The orphanage, for once, was peaceful. The children were scattered across the living room, laughter bubbling up from their newly-found happiness. They wore the new clothes Alvin had bought for them earlier, each one looking far less like the ragtag group of orphans they had been just a week ago.
Tomas and Leo were in a corner, showing off their new shoes, while Lily and the other girls braided each other's hair, giggling and whispering like the little kids they were. The younger ones had sprawled out on the floor, playing with small trinkets that Alvin had managed to buy for them as well.
Alvin leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, silently watching the scene. His eyes were distant, his mind elsewhere. The sight of the children enjoying themselves did bring a subtle warmth to his cold exterior, but it was fleeting. There was something far bigger on his mind. The apocalypse was looming on the horizon, like a storm that hadn't quite touched land yet but was already rumbling.
Three months. That was all the time they had left.
And in a world like this, survival didn't come from just sitting around and hoping for the best. There were people—people favored by the world's laws—who would naturally thrive when the apocalypse hit. They would awaken powers and become the chosen ones. But these kids? They weren't favored by the world. They were the misfits, the discarded, the weak. He couldn't rely on luck.
No, Alvin needed answers. And there was only one way to get them.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, standing straight. "Time to have a word with the universe."
With a flick of his hand, the air around him shimmered as ancient, arcane symbols appeared in a glowing circle. The fabric of reality trembled as Alvin pulled at the strings of magic that lay beneath the surface of the world. He hadn't attempted to commune with the laws of a world since... well, it had been centuries, to say the least. But this wasn't his first time playing cosmic chess.
The air grew colder, and a low hum reverberated around him as he closed his eyes. He reached out with his consciousness, diving deeper into the essence of the world, searching for the thread that bound the laws of reality together. It was tricky business, even for someone of his caliber, but he was persistent.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, a faint voice echoed in his mind.
"What is it you seek, mortal?"
Alvin smirked. The voice was dull, grandiose, and full of self-importance, the kind that loved to hear itself speak. Exactly what he had expected from the World Laws of this place.
"Mortal? Really?" Alvin's voice oozed sarcasm as he stood in the center of his magic circle. "I've faced down gods and demons, bent the fabric of time and space, and this is the greeting I get? You're slacking, world. You used to have better banter."
There was a pause. Then the voice returned, colder now.
"State your purpose. I have little time for idle chatter."
Alvin chuckled, folding his arms across his chest as he stared into the void. "Little time, huh? I guess being the embodiment of existence keeps you busy. Filing cosmic paperwork, sending out meteor showers, managing natural disasters—it must be a thrilling job."
The World Laws didn't respond immediately, but Alvin could sense its irritation.
"What do you want, Alvin Bencio?"
Ah, so it knew his name. Of course it did. Alvin wasn't surprised.
"Simple. Tell me who the world favors in this apocalypse. You know, the lucky little fools who are going to awaken superpowers and conveniently survive while everyone else gets turned into zombie snacks."
There was a long silence, longer than Alvin expected.
"That is not information you are permitted to know."
Alvin snorted. "'Permitted'? Are we really going to play that game? You know I'm not going to stop asking until I get what I want. Save us both the headache and cough up the information."
The voice grew colder still. "You overestimate your importance, mage. The fate line of this world is not yours to alter. Your presence here is an anomaly. Do not test me."
Alvin's smile grew. Now they were getting somewhere.
"Oh, please. Anomaly? You think I got here by accident?" Alvin's voice dripped with mockery. "I'm here because I touched the laws of this world the moment I arrived, and you—my dear cosmic friend—are stuck with me. Now, be a good little cosmic bureaucrat and give me the damn names."
The World Laws bristled. "Do not presume to command me, mortal."
Alvin rolled his eyes. "You're like a broken record. 'Mortal this, mortal that.' Honestly, you need new material."
The voice sharpened, the air around him growing heavy with the force of its anger. "You are but a speck in the grand tapestry of existence, Alvin Bencio. You are nothing but dust beneath my notice."
Alvin grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Dust? Funny you should say that. Because I'm about to make you choke on it."
Without warning, Alvin reached out with his magic, fingers weaving through the shimmering air as he grabbed hold of the very fabric of the World Laws themselves. A shockwave rippled through the room, and the voice screamed in pain.
"WHAT ARE YOU—?!"
The fabric twisted in his grip, crackling with raw, primal energy. Alvin's grip tightened, and the scream echoed louder, reverberating in his mind.
"Now, now," Alvin said, his voice cold and dangerously quiet. "Let's not get melodramatic. You've been throwing your weight around for too long. I've bent the laws of magic and reality before, and I'll do it again. So, how about you stop playing coy and answer the question before I rip you apart and use your threads to make a pretty scarf?"
The World Laws let out a pained, ragged gasp, clearly unprepared for this kind of direct assault. "You... you cannot do this... it is against nature..."
Alvin's eyes narrowed, his voice low and mocking. "'Against nature'? Darling, I'm Alvin Bencio. I've spent centuries breaking the rules of nature. You're just another rule I'm willing to bend. So, I'll ask you one last time... Tell. Me. The. Names."
The World Laws trembled under his grip, powerless to resist. The arrogance in its voice had vanished, replaced by a note of panic.
"How are you... this powerful?" it gasped, its voice weak and strained. "You shouldn't... be able to..."
Alvin smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because I've spent lifetimes dealing with pompous entities like you. Or maybe I'm just naturally talented. Take your pick."
There was a moment of tense silence before the World Laws finally relented.
"Fine..." it said, its voice full of bitter defeat. "You win... I will tell you what you want to know... but this knowledge comes with a price, Alvin Bencio."
Alvin shrugged, releasing his hold on the fabric. "Oh, spare me the ominous warnings. You know I don't care about prices. I've already paid more than enough."
The World Laws let out a long, weary sigh, as if bracing itself for what was to come.
"Very well..." it whispered, and Alvin felt the weight of the world's secrets beginning to unravel before him.
"The ones favored by the laws of this world are..."
The voice faded as the knowledge flooded into Alvin's mind, each piece of the puzzle falling into place. His smirk slowly faded, replaced by something colder, sharper. He had been expecting answers, but not like this. Not this... plot.
Alvin stood still, staring into the distance as the last echo of the World Laws faded from his consciousness. His mind raced with the new information, and a slow, dark chuckle escaped his lips.
"Well," he muttered to himself, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "Isn't this going to be interesting..."
With a flick of his hand, the magical symbols around him vanished, and the room returned to its normal, worn-down state. Alvin glanced toward the living room, where the children were still playing, oblivious to the monumental revelations he had just uncovered.
But that was fine. They didn't need to know.