Gemini mulled over her words for a moment. “To protect. It has always been to protect other people. From the start to the end. Not this world, but the people I care about.”

“You have people you care about?” Queen Hyperion asked.

The doubt in her words abruptly stirred up anger from within his soul, and before Gemini could restrain it, his anger had taken form. The ruler of the Western Holdings coughed up blood a second later, as his anger lashed out uncontrollably, and she staggered back twice.

Another woman, boasting an equally blue shade of hair, leapt to Queen Hyperion’s defence, placing her body between Gemini and Hyperion. “What is the meaning of this?”

Gemini took a deep breath, unwilling to answer. His anger, however, continued to blaze madly, and with a jolt, the Demon Sovereign understood that this anger had risen out of the fact that Queen Hyperion had insinuated that there was nothing he cared about.

A small hand fell on his shoulder.

“It is true that we great gods, as a whole, are very relaxed. We do not demand rituals, nor do we care much about propriety. However, there are certain bottom lines that Queen Hyperion crossed in those words,” said Thasvia. “The Demon Sovereign, even if he wanted to, could not have stopped himself from lashing out. Be thankful that he is…a gentle person.”

Queen Hyperion groaned, and then stood back up. “Stand down, Gaia. If the Demon Sovereign really meant it, he could have killed me with that strike, given that I was taken by surprise.”

Gently shunting her guard to one side, she inclined her head. “My apologies for casting aspersions upon your words, Demon Sovereign Asteria. I thank you for showing mercy.”

Gemini nodded curtly, and the anger inside him subsided.

“Alright,” Pinnacle Kolya interjected, with false cheer in his words. “I don’t think we should do this exercise after all, since a certain someone is going to question their motivations. Rather, let us recap our findings so far.”

“First, it would seem that the Abyss Sovereign has constraints, much like the general ascension process in Orb. Considering that he is the Abyss personified, this should have been expected. More importantly, however, is the fact that one of those constraints is the vow of not killing.” He nodded at Thasvia, before turning his gaze upon Hereward, which then lingered for a few seconds. “Directly or indirectly.”

Everyone nodded.

“Second,” said the Pinnacle, “is the possibility that the grey border that has been closing in on us is one way the Abyss Sovereign could bypass this restriction. Is it killing? Or is it saving? No one knows, but that’s the reason why we’re in a rush. It is clear that once that border closes in on Celestia, Celestia’s creation would soon follow.”

Once again, Gemini had the feeling that those words were directed at the Sentinel of Space. However, the Pinnacle should have known that Hereward, despite his absence from the earlier parts of the meeting, would have known its contents anyway.

“Third is the fact that we don’t have time left. We must account for the possibility that we need to directly disrupt the creation of Celestia.” Pinnacle Kolya took a deep breath. “O Stabiliser. Do you have a way?”

Hereward, under the spotlight of everyone’s gazes, looked around. “I…cannot say for certain. Killing the Abyss Sovereign would almost certainly end his endeavour, but we can assume that to be impossible. And you must remember he already has a great number of lives in Celestia. To destroy it…might scatter those souls.”

“What do you—”

A giant network of cracks ran through the Sentinel of Space, and grey light spilled out from his form.

“Hereward?”

“Brother?”

Thasvia and Gemini extended their powers to surround the injured Hereward, but those wounds were something that transcended the physical plane.

“It’s nothing you guys can do,” said Hereward, his words laboured. “I’ll recover soon enough. Now…as I was saying. You might need to find a way to live with Celestia. The creation of a world requires a Cosmic Egg; the Cosmic Egg itself is at the highest floor of the Cradle of Creation. You might be able to modify Celestia’s creation if you gain access to it. If you value your life and your memories, you must fight to the top floor. Grasp the opportunity and change the trajectory of Orb once more.”

The Pinnacle stared at Hereward. “What’s happening to you? And what do you mean?”

“Me? A repudiation of my purpose,” Hereward replied. “My entire reason for existence is to protect Orb and its people. The moment Celestia became a singularity in fate, my injuries were set in stone. I just hadn’t internalised it yet.”

The Pinnacle lowered his head.

“It’s not your fault. Yes, better to face reality now, instead on the field of battle. We, the Bounded Presences of Orb, have a fixed purpose, a fixed meaning. This is our limitation, through and through.” Hereward smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t die. Not this easily, at any rate.”

The energy leaking out of Hereward froze, and then forced themselves back into the great god. Gemini held back the urge to wince, but the profound sense of weakness he had sensed from Hereward earlier had receded.

Whether this fix was temporary or permanent, however, no one knew.

“Now, as to your second question, young Kolya…” Hereward took a deep breath. “Have you wondered how Celestia was meant to stop all conflict? It’s rather simple, really. If I’m not wrong, the Abyss Sovereign is sealing away the memories of all who enter Celestia.”

“What?”

A similar wave of exclamations swept around the room, and Hereward nodded. “A simple, elegant way of resolving all past animosities — by making it such that there is no past. Everyone, if you so value your memories and your experiences, you must make it to the top floor. Overcome the Abyss Sovereign…or at the very least, succeed in modifying his creation. Fail, and your past will be gone forever.”

The great god groaned, and then took a few steps back, receding into the background.

After settling the other issues, which seemed a lot less important compared to Hereward’s final revelation, Gemini and the other great gods returned to the cave they were in earlier. Without much ado, the three of them sat down on the rocky ground and made themselves comfortable. Right now, everyone else was busy obeying Hereward’s words, sinking themselves into a session of introspection to figure out their true motivations here.

They would only move out once everyone present had discovered their motivations, or if there was only two days left on the clock. This was their last chance, and they could not afford to waste it any further.

“Now that I think about it,” said Gemini, “we should have done this from the very start.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Without taking this many losses, the chances of everyone acting selflessly would have been a lot lower,” said Thasvia.

“Either way, that kid probably will have his dream of a peaceful world come through,” said Gemini. “What a schemer.”

“Let’s put that aside for now. Gemini, you should visit your family while you can,” said Hereward. “With me around, I should be able to send you there and bring you back without alarming the Abyss Sovereign.”

“You can do that?”

“I am the Sentinel of Space, remember?” The great god smiled. “Go. I’ll tell you when it’s time to return.”

Gemini looked at Hereward.

“Thank you.”

“We owe you this much, at least.” Divinity gathered around Hereward’s hand. “Now go.”

He pushed out lightly, and the world around Gemini changed.