This is ridiculous.

There are hundreds of cheering people in front of our fortifications; it looks like our propaganda efforts went very well. The inhabitants of the Tunnels are shouting my name, and they are overjoyed after my little display of power. This was the intended result, but even I couldn't predict that it would work so well, especially considering the rather cold attitude that the natives had regarding the Order.

Who could have guessed that effectively nuking an essential base of their sworn enemies would make my reputation skyrocket?

I retract my armor before smiling and waving at the crowd. This causes the cheers to erupt even more, and I swear that I saw some flakes of dried paint falling from the ceiling. A sigh escapes my mouth, now is an excellent opportunity to advertise our recruitment campaign.

However, I'm bad at speeches.

I take a deep breath and shout as loudly as I can, "People of the Tunnels! Today, I've shown that you no longer have to fear the Invaders!"

A loud roar comes from the crowd, and I pause until it calms down. "But this is just the beginning! The Order can save you all, gives you a better life! You will come under my divine protection, and I'll gladly recruit any of you who wants to join our fight against tyranny and oppression!"

A second of silence pass, then another.

Cold sweat starts to form on my forehead, did I do something wrong?

I am about to Rewind when an even louder roar makes my stomach tremble.

"I'll join! Death to those bastards!" someone says.

"Prometheus saved us!" another shout reaches my ear, and I refrain from grinning.

"We will crush anyone who opposes Prometheus!"

ThAt's NiCe!

Even the voice is happy, and for once it isn't because I'm murdering people.

I turn towards Terrence, who was behind me since I teleported back to the camp. From his smug grin, he's rather pleased with the current situation. "Finally, they finally see the light..." he mutters.

I'll act like I never heard that, I sometimes forget that I'm the leader of a cult of fanatics.

"Please allocate some personnel to handle the recruitment, and report to me at the end of the day," I say to the Commander, who nods before going back to into the camp.

"Now, let's see how this will go," I mutter when I spot Taanyth's figure in the back of the crowd. From the way he looks at me, he wants to talk.

I hope he won't be asking something ridiculous. I'm the non-official ruler of this place, so he better not oppose me or make some silly request.

It's with those thoughts running into my head that I teleport near him. The mana-spewing portals shock more than a few people, some gasp while others are kneeling while muttering nonsense about my divine nature.

"Well, do you want to say something to me?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. This time, I think that intimidating him with a quick burst of aura isn't necessary since my earlier display should have been more than convincing enough.

The old elf-like creature nods, "Yes, can we speak more privately?"

"Of course," I reply before freezing the timeline until I find the coordinates of his mansion. It takes a bit of trial and error because of the Shard's nature, but I'm sure that what I'm about to do will make me look cool.

A portal appears under the elder and his escorts' feet, and they don't even have time to scream before they sink into the portal. I make another one and appear just in front of the shocked group.

"T-This is..." he says while trying to catch his breath before kneeling. "I-I'm sorry to have ever doubted your divine nature, great Prometheus."

I don't say anything to stay in character. I was confident that the Portal Gun would reinforce my divine image. This situation makes me think about a quote I saw on the Internet a long time ago: 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'

Well, this applies here. I mean, the Portal Gun is magical, but you get the idea. Something like my equipment must be like divine artifacts to a group whose highest technical accomplishment is a pointy stick.

"Don't worry about it," I say before prompting the old man to stand back up. "So why did you want to talk to me?"

"While you are now, without doubt, the leader of the Tunnels, there are still some other factions that are opposed to us. And they must trouble your efforts of unifying the Shard." The old man declares.

This is the first time that I've heard about other factions, wouldn't it make more sense to cooperate against the Invaders?

Confusion must've been visible on my face, so the old man continues his explanation. "You see, us Ilffs aren't the only race trapped in this Shard."

Now that I think about it, the people we encountered weren't like the long-eared Ilffs of the Tunnels. This name also sounds eerily similar to Elves, and they also have long ears so maybe they are related?

"All the races have formed their groups as a way to fight against the Invaders... As you already saw, it wasn't going well until you arrived," he says before sighing. It looks like he remembers some painful memories, so I don't say anything until he speaks again. "But these groups quickly came to blows over access to the dwindling number of functional Diving Stations."

"Diving Stations?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. It's the first time that I've heard the term.

Taanyth nods, "Yes, they are part of the relics strewn around the Shard that is from eons ago. They are what houses the Diving Suits, impossibly complex suits of armors that allows us to cross through the gaps between dimensions to reach the Surface to gather food and the likes."

Holy shit that sounds very interesting.

"What do you mean by Surface?" I think he means the Bazaar, but it doesn't hurt to ask.

"A large dimension filled with various shops as far as the eye can see, it's populated with a myriad of creatures that we have never seen before... Didn't you come from the Surface?" he asks with a confused expression.

Oh boy, his description matches the Bazaar. His explanation confirms that their Diving Suits allows them to travel between dimensions without teleportation, so it could be worth looking into. I bet we could reverse-engineer it, or at least upgrade our existing armors with this technology.

But it's a bit saddening to hear that they think that the only option other than living in a Shard is residing in the Bazaar. They'll be shocked beyond measure when I show them an actual planet.

"There exist worlds beyond your wildest dreams, and one day I will lead your people there." I say, "But what other artifacts do these Stations contain?"

"I only know of one other artifact, but I've never seen one myself. It's a story passed down from our ancestors, they speak of something called 'Dimensional Harpoon.' Those stories say that they are legendary artifacts capable of fusing two Shards, but I doubt it's true..." Taanyth's voice trails off at the end of his sentence.

Fucking hell, I'll need to investigate this. Making my Shard bigger while potentially gaining access to more population and gang infrastructure is hard to ignore.

But first of all, let's check out those Diving Stations.

"So where is the nearest of those Stations?" I ask while feigning disinterest. I can't be too excited, or it might raise suspicions.

"We only have one under our control, but I'll gladly assign one of our Divers to guide you there." He says, and I nod in approval. If those stations are contested areas, then it's better to claim them in my name before another faction decide to take them for themselves. My little display against the gangs should have cemented us as the leading power in the area, and nobody should be foolish enough to fight us.

But I don't have a lot of faith in the local faction leaders. My experience taught me that these people are usually unable to understand their situation correctly. And I have to be diplomatic since shooting everyone is going to deplete my pool of potential recruits and make the other factions hate us.

Hurray for politics!

It's in times like these that I understand the Terrence approach to public relations. After all, you don't have to bother with politics if there aren't any other factions.

Nevertheless, I suppress a sigh and address the ex-leader, "Got it, then bring him to my camp, I'll wait there." I then teleport away while relishing in the surprised gasp of Taanyth and his guards.

"Prometheus," Someone greets me as soon as I appear, and I return their salute before going towards the commanding tent.

But something stops me in my tracks. I didn't notice it at first, but four sizable queues are leading to different tents.

I ask a nearby cultist about the reason behind the large amount of Ilffs, "They are the people who want to join us. Each queue is for a different branch of the Order: The Legion, the Inquisition, the Fabricators, and the newly created Crimson Administration."

Oh, so Terrence made the administration its own thing? It's a good idea. The Order is snowballing so we will not be able to rely on the small administration we had before. I take a glance at the queues and notice a specific logo on the tents. The majority of the Ilffs are either going to join the Legion or the Inquisition, the queue for the Administration is not even half as large, and the line for the Fabricators is sparse.

It doesn't surprise me, people living in such horrible conditions don't have the time nor the access to the knowledge necessary to make a good Fabricator, so I can't blame them. But this could be a problem, the Fabricators are too few to complete the numerous projects we have planned, so we need to recruit more skilled people if we want to make reasonable progress.

We could also start an education program, but we don't have the workforce to implement it. And it would take the time that we don't have to properly teach everything someone needs to know to be a useful Fabricator.

In the end, we are still gaining soldiers, so I can't complain. Training them is going to take some time, but I won't bother teaching them any spells. We need them to be operational as soon as possible, so we'll have to show them how to use our weapons instead.

But this isn't my problem, for now, I have to focus on those Diving Stations that Taanyth mentioned. The existence of Diving Suits changes things. They could provide the missing link that could make the Portal Gun project a reality.

Now I have to wait until the Diver arrives. I sit around for twenty minutes, but I quickly become bored. Twiddling my thumbs doesn't sound like a good idea, so-

"Prometheus!" a cultist runs towards me.

Of course, something had to go wrong. I can't even have a fucking second of peace.

"Yes?" I say while maintaining a stoic facade.

"A rather large group of orc-like creatures are waiting at the entrance of the Tunnels! they are threatening to-"

The cultist is interrupted by a shockwave and the sound of groaning metal.

Shit, we are under attack!

I don't know why the Ilffs are targeted since there is no way that anyone would attack us after what we displayed to the inhabitants of the Shard...

Or it could be another gang! This is very likely; the timing is too good to be a coincidence. Maybe they have another mean of accessing the Shard that we don't know? Either way, this isn't good for us. The only exit of the Tunnels is that narrow corridor, sending men through this choke point will only result in substantial losses on our side.

Shit, it's my fault! I never once considered the possibility of being attacked in the Tunnel, so-

Another louder shockwave stops my train of thoughts. The horrified screams that soon follow make me grit my teeth as I pull out my phone.

I won't let you kill my people, you motherfuckers!

The Rewinder takes me back to twenty minutes before the attack.

It's TiMe tO cRuSh ThEm!

You couldn't have been more right! These fucks are expecting an easy win, but they are about to learn why you never anger a time traveler.

I activate my robes and shout as loudly as I can. "Legionaries! Prometheus demands your immediate attention!"

The camp comes to a standstill for a brief instant before all the available personnel stops what they were doing and pull out a weapon. These kinds of announcements are treated as the highest priority by any member of the Order, and they quickly form perfect ranks around me. In the meantime, I see that Roshia and her enlarged group of Inquisitors are already moving around to calm the crowd before they go into a frenzy.

This put my mind at ease. They are handling the situation pretty well despite their inexperience.

But maybe my standards are skewed. To me, everything is fine as long as people aren't starting to explode spontaneously.

Terrence rushes to my side and lowers his head, "Great Prometheus, what is the matter? How may I be of assistance?"

I turn towards the group of Legionaries, "We are going to be besieged in less than twenty minutes! The size and skill of the enemy's force are unknown, so prepare for the worst! We are deploying in five minutes so get ready!"

"Got it, we'll need to teleport our men out of here if we want a good chance of victory. They might have scouts patrolling the area." The Commander immediately replies.

"All right, tell me what I need to teleport," I say as I pull out my Portal Gun and select the third mode.

In less than five minutes, six machine gun emplacements are deployed. Of course, I had no idea where most of our equipment was, so I had to Rewind a few times until I got it right.

But my efforts paid off, and the camp, which has been a bit cannibalized to make emergency fortifications outside, is filled with Legionaries who are ready for battle. I order squads to hold hands and teleport them to their designated spots before teleporting to the battlefield with Terrence.

I can't thank the Commander enough, his quick thinking and experience are what allowed us to deploy so fast and efficiently.

It's somewhat worrying. Relying so much on a single man isn't a good thing, if Terrence is killed then the Order's war potential would be severely crippled. As horrible as this train of thought is, I need every member of the Order to be disposable. That means that we need to train more commanding officers in case the worst happens.

But let's focus back on the current situation. We are currently standing in a makeshift bunker hidden as a regular shack not too far from the battlefield. The machine guns are also hidden similarly, and the nests are placed in such a way that they cover every possible angle and point of arrival.

At least if the enemy doesn't teleport in.

I glance at my phone. There are only a few minutes left before the moment when the cultist warned me in the previous timeline, so we should-

"Contact!" A liaison officer shouts. "Team two has spotted a large force encroaching on our position! They are about a hundred of them, and from the look of things they aren't well-equipped!"

I nod and take a deep breath. Appearance can be deceiving, but sometimes it's the opposite.

"Got it, let's test their defenses. Fire a few volleys into the group, and order one of the regular squads to use an MH Shells barrage to weaken them!" I react and issue an order. This tactic might not be the best one, and things are likely to go wrong, but at least I'll be able to learn a bit more about-

"Enemy forces were successfully wiped out! The squads are now patrolling the perimeter for potential reinforcements!" the officer shouts and Terrence grins smugly.

What?!

I can't believe what I've just heard. This has to be a trap, so I better head there myself to make sure that no one is killed or wounded when the real attackers inevitably show up.

"I'm going to check out the battlefield; something feels wrong!" I say before sinking into the ground.

I emerge in the middle of a desolate scene: Limbs are strewn around a large pool of blood, and the rare identifiable remains are almost entirely turned into a fine paste.

This battle was a massacre, the enemies were only wearing brown rags, and their weapons could hardly be classified as such.

But these people could be cannon fodder who were sacrificed to trick us into lowering our guard!

I nod, this has to be it. There is no other explanation; nobody would be stupid enough to launch an attack with troops only equipped with rusty lances.

Right?