This work is a piece of historical fiction. While inspired by real events, cultures, and practices in human history, the story blends factual history with fictional characters, dramatizations, and creative interpretation.
It is not intended to promote, glorify, or encourage any illegal activities, substance use, or harmful behavior. All depictions of sensitive topics are included solely for narrative and historical context.
Reader discretion is advised.
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The Void
In the place of no causality and no space, as such not a place, at a time of no consequence or occurrence where everything happened all at once and not at all, as such not a period, where absence finds solitude and where scarcity fears, Aragorn in his draconic form moved The Void around him while Phoenix sat comfortably atop his head.
'We are close,' Aragorn informed his passenger.
'My temporal perception is naught but useless in here, but even I can tell that since the last time you said we were close to now, at least a few centuries of thought have passed,' Phoenix said. 'So is this that type of 'close' or are we really about to arrive?'
'Hey, it's not my fault,' Aragorn said defensively. 'Void-chan pulled a prank on me and when we were close, she switched the DxD multiverse to another location.'
'How is that not your fault?' Phoenix reproached. 'Blaming the whole of your entity is the same as blaming yourself.'
'... There's some logical truth to your words, but we don't do logic here,' Aragorn shook his head, Phoenix with it. 'I am to Void-chan, not Void-chan to me, so technically I can very well blame Void-chan.'
'... Yeah... right,' Phoenix gave up on the futile discussion.
'But this time is real,' Aragorn said. 'It will come up in a few mental seconds.'
{A/N: How they determine time is by counting in their minds. A faster mind shall experience 'mental time' faster than a slow one because its thoughts' speed is greater. But for the sake of storytelling, we shall say that all multiversal beings think at similar speeds. So one mental second is of the same value to Aragorn as it is to Phoenix.}
As Aragorn had promised, a few seconds later a Multiverse unlike the ones they had previously seen came into view in the vacuity of the absent landscape.
'Did it come to be after the collision of two Multiverses?' Phoenix asked.
What they were seeing, in an abstract way unable to be processed by lesser minds, was as if two clay spheres had collided at low speed and the resulting mass became one—a plastic collision—joined by the point of impact. Additionally, at this point of collision, it was as if part of The Void had bled in before the crash and ended up trapped there.
'I'm not clear about that, Void-chan's explanation is still being processed,' Aragorn replied.
'You said you visited this place before. Was it this particular one or a variation of it?' Phoenix asked.
'This one, but it was a very long time ago from the perspective of the local time,' Aragorn said.
'So the time flow here is far faster than in our Multiverse?' Phoenix asked.
All time flows across Multiverses were synchronized to an extent, meaning that all time flows could be expressed in relation to one another. However, time flow and experienced time were not the same, and the local rules of time could relatively speed up or slow down the passage of time.
{A/N: Mathematically speaking, you could say that all time flows could be expressed with a simple linear algebraic expression, or in simple terms, you can simply assume time may flow faster or slower in some Multiverses as per the convenience of the author XD.}
'Yes, but since my main self is in the past of a parallel Earth, we don't have much to worry about. We have a few millennia to spare,' Aragorn said.
'And what was so interesting about this place?' Phoenix asked.
'Aside from the cosmological geometry of this Multiverse, the jiggling physics and logic that resemble those of that Hentai Multiverse, and the fact that there are dragons and fluffs in here, there are these Sacred Gear thingies that I think you will find interesting,' Aragorn explained.
'Oh? What about them?' Phoenix asked.
'They store souls or shards of beings and then, based on my assumptions, link them to the souls of hosts. These hosts get to "safely" extract some of the original souls' power,' Aragorn said while sharing his memories of Sacred Gears. 'I think you, with your penchant for creating Hosts with your shards, could come to benefit from studying these Sacred Gears.'
'That indeed calls to my curiosity,' she said. 'And you? What's your main objective?'
'Aside from plain old tourism and trying out my third eye, this trip was meant to help me master my concept,' Aragorn replied. 'I found a system in Tensura, so that's an additional benefit, and there are some interesting species here in DxD that I wanted to probe.'
'I see,' Phoenix absent-mindedly replied. 'What's the story of this place?'
'I don't know much, just facts,' Aragorn said.
'What? Again?' Phoenix asked. She hated venturing in without info. For a being who always knew, this was nothing short of taking control away from a control freak.
'Hey, don't blame me!' Aragorn quipped. 'I was a human. I didn't have infinite time and a super mind like I do now. I barely had time to keep up with Marvel—you're very welcome, by the way—and I hated watching videos at normal speed, so I used to 2x them and then get distracted, and so it was normal that I lost a bunch of "filler" details.'
'That's just a terrible excuse,' Phoenix mercilessly said.
'Hey, but don't fret!' Aragorn exclaimed. 'This world is under-leveled, and I may not remember the plot, but this was just an ecchi world. As far as I know, the most terrible thing that could happen was NTR in these types of anime.'
'You know better than anyone that the "story" of a world isn't its representation,' Phoenix scolded.
'Well, you do have a point, but it's not like we are here as rightful heroes to steer this world into a path of rainbows and gummy bears, are we?' Aragorn asked.
'... No,' Phoenix replied.
'Hence, we don't have to even involve ourselves in a stupid ecchi high school anime plot, do we?' Aragorn asked.
'I had enough of the concept of fornication in that sex-themed Multiverse. I don't want to be anywhere near that,' Phoenix spat with disgust.
'Right, so as far as I know, this is going to be an in-and-out, 20-minute adventure,' Aragorn said.
'... Ok, fine. It is not important to know the plot for this Multiverse's story, I admit,' Phoenix relented.
'Thank you very much,' Aragorn nodded. Phoenix, seated on his head, went up and down with the motion. 'Let's first locate my acquaintances!'
'Didn't you say you had little to no thinking capability when you met them?' Phoenix asked.
'It still counts, right?' Aragorn said while gazing at the place where The Void bled into the union of the Multiverses.
'Barely, I guess.' Phoenix focused on the spot Aragorn was observing.
Soon enough, Aragorn enveloped both of them in his concept and stratified them into the Dimensional Gap.
The Dimensional Gap could be described as a realm that took the chaotic phase of The Void and, after excluding matter, kept its chaotic energy—appearance-wise, that is. Otherwise, a Multiverse as under-leveled as DxD wouldn't be able to survive The Void's energy pollution.
So when Phoenix and Aragorn materialized inside the Dimensional Gap, Phoenix's first thought was to study it, since Aragorn said it resembled the chaotic phase she couldn't normally see.
"It feels similar to Chthon's Chaos Realm but less demonic," Phoenix commented. "It also has some aspects of the nothingness."
"I wonder where Ophis and Great Red are," Aragorn mused out loud. His form shimmered for an instant, and then he was covered in eyes.
"Where did you meet them last time?" Phoenix asked.
"Last time I didn't step inside, so I met them at the border, around the point of the Multiversal Barrier that covers this dimension," Aragorn said. "But well..."
"Well, what?" Phoenix asked.
"I seem to remember that my arrival interrupted a fight between them," Aragorn revealed. "They might be fighting somewhere else, or maybe they went their separate ways."
On cue with his words, the Dimensional Gap shook, and a red dragon about 100 meters (~109 yards) long appeared not far from them.
ROOOOOOAAAR
Its roar carried the meaning of his words, just like how conceptual speech does for Aragorn.
Its roar made the Dimensional Gap churn like boiling water.
Its roar was felt by the sensible supernaturals across the three worlds (Earth, Heaven, and the Underworld) directly connected to the Dimensional Gap.
"...Is this dragon a delinquent?" Phoenix asked after a second of speechlessness.
"Well... I don't know," Aragorn sheepishly replied. "Anyway, you heard Great Red—do you want to fight him, or should I do it?"
"The dragon is your friend and, as such, is your responsibility to go and play with him," Phoenix readily sidestepped the challenge issued by Great Red.
"I suppose it shall help me grasp how much power I can exert in this self," Aragorn muttered before his draconic body appeared in front of the giant red dragon.
ROOOOOOOOAAAAAR Aragorn greeted Great Red back with the same ebullient roar.
It was a declaration filled with battle intent, polite greetings, agreement to the requested battle, joy, bloodlust, and many other emotions that were clearly understood and matched by Great Red.
Aragorn's forelimb rested prone in invisible steps. Great Red manifested his power over dreams and cloaked himself with it. Aragorn did the same with his void energy, and faster than it was comprehensible, both lunged at each other.
Just as their maws of the apocalypse were about to clash, a black-haired loli appeared floating next to Phoenix.
"...Ophis, I presume," Phoenix said. She had seen this entity in Aragorn's memory, and the infinite oceans of infinite power that she could sense from her confirmed this.
"I, am Oroborus. You?" Ophis asked, her voice about as muted in emotions as Aragorn's is when speaking to humans.
"Phoenix. I'm the caretaker of Aragorn," Phoenix said, one of her fiery wings pointing at Aragorn—and just at that moment—
BOOOOOOMCRAAAAACK
—both battle maniac dragons clashed, and the Dimensional Gap exploded and cracked.
Phoenix and Ophis, as if it were second nature, raised a hand and injected their energy into reinforcing the Dimensional Gap. This was not the usual result of beings of similar power to Great Red and Aragorn clashing.
This came about because Aragorn's void energy was of a higher caliber than that of the Dimensional Gap, and its clashing with Great Red did nothing but exacerbate the already trying situation.
"It's like Rubidium and water," Phoenix repeated something she had heard numerous times from Aragorn.
"...?" Ophis gazed at Phoenix, her confusion written all over her face, yet remaining impassive.
"It means that something was made worse by the nature of its parts," Phoenix explained like a teacher to a school student.
"..." Ophis nodded as passively as her nature allowed her to.
With Ophis and Phoenix fueling the Dimensional Gap to keep it in one piece, Great Red and Aragorn resumed their clash—not that they had shown much hesitation to continue.
Great Red appeared behind Aragorn and sank his fangs into the back of his neck. Aragorn's body shifted unnaturally, and his neck elongated and serpented around Great Red's own neck. His maw found its quarry on the underside of Great Red's neck.
Great Red's forelimbs' claws ripped through Aragorn's neck to remove his bite. Aragorn pulled back, but not before dragging the length of his tail's blade alongside Great Red's torso.
As soon as they separated, their previously apparent lethal wounds rewound as if time had reversed. Then they went at it again.
"Aragorn mentioned you liked sweets," Phoenix commented.
Phoenix's interest in the fight didn't go beyond the analytical—Great Red's power intrigued her—but aside from that, she knew Aragorn was playing around, and Great Red was not that different. It was like watching friends playfight.
"I, also like bananas," Ophis said. There was a barely noticeable glint in her droopy eyes.
"I have these I picked up in one of the previous Multiverses we visited," Phoenix said. She opened her hand, and a tray carrying assorted sweet desserts appeared. She lowered her floating level to Ophis so that the dragon loli could easily reach for her treats.
When Ophis parted the desserts' magical protections—what was keeping the nothingness of the Dimensional Gap from spoiling the treats—and the sweet and alluring scent of the sugary treats reached her, her eyes unmistakably lit up.
She picked a sponge cake with a colorful covering of raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries, and with a slow, deliberate, and almost worshipful movement, brought it to her small mouth and took a bite.
She closed her eyes with delight, savoring the taste as the finite blessing that it was.
"Aragorn knows how to bake these. You can ask him for more," Phoenix said.
Phoenix was not one to follow human conventions such as bringing a present when visiting someone's home for the first time, but during this journey through The Void—after experiencing so many of Aragorn's memories through Jean Grey, and after visiting so many different worlds—she learned how to at least start with a positive impression.
In the distance, contrary to the harmonious scene of the loli dragon and redheaded woman with fiery wings sharing sweets, Aragorn transformed into a winding eastern dragon and serpented his way around Great Red.
Great Red replied with his claws and maw, even using his horn to pierce through Aragorn's anacondian body. Aragorn did his best to constrict like a boa around Great Red, and in the most mythological and epic reenactment of Anaconda vs Crocodile, Titanoboa vs Acherontisuchus guajiraensis, and now Aragorn vs Great Red, he curled around and sank his maw once more into his neck.
(The Acherontisuchus guajiraensis is just cocadrile from old.)
Both colossal titans radiated waves and waves of lethal energy. One attempted to conceptually pull and influence dreams, and the other tried its best to turn everything into nothing.
The bundle of snake, dragon, limbs, horns, fangs, claws, and scales thrashed around as if in a deadly catfight of apocalyptic proportions.
"Aragorn said you were in a sort of confrontational setting with him," Phoenix said, carrying the conversation by herself since she had noticed the laconic nature of her conversation partner.
"I, want my silence. Great Red is noisy," Ophis replied.
"...I see." No, Phoenix didn't understand.
While in her eyes Great Red appeared as a boisterous dragon, she couldn't understand the relation between that and their fight.
'Were they simply fighting over keeping silence?' Phoenix wondered.
"...Can you help me?" Ophis asked, her eyes staring with an intensity that belied her outwardly taciturn expression.
"Ummm, what do I get in return?" Phoenix was not interested in fighting Great Red just as she had arrived at DxD, but according to Aragorn, Ophis and Great Red were the equivalent of the owners and protectors of this Multiverse. So, if it was to get in the good graces of one of the said protectors, then why not?
"Snake?" Ophis's power flowed out to the hand extended towards Phoenix and condensed into the shape of a shadowy snake.
Phoenix reached for the snake with her hand and inspected it with curiosity. "Is this concept materialization?"
"It is," Ophis replied.
"Mmmm, it's quite interesting," Phoenix confessed. Ophis' snake was to Phoenix as if she had materialized a portion of one of her concepts; as if she had materialized a portion of [Rebirth], which was absurd. Yet, Phoenix couldn't help but ask, "but what am I supposed to do with it?"
"Consume it for more power," Ophis replied while tilting her head as if she had spoken something logical.
"... No, why would I do that? Aragorn had to stratify me to enter your world. If I consume this and grow stronger beyond a point... I don't think any of us want that," Phoenix said.
"..." Ophis looked dejectedly at her snake and reabsorbed it.
"How about this, I'm interested in Sacred Gears. If you can help me get access to holders, I'll go join that brawl," Phoenix suggested.
"I can do that," Ophis readily agreed. She was the figurehead of an organization harboring numerous Sacred Gear holders, so it was easy.
"Then let's join that brawl," Phoenix said.
Her form caught cosmic fire, and she went from a Jean Grey with fiery wings to a full-blown Phoenix.
Ophis felt like this time she had a real chance to end Great Red, and so she shapeshifted into a long ouroboros black dragon. This was not something that could be called her true form; in fact, she only assumed this form because she found Aragorn's eastern-style dragon form pleasing. However, as the shapeshifter that she was, Ophis couldn't be said to have a true form.
Like so, the Phoenix and the Ouroboros launched themselves at impossible speed to gang up on Great Red.
'Hoh~ Looks like you're about to get the JJK treatment, Great Red,' Aragorn said.
GROOOOOOOWL Great Red's growl came loaded with meaning that in summary could be translated to: Truce? How about we show them the real power of dragons/men to those gals?
Aragorn, as the agent of chaos that he sometimes was, said, 'Yeah, sure, let's make this a 2v2.'
And so, without giving it much thought, Aragorn uncoiled from Great Red—both their wounds disappearing almost instantly—and then stood beside him as they poised themselves to defend from the upcoming charge.
And an infinitesimal instant later—
BOOOOOOOOOM
—Phoenix and Ophis crashed with Aragorn and Great Red respectively, and the Dimensional Gap bloated like an overinflated balloon. This time, Aragorn and Great Red were also redirecting some of their power to keep the dimension from exploding and swallowing the three worlds.
Phoenix's cosmic fire-wreathed form shone bright like a supernova, the cosmic flames engulfing Aragorn like a tsunami wave. Aragorn grew countless maws all over his scaly form and then void breaths exploded; he was covered with so many maws that he mimicked Phoenix's flaming form but in a bluish-white flame.
Both supernovae, one bluish-white and the other of a warm palette, exploded and clashed with one another.
Great Red and Ophis had a more bodily clash, yet it was equally terrifying. Ophis' serpentine form coiled around Great Red, and in response, Great Red dreamt of being covered in horns. Like a porcupine, his horns sank bloodily into Ophis' flesh, yet she kept trying to strangle him.
Soon the result of Phoenix's and Aragorn's clash engulfed them, and in response, Ophis began to irradiate her power of infinite like a protective aura. Great Red used his dreams to deflect the flames toward Ophis and then, for good measure, added his own draconic breath to the mix.
Phoenix flooded the dimension with her psionic energy and used it to psionically snap shut Great Red's maw. Aragorn's eternal flame contracted to a zero-dimensional point before appearing near Ophis and exploding into a large white sphere—so white that it looked as if the creator had erased that part of the Dimensional Gap.
Ophis channeled her infinite around her with even greater intensity in response, and the [Infinite] pushed back and negated the erasure. Then her power formed into a massive amorphous blob that turned out to be composed of an infinite number of snakes. The snakes exploded forward and began to eat everything around them. Energy, matter, time, space, dreams, flames—everything was being consumed by the infinite number of snakes.
Aragorn copied Phoenix and flooded the Dimensional Gap with his psionic energy in response, except that instead of wielding it, he fed it to the incoming snake avalanche. The snakes halted their progress as they began to consume the unending psionic energy. It turned into a question of which infinite was bigger.
Great Red didn't doubt that Ophis, the Infinite Dragon, would come out on top, so he used his concept to [Dream] another Aragorn. A dragon similar in appearance and nature to Aragorn appeared above him—had this been someone else, a perfect copy would have appeared—and then another, and another.
When countless dreamt Aragorns had appeared, they all began to flood the snakes with Great Red's version of Aragorn's psionic energy.
Phoenix did not stay her hand, and her flames mounted in reinforcement to Ophis. Her cosmic fire began to burn Aragorn's and Great Red's defensive/offensive maneuvers.
Where the Cosmic Flames, Infinite Snakes, Psionic Energy, and Dreams clashed, a distortion appeared in the form of a singularity—except this singularity was not shelled by a black hole. It was a singularity exposed to the reality of the Dimensional Gap, and, like in any other reality—bar special cases—this crashed its logical construct.
A singularity, the core of a black hole, could never be exposed because all singularities exist in the future. Yet it was happening here.
The singularity exploded and imploded at the same time—simultaneously in the past, present, and future—and with infinite and no force at all. It was a paradox, and like most realities, a paradox was the bane of their existence.
"Oh... no," Ophis said, reticent as always.
GROWL Great Red growled in agreement.
"Aragorn! Do something!" Phoenix shouted.
Aragorn stopped messing around and appeared instantaneously atop the paradox. His concept enveloped the malign paradox in a conceptual cocoon, and then his maw opened wide before swallowing it whole.
The Dimensional Gap settled down as if everything had been an illusion, and under the astonished eyes of the onlookers, Aragorn's draconic body began to bloat.
"I'll be back," he said with his telekinesis before disappearing to The Void.
"..." Ophis' and Great Red's previous hostility was replaced with silence.
"I think we should put on pause our little game," Phoenix said.
"Is... he alright?" Ophis asked.
"Yeah, that guy can't die in any form or shape," Phoenix said dismissively.
Growl Great Red said.
"Soon, he'll be back in any moment now," Phoenix said.
True to her words, Aragorn returned. This time, he was in his humanoid male form.
"That was possibly my fault. I think my energy mixed with my concept, and that facilitated the birth of a paradox fed by your contributions," Aragorn explained.
Even though he said that, the two locals didn't find it in themselves to blame him.
With a grumbling roar, Great Red disappeared to another section of the Dimensional Gap.
"He seemed to be in a good mood, all things considered," Aragorn said. "Hey, Ophis, wanna house us for some time?"
Ophis considered Aragorn's words for a moment, but given that she had already promised Phoenix assistance with Sacred Gears, she saw no problem in agreeing. However, remembering Phoenix's previous question in response to her request, she asked, "What do I gain?"
"Mmmm," Aragorn pondered for a moment. "How about I build for you a small pocket dimension where you can rest in peace and silence?"
"Yes!" With far more emotion than anyone had ever seen Ophis show, she resoundingly agreed.
Aragorn and Phoenix followed Ophis after she teleported away, and calm returned to the Dimensional Gap. Shortly after, crest magic circles materialized, and a redheaded devil along with a magical girl appeared.
"Ne, ne, Sirzechs-chan," the magical girl said in an upbeat tone. "What the fuck was that?" Her tone was no longer upbeat.
"..." The Maou was silent for a moment, his senses evaluating the lingering effects of the clash in the Dimensional Gap. "I don't know."
They had been in the Underworld, and even from that far away, the absurd discharge of magical energy was overwhelmingly felt—despite the Dimensional Gap being reinforced by Ophis, Aragorn, Phoenix, and Great Red.
"It was probably felt even on Earth and in Heaven, right?" Serafall asked.
"Undoubtedly, Serafall," Sirzechs replied. Following his words, not far from them, a magic circle shone bright, and a fallen angel appeared.
"..." The new arrival scanned his surroundings before his eyes landed on the Maous. "I'll assume you're here for the same reason as me, so let's not fight, alright?"
"Azazel, do you think anyone will have the heart for a fight after that display of absurdity?" Sirzechs asked.
"Someone does come to mind, but I suppose neither of us is afflicted with the battle maniac disease," Azazel said as he flew closer to the Maous.
Instead of enemies, they acted more like acquaintances.
"Any idea who was responsible for this, Azazel?" Serafall asked.
"Obviously, Great Red and the Infinite Dragon were involved, but Grigori has no record of the signature of the other energies," Azazel spoke with uncanny seriousness. "I don't even think some of the signatures our devices detected were magic."
"This is concerning," Sirzechs said.
"Yeah? You don't say," Azazel scoffed.
"Was it the birth of another supreme existence like the Dragon Gods?" Serafall asked.
The two men had no answer—no, they had many possible answers, but none they were brave enough to utter for fear of making them real.
While the devils and the fallen angel boiled over what to make of the disaster left by the friendly spar of the calamities incarnates, Aragorn and Ophis were locked in a staring contest.
"..." The deadpan loli dragon was an expert at this game.
"..." The eldritch slime shaped like a dragon had hacks to deny the need for blinking.
And Phoenix... she couldn't help but ask herself if the combined maturity of these two even added up to that of a child.
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Null-Time Zone.
~504 BE (Before Emergence) ~ 1519 CE (Current Era).
It started with the sway of a shadow. It grew unnaturally in size, obliterating light, much like a black hole. And in this shadow, an eye blinked open. The eye, with a calmness that felt practiced to the instinctual level, observed its surroundings.
Office utilities, rugged floors, checkered floors, desks, chairs, office sofas, and all other objects that could be found in an impersonal cubicle farm. The eye, in an analytical fashion, tracked and made note of all of this.
The shadow that nested the eye soon moved at its command. It stretched to the nearest shadow, and this one began to grow and darken just as the former one had done. The eye then switched to this shadow.
This action was repeated a few more times before the eye spotted the first sign of life.
"These reports were needed yesterday in Room CY-98. Go and get a courier to take them along these reset TemPads. These all go to CY-98, is that clear?"
"Yes, boss!"
"Good, and hurry up. Don't linger more than needed. Marcus from block Z-755 told me that the higher-ups haven't been in a good mood ever since The Fiasgo."
"Got it, boss!"
The eye registered all of this and then latched onto the shadow of the moving employee. The employee, none the wiser, carried the eye to a courier. The eye jumped shadows to the courier, and this one brought it to Room CY-98. Along the way, whenever they met another TVA agent, the eye would simply blink closed and disappear into the shadow.
From Room CY-98, it followed another path of shadows, and about an hour later, it found itself in a remote area of the Null-Time Zone. Something akin to an archives room.
The eye stayed there, silently observing, making sure the room was as desolate as it appeared at first sight, and when it was convinced of that much, the shadow exited the two-dimensional realm and gained height.
As if the umbra had been liquefied, the ink-like shadow grew tall and wide enough to create a black sphere, not unlike a black hole. And from this hole, a Noctelvi squad marched out in absolute silence.
Not their steps, not their armor, not their hair, not their movement, not their breathing, not even their heartbeats stirred sound whatsoever. They were not shadows simply because they couldn't be, but aside from that, the ShadowClad were one with the shadows.
No communication was needed, not even visual signals. As if they were a hive organism, they moved with purpose.
They first triple-checked for any TVA agents in the large archive room, and then one of them pulled a rectangular staff from their shadow. The staff was laden with [Script] but was equally a product of technology. They placed the staff by the main entrance and, with a hand gesture, activated it.
From the staff, as if the ink had been spilled, shadows crept forth like a petroleum spillage. Soon the entire room was flooded, not a single detail able to be discerned. Then, as if by artistic flair, the room slowly returned to its original appearance: rows of shelves, archives, rugged flooring, the concrete cold walls, and none of the ShadowClad could be seen.
However, beyond the veil of normalcy, what they had achieved was the temporary creation of an artificial dimension overlaying reality. In other words, while ShadowClad worked to file and copy all archives, if anyone else entered the room, they would not notice the intruders, giving them as much time as needed to collect intelligence, technology, data, and anything else the Imperium desired.
And while the ShadowClad was covertly invading the Null-Time Zone, in the void—the metaphysical junkyard where the TVA dumped all pruned realities—the Duskari moved with the care of a rampaging elephant.
"Fire at will! Don't let the space elves get you! HAHAHAHA!" The fat figure of a man dressed in black and red laughed maniacally as he opened fire with an AR-15 at his enemies.
"FUCKING SPICY SHITTY CHIMICHANGAS! THEY'VE GOT LADYPOOL!" A Deadpool with a rocket launcher shouted out loud.
"WHO THE FUCK CARES?!" a childish voice shouted.
"Just because your third pinky toe doesn't work doesn't mean you can't appreciate beauty!"
"Yeah! Shut up Make-a-Wishpool! Ladypool is the dream of every Pool!"
"The kid doesn't get it! Imagine all of our spiciness and hotness but in the opposite gender. That's what Ladypool represents! She is more than just one unkillable humanoid-shaped mass of tumors! She is an ideal!"
"Pay attention Kiddo! She is more than jus—"
SPLAT! The head of the Deadpool speaking was blown up by a bullet. The bullet in question entered from the back of his head, and following the trajectory, the gun that fired it was in Kidpool's hands.
"SHUT UP BOOMERS! THAT'S IT! I'm switching sides with those space elves!" Kidpool declared.
"Ehm, don't bother!" A voice, augmented by magic, came from across the battlefield. "The Head declared that since you were having so much fun calling him names, you must not value your lives. No Deadpool shall be taken prisoner."
"Names? Who are these space elves talking about?"
"It must be Netoragorn, right?"
"What?! But the Netoragon already killed that batch!"
"Shit! Who's the tattletale? Was it Headpool?"
"Hey! Don't you dare blame me, I only have half a mouth, it couldn't have been me. I bet it was Professor Xpool, that guy likes to talk."
"Shut up! At least I'm not called Blowjobpool!" Professor Xpool shouted from his wheelchair.
"Blowjobpool?! That's almost as pathetic as a Deadpool with regeneration still needing a wheelchair!" Headpool snapped back.
"It doesn't matter who spoke about that fluff-obsessed NTR'ing dragon! Just fight!"
"WOOF WOOF"
"You heard Dogpool! If the goodest boy said so, then FIGHT!"
Now this fight could have been an epic clash between two fronts of similar power, but it wasn't. The Duskari team currently fighting the Deadpool corps was an offshoot doing a weapons testing exercise. The main Duskari force invading the Void was exploring the surroundings and collecting data.
"That child Deadpool, the one with the green lightsabers, are we allowed to kill him?" with concern, one of the Duskari asked their superior.
"To be honest, I don't know," the commanding Duskari replied with uncertainty. "The Head said we could kill all Deadpool variants, but then again, that's a child, isn't he?"
"I don't know, boss," another Duskari said. "If anything, we should at least take away those lightsabers. I don't believe those are as dangerous as the Head's, but in the hands of a Deadpool? That's a recipe for disaster."
"Hey! I can't hear you, but I know those looks!" Kidpool shouted from across.
"Did he catch wind of our intentions?" the Duskari who had implied taking the lightsabers away asked with concern.
"Is it that strange ability the Head told us about?" another Duskari asked.
"I don't know, the Head wasn't very clear with the explanation," the commanding Duskari said. "Something about doing stuff that seemed crazy and delusional yet with purpose, and knowing things they shouldn't."
"You're after my bum-bum, are you not?" Kidpool shouted.
"Huh? Are they giving you greasy-uncle-in-the-basement looks? Or do the modern kids call it the Diddy gaze?" Wizardpool asked.
"Huh, so you had your own Uncle Ben, Kidpool?" Spiderpool asked.
"..." Hearing their words, the Duskari couldn't help but facepalm.
"Boss, let's just test the resonance harmonic detonator with them," a Duskari said. "I can't bear to hear their incessant yapping anymore."
A few minutes later, a small disk etched with blue glowing [Script] flew from the Duskari front and landed in the middle of the Deadpool corps.
Without giving any time for reaction, the disk emitted a high-pitched noise, and then, as if two phones had been placed on speakerphone next to each other, the high-pitched ring echoed. The frequency of this echo escalated exponentially until the sound could no longer be heard by humans. That was when everything began to shake.
"Wha-Wha-wat is-ss-is-sss ha-hah-ha-happ-pe-pe—"
Before a Deadpool could finish his query, he—the nearest to the disk—vibrated fast enough to boil and vaporize. Then, the next Deadpool variant suffered the same fate, and then the next, and so on.
In a loaded silence, the resonance harmonic detonator vaporized all liquids within the affected radius.
"Do you think that was enough to kill them?" a Duskari asked.
"I doubt it," the commanding Duskari replied. "The Head said that cockroaches were created based on the Wade Wilson variants. At least, for a few days—weeks if we are lucky—they'll be silent."
"I guess, that's more than we can ask for," a Duskari said. "I took some notes about my observations on the activation sequence of the RHD. I think our work here is done. We won't be able to test the next weapon until they regenerate. Should we return to the main force?"
"Affirmative, let's move out."
————————————————————
Cortana Star System.
~504 BE (Before Emergence) ~1519 CE (Current Era).
In the outer rim of the Cortana Star System's Oort cloud, Aragorn in his draconic form floated in peace through the vacuum of space. Lying belly down atop his forehead was Seraph in all of her blue cuteness.
'Father, I think I'm ready to ascend to the peak of my natural divinity,' Seraph said. Her legs happily curled with her heels reaching to her buttcheeks.
'Sweet Seraph, weren't you ready since long time ago?' Aragorn asked.
'Yes, I've indeed been ready for some time now, but I was waiting,' Seraph replied.
'Does it have anything to do with the reason you chose Dreams as your second divine domain?' Aragorn asked.
'That is the case, Father. Your daughter was hoping to achieve something, but I believe I need some of my darling Father's help,' Seraph said, her voice laden with sycophancy.
'Seraph, when have I ever denied you?' Aragorn replied, his tone as honeyed as it could be.
'There was that incident with the probing—'
'We don't talk about that, my intrusive daughter,' Aragorn interrupted.
'~Fufufu,' Seraph chuckled happily.
'Now, let's set that aside and tell me what was your original intention with [Dreams],' Aragorn said.
'I wanted to create a dimension of dreams and learning, one that could have pulled the astral forms of the dreaming,' Seraph said.
'Ah, I can see where you found your problem, but do go on,' Aragorn said. His body slowly drifted to face Cortana (the star).
'I think the problem is authority,' Seraph said, jumping to her conclusion. 'I believe one of the big bosses isn't allowing me to create a conflicting dimension with the purpose of the already existing Dream Dimension and its aggregates.'
'The real problem is the Dreamtime, darling daughter,' Aragorn said. 'The Dreamtime has the authority over the collective unconscious of a Universe. Within it, the Dream Dimension is found, as I'm sure you know.
'The problem is that creating this Dimension of Dreams and Learning conflicts with the ultimate authority of the Dreamtime, the [Collective Unconscious] part of its authority,' Aragorn explained.
'But I don't want to create my dimension within the Dreamtime,' Seraph pouted like a coddled girl.
'Is there a problem with that?' Aragorn asked, intrigued.
Seraph's solution was what Aragorn was going to suggest. So long as her dimension is found within the umbrella of the Dreamtime, she would find no conflicts with the issue of authority. But, apparently, Seraph didn't want to walk the easy path.
'No, that place is all convoluted with all sorts of problematic neighboring dimensions: Nightmare World, the Dream Dimension, the Realm of Madness, and even some divine realms,' Seraph complained. 'Not to mention that anyone and everybody accesses the Dreamtime when unconscious—bar you, Father.'
'Maybe you do have a point; that doesn't sound like a good dimensional neighborhood,' Aragorn said. 'Mmmm, let me think about a possible solution, my demanding blue love.'
'Thanks, Father!' Seraph chirped in his mind. 'I love you.'
'Nice,' Aragorn said with a chuckle.
'Don't be a jerk!' Seraph slapped down on his forehead.
'~Hehe, I love you too, Seraph,' Aragorn said.
As Aragorn delved into possible solutions to fulfill his daughter's whims, and they drifted through the vacuum, a celestial object came into view. More accurately, a procession of them.
The leading figure was an inert frozen world; it was a large planet about the size of Uranus. Behind it, like children moving in a queue, came a rocky planet of smaller size, somewhat smaller than Neptune, three Earth-size iron-cored planets (like Mercury), and lastly two silicate planets (like Earth).
While Aragorn's and Seraph's eyes tracked the planetary procession, Aragorn's tail swayed like a symphony conductor. His detailed control over telekinesis ensured there was no abrupt change in the acceleration of the planets' displacement or rotation. If he pulled too fast, he could rip the atmosphere off the gaseous planets or crack the rocky ones.
When a certain point was reached, the queue was undone, with each planet following a different path.
The planets that needed adjustment in their orbital speed were shrouded in momentum-controlling spells to ensure they reached the optimal speeds without falling apart.
The planets that would keep their orbital speed were simply settled in their appropriate orbits.
These were some of the superficial cares needed to migrate planets to a new star system; planetary-wise, there were countless calculations and preparations that the Duskari engineers had already done for Seraph and that Aragorn was simply following.
To move these planets, some of which are considered resource planets, others which will be terraformed, an average of three years was needed for a team to fully work the needed math only; the migration path and optimal orbits were a different matter.
Yet, even then, Aragorn was doing all of this while he thought of possible solutions to Seraph's request.
'Maybe, the simplest answer is the correct one,' Aragorn said.
'Conquer and claim the entire Dreamtime?' Seraph asked, reluctant.
'Yeah, if you become its Dimensional Lord, you'll have full control over it,' Aragorn said.
'Mmmmm, it's not that I'm unwilling,' Seraph said.
'But?' Aragorn asked.
'Then I'll have to ascend now and do the dimensional conquering later,' Seraph replied. 'I wanted to get my Dimension of Dreams and Learning going soon.'
'If you are in a hurry, then yes; this solution would have to wait until we return,' Aragorn affirmed.
'Yeah...' Seraph said while dragging her reply. 'What do you suggest, dear Father?'
'I suggest you ascend now, then take your time to conquer the Dreamtime of our Universe,' Aragorn said. 'Otherwise, even if we create some sort of temporary dimension so that you could get your plan going, I doubt it would grant you as much authority as the Dreamtime could.'
'Won't that cause friction with the deities of our universe?' Seraph asked.
'To be honest, I've been thinking of eliminating some of them,' Aragorn said.
'Eh? It's unlike you to start a conflict. What's the reason, Father?' Seraph asked, surprised at Aragorn's confession.
'I just don't see any possible future of them living under my shadow without causing trouble,' Aragorn said. 'I know I'm basing my impression of them on the comics I read and the deities of this Universe; they could be completely different—I haven't met them.'
'But?' Seraph asked.
'But Gaea's recounts of their...' Aragorn paused while looking for words. 'Their "merits" tell me that they are exactly how I picture them.'
'I don't believe it's a good idea to get rid of them yet, Father,' Seraph advised. 'We still don't know for certain where the Reality Stone is. The Mind Stone is certainly in Thanos's hands, based on the rumors we caught in the Galactic Intranet and some of Captain Kitty's sources.'
'But the Reality Stone is an incognita. There have been too many changes, and the Goblin Force messed things up—needless to mention the Green Door. For all we know, if Thor was going to bring the Reality Stone to Earth, now it's highly doubtful Odin will even cast him out to Earth due to your presence, Father.'
'Maybe the best action is to wait until we have the location of the incognita before stirring things further,' Seraph suggested, while affectionately patting Aragorn's draconic head. 'It's not like time is running out for us, is it?'
'Maybe you're right,' Aragorn said. 'I've been eager to hand off and drop Earth in Doom's care, and maybe I was rushing things.'
Aragorn paused for a moment.
'Okay, let's decide what we do about Dreamtime after we return. But for the moment, do still ascend, because I'd rather you're found with an excess of power than lacking,' Aragorn said.
'Oks, Father!' Seraph chirped happily. She was delighted to be of use to Aragorn. 'I'll ascend now.'
Immediately after her words, something metaphysically astonishing yet physically unimpressive happened. From the populated planets of the Cortana System and across all other celestial bodies where Imperial citizens could be found, [Faith] in the Goddess of Wisdom and Dreams began to bleed out in rivulets.
Faith, although some could sense it, was invisible to almost all. Not even the targets of this faith would normally be able to see it. However, in Aragorn's eyes, it was just as visible as Seraph's current merry mien.
In his eyes, faith in his daughter was moving across the Imperium's territory like how a circulatory system distributes blood—a bloodstream of belief. With the main flow coming from the Cortana System.
The flows, like the blood vessels in a body, inosculated in Seraph. Her eyes fluttered half-closed as her soul ascended quietly to the peak of natural divinity—the place where deities like Gaea, Odin, Zeus, Selene, and others stood.
This ascension, as magical and significant as it was, only took a few seconds and was carried out naturally—without fanfare, no bells and whistles. And when completed, Seraph merrily fully opened her eyes and declared, 'I'm done! Also, I've contacted Spark and she decided to ascend as well.'
'Was Spark waiting for you?' Aragorn asked.
'Yes. I'll need some of her help with my Dimension of Dreams and Learning, so she was waiting to see what I would do,' Seraph stated.
'There's you, Spark, Selene... and I think Yao is almost there, right?' Aragorn said.
'Yep,' Seraph nodded. 'The others will probably ascend in one or two centuries.'
'That's good. It's been 300 thousand years since the start of this project,' Aragorn commented. 'It's about damn time.'
'Are you anxious about returning to Gaea, Father?' Seraph asked.
'Yes. Something strange is going on back home, so I want to be there as soon as possible,' Aragorn said.
'Don't worry too much, Father,' Seraph said. 'With all your countermeasures, even if everything fails, you'll be there the moment anyone lays a hand on her.'
'I know, but I still worry for your sibling and Gaea,' Aragorn said.
'On that topic,' Seraph cheerfully chirped, 'Can you tell me if I'm going to be a sister or a brother?'
'PFFT! HAHAHAHA!' Aragorn burst into laughter at Seraph's silly joke. 'My cute daughter, last I checked, your sibling had not developed any gender. Gaea and Noona believe that it will be male, though. I think it's going to be either genderless like me or male.'
'Eh, why so?' Seraph asked, tilting her head cutely.
'This baby will be a monster born out of myself, Gaea, and Noona. It shall need the sturdiest "container," and in nature (Gaea's representativity), the sturdiest is almost always the male counterparts,' Aragorn said.
'Ah, I see what you mean,' Seraph said in realization. 'And if the biological mold is not used, then the baby might just disregard gender altogether, right?'
'Yes. If biology matters, then possibly male. If it doesn't, then like me,' Aragorn said.
'What do you want, Father?' Seraph asked.
'A baby boy,' Aragorn replied without delay.
'I thought you might prefer a baby more like you,' Seraph commented.
'No. Our society is gendered, and I already have enough girls, don't I?' Aragorn said. A tentacle grew from behind Seraph and petted her head.
'Technically, Spark and I are shapeshifters like you, Father,' Seraph said. 'And Mother as well. Now that I think about it, from the future baby's perspective, should he be born male, he would be the sole male of our direct family.'
'... You're right,' Aragorn said in realization.
'~Hehehhehe!' Seraph laughed, her voice ringing loud in his mind. 'Silly Father!'
'Whatever, I still want a baby boy!' Aragorn huffed.
'~Hahahaha,' Seraph laughed harder. 'You're so cute, Father.'
A few hours later, the new planets were stably in orbit, and Aragorn was done with the task.
'Do you want to come to the Isthmus and witness the TVA's capitulation?' Aragorn asked.
'Sure, Father. I also want to visit the little princess; I haven't seen Mindee since a couple of decades ago,' Seraph agreed.
While Aragorn and Seraph shared some cosmic dragon father and synthetic goddess daughter bonding time, in the TVA's south forward base, chaos ensued—news about sectors of the Null-Time Zone falling dark had made it to the command center.
"This doesn't make sense!" Judge Dox shouted. "Stark joined their side just recently! This speed in infiltrating the TVA is unreasonable!"
"Maybe they have been plotting this since the beginning, and the data Stark leaked was all they needed to complete their research," Judge Renslayer said.
"We must pull back," Judge Gamble said. "The cost of this war has gone well beyond the manageable point. We can't pull more agents from the field. Time variants are still being born despite the ongoing war."
Judge Gamble stated what they all knew; even then, it was hard to accept.
"... We have no option, do we?" Judge Dox asked—the answer she dreaded, but also knew was inevitable.
"It's not about whether we have or not; the will of the TimeKeepers is what matters," Judge Renslayer declared. "Before we commit to a decision, we should convene with Miss Minutes."
The other two Judges nodded in agreement immediately, for they were all loyal to the idea of the TimeKeepers.
As they reached this decision, Aragorn—who had part of his attention on his daughter and Mindee frolicking about as they shared recounts of their past 'adventures'—was tracking the Judges' conversation through his All-Seeing eyes.
"Mindee, Seraph, I'll step out for a bit," Aragorn said.
"Eh? Where are you going, Father?" Seraph asked, one of Mindee's tail resting lazily in her lap while she combed it.
"I'll have a conversation with Victor Timely about the war," Aragorn said.
"Has the Judges' Council reached the only logical conclusion after they discovered the children's infiltration?" Mindee asked.
"Yeah. A two-front war is not something they can afford against an opponent with apparently near-unlimited resources," Aragorn explained.
"Then I'll inform the children that their time is running up," Mindee said.
"I can imagine the frenzy that will explode when that message reaches them," Seraph chuckled. "I bet they will leave stealth behind and turn into a Black Friday mob after the TVA's gadgets and records."
"I'll see you later, princesses," Aragorn said before exiting the timeline.
————————————————
Citadel at the End of Time
Aragorn appeared at the end of Time, the Sacred Timeline coursing through the space-like backdrop that seemed to be born out of an Aurora Borealis and a swarm of nebulae.
"It's beautiful," Aragorn absentmindedly commented. "I would decorate with a few stars and constellations here and there, but that's just personal preference."
He turned his gaze toward the out-of-place structure—the citadel from where Victor Timely overlorded the reality of Earth-199999.
Aragorn blinked out of existence and reappeared in the room where he had left the fuming scientist from the 31st century. His appearance now was a stark contrast to the regal fury he wore before. Disheveled beyond measure, as if going through withdrawal, a man falling apart both mentally and physically—that's what he looked like.
It wasn't only the man himself. The room was a mess, and several screens projecting the ongoing war in the Isthmus and the invasion in the Null-Time Zone plagued his view like dementors did Azkaban's prisoners.
"No, no, no, no, no, FUCKING NO! Can't you SEE THEM RIGHT UNDER YOUR SHADOWS!" he roared.
In the projection he was watching, a squad of Minutemen charged with repelling the invading Duskari force was being slaughtered by the ShadowClad.
"You're asking too much from them," Aragorn's voice interrupted his crumbling.
"EEEAGHH!" he yelped and shouted in alarm—and maybe a bit of trauma. "...W-What are you doing here?!"
Victor Timely fought countless variants of himself to claim the title of He Who Remains. Victor Timely tamed the beast Alioth and made it his guard dog. Victor Timely was the author of the entire reality of Earth-199999. Victor Timely was nigh-omniscient. Victor Timely had lived for millions of years—maybe even more. Victor Timely was well-deservedly the owner of the Sacred Timeline, just as he was its creator.
If someone like Charles Xavier was considered a control freak, a person who couldn't keep his telepathic tentacles outside the minds' orifices of those around him, then Victor Timely—someone who planned entire lives—was a monster beyond the term 'control freak.' There was no comparison.
So, if Charles Xavier felt his life whirling out of control after the appearance of an incognita like Aragorn, then Victor Timely felt existential dread after something beyond his design—beyond the All—like Aragorn showed up in his perfectly planned and controlled life.
"It's time to end the war," Aragorn said, his empathy flaring violently and washing over Victor Timely, suffusing the sense of :Calm: in him. "The Imperium's children have had their fun, and the TVA can't afford a prolonged confrontation anymore."
"...Fun? FUN?!" Victor Timely's artificially infused calm didn't last long. "DO YOU THINK THIS IS A STUPID GAME?!"
Once more, Aragorn projected calmness on him. "The Imperium's actions will create a different path than your intended one for the Sacred Timeline, but the end result will be similar enough—and you shall have your Loki Variants," Aragorn spoke without giving credit or importance to his ranting.
"My path is the only path! Do you think I haven't tried a different approach?" Victor Timely asked, this time without exploding in rage and panic.
"If that were the case, then my existence here shouldn't be possible, right?" Aragorn asked. "I was never part of your plan; that is proof enough that your outlook is limited."
"Even if it is, I built and have protected the Sacred Timeline since its inception. No one knows it better than me," Victor Timely declared.
"...It doesn't matter," Aragorn said after waiting for Victor Timely's high to fade. "Either the war ends, or you go back to being a puppet. Or, I stop caring about it all and replace the TVA with my own organization. I could even kill you now and take over it. Repurposing your AI is not a problem for me. Hence, you're not needed.
"I'm simply not getting rid of you because you're inconsequential. There's absolutely nothing you can do that I can't undo. There's absolutely nothing in your head that I don't know already—inconsequential. That's it," Aragorn said before jumping back to the timeline, leaving Victor Timely alone to simmer in his powerlessness.
But Victor Timely was not going to take it lying down. He had no reason to accept Aragorn's words at face value. Sure, he had been a puppet to him for eras, but that didn't mean that Aragorn could anticipate all of his moves!... Right?
At least, he believed so.
Hence, when the madness overtook him, he dropped a time ripper into the Sacred Timeline and decided to purge existence.
The time ripper appeared in his room with a note that read 'Inconsequential.'
Madness didn't understand failure, so he decided to drop countless reset charges throughout the timeline, going even as far back as the Big Bang. Yet, once again, each reset charge popped into his office with a note that read 'Inconsequential.'
He detonated a world-ending explosive device into the temporal loom, yet the explosion played back as if winding back in time, and when it returned to the explosive device, a note that read 'Inconsequential' was on top of it.
He tried to outright destroy Earth—yet, then again, 'Inconsequential.'
Blowing up the Sun? 'Inconsequential.'
Collecting the Infinity Stones? 'Inconsequential.'
Ending all life in the universe by manipulating a Celestial seed? 'Inconsequential.'
Unweaving the time-space mesh? 'Inconsequential.'
Starting a divine war? 'Inconsequential.'
Collapsing the universe into a singularity? 'Inconsequential.'
Sicking Alioth on the Sacred Timeline itself by releasing it from the void? 'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
'Inconsequential.'
Nothing worked; everything was inconsequential. It got to the point where, even as ideas began to formulate in Victor Timely's mind, detailed notes with the reason for the future failure of his ideas began to pop up.
No matter how much he tried, he couldn't find out how Aragorn was able to read—or predict; he wasn't sure anymore—his mind, and that was driving him insane.
'Is he still in my mind? Am I still his puppet? Is this all a psionic illusion?' he thought in despair.
He had tried to end his life more times than he could remember—considering he was nigh-omniscient, that was saying something—yet even the release of death was denied to him.
And so, madness learned failure, and when the Judges' Council asked Miss Minutes about the TimeKeepers' will, she said, "The TimeKeepers, in their infinite wisdom, have agreed with the Council's suggestion and support the start of diplomatic talks with the enemy."
For the first time since the all-out war exploded, there were no cleansings, no confrontations. The Duskari pulled out of the Null-Time Zone, and the TVA was able to step into the sectors that had previously gone dark—figuratively and literally—and the variants were pulled back and placed in containment, awaiting the resolution of the war.
In a show of deference, the TVA's generals, the Judges' Council, boarded a quinjet from the 22nd century and flew to Urbes Sorores.
On their way, warning signals went off.
"What's happening?!" Judge Gamble demanded of the pilots.
"General, temporal readings are going haywire! Something is happening down below!" one of the pilots exclaimed.
The view from below the quinjet was projected via one of the tridimensional holograms in the cabin. Then they saw what was happening on the surface.
Matrixes of green glowing [Script] surfaced across the entire visible surface of the Isthmus. The green glow from the projection illuminated the astonished and terrified faces of the passengers.
Time was being rewound—something considered an impossibility without the Time Stone. The scale, though? It was humbling. The amount of temporal energy bleed was off the charts, and the perfection with which only selected phenomena and targets were being affected left them speechless.
By the time they arrived at Urbes Sorores, the lush cold jungle they had found almost two decades ago had returned. The artificial lakes of death, born as a consequence of the many detonations, were no more.
The inhospitable environment—which had been akin to Venus's surface on a good day—had returned to the perfect biome for Aragorn's megafauna.
The clouds that had turned into miasma agglomerations had transformed into harmless water vapor.
"It was all a stupid game!" Judge Renslayer exclaimed, her voice breaking under the undeniable truth. "They prepared for it. All the lives of our people... they were just a senseless sacrifice..."
For the Judges, the TVA was an organization of like-minded humans who sought the protection of the Sacred Timeline. They were heroes—the type of saviors whose achievements would not be forgotten in history, but were nonetheless monumental.
For eras, they had been laying their lives down for the holy mission of the TVA; and while there had been plenty of sacrifices, especially thanks to some rogue variants, nothing compared to what they had experienced.
Nothing as massively deadly as the loss of lives that had occurred in less than two decades. All to an enemy that had clearly been playing with them since the beginning.
It was unfair. They were not evil. They hadn't started the war, they simply wanted to stop the variants from ruining the Sacred Timeline. They were already sacrificing their lives for the sake of the universe. They were the unsung heroes. Yet, these people they were about to meet had trampled on their honor, mission, pride—and their lives—all for what appeared to be a fucking game.
...That was how the tragedy was seen from their point of view.
So while Judge Renslayer's eyes went vitreous with unshed tears, Judge Gamble's nails were sinking painfully into her palms, and Judge Dox's jaw was clenched so hard she was about to break her teeth.
The quinjet landed in the designated landing spot, and with the same loaded mood, the Judges moved to the selected Obelisk for the meeting, guided by a Duskari escort.
From the first floor, without them being able to react due to the mist of wrath, pain, and hate clouding their minds, they were teleported to the last floor.
They walked, and Aragorn, in his A'Heelah persona, waited for them along with Seraph, Mindee, and Emma.
"Allow me to officially welcome you to the Isthmus territory of the Fulgebunt Draconis Imperium," Mindee spoke first. "I'm Mindee Millie Fulgebunt Draconis,"—Mindee gestured to Emma—"first princess of Queen Goddess Emma Fulgebunt Draconis.
"This is Seraph Draconisphillia, second daughter of Aragorn the Shine Dragon," Mindee said, introducing Seraph. "Lastly, but most importantly, this is Aragorn the Shine Dragon, addressed by the mortals as A'Heelah, founder and creator of the Imperium and the Drachantheon Therion."
The eyes of the Judges burned brightly with hate at Aragorn.
"Judges Ravonna Renslayer, Gamble, and Dox, we are pleased to have you here in Urbes Sorores for the historical conclusion of this pointless war. Please, take a seat," Mindee finished and gestured to their prearranged seats.
"Pointless?!" Judge Renslayer asked, with more force in her voice than intended.
"While the disruptions caused by my Imperium and its Duskari were outside of the TVA's planned path, their existence would never have caused branching realities," Emma replied. "Undeniably an empire of variants—by TVA standards—yet not one which would have broken the Sacred Timeline. Hence, the war, aside from being a lengthy military exercise and weapons testing trial, was pointless."
"BILLIONS! BILLIONS OF GOOD MEN DIED AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS THAT IT WAS POINTLESS?!" Judge Renslayer exploded.
Judge Gamble reached for her shoulder and placed a solid hand on her to signal her to calm down.
"I apologize for my colleague's outburst," she said. Her voice was calm, but the hate and wrath couldn't be hidden from the Therion's empathy. "As you can see, it's been a grueling war."
"The emotional overload that led to Judge Renslayer's outburst is understandable," Seraph said. "But the logic behind it is faulty at best."
"Are you implying there's no justification for it?" Judge Dox asked.
"Like your so-called TimeKeepers, you're a bunch of self-serving hypocrites," Aragorn replied, with a voice so flat and a face so expressionless it made the receptors flinch. "You attacked. You started this, not us. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt by assuming you understand that it's unnatural not to defend against an attacker. Hence, you're nothing but hypocrites who cry now because your victim turned out to be more of a predator.
"You probably claim the moral high ground in your minds by telling yourselves that you're doing what you do to protect the timeline, yet you don't know even the minimum about what a natural timeline looks like—or who your TimeKeepers are, for that matter.
"If you care so much about the loss of lives, why don't you go to the Void and cry a water world for the endless deaths you carry in your blood-drenched hands? All those lives you unilaterally forced into the Void with a reset charge; the entire timelines populated with countless lives—what about them?" Aragorn rhetorically asked.
"What's the alternative?!" Judge Dox questioned. "A multiversal war?"
"Are you not putting the cart before the horse?" Seraph asked, with an amused expression. "'We must doom entire timelines because otherwise, a multiversal war that will doom entire timelines will ensue'—sounds stupid, doesn't it?"
"T-That's not..." Neither of the judges knew how to reply.
"We care not for your feelings. We owe you nothing. We care not for you. You're nothing to us. This is not an exchange of culpability," Emma declared, her eyes narrowed in a glare. "You lost. You're here to sign a binding contract that will keep your disgusting, blood-soaked hands away from what's ours.
"Aragorn has spoken with your TimeKeepers. Your opinion matters not. So act like the slaughterers that you are, and don't shed crocodile tears in front of your enemy just because they bested you after you started a pointless war. After you led your men to their pointless deaths. After you turned their sacrifices meaningless from the start," Emma said. Her words struck their hearts like a sledgehammer.
The hatred, the wrath, the powerlessness—the judges couldn't find words to retort.
"For now," Seraph said, floating some paperwork to the fuming judges, "why don't you calm yourselves while reading these?"
Later that day, after the TVA's people had departed and the Duskari were returning to the previously abandoned Isthmus, on one of the higher balconies of another Obelisk, Emperor Stark gazed at the Duskari with a critical eye as they repopulated their cities.
"This is a strange empire," he said to himself.
"Strange? It's normal in my eyes, isn't it?" Seraph asked.
"Princess, does your presence here imply that the surrender agreement has been signed?" Emperor Stark asked.
"Yes. They have been forced to keep any TVA matters away from the territories of the Imperium and Father's properties," Seraph replied.
"Just that?" Emperor Stark cocked an eyebrow in question. "They invaded your land, killed your people, ravaged about 97% of your territory, and you only forced them to keep away? A restraining order?"
"Yes. They have nothing we haven't already acquired after we invaded the Null-Time Zone," Seraph said. "Besides, we allowed them entrance, and nothing was lost."
"Nothing?" Emperor Stark asked, curious about the statement.
"The Duskari that fought on the frontlines were meat puppets. The only true bodies that stepped into the war were the ShadowClad and those invading the void," Seraph revealed. She used her technopathy to send Emperor Stark a rough sketch of how the Duskari controlled their meat puppets.
"Aside from monetary costs and some resources, this war left us with so many more benefits that some of the more belligerent children are already conspiring to goad another empire into attacking the Imperium," Seraph added. "It really was a fruitful war."
"...That only further proves my point that this place is strange," Emperor Stark said with a dumbfounded expression.
"Maybe it's because the Drachantheon Therion raised the Duskari differently than humans," Seraph pondered out loud.
"Anyway, what happens now?" Emperor Stark asked. "Am I clear to return to my timeline?"
"That's why I'm here," Seraph said. "I'll ship you to the future, when the TVA will have mostly fallen or branched. Father will then send you to a branching timeline not unlike yours, where your counterpart had died. You can take his place."
"I figured as much," Emperor Stark said. Once a timeline had been reset into the void, there was no turning back.
"Father says that you can keep your P-Link," Seraph pointed at the Link in his neck. "He said that you owe him, and that in the future he might request your help through it. I added some of the Imperial tech designs and principles you didn't have access to as a bonus; you'll be more helpful to Father the more capable you are."
"I repay my debts," Emperor Stark replied with simplicity but weight.
"Good, then goodbye," Seraph smiled. "It was interesting meeting another variant of my friend."
From below Emperor Stark's feet, a green magic circle came to life, and then he was no more.
The TVA left the Sacred Timeline that year after packing up, and the fog concealing the Isthmus was lifted. Via the absurdly 'fast' news channel known as Sailing Across the Atlantic, the news of Aquila's empire opening its gates speedily made it to the Old Continent, and as if someone had claimed the One Piece was real, ships set sail to the Isthmus.
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}