"…I don't know." The True Creator said, shaking his head honestly in response to Ouroboros's question. "I hope I can return."
The True Creator knew well that neither he nor Adam was the Ancient Sun God of old. They were merely extreme facets of him, parts of the whole. Neither ascending would be ideal for the world: divinity too rational, humanity too mad. Even if they merged, they could never reclaim what once was. This was one reason the True Creator had avoided fusing with Adam all these years.
But if the Ancient Sun God could truly return, all issues would resolve.
Could he, though?
The True Creator didn't know. His thoughts drifted to Alaric, that mysterious, dangerous figure who seemed capable of miracles. Perhaps the hope of The Ancient Sun God's return lay with him. This was why the True Creator deepened his cooperation with Alaric, yielding on non-critical matters... partly to keep Alaric placated, lest he destroy the world in a fit of displeasure, partly to borrow The Ancient Sun God's power for his own ends, and largely because he saw in Alaric a faint chance for The Ancient Sun God's revival.
Though slim, that hope was better than none.
"I hope the Lord can return too." Ouroboros said earnestly, pausing before adding, "I believe he will. I'll wait, always wait, until that day comes."
The True Creator seemed to sigh.
Ouroboros lowered his eyes, beginning his daily prayers as always.
Forsaken Land of the Gods
Left behind after the gathering, Amon sat quietly in the same spot, gazing at the sun. It wasn't as radiant as the Eternal Blazing Sun outside, but to Amon, this small sun, crafted by his father, was far more pleasing.
With a King of Angels' keen sight, Amon could see the City of Silver residents bustling below, spreading tales of Lucifer. They were shifting their faith, no longer worshipping his father... a change his father had permitted, even encouraged.
"Why, Father…" Amon murmured, puzzled and uncomprehending, yet he did nothing. He respected The Ancient Sun God's will.
He sat silently, staring at the sun, as if by doing so he could return to a time long past... before his father's fall, before his world shattered.
A stir nearby caught his attention. Turning, he saw a familiar golden-haired priest.
"What should I call you now?" Amon asked, adjusting his monocle and smirking at Adam. "Brother, or Father?"
Adam's golden eyes met his. As Amon held his gaze, he froze. Those eyes, usually devoid of emotion, now held a faint trace of something new... feeling, subtle but real.
Amon frowned instinctively, wanting to look away, when Adam's gentle voice spoke. "You can still call me brother, Amon. I know you'll never acknowledge anyone but him as Father."
Backlund
Klein, Azik, Medici, and "Jack Jones" were sent home together, as they currently lived under one roof. Reinette Tinekerr, Sharon, and Maric, who'd been together before the Joker Club gathering, were also sent back as a group, though to a different location.
"Medici, I'm starving!" Alaric, in his Jack guise, yawned. Even with his deep spirituality, the day's chaos had drained him, leaving him teetering on the edge of collapse.
"Eat yourself to death, then!" Medici shot him a glare but headed to the kitchen anyway.
"I'll help." Azik said, following him.
"Where's Mr. Lucifer?" Klein asked, noticing someone was missing.
"He's handling City of Silver matters. Won't be back for a few days." Alaric said, waving a hand and yawning again. "So tired."
He wasn't about to admit that, as Lucifer, he'd already found a spot to nap.
"How many days have you been up this time?" Klein asked, unfazed by Jack's bleary state. Jack was notorious for pulling all-nighters, leaving Klein worried he'd drop dead from exhaustion.
"Three?" Alaric guessed vaguely.
"You should rest sooner next time. Keep this up, and I'll really think you'll keel over." Klein advised sincerely.
"But knowledge is so tempting. I can't resist." Alaric said, rubbing his eyes.
Klein sighed, at a loss, and resolved to slip some restorative herbs into Jack's water next time... though he wasn't sure what this era offered for wellness.
By the time Medici and Azik finished cooking, Alaric was half-dreamwalking. He ate in a daze, then stumbled to his room to crash.
When he woke, it was the next afternoon.
"Evening! Where's Klein and the others?" Alaric stretched, descending the stairs to find only Azik reading a newspaper.
"Klein took a commission to guard a client all night, so he's gone. I'm not sure about Medici, but he left you a note." Azik said, setting down the paper and handing over a folded letter from the tea table.
Alaric opened it to find a single line: "Collecting supplies, gone for a few days."
He raised an eyebrow, unsurprised. Medici was likely off to retrieve supplies swindled from Intis, then distribute them properly, which would take a few days.
***
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