Author's note: 01- 16-03 Well, it's been a longtime coming (Damn you Vice City!), but here it is, my third chapter. It's huge! I don't know how I did it! I never meant for this to become the frickin monster it's become! These first three chapters were supposed to be a kind of prologue to my real story, but damn! How am I ever going to get this done? Simple: I hate unfinished stories, and I refuse to be a hypocrite! You might venture to guess that I'm modeling Guardia on something else, and you'd be right. But, the modeling makes sense. At least I think so. I don't consider this AU, but if you want to, be my guest. Reviews are highly appreciated! One more thing: Buckeyes Rule! We're #1! We're #1! Yeah baby! Now, on with the show…

Paradigm Shift

End of Time

Parallel time: October 29th 1000 A.D. 5:46 PM

"I told you once young lady, my visions are blocked. I don't know what's going on any more than you do."

Slightly more than twenty-five minutes before, Gaspar, using magic Lucca had hitherto never seen, projected images of the changing past onto the courtyard wall. With frightening clarity, Lucca and her companions had seen Lavosian energies consume the Black Omen. Slightly less than five minutes before that, Gaspar had informed them that the Mammon Machine, that cancerous heart of the Ocean Palace, had finally been destroyed in battle, and then the queen had been mortally wounded shortly thereafter.

The queen, before her passing, did find time to summon Lavos from the core of the Earth, and the Black Omen was subsequently consumed by dark magics. Lucca wondered how Crono and company had survived it all, but Gaspar said they had. Now they had Lavos to face, and after the ordeals they had certainly faced in the Omen, she questioned if they had enough strength to finish the job.

In Lucca's adventures there had been many battles; battles that seemed to stretch time, ones that seemed to take grueling hours to complete, but actually fought in a matter of minutes. Lucca knew this, but had nonetheless been flabbergasted as she had timed the events as Gaspar spoke. Those battles with the Gaia Gaia defender on Mt. Woe, Azala and his Black Tyrano, Mother Brain, Yarka XIII, even that titanic battle with the Magus, none of them had taken more than ten minutes to complete.

This knowledge turned her stomach. The full horrific swiftness of battle and that razor thin edge between the last second of life, and the first second of death, which had always been obvious to her, finally registered in that part of her mind Dr. Fraud called the id. She was frightened; she knew just how precarious Crono's position was, and if something happened to him, she would never be able to forgive herself.

Lucca sighed in frustration; she was getting angry. "Listen Gaspar! Okay, normally I wouldn't ask you a direct question, I know better. But I really need to know this: is Crono all right? It's been…" she looked at her watch, "…twenty-three minutes since the Omen finished disintegrating. I need to know if he, if they, need help!"

Gaspar seemed to get upset at this "I can only tell you what I know. They were all relatively healthy, though absolutely saturated with residual healing magic, when they destroyed the Mammon Machine and defeated the queen!" He sighed, "At least now the poor woman can rest…"

Lucca curtly snapped, "Forgive me if I don't give a flying fuck about that murderous bitch! I want to know, how's Crono?" Lucca hardly considered herself a lady, but it took quite a bit to rile her into spewing such foul profanities.

Gaspar seemed to seethe at that remark, "That 'murderous bitch' was my queen…"

"…Who sold you and the rest of your kingdom down river for a shot at eternal life!"

"Enough!" Glenn interceded; this was no time for internecine struggles. "Enough! Both of you! Lucca, thine remarks were most uncalled for, and Gaspar, please remember her closest friends currently have their lives in peril! So can ye please tell us how our confederates fare?"

Gaspar did not look at him. He said flatly, "All I know is that Lavos is summoning every reserve of power he has in order to defeat them. There are only two ways in which we will know the outcome…"

"They'll kill Lavos and be ejected back here, or the Lavosian energies will rescind, which means they're all dead! Unacceptable!" Lucca pointed at a nearby bucket "We can't even use the goddamn bucket because they're fighting Lavos in 12,000 B.C! Great plan Crono! We can't use the Epoch because it would be destroyed getting us there! So we're stuck here! This is unbelievable!" Lucca exclaimed as she ran her left hand through her now uncovered brown hair, which was becoming moist with sweat.

"Sometimes life is not how we wish it to be…" said Gaspar.

Lucca screamed in impotent rage.

Glenn spun her around, "Be calm, Lady Lucca; we can only wait and see."

Lucca shook her head "Ahh! You're right, you're right…" She breathed to calm herself. Flaring tempers weren't good for anyone, but how could she think when her best friend was in danger and she could do nothing?

Clearing her head was difficult; she was so hot. Even for a Guardian, she had a freakish tolerance for cold, no doubt a result of her family living in the sub-arctic taiga of eastern Zenan for centuries on end. This was helpful in dealing with the frigid and windy climates of Zealean and post-apocalyptic Guardia, where she took the weather in stride. She was fine with heat as long as she properly ventilated. As a consequence, as soon as the snows melted, she wore shorts and loose clothing as often as possible. She hated armor that covered her legs; it was stuffy and she would begin to sweat profusely.

She wore a suit that her father had given her for her defense. The Ashtears, not the greatest at monikers, called it the 'Taban Suit.' Lucca could move easily in it, it was lightweight, and flame resistant. The suit was a two-piece body suit, and Lucca had taken to wearing the top half under her clothes, a good idea in general. But the pant bottom half was fully exposed from waist to tanned leather boot, its undyed cloth covering contrasting with orange jerkin, contrasting with the bright rainbow hues of the group's last Prism Helm.

It was an abjectly ugly combination, but it worked. In all the books she had ever seen with illustrations of armors, whether cheap romances or histories, they were at least as aesthetically pleasing as they were functional. It gave Lucca perverted pleasure knowing her appearance at that moment was such a sharp contrast to what would be expected in a sweeping and heroic epic, such as the one she seemed to be living. It reminded her that life was, thankfully, not as the Romantics envisioned it. Romanticism…in her opinion, it was a genre incapable of producing anything but drek. Yet somehow, it had been the dominant artistic genre for most of the 10th Century. It was over blown, over dramatic, over contrived, overly fanciful, and yet civilized world, the highest level to which humanity had yet ascended, ate that shit up. Her tastes were more in the parodies of say, the Arlandian satirist Samuel Longhorn. Love, Lucca decided, must indeed be strange, for though he disliked unbridled Romanticism, Crono was with Marle, whose outlook on life was hopelessly Romantic…

Crono; he was in danger. Lucca had to stay focused, not let the anxiety get to her. She looked over herself. With her Wondershot slug on her shoulder, she was ready. Glenn had the legendary Masamune broadsword at his side. His Lode Shield lay near his feet and his ever-present Lode Vest had never left his torso. That left the robot.

She looked over at Prometheus who had just finished equipping his 'Crisis' arm onto his body. "Hey, you ready trashcan?"

His head swiveled so his optical sensors focused directly on hers. "More ready than you, meatbag!"

Lucca ready wished he could smile, so that she could better appreciate his joking remarks.

Lucca gasped mockingly. "Oh, such remarks from a protocol robot! My word, what is the world coming to?"

"Madam Lucca, no robot, no matter how well programmed, can indefinitely endure such verbal abuse and must therefore lash out from time to time."

"Oh, blow it out your exhaust pipe!"

Ayla just watched this silently, "Future people strange." She muttered to herself. Then again, Iokan warriors could do some pretty strange things to mentally prepare themselves for battle…

"Gaspar!"

Gaspar's legs had suddenly given way, and he hit the ground, hard. The four others rushed to help him, but he struggled to his feet, and was almost on them when the others got to him. Lucca asked first "What happened?!"

Gaspar steadied himself with his cane, readjusted his derby. His words sounded shell shocked "I, I don't believe it."

"What?" Lucca asked.

"He's dead."

Well, that's reeeal helpful, Lucca thought to herself. Please, let the 'he' be Lavos…or Magus…

Gaspar continued, "Lavos…is dead. Our world, our world is now safe from him."

Lucca was smiled at bit, before she thought of her friends' fate. "What about the others?"

"I don't know young lady, but they will be here shortly."

Lucca put her hand to her chin and considered her course of action for a second. Then she spoke, "All right, everyone listen up! Get to the wall fast; we don't want them falling on top of us. Glenn, Prometheus, Cure Wave a soon as they get here. Understood?"

They all acknowledged her orders then made haste to the wall. Within a few seconds, they heard the 'barong' sound of a gate being opened. From someplace up above, Crono, Marle and the Magus fell to the ground prostrate by the 'Day of Lavos' bucket, along with a phenomenal amount of phlegmic material, which coated them and much of the surrounding floor.

"Oh, shit!" Lucca exclaimed in surprise, as she certainly hadn't expected them to come back like that. "Okay, Glenn, Prometheus: check to make sure they're breathing!" She ran over to Crono, almost slipping in the lavender-green gunk, not realizing she hadn't said who should check whom. She just had to make sure Crono wasn't drowning in the disgusting stuff. It was almost nauseating.

Crono laid head down, katana in hand above his head. Lucca flipped him over in short order; his sword fell out of hands and made a soft clattering sound that faintly echoed. He was unconscious, but breathing. His face was scratched and bruised, but that was nothing a good Cure spell or midtonic couldn't cure.

"Thank God," she sighed. She began nudging Crono. "Hey, Crono. Crono. Come on, man, speak to me. Come on!"

Lucca was about to accuse him of being a lazy ass, when he groaned and regained consciousness. He blinked and slowly looked around, then straight at Lucca. Somewhat dazed, he asked "Did…did we actually kill him this time?"

She lifted his head a little bit and wiped the residual gunk off with the bottom of her jerkin. "Yeah. You killed Lavos, at least Gaspar says you did." She did a playful punch on his shoulder, only just touching it; in her experience, punching armor stung. She smiled at him, "Ya did good kid. But…uh, what do you mean 'did we kill him this time?' Did he come back to life or something?"

"Uh, Lucca, it was terrible. First we thought we killed it, on the outside. But it was just a shell!" Lucca was shocked; then chided herself. After all, it couldn't be simple; it could NEVER be simple. She rotated her right hand as if to say 'go on' and that is what Crono did. "So we climbed inside, and wouldn't know it? Lavos was all hollow. There was this big…monster creature in the center of it, and then we hacked off its arms and beat it to a pulp in short order. So it should have been over, right?"

"I suppose." Lucca said. She looked over at the sound of someone hurling. Glenn was kneeling over the princess. He shoved his hands under the rainbow hued plating of the Prism Dress, and thrust his hands into her stomach. This action was followed by Marle vomiting the phlemic stuff out in lesser and lesser quantities.

"No! Then, the monster disappeared, and then, there was this thing, it was…bipedal, but its head looked like a…Picish terrier in a fishbowl, and it had with it these little…floating acorns…yeah, that's what they looked like, and all the while, it felt like we were fighting in a gate, and we could see, bits and pieces of each time periods. We used up all the Megaexilirs, I think all of the Exilirs, but I'm not sure. Anyway, it took us forever to kill this, uh, Lavos essence, 'cause one of those damn acorns kept reviving the fishbowl thing. So we ganged up and killed the acorn, after killing the others, then the whole place, wherever it was, just, ruptured, there was this awful roar, then boom! I thought we were gonna die. Or fight another form, which would be the same thing. Then I woke up here. We are back at the End of Time, aren't we?"

"Well, where else could you be?" Lucca asked rhetorically as she smiled.

Crono thought about it for a couple seconds. "Well, this could be Heaven, but then I'd have to say I'm rather disappointed in the quality of the angels." He gave her a knowing grin. "That, and I'm too sore to be dead."

Lucca was less than pleased. "You know, if I wasn't so happy that you were alive, I'd kill you right now?" But as the humor registered, her face was forced to smile.

The grin became positively shit eating. "That's what I like about you, Lucca, you're frisky." He dryly chuckled.

Lucca rolled her eyes, "Oh God above…why can't you be quiet with me? You're less obnoxious when you keep your mouth shut."

"Well, if I weren't obnoxious, I'd have no personality at all." Crono rattled off without a thought.

"That's precisely the point. You're so damn irritating sometimes." She yanked her hand out from under Crono's head, the Prism Helm sliding off with it. The Helm hit the floor with a quiet clang, the head with a thud cushioned by thick hair. Crono groaned.

"Touché." He wrinkled his nose, "Uh, Lucca, what's that smell? Uh, I thought I was imagining it before, but it's making me sick."

"I dunno, you came in with it. It's greenish, and it looks and feels a lot like snot, and you're covered in it."

Crono, obviously, was less than pleased. "Wonderful. Blood. Sounds like Lavos' blood, or whatever passes for it. Never stunk like this, though." He had a realization, and sprung to his feet as fast as his shaky legs and heavy armor would allow. "Lucca, where's Marle? Is she all right? Blast it all! It just strikes me now," he said as he looked around in the wrong direction.

Lucca put her hands on Crono's shoulders. "Hey, Lover Boy, it's okay. People are allowed to forget things after…smiting, big, evil, monster things. Anyway, she's right over there." She pointed over his shoulder.

"Oh, thanks, Lucca." She turned around, still a little disoriented. He almost slipped in the gunk, but managed to keep his footing, and made his way to Marle. He leaned over her, as she coughed a few times. Lucca walked over as well.

Marle fluttered her eyes a bit and groaned something like "Ouchies." Then she looked at Crono, and asked him, "Did we do it?"

Crono just smiled and nodded his head.

"Yippie!" Marle said, as she grabbed Crono around the neck and brought her torso up to Crono's in a big hug. Crono had to support this extra burden entirely, though he didn't seem to mind and hugged her around the waist, lifting her up in one thrust, his body followed. The hero and the princess stood fully erect; they released each other, knowing what was coming next.

Crono removed his right glove, and then gently used his exposed hand to caress his lover's face, which Glenn had already cleaned. His left arm went around her waist, then they embraced. The whole world seemed to slip away, leaving just the man and the woman, together, in each other's arms. Crono gently tilted Marle's head, her lips quivering ever so slightly in anticipation. There lips seemed come together in so motions, and then became one in that sweet kiss of True Love.

Of course this seemed to take forever to Lucca for entirely different reasons. It seemed obnoxious to her, and that she could accept. They had almost just been killed, they were tired and bruised, but they still could pull off a Carolinian kiss for the record books. But it also made her feel hollow, and maybe, just a little bit sad. Lucca would have smacked herself if she had been in private. She made note that though their armors were battered, Crono was dashing in his black Moon armor, Marle was radiant in her Prism Dress, and the gunk had given it all such a sheen, that the scene was, picture perfect.

Marle sounded sickly sweet to Lucca's ears as she softly whispered, "Crono, we did it. We saved it; we saved everything. You're a true hero, my hero." Crono said nothing, but simply beamed. They stared lovingly at each other.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Everyone turned their attention from the lovers to the clapper, the Magus. Prometheus's heal beam was barely audible as its green light permeated Magus's flesh with medical nanomachines. He was completely clean of the gunk, which meant he had used magic to clean himself or that slimes of different types repelled each other. He smiled wickedly.

"Oh, I wish I had had the luxury of being young and in love. Of course, stupidity of that magnitude was usually followed by a horrific death by something or other."

Lucca was sure, by the sound of her voice, that Marle was pouting, "Well, I'm glad you're alive too Magus." That makes one of you, Lucca thought. "But tell me, why do you always have to be such a meanie?" In the meantime, Lucca had switched her position so that she could she the faces of all the talking parties. She noticed Glenn was tense, and glanced over at the Magus warily.

The Magus put his gloved right hand over his mouth and chuckled, then looked straight at the princess, "If you have to ask, you'll never understand. Of course, not understanding is something that comes very easily to you, my dear princess."

Marle looked around, then found Lucca and asked her, "Lucca, what did he just say?"

"Essentially, he enjoys 'raining on your parade,' proverbially speaking, and he thinks you're an idiot."

"I thought so." She turned to the Magus, "Mister, I will have you know that I am NOT an idiot! Isn't that right Crono?" She turned to Crono and looked at him with a sweet smile that screamed 'if you don't agree with me, I will make you a eunuch.' Crono obliged her, and nodded his head confidently.

At this, the Magus' body began to convulse. Snorts escaped his mouth, but he regained his composure. "That, my dear, is such a bold face lie, that were I not so exhausted, I would roll on the ground, clutching my sides in utter guffaw."

Glenn entered the fray, "Villain! Insult not the descendant of His Majesty and fair Queen Leene!"

The Magus looked at Glenn. "It's bad form for a knight to insult his allies, Sir Frog, Retainer of the Queen. Besides, I mean her no harm, I simply had to stop that spectacle, or I might have wretched my guts onto the floor and I think it's already messy enough. Don't you?" His words were saturated with contempt.

Glenn's gaze became steely, but it would have more effective had they been human eyes. "Villain, I speak for the last time. Hold thy tongue or I shall remove it."

Such exchanges of words were not uncommon, and it was uncertain whether Glenn would take advantage of the Magus' weakness and try and slay him once and for all. Nonetheless, Gaspar thought it best to intervene.

"Excuse me, young ones!" He shouted, but not move his head. "If it does not trouble you, I would like you to gather round. I wish to speak to you." Somewhat warily, the group stopped its bickering, and made a half circle around the man and the light post. "Now that all of the pleasantries have been dwelt with, I want to thank you all. I know it isn't much to have an old man's gratitude, but know that survivors of Zeal, if they knew of your actions today, would be forever grateful. Not simply Zeal, but all the lesser nations of our…ahem, my time; they would never allow your memories to falter, if they were allowed to know. You have avenged us, slain our destructor. It is fitting that creature destroyed my world and did not long survive its rampage."

"It was our pleasure!" Marle squealed gleefully. She then groaned and grabbed the side of her head, as if her high-pitched voice had jarred something loose.

Before anyone else could speak, Gaspar made a gesture for quiet, "Now that Lavos is no more, you must return whence you came. The Gates are already growing weak, and soon, the only avenue of time travel will be Belthasar's 'Wings of Time,' a precarious position indeed. Finish your business, divide your spoils, and return home victorious. But do not speak of this affair; the stability of the new timeline, whatever form it takes, depends on your silence. Go now, time is short."

All of them silently nodded, and walked to the alcove where most of their stuff laid. It was not a long process. Ayla took some furs and some charms that protected against the cold; her people were going to need it. The other members took a few trinkets, but most of it was declared collective property of the three from A.D. 1000. Almost before they had started, Crono and Marle had left the others, and sat on the floor, backs braced against the wall, holding hands, but really too tired even to talk. The others save Magus had agreed to load the Epoch with the stuff that they didn't want.

Lucca had taken the opportunity to change clothes, and was back in her normal ensemble, but not before she noted that the Magus had declined to take the Zealean currency. Ducrats were still being used in the aftermath of the end of that world, and the team had enough so that one could live quite comfortably for a while in that era.

The Magus had begun to walk away, into the Pillar room. Each of the nine pillars of white, bluish light connected to a different Gate. If Lucca had to make good on her undelivered promise to her King, she would rather do it at the End of Time, than chasing the mage all over Guardia of the Middle Ages.

She ran up behind him and called out to him. He did not answer. Magus had a nasty tendency of ignoring the others unless it suited his purposes. When Lucca brought her Wondershot to bear, pumping a shell into the firing chamber with an audible chugh-chugh!, even the great Magus had to pay her heed. He stopped, and said nothing, nor did he turn and face her, or the end of her gun.

"Do you know what the difference between me and Glenn is?" Lucca asked quickly. "See, Glenn has this problem about killing people in cold blood. I don't."

At this Magus did turn around. In a completely serious tone he said, "I thought the difference between you two was that Glenn likes boys and you don't." Lucca might very well have killed him that instant, but for the fact that the Wondershot's recoil was so bad that even at this range she might miss him. That would be bad because he was quick, and would likely be on her before she could reload.

Her anger had not gone unnoticed. Magus gave a contemptuous chuckle and sighed. He said, "Relax, Lucca. Don't think I haven't seen you sizing up young men at the inns like so much cheap meat. It's the exact look some of my more, voracious, mystics gave to captured knights before our dinner feasts. I think, though, you desire to consume something much different from what they did." So Poetic, yet so perverted. "I've noticed that among you all, that there seems to be a lacking in a sense of humor. I make jokes, but nobody laughs but me. Perhaps I'm simply too easily amused."

"It's tactless to insult someone with a gun pointed at you." Lucca said, "Of course, I doubt your mother had time to teach you manners, what with her being both the queen and the court whore." She flashed a wicked grin. If he was going to a bastard, she would be a bitch. "What a career woman." Pouring salt on wounds was so much fun.

If he was angry, he did an impeccable job of hiding it. "This conversation bores me. What do want?"

Lucca's smile lessened. "I don't really care where you go, but you're not going back to 600."

"And, tell me, why should my decision rest on your desires?"

"Because if you don't, you'll find yourself headless, courtesy of 12-gauge buckshot, hyper-accelerated by Sun Stone to about 951 miles an hour, give or take. Did you know the Wondershot is the only Shotgun in existence where the pellets break the sound barrier? Ain't science great?"

Magus looked at her, "Lucca, you are a fool, so let me be clear. I know nothing of your pathetic 'firearms' nor do I need to. Furthermore, I have no intention of ever returning to your pathetic kingdom, in any era. I hate Guardia: it's climate, it's food, your goddamned language. Now that I have no need for the knowledge of the Mystics, I have no reason to ever go back. And I sincerely hope that the Enlightened moved out of 'Acacia,' because it would be a shame if noble Zeal sired such a worthless race as yours."

"Hey! Two Acacians just destroyed the greatest threat humanity's yet known. And never, never, forget it was I who figured out how to use the Gates. I invented the Telepod; I repaired a robot from 1,300 years in the future. So don't you dare badmouth my people! Zeal died, while Guardia thrives!"

Magus sneered, as if his façade were slowly cracking. "Your arrogance blinds you, so let me show you light. You think you're so smart, but you're not; if you were, then you would realize one thing." He extended his index finger near his face. "The sun is the most potent force that we shall ever see in mortal life; yet it has yet to burn away a field, or destroy a house, something that the tiniest spark can do. Your inventions, as I am told, blow up in your face, and after seeing you with that 'shotgun' of yours, I can see why. That gun is far too powerful for a little girl like you. Power is useless unless you can control it, direct it, command it to your will. I know spells far more fierce than Dark Matter, yet that spell remains the strongest in my repertoire, because those other spells might do more harm to me than to my enemies.

"And Lucca, I want you to take a good long look, here and now." He made an expansive gesture, "Notice the lack of celebration, jubilation. It's not because you're weary; you didn't do any fighting, I did. It's because you and your friends have no vested interest in Lavos' destruction. Lavos did you no harm until you went looking for it. Each one of you could have lived out your lives in peace, dying in your beds as old men and women, long before the end of your world. Even the longest-lived Zealot only made it to 360. No, you did have reasons, but your reasons are shallow: you went after that creature to satisfy your sense of aesthetics. You couldn't accept the inevitable. Death comes to all things, and when you saw your world end, you were reminded of that fact. Your juvenile fear of your mortality led you on this fool's crusade. But you will not save yourselves; you will still die."

"But we never expected such a thing," Lucca retorted.

Magus ignored her. "You didn't save Guardia either. Zeal lasted for 2,500 years, as a floating kingdom for the last 800. Zeal died, so shall Guardia. In a different time, in a different way, but Guardia will pass from the earth nonetheless. On that day, your people will sit on their ruins, as did we, as did the Vayans, as did a hundred thousand other peoples, and weep for all that was lost. When the merchants wept at the death of the Whore of Babbleon in Endings, they said things that where said before, and are destined to said again. 'Never again will trade commence, nor industry flourish in the walls of Kajar,'" he said, paraphrasing Endings.

"Remember Christopher's words: 'But this one portion of man's demise, ultimately, is of little consequence…' That is, of course, if you believe that Liaisonist tripe. But man will die. How much time did we buy here, huh? A hundred years, a thousand years, but what then? Will you go there and change time again? Then again? I think you will, because you're a group of busybodies."

"Oh, busybodies, huh?" Lucca was naturally irritated, in part because there was a measure of truth in the wizard's words. "So tell me, great wizard, is revenge somehow more noble than our concern for the future of our people? And who are you to take the moral high ground, murderer? You traitor to the Human race." Neither of them noticed that everyone else had been drawn towards them.

Magus responded, "I don't claim any morals, but your pathetic band does. And if one is to have morals, one should take care not to impede justice. That is what Lavos was; a divine punishment from God, and in our Testaments, there was never any mention of mankind's salvation from its doom. It might very possible that today we have angered God; we have destroyed His plans and you know how temperamental He can be."

Before Lucca could ask the inevitable, Magus said, "For my part, I don't care what God, or anyone else thinks. My motivation was pure: Lavos wronged me, so I set out to kill it. If God wanted me to cooperate in His plans, He should have given me a better lot in life. If I destroyed the world to achieve my goal, so be it, and if I helped the world in killing Lavos, so much the better. If I suffer at His hands, I have done my life's work, and I am happy in that. As for where I will go now, I really don't know." He looked towards Gaspar and the light post. "Hey old man! You've seen more of time than any of us. Where is the best place to live?"

Unbeknownst to Lucca, something in Gaspar snapped. He said, "Young man, that is up to you. But would you be interested to know that your sister survived the Ocean Palace disaster?"

Magus walked up to the man. "Gaspar, I am no fool. Nothing could have survived that, unless they had Lavos' help. I have no use for false hopes. Now answer my question."

"I'm not lying. Your sister did not die when Zeal fell, nor did she perish when the Black Omen was destroyed."

The Magus looked straight at him, "Assume that I believe you. Where is she?"

Gaspar's tone was flat, "It doesn't matter, you'll never see her again."

The wizard's expression became one of displeasure "Do not toy with me, old man. I am not one to be trifled with."

"It is not wise for the tongue to endanger the body." Gaspar said evenly, even as it seemed a confrontation was immanent.

"Uh, Lucca…" Lucca heard a female voice behind her. Her whole body shook from shock. She turned around and saw that Marle had patted her shoulder. She wanted to scream at Marle for sneaking up on her, but the princess probably either couldn't understand, or wouldn't listen to her. Then she would say Lucca was being silly.

"Oh, Lucca, what did Gaspar say?" Marle was concerned. Even to her, it was clear Gaspar was picking a fight.

Half in shock herself, Lucca said, "I think he was saying the Zealean version of 'Don't let your mouth get your ass kicked.'"

They looked back over, and saw the argument end as the Magus' scythe flew into his hand from where he had dropped it after his arrival. "Okay, Guru, if you will not tell me willingly…"

Before he could strike Gaspar, a gust of hurricane wind flew through the End of Time. The Magus was picked off his feet and was deposited on the courtyard wall, where he fell to the ground, right into the gunk, his scythe clattered on the ground, far beyond his reach. In the instant, everyone's eyes turned towards the man by the light pole. His derby had been knocked off, and his eyes were bloodshot, his once passive, even kindly face, was now contorted into a snarl. He looked so full of hatred and contempt towards the mage, that Lucca wouldn't have been surprised if Gaspar's visage alone killed the Magus. All were silent, waiting for him to do something.

"Shut up." He said silently. Extending his arms forward, and placing his left hand in his right, he chanted a few sort phases: a Lock spell that rendered the mage impotent in magic. "You used to be so quiet, remember, young prince?"

"How dare you! Attacking me, after all I've done…" The mage tried to retort as he climbed to his knees, ready to pounce on the old man.

With the speed and grace of men decades his junior, Gaspar quickly walked over to the Magus. Gaspar's cane popped out of his hand, only to be caught at the base, and it's brass handle crushed into the Magus' face just below the left eye. Tiny dibbles of blood splattered onto Gaspar's mustache.

"Shut the fuck up, and listen to your elders! You impudent brat! I've had enough of your condescending shit!" He kicked the Magus in the ribs, eliciting a groan from the prostate man. "You think you're such a bad ass, don't you child." He laughed cruelly, "I grew up in Kajar's Coalan district, and let me tell you; you would last all of ten minutes there at night. A minute for a gang to spot you, a minute to drag you into a dark alley, and eight to bleed you dry. You're a punk, a bum! That's all you are."

Gaspar composed himself somewhat, then continued, "You call these noble children 'busybodies'?" He pointed at the three from 1000, Lucca on the right, Crono behind her on the left and Marle in between. "Janus, I'm never going to tell you where your sister is. Do you know why? DO YOU KNOW WHY?!"

"Oh temper, temper…of course I'm not surprised; poor, Earthbound trash always revels itself." The Magus wheezed, still on the ground, trying to gather his bearings, so he could smite the offending Guru.

Gaspar would have none of it. He yanked the prince off the ground by the crimson cloak fastened around his neck. "You little cunt rag!" Gaspar slammed the other man into the wall. "I should kill you right now! How dare you call me, ME, an Earthbound?! My family was dirt poor, but goddamnit, we were Enlightened, and don't you ever forget that!" A painful looking punch to the Magus' stomach followed, and the wizard could not help but groan.

"Mister Gaspar!" Marle rushed past Lucca and came close to the man, though she made sure to stay out of his reach. "Why are you doing this?! You've never done anything this before! What did Magus ever do to you?!"

Gaspar looked at her, and his hatred dissipated, "Young princess, I will tell you." He turned back to the Magus, let him go and then gave him a fierce right hook to the eye, the eye which was already swelling shut after the cane's blow. Gaspar's expression of hate, if anything, became more visible than ever. He then pointed at the Zealot prince. "This hateful piece of garbage is stinking up my living space! Now, you my dear, you and your friends charged blindly onto Mount Woe, then into the Ocean Palace, to try and save our kingdom, not knowing how much danger you were in. You tried to save us, with no regard for your own well being, and for that I will always be grateful."

Gaspar pointed at the Magus. "But this little shit! He knew; he knew what was going to happen. It was all in the past for him! Wasn't it, you little ingrate?" Gaspar shook him a little, as Marle retreated to her previous position. "You could have saved her; you could have saved us all! All you had to do was kill the queen at the Ocean Palace, when everyone knew she had gone off the deep end! Then we would have survived! But no! You were never interested in saving anything! You just wanted revenge. You were so consumed in its thirst you couldn't do anything but salivate at the thought of meeting Lavos again. You never cared about Schala, or your birthright as king, or any of your people!"

Magus finally got in a word edgewise. He spoke through bloody teeth, "Zeal was destined to fall, old man, and I fail to see why you should be so angry at me. It's not like you did anything, Guru."

"I was never in a position to do anything: you did! And I know you're wondering how a man of my position, even form such a base upbringing, could now disgrace himself so. When Zeal fell, I lost everything! EVERYTHING! Our kingdom was destroyed, and you expect me to be sanguine about it?! You expect me to be civilized about it?! Fuck you! Let me tell you something: you treat the fall of Zeal like some god-damned piece epic poetry! It's not.

"I remember that day, you know. It was a Thursday, and my whole staff was looking forward to Friday, payday. And I remember, early in the morning, about an hour before I was summoned for the opening ceremonies at the Ocean Palace, surprising, because I had opposed the project, and ever since, I'd been under de facto house arrest. Your mother probably wanted to gloat at us Gurus in her triumph. Anyway, one of my underlings, very powerful time sorceress, Kara, yes, Kara, was her name. She just came by to wrap some work of hers, and wish everyone well. She was taking six months off of maternity leave.

"She and her husband, they had been expecting their first child. She birthed early; had quintuplets. Oh, you should have seen her, Janus; she was so happy. I don't think there's a happier face than that of a first time mother, except perhaps that of a first time father. Seeing her like that; that was my last happy memory. She was in prime of life, with children just beginning theirs. And all this time, I've never tried to find out what happened to them just a few hours later. I don't want to confirm my suspicions. And there were millions more, just like her."

Gaspar sighed, emotion seemed on the verge of overwhelming the man, but he regained composure, "But you don't really give a damn, do you? Your quest was always to destroy Lavos, and, well, you've done it. You have outlived your purpose!" Gaspar said. For a Zealot, the last phrase was the highest compliment; it meant that he was now free to live his life according to own will. Gaspar did not mean it as a compliment.

"And so have I. I'm not a Guru, I'm no longer your guide, I'm not anything anymore. So I can say what I've wanted to you little cocksucker since they drudged you up here. Because of your stupidity, I can never go home! Ever!" Gaspar sneered, then emotion left his face, and then his voice, "Schala was, is or will be happy without you. That's all you need know, my prince. Now go, and enjoy the fruits of your victory." Gaspar told the mage in mock congratulations, then slammed him into the wall so hard his head cracked against it. Gaspar let him fall in a heap on the ground. He looked over at one of the group and said, "Ayla! Come here!"
Ayla, like everyone else, had been taken aback by Gaspar's violent outburst. She stepped forward; "Ayla sorry Ayla called Gaspar creepy old man…" she began somewhat nervously.

"Oh, that's all right, my dear. In your shoes, I might well have said the same thing. Now, I believe there was something you wanted to say to our dear prince here." Gaspar said as he rubbed his right knuckles with his left, both hands now resting on the top of his cane.

Ayla looked at him, "Gaspar mean Magus?"

"Yes, yes, go on." He encouraged her in a friendly way.

She went up to the Magus, cleared her throat, and said, "Before Magus go, Magus must undo special words on Glenn."

The Magus, getting his second wind, got to his feet and said, "You must be joking."

Glenn spoke up, "'Tis all right, lady Ayla. I needth not an advocate. Thee need not make mine plight thine own affair."

Ayla turned and looked at Glenn, "Glenn is Ayla's friend. Friend look out for friend. Ayla make this quick."

The Magus, standing several inches above the cavewoman, looked at her contemptuously. He was bruised, but unbroken. "Mongrel, you know very well that I have yet to remove that curse from him, despite the endless whining and threats from this band of idiots. If you think, well, if you think at all…If you believe I will cow before you now that I am weakened and exhausted from fighting Lavos, you are grav…"

Ayla gave a brutal kick to the Magus' shin, and it broke with a sickening crack. In battle, he was ready for anything, had healing magic and tonics at his disposal. This wasn't battle though; this was beating, the kind given by the vilest rouges to weary travelers on lonely roads. He fell to the ground, now covered in gunk. Blood began to stain his purple pants crimson red. Lucca deduced that he had suffered a very bad compound fracture.

Like an iron clamp, Ayla's hand contracted around his throat, cutting off his access to life sustaining air. He tried to use his hands to pry hers off, but strength was not his forte, it was Ayla's.

"Ayla know Magus no afraid to die. Many like Magus. Magus has no reason to undo words on Glenn, so Ayla give Magus reason. Magus undo, or Magus suffer much. Of all here, Magus think Ayla most dumb. Dumb, blonde Neanderthal. But Ayla not dumb, Ayla chief!" The Magus was doing his utmost to maintain his composure; determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

Ayla continued, but this time in Guardian, "I am not stupid. And I will break you. Ay…I, have done it before. When Ioka fight Azala, many try to escape to Laruba. Whole hunting parties…went off and were…never seen again. Three summers ago, Kino and I catched one…of such a party. I did to him what I do to you, then I beat, then I tear off fingernails. I did this for three days, all days, and then, he broke. Now, will you undo?"

The Magus' body began to convulse, the hue of his face now approaching that of his hair. Ayla's face, on the other hand, became filled with a look not unlike disgust. Small gasps came from the Magus' mouth. A subconscious reaction began in Lucca's mind. The memory of mortal terror and slow suffocation combined to make two scars, scars so small that one would never notice them unless he were actively looking, on either side of Lucca's neck began to burn. If the cavewoman's request had not been so just, Lucca would have intervened on the Magus' behalf. Instead of a "yes" finally coming out of his mouth, he wheezed a very faint "Never," then clawed feebly at her hands.

Ayla's eyes grew wide in fury, "You not understand. After that, we catched all of the hunting party. The elders and I took them to the Meeting Place. There were six…in all. We buried them in the ground, up to the head. We coated heads with honey, and the fire ants come…came. All of Ioka watched heads being eaten, and the buried ones screamed like the children, the children up in front to see. I hated doing this, but no one ever try to escape to Laruba again. I will do what I must do. You will undo Glenn, no matter how long it takes."

The Magus' eyes began to roll back in his head. Lucca couldn't stand by anymore. She said, "Ayla! Enough's enough, let him go! Let him breathe for God's sake!" Ayla released the wizard, whose cheek connected with the ground. He breathed in desperately, despite the gunk's sickening odor.

Ayla faced Lucca with a smirk, "Lucca, you know I won't kill Magus, he no good to me dead." For the first time, it occurred to Lucca that her friend was not a silly talking cavewoman with a penchant for partying, but a very dangerous chieftain.

A nearby door clicked open, and out stepped Spekkio, the self proclaimed "Master of War." His current form was that of a red Nu, an old Nu. Instead of looking like a giant blueberry that had somehow managed to sprout arms and legs, as most Nus, he resembled a red ball such as Crono and Lucca used to throw at each other in games of dodgeball in days gone by. As he walked towards the group, he picked up Gaspar's derby, and placed it on the top of his own head. He stopped, took a breath to speak, then gagged and coughed. "Whoa, this stuff reeks!" He walked around to the Magus, "It must suck to be you, being covered in that gunk. Hey guys, if this is your idea of hazing, you're taking it a bit far…" he joked.

Gaspar interrupted him, "I assume you have something to say, with you being up and about." Gaspar swiped back his derby, exposing a tuft of green hair.

"Oh, yes, right" Spekkio said, "Okay, kiddos! I wanna extend my congrats to you all, especially the punk, the princess and the magician. That was the best damn fight I ever saw with less than ten combatants!"

Prometheus swiveled his head and asked, "Master Spekkio, you saw what happened after the Black Omen was destroyed?"

"Sure did, tin man!"

"Why did you not inform us this was so? We had much reason to be concerned for our friend's safety."

Spekkio laughed. "You didn't ask! Just like you didn't ask me what this goo is on the floor."

Prometheus made some electronic beeps that might have been the equivalent of a sigh. "What is it?"

"Glad you asked! Well, Crono was right, this is partly Lavos' blood, but that doesn't put the stink on it. See, when your friends killed the Lavos Core, all of its pent up energy was released caused a total protonic reversal. Completely liquefied the carcass! And that's what put the stink on this baby! Ha Ha! Won't see that again until Gozer tries to bust back in the timeline in 1084. Now, that's gonna be one hell of a fight! Nothing you guys need to concern yourselves with though." On any other day someone in the group would have inquired further, but this was today.

Marle was curious, "Prometheus, what exactly is total protonic reversal?"

The robot did not respond for a second. Finally he said, "Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light."

"That's bad, huh?"

"Acutely."

"Oh" Marle said, dumbstruck.

Spekkio smiled and said, "Okay, with that figured out, let me talk some sense into tall, dark and ugly here." He looked at the Magus, "Hee, Hee, just kidding kid!"

The smiled left his face, "Now kid, I've seen you in action, and you're one hell of a fighter under normal circumstances. Problem is, this ain't normal circumstances. Even if Gaspar over there takes off the Lock, you could get off one, maybe two darkbombs, then you're screwed. As it is you're well on your way to bleeding to death. Remember, healing spells can't replace lost blood, and they can't restore magic potency, and you'd need both to fight effectively here. Trust me on this. Remember, I'm the Master of War!"

"Never…" the Magus managed to groan.

"Ah, get off your high horse!" Spekkio reproached him, 'and will someone heal ol' blue here before he bleeds to death!" He looked around, "Hey tin man! You wanna be of assistance, here's your chance."

Prometheus obliged Spekkio, though he took the long way around to avoid Gaspar. He wiggled between the other members of his team, quite a sight to see, as his body was shaped like a small, upright boiler, giving him a rotund appearance, with all the maneuvering difficulties involved. His heal beam went to work on the mage for the second time that day. In short order, the Magus was healed, though it was highly probable that he had more blood on him than in him. He was covered in the stuff, his pants, shirt, and cape, with splotches on the gloves. There was a drying steam of the stuff coming out of his mouth, and though his eye was no longer swollen shut, another stream flowed from it, making it appear he had cried blood. From the way Gaspar starred at him, Lucca thought Gaspar might have wished to have shattered the mage's nose as well.

Magus made an angry groan and tried to leap to his feat, only to be caught midair by Spekkio's little arms, and sent crashing onto his ass. Spekkio sighed.

"Now, be a good little boy and sit! If you don't, I'll sic Ayla on you again." The Magus gave a slaying look, but kept quiet. "Now, I've seen her in action. Her persuasion technique is like her combat style: brutal, primitive and highly effective. And unlike your dad's D.S.S., or Mystic interrogators, or for that matter, the Akcrona from Crono's time, Ayla doesn't understand the concept of the use of terror in such matters. She'll just put you in a world of pain, and keep you there until you do what she says."

At the mention of the word 'Akcrona' Crono and Lucca shuddered as though one. Anyone living in the Guardia of 1000, and possessing his faculties, was terrified of His Majesties' secret police. Kidnappings in the night, torture sessions, rapes, summary executions, the stuff of legend and the stuff of reality were indistinguishable. Throughout Crono's ordeal with the Guardian justice system, it had been his one consolation that he had been arrested by the palace guard. Because they had jurisdictional supremacy, he had not been handed over to the Ackrona, and as bad Guardian Royal Prison had been, it was certainly better than being sent 'to the land of Libianca.' Infiltrating that prison would have been nigh on suicidal, rather than just stupid beyond all words, as it had been to bust into Guardian Royal. Well, maybe if one started a citywide riot, but that would be next to impossible. Maybe setting fire to the Neva, it was filled with petrochemicals and other pollutants…

Lucca shook her head to clear it. The thought of a river fire awoke the seven-year-old pyromaniac in Lucca. To see such a sight would have been so cool! But as she had missed part of the conversation, she was quite surprised to hear the Magus capitulate.

"Very well! If all of you, and I mean all of you, will let me be, I will undo the curse on Glenn."

A smile spread across Spekkio's disgustingly large face, "Glad you finally came to your senses." The smile left. "Now do it." After a moment of reluctance, the Magus began to chant.

This time it was Lucca who was curious. She tapped Marle on the shoulder. Marle turned and said "What is it Lucca?"

Lucca chuckled a little sheepishly, with the kind of smile that exposes all the teeth. "Ah, I, I didn't hear that last part." She suddenly became very quiet and leaned towards her friend, "How, in the name of all that's good and holy, did he do that? We've been trying to get him to do that ever since he joined."

"Oh, well, Ayla started doing that." Marle replied in equally quiet tones. She signaled Ayla's direction with her thumb. Ayla was looking at the Magus, quietly punching her right hand into her left. Her face told all concerned she was not at all in a jovial mood. That explained a great deal.

Marle continued, "Lucca, this just isn't right. Magus is our friend; we shouldn't treat him like this. And I tried to tell Crono, but he was all non-chalant, and just shrugged his shoulders, and looked back like nothing was wrong. I don't get him sometimes, I really don't."

"Magus is our ally, and that is all he is." Lucca had long since learned the hated fact that she could not get a word in edgewise until Marle took a deep breath. This was to replenish the air she used to utter several sentences at a speed that would put some auctioneers to shame. "And what would you rather have, Glenn stuck as a frog for the rest of his life?"

Marle looked at her a bit surprised, "Of course not! It's just, there has to be a better way than this."

"We've tried everything else. There is no better way."

Marle gave an incredibly girlish chuckle, one that sounded very much like "Tee, hee!" Then she groaned in pain. This was followed by her smile, a smile so vacuous that Lucca would never see anything like it on anyone else. Then Marle said, "Lucca, you're so silly! There's always a better way!"

Optimism…hurting…brain! Lucca suddenly wanted booze, or an aspirin. And despite what she had been taught in anatomy, she was sure her stomach was actually just to the left of her bellybutton, and the discomfort there was the beginning of an ulcer that would rage in the years to come. She groaned a little, and then faced the Magus' chanting to distract her.

When he finished, nothing happened. Not a spark, not a gust of wind, absolutely nothing. Everyone just looked at each other, waiting. Another few seconds passed before Ayla exclaimed angrily, "Magus! What this?"

The mage looked over at her. "I did my part. The curse is no longer binding." He turned to Glenn, "Now the frog must do his part. Can you listen, fool?"

"Aye, unlike thee, I can obey orders instead of merely giving them."

"Then go to the Denadoro Mountains. Once there, bathe in the falls by the cave of the Masamune. Then, the curse will be lifted, but only if you truly desire to be human again."

Glenn croaked loudly, then said, "Thee need not worry about that." Ayla looked contented, obviously believing her work was done.

The Magus' tart expression only seemed to deepen as he turned towards Gaspar, "As for you, old man, you will regret making me an enemy. One day, when I am strong again, I will come back here and kill you. Slowly."

Gaspar responded in kind, "Go fuck a horse." They had been in Zeal long enough to know that was among the worst insults in the Zealot's tongue.

The Magus ignored him and turned around to face Lucca, "I shall require transportation to the Last Village." So he had decided to return to the ruins of his home era.

"If you ask nicely, I just might take you back there after I drop off Crono and Marle."

"Please." He said through clenched teeth. They had worn him down.

"Close enough." Lucca shrugged. "Come on guys, there's a good night's rest ahead of you. You've earned it." She started to walk off, Crono and Marle behind her. The mage called out to her.

She turned around, "What is it?" she asked indifferently.

The Magus sneered at her. "Thank you for not letting me get strangled to death by that flea infested madwoman. I, I didn't know you cared." He said coldly, then blew her a kiss. He smiled wickedly.

Lucca, under normal circumstances, might have been angered by this, but she turned around, half in panic. As she expected, she saw Marle with a dreamy look in her eyes again. Then she was angry. She turned around intent on glaring the Magus to death, but he had disappeared from out of sight. Enraged, she said, "Let's go!" and try not to stamp her feet. She wanted to break things, and scream, and maybe hurt someone.

The trio began to move again, into the corridor that linked the Lamp Court to the docking port. Out of the corner of her eye, Lucca noticed that the dreamy look had not left Marle's eyes. This was trouble.

"Luc..." Marle began.

"No." Lucca was firm.

"But..."

Lucca turned towards the girl and pointed at her. She faced forward again, but not before saying "Not. One. Word."

Which, of course, had no effect. "I know there's a connection there, Lucca. I can't help it if neither one of you one wants to admit it. You'll come around though." Marle's words might not have been so irritating if she didn't sound both so innocent and so assured at the same time. At least Lucca could see Crono's eyes roll back into his head in exasperation. She had sympathy, which helped when logical arguments with Guardian royalty failed. Lucca thought of happy things: bed, hiking, working in her lab, the Neva on fire from the industrial district to the Maeotis Sea…

Lucca Lararis Ashtear, that is the dumbest idea you have ever had. Have you ever, ever heard of a river catching on fire? It can't happen! But then again, it wouldn't be the river itself, just the junk on top. On the other hand, if such a thing were possible, then wouldn't it have happened already? The Tims is in far worse shape than the Neva, at least Crono says so, but I'd remember it if the Tims caught on fire. Everyone and their mothers would have talked about it, so eventually, even I would have heard it. And besides, it would have been in the paper; the royal censors couldn't possibly have any reason to not let that tidbit print…

So the night continued after the first drop off, Lucca's friends gathering their companions to validate her story to her king. Even the Magus was convinced to stay at Truce Inn, for a little while. The prospect of clean linens and the first indoor toilets he'd had access to since the fall of Zeal no doubt helped. Spekkio returned to his room shortly after the first drop. At last Gaspar was alone, in a way.

Prince Janus had lied of course, he had never considered removing the curse, unless immanent death propelled him to try and make peace with the universe. But because none of them had asked, Gaspar did not tell. Now, there was nothing for him to do anymore. He was forbidden to ever leave the End of Time, except if his employer allowed it. In twenty years, the number of times that happened was zero. It was logical; Gaspar knew too much about the flow of time to ever be safely re-released into it. He now had only the prospect of death to comfort him. He would age, he would die, and then he would be with the one he loved again. The ones he could not save on that day, the marks on his conscience that never allowed him to contest his exile to this place.

When he first learned of the ones deemed worthy to destroy the ancient beast, he had not been impressed. While the group had come to seven, only the first three were the ones destined to fight, the others had been boons to the cause. But these first three, they were but footnotes in history before they had been plucked from their time, and their lived altered irrevocably.

The one that impressed Gaspar the most, but not much, had been Chronosus Carpenter, a thoroughly average man, save a bit of intelligence and a talent for command. Gaspar thought that if his employer saw it fit to use a Guardian war hero, there were better ones. What was worse was, his employer did not take the Carpenter of 1016 or 1010, but that of 1000, when he was barely a man, and not possessed of the good sense to discard a Medinan katana for the Tullan revolver that would find so much use by his side.

Lucca Ashtear, a brilliant scientist whose career had been destroyed in its infancy. Her posthumously published theories would win her the Noble prize she sought gain with the device that destroyed her ambitions.

Nadia Guardia, the last of her immediate family to die after their kingdom was overthrown. The manner of her death was more notable to future generations than the manner of her life.

Yet somehow, these people, barely children, had done what they had been chosen to do. Yet what was their reward for such a feat? Already, Gaspar could see the new time taking form, and it was bad indeed. Time groaned and strained seemed on the verge of break apart, as a second moon began to appear. Many different times, time the same, yet different. He could see things: the nature of the end of the Guardian Kingdom was greatly moderated, and would come a dozen years early. Strange technology and magic harnessed. A machine of great power in the future, yet in the past also. He could see a boy, his hair covered by a bandana, on a beach in land not part of the original design. He had with him a blond woman, strangely familiar, yet Gaspar did not know her. All he had to do was watch and wait, and he would learn soon enough. The boy had with him an instrument of great power, one to end the unexpected chaos and bring order back to time.

But for the three, if they had known, they would never have undertaken the quest they had just completed. Carpenter would die a dozen years early, fighting for his country, as had been his fate before. Guardia would die with him. Ashtear would die too, but would suffer far more than either of them. At least in the old time, there had been life for her after science, now there was nothing. Their lives cut short for their heroism. They had become Gaspar's friends, and he loved them in that capacity, and he silently raged that he was impotent to stop what was to be.

A voice came to him, a whisper in a non-existent wind. He was finally being rewarded for his good service. He was told that things could change, if he wished them to. A new variable could be introduced, on that might prevent the new time in its current form; it might even allow greater things, depending on how the others reacted to it.

But the choice was left to Gaspar, and he chose the variable. He did not have much choice: it was his only hope. The time stream froze in that instant, the second moon did not appear, and Gaspar watched with great interest, as the future waited to be born…