"Why so grim? Your girl did end up saving them." Hex didn’t reply, leaving Sterling and the others confused. They wouldn’t understand. Not many would. Only those who have tangled with the strings of fate know how devastating they can be. Hex cursed and pitied the crowd. They were chanting Althea’s name, forgetting their resident deity-like figure in the process. She was a savior. ’I wonder how they would react if they knew what saving someone entangled in those threads entails. They would still prostrate before her, only not in reverence but in fear.’ He had no proof. He didn’t need one. Althea left the ground with her clerics. Not through the path he stood on but the opposite one. His eyes followed them, worrying about the consequences. ’I wonder who paid the price.’ The sound lingered in the air for a moment after its sources had turned to dust. The clerks gathered the remains into jars with trembling hands. The tiny sparks appearing here and there would horrify them into their sleep. "Good job. Don’t drop it. They are invaluable." Ardan’s calm and steady voice worked like magic. All the clerks felt a bit less terrified. As an Enlightened Knight and one of the hidden cardinals of the High Temple, Ardan’s image was akin to a deity in the hearts of these Knight-level clerics. They bowed in unison and took the jars with them, leaving the dark and sinister dungeon. "Why did you bring them? We could have done the job. These weaklings nearly yellowed their white pants." Five men faced Ardan, with the one at the front posing the question with a sneer on his face. The Biledwellers didn’t like weakness. And they feared strength, which is why none dared to look Ardan in the eyes. "They need to grow," Ardan explained. His tone remained calm, whatever the situation was. A steadfast man like him only enhanced the dread the five felt in their hearts. "Plus," Ardan said looking at the five, "it wouldn’t matter who I tasked with this job. Everyone pees themselves in front of Fate’s might. The only difference is your pants are already stained to the point new ones aren’t discernible." With a start, the five turned toward Ardan, but his gaze was already looking beyond the walls of the dungeon. The demise of the prisoners on death row implied Althea had succeeded. ’I hope she progresses faster in her mastery over Fate. The sacrifices to shift the strings can’t be sustained for long.’ Ardan sighed. This was not how he envisioned their war to develop. The High Temple should act pure and righteous. His hopes, however, were destined to be squashed. Althea required a lot of training with Strings to adjust her control over them. The Strings were connected to each other, though. Manipulating one created a ripple. The only way to contain the consequences was by cutting off a few strings along the way. Somehow, Althea had received permission to use the vilest of humans imprisoned inside the darkest of dungeons as a sacrifice. Ardan knew she had joined hands with Wrixia itself to achieve this but didn’t know how or why. Why would that old one help Heaven? He didn’t trust any creature of the previous Ages, but it wasn’t his call to make. For all his titles and powers, he was nothing more than a guard. A role he intended to fulfill even at the cost of his life. He remained inside the dungeon even when others left. Vile or not, no soul deserved to be erased without a chance to repent. But that was another thing he was helpless to prevent. Again, he was only a guard. ’I would rather save every soul but sacrifices are needed. May their souls find purpose in the new era.’ He dropped to his knees and prayed. For their souls. And for him. "Have mercy on our souls." Althea walked through the crowd, ignoring all the voices, outside and inside her head. She waved at the people with a gentle smile on her lips, suppressing the headache. She knew who the plea belonged to. Someone she had never met, never knew existed, or what he had done to deserve being erased from existence. She heard the despair in his voice. And if that wasn’t enough, his face appeared in her vision. Different features, yes, but she recognized that gaze. He was angry. And worried. Not against her. But for her. Ever since she existed, people had either praised or cursed her. No one had cared for her. Except for a few. She closed her eyes, hiding the faces of the Commander and the Gargoyle in the darkness of her mind. But she couldn’t remove him. Hex remained the only one close enough to see her for what she once had been and for what she had become. She didn’t like her new self either. Or was this her old self? And that version of her they both liked had been nothing more than a dream. A beautiful dream but a dream nonetheless. She had chosen to wake up and face the reality...her reality. ’Sacrifices are necessary,’ she told herself. But Hex eyes, those dark eyes showing her what she was becoming, made her realize that she wasn’t only sacrificing others. She was a sacrifice, too. To laud the new era, she would have to destroy herself and become the one she was created to be. To be Heaven, to be Fate. "You saved us." The clerics clamored around her once she had entered their room inside the arena. They cheered, prayed, ate, and praised her. They revered her. Their smiles filled the room. ’Humans. How naive can they be? A small mistake and they would have ended up dead, crushed within the ground, without any name or fame they all desire.’ She shook her head as she took her place, higher than the others. A seat only she could sit in. A seat, far from everyone else around her. She listened to their laughter, to their words of fear and joy as they survived and served her. The words described her valor and grace. She listened without saying a word. For they all talked about her, in front of her, without talking to her.