White Lie - Demon City (147)
Written and created by Ben Rivera
The war between the peasant Retlyian town of Requiem Subjects and Retly's military unit had ended, with the latter leaving triumphantly.
"Did you hear what happened?!" A citizen asked some of his friends after skidding to a halt, having sprinted down the sidewalk.
"Huh? No, what're you all jumpy for?" One of the other citizens asked.
"The Jester's awoken and the war's ended! Our heroes are returning home victoriously!!!"
With just that, the cheerful cries of the masses flooded the city's streets. While the Jester marched through the tiled path, his blackened retinas darted onto their praising bodies. And as expected, a smile appeared over his lips, however different from the usual ominous snigger. He seemed prideful.
'If Callum saw this hilarious farce, he'd laugh as much as I am on the inside,' thought Icarus.
"That's a lotta people. And they're all cheering… for us?" Heidi asked.
"It's something, ain't it? We're the heroes of the infamous Demon City: Retly! However, the world doesn't feel the same way, y'know," said Captain Azrael.
"Really? Why's that?"
"Well, that's—I don't know, heh. Or rather, it's kinda hard to explain."
The Jester changed from waving to his Capital's plentiful subject, barely tilting his head to stare at Heidi and Azrael.
"The world's a terrible place, and people would rather stay oppressed than revel in the wondrous light that is my freedom. We're the saviors of mankind, remember that," Icarus reminded his subordinates.
"R-right…" Heidi said.
Eventually, they'd reach so far their hands would penetrate the heavens. And while birds flew past the hovering castle, there sat the brass inside. Inside a meeting room with a table, members seated all across, everyone's heads turned to the authority, listening to what the Founder had to say.
"For the past three years, we've spent squabbling over nothing. Baselessly wandering with hope Retly could become a true nation. However, the sins of the past have finally caught up to us. Twelve years later, the nations of the world, have turned against their liberators. The worlds' leaders have assembled to battle against Retly's unsurpassable demonic might as an attempt to throw them off the seat of supremacy. The same can be said for my abandoned Riverton. Heidi and Azrael's testimonies of the war's climax describe it clearly. Captain Azrael, would you like to comment on this issue?" Callum slipped into the seat, fist against his cheek as he awaited a response.
Azrael nodded and then stood up.
"Founder Rivers, I'm afraid the time has come. For a long time now, we've been relying on our Jester's unparalleled powers, including that of the Old World spirit Naraku. But the recent battle has revealed an unavoidable truth. The more we rely on our Jester's strength, the weaker Retly becomes. The question remains that, if we have both our Jester and the Founder's Artifact, is there any use for the military in the first place?"
Azrael's suggestion sent almost everyone to murmur. It was just as he'd said--the inescapable truth. Icarus, Naraku, Callum. All were strong enough to decimate the nations of the world with so much as a snap from their fingers, and yet, they still needed a military. Was the point for more of the Jester's twisted experiments, to satiate his innate cruelty, masked as a curiosity? The brass's heads remained hung until his brown hand raised.
"If I may, Founder Rivers?" asked Ryosuke.
"Ah, Ryosuke. Of course."
The Samurai stood tall, staring toward the Founder. With everyone's prying eyes now locked unto him, his lips parted.
"We should initiate the 'Old Allfather' initiative and capture all remaining beings with Requiem potential."
This suggestion caused less discourse and more shock among the surrounding members. Nevertheless, despite their surprise, Ryosuke and Rivers unwaveringly kept direct eye contact.
"As Captain Azrael was saying earlier, the time has come to stop relying on the Jester's power. Not only should we take action across the world to the active Requiems controlling the restructured Evolutionary Capital, but, in time, we should change Retly's location. Slammed in the middle of a sprawling desert, a city surrounded by a transparent bubble might shock a basic hiker strutting through the sand. However, the same goes for a high-ranking officer wandering around these badlands. Not only do they see us as a valuable resource to plunder, but they recognize us as the legendary city isolated behind plentiful mountains: Retly, Demon City. For that to change, the world must be reminded of our superiority and the danger the Requiems symbolize. The people of the world should cower in fear at Retly's very name being spoken until their fear is quelled and no more wars come our way," Ryosuke suggested.
"While I do agree with Satoru, I believe allowing a biased human to speak on behalf of the collective race is sickening. Regardless, your counsel is appreciated, Ryosuke Satoru. You may sit," Icarus demanded of his subordinate.
Once the Samurai sunk into his chair, he sighed. With Heidi's arm drawn to his shoulder, their heads subconsciously turned as the Jester's did the same to now face the Founder at the head.
"Ryosuke offers good points. Regardless, the fact remains that the battles mean more bloodshed. And more bloodshed requires more soldiers. Basic soldiers have turned obsolete so that means I can resume my experiments yet again! This should be a higher priority than that of relocating Retly or reminding the world of our supremacy--don't you think so?"
And now, it was back to the Founder. Scratching his head's side with a nail, a breath burst from Rivers' cracked lips.
"I believe Ryosuke and Azrael are objectively correct. Demonic soldiers are indeed powerful but they will soon turn extrinsic when faced with the omnipotent resilience of Requiem potential. My only problem lies with the ability to capture them. Among Ace and June Wilder, there exist the Reaper, the Judge, the Source, the Master, and the Crow. Do you think we can assuredly crush them in whatever roundabout way you're thinking?" The Founder asked.
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see... won't we?"
It was almost like magic. After the Jester queried this with that soothing sound he called his voice, the sun seemed to rapidly set. There it hovered between the sky and the Earth. After the brass's meeting, the Founder ascended some stairs, the Jester lagging.
"Sorry for disagreeing with you in there, Chrollo. The more responsible judgment for the Capital is what Ryosuke and Azrael said," Callum said, voice muffled.
"Don't be. This was part of our deal, remember? You deal with the social stuff and I deal with the 'fun'," Icarus responded from behind his friend.
Inevitably, they stopped walking. Callum rested his waist against the same edge Icarus leaned his front and arms against. Staring out at the artificial sea before him, the Jester's lifeless black eyes expectedly remained. Puffing out some smoke from his mouth, the Founder momentarily removed the cigarette from his lips.
"To think that even after almost five years of your guidance, I'm still discovering new things about leading and just being myself in general." Icarus turned toward Callum, leaning forward. "What is the extent of your knowledge? Do you remember your intellects' origin?" he asked.
Rivers exhaled more smoke into the air. "Who knows? I'll probably be dead before I get to search anymore of the Emperor's memories anyway. Oh, aren't you going to inherit the Artifact after I die? If only there were a way to prohibit my memories…" he lamented.
"Why? You got somethin' to hide?"
"Not really, just tryin' to be considerate so you don't have to see any memories of me jerking off or having sex," Callum stated, smoky excrements escaping his mouth.
"If it's you with that blonde girl, I wouldn't mind seeing those memories. Kelly was her name, wasn't it? Whatever happened to 'er? Kosuke, too. Didn't she betray you?" The Jester queried again.
"Rizia goes by 'they' and I guess so. Out of everyone who'd betray me, they were the least expected. Then again, they always loved Azazel so it makes sense they'd follow in his footsteps," after the Founder spoke, he put the cigarette to his lips yet again.
A moment of silence persisted between the duo. The ashing audio of the disintegrating stick infected the air until all smoke was extinguished. Once it fell from his fingers, and after he crushed it under his sole, he sighed.
"It's unfortunate, though. Rizia was a formidable fighter and a loyal friend unlike any other. I can't help but miss the Frontier--the way it used to be," confessed Callum, now staring to the sky.
The curtain of night had fallen over the Capital, with nothing but desert chills flowing in through the smallest cracks ingrained into Retly's transparent border. From where the Founder was standing, he watched the Jester gaze at the endless stars sparkling throughout. Chrollo, his demonic partner, was nothing more than a clueless child, in awe at the world he still knew nothing about. Callum stifled a chuckle.
"Where do you think Retly should relocate to?"
To intrude upon this quiet moment, Icarus's voice filled the air. Not only was the query itself unordinary, but it was an oddly strategic question. Callum's wide eye and parted lips swiftly reverted. After clearing his throat, his head turned, eye darting to the unknown world above, surrounded by endless clouds. The darkness seemed so cold yet he felt no chill upon him. He wondered if he was still was null as he was in his youth. Among the plentiful thoughts he pondered, there was the answer to the Jester's question.
"On my way here, I passed through lots of towns. Maybe we can replace some of them with Retly's main resources and rebuild from the ground-up. How's that sound—?"
Following the Founder's suggestion, the Jester parted his lips.
"Why're you still here?" An eyebrow raised over Callum's retina. "Riverton is destroyed. The world's changed. More than anyone, I thought you'd feel the most responsible. Yet you take responsibility for leading Retly into a new advanced age. Why is that?"
Out of everything he'd have to been asked—the Jester chose that. The stars reflected in his singular eye. If the moon were not blessing them with its light, would they be able to see anything? What exactly were they seeing before them anyway? The truth was already uncovered; nothing more remained. But if that were truly so, then why?
Why did he keep fighting when it was useless for him? Was there a 'right' answer anywhere?
'No. In this world, right and wrong are intertwined. I know that now, better than anyone. But, if that's true then…'
"I don't know. Maybe I feel responsible for you, or maybe I feel useless. The truth is, I don't understand anything that's happened anymore. The world may very well unleash their might upon us, meaning our deaths are assured. But, even so, I wish to remain and continue fighting. Not because I have to, but because I want to.
Because I was born into this world."
To Be Continued.