Rare apologizes profusely to me for their actions, as they have done countless times I’m sure to others. But to me, it is the first time we have even spoken.

We sit together in an isolated part of the Anti-Mage fortress, while the rest of the Systemless Squad army is flowing in steadily and converting the place into a home base to launch from. The defenses are being dismantled and turned into portable offensive gear, while extra bed space procurement has become a tricky issue that the logistics team has to make great pains to deal with.

By an isolated part, what I mean is we are sitting on the top of a large wizard statue. Zazzerpan the Learned, a mighty and obscure part of Mystix lore that neither of us actually know anything about beyond the name inscribed at his base. With everything so busy on the ground, this perch up here is the only quiet we can obtain.

“Please do not accept any of these words,” Rare says, nursing the bruise on their face from when I punched them and knocked them out. “I deserve your eternal scorn, and have grown to understand how you will feel.”

I put a hand on Rare’s shoulder. “I cannot allow that which you ask of me,” I say. “I forgive you because you are my sibling, and you are more important to me than almost anything else in my life. I would forsake the world for you.”

“But I failed to do the same thing when the time came. I forsook the world, only for myself.”

Rare’s words do not seem to be healing at the moment. They are being, as my citizens might say, totally bum-out buzzkill shit.

“You were a moron,” I say, “and you manipulated me to your own ends. But I will not tolerate any further self-deprecation. You have repented in your own way.”

“I see.”

“You thought what you believed was the truth. You fought for that belief, and you were wrong. The only thing you can do now is admit it and become a better person.”

Rare is speechless.

“Let us simply relax and bask in our North Spiran spirit together.”

“...Yes.”

We do.

We chat for at least an hour just about life back home, about all our fathers and siblings and the fun things we used to do before things got so serious. It’s all so different now. We’re grown up and all the rest of our family is gone.

“I miss Vince,” Rare says. “Killed off by something completely beyond his control. Killed off because they wanted to get to you, those Slayers. Your rivals killed him, and I could do nothing to stop them. I don’t think he liked me that much, not like you. But I loved him. I wish I had just said it. And I wish he were still here...”

“As do I. But we can never bring him back. Perhaps if he has been reincarnated on some other world, living a new life in a new identity, with none of his original memories, we can find his soul and bond with him once more. But it won’t be Vince anymore. It will be a new person with brand new experiences.”

“So Vince is truly gone.”

“As will everyone, one day. We must accept it with open arms and the hope of a storied legacy, or with open arms and the tranquility of fading into the background of history.”

Rare looks at me with a curious face. “Eryk... Since when did you become the philosopher king? You’ve really grown up.”

“Not as much as you,” I say.

They smile. “Only in age.”

“I was wondering,” I begin to ask, “if you can give me any intelligence on our grand plan here against the U.S. What have the Anti-Mages managed to accomplish in these last few months? What should we do next?”

“We’ve mostly worked underground,” they say. “Their firepower is too great, and they have too many powerful A-Rank commandos who wipe us out every time we attempt to advance on open ground. So we’re doing the ultimate subterfuge.”

“Such as?”

“We stole the Sorting Scepters from them. From almost everywhere in Mystix. By my count, we have seized over two thirds of the Sorting Scepters already on Mystix, and a sizable cache of the U.S.’s original creations. Their advancement is being ground to a halt.”

“Oh, just from the Sorting Scepters?”

“Yes. Their warriors cannot reclass, and with the guerilla war only seeing sporadic fighting, many of their [Warriors] are running out of easy options for Destiny Point gains. Some of them have been dying from simple Life Point drain because they ranked up too early.”

“Stupendous. Cruel, but very smart.”

“And they cannot easily recruit new systemless denizens of any continent they conquer. They have plenty of reverse engineered Sorting Scepters, but as you know, those are filled with defects and break too easily. The real thing is so much better. As much as I hate to say it, we could probably do great things by using them ourselves.”

I nod. “The Sorting Scepters have the ability to give even our weakest volunteers a fighting chance. But... Do we want to give them the choice when we know it will doom them to a life of Destiny Point grinding just to stay alive?”

“This is war, Eryk.”

“But what about after?”

“...”

“Will the Anti-Mages become pro-mages?” I ask.

“I’ll ask each of them. But for us, we are mostly so powerful already that starting the system at Rank F would only hamper us, unfortunately.”

“I see. It sounds like a double-standard, then,” I say.

“Why did you bring all these humans to Mystix if not to actually be useful in battle?”

“They can support the rest of us. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re sure of a lot of things,” Rare says.

Our roles about the Sorting Scepters seem to have perilously reversed. This feels like the paradigm shift between Rare and Metsopholees, only I’m included this time. A strange feeling of having flip-flopped on a major issue over time.

“Let’s agree to disagree,” I say, “and instead bring up another matter. These Sorting Scepters... They can bring my old sealed class back, can’t they?”

They nod hesitantly. “Yes. It’s a bit more involved of a process, but I certainly know how to undo what has been done. I can make you a [Demigod] once again.”

“A [Demigod], Rank A, just the same time I am an [Adventurer], Rank A. That’s... an interesting proposition.”

Suddenly, a figure levitates to the top of the statue and meets our gaze. It’s Julie.

“Say what about [Demigods]?” she asks.

Rare and I eye each other.

There’s no going back now. We have to try it when the time is available.

Before the final battle, Julie and I are going to unlock our hidden class, that most deadly of classes.