A/N: It's been forever since I last revisited this story (a few years by now). Because I'm in a slump for When in Doubt Save, I'll be revamping this story - previously known as Regeneration of the World. Here's to a revitalization and (hopefully) an improvement in writing. Side note – I haven't touched Tales of Symphonia in a LONG time, so whether I recall certain parts of the plot…

Side note/warning: You'll probably won't like this chapter as it's from Remiel's POV. Not even I like him, but gotta make him despicable for the sake of the story. /Shudders/

Side: Remiel


Prologue: A Chance Encounter

Soon it would be time.

Many years had passed since the death of the previous chosen – a disgrace among them all, only lasting a meager couple weeks into his journey – and now the new potential vessel would set off on her journey in perhaps a decade, give or take.

I've just arrive at the outskirts of the Iselian forest, tasked by Lord Yggdrasil to monitor the progress of this generation's chosen. It was rather unlike me to waste my time coming to this human infested territory, but somehow I knew that this generation would be unlike the last.

The chosen certainly wasn't ready, or would be ready any time soon, however, I had to ensure that nothing would end the child before I even have the chance to send it on its way to the Tower. After all, it has been decades since I've last been in charge of a chosen – failure in itself was impermissible. The fact that Lord Yggdrasil is giving me one more chance is something I absolutely cannot ruin this time. It's bothersome enough that Gabriel had possession of the other chosen – he had the highest rate of succession (of getting the chosens to the Tower) compared to the rest of the angels that have taken the task of the messenger. If he succeeds… then my chances of becoming a seraphim – already slim but certainly better than the rest of those fools – would become even slimmer.

I landed without a sound in the dense brush, quietly tucking my wings into bindings. This wouldn't have been an issue if I were a seraphim. I wouldn't have to be here, dealing with humans, playing dress-up in traveler's clothing which I had little taste for.

Swatting away low hanging braches from my face, I began my trek to Iselia, still aware of the pests that roamed in the underbrush.

It was only a brief flicker in the corner of my vision – the glimmer of metal in light – that stalled me on my task.

Perhaps a small promotion would be in order if I found a failure on Forcystus' domain. Just another stepping stone to my place as a seraphim.

As I approached the location of interest, my, imagine my surprise: partially eaten carcasses of Kvar's troops in Forcystus' domain. Don't even bother wondering how I knew they were under Kvar's jurisdiction, I have my methods. This, perhaps not a failure on Forcystus' part, is a failure worth investigating (I can almost hear a minor promotion calling me).

Aside from the soft rustling of the leaves in the wind, it became rather quiet once the monsters that were eating the bodies fled. Based on the remains, it was quite difficult to determine what caused them all to die, though a simple report of the incident may well be enough.

Taking note, I was about to leave when I felt a sticky hand grab at me.

"Wh-" Glancing down in disgust, it turned out to be some human woman – barely alive it seems.

"Please… sir…" She struggled to say. How she was still alive, it astounds me, though I suppose humans can have the tenacity of even roaches.

"I… my son… Lloyd…"

Her grip weakened, soon followed by a soft thud.

I clicked my tongue, eyeing the filth she smeared on me. Did she expect me to do her any favors?

I did, however, take note of the form of a young child, partially hidden under the woman's body. The slight movement was the only indication that the child – a boy – remained living despite the outcome of the rest here.

Rolling the woman off with the tip of my boot, I crouched down to look at the inferior being. Small – perhaps a few years of age at best – and covered in negligible injuries. Perhaps Forcystus would like an addition to his labor force – something that isn't old or decaying.

Grabbing the boy by the shirt, it was then that I finally noticed a small glimmer on the dirt – is that an exsphere?

Something seemed off about it though I couldn't quite place it.

So the woman must've been a runaway human experiment and this was her offspring. Quite curious why Kvar's men would be out this far. An inter-ranch affair?

Shifting my gaze towards the boy, an idea slipped into my mind. Perhaps I didn't need to report Kvar's failure – even if his embarrassment and rage would be something to see – in favor of making use of the child.

Ah, how convenient.

This boy, about the same age as the soon be chosen, would be my eyes when I'm not around. A simple tool – no, a puppet.

Yes, it would take effort to get this child to a usable condition, but for the sake of getting promoted, perhaps putting in a little extra wouldn't hurt.

Somehow, I had that feeling that having an agent – unknown to the rest of Cruxis – may be what will finally get me promoted as a Seraphim. Though there could be issues with this being discovered, taking this risk might be what it takes to get promoted.

Another stepping stone – that's all it is.

Scoffing a bit, I scooped up the exsphere and the boy.

I'll have to see where this goes – at least it'll keep me busy until the chosen is old enough to receive the oracle and to begin her trials.

With that, I headed off with a smirk.

Prologue: END