A Vision user was only half as powerful without their treasures. Even this fact was true for Man.
“Why is it separated from you if it’s your so-called ‘catalyst,’ your most important treasure?” Burn inquired, a hint of genuine curiosity g his tone.
Man shrugged. “Three years ago, after Merlin stole my entire soul energy, eleported back here. I ented a and for her to return if I ever found myself in a pinch.”
Isaiah piped up, “When Nemo didst appear, I perceived it forthwith. As we didst agree, her visage doth signify mine obligation to remain here until thou grahe safe signal. Safeguarding our cherished treasure hath beimost priority.”
He gestured, and a s—a giant, transparent window—materialized in the high ceiling, revealing a giant crack stretg across the world of hermere.
“Soon after, the rift did ma in the void. I was pelled to bite mioo refrain from iigating thyself, for I trusted surely that Merlin, thou, or Master Vd had all matters well in hand.”
“Yet, a mere few hours hence, I received a telepathic transmission from Master Vd. He found thee, unscious in the frigid wilderness, whilst another assumed the role of a most pleasing weling ittee for those who emerged from the breach,” Isaiah turned his gaze toward Burn.
“Well done, Sword of Arthur,” the dragon said.
Isaiah shook his head, anger simmering just below the surface. “I was unaware, dear friend, that ’twas Merlin who chose to unleash his chaos upon thee and precipitated all those camities. Master Vd, too, was yet in ignorahus, we could but bide our time until thou didst regain sciousness.”
“I should have cast aside all and rushed to inquire after thine welfare…”
“You did right, Isaiah,” Man said, her tone dripping with a mix of praise and irony. “That was the right course of a. Clearly, you’re not to bme for this entire disaster.”
Now that Burn had acquired the plete picture, he could uand why everything had spiraled into chaos in the first timeline. Ah, the joys of hindsight.
Merlin’s a vely knocked Man out for a couple of years. Ierim, Burn took it upon himself to fend off the outsiders.
Three years ter, Burn killed Yvain—something that was pletely necessary in his eyes because Yvain himself refused to budge.
A’s not be too hard on Vd; he was kind of busy trying to save his church from mobs hell-bent on torg it, all while safeguarding his sensitive vampire unity. And don’t fet, Man was tucked away in the church’s basement, dying too.
It ainfully evident that Vd reoccupied with the sed prince of Wintersin’s little drama—pulled between keeping an army of God-worshiping vampires who were still hungry for blood in ched secretly guarding Man.
And after the delightful mess of three years caused by the outsiders, poor Vd found himself utterly incapable of reag out to rescue Yvain. Proving once again that sometimes, even the saviors have their hands tied.
At the same time, because of their agreement, Isaiah was fio the moon.
"One of the reasons you stayed here despite everything that happened ihermere was not only to guard our treasures… but also to guard—"
The door to the chamber behind Mnemosyne’s Aeons cracked open, revealing a truly unnerving sight: a giant, lifeless body of a bck dragon sprawled out in zy repose.
If it could stand on its back feet, it could tower at a terrifying 100 feet from back foot to head—minus the tail, which could probably clear a small vilge. It looked like it had decided to take aended power nap, blissfully unaware of its current predit. Dead.
Its scales glistened darkly, hinting at an uling sheen, as if it had bathed in the essence of despair itself while soaking up bad dreams as a midnight snack.
The wings, folded like the curtains of a morbid theater, loomed ominously beside it, while an expression that might have been regal if it weren't so deathly still creased its elongated snout.
While the body was undeniably devoid of life, it bore an unnerving freshness, as if it had been id to rest just a heartbeat ago.
Perhaps it was simply on a long vacation from life, dying to recim its throne of nightmares. In this moment, it seemed the dragon might just fly off to the horror show—if it hadn’t already called it quits food—
“My father, the Demon Lord,” Isaiah introduced, his voice heavy with gravity. “Nay, but a remnant of his once-mighty essence.”
This weighty truth was but half the rationale for his ceaseless vigil over the moon. It was the real reason he had to live here until today.
“Though his corporeal form no longer wields me remains the vessel of a Demon Lord. To remove it from the p, away from any sourana and corruption, is the wisest course,” Man said.
“Fuck,” Burn muttered. “I wanna roast it for dinner.”
At that, Isaiah nearly choked on his own saliva, while a gri aan’s face.
But lo, all these matters began to align within his uanding. The world had been thrown into chaos three years past, yet its dest had been a slow unraveling over the course of five turies.
Still, there remained souls like Man, Vd, and Isaiah, who bore the mantle of responsibility, endeav to mend the fraying seams of reality, bit by bit.
Until, as… betrayal.
“I have heard that thou art in want of a bde,” Isaiah suddenly said with a smile.
Burn’s ears perked up.
“Verily, I possess a colle of fine swords from which to choose,” the dragoedly lured Burn to follow him, and he was baited like a little boy promised a trip to a braoy store.
Oher hand, Man was left there, her face slowly frowning at the rift in the void over the world of hermere. “Nemo,” she called her catalyst, prompting it to float to her. “Calcute this equation for me.”
Mnemosyne’s Aeons started to glow, following Man’s orders.
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Lore!
