The tattered oak walls of the restaurant are carved with warriors clashing in a ruined space battlefield. A high platform is above the main floor, an area for miniature visitors, with chairs upholstered in beige rough fabric and tables adjacent.
Giants trek the wide expanse zone below, towering like ancient structures as they casually eat, chat or cook. A strong smell of spices, beef and cheese surrounds them in thick waves. The sound of chatter fills the table where Ishaan and companions are seated.
"What type of person is Queen Pope?" Czar asks Orpheus.
"You want me to tell you about our Lady Savior and Salvation?" A gleeful smile etches his mouth, sitting on the ground of the main room, his head right above the railing. "My, I'm delighted. If Her matriarch is the Mother of Angels, then She was a mother of love. Long ago, there was a tradition of bonds under Her reign."
"Uranus, with its mechanized sun, stars and moons, had a true night under the real moon every dusk. Thylane would gather everyone in the plaza onto a massive cloud that covered our world like a pure sky. A television screen would hang above, the cosmos a backdrop of wanders, and with our Queen we witnessed countless lives foretelling history somewhere in the universe."
He closes his eyes, a brief darkness of pain capturing his hue in a molten gray. "She guided us to see light in every connection and to treasure light we must appreciate the darkness in our prologue. Our very lives are the darkness and when we see the light in various beginnings and ends, we've come to understand that the struggle we face is the path to peace beneath light. She is the reason that even if Uranus falls back to its olden ways, we will find strength in the downfalls, as it makes rising much more luminous."
Ishaan sips on a cup of coffee as he listens; the bitterness does little to bless his taste buds like a sweet one would, but a flavored coffee makes him sleepy rather than awake. 'Madness is the original depth. I wonder if this tradition of bonds the half breed created was to suppress the madness crawling forward in the giants' souls when they were in agony.'
"What a gentle perspective of your mother," Akira says, his lip curling in a smile that does not reach his eyes. "You damn near beat our Ishaan with the flattery of words, practically convincing me to change my faith. I have no fondness of Reaper of Celestial's'."
Orpheus regards him in curiosity. "You're quite a bold soul. I have never heard someone diss a god, let alone their own divine sovereign. No wonder your Lord Ishaan's comrade. Strong individuals need a bold friend."
"Don't get it wrong, friend from another realm," Akira says, smirking as Iskra tosses him a glare. "She is not sovereign of Moon Clan, but a mere ancestor. Something I will be in the future generations to come. And it's not a diss to my own god, because I have no faith or belief in gods."
The Pope of Uranus inclines his head, perplexity brightening his dark gray eyes. "Then why did you say you will change faith if you never have any to begin with?"
"He isn't a god yet," Akira answers, mischievously tapping his fingers. "Above all, I was teasing you."
Ishaan chuckles as Orpheus blinks, even more confused.
"Look, the food is here!" Czar interrupts, softly shaking his head in amusement. 'Not even an hour into meeting him and he's already suffering from Akira's bullshit.'
The porcelain waitress named Solace is a machinery robot comprising green-plated arms, a rectangular torso with panels displaying the menus, its chest lined up with LED buttons. Its long round legs tread towards them, an odor of machine oil in its wake.
"Table seven," Solace says in a perpetual friendly tone. Its articulate fingers push the sole LED green button, and its legs buckle, the central thighs opening and revealing a pit of darkness. Several items shoot out and land neatly on the table. "Beef stew, pepperoni spicy lemon sandwich, rice and sushi, chicken soup with beefy wheat and four waters."
Ishaan thanks Solace, then slides his plate of rice and sushi towards himself. The waitress's wheeled feet glide away as the four dine into their food. When nighttime came, in the boy's shared room, Manon leapt out of Czar's soul.
Star Killer shudders, inhaling and exhaling slowly. She lowers to the ground, her face twitching in discomfort. A soft blanket drapes over her shoulders, thrown by Weather Singer, the pacify fabric made by solar magic that originates from Saint of the Spirits relic, with the blessing of the relic Heaven's Falling, it's attribute purification, which banishes toxins, dispel illusions, and create luminous fields of protective light that energizes everything it touches.
As she curls up on an armchair, Ishaan appears before a small table to the right of her and sets down a bowl of soup, a side of rice and a can of strawberry cream soda. "Thanks, Lord Ishaan. Did you cook this?" she asks him, to which he shakes his head, returning to one of the beds. "Not this time," he says. "Eat well. Once you're done, you and Czar will begin searching for the cave."
Weather singer twirls his hands in the air, chiming in: "I'll be the one to cloak you two, so make sure I get credit for when you stumble upon something. Well, not actually stumble. That would mean you possess the mind of an amateur!"
****
After the two are cloaked in the relic, Invisible Narrator, they begin searching for caves with their divine companions for hours until they find the one Raiden described in intricate detail. They do not get the chance to investigate for long before the sound of heavy footsteps alarms them.
The two quickly return in the evening and debrief with the others. "I found a messenger audio text that said in return for the crystals harvested, they'll give Uranus a new god," Manon says.
"A new god?" Czar brows rise in puzzlement. "From the way the giants speak of Queen Pope it seems unlikely everyone is on board for a new god."
"Giants do not like war or any form of drama that spills blood," Akira explains. His dark pink eyes turn a pit of charcoal pink in disgust. "Instead of making the conflict known, they'll fight it out six on six, with the pope as a witness. For a bunch of powerful people, they sure fail at dominating. Talk about incompetence."
Manon shakes her head, her expression a deep scowl. "It's admirable, you mean. Compared to you, you're the opposite of them. Whoever you rule over will suffer because of your chaotic passion of fighting brutally."
"Hey, now, don't be like that. You're only saying shit because you're personally upset with me. That is a flawed characterization of you," Akira says, his voice dripping with provocation. "Might I add that I don't kill people unless it's in a fight." He coughs dramatically. "Can you say the same?"
"Why you motherfuck—
"Enough," Ishaan snaps.
After a couple minutes of silence lingering in the atmosphere, Ishaan rubs his fingers together, then reclines in his chair, head supported by his hand. "Let's capture him. I'll convince Orpheus to invite him to lunch. Here's the plan. Dearest little Akira will put a sleeping potion in his drink. I'll carry him out on the pretense of him being wasted and interrogate him."
Everyone nods, salutes, then heads to bed, but not before Enigmatic Poet murmurs: "We'll be getting visitors."
An hour before the predicted descent by Mankind Eye, Czar Venezio walks on air with Crescent Hunter, his personal relic that has the attribute of cloud float, enabling him to travel the sky, stepping anywhere and creating a pressure of air steps beneath his feet. He stops behind the restaurant, settling on the roof edge and gazing into the dark golden sky.
The sun is tilting, as if it is creeping behind the clouds. The lukewarm hue of the moon mingles in the sunset as it glides forward ever so slowly. Whenever night descends, the sun is flipped around, and the fake moon of this realm takes glory in the sky.
Down below, Ishaan effortlessly hauls the giant to a motel in the distance and comes back after a short while, cutting the distance as swift as light, appearing on the rooftop. As if sensing him in the depths of Lunar Goddess's soul, Manon manifests into reality.
"It's here," she announces, gaining an eye roll from Akira, who mutters, "Sister, we have senses, too."
They all ignore him; the four, now five, follow her line of sight, their muscles straining in attentiveness beneath their league uniforms. In the center of the city, a gaping ragged milky circle spins into existence. The eerily vortex scorches the air with a violent destructive aura.
A loud screech can be heard, seemingly drilling through people's eardrums. People's skin prickles with goosebumps and their eyes bulge at the sight of illusionary symbols caging the vortex.
A six-armed entity emerges; a brilliant dark presence leaks from the creature. A giant purple eye etched its forehead, while a large collection of asteroids sprouted its back like wings.
The casual air surrounds Voyager Seekers in stark contrast to rising tension within the giants, and Akira taps into his siren trait, sending a calm wave through the resident of Uranus. Before Orbit Evolution fully emerges, Ishaan elevates a hand, solar energy coursing up his forearm, utilizing one of the common skills, force field; it envelops the entire city in a warm bright hue.
He forges it not only to protect the population of Uranus, but to stop the Obit Evolution from feeding on the people's fear to obtain a power boost.