The screens that line the Sarcophagus's control station ceaselessly play the surveillance feeds, dimly illuminating the room. I do not bother with cycling through the various cameras, that was merely a show for the Transmigrator's benefit. Now that he is absent, I directly access the video through the console itself, parsing through multiple streams simultaneously, scanning for anything of interest. Dimly illuminated by the electric radiance is the slumbering form of Commander Hernandez, snoring away on the floor as he recovers from the surgery I had performed on him.

I can see, but I cannot touch. Reduced to being a voyeur, to all appearances I have been rendered impotent, giving Fate a free hand on the surface of The City. But I am not without resources. Fate underestimates me at its own peril. Just because I have been rendered partially blind does not mean that my influence cannot extend to the surface. There are ways for me to strike back. I just need to employ some degree of creative thinking.

I had told the Transmigrator that I did not know what Fate and the servant were planning. That was not a lie. Sending the Transmigrator up to the surface to investigate is no fool's errand. But this is not my first battle with Fate. I have been on the receiving end of her deceptions before and can make a fair guess at what the ultimate aim of her plans are. Subversion. Treachery. Fate fights by getting others to fight for her. The native rebellions that she had fomented against me all those centuries ago. The braying mobs that heckled me on the day of my supposed execution. I did not forget.

I still remember.

If Fate thinks that it can rouse the natives against me this time, it is sorely mistaken. The City may be sealed off from my direct influence, but I control this world's climate. It is child's play for me to drop the temperature of the surrounding area. Fate's power, no matter how great, cannot keep the force of nature at bay indefinitely. The deep freeze has already begun to bite into The City, and if the Sarcophagus's monitoring systems are correct, casualties among the residents have begun to mount from the cold. The native herd, given a salutary culling through this preventive measure, will be in no position to raise their hands against me.

Things by every measure, are going well. The Hero has impregnated all three Heroines. Nicholas von Amsterg has been badly injured and unlikely to be able to recover in time for the duel. The Hero with his reactivated powers and assisted by Heroine von Amsterg, is more than a match for Marshal St Clair. The Hero will win the duel, inherit the von Amsterg territory and be the catalyst of a new world war, saving my life.

Yes, saving my life. Right from the start, it was never about saving the world. I would have liked to have made that reveal to the Transmigrator and revel at the dumbfounded look on his face, but then again, the man has already been vocal about his suspicions of my motivations. More to the point, I doubt that he would care much. Unlike his fellows taken to other realities, my Transmigrator never integrated or formed connections with the people of this dimension. Some of this was planned on my part, though much I suspect, boiled down to the Transmigrator's singular nature.

Fate had managed to weaken the dimensional barriers enough to trigger the Millennium War. That conflict caught me off guard and when the nuclear strikes were launched by the P5, I had to scramble to ensure that the fighting was contained within the world of man. But I succeeded despite the carnage that Fate wrought. With my help from the shadows, humanity managed to fight both the Legion and the Host to a standstill, forcing a truce into existence. Fate had failed to unite the natives through conquest. Just as it had failed previously to unite them through 'love'.

Then why am I feeling so nervous?

Because just as I refuse to accept a usurper, Fate is not going to lie back and accept my plans. Thanks to Enma, Fate has the knowledge of how to bypass my dimensional barriers. And that knowledge in turn fell into the hands of the Legion, Host and P5. Sealing all three factions completely away from each other was no longer possible, so during the Millennium War I instead strengthened the barriers to the north and south, the hidden places of this world. My hopes to keep these hidden places inviolate were foiled when Naiberg survived his journey north, using blood sacrifice to force open a safe route through the barrier.

Several lives spent and the intervention of a god, just to ensure the safe passage of a single man on a single plane. An impressive feat no doubt, but something that did not worry me at the time. After all, such tight limits on what could survive the voyage meant that my secret was safe from Fate. Whatever she sent against my secret, even if it survived the journey through the barrier, would hardly be able to accomplish anything. After all, what could a single plane sized object do? It was a far cry from the army Fate had sent before on their failed errand.

Then the P5 began launching their nuclear missiles. And I saw just what small objects could do in this modern age. I had allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of security, believing that the war would not escalate so far. The sudden reappearance of the codex began to make sense from that point onward. I needed the Millennium War to end quickly before the codex could be activated and deployed against me.

So I swung my support in favor of the P5, bogging down the conflict and preventing a clear resolution from emerging. But destiny demands that the conflict between the three worlds be resolved, one way or the other. Fate had gotten the ball rolling, and I was not strong enough to stop it entirely. I did what I could, spawning the Hero to divert the stream of destiny on to a new path, dictating the war in such a fashion that would hurt Fate and not myself.

The console beeps affirmatively as it makes the connection with the Six Trees hideout. Excellent, Alley had completed her task and established a link with the hideout and the Sarcophagus through a data port. I begin to build the umbilical to the Six Trees Hideout using the underground fiber optic line, reestablishing my control over the place of power. My metaphorical limbs stretch, tension disappearing as invisible muscles flex in readiness for action.

Alley has chosen to rest at the hideout instead of leaving. Most curious. I will leave her to be dealt with by the Transmigrator, there are other more pressing matters to be handled currently. A mental command from me activates the laptop at the hideout and it begins to linkup with The City's municipal and more importantly, ORPO's own systems. The security programs on these systems are quickly crushed and I gain full, if mundane access. Its so much more trouble to do things this way instead of commanding by fiat, but until the Transmigrator can solve the mystery of what is going up on the surface, it will have to do.

Annoyance builds as I try and fail to regain control of my airborne drone network. I had managed to seize control of a base transmission tower to send wireless transmissions out, but Fate's influence prevents me from perceiving the response from the drones. Annoying, but at least I can send an order for the drones to standby for now. My attention turns back to a nondescript pillar in the control station. Completely ordinary, with no unusual features to draw the eye or raise suspicion. Normal for all intents and purposes.

Other than being the hiding place for the codex.

Salvation slumbers, heedless of the world turning. There's power here, power outside of my own existence. I should have insisted to the Transmigrator that the codex should have been destroyed. But the Transmigrator is right. The codex is valuable. It represents an alien force that had brought me low before. I need to study it, absorb its secrets, so that I am ready to deal with any future interlopers into my dimension. The codex is dangerous to me, but it also offers an opportunity for me to grow more powerful than ever before.

Excitement bubbles deep within me. The codex was my ruin. But I would be remiss in not learning from my mistakes. And I now have an agent, no two agents of my own. One day if all goes well this crisis will be over. Then perhaps ...

I should start looking further afield?