“Man, that was great.” Kolya, who was rubbing his tummy, leaned back and sighed. Stretching, his entire body fell over, and in that one swift motion, the Pinnacle had gotten a nice lap pillow from the Oracle.

Gaius, who was watching the whole thing, felt like beating Kolya up. It definitely wasn’t out of jealousy, absolutely not. It was just the man had…looked at him with a triumphant expression right before he laid his head down on the Oracle’s lap. Such disrespect towards the Abyss Sovereign should not be tolerated, but the only reason why Gaius hadn’t acted yet was because it was beneath him.

It was not because he wasn’t sure if he could beat Kolya in his current state. Definitely not.

Turning back to the plate in front of him, Gaius suppressed the urge to lick it clean, and directed his longing gazes towards Isabelle’s own ‘Palace’- themed dessert. He wasn’t alone in looking at her plate that way either; Nakama was also looking at it the way a baby might look at a dazzling rainbow ball rolling around.

He couldn’t quite blame her either, as the treats that everyone had ordered was actually a small mountain of sugary goodness half the height of Nakama. The fact that she was the first to finish, and yet have enough space for seconds, however, was the most intriguing part to Gaius.

Just where did all that food go?

Inwardly reflecting that this was a question that he would probably never know the answer to, Gaius leaned back on his chair, looking around the place. The men in black — Kolya’s entourage — were looking as stoic and as unruffled as ever, but he could sense a small madness from them. This madness was focused on the hills of diabetes personified that were still standing.

The obsession was weak, but if allowed to fester…

Wait. Why on Orb does other people eating ice-cream induce such a reaction? Rolling his eyes while mocking his instincts, Gaius turned away from the Pinnacle’s stoic protectors to look at Nakama, who was sitting on his left. She had just finished persuading La-Ti that he didn’t really need to eat all that much, and was beginning to move in for the, uhh, steal.

Her apprentice — she had formally taken over from Gaius some time back — was now feeding Nakama. The sight of the two kids playing around lifted his spirits; both of them were getting along really well…although he had a feeling that it should be Nakama feeding La-Ti and not the other way around.

It was still a good development, however.

“What are you thinking about?” Isabelle, who was sitting on his right, asked. “Recently, whenever you looked at the two of them, there’s a faraway look in your eyes.”

“There is?” Gaius asked. “I’ve never really noticed. How does a faraway look in my eye look like?”

“It looks like…” Isabelle faltered. “You’re trying to distract me from this topic, aren’t you?”

Without even batting an eyelid, Gaius shook his head and lied. “I’m not.”

“No, you are,” said Galina, joining in the conversation abruptly. Her attention, however, was on the Pinnacle, who was using her lap as a pillow. She hadn’t even looked up to speak, and from how Kolya was grunting and groaning, Gaius was sure that Galina was busy playing with the Pinnacle’s face, moulding it like plasticine.

Gaius’ desire to beat the man up faded away at that sight, but he had more pressing issues. “What makes you say that?”

“Instinct,” she replied.

“That’s too flimsy a justification,” Gaius replied.

“But I’m correct. And that’s all that matters.” The Oracle laughed. “Darling, I’m not done yet. Ahem. The two of you can continue with your messy affairs now.”

“…why did you join in then?” Gaius asked.

“Because I felt like it?” Galina laughed, before returning to her own world. The grunts coming from Kolya intensified, which could only mean that the Pinnacle wasn’t going to be of any help now

Isabelle tapped the table twice. “That’s what Galina says.”

“Give it a rest, Isabelle,” another unexpected voice chimed in. “Now is not the time for such sensitive questions.”

“What do you mean?” Isabelle asked.

Xanadu smiled faintly. “It means that everything you want to know, he’ll tell you on that day, and more. Everything.”

“Don’t worry,” Gaius said. “It’s as she said. Just hold on for a bit longer, okay? Let me muster up my resolve.”

He stole a glance at Nakama, and exhaled gently when it was clear that she hadn’t noticed what was going on between him and Isabelle. Indeed, La-Ti was taking up most of her attention; the little kid had triggered her sibling instincts. It was somewhat marvellous to see how La-Ti, who was essentially occupying an artefact created by Nakama herself, had adapted to this foreign world so wonderfully.

“You know,” said Isabelle, who had followed his gaze, “I’ve been thinking about La-Ti, and why you brought him here. Is it — hmm?”

Gaius shook his head gently. “Not now. Not the right time.”

Her face paled slightly, but all he could do in response was to smile. Puffing himself up a moment later, he picked up his spoon — which had lain unused for five minutes — and scooped out some ice-cream from Xanadu’s plate.

“Hey.”

Gaius stuck a town out. “Well, you don’t seem to be eating much…”

Xanadu sighed. “Fine — wait, you too? Stop stealing my ice-cream! Especially you, Isabelle! You still have a whole chunk!”

In silent concord, the two of them continued to level Xanadu’s mountain of ice-cream until it looked like a plain, at which point the battlefield shifted over to Isabelle’s own mountain of ice-cream. Gaius, who was partaking in the whole thing, gleefully noted that he was the one who won out, having finished his own share at a speed that lost only to Nakama.

“Double servings, not bad.” Gaius licked his lips. “Not bad at all.”

“Alright, now that we’re all happy and fed…I suppose it’s time to discuss some more…serious stuff,” said Kolya, whose face had strips of red drawn all over it. “Gaius, the Great Divide is going to fall on next year, on January 31st. Are you ready?”

“You’re not even asking whether I’m actually going to come in the first place, are you?” Gaius asked.

“From what I know of you, it’s obvious that asking that would be a waste of my breath. This is a battle for the entire world. You will not stand idly by and watch that just happen,” said Kolya.

“Well, since you know that I’m definitely headed over…why not give me some good equipment while I’m at it?” Gaius asked. “You know what they called me over at the East, right?”

“Yeah, the Pint-Sized Railgun. There’s a small problem with that, though. We’ve already loaned out any equipment we could scourge together. There’s literally nothing else. Maybe you can try the Western Holdings; they should have quite a few artefacts there for anyone willing to try their luck.” Kolya rubbed his nose. “Well, don’t expect too much.”

“Why?”

“The Western Holdings are…unique. One reason why they aren’t going to send in their troops to the Great Divide is due to an internal threat,” said the Pinnacle. “Apparently, there’s something called the Oblivion Portal that spits out monsters on the regular.”

“Portal?” Gaius asked.

“Yeap. It’s gone dormant for four years, but Queen Hyperion doesn’t want a repeat of the Oblivion Intervention,” Kolya replied. “Around five millenniums ago—”

“Six, darling.”

“—Six millenniums ago, when Queen Hyperion took the throne, she launched a punitive expedition against the South. She was forced to retreat on the brink of victory, when a rift abruptly appeared out of thin air and spewed a monster mob some fifty thousand strong,” said Kolya. “Thousands of civilians died. Eventually, she crushed the mob, but by that time, uhh…”

“She had expended too much political capital to convince the West’s nobles to launch a second attack,” Galina completed. “And from that day forth, an entire army has always been on standby against that rift. A monument of her largest failure.”

“Which accounts for her insistence on not sending out her army…” Gaius shook his head. “Right? I still don’t get it. If we’re solidly crushed at World’s End, that’s the end of it.”

“Who knows what that relic is thinking? Right, is your family going to come along?”

The atmosphere inside the shop froze up at those words, with three chilling stares locking onto Gaius a moment later.

“So?” Kolya prompted. “What are you going to do?”

“Well…depending on the others, I don’t mind bringing them along,” said Gaius, his words slow and measured. “The end of the world is nigh. Since it’s inevitable…at least facing it with family sounds nice. That is, of course, if they want to come along.”

“Looks like you’ll bring a full team along, then.” Kolya snorted. “You’re lucky to have such a family.”

“Why you are envying them for?”

“Sofia, did you just hit my head for no reason?”

“You have me, and you’re still envying Gaius?” Oracle Galina raised her hand, and brought it down on Kolya’s head a few more times. “You’re going to break my heart.”

“Wait, that’s not what I meant…”

“Is it?”

“My head! My head! This is domestic abuse! Stop! I demand you cease and desist at once!”

The Pinnacle’s cries continued to ring out, adding a nice accompaniment to the barely-audible ambient music in the store. From how literally no one else batted an eye at this unbridled display of violence, Gaius could guess that this was a rather common sight. Of course, he could tell that the two were just having fun and playing around together…although whether he would call this growth or not was a really good question.

“So,” Gaius said, turning around to the others. “Do you guys really want to come along and see the end of the world?”

“Nonsense. Did you really need to ask?” Isabelle tutted.

“How about you, Nakama?” Gaius asked. “Coming along means that you can’t go to school anymore.”

“On the contrary,” said Isabelle, “the phrontistery’s going to be sending the students there. Most of them will be relegated to backline work; producing artefacts, medicine and the like.”

Gaius blinked twice, and then muttered some words under his breath. “What kind of school is this?”

“The kind that’s preparing the world for war,” Kolya replied, who had extricated himself from the Oracle’s abuse. “We have no idea how long the war might last. We could be crushed in a week. Or in a month. Or in a year. Or, if we’re lucky, we might hang on and fight this forever war until the Demon God calls for a truce.”

“No one’s putting money on us winning?”

Galina laughed hollowly. “Nope. We’ll be tossing lives, lives and more lives to even eke out a draw. I’m ninety-three percent confident on this part.”

“What about the other seven?” Gaius asked.

“That’s reserved for events that shouldn’t happen. Like, for instance, if the Demon God decides to send his forces piecemeal while getting them to yell ‘Muscles is justice!’ every second to tell us about their presence,” said the Oracle.

“That’s…awfully specific.”

“That’s the delusion Kolya’s been having for the past month,” Galina promptly replied.

“Hey!”

“The point being,” said Galina, “is that winning is so far off that even if the great gods intervene, we won’t be able to do anything. Unless the Demon God throws a fit and lets us unleash our secret weapons on him directly, we won't win. Period.”

“We’re not going to let the Demon God run away again, though,” said Kolya.

“Bold of you to assume that you can actually chase him away,” the Oracle replied.

“A man can hope, right?”

“If you have time for delusions, you have time to do paperwork and diplomacy.” Galina tapped the table twice. “You keep tossing it on the others. Can’t you do something Pinnacle-y?”

“I convened the Conference of the Four,” Kolya replied.

“That was three years ago,” the Oracle replied. “You haven’t done anything else since.”

“Fine.” The Pinnacle slammed his fist onto the table. “Let’s go convene the War Council, then. It’s about time anyway.”

Pausing to wave goodbye to Gaius and company, the Pinnacle swept out of Dai-Yukimono, accompanied by his guards and Oracle Galina. The others looked around blankly, and then stood up too.

A sudden thought flashed through his mind.

“Wait a moment,” Gaius muttered. “That punk forgot to pay!”