I don't have time to play around on the Naiberg and Friends show. The codex is right in front of me and all it takes to save myself is a single stroke from the shin gunto. There's also the problem of the Hero completely flipping out in the glass holding cell. The Hero's fists pound against the glass and I can see small cracks beginning to from as a result of the onslaught. Once he manages to break out, its almost a guarantee that his programming will compel the Hero to go on a rampage in order to save the Idol. That's another complication I am not going to stick around to deal with.

As Castiel groans impotently on the floor from his broken leg, I lunge towards the cabinet with the sword raised high. Naiberg's dismembered hand leaps into the air at the same time, moving its fingers about in arcane patterns. A surge of magic erupts from the hand and erects a barrier surrounding both the holding cell and the cabinet looking contraption. My sword glides harmlessly across the barrier as the spirit shard animating the hand completely disintegrates. The wandering limb falls to the ground with a wet thump as it begins to melt away into a foul smelling puddle.

"Why the hurry Mr Gallant?" Naiberg asks solicitously, pushing the wheelchair bearing the fossil towards the center of the room, "I just got to the party after all. Keep me company for a bit, alright?"

Castiel glares venomously at Naiberg and makes a grab for his saber that lies discarded nearby. Naiberg just mirthlessly chuckles at this sight and prods the fossil's broken leg with the tip of his foot, sending Castiel into another paroxysm of pain.

I kick the barrier one more time, more out of frustration than anything else, before turning to face Naiberg. I level the shin gunto at him threateningly but he looks just as leisurely as ever, as if none of us are a real threat to him.

"If you think your gimmick of having plenty of lives to spend is going to work here, think again." I warn Naiberg, "There's an army just outside the gates of this place, and its more than enough to kill you as many times as it takes."

Instead of responding, Naiberg places an index finger on on his lips with a shushing noise and points towards the screen mounted on the wall. Both Castiel and I turn our attention to the screen with the technobabble scrolling across it. I still have no idea what in the world the data means, but Castiel immediately panics at what he is seeing.

"The soul smasher is putting too much pressure on Salvation." Castiel hisses, "Even if you manage to open it this way Naiberg, the knowledge within it will be lost."

Naiberg snorts dismissively, "Who cares about that? The knowledge within Salvation is just bait to delude small minds into thinking they have struck gold. The real treasure is buried underneath."

"No." Castiel moans in despair, "You overstep Naiberg! Know your place!"

"What's going on?" I whisper to The Voice.

"Not a clue," comes the signature rasp, "but stay alert Transmigrator. You are rapidly heading towards the divergence point."

As I am having my private conversation with The Voice, the crimson noose on Castiel's neck eases up and the Incarnate exhales with a sigh of relief. No longer needing to resist Fate's influence, Castiel flares his core and forces himself back up to his feet, broken leg and all, while scooping up the saber. Naiberg however looks distinctively unimpressed by what's happening. The fingernail of his index finger lengthens and sharpens into a vicious looking claw.

And with a single smooth motion, Naiberg slits the fossil's throat just as Castiel begins to rush forward to attack.

Castiel hits the ground hard, gurgling incoherently as his hands paw at his neck. The red mesh crackles furiously, as if Fate is trying to jolt the Incarnate back into action, but all it manages to do is get Castiel to assume a fetal position as the agony of the fossil's wounds begins to overwhelm him.

"Rooted to the three worlds, the nine gates of ascension open." Naiberg pronounces grandly, "That is Salvation's true function isn't it Mike? That was the reason why the goddess made the journey north, wasn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Castiel croaks.

"Liar!" Naiberg roars and slams his fist against the fossil's head. Castiel curls into a ball and cowers helplessly before the Archmage.

"I've examined the legends." Naiberg snaps, "I've even been north myself. It was no coincidence that the goddess needed three companions from each of the three worlds. Three companions devoted in body, mind and soul to the goddess. Three by three is the number that will open the nine gates of ascension!"

The Voice growls menacingly in my ear, "I will never allow this. Never ever."

So that's what the divergence point is all about. Naiberg wants to be reborn as a new god. And the instability both The Voice and I had stirred up has given him the opportunity to make the attempt.

I raise a hand to get Naiberg's attention and the man looks at me with a surprisingly pleasant expression.

"Yes, questions Mr Gallant?" Naiberg asks in a friendly tone.

"Your goddess had her three cucks." I point out, "And from what I see, you don't have the equivalent. The gates of ascension are going to remain closed no matter what you do."

Naiberg hums contentedly and replies, "Well, there's Mike here, the stand in from the land of light. The Judecca Militia have their roots originating from the eternal abyss of darkness. And there's you, hailing from the world of man, physically at any rate. I daresay all the ingredients are available for the work to commence."

"I'm not going to be your cuck." I answer flatly.

"Neither will I open the gates for you traitor." Castiel wheezes from the floor, "Milady will punish you for this betrayal. Mark my words."

"Oh, that's where you're both wrong." Naiberg tuts, "The legends say that the goddess possessed the bodies, hearts and souls of her companions. It never said anything about it being voluntary."

"Of course we all agree -" Castiel protests, but before he can complete what he's saying, Naiberg springs into action. The barrier protecting the soul smasher drops and Naiberg gives the wheelchair a hard push sending the fossil rolling towards the device. The wheelchair slams into the cabinet with an earsplitting crash and the glass panels shatter, allowing jets of black flame to escape from the machine's interior.

The fossil, exposed the flames, erupts like a pile of dry tinder and begins to burn merrily in the center of the room. Castiel shrieks like a wounded animal as his spiritual body is shrouded in flames as well. He frantically rolls around on the floor, furiously beating his fists against the fire, trying to put it out. The red thread twists about desperately, attempting vainly to resist the damage being done. Its all no use though, as the flames devour Castiel's spiritual body, causing it to explode into golden shards which eventually drift away on the wind.

"Living sacrifice." Naiberg sighs contentedly, "The best sacrifice."

As the fossil crumbles into a heap of ash, I hear a clicking noise coming from the cabinet. The codex begins to rotate at its resting place, its round, smooth surface beginning to open up like the bud of a flower. From the depths of the codex, I sense a surge of energy, far more potent than anything I have experienced before. Naiberg leers in anticipation, his beady eyes locked on to the codex, drool dripping from his chin. In the background, the Hero continues to pound away at the walls of his cell, completely forgotten by everyone.

"An artificial synchronicity event." The Voice breathes, "So that is how Fate managed to ascend to divinity."

I understand now. My prize for derailing the death route is not just my safety in this world, but also the means to return home. And now Naiberg wants to steal it from me. My grip tightens over the shin gunto. Only one of us is walking out of this place alive.

The clicking from the codex stops and Naiberg turns to look expectantly at me. "Three of the nine gates have opened." he says, "Its time for you to do your part Mr Gallant."

"I've got plans of my own for the thingamajig." I swing the sword in challenge, "And those plans most certainly don't involve a freaky nudist."

"Now, that won't do at all." Naiberg sneers as his clothes tear apart from the force of multiple arms sprouting from his torso, "How inconsiderate of you."

I hear the sounds of fighting drawing closer, the scissor wolves must have almost broken through the barricade. Both Naiberg and I regard each other in silence, muscles straining in anticipation for what is to come.

The black flames begin to spread across the lab, and the technicians cry out in panic.

"Transmigrator -" The Voice rasps, but I cut it off.

"I know." I whisper, "I got this."

And for the last time, Naiberg and I rush at each other, the destiny of two gods resting in our hands.