THEOS

“I am.” Luke said after a second, his voice catching in his throat and his mouth dry. Suddenly feeling nervous even though he didn’t quite know why.

He wasn’t going into battle. His life wasn’t on the line. His secrets were safe… or well, as safe as they could be.

No, this nervousness was caused by something much more mundane, and strangely, it caused him even more dread.

His life on Theos, thus far, had seen him quickly become used to high stakes, impossible odds, and the threat of impending death.

It hadn’t prepared him for what might be a hard, emotional, conversation with a man who had just lost his fiance.

Battles and struggles for victory and life were easy. Luke gave it all he had, because his soul was on the line. Which made the outcome simple, and easy to accept. There was comfort in knowing what he needed to do, and then knowing he had done all he could.

In a way, it absolved him from the consequences of failure. Because if he had done all he could and still failed at the end of it all, then that was that. Some things simply weren’t meant to be.

A conversation like this though, was a minefield. There was no winning, just doubt and heaviness.

The door slid open, and Cyzicus strolled in. His back was straight, and the battle with the Rebel hadn’t left any visible scars on him. His long hair was combed neatly under his crown, his golden robes were clean and crisp, and he didn’t even have bags under his eyes or anything that visibly alluded to the fact that he was less than a hundred percent.

The vitality of Hero-tier beings was too high for such minor concerns. Even so, the stark emptiness in his eyes betrayed him. Especially when compared to his usual animated cheer.

“I’m glad to see that you’re well. Come let’s go for a walk.”

Feeling a hitch on his throat, Luke thumbed the Rebel’s ring, stuffed it in his pocket, and nodded. Absently he noticed Cyzicus’s gaze traveling to it before averting itself shortly after, seemingly uninterested. Whether that would remain the case, Luke didn’t know, but either way he didn’t have any intention of hiding his spoils. There was no need to. He trusted the older cultivator, and if Cyzicus wanted to, there was little Luke could do to stop him anyhow.

They walked to the deathly quiet halls of the castle at a sedate pace. The bright lights, the white marble, and the silver furnishings looked more sterile than grand with the weight of Sophia’s death hanging over the both of them. Even the servants scampered out of the way, whenever the pair rounded the corner. A stark contrast to how they had been around the Emperor the first and last time they had walked through the castle.

Looks like they heard the news too. Luke thought nervously. Still not a reason to be scared though, it’s not like he’s going to do anything to them.

After minutes of near unbearable silence, they made it to their destination. A balcony overlooking the rear of the castle. Thousands of cultivators, a mix of both warrior’s and blue robed mortals were lined up around the same illusory map of Sylcra.

Unlike the last time he had seen it, the balance between the red dots signifying the attacking giants, and the green dots representing safe locations had been skewed completely, with more than two thirds of the island actively being attacked by the Gegenees. Even so, it looked like they had enough bodies to stem the tide. Not that it was ever in question. There were more than enough cultivators on the island, likely by design, to keep the giants in check.

Clite was standing at the forefront with another warrior that Luke didn’t recognize. Directing each of the teams unto the altar. At her direction, the platform would shine and flicker with rainbow colored light and the teams would vanish in short order. Once in a while, another team would return. Most whole, but once in a while, a team would flash back with a body in toe.

A grim reminder for all of them, that while the Mortal-tier giant’s weren’t particularly strong, they were dangerous and not to be underestimated.

“Who’s powering it?” Luke asked. The last time he had been here, the Tide had only just begun, and Cyzicus was toiling away under the strain. Now the whole assembly seemingly ran itself.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have to be there full time. There is a reserve of power that I fill over the years, which keeps it serviceable. I activate it when I must kill a Hero-tier giant if one appears. Of course, it will exhaust itself in a few days, but that’s all the time I typically need to dispose of one of them. A few hundred warriors gathered together can also power the system, but then there’s not enough of us to combat the horde and recharge the wards around the castle.”

“I see.”

“Mhm. Right now, however, it’s being run on a Saint-tier mana crystal. They are exceedingly rare, as far as I know, they only appear in the Holy Lands of the Gods. I requested aid from one one my friends when your and Lukeus’s actions led to the removal of Arke from the archipelago, and Sophia was slain. This was her solution.”

Shit… Luke thought, and his face turned pale at the implication.

“Did the Rebel call for help too? Is that why…”

The Emperor sighed. Reaching to his head, he pulled the crown off of it, and held it in front of him.

“I… I don’t know. The moment the borders opened there were too many beings that entered the island, and I was too occupied to keep track. One of them may have been answering her call. Whoever it was though, if there was anyone at all, they’re gone now.” He said quietly. Only to smile slightly at Luke’s rapidly paling face.

“It’s not your fault. It was Heracles who broke the blockade, and he did not know the balance of power that had been established on this island. Probably too much of a musclebound meat head to even know what that means, and too full of conviction to care. The young often are.” He grinned slightly. “Truthfully, I should have freed him myself, but doing so would have only invited reprisal from that wretched woman. I could not feign ignorance of her intent and rules, and the soft spot Lord Zeus carries for the youth would not apply to me, even if it was his own son I aided. Arke is an Olympian, and as such privileged to the rights they have granted to themselves. Besides,” he continued with forced cheerfulness, “when we get mandates from those stronger, what can we do but obey. I was bound to listen despite my concerns, and no doubt, whoever solicited you to action is suitably powerful to warrant an action from you as well. They would have to be if they could come here and give you a quest without my knowledge. So, even if Tyrisa had outside help, the fault of outside help does not fall to you. None of it does.”

Cyzicus looked meaningfully at Luke. “I’m quite surprised she let you live. Lukeus garnered some level of protection, him being my grandson and all but…” He trailed off.

“I almost didn’t.” He admitted, his voice heavy in guilt.

“Do not be sorry.” Cyzicus sighed. “Your guilt is unnecessary, and truthfully annoying. It was me who enlisted Sophia’s aid, and it was me who left her alone to combat my greatest foe. I’ve lived for millennia… in that time, I have learned not to blame children for the actions of those thousands of years older than them, and immeasurably more powerful” He chided. “Could you imagine how petty I would need to be?” He said, cracking a small, half hearted grin.

Luke didn’t respond right away, and for the moment continued to watch the cultivators line up and go off to battle in front of them. Even with the Emperor’s platitudes, his guilt ran rampant in his thoughts.

It wasn’t a god that made me go and free Heracles, it was the God Seed. It gave me the quest… after I poked it.

It’s obvious in retrospect that the Seed acts with my thoughts in mind. I am just as vital to becoming a god, as the environment and the opportunities around me. It’s childish to assume that it won’t act to put my mind at ease or to motivate me. Whether that manifests in ways that stroke my greed, or by putting me ina fire and letting me get strong enough to crawl my way out, or any other method it has to promote growth.

In a way, I guess it doesn’t even matter if the situation I’m in is actually threatening or not. If I think it is, and it hampers my progress, then the Seed will direct me. Its purpose is to make me a god… Whether I want to or not.

Huh.

I wonder what will happen if I suddenly stop and give up? Will it give up, and just wait until I die. Will my death separate it from my soul, or will it remain attached and follow me to the afterlife.

Did Aeolus really detonate his soul, or was the Seed tearing itself free from a failed subject? Is that why it always lands me in situations where I’m constantly forced to advance.

Thinking back, even Nefkha’s favor was meant to be repaid when I became a Warrior.

His mouth went dry.

When I look at it like that, am I responsible for the Seed’s actions, or am I stuck with them?

Cyzicus thinks some unknown god incited me to action, but it was a Quest. I don’t know what happens if I fail one, and how would I even begin to determine if a quest is legit, if my fears are legit, and if it’s okay to fail or not.

Honestly, I can’t.

As I am now, the Seed might as well be omnipotent. Mortal, Warrior, Hero, Saint, maybe– probably something in between, God, and then Primordial.

I’m getting cues from something higher than a god.

He frowned, as the realization sank in.

The Seed is controlling me, and I’ve been more than happy to be controlled. Afterall, my desires and its purpose have always aligned. I want to be a god. I want to be free to decide my own fate. But the tool that will take me there, might not be as benevolent as I thought.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

He looked at Cyzicus from the corner of his eyes.

But I can’t let my advancement be at the cost of others. He thought to himself. Then with a heart full of anger, he prodded the Seed. You hear that? I’ll become a god. The strongest deity to ever live even, but you’re not going to drag anyone down to get me there, you understand!? I won’t climb higher by sacrificing others. That’s not the god I want to be. I won’t make this world hell to feed my own strength like some kind of sick vampire, not even unwittingly.

“I guess…” Luke started to say, the words feeling heavy in his mouth. “I’m sorry for the part I did play. While higher powers were involved, I may not have had a good choice, it was still me and my actions that led to… I don’t think that the action of higher powers absolves me of all wrongdoing. Maybe most of it. I didn’t know what my actions would lead to, and I didn’t think them through enough to be sure. But it was a choice I made. I could have made a different one, but I didn’t. I’m sorry for that.”

Cyzicus turned away from him, and laughed. Loudly, and for a long time.

“Don’t be so serious. It’s fine, you're forgiven, and don’t beat yourself up. It’s okay to act in the interest of your own safety. The gods know how often I do it.” He grinned,

“Thank-you.” Luke said earnestly. Feeling just a little lighter. Then fishing out the Rebel and the Warrior’s rings out of his pocket, he held them in the palms of his hands. “Um, while I have you here you, I have these…”

“You’re giving them to me?” Cyzicus grinned. His finger twitched and both of them flew into his hand.

“No!” Luke said hurriedly. “I mean… I was hoping you could open them. I’ve heard of people putting protection on them, but…”

A disappointed expression appeared on the Emperor’s face, and for a tense moment the man just stared at him.

“Sixty percent.” He said after a while. “I’ll do it for sixty percent of what’s in here.”

Luke opened and closed his mouth, doing a great impersonation of a fish.

“Five. I did kill her.”

“Fifty. I softened her up.”

“Ten. I went into her castle, and pulled it free from her while she was sleeping, and you're already rich.”

“Forty. You can’t get in here without me.”

“Fifteen.”

“Thirty-five. Who else is going to open it for you? And that’s plenty of wealth for you. More, and someone will rob you. Do you want to be robbed?”

“Twenty.”

The rings floated back from Cyzicus, and back to Luke.

“Thirty, or I walk, and you can try and find someone else to open them. Let me tell you kid, good luck with that.”

“We meet in the middle, twenty-five.”

Cyzicus began to inch away.

“Twenty-seven!” Luke called after him. He didn’t stop moving. “Fine! Thirty!”