The fluorescent lights buzzed with a sound that transcended time.
"Lord of Mysteries..." Klein repeated the name, his voice echoing in the sterile hallway. He tried to feign ignorance, to play the role of a confused time traveler. "I don't understand."
The Ancient Sun God, leaning against the cold white wall, let out a chuckle that lacked any humor. "Oh, you do understand. Above the Sequence."
He tapped his own chest, then pointed at Klein. "The will of the previous Lord of Mysteries has already begun to awaken inside you. Just as the Primordial One is awakening inside me. I can feel the resonance. My 'Guest' is reacting to your 'Guest'."
Klein stiffened. The synchronization. The mental corruption. The constant battle against the Celestial Worthy.
"I know everything," the man stated tiredly. "I wouldn't be a Quasi-God Almighty if I didn't know about such trifles."
He pushed himself off the wall and began walking towards the heavy steel door at the end of the hall. "I know that I have already died. I know my plan failed. I know that this place... this reality... is what you call a 'Recorded Past'."
Klein's pupils dilated. 'He knows he's in a simulation? He knows he's dead?'
"How..."
"Omniscience isn't just a title," the Ancient Sun God said softly. "Even across timelines, across the boundaries of this 'Tower', I can see the threads. I know about your 'Quest'. And if you want to receive the rewards, you have to help me."
He stopped at the door. His shoulders slumped, the weight of a failed epoch pressing down on him. "It feels pathetic," he whispered. "To know the ending of the movie before the opening credits finish rolling."
He turned to Klein, his golden eyes flashing with a sudden intensity.
"Do you know what I planned? What I should have done?"
Klein shook his head, though he remembered.
"I planned my own assassination," the Sun God confessed. "The Primordial One is close to taking over. I needed to die to shed the corruption. I would have revived in the Giant King's Court, in Sasrir's body."
He waved his hand, projecting images onto the white walls—a diagram of divinity. "I would have taken back the Hanged Man characteristics. Used the First Blasphemy Slate to control the Chaos Sea. Then, I would have awakened Adam. With 'Grazing' and 'Virtual Persona', I would have controlled the Sun, Tyrant, and White Tower pathways without accommodating them directly."
He clenched his fist. "I would have been infinitely close to a Great Old One, stable and sane, waiting for the Apocalypse to take the final step. I didn't want to become a Pillar in this era. It was too risky."
He looked at Klein, a bitter smile on his face.
"But from your memories... from the 'History' you carry... I saw it. It all went in vain. Leodero, Aucuses, Herabergen... they betrayed me."
Klein remained silent. What could he say to a God who had just spoiled his own tragic ending?
"Regardless," the Sun God straightened up, his charisma returning. "We are here now. In this loop. I will help you."
"Help me how?" Klein asked.
"The Justiciar," the Sun God said. "The Uniqueness of the Justiciar Pathway. Arrodes told you about the part of Son of Chaos and stupid boon of his."
He pointed to the ceiling, as if looking through the simulation to the crystal tower outside. "That is the only real Uniqueness that got attracted here when this crystal formed. All the other Uniquenesses—the Moon, the Darkness, Uniquenesses and characteristics inside me, even that second Attendant characteristic you just swallowed—are 'Wished' into existence. They are valid here, but they won't be real in the outside world."
Klein froze. "Wait. So if I leave..."
"The characteristic you absorbed will separate," the Sun God confirmed. "Or 'unwish' itself. I don't know the mechanics of this Tower fully, but I can guarantee one thing: it will be painful. Extremely painful."
"Great," Klein grimaced. "So, how do I help you? There are three Kings of Angels plotting to eat you. And I don't know who is loyal."
"Medici and Ouroboros are loyal," the Sun God said with certainty. "My boys are faithful. But the others..."
Suddenly, the Sun God grabbed his head. He staggered, slamming into the steel door. CREAK. From the edges of the doorframe, a thick, black, viscous liquid began to gush out. It smelled of the sea, of chaos, of absolute corruption.
A voice—not the Sun God's, but something ancient and terrifying—echoed in the room. "Pathetic."
The Primordial God Almighty. The Awakened Will.
The Sun God grit his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead. "Get out of my head."
"You are the pathetic one," another voice answered.
This one came from Klein. It was the Celestial Worthy.
"Trapped in this weakling. Unable to break free. A half-baked Pillar."
[Your syncronization rate is accelerating!]
The two dominant wills of the Universe began to argue across the bodies of their hosts. The pressure in the room spiked, cracking the reality of the simulation.
"Enough!" The Sun God roared. Golden light exploded from him, suppressing the black liquid. He panted, sweat dripping from his face.
"Go," he ordered Klein, his voice strained. "I can't hold 'Him' for long. Go to Amanises. And go to Lilith."
"Lilith?" Klein asked.
"Yes," the Sun God gasped. "They are my friends. They will help. Now go!"
He waved his hand. The white room shattered.
Klein stumbled, reappearing in the basement of the cathedral. The divine pressure was gone. The silence was deafening.
He quickly checked his status.
[Synchronization Rate: 32%]
It had grown. The conversation with the Ancient Sun God had accelerated the awakening of the Celestial Worthy.
"I need to move," Klein whispered.
He sensed the city above. Thousands of people—real people, travelers, merchants—were in the cathedral, praying. The anchor was strong. But he couldn't maintain the marionettes anymore. He needed to conserve spirituality for the coming war.
"Sorry," Klein murmured.
He snapped his fingers.
Retract.
In the bakery, the baker collapsed. In the streets, the police officer fell. In the clerk's office, "Adam" slumped over his desk.
Five thousand bodies fell motionless. Panic erupted in the city. Screams. Confusion. "The Mayor is dead!"
"The Priest fainted!"
Klein didn't stay to watch the chaos. He stepped into the Spirit World, [Hunger of Digital Void] turning transparent.
Klein stepped out of the void and into the living room of the safehouse. He expected silence. He expected the Secretive Plotter cleaning his sword.
What he found was a food fight.
"Give it back!" Kim Dokja shouted, reaching for a steamer basket. "That's the last dumpling!"
"Finder's keepers, little reader!" a woman's voice laughed.
Klein blinked.
Standing in the middle of the room was a woman he recognized from the meeting at the Giant King's Court.
She was tall, voluptuous, and radiated a sense of bountiful life.
She wore a dress made of woven vines and flowers, and a large, ridiculous botanical hat covered her face in shadows.
Omebella.
The Goddess of Harvest. The Giant Queen. The wife of the Giant King Aurmir.
The Subsidiary Goddess of the Earth.
She was currently using thick, green vines to hold Kim Dokja upside down by his ankle while she calmly ate a dumpling with a wooden fork.
"Delicious," she moaned. "What is this filling? Pork and chives? We don't have chives in the Giant Court. We only have mushrooms."(;3)
"Put me down!" Dokja flailed. "That's cheating!"
"All is fair in love and harvest," the woman grinned. "And blood."
She noticed Klein standing by the door.
She dropped Dokja (who landed on his face) and wiped her mouth with a leaf.
"Oh!" She clapped her hands. "You must be the fellow from the Modern Era that Amanises talked about! The one in the red armor!"
Klein adjusted his monocle, trying to process the absurdity.
"You are... Omebella?"
"...," she shrugged. She walked closer, sniffing him. "You smell like Amanises. And... Grisha."
She smiled. It was a beautiful, motherly, yet deeply cunning smile.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning in so only Klein could hear. "I sometimes forget my original name. It's been so long since I used it."
She winked. "Hello, Mysteries. You can call me Lilith."
Klein's jaw dropped. 'Wait. Lilith?'
"Lilith?" Klein stammered. " The Sanguine Ancestor?"
"Shh," she put a finger to her lips and laughed.
Looks like the human side of Lilith, which goes the same for Amanises, weren't fully erased in Third Epoch. They could somehow maintain their original personalities.
She turned back to Dokja, who was massaging his forehead.
"Now, about that recipe. I'm willing to trade a high-sequence potion formula for it."
The Secretive Plotter, sitting in the corner, finally looked up from his newspaper.
"This team," he muttered, "is getting too crowded."