The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop

To Orodan’s Vision of Purity, everything was dirty, thus he could see it all.

Consequently, the subtle but furious twitch of his foe’s eyes was quite apparent even through all the illusory spellcraft they’d laid upon themselves.

It was the only indicator about the impending violence to come that they gave off.

The very first thing he felt…

…was a mental attack.

[Psionic Resistance 79 → Psionic Resistance 81]

It was strong, fueled by System energy too, telling in how he gained two levels in Psionic Resistance as a result.

Orodan lowered himself to a knee as it came, a hand outstretched and touching the ground to help steady himself.

The following barrage of hundreds of restraining spells came forth, each composed of energy so pure that Vision of Purity simply couldn’t have caught it before his recent training of the skill.

More restraining spells came forth, layering over him one after another, securely holding him in place. Until finally, his opponent spoke.

“You speak dangerous words, otherworlder. You will tell me what you mean by them, or I shall tear it from your mind.”

Their voice, sounding both male and female, monstrous and human, echoed outwards. Yet Orodan knew these were illusionary spells meant to mask their identity.

“I’ve already told you what I know,” Orodan replied. “I’m the current time looper, while you’re the previous one, aren’t you?”

The subtle tells of anger were evident enough, even though the being before him was just a clone. He would have to learn that skill… it seemed quite useful.

“A cursory bit of knowledge anyone with enough time here could have picked out. But your claims are the more outrageous one. Before… you piqued my curiosity, but now? You have my undivided attention.”

“Since when? What gave me away?” Orodan said, shattering a few more restraining spells, yet even more began layering on top, one over the other.

“The corrupt nature of the inquisition… the Prophet’s infiltration of this world with its agents? Did you truly think I knew not of it? That anyone drawing from the divine dimension of light faces corruption?” they asked, mockery in their tone. “The inquisition was only corrupt… because I allowed it to be.”

Which meant that his initial entry to Lonvoron at least had been successful. He took some solace in knowing that this wily and paranoid foe wasn’t entirely omniscient.

“You’re aiding the Eldritch? That doesn’t sound right,” Orodan muttered.

“Not aiding, delaying, lulling them into a false sense of superiority. If Lonvoron and the Collective are too successful in beating back the Eldritch, then the circling predator commanding them will descend before my preparations are complete. With what I possess… defeating even an Administrator is not impossible,” they stated. “But you… you are an anomaly. As is that boy you train, to think I’d overlooked such raw talent… was it he who caused the Prophet to recoil before I arrived? No matter, I have asked too many questions when a simple delve into your mind will suffice.”

“Tearing into peoples’ minds without thought or care isn’t the nicest thing to do,” Orodan replied. “Is that why all the Transcendents I’ve seen have spells surrounding them? Bit of a controlling tyrant, aren’t you?”

That must have struck a nerve.

If one mental assault was bad, then ten at the same time was even worse. Nine more clones of his opponent came into being, not layered with the same amount of spells as the main one was, but capable of launching an offensive with nearly similar power.

[Psionic Resistance 81 → Psionic Resistance 83]

Orodan’s mind came under assault from an utter deluge of psionic might. A tide capable of making entire worlds bow before the caster. A wave unending, a force unrelenting.

Or… it should have been.

The previous time looper realized something was wrong when Orodan had no signs of exertion upon his face whatsoever.

Unlike before, when they felt confident in their superiority, there were no more words said. And on his end, none were needed either as he’d finally seen it. The threads of connection between this main clone and the caster.

And he was done holding back and pretending to be restrained.

[Deception 5 → Deception 10]

“You mentioned lulling the Eldritch into a false sense of superiority… a bit ironic given the circumstances, don’t you think?”

Both his arms flexed with a level of raw might capable of shattering moons, and the restraining spellcraft attempting to keep him subdued immediately faltered with an explosion.

His foe was smart, immediately opting to gain distance, but it was too late. Orodan’s next move was to throw the full force of his soul towards a singular spell.

The clones weren’t his target.

The main body was.

[Dimensional Step 34 → Dimensional Step 36]

[Dimensionalism 87 → Dimensionalism 88]

Of course a paranoid time looper would have defenses against dimensional intrusions. Thousands of them in fact. They were good, very good. But… only almost as good as Talricto. And Orodan had been learning from the very best for a while now.

There were layers upon layers of dimensional defences, yet they were slipped past, fooled and feinted into triggering early as Orodan pulled out the numerous tricks and moves he’d picked up from all the spars against his dimensional spider friend. And the remaining defenses past that?

Brute force and the sheer amount of soul energy he poured into the Dimensional Step sufficed.

He stepped out into a blank white void… a pocket dimension? Yes, that was it.

Vision of Purity told him it was anchored to someplace quite swampy and full of bogs too.

Most importantly though, at the center of this blank white void was a singular humanoid being, covered in all manner of obscuring and defensive spellcraft, and wearing a robe which utterly overflowed with System energy. And as Orodan looked at them, he pointed his blade forward and said only two words.

“Found you.”

For a brief moment the pocket dimension trembled, and then calamity occurred as it outright shattered. The shockwave of the explosion spread outwards for miles, threatening to reach even a nearby village with simple tribes folk within until a hasty Spatial Fold all around the circumference of it redirected the damage upwards.

The clouds parted from the sheer force of the dimensional eruption he’d redirected up.

“That would have killed a lot of people,” Orodan stated.

“You pushed me to this. Long have I protected the simple and innocent folk of the bog islands before your arrival, and long will I continue to do the same.”

“I pushed you to do nothing. Your jump towards attacking me at the utterance of mere words is a choice made of your own accord,” Orodan reminded. “But if it’s violence you want… it is violence you shall receive.”

The damage and unraveling of the pocket dimension had of course come from the summoning of an entire legion of thousands of mana constructs, spatial and dimensional rifts, and the recall of all his foe’s clones.

“Orodan, they’re quite strong and have plenty of tricks up their sleeve. I only barely ended up matching them last time by awakening the full power of my Bloodline skill and overdrawing upon my soul,” Zaessythra said. “And back then they weren’t nearly as paranoid or prepared as they are now. But… I can advise you of some of their abilities…”

Right, he’d almost forgotten that Zaessythra had fought the previous looper in the long loop where he’d empowered the loops for himself and descended unto the full depths of his Celestial skill.

A voice echoed from all around and the clones began frequently teleporting and swapping spots with the main body, making it difficult to pinpoint which one his target was. Yet for Orodan who could see perfectly with Vision of Purity, keeping his eye on the main body wasn’t an issue.

Upon realizing this, the previous looper stopped trying.

“How can you keep track of me? That should not be possible.”

“Beat me and I’ll tell you,” Orodan replied. “We’ve bandied words enough.”

For too long had Orodan hidden in the shadows like some skulking rodent. To sneak and hide was a particular way of doing things, useful too, not just for remaining hidden but for giving him insights into certain things. But, it wasn’t his way.

He was a warrior.

And for almost the entirety of this loop, he hadn’t had a proper battle. Until now.

A manic grin of madness emerged upon his face. The signs were subtle… but he could swear his quarry was briefly taken aback at the sight of it.

Three loud clangs echoed through the air, crisp and challenging in their bark. Orodan’s sword rapped against the boss of his shield in a defiant gesture, inviting his foe to come for him.

Time looper against time looper. This would be a fight for the ages.

His foe had a connection between themselves and the world core of Lonvoron. Orodan could sense the titanic amounts of energy suddenly being supplied as a strange film of material descended upon the entire battlefield. It was a dimensional boundary, but a weird one.

And suddenly…

…the entire battlefield changed. Or rather, the swampy bog islands they were upon became utterly devoid of life. Not that anything had been killed, but rather, Orodan and his opponent had moved someplace.

What was this place?

“Do you like it, Orodan Wainwright? An interesting dimension which closely mirrors the material plane. The dead often pass through here very briefly just before entering the soul nexus,” the previous looper explained. “No risk of anyone else being caught up in this battle now.”

“Good, I need not worry about letting loose then,” Orodan replied.

He charged the legion of constructs, and they in turn charged him as a devastating melee began.

The largest of the constructs were hulking blue knights reminiscent of the standard steam knights of the Collective. Transcendent-level though, and looking far sturdier than their metallic and steam-powered counterparts. Furthermore, they had small glowing orbs flitting about them.

“The wisps of mana coming off them explode, be careful.”

Orodan carved the first three apart, and as Zaessythra warned, the wisps immediately glowed to try exploding upon death, but Orodan’s sword arm was too fast! He simply cut each individual wisp down before it could prime to explode.

“A swordsman? It will avail you not. I have observed your spars and battles. That spider companion of yours is quite alert, but when apart from it, you’re not so difficult to spy upon. I have catalogued the skills, weaknesses and battle abilities of millions upon millions of beings. Your brutish strength and straightforward mentality are nothing that cannot be overcome,” their distorted voice echoed. “I’ve dealt with warriors aplenty. Do you truly think yourself capable of beating me within my seat of power?”

“And yet, despite all that studying you still fear the Administrator who chases you. Knowledge is worthless without the strength to make use of it,” Orodan fired back. “You say you’ve studied millions of warriors and their weaknesses? Good… I want the weaknesses in my own form tested.”

More ethereal constructs of mana came his way. Alongside the mana knights which produced exploding wisps, there were also blue lions which swiftly tried lunging in, flying eagles which assailed him from the air and even moles which clawed through the ground in their attempts to get at him.

Furthermore, the mana constructs weren’t the only thing he had to worry about in this place. It was a weird mirror of the real world here, and it shouldn’t have surprised him that creatures which mirrored those in the real world also existed here. But the surprising part was just what the creature tried mirroring… or who.

Uncanny, that was how Orodan would describe the creature. It certainly looked like him in many aspects. Tunic of the county militia, sword and shield, a physique and figure that were similar enough too. But the face, the eyes, the nose… none of what made Orodan himself existed within this twisted imitator who gave him a happy smile and rushed towards him.

Orodan greeted his copycat with a crushing punch which folded its nose inwards and shattered its skull, sending black ichor spewing about.

“The denizens of the mirror realm are pitiable creatures… able to only forlornly watch through the cracks and crevices as those in the real world live their lives. When a fresh soul like you comes along, an intruder… they get hungry. They want your life, your skin… your very soul.”

“They say imitation is the greatest form of flattery… but these things are neither good at imitation, nor am I overly flattered. My soul might be a meal too heavy for these creatures” Orodan said, carving more of his replicas apart. Because of course there was more than one of them. “I’m going to give you a good punch in the face at the end of this.”

“A bold claim, but a premature one. Lest you forget… you fight more than just my summoned legions.”

The real threat was of course, the previous looper themselves. And he soon came to realize what for as twenty clones of his foe were conjured, and together they activated an array at whose center was Orodan, bogged down in melee by the army charging him.

“Your mind is strong… but how long can it last against the will of multiple worlds? No mortal can.”

And Orodan felt an oppressive wave of mental assault smash into his mind. It was of intensity enough that he had to pause his fight for the briefest of moments, allowing some attacks to get through and hit him.

[Psionic Resistance 83 → Psionic Resistance 86]

Ethereal mana blades bounced off his skin, repelled by his Mana Resistance. Wisps exploded upon him, having a similarly ineffective impact, and the creatures which mimicked him found their swords and shields simply glancing off, too weak to harm his tough flesh.

And the surface-level marks left by the strongest of these attacks? They healed instantly.

The seconds ticked on, and he gained two more levels in Psionic Resistance as the wills of thirty-six separate worlds crashed into his mind.

It was a frightening level of power and coordination, and he could now see just how strong this previous looper was. It was a network of all the world cores under the Blackworth Collective’s purview, and here, within the seat of their strength, his foe could access the power of them all.

No mortal should have been capable of withstanding such an assault. Even Transcendents of mental combat could at best evade and avoid the assault, not dare to take it on directly.

Of course… the previous looper’s foe this time was no ordinary man.

Seconds turned to minutes, and world cores began to tremble from the exertion; their willpower up against something unfathomable. Planetary consciousnesses which were unused to ever being challenged in their supremacy felt the notion of limits for the first time in their long lives.

“I-impossible… what are you?”

It was the first time since the battle began that he’d heard doubt in their voice… and fear.

A cleaving slash rid his personal space of the chaff attempting to gnaw at him as he met his foe’s eyes through all the illusory veils.

“I thought you observed my spars and battles? Should you not know all of my capabilities then?” Orodan tauntingly asked. “Ah, I see. You must have been under the impression that the fight against those Gods and my training of Fenton were the extent of my strength. Come, let me help fill the gaps in your knowledge.”

Knowledge was power, information was strength. His bumbling attempts at remaining stealthy, while ineffective at remaining undetected entirely, did serve the purpose of hiding the true extent of his strength. Orodan had to grudgingly admit… if he just shut his mouth and hid his might on all his loops, he would likely have a serious advantage against a lot of his opponents through virtue of them being unprepared to face someone with unbreakable will and endless power generation.

“I see… regrettable that capture will not be possible then.”

Those words were the only indicator Orodan had before the Administrator’s Mantle his foe wore began glowing brightly. The amount of System energy coursing through it was titanic and if given enough time to charge up, would certainly kill him if it struck. Something he could not allow as this long loop had goals remaining.

[Dimensional Step 36 → Dimensional Step 37]

He could see why the previous looper had brought him to this alternate dimension. The very boundary of it was layered with traps and defences meant to prevent dimensional travel. Of course, these were deftly avoided by his current skill and finesse in the art.

He stepped out, right next to the main body. Of course, it was ready, and a prepared array activated shunting his target backwards.

A volley of lethal magic shot towards him, a diverse and colorful barrage composed of almost every element he could think of.

“Ignore all of them except the light and darkness spells, your resistances can handle the rest,” Zaessythra advised.

The entirety of Lonvoron in the mirror world shattered, the planet destroyed by the power of his foe’s elemental barrage. Following Zaessythra’s advice, Orodan simply ignored the elements he had resistances for and instead shot out his own volley of Draconic Fireballs towards the previous looper.

These intercepted the light and darkness spells, causing a shockwave which blew the ruined debris field of the planet away, leaving just the void of this alternate dimension for them to fight in.

“Elemental resistances?! Was it Bloodline splicing? Soul devouring? Ritual sacrifice?” they demanded flying backwards while desperately trying to avoid him in melee.

“No… just death after death in the pursuit of strength,” Orodan said shattering another layer of prepared dimensional defences as he traveled directly to them once more.

Further spellfire was exchanged as Orodan began closing the distance. Yet, as he did, it was as though his opponent unerringly knew what he would do and what actions he would take.

A glimpse at the brief tinge of gold lighting up the previous looper’s eyes confirmed what was occurring.

“Reading my fate are you?” Orodan asked.

“Like an open book, any moves you make, I’ve prepared for ahead of time.”

“Prepare for this then.”

His mind split and fractured, each cell thinking different thoughts in a mad cacophony of mental insanity. Yet amidst this chaos, Orodan thrived, even as his opponent began struggling as they were unable to read his actions. One moment his cells wanted to launch fireballs, the next they instead cast high-powered Galewinds. Half of them wanted to throw a knee, the other half wanted him to deliver a thrust of the blade.

Furthermore, his opponent was a mage of great power who had plenty of spells in reserve, floating in the void, ready to fire at their command. Orodan simply roared…

[Commandment of War 49 → Commandment of War 50]

…and summoned the spells’ innate desire to target him, early. These spells which were meant to strike at opportune moments instead fired prematurely, throwing the previous looper’s combat rhythm off.

Good at preparation and tactics, bad at adapting on the fly and raw combat. Orodan’s unpredictable nature caused his foe to struggle. And this struggle and the panic and mental pressure of fighting a superior opponent caused them to make minor mistakes.

Minor errors which added up to openings. A series of spells were cast at the wrong angle, and Orodan took advantage of this to teleport directly next to his foe’s main body, ignoring the clones outright.

This time there were no countermeasures, only the desperate gathering of numerous clones with defensive shields. Yet these availed his opponent not as Orodan’s Smite of Abrupt Deliverance focused unto his fist tore right through eight of the clones and impacted solidly against their sternum.

The barriers were strong, very strong. In defensive magic at least, he might even pronounce them at the Embodiment-level. Yet the damage had been felt all the same as a grunt of pain and surprise echoed out and the previous looper was sent flying back.

“Tch! Your savagery and brutish fists will not be enough! Fleets of the Blackworth Collective! Aid me!”

Dimensional rifts leading to the material plane opened up, and in flew thousands of voidcraft with lethal weaponry. The soldiers within these ships looked as though they’d been plucked from the midst of a battle elsewhere and dragged in. In fact, it looked as though they were chasing someone.

But who?

Orodan had that question answered as a familiar critter sailed through the void of this alternate dimension, skipping about with dimensional steps while nimbly evading pursuers. His palm could only meet his face as he shook his head in disbelief.

“How have you managed to have the entirety of the Collective’s fleets after you?” Orodan asked as Talricto blazed past him. Orodan’s eyes narrowed. “Is… is that a crown on your head?”

“Do not blame me for the inadequacies of the King’s personal guard. He was practically asking me to take it,” Talricto imperiously said. “I see you’re in the midst of a hectic battle yourself. How about we mutually aid one another? Deal with the fleet, and I shall help with your foe.”

Orodan felt the aid unnecessary, but decided to bail his least favorite dimensional spider out of trouble. He teleported to the nearest massive carrier ship which looked the most threatening.

“Enemy on-board! I repeat! Enemy on-board! Send interceptors! Do it-”

The response was too late as Orodan’s hand gripped the sturdiest part of the ship… and hurled it through an open dimensional rift like a javelin. The ships and their crew were designed for such fast travel, so he had no doubt that they’d be fine if a bit disoriented

Swiftly, he jumped from ship to ship, throwing the largest and most threatening ones back through open rifts conjured by Talricto.

All throughout this, the clones of the previous looper continued harrying him with spells, seeking to prevent him throwing their reinforcements out of the battlefield. Yet, Talricto didn’t sit idle either. The dimensional spider performed some strange maneuvers and began throwing the clones out of the battlefield entirely.

Whatever the spider did was quite detrimental and inconvenient, as his foe couldn’t resummon the clones as a result. More than a third of the previous looper’s clones were tossed out the battlefield before they turned their full fury towards Talricto.

“A little help Orodan!” the spider demanded, as it began desperately avoiding an elemental barrage and fleeing a summoned legion of mana constructs.

With most of the threatening voidships gone, Orodan’s fists began shattering the mana constructs and his Draconic Fireballs intercepted the elemental barrage. Furthermore, the previous looper now began pulling out all the stops.

Chronomancy was used to skip their spells backwards and compress their spells travel forwards, leading to erratic projectile timings he had to pay more attention to. Spatiomancy was brought to the fore in order to summon beasts and creatures of the void as further reinforcements, and while all this was done, his opponent looked as though they had made up their mind at last…

“You are an anomaly best not faced head-on. Expect frequent visits when you least expect it… farewell, Orodan Wainwright.”

…and began fleeing!

“Craven! Return this instant and face me!” Orodan yelled, giving chase.

He was livid, but could understand the decision. Charging the Mantle up to an extent where it would kill him would take time. Time he didn’t intend on giving them.

Just as it seemed his foe would cross the dimensional boundary to escape, he felt the familiar sensation of dimensional force that had trounced him a few times too many over the last four months.

It was a lot of power for the little spider, and Orodan felt a rather powerful drain through the thread of connection between his soul and the Blessing he’d granted. With finesse and skill he was still far from matching, Talricto conjured a deluge of dimensional web… and threw it all across the battlefield.

The placement looked quite random, yet it was anything but.

“Insect! You’ve sealed us in! I shall exterminate your kind once I am done this battle!” the previous looper angrily declared. “And you… far too many abilities have you revealed today, but I shall not simply roll over and submit just because the wretched System has cast me aside.”

In hindsight Orodan had to admit it, his attempts at remaining clandestine were certainly full of error. Little wonder nobody had come to bother him after the battle and during the month he’d spent in Storven. The previous looper had their eye on him all along.

And yet, despite his botched attempt at remaining under their notice… Orodan was starting to realize how powerful information was. The fact that he hadn’t gone around blurting out the fact that he was a time looper until now meant that he had his foe at a disadvantage. Furthermore, many of his abilities, the previous looper simply didn’t expect and consequently was having to adapt to on the fly.

Orodan decided, it was best to waste no more time. His opponent was still charging the Administrator’s Mantle they wore, in a few more minutes, it would get to a level where it would kill him.

He closed the distance, and his enemy’s clones got in his way. They tried conjuring elemental weaponry and striking him, or even casting spells at point blank range in suicidal assaults, yet it was to no avail. Orodan’s skill in combat was superior, and his melee prowess undeniable.

Blades of light and darkness were deftly parried, evaded and countered with ripostes while point-blank spells were redirected via wrist deflections and grabs into other clones, causing them to die from their own friendly fire.

“That part of their barrier… it’s the weakest. I had success hitting them there last time,” Zaessythra said, mentally directing Orodan’s attention towards a particular segment. She was right, it was where the energy flows intersected weakly… he might not have noticed in time.

He could see his foe’s eyes widen in terror as his fist glowed with raw power. This time, knowing that they could take it… there would be no holding back. Still, they weren’t defenseless either.

The System energy, gathered over all this time in the Administrator’s Mantle they wore, was unleashed in the form of a singularly destructive beam of power.

A Candleflame was conjured in his fist, the power quickly spiraling upwards until his body could barely take the heat even with Fire Resistance. And then, having now learned how to dimensionally control the force better, he unleashed it not with a finger snap…

…but a punch.

[Dimensionalism 88 → Dimensionalism 89]

[Fire Resistance 66 → Fire Resistance 68]

[Mana Manipulation 65 → Mana Manipulation 66]

[Candleflame 41 → Candleflame 42]

[Mana Resistance 67 → Mana Resistance 68]

[Fire Magic Mastery 60 → Fire Magic Mastery 61]

Doom and the ending of the mirror dimension occurred as the two attacks collided. Any lingering mana constructs, mimicking creatures and creatures of the void were instantly eradicated by the shockwave.

Orodan’s arm nearly vaporized, reduced to flecks of charred ash and carbonized bone, and yet… it was his attack that won the clash.

Orodan sallied forwards with his punch, overpowering the beam and connecting with a world-ending impact upon the previous looper’s face. His fist carried them with as he continued forth.

The boundaries of the mirror dimension were shattered around them, and they were sailing through the void of the material plane as Orodan’s fist remained connected to his opponent’s face. They flew downwards… straight for Lonvoron and the royal citadel of Storven.

He felt two hands tightly wrap around his wrist, desperately draining life force from him.

This, he allowed, opting not to put an end to it through his own vitality manipulation abilities. He had enough life force to go around, and his opponent didn’t seem to be doing too well.

The clouds parted as they entered the atmosphere, and with pinpoint accuracy, Orodan hurled the previous looper down upon the citadel’s roof, sending them skipping like a stone across the hard granite surface. When they came to a stop, they were limp for a moment, knocked out cold.

A deep gasp of air broke the silence, and his fallen foe rose to their feet shakily, inhaling great gulps of air and looking very dazed. The protective and illusory spells surrounding them were failing but still present, and through the flickering illusions he could see pale and horrifyingly sickly skin, the remnants of a tattered and opulent dress, and a physical form which was frail… far too frail.

“I have many more contingencies in place, spells which will trigger upon my death, allies that will know once I am slain,” they said, but the spells surrounding their voice began failing and Orodan considered that it might well be a her. “You will not leave Lonvoron alive.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. You were a time looper, you know as well as I that these loops don’t conclude with us alive at the end of them,” Orodan said, and then he smiled. “But… I did at least get to give you a good punch in the face as I said I would.”

“And though this may well end me… the Mantle can be charged fully at great cost of one’s sanity. It only requires… embracing the Eldritch,” she said as the power began to flow through her once more. “This… is not over.”

Orodan however, consider it finished then and there. Especially as the Administrator’s Mantle began wildly charging with energy. System energy was derived from the very thing which empowered the System. At root, it came from the Boundless One at the heart of it all, it was Eldritch.

As the power of the plague began corrupting her… he needed only one thing.

The broom which was produced from his dimensional ring.

Broom met System energy, yet it wouldn’t be enough! The amount of energy in that desperate beam was simply too strong. He would end the fight, but would likely die himself.

Or he would have… if Orodan hadn’t been training Vision of Purity all this time through one very important method.

Seeing everything as dirty.

If everything was dirty, than anything could be cleaned. System energy, spellcraft, his enemies… they could all be eradicated through the power of Domain of Perfect Cleaning.

And as his broom pushed forward, empowered by the light of his soul, it targeted two things. The System energy beam which threatened to kill him and possibly destroy multiple star systems. And the thousands of spells woven over the woman who was so hell bent on killing him.

[Domain of Perfect Cleaning 149 → Domain of Perfect Cleaning 150]

[Reality Alteration 57 → Reality Alteration 60]

The beam of System energy was utterly eradicated, as was the plague and the thousands of spells covering the previous looper.

And with it…

…Orodan reached the peak of Transcendence.

“Even I can sense the change in the air… the very fabric of existence is shifting…” Zaessythra muttered.

She wasn’t wrong. He could sense the tapestry of fate going haywire in a way the shield around his fate simply couldn’t prevent. It was as though existence naturally warped and went crazy with that singular skill level gain. All around, in the city of Storven, he felt the Systems within every single individual, animal and monster tremble.

As though reality itself was heralding something. How far out this phenomenon went he didn’t know.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure if any other peak-Transcendent could cause such a stir by gaining a single level. But then again, Orodan was the most talented cleaner in System space. Perhaps reality itself could sense he was more than capable of achieving Embodiment?

In any case… this would draw attention. This was the second time it had occurred this loop too.

“You… you’ve reached Embodiment, haven’t you?” his defeated foe asked, utterly spent. “You’re inviting a reckoning unto yourself, everything will come after you as it did me. Transcendents, rival Embodiers and above all, those terrifying beings themselves… the Administrators.”

“Embodiment? This isn’t that,” Orodan calmly replied as he stepped towards her. “As for the Administrators? “I know… I’ve been fighting them for a while now,”

“You lie… how can anyone face the power of the System itself gathered unto a being? Maybe the Reject? But no… at your level that would be impossible…”

“Accepting what is and isn’t impossible is a good way to limit yourself. But we’ve spoken long enough, come, let us end this,” Orodan said. “Who knows how long this loop will last now that I’ve sent out that same signal for the second time…”

“You’re right… let’s. I shall not surrender, Orodan Wainwright. This meeting has gone… regrettably, but I sense reconciliation is no longer possible at this point,” she said. “Just tell… tell Alstatyn that I-”

But before he could step any closer, he felt space warp and two figures step between them.

“Mister Orodan!”

“Almyra!”

“Talricto!”

The spider, whose intrusion Orodan hadn’t even detected this time, announced himself, breaking the tension of the situation. Fenton was in front of Orodan, stopping him from advancing, and King Alstatyn was in front of the previous looper, preventing her from fighting.

The King of the Blackworth Collective however did a double take upon seeing the dimensional spider.

“You! Return my crown!”

“Your crown? With such poor vigilance over it can it truly be considered yours?” Talricto asked.

“I should have the void fleets called to seize you immediately!” Alstatyn shouted.

“Now hold on just a moment… I was merely helping test the quality of your personal guards! If anything, you should be firing them and thanking me! Besides, can’t you just make another one?”

“Make another one?! It’s symbolic, it’s-”

Orodan however ignored their bickering and gently pushed past Fenton to continue walking towards his target.

“No! Mister Orodan! You two can’t fight! With everythin’ that’s going on we can’t afford to have the two time loopers do battle!” Fenton pleaded. “The plague might be comin’ back and we need you both!”

“At ease Fenton… who said I was going to fight her?”

“…eh?”

Even Almyra, the castaway time looper, stilled at his words. She remained tense, but saw no hostility in his approach and therefore didn’t immediately attack. The King stood before her, ferocious protectiveness in his eyes, clearly the relationship between the two of them wasn’t a simple one.

Yet, as Orodan approached, she struggled but got to her feet, and stepped in front of Alstatyn, still dead set on defending the King despite her wounded and depleted state.

Orodan sheathed his weapons and put away his broom…

…and his open hand was offered to the woman.

“I attacked you… tried assaulting your mind and then killing you when things didn’t go my way,” she weakly said. “What… what is the meaning of this?”

“If I killed everyone who attacked me, I would be quite short of friends,” Orodan said. “Besides, how else can two people understand one another without a good brawl?”

“You… you punched me in the face!”

“And you sent a legion of minions after me and assaulted my mind,” Orodan shot back. “Good attack.”

“…are you expecting me to say that was a good punch?” she asked, bewildered. “Is this how you knucklehead warriors go about establishing friendships?”

“Why not? You attacked me, I attacked you… we’ve both gotten the measure of one another and we have a common foe who looms above the both of us,” Orodan said.

“The Prophet… it hounds your steps too?”

“Aye. I can’t beat an Administrator alone… not yet, but, I suspect you can’t either.”

“And how are you certain of that fact?”

“Because in an older loop, the last time you clashed with the Prophet in earnest, you were forced to flee,” Orodan said.

For a moment, her sickly and pale face took on a whole range of emotions. Disbelief at her loss, the denial of his words… and then finally, acceptance as she shook her head subtly.

“And why then have you come to Lonvoron specifically? What has you so certain that I won’t seek to betray you and regain my status as a time looper?”

“Because I need something, the secret to creating a soul from nothing,” Orodan said, causing her eyes to flash with recognition. “And you already betrayed me during one of my loops, a long time ago. But you can’t do that, not anymore… since I now empower them myself.”

“But how?” she asked, refusing to believe his words.

“Work with me, and you shall have your answers and more.”

Her hand met Orodan’s outstretched one. And as they shook… he realized that she too had the same curse laid upon her that Fenton’s mother did.

And instead of bandying words, decided to just purge it.

#

Orodan leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he focused on gently channeling Candleflame throughout his body like a pulse and then withdrawing the fires at intervals.

“Your eyes are lightin’ up like candles whenever you do that ser!”

“Given that the spell is called Candleflame, I would think so Fenton,” Orodan said. “Be careful if you attempt the same thing. You’ll need to develop Fire Resistance first.”

Fenton’s face blanched at that suggestion. Orodan had told the boy often enough how resistance skills were acquired without Bloodlines or rituals.

“And I wonder who taught you Dimensionalism to the point where you could manage that?” a certain arrogant spider asked, sitting on a luxurious chair with a crown atop his head.

“Without the many whippings I suffered during our spars, I wouldn’t have gotten my body and magic in enough sync with my dimensional nature to be capable of doing this,” Orodan admitted. “Thank you, truly.”

Talricto vibrated haughtily.

“Hmmph! Just remember this favor when you go around smashing galaxies down the line.”

He certainly would. Orodan always repaid his debts.

“Er… how long are we supposed to be waitin’ here ser?” Fenton asked.

“As long as it takes the two of them to square things away,” Orodan said. “Having a life-altering illness suddenly cured isn’t a small matter. Your mother suffered from the same ailment, you should know how that felt.”

If anything, Fenton had managed to weasel out of being paraded in front of all Storven. Clyburn would be the only one receiving any public awards while Fenton was whisked away for a ‘private meeting’ with the King. Something which would ironically cause more stir and speculation than any public ceremony.

“Aye, I do. You can’t help but go around bein’ a hero eh?”

“I’d hardly call that heroic… I saw a problem, and I solved it with my own hands,” Orodan replied. “Did you not see the problem of the plague and solve it alongside Clyburn?”

“Right but that’s-”

The door to the King’s solar opened, and two people walked in.

One, King Alstatyn Von Flemethy, ruler of the Blackworth Collective and Lonvoron. The other… a woman whose curly hair and skin were a far cry from the sickly-looking thing he’d fought less than an hour ago.

She was dark the way many of those from the Eastern Kingdoms of Alastaia were, with curly hair too. She walked with a curious sense of discovery to her, the King hovering right there ready to catch her. And while the man was fretful, she had a look of barely concealed excitement upon her face as though she was learning to walk again after a long time. It made Orodan wonder… just how many of the spells he saw upon her before were dedicated to keeping her alive and helping her walk?

She looked at him; he looked at her.

Alstatyn and Fenton looked between the both of them, worry apparent that another fight would start up.

“Well… at least you don’t look as though you’ve seen a ghost anymore,” Orodan said.

She frowned, but to her side, the King coughed… attempting to stifle a laugh.

“Laugh it up all you want, your reckoning will come soon Alstatyn,” she said. “Now then, Orodan Wainwright. It seems we have much to-”

The King however had crossed the distance and come before Orodan. The man suddenly clasped Orodan’s hand with both of his own and lowered his head.

“Otherworlder, I shall not forget this debt. I Alstatyn Von Flemethy, King of the Blackworth Collective, son, brother… husband, will forever remain indebted to you. If there is anything-”

Orodan stopped the King’s sincere profession by clasping his shoulders.

“All I did was heal her of the curse that had taken a hold of her soul,” Orodan said. “It’s not like I brought her back to life.”

“You might as well have, she is-”

“Alstatyn!”

-the light of my life, and for the longest time her sickness has caused us nothing but grief,” Alstatyn finished. Of course, the man was grabbed by the collar to face his lover. Still, he did not quail and instead looked towards her, fury in his eyes. “I will not recant my words.”

“This is not the time or place to be squabbling. Everything you ever wanted, I gave you, and now you decide to let your tongue flow freely when I specifically asked that you do not?” the woman angrily hissed. “We do not bare all our cards during negotiations, did we not learn that the hard way when we were but young fools embarking on a journey to learn the wonders of Lonvoron.”

“And where has that gotten us? For ten-thousand years have you given me half-truths, falsehoods and beat around the truth while feeding me nothing of substance. For so long has our world faced the shadow of the Prophet. And now you wish to begin this alliance with more of the same? I say enough!” Alstatyn declared. “For the last seventeen years, your paranoia and reclusiveness have increased in their intensity. And now the chance to get answers, to solve all our problems presents itself and you wish to remain suspicious? Since when did we stop trusting one another? Do… do you not love me?”

“No Alstatyn, wait… I…”

Orodan turned away. Comical as it might have seemed, to witness a powerful woman’s soft spot exposed, it was dishonorable in his eyes to ruin the sanctity of it by watching. Everyone had their weaknesses, and the ability to care for someone wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, he already found his low opinion of this previous time looper softening a little as a result.

“I believe, that is our cue to give them some space,” Orodan said. “Come Fenton, matters of the heart should be given the solace they deserve.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“No, no. Stop, that will not be necessary, I…” she sighed and took a deep breath. “Perhaps all the spells I have had running all this time have not been good for my mind. Might we start off anew?”

He extended a hand which she met.

“Orodan Wainwright.”

“Almyra.”

It was a great show of trust for this otherwise paranoid woman. To entrust her true name to him, a time looper. It wasn’t just an introduction, but an implicit revealing of something he could use to track her down in any of his following loops if he wanted.

“Almyra?” Orodan asked. “No last name? Or perhaps you’re a Von Flemethy like the King? Though that could depend on the relative prestige of the house…”

On Alastaia at least, either men or women could marry into a family or take their spouse’s name, with custom typically dictating the more prestigious family’s name be taken. His old mentor Adeltaj Simarji for instance, had supposedly married into the prestigious house Simarji of the Eastern Kingdoms long ago.

“Just Almyra. No last names in my backwater village. I’m not a noble, not by birth. I originate from the bog islands; grew up the daughter of a poor fisherman,” she answered and Orodan saw no lie in this. He could respect that upbringing. “I suppose Alstatyn intends to… change that, eventually.”

“Eventually? We must wed right away! For too long have I suffered the indignation of not having my heart bear my last name, it shall not be so any longer!” the King declared, seeming jubilant as ever.

“We have much to do, with less than a week before our position is known, we must set about making preparations for the Prophet’s descent. I want to marry you Alstatyn, I do, but we must ensure our own survival first,” she softly explained.

The King sighed.

“I hate when you make sense…”

“Which just so happens to be all the time,” she fired back with a smirk.

“The things I put up with… ah, but where are my manners? Mister Orodan Wainwright, is it? I am Alstatyn Von Flemethy, as you doubtlessly heard during my shameless display of groveling,” the King said.

“And I am the legendary Talricto the Wanderer. Yes, yes… you may remain suitably in awe,” the spider said.

The King’s face turned a little sour as the haughty spider introduced himself, but the man held his tongue.

“A dimensional phase spider, a most… troublesome species. Every time I attempted to surveil Orodan Wainwright your presence put a stop to those plans,” Almyra admitted. “Having you on our side does put me at ease I shall admit.”

“Best dimensionalist I’ve ever met. He’s a little prickly but has a good heart,” Orodan added and then clapped the shoulder of the boy next to him. “And this here…”

“Is Fenton Penny. A name I’ve come to know all too unfortunately late,” the previous looper admitted. “Your talent in Enchanting is… most impossible.”

“No different to my talent in Cleaning,” Orodan said. “Now, let us speak of business. You said we have less than a week before the Prophet descends?”

“Yes… I have studied the tapestry of fate and the fabric of the cosmos. You affected both of these things quite severely. You gained a skill level did you not? Did… you achieve Embodiment? Only true monsters can cause such a reaction upon doing so,” she said.

“Ah, about that… I merely reached level 150 in my Celestial skill,” Orodan admitted. “I have yet to become an Embodier, but it’s close I feel.”

The room went silent, and Alstatyn’s eyes widened.

“You… are not even an Embodier yet?” the King asked. “How can that be?”

Almyra however gave him an assessing look as though something had clicked together in her head.

“I see… no wonder I was cast aside,” she said. “What a monster you are… this truly was meant to be, wasn’t it? Perhaps you really are the System’s last desperate gambit borne of necessity.”

“Explain.”

“Embodiment isn’t just any other standard level like going from Elite to Master. Even Gods and Transcendents, minus the trial of ascension, operate much the same as anyone else. Prior to level 150, everyone is mostly the same when using a skill,” she explained. “But past that… the moment a Transcendent ascends to reach the Embodiment-level, the tapestry of fate ripples with what impact they could have, and beyond even that… reality itself seems to know. At that level, it’s no longer just a game of skill, but one which is a zero-sum game. Embodiers not only compete to gain understandings and steal concepts from other rival Embodiers of the same or related skill, but they also lose out on power if their rivals understand things that they don’t or have a deeper comprehension of something that they also study. During our battle, the tapestry and cosmos shook more violently than any recorded past Embodiment I’ve researched. But if you say that you haven’t even reached Embodiment yet, then…”

Orodan was in a lot of trouble and would be attracting the attention of everyone.

“Just another day for the stubborn skill-grinder in a time loop. Aren’t you glad you’ll get to make so many friends soon?” Zaessythra cheerfully asked in a saccharine tone.

“I’ll be drawing a lot of people to your galaxy when I do,” Orodan said.

“You’ve already done so, or will in less than a week. The tapestry is still in pandemonium, but when things settle just enough, anyone capable of reading fate or rival Embodiers who hone the same concept as you will come flocking, thinking a new Embodier’s been born,” Almyra explained. “They’ll either demand you join their factions, or try to eliminate you to claim your insights and comprehensions for themselves and free up the metaphorical space at the top. Death, for us… or I should say, for you, isn’t the end. But what should concern you, is that after achieving Embodiment, every single loop of yours will start with the tapestry going haywire. You’ll have a week, maybe less, to solidify your position every time you start over. It already felt as though the System itself was announcing the arrival of the strongest new Embodier ever seen… but you haven’t even achieved that level yet…”

“No wonder I’ve never seen an Embodiment-level being until I left the bounds of my galaxy,” Orodan said. “They must all be hiding from one another in paranoia.”

“Not only from one another, but mainly from the Administrators, each of whom are the strongest Embodiers of their respective skills. Embodiment is a lonely path, and the only other Embodier besides myself who dares to live in the open is the first dwarf, the leader of their race, who dwells at the center of a sealed and re-purposed black hole at the center of a galaxy he controls entirely,” she explained. “The rest… are all hiding in secluded meditation, hoping to jockey over insights and comprehensions.”

“Fair enough. But if I already did this without achieving Embodiment, then what does it mean?” Orodan asked.

“I do not know. In all my years and loops, I’ve never seen such pandemonium occur all throughout the tapestry, as though the System itself feared what was coming,” Almyra explained.

Her words seemed flowery, but Orodan knew the truth of what was coming. Perhaps the System was right to fear his ascension, after all…

…one of his chief goals was to destroy it.

“I shan’t tarry on what I cannot answer,” Orodan said. “But for now, there’s much we can answer. Not only are the Gods of Lonvoron working against you, but I’ve also come seeking you for your knowledge on a particular subject. The creation of a new soul.”

“I concur, but before we deal with any of that, our common foe comes first,” the previous looper said. “We must first determine our respective strengths and weaknesses, to that end, narrating the story of our time loops to one another might help. The Prophet seems a daunting foe… but with two time loopers working together, it need not be an insurmountable challenge.”

“Aye, I might have a plan or two that may help alongside a few loose ends to tie up,” Orodan said. “Let me tell you about this fate reader I met on Port Bellgrave…”

#

“I don’t usually get the feeling of frustration from you, Orodan.”

“And I usually am not, yet I cannot help but feel a slight bit of impatience when I’m so close to the secrets necessary to bring you back and that woman would dangle them above my head with the condition of victory,” Orodan replied. “I’m not dishonorable enough to force help from anyone… but I simply hope she keeps her end of the bargain.”

If it were just himself he was concerned about, Orodan would care not. But when the repair of Zaessythra’s soul and her potential resurrection was on the line, it was a different matter.

He felt the warm embrace of her feelings enveloping his mind and soul, as though gently assuaging him, but it did little to quell the flames of determination within his heart.

One way or another, Orodan would bring her back. And in order to do that, the Prophet, an Administrator, needed to die.

It was an impossible task to ask of anyone. Even the mightiest of Embodiers would balk at the task of having to kill an Administrator, and Orodan was expected to do so?

He smiled. Were horrible odds not his specialty? Back against the wall, a superior foe approaching… this was exactly the environment he excelled in.

Still, the rest of the conversation had been enlightening.

Almyra, soon to be Von Flemethy he supposed, was the time looper before him.

A lethally effective mage, schemer and faction leader of the Embodiment-level. A woman who’d started off as the daughter of a fisherman in the bog islands, dying when pirates raided her village and killed everyone at the age of sixteen.

Stricken with a horrid curse right from birth, her loops hadn’t been easy. Orodan realized that he had a serious advantage he’d overlooked. Seventeen years of hard labor, combat and rigorous training had essentially shaped his body into a weapon. Even before the time loops, on the day of them, Orodan Wainwright was about as well-honed and in-shape as a young man his size could get.

But what if he’d begun every loop sick, cursed and near death as his vitality refused to flow from his soul to his body? Physical training? Fighting foes? How much harder would everything have been?

Of course, a deranged part of his mind felt that might be good training, but even he had to admit the difficulty would have been astronomical. After all, Orodan was as much a product of his circumstances as he was a result of his nature. Who knew whether Orodan could have succeeded under such circumstances?

It was what made him respect Almyra all the more, having clawed her way to magical proficiency through watching natural creatures and eventually getting herself into one of the universities where she met a young Alstatyn. She hadn’t spoken too much of her personal affairs, but from what he gleaned, the King was very important to her heart. One of the few people who’d stood by her in all her early loops whenever she met him.

Unlike Orodan, who’d traversed the path of the warrior, she’d instead walked the path of magic. Unlike he who’d sought to beat his foes through brute force repetition and the ferocity of his martial prowess, she instead planned, schemed and gathered allies aplenty, striking ruthlessly via tactics and efficient ploys.

Who had the patience to orchestrate over a hundred separate political feints and maneuvers in order to carefully position the current King on the throne? Certainly not Orodan.

Furthermore, she’d done what he’d never thought to, which was the weaponization of her world and all the surrounding ones into one massive faction. How powerful could Alastaia and its surrounding worlds be if Orodan decided to create a faction rivaling the Hegemony? His focus on personal strength robbed him of the answer.

She’d worked her way to where she was from the bottom, despite her terrible circumstances, and he could truly respect that.

And the sad part was, despite his respect for how far she’d come, he couldn’t deny that her careful planning and paranoid method of approaching the loops were what had led to her time looper status being revoked.

Yet, it was this mind of hers which made her deadly.

If anything, he’d caught her unprepared, and the result of a bout between the two of them if she managed to get the drop on him and had accurate information on his abilities was by no means clear. Orodan wasn’t sure if he could eke out a win yet if the Administrator’s Mantle was fully charged and she decided to drop by for a surprise assault.

Her deadly mind in combination with his brawn? Perhaps victory need not be so slim a possibility.

And the plans they’d come up with would require a lot of legwork and sweat, both of which he would provide of course, but the man waiting for him was essential for the construction of what was necessary.

“Be sure to deploy the pillars at staggered intervals no less than thirty metres apart! The efficiency increases by at least twenty-seven and point-two percent!” Clyburn ordered and then happened to turn his head enough that he caught a glimpse of Orodan. His eyes widened with recognition and relief. “Mister Wainwright! I saw neither you nor Fenton at the award ceremony! Where’ve you two been? They said it was for some personal meeting with the King himself, but given recent events and the alarm which went off for activity on the citadel roof…”

“I can understand your worries Clyburn, apologies for causing you concern,” Orodan said, laying a hand upon the man’s shoulder. “I see you’re right at the work, not a moment of rest for you.”

“How can I rest when you’ve infected me with your productivity over the past few months? Now even sitting down feels wrong and I must occupy each breath with something useful,” Clyburn replied. “The work order sent by the castle seems quite… expansive.”

“It will certainly be a tall order. Fenton is enchanting away as we speak, preparing parts that are to be transported here,” Orodan informed. “Have you received word of what I came for?”

“I was told that this project had certain alterations which only you and our young friend knew of, but wasn’t informed of what those amendments were exactly. You say Fenton’s enchanting? Is this not just a sewer project that he’ll perform a few cursory enchantments for?” the Guild Master asked. “Not often that the King himself orders a construction project for mere sewer work.”

“Right, about that…” Orodan trailed off, handing Clyburn a piece of paper. “Read that and tell me what you think. That’s the real project we’ll be working on.”

Clyburn’s eyes took on a serious look as he looked upon the paper.

“This is… in one word, ambitious,” Clyburn muttered. “A week? For all of this?”

“I’ll be assisting of course, and the recruiting and building up of the guild’s workforce that we’ve done over the past month will certainly help us now,” Orodan said, “Florence is already diverting all our personnel towards this and nothing else. We’re even hiring contractors, engineers and laborers from other guilds to help with the non-essential work, far away from the actual construction of course.”

“How can we keep this under wraps? It seems so expansive… all along the city walls? Can this even work?” Clyburn queried.

“I’ll be keeping vigilant for any would-be spies and curious eyes,” Orodan assured. “As for it working, fear not… I’ve only seen this design in action once during my time on my world.”

“And just off of that you…!” Clyburn exclaimed but stopped himself. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing you brought these blueprints to me. First of all, the concept can work as you say, but there are engineering flaws in several key junctures. It could do with a re-routing of section eleven to this spot lest an overflow occur, and a storage bank needs be built here…”

Orodan intently listened as the best engineer he knew continued correcting the plans he and Almyra had drafted up. Only time would tell whether this plan would work, but Orodan had seen the design function well enough until things had gone catastrophically wrong for other reasons.

If the concept of the pillars of purification could be combined with what Orodan knew worked from his world… they would have a powerful trump card in their pockets.

#

“Little strange to have twenty pillars surroundin’ this one building ain’t it?”

“Isn’t it.”

“What?” Fenton asked.

“A little strange to have twenty pillars surrounding this one building, isn’t it?”

“Well yeah… that’s why I asked, you don’t know either miss? You’re the one that ordered it…”

“No, I mean your…” Almyra continued and then stopped herself with a sigh. “Never mind. Continue studying the Mantle child, you may learn something yet.”

Orodan chuckled even as he was in the midst of connecting soul weave within himself in an attempt to form enchantments.

“I think you forget that he was raised on Port Bellgrave among the indentured servants, no sense trying to change his manner of speaking now,” Orodan remarked.

“I too spoke like that… long, long ago. Facing ridicule for it enough times has a way of quickly correcting one’s dialect,” she said. “Though, with talents and a reputation like his, who’s going to correct him now?”

“I don’t want to talk like some stuffy blue-blood! Next thing you know they’ll put me in a frilly coat, start callin’ me ser, and I’ll be smokin’ a fancy pipe and barking orders like the foremen of the mines,” Fenton protested.

“He has a point,” Orodan said. “Putting on pretentious airs is oft a precursor to arrogance and ignorance. Neither of which will serve him well.”

“And your archaic manner of speech isn’t pretentious enough?” the previous looper asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“I come from another world, go to my home town and everyone there will speak as I do,” Orodan said. “I don’t think you’d like Ogdenborough very much though. No real opportunities to learn magic, and far too much crime and poverty.”

“I admit, when you told me of this miserable location to begin the loops in, I was rather morbidly fascinated with it. I suppose that it produced the sort of looper who would go around punching things only seems natural,” Almyra said. “Come, let us give the boy some space and speak, Orodan Wainwright. I sense your efforts are going well, but your methods are a bit…”

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“Indulge my curiosity, and I shall tell you.”

Finding nothing better to do, and realizing that he could simply practice while walking, Orodan followed.

He had gotten quick enough at forming enchantments over the past month that Fenton now had him swiftly forming enchantments within his body with soul weave. It was the natural final step to what he sought, an enchantment that could be re-created on the fly even after bodily destruction and in the following loops. Of course, Orodan was far too janky at forming the inscriptions within his own flesh fluidly and was also slow. Though it was fast improving.

“And what more of your curiosity could I indulge?” Orodan asked. “My training with Talricto? My exercises in Weaving?”

“Interesting avenues of advancement, particularly the Weaving. I’d heard of such unique combinations throughout the course of my research, but those are usually at the low levels, perhaps Adepts, maybe Elites at most. Seeing a non-combat skill integrated at the Transcendent-level is certainly of interest,” she said. “But that’s not what I’m interested in. You know what I want to know about. Something I did not want to mention in front of Alstatyn or Fenton.”

“The Boundless One and the mechanism for the time loops, explain everything. Particularly how you’ve now come to empower them yourself,” she demanded as they stepped out into the hallway. “I already know why the System is trying to anoint us time loopers, and why it particularly chose you.”

It was a temporary building that had been erected, right in the vaults at the bottom of the royal citadel, fortified incredibly heavily and with the Administrator’s Mantle at its center for study.

“Then you know that the Boundless One at the center of it all is what empowers everything.”

“I do, my studies and investigations have shown me as much… but why? Why does it empower everything?” she asked, suddenly desperate for answers. “Why does it choose who it does? What is it’s aim?”

“I do not know the answer to many of those questions,” Orodan admitted. “But when I fought the Reject, I remember him telling me that despite it being anathema to intelligent life, the Boundless One started empowering the System because it supposedly loved life and wished to coexist with it.”

“It… loved life? That’s the most nonsensical thing I’ve heard of,” she spat. “How can an alien being of unfathomable power suddenly decide it loves us mortal insects and start empowering a System which encapsulates our universe? It should not even know what our fleeting thoughts and feeling are like.”

“I can only tell you what I’ve heard. From the brief bits I understood from the Custodian, the mad ramblings of the Reject and the blind devotion of the Prophet, the Boundless One doesn’t seem actively malicious,” Orodan said. “Has its empowerment of the System caused a problem that will eventually corrupt all life? Possibly. But has it attempted to slaughter us all? No.”

“And yet, it could not have created the System by itself, nor the time loop mechanism,” Almyra said. “Not if what you told me about what you saw inside is true.”

“I do not think it did either… not if the Custodian has to help tinker with the System and prior to my… usurpation, the time loops themselves,” Orodan added. “Plus, the Reject, he came from a time and place before the System’s arrival. I do not think the Boundless One made it, rather, it simply drew life into this cosmic space known as the System and empowered it.”

“Which means life existed well before its arrival, and life will continue to exist far after everything’s been corrupted,” she said, her eyes blazing with anger. “It’s clear then. We must destroy the Boundless One and the System.”

Orodan scrutinized her gaze. She was angry, the matter quite personal for her.

“You sound like the Reject,” Orodan said, breaking the momentary silence after her proclamation.

“I am nothing like that deranged madman!” she hissed. “He is a terror who tortures souls for all eternity. He hunts time loopers down like prey. How am I like him?”

“For someone who claims not to be like him, you certainly do hold the same grudge. And while I hold no grudge about it now… you did work alongside him to try and get rid of me the last time we met,” Orodan revealed, causing her to stiffen.

“You lie. I do not think…” she muttered and then looked away. “No, I suppose I would. That does sound like something I would do, especially if he promised a method of getting the time loops back.”

“Which is exactly what he did. He promised you the role of time looper as long as you didn’t help the Boundless One,” Orodan informed. “He was the first of our kind. The first time looper. The Boundless One cast him aside just as it did you. In those circumstances, I suppose I can neither fault your hatred nor his desire for revenge. I said you sound like the Reject, that is true, but as do I. There are grievances I too wish to see settled.”

The Custodian had orchestrated the murder of his parents. He could both have respect for the upbringing that made him who he was and also bear a grudge for what he had lost. It was a matter he still wrestled with in the deepest pits of his mind; whether the original wrong he’d suffered warranted revenge… or forgiveness.

“Then we’re of a mind on this matter. Destroy the Boundless One and the System itself,” she finalized.

“And what then? Live within a broken universe where countless living beings suffer without the crutch they’ve come to rely upon?” Orodan asked. “I will not deny that my time without the System has been beneficial, but to snatch it out from under everyone else would be cruel.”

Now it was she who gave him an assessing look, and soon came to a realization.

“You do not look indecisive about this dilemma. What is it you intend to do?”

“I… will replace the System with my own. One offered freely and not without consent, those who wish to remain with its familiar embrace can opt to use mine, and those who wish to go another way can simply refuse though the door shall ever remain open,” Orodan said. “I told you of how I re-created my own System did I not? I intend to spread that all throughout System space upon the conclusion of my grand ambition.”

“Madness… how can a mortal match the infinite and do what they do? Your aspirations are impossible, Orodan Wainwright,” she declared, disbelief on her face.

“Nothing is impossible. Some would have said re-creating your own System should have been, yet I did it. Others might say resisting the Reject is, but I did that too,” Orodan said, determination in his eyes. “Let me tell you about the long loop whose re-telling I avoided in front of Alstatyn and Fenton…”

And so he did. He narrated everything of what occurred after acquiring his first Celestial skill. The battles against visitors from other worlds who came to abduct him, his adventures across the cosmos where he openly told everyone he was a time looper, and even his first encounter with Almyra upon Lonvoron. Finally, he finished it with the events of the Battle of Alastaia, where he’d taken full control of the time loops, his descent into the madness that was Infinity, and his encounters with two Boundless Ones.

“And then… I woke up, back in my dingy hovel in Ogdenborough, with nary a Quest notification in sight and no Status or System to my name,” Orodan finished.

“This is ludicrous. It simply sounds absolutely unreal and the work of fiction. And yet… my lie detection skill finds none in your words,” she carefully said. “Is that why you seek true soul genesis? To revive that tattered spirit which hovers around your soul? I noticed it when I started shadowing you, but to think there was such a story behind it all…”

“Would you not do the same for your King? My heart belongs to her just as yours belongs to him,” Orodan stated, receiving a warm flutter of feeling in response from within from Zaessythra. “But that is the sum of it. There are all the answers you sought. The true universe is large and terrifying, and my claiming of the time loops has made some of them quite dissatisfied.”

“I see… it explains now why the Warrior and the Mage have been more active near the borders of our universe of late,” she said. “Hostile invaders attempting to make their way in, all in response to you.”

“I imagine knowing that you’re being reverted in time can’t be a pleasant feeling. Some of these entities must be quite powerful, capable of detecting that they’re within a time loop. Of course, they’re unable to break free without coming to deal with me personally,” Orodan explained. “Though, how is it that you’re aware of the Administrators’ movements?”

“The Mantle is one method, and the whispers of other Embodiers in the void is another. There are several of my fellow Embodiers who I keep correspondence with, helps to track the movements of the Administrators,” Almyra explained. “But, I still cannot believe this tale you’ve spun. Despite all the evidence pointing to your words being truth. Did you truly take control of the time loops?”

“I don’t know if I took control of them, it’s not as though I can change the starting point, stop them, bring others into them freely or anything of the sort. Hells, Zaessythra can only come along because she’s tied to this space within my soul through which I can transport things across the loops, barely enough to fit a box of apples,” Orodan clarified. “But I did empower them, perhaps beyond what they were meant to originally do. It makes me even more certain that the time loop mechanism wasn’t created by the Boundless One. If it did, then empowering it fully shouldn’t have been an issue for it.”

“And yet it goes around playing with things it does not fully understand, just as it plays with our lives as though we are insects in a glass box fit to act for its amusement and to fulfill its whimsical notions of ‘love’,” she spat. “Though, of all the decisions it’s made… I suppose moving onto you was not one of them.”

The resentment and betrayal in her voice were apparent.

“My talent for cleaning aside, I do not know why I was chosen. Even the Custodian who guided the Boundless One into anointing me did so as a final, desperate gambit,” Orodan said. “I’m no more special than you or Fenton.”

“Neither Fenton or I are limitless like you are… you, Orodan Wainwright, are an anomaly. Something impossible and very… unsettling,” she said.

“Just because I punched you once-”

“This has nothing to do with your brutish methods of fighting,” she sharply interjected, cutting him off. “Nothing else I’ve seen is truly limitless. Even the Boundless Ones, they are the personification of a concept yes, but they aren’t actually limitless or we would have seen a singular one dominating all of the universe by now. You however… not only do you break the barrier between mortal and Boundless, but you are in some ways beyond even them. Tch… I was never meant to succeed when a monster like you emerged, was I? I, the cautious but fearful girl from the bog islands, how was I ever meant to compare to an impossibility like you?”

“You’re asking the wrong person that question. And for what it’s worth, the Custodian and the Boundless One weren’t expecting me to do what I did either. Even I do not truly understand how I do what I do,” Orodan admitted. “Perhaps it really is just sheer bull-headed stubbornness and stupidity taken to their natural conclusion. Or maybe there’s something more to it and I was never human to start with. I do not know. But none of that intrinsically makes me a superior looper to you. My nation of birth is an undeveloped backwater, and my home world is an unknown rock amidst the void. Unlike you, I have no particular proclivity for building nations and coordinating my people to face the various threats of the universe.”

She seemed more mollified at hearing that yet turned away all the same.

“You’ll perhaps want to get a head start on that. Once you reach Embodiment, you’ll know no peace,” she explained. “And while you might be strong… there’s only so much one man can do. Your world will be just as much of a target as you are. Each loop whenever I start… or I should say started, attempting to evade the notice of other Embodiers caused the majority of my deaths.”

Orodan begged to differ and intended to challenge that line of thought. But the thought of developing Alastaia wasn’t a bad one.

“How many loops did it take before you could finally safely settle yourself? Thousands? Tens of thousands?” Orodan asked.

“No? It took me eleven attempts before I managed to fend off my pursuers and secure myself.”

Eleven? Only eleven loops?

“You…!” Orodan exclaimed. “You clearly aren’t giving yourself enough credit! That would have taken me tens of thousands of loops to achieve!”

“And I would never have fought enemies multiple levels above me like you regularly do. How many years have you been looping for?”

“Perhaps a thousand? More? Of course, that’s including the time I spent empowering the loops during-”

“Ten-thousand two-hundred and seventy-two years. That’s how long I’ve been looping for,” the previous looper answered, a bitter look on her face. “And then you come in, just over a thousand years, and exceed all my progress in less than a tenth of the time. Come, let us not speak of this any longer. It shall only sully my mood and remind me of my inadequacies and fears.”

Orodan didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d actually been looping for less than a hundred years if the time spent empowering the time loop mechanism was discounted.

“Fear isn’t a bad thing, even I can feel it depending on the situation,” Orodan remarked, recalling the descent into madness he’d experienced when diving too deep into the concept of Infinity. “But, you’re right. Let’s speak on other things. The Gods of Lonvoron are opposing you. Which is quite strange because most of them should be purified by now, I did purge the divine realm of all Eldritch within it.”

“Fools who side with the Eldritch in a desperate bid to spite their oppressor,” she replied. “Concern yourself not with them.”

“Their oppressor? Does the System not grant them followers and the ability to channel faith as energy?” Orodan asked.

Almyra shook her head.

“Not all of them wanted that. Do you not think each God was someone who wanted to become a Transcendent and not be forced to leave friends and family in the real world behind? Existence within the divine dimension is lonely. After all… Gods cannot achieve Embodiment.”

The revelation struck him, and suddenly, his battle against the hostile Gods of Lonvoron and their final words made all too much sense. Orodan hadn’t even known that Gods couldn’t break the level 150 barrier to reach the Embodiment-level. Stuck, stagnating at 150 for centuries, decades… millennia. How many of them would go mad?

How many would harbor thoughts of railing against the System?

“But why would they follow that wretched zealot? The Prophet loves the Boundless One and the Eldritch, siding with him would be akin to siding with their enemy,” Orodan countered. “What could he have promised them? Was their hatred truly so deep that they would forsake what they had upon Lonvoron for its whispers.”

An almost imperceptible frown emerged upon her face for the briefest of moments, but Orodan caught it.

“No sense in wondering why they’ve chosen to rebel. Whether it’s the hatred towards their lot in life or some false promise the Administrator’s made them,” the previous looper said. “They are our enemy now and we must prepare to meet them soon.”

For now, he chose to ignore the obvious deflection.

“Very well. You’ve asked me a lot of questions, but now it’s my turn to ask some of you,” Orodan said. “The curse afflicting your soul. How did you acquire it.”

“I do not directly know… but many of the beings I’ve consulted tell me that its signature bears quite some similarity to that of an Administrator,” Almyra said. “All I’m aware of is that ten-thousand years ago, when I was born, the soul nexus of Lonvoron faced an assault from outside. Some malicious foreign entity cursed a whole lot of souls within the nexus. Naturally, this led to me bearing this horrid curse. I am half-tempted to think it may have been the Prophet.”

Orodan though, wasn’t too sure of that. He had seen how the System and its enforcers could and would ruin people’s lives for the purpose of creating time loopers with a high chance of success. The Custodian was responsible for him being an orphan… perhaps it was the same case here.

“Perhaps…” he muttered. “Next question. Your ability to clone yourself. Teach me.”

She laughed.

“That’s not a question.”

“Then don’t reply with an answer if you don’t want to,” Orodan retorted. “How does it work?”

“An effective skill is it not? My Mana Manipulation needed to reach the Transcendent-level before I could reliably form independent mana cores within a mana construct and have them cast spells on my behalf,” she said and then smirked at his disappointment. “Did you think they were based off my soul? A technique of that sort would have helped you more, right? Worry not, such secrets are possible to acquire… provided we survive this ordeal.”

“I don’t intend on letting Fenton die,” Orodan said. “But the loop inevitably ends for me. Even if we best the Prophet, I cannot guarantee my survival for too long beyond that. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re holding that as a condition over my head. I’m all too glad to face down an Administrator, but what do you get out of me winning when the loop ends anyways?”

“It’s the principle of the matter. We agreed to this deal, and seeing if you’re capable of keeping your word is as much a test of character as it is me ensuring my newfound ally is reliable and strong. Surely, asking to prevail and come out the fire together isn’t asking too much? As a matter of fact, this helps quite a lot. Whatever data we collect about the upcoming battle, I expect you to ferry back to me so that we, or even I myself, can reliably beat it moving forward in my- I mean, your, next loops,” Almyra said, ignoring her slip. “You want the answers for true soul genesis and making soul-based clones? They’re quite closely related. Help me come out this confrontation with the Prophet alive and I shall tell you everything.”

That was fair.

In a week, when the enemy descended upon Lonvoron, the question of whether he could beat an Administrator would be answered.

#

“I think I understand this thing a bit better now Mister Orodan… even just brushing my hand against it, it’s like I can see and feel an entire sort of energy that was always around but invisible before.”

Fenton lightly brushed his hand against the Reject’s Administrator’s Mantle as he spoke.

“System energy. What you’re feeling is System energy,” Orodan clarified. “It’s best not played with casually. Tap into it too extensively.. and you’ll catch the plague itself.”

“The plague? Why would it infect me with Eldritch power?” the lad asked.

“There’s a secret behind it you’re better off knowing. If you know about it, the chance of you getting infected by the plague becomes greater,” Orodan explained honestly. “If you really want, I can tell you, but it’ll only increase your risk of getting infected.”

Fenton looked interested for a moment, and then promptly turned away.

“Sounds like a whole lot o’ hassle ser. I’d rather not get infected by that foul stuff, seen what it does to good folk,” the boy said while continuing his examination.

For a while, Orodan made further attempts to form a soul weave based enchantment within his flesh, Fenton studied the Mantle and during it all he just observed his young student closely.

The end of the loop was fast approaching. The approach of an Administrator almost always signified the end of it all, especially with the approach of his own rise to the Embodiment-level.

Orodan’s eyes softened as he looked at Fenton diligently studying, taking notes and working towards something which didn’t even involve him.

“You’re a good man.”

“Eh? A man?” Fenton queried, confused.

“Would you rather I call you a dog instead? Perhaps a spider? Though Talricto might be offended,” Orodan shot back. “Yes, a man. You’ve cared for your mother. You’ve fought, you’ve killed… and your mettle has been tested in battle enough times in defense of your world. Not many your age can claim to have done all that you have.”

“Er… thank you ser? What’s brought this on?” the young man asked.

“Is a teacher not allowed to feel a sense of pride towards his student? Just accept the praise and question it not,” Orodan said with a smile.

Fenton however turned around and frowned.

“You sound a lot like me mum did… when the illness was gettin’ worse and there wasn’t any end in sight. Cut that nonsense out.”

Orodan had forgotten just how perceptive the youth could be. He himself had been perceptive from a young age, able to tell who was rotten and capable of reading between the lines. All the street smart orphans of Ogdenborough had to be. It wasn’t a surprise then that Fenton was the same, having grown up the way the lad did.

“You’re too perceptive for your own good,” Orodan said with a sigh. “Worry not about me and my battles.”

“Well there’s nothin’ to worry about because I’ll make sure you live to see the end of it all ser,” Fenton said, turning away and continuing to work.

Orodan was somewhat conflicted. Agathor had essentially groomed him into becoming his divine vessel as the God and his two wicked tyrant compatriots attempted to use the guise of beating the Eldritch Avatar to enter the time loops.

Back then, Orodan was the young and impressionable warrior with talent while Agathor was the older, more powerful influence. But here and now Fenton fit the role of the determined and talented youngling, while Orodan was the older mentor figure.

And with the way things were going, would he not just be leading Fenton to his death? He wasn’t stupid and didn’t lack self-awareness. At every point he’d offered the lad a way out, unlike Agathor who’d forced Orodan into something horrible. But even then… the situation made him uneasy and left a foul taste in the mouth.

“You’re young, you have a long life ahead of you and the battle to come doesn’t involve Lonvoron to that extent. If you and your mother hid on one of the islands, you’d come out in the aftermath and be just fine,” Orodan tried to persuade.

“What aftermath? The loops will just reset you back to that shoddy hovel you keep talkin’ about… and I’ll be back to strugglin’ in scrap town, breakin’ me back to make ends meet and delay me mum’s death,” Fenton coldly said. “What? Didn’t think I knew she was going to die before you came by?”

The message was clear. Better to die than return to the life he had before, even if upon returning he would know not what he had.

“Look Fenton… there was a time where I was also the young man being guided towards entering battle, groomed for something larger than myself. And although my trust was betrayed in a most brutal and treacherous fashion, I have no intention of doing the same,” Orodan said. “You follow me… and there’s a high chance you’ll be dead at the end of this.”

“And if I don’t follow you, you’re certain to end up dead ser.”

“I respect the determination, but you’re overestimating yourself lad,” Orodan retorted. “At the level which we’ll be fighting at, your contribution would be meaningless, and your death, doubly tragic.”

“You think so Mister Orodan? Still, every little thing adds up, and who’s to say I won’t help you somehow?”

“Look, just don’t die. I’ve had enough people die on my behalf and I’m not interested in adding one more to that list. Even if the loops reset everything, the scars upon my mind and soul still remain,” Orodan sternly reminded. “I’m offering you the free choice, here and now, if you want to back out at any point, just say the word.”

“Too bad I don’t want to then,” Fenton defiantly said. “Besides… not like I’m about to charge a Transcendent for fisticuffs. I’m not stupid Mister Orodan. You can trust me to keep a good head on my shoulders.”

For some reason, that only left Orodan with a greater sense of unease than he’d had before.

“Suit yourself. I won’t stand in your way,” Orodan said with a frown on his face. And then, a considering look replaced it. “If you want to help, come here so I can verify something.”

Fenton looked a bit suspicious.

“I’m not about to knock you out or throw you into some desolate island in the middle of nowhere so you can survive till the end of the battle,” Orodan assured. “I’m not the type to use tricks like that, you know this.”

“Alright ser… but what’s this about?”

“Something I couldn’t check until now. With the descent of the Administrators, it matters not if any safeguards related to you are triggered… and if they are…”

Orodan had ways of delaying their detection for just long enough that it would work out in their favor.

He wasn’t normally the type to use tricks and strategy, but when a battle against an Administrator and its minions was imminent, and the secrets to bringing Zaessythra back were on the line… Orodan could occasionally tolerate working alongside others.

His eyes began glowing white as soul energy flowed through him. A brief glimpse into the timeline, that was all he needed to start.

[Time Mastery 92 → Time Mastery 93]

[Fate Reading 63 → Fate Reading 64]

Immediately, Orodan encountered resistance and numerous subtle signs that someone had ‘feelers’ out within Fenton’s timeline and tapestry of fate. Right away, even without proving anything else, this alone gave weight to the suspicions Zaessythra and Luetta had about the lad.

Why would anyone have feelers out upon the time stream for a random boy who was but thirteen summers of age?

Still, Orodan was no amateur at chronomancy. He’d tussled against Transcendents and reversed time for entire worlds. Admittedly, if he needed to remain secret while perusing Fenton’s time stream, it would’ve been a far more difficult task as whoever placed these feelers was his superior at chronomancy. But… Orodan was their superior in power.

The fortified room under Storven’s vaults trembled as Orodan threw soul energy enough into the time stream that the feelers and protection were utterly overwhelmed, and soon enough he had unfettered access to Fenton’s time stream.

“T-that feels sort o’ odd Mister Orodan!” Fenton said. “Like me life’s flashin’ before me eyes! I’m not about to die am I?”

“It feels as though it’s flashing because I’m looking through your past,” Orodan calmly explained. “While you may die as a result of your own idiotic decisions, it won’t be because of this.”

Of course, smashing past the protections on Fenton’s time stream had naturally caused something to detect that he’d done so. The System, he was sure of it. But that was fine… because Orodan had done this once when resurrecting his own parents, and now, with that knowledge in mind he knew how to mitigate the matter.

Ripples of detection echoed out through the timeline, headed for whoever had placed the protections…

…only for Orodan’s chronomantic control to smash even further into the river of time, sending it into a frenzy.

“That didn’t feel good at all…” Fenton said, appearing dizzy. “I’m recallin’ things that never happened…”

“A temporary side effect of me essentially giving the timeline a good kick. The shaking is causing you to experience events in your past from a different perspective,” Orodan informed. “It’s entirely harmless and will pass.”

Somebody else who’d dimensionally stepped into the vault didn’t think so.

“We’re under a chronomantic assault, the enemy might be moving earl-” she said and then narrowed her eyes. “This is you, isn’t it?”

“Aye. My suspicions were correct, Fenton has the eye of the System upon him,” Orodan explained.

“You’ll draw them here early and all will be lost!” Almyra protested, her hands glowing with energy ready to try and smooth things out.

“Not necessarily. Look at the time stream closely… do you think anyone will be pinpointing it to us anytime soon?” Orodan pointed out. “In fact, I made sure to give it enough of a chaotic jumble that it will take-”

“One week. Hmm… this can be worked with,” the previous looper agreed. “What have you found in his time stream? Anything significant?”

That was just the thing… there was nothing significant in Fenton’s time stream at all. No System interference at birth marking him as a time looper, nothing out of the ordinary besides a sick mother… and a dead father. But, maybe Orodan wasn’t looking in the right place.

After all, his parents too had been wrenched from him.

Thus, from Fenton’s time stream, Orodan hopped to Fanny’s, and almost immediately the resistance was nearly a hundred times greater.

He had to truly devote his power towards crushing the System’s protections upon Fanny Penny’s time stream. Countless alarms and detection traps were doubtlessly sprung, but with the pandemonium Orodan had caused within the river of time, it wouldn’t be pinpointed for a while, just as planned.

Yet, not even upon her birth did Fanny Penny have anything odd related to her. In fact, he had to stretch back almost a decade prior to where she was but an average soul, deceased and drawn into the cycle of rebirth to have memories of her past life purged within Lonvoron’s soul nexus. Reincarnators were exceptional individuals who could retain memories of their past lives. For most people, like Fanny Penny, resisting the erasure of those memories was unfeasible.

And there, in that metaphysical plane where Fanny Penny’s soul was cycling the vortex with trillions of others, he saw it.

The familiar torrent of System energy signifying the interference of a higher being. And the caster… an Arch-Devil wielding orb and hammer.

Orodan watched as the Custodian bestowed a horrific soul curse upon Fanny Penny. Just one more life the Arch-Devil had ruined, but to what end? Was it to prepare Fenton for being a time looper? Yet… the boy clearly wasn’t one.

Of course the System was involved here as well. How couldn’t it be? It made perfect sense. Fenton’s talent in Enchanting was simply far too high for him to be normal. If Orodan had noticed, then the System, through whatever mechanism it used to detect Orodan’s own talents upon his birth in Alastaia, likely did the same for Fenton Penny on Lonvoron. And from there… the Custodian came in and decided that the boy’s mother needed to be afflicted with a horrible curse.

Because of course, no time looper could have a happy, fulfilling life for some reason.

“I-is that… my father?” Fenton’s shaky voice interrupted as the lad was in a stupor. The boy must have been experiencing a past event from the perspective of another due to Orodan’s jumbling of the river of time.

Well, in for a copper, in for a silver. With the detection of the System and its Administrators no longer being a concern, Orodan cared not if he smashed through one more set of timeline protections.

He switched to one more time stream, closely related to Fenton… and locked away in an almost forgotten corner of Lonvoron’s soul nexus.

He watched as the heroic military captain, Fenton’s father, fought the Eldritch bravely on the front lines. Indeed, the man was an excellent shot with the revolver, something Fenton himself had somewhat inherited. Furthermore, their platoon seemed to be winning the battle too!

Of course… until Orodan felt the familiar stirring of System energy within the memory. The battle, once thought won, now became chaotic as a rift directly leading to the core of a plague world opened up directly in front of them. Hells, even the Eldritch on the other side seemed stupefied, their world core hadn’t opened the rift nor had the Prophet.

Yet, it wasn’t the plague which got Alfred Penny… but the heavy metal ball fired from a nearby cannon. System energy roiled around the projectile, diverting its path so that nothing remained of the brave man who just moments prior was heroically winning his battle.

Ruthless, ensuring that the man could not be infected and potentially saved later through a purge of the plague.

Just as cold and calculated as the death of Orodan’s parents had been, designed to create the perfect environment of poverty and suffering.

But no more. Orodan had seen one family too many destroyed by the System. It ended here.

[Time Reversal 86 → Time Reversal 87]

His eyes glowed as he smashed past the System’s modest but ineffective blocks to stopping him. They might have been a hard barrier for any other chronomancer but for him they folded like paper in a storm as he threw multiple star systems’ worth of soul energy into the spell.

Compared to when he’d resurrected his parents, he’d grown even stronger. Not only had Incipience of Infinity gained levels since then, but his training in harnessing the elements and infusing his body with them had the transferable benefit of making his control over soul energy just a bit better.

After all, energy was energy. And learning how to house titanic amounts of fire had at least some crossover improvement in how much soul energy he could handle. It further validated Orodan’s thought that studying and truly mastering each and every type of energy he encountered could only be of benefit to him.

Finally, as the man was yanked backwards in time, restored to his prime and then dragged into the chamber they stood within, the light from Orodan’s body finally faded.

Almyra was looking at him almost fearfully. If she hadn’t believed his claims about being capable of generating endless power before, she certainly looked as though she did now.

But Fenton… Fenton’s eyes couldn’t leave the figure of the man who’d been summoned unto the chamber.

“…da?”

“What the hell even happened? What’s goin’ on here?” the man asked, dazed and coming to. “Someone get me a status report on them bloody cannons. I swear, one more misfire and I’ll lose it.”

“Da! Da it’s… it’s actually you!” Fenton exclaimed.

Orodan smiled. Perhaps things could be set right after all.

Almyra the previous looper however, was anything but smiling. The two of them immediately departed the chamber, both giving Fenton and his resurrected father some privacy, and so that the woman could let off what was on her mind.

“What in the Collective was that?!” she demanded. “I- I felt how much power you generated! What are you?”

“You’ve received my whole story already. Need I repeat it once more?” Orodan asked.

This visibly calmed her down.

“No, I’ve merely lost my calm at the sight of such a ridiculous feat. Hearing what you recounted is one thing, seeing it is another. You really are Boundless aren’t you?” she asked, her gaze towards him now different. Almost fearful. “Using your Celestial skill to overpower the Mantle is one thing. But to generate power rivalling entire star systems…”

“Surely you didn’t drag me aside just to talk about that? You already know the answers, and I cannot help you accept them any faster in your own head,” Orodan reminded.

“You speak truth. Your power is impressive… it opens up further options for us during the upcoming battle we face,” the previous looper said. “But before that, the matter of the boy bears further investigation. I too was riding the trail of your entry into the river of time, and what I saw… displeased me.”

“If Fenton’s life suffered from interference…” Orodan muttered.

“Then so did mine…!” she finished angrily. “The System will pay for what it has done to me, to us.”

“Setting things right will come in due time. But Fenton’s relation to the time loops is still something I don’t quite understand,” Orodan said. “I’ve been meaning to see someone about that for a while now… how about we pay them a visit? Want to tag along?”

#

“Blessings of the light be upon you visitors, what might the Conclave aid you with- K-King Alstatyn?! Apologies your grace, I wasn’t aware someone of your stature would be paying us a visit today! You’re not even with your personal guard!”

“It was a…” Alstatyn muttered, looking at Almyra. “…spur of the moment trip. We can only apologize for our sudden entry without warning. Might we meet with the on-duty commander?”

“Yes your grace, Captain-General Ryzlan is currently paying us a visit to resolve some inter-galactic matters and supersedes the authority of anyone else at our branch. We can take you to see him,” the knight of the Conclave guarding the front gates said.

Orodan had been here once, but quite briefly, merely for the purposes of using the grand teleportation array here to move between galaxies and flee an enraged Prophet. This time he had no plans of fleeing to this glowing gold fortress in the void with his tail between his legs.

Alstatyn had been all too happy to come along. Almyra simply wasn’t well-known, the natural consequence of hiding herself in an alternate dimension and guiding the war effort and her own experiments remotely. In this case, a King’s clout certainly helped secure a faster audience than two random individuals did.

The glowing gilded halls of pure gold sparkled and irritated Orodan’s visual sensibilities, and he thought the holy warriors of the Conclave could use a little less polish upon their excessively decorated armor, but these men and women at least looked as though they could stand reliably in a fight and dish out as good as they got in any melee confrontation.

Their faction-wide vulnerability to the elemental plane of light and the Prophet’s corruption of it was an unfortunate downside, but one Orodan had accounted for. There would be no surprise entrance of Eldritch corrupted Conclave knights and paladins on the enemy side this time.

The knight of the conclave led their party into a grand hall, where a glowing golden armored man who Orodan recalled from one of his long loops was speaking.

“What do you mean things have been going missing? This is a complaint equivalent to rats stealing from a larder,” the Captain-General said, though not with any heat. “I’ve come here to re-distribute our forces and that’s what you tell me?”

“Apologies Captain-General… I saw fit to inform you given that one of the things stolen were the famous five rings of Saint Vulferon. We do not know how the thief even got in sir…”

“One mess after another… for now move all treasures back to our main base of operations in the Athranos Galaxy. The Hegemony has been increasing their border activity ever since a few Gods were killed in their section of the divine dimension,” the Captain-General said.

“Gods… killed? Such an escalation of force. The weapons needed to do that…”

“Would be severe. Or the individual capable of it, exceedingly deadly. In any case, while we are not the ones who have done this, it is best to remain on guard lest Agrimon and his dogs act recklessly in their attempts to track down whoever did,” the Captain-General said. Orodan of course, knew that the cause of the deaths of Agathor, Eximus and Ilyatana had been him and him alone. In any case, the peak-God’s gaze fell to them. “Visitors? And brought directly without notice? Oh! Alstatyn!”

The God dismounted his golden horse and walked forward to clasp the King’s hand. As a God, maintaining direct physical presence within the material plane was costly, often exceedingly so. Yet Captain-General Ryzlan, leader of the Conclave, was one of the few known to do so at all times. A combination of the expensive artifacts Orodan sensed on him, and the large amounts of worship from his faithful.

“It is good to see you Ryzlan. Trouble at home?” the King asked.

“Unfortunate business which has led to a lot of finger-pointing. Nothing to concern yourself with. How might we aid you?”

“In fact, it’s my companions here who need your help,” Alstatyn said gesturing towards Orodan.

“Alagameth the Silent Oracle, he is one of your Embodiment-level beings is he not?” Orodan asked.

“Why yes… elder Alagameth is a famed member of the Conclave, one of the founder’s personal disciples. Why do you ask?”

“I need to speak to him,” Orodan said, and upon seeing the Captain-General’s face blanch, continued. “I’m aware he’s a bit… reclusive, but that’s fine. If you have any way of getting a message out to him, simply let him know that Orodan Wainwright wishes to see him… and will owe him a favor.”

“You have met him? I sense you are a peak-Transcendent yourself… mighty too,” the Captain-General said, sizing Orodan up but in a respectful manner. “This certainly breaks all convention and protocol, to send a message to the elder. He has not graced any location of our holy organization in many millennia.”

“Consider it a favor to me,” Alstatyn chimed in. “The Blackworth Collective would be in your debt and happily assist with whatever inroads you’re trying to make in our galaxy.”

“I must profess, news of your Collective beating back the plague across all your worlds has our advisors and generals intrigued. Perhaps we can discuss technological advancements and the sharing of resources after this,” the Captain-General said. “Very well warrior. King Alstatyn considers you a friend and so shall I. The message shall be sent right away, though I make no promises about the response… if any.”

That part, Orodan wasn’t concerned about.

Good as his word, the Conclave’s highest ranking member used a strange artifact to send a message out unto the void between galaxies. It wasn’t overly complicated, and he felt Fenton could do a better job with the enchantments, but the simple function of sending a receivable message out across tremendous distances where a receiver attuned to it could receive wasn’t complicated.

“Now then, let us catch up and talk Ryzlan. How is Sujana? Is that woman still going around angrily dispensing justice upon any ‘evildoers’ she sees?” Alstatyn asked.

“Why sometimes I wonder if I should step down and let that woman take over… let me tell you…”

They bickered and bantered, and it was apparent that Alstatyn was King of the Blackworth Collective for a reason. The man wasn’t arrogant in the slightest and somehow managed to make even the seemingly uptight and prude members of the Conclave open up without issue.

Minutes of conversation turned to an hour.

“And then, those obstinate cultivators continue to insist on remaining sequestered within their cluster and refuse to allow us to send aid. Trade has been miserable-”

Orodan sensed it before anyone else did. The spatial force wrapping around him was gentle, not aggressive, but it was certainly swift. Still, with his level of power, forcefully teleporting him elsewhere was beyond even an Embodiment of space. And Orodan had honed his abilities in spatiomancy against Alagameth himself.

But Orodan allowed it, extending the wrap to Almyra too.

One moment they were within the golden halls of the Conclave’s fortress, and the next… within a warped bubble of space sequestered from the void between galaxies outside.

Almyra’s entire body roiled with mana, protective and illusory spells activating and the Mantle around her not charged, but ready to be used at any point.

“You,” she hissed, a distorted voice which gave nothing of her identity away.

“You bring an upstart who does not recognize her betters into what should have been a meeting between us alone, time looper?” Alagameth asked.

“You told him about the loops? How naive can you be? He’s a personal disciple of our enemy…”

“Both of you, calm yourselves,” Orodan said, his voice laced with the intimidation effect of Incipience of Infinity taking effect. Nothing too harsh, but enough that they would cease hostilities. “Alagameth is no lackey of the Prophet. I sensed no usage of the elemental plane of light within him during our numerous battles. And Alagameth, this one might be a prickly and most paranoid schemer… but means you no harm.”

“Considering that we fought in battle all for them to drive me away from the borders of the Vystaxium Galaxy a few millennia ago, I would dispute that,” Alagameth said. “What’s your reason for bringing us together?”

“I did say I would owe you a favor, and I always repay my debts,” Orodan said. “But really, we’re here because we need a fate reader. And the Transcendent Treadways within the Collective aren’t on your level.”

“And what, pray tell, might you require a fate reader for? If it’s to understand what’s occurring with the tapestry of fate and reality itself, I do not know. An Embodier has ascended, with power enough that the cosmos and reality itself shook. I do not know what they will be the herald of… but it can only be the promise of cataclysm,” Alagameth stated, and then his beady spider eyes homed in on Orodan, and he stilled as Orodan calmly looked at him. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“It was, but I didn’t reach the Embodiment-level,” Orodan answered.

“But then… all that chaos came from just…”

“Yes, it’s as you’re thinking. Now, let me explain what’s been going on with us, and in turn I could use your help with reading my fate and seeing if there’s any connection between me and a certain boy upon Lonvoron, and her as well for that matter…”

#

Orodan stared up into the night sky. The stars seeming so distant and yet so close. After a full day’s work on the project with Clyburn, it was over halfway complete. Who knew when the Prophet would pinpoint their location? Almyra said they had less than a week, but Orodan refused to take that for granted and hoped to finish by the next day.

“Once upon a time, I used to look upon those glowing bright orbs and wonder how vast existence must be, and it certainly still is…”

“But it’s a little muted when you can just reach out and walk upon their surfaces or shatter them like pebbles,” Zaessythra finished. “I suppose I understand. When I reached Transcendence long ago, my people venerated me; I was proud of myself and the accomplishment. For so long had I craved it, strived for it. But when I had it… t’was just another stepping stone on the path upwards.”

“I wonder if that ascent will continue forever. You know… I’m not that old in comparison to you…” Orodan trailed off.

“Calling me a cradle robber are you?” she asked, amused.

“Hah! Not at all, if anything, I’ve always had a certain interest in older women. I naturally find myself drawn to you after all,” Orodan said, entertained by the feeling of embarrassment he felt off her. “But what I mean is… this pursuit of power, I wonder if it ever has an endpoint.”

“For most, I believe it does. As we grow in might, the horizons around us grow just a little closer, and that box around us closes in just a slight bit more,” Zaessythra said. “Then again, I have only ever been a Transcendent. Not an Embodier, nor an Administrator and certainly not a Boundless One. Who am I to say how these beings feel about your question.”

“The Custodian admitted he wanted me to kill him. Cold and callous Arch-Devil that he is, I still felt pity for him when he said those words,” Orodan admitted.

“Trust an Arch-Devil to say something likely to evoke sympathy in you many loops later. You sure it wasn’t planned?” she suggested. “But… even if it was, I suppose the admission revealed something about immortality to you, didn’t it?”

“It’s a lonely path upwards, and that box will continue to grow smaller and smaller as I grow larger and larger,” Orodan admitted.

“For most maybe. But for you… I can’t even fathom what you’ll become. Boundless Ones? When you step into the embrace of that Celestial skill of yours fully… I don’t know how much of your humanity you retain,” Zaessythra said.

That wasn’t wrong. Incipience of Infinity was a scary skill. Orodan, who knew no fear otherwise, was genuinely wary of his own Celestial skill, of his own anomalous will which drove it beyond what anyone else should have been capable of. If he descended unto it again, entered it fully… would he lost himself entirely?

He was determined to ensure the answer was no.

Zaessythra was counting on him, as was everyone else.

Which included his favorite eight-legged bully who winked into existence beside him.

“And where’ve you been?” Orodan asked.

“Acquiring things to bolster my collection. I see you’re slacking off… tsk, tsk!” Talricto lectured.

“Hardly, even now I’m working to perfect the body enchantment method Fenton and I have been developing,” Orodan said. “And if you want someone to blame for the lull, find Clyburn. I worked so fast and at such intensity that we’ve caught up to the blueprints and need him to review and finalize the designs for various sections. I have plenty of parts sitting in reserve too.”

The two levels gained in Blacksmithing and Laboring were proof of that.

“Hmm… I can tolerate that excuse. I shall go have words with Clyburn,” Talricto said. “But how did your meeting with that uptight preacher go? Find what you were looking for?”

“There’s certainly a connection… but neither of us know what, in Fenton’s case at least,” Orodan admitted.

Alagameth had read both his and Almyra’s fates and then closely scrutinized them for any cross-connection between Fenton. The results were positive of course, in fact the spatial spider admitted that he likely threw Orodan towards Port Bellgrave the very first time because of that thin connection.

Yet, even the Silent Oracle had his limits. Alagameth was forced to end the task with the final warning that the common factor between the three of them led to a singular being well above his power. Orodan no longer had said connection, but Fenton and Almyra did.

An Administrator, or perhaps even worse… the Boundless One.

It all but outright confirmed that Fenton was in some way related to the time loops, or should have been if Orodan hadn’t taken them over.

“Hmm, a shame. While you were off achieving nothing, I made several critical acquisitions which might aid our forces,” Talricto said.

Critical acquisitions indeed. Orodan could only sigh with resignation as he glanced at the brace of five rings hung upon a necklace off of Talricto’s head. Who knew when that would come back to bite them?

“I’m just surprised you’re aiding us at all, this isn’t your fight Talricto,” Orodan reminded. “You’re more than free to leave.”

“And miss out on the entertainment? I think not,” the spider replied. “And if I go, who’ll supervise your training? You still have so many holes in your skillset. Why, even a juvenile of my species could teach you a thing or two.”

“If you’re trying to goad me into a spar, I accept,” Orodan said, getting to his feet.

Although as he did, he could only guiltily think about what the Talricto of an older loop had told him.

“A what?” the spider asked, and then vigorously shook its head and legs. “You know what? No. I refuse to hear it. And I refuse to give you my name. Soon you’ll tell me your whole life story, and then I somehow get roped into following you around, and before I know it, I’ll be getting into all sorts of dangerous situations. The elders would often tell stories about you two-legs, especially humans. Your kind are always up to no good and you tend to drag the rest of us civilized folk in with you. And I’m taking a stand here and now and want no part of it.”

“You’d better not die.”

“What was that?” Talricto asked, sending a wave of dimensional force towards him.

“Nothing… forget about it.”

In a week, or perhaps less, the answer would come to him whether he wanted it or not.

Long loops.

Orodan couldn’t help but hate them.

He’d learned enough times by now to dread the coming storm on the calm eve before a loop-ending battle.

Perhaps though… he’d had just about enough with these Administrators coming by to ruin his loops.

They’d certainly beaten on him and killed him enough times after all.

His hand clenched into a fist as determination blazed in his eyes.

Perhaps it was time Orodan took a stand and decided to hit back.

For too long had he lost.

Maybe it was time to actually win.