“I’m sorry.” The words scattered out into the endless space, a plane which knew no boundaries in its unending existence. Alone amidst the vast expanse of gray, a small figure kneeled below the glowing form of his god. “I’m sorry.”

Bowing his head, Lucius hunched over until his glasses tapped the floor with a dull click of plastic on metal, his knees planted firmly on the floor in prostration. Shivering under the immense pressure of the being before him, the student fought to control his fear. This was not the time to lose composure.

“Apologies are cheap,” Progress replied, stepping forward to slide the tip of his foot under the high schooler’s head. “I’ve given enough of them to know.”

“I-” Falling silent as Progress moved, Lucius trembled as his god’s shimmering foot lifted his head up off the floor. “This was not-”

“How you had wished it to end?” Running a hand through his golden hair, Progress raised the other to his face, covering his forehead and eyes. Glaring past his fingers, the deity stomped his foot back down. “Of course it wasn’t! Nobody plans to fail.”

“…I remain your humble servant.” What else could Lucius say? If apologies were cheap, he could do nothing more than beg. “What do you wish for me to do from-”

“Don’t lie to me.” The god’s face twisted with Lucius’ words, and he was suddenly crouching down before his follower, a single hand curling through the young man’s hair to wrench him bodily to the side. “You may be my follower, but humble? You are anything but humble…. How could you possibly have thought this was the right thing to do?”

“My plans were sound, but the others…” Lucius held his tongue. There was no excuse he could give from here. His failure had been spectacular beyond compare, his every plot turned and twisted against him by the other gifted in the Project. “I will not fail you again, my Lord.”

“Failure?” Progress’ eyes gleamed a brilliant blue. “This is not about your failure. Do you really think you could stop a god from coming into this world? I expected you to fail, no, I needed you to fail here, that’s why I set you such an impossible goal. Those fools at the Project might be powerless to control their new god, but his presence here was always a given.”

“You wanted me to fail?” Lucius couldn’t hide his shock, and his god returned his anguish with disgust. “Why?”

“That isn’t for you to know,” Progress replied. “Yes, I wanted you to fail. No, I did not expect you to sink to such a level in your efforts. Humanity… what a deceptive name for something so despicable.”

“You really do hate us, don’t you?” Lucius asked. Tilting his head towards the god with a blank stare, he saw a fraction of the deity’s loathing for the human race. “My god…”

“I am your god,” Progress said. “And my machinations are all that is keeping your people from being consumed by the savagery of divine war. We need each other to survive – our feelings are nothing compared to this one single truth. You worship me because no one else would accept you, and I rule you because there is no one else to rule. So don’t ever think to turn those eyes of yours against me.”

“What a joke.” Lowering his gaze, Lucius felt his shoulders drop under the weight he bore. “To discover god, and find that he abhors us. To summon another, who is the very essence of sin itself. The world is cruel indeed.”

“Humanity is cruel,” Progress replied, clapping a hand down over the high schooler’s shoulder to push him further down. “The world is uncaring. But if this one is not to your taste then rejoice, boy. For your supreme failures here, I am banishing you to another. Maybe this time you will know your place.”

…

“Lucius.” A hand came to rest on the saint’s shoulder, snapping him back into the present for the moment. “Claude is on his way.”

“Thank you,” Lucius replied, turning back towards the entrance to the compound. The Garden was a place of peace, and many of the clergymen came here to ponder and pray. “I hope he sees the importance of meeting in this place.”

Place… Lucius sighed as he recalled his last meeting with the deity he had pledged to serve. Progress may have single-handedly prevented the utter destruction of humanity many times over, but the god’s relationship with his subjects was tenuous at best. Still, he was a step above the remainder of the pantheon. Even the worthlessness he felt in Progress’ presence was nothing compared to the despair that the Project’s summoned other had made them all feel that day.

“I’m sure he will,” Cliff said with a nod. “The Garden has long served as neutral ground between the Blessed and the Willful. A Paladin such as Claude would be remiss to disturb such honored tradition.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t,” Lucius replied. Looking over to where Sierra was staring into the apple orchards, he tilted his head. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for Henry. If we couldn’t find him, it was either because he isn’t aware of himself yet, or he didn’t want to be found.”

“Still,” Cliff said, stepping between his sister and his superior. “A woman’s thoughts aren’t something you should be reading so simply.”

“It’s true, though,” Lucius replied. After Christoph had dropped his bomb on them, they had spent nearly three weeks scouring the Plains for the half-elf pirate. “The adventurer’s guild was our only lead in the end.”

“It’s too bad we couldn’t track the pirate through his guild card.” Directing his gaze towards the ground, Cliff let out a sigh. “Well, if Henry’s card was brought up when the pirate went into the guild, it’s proof he’s out there somewhere.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Lucius said, catching Claude’s eye as the Paladin stepped into the garden proper. “Henry is out there, and the Willful need to know. Sir Claude! I am grateful that you could join us this fine morning.”

“It is not often I am graced with such company,” Claude replied, coming to a stop before the trio. His usual steel plate was conspicuously absent, and the plain clothes of a priest had replaced them. “Besides, the Garden is a haven of mine.”

“I see you’ve chosen to forego your armor.” Tilting his head, Lucius raised an eyebrow upon seeing the Paladin’s mana signature. “You don’t feel… vulnerable, without your normal precautions?”

“Of course I do,” Claude said. More than his armor, he knew Lucius was commenting on his clones or lack thereof. At this moment, he had but a single body to house his mind and soul. “Knowing my mortality again will do me good. Now, I trust you had a reason for this meeting?”

“You’re correct,” Lucius replied. “Firstly, the church cannot afford to be embroiled in internal conflicts. Change is coming, and it will not be kind to those who loiter in the past.”

“I will not apologize for my actions,” Claude said. Turning towards Cliff, he narrowed his eyes. “Dane was my brother and I bear the guilt of his demise, but if Sir Cliff decides to target the demon again I will not hesitate to repeat my actions. He has no right, no right at all. Even Sierra, I could forgive, but for him to brush her aside as well… This revenge is not his to take.”

“I will continue to follow my orders,” Cliff replied, clenching his fists as he remembered the beating he had endured at the Paladin’s many hands. “If I find the demon on the other side of my sword in the future, so be it. I will not go so quietly when you come for me.”

“This is not the place,” Lucius said. “Not that there is a place for this. We will continue to follow our orders, and the Pope has decreed both peace between the factions, and to keep our distance from Christoph for now.”

“Keep our distance…” Shaking his head, Claude crossed his arms with a scowl. “I hear you had something to do with that decision in particular. Not that I had any intention of sending more of my men to their destruction at the demon’s hands. It is better to starve such beasts than to feed them willingly. Still, how do you plan to deal with him if he returns having cleared the Chain of its wyrms?”

“We will focus on bringing god to this world,” Lucius replied. Raising a hand to his chest, the young man made a fist. “Progress will rule over humanity in both the realms, and if Christoph is a threat then he will be removed directly.”

“The church has its doubts about your lord Progress.” Leaning forward, the dragonslayer locked eyes with the zealous high schooler. “On both sides.”

“Such concerns are baseless,” Lucius said with a wave. The time for doubting Progress had long passed. He may not regard humanity with love, but Lucius’ god was necessary for the protection and advancement of the human race. “They cannot possibly doubt his existence, so what then? His intentions? Lord Progress is our god. If he intends to visit destruction upon the church and his people there is nothing we could do to prevent it. Even our efforts to summon him here may be no more than a paltry convenience to him in the end.”

“What of Pope Kale?” Straightening to his full height, Claude towered over the trio with scorn. “That man is relentless. Do you really think he will sit back and allow you to supplant his authority over the Kingdom of the Creator?”

“I know he will,” Lucius replied. “Pope Kale is not the man you think him to be. The church will help me bring Progress to humanity, no matter which mortals may see fit to interfere.”

“Hmph.” Taking a step back, Claude followed Sierra’s gaze toward the priests kneeling amongst the orchards. “The Willful do not share the fervor of the Blessed, Saint. Nor do we share your belief in Progress. We will protect our kingdom as we have always done, no matter who will stand in our way. Now if that is all, I will be taking my leave.”

“Not yet,” Lucius said with a shake of his head. The conversation had not gone as he had planned, but Claude still had to know. At the very least, Dane’s death seemed to have had a profound effect upon the Paladin. Perhaps news of Henry’s life would do the same. “We aren’t done just yet, Sir Claude. As a Paladin of the Creator’s Willful, and as the son of Father Molt and brother to Sir Henry, there is something you must know.”

…

“Well, this is worse than I had imagined.” Knocking the back of his head against the oversized bricks, Christoph slumped down onto the small stone table which was serving as his bed. “At least they put us in one cell this time.”

“It’s still your fault,” Emilia said, shoving him aside with her legs from where she was sitting on the other side of the makeshift bed. “The bed is too small for both of us, go sit on the floor.”

“The floor is wet, why don’t you go sit on it.” Grabbing the moody cat-girl by a leg, Christoph dragged her down onto the bed before flopping down over her furred form. Ignoring her protests, he wriggled up her body until they shared an uncomfortable embrace. “Do you think we’ve made it to the capital by now?”

“We might have,” Emilia replied, whacking her partner’s hands away as she smoothed down the fur he’d ruffled in this movements. The pair had been dragged through half the mountain range by their ‘captors’, and each cell seemed smaller than the last had been. “Charter’s Chain… I hope Leila isn’t here this time.”

“Leila?” Propping himself up on one elbow, Christoph made a face at the beast-woman next to him. “Why would she be here?”

“She’s the clan-head,” Emilia said. “It’s her duty to make sure the clans and the dwarves get along.”

“I thought she was just the head of the village,” Christoph replied with a shake of his head. Liam’s information might be useful, but he was constantly surprised at the things he still didn’t know about this world. “So she’s like the queen of the beast clans, then?”

“She’s Bastias’ favorite.” Cuddling up to him, Emilia shivered in the cold of the damp dwarven cell. “She looks after the forest clans for them.”

“Just the forests?” Christoph asked. “Not the swamps?”

“Just the forests.” Nodding into his chest, the cat-girl turned to look up at him. “The reptile clans have their own leader. Bastias likes Leila the best, though.”

“Wait,” Christoph said, raising a hand to pause the conversation. “They worship Bastias as well?”

“They have a different Bastias,” Emilia replied. Leaning sideways, her ear began to flicker as the maneuver stretched out her neck. “Leila still wants to know about your other world, you know?”

“Too bad for her,” Christoph said. A different Bastias? No, Bastias was a unique presence in the first place. Could you really think of the beast gods as separate existences? “If Leila wants to know about home, she can go there and find out for herself.”

“I want to know as well.” Blinking once, Emilia’s eyes locked onto his as the silence stretched on. “Not just about your world, about you.”

“I know you do,” Christoph said with a sigh. “I didn’t want to talk about it if I could, but I suppose it was just a matter of time… Fine. I’ll tell you about my life back home.”