-M29. 671. Terra. Imperial Palace. Inner garden-
The inner garden of the Imperial Palace is one of the most luxurious places in the entire Sol System, filled with countless flora and fauna from the Old Earth. Psychic and material engineering made the beauty of this place paramount. Golden crustal walls and warm shimmering light move fluently from above, acting as the miniature sun in the garden. It was one of the Emperor of Mankind's private places, serving as a serene place for escaping from countless tasks of the Lord of Imperium.
But now was different because she had a guest to be pleased. The demi-goddess from Falmartian. Currently, she sits before him with a ceramic cup in her hand.
"This was pleasant, Milord," Rory says to the Emperor, smiling slightly.
"I'm glad to hear that, Rory Mercury." He smiles at her, causing the Apostle to withdraw her gaze.
The situation became silent as some tense atmosphere reigned supreme around them. No one opens a conversation, but the Emperor maintains his calm demeanor.
"The Imperial Truth," Rory began. "That truth is really our ultimate fate?"
The Emperor of Mankind did not answer presently. He stares at the Apostle for a moment. The wise man holds his own chin, studying Rory's countenance.
"That's what our ultimate fate is according to my design. Humanity's evolution into a psychic race was inevitable. Thus, I provide them with the most suitable way and infrastructure to achieve that." He answers, eyes never leaving the Apostle.
"Speaking of our ascension. Beings that what we will become. What is your next move when we achieve that height?" She stares back at the Emperor, wanting an answer.
"I will hold that plan for myself. But if ascension has come at hand. Humanity would become unchallengeable. Those abominations shall know what the true meaning of fear is." His words were not claimed or boasted but the ideal truth in its truest form.
Rory had witnessed that so-called ideal truth. When her eyes saw that, it made the entire world she known to crumble. The dogma that had taken a deep root in her life started to fade away. Also, her vision of her ascension as a goddess changes rapidly.
Rory's will to create her own worship and a dream to grant the mortal desire had turned futile. The truth and destiny offered by the Emperor are not only tantalizing but also the most pragmatic. The unchangeable truth acts as the opposite of the Primordial Truth.
"Your Majesty," Rory says slowly, face slowly descending to the floor.
"Speak freely, young miss."
Rory did not mind how the Emperor addressed her. The Emperor was far older than her and much wiser than any gods she had encountered. This man earned respect more than anything in her life. More so, he is the one who owns the Truth.
"What must I do now? I have nothing left because of your initial revelation." Even though she hides it, Rory's hands are trembling. "My entire foundation of life has been destroyed."
The Perpetual took a sip from his cup, turning his head to the garden. His eyes are deep and calculating as if trying to search for an answer.
As long as Rory watched the Emperor, she only found herself in contradiction. His demeanor, aura, and charisma constantly change to suit his agenda. This man had many faces and characters to hide the truth of his figure. But there is one thing that has not changed from him, namely perfection. She can argue that he has a flaw, but it might be that flaw was also intentional to ensure his plan came to fruition.
"I offer you two options, Rory Mercury." The Emperor returned his gaze toward the Apostle, plastering a neutral expression.
"What those would be, Milord?" Rory raises her head, face full of hope.
"But I need your heart fully converted into the Imperial Truth." He states without remorse.
"I don't think I follow, Your Majesty. I have seen the truth." She objected, confusion streaming across her countenance.
"Yes, you have. But your heart says otherwise, Rory Mercury." The Emperor's golden eyes stare at the purple orbs.
"My... Heart?" she could not find any doubt left in her heart. Then, something is hidden behind that sentence.
"Your connection with your goddess. She still has your souls, isn't she?" The statement made Rory's eyes widen in shock.
When she had become the Apostle of Emroy, her entire soul was bound to her patron. Thus, limiting any of her entire decision. Also, there is a possibility that an Apostle would be totally severed from their patron god, reaping them from their power and immortality.
"I must... Severe my connection?" Rory asks, her hand clenching on her chest.
The Emperor shook his head in dismissal. "No. I did not ask for such a thing. I want you to consider these two options with your goddess."
The statement made the Apostle able to take a deep breath of relief. Yet, the distress still lingers on her shoulders.
Even though the choice did not immediately put her in an unfavorable condition. She could not wrap her mind around predicting Emroy's replies to her behavior or decision. If the separation of her connection comes shortly, as she has no preparation would leave her nearly millennia-old body to crumble and eventually turns into a cloud of dust, forgotten by time. Worse, her legacy would be overwritten by the new Apostle.
Then, she realizes something. All of her words and activities could be clearly monitored by her goddess. Yet, no warning was given.
"You realize it, don't you?" Said the Emperor, smiling at her.
"My connection. Your Majesty, have you blocked it?" Considering the raw power of the Emperor, it would obviously make sense. But blocking the entire connection in her essence without difficulty was an astonishing feat in its own league.
"I only make a separate reality from the conventional material plane. The power of Immaterium and Materium cannot touch us here, Rory Mercury." The Emperor stated confidently.
The gap becomes broader and more expansive when the truth unveils itself. His title, the Emperor of Mankind, is among countless masks that make up his origin. Also, in that revelation, she had witnessed the true form of the sea of madness and its inhabitant. Gods and goddesses of Falmart only the skin of the true flesh. Even though they still represent the concept real world, they are still chaotic in literal forms.
The Emperor stands and represents a form of anthesis of those all.
In that maelstrom madness, the sea of insanity and everchanging place, the majestic Master of Mankind manifests firmly.
He was the Ideal Truth. The order of the entire universe as it was a place for those who seek redemption. A safe haven for the sane. Lord Protector of universal mandate.
He was Anathema to the entire gods.
"Milord, I can't express how much gratitude I owe you.' Rory lowers her gaze, smiling, albeit it is transparent.
"You owe me none, Priestess. But please, talk to your goddess; thus, I can utter my offers." the Emperor smiles at her, giving a big question in the Priestess' head.
"Why must I sever my connection to accept those choices, Milord?" Even though she did not question Emperor's judgment. The curiosity has still taken the best of her.
"Because either of those choices will affect Falmart's reality on the most fundamental level." He rose from his seat, walking to a particular table.
"How is that even possible?" Rory inquires, eyes trying to steal glances from what the Emperor searches from the table.
"Did you aware of the concept of fate or destiny?"
"Fate is a matter that falls in the Oracle's responsibility. As far as I know, it was a form of a thread that governs every living being. It tracked their life, acting as their future. Sometimes it was unchangeable. " Rory says the most basic thing about the knowledge of fate and destiny. The fact that the concept of fate itself only ended in the abstract form, resulting Bard extending its function in each of their songs.
The arrival of the Saderan enforces the position of this concept further. But in her young days, long before she gained immortality and power, she had witnessed something akin to destiny.
This is also among a dozen reasons she grows fond of Lelei.
A certain blue-haired girl when she was still in priesthood. She had wondered if her descendant was still alive somewhere in Falmart. If she was indeed still alive, nothing would stop Rory from looking for her.
"I must say that was a very basic explanation," The Emperor says with a hint of happiness.
"My apologies, Milord." Rory lowers her gaze to the table.
"You no need to apologize, Rory Mercury." The golden Emperor returns, holding a red book that invites Rory's attention.
He put the book on the table. "You can read this. Afterward, I want your answer."
"Pardon my rudeness, but to read through this entire book, I don't think it would be that fast, Your Majesty."Rory takes the book and opens it to the first page. On that first page were the words Rory then spelled out. "The String of Threads?"
"In your term, it would be unfamiliar. But imagine every action has its own cause and effect. When both of them occur dynamically, a new world shall be created. Each of those worlds is a possibility that you either take or not. Now imagine each of those worlds began to unravel, creating the Skein. The Skein was created by amalgamation of your actions, manifesting infinite branches across space and time."
"In other words. It is like my actions would lead to the creation of another... Universe?" Rory concludes the explanation, trying to digest the explanation.
"Indeed. " The Emperor sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. "But that was the simplest explanation for the nature of the Skein. Also, the Skein is the place where not-yet-formed creation resides. A place of suggestion and idea. It is the place of overlapping destiny."
It only made Rory's head feel a metaphorical pain. The explanation is too much for her. Moreover, her civilization is far from the level of the Imperium. Yet, the one big question remains.
"What is the correlation of this... Skein with my choices?" Rory inquires, raising one of her brows. "Please, don't get me wrong, Your Highness. Suppose the formation of a new world depends on our decision. Then I would have created countless in my lifetime."
"That would be correct, Rory Mercury. But those universes would be separated from yours. But each of my offers would affect not only you directly but all of your counterparts. I am afraid something beyond my expectation happen." The tone used by the Emperor sounds genuine, that he cares about her.
Rory smiles in return, nodding her head in understanding. "Very well. I will open this book, then."
The Emperor only poses a neutral expression, his eyes staring at the Apostle with pure calculation. The Emperor is curious about the result, which is understandable. Rory opens the book. Without warning, a flash of light blinded her.
Rory opens her eyes slowly. What she saw now was something beyond remarkable. There are auroras with unmatched beauty hung in the night sky. Flowing like tendrils of shimmering fate, overlapping in such a beautiful way that Rory could not find any word to describe it.
The veins scattered across the sky, radiating a blissful atmosphere around her. In contrast to the majestic scenery, the land literally stretches like a boundless sea. It was calm, only vibrating when Rory moved her leg to walk. On a closer look, the countless auroras above only reflected one in the water.
"Interesting," Rory mutters. She decides to follow the one that is in the water. After a few minutes of walking, Rory glances at the sky. The auroras began to split in various directions. Rory stares back into the water again, following the one visible in the serene water.
She walks further into this place. She expects many things to appear in this place. Fortunately, none of her grim thoughts came alive. The deeper she goes, only one aurora remains above.
The atmosphere drastically changes instantly. Yet, it was neither malicious nor cold. It was warm and encompassing. Delightful would be sufficient to describe the situation.
The aurora in the sky slowly faded away, but it did not happen with the one in the water beneath the Apostle. It is still intact in its brilliant glory. As she follows the vein, the darker sky is, and even the water is not visible anymore.
It was a long journey. Her body wants to stop, but she will persist. After a few minutes, she arrives at her destination.
Before her eyes, there was a magnificent golden brilliant. It was a crack in reality, becoming the only source of light in the dark space.
The aurora vein beneath her feet also lines straight to the crack itself. The light seemingly not only sways away the darkness but also pierces her soul as well.
It was tempting her to draw closer. Rory slowly made her way nigher to crack. The warm sensation only grows exponentially.
Rory touches the light. The light burst around them, engulfing the Apostle inside its radiance—seconds after that blast, streams of information and power surged into Rory's body. There she saw himself in various forms and personas. She also saw herself in distinct clothes and even with different parents. Deep inside the bubbles of reality, truth is coming to her sense.
It is a glimpse of her holding not her signature halberd but a long white sword. She wore black and white armor with golden pouldrons on her shoulders. It was artistic beauty, unrivalled by any wonders in her world.
The most shocking of all is her height dan face. She was much more mature and developed. Her face is pure, but there is no trace of innocent. She was the reincarnation of the holiest power and thus acted as its executioner.
She has become the angel of death for Emroy, taking any lives for her and hers alone. Her entire life had been devoted to her service. But this time is the only moment that burns deep in her memory.
Her counterpart's majestic appearance and holy radiance made her jealous, albeit slightly. The holy one's face is adorned with pride and power. But unlike her power that radiated death, this one radiates life and death simultaneously.
The mature Rory turns her head, staring at the Apostle with a warm smile. This was something that caught Rory off guard. The white-armored Apostle extends her hand.
"What do you want from me?" Rory asks her holy counterpart.
The woman did not answer, smiling as she never let her hand down for the original Rory. It was a sincere sentiment that managed to strip Rory's mental fortitude.
"Why?" Rory asks her one more time. Like the prior one, she received no answer, just a smile.
Before Rory can lower her face, the holy Apostle states her words. "You have a brighter future, Rory Mercury. Humanity is waiting for its avenger. It is your duty to take the mantle."
"Humanity's avenger? I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Rory asks with confusion clouding her mind.
"The mantle for those who strike humanity's nightmarish enemies. You shall become their savior. You shall be remembered as Rory Mercury, The Judicator." The firm statement sent to the Apostle of Emroy a form of revelation.
Rory reaches the holy Apostle's hand, grabbing it with passion before a burst of light erupts and thus swallowing her in a warm embrace.
"Humanity needs its champion of light, guiding them to their fate as ascended species. It shall be your duty, Rory Mercury." The holy Apostle speaks with a booming voice, shattering doubt in the Apostle of Emroy's heart.
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The material reality returns to her. Rory is trying to stand on her feet while her head is spinning uncontrollably. Nausea plagued her. Rory holds her mouth to endure anything in her stomach from coming out.
The Emperor of Mankind touches her forehead softly, healing her from her affliction.
"My apologies for this side effect, Rory Mercury." He says apologetically.
"There is nothing to worry about, Milord." Rory shook her head in dismissal. After a modest recovery from her initial experience, Rory raises her head. "I have seen another version of me. She was an adult woman with artistic armor. Somehow her armor bears many resemblances from your culture, Milord. I want an answer to this."
The Master of Mankind did not reply immediately. He gives the Apostle an unreadable look. He was not unable to give her an answer, but he wanted to give her the most truthful answer without damaging anything of his plan or offers.
"That woman is you but from a very different outcome. She was a brave warrior that fought for humans. In contrast to you, she hates gods." He says to her with a stern expression.
"Why?"
"That is the answer you need to find by yourself, Rory Mercury." The Emperor told her with a warm smile.
"Very well, Milord." Rory could not find any room to press further. Thus, she only nods in affirmation.
The golden Perpetual turns his back, making his way to his table. With a touch on the flawless wooden table, a holovid materializes itself. After a split second of studying whatever was inside that holovid, Emperor's facial expression changes instantly.
"I think I have another place I must attend." The long-haired man turns to his shoulder. "My Custodes will lead you back to your room. Have a nice day, Rory Mercury."
"I also want to thank you for your hospitality, Milord." Rory bows respectfully before leaving without asking further.
After she left the room, a voice came from the holovid. "Long time no see, Neoth."
It was the voice of a sultry woman. Yet, the elegant but still stern sentiment lingers. The Emperor smiles at the person in the holovid.
It is a red-haired woman with a pair of topaz-colored orbs. She was beauty above the league of any transhumans in the entire Imperium.
"Erda. It had been a while," The man greets, smiling softly. "Is there any particular reason you call me?"
The female Perpetual nods. "I have finished my duty here. I want your permission to return to Terra."
"Permission granted. But why do you want to return here? My initial thought was you would return to Luna." He asks innocently.
"Don't play a game with me, Neoth." The woman smirks in amusement. "I heard that a Gate had appeared on Terra."
"Indeed," The smiles on the Emperor's face disappear, seriousness taking over. "It was connected to the world named Falmart. It is an early Feudal World."
"A Feudal World with a Roman-like culture." She cuts in.
"Yes, you're correct. Falmart itself possesses a very interesting origin. Furthermore, it also connected to another version of the Old Earth."
"I see," Erda hummed. "And that girl... She is a warp-born, isn't she?"
The man nods firmly, confirming her suspicion. Even though Erda was far from the Sol System, her psychic intuition was one of the best among Perpetuals. It was no wonder she could deduce it.
"She is an Apostle from a god in the Falmartian pantheon. She was a priestess gifted with immortality." The information made Erda's brow raise.
"Was? Don't tell me it was THAT project."
It was not a question but a statement that weighed with gravity.
"Indeed. It was that project." The revelation brings a heavy atmosphere between them, causing split-second silence.
"Since you revealed that project of yours, it only brought me questions. Humanity has reached the unheard zenith of technological and societal advancement. Why do they need a paragon for their survival?" Erda asks with pure curiosity.
"This was not for their survival." He answers simply. "She will fill an essential part in the next phase of my plan."
"A saint. What a romantic person you are to revive such an archaic title." Erda compliments him with a faint smile.
"When it comes to Joan of Arc, I could not achieve a greater honor than this,"
"Silly of you to bring my old name." Erda beams at him with adoration.
"As one of the most influential saints at the time. How could I forget that name, Erda?" He shoots back, tilting his head slightly.
"How nice of you. Back to our initial topic. What will you do next, Neoth?" Erda says, narrowing her eyes.
The ancient man glances at the book on his table. It was an ancient scripture dating back to the forgotten history of the Old Earth. He uses his telekinetic power to pull it closer, opening it. Inside that book is a painting woman holding a religious sigil.
"It needed to wait until she finally reached an agreement with her goddess. However, she had already come into contact with my power. Time will tell for certain." He closes his eyes. His expression turns neutral as he runs into deep thought.
"It's very unusual for you to use that expression. Are you feel uncertain about this project, Neoth?" She asks in concern.
"No. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The thread of fate shall come in my favor." He states it without flinching, proving his conviction.
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In the hall, Rory is escorted by the Custodes, and unbeknownst to them, Rory's purple eyes turn into gold.