But like their struggle against the Imperial Kingdom, they carried on. They knew they couldn't let something like this stop them, they knew they had to get there. Even if their movement depended entirely upon their fingers and knees, they knew they had to head onward. It wasn't a matter to question, or even doubt, it was something that had to be done.
Calvin and Shinon, the only humans, might have to come to that, it seemed. Their bodies so very taxed by the air, feeling like a thief's hand reached into the pockets in their chests and robbed them blind of all oxygen. Soter and Raphael carried on, almost as though they weren't aware of that which was happening. Telvern, however, turned to them, looking back at their exhausted bodies. "What goes on with you?" he asked, appearing unfazed by the toxic air.
Calvin stood with his arm against the wall, it being the only thing keeping him from completely collapsing upon the floor. No, he couldn't just let go, he had to see these gods for himself. His face wiped with weakness, his breath haggard, his body drenched with sweat, the assassin turned up to Telvern. "...Don't worry 'bout me," he assured the genius, pushing himself off of the support of the wall.
Calvin then slowly carried his body onward, passing by the genius. Telvern's brown gaze then fell upon Shinon, who dropped down upon his knees. "And what about you?" Telvern then questioned, then crossed his arms. "So quick to submit, I see."
"...Just shut up," he angrily hissed, his frustrated tone almost demanding. After a long moment of regathering himself, the archer slowly pulled together. He rose back to his feet, looking ever onward. His footsteps forced himself forward, keeping his goals straight out in front of him. He had to be willing to do anything to reach them, even push him so far beyond the limit of his feeble human body.
It took a large deal of determination and conviction, but the taxing odyssey down the long, unforgiving hallway came to a close. Indeed, the group finally found themselves a hexagon-shaped room, enveloped by a static air and a large presence of light. In the center of the room stood a small adamas pillar, and just hovering above that pillar was an immense force.
A ball of light floating above the pillar, its body bellowing, swirling, pulsing with power. It was a massive plethora of colors, but its primary was blue. Its luminous, shimmering breath cast down upon all before it. Soter humbly fell upon the ground, his head low and his knees digging into the hexagon floor. "My lords," he spoke with the utmost respect. "The Resistance, as you requested."
None of those from the world of Gielinor even so much as thought about bowing, a show of disrespect to these beings. The group could then just feel like they were being examined, scanned like a product. "Welcome to our beloved Solasúila, members of the Resistance," greeted the light, its voice like many voices -- both of men and women -- speaking at the same time. "As we are confident to believe, our envoy has surely given the reason for your appearance here today."
Everyone gazed up upon this light, some more intensely than others. Calvin leaned his back against the wall, crossed his arms and glaring heavily. He had to peel his ears, listen closely to what they had to say. The genius stepped forward beyond the pack, drawing closer to the light truly like he were a moth to a flame. "Indeed," confirmed Telvern. "Might I ask why?"
"Be still and listen," demanded the voice. "Soter has told us well of your struggles against the ungrateful children. We have requested your appearance so that we might communicate in regards to that subject."
""The ungrateful children"?" quoted Shinon, raising his eyebrow. "You mean the gods?"
"That is a mere label that they proclaim themselves," the thousand-tongued being clarified. "They've come not near to live up to such an absurd claim."
"So, what of them?" asked the genius. "What do our struggles have to do with you, the Elder Gods?"
"Nothing and everything," they replied. "Think not that we concern ourselves with your causes to break free from the shackles, humans. The suffering of lowly creatures has little thought upon our minds. However, we concern ourselves with your enemies, those who put
on
the shackles."
The beings of light took time to gather thoughts, readying words to be put properly in place. Those of Lumbridge and beyond waited impatiently for the light to speak, but they could feel as the time steadily approached. "The Solasúians were once gentle, obedient children," the voices explained. "We guided their fates for many millennia, ensuring that they not stray from their path. They served us, spoke not a word against us. We saw that, we were not unkind to them. For their loyalty, they were rewarded with everything their hearts could possibly desire. Much akin to that of their fantasized 'Utopia', they were given a world teeming with prosperity, bliss, and placidity."
"What changed?" Calvin asked.
"Despite this plenteous, empyreal world we had selflessly given, for one, it was not enough," they went on. "A man with an ego as large as the kingdom we bequeathed to him, thicker than even the adamas that encases the castles and streets of which he inherited."
"King Dias Pallas Barn," the genius then took a guess, a guess that he knew couldn't possibly be incorrect.
"Dias was always a defiant, ignorant fool," the voice spoke, their tone disappointed. "Even within this present time, the ungrateful children still act as though he lives among them, praising his name as though he were a sort of higher being. His deluded aspirations cast like wool over their eyes, blinding them from the real truth of it all. Despite what history has made him out to be, Dias was not a man cast out from the stone of gallantry. He was a dastardly child, a being intoxicated by the feeling of absolute power."
"I'm not surprised to hear that," Telvern commented as the voices took a moment to gather their thoughts.
"Declaring that his reign will be "different," he sets his eyes upon his first major conquest," the light told. "That was to the Neheztelian capital of Fargaze, to Lamiaquil'a and her children. He judged them unfit for a world like his mind envisioned, desiring all be pulled under
his
fingers, his and no other. He took sharpened adamas over to them, not even giving them the slightest warning. He slaughtered them all without quarter, peaceful, innocent creatures who knew not how to fight. The ungrateful children not far from his side, following eagerly in his stead. The Neheztelians were devastated, butchered, and we lament everyday over their lost."
"Well, why didn't ya stop it?" asked Calvin, his tongue ireful. "Yer the Elder Gods, the all-powerful creators-a life, ain't ya?"
"...We have begun to face what we all must one day," they responded with a somber vocal tone.
"So, even the Elder Gods themselves ain't invincible, eh?"
"It is the sole reason why the adamas cracks under your feet," the army of voices said. "It is because this world too begins to succumb to its demise, its life ending rapidly. For countless years, Solasúila has been nourished by our anima. It's become so dependent upon us that it can no longer support itself properly, cannot create energy on its own. And so, now that its supporter needs all of its energy to simply sustain itself, the world begins to die."
Telvern looked down, clenching his chin with his left hand. "I see," the genius commented, nodding his head. "how intriguing."
The genius rose his head, looking back up at the glowing, throbbing ball of light -- one that seemed almost like it impatiently awaited its time to speak. "So, Lord Dias helmed the infamous Neheztelian Genocide," Telvern assessed. "Then what?"
"Death," the voices spoke a single word, and that was all that was truly needed. "Our eyes were forced opened as though pinned to our heads, forced to watch as Dias felled any and all who spoke against him, spoke ill of his reign. Some did speak and question, but none saw the rise and fall of the twins of the sky if they did. We turned our eyes away, not wanting to see, but we couldn't escape its view. We demanded he cease his ways, but he simply guffawed at us --
we
who gave him and his kind life."
In the back, everyone could hear as a amused chuckle broke out from someone's lips. "Well, well," said a familiar voice, the red-haired archer in the back. "Looks like we know now where Balor got it from."
"As we communed with him, Dias then announced something to us," the voices from the light continued to tell. "He declared his plans for the future of the Solasúian race, for
his
future as their ruler. He claimed to no longer desire us, no longer desire this world. He wanted to build a world in his own image, not wanting a kingdom inherited but one created. And so, he explained the designs of his plan, his eyes nestled upon a world he knew as our grandest creation..."
"Gielinor," the genius named, knowing well where this was heading.
"He wanted freedom for his kind, for his people," the voices went on. "He forsook this world -- this Solasúila -- on this foolhardy, arrogant campaign, heading to Gielinor to find so-called 'independence.' Even as we delivered him a stern warning, told him that he shall be the taker of his own life, he continued onward. Clinging as an infant to its mother, the ungrateful children followed in his stead, claiming their cause out of loyalty and adoration for their king. But is that why a child feeds, out of loyalty and love for its mother? No... A child feeds for no higher purpose other than because it simply needs to be fed, because it is incapable of satisfying itself. Similarly so to how the ungrateful children follow for no higher purpose other than because they simply need to follow, because
they
are incapable obtaining their dreams themselves. And just as a mother is the only one who is the only one capable of delivering nourishment to an infant, a king and queen are the only ones capable of delivering to them their 'Utopia.'"
"It's the unfortunate fate of any king and queen of our race," Telvern believed, crossing his arms. "I suppose that's why Lord Divus tried to break the cycle."
"That was the last we saw of them," the large, confounding body of light claimed. "Him and the ungrateful children slaughtered all in their wake, caring not that those they slew carried families and pain of their own construction... And we could feel it, feel as their blades rippled through their flesh and severed their lives. It became clear to us that this was not a quest nor a pursuit, but a crusade. Not one to grasp freedom, but to grasp
power,
to augment the selfdom of a man who demanded his subjects refer to him as the "Hero King.""
As the those beings' spoke with a aggressive voice in regards to Dias, Raphael's lowered head pulled upwards. He no longer desired to hide his face, wanting to chime in with his two cents. "Why drag us all the way here to tell us all of this?" Raphael's voice suddenly popped into the conversation, turning his attention to the seemingly higher beings. "What is it that you want from us? Get to the point."
"After the ungrateful children took Gielinor as their own, we attempted many times to communicate with them," they informed the group. "And now, as we feel the pain and suffering of every human, feel as our world shifts and shakes, we think it best that we step in and... correct this imbalance."
Raphael then felt a beam of attention fall down upon him with the focus of a laser, searing through him with such intensity. "Raphael Divus Barn," the voices named in earnest. "we would desire you to be become our true son, the all-deciding hand of the Elder Gods. The hand that would destroy them, showcase our righteous fury, send a message that they shall never forget."
"Hold a moment," Telvern then pleaded. "are you suggesting that he... commit an act of genocide?"
"Yes," the voices made a simple one-worded reply, confirming what Telvern feared. "It has been his destiny since his beginning, since his very first moments within the womb. It is a fate we bestowed upon him, a purpose we gave to him with our love."
Almost everyone literally reacted in the exact same fashion, their jaws dropping down to their feet and their eyelids pulling far back. An absolutely stunned, speechless silence plastered all over them, ceasing all voices. An irritating ringing appeared in everyone's ears due to the silence, playing off like the sound of soundlessness, of nothingness.
There were then a few stumbles of noise, people trying to get out what they wanted to say, but it was just that: noise. It took almost a whole minute or even a few for the group to even begin to digest this task given, to even fathom what it was that these seemingly higher beings placed upon the young man. To massacre an entire race, where could one even begin to justify that? They finally began to process the information, and it was quite a mixed reaction.
Telvern's reaction was of that of extreme questioning, glaring up at the ball of light with a beaming look of his own. "That's completely absurd," the genius strongly spoke against, shaking his head. "You cannot possibly ask something so ridiculous as slaughtering an entire race, especially of a single man. And even if we were to aid him, we've maybe a hundred to our cause, and that's if we're fortunate. Our ranks are far too thin to even think of taking out Governanti, let alone the entire race."
"We do not ask, we
expect,
" the voices angrily corrected. "We selflessly gave you life, built you a world from our very own bodies. All we ask from you is that you fulfill your duty bound to you by birth, as our beloved child. You must bring relief to those who suffer, stop them before they completely destroy that beautiful world, before they kill off all of your kind."
"You've yet answered the question," the genius pointed out. "How is a single man meant to take on millions of people?"
"We would be willing to offer him our power," the light then gave clarity to their schemes.
"Whatever happened to conserving energy at all costs?"
"It is spare energy we have built up over the years to serve this very purpose," the choir of voices returned. "As we have told you, we have many times attempted to reach out to the ungrateful children. Asking of Raphael Divus Barn to kill them would not be the first try, but the first true. We originally created a being to serve this purpose, but he was but a prototype, a failed experiment. Such things weren't without progression, and his death truly was progression, for we now know that a mortal body can withstand our power."
From the back, Calvin stomped his foot down upon the metal floor. "No," the assassin lashed his opinion with ire, taking up arms of fury towards the voices. His face gripped with anger to express his views, swinging his left hand from the right to the left. "killin' 'em ain't the solution!"
Telvern looked over at the assassin. "For once, I'm inclined to agree with him," he truly did believe, looking back at the light. "If you truly are the Elder Gods of legend, you -- and especially you -- must realize the type of atrocity you're requesting be carried out. You're their creators, how could you possibly desire their deaths?"
"You all got a brighter idea?" asked the archer from behind Telvern and Calvin, causing the two to pull their attention back to him. "Use your heads for a sec."
"At least I can," Shinon riposted, honing his harsh glance upon the genius. "Think about it, gods do nothing but murder, steal, and abuse. They obviously don't care about us, they see us only as opportunity to reap and tools to satisfy them. Hell, look at you, they tried to kill you and you're one of 'em. It just goes to show that they don't even care if they have to kill a member of their kind, it's all about whatever benefits
them!
They've killed so many people, brought to ruin so many different races. Why the hell should a buncha scumbags like that be allowed to live? I say it's time they get a taste of their own medicine."
"We ain't gonna profit anythin' from dat," Calvin responded, then he began shaking his head. "Yer just lettin' yaself become what ya 'ate, an' we shouldn't allow the cause ta take a backseat ta dat."
"Who said anything like that?" Shinon asked, his voice sounding like a mixture of laughter and question. "Besides, wouldn't "the cause" benefit with the gods getting killed off? You know, go back to the good ol' pre-god era when everyone was
happy
and
not
being enslaved?"
"Such a thing can never return," the genius then commented, giving an opinion.
"Neither can equality," the archer quickly spoke back. "So long as you've got them running around, you never gonna have your equality. To get that, you'd have to change their ways of thinking, their very nature. And if you're planning on doing that, heh... Good luck, I'll see you at your funeral."
The heated discussion continued between those still standing, and as it did, the silver-haired young man knew he had quite the decision on his hands. After his shock withdrew, Raphael had his eyes closed and his head lowered. His mind had become cloistered, closed off from the world. He had to debate many things, wrestle with thoughts of both purity and blackness.
