Beyond The Impossible

City-ship Naxos, oceans of Olympus

Kestral transmutes the water of the room into air, allowing his guest to follow him.

<I didn’t expect to see you again.> the merman admits.

<Well it’s my fault, really. I asked Noriko to be given more responsibilities, and since I don’t have any official position she can always deny I did anything.> Quantum replies.

<I should’ve guessed that gaining her trust would take more than assisting her in a fight against a Primordial.>

<Don’t take it personally, dude. The Winter King helped us against Tiamat and then went on to invade our planet… Noriko can be a little too paranoid at times, but still, you can’t be tio careful about this kind of stuff.>

<Just because her paranoia is understandable doesn’t mean I have accepted it, Quantum. But I am grateful that she agreed to take care of our refugees.>

<She also wanted to give you this.> the human says, handing over a very unassuming bracelet that could easily be mistaken for a watch.

<Knowing Null, I suppose this isn’t just a symbolic gesture?> Kestral asks.

<It’s an alarm. It’s got a technical name, but see that button on the side? Press and twist it, and it’ll send us a signal that tells us you’re in danger. Noriko assures me it’s totally untraceable, something about entangled particles. Well, she will be able to find you once you send the signal, but nobody else will.>

<A distress signal in case I need the Vanguard’s help.> Kestral realizes.

<Exactly. Noriko wants you to know that while the Empire can’t officially recognize Atlantis Uprising without going to war with Poseidon… she’s still backing you as much as she can.>

<Much appreciated. Perhaps in time she’ll be able to pledge more.>

<Well, there is something you could help me with. Your Philosopher’s Stone lets you manipulate molecules the same way I transform my own atoms… maybe you could teach me to expand the use of my own powers.>

<It’s not called… uhm. Now that I think about it, it would be easier to give a name to my Drylon device. But unless you’re willing to follow me back to the Aegian Galaxy, your training will have to wait.>

<You’re going back so soon?>

<I am a freedom fighter, Quantum. Atlantis Uprising’s goal is the liberation of my galaxy from divine rule; it’s not that different from what the Vanguard used to stand for. You can join if…>

<What do you mean by “used to”!? We haven’t changed!>

<Haven’t you? Would you have believed you’d find yourself in your current situation when you first met Null?>

<Dude, I wouldn’t have believed I’d talk to alien mermaids on Olympus if you told me last week.>

<That’s not what I meant. If your own galaxy was still subject to absolute divine rule, the Vanguard would be on the front line to attack the god on the throne instead of worrying about potential diplomatic incidents.>

<It’s more complicated than that, Kestral.>

<I’ll be sure to remind that to the families of the next civilian that gets beheaded for not believing in the right god hard enough. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really have to get back to my people.>

<Yeah, sure. Keep in touch.> Quantum replies, turning into radio waves to return to the surface.

Despite having no ears in this form, Kestral’s words still echo in his mind.

“Have we changed?” he can’t help but wonder.

 

Hell, 163,000 light-years from Earth

Torn remembers visiting the Infernal Library when he was a child; his mother tried to instill into him the same passion for history that drove her, but the young Demon was too enamored with promises of glorious battles to really care for it.

As he stares at the wall full of scrolls that are yet to be scanned and digitized by the Nullbots, he feels the approach of an old soul.

<I was wondering how long it would take you to show up.> Maim points out.

Torn hasn’t seen the old Demon woman in years, but she hasn’t changed much.

<Null told me about the information you provided her.>

<See? This is why the Nameless Order never talked to humans. They can’t keep their mouths shut.>

<And yet you discussed the Order’s secrets with her.>

<She’s the Regent of Hell, that used to stand for something for our people. The Order used to stand for something.>

<What changed?>

<We’re not gods, Torn. I’m almost four hundred years old; I don’t have much left to live, and as far as I know I’m the last surviving member of the Nameless Order. Before I return to the Blood, I have to make sure nobody ever finds Heaven.>

<My father went looking for Heaven. The search cost him his life.>

<You really are your father’s son. Breaking a dam because you’re unsatisfied of living in a small puddle.>

<There are no dams in Hell.>

<But there are dams, barriers that keep the Blood in check. And you almost broke one when you tried to absorb the power of a Primordial.>

<You’re aware of my fight against Gaea?>

<I told you I’m old, Torn. Some Demons spend their centuries refining the use of the Blood as a weapon. Others, like me, study how its power ebbs and flows across time and space. And that kind of Demon couldn’t possibly ignore a battle like that, no matter in which galaxy it takes place.>

<And what kind of Demon was my father?>

<The most dangerous kind: a skilled warrior who could read the Blood better than he could wield a blade. In retrospect, it’s no wonder he’s the one who can actually find Heaven.>

<Was the one. My father’s dead.>

Maim looks at Torn in the eye, a wry smile forming on her lips. Torn has met gods older than stars, but few times he’s felt just how much more of the universe another being has seen.

<You really do have a lot to learn, Torn.>

The Demon kneels before the old woman; old age has made her much shorter than him, so even in this position he’s still taller.

<Teach me.>

<On one condition. Make sure my death won’t come from old age, but from a battlefield.>

<I didn’t think you were that kind of Demon.> Torn admits.

<I said I didn’t spend centuries wielding a weapon; it doesn’t mean I want to die without holding one in my hands.> the old woman clarifies.

 

Boreas, 3.000 light-years from Earth

Despite her duties as Mortal Co-Empress, Noriko Null makes it an effort to keep at least some resemblance to a normal life. While most of the time she ends up consuming her meals at her desk or in her laboratory, whenever possible she tries to have dinner with her Lar boyfriend Kylon.

Of course the Winter Palace is not any human’s idea of “a normal life”, but as the current Ice Queen she must also give some idea that she actually cares about the position.

Her personal apartments are relatively spartan if compared to the absurd opulence of divine palaces, but the dining room alone is larger than any apartment she’s lived in.

<This business with Atlantis Uprising worries me.> Kylon admits. He’s already finished eating; since humans require more sustenance than Lar, Noriko is still eating.

<Why? The city-ships are self-sustained and their weapon systems are off-line. Besides, there’s nobody else in the oceans of Olympus, they can’t hurt anyone.>

<It’s a time bomb. Poseidon will undoubtedly retaliate.>

<I just showed him I can keep up with a Primordial, plus I have Hades to back me up. He’ll think twice before doing something stupid.>

<That doesn’t sound like a Greek god. At all.> Kylon comments.

<Can we avoid talking about work? Please? Let’s talk about anything else, like how the Winter Kingdom has been doing.>

<I’m sure you have people that keep you informed on that sort of stuff, but the Lar still support you; they’re not too keen on having an alien on the throne, but they appreciate how you repealed the most restrictive rules. Although people are worried about you wanting to turn the Kingdom into a republic…>

<You don’t need to tell me again they’ll never abolish the monarchy.> Noriko interrupts him, having listened to the same argument countless times.

<…and the heir problem.>

<The what problem?>

<By the Lar standards humans don’t live very long, so your reign will be a relatively short one.>

<Kind of rude to say, but okay. So what?>

<When the queen or king dies, the throne passes to either the oldest child or the spouse. You don’t have either, so… unless you get one, it’s only a matter of time before a succession crisis.>

<Uhm, I don’t like where this is going.> Noriko admits, loudly swallowing her last morsel.

<And it’s not just the Winter Kingdom that’s talking about this. When you created the office of Mortal Co-Empress, you didn’t specify the order of succession… until you do, there’s the possibility the office remains vacant and the Divine Co-Empress could return the Galaxy to full divine rule.>

<Does it help that I’m not planning to die anytime soon, or that I’ve already died once?>

<Noriko, this is serious. Turning the Empress title into an elective one could take years; having uncertainty in the line of succession is one of the things that doomed the Mortal Republic. You of all people should’ve seen this coming!>

<I didn’t even want the position for myself, why would I want to nominate a successor? I’d just be painting a target on their back!>

<Now you’re being childish. You know perfectly well what the ideal solution would be, but you’re being too emotionally opposed to it.>

<And would this “ideal solution” be?>

<You should take a husband. Even if you don’t want to have a child, that would at least give the people the illusion that you’re planning to have one; that’ll buy you some time.>

<A-are… you… asking to… marry me?>

<That would mean the crown would eventually pass on to me, since I’m likely to outlive you…>

<Would you stop bringing up my lifespan!?>

<…but that wouldn’t work. We can’t have children because we’re not from the same species, so nobody would fall for it. You should just marry another human.>

<Kylon… you can’t be serious! How can you even think something like that!?>

<Of course the ideal solution would be to just have a child, but…>

<That does it!> Noriko finally snaps, standing up so fast she knocks over her chair; she then storms out of the dining room with intense anger in every step.

<…you’re emotionally opposed to it.> Kylon concludes.

 

Asgard Station, Null Zone

The Portal Generator heralds the arrival of Noriko in her own dimension, her blood still pumping with anger. Her thoughts race as she walks towards her laboratory.

“How could he suggest something like that!? Having a child to use as a political pawn! How would that be any different than my mother having me to gain access to the Nexus!?” she thinks.

Operating the commands of the Portal Generator, she’s able to teleport something into the lab. She picks up the object, illuminated by the golden light of the Key of Heaven.

<You son of a b##ch. You actually did it.> she begrudgingly congratulates her secret helper.

She’s the only one who can see the eyes made of fire reflecting on the nearest wall, or to hear the frightening voice of the former Emperor Of The Universe.

<Of course. As I told you, time holds no secrets for me.> Kronos tells her.

<The Key teleported itself seven million light-years from Earth. How did you know its exact coordinates one million years after your own death!?>

<I have perfect knowledge over my own timeline. You were wearing your crown when programming the Key… a crown forged from the halo of my great-granddaughter Tyche. You might as well have whispered the programming into my ear.>

<Is that how it works? You know everything even remotely involving your relatives?>

<No. I can see through the crown because it’s a part of Tyche. Who did you think she inherited her clairvoyance from? Her father is a thief and her mother a w#ore.>

<If that’s true, why did you let me kill Tyche? Or why did you let Zeus dethrone you?>

<Tyche was not destined for greatness; you are. I’ve known everything about you before you were born, Null. I knew Zeus would betray me, I knew I would be exiled and I knew I would rule once more. I am the God of Time. I know everything.>

<You wouldn’t be the first god that oversells his own abilities, but… does that mean you know my future as well?>

<I know what happens to your empire, to your friends and your family. I know how you die for the last time. And I can share such knowledge… for a price.>

<No deal, Kronos. By all accounts, you’re a monster. There’s no price I’m willing to pay.>

<You will see.>

<That’s a bluff, right? Right?>

Even if she can only see the reflection of his eyes, Noriko is absolutely certain Kronos is smiling.