tragedy at Colony Omega, she tearfully remarked to Mio, "I...I couldn't do a thing. I wasn't any use...none at all...")

Even after being reassigned to Colony Gamma alongside Mio, she would continue to wrestle with that uncertainty.

Then, shortly after the beginning of her ninth term, came Ouroboros...and so much more.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, during Nia's Travels with Ouroboros, before the first Invasion of Origin/

/Training Ground, The City/

"It was a shameful display of weakness on my part."

"Huh?" remarked Sena, looking at Cammuravi with a discerning eye. (Even though she had had some time to get used to Consul Y's method of resurrection, it was still weird to see him, Hackt, and Miyabi walking around the City.) "What do you mean?"

"That Consul's attack," he elaborated, arms crossed with consternation. "Before I even knew what was happening, I was frozen in place."

"Oh..." Shania. "That." (The aftermath of Shania's attempt at revenge against the City — the unfortunate girl's first and last outing as a member of Moebius — was an entirely different story.) "Are you okay?"

"I was of no use. None at all," he murmured, eyes trailing over to where Ethel — a little first-termer, with all the vim and vigor of someone much older — was sparring against Lanz. "Ethel puts too much blame on herself for being frozen as well. Yet what excuse have I, as someone in their tenth term?"

"You shouldn't blame yourself," she remarked, patting the taller man on his non-burning pauldron. (The sentiments he was expressing rang all too familiar.) "Even if your body is in its tenth term, you're been awake for what, a month, if that? So in a way, you're as much of a first-termer as Ethel!"

"So you say," he said, looking at her with a contemplative expression. "...have you ever wondered, why your hair burns?" he earnestly asked.

"Eh?" This role reversal brought back memories of six terms ago, when she had inquired about the same topic with Cammuravi's prior life. "Well...yes, actually." All the time, as a matter of fact. Yet, as of late, concerns about that sort of thing had felt...superfluous. Compared to everything else they had gone through, questions about her hair had simply fallen by the wayside. "You know...there was a great warrior who once told me that my hair burned because I had found my 'Way': the Way that I wanted my life to go." Crippled by doubt as she had been, had she not been trying to do her best in every single moment? (Whether you were a 'plucky heroine girl', a 'one-track musclehead', a 'loner', or even 'that girl whose hair is on fire'...did you not try your best to always help everyone be friends? Did you not try to protect those who were closest to you with everything you had?) "Even if I didn't know it at the time, I think his answer was pretty spot-on, looking back. So maybe it's the same with you, and that Warrior's Way you keep talking about!"

Cammuravi hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm. It seems odd, to try and show others the Warrior's Way, even though I'm not yet sure of where it's going...but I suppose there is no helping it. I must move forward into the unknown, trusting in my Way..." He suddenly grimaced, reaching up toward his left eye; even now, phantom pains reared their ugly head to sting at random intervals. "...I suppose you do not likewise suffer from odd pains in your eye?"

"Eh...sorry, I'm afraid I can't help you there..." she admitted, scratching at the back of her head.

Inhaling deeply, Cammuravi murmured, "I am the mountain, standing stalwart against the piercing wind..." As the pain subsided, he looked back at her with a solemn expression. "That warrior you mentioned sounds quite wise...and his words sound equally wise, coming from you. Thank you."

Sena had occasionally wondered if it was possible for her cheeks to burst into blue flames, because her face felt hot from utter embarrassment. "Oh no no! I'm not a great warrior. I'm just...Sena. I'm me."

xx

Shortly thereafter, Sena walked with Lanz towards the Centrilo Parade, to satisfy their hunger at the Michiba Canteen with the others.

"...so, still wondering about the hair?" he asked.



Sena smiled sadly. "Still wondering about your skin patterns?"

The taller man chuckled. "Nah. Not gonna change anything about what we have to do in our fight with Moebius, will it?"

"It's the same for me," she admitted, no longer feeling the same sting as she once did. "I'm...still trying to figure out who 'Sena' is. But...I'm getting there, bit by bit."

Lanz smirked, folding his hands behind his head as they neared the main thoroughfare through the City. "Well, if you ask me, this 'Sena' sounds like a pretty cool character, despite being a literal hothead. I hear she can bench press ten Gogols at once!"

"Just ten?" she remarked with a grin, devolving into easy laughter.

"...I do got a different question though. About the hair loop thing." He pointed to the yellow band around her ponytail. "You've always got it set like that. How come?"

Sena blinked. "Oh. This? Well..." Without a thought, she pulled the band off, letting a surprisingly thick wave of fiery hair spill out over her right shoulder. "It just kinda...gets in the way."

"Eh, fair enough. You ever thought about cutting it?"

"No way!" she sputtered, impulsively twisting her long locks back into a side ponytail with practiced ease. "It's...part of my look!"

"Your look, eh?" he observed with a toothy grin.

Puffing her cheeks out, Sena felt oddly irritated at the idea. (Was this what Manana had meant about hair being the lifeblood of a girl? Because the thought of changing her hairdo felt like a violation of the natural order!) "I mean, what I'm saying is...um..." Darn it, where did my words go?!

Lanz looked around, as though inspiration had suddenly struck. Heading towards Wellwell's Emporium, he delved inside.

Even from the main walkway of Centrilo Parade, Sena could hear odd shouts — "Meh-meh, what Tall Man doing here? Meh, not touch merchandise without paying! Wait, what are you doing-?!" — before Lanz...walked...out...with...? "Uh...Lanz...?"

Lanz's left hand looked like it had been dunked into blue paint, which he had then run through his pale hair. The blue liquid caked his locks in an unflattering mess, to the point of dripping down the sides of his face. As though he were a professional, he looked into a nearby window at his reflection, utterly ignoring the curious stares from nearby Cityfolk. "Hmm...well, I don't know about you, but I don't think I can pull off blue hair as well as you do."

It was an oddly touching gesture. Truly.

Yet — as Lanz told Wellwell to calm down, and stop throwing sparks all over the place because yes he'll pay for the paint can! — Sena couldn't help her bout of explosive belly laughs, erupting like ether from a roaring channel.

xxxx

It was probably at that moment when Lanz gained consideration for nickname status.

Because that's just one of the things Sena did: give nicknames to those she felt closest to.

All told, Sena was glad that she was able to live with being 'Sena', even if she believed that she was a work-in-progress on so many things...because life itself was a work-in-progress, was it not?

Even if she had no idea why her hair burned...did the reason really matter?

Sena was Sena. Nothing more, and nothing less.

xxxx

Meanwhile, from a window seat at the Michiba Canteen, Nia and Mio were watching the shenanigans with rapt interest. "Do...you have any idea why Lanz covered his head with blue paint?" wondered Mio.

"Oh, I haven't the foggiest," mused Nia with a strange yet knowing smile, her eyes focused on Sena in particular.

Mio's ears twitched out of curiosity. "Is...something wrong?"

"Oh no, not at all. I'm just...reminded of someone I know, that's all. Maybe I'll tell you later."

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 2, after the First Class Change/

/Millick Meadows, Aetia Region/

"So...why are they called 'Mondo'?"

Taion looked at Eunie with curiosity; there was a strange feeling at the sight of her in his own clothing (then again, was it truly 'his'? All that had shifted were the shirt and scarf), but more so at the sight of the Mondo fluttering around Eunie's head wings. "Pardon?"

"The name. 'Mondo'." Tapping at the gauntlet on her wrist, she added, "There was an old intel report that described Agnian Blades. Can't remember for the life of me what it was called, but I remember this gauntlet. And it sure as spark wasn't called Mondo."

"...a fair point," remarked Taion, glancing ahead at the others; the canyon that connected to the Fornis Region loomed before them. "I'm surprised you had the wherewithal to even review old intelligence briefings."

"Oi, you calling me an idiot?" she huffed, placing her hands on her hips.

"No. Rather...in my experience, if it doesn't have anything to do with what's right in front of them, then most soldiers don't bother digging for answers to irrelevant questions."

"Well, you never know if you'll run into an unusual Blade on the battlefield. Rare or not, better to be prepared for when sparks blow in your face, right?"

"...yes," he murmured, walking onward.

"...so, you gonna answer me or what? Come on, tell me!"

Taion retreated into his thoughts, feeling that Eunie would eventually stop pestering him if he simply went silent. (This wouldn't work, and it would never work, but they were still new at working together.) Rather, his thoughts...turned back...

xxxx

Mondo: such an unusual word.

Yet how strange, for it to be so close to yet another word, of much greater importance...

xxxx

/Time: Five Terms Prior to the Main Plot/

/Colony Lambda, Great Cotte Falls, Pentelas Region/



Life as a tactician wasn't easy, especially when it came to using a Blade you weren't necessarily good at. What fortune, that I can think anywhere I want, mused a young Taion, his hands trying to manipulate Katashiro...but to no avail, as the thin slips of paper sluggishly hovered through the air. Not fast enough.

It was admittedly rather strange, for a fourth-termer to be trained up into Operations and Planning for the Colony's Strategy Branch; with Isurd having recently been promoted to Commander of Lambda, the man had a much greater sway over the affairs and administration of the Colony...including assignments. Alas, given Taion's lack of demonstrable combat ability, not too many people had complained about him being transferred from Logistics to Strategy.

(It was a wretched feeling, to be so useless and inept. It galled.)

Hence why he took the opportunities when available to practice, and train. The replication of Katashiro's paper talismans using ether had been a relatively easy capability to master...but maneuvering them? Manipulating them as though they were an extension of his very self? That had proved...elusive. Yet what else could he do? There was no one else he could turn to; not truly.

"So this is what you've been doing."

Taion frowned at the sudden voice; turning on his heel, he watched as an older woman with purple hair and crystalline hands approached from the waterfall. "Lady Nimue?" The woman was truly an oddity: she had only showed up at Lambda following Isurd's return from a disastrous expedition in the Cadensia frontier. Although he had yet to work on a mission with Nimue, he knew that she had spent some time getting acquainted with the older members of Operations, as well as the Lieutenants overseeing the other aspects of the Colony's command structure. To this point, he hadn't had much chance to work with her personally. "What are you-?"

"You know there's a curfew for soldiers not on duty," she remarked, walking up besides him. "It's important to be well-rested."

"I'm...I'm aware," he muttered, feeling as one being put down. "It's just-"

"Is there a reason you haven't come to me for advice on how to use your Blade?"

Grimacing, his eyes fell upon the unique gauntlet on Nimue's arm; much like his own, her Katashiro rested within there. "I...wouldn't want to inconvenience you. The Commander obviously has many plans involving you."

"Does he, now?" She seemed strangely amused by his claim.

"Er...well, given how many people in the different branches of the Colony that you've been speaking to, it only seemed logical-"

Nimue interrupted his guess before he could finish. "I simply wanted to get to know the people here: to get insight into how they live, into why they fight. It's...been an enlightening experience."

Honestly, Taion didn't know what to make of her comments. Sometimes, the woman spoke as one who hadn't ever been through boot camp at the Castle, or secondary training at Colony Theta. (Oh, if only he knew.) "I see...so why-?"

"I've seen some of the plans you've drawn up for hypothetical combat situations. I've also seen your older notes analyzing problems with our supply chain, from your time in Logistics. I believe you have a good head on your shoulders...so I don't think it's something as simple as pride that kept you from asking."

Taion burned with shame at how easily he was being called out. "I...that is..." An elaborate figure suddenly moved in his periphery, drawing his eyes; he watched a simple origami doll dance around in the air, commanded solely by Nimue's will.

"Jihi is pretty good, isn't it?"

"...Jihi?" he dumbly repeated.

Nimue nodded, her smile revealing just a hint of her tiny fangs. "The Blade, Katashiro...I understand it's a rather rare weapon?"

Surely she knows that? "Well. Yes; compared to more conventional Blades, those who emerge from the cradle with Katashiro are rather scarce." (Life would have been so much easier, if he had been born with a bond to a conventional weapon.) "I've referenced some old textbooks that describe the techniques of past users, but I've been unable to replicate them." More like the chosen techniques that had been described seemed so...base. Manipulating the paper talismans to form a thin blade seemed fine and dandy...but that was so lacking! Why not have a sword yourself if that's all you were going to do?!

"It's easy to manipulate a weapon if you can hold it in your hands; but for Katashiro to be an extension of your will, you have to intimately understand the flow of ether between them and you. And forcing the flow of ether is different from guiding it." As the little doll settled in her palm, she added, "It's why I named my Katashiro: to make them seem less like the tools they are, and more like a partner. It helped give me the mindset I needed to use my Blade to its utmost."

"That sounds..." Silly? Childish? Nonsensical? He didn't dare voice his incredulity, because Nimue — even though she was a newcomer to the Colony — outranked him.

Patting him on the shoulder, she said, "Sleep on it. Think of a name that fits with what you hope to accomplish in the time you have left." Then she departed without another word.

"...the time I have left?" I still have six terms left; why did she make it sound like our Homecoming is in the near future? Still, he resisted the urge to let his confusion roil; a superior had given him a task. It was only proper for him to devote himself to it.

So he returned to the barracks. He pondered in silence, and dreamt.

His dreams were startlingly different. They were strangely ethereal, drifting in and out from the heights of something immense; his dreams normally focused on the mundane realities of his life, and the dread of failing his fellow soldiers...but this? It was...something else. Something bizarre. And there was a word: a very peculiar word, that carried a very unusual meaning—seizing his destiny; determining the passage of fate; carving his own path to the future. Such big and grandiose comments, far above one of his status.

(Yet it was...intriguing.)

(You may not be able to attain such lofty heights. But why not try and aim high, regardless?)

Hence, the next morning, he resolutely entered the tent for the Strategy Branch. Nimue was already present, manipulating her Katashiro (no, she had called them Jihi) to imitate a battlefield scenario in miniature. "Have you thought of a name?"

"...I believe I have."

"And?"

Taion raised his gauntlet, pulling out a little paper talisman. It felt strangely heavy. That word...Monado...it seems far too noble. He was way too grounded, too pragmatic, to apply such a bizarrely majestic word to his Blade. But...it's something to reach for. Thus, he took one proverbial step back from such grandeur, lopping off one syllable to obtain his chosen name. "Mondo." It...fit, somehow, despite sounding somewhat juvenile when said out loud. "These...will be my Mondo."

Nimue smiled sincerely. "Mondo...I like it. Now we can begin training in earnest...but first, origami."

Taion blinked. "Paper folding?"

"Doing the folding yourself will make manipulating them into other shapes much easier in the long run."

"...if you say so, Lady Nimue."

"You don't have to call me 'Lady'. Just Nimue is fine."

"Er...right," he blustered. "Yes ma'am."

xxxx

With Nimue's guidance, Taion took to utilizing Katashiro — his Mondo — with gusto.

Even if he couldn't change the future...it still gave him more options in the present.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 4, right after leaving Colony Lambda/

/Great Cotte Falls, Pentelas Region/

The party rested upon one of the paths winding up the massive waterfalls, catching their breath as they continued their ascent. Taion — perched on a rocky outcropping — was gazing at the distant ground below, where the waterfalls crashed gloriously in a torrent of mist and vapor. Hmm, he thought, feeling one of the Mondo pace around his hand. That's...where I used to practice. That feels...so long ago, now. He suddenly felt, more than heard, his Ouroboros partner sit beside him. "What is it, Eunie?"

"...so. You remember that time I asked about your Blade's name?" she solemnly asked.

"...yes." Sparks, how many days ago had that been; one week? Two? Maybe three?

"...you wanna talk about it?" she asked, without a hint of her usual standoffishness or coarse demeanor. "I mean, given all that stuff with Joran and Isurd, and the stuff that's been said about this Nimue lady..."

"Mind if I inquire as to your reason for asking?" he calmly asked.

"...I just wanna know, I guess. That's all. Is that a problem?"

Looking at the Mondo in his palm, Taion thought about Nimue's presence, and the void that her death had carved out between him and Commander Isurd both. Even so, the Mondo — much like the watch in his pocket — were legacies of her presence, of the mark she had made upon the world. (Of the path she had helped carve to the future.) That...was something he had no issue talking about. "No. Not at all. You see, this Blade type is actually called Katashiro..."

And so he spoke of Nimue and the Mondo, with Eunie hanging on to every word.

xxxx

Maybe, one day, Taion would actually be able to change his destiny for the better.

And his Mondo would be at his side for every single step of the way.

xxxx

Chapter Text

What does a student owe to their teacher?

What does a subordinate owe to their senior?

What does a soldier owe to their commanding officer?

What does an inferior owe to their superior?

("Well...I'm Taion. I'm part of Operations and Planning in Colony Gamma's Survey Branch. For this mission, I was assigned as support for the off-seer.")

The answers to those questions helped define how Taion had lived his short life. After all, if you knew your place, fulfilled your role...then everything would go according to plan.

That was the ideal, at least.

xxxx

/Time: Five Terms Prior to the Main Plot/

/Muroon Bridge, Great Cotte Falls, Pentelas Region/

The Mondo danced quietly through the air, directed by Taion's will.

They still were nowhere near as agile as the Jihi commanded by Nimue, which flipped and rotated about his paper dolls with a dancer's grace. "You're concentrating too hard, Taion," she remarked, her crystalline hands shining brilliantly in the setting sun. "Let your will be known to the ether, and it'll respond accordingly. I think the principle is 'the path of least resistance'?"

"Much like water, then," he remarked, trying not to grimace as he tried to let the ether flow without grabbing at it. How did Nimue make it look so easy? "It's...rather difficult."

Nimue hummed thoughtfully, as one of her paper dolls perched on top of her horn. "Perhaps you need to use an additional method? Maybe if you've tried incorporating physical movement into your actions, it may make your will more manifest to your Mondo."

"...but, you're not doing those sorts of maneuvers-"

"And you're still learning," she instantly reminded him. "Your acuity and manner of thinking...you've got so much going on that the ether can't respond to your thoughts as well as they do to mine."

(He pointedly refused to think about how Nimue casually admitted that he may be more of a thinker than her. Commenting on it would have been a step too far, especially for his mentor and superior.) "...if you believe it will help me do better, then I'll do it." After all, she was his teacher: to ignore her guidance would be utterly preposterous; unthinkable.

(Were it not for her, you'd still be stewing in the mire of your own incompetence.)

"Good," she said, acknowledging his determination. "You have to keep your mind open to new possibilities if you're going to get better at strategy...after all, the world is so big and vast, with so much we've yet to see..."

(At times, he wondered what it was that Nimue had seen, and dreamed of seeing.)

(If only you were bold enough to dream that big.)

xxxx

The student is supposed to learn from the teacher: that's what Taion did.

("She was the one who taught me strategy, who taught me how to fight using the Mondo," he said to Noah, staring at the lone Saffronia in Rae-Bel Tableland.)

Yet, there were so many things that can only be taught through action, that can only be learned through experience. All the textbooks in the world could only go so far, since they tended to miss valuable perspectives.

Thus came the paradox: when a different senior overrules you, how are you to respond?

("What are you, a coward?" condemned the Lieutenant in charge of Lambda's Assault Branch. After so many words, and failed attempts at justifying his cautious plan, the Lieutenant backhandedly reassured Taion. "Look. Taiky-boy...I mean, we're Iron Lambda, yeah? The Colony led by Commander Isurd! And this is some no-name backwater! We hit from the side, and we hit hard. Am I wrong? What we need is momentum! Gotta play hard to win big!")

Alas, how could Taion refute him? Their Flame Clock had gotten low, thanks to a paucity of enemies; Colony 13 had been too great an opportunity to ignore. Desperation also made offensive tactics more viable, if only because their soldiers were more willing to take risks. And besides...Nimue had called the revised plan 'optimal'. Commander Isurd had given his approval. That should have been enough, right?

But Taion knew better. Deep down, he had always known the truth: Nimue had believed the revised plan to be his own, as though he'd had no reservations. Isurd had accepted, only because of his trust in Nimue.

What would have happened, had Taion spoken up? If he had aired his true concerns, regardless of the Lieutenant's criticism? Would Nimue and Isurd have reconsidered?

There was no way to know...

("MA'AM!!!" Into the water Taion went, pulled by his peer. "Ma'am! Nimue!!" he cried, as the current swept him away.)

...and thus, he would always associate the sight of Nimue and Isurd's backs — walking away from the Commander's tent, to coordinate the offensive on Colony 13 — with the grim sound of death's knell.

And in the aftermath...when the consequences of your failure are staring you in the face, day in and day out...what is a soldier supposed to do, if their commanding officer wants nothing more to do with them?

xxxx

/Time: Three Terms Prior to the Main Plot/

/Colony Lambda, Pentelas Region/



Taion was silent as Commander Isurd calmly told him that he was going to be transferred; that his talents and skills would be of better use in Colony Gamma, with their Survey Branch to be precise. "Given Lambda's strategic realignment towards Levnis operations, your acumen would be better suited to a Colony that's more on the frontier. A...change of scenery, you could say. It'll be best for you."

Isurd said it, so Taion didn't doubt it.

Yet he also knew, deep down, that there was another motive. He knew that Isurd wanted him gone...and he couldn't blame him, either.

(After the operation's failure against Colony 13, he had confessed everything to the Commander. How his reckless plan had gotten Nimue killed, how his pride had led to her death.)

(Pride? Mere deflection. If you had had pride in your own plans, you would have stood up against the Lieutenant. But you didn't...because you're a spineless coward, with no confidence in yourself.)

(He couldn't debate that either; instead of carrying the burden of Nimue's pocket watch, he had pushed it into Isurd's hand, walking away with frustrated tears.)

(Like a coward. Because that's what you are.)

Taion let none of his shame show, simply nodding in acquiescence. "As you say, Commander Isurd. When do I depart?"

"Tomorrow. Sif is going to be taking a Levnis full of ether canisters to supplement Colony Gamma's supply; while he returns with the Levnis parts we need, you'll be staying behind." Tapping at his Iris, Isurd calmly said, "Commander Teach is a strict sort from what I've heard, but I trust you'll do well."

I don't even merit such trust. "You're too kind, Commander." Saluting — placing a hand over his heart — he added, "Thank you, sir. For...everything."

The silence that ensued would have once been filled by a wry comment from Nimue. Even now, a month after her untimely death, her void was keenly felt...and not just by them, but by everyone in the Colony. Their beloved Strategist of nearly two whole terms: dead and gone, with not even a Homecoming to her name.

(If he stayed any longer, he'd suffocate from the guilt.)

"Am I dismissed, sir?" he stoically asked.

Isurd paused, looking quietly at him for several long and awkward seconds. "Taion...is there anything you'd like to discuss, before you get your affairs in order?"

What could he discuss? His weakness? His wretched inability to stand up for himself? The awkward tension that existed between him and the Commander, even if the latter tried to disguise it with his usual smile? How, every time he closed his eyes, Nimue's retreating back — out of the tent and into the purple haze, always towards her doom — haunted him? I've burdened the Commander with my failure for long enough. Best to leave, before I see his hatred for myself. (Because after losing someone like Nimue, why wouldn't Isurd hate the one responsible?) "...no, sir. I'm good."

(You coward.)

Isurd, sighing silently, seemed to accept his reticence. "Very well. May you do well, Taion...no matter what."

Those words were more of a kindness than he deserved. "Thank you, Commander Isurd. Truly."

And so he turned away, fully expecting to never darken Isurd's quarters ever again.

xxxx

Only with the benefit of hindsight, would Taion learn of Isurd's true feelings. Though sharp and full of pain as expected, the man had discarded the thought of hate.

(Isurd had asked if he had said anything hurtful, thanks to Consul J's machinations. Taion, with a sense of forced detachment, replied, "Not at all! You were your usual self, Commander. Our pride and joy, the same as always." Yet, Isurd's quiet apology was all it took for him to know that the Commander had seen right through his flimsy lie. As Isurd proceeded to reveal the depth of Nimue's affection for him, it took everything Taion had to not burst into tears.)

But that was a reckoning for another time, to be experienced by a man who had lived through so much more.

For now, Taion — fully convinced of his own wretchedness, blaming himself for the death of Nimue and his fellow soldiers — reported to Colony Gamma, to begin his next assignment under the auspices of Commander Teach.

He was more than a 'strict sort', as Isurd had said; Teach would prove to be a severe taskmaster.

A suitable punishment for his own failure, in Taion's opinion.

xxxx

/Time: Two Terms Prior to the Main Plot/

/Colony Gamma, Aetia Region/

"Walk with me, Taion."

Commander Teach had entered the Survey Branch's tent without warning, without a sound. Although Taion and the older members of the Survey Branch were not surprised by his arrival, some of the younger individuals present for the meeting — like Zakir, a young fourth-termer who was still trying to find a squad to fit in — jolted with alarm. "Good day, Commander. Is something the matter?" asked Taion. Had he done something wrong? (He had been doing his utmost to be useful, to not bring anyone down, to not let his failure sully Gamma like it had Lambda.)

"Not at all; you're not in trouble. There's just something we must discuss."

"...very well, sir. Will it be in your tent?"

Shaking his head, the blue-skinned man said, "I know a good place nearby. Let's talk there." He turned around and walked away, fully expecting Taion to follow.

Taion, giving a few words to the Survey Branch's Lieutenant — a tenth-termer with gnarled feline ears that had been scarred by ether discharge — to continue on without him, promptly followed. He schooled his face into dutiful neutrality, only briefly gazing at the training grounds where an eighth-termer — the off-seer Mio, if he recalled correctly — was schooling a bunch of youngsters in combat drills.

Even after spending whole months with Colony Gamma's Survey Branch — memorizing geographic locations; discreetly tracking Kevesi deployments; ensuring communications between Gamma and their distant Agnian Colonies were safe from Kevesi surveillance — Taion had not yet established the sort of rapport he'd once had at Lambda.

(It also didn't help that he found himself squinting more and more; people's faces were becoming somewhat blurrier, these days.)

Alas, 'nearby' turned into a trek that lasted the better part of the whole day, at a pace Taion found somewhat brutal. Teach, looking right as rain, merely quirked an eyebrow when he finally had to stop for a breather. "For one who puts so much effort into their duties, you seem quite winded."

"I'm...sorry...Commander," he gasped, resisting the urge to slide down the gravelly hill he had just crawled up. Teach, to Taion's bewilderment, had simply walked up with nary a thought.

Teach idly gazed at the hill. "Hmm. Weather has really put this pathway through the ringer," he mused. "If it's not properly maintained, it'll become even more difficult to traverse...but that's a problem for another day. Come along." His tone brooked no dissent.

(What irony, that Taion would find himself back here again in two years, looking at a gravelly path that had been eroded down to loose sand and moving silt, where Teach would have to ironically school Ouroboros on the art of scree walking.)

Onward they moved through the grand expanses of the upper Aetia Region, fighting the occasional monster along the way; the sprawling horns that culminated in Captocorn Peak glistened in the afternoon sun, and the distinct Everblight Plain — a common battlefield that was the grave of untold scores of soldiers, Kevesi and Agnian alike — loomed like a malicious sore along the horizon. If he squinted, Taion thought he could make out the tiny dot that symbolized the Ferronis of their closest 'neighbor': Colony 9. Although, there are rumors the Castle is making preparations for reconstituting Colony Sigma after the next Homecoming; perhaps they'll take some of the pressure off of Gamma. These thoughts and more swirled through his head, even as his lungs burned and his legs ached.

As the sun cast the entirety of Aionios's vastness into sharp relief, they arrived at their destination: a place that the Commander called his 'transcendent retreat', overlooking all of Aetia Region. From here, the immense landmarks of the Urayan Mountains and the Great Sword — unfathomably vast, yet still so distant! — could be seen in all of their grandiosity. "A pleasant view, is it not?"

Taion wished he could agree. "I...doubt...you brought...me out here...for the scenery...sir..."

Teach quietly turned on his heel, looking at him with a stern yet measured glance. "Tell me, Taion: what is your opinion on power?"

"I...beg your pardon?" he asked.

"Power. The pursuit of it drives so many of our fellow soldiers: the power to become stronger, the power to kill, the power to take more and more life. It is one of the great drivers of the war between Agnus and Keves. Is it not?"

"...I can't disagree," he relented.

"Then if you were to be given all the power in the world...what would you do with it? Would you kill all of our enemies? Would you bring the world to heel?"

Such ideas were too grand for Taion, too vast. (The thought of having such catastrophic power seemed so outlandish that he discounted the possibility outright.) Instead — beleaguered by exhaustion, too weary to guard his tongue — he impulsively voiced a long unspoken wish. "I'd protect everyone I cared about...I'd never lose anyone who mattered to me...never again..."

(Such weakness, before your superior officer. You truly haven't changed.)

After several moments of silence, the Commander severely remarked, "I see that the loss against Colony 13 still lingers."

(Of course Teach would know. Such a loss would not have escaped the notice of other Colonies, Isurd would have had to report on it, of course his failure was no secret...!) "I..."

"It would seem that your perspective on power has been tempered by loss; your grief, a seal on the inherent destructiveness that is everyone's nature. Yet, you seem to have absorbed the wrong lesson."

Blinking with bewilderment, Taion looked up at Teach with confusion. "Sir...?"

"As of tomorrow, you will be assigned to a permanent squad with Mio, Sena, and Hackt; Mio will be the team leader on away missions. Although you will still be beholden to your duties with the Survey Branch at the Colony, you will be in a support role when on assignment elsewhere. Am I understood?"

Taion's mind whirled with confusion — Mio and Sena had just transferred to Gamma around the same time he had; Hackt was a veteran who had been with Gamma for more than five terms, serving a sort of 'everyman' role who could be slotted into almost any squad — at the ramifications, but why? Why would he be placed with the senior off-seer? "I...I don't understand-"

"Your power lies in your versatility; your Blade can fit in any role, if you put your mind to it. But you won't master that power if you refuse to use it, secluding yourself within the confines of the Survey Branch." Walking away from the precipice, Teach roughly pulled Taion to his feet with one arm, lifting him with ease. "A man consumed by power is a deplorable sight...but one so afraid of failure that he won't even use what little he has to its utmost? Perhaps that is a far more wretched state of being...what do you think?"

Taion couldn't speak, for his mind was too busy ruminating on the dichotomy Teach had presented him. I've...been trying to do what I can, haven't I...?

(You know better than to delude yourself.)

Teach, peering into his eyes, suddenly added, "Also, we'll see about commissioning a pair of eyeglasses. Your vision is deteriorating, isn't it?"

"What? How-?"

"The Ropls we fought on the way here? You missed one of their more obvious counterattacks...and when I began looking for it, I noticed you compensating for some of your steps on uncertain terrain." Folding his hands behind his back, he finished with, "No one will help you if you refuse to even ask for it. What then, when the time comes to help your allies?"

"...understood." He had a lot to think about...but a superior had given him advice; his commander had given him a new order. Thus would he follow it to his utmost. I...cannot falter. I have to try...I have to. "Thank you, Commander Teach."

"Good. Now, let's return to the Colony. It's mostly downhill, so we should make better time; before midnight, if possible."

"...we're not resting for the night, sir...?"

Teach simply answered with a raised eyebrow.

(Taion paid for his relative lack of conditioning the next day. Rumors quickly spread about how Teach — commander and instructor in one — had claimed yet another victim for his ruthless calisthenic regime.)

(Those rumors mean nothing; you've been given another chance when you don't deserve one. Make it count.)

xxxx



Taion vowed to be an effective teammate when on missions, and the most knowledgeable member of the Survey Branch that he could be. Knowledge was power, after all.

Even if others had greater combat capacity than he did, his Mondo could help him leverage their skills to greater effect.

Much like how Commander Teach had pushed him forward once more, Mio — as team leader — had been a means of providing focus. Though she was their elder in terms of age, that ironically made her more...precious, in a sense.

(Nimue hadn't had the chance to make it to her Homecoming. He would not let the same fate befall Mio, who had already made it so far.)

As such, despite their personality clashes, Taion went above and beyond in terms of learning about his teammates, to ensure he could assist them no matter what. Strengths, weaknesses...he vowed to understand everything.

("Whether we're talking food or weather, Mio does not take to heat." Looking back over his shoulder towards Sena and Mio, the former all but dragging the latter along through the searing heat of the Eagus Wilderness, he added, "I knew this would happen.")

However, people were more than just a combination of strengths and weaknesses, of pros and cons. People were...complicated.

It wasn't until he was free of the Flame Clock, as Ouroboros, that his ability to understand was unshackled.

So many complicated emotions with regards to his peers, to his betters in the past and present...untangling such feelings proved to be an onerous task.

(Overlooking part of the Great Cotte Falls, he looked down at Nimue's pocket watch. "Our lifetimes run for ten years only...but, this pocket watch has already lived for longer than that...by being passed from Nimue's hands to mine," he explained to Noah and Mioh. The experience was...cathartic. "...if Nimue's life is represented by her dreams, then in remembering those, I carry her life with me. Perhaps now, I can give a purpose to my life...she'd live on, if I were to pass her dreams onto others, right?")

Yet, the duty towards his superiors never faded. (Perhaps that was why he seemed to gel so well with Noah, despite him being a Kevesi; the off-seer had settled into a natural leadership role alongside Mio, and Taion had subconsciously acted accordingly.)

Perhaps that was why...he needed to at least provide assurance to Mio, whose burden seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

xxxx

/Time: During Chapter 5, just after arriving at Erythia Sea/

/Vinisog Holm Camp, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/

The stars had always seemed rather beautiful, from Erythia Sea; particularly on nights with the dancing aurora. Though Taion's memories from his early terms — spent training at the Castle before being assigned to Lambda — were all but a blur by this point, the memory of the sky had not yet faded. (Now, if only the eyepatch would stop interfering with his depth perception...!)

It may have been an awkward segue in hindsight, given that they had just been talking about deaths at sea...but Taion had a rare moment alone with Mio. So he had to at least bring it up now, if only for Mio's sake. "The other half of my reason."

"Oh," said Mio with surprise. "Are we talking about that now?"

"About why I'm here, yes. Right? I told you there was a second half." His first reason — to imbue as many memories as possible into Nimue's pocket watch, as a memento for the future to carry on — had been only possible due to Ouroboros. His second? Well, it would have been his goal regardless: the debt he owed Nimue, Isurd, Teach, and so many others merited nothing less. "It's you, Mio."

"Me?" she asked with genuine surprise. "What do you-?"

"You want to leave an impression," he continued. "On all of us, and the world. Don't you?" Despite her frustration, he forced himself to talk. (If he didn't say it now, his courage might fail entirely.) "I can only hazard a guess at what you'd want it to be...and even then I'm not confident I'd guess right. But...let me just say this: you've only got...a little over a month left. We can't change that fact. It doesn't give you much time to leave your mark." He wondered if Nimue, in her final moments, had felt the frustration Mio now felt; wondered if Isurd and Teach had ever despaired of their inevitable demise, even as they stood strong in the face of all their subordinates. (If he hadn't gone on this journey, would Mio have always seemed the same as them: untouchable paragons, who he could barely even begin to help?) "If...there were anything I could do to give you time...if it were in my power, I would!"

(At long last...the coward has passed on.)

"Not just me," he added, looking solemnly at Mio. "Sena, too. And Noah. We all think that way." When his erstwhile senior looked away, he immediately wondered if he had stepped out of order. "Mio...?"

"Sparks," she choked out, audibly trying not to cry. "You're making me tear up here, man."

"Uh...sorry. That wasn't my intention!" Way to go Taion, you blithering mudder-

"No, thank you," said Mio, interrupting his internal tirade before it could get going. "Nimue's doing?" she asked with a knowing expression.

"Huh?" he dumbly said.

"You were even being nice to Eunie. Stuff like that."

"Oh...oh, really?" (Now everything regarding his Ouroboros partner was in a quite separate league, so he promptly shoved it all away to ignore until later.) Nervously adjusting his glasses, he muttered, "I'd never even thought about it."

With a compassionate smile, she added, "Let's give thanks, if we ever see one of those trees of hers."

"A Saffronia...?" If Nimue's pocket watch could be a vessel to carry memories and dreams into the future...so could a tree, right? "Right...I think that's a great idea."

They briefly stared for a time at the stars, until Mio — thanking him once more for the pep talk — returned to the island cavern where they and the Lost Numbers were resting. Sure enough, like clockwork, Eunie emerged soon after. "Being a busybody, huh?"

"What do you mean?" he inquired.

Putting her hands behind her head, the winged girl remarked, "You think often enough about Noah and Mio being busybodies when we Interlink. Thought you'd give yourself a hand at it?"

"...ah." Sometimes, he rued the fact that such a troublesome woman had access to his most precious and impactful memories. (Yet, he didn't mind. He would never mind, all protests to the contrary.) "Says the busybody par excellence. Ashera, Gray, all your questions to Dr. Hollis about babies-"

Eunie slugged him in the shoulder. "Arsehole."

For some reason, Taion enjoyed the rough reaction; any sign that he had actually gotten to his partner was something to savor, as bizarre as it seemed. "Although...things are different with Noah, aren't they?"

"How d'you mean?"

"I mean, we'd all do what we can for our comrades...but the way you feel about Lanz is different than how you feel about Noah. Just like how I feel about Sena is different than how I feel about Mio...am I wrong?"

Eunie, to her credit, then respond immediately. "Hmm," she murmured, crossing her arms. "...well...even if his off-seeing got on my nerves, I would have followed Noah anywhere. Lanz would have done the same. You and Sena would have let Mio lead you into the thickest of messes, right?"

"Right. Why do you feel that way, about Noah?"

"...well, he's the leader. Even if he doesn't know everything, he's the one I trust to get us out of trouble. Same with you and Mio, innit?"

(It was times like this he was grateful to have had Eunie as a partner; she understood.) "Yes...even if we can make our own choices now, it's different with them...to trust that they're the ones who'll see us through, to the end." Nimue and Isurd had provided him the foundation; Teach had helped pull him to his feet, in a dark and dreary period of his life; Mio had been a beacon, shining a light on his path to the future. "Whatever we can do to help them...it'll never be enough. But that won't stop us from trying."

"Yeah..." she admitted with a small smile. "...the sky out here's real pretty."

Looking fondly at the aurora, he agreed. "Yes...it is."

xxxx

Taion would fulfill his duty to the utmost, all the way to the very end.

Little wonder, that in that excruciating month in Agnus Castle's prison, he would lose himself to grief and despair: pounding at the floor with impotent anguish during that last night before the Eclipse; weeping with frustration and agony as Mio vanished during her Homecoming.

Little wonder, that when M and Mio's subterfuge became known, and Mio turned out to be alive, that his heart leapt with joy.

What does a student owe to their teacher?

What does a subordinate owe to their senior?

What does a soldier owe to their commanding officer?

What does an inferior owe to their superior?

Life was complicated; not everything would go according to plan, even if he followed his orders to the letter. Yet that changed nothing about how Taion felt.

("I know what I have to do!" Taion roared, staring at the imperious Z within Origin's depths. Even as footage of Nimue's last moments played on the immense screen, he did not falter. "I work to better myself, so I won't make the same mistakes!" With those words, he shattered his chains.)

As far as he was concerned...he owed them everything.

xxxx

Chapter Text

Moebius.

Z had been the first. Then came Y and X. They were pure, in a sense.

All that came afterwards...were recruits, pulled from the neverending cycle of rebirth, to become greater arbiters of the Endless Now. Eventually, they gained a unique title, to signify their role in the great drama: Consul.

The ways they chose to go about perpetuating the Endless Now would vary. To speak of all their exploits — largely wretched, with strange glimmers of intrigue here and there — would take a lifetime, and then some.

The man known as Triton was no exception.

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Number of Years Prior to the Main Plot/

/Origin/



Consul T couldn't remember if there had been a predecessor to his particular title. (There probably had been one. Right? Surely he hadn't been the first.) He'd been Moebius for so long that certain things had started to bleed together.

(Y, K, I, G, and F had occasionally remarked on his tendencies as of late, since he had become a bit of an outlier amongst them all. F, in particular, had told him that he was experiencing symptoms of dementia.)

(Feh, yer fit as a fiddle. So what if your memory's gettin' spotty? So long as the Colony under your jurisdiction keeps fueling their Flame Clock, they can butt out.)

He found himself in the theater less and less, these days; it was simply too dull, too lacking in excitement. Even the inevitability of his subordinates' deaths — a whole generation, guaranteed to be dead and gone within ten years! — at least had some level of variety to it.

To just sit here, like Z did? Doing nothing but watching bloody movies on repeat? He'd be even madder than he already was. And I'm a bit off my rocker these days anyhow...hmm. What's a rocker? Seems familiar. Looking at the screen, his eyes focused on the image of a golden Consul, slicing through automated drones and the bodies of soldiers belonging to neither Keves nor Agnus. Hmm. Those landlubbers are from the City, aren't they? The ferocity with which N fought seemed strangely vigorous, lacking the detachment that most Moebius had for their playthings. It also struck a chord...somehow. Why did it ring a bell? Bah, this is gonna stick on me like a Krabble with one too many barnacles...

"Your presence is unexpected, T," said a cool voice.

Turning his head, T looked towards the entrance to the theater; N was quietly strolling past the seats, Sword of the End humming on his hip. "Back from one of yer little excursions, N? Ye seem a mite too unhappy for doing what ye do best."

"Dealing with riffraff is a chore, at best." Gazing at the screen, N coldly observed his past self's actions: eviscerating the most recent incarnation of Ouroboros. "They were not up to par with their predecessors. Even their potential was lacking. Best to put them down, before hope could turn their lives into a misery."

...ah. That's what it was. A chime's lonely ring; a spark lighting a flame amidst a gusty plain; improbably, an old memory came to mind. "You seemed pretty incensed when dealing with them there Cityfolk."

"They present themselves as those who would stop the flow. As outsiders to the cycle of rebirth that we've cultivated with Keves and Agnus, they can only be allowed to reach so far." He spoke as one discussing the tides at sea, or as a man mildly irritated by a bug he had stepped on.

"Heh, any other day and I'd be agreeing with you. But that ain't what I'm talkin' about." Rising to his feet, T peered down at the smaller lad. Intimidation wasn't the point; ensuring he had the man's full attention, was. "I'm reminded of the fact that you were the one who destroyed the first incarnation of the City. At Hope's Rest, wasn't it? It was a right nasty bit of business."

"What of it?"

"Well...it seems awful odd for someone of yer caliber to carry a grudge for so long. I mean, ye were slicin' and dicin' with such anger, anybody with a pair of eyes would be able to tell that ye hated those poor scallywags."

"Do you have a point?" N's expression hadn't changed one iota.

"Well, for those who have lived as long as we have, hating those lads and lasses would be unsporting! So it makes me wonder...just who is it that you hate so much?" Narrowing his eyes, expression hidden by his charming buccaneer's helm, T asked, "Is that why you don't cover your whole face like the rest of us? So that you don't forget the face of the person you despise?"

Finally, there was a smidgen of fury, in the narrowing of the eyes. "You'd best take care of your words, Consul T. The last time we dueled did not end so well for you."

...well, that doesn't seem right. "Hmm. I think I'd remember havin' a scrap with the likes of ye. But ye ain't the sort for lyin' either...guess our fight must not have meant much!" Laughing to himself, Consul T moved around N's still form, ignoring the icy daggers of his stare. "Blimey, my mind must be goin' places..." he jauntily said, strolling through the long tunnel leading to the theater's exit.

(In the end, that sort of hate just didn't sit right with him, anymore...if it ever had.)

And all the while, Z just watched the perpetual flow.

xx

Right as Triton prepared to warp out of the theater, Consul M stepped out of the shadows of the exit doors. "Ahoy, little lass."

"...my apologies for his behavior," remarked Agnus's silver Consul.

"Well blow me down, a Consul apologizing for another Consul, to another Consul? What will they think of next..." Peering at her golden eyes, he wondered what it was that she saw when she looked in a mirror. (Half the time, he completely forgot what his own face was supposed to look like.) "...tell me somethin'. If he's that gripped by hate, even after this long...what grips ye?"

"...I'd like to say that it's hope," she whispered. "Otherwise, all I'd have left is regret...and I don't want to be in such a wretched place."

...poor, unfortunate soul. Chuckling sadly, he patted M on the shoulder. "Hope's a dangerous thing, for people who live as long as we do, I think. So's regret. Ye might as well just enjoy every moment as it comes!"

M looked intently at him, piercing him softly. "...is that all you have to live for?"

"Aye. What else is there, for those like us?" (The fact that such sentiments slipped into an empty hollowness was ignored. Maybe he'd forget about it?) "At least ye can control what it is that tickles yer fancy. One of the perks of bein' a Moebius!" With a joyful grunt, Triton warped away, fully intent on finding a monstrous enemy to pound his fists into.

(Better for you to forget, and become an ignoramus, than to become like N or M...)

xxxx

After the passage of many years, that incident would disappear into the increasingly murky soup that was Triton's mind, just like so many others.

Even so, embers of those memories remained, still flickering beneath the ashes.

Thus it was, that even though Triton felt a more immediate kinship with Lanz — a headstrong scallywag like that was far more amenable to someone who had become as rambunctious as he! — he couldn't help but feel an odd flicker of pleasure at the sight of Noah and Mio: living with expressions full of determination, and hope for the future.

If anyone would have the insight to ask him why he felt that way...well, he wouldn't have had the foggiest clue as to why.

But it was a good feeling for a salty seadog like him to have.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 3, after Ouroboros departs Colony 4, but before meeting Valdi/

/Sparres Barr, Ribbi Flats, Fornis Region/

On their trek through Ribbi Flats, a particularly ornery Ardun — Perspicacious Oldar, per the warnings of Meemoo at the Llyn Nyddwr Camp — had prompted Eunie and Taion to resort to their Interlinked form. This is what we get for tryin' to avoid all the snuffing Ignas and Tirkins fighting each other, inwardly grumbled Eunie as her wings fired brilliant bolts of energy at the ornery Ardun. So instead we have to deal with this mudder!

Whinge later, chided Taion's voice in that strange mental space they shared in their Ouroboros form. Focus on reviving the others! A sudden stomping rampage had knocked them all down, delivering a surprising amount of concussive force that had incapacitated their comrades.

Hold on, I'm on it! After finally getting some distance, Eunie's wings flickered with a restorative light; it spread like a wave over the grassy field, settling on the collapsed forms of Noah, Mio, Lanz, and Sena. Sparks, it's getting hot...

Cancel the Interlink, we need to regroup-

"Look out!" cried Riku from beyond the edge of the immediate battlefield.

"Eh?" muttered Eunie, too distracted by how swiftly her Ouroboros form was heating up; with surprising swiftness, the wounded Ardun smacked her sideways with a swing of his horns. "Ack-!" Snarling, she tried to right herself, cancelling the Interlink-

"-Eunie!" cried Taion, his body soaring through the air.

Eunie could only blink with confusion as the world went topsy-turvy; unlike the orderly falls to the ground their prior decouplings had been, there was no time to control for the landing. "Oh, spark this-"

The duo crashed into the ground in a tangle of limbs, skidding through the grass until their heads smacked into each other-

Darkness.

"...nie? Taion...?" came a muffled voice.



"...ugh, wha...?" murmured Eunie, slowly opening her eyes.

"Easy now." The source of the voice eventually solidified into a big lunk with gray skin, reaching down to pull her up.

"Stop shoutin'," she grumbled, impulsively swatting at Lanz's big hands.

Lanz huffed at her. "Oh fine then, I'll just let ya finish your nap. And who's shouting?"

"Nap...?" Eunie felt for the sore spot on her noggin, wincing at the stinging pain. "Queen's eyelashes, what happened...?"

"Your Interlink cancelled out in midair," explained Mio, hands leaning on her knees. "We had to finish dealing with Oldar first; you two had a rather nasty bump."

Eunie glanced over at Taion; sure enough, his glasses were somewhat skewed, courtesy of the giant bruise forming over his eyebrow. "Oof. That looks nasty."

"At least we've confirmed your head is hard enough to qualify as a dangerous weapon," dryly stated Taion.

"Oi, you what?!" she griped. "I ought to-"

"Let's calm down," said Noah, his voice settling all disputes then and there. "We'll heal you both up and continue moving on."

"Here," softly said Sena, watering two spare cloths for each of them. "Gently hold it against the spots where it hurts."

"And I'm on healing duty," remarked Lanz, having been working on mastering Eunie's Class for the time being. As he pressed the tip of the Gunrod into the ground, he let the healing ether flow in a field of emerald light. "You should be nicer to the medic that's patching you up."

Eunie snorted. "Yeah yeah, don't have to tell me twice," she muttered, glaring back at Taion.

"...we'll have to be careful when cancelling the Interlink in the future," he admitted, looking calmly at her with the one eye that wasn't blocked by swollen flesh. "That could've ended a lot worse for us."

"...'spose it could have," she admitted. What if they had been higher...?

"Better to learn now and suffer a little pain along the way," her partner mused. It was a fair sentiment, either way.

So of course, someone had to ruin the moment. "...though, I gotta say, I caught sight of you two crashing," remarked Lanz with a toothy grin. "It was pretty funny."

"Medics are for healing, not talking," complained Eunie.

Lanz scoffed. "Says the medic whose mouth can never shut up!"

"I'll take your Shieldblade and give you something to shut up about!"

(Off in the distance, Manana cried out, "Ardun has much fatty meat! Will make for excellent stew!")

("Meh meh, make haste!" cautioned Riku nervously. "Volffs looking at us with much hunger...")

("Manana will slice and dice and pack into rations with much speediness!")

"...maybe we should go and help out Riku and Manana?" suggested Sena.

It was a perfect segue from Lanz and Eunie's banter, so Noah and Mio took off with Sena — to drive away the Volffs looking for an easy meal — before Oldar's corpse could dissolve into ambient ether particles.

"And besides, if it weren't for our Ouroboros form, you lot would still be in the dirt!" growled Eunie.

"Yeah, still doesn't mean I can't have a chuckle at your fall!" retorted Lanz.

This left Taion to experience the bickering duo by himself; his sigh of pained defeat said plenty about his opinion on the matter.

xxxx

Still, a lesson learned was a lesson learned.

("Ugh, why do you have to be so snuffin' sensible, Noah?" complained Eunie, some time after the battle with Oldar. "Rae-Bel Tableland is just up there.")

Namely: watch for where and when you cancel an Interlink.

(As the cliffside — laced all over with the purple Bunnit's Bane — loomed ahead of them, Noah looked dryly in Eunie's direction. "Imagine if your Interlink cancelled in midair. It's a long fall.")

Oh, and keep your feet aimed at the ground.

(Eunie's eyes narrowed. "Queen's wings, you're not going to hold that over me, are you...?")

("...")

("...fine, you win Noah.")

(Noah nodded, accepting Eunie's acquiescence to reason. Speaking audibly to the others, he said, "Let's look for a place we can climb from. I'll take a look around here...")

And so the adventure continued.

xxxx

Chapter Text

There was only so much time in the world to do everything.

For those who had a limit of ten years bred into them by Moebius's artificial cycle of rebirth, it was a far more poignant reality.

Numerous heroes currently in command of friendly Colonies had a matter of months to live, if that. Those resurrected at the peak of their life by Consul Y's new process...had even less time. Thus it was, that Noah, Mio, Eunie, Taion, Lanz, and Sena decided they could no longer wait to strike.

With their military strength at its greatest extent, Ouroboros and their allies convened in the City for one last strategy meeting...and to enjoy each other's company, knowing that it was quite possible that some of their number would not survive the final assault on Origin.

This story...is not about that merry gathering.

Instead, we turn to two Queens, who are busy with matters of their own.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, after the completion of Melia's Ascension Quest, prior to Ouroboros's Final Invasion of Origin/

/Lavi Sandbar, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/

Melia Antiqua had briefly considered attending the celebratory events in the City.

But only briefly: she had already visited the City not long before, and given the people her encouragement and royal blessing for the endeavors to come. There was a certain sense of decorum with her station, and she doubted the festivities would rise to that level of dignity. (In fact, she expected there to be a great deal of rabble-rousing.) Besides, she needed to be sober and steely-eyed for the resumption of the attack on Origin; a party would not help with that.

But assisting her fellow monarch with a personal favor? That, she had no issue with.



Thus it was, that the Queens of Keves and Agnus moved past squads of armed Gulkins, all seeming to cower away from the ether roiling off of their forms. Their eyes were focused on a particularly large Gulkin, sitting upon an old yet ornate stone monument that evoked the image of a throne.

"Squaw!" screeched the feathered bruiser, his body bearing some relatively young scars. "Hooman with kat ears and hooman with bird ears! Why you kum to Hero's ground?!"

Nia stepped forward, speaking with authority. "You are trespassing on ground that was decreed forbidden ages ago by Agnus." Looking around, she added, "Where are the bodies of the soldiers that were supposed to guard this place?"

"Kat Lady know old story? Gulkins take pretty stone rooins long ago! Strongest of bird fighters klaim title of Hero! Nasty hoomans try to sneak in, get punished! Bodies thrown to sea for gyaarks to feast! Way of life for long time!" Tapping his talons angrily against the stone, the Gulkin squawked, "Six hoomans kum through, try to fight Hero. But they only distraktion for two sneaksy Nopon that stole old treasure! Then they run away, make mokkery of Hero!"

"...I see," said Nia with a level of forced calm. "Then there's no further reason for you to be here. I kindly request that you leave."

"You have heard the word of the Queen of Agnus," remarked Melia, lightly resting the butt of her staff on the ground. "Depart with your gullery of Gulkins and roost elsewhere. If you do so, Her Majesty will ignore the slights committed against her soldiers, and let the sins of your forefathers remain just that."

'Hero' quacked furiously. "Hoomans always mad! This place Gulkins' by right of konquest!"

"...then a compromise," relented Nia, her ears beginning to twitch. "I only request that I be allowed to spend the night at these ruins. Come tomorrow, we will trouble you no further."

"I highly suggest you accept Her Highness's proposition," remarked Melia. "It should satisfy both parties."

"Here Hero's answer!" Reaching for his great bow, Hero charged forward with a mighty war cry.

Both Nia and Melia — silently sighing out of frustration — gripped their respective weapons. The Anima Sword and Elemental Staff sang with light, and they let their ether flow.

xx

/Five Minutes Later/

The nearby Gulkins, all but petrified by the light show that had commenced upon their leader's perch of choice, cried out of panic as a smoking, moaning pile of feathers and flesh rolled down the stairs. They looked upon the two interlopers — the Cat Lady holding a curved scimitar while two other swords floated behind her; the Bird Lady's form exuding ethereal wings of pure energy — and knew fear.

"Take your leader and get out," hissed Nia.

The Gulkins grabbed Hero's groaning body and fled in a flurry of feathers and shrieks.

xx

Melia watched the bipedal birds depart, listening intently as Nia muttered, "Damned Moebius." Looking at her fellow Queen, the Gormotti Flesh Eater elaborated, "Before I went into hiding...there was a squadron of guards dedicated to preserving these ruins, to keep them safe from interlopers. Someone had to have rescinded those orders while I was asleep."

"From Moebius's standpoint, it would only have been logical. Why devote soldiers to protect a past that has no more meaning, in their eyes?" remarked Melia.

"I bet they used my face to make that change too, the damned blighters," snarled Nia, no longer interested in keeping up pretenses. Turning back towards the ancient stone ruin, she murmured, "The Place of Heroes Past...that's what it's labelled as on all of our maps."

"The resting place of an old friend? The remnant of a tomb, or mausoleum?" inquired Melia.

Shaking her head, Nia answered, "Not quite." Stepping around the stone monument, now bearing an empty chest, she explained, "It was the resting place of a certain sword; the third sword, for Pyra and Mythra's combined form. Her name was Pneuma."

It felt strange, after being imprisoned for so long, to hear Nia speak of her family out in the open; it probably felt just as weird for Nia to actually say the names aloud, to someone who knew of the Old Worlds. "Even after all this time, the ways in which your world operated sound bizarre."

Nia smiled sadly, brushing at her Core Crystal. "And if I didn't know Poppi, I'd say the existence of 'machine people' would be the stuff of wild stories."

The two Queens quietly sat down at the top of the steps, looking out over the rest of Lavi Sandbar and Erythia Sea. Melia's eyes wandered from north to south, gazing solemnly at the distant Castle of Agnus; staring intently at the swirling red and black vortex hiding Origin from sight; and finally, looking forlornly at the distant form of the Great Sword, the blade of the Mechonis.



Finally, Melia asked, "What was the reason you requested my aid?"

"...this is an important place to me," admitted Nia. "And even if you weren't a part of my world, the fact that you remember is enough. Because...I dread the possibility of failure. That all of our efforts this time will amount to nothing. That for fear of this world coming to an end...the Endless Now will look all too alluring for some."

"It is a temptation everyone must struggle with. I think that is why Noah and the others are having a night of festivities in the City," observed Melia, relishing the quiet breeze of the sea, and the familiar scent that evoked memories of Eryth. "If they lose, it matters not if the world ends...but if they win, then the world they know will still come to an end." Such was the world engineered by Z: by keeping Origin in a perpetual stasis — lest it finally reactivate and complete its task — he ensured that the defeat of Moebius would necessarily result in the end of Aionios. "A wretched trap, to entice people to let the status quo continue...no matter how horrible it is."

"Even if it hurts...the status quo can be comfortable. Because stepping into the unknown, without fear...that can be terrifying." With a melancholy expression on her face, Nia shifted power to her Core Crystal; water consolidated and took shape behind them, acting out a memory that still echoed with force and emotion. "I came here...to remind myself of that."

Melia looked over her shoulder, looking as the water took form: one was obviously Nia, albeit somewhat younger, less lean; the other was of a boy on the threshold to manhood, who could only be Rex; the rest were shapeless phantoms. Clearly, the focus was on Nia and Rex; through the medium of the ether, Melia could hear Nia's memory as she remembered it.

"I am burdened no longer! Not by my past, not by Jin," passionately said Nia's echo. "I am finally free!" Rex's response was somewhat muffled; perhaps those words (ones of confusion, perchance?) didn't quite stick in comparison to what would come after? "I'm no longer afraid. This is who I am, Rex! What's the point in living if I have to hide?" With hands upon those of Rex's echo, Nia's phantom said, "Thank you for helping me see. I love you, Rex!"

"...wha-?!" dumbly repeated the watery specter.

Melia's entire body cringed at the response. "He seemed...rather surprised."

Nia laughed, unable to suppress a quiet hiccup. "Y-Yeah...I just had to say what I felt. That's all I thought about...showin' my gratitude." As her memory continued to play out — a clone of water, slicing through nameless phantoms with a long blade — the Queen added, "If I didn't speak, it would have made the whole show a bit...pointless.." As she spoke, Nia's phantasm collapsed, surrounded by shapeless water; Rex's echo suddenly leapt in, slicing away at the memory of old enemies. "...but Rex still managed to surprise me."

"Rex..." breathed Nia's copy.

"Nia," said Rex's echo, turning back to face her. "I love you too!"

Melia blinked.

"Huh?" dumbly repeated Nia's specter, an ironic echo of Rex's own dumbfoundedness.

"I love you...and all you guys!" (Melia sucked in a pained breath through her teeth.) "So...let's do this, together!"

Nia laughed in tandem with her memory. "That's just like you! It's all I could ask for." Rising to her feet, Nia's echo held out her sword, letting Rex's copy grab hold. "Let's give 'em hell!"

As the water finally drooped to the ground, Melia dryly stated, "I think you may have overwhelmed the poor boy."

"...he was just a boy, back then," admitted Queen Nia, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "With an adult's mentality towards finances, to be fair...but a child, in many other ways. He grew a lot, during our journey...we all did. And I liked the man he was becoming in front of me."

Arching an eyebrow, Melia couldn't help but wonder. "Given the family you've spoken of...perhaps his words were more literal than you believed, at the time?"

"I asked him, years later. He said...he was still figuring things out. And not just in matters of the heart." Nia impulsively giggled, unable to stop the tears from flowing now. "To find out he was still willing? That Pyra and Mythra were more than fine with it, because it made me happy? I could barely believe it! And..." Furiously wiping at her eyes, Nia had finally begun blubbering. "B-Bloody hell...was never any good at bein' the regal type..."

"Even with your lessons from the late Lord of Echell?" Melia asked, knowing of Nia's history: a Blade bonded to a sickly girl, the daughter of a Gormotti lord who had gone to painful lengths to try and save his family, to the point of falling from high society into destitution.

"Agh, even then. The fact I came to be a Queen is bloody weird as is." (But the story of how Nia ascended to royalty was a story for another time.) "All this high-falutin' nonsense...Niall would have been better suited for it. So would Raqura, or even that dunderhead Zeke..."

"You do a grave disservice to yourself," reassured Melia. "In the face of such harrowing circumstances, you have performed far more admirably than I." Were it not for my capture, Z would not have solidified his control over the world. Much of the suffering that everyone has endured...is because of me. Yet another burden upon her shoulders: one she would carry with all her strength.

"...after so long, I'm so close to seeing my family again," whispered Nia, her shoulders shuddering with grief. "But I see Mio, charging into battle, and the fear of failure claws its way back, no matter how much I try to fight it, and I hate it...!"

What a wretched state of being, to present such a strong face at all times. Melia did not deny that Nia lacked a regal bearing, even if she personally believed her to be a fine woman in her own right; the demeanor demanded of a ruler required much, and was not for everyone. Regardless of how she had gotten there, Nia was nonetheless recognized as a Queen; her sense of duty (or perhaps her stubbornness) had kept her going. As such, the burdens of her heart were not for the people to witness or carry.

Without her loved ones, how horrid had the burden become upon Nia's shoulders?



As Nia continued sobbing, Melia thought back, to the words she still carried in her heart...

xxxx

No matter how long Melia lived, and no matter how much failure she had endured to get this far...the words of Sorean Antiqua would always remain.

On the loss of the men under her command: "We will grieve for them, but it could not have been avoided. It was their duty and honor to fight beside you. They were all aware of your limits: keep those feelings of frustration close to you. It will help you to remember the debt you owe to those that have fallen."

On her triumph within the High Entia Tomb, even though it had required the aid of her friends: "Kallian has informed me of what happened. There is no reason to doubt your legitimacy to the throne."

On what was shared with Shulk during their private meeting, relayed to her after the fact at a much later time: "She is a lucky girl, to have met such unselfish people. In the times to come, a ruler will need support from individuals like you." In like manner: "I ask this not as Sorean Antiqua, but as a father. I do not demand that you act as Melia's protector. But I would be honored if you would be her friend. This is my humble request."

On his final lesson to her, during his final moments: "Melia, the hope of our people...you must not cry." Despite her protests, he nonetheless remained strong: "To become the hope of the High Entia is a fate that you choose for yourself. As long as you remember this, it is certain that you will be worthy of that name. But remember this also: it is not because you are the hope of the High Entia that I love you...it is because I love you, that I wish for you to become that hope." With his last breath: "Melia. Cry for as long as you must...but when...your tears...are dry..."

Even now, the ideal of her father resided within.

xxxx

...and resolved to live up to those lofty standards once more. "If you require a shoulder to cry on, then you have mine, Queen Nia."

"D-Don't be stupid," she impulsively replied. "Y-You've already got t-too many burdens to be worryin' about me..."

"You are my friend, Nia," insisted Melia, speaking with the authority of one who had been raised in a household of royal lineage and the consequent expectations. "A ruler is nothing without their people...yet without friends to help carry the load, our burdens would be insurmountable. Even if we hail from different worlds, I am glad to have met you...so your tears are not a burden, and never will be."

As if given permission, Nia embraced from the side, sobbing into her shoulder: it was a moment of weakness that a Queen could ill afford. Who else could understand, but another one of equal standing? Until all things were restored, there was no one on Aionios who could understand Nia like Melia could...and vice-versa. (Even if, in the grand scheme of things, Nia had not always been so subtle with her questions about how a proper Queen should behave.)

Before long, the tears went dry, and Nia finally sat up. "...thanks."

"You are most welcome." With the bout of sadness and melancholy finally passed, Melia asked, "It occurs to me that I have not heard many stories about your journey. Nothing beyond the big picture, at least." It was no surprise: with the focus primarily being on building Origin, to stop their worlds' mutual annihilation...and then, within the Endless Now, their seemingly unending war against Moebius...there had been little time, to speak of lighthearted matters. Tonight would perhaps be the last moment available to them. "Perhaps about this 'Zeke'? You haven't spoken of him in any great detail."

Nia, seemingly grateful for the segue, grinned toothily. "Ah, you don't wanna hear about a dunderhead like that, would ya?"

"I lived with 'Reyn Time'. I'm sure I'll manage."

"...Reyn Time?" repeated Nia.

"Perhaps I should explain..."

And so two Queens — bonded together by fate, by their royal station, and by mutual loneliness carried over from worlds which no longer existed except in memory (and oh, how greatly they hoped for those worlds to once more come to be, in the future yet unwritten...!) — passed the night away, speaking of fond memories and basking in the warmth they contained.

For tomorrow, they would once more return to their posts at the Castles; the moment Ouroboros commenced its final battle with Z, they would use their power — fully recovered at long last — to sunder the hold of the Flame Clocks over their people.

Tomorrow...would be a new day. This, they swore.

xxxx

Chapter Text

Aionios was not immune to those with ambition: despite Moebius's manipulated drama, the spirit and the will of any given person could not be repressed entirely.

Variables were inevitable, amidst the slew of constants: the long grind of the eternal war, the maximum lifespan of ten years, and the underhanded trickery from Moebius themselves, were all that kept the variables from taking root, and blooming into something new.

As a reflection of the desires which gave birth to Moebius, one could say that the world itself refused to change.

Hence the harpoon cannons, for example: in a time long past, Colony 29 had engineered these devices for use in combat operations within the dense jungles of the Maktha Wildwood, where hover-type Levnises were ill-equipped to operate. They were especially necessary against the mighty Colony Upsilon, which was an ever-present threat in the Pentelas Region, on the proverbial doorstep of Keves Castle.

For a relatively short period in the world's frozen history, tales were abundant of soldiers sliding upon thick cables, traversing whole sections of the Maktha Wildwood in minutes whereas before it would take hours, or even days. Colony 11 placed them around the Hovering Reefs for practice purposes; plucky Agnians — unable to crack the internal protection of the contraption to get an understanding of how to reproduce them — stole numerous harpoon cannons, repurposing them throughout the Cadensia Region for practice. Outposts on high places within the Fornis and Aetia Regions were suddenly at risk of being rendered vulnerable by these tools; even certain Levnises had been retrofitted to use these harpoon cannons to drag down flying vessels.

Alas, soldiers were rather vulnerable when sliding on these cables; in the open air, bereft of the dense overgrowth of the Maktha Wildwood, they were easy targets. In certain high-intensity battles, whole swathes of these tools were destroyed, and Colony 29 — the only manufacturer of these contraptions — had been annihilated. Furthermore, the greater activity within the Maktha Wildwood that these harpoon cannons had allowed for? It had only aroused the ire of great and terrible monsters within its depths, forcing Upsilon to retreat to safer ground.

In a matter of generations, the utility of the harpoon cannons ceased to be, as their use died out due to a lack of production. The inherent defense systems of these devices rendered them unable to be destroyed except by Ferronis-grade ether discharge, which was deemed a waste of resources by both sides. As such, most of the cables had simply been reeled back in — after all, allowing easy access to your own bases from distant vantages was simply foolish — and left alone: why worry about a useless technology that no longer had any use?

(As for the Hovering Reefs? Keeping the cables had been easily justified, because they reduced the risk of aerial drift.)

The harpoon cannons had been an interesting diversion. But a diversion only; the emotions and despair of those involved in the day-to-day drama of eternal war drew greater eyes. (And so Moebius was content in simply letting them be.)

In certain locales, some cables — forged from a unique metallic alloy that was resistant to rust — remained attached, abandoned instead of being deactivated: let the monsters have them, it had been said.

Time passed. Knowledge of the harpoon cannons, how to maintain them, and how to traverse them, simply died out. The status quo had returned.

After a time untold, an Agnian Colony called Tau would take up residence within the Maktha Wildwood's depths.

Lacking any understanding as to the origin of the harpoon cannons, Tau nonetheless incorporated them into the skillset of its soldiers, using the cables to traverse whole swaths of the jungle's expanse.

Which brings us to the newest incarnation of Ouroboros...

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 4, after completing Juniper's Hero Quest/

/Outskirts of Colony Lambda, Maktha Wildwood, Pentelas Region/



"An intriguing method of travel," remarked Taion; in return for their prior assistance, Juniper — the seventh-termer commander of Colony Tau — had been willing to instruct Ouroboros in the art of 'rope sliding'. "We've seen similar devices during our travels; are you familiar with how they're produced?"

Juniper shook their head, stating, "We have no clue as to their origin. Tau's original commander went through the trouble of teaching himself how to utilize them, so that every member of Tau could use them ourselves. Why waste something that will give us an edge?"

"Rather risky, innit?" asked Eunie, gazing over the edge at the misty depths of the jungle-infested city. "One false move, and you're snuffed."

"That's why we practice. No soldier goes on an away assignment until they've mastered sliding on these metal ropes."

"Why not just go through the buildings?" asked Noah. "Is the time saved worth the risk?"

"...yes," admitted Juniper, looking warily at one of the dilapidated skyscrapers; amidst the gloomy fog of the Wildwood, and with the sun's light obscured by the great trees, they appeared as mere silhouettes: shadowy monuments to some bygone era of great and terrible works. "There are...things, which lurk in the dark." That was all she wrote, so to speak.

(What remnants of the Old World lurked within the great expanse of Morytha, still lingering on into this stillborn era? Perhaps that's a story for another time...)

"You know, why can't we just crawl?" asked Lanz, as one pointing out the obvious. "Even if it'd take longer, it would still be easier than doin' all that."

Juniper simply turned toward Lieutenant Raine. The ninth-termer, whose ether lines ended in sharp protrusions of solid crystal around his ears, sighed and wrapped a long, fibrous rope around the tall man's waist.

Lanz blinked with confusion. "Hey, what gives-?"

"Sena, could you please hold onto the other end?" asked Juniper.

"Oh! Uh...sure."

Thus it was that Lanz slowly crawled along the metal cable, keeping his ankles locked together as his hands pulled him along. "See! No big deal!" he called out, even as Sena and Raine kept a tight hold on their end of the rope.

Taion suddenly frowned; did he hear someone counting down?

"Five...four...three...two...one..." whispered Juniper.

At that instant, the origin of the cable hummed with activity; there was a loud sparking noise, followed by a surge of ether soaring along the surface of the cable. The green energy field crackled, leaping onto Lanz-!

"SPARKS!" yelled Lanz, impulsively letting go. "Oh COME ON-!"

"HANG ON!" screamed Sena. The length of rope went taut, as she and Raine dug their heels in. Without another word, Noah, Mio, Eunie, and Taion took hold along the rope, arresting their forward progress. After several frantic seconds, Sena cried out, "Lanz?!"

"Are you okay?!" yelled Noah.

From far beneath the ledge, a distant reply echoed back. "Just...hangin' around...!"

"And that's why we learned to rope slide," remarked Juniper, leaning over the side to watch as the others pulled Lanz back up. "We've not tested the limits of the defense systems on that device...but since we learned how to rope slide, there was no point in doing so. Why risk unnecessary injuries?"

"Says the clod who let him fall with just a bit a rope to hold him up," grumbled Eunie under her breath.

"...your point has been made," grunted Taion, pulling hard until Lanz had finally cleared the edge.

Noah and Eunie crowded around their podmate, inquiring as to his welfare. "I'm fine, was just startled, is all," assured Lanz.

"...so, fancy another go?" joked Eunie, trying to ease the tension.

"Snuff off, Eunie," griped Lanz. "I'll learn how to sparkin' slide down the sparkin' cable!"

"...maybe we should go grab some food from the Canteen first, and calm the nerves," offered Noah. "We shouldn't be doing this without Riku and Manana anyhow."

(Meanwhile, within the Colony, Manana was listening with intrigue as to how the resource-deficient Tau had managed to stretch their food supply without sacrificing recipe quality.)

(As for Riku, he was haggling with the local traderpon, as any good Nopon worth their salt could do.)

"...good idea," relented Mio, her eyes briefly gazing at the mists of Maktha before turning back towards the gates of Colony Tau.

xxxx

It was perhaps no surprise that Mio was the first to cross: she had always been an overachiever.

So it was that she remained by the end of cable, waiting patiently for the others to master Juniper's lessons.

It was a small thing, to wait for them...truly. She believed this.

Yet small things can pile up, and become big. Such it was, the hour or so spent waiting for everyone to make it to the other side.

The time spent waiting; the time that would be spent needing to replenish their stolen food supplies; the time that would be required in order to stop the Keves Castle Annihilator, once they learned of its existence...it would all linger in the back of Mio's mind, raring to burst. Noah, alas, would be the unlucky recipient of the ensuing emotional explosion.

But that's a story you all know, isn't it?

Thus, we turn the page: once learning the art of rope sliding to Juniper's satisfaction, Ouroboros continued onward, towards an uncertain future...

xxxx

Chapter Text

("What's that in aid of?" asked Taion, staring at Lanz's outstretched hand.)

It's all rather curious.

("Do the right thing." Lanz wiggled his hand in emphasis. "Come on.")

There are myriad reasons as to why Taion may have refused to return Lanz's gesture.

(Taion looked almost affronted. "Wh-...Sorry, but I refuse to debase myself like this!" With a silent huff, he walked away from the portable table, leaving Lanz hanging.)

Perhaps the gesture was unique to Keves. Maybe Taion had often seen Kevesi soldiers give each other a high-five after victories in battle, indelibly associating it with dead Agnians in his mind? Or rather, had he been the victim of a failed 'high five' before, only to jokingly be told that he was 'too slow'?

The imagination is rather inventive, and can come up with all sorts of ideas and hypothetical solutions...

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 4, in the morning, prior to Noah and Mio's flute exchange/

As the sound of Lanz and Sena's rhythmic exertions — if nothing else, Taion couldn't fault their consistency when it came to calisthenics — echoed through the early morning, the group's tactician quietly took the first sip of the morning brew. Hmm. It sits well, but the texture could be a bit better. Whilst charting their path for the upcoming day on his Iris, he briefly registered Riku's attempt to wake up Manana when Eunie entered his peripheral vision. At the sight of her somewhat cheeky look — then again, when was she not cheeky? — Taion quietly deactivated it so he could give her his full attention. "Good morning."

"Hey," she answered with a jaunty salute. "You got a cup ready?"

"I wasn't aware I'm supposed to be your personal quartermaster," dryly remarked Taion, even as he nonetheless grabbed a second tea cup.

"Well, you're up already, might as well save time," she remarked with a grin. Looking over his shoulder, she then asked, "So, what was up with you and Lanz? You in a row or something?"

As he poured hot tea into the empty cup, Taion wondered what she was on about. "Not that I'm aware of. What about me and Lanz?" he asked with honest curiosity.

"Last night. You left him hanging," she said matter-of-factly, sipping from her tea. (Her head wings briefly extended, a sign that she was savoring the flavor; the few brief flaps that followed indicated she was satisfied with the taste.)

Taion pulled his gaze away from her wings. "Hanging?"

"You know?" She held up her right hand. "This."

"...oh." Was that what she was referring to? "Is it that big of a deal?"

"Well, it was kind of rude."

Taion huffed. "Given everything we've gone through, it seems rather silly for us to be engaging in such childish gestures." He took a definitive sip from his tea, punctuating his point.

Eunie's deadpan stare said volumes about her opinion. "Taion. A high five is not childish."

"Yes it is," he said matter-of-factly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you pullin' my wings?"

"Of course not, why would I?"

"A high five is so snuffin' normal, I can't believe you're that serious about it."

Taion impulsively adjusted his glasses before remarking, "I'm not unfamiliar with gestures signifying camaraderie amongst soldiers. But a high five is simply...silly. Juvenile."

Eunie audibly scoffed, downing the rest of her tea in one gulp. "Now I know you're pullin' my wings."

"I am not."

Crossing her arms, Eunie demanded, "Then tell me. Why's a high five so silly? I want an answer."

Taion's eyes widened with genuine befuddlement. "I can't believe you're asking me to justify something so trivial."

"The fact it's trivial is precisely why I wanna know," she griped.

"I don't believe this..."

(And so, as Noah and Mio had their very touching and emotional reconciliation amidst the morning sunrise, Eunie and Taion were having a serious debate about whether or not the 'high five' was indeed a childish gesture.)

xxxx

...but sometimes, there doesn't need to be a deep reason.

People are allowed to be petty and unreasonable about lighthearted matters, to no great consequence.

The same was true for Taion.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, during the hunt for the Origin Shards with Queen Nia/

/Welkin Falls, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/

The search for the Origin shards needed to upgrade Samon's ship had brought Ouroboros to Cape Arcaphor. The signal for the Origin shard was coming from behind Welkin Falls: a simple enough task, all things considered.

Then a massive Serprond — bearing the markings of Otherworldly Rodsin, according to their Irises — had emerged from the depths, ambushing them before they could swim towards the waterfall. With a bellowing sound, the flying fish summoned friends in the form of Abyssal Medoozes: hovering creatures that looked like a cross between jellyfish and manta rays. Normally, such a situation would have put them in a tough spot.

Fortunately, they were accompanied by Nia, who made water her proverbial plaything. With a gesture, she had solidified the water into a solid sheet — all without turning it into ice, paradoxically enough — thus granting Ouroboros solid footing so they could fight to their full capacity.

This battle was nearing its end.



"We've got it constrained!" yelled Taion, his Mondo swirling about the wounded Serprond in a fashion that kept it from slipping free.

Lanz, who had adapted Taion's Tactician class for this battle, was forcing his Mondo to stick to the serpentine fish's eyes. Blinded and rendered too weak from injury to slip free, Rodsin was ripe for the reaping. "HURRY AND FINISH IT OFF!" he roared.

Noah and Mio obliged, using their Ouroboros form to bisect the great monster in two with a swing of their violet blade; the two halves began dissolving into ambient ether on the spot.

("Ugh, finally," grunted Nia, finally releasing her hold on the water; everyone promptly fell into the drink.)

"Spark yes!" exclaimed Sena, using the fans of Miyabi's Troubadour class to help her float. "One big monster down!"

Lanz chuckled with the satisfaction of a job well done. "Heh. Another one bites the dust." Turning towards Taion, he was about to congratulate him for their coordination when he noticed something unusual. "What's up?"



Taion was holding his right hand above the water, a complicated expression on his face. "That was good work with the Mondo. I'm complimenting it."

"...you all right, man?" asked Lanz with a raised eyebrow. "I thought this sort of thing was 'debasing'."

"Look, just do it before I change my mind," grumbled Taion, blushing with embarrassment.

Lanz shrugged. "Dunno why you're being weird about it, but I appreciate it." With a grin, he brought his hand out of the water and returned the high five.

xx

At the periphery of the group, Eunie's Iris was glowing. "And saved~" she said with a giggly smirk, forwarding the video to Riku's terminal (because Irises were great for visual displays, but their inherent storage capacity was very limited) for future use.

Nia looked at her with an amused expression, wet hair clinging to her skin. "Cheeky little brat, aren't you?"

Eunie, who had quickly gotten used to how jovial and strangely juvenile Her Agnian Highness could be, simply responded, "What, like you wouldn't in my shoes."

"...that's fair enough," Nia remarked with a sly smile.

xxxx

Alas, in the end, it's fair to say that Taion wouldn't leave Lanz hanging when it counted.

("So, you decided to return the favor, eh~?")

("Eunie?")

("That was cute, finally letting Lanz have his 'high five'.")

("Don't make it such a big deal, please.")

("I'm not the one making it a big deal.")

("Let's not have this debate again...")

And so their journey continued.

xxxx

Author's Note: But seriously, look at this:

Look at her face

These two are going to be the death of me.

Chapter Text

History is a funny thing, in a frozen world that's been severed from time.

In the order of causality, there is a de facto past and future. However, they can never lead anywhere, except back to the beginning: the fundamental order of Aionios, as engineered by Moebius, would not allow for it. Until Moebius was defeated, the world would remain trapped within a perpetual stasis.

Even those who existed outside of the cycle of rebirth, such as the Cityfolk, were not free of this intrinsic limit.

Therefore, it is no surprise that history becomes vague, unknowable, and lost with surprising ease: if there is no true time, then is there truly a past to speak of? With the technology at their hands, keeping accurate records should not have been difficult...and yet, the deeds of the Founders were lost to time and myth, with the truth becoming an unintentional casualty along the way.

(Looking upon the ring of statues — gathered around a plinth bearing the Ouroboros Stone's cage — Noah asked who they depicted. Monica's answer was definitive: "The first Ouroboros. The Founders, we call them...long, long ago, they gained the power of Ouroboros. It let them match Moebius blow for blow. The Cityfolk you see here? We're all descended from them...it was the Queens, so they say: Keves and Agnus, their powers united created Ouroboros.")

Yet, we know that's not quite the reality of what happened...and we have eyewitness testimony to that effect.

(Within the ethereal haze between life and death, Noah watched old memories of his past incarnation, looking at the cage of an Ouroboros Stone alongside Mio and other members of the City: "We finally managed to activate the Ouroboros Stone!" Turning towards it with glee, the nameless man remarked, "...though we don't understand it fully: some functions may still remain hidden. But still, even in its current state, the power it's releasing is more than enough. With this in hand, we can fulfill the wish entrusted to us by the Queen!")

Why is this so?

Because the tales of the Founders, inscribed on those plaques? They spoke of those who fought against Consul N, who restored the City after the first one was destroyed...and that memory was unquestionably from a time long before the events described by the memorials.

Were those incarnations of Noah and Mio, long predating the Founders, truly the first Ouroboros? Had there been others before even them?

(Upon Hope's Rest, Mio recounted memories of long ago, even as she and her friends stared at the first City's rusted, waterlogged corpse: "The City's inhabitants...were the descendants of M, N, and others who became Ouroboros in the past. In exchange for the lease on life they would get as Moebius, Z ordered N to kill the City's people.")

It was hard to say: Aionios did its utmost to ensure that the past mattered not, for it could not change an eternal present, nor could it offer insight to reach a future that would never be. (Such was but one version of Moebius's creed.)

Even so...human nature could not be erased completely. The desire to know where you came from, so that you could understand where you were going: it could not be eliminated or repressed in its entirety.

Such was the story of House Vandham.

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Number of Years Prior to the Main Plot/



Before certain incarnations of Noah and Mio became the Moebius known as N and M, there was a boy: a boy who had just watched his father pass away.

Reaching down for the Blade that had been his father's, it vanished before his eyes.

(The Sword of the End was not for him to wield, for Z's intangible hand ever remained upon its hilt. As far as Z was concerned, only Noah would ever possess that sword...and he would do so, as N.)

Even so, the clothes of Noah remained behind: a sad remnant of his father's all too short life.

Wiping at his eyes, the son of Noah and Mio walked through the woods, intent on living up to the ideal of his father's last words.

("...your Daddy's and Mummy's love, our life, will always be within you. You'll never...be alone. Things will get tough...you'll be hurt. You've a whole host of things to go through...as you head into the future. A time might come...when you'll be on the verge of giving up." Taking his tiny hands into his own, his father looked straight into his eyes. "But you have to keep going. Make friends. Keep them close to you always...that's what Daddy and Mummy did." Amidst the starry shower that his father turned into, his dying breath echoed through the night. "We're with you...now and forever...")

He carried on, falling in with Nopon merchants, seeing all of Aionios with unclouded eyes. As an outsider, he watched the eternal war between Keves and Agnus unfold, even as he grew in strength. Though he counted the Nopon as his friends, he knew not of how to approach the warring soldiers of Keves and Agnus. As for the people of the City? Well...there were too many bad memories involved, to return.

By fortunate happenstance, he met a wanderer that had also abandoned the City: a woman, with whom he fell in love. Begetting a son and a daughter, he vowed to be as compassionate a man as his father had been, and often told them stories of how kind he had been: a swordsman without peer, wielding a violet Blade for the sake of others.

Amidst their travels, they finally came across the hiding place of the true Queen of Agnus, atop the trees in the thickest part of Maktha. There, his family learned of her trials; of her constant flight from Moebius; of how Agnus was led by a mere puppet...and tales of lands all too fantastical, fit only for children's stories. (How little they knew, that Nia was speaking of the True History, of the Old Worlds; she was not yet ready to unveil the truth of Aionios's creation, so dim were her hopes in those days.)

The son of Noah and Mio resolved to learn as much as he could...but he was already quite old, by this point.

Heady on the heroism and valor imbibed from the Queen's fairy tales, his two children swore to carry on in his stead.

("I'll fight my own war," his son said, cracking his knuckles in a fashion that evoked someone eager for a scrap. "Not the war that Moebius has decided for everyone else...but a war of my own choosing. Just like the Great Vandham, in the stories Mama Nia always told us of!")

To his dying day, he never understood why, when his children called Nia 'Mama' — just because her hair was silver and gray didn't mean they had to treat her like a grandparent! — that the royal figure smiled with unfathomable melancholy.

His son and daughter were barely out of their teens when they set off to seek the City, to see with their own eyes the place that Noah and Mio had called home.

(Months later, he would pass away in his sleep...alas, shortly before his children returned to Maktha, with grim tidings of how a Golden Moebius had put the City to the torch. What fortune, that he did not live long enough to hear of how a warrior matching Noah's description had laid waste to his homeland.)

xxxx



History no longer knew what names Noah's son had given his children. (Perhaps a tale, for another time?)

Instead, the firstborn was only known by the title he had taken up for himself, as an oath of sorts: Vandham.

The destruction of the City had been too much for his dear mother to bear, so soon after the loss of his father; even if she had abandoned it, it had still been her home as a child. It wouldn't be wrong to say that she died of a broken heart.

But there was no time to mourn: Agnus, building a new Castle to oversee the ruins of the City — a mockery by Moebius, it could be nothing else! — was now in a much stronger position than before. The true Queen, fearing that her 'Key' would fall into the wrong hands, decided to flee from Maktha, to go on the run once more.

Yet, she left behind a gift, for him and his sister.

("Take this Ouroboros Stone with you," she said with a stern expression, even as her eyes evoked a deep and harrowing sorrow. "You both bear the lineage of Keves and Agnus within you...living symbols of the power their union can bring." Her nails traced the edge of the elaborate cage that kept the Stone's power contained. "Find those of like mind and spirit, if you want to live long enough to fight your own war.")

Vandham and his sister agreed, resolving to carry on.

It was a grand story, in and of itself, of how they met the other Founders...but that was a tale for another day.

Of greater importance, was that upon unlocking the power of the Ouroboros Stone, they learned that the Golden Moebius was seeking out the survivors of the City, to finish the job.

The Founders resolved to themselves: never again.

xxxx

N knew not of where these stubborn fools had come from, fighting with reckless abandon.

Yet, the plains of Kana rumbled from the force of their battle, as the Sword of the End clashed against the hardy skin of three brilliant Ouroboros titans.

(This was not the N of the future, who would refine his skill to the point where his grace was both detached and casual, to the point of seeming boredom; this was an N who still carried fresh memories of life as Noah, who still bore the scars of slaughtering his kin, whose psyche was still an open wound that had yet to scab over from the pitiless march of the Endless Now.)

"Why do you still persist?" he snarled, sweat dripping beneath his golden mask. The six warriors had fought ceaselessly, whilst a seventh — beyond sight and sound, yet still somehow signifying their presence: a threat to intervene, should things go awry for their comrades! — remained in the wings, seemingly willing to let these upstarts fight...and why not? They were winning. "Ouroboros...why do you still struggle?" he growled, all but yelling at this point.

"Because we never learned how to give up!" hissed a graceful giant swinging two swords.

"And we're not going to let you turn the City into a memory!" cried a bulky golem whose right arm was a great cannon, and its left an even greater shield.

The third of the trio was smaller than the other two: lithe, bearing a martial artist's physique. However, the titan's feline ears twitched with each movement of the air that they sensed, enabling it to move with an almost preternatural foresight. "The City will rise again," cried the dual voices of brother and sister, as Vandham willed empowered hands to strike. "AND WE WILL LIVE ON!"

N parried the giant's twin swords and reflected the golem's energy shot, yet was unable to get back into position fast enough to block the titan's fists. A pained snarl slipped past his throat as his golden armor cracked, crumbling to pieces as he skidded along the plains. "You...you dare..." His Moebius Core...had been drained so much...how were they fighting so long in their Interlink...?! "YOU..." A flash of purple emerged in front of him; his eyes darted up, seeing the back of his other half. "M..."

"A Silver Moebius...?" hissed the golem, readying their shield.

"I will withdraw with N," calmly said M, looking over her shoulder with golden eyes that pierced him to the spot. 'You are too weak and wounded to continue,' they said without a word. (The truth of it was obvious...yet his weakness still galled.) "In return...we will trouble you no further."

"A likely story, from murderous Moebius wretches," snarled the sword-wielding giant.

The one who had dealt the finishing blows to N calmly split apart, into a young man and woman. The features were oddly familiar, as if looking through a distorted memory at times gone by: but the girl's ears were not the right shape, and her face was different; the boy had many similarities in the hair and chin, yet bore a face and frame which was far hardier than Noah's had ever been. Why...do they seem so familiar? That, more than anything else, ate at him.

M also seemed to recognize the similarities, for she went still. "Hmm...?"

"...what a sad sight," growled the boy, "for my grandfather's sword to have been turned against his own people; I'm glad my father didn't live long enough to see this day!"

"Yeah!" agreed the girl. "Give back Grandpa Noah's sword!"

(At this, M was shocked into silence.)

N's blood went cold; on an animal level, he was glad that his mask was still on, if only to hide himself in the light of day from these whelps, because they COULDN'T be the progeny of his one and only son, they COULDN'T-!

"...what are your names?" hoarsely asked M, almost stilted.

The girl crossed her arms with a scowl. "And let you scheme for ways to find out more information about us? Not a chance."

"Agreed," said the boy. "But you can call me Vandham."

N (and likewise M, little did he know) seared that name into his heart. Still keeping a hold onto the Sword of the End, he did not protest as M helped him to his feet. He wanted to say so many things...but nothing could escape, in the face of those blue eyes, glaring at him with righteous fury.

(It was as though he were looking into a twisted mirror of Noah: judging him, mocking him...!)

(What do you know? WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW?!)

Then the battlefield of Kana — for it would not be the first time that plain would play host to a titanic clash — faded away; the cooling darkness of the theater house's interior soothed the nerves, as M set him down onto old carpet. "...thank you," he whispered, grip still tight on the hilt of his Blade.

M quietly knelt down, gently removing his fingers from the sword. "...it's strange." Looking up at her wearily, he noticed tears beading up within the corners of her eyes. She continued, "I still...despise what you did, to the City. But to see those of our lineage...born of our son...I feel elated and terrified in equal measure...and it feels like I'm being ripped in two..."

N quietly removed his mask, looking at M in the dark. "...M...Mio..." (It would be one of the last times her name would escape his lips.)

The mere mention of her name caused the tears to flow. "Noah..." Sobbing quietly, she clutched onto him, embracing him tightly.

Amidst their mutual hurt, they lingered for an unknown amount of time...but their wounds would not heal from this.

(Even now, after all this time, he was too weak; even his progeny had proved to be greater, in the end.)

(Do you not understand? Noah is too weak to save anyone: not Mio, not your family, and certainly not yourself.)

N's bitterness would only grow towards the resurgent City, for they served as an everlasting reminder of what he had sacrificed (what he had been too weak to protect). Future Ouroboros candidates...would be particularly subject to his ire, if he ever came across them. (The new City was lucky, that its location would prove so elusive...) All he could do...was trust in the permanence of Mio's presence, in the eternal reality of M and N. (In that...he would find solace.)

M, meanwhile, would only feel greater anguish as her Noah continued to recede, scarred over by the coldness of N...and for a time, she wondered if even her love would be enough to fight back the monstrous despair clawing at her from within...

(And all the while, the name of 'Vandham' would lurk in the back of their minds like an elusive shadow...)

xxxx

It would be a long time, until N and M showed their faces again.

During this grace period, Ouroboros went about rallying those who had survived the destruction of the City; in addition to their number were numerous cradle-born soldiers that had rallied to the banner of Ortiz and Rhodes, being defectors from Keves and Agnus themselves.

Even if the Sword of the End was still lost to them, the power of Ouroboros was hailed as a great boon, and a peerless trump card against anyone that dared to strike against them. With foresight from Ortiz and some Nopon ingenuity, they had proactively fashioned devices which could block the latent power of Ouroboros that lingered in their blood, still strong in those that could trace their lineage to past incarnations of Noah, Mio, and their comrades. Before Keves and Agnus could master the means of detecting that unique energy, the Ferronis which would become the host of the second City was completed...and just like that, they all but dropped from the face of Aionios. So long as they were careful, Moebius would be blind to their very existence: whole swathes of people, removed from the wretched game.

(Hence did the Lost Numbers gain their moniker, which they would carry on into the future...)

But as for Vandham? Despite avenging the death of many, and resurrecting the childhood home of his parents, a life of peace and security did not suit him...nor did the delicate art of governing.

Thus, after much discussion, he left his share of authority with his sister: the one who would in the future be recognized as the Founder of House Doyle.

Vandham departed the City, for parts unknown; not a few chose to follow him.

In the decades that followed, rumors ran wild of a roving band of warriors, stopping battles between soldiers of Keves and Agnus before they could even begin.

And then...

xxxx

/Brasa Geothermal Belt, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/

Nia looked up with surprise at the sounds of footsteps echoing through the cave. Damn it, have I been found again?! Impulsively summoning her swords, she hid behind a stalagmite...only to blink at the sensation of familiar ether. That feeling...it couldn't be. Sure enough, a small squad of five entered the fluorescent cavern; at their head was an aged man with wrinkled, sunkissed skin that nonetheless rippled with lean muscle. "...Vandham?"

"Ha!" exclaimed the old man. "You haven't aged a day, 'Mama Nia'!"

"H-How did you find me?!"

"Got a tip from a Nopon merchant on a nearby island. Said something about seeing a 'delightful maiden' taking a dip in the natural spas."

"..."

He pulled a collapsed telescope out of his pocket, showing a cracked lens. "I gave the horndog a nice smack as payment for his 'finder's fee'."

"That's a good lad." As the rest of Vandham's squad went to secure the cavern, she asked, "...it's been a long time."

"Aye, it has. A lot has happened. The City's getting back on its feet."

At this, Nia felt a small spring of hope well up within her. "Really? And...you're not there?"

"Eh, that lot will do fine without me. The way I figured it...it wouldn't be right, to leave Your Grace by your lonesome."

"...you rascal." Even after all this time, someone named Vandham was turning things around for her...in more ways than one. "...ah, but you were a handsome lad. I'm sure you must have snared a heart or two along the way?"

"Well..." Whistling, he yelled, "Oi, kids! I want you to come meet Mama Nia!"

To Nia's surprise, the four other soldiers all turned, gathering towards them. One of the girls immediately began haranguing him for treating Her Highness 'so casually', while the only boy criticized his dad for being so 'ungentlemanly'. The other two girls simply asked for stories of their dad as a kid, because he had to have something embarrassing in his past, right?!

Nia couldn't help but smile, feeling lighter than she had in decades.

xxxx

The caverns that would become known as the Malevolent Hollow in future centuries had not yet become a hotbed of monsters; now, it was simply a strange landmark bearing a large concentration of black fog, yet paradoxically free of Annihilation Events; it was due to 'the metaphysical makeup of the cavern hindering opposing elements', or something to that effect...at least, according to the Nopon scientist that had tagged along with Vandham's company.

Nia had simply been using it as a good hideout because it hindered enemy scans from finding her.

In like manner, Vandham decided to set up shop within those caverns and the winding ravines of the Brasa Geothermal Belt; the giant fungi were easy enough to hide underneath whilst outside, and food was never in short supply. Vandham took it upon himself to be the Queen's guard; his family followed suit, along with those that had accompanied him. Stories went back and forth, as the plucky wanderers took it upon themselves to try and ease Nia's loneliness.

(How little did they know that being in the presence of Mio's progeny — and therefore Nia's by proxy — did more to soothe her loneliness than they could have possibly fathomed.)

The diminutive Nopon served as their link to the outside world, bringing valuable goods and information in return for local concoctions and plants that could only be found within the cavern and the natural hot springs. Any Agnian or Kevesi scouts who managed to intrude upon their territory were quickly ambushed, knocked out, intoxicated with a light dose of hallucinogenic mushrooms, and dumped off at a nearby island under cover of night. Thus did Vandham's company keep their presence a secret...for about two years anyway.

Then they were found by Moebius.

So to speak.

xxxx

The presence of the man known as Consul T had initially sent everyone into a panic; the Queen, hiding deeper within the caverns, could not be shown, no matter what!

Vandham exchanged words with the man...and then, without warning, he slugged the Moebius in the face.

Rather than vaporize their proverbial patriarch, the Consul struck back.

After several minutes of a rather messy brawl, the Moebius was laughing. "Aw, ye got yerself a pretty mean punch there, lad! I wasn't expectin' a good ol' bout of fisticuffs in this dump! What say you, up for another go?"

"...nah," grunted Vandham. "Bit of an old-timer, I'm afraid. Don't got many years ahead of me, I think...but my eldest? He'd be glad to fight you."

"I would?!" exclaimed a tall, middle-aged man near the edge of the impromptu arena.

T looked at Vandham's son with discerning hum. "...he's got muscle, but does he got the proper moxie? Guess I'll find out next time I come 'round!"

"On one condition, though," demanded Vandham. "You can't tell anyone we're here. If you do, we'll have to move. Then you'll have to find us all over again."

"...agh, good point. Would be a right shame if ye scallywags slipped away from such a prime place for fightin'! Big caverns, natural lighting, secure from outside observance...that'd be horrible!" With a hearty shake, T added, "Ye can call me Triton!"

Then the burly Moebius strolled outside, came back in minutes later with a giant fish over his shoulder, and demanded a feast be held to celebrate the occasion...which Vandham and company did, because what were they going to say otherwise?

(Nia's reaction after the fact, surprisingly, was rather nonplussed. "Honestly, the rumors I've heard about that particular Moebius? If anyone could've stumbled upon our home...there's certainly worse.")
xxxx



And so, time passed.

Generations, in fact.

Triton's trips were sporadic, yet punctuated by fistfights and feasting. Their duty to protect the Queen — to keep her safe, to keep her company, to keep her sane — allowed them to pass the decades with a sense of purpose, even as the war between Keves and Agnus raged on afar.

Some of Vandham's lineage came and went; all were sworn to secrecy, which they kept with admirable aplomb. If nothing else, it seemed that Vandham's family carried a sort of charisma that drew others to them; they wouldn't have been able to explain it if they were asked.

Yet...all good things come to an end, even amidst the Endless Now.

xxxx

Nia listened quietly as Basque Vandham explained their circumstances. "Triton seems to be slipping as the years have gone by," muttered the husky man, nursing a black eye. "He apparently blabbed to one of his 'colleagues' that he knew of a place that nullified Annihilation Events."

"Has he told them about this cave?"

"Going by what he said after our Duel of Destiny," he remarked, referring to the title that the Vandham Family had come to label Triton's semi-regular visits, "no. But I don't trust in his ability to keep his mouth shut for long. Moebius will doubtless want to know about such a unique place."

(How little did he know: it would be through X's research of the Malevolent Hollow, that Z would gain the power to nullify Interlinks with much greater ease and control than before...but that's a story for another time.)

"...I see." The past centuries had gone by in a proverbial blink: mingling as she did with her extended family, even if they had no clue as to how she was their common ancestor through Noah and Mio's son. (She could have told them...but after so long, it was so easy to just be quiet, to keep secrets in her heart. There was no one who remembered Alrest, no one who remembered the Time Before; why burden those with knowledge they could do nothing with?) "...then I suppose, it's time for me to move on."

"...we've got enough fighters to storm Agnus Castle," muttered Basque. "We could put you back on the throne all proper like, and reinstate you. The City's bound to have regained at least some of its former glory; we could make a formal alliance, and present a united front against Moebius..."

"...that would be committing all of our pieces to a risky gambit." (She couldn't. She couldn't. Not YET.) "...I believe there will be a time in the future, where the world will be ripe for a change. But until that happens...I must remain in hiding. There's one last place I know of that hasn't been discovered..." The Cloudkeep: from there, she would be able to resonate with enough remnants of Origin to create more Ouroboros Stones...and hopefully hide enough of them for the City to keep even with Moebius for the foreseeable future. "It'll be there, where I will go into a period of deep sleep: watching the world all the while, until the right moment arrives."

Basque solemnly nodded. "And what would you have us do, Your Majesty?"

"Eh?"

"Our great ancestor swore his lineage to your protection. If you no longer have need of us...then tell us where we must go, and we will go."

"...I see." No pressure. "If that's the case...I would have your family return to the City. The blood of Ouroboros will doubtless mark you as a target, elsewhere...and I'm sure the people will rejoice at the return of House Vandham."

Basque chuckled anxiously. "You do my family too much credit, Your Highness-"

"The name of Vandham means more to me than you'll ever know, Basque," she sternly interrupted, taking a tone with him that she had not used since he was in diapers. "Those who bear that name...are always marked for greatness, in my eyes...so long as they have the strength to seize their destiny with their own hands."

"...then if that is what the Queen commands, we will obey." Looking about the rusty cavern walls and colorful molds with fondness, the burly patriarch remarked, "I'm gonna miss this dump...mind one last hug for the road?"

Nia arched an eyebrow. "Won't that ruin your 'manly man' image?"

"You've practically hugged every single person who's lived here when we were little. Bit late to worry about propriety for that sorta thing."

Nia couldn't help but giggle. "Well...I'm certainly not complaining." Thus did Nia and Basque embrace: the last she would feel the touch of one of her descendants for a very long time to come.

"Take care of yourself, Mama," whispered Basque.

Nia bit her lip to keep from mewling. That's not fair, ya bastard. But then again, all of Vandham's children, their children's children, and so forth had called her 'Mama Nia' as kids: it was just the way things had been for them. And now...that was all changing. "You as well, ya daft idiot...you take care of yourself and all those knuckleheads."

"Will do." Rising to his feet, Basque turned to leave the cavern, to get the rest of his House up and moving-

"Vandham!"

Turning on his heel, the man stared with stern eyes, ready and willing to die for her.

"...remember to fight your war," she commanded.

Basque solemnly nodded before, with a knowing grin, he said, "Then I'll make sure it's a war worth fighting."

Thus did Basque Vandham walk away, never to see Nia again.

The Queen of Agnus steeled herself, slipping out through a side tunnel; the night was still young when she plunged into the waters of Erythia Sea, swimming with all her might.

(It also had the benefit of hiding her tears; she couldn't be seen crying if she was drenched.)

xxxx

Basque Vandham returned to the City, alongside his whole household; it would not take them long to become inserted into the City's political power structure.

As for Nia? She had one last encounter with Consul M...because despite how long she had lived as Moebius, she was still Mio. Therefore, Nia would trust her to do the right thing.

("We've met before, when you were still human." Oh, if only M knew. If only she knew. Despite the Moebius's shock at her presence, Nia was undeterred. "I will go to sleep, for a good long time indeed. That should keep me out of Z's claws...take this." Handing M the crystalline key to the Cloudkeep, she continued "Whenever it is I wake up again, the world...will be ripe for a change. Until that time, keep it safe. You should give it to those who deserve it." When M, quite reasonably, asked how she would know...Nia spoke from the heart. "They'll come before you. Of that, I have no doubt.")

Really, there was no one but M that she could trust the key to: an eternal Moebius, gripped by suicidal despair, desperate for a way out...what could Nia do, but give her own lineage a way to make it to a better tomorrow?

How ironic, that thoughts of Vandham filled both of their heads, in two entirely different yet equally meaningful ways.

And so, as Nia slept...M waited, until the time was right.

xxxx

/Time: During Chapter 1, shortly after Guernica Vandham's passing/

/The Eagus Wilderness, Fornis Region/



Ghondor Vandham had been in a right proper mood since Shania had sent word about what had happened to Guernica's transport vessel. Stupid bloody old man; bet he died trying to play the hero or some crap. Now instead of rendezvousing with their group in the wilderness, Shania would be staying behind to keep an eye on the the new Ouroboros; they would have to return to the City, to inform the Bitchqueen and her lackeys about what had happened. Stupid bloody Stone; good-for-nothing hunk of junk; so many lives lost, and for what?!

(Anger was good. Anger would keep her from thinking about how her grandpa had died.)

Whilst stewing in bitter thoughts, and watching her comrade's camp from atop a long rocky outcropping...the sound of warping space caught her attention. Turning around, she watched in stunned silence as Agnus's Silver Consul approached. What the bloody hell?! Only her distraught emotions from the news of Guernica's passing prevented her from attacking on impulse.

A good thing too, for the masked woman calmly said, "House Vandham has a longstanding vow to the Queen of Agnus, do they not? The real Queen."

"...what are you on about," she demanded.

"Those new Ouroboros candidates," continued the Consul, as though Ghondor had said nothing. "They are...this world's only hope."

Now she was getting genuinely confused. "You're not making any sense. Why shouldn't I call my boys to bring a Levnis up here to turn ya into a pile of blood and guts?"

"Beyond the fact that it won't accomplish anything against me?" M dryly said (which was annoyingly true, Ghondor had to admit), before doing something the pint-sized brawler would have never expected: she knelt down on her knees and bowed. "It's because the true Queen entrusted something of great importance to me...and I can't give it to Ouroboros myself. It must come from someone else."

...am I having a fever dream? (Had Guernica's death caused her to go temporarily insane?) "You'd best be off asking the Bitchq-er, Monica. She's the Elder of the City. She'd be able to get things done the way you want."

"She is also under many eyes in light of her station. You are not."

A fair enough point, but that still didn't satisfy her. "...but why me, of all people?"

Rising back up, Consul M answered with disarming honesty. "You're a Vandham. That is enough."

"...huh." She didn't know whether to feel complimented or irritated by that. "...well, you've caught my attention, at least."

xxxx

It was all terrifyingly simple, in M's opinion. When D and J had broadcast Moebius's sigil into the sky, it was a sign that Ouroboros had risen once more.

When she realized that another version of Noah and Mio were among the chosen six, an intrinsic part of her knew that the time had come for Queen Nia to awaken...but only once Ouroboros had proven themselves.

Too many eyes would be upon her; it was not her place, to be their guide.

But she knew, in light of who Ghondor Vandham was...in light of what the Vandhams were, period...that their paths would cross.

After all...Ghondor, however distant, was of hers and Noah's blood. Through the line of Vandham — that great and glorious name — the passage of fate had been steered from disaster so many times.

("Though we came from different world, we were able to leave a life behind." As N said these words amidst the climax of Moebius's very existence, the fruit of that life — Monica and Ghondor — were there amongst them all, at Aionios's proverbial curtain call. With melancholy warmth, M added, "It was a hope for the future. Our hearts and our dreams intertwined, and we were given the chance to weave new life. And therefore...it's all good.")

M — Mio — would trust in that name once more, and in the lineage that had arisen from the life she and Noah had brought forth into the world.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 6, after Cammuravi's Hero Quest, but before reaching the Cloudkeep/

/Camp Spot, The City, Underneath Cadensia Region/



Time, mused Noah, still seemed so short.

Even with the reality of Mio's life being extended — thanks to the gracious gift that M had given her — the nature of their mission seemed to always conflict with everyone's sense of responsibility. Case in point: after detouring from their journey to the Cloudkeep to ensure that Miyabi, Cammuravi, Mwamba, Hackt, and all the others resurrected by Moebius Y got promptly settled in the City (which dovetailed into the whole thing with Ethel reawakening, and that was an entirely different bunch of Bunnits to deal with), their Irises had been flooded with messages regarding affairs at the Colonies they had liberated...not to mention all of the idle rumors and information they had heard going through the City.

Hence why they were at the open campsite outside the Lost Numbers' dormitory, idly sipping from Manana's Battle Soup, mulling over what to do next. "...I don't regret helping so many people," Noah said, out of the blue.

"But it feels like their needs are never-ending, eh?" correctly guessed Lanz, elbows resting on the table. "I hear you."

"...is that wrong for us to admit?" wondered Sena, resting her head on the table. "I mean, I want to help them, but I also wanna help Mimi..."

Mio, thus far, had been silent.

"Mio-love, don't pull a Gray on us," remarked Eunie. (Elsewhere, a gruff sixty-year-old's nose twitched.) "You gotta speak your mind."

"...right. Sorry." Sighing, Mio downed the rest of her soup before saying, "Our time constraint...it isn't as bad as it once was. But we can't tarry, either; even if I'm not subject to the ten term limit...the same can't be said for you, or for our friends and allies in the Colonies."

"Plus, we can't just assume that Moebius will simply sit back and let us do as we please," muttered Taion, a strange yet complicated frown on his face. "We need to awaken the true Queens in order to take back the world...yet we need to ensure our allies are at their best before we take the fight to Z."

"Agreed," said Noah, thinking back to the memories he had witnessed of N's futile endeavors against Moebius's enigmatic leader. "We can't afford to step forward with anything less than our best."

Lanz huffed. "But how the spark are we supposed to get to all these places? 'Cause I don't think the City will just let us borrow a Levnis to just take us everywhere."

"Much as I hate to admit it, Lanz has a point," muttered Eunie, drawing an irritate 'oh come ON, really?!' glare from Lanz. "And a Levnis can't exactly move lickety-split; Aionios is so snuffin' big, it'd take days just to get from one end to the other." Glancing at Mio, she remarked, "Do you have any fancy Moebius tricks you can pull off? Like the whole blorp thing they do?"

("What kind of sound effect is 'blorp'?" wondered Riku under his breath.)

Mio shook her head, looking somewhat ashamed at how her Moebius body's inherent abilities seemed beyond her reach. "I'm afraid not..."

It took us two months just to make it to Agnus Castle the first time around. Aionios was a truly immense world, with so much to do and see; how were they supposed to accomplish everything they had to? "Indeed...the travel time is our biggest obstacle..." murmured Noah.

"Aye, it'd be a right pain, wouldn't it? With all the walkin' ye'd have to do, you'd be on peg legs 'fore long."

As one, Ouroboros (plus Riku and Manana) turned towards the newcomer's voice. "...Triton?!" exclaimed Sena.

"When the spark did you get here?!" demanded Lanz.

Triton, sipping from a bowl of Manana's soup, had a confused expression on his face. "A bunch of my crew live in the City, now. Surely it ain't a crime to wander, and see the sights, eh?"

"...not technically," admitted Taion, gazing warily at the trio of Lost Numbers keeping a watchful eye on them from sniping positions. "But you are a Moebius, in a place where everyone has been opposed to Moebius for countless years. Even if the City's government knows you're an ally, a little bit of circumspection on your part wouldn't be unwarranted."

Triton chuckled, downing the rest of his soup, much to Manana's joy. "Ah laddie, you're a bit too serious for yer own good. Anyhow, there's somewhere I be wantin' to go to."

Taion seemed somewhat bewildered and irritated by the sudden segue. "...I am not 'laddie', and I'm under no obligation whatsoever to listen to you."

"Actually, there's a bunch o' places I need to pay a visit to," he said, as though he hadn't heard a thing Taion said; but, before Taion could retort, Triton added, "But it sounds like you lot do as well!"

"...wait, are you suggesting...?" said Eunie, eyes widening with surprise.

"Ah, but I ain't doin' it for free!" retorted Triton, placing his hands on his hips. "...just plum forgot what was on my mind, but it had something to do with that soup I just had...ah, I'm sure poundin' my fist into a strong monster or two will get the ol' noggin going!" His cheeks wrinkled even more from the strength of his grin. "How about it? Ye kids get to do what ye have to do, and maybe I'll remember what it was I had to do...another grand adventure, it'll be!"

Riku narrowed his eyes. "Triton not forget how to teleport?"

In the blink of an eye, Triton was looming over Riku from behind. "Ha!" he exclaimed, enjoying the Nopon's startled expression. "I may have forgotten how to transform, but that's 'cause it ain't sportin' in a fight. This though? As easy as breathing...though, to be fair, the journey's part of the fun! S'why I like taking a Ferronis everywhere."

"Yeah, that wouldn't really help us," grumbled Lanz.

"Still...it would solve a lot of our issues. The problem is the Cloudkeep." They had to get there, eventually. Looking over at his partner, Noah asked, "Mio? What do you think?"

The short-haired woman closed her eyes, pondering deeply; unlike before, she was the picture of serenity in contemplation. (The wonders of having more time, when your death wasn't staring you in the face.) Finally, she remarked, "So long as I possess the key...the Cloudkeep will remain hidden. Her Majesty will still be safe, until we go to awaken her." Opening her eyes, Mio spoke firmly. "If we're going to help our allies...now is the best time."

"...then that settles it, it seems." Raising his eyes toward the forgetful Moebius, Noah asked, "You're sure about this?"

The elderly brawler huffed. "Wouldn't be offerin' if I didn't mean it, laddie." Without warning, he suddenly put an arm around Lanz, getting him into a headlock. "Besides! I've seen your kids sporting me colors; it's flatterin' and all, but ye gotta fight some real tough customers to become a powerhouse like me!"

Lanz struggled futilely to release himself. "Don't remind us, you clod, now let me go-!"

"...what an odd world this is," muttered Taion looking over at Eunie. "For a Consul to be our personal mode of transport."

"Eh...seems kind of nifty, though, doesn't it?" she replied.

Sena pumped her fists with excitement. "I've always wondered what it was like to do a Consul's teleporting thing!"

"I suppose the question is...where to first?" wondered Noah. "There are some requests from Colony 9 and Iota..."

"...Isurd also sent a request," admitted Taion.

"Shouldn't we also check in with Juniper's Colony?" asked Eunie. "I know we helped them a bit before making our way to Keves Castle, but they were still on pretty shaky feet..."

"Oh, and I think Colony Gamma has more teaching requests for us!" exclaimed Sena.

"...I feel like we know way too many people," grumbled Lanz. "...eh, guess it comes with the job."

Mio smiled softly. "Yes. It does indeed."

The work of Ouroboros was never done.

xxxx

Moments after they teleported to their first destination, Eunie looked with wide eyes towards Triton. "...that felt creepy."

"And now ye know why I so enjoy the view from a Ferronis!" he guffawed.

xxxx

The next few weeks were intensely busy for Ouroboros.

Amongst the many missions and tasks they undertook to help their allies — as well as their fights against numerous unique monsters — were some events of particular note:

-Thanks to Isurd's request, they discovered the threat to Nimue's former Colony; through quick action, they were able to defeat Consul V, and thus keep its existence hidden. That Taion had managed to reconnect with a reborn Nimue was no small bonus.

-Through a request from Bolearis, they discovered the fate of Colony 5, and the true meaning behind the Colony Ranks from none other than Moebius X; although the little witch lived to fight another day, Consul L was vanquished.

-Through a surprisingly involved agricultural endeavor, a strong friendship was forged between Colonies 9 and Tau. Ouroboros had also checked in with Garvel, Hoope, and Layla, who had been transferred from Colony 4 to Colony 9.

-Alexandria's distance from her subordinates as a result of her past was fully resolved, thanks to the tech summit at Colony 30, and the subsequent defeat of Consul Q. All in all, it made for a rather great present for her birthday.

-Speaking of Colony 30, work on Dorrick continued, even as Valdi tried to handle the sudden reality of his Lieutenant collapsing from overwork.

-Yet another Consul, U, was defeated, thus freeing Juniper and Tau from her machinations for good.

-After helping with more teaching requests at Gamma, Commander Teach had them partake in a war game on Everblight Plain...only for his past as a man named Oleg to become unveiled, courtesy of a Kevesi soldier out for revenge.

-And last but not least...Triton remembered his old friend, and his legendary miso.

All in all...they got a lot done.

xxxx

/Colony Omega, Captocorn Peak, Upper Aetia Region/

"...so. We're finally on our way to the Cloudkeep," murmured Mio, ears twitching with eagerness; after having been deposited by Triton on the outskirts of Colony Omega's empty Ferronis, they were finally back on track to their main objective.

"Yes," said Noah, his boots crunching in the snow as they neared Gava Junction. We helped so many people, he thought, feeling a measure of pride in what they'd accomplished; however, he had sensed Mio's growing impatience over the past few days. "To be fair, we did keep company with Triton for a surprisingly long time."

"Too much for one lifetime," groused Eunie, rubbing her knuckles where she had slugged the Moebius real well.

Taion, who had mellowed out considerably ever since their brief journey to Nimue's Colony, remarked, "I'm only glad Triton maintained enough semblance of sanity to remain distant whenever we fought with his fellow Moebius."

"Yeah," agreed Lanz. "Even if he's downright barmy, no point in putting him into a spot where he has to choose between Moebius or us."

Mio gravely nodded. "The fact he's helped us as much as he has is enough of a miracle as is. Let's count our blessings."

"Yeah, what Mimi said!" exclaimed Sena, her side ponytail bobbing. "Anyhow, let's...wait." Narrowing her eyes, Sena gazed to the left pathway of Gava Junction, which led down to an open tunnel. Right by its opening were familiar clouds of red motes. "...there are dead soldiers, there," she murmured with a sad frown; a patrol of hostile Agnian soldiers were approaching as well, just out of sight.

The off-seers impulsively shared a look. "...one more detour won't hurt," Mio said, impulsively reaching for where her flute was stored.

Noah smiled warmly at her. "Then let's go. Let's wait for those soldiers to pass before we head on."

(Of course, it wouldn't be that simple.)

Naturally, it would be right after they sent off the deceased Kevesi squad that a trio of bipedal Levnises dropped their invisibility cloaks, ambushing them without warning.

"What's this now?!" exclaimed Noah, even as the back of his mind sputtered at the fact they were being delayed once more.

Lanz snarled. "Seriously? More of those mudders, come to ruin our day again?!"

There was no more time to complain, as the trio of mysterious raiders leapt into battle.

xxxx

You know what happens next.

Naturally, when it came to getting their strange assailant to Dr. Hollis...they knew who to call.

xxxx

Triton laughed as he stepped foot into the cave, looking at the unconscious little girl — held gently in Sena's arms — that had been pulled out of the unusual Levnis. "Boy, not fifteen minutes after we part ways, and ye already got yerselves in a pickle!"

"Just teleport us to the City, already!" sniped Eunie.

xxxx

Needless to say, their journey to the Cloudkeep was delayed for just a bit longer, as everything related to the then-unnamed Segiri and Colony 0 came to light...and there were additional concerns by people in the City, what with the Lost Numbers' new assignments at Agnus Castle, and Colony 15's difficulties with acclimating to their way of life, so why not help out there as well...

The Queen of Agnus would surely understand if they took a bit longer, right?

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/The City, Within Swordmarch, Cadensia Region/



Gray frowned at the woman standing before him. "Move."

Rozana, standing in front of the doorway that led to the elevator, simply crossed her arms.

It was never a good sign when she didn't let her silver tongue fly. Still, he spoke once more. "I said move."

Dryly, she remarked, "For all you've told me not to throw my back out, you sure seem intent on throwing out yours."

Her body was blocking the control panel, so there was no moving around her; he'd have to physically remove her to get to it. (Physically, it would have been simple...but his youthful wife was like an immovable mountain in many ways, as he'd learned through hard experience.) Instead, he growled, letting the audible rumble in his chest echo his displeasure.

Rozana was unfazed. "...you didn't even bother waiting to find out why the rescue operation was cancelled, did you? Why Ghondor's call for volunteers was rescinded."

"I know why Monica would forbid Ghondor from going." Attacking Agnus Castle during the Eclipse would have been suicide, for one; the enemy would have been expecting them. (Yet when had he ever cared about what his enemies were thinking?) "But she hasn't spoken to me."

Sighing, Rozana muttered something unflattering underneath her breath. "You know very well that Monica would forbid you from going, too."

"..."

"Listen...Monica is keeping it quiet, but apparently they might have someone on the inside. Top secret. No one can know. Not even me." She apparently saw the question on his face, because she added, "I asked because I needed something to stop you from doing anything reckless."

Such a damnably sharp woman, she was. Little wonder that she had managed to snare an old, wary bloodhound like him. "Hmm..."

"...I know that if there was no plan, I wouldn't be able to stop you," she relented, recognizing the thin threads keeping him on a leash. "But there is a plan. So trust in it."

"...those kids don't deserve to die," he quietly said, saying with just one short sentence exactly how he felt about Ouroboros's current circumstances.

Rozana nodded. "Neither did Guernica. And you don't either."

(What a low blow. A deserved one, but still a low blow.) "...perhaps there are some things worth being reckless over," he admitted in a rare show of weakness. (Had this been what Guernica felt, when he realized the six brats had been on the verge of killing each other? Had old Vandham seen that spark at a glance, knowing even back then that those kids would burn through the cold hearts of many, himself included?)

Rozana shook her head with fond exasperation. "I'm sure there's something we can find to occupy your attention. You'll probably frighten half the Cityfolk otherwise."

That sounded like a good idea. "No need. My normal work is enough to keep me busy."

After a few moments of observant silence, his wife finally said, "...then at least have dinner first. You've probably forgotten all about your usual routes in your rush to leave." She quietly walked past him, brushing at his elbow with a slight touch: a simple gesture that made not a sound, yet said so much in-between the proverbial gaps.

Gray recognized the message for what it was: an opportunity for him to unwind, to release the tension that had turned his entire body into an instrument ready and willing to deal death at an instant. (Which was normal, were it not for the fact he felt unusually agitated.) Hopefully, by the time they finished eating, he would regain some semblance of self-preservation...because even with the conservatives' hardliners dealt with prior to Ouroboros's infiltration of Li Garte Prison, there was still much work to do. You kids better make it back, he mentally swore.

(He wasn't quite sure what he would do if they became just another name on a memorial: sharing Guernica's fate.)

(And that unsettles you like nothing else, doesn't it?)

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 7, during the hunt for the Origin Shards with Queen Nia/

xxxx

As Ouroboros hunted for the Origin Shards needed to upgrade Samon's vessel, Nia had accompanied them.

However, other friends came and went during that timeframe.

One of them was Isurd. An idle conversation during a prior stop at Colony Lambda — wherein Isurd's stress had been emphasized, and the topic of 'natural spas' came up — came roaring back unexpectedly when Isurd arrived in the City as part of some other matter. (Probably something to do with auto-Lev improvements, given the City's own unique bipedal sentries.) Ouroboros had been present in the aftermath of Shania's short-lived revenge, and their interests had briefly aligned. After all, they were going to be scouring Erythia Sea before returning Nia to Agnus Castle...so why not take care of Isurd's little 'spa hunt' in the meantime?

(No one noticed Nia's subtle twinges when the information from 'Trivia King' Kotan had pointed them towards the Brasa Geothermal Belt.)

Even if it did feel surreal...

xxxx

/Dock No. 3, Great Sword's Base, Cadensia Region/

"This is an unusual event for me," admitted Isurd, as they prepared to board the Boundary. "To be travelling alongside the Queen of our entire nation..."

Nia, putting on a smile so perfect that it couldn't possibly be strained (wink), courteously replied, "You need not worry on my account, Commander Isurd. I am not so feeble so as to be offended by one's faults or personality; after all, no one is perfect. So just be yourself."

"O-Of course, Your Majesty," he managed to say without stuttering. Mostly.

(Off to the side, Eunie whispered to Taion, "Now that we know what she's really like, Nia's whole 'Queen shtick' is...really snuffin' obvious.")

("Indeed," he dryly muttered.)

xxxx

...well, no harm was done.

However, upon entering the Brasa Geothermal Belt, and making it to the cavern that Kotan had spoken of...Nia had gone rather quiet.

So much so, that when the party had been about to veer off to a tunnel leading upward, Nia had elected to go deeper.

Despite Mio's protests, the Queen had been firm: she would be fine. She just needed to...see something. Nothing more and nothing less.

She would be fine.

xxxx

/Malevolent Hollow, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/

It was a wretched feeling, being back in this place; the sight of so many monsters evoked a feeling akin to sacrilege.

How much time had she spent here, hiding from Moebius's eyes? How many generations of Vandham's lineage — her lineage, however distant, through Mio's son from a time long past — had she watched over, in this place?

After hundreds of years, it was if they had never been; the unique flora and fungi had grown over all remnants of the people who had made these colorful caverns their ancestral home. Much of it had likely been torn down and destroyed by the Ignas, Tirkins, Merignas, and Gulkins that had set up shop here, for who knows how long. In the back of her mind, she could envision old reports that had been transmitted to her by Poppi: reports of Agnian soldiers declaring this place to be forbidden, as the resources required to subdue it would have been too great. I wonder...if Moebius invited these creatures in, so that all memory of the Vandhams would be stomped out? It'd be just like those blighters.

With her cat-like reflexes (ergh), she managed to sneak by the various nasties...until she arrived in a place that been the main living area for the Vandhams. (She had lived here.)

Now? Two groups of monsters fought each other for sport, watched by an enormous Igna and Tirkin: their leaders, no doubt. To add to the horrible spectacle, a large pit bore the corpses of Agnian and Kevesi soldiers alike, leaking red motes...which meant they were relatively fresh. "You butchers..."

"Kraw, introoder!" yelled one of the nearby Gulkin sentries.

Ah crap, Nia thought, immediately leaning on her back foot. Gotta take control of the situation...

xxxx

Being surrounded by enemies was not a sensation unfamiliar to Nia; she had experienced it quite often, even in her old world.

But there were many ways to respond to such a situation.

In the end...it might not have been surprising, what Nia resorted to.

After all, if there had been one thing Ozychlyrus Brounev Tantal had been good at, it had been disarming numerically superior adversaries with nothing but flamboyant chutzpah and a boisterous personality.

xxxx



"HA HA HA HA!" laughed Nia, momentarily stalling the monsters' charge. "You lot really do think you've got the advantage, eh?"

The sentries tilted their head with confusion.

"But I'm not surprised; nothing but a buncha pipsqueaks hiding in your silly little cave. Why don'tcha take a walk outside, get some sunlight, ya bums!"

The Ignas' leader, Conqueror Deepwan, glanced curiously at his fellow leader. "Who dis?"

"Not seen Kat Lady before," quacked the Tirkins' monarch, King Krawkin.

"Bah!" exclaimed Nia, nearly pratfalling from pretended shock. "I'd call you a pair of one-eyed monsters if you could tell yer arse from your elbows!" Stepping forward — inwardly wailing 'Nia you're being so STUPID' whilst simultaneously telling herself to shut up and roll with it — she confidently proclaimed, "Behold the notorious...Nia! Of! Echell! Driver of the Dreaded Dromarch! Wife of the Aegis's Driver!" With each syllable, she stepped forward with such volume that it actually caused the nearest monsters to step back with bewilderment. "Mostly known as 'Nyah', but ever more rarely addressed as...THE NIANATOR!"

The monsters all blinked.

Rumbling forward with her ad-libbed performance, Nia summoned her Blade. "And this is my sword, the calamitous Catalyst Scimitar!" With a flourish, she twirled her watery Blade, even as apparitions of the two Aegis Swords hovered behind her. "If ya want a piece of me, then I'd be happy to take you bozos on one at a time! Unless..." With a forcefully cheeky grin, she added, "...you're a scared lil' Bunnit."

The monsters blinked again.

Then, as if to crash her impromptu parody, a man's voice echoed out. "Ho ho! I'd have picked a less intimidating animal, lass; I've seen some Bunnits that could tear a Gogol's arm off!"

Nia impulsively looked to her right; standing there, idly chewing from a bag of crisps of some sort, was Triton. "...you? What the hell are YOU doing here?!" she sputtered, all Zeke-inspired bravado fading away.

"You were givin' off such a good show, I just had to watch!" exclaimed Consul T, eating the brown slices with an audible crunch. "Ye ever had choclit-covered spud crisps? Fantastic little snack from the City! My men can't get enough of 'em!"

"...how long have you been here?!" she squawked, feeling suddenly mortified.

Triton nonchalantly admitted, "About as long as the fella behind you has."

Whirling around, Nia's eyes widened at the sight of an unexpected figure. "...Gray?!"

The lone wolf, clad in black with face hidden, simply stared at her with his one visible eye. "Hmm..."

For all that she had heard about the reclusive warrior (mostly from Eunie during their travels, and usually in the form of complaints), the fact that he could apparently move as quietly as a ninja had been completely glossed over. "Y...You...how much did you see...?"

Gray simply crossed his arms. "Was tracking Ouroboros to make sure they didn't get into trouble. Never thought I'd have to tail the Queen of Agnus instead."

"...how much did you see?" she insisted.

Gray's chest rumbled...and without saying a word, he looked away.

Yup. Just gonna crawl into a hole and die, mentally wailed Nia.

"...bored now," growled Deepwan. "KILL'EM!"

"SQUAW!" cried Krawkin. "DESTROY THE HOOMANS!"

The monsters all roared as one, and began their charge.

"Aw, bloody hell," griped Nia, gripping her Blade with irritation. "Guess it's gonna have to be the hard way after all!"

"Ye mean the fun way!" cheered Triton, his fists covered by glowing purple hooks.

Gray simply summoned his handguns and drones, opening fire from afar.

xxxx

What followed in the Demihuman Gutter was a massive and incredibly heroic battle; with Nia, Triton, and Gray acting as an unlikely trio against King Krawkin, Conqueror Deepwan, and their many minions.

xxxx

/Fifteen Minutes Later/

Gasping for air, Nia lowered her sword; behind her, Conqueror Deepwan collapsed, head separated from his body. "And...stay down..."

Triton, sitting atop the pulverized corpse of King Krawkin, was grinning with glee. "Now that was a punch-up for the ages! Never knew the Queen could throw down like that; makes me wonder why Moebius bothered replacin' ye with a damned robot!"

...which reminds me. Looking warily at Triton, Nia wondered just how deep the Moebius's attachment to Ouroboros went. "You can't tell anyone about fighting with me, okay?"

Triton snorted. "Don't know why; it was a fantastic fight! 'Sides, I'm fairly certain I got no orders involving ye...so as far as Moebius is concerned, it's just another day of me battlin' monsters!"

I'm pretty sure you DO have orders involving me, inwardly groused Nia. She didn't know if the aged warrior was covering for her...or if he had genuinely forgotten. Either one was likely. Turning towards the reclusive Gray, she said, "Um...pretty sure you have to report your activities...but can you not mention anything about...what I said at the beginning...?"

Gray's expression was as still as stone; even so, his gravelly voice echoed in the cavern. "I haven't made a habit of mentioning tactically irrelevant information in my reports." And that was that.

"...you know what, I'll take it," admitted Nia with tired gratitude. Well...at least we cleared out the beasts, she thought, looking at the bloodied cave, yet seeing only memories in their stead.

Triton's voice broke through her reverie. "Ah, bilge water; I must've dropped my snack! Guess I gotta get more." Without another word, Triton vanished in a cloud of purple motes.

Nia blinked at his sudden departure. "I can never be sure about that bloke...what's your read on him, Gray?" No response. "Gray?" Looking around, Nia frowned at the realization that the lone wolf had already vacated the premises. Oh come on, SERIOUSLY?! How does such an old fart like that move so quietly?! Nia sat down on the slope leading up to Krawkin and Deepwan's empty thrones, chin resting on her hands. Bah...damn it Shellhead; still causing me trouble even without trying.

(By the Architect, how she missed him and his silliness.)



She didn't have much longer to gripe; moments later, the cries of familiar voices echoed out. "Your Majesty?!"

"Noah?" she replied with a blink.

Sure enough, the six Ouroboros and Isurd charged up, weapons at the ready. However, the sight of the carnage prompted them all to stop with shock. "And we fought through so many mudders on the way here," wondered Lanz with audible disbelief.

"Did...did you defeat all these monsters by yourself?" wondered Taion aloud.

"...yes," shamelessly admitted Nia. "Yes I did," she said, rising to her feet. Placing her hands on her hips, she haughtily remarked, "Nothing that your Queen couldn't handle for herself!" They can NEVER know.

"Wow..." gasped Sena with awe.

"That's our Queen for you," said Isurd with no small amount of pride.

Alas, it wasn't long before Noah and Mio's attentions turned towards the dead soldiers in the pit. The haunting call of the off-seers' flutes bounded throughout the cavern, as bloody red light gave way to a soothing blue.

xxxx

In a way, the duo had done more than send off the slaughtered men and women; they had also purged the cavern of its wretched aura, stained by the monsters' presence and the battles that had occurred there.

Nia would be able to put this bit of her past behind her, at least for now.

(Maybe the Vandhams, wherever they were, were looking down on her with pride? She liked to think so.)

(...come to think of it, Zeke probably would too, that blasted Shellhead.)

xxxx

As they ascended through the colorful caves, Mio walked alongside Nia. "Um, Nia?"

"Yes?"

"...are you okay?"

"...I'm feeling better."

"...do you want to talk about it?"

"...maybe later," she admitted. "Which reminds me, did you lot enjoy the spa?"

"Oh. Yes! It was actually quite lovely."

"...mind if we stop by before heading back to the boat? I've got some aches I'd like to clear out..."

"O-Of course! After all the fighting you did, I'm sure you must be exhausted..."

(Sure. That was the reason why she felt the lingering pain: the aftermath of fighting. Nothing else.)

xxxx

From afar, Gray trailed Ouroboros in silence...and as his eye focused on the two cat-eared figures, he wondered if the Queen had ever spoken to Mio about the family resemblance.

As far he was concerned, it was...uncanny. And the way Nia acted around the kids, Mio in particular? It was rather obvious.

...alas, he wasn't one to butt in on other people's private affairs.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

xxxx

After Ouroboros had freed Colony 11, they had spent a brief bit of time helping Ashera get her affairs in order with the Three Ravens before heading out to take care of the Annihilator; their line of thinking had been that it would have been irresponsible to leave a newly freed Colony on the Castle's doorstep with anything less than its full strength.

Not that it had mattered much; with Consul R's less than cordial departure, Fort O'Virbus had locked its western gate, preventing Colony 11 from accessing the fortress town sitting at the main entryway into Keves Castle. The message sent from the Castle Guard had been less than subtle: any attempts to cross the boundary by foot or by Levnis — either towards the fort or towards the Castle itself — would be shot down with extreme prejudice. Only their sterling service in defense of Keves Castle up to that point prevented them from being massacred outright, or so the message had been.

(Personally, Ashera thought that Sigrún — the current Captain of the Guard — didn't quite have it in her to order the termination of Zoren, Hexen, Branden, and Rattlejack. But that wasn't her story to tell.)

Fortunately, Colony 11 had been left relatively unmolested, supply cutoffs notwithstanding. They still maintained their defensive patrols amidst their new slate of missions related to gathering supplies and forging contacts with the other freed Colonies...because their location was precarious enough as it was.

Alas, with the destruction of the Annihilator, and the subsequent hit-and-run by bizarre Levnises of an unknown type, there was a distinct feeling that the Castle was too preoccupied with other matters to focus on them.

Then came the month leading up to the Eclipse...and the unexpected visit by Consul N.

xxxx

/Colony 11, Keves Castle Region/

The presence of the Lord High Consul was odd enough, Ashera mused; the fact that he was sparring with her entire Colony was what made it even more bizarre. And that was no joke, either; the Golden Consul of Keves was fighting all of Colony 11 at once within the Training Pit.

And he made it look so sparking easy. Whatever Blade he possessed was of a material that forcefully repelled any weapon that crashed against its sheath; it turned his casual parries into staggering blows. Anything he actually drew his sword against — usually a Levnis, occasionally a Blade that got too close — was sliced apart.

Normally, Ashera would have been having a blast against such an imposing opponent; so much so that she was even fighting alongside Clad, Zoren, and Easel without hesitation and without flaw.



And yet...his eyes: behind his mask, they were so cold and detached, as though this battle was a chore. He wasn't even amused at how easily he was thrashing them!

It soured the whole experience. (There was also something about his appearance that seemed familiar...but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Too many things were just a shade or two off for her to grasp the truth of his identity.)

Even so, she sure wasn't going to lie down and take the fall without giving it her all.

"Colony 11's reputation is well-deserved," coolly remarked Consul N, sidestepping Zoren's fists before tapping him in the back with his Blade's pommell; the light touch launched Zoren into Easel, allowing N to slice Clad's weapon in two before knocking him down with a smashing strike to the back of the head. "A shame about the recent unpleasantness between you and Consul R." With her Lieutenants dealt with, N turned towards her. "But that can be corrected, with time."

Ashera, despite her irritation at his demeanor, nonetheless grinned. "Unpleasantness is an interesting way of putting it," she remarked, spinning her Twinsaber rapidly as she approached-

SLASH.

A precise strike to the handle split her Blade in two; her weapon dispelled on impact, leaving her vulnerable to the tip of his sword, aimed right at her throat.

(Oh, this felt so very familiar.)

(You just can't escape your last moments, can you?)

"Is it not the case?" N said, uncaring for the other soldiers as they pulled themselves out of the Training Pit. "Extended contact with those Ouroboros rabble is dangerous; especially since you're no longer under the Flame Clock's protection. That will be attended to, once this matter has been resolved once and for all."

Ashera, despite the sickly sensation of her neck yielding to imaginary steel (it's not real, you foolish maniac; it's just a memory, it's not real, it's NOT REAL), still managed to chuckle. "Is that so? With our current restrictions from the Guard, we wouldn't be able to defend the Castle even if we wanted to."

"A mere bit of sophistry, in the grand scheme of things. But your words do confirm that you haven't heard the news." At her palpable confusion, he continued, "Ouroboros was captured by the forces of Agnus Castle; we've received word that they will all be executed during the upcoming Eclipse."

Ashera knew that panicking was a sign of weakness; keeping calm (mostly) and collected (by and large) was key to remaining in command of a Colony full of rambunctious lunatics like hers. Yet the sheer surge of emotion — They got captured? Eunie, Noah, Lanz, those Agnian kids...they're going to be executed? They're going to die?? — was difficult to keep off of her face.

Finally, there was a hint of amusement in those cold eyes of his: he was enjoying her turmoil. "I will be present to represent Our Majesty the Queen, to confirm the execution of those rebels."

"Y-You'll...be there? To watch?"

"But of course. Despite the great war between Keves and Agnus, Ouroboros is a threat to the world itself; it is only natural that such a foe would merit some manner of cooperation between our nations, if only until they're dealt with." N quietly stepped in, turning his sword so that its edge hovered horizontally near her neck. "You should be grateful, that their taint will be expunged; that your Colony will soon be free from their pitiful machinations."

Ashera wanted to snark back at him, but the phantom pain in her throat had suddenly spiked; she couldn't breathe without a neck (of course you're breathing, it's all in your snuffing HEAD), she couldn't be alive (you're not dead yet), so all she could do was wait for the inevitable-

"Does it hurt?" Ashera blinked at the sudden question, staring into the Consul's eyes. There was a certain hatred there, directed...not at her, but at someone else. (But who?) "That scar of yours. It looks strangely...old, yet fresh."

"...I'm not sure," she managed to mutter.

The Consul peered intently at her, as though taking her measure. (But for what?) "I don't know what strange ideas Ouroboros may have stirred, but confronting your pain as though it were a mere wall to surpass is a recipe for failure. You can only crash into it so many times before you go insane." Calmly, he said his next words as though they were his personal oath. "All you have to do, is resign yourself to the flow...and all will be well."

He sounded so sure, so confident. (For a moment, she may have even believed him.) "The...flow...?"

N briefly quirked his lips: a small smirk, there and gone like dust in the wind. "Perhaps a conversation for another time, when you're more amenable." He stepped away, sheathing his Blade. (Just like that, she could breathe again.) Raising his voice, he spoke to the Colony as a whole. "Until the Eclipse has passed, Colony 11's operations will be restricted to the Keves Castle Region; any that break this quarantine will be treated as irredeemably corrupted by Ouroboros, and treated accordingly. Consider this a test of...loyalty." Turning his back to her, the Golden Consul added, "After all, to unilaterally excise the entire Colony for the sins of Ouroboros...just wouldn't be fair." Without another word, he teleported away.

"...arsehole," grumbled the notoriously taciturn Clad.

Ashera couldn't help but agree, even as she willed her hands not to reach for her neck. There's no wound. It's not real. It's just...a memory. "...well, that was certainly an interesting visit," she jauntily said.

"Are we going to comply with his orders?" asked Zoren, his brow set into a hard line.

"But of course; our hands are tied," she nonchalantly remarked. Waving a hand through her hair, she then added, "However, we weren't forbidden from sending messages to those who may be less...restricted, than we are." The Three Ravens all seemed to understand her meaning without another word. "At any rate, let's get the Training Pit cleaned up; those Levnises aren't going to repair themselves."

As her subordinates set about to their duties, Ashera gazed up at the remnant of their Ferronis's Flame Clock: a sign of Ouroboros's influence, and a mark of condemnation in the eyes of the Castle. More importantly, though, were the memories it evoked of those delightfully naive brats: Eunie especially, who — in spite of her entertainingly vociferous complaints to the contrary — was so very much like her. Warriors born in a world of strife, we are...no matter how much it carves away at us, the way our lives end will still be a testimony of who we are...

In the end, going out by execution at Agnus's hands...it just didn't sit right. Such an ignominious death did not suit the likes of Ouroboros.

(If such a demise galls a bloodthirsty beast like you, imagine how much it must be eating away at them.)

At this point, Ashera could only live on (and oh, what a tall task that was, as the literal pain in her neck kept growing bit by bit...!), in the hopes that she would see them again.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 4, following the liberation of Colony 11 and the completion of the Three Raven quests/

/Hovering Reef 5, Syra Hovering Reefs, Keves Castle Region/



It was whilst traversing the Syra Hovering Reefs that Lanz finally unlocked Ashera's class for himself; Eunie (and then Taion) had been using it for long enough that his 'Ouroborosness' was able to finally get a handle on it. (There was probably a more technical way of putting it, but it made sense, so there.)

Taion seemed grateful to slot back into a Healer role, yammering on about how "this Defender class requires a lot more Agility than you'd expect to be tactically viable" before shifting to Teach's Thaumaturge class. Eunie was still sticking with Ashera's Blade, if only to help Lanz get some of the finer points that mere instinct and intuition wouldn't get across.

As everyone else took a brief break — because spark it all the path winding up this Hovering Reef's tallest peak was long — Lanz dutifully performed drills with Eunie, if only so he didn't accidentally nick himself with the Twinsaber (which, to be fair, was because he was taller than both Eunie and Ashera).

Minutes into their practice, Lanz decided to ask a question that had been bugging him. "Say, Eunie."

"What is it?" she remarked, resting the tip the dual-bladed weapon into the ground.

"Been meaning to ask...why exactly did Ashera get under your skin so much?"

His old podmate blinked, as one startled. "Eh? Whaddya mean? How could she not?"

"I mean, I get that she's a bit out there..."

"A 'bit'?" Eunie narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "This ain't because you admire her, is it? I mean, you knew about her before we ever got introduced."

Lanz rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, that ain't fair. Nobody got on us for knowing about Ethel, and nobody else got any grief for knowing about Alexandria." There were a few other figures he could probably think about with some notoriety in Keves, like 'Subtle Orsolya' of the Silver-ranked Colony 5. (Alas, little did he know that his knowledge of their Rank was outdated...but that's a story for later.) Even Colony 8's commander would have merited some recognition, had that Colony not been recently destroyed under mysterious circumstances. "Besides, I'm not wrong, am I? You're a lot more bothered by Ashera than you ever were by Ethel."

Eunie audibly scowled. "That ain't the same, and you know it."

"...is it, though?" he wondered aloud. "Ethel and Cammuravi...were both going to die. Yet instead of turning their Ferronises on the Consuls, they chose to fight each other to the literal death. Maybe...Ashera's just more honest about it all."

Eunie scowled, crossing her arms in an almost petulant manner. "And that doesn't bother you? Just 'cause we tried to make nice with her doesn't mean we have to ignore her faults."

"...Eunie, what's this really about?" asked Lanz with genuine curiosity. "I mean, is it because she let that Moebius go, instead of finishin' her off?" That would at least make some sense; letting Consul R live was gonna bite them in the arse, further down the line.

"...no," admitted Eunie with a frown. She walked over towards the edge of the pathway, letting her legs dangle off. Lanz quietly joined her, staring out at the distant horizon. It brought to mind old times: of when they had survived yet another battle, and were waiting for Noah to finish his off-seeing before they could head back. (In a bit of cosmic irony, the faint sound of Noah's and Mio's flutes could be heard from nearby; two off-seers trying to bleed away the tension, as Keves Castle loomed large in their immediate future.) "We only fought because we had to...to keep our Clocks fed, to make it just one more day. And to hear someone act so flippantly about it all..." Turning her nose up, Eunie mimicked Ashera's tone rather well. "'Yes. I want to die.'" She growled, still ticked off by it. "Whatever Ethel had with Cammuravi...I still don't understand it. But if there was a way for both of them to live...I think they would have taken it. That's the difference between them and Ashera."

Lanz stared ahead, mulling over the thoughts in his mind. (Something still didn't seem right, though.) "...but you made nice with Ashera, right? After Noah told you to go apologize?" (Which had been a pretty radical step, all things considered...though, their relations with other Commanders of freed Colonies had been relatively more cordial. Maybe Noah was just built to be more diplomatic than they were?)

"Yeah, and?"

"So why all the tosh? You're usually quicker to let things go. Have an argument, throw some sparks, and then it's all done." (Not like you can lecture anyone; even after everything, you still can't get over Joran.) "How come?"

Eunie glared. "What's got you so nosy all of a sudden?"

"...not sure I can tell you why," he admitted (because the feelings he could sense when Interlinking with Sena as of late were a whole 'nother kettle of fish). "But you've always been nosy when it comes to me and Noah. Fair's fair, right?"

The girl fiddled with the tip of her right head wing; was she actually that anxious about whatever she was thinking about? "...it wasn't that long ago, you know? Where we cheered after each battle...full of joy over how we had managed to kill the Agnians before we could be killed."

"...you regret it?" he asked.

She looked at him like he was crazy. "Of course! Do you not?!"

Lanz huffed, suddenly feeling much older than his nine terms. (Sparks, if that Guernica fella managed to live to sixty terms, how had he not gone bonkers?) "I mean...what would be the point? Got too much to regret about things I can't change as it is; when that life was all we knew...how were we expected to be any different?" Looking up at the sky — as twilight gave way to shiny stars — he admitted, "I was serious, you know? About making it to Homecoming, and dragging you all with me...because I really believed that was the peak." It seemed silly, in retrospect...but snuff, it had been his ambition for a reason. "And Colony 11? They all talk about being a bunch of misfits, that couldn't fit in with any other Colony...that could have easily been us." Just like...it could've been me, who died back then. If not for Joran. (So many things, reducible to 'what if?'...)

Eunie gave a thoughtful hum, finally letting some of her prickliness fade. "...I don't like that thought, you know? That I could've ended up with a mindset like Ashera's. Wanting to fight, only to die. I still don't get it..."

"But do we have to? There are things about Noah that I don't understand, even after all this time." (Seriously, the off-seer sometimes seemed like his mindset had come from a different world entirely; it was a miracle he had managed to retain it for as long as he had.) "Same with you."

Eunie arched an eyebrow. "Me? I'm pretty open; what about me could you not get?"

"Like how you haven't managed to slug Taion more, for how much you two go at each other," he said with a grin.

Eunie instead slugged him in the shoulder, a fond smile finally rising on her face. "You're such a sparkin' muppet, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one!"

Before long, their brief heart-to-heart came to an end; having recovered their stamina, Ouroboros continued their trek through the Hovering Reefs.

xxxx

With everything that would occur in Keves Castle and the subsequent revelations within the City, it's easy to understand why such a conversation would linger in the background.

Yet, the thoughts and feelings would still ruminate, waiting for a fuller expression.

For later on — as Ouroboros traversed the world with Nia, hunting for the Origin Shards — the truth behind Ashera's seemingly suicidal mindset would become known.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, during the hunt for the Origin Shards with Queen Nia/

/Colony 11, Keves Castle Region/

Taion was grateful that Nia could be circumspect when circumstances required it. She had wisely remained out of the way when Ouroboros and Ashera had fought both Consul R and Consul W, because why advertise to Moebius that she was out and about? (Even if they likely knew of her awakening, there was no point in rubbing their faces in it. It would only invite more trouble needlessly.)

(Nia had been unusually eager to stay away, lingering within the Maktha Wildwood whilst they dealt with whatever Consul R had unleashed upon Colony 11. "I'm feeling some real icky vibes," the Agnian Queen had muttered, as a way of warning them. Given her talent for healing, it's quite reasonable that Consul W's manipulated 'dolls' would have felt downright abominable...)

Even so, he wondered what might have happened if Nia had been present during that confrontation; would her healing abilities have been able to nullify W's control? No point in wondering now, I suppose. With the conclusion of that battle — complete with the revelation that Ashera had known the truth about Moebius, about the cycle of rebirth! — Eunie had been in a rather introspective mood.

After talking with Ashera in private, that sense of introspection had not faded...even if it had been tempered with a sense of resolution.

As such, he wasn't surprised when she finally spoke her mind, whilst eating across from him at the Colony's Canteen. It was a rare moment of privacy, whilst the others had gone to notify Nia of recent events. "Say, Taion. I've...got an odd question for you."

"What is it, Eunie?" he asked.

"...how do you feel about 'death pacts'?"

He blinked with genuine confusion. "...pardon?"



Eunie groaned, wings twitching out of annoyance directed inwardly (by now, he could tell the difference between when someone irritated her and when she irritated herself). "Just figured I might as well talk it out, because I don't wanna hear any panicking from you the next time we Interlink. 'Cause I know you're gonna ask about it." Thus, she gave an abridged summary of her last conversation with Ashera — clearly glossing over items of a more private nature — that, at the very least, imparted the knowledge that Ashera's gungho mentality was not quite so. "So...there."

"...hmm," he said, not giving his thoughts immediately one way or another. "And you truly believe she was sincere?"

Eunie nodded. "I mean...it felt right, you know? The way she talked about how her old life ended...I could have been like that." She gestured towards her right eye. "Moebius D...he'd been quick, when killing the old me. But Ashera...I don't know if it's something with her cradle, if it's some sick joke by Moebius, or what...but the thought of dealing with that sort of pain, day in and day out? It's..."

"...frightening?" Taion had privately wondered why precisely the boisterous Defender had seemed to grind Eunie's gears; perhaps the similarities between the two had irked her. Now, though, with greater understanding...that irritation had diminished, to say the least. "To know that, for but a change of circumstances, you could have been just like her?"

Eunie wordlessly nodded.

"...I can understand the logic behind it," he admitted, even if the thought of Eunie dying in a suicide pact with Ashera chilled him to the core. (The thought of Eunie dying, period, had come to haunt his nightmares as of late; taking the place of Mio's demise, so common a dream it had been prior to the Eclipse.) "Just as I can understand why you would be irritated by having so many likenesses with Ashera."

"Why's that?"

"Because we tend to be our own worst enemies," he quietly said, thinking of his old friend called 'Self-Loathing'. "I imagine that if I met someone just like me, I would be equally perturbed."

The thought made Eunie snort. "We've already got troubles with N being another version of Noah. I can't even imagine more than one of you."

"Precisely." Finishing the last of his gamey stew, he added, "Even so...I am glad, about what you told her at the end."

"Eh?"

"About how our lives don't just belong to us." Looking down at one of his Mondo — standing up at attention on the table — he solemnly continued, "The way we live...and the way we die...it leaves impacts on everyone around us." How much had Nimue's death affected him, Isurd, and the rest of Lambda? How much had Joran's death altered the very way of life for Lanz, Eunie, and Noah? "So...with all that being said, I'm glad you reminded Ashera of that. Because when your life ends, Eunie..." It'll be...awful. The thought didn't bear contemplating...even though, intellectually, he knew it would come, one day. However, he did not voice his own private fears; now was not the time nor place for that sort of talk. "...whenever it ends, I trust that you'll go down fighting, no matter what."

Eunie rolled her eyes at him. "Well duh, it's not like I'm just gonna become a pile of ash because of this thing I got with Ashera. If I'm like her...then she's also like me: I don't think she wants to be a quitter...so she'll go down fighting as well." Placing her fist on the table, she leaned forward with a stern expression. "And you'd better go down fighting too, you hear me?"

"But of course." To do anything less would be to sully everything they had accomplished as Ouroboros.

Suddenly...

"Aw, look at my chum and her partner, bonding over my terrible secret!"

Taion and Eunie both jolted at the unexpected intrusion of Ashera, looming over the side of their table. "Wha...have you been eavesdroppin'?!" yelled a scandalized Eunie.

"Well, this is the canteen in the Colony that I command, so it's not like have to ask permission to be here." Shooting Taion a snarky grin, Ashera added, "I certainly hope this means we can be buddies; after all, Eunie's friends might as well be my friends."

Eunie's wings flapped with indignation. "Oi, what are you on about-?!"

"Disagreements with the way you comport yourself aside, there was never any question of us being able to establish a working relationship," diplomatically said Taion, interrupting Eunie's tirade before she could get going. "After all, out of our entire group, Eunie was the only one who was outright hostile to you."

Ashera blinked, as if suddenly reminded of that fact. "Ah...I suppose that is true, Poindexter."

"...I could do without the pejorative nickname, however," he dryly said.

Ashera chuckled in a patronizing manner. "Well, if you two could get with your Ouroboros pals whenever they get back, I have an invitation of sorts I'd like to talk to you all about...something to clear away this gloomy little atmosphere we've got going on!"

"Gloomy?" simultaneously retorted Eunie and Taion.

"Trust me, after I tell you all what I have in mind, you'll be downright ecstatic..."

xxxx

The tale of 'The Championship Melee Of Doom And Pleasure For All of Colony 11' (or whatever title Ashera would come up with; it was a work-in-progress!) would be told elsewhere.

Even so, the more important thing to consider is Eunie's realization of a rather simple truth: sometimes, the things that irritate you the most about other people...are the things which you most disdain about yourself.

Yet, that doesn't stop others from overcoming those faults.

And if they can...then so can you.

Even if it takes a helping hand or two along the way.

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/Colony Mu, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/

For all that Fiona had tried to get Colony Mu back on its feet following Irma's demise...for all that she had tried to become stronger, in order to carry the secret of Consul I's identity...for all that she had appreciated Tallow's help in shouldering that burden...there was no doubt, that she had relied so much upon Ouroboros. Without Lan-Lan, Sennie, and the others...she'd still be laboring under a web of deceit, fashioned to look like a comfortable security blanket.

As such, it was with some measure of trepidation that Fiona heard about the arrival of a Silver Moebius: the Prime Consul of Agnus herself, M. "She...wants to see me?" she nervously asked.



"Yes," nervously said Nico, her hands fiddling with each other. "She told Nico to get you, to send you to...where all the flowers are." Nervously, the young third-termer added, "I made sure to let her know that I'm Nico, just to be on the safe side, you know! Erm-"

"It's okay Nico," comforted Fiona, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll...go and talk to her."

"Does...Nico need to do anything...?"

Fiona shook her head, putting on a brave smile. "Return to your post. Act like everything's normal. I'm sure...everything will be fine."

"Fifi...!" cutely whined Nico.

I have to be strong, thought Fiona, quietly walking along the paths through her Colony; along the way, Ayase and Tallow both tried to come along. She ordered Ayase to calm the others down, whilst she told Tallow to keep everyone away from the Bed of Woes and Wishes. I...have to be strong. Irma...give me strength.

At the far edge of the flowery field, looking over the edge of the world, was Consul M. With her long curtain of silver hair and unique armor, the Prime Consul cut an image far different from all the other Consuls. Perhaps that, more than anything, contributed to the air of unease she felt.

Strangely, upon seeing her masked face — standing side-by-side at the cliff, mere inches separating them from the great abyss — Fiona couldn't help but think of Mio. "Um...is there something I can do to assist, Lady Prime Consul...?"

"The Castle received word that Consul I was vanquished by Ouroboros," she said, with a tone that could be described as frosty...no, not that harsh; it was the kind of cold that fit the word 'detached', or 'distant'. "That is true, yes?"

"...yes," admitted Fiona.

"Colony Mu is under suspicion for collaborating with Ouroboros, even though they were declared enemies of the nation by our Queen. Do you understand the ramifications of this?" All the while, Consul M looked straight ahead, seemingly not bothering to look at her.

"I...I believe so," she forced herself to say. "But...the people of my Colony...they didn't do anything wrong...and we haven't acted against other soldiers of Agnus-!"

"The Castle is aware of this," interrupted M. "As such, a grace period is being extended to you all. If you do not act against Agnus up until the upcoming Eclipse, then a determination will be made as to whether supply drops will resume for Colony Mu."

As Fiona's heart briefly lit up — that would relieve so much pressure off of her friends! — she wondered as to why the Castle even suspected they would act against their nation. "If...if you don't mind me asking, Lady Prime Consul...why would the Castle think we'd fight against our people...?"

"Beyond the natural suspicions they have regarding Ouroboros? It is because, during the Eclipse, every single member of Ouroboros will be executed." Coolly — calmly — she added, "Given your Colony's proximity...when their faces are projected into the sky above Erythia Sea...it is not unreasonable to assume that you would act to assist those who destroyed your Flame Clock. Am I wrong?"

Fiona didn't know what to think. A distant memory of Irma — helping to gather all of Colony Mu on their island's largest dock, the year prior; having them watch with a strangely solemn air as 'rebels' and 'criminals' were executed, reminding them of Queen Nia's sovereign authority over life and death itself — bubbled up, unbidden and unchallenged. The thought of her new friends getting down on their knees, with necks extended to receive the edge of an executioner's Blade...! "I...they...but...!"

Consul M quietly looked at her; what was going on behind that stoic, golden gaze? "I trust that you will maintain control over your Colony."

"But...they're...!" What am I supposed to do?! Ouroboros were her friends; they had saved her and the entire Colony! Even if Irma had died, how could she ignore their plight...?! "Lady Prime Consul, I..."

Turning towards her fully, Consul M's left eye glowed.

Fiona's expression went slack with bewilderment; there was the crimson sigil of the Consuls, yet there was also that burning ring of fire that she had seen in the eyes of Mio, Taion, and Sena: a strange amalgamation of Moebius and Ouroboros. What...?

"Fiona," solemnly said Consul M (or was it...?), the depth of her expression fully hidden by her mask. "What was the oath of your Colony? Trust your crew..." She paused, waiting for her to continue.

Could it be...? "Trust yourself."

"Trust in victory," continued M.

...Mio?? "All hearts as one." With lip trembling, Fiona muttered, "How...what's going on...?"

"I cannot speak anymore. All I ask is that you keep your Colony busy, through the time of the Eclipse. And...that what's been spoken here, remains between us. No one else can know. Do you understand?" she implored, finally letting a familiar hint of her natural tone through.

"I...I'm not sure I understand." How are you a Consul, now? What happened to the actual M? Will your comrades be okay?! "But...I'll do my best." (For whatever that was worth...)

M nodded slowly. "Thank you. It is a heavy burden I'm placing on your shoulders, so soon after you've taken on so much more responsibility...but that is what comes with being a leader...with being a Commander." Looking afar to some distant point, she added, "I've met so many men and women that have embodied that reality...and I know you'll do the same." Without another word, Consul M departed, warping away in a shower of purple sparks.

Fiona stared, trying to wrap her mind around what had just occurred. Ouroboros...they're supposed to be executed...and the Castle's watching to see if we'll go help...but the way Mio talked...it'll all be fine. Somehow. She would have to trust in her resolve, and have faith that all would be well...even if she didn't know how it would all pan out. Irma...I don't know what you would do in this situation...but I'll believe in my friends. With head held high, Fiona turned away from the cliff, walking back towards her Colony.

Naturally, the entirety of Mu had bunched up at the threshold dividing the field of flowers from the rest of the Colony, barely held back by Tallow and Ayase; only as she approached did their discipline finally break, as she was mobbed and bombarded with questions.

"It's all right everyone; we're not in trouble!" she cried out once the tide of queries began to subside. "Consul M...she was just telling us that we're under supervision by the Castle, to see how we act after our Flame Clock was destroyed."

"But we're good soldiers! We wouldn't fight against Agnus!" exclaimed Hildemarie, her large ears drooping with dismay.

"I know that. We know that. But we're going to persevere, okay?" I'll make sure.

Even as Fiona reassured everyone that all would be well...even though she was sure (judging by the curious looks she received) that her lieutenants suspected more was afoot...she vowed to soldier on.

It was just one more secret, amidst the one she already shared with Tallow about Irma's true identity as Moebius I.

One more burden to carry.

She would carry it. She would.

xxxx

And meanwhile, from atop the defunct Ferronis of Mu, a certain Moebius watched with a curious eye. "Well...ain't that interestin'..."

With a hearty chuckle, Triton vanished from sight.

xxxx

Chapter Text

Triton, by most accounts, seemed fairly simple.

("Ahh, I do love the sea. So I'm taking this thing on a trip!" he exclaimed to Ouroboros. "I just love watchin' the sea from a Ferronis, truth be told.")

Even though he was a Moebius, and a capable brawler...his threat level seemed rather mitigated by an attitude that would be deemed downright hedonistic compared to most people on Aionios.

("...there are things on the sea so tasty they'll make ye weep! Along with some gigantic monsters." The Moebius sounded excited just talking about them. "So I arranged for them to be here! Things you landlubbers would never dream of!")

His scatterbrained mentality further reduced his threat level, making him seem rather good-natured, if sadly...melancholic, at times.

("I remember now..." he muttered, looking at the pot of legendary miso, concocted by his long-departed friend. "He and I...we journeyed to gather ingredients that would match this stuff. But...when we finally arrived here...that blasted monster went and ate him!" Scowling at the blue Ekidno's corpse, he growled, "And he...he entrusted this to me...idiot!" Smacking his hand onto his head, he bitterly muttered, "How could I-? How could I ever have forgotten something that damn-well important?!")

However...even if many aspects had been lost to the void, they still lingered in the essence of who Triton was: hanging on, unwilling to let go, lest they be lost forever.

That was what it meant to be a Moebius.

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Number of Years Prior to Melia's Capture by Z/

"You're a strong man, Triton; why wouldn't you want to help us retake Origin?!"

Triton grinned toothily, looking back over his shoulder at the poor slob who was on night watch. "Ye've got a strange way of looking at things, my man; the Queens are hellbent on throwing everything they've got to retaking that giant ball of tech and whatnot." Running a hand through spiky black hair, he gestured towards the grand landscape of Aionios, spanning far and wide away from where Origin currently sat. "They're too busy focused on the past, when there's a whole new world ripe for the taking!"

"...are you mad?! This world isn't supposed to exist! The geeks in R&D keeping saying that its very foundations are unstable; you've seen the Annihilation Events!"

"Which means it's not gonna be around forever; that's what makes it so valuable, ye see?" Clenching his fist, Triton looked at the distant shape of the Great Sword: a great landmark on the horizon, but still just a small part of the world. "It only makes sense, right? Being from the world of the Bionis and the Mechonis...I've only ever had stories about Alrest and Elysium, from those that've been awoken by the Queens to fight this 'Z' fellow. Now's my only chance to see 'em for myself, even if it's just parts of 'em!"

"But-!"

Waving him off, Triton — bushy black beard swishing from his movements — added, "Bah, Queen Melia's brighter than a Nebula and craftier than a Nopon merchant. And yer from that Alrest place, aint'cha? I'm sure your Nia's just as capable a leader; I bet they'll have this whole thing cracked in a year, and we'll be back in our own worlds, none the wiser! So until then...I'm gonna have a good time."

Ignoring the patrolman's pleas, Triton sauntered on into the night, with only the clothes on his back, a rucksack full of supplies, and Ether-enhanced knuckle dusters to his name.

xxxx

Aionios was Triton's oyster.

He traversed the lands, fighting monsters of every shape and size, and tasting whatever delights he could find. Though the remnants of his old world poked through here and there, there were so many new things that could only have been traces of Alrest, of Elysium. It was a downright blast!

So much so, that he never really bothered thinking about changes in the wider world. It thus came as a surprise, during a chance encounter with a Nopon Caravan years later, that he learned of Queen Melia's capture by Z.

With the other Queen, Nia, having gone into hiding, there was a power vacuum. Into that empty void, emerged the nations of Keves and Agnus.

War gripped Aionios...and now matter how much time passed, it seemed to be caught in a perpetual stalemate.

By this point, Triton had stopped caring, because what could he do to change the current state of affairs? He was just one man...and there was still so much of Aionios left to see!

Even as his hair turned gray, he kept on going. There was far too much for one man to witness, even in a single lifetime...

Oh, if only there was more time...!

xxxx



"You've been on quite the journey."

Triton frowned, wondering why he was sitting in...a theater? "Well...how did I get here...?" He'd last...been on that great sea, near the base of the Great Sword. There had been a storm...and then...he'd gone overboard...? "Am I...dead?"

"That is a choice you can make, if you so desire."

Looking to his left, Triton arched an eyebrow at the figure before him: with cracked skin and purple fire leaking out of his skull, the stranger cut a quite ghastly figure. "Well, you look like you need some sunlight. And what do you mean by 'choice'?"

The pale man with crimson eyes gazed at the screen. "Choices: everyone's life is determined by the choices they make." Triton followed his gaze; on the canvas was footage of his very self, walking away so long ago to face the vastness of Aionios on his own. "By choosing to walk away, an entire web of alternative times, lives, and decisions were cut away: a great branch, severed from the tree that is your life. Yet you grew regardless, feasting upon the fertile soil you've professed this world to be. And yet...a tree, no matter how great and grand, eventually withers...and dies. Such a shame."

"...what's yer name, bud?"

"My name is Z. I am the ruler of this world."

So THIS is who the Queens were fightin'. He wasn't quite sure what to think; he'd been removed from the idea of retaking Origin for so long that the thought of fighting Z seemed pointless. Even so, this lunk had somehow captured Queen Melia...so there was a bit of pride as a loyal subject still lingering. "Heh; I'm tempted to take a punch at ya myself. But if ye managed to pluck me from the depths of the sea, I imagine there'd be no point to tryin'. What's yer angle?"

"The life you sought for yourself is one that you've enjoyed, in spite of all the odds placed against you." On the screen was an image of Triton suplexing a Gogol. "And yet, the timespan of your life is limited; the chance of enjoying everything was denied to you from the very start."

"Ye act like a man can live forever. I may be a greedy sort, but I ain't a fool."

"Why act so bewildered? In this world, life fuels life: you've witnessed this for yourself, in the battles between Keves and Agnus." On the screen, Triton could see himself watching a distant conflict between soldiers in black and white, with red motes soaring into the air with each blow. "And what is a life, but a series of moments in a causal chain from beginning to end? Any given moment can last for an eternity...if you but have the will to make it so."

Triton honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing. "...ye can do that?"

"Your particular way of existing...is relatively unique, in this world. That kind of life you embody...it would be a shame, for it to go to waste." On the screen was an image of Triton, watching a great fish roast over an open fire: the contented smile on his wrinkled face was impossible to ignore. "But if you believe that your time is over...and that you should let it all come to an end...then that is your choice."

...yeah, to HELL with that. "What's the catch?"

"Live as you have been," remarked Z, still watching Triton's past exploits. "It is enough, in and of itself, to keep the Endless Now going."

"...well, this is probably the easiest choice I'll ever make. Ye've got yerself a deal!"

Z finally looked at him, eyes glowing with crimson infinities. "Do as you please...T."

xxxx

Although he was ostensibly a servant of the Queens (Keves or Agnus, depending on which 'side' he was allied with at a given time), Triton knew they were just a bucket of bolts.

Thus, he focused mostly on exploring the unseen heights and undiscovered depths of Aionios: from the tallest peak to the deepest cave; were it not for a lack of fuel, he'd pick a horizon of the endless sea beyond Aionios's borders and keep on going. Sometimes, when he was bored, he'd pluck monsters from one region and stick them in another, just to mix things up a bit and see what happened.

Yet, his Moebius body required the consumption of life to keep going. No big deal! He'd have a punch up with whatever sorry sack of flesh came his way.

In those early untold years, Consul T was a figure of legend on the battlefield, plunging into battle against Agnian forces with reckless abandon. Then he would disappear, seeking out unique beasts and unusual sights in distant corners of the world...only to reemerge after the passage of decades, when the generations that had known him to be a scourge against Agnus were long dead. He'd then take a turn moonlighting as a crusader for Agnus, smashing Kevesi soldiers left and right!

Hell, there was even at least one time where he pretended to go mad, fighting Keves and Agnus at the same time! Not a few Gold-ranked Colonies fell to his fists.

When so many faces always ended up emerging once more from the cradles, years down the line...it was easy to think of it all as a game: a mere sport to play at.

But all games eventually grow old...

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Period Prior to the Destruction of the First City/

"I've heard rumors of a 'City' in the far north of Erythia Sea," muttered Triton.

"Er...Consul T?"

"Hmm?" The Moebius gazed over his shoulder at the confused expression of Colony 20's Commander. "What? I'm just thinkin' aloud." He hadn't heard the word 'city' in a good long while. (How long had it been?)

"Ah. Right." The brown-haired man with two-toned skin of gray looked back to the squads behind them; thus far, they had managed to avoid most of the tougher beasties in Maktha Wildwood. "If the reports I've been reading are right, then they're a conglomerate of rebels who have chosen to form their own polity. Since they're situated deeper in Agnus's territory, it'd be best to let them bleed away at each other...in my professional opinion, sir."

Triton chuckled to himself, waiting patiently for the sappers to deal with whatever defensive measures locked the door in front of them. "They honestly sound quite interesting...once we finish explorin' these crusty old ruins, maybe I'll pay this 'City' a visit." He'd been stationed in the Wildwood for a while now, and Erythia Sea had always calmed his ancient soul.

"Consul T, if I may be so bold...what benefit will we gain from exploring this place? These overgrown structures have existed for as long as Keves has; whatever's of value has likely been plundered long before we ever emerged from the cradle."

Triton slapped the sharpshooter on the back with a hearty laugh. "Ah, you'd think. But I bet there's treasure in those depths!"

"...if you say so," muttered the put upon Commander. "How's that breach coming, Bolearis?"

"We're almost through, Commander Mwamba! Give us five...more...seconds!" With a screech of sparks, their equipment finally broke through the rusted door; with power frames whining, Bolearis and his mates grabbed the edges of the double doors and heaved. "Come on Dougie, put your back into it!" roared Bolearis.

"Speak for yourself," growled the burly Defender, putting every single bit of his two metri frame into pulling.

With a triumphant cry, they opened the doors.

At that precise moment, the darkness beyond echoed with monstrous shrieks, as humanoid beasts embedded with blue crystals suddenly emerged. "What, what the spark are those things?!" cried a confused soldier.

"Oh ho, so that's what a Guldo looks like!" exclaimed Triton, finally glad to put a face to the creature he'd heard about so long ago, from people he honestly hadn't thought about in ages. "Don't worry men! They can be killed...so GET TO KILLIN'!"

Driven by desperation, the soldiers of Colony 20 leapt into battle against the unknown monstrosities.

Triton, meanwhile, tapped Mwamba on the shoulder. "It's Moebin' Time!" he exclaimed with anticipation.

Mwamba blinked, mouth agape with dumbfounded astonishment. "...must I? We're in a tight spot-!"

"It's. Moebin'. Time," Consul T insisted.

"...fine." Sighing tiredly, Mwamba muttered, "It's Mwambin' Time."

"Ha ha! THAT'S the spirit!" exclaimed Triton as he transformed into his empowered form. "Now, let's have some fun!"

"Are you ever going to explain that power of yours?!" exclaimed Mwamba, raising his ether rifle to his shoulder.

"Eh, there'll be time for that later!" With a hearty holler, Triton — Moebius T — leapt into the fray.

xxxx

It was not the first time that Triton had let slip certain things about Moebius to the Colonies under his command.

Nothing about Z, or Origin, or things like that, to be sure...but the fact that Consuls could transform into powerful behemoths? That was fair game!

Some of the other Moebius complained about how lightly he treated their secrets...but why should he worry?

The men and women they commanded, be they Kevesi or Agnian...they'd die eventually. So why worry?

Yes...why worry indeed.

(Somehow, that sounded sad, when it once hadn't been.)

xxxx

Triton calmly walked out of the decrepit skyscraper, feeling somewhat...refreshed. Been a while since I've met beasties that could take more than one punch from my transformed body...what a riot! Sitting down with a tired grin, he leaned against the wall: an unaging remnant of an undying city, always stuck in a state of decay amidst a timeless world. (Kind of like Moebius, to be honest.) "What...a hoot. Ain't that right, Mwamba?"

There was no answer.

"Mwamba? Bolearis?" Triton looked back through the door, lips etched into a frown. "Dougie? Connor? Kayla? Anyone?" His voice echoed into the darkness. "I know you scallywags are there!"

Still no answer.



"...huh. Guess they all died against the Guldos." It had been so bloody dark in the depths of that building that he'd only focused on fighting and bashing the beasties. Only distantly, did he now recall the cloud of crimson motes that had littered the room: sticking out like errant dust caught amidst a ray of light. "...huh..." His hand was holding onto something; blinking dumbly, Triton held it up. "Oh right...that sign." Amidst the gloom, as the last Guldo had fallen, his eyes had caught a flash of bright letters against a dark background; not even thinking, he had picked it up as his rightful prize. "Let's see now...'GET MORE OUT OF LIFE'," he recited aloud, reading letters that he could only understand thanks to his Moebius body. "Get more out of life...HAH! The irony." He'd still be carrying on, to enjoy everything the world had to offer; such was his fate.

The Silver-ranked Colony 20, led by the peerless Crackshot Mwamba...would just be listed as another casualty in an endless war, until it (and all its soldiers) inevitably arose once more. Maybe next time I'll remember to actually tell them about why I can transform...

For some reason...that bothered him. "...how long have I been alive?" he suddenly wondered, out of the blue. The Wildwood did not answer; nor could he. How...how long have I been alive?

He sat there for a while, thinking with an uncharacteristic solemnity.

(It had slipped his mind, alas, to look into the City; it wouldn't be until after its destruction by the newest Moebius, N, that he would be reminded of its existence. By that point, it was too late to look into them.)

After untold days, he finally felt compelled to find something to eat.

(Every so often, he would meet one or two denizens of the reborn City in the years to come, out and about for one reason or another...but finding the City itself? That would be denied to him, for a very long time to come.)

"...wonder what I'll do next," he muttered to no one in particular.

xxxx

At some point, Triton had undergone a definite change.

Was it a function of age? Impossible, you might say: in an immortal Moebius body, he was unchanging. Yet, things began to slip away, here and there; it was the damnedest thing.

Even so, he kept doing what he did best...and slowly but surely began to incorporate his subordinates into more of his adventures, even beyond their missions for Keves or Agnus. Why not spread the wealth, so to speak? Why not share his enjoyment of life with those he was responsible for?

Alas...the very existence of the world kept that from happening.

The confines of Aionios — its immense landmass forming a great ring, as though it were a Flame Clock all its own — imprisoned everyone within its grasp.

Even Triton, for as long as he had lived, wasn't as free as he thought.

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Number of Years Prior to the Main Plot/

"...sir, why are you punching the Flame Clock?" asked Lieutenant Isurd.

Triton, face hidden by his crimson helm, huffed. "Just testing out me boat hooks!" Looking over his shoulder at Epsilon's second-in-command, he remarked, "Ye've got a problem, with that?"

"...well, you're frightening the soldiers. Our Flame Clock is very important, after all," he said, gazing at the sterling Ferronis overlooking the vastness of the Dannagh Desert.

"...so it be." Sighing with irritation, Triton turned on his heel. "Keep doin' what yer doin'. I'm gonna find a monster to take out my frustrations on."

Isurd blinked with confusion as the caped Consul walked away. "Um, not that you need an escort, but would you like an escort, sir?"

"Bah, don't mind me! I'll be back in a short while."

Thus it was, that Triton surged through the sands of the desert, punching at monstrous Arachnos and giant Aspars. Even as his fists flew, his thoughts raged. Damned Flame Clocks; if I could remember how to transform, I bet I'd shatter that thing into pieces! Punch, punch, squish. Then...I'd be able to give my friends a taste of the life I've been living...so they can enjoy it for themselves...! Punch, punch, splurch. My life is mine...their lives are MINE...not some wretched Clock's! Punch, punch, crunch. Their lives are mine, so I can set'em free if I want! What does a blasted CLOCK have to do with anythin'?! With a defiant roar, Triton pulverized a hapless Arachno Queen.

Breathing heavily, he grumbled as the blood of his foes sizzled off of his blazing boat hooks; he was so strong, and had conquered so many enemies...yet his mighty fists couldn't so much as dent the Flame Clock! This Colony, the Colony before that, and the Colony before that...no matter how hard I try, those blasted Clocks can't be broken...!

"Are you done with your little temper tantrum, T?"

Triton huffed with annoyance. "Yer in Agnian territory, Irma. Aren't ye s'posed to be attached to Colony 9 for the next few generations?"

The smaller Consul huffed, letting her Moebius helm — a slim red helmet with a relatively plain facemask of ivory covering the front, leaving only her eyes, falsely colored blue, to peer out — dissolve. Her sandy hair wavered in the wind, whilst her bright hazel eyes narrowed with agitation. "It's I, you clod. You're lucky anyone even bothers to check up on you, these days."

Triton huffed, letting his own piratesque helm dissolve. With a weathered face, he looked at the expression of someone who had been so young when they chose to become Moebius. (How long had it been, since he had accepted Z's offer? How long had he been a Moebius?) "Ye act like it's a favor. I'm still keeping the blasted Flame Clock filled, aren't I?"

"The Colonies you command rarely participate in battles with Keves; you usually have them going off on some half-baked journey. You're lucky that so many other Kevesi Consuls consider your Colony an easy mark that they'll go out of their way to attack you!"

"Hah! Let 'em try. The lads and lassies under my command have always been tough."

Huffing, she added, "Anyhow, you know Y gets irritated when you attack his Flame Clocks. They're his, after all."

"And? If he wants to complain, he can bring it up to my face."

Irma pouted, putting her hands on her hips. "You really don't get it, do you? I don't even know why I bother trying, anymore. It's like...more and more of who you are keeps slipping away. Doesn't that bother you?"

"We Moebius do as we please; that's the way it's always been. I ain't gonna suffer a lecture from a pipsqueak who hasn't been a Moebius for even half as long as I have," he snapped. "Besides, what's the point of having fun with eternity if those around us can't share in it?"

Irma honestly looked perturbed. "That's...crazy talk, T. This eternal war is the will of the world itself: an unending sacrifice of blood, to maintain this Eternal Moment!"

"Ye say that now," snarked Triton. "But one day, I wager you'll find yerself a Colony of subordinates who'll grow on you...and then it'll dawn on ye that this whole state of affairs is a mite less fun than ye thought. Ye got that kind of heart, I can tell."

Irma scowled. "You'd say that, even knowing why I became a Moebius...?"

"...remind me, why did you become Moebius?" he sincerely asked.

Irma's eyes widened with genuine shock, but only for a moment. "You..."

"...ah, I guess ye told me before," he admitted, feeling a bit contrite. It's not like he could help being forgetful!

"...stupidhead," she snarled, warping away without another word.

Sighing, Triton felt oddly drained. "Feh...what a pain. Now...where was I...agh, blast it all. Might as well head back to Epsilon; I'm sure it'll come back to me..."

(How little did either of them know, just how prescient Triton's words would be for Irma...but the story of Colony Mu has already been told.)

xxxx

Time continued to pass.

The sorrow, the anger, the frustration...it all became buried under the pitiless march of the Endless Now, calcified into a husk by the equally pitiess ravaging of Triton's memory.

His desires seemed to become simpler; in turn, he became more easily satisfied. Yet it lacked...sustenance. It would never be enough to give him true joy. So many faces came and went, that they tended to blur together; it was those he saw only once in a blue moon that managed to stick out the most. Alas, even they would become lost, to the murkiness of his mind...

Then...came the present age, and the newest incarnation of Ouroboros.

With the Flame Clock on Colony 15 sundered, his shackles had been released...to an extent.

However, the passage of time had left its mark...

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 6, After Completing Segiri's Hero Quest, yet Prior to Unlocking the Cloudkeep/

/Hargan Point, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/

As the Boundary pulled up besides the beach of Hargan Point, Triton was busy trying to assuage Ouroboros. "Look, it'll just be a quick trip!"

"Your subordinates were dropped off by a City Levnis to gather up the rest of your Ferronis's supplies," remarked Taion, adjusting his glasses with irritation. "I don't see why they can't just signal the vessel when they're ready."

"Ah, but ye were already in the City helping with some other business; might as well take care of this before ye go off to whatever it is ye need to do! Besides, I'm sure Astrid and Sonia will appreciate the help!"

Mio, with a put upon sigh, remarked, "It's fine, everyone; I'm sure our assistance will help everything go faster. Then we can make our way back to Captocorn Peak."

"Ugh, Queen's corset, it feels like we'll never get to our destination," groaned Eunie.

(In the background, Sena quietly looked up at Lanz. "Why does she swear by the Queen's...everything?")

(Lanz shrugged. "I'm as clueless as you.")

Triton laughed. "Ah, don't be so down!" Trodding upon the sand, he calmly led the way up the hill, where Colony 15's Ferronis still lingered; Ouroboros followed, leaving Riku and Manana to watch the ship. "Given all ye've done to help my lads and lasses adapt to the City, it's only fitting that this be the capstone for the arrangement!"

"I...guess so?" remarked Noah with the tilt of his head.

Taion sighed tiredly. "You're lucky enough that the Senate decided to overlook the times you entered the City without invitation to watch over your crew without being accompanied by us...like you agreed to."

Triton blinked. "That so? Sounds like a right pain, it does. I ain't even gotten into a single punch-up inside the City! That's a downright miracle, for the likes of me!"

"I...you..." sputtered Taion. "...ugh, I don't even know why I bother."

Truly, Triton felt lighter than he had in ages; Astrid and Sonia in particular were particularly excited to settle in the City, to start a new chapter in their lives. It was a possibility that had been denied to them for so long...and now, they were going to be living the dream. At least I've got one Colony I've been able to do right by, he thought with a satisfied smile. Cresting over the hill, the main encampment of Colony 15 came into view, surrounded by supply crates and thick canisters. "Ahoy, lasses! Ye've got..." His voice trailed off into a confused tone. "What...?"



Red motes.

Red motes, from the bodies of two young women: husks.

Standing beside them were four Agnian soldiers, suddenly alerted to their presence.

(Words echoed by from behind, unheard by him: "Their insignia," warned Taion, glaring at their gear. "Asha, Shikino, Lulika, and Yuri...the Blades in the Dark.")

("The assassination squad?" gasped Mio. "They must've gone rogue once Agnus Castle fell to the Lost Numbers!")

("Spark, they killed those two," growled Lanz.)

They killed Astrid and Sonia? But that didn't make any sense; they'd been freed from the Flame Clock! They no longer had any business in this wretched war! So why?! They...killed...my crew...

Joy had made Triton feel younger than he had in ages; already, he'd been reliving many memories of times gone by, thanks to his journeys with Ouroboros.

Yet...he was still a Moebius.

And he'd become a Moebius for a reason.

(His voice, far more youthful and cocky, echoed through his mind like a knife. "...there's a whole new world ripe for the taking!")

My Colonies were mine....they were mine.

Synapses fired, long unused.

With a hoarse growl, Triton slowly transformed. "Ye took...what belonged to me..." Blooming in size — uncaring for how Ouroboros backed away with sudden alarm — Moebius T glared at his newest prey. "Ye shouldn't have done that."

xx

"What the snuff?!" exclaimed Lanz, watching with shock as Triton transformed. "I thought this mudder said he forgot how to transform?!"

"Well he definitely remembered now!" yelled Eunie, nervously aiming her Gunrod at the Moebius.

The hulking form of Moebius T was somewhat unique: despite being as tall as Moebius Y, his physique was lean and lithe, akin to Moebius D; the only exception were his forearms, which bore utterly monstrous musculature. "Come at me, ye dead men walking!" howled T, charging on all fours like a Gogol.

The four Agnian assassins quickly acted like a well-oiled unit, turning their weapons — two pairs of handguns, dual ether blades, and a pronged lance — upon his form. However, their combined strengths mattered little when they didn't even come up to his knees.

To say that it was a slaughter...would be putting it mildly.

Shikino got pulped by a single mighty fist, plowing her into the ground; Lulika's shots were blocked by his arm, his other hand reaching out to fling her into the rocky canyon walls, where she collapsed bonelessly; his great head launched downward into a vicious headbutt, the impact snapping Asha in half; finally, he leapt at the last gunfighter, using his hands to punch at Yuri over, and over, and over. After fifteen seconds of unmitigated blows, the assassin had been rendered into an unrecognizable smear in the ground.

All told, the seasoned Agnian assassins had been put down in less than a minute.

"...um...Triton...?" nervously said Sena, holding onto her hammer for dear life.

"Has he lost himself...?" wondered Mio.

Moebius T slowly turned, aiming wide, violet eyes at them that promised violence.

Lanz scowled, impulsively adopting Triton's class; even though he hated donning the colors of Moebius, it was still Triton's power...and he would use it as he willed. "Come on!" he roared, fists glowing with purple boat hooks. "Is this what a brave man of the sea is really like? A monster that's lost his mind?!"

Moebius T snarled, fists curling into the dirt; his fingers carved thick trenches, promising great and terrible punishment...until with a roaring snarl, he punched himself in the face.

All of Ouroboros blinked with confusion. "What's happening now?" exclaimed Taion.

Whatever the motive had been, it seemed to have brought Triton to his senses; in a burst of light, he quietly returned to his normal state. "...well now, that was a rush," muttered Triton, looking around with eyes that seemed to focus in and out at random. "Ah...right." Looking upon the husks of Astrid and Sonia, he said, "Kids. Mind seeing off my crew?"

"...but of course," muttered Mio, reaching for her flute with a forced calm.

"...oh, and ye might as well send off those four saps as well," he added, casually gesturing towards the four Agnians he had just turned into corpses.

"...are...are you sure?" asked Noah, trying to be diplomatic. "They...were the ones who killed your friends."

"Ah, so they did. They're just doin' what they were s'posed to be doin'...can't fault 'em for that." Sighing, Triton calmly trudged along, sparing the husks of his two subordinates one last glance. "I'll be waitin' on the ship."

As the old Moebius walked away, Lanz followed him with his eyes, lips turned into a concerned scowl. "...what the spark...?"

"No kidding," agreed Sena.

"...we should grab what supplies we can," advised Taion, looking at the carnage with a grim expression. "No need to let this day end on such a dour note..."

"Too late for that," muttered Eunie.

Before long, the sound of two flutes echoed through the canyon: a funeral dirge, for the murdered and their murderers.

xxxx

The mood on the Boundary was somber, as they made their way back to the docks at the southern edge of Erythia Sea, where Colony 15's supplies would be processed. As Riku piloted the ship in stern silence, Triton felt the stares of Ouroboros upon him. (Not that he could blame them.) "Ye kids have questions, I take it."

"...you said you had forgotten how to transform," said Taion. "Was that a lie?"

"Nah, t'was no lie. Not sure what happened in the moment, just now; I felt a lot of feelings. I'd normally empty 'em out with my fists...but it was too much, it seems." Triton, despite how much he towered over the six kids, felt rather small. "Can't even remember what went through my head, and it just happened not even a half hour ago...ain't that a hoot?"

"Triton," said Sena with compassion. "Are...are you okay?"

"...okay is a pretty funny word. Lots of people use it when they are okay...and when they aren't. I've not made it a point to try and hide what I am; been a lot easier just to be blunt and upfront, and let the chips fall where they may." He couldn't rightly recall if that had actually worked out for him, in the long run.

"...you got upset because your mates were killed. That's nothing to be ashamed of," solemnly swore Lanz.

Triton chuckled. "Like I told ye kids before...I've learned a lot about death. But I've forgotten a lot about it, too. It almost makes me wonder if the me I used to be would even recognize the me I am now...which is a funny thing, isn't it? I'm a Moebius; I ain't supposed to change."

(Given everything that had happened with N and M, Noah and Mio both winced.)

"We've seen far too much to believe that," said Riku from up front.

"He's right," agreed Eunie with a stern nod. "Even if Moebius has tried to keep the world from changing...they can only do so much. And though most of the Moebius we've met have been right tossers...not all of 'em are."

Triton wordlessly hummed, wondering if she was right. "...with all the time in the world, I thought I could have it all. And here I am, losing more and more." Would he wake up one day, with no memory of the past? Would he be an effective blank slate? I wonder...if there's any point to me...

"You've left an impact on your Colony," said Noah, interrupting him from his thoughts. "And despite whatever it was that led you to become a Moebius...your choices have also led you to this: fighting alongside us, for the sake of creating a new world for everyone. And that...gives us hope, for someone very important to us."

(Under his breath, Lanz whispered, "Joran...")

"...ye got a silver tongue there, lad," remarked Triton, feeling oddly light at the thought. "It fits." Far better than N's ugly mug...wonder what he's up to, nowadays?

At that moment, Manana interrupted the proceedings. Holding up a thermos towards Triton, she exclaimed, "One fresh batch of soup, flavored with legendary miso!" With sparkling eyes, she said, "Manana always heard about how way to heart is through stomach-"

("Factually incorrect," said Taion, right before he got elbowed in the side by Eunie.)

"-and Manana think Triton heart need BIG pick-me-up! So feast, and enjoy!"

"...ye ain't half bad, little lady," he said with a smile, grabbing the thermos and twisting the cap off. The aroma was appetizing...and the savory aftertaste was to die for! Ah...brings back...memories. Sighing, Triton mulled over his circumstances. I still got me crew. I still got me fists. The future's still mine for the takin'. "That settles it!" he suddenly yelled, startling everyone. "When we get back to the City, we'll gather everyone from my Colony for a feast, to give ye a big send-off before ye continue yer journey...we'll make sure to share all the stories my lads and lasses have about..." Pausing for a moment, his mind tried to reach for the names. "...Astrid and Sonia! It'll be a blast, with a lot of laughs."

Ouroboros looked at each other with somber expressions before agreeing to do so without another word.

Huh...wonder why they looked sad, just now? Ah, I'll probably remember later...or not. Doesn't matter!

xxxx

Triton had seen so much...and forgotten even more.

Yet, his zeal for excitement, for adventure, and for the grand journey of life...that had not faded.

So long as he drew breath, he'd been an embodiment of life for everyone around him.

That was the potential of Moebius.

Oh, what could have been...oh, what could have been!

xxxx

Chapter Text

Amidst the introductions amongst the newest incarnation of Ouroboros...something did not quite sit right.

("I Manana. Manana was cookypon in Colony of Mio and others! Manana master of food: stews, baked goods, fry-ups..." With an almost conspiratorial tone, she added, "Can even cook up a mean Gonzalez eyeball!")

Ah; of course.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 2, during the trek through Eagus Wilderness, but before the Ambush by Colony 4/

/Lake Rezzento Camp, Eagus Wilderness, Fornis Region/

As everyone finished their supper for the evening, Lanz suddenly had a thought. "...you mentioned somethin' about a 'Gonzalez eyeball'."

"Meh-meh?" remarked Manana, midway through pouring the remainder of her soup into a thermos for later evening. Noah and Sena were calmly cleaning everyone's dishes, each one humming a little ditty to themselves.

"I mean, 'cause we fought that giant Aspar to get that eyeball for Riku's gem..."

(In the background, Eunie suddenly glared at Riku. "By the way, how does that work? How could a monster's eyeball go into making a gem?")

("Theory behind the practice would take several hours," firmly stated Riku. "Riku would be happy to explain.")

("...pass.")

("Meh?!")

"...and I suddenly remembered your introduction," finished Lanz. "Who the spark is Gonzalez? And how d'ya cook his snuffin' eyeball?"

"Ah! Manana happy to explain!" she cheered. "The greater the beastie, taste reaches unbelievable tastiness! So when Manana heard that eyeball of Immovable Gonzalez was for purchase, chance was jumped at with great gleefulness!" Grinning, she added, "Dabadaba at Gamma was supplier! Spared no expense."

"...I think Shillshill mentioned something about such a monster back at the old Ferronis Hulk," muttered Taion, his brow furrowing with confusion. "She said it was a Gogol."

"Indeedy! Gonzalez one of most legendary Gogols in all existence!"

"...Gogols only have two eyes. How often did you procure this 'Gonzalez eyeball'?"

"Many times, as many as Manana needed to perfect recipe!"

Taion and Mio shared a glance before the latter asked, "Manana...are you sure those were...'Gonzalez' eyeballs...?"

"Manana cannot be fooled!" she exclaimed. "Gogol eye of such size could only be from Gonzalez! Besides...Manana know that Gonzalez unlike any Gogol. Must have eyeballs for days!"

"...if you say so," said Lanz with some uncertainty, sharing some level of skepticism with Taion.

xxxx

Needless to say, Immovable Gonzalez only had two eyeballs.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 4, after completion of Juniper's Hero Quest, but prior to Mio and Noah's Flute Exchange/

/Near the Gogols' Tree, High Maktha Wildwood, Pentelas Region/



Manana stared with flabbergasted eyes. "No..."

Lanz whistled. "Now that's a chonker of a Gogol," he muttered, staring at the distant form of a massive blue ape with white fur, snoozing heavily amidst the trunk of a tree.

The peachy Nopon's eyes glittered with disbelief. "...but..."

"That Gogol appears to have two eyes," dryly remarked Taion.

"Of course," interjected Juniper, who was temporarily accompanying them until they were out of Tirkin territory. "The Tirkins don't really like Immovable Gonzalez's tribe of Gogols, but he's only a big Gogol; just don't wake him up and you'll be fine."

"...so Manana...was deceived?!"

Riku placed a conciliatory wing-hand on Manana's shoulder.

"...when next return to Gamma, Manana track down Dabadaba," she growled, eyes blazing with imaginary fire. "Made Manana believe wrongly! Gave false advertising at Colony! For crime against cuisine, Manana will have vengeance!" she screamed, causing nearby flocks of birds to scatter.

"...uh, I think you woke the giant Gogol," whispered Sena with wide eyes.

"...we should probably run," muttered Noah, only to wince as a monstrous roar echoed from the trunk.

"Make that definitely!" yelled Eunie as everyone turned on their heels and ran, trying to make distance between themselves and the suddenly agitated troop of primates.

xxxx

Of course, the natural question would be...why would anyone deceive Manana over something like a monster's ocular organ?

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 6, during Ouroboros's Treks with Triton, but prior to Unlocking the Cloudkeep/

/Colony Gamma, Aetia Region/

As Ouroboros handled the last of Commander Teach's requests for...well, teaching, Manana was a Nopon on a mission.

Triton, having nothing better to do, tagged along to watch the fireworks.

Riku came with to ensure no one broke anything.

Thus we come to the scene of Manana cornering a Nopon with creamy orange fur, between two supply containers underneath the great hulk of the Colony's Ferronis. "Manana demand explanation! Dabadaba owe answers!"

"Meh-meh," chirped the nervous Nopon, his wing-hands impulsively adjusting the flat white hat on his head. "Has Dabadaba done something to annoy cookypon?"

"Manana trusted you to provide quality ingredients for people of Colony!" she griped, hopping up and down with excitable anger. "Manana knew that sneakypon went outside Colony to meet with travelling Caravans; Manana said nothing because she knew it was best way to make best dishes with bestest things!"

"Meh..." Dabadaba nervously looked down. "So Manana knew..."

Riku shook his head. "Would be obvious conclusion. Nopon Caravans not welcome in Colonies under control of Flame Clock. It's why traderpons never set up shop until freed by Ouroboros."

"That so?" remarked Triton, tilting his head with intrigue. "Enterprising little scamps, aren't ye...?"

Dabadaba nervously looked at Triton before looking intently at Riku and Manana. "Is big man not Moebius? Is Dabadaba in trouble?"

Triton laughed. "Ha! Ye don't have to worry about trouble on my part, little squirt. But the lass? She's right angry with ye."

"Manana demand answer as to why you told her eyeball belonged to Gonzalez!" she demanded.

"After all, even Riku has heard of such a monster," the green Nopon gravely said. "Reputation of such monster would naturally draw curiosity to anyone claiming to sell body parts belonging to monster. But Nopon Caravan would eventually learn of such falsehood. So why risk it?"

"...meh," groaned Dabadaba, slumping over. "Not know what's like to smuggle pollen orbs into Colony under Moebius control. When crafty merchant able to provide great discount for pollen orbs, Dabadaba had to take it! Extra products was just part of deal! Could not refuse." The orange Nopon then added, "Besides, Dabadaba simply thought Gonzalez just had eyes for days."

Manana slumped over with disbelief. "Meh-meh..."

"What a strangely cutthroat world ye little guys inhabit," murmured the ancient Moebius. "Wonder if I've ever tangled with ye lot before...it sounds kind of thrillin'...!"

"Ignore Triton," admonished Riku, not removing eyes from Dabadaba. "This 'crafty merchant'. Who was it?"

Dabadaba frowned. "Not sure...he gave no name. But Dabadaba can tell you what he looked like!"

xxxx

Meanwhile...to the east of Aetia Region, and far north of the Cadensia Region...there was a continent-sized landmass that looked like a titan's head: one with deadened eyes, and a mountainous spire shaped like a horn.

At the tip of this horn, a green Nopon with a bushy pink mustache — no bigger than any other Nopon, yet possessing a bizarrely grandiose bearing — adjusted his monocle, which also served as his own personal data terminal. As he reviewed numerous statistics and information about the overall economy of the world (as well as the parts that had his fingers all over them), he grumbled. "Meh. Ouroboros proving to be big thorn in side. They're killing my share of black market! What those Moebius chumps doing?!"

Grumbling, he turned away from the great peak, staring at the numerous tiny Levnises that served as the means by which his numerous subordinates travelled throughout Aionios. Within the hollowed out mountain were countless warehouses, where his illicit wares were produced. "Meh, it not matter; Ouroboros come and go. Such is way of world. And even if they somehow do stop Moebius...then with our generations' worth of capital, the next world will be ripe for the taking!" Waddling down the hill towards a Nopon-sized hot spring, he basked in the attention from his various lady Nopon, and from the children who were viciously eager to earn his approval. "After all...First Rule of Making Money..."

xxxx

As Dabadaba finished his description, Riku's frown only grew more severe. "...of course it would be such a wretched cretin."

"Meh-meh?" asked Manana with a blink. "Riku know of vile fiend that dared to deceive Manana?"

"Indeed. Spoken of only in shadows by the Nopon Caravan. But thorn in side for all; were current circumstances not so dire, would focus more on stopping such wicked wickedness!"

Triton, crossing his arms, asked, "And who might this strange character be?"

With a grave tone, Riku answered, "Only the most dastardly supervillianpon of all Noponkind..."

xxxx

"...'Keep it in the Family'," finished Bana the XXIII — current head of the notorious Bana Family — as he took a bite from a Tasty Sausage. "Meh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!"

xxxx

Chapter Text

The Endless Now.

Some might wonder as to how many years it had persisted. How much time had transpired between the Intersection, and the unmaking of Aionios?

To ask such a question is to misunderstand the very nature of the world that Origin had unwittingly created.

Time, so to speak, did not retain its prior meaning: the realm of Aionios had been severed from that particular constraint, leaving it contained within a place that could not be breached from within or without. Or perhaps time itself had merely been frozen in place, allowing events to occur in the other dimensions without bringing about any change.

Was Aionios all there was? Did some form of existence continue on beyond its boundary? Could it even be said to have a boundary?

No one knew. As far as the souls within Origin were concerned — and therefore Moebius by extension — Aionios was all that existed.

Alas, their perspective was...limited by both design and circumstance.

One wonders what could have been, if their eyes had been opened to greater possibilities...

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Number of Years Prior to the Main Plot/

/The Amphitheater, Origin's Core/

The world of Aionios was neither young nor old, when the visitor came to Z's attention.

Slowly turning his head away from the canvas — depicting a battlefield glittering with red motes — Z looked at a strange amalgamation of crystals and light, floating serenely in an adjacent seat.

(Whatever was left of the AI, that Z had been born from, observed with detached intrigue; there were no inherent data tags linking this phenomenon to Origin. Even those who had been born outside of the cycle of rebirth that gripped Kevesi and Agnian soldiers...even they bore a trace link to Origin through their ancestors. But this? This was truly foreign.)

(The conflux of desire and emotion that comprised the rest of Z listened intently to the voices within Origin: screaming about how this thing was new, and therefore potentially interesting...yet those were drowned out by the greater mass hissing with fear at the mere sight of it, impulsively worrying that its presence meant the end of their pleasant purgatory. Did it mean they would finally have to face the unknown? To that, they said nay.)

"Strange visitor," he said, peering deeply into the crystalline manifold. "For what reason have you intruded upon the flow...?"

His gaze pierced into a realm in-between.



Through a realm of endless clouds, Z witnessed a timeless ruin: floating amidst the gaps, with clockwork engines and ancient stone. He idly noted that his colors bled through, yet did not cast light upon the surrounding expanse. Truly, this realm was separate from Origin in all its facets. "Who is this?" he asked, unwilling to suppress his natural volume (for could the fiery screams that had birthed him ever truly be considered 'quiet'?). "What brings you to this place?"

"Meh, what a truly fascinating existence..."

Z's eyes turned downward, taking in a yellow Nopon with crimson eyes. "A Nopon," he observed. "You are the source of this realm?"

"Indeed! Through countless years beyond all comprehension, full of training and meditation...this one became the sagiest of sages: the Nopon Archsage, at your service!"

"Why have you come here, you who does not belong to the flow?" As much as such a determination galled him, Z could not but state the truth: this being wasn't even capable of being trapped by the flow whatsoever. Even if the damnably bizarre Nopon seemed resistant to the flow as a whole...this particular specimen floated above it entirely. "For what purpose are you standing here, before me?"

"Archsage has visited untold times and places, with treasure and trinkets for those who have partaken of my trials."

"And you think I would have use for your trials?"

"Meh, not for you!" protested the red-eyed Nopon. "Would uproot the canon, make things nonsensical. Prolonged exposure to Archsage would also likely reduce your 'supervillainpon-ness', and that be very, very bad! How then would plot go according to the Grand Design?"

What nonsense was this creature spouting? "I will ask again: why have you come here?"

"It simple matter of courtesy! Archsage never set up shop without permissions: would be rude! Would also get Archsage kicked out of The Club, since that's one of the rules." Shuffling in place, the Archsage added, "Was much the same in precursor of worlds! Zanzapon not care for Archsage setting up shop on knee; so long as it made Shulky-pon stronger! And Titan of Uraya liked the feeling my portal gave on her spine; she was old Titan, often complained of aches."

Those terms elicited a strange impulse of bewilderment. Echoes of memories flickered by, of the worlds which had once been, and no longer were. "Zanza. Uraya. You speak of those entities with familiarity. From where do you hail?"

"Speaking of origins would also be breaking rule of The Club. Would be inconvenient, since Archsage was also founder of The Club. Would then need to find Zohar to open The Club's front door again, and that would be awful inconvenient for Archsage. Would be equivalent to five million fetch quests!"

"...do you seek to interfere with our world?"

"Meh, you not understand much. Mucky-mucking with world not in Archsage's contract. Will only return once the Main Characters appear; Archsage's trials are for them, and them alone!"

"...so long as that is the case, then your terms are acceptable. I would ask that you leave."

The Archsage huffed. "Such joyless jerkypon! No wonder fans hate you." Turning away, the Archsage remarked, "See you when the plot begin!"

With a sudden snap — like an ethernet cable being pulled out of a modem — Z's perceptions once more returned to Origin. The crystals were gone. "...how curious," he murmured, leaning back in his chair; Y would likely have been intrigued by the creature's presence.

Even so, its existence was anchored beyond the world; it was not within the domain of Moebius, and thus it had to be cast aside.

The immense uncertainty that 'Archsage' had carried with it...was frightening.

Aionios was safer. Aionios was, in a sense, Certainty Itself.

There was comfort to be had in that, however wretched it was.

xxxx

Thus, time passed...

xxxx

/Time: Right before the Battle at Everblight Plain between Colony 9 and Colony Sigma/

/The Amphitheater, Origin's Core/



Z was alone, when the crystalline manifold made its reappearance.

As though expecting its presence, he peered into its boundless expanse; as before, the Nopon Archsage was there, amidst the floating ruins. His fur was a lighter color than before, but the Nopon still exuded that same unnatural power. "You have returned," he burned.

"Meh, was here less than two hundred words ago! After all this time, jerkypon hasn't changed. No sense of perspective! No sense of looking outside of uncomfortably large box that's also shaped like a giant ball while also being an admittedly cool giant robot!"

The Archsage's voice was slightly different this time, as well. No matter. Pointedly ignoring the ramifications of the Archsage's words, Z said, "Your presence must mean that your 'Main Characters' will soon be able to partake of your trials."

"Ah, indeed! Archsage would fling them through elaborate yet entertaining scenarios! In this place, it be like time have no meaning; they be able to fight to their hearts' content!"

What a curiously similar idea. "It is strange: you, who does not belong to the flow, nonetheless have chosen to create an eternal moment of your own. If that is your desire, then why would you not seek to perpetuate the Endless Now of the entire world?"

The Archsage looked at him as though he were an idiot. "Archsage trials can last forever, yes? But only until Main Characters get bored. Or until player put game down. It lasts forever...but only for a little while."

A 'forever' which lasted for 'a little while'? That was a contradiction in terms! "You are nonsensical, Archsage." Z truly could not fathom what this creature referred to. "Tell me: why is it that the Nopon refuse to become part of the flow? What makes them so resistant to its call?"

"Mascot Species Privileges," it seamlessly answered. "If you not understand, then no point in Archsage explaining any further."

Z didn't know what to make of that.

"Anyhow, Archsage made courtesy call as required. We will not be meeting again; hope you enjoy watching tutorial battle. Ta ta!"

And just like that, Z was once more within the theater: just himself, the events being played out, and the voices within and without his head. "It is curious, is it not, o ye voices?" he said aloud. "That your desired world is in fact the ideal creation of such a unique creature. It gains pleasure from such...even if in a limited fashion, it would seem." Alas, it was not Z's place to wonder about the motivations of the Nopon Archsage. The creature's designs would not interfere with those of Moebius...and it would be left alone. "If a creature of such power can be pacified by an Endless Now of its own design...then are you not the same? Are we not ourselves seeking entertainment, to make the tedium of existence enjoyable?" There was a murmuring echo from the rafters, quivering with agreement. "And so it shall be as before: let us now watch the passage of fate unfold, as we always have...and always will, forevermore."

Thus did Z lean back, unknowingly watching some of the Archsage's vaunted 'Main Characters' engage in battle upon the blighted plain.

xxxx

Chapter Text

The City had dedicated themselves to defeating Moebius for the longest time.

After the passage of many years, their ideas on how to do so had varied. Some advocated more direct action; others wanted to continue their hit-and-run tactics, stealing the cradles that provided the lives that Moebius fed on; a rather sizeable contingent wanted to withdraw from the wider world, hiding away to live life in peace without getting involved in the eternal war between Keves and Agnus; and so on and so forth.

However, every single person had labored on with the belief that their world, flawed as it was, would go on. They had all believed that their world would continue to exist; after carving out their life in the City through many generations' worth of blood, sweat, and tears...it was only reasonable.

Ghondor Vandham had been no exception.

("I'm fed up with hearing that sanctimonious Ardun crap," Ghondor said with a fierce conviction towards Ouroboros. "If you're trying to kill the now, then you can just forget it.")

Though she had warmed up to Ouroboros during their brief time in prison, her fire had not been quenched with regards to why she fought.

(As Noah demanded an answer to her words, she obliged: "Set the world to rights, you said...Not sure if you're just being self-righteous, but take a look around! Think about how many lives it's cost, running after that shit already!")

Despite her bellicose demeanor, Ghondor — as the head Ouroboros candidate of the current generation — had been more sensitive than most as to the costs of their war against Moebius. Her brief stay in Li Garte Prison, seeing how many of her brethren had been condemned to a life of slavery and eventual execution, had only solidified her sentiments...to an extent.

("Not. One. Friggin'. Thing." In the face of Taion's disbelief, she added, "If we just stay put here, and the Cityfolk keep a low profile, no one has to die for smalnuts." Though they brought up her impending execution, she was undeterred. "So? It'll be ten people, if that. They've got over a thousand locked up in here. It'll barely register...I'm saying if you stir shit like Bitchqueen wants, you'll have a thousand lives on your conscience!")

That, alas, had been but a falsehood, designed to get under Ouroboros's skin, to see what they were truly made of. Agnus Castle wouldn't execute all of their free labor, especially when the lives of the Cityfolk couldn't even contribute to the Castle's Flame Clock. However...another part of her 'spiel', as she had put it, had been more from the heart.

(As Ouroboros considered the possibility of actually being responsible for a thousand deaths, she plunged the rhetorical dagger. "And also...you're gonna set the world to rights?" Pointing at their lifespan markers one by one, she finally walked up towards Mio. "And then there's the kitten...little more than a month left? You must be the most eager of the lot." In the face of Noah's anger, she merely scoffed. "Just shut up about the world already. All this holier-than-thou crap...you're only doing it for yourselves! You just fight out of self-pity, flailing around thinking you can make a difference!")

It had gotten under their skins enough to elicit a reaction. Mio had passionately pled their case: Ouroboros — with all the power they had at their disposal — would move forward, to bring about a new day for their world...where the "now" would be protected, while ensuring that the future would be all the brighter.

Ghondor, putting her faith in the words delivered to her by Consul M, gave the Cloudkeep's Key to Noah.

Alas...Ouroboros did not yet know just what defeating Moebius would mean.

If they defeated Z...Aionios would end by necessity.

One can only imagine, how Ghondor reacted when she found out.

Let's move the hands of the frozen clock to a familiar scene...

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, during Nia's Travels with Ouroboros; after Shania's Attack on the City, but before the First Invasion of Origin/

/Michiba Canteen, The City/

From a window seat, Nia and Mio were watching the shenanigans between Lanz and Sena with rapt interest. "Do...you have any idea why Lanz covered his head with blue paint?" wondered Mio, watching as a suddenly blue-haired Lanz tried to stop Wellwell from hassling him about the money to pay for the paint. (Sena, it must be said, had all but cutely collapsed from laughter.)

"Oh, I haven't the foggiest," mused Nia with a strange yet knowing smile, her eyes focused on Sena in particular.

Mio's ears twitched out of curiosity. "Is...something wrong?"

"Oh no, not at all. I'm just...reminded of someone I know, that's all. Maybe I'll tell you later." The Queen suddenly frowned, looking a tad dour.

"Nia?"

"...'later'," she repeated. "It's hard to know if there'll ever be one." Looking solemnly at her, Nia said, "I need to speak with Monica Vandham about...what will happen, if we defeat Z."

Mio frowned, wondering what she could have been referring to...

("When this battle is over, the stationary worlds will move once again. When the worlds were divided, they knew nothing of each other. In the end, they'll be strangers once again...perfectly ignorant, as will we." The melancholy in Nia's tone matched their mood. Even so, after Mio's and everyone else's encouragement, Nia was mollified. Even hopeful. "That future...I'll share it with you," said Nia, placing her hand atop Mio's. "It's not just yours...it's our future we'll invest in. For that, we need this world to end.")

...and that's when she realized it. "Oh." That...was something they needed to discuss with the government of the City, didn't they? Along with their allies in the Colonies. "That...might not be a pleasant conversation," she diplomatically said, activating her Iris to send a message to her comrades.

"Yet it's one that must be had," murmured Nia.

xxxx

There had been little time to think about the aftermath of Nia's revelation, within the Great Sword's Cavity: Ouroboros's proximity to the material storage warehouse had been providential, as Monica had requested their aid in assisting Ghondor with retrieving its contents.

Alas, after completing this task, they had gotten word of a Moebius attack on the City itself: an attack led by none other than a reborn Shania.

That tragic tale has been told.

Needless to say, Nia's healing expertise had been a great boon in the aftermath, and many in the City had hailed her long-awaited return.

That joy and adulation would be sorely tested.

xxxx



As Elder, Monica Vandham was the first person that Nia chose to spoke to. The woman had gladly agreed, requesting that Travis — her second-in-command — be present as a witness.

Ghondor, who had been in the War Room at the time to discuss the fallout from Shania's failed incursion, had vociferously insisted on being a part of the proceedings, given how M had 'trusted the bloody key to the Cloudkeep' to her.

Nia had not protested, merely smiling nostalgically at the girl's blunt words.

Thus, two generations of Vandhams and a put-upon assistant listened as Nia explained the truth of Aionios to them: how it had been born from a cataclysm involving the collision of two worlds; how Origin — protected by the Ocean Vortex — had failed in its intended task, creating a world in stasis; how Moebius, emerging in the immediate aftermath of the Intersection, had laid claim upon Origin; how, after numerous back-and-forth campaigns, Queen Melia had been captured by Z, putting all of Origin's systems and the souls within under Moebius's control; and, most importantly...what defeating Z would mean.

Monica and Travis had listened with slowly dawning horror, realizing with terrifying clarity that accomplishing their goal — the defeat of Moebius, the City's raison d'être — would necessarily result in the end of Aionios: freed of Z's control, Origin would autonomously complete its work, splitting the world back into its component halves. All that they had known...would cease to be.

Ghondor took a different tack; she got angrier.

"...and there's no way to avoid it?" asked Travis with a nervous voice.

Nia shook her head. "As far as I'm aware, Aionios came about because Origin was halted in its tracks. Once freed of Moebius...nothing can stop it from completing what it was designed to do." Looking warily towards Monica, she added, "This knowledge...was well known, amongst everyone in the early days of this world. Queen Melia, if she were free, would say the same."

"...it's possible that this information was lost, when Moebius N razed the first City," Monica admitted with a weary expression. "But...with the passage of generations, we've even lost a lot of knowledge about our Founders. That something so important would be forgotten...it doesn't surprise me."

"Begging your pardon ma'am," countered Travis, "but I think knowledge about how the flippin' world will end if we beat the baddies is a mite more important than knowing who the Seventh Founder was-!"

SLAM.

An angry fist dented the metal rim of the central console; Ghondor, downright sneering, glared daggers at Ouroboros. "Was it a lie?"

"Say what?" wondered Lanz, his hair still looking a faded blue; washing it off in a restroom sink had not been so successful.

"All that talk in the prison. About not 'killing the now'. And you were so convincing," she growled, looking downright hateful. "Was it a lie, you filthy shitbags?!"

"Ghondor!" hissed Monica. "That is enough."

"...we didn't know at the time," soberly admitted Noah.

"We only recently found out about it ourselves," said Taion, sounding intentionally stoic about the matter. "...just before the mission to recover supplies at the warehouse atop the Great Sword, in fact. I don't think it's going too far to say we haven't completely processed it ourselves."

Ghondor huffed. "Well, ain't that bloody convenient...so it's all for nothing, is that it? What a joke!" Scowling, she stormed away, leaving the War Room in a fit of anger.

"GHONDOR!" roared Monica, to no avail. "...damn it."

Sena raised her hand. "I can go after her! Just to...you know, make sure she doesn't break anything."

"I'll go with you as well, Sena," said Mio, looking quietly at Nia and Noah before following the fiery girl deeper into the underground complex.

Monica, inhaling deeply, quietly looked at the Queen. "Your Majesty...would you mind addressing the Senate? Our people...need to come to a decision about how to handle this."

"Um...you sure that's a good idea, love?" asked Eunie with a curious tone.

"I must say," added Taion, "that there are likely a great many people who would not take kindly to the idea of Aionios coming to an end. I'd wager some might be willing to let Moebius live if it meant this world would keep on going."

"What the spark, Taion? You can't be serious!" exclaimed an incredulous Lanz.

Travis sighed, shaking his head. "Kid's got a point. A revelation like this...not everyone will be willing to go along with it."

"...then that's the way it'll have to be," admitted Monica, staring tiredly at the floor. "The future...everyone deserves to have a say in how it comes about. To hide this, for fear of a bad outcome? It'd be nothing less than a betrayal of their ability to make a choice about what to do. So we'll speak to the Senate. What they do with this information...we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Nia found it in herself to smile, despite the foreboding reality of what they had discussed. "But of course. So long as Noah and his friends don't mind playing bodyguard?"

"You expect something to happen?" asked Noah, even as Lanz, Taion, and Eunie bristled.

"Well...when it comes to delivering unwelcome news to important people, things can become explosive," admitted Nia with a nervous chuckle.

xxxx

Nia's testimony before the Senate of the City would be a tale for another time.

Our focus is on a more intimate conversation.

xxxx

Sena heard the sound of punching first: of fists striking against leather.

Turning a corner at a four-way hallway, she came upon a sliding doorway. Nervously, she called out "Ghondor, I'm coming in" before sliding it open with her hand.

Within a small room — no bigger than some of the tents she recalled sleeping in as a third-termer — was some old furniture, a ratty old cot, and a large punching bag that had been taped and patched many times over. Right now, it was the object of Ghondor's frustrations, as she smashed it repeatedly with her bare fists.

She didn't quite know what to say; instead, she gingerly stepped into the room, looking around with curiosity. There were also some photographs on an old dresser with chipped paint: one of a preteen Ghondor sitting on top of the shoulders of Aggy and Oggy; one of a childish Ghondor flexing her biceps alongside Guernica Vandham and another man who looked Monica's age; one of Guernica Vandham by himself, sitting on a park bench; one of Ghondor in a more conventional Lost Numbers uniform, standing at attention alongside Jansen and the other Ouroboros candidates; one of Ghondor and Shania as young children, clambering on one of the trees in Virid Park; lastly, there was a picture that had been turned over on its face. Slowly, she flipped it up: it was a picture of a much younger Ghondor, sitting in the lap of Monica, with another man — the same man in the biceps photo, a man who looked strangely like Jansen — standing behind them. Was this...Ghondor's 'father'...?

"You like havin' a peep at other people's things?"

Sena yelped, whirling around to face Ghondor; the room seemed all too silent, now that she had stopped striking the bag. "Oh!" she exclaimed, holding the photo as though she had been caught in the act of theft. "Um, I mean, well...we were worried. And I saw the pictures, so I was curious..." Eager to change the subject, Sena asked, "Is this...where you grew up?"

Ghondor, lips curled into a scowl, simply plopped down onto her cot. "We have our own place. But with how often Bitchqueen and the old man were here, I claimed an old storage room for myself. After I started training to be an Ouroboros candidate, I spent more time here than in my own house."

Sena nervously sat down beside Ghondor, watching anxiously as the girl's foot bounced up and down on the floor. Mio lingered by the door, quietly watching them both in silence. "...we really didn't know, back then. About what defeating Moebius would mean," Sena quietly said.



Ghondor stewed in silence, eyes flickering towards the photos. After several moments, she remarked, "It wasn't easy...being a Vandham. All the gifts and talents in the world don't mean jack if you don't have the right attitude. Even having my Uncle on the team was just another thing to look out for. But...I was making it work. I was getting stronger. I was making him proud." Traitorously, her gaze fell upon the picture in Sena's hands. "...but...I guess it don't matter."

"Ghondor-" protested Sena, only to be immediately cut off.

"We Cityfolk...we've got all sorts of ideas, 'bout what happens to us after we die. 'Cause we don't have the benefit of coming back like you Keves and Agnus dags do." Resting her hands on her knees, Ghondor continued, "Some say that after death, you get paradise if you did all right for yourself. If you were a shitheel...well, what you get ain't paradise, that's for sure. Some people say there's just...nothing at all. Others think that, so long as the dead are remembered, they still keep existing, in some way...while others think we've got our own cycle of rebirth, 'cept we don't come back the same."

"Huh..."

"...personally, I was always a fan of the last one. Probably 'cause of an old kids' story I was told as a tyke. 'Was about ageless warriors who fought to protect people, and the giants they lived on. Even though those warriors would die...they'd come back over and over, always as a new person, always seeing something new." As if quoting an old work, she closed her eyes and recited, "People die; worlds die; but the warrior lives through it all: an eternal witness."

(In another place, and another time, words spoken long ago echoed through the ether, heard by none, yet witnessed by an everlasting memory: "Drivers dyin', Titans dyin'...the Blade just keeps on livin' through it all...it's a never-ending cycle. An eternal history.")

Opening her eyes, Ghondor solemnly remarked, "Even if she sucked at it, she was a warrior like the rest of us...even if that's not where her talents were, she still tried. S'why I thought she'd have another chance, you know? That things would be better for her, whenever she comes 'round again..."

Sena grimaced, knowing who Ghondor was speaking of.

(Staring at the memorial where Shania's name had been freshly etched, Sena wondered if Shania had smiled at the end. Ghondor, with quiet conviction, said, "Next time 'round...she'll be fine.")

"...but I guess I was just lyin' too," bitterly growled Ghondor. "If it's all going to end if we win...then what the hell have we been fighting for? I fought to protect a lot of dags, drongos, and ankle biters in my life...and they all believed me, because I'm a Vandham. But if that's all gonna end...then what does any of it mean?" Baring her teeth, Ghondor emitted anger to crowd out the existential dread. "If I was wrong about that...then maybe I was wrong about Shania. Maybe she didn't get the message, even though everyone else did! And if I was wrong about even that, then what the hell else have I screwed up?" Grabbing at her pigtails, Ghondor roared, "PISS!"

Sena watched quietly, feeling the anger boiling off of the pugnacious girl like steam. "Ghondor..." There was movement in the corner of her eye; she looked towards Mio, who was quietly sitting down on Ghondor's other side. "Mimi...?"

"This body of mine...it used to be M's," she said, drawing Ghondor's attention. "It's strange, to have memories that aren't your own: to see so much that you haven't lived through." Looking down at her hands, Mio continued, "Even though you've lived longer than I have, Ghondor...I have memories of untold years. And there's so much..."

"What of it?" growled Ghondor. "You'd better have a point."

"N and M...they used to be Noah and Mio. And in one life...they left behind a son." Gazing at the photo of Guernica, Mio said, "From that son...came two children. One of those children was a man who called himself Vandham."

Sena looked at Mio with wide eyes, whilst Ghondor seemed incredulous. "Wow...that's unbelievable, Mimi..." Pumping her fists, Sena suddenly asked, "Wait, does that make you like, Ghondor's...great-great-great-great-grandmother, or something?"

"There's a lot more 'greats' involved, Sena...but yes, in a manner of speaking."

"So what? You wanna get involved with this whole screwed up family? Wanna try and fit in? What's the bloody point?" spat Ghondor.



Mio shook her head. "A connection like that...I wouldn't presume anything, even though we're linked by blood. But just to know that a choice made by N and M, so long ago...a choice to leave a life behind, knowing they would never live to see it bloom...that choice resulted in a lineage that spans untold generations. A lineage that led to Guernica, to Monica, and you, Ghondor." Smiling sadly, Mio looked at the girl with wizened eyes, looking much older despite the fact that Ghondor had lived longer than 'this' Mio had. "To me, it's proof that even if the future is uncertain...even if seems that no tomorrow is possible...we can still live on. I think there's comfort to be had in that."

Ghondor didn't respond. Not immediately. "These two 'worlds'...any idea what they're like? Any idea what's going to become of us?"

Mio shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think even Queen Nia does, to be honest...there are so many unknowns. But that's life, isn't it? To choose between the 'now' that you know...or to choose an unknown future, in the hopes that it'll be better."

"A hell of choice," growled Ghondor, even though her anger had seemingly subsided. Naturally, it was at the moment that Sena impulsively hugged Ghondor from the side. "The hell are you doing?"

"You looked like you needed one. Mimi and Miyabi have always said I give a good hug," Sena said with forced cheer. "It's okay to be upset, Ghondor. It's not like you have to appear strong for our sakes."

Ghondor, tellingly, didn't try to shrug her off. "That ain't the point, you damn dags," she muttered.

"Do you mind if I comb your hair, then?" asked Mio, pulling out a familiar and well-worn tool. "Just to get rid of some knots."

Ghondor said nothing, affirming Mio by her silence. She simply sat there, existing within Sena's embrace and Mio's gentle ministrations.

xxxx

For the first time in years, Ghondor felt like a child.

xxxx

Later that evening, once the emergency session of the Senate had concluded, Monica returned to her family home. To say she was more tired than she had been in a long time would be putting it mildly. We still have forces to mobilize against Origin, she thought, trying to maintain her conviction. It's better than nothing.

She recognized that the lights were on before she entered the front door; walking inside, she saw Ghondor sitting at the dinner table, eating a warmed up bowl of leftover 'Monicurry'. "..."

"Sure took ya long enough," growled Ghondor between bites. "Was wondering when those old fogeys would finally let you go."

"There was...a lot to talk about." That had been putting it mildly.

"And? Were there any idiots who decided they were gonna side with Moebius, or somethin'?"

"Fortunately, no." Moebius had taken too much from the City over the years for that to be a possibility. Yet, committing all of their resources to defeating Moebius had been...subject to reconsideration, in light of what would happen upon Z's defeat. "But we are putting in some new contingencies, in the event something goes wrong."

"Hmm," murmured Ghondor, chowing down at the last bit of meat and rice. "...crazy shit."

"Mind your tongue," impulsively remarked Monica. "...but yes. It's crazy." The fact Ghondor didn't fight back at her attempt at being 'motherly' spoke volumes about how rattled the girl was. "Did you talk with Sena and Mio?"

"Yeah. For a bit. You had all gone to the Senate by the time we finished...so I just went on a walk by meself. To think."

"...I understand why you would," she distantly said.

"There's all sorts of stuff to get in order while Ouroboros is waiting for Samon to upgrade his ship...and hell, those little Tirkins at the Castle are gonna need an explanation...right? Do birdbrains need an explanation about the end of the world?"

"I honestly wouldn't know."

After what seemed to be whole minutes of silence, Ghondor finally spoke with naught but a whisper. "...mother...is it gonna be alright? Are...are we gonna be alright?"

Every ingrained habit in Monica wanted her to respond as a commander to their subordinate: that there were no guarantees in this world; that success against Moebius wasn't assured; that it wasn't certain that they would even have a place in the worlds to come, even though Nia had assured the Senate otherwise. There was just no way of knowing what tomorrow would bring.

But...those habits quailed in the face of an intense emotion: one that Monica had not had a chance to indulge in much, since becoming the Elder. For once, Ghondor needed not a commanding officer...but a mother. "Of course we will," she said with a tired smile. "It'll be okay, baby girl."

At those words, Ghondor finally allowed herself to cry; crumbling upon herself, she sobbed into Monica's bosom, letting down walls that had been erected for so very long.

In the privacy of their home, a mother feared for her daughter's future; a daughter reached for her mother's protection; as one, they both wept their anxieties away.

Come the 'morrow, they would move forward with renewed purpose.

xxxx

And thus it was so, when the end of Aionios came.

(As Noah wavered over the final decision, about whether it was even right for them to choose the fate of the world...Ghondor provided a reminder. "Oh, don't you start minding us now." As the others looked at her and Monica with trepidation, she spoke with an uncertain yet determined confidence. "Just having the chance to be born in that world you make...that'll be plenty. So, you know...ya just gotta do it your way." Getting in one last cheeky shot, she turned towards her mother. "Uh, though if I can...I might want a better name, eh.")

Even if the future was unknown, the mere chance of making it better was preferable, to the wretched monotony guaranteed by Moebius.

That was the conclusion that Ghondor had come to.

However, she would never forget the good things about the 'now'...so she swore to carry those on with her.

Thus, she stood upon the threshold of two worlds, waiting to see which side she would fall on.

She would face the sunrise, head-on.

xxxx

Chapter Text

I was asked elsewhere as to when I would be posting my take on the actual main story of Xenoblade 3, as if this were all leading into a revision of the canon game.

My answers were as follows—

Short version: This short story collection is meant to be compliant with the canonical game as presented (for the most part).

Long version (spoilers lie ahead for numerous parts of the game, but y'all should know this by now): Basically, every single short story and ficlet I've written for this collection is meant to be as canon-compliant as possible, and are usually done with the intent of explaining something in the story that was otherwise unexplained, or to showcase events that wouldn't break the plot. I try to avoid 'head-canoning' as much as possible.

For example: why did Consul M choose Ghondor of all people to give the Cloudkeep's Key to?

My answer: M chose Ghondor because she was a Vandham, a descendant of her grandson from many generations past; thus, there is a sentimental and familial connection. (Even if it's 'technically' a headcanon, the statue of House Vandham's founder is observed in the game as having physical similarities to Noah; in like manner, the founder of House Doyle is strongly, if not explicitly, implied to have been the Vandham founder's sister. Hence, it's implied that Houses Doyle and Vandham are of a past Noah and Mio's bloodline.)

Another example: why did Ghondor change her mind regarding 'killing the now' between Li Garte Prison and the ending cutscenes of XC3?

My answer: make up a cutscene that would still portray the themes of the story as presented, while still explaining Ghondor's apparent change of heart.

Another example: why are there apparently two Swords of Origin (the one that N has, and the other held by Noah)?

My answer: N's was the original, forged with the assistance of Melia herself. Lucky Seven was forged in secret many generations later, intended to be a replica of that mighty Blade.

Another example: after a certain point, the idea of 'fast travel' just wouldn't make any sense. So given the time constraints Ouroboros is operating under, how would they make it back to the Pentelas, Fornis, and lower Aetia Regions to complete the quests that only become available as of Chapter 5 and onwards?

My answer: have Triton be their means of fast travel, using his ability as a Moebius to warp places.

And so on and so forth.

Some are a bit cracky (like the 28th installment, which was written solely to explain why the obligatory Nopon named Bana was nowhere to be seen in the game; my answer being that generations of Bana Nopon have operated off of the Bionis's horn, controlling the black market far away from the battlefields of Aionios), but each one could feasibly be inserted into the game and nothing would change.

The only exceptions are the bits with Nia and Melia; for gameplay reasons, their quests are post-game only, as the surprise of them fighting alongside you during the final boss would have been spoiled. However, narratively, these quests had to have taken place before Ouroboros defeated Z. Thus, my changes were as follows:

- For Nia: simply have her accompany Ouroboros after she's woken up, as they travel the world to collect the particular Origin shards needed to upgrade Samon's ship. Naturally, they do quests and events along the way, eventually returning Nia to Agnus Castle before commencing their first invasion of Origin.

- For Melia: as portrayed in the 10th installment, instead of instantly teleporting away like she did in the game, she collapses due to ether depletion after her long imprisonment (in an intentional echo to how Shulk and Company found her in the first game). Deprived of any options, Ouroboros decides to retreat aboard a City Levnis (because realistically, Ouroboros wouldn't otherwise be leaving Origin upon entering it; 'fast travel' exists solely for gameplay purposes, because no way they're getting Samon's ship back out of there!) to bring Melia back to Keves Castle. (Origin, naturally, stops attacking, because Z and Moebius are interested in seeing how Melia reacts to the world she's been away from for so long.) From there, they would do Melia's various quests, along with any other final quests left undone; after which, Ouroboros commences the second (and final) assault on Origin, wherein they fight X, Y, and Z sequentially.

As such, the (rough) timeline of events would be as follows:

Given what's implied in the game, there's an unknown period of time where — after Aionios is created, and an indeterminate amount of people are awoken outside of Origin — Nia and Melia are operating against Moebius, after which Melia is captured by Z (thus allowing Moebius to manipulate the world according to their own designs, thanks to the control her Key gives them over Origin). It's implied that Nia is actually awake and operating in some fashion (for how long is unknown, but it was at least long enough for the first City to come into being at Hope's Rest before it was destroyed by N) before going to sleep in the Cloudkeep, because she doesn't do so until Consul M exists as an entity (and we know there are at least some prior instances of Mio that existed before M did). This aggregate amount of time between Z's capture of Melia and the beginning of the game is definitely longer than a thousand years, though; because the false Nia, at the end of chapter 5, remarks about she's had 999 souls sent up to her over the past thousand years by the off-seers. However, we know from details in Noah's Side Story and Ashera's Ascension Quest that the Homecoming event prior to the Off-Seer Ceremony was a simple execution, so the existence of the false queens stems back even further.

It goes without saying that a lot of the installments released have flashbacks which cover events that occurred during this nebulous period prior to the main plot.

Chapters 1 through 5 more or less occur as normal, with the exception being that Ouroboros can't really leave Cadensia Region during Chapter 5 due to the time limit Mio has with her impending Homecoming; as such, any side quests and Ascension Quests in prior regions that only become available as of Chapter 5 are left untouched for the time being. Certain installments occur in this period without much in the way of interrupting the plot, since they occur in the gaps between quests and plot events.

After Chapter 6 begins, some quests local to Agnus Castle and Cadensia are completed prior to Ouroboros heading to Colony Omega, where they free Miyabi, Mwamba, Hackt, Cammuravi, and the other soldiers resurrected by Moebius Y. Since they accompany Cammuravi back to the City (wherein smol!Ethel wakes up), the reality of having so many calls for assistance weighs on them; as such, the events of the 21st installment occur, where Triton is chosen as the means by which Ouroboros can fast travel. They complete lots of side quests over a few weeks before returning to Colony Omega...wherein, before heading to the Cloudkeep, they get ambushed by Segiri. Cue more quests (including the final scene from the 27th installment, wherein I used the four 'Unique Monster' Agnian assassins that show up where Colony 15's Ferronis is as an actual bit of a drama bait for Triton, since it's implied those four killed two of Triton's crew) before they finally get to the Cloudkeep, where the ending of Chapter 6 proceeds as normal.

With the beginning of Chapter 7, and the realization that Ouroboros needs to locate specific Origin shards to complete the ship upgrades they need to breach the Ocean Vortex, Nia accompanies them on their 'world tour' instead of hanging back at the Cloudkeep. Numerous quests occur during this timeframe (like Ghondor's Ascension Quest, Sena's Side Story, and some of the other quests that only become available as of chapter 7), along with some events I've conjured up in the interim (like the most recent installment). Ouroboros invades Origin, rescues Melia, completes the remainder of the quests (complete with other events I've made up, like the final scene of the 9th installment, where Eunie gifts Taion a kit to clean his glasses with), then finally invades Origin a second time to complete the main story.

(Naturally, there's more to come that will be interspersed all over the place.)

And voila!

Hope this explained things. :)

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 5, after Gray's Ascension Quest, but before Ouroboros sneaks into Li Garte Prison/

/The City, Atop the Great Sword, Cadensia Region/

Rozana, for such a gregarious woman, was a strangely private individual.

As such, Monica couldn't quite fault herself for not realizing that Rozana was married; she had no familial connection to the Six Houses, so her love life (and likewise Gray's) would have lacked the public notoriety of someone's from Rhodes, Ortiz, Vandham, and so forth.

Still...Monica couldn't help but feel a bit hurt, that Rozana hadn't talked to her about it.

As such — with Broo, Yarmil, and the other hardliners having been temporarily incarcerated until their punishment could be determined by the Senate (because not even Garrett was going to defend someone who had conspired to steal the City's entire stock of Levnises as part of a military coup...well, maybe he might have, had they not been caught beforehand. The leader of House Doyle was a stubborn yet complex individual) — Monica decided to satisfy her own curiosity.



Rozana was outside the War Room, staring out at the great expanse around the Great Sword's hilt; her focus seemed to be on the old husks lying below: corpses from a battle that had occurred long before they were born. "You sure like to surprise people, Rozana."

The redhead turned her crimson gaze towards Monica, her eyes giving off a twinkle of amusement. "You knew I'd been working to stop the hardliners by getting within their circle. You were there when your father signed off on this secret mission, after all."

"Not what I was talking about," retorted Monica, crossing her arms.

Rozana's smile turned into a small frown. "...this is about Gray, isn't it?"

"The fact you got married was...surprising."

Rozana huffed, resting her right elbow in her left palm so she could rest her chin on her right hand. "It's not like we kept it a secret. Some of my neighbors knew, if only because they asked about why Gray came to my place every so often."

Monica huffed right back at her. "It's the fact you didn't tell me that's the issue."

"You never asked," she glibly replied. "I suppose it just...never came up."

"...he was probably my father's closest friend, growing up." Even though Gray hadn't been a member of that generation's Ouroboros candidates (for whatever that had been worth; the City had been going on a dry spell of decades since the last Stone had been found, until her father had discovered the most recent one), the lone gunman had somehow established a connection with her old man that Guernica hadn't had with his fellow candidates. Hell, there had been a brief stretch where she had called the man 'Uncle Gray' growing up. "It's a little strange to see him in a relationship with one of my friends."

Rozana seemed amused. "Oh? Are you a fuddy-duddy in matters of romance? Perhaps you and the conservatives have more in common than I thought."

Monica blew off the riff with a scoff. "You can't exactly blame me, can you? He's got...what, three decades on you?"

"That'd be right." Rozana turned away, looking back at the ancient battlefield with a stoic expression. "If it helps, I'm the one who pursued him; he's a rather hard nut to crack. But...in the end, we're rather similar on the most important thing."

"And that would be?"

"A sense of purpose: to know what has to be done, no matter what it costs you as an individual...and commit to it. It's why he can stomach being by himself, even for months at a time."

And why you could calmly betray those you spent five years getting to know, it went unsaid.

(On that day, over five years ago, when the matter of the hardliners' increasing aggression had become too pressing to ignore, Guernica had wondered as to why Rozana volunteered to undertake a secret mission to infiltrate them...especially in light of her many friends amongst the conservatives' ranks. Her answer had engraved itself in Monica's memory: "I'm an engineer. I hate seeing things go to waste, whether it be materials...or people. Those hotheads have passion, and are driven to do what they think is right...even if it tears the City in two. It's just so...inefficient.")

It was strange, realizing in retrospect, that — in spite of her relative youth — Rozana could be just as ruthless as Gray...albeit in different ways. "...it's still odd, thinking of Gray as being romantically involved with anyone."

Rozana honestly seemed shocked. "Really? I'm surprised you never noticed; he's been a friend of your family for long enough."

"He certainly never indicated it one way or the other," she replied with a half shrug.

"...well, I guess that's just one other area where he and I are alike," murmured Rozana with a fond smile.

"That being?"

"Saying a lot without speaking anything at all."

Monica wondered at just what it was that Gray said without speaking; was it Rozana's insight as an engineer that allowed her to decipher him? Or was it something simpler than that? Maybe I'm just too focused on the big picture to see what's right in front of me...

xxxx

The very next day, when Gray was debriefing with Monica in the War Room about another matter...she decided to ask him. "So. You and Rozana, hm?"

"Hmm," Gray affirmed with a grunt.

"...you never told me."

"You never asked," he blithely replied.

"I bet you told my father, though."

Gray crossed his arms before calmly replying, "Guernica was my witness."

Monica threw up her hands. "Glad to know that my father didn't tell me about one of my friends getting married to the man I called 'Uncle' as a little girl."

Gray huffed, his eyes staring intently at her; a sign that he was gathering his words. "Guernica...was never one to engage in gossip himself. 'Plenty enough to go around as is without me adding to it,' he'd say."

"...true enough," relented Monica. "...well, even if I'm apparently years late to finding out...congratulations."

Gray looked at her as though she were being an idiot. "Our...relationship...is plain as day."

"Your definition of 'plain as day' is very different from mine."

"Hrmm...no wonder you haven't seen how he looks at you," he murmured.

xxxx

Meanwhile, aboard the Boundary — churning onward through Erythia Sea, carrying Ouroboros and Ghondor's fellow Candidates — Jansen suddenly sneezed.

"Ugh, you got your mess on my wings!" cried Eunie with dismay.

"Sorry," he sincerely apologized, gratefully accepting a tissue from Taion.

xxxx

"What was that?" asked Monica, not catching his words.

Gray simply grunted. "Just remember to keep your eyes open. Otherwise, you'll get caught off guard by something you should've seen coming."

"...I'll keep that in mind," said Monica with a curious expression.

xxxx

(Weeks later, as Monica received Jansen's incredibly unexpected confession of love whilst on Corne Island, the image of Rozana chuckling and Gray shaking his head inexplicably came to mind.)

xxxx

Chapter Text

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/Colony 4, Eagus Wilderness, Fornis Wilderness/



The sandstorm fit Colony 4's overall mood: dim, and choked.

Fitting, for a Colony without a commander.

xxxx

It had been mere hours after the climactic battle in Engardo Pass...not that Bolearis had known.

He had only just made the long trek on foot through the Maktha Wildwood; only after passing by Colony Lambda and making it to the Urayan mountains had he felt safe enough to call for a Levnis from Colony 4.

It was whilst in mid-air, sitting within the fuselage, that he had received a message on his Iris: one from none other than Noah, quiet and subdued.

Somehow...he had known. He'd had a feeling, when Ethel had commanded him to return to Colony 4, that he would not be seeing her again. Even so...it had hurt.

(Noah had been contrite; even hurt, having to tell the awful truth, that Ethel and Cammuravi had killed each other with their final blows. He was even more apologetic, that he wasn't able to tell them in the person. "It's fair enough," he had said, trying to console the dark-haired swordsman. "You lot have that Annihilator to wreck, don't you? We'll...hold down the fort, until you can come pay your respects in person." It had gone without saying that, if Ouroboros failed, Colony 4 would be destroyed before they could ever return to debrief him about Ethel's last stand.)

Bolearis's mood had been impossible to ignore; the pilot had only looked at him with a concerned eye, as his expression curdled into something akin to grief.

Upon disembarking at Colony 4...it hadn't taken long for the truth to come out.

xxxx

That had been about half a month ago; alas, Colony 4 had not had much time to themselves to even mourn.

The sandstorm season had hit earlier than normal, gumming up their Ferronis and their Levnises; their days had been spent cleaning dust and grit out of the machinery, ensuring the ether filters were clean, and things of that nature. It was as if the world itself had come to a crawl, keeping them from thinking about the loss of their beloved Silvercoat.

(The only bright spot had been both figurative and literal; from far beyond the Urayan Mountains, a small part of the horizon had briefly shined as brilliantly as the sun. Cut off from Keves Castle as they were, it was only thanks to the Nopon Caravan that they found out about the Annihilator's destruction.)

Without the proverbial guillotine hanging over their head, the sense of anxiety had faded...leaving only the dull monotony of grief.

(Even reaching out to Ethel's old sister-in-arms, Orsolya, had been unsuccessful...and he had no idea why. Was it because Colony 5's Flame Clock was still active? Whatever the reason...it made his sense of isolation grow.)

Hence why his current 'visitor' was so...unwelcome.

"Come now..." remarked the Consul, his cape's collar lined with fur. "...you seem rather unhappy with my presence," remarked the man who had introduced himself as 'D'.

Bolearis, uncertain as to what the man's presence signified, sighed with trepidation. He didn't come in through our front door; he just teleported into my...Ethel's...office. While I'm alone, with no one around. (The thought of being killed almost seemed like a relief. Almost. It would have at least ended this bout of feeling like a useless mudder.) "Not trying to be rude, sir. It's just that...well, things went a tad topsy the last time a Consul visited our Colony."

"Ah. K. That sorry sod," scoffed D, crossing his arms. "Relied too much on his mastery of your Flame Clock. Made him a bit too one-dimensional, too unwilling to embrace the moment in its fullness...what irony, am I right?"

"...you seem remarkably candid about our circumstances, Consul," remarked Bolearis. There was a strange tension in the air, as though he were just a hair's width away from losing his head. "Was Ethel's sterling service not enough?"

D actually laughed. "You wouldn't be saying that if you actually knew how her last fight finally went down. P and O sure didn't appreciate it...I could feel their anger through the ether. Personally? I think Ethel and Cammuravi's final moments were a thing of beauty. Especially on the big screen."

"The...big screen?" Bolearis confusedly repeated.

"A Moebius inside joke," he slyly said, the tassels on the end of his helm's horns dangling with each movement. "I'm the kind of guy who savors the moment where life reaches its peak...that sole, transcendent, moment. K never understood that...was too busy trying to string things along, making his games last to the point where the fun's just gone. Would you believe he actually had his own personal soldier dedicated to painting, of all things? As though mere colors on a canvas could ever match the sheer intensity of life at its sweetest."

"...I suppose so," quietly said Bolearis. "If you don't mind my asking...why exactly are you here?"

D chuckled, his eyes taking on a certain gleam: mirthful, yet menacing. "Well, you 'liberated' Colonies have been having quite a lark, trying to live lightly, without fighting each other," he joked, as though the whole proposition was funny. "Honestly, I'm tempted to just let you all play around for a while...what's the harm, when it's all about to come crashing down?"



Bolearis frowned; the mood had suddenly turned. "How do you mean?"

"Your Ouroboros pals? They've been captured by Agnus Castle. When the Eclipse comes about, in a few weeks from now? They're all gonna be executed. And this little 'rebellion'...will come to a sputtering halt."

...it can't be. (Ethel had thrown her lot in with them. They couldn't be that close to losing it all, could they?!) "You're bluffing," he impulsively said.

D cackled with glee. "Ah, you're starting to feel the despair, aren't you? That's the ultimate reality of this world: the Colonies are Moebius's to do with as we please. It's not the first time Ouroboros got it in their heads to liberate some Colonies and try to 'free the world'...and what did they accomplish? Nothing. Every time Ouroboros has reared its head, Moebius inevitably stomped them down...through the weight of our boot, or the sheer inevitability of time: as everlasting as the Flame Clock itself." Leaning in close, D glared into his eyes, pinning him in place with a look. "So keep doing whatever it is you maggots have been doing. Your squirming will eventually get boring, and someone will come along to cut you down...or maybe you'll let slip the fact to your mates that Ouroboros got captured? Maybe you lot will get some sparks lit under your arses, and try something gloriously stupid. Doesn't matter to me...either way, your Colony's doomed. But I'll let you be the one to decide how it'll die."

"...you snuffin' bastard," snarled Bolearis, trying not to scream at just how bloody unfair it all was.

D huffed, looking at his clenched fists, and then at his face...until, with a sigh, he backed away. "Not your best look. Guess that's what I get for trying to catch lightning in a bottle...oh, but before I go." D leered at him, looking terribly amused. "Ethel and Orsolya...they were close comrades, weren't they? So close, that their Colonies even shared the same rank...at least, until you lot got kicked into the mud. As for Colony 5...well, they ain't Silver anymore..."

Bolearis blinked; was that why he hadn't heard from her? "Did Orsolya and her men...get knocked down to Dirt...?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. There's no fun in laying everything out...so what'll it be? Look into saving Ouroboros? Look into Orsolya? Or just wallow in this wretched dump and die in misery? Either way's fine with me," said D, turning away with a derisive scoff. "After all, I've seen sacks of shit with more pep than you've got." With that last bit of mockery, he warped away.

Bolearis just stood there, waiting to see if D would come back and actually finish him off.

One minute. Two minutes. Three. Four. Finally, after five minutes, he slumped back down into the seat that had once been Ethel's, feeling way too small for the chair and the role. Equipment getting all gummed up by the sand...Noah and the others, being executed...can't get into contact with Orsolya...and Colony 4's apparently on Moebius's chopping block, no matter what we do...eh? Spark me...

He could never recall ever feeling so overwhelmed in the days of the Flame Clock, even after days of nonstop fighting; the utter exhaustion of constant battle at least had possessed the catharsis of bloody motes recharging his inner flame. Now? Now...he just felt tired...old...and alone. Commander Ethel...I'm trying to carry on...but what would you do, when everything's so snuffed up...?

(The answer would not come for a while.)

With no answer forthcoming, Bolearis simply buried his head into his hands, wondering if the stress of it all would ever end.

xxxx

D strolled through the nearby desert with a grin. Ah...what a lovely look that peon had, he mused, feeling at least somewhat mollified. A poor consolation prize...still can't believe that stoic bastard L won the lots to cull Colony 5. Another Gold-ranked Colony, ripe for plucking. Oh well...there'll always be time for another go. A shame, that he was a Kevesi Consul for the next few generations; he would have liked to have been present to watch Ouroboros bite the big one. (The fact that N had pulled rank to serve as Keves's representative for the execution? That was just icing on the whole snuffin' cake.)

How fortunate that he was in the area nearby his...collection. The boost to his mood was just what the doctor ordered.

With the waxing moon hovering in the sky, D strolled through the desolate wastes, winding through an old and forgotten canyon; as the sight of an old Ferronis Hulk loomed, its doors opened because of his mere presence. He ignored the nearest cylinders — each one carrying a preserved head — and looked for one in particular. "...ah. There you are." Grinning madly, D stared at the decapitated head: mouth wide with terror, eyes seemingly frozen with fright. "You've got much better expressions...I wonder if you can be pushed to give a better one?" Perhaps another project to look into, once the matter of the winged bitch and her fellow Ouroboros mongrels were put to bed. "We'll see..."

The head — belonging to a Bolearis from another time long past — said nothing.

"...yes, we will see," hissed D with glee.

xxxx

D would be sorely disappointed, for more than one reason. But the story of his comeuppance has already been told.

Instead...one must wonder, how Bolearis got out of his little hole.

Suffice to say, he wasn't alone.

xxxx

It was a few days after that chance encounter — with no headway made with the matters concerning either Ouroboros or Orsolya — when Bolearis got an Iris message from an unexpected individual. "Commander Zeon?"

"I hope circumstances find you well, Lieutenant Bolearis," diplomatically said Zeon.

"...eh, could be better, could be worse." Trying to maintain his composure, he asked, "How can I help you?"

"Given that Colony 30 is your nearest Kevesi neighbor, I was hoping if I could trouble you to get a connection between me and their Commander."

"With Commander Valdi? Whatever for?"

Zeon, looking uncharastically nervous, simply said, "Well...let's just say that I've received an intriguing proposition about how to help some mutual acquaintances of ours..."

"...I'm listenin'."

xxxx