The Indoline Praetorium was a place full of questions and wonder. Grandeur did not even begin to describe the limestone city which differed from the simplistic buildings of Colony 9 all the way to the foundation stones. And no place evoked a sense of insignificance in Shulk more than the sanctum at the city's heart. Gravel crunched under his shoes, and no matter where he turned, a new archway caught his eye, a new mural, a new corner of the sunbathed lawn gleaming with its perfect symmetry.
Thanorlis hurried on ahead to announce the arrival of travellers to the Praetor – by the sound of it, he occupied the highest position of power, equal in rank to a Nopon chief or a High Entian emperor. The prospect of stepping in front such an important person manifested into an uncomfortable pinch in Shulk's gut. He never liked to stand in the centre of attention, and when the eyes on him belonged to such an influential person, it tripled his unease. Where could he even begin to relate his countless questions to the Praetor?
To distract himself, Shulk wandered across the plaza and admired the colossal paintings that covered the sanctum walls. The meaning of the images escaped his understanding, but the marriage of sky and ocean displayed in flowing brushstrokes touched him in a way he could not describe. In countless variations, bathed in the orange of a sunset or the fierce squalls of a storm, the Indoline island rose out of the endlessness of a tinted horizon. But they were no more than faint impressions compared to the centrepiece, senseless carvings on an engine's shell compared to its heart. This one mural depicted a tall construction, half obscured by clouds, as its foot lost itself in the sea. Shulk followed the line art with his fingertips.
There.
Maybe the artist had invented the image, maybe it belonged to a folktale, maybe the place had disappeared in calamity and the birth of a new world long ago. But Shulk could have sworn to have seen this place before. A dream, a wish half-realised…
He wanted, needed to go there and see this construction with his own eyes. What Nene had described as faraway sickness before, the longing for undiscovered places and unknown sights, nothing compared to the pull Shulk felt now.
It was gravitational, stronger than the forces between opposing magnets.
There. There he needed to be.
"You're making that face again."
Shulk pulled back his hand like a child when it had been spotted in flagrante, the crumb-dotted fingers in the biscuit jar. He hadn't noticed Dunban approaching.
"What face?" Shulk asked to gain time. He struggled to tear his eyes from the mural.
"The same face you made when you studied the Monado for the first time." The ghost of a smile played about Dunban's lips. "If I didn't know better, I would say you just fell in love with a collection of paint daubs."
"I, uhm, wouldn't put it like that…"
Dunban's smile disappeared. "Your fascination for this place has already made you lower your guard. At least try to maintain a semblance of sense."
"I don't understand what's wrong with you." Shulk frowned. "You have been acting like this ever since we arrived. But so far nothing we have seen has given us any reason to be weary of the Indoline. On the contrary, they have been very forthcoming."
"Shulk, we are not on Bionis anymore. We know nothing about their agenda. And until we do, I implore you to stay cautious."
"Why can't you give them the benefit of the doubt?" Shulk asked louder than intended. "Just because we don't know these people, we have no right to assume they will be our enemies. We would be repeating the mistake we made with Mechonis."
For Shulk, this settled the debate. He looked for Nene, who played with a handful of gaunt Indoline children on the nearby lawn, and intended to re-join her.
"In other instances, I would applaud your moral code." Dunban grabbed Shulk's arm. "But do me a favour and use your brain for something other than art interpretation for a moment. Thanorlis isn't telling us everything. Didn't you notice his expression when Nene mentioned the Bionis' Shoulder to him?"
"No, I didn't." Shulk tore himself free of Dunban's grasp. At this point, he no longer worried about raising his voice. "I have never been able to tell what other people think by their faces. And I won't start searching for lies because I need an enemy to direct my anger towards."
"You are truly painfully naïve."
"And you are painfully pessimistic, like Nene said."
"If you think so highly of her, what do you need me for on this trip? I wouldn't trust her to make the right decisions when it comes to these people. She is perhaps the only one on this plaza more naïve than you."
"Don't." Shulk trembled but not because of any faint illusion of cold. No, he was overflowing with rage. And this time, the emotion didn't belong to Zanza. "Don't drag her into this. If all you do is keep pushing others, maybe it was better that you ran away from Colony 9."
That managed to silence Dunban.
Shulk turned and marched over to Nene. He already regretted his words by the time he reached her, but he could no more take back what he had said than he could forget the tall construction on the mural. Why was he beeing so overly emotional, so irrational? Mere weeks ago he had begged Dunban to accompany him. But in the shadow of that mural, his thoughts were raw, confusing, too numerous for one person, and by reaching out for one thing, he was already losing the other.
He shook his head, and the softness of grass replaced the clangs of a metal bridge under his feet.
When she noticed him, Nene waved Shulk to join her and the children, who had paused their game to lounge in a loose circle on the lawn.
"… a great man," one of the children was answering a question from Nene. The boy's thin arms almost disappeared in his spotless silk tunic. "We are all counting on the Praetor to guide us. My parents told me he stands in contact with the god who created this world."
A girl who was stroking Nene's fur, jumped up. "Not true! Everyone knows the god who created this world has a voice mortals can't hear."
"The Praetor can!"
"Then why doesn't he ask the Architect for help?"
"Because the Architect is too great to concern himself with something so small, everyone knows that. After all, he created the entire ocean, not just the Indoline island."
"I believe in the Architect to save us," a third child said.
Shulk squirmed. This was a topic he really didn't want to think about. A world with no gods… He considered fleeing back to Dunban, maybe even constructing an apology, but by then, another girl had spotted him and ran over to tug at his sleeve. She couldn't be older than Aaron.
"Did you bring us something?" In her slim face, her golden eyes shone all the more brilliantly. "Candy?"
The other children perked up. "A biscuit?"
Perhaps giving children sweets upon a first meeting was part of an Indoline custom. While more and more tiny hands grabbed for his sleeves and trousers, Shulk threw a helpless look at Nene.
She only showed her empty wings. "Nene not have pockets."
When Shulk failed to present them with the desired biscuits, the children returned one by one to their seat with a disappointed sigh. Only the girl who had first approached him still stared up at Shulk through round eyes. And as his mind finally caught up to him after this sudden attack, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his last protein bar. The compressed carbohydrate tasted like rust, and even during the war with the Mechon, soldiers from Colony 9 had only eaten them under extensive grumbles. But after many long sessions in his lab, during which he missed out on one or two meals on an all too regular basis, Shulk had developed the habit of carrying a handful of these bars in his pocket at all times.
"I'm sorry," he said as he handed the protein bar to the girl. "I don't have anything else."
The girl regarded the silver wrapping like a foreign treasure. With immense care, she opened the covering and guided the tiniest crumble to her lips to verify the edibility.
Her smile then was peerless.
And while her playmates sniffled, she pressed the protein bar to her chest until Thanorlis reappeared. The children awkwardly shuffled their feet and lowered their gaze.
"How about you return to your families," Thanorlis said with a smile. "And remember to cherish any gifts you might have received."
The children obeyed, and before Shulk had time to discover any meaning behind the glance Thanorlis threw him, the Indoline ushered him, Nene, and Dunban into the sanctum.
A revered quiet cloaked the halls. Faint voices chanted, or maybe that was only how Shulk imagined this place ought to sound like. Light filtered through blue-tainted windows and cast colourful hues across the pillars. Thanorlis guided them into a vaulted chamber of forty meters height. What an impressive construction; despite the undeniable weight of the roof, the room made no use of buttresses to distribute the pressure. Instead, the half-circular design carried the ceiling and its awe-inspiring decorations. Fascinating.
At the head of the chamber, on a rostrum of limestone, stood a single empty chair: the Praetor's throne. Its owner was nowhere in sight.
Thanorlis motioned Shulk's party to stop before he climbed the wide stairs onto the rostrum alone.
Nothing else moved.
"It seems we aren't going to meet this Praetor after all," Dunban said, and his voice echoed through the chamber.
A strange shimmer entered Thanorlis' eyes. He ran his hands along the throne's armrest. "Oh, you needn't worry. He is already well-informed."
"Super-duper important guy has worse understanding of punctuality than littlepon," Nene mumbled.
Dunban turned for the exit. "I think we have waited long enough."
"But didn't I say that there's no need to wait? The Praetor is already here." The smile on Thanorlis' face widened. "If I may again introduce me with the due formality: I am Thanorlis, seventh Praetor of the great Indoline island."
"Huh?!"
"Meh-meh?!"
"So that's how it is." Dunban raised his brows. "And why the game of hide-and-seek? You could have asked us in right away instead of this pretence about needing to inform the Praetor."
Thanorlis, still smiling, sat down on the chair. It fitted him perfectly. "I hope you will excuse me this little ruse," he said. "That was indeed just for show. But if you used the time to acquaint yourself with the Indoline history through our paintings or even by breaking the ice to some of my people, I would say it was time well spent."
"Yes, you have a very impressive art collection." Dunban's tone lacked any sign of sounding impressed. "Would you care to enlighten us why exactly we are here?"
Thanorlis folded his hands. "Well, I can hardly give you the reason that led you to our island. You will have to stimulate my imagination in that aspect. As for why I brought you into the sanctum… I mentioned that we could use your help with an issue that has been troubling us. If your abilities match the seer's, this should be of little problem for you."
"We will do our best to help," Shulk said.
Nene bounced up and down. "Is true! Nene and friends have amazing experience in helping friends with quests big and small. Will be easy as nighty-nighty story for littlepon."
"I am glad to hear it," Thanorlis said before he continued in a more serious tone. "The nature of our tormentor is one that is difficult to understand for us. We first encountered this anomaly a little over twelve years ago – you must understand, for Indoline, this is an insignificant time span. Back then, the anomaly caused death and destruction in the northern quarters until it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. But since then, the anomaly has returned multiple times, and we have not yet found a way to deal with the threat. Our spears are incapable of touching it."
Shulk tensed. "Just like Fogbeasts."
Thanorlis leaned forward in his chair. The gold of his irises burned even more intensely. "A very fitting name. The anomalies indeed seem to be made out of black fog. Are you familiar with them?"
"We have fought them before." Shulk was all too aware of the Monado REX+ on his back. Although inactivated, it seemed to radiate a heat that spread in waves across his spine.
"But I thought we defeated the last one," Dunban said. He too studied Shulk's face. "Without the rift, they should all be gone by now."
"They're not gone. I saw one a few days…" Images exploded before Shulk's inner eye. The Havre crash site, a fog-infested Pterix, almost torn apart by two separate minds, Teelan – the memory strangled Shulk's throat. He needed to swallow three times to finish his sentence. "I saw one of them on the Shoulder a few days before I left."
Shulk hadn't told Nene what had happened to Teelan. Nevertheless, she inched closer and petted Shulk's hand with a furred wing.
"If you are familiar with these anomalies, I assume you understand our dilemma," Thanorlis said. "One of these Fogbeasts, as you call them, is terrorizing the northern outskirts of our city as we speak. So far, we have found no way to kill it. But you can?"
"Yes," Shulk said with some difficulty. "An ether field strong enough makes them vulnerable."
"And can you also generate such an ether field?"
"Yes."
Thanorlis leaned back in his chair. "How very curious. Our researches have in all this time not succeeded to weaponize ether. Your Homs culture has made advancements I would like to learn more about. But I'm afraid this will have to wait. First, I would like to once again ask you to lend us your strength in defeating the Fogbeast. It is a great favour, I know. But can I count on you regardless?"
Nene gave her okay with a thumbs-up. Shulk looked at Dunban, but his expression was impossible to read. The silence weighed heavy between them.
"You're the one with the Monado," Dunban said then. "Your call."
Shulk debated for another heartbeat. But he had made his choice long ago.
"It's worth a try," he said. "We will deal with the Fogbeast for you."
Thanorlis clapped his hands, and the sound reverberated across the vaulted ceiling. "Excellent! I am in your debt. But of course, you won't have to engage the creature right away. Your long journey must have tired you. How about you rest and enjoy the sights of the Indoline Praetorium for the remainder of the day? I will have someone arrange lodgings for you."
"You are too generous," Dunban said.
"Tomorrow, I will guide you to the Fogbeast." Thanorlis rose to his feet and thus concluded the audience. "May you rest well."
Dunban and Nene headed for the doors. Both of them threw a look back, but Shulk made no move to accompany them. After a moment, they gave up. Shulk kneaded his hands, unsure how to address Thanorlis who had turned his back on him and only seemed to wait for the sound of Shulk's boots to fade.
When the chamber remained quiet, Thanorlis examined Shulk out of the corner of his eyes. "Don't you want to enjoy your time with more pleasant company?"
Shulk didn't know what to make of the question so he posed one himself. "Can I ask you something? If it's not to presumptuous?"
"Please, go ahead. And let us put the fact that I am the Praetor aside while I'm not sitting on that chair. No need for formalities between the two of us."
Shulk nodded and took a deep breath. "You mentioned before that a seer came to visit your island. I need to know what happened, what he said. I think he might have left a message for me."
Thanorlis tilted his head. "The seer, yes… a curious fellow."
"Did he say anything out of the ordinary? Did he talk about the future to you, or did he… show it to you?"
Thanorlis studied Shulk's face for a long moment; he seemed to find something there that captured his interest, a secret Shulk himself wasn't aware of. He squirmed under the scrutiny.
Then Thanorlis broke the tension with a smile. "That particular story might take longer than the free afternoon you have to spare. How about we make a trade out of this? You promised to defeat the Fogbeast for us, and in turn, I will tell you everything I know about the seer – after your battle."
Shulk's shoulders sagged. He wasn't going to get any more from Thanorlis today. "That's fair."
"Use the time to rest instead. An opponent such as the Fogbeast is not to be fought lightly."
Shulk knew that well enough; the taste of ether and burned grass from that day burned on his tongue. Memories, almost as visceral as visions, clawed at the back of his mind. After swallowing with some difficulty, he followed Dunban and Nene. He scuffed his feet across the stone tiles on his way back through the sanctum halls, deep in thought. Alvis had to have visited this island for a reason. And maybe that reason tied into Thanorlis' request.
The Fogbeast that had killed Teelan had been no outlier. Despite or even because of the reduced ether concentration, the threat existed here as well. How many more roamed the world? The rift Shulk had thought destroyed, had it perhaps only relocated? And was that the place to where the visions pulled him?
These questions occupied Shulk for the remainder of the day. He wasted no more than a glance at the luxurious apartment prepared for him and his party members. When Nene snuggled up in the mountain of pillows and Dunban left with the excuse of wanting to investigate the city, Shulk joined neither of them.
Instead, he strolled back through the sanctum yard and towards the lighthouse. The beacon rotating above lured him like an Upa's forehead ray lures critters. Thanorlis wasn't going to elaborate on the seer, but that didn't stop Shulk from doing his own research. And what better place to start than the highest vantage point and technological heart of the island?
Admittedly, Shulk was also plain curious as to how to lighthouse functioned.
He overheard a few snippets of concerned conversations between Indoline on his way, and although he debated to offer his help, all by himself he lacked the confidence to approach them. Indoline culture might find Shulk's questions prudish rather than polite. But he could stifle his curiosity only so far, and by the time he reached the lighthouse's foot, he had invented a pretext to take a look at the beacon's power source for each of the five flights of stairs he had climbed.
If light was its only function, the tower didn't need fancy mechanisms, a combination of a large ether crystal, some electric stimuli, and a few lenses would suffice. But maybe the tall limestone tower hid a different purpose inside. A machine imbued with all the engineering knowledge the Indoline had to offer. In that case, Shulk would give all the metal parts in his bag, including the Monado's spare insulators, for a chance to dismantle the lighthouse down to its tiniest gear. Here was technology that had evolved alongside a low concentration of ether. Technology that might keep a small island of hover stone in the air for a few more years.
From the outside, the lighthouse impressed with its polished stone and gold decorations with the ornate patterns so characteristic for the entire city. Only the withered tree in the lighthouse's shadow tainted the picture.
An old Indoline kneeled between the roots and poured water into the stone-encircled bed. The tree thanked him with another leaf sailing to the ground.
"What else do you expect with this kind of soil," the gardener mumbled to himself.
Again, Shulk felt the urge to step forward and offer his help. He could run back to the market and buy fertiliser for the old man or ask for advice among the many people roaming the terraces. But most likely, Shulk would only get lost in the labyrinth of limestone stairs and chapels. If Fiora were here…
Shulk startled and fled from this thought into the lighthouse. To his surprise, no one stepped forwards to put an end to his exploration, and neither the entrance nor the stairs spiralling upwards housed guards. Meaning the lighthouse was open to the public.
Hopefully the invitation extended towards people from outside the island too.
Shulk followed the creaking of gears from above. A welcoming sound and a necessary motivator when faced with a sheer endless roundabout of steps. Either the stairs had been built for people with longer legs or the limited space had forced the designer to cram too many tall rungs back-to-back. Despite the regular training sessions with Dunban, Shulk puffed before the halfway point. A pair of High Entia teleporters would have saved not only him from sore feet. Then again, this far from the remains of the Bionis, and an accordingly low ether concentration, the teleporters wouldn't run for more than five seconds before the ether cycles would neutralise themselves. So, Shulk gritted his teeth and pushed forward.
The top of the tower rewarded his efforts. Not with the view over the entirety of the Indoline Praetorium, although the handful of people on the observation deck seemed to have come for this exact reason. No, what made Shulk's heart beat faster was the tower's light source at the centre of the open room.
Metal gears turned to spin a massive cage on its axis for everyone to see. On three sides, tainted lenses blocked the glow coming from inside to create the lighthouse's signature concentrated beacon. And inside that cage hung an ether crystal taller than Shulk and of such a pure colour it appeared almost white. The machine was beautiful in its simplicity.
But the natural glow of ether alone should not create a beacon strong enough to shine across the entire island. How did the Indoline convert the energy stored inside?
Shulk approached the cage to search for the answer to this question, but a voice called him back.
"Stop! If you touch that, you won't be able to move your fingers for the rest of the day!"
A female Indoline rushed over and yanked Shulk backwards by the arm. Only after they had re-established a few steps of distance between them and the cage did she calm herself enough to look over Shulk's face. Her eyes widened.
"Oh, you're one of the visitors!" she said. "Arlas, you have to see this!"
A grumble came from the support beams above, where a mechanic could maintain the ether crystal and its cage. "Don't you have work to do? I don't have time for visitors, and neither should you."
"What a grumpy old man you are."
"Everyone's grumpy these days."
The female Indoline shook her head and her brown pigtails flew around her narrow face. Then she turned back to Shulk. "You're the first one I've seen. A foreigner, I mean. Unfortunately, I wasn't around when the seer came, I've only heard the stories. But you really shouldn't touch that cage. We don't need another person take up space in the hospital." Her laugh stumbled in her throat halfway through.
"I was just curious to see how it works," Shulk said.
"At the moment, it's certainly not working properly. The cage gives you an electric shock, and a nasty one at that. Arlas up there is trying to fix the problem."
"And you are supposed to assist me with that, Valyn," the voice from above grumbled.
Shulk tilted his head and gave the ether crystal in its cage another look-over. The creaking of the gears almost drowned the sound, but the cage did indeed give off a slight crackle of electricity. And since this malfunction corresponded to the amount of power the machine used, a numb hand would have been the least of his worries if he had put his hand against the metal struts.
"What is regulating the power outlet of the ether crystal?" Shulk asked. "A relay with a single electric pulse or a consistent low power signal?"
Valyn chewed on her cheek for a moment. "A consistent input, I think."
"In that case, I have a theory what could be the problem. Would it be okay if I take a closer look?"
"Are you an expert on this?"
"I have experience in working with ether-based machinery."
Valyn grinned. "The Architect must have sent you. Please, knock yourself out. The earlier we finish up the lighthouse, the sooner I can go home and escape Arlas' moans."
Shulk's theory proved right. The cage around the ether crystal was made out of a conductive metal, and due to either poor maintenance or a bad joke from the last engineer who had put his hand on the machinery, the lower strut possessed a tangential point with the coil of the relay. And while the magnetic field still held the ether crystal in its active position, the electric field now did far more than power the relay, and far more than it ought to; namely hospitalise anyone who touched the cage while the relay operated. Re-screwing the insulators between the coil and the struts thankfully fixed the problem.
Arlas, the weathered Indoline who operated the lighthouse, only handed Shulk the necessary tools with a grumble. But the surety with which Shulk first deactivated, dismantled, and then restored the mechanisms surprised him. By the time the insulators sat back in place, he waffled about the hidden means that connected the relay and the ether source – to Valyn's annoyance and Shulk's delight.
The machine used a fascinating trick to make the most out of the crystal. A trick that went one step further than the method Shulk used to create ether fields. Although the rest of Indoline technology didn't go beyond mechanical closing mechanisms for doors in terms of complexity, they had found a way to transform magnetic force into ether energy, which in turn stimulated the ether crystal into emitting light. The output left plenty to be desired, even ten magnets the size of Colony 9 wouldn't produce enough stimuli to save the Shoulder, but Shulk couldn't help but admire the technology.
Only a world with reduced ether could have birthed such an innovation.
Fascinating.
Arlas slapped the cage which once again turned on its axis, good as new. "By the Architect, it's working better than before. The light is so beautiful, it makes you forget all hunger and exhaustion, don't you think?"
"I wish." Valyn hugged her stomach. But the furrow between her brows only lasted for a moment. "Either way, we owe you, Shulk. You have no idea what this means to us."
Shulk still had his hands on the relay, and was only listening with half an ear. With the help of a few spare parts from his bag, he wanted to expand the ether field's range. The crystal couldn't sustain a field that would cover the entire island, but it might scare off smaller Fogbeasts from the sanctum.
All thanks to the Indoline technology. If he ever made it back to Alcamoth, Shulk would supply every Havre in the fleet with a similar model.
Although the weight might prove a problem. Not to mention the worsening shortages of ether crystals.
"What was the intention behind the lighthouse?" Shulk asked and fastened another piece of blue chain around the relay. "As navigational aid for ships?"
"That too," Valyn said. "But mostly it's a call for help."
Shulk's hand slipped, and he only missed the electrified coil by a hair's width. "For help? Because of the Fogbeasts?"
"If only the fog creatures were the only problem we had to deal with. You should see—"
Arlas interrupted with a decisive clatter of his screwdriver against the cage. "We didn't build this to beg for help. We only want to communicate and receive a few answers, that's all."
"If you're too proud to ask the Architect for help, fine." Valyn huffed. "I would be happy to receive more from him than vague stories from a seer every few hundred years."
"You mentioned the Architect a few times," Shulk said. "He wouldn't happen to relate back to the seer?"
Alvis had never described himself as an architect. Then again, he had built this world out of Shulk's wish, hadn't he?
"Why, the Architect's the god who created this world. The Architect, you see." Valyn spread her arms to include the lighthouse, the observation deck, and the entire Indoline island beyond, as if all this stemmed from a single thought of the Architect. "You'd think he would take a little more care of his creation."
"How many times do I have to tell you that our small problems don't concern the Architect? We can take care of ourselves."
"Come on, Arlas, you couldn't even fix this light by yourself. I'm not asking for much. Just a small sign that he hasn't abandoned us."
Shulk had given up on the relay, and his fingers cramped around the spare coil in his hand. He felt sick. The familiar scents of lubricant oil and copper for once offered no relief, and he choked on his breath. What I – no, what we wish for…
"What if this world no longer has a god?" he asked. "What if he is powerless to help you?"
Valyn shook her head. "Can't be. He created this world. So he must have the power to maintain it too, right?"
"I'd rather put my faith in the Praetor," Arlas said. "All the Architect has given us is silence to our prayers, and dark fog creatures to our light signals."
"Maybe your constant complains made him sick."
"And maybe you are waiting for a ghost to hand you the future."
"Oh come on, if you didn't believe in the Architect altogether, you wouldn't drag yourself up the steps of the lighthouse every day."
"Of course I believe in the Architect." Arlas stroked the cage, guided its rotation with his hand. "But I'm not imagining his face when I look at this beacon. This light is the result of our accomplishment, our ingenuity. That's what I see when I look at it: the future of the Indoline."
Shulk tensed. With empty eyes, he stared at the cage as it went round and round, spinning without reaching past or future.
"How can you be so certain about…" He swallowed. "…the future?"
Arlas huffed. "We aren't."
"But it's nice to dream," Valyn added. "Even if it's a foolish hope, it is still hope I feel when looking at the beacon. To think that someday, the Architect will see it, and that he has a better place waiting for us, untouched by sea and clouds. A bright Elysium in this blue sky. We could all live there, grow crops, stuff ourselves silly, and sing songs to praise the Architect's generosity. Even if it would only last for a short while. It's nice, just the idea of it. What do you think, Shulk?"
Shulk had no answer. The coil's wire cut into his palm, a dull pain but still better than the thoughts laying waste to his brain.
He finished the adjustments to the ether crystal like clockwork, avoided the eyes of Valyn and Arlas, and fled as soon as the cage resumed its spinning. Round and round it went, and the solid ground Shulk stood on tilted. All the while, the same cursed words repeated in his head, the same cursed words that had ushered in the beginning of the end.
What I – no, what we wish for is a world with no gods.
24/07/22: There is way too much in this chapter to unpack, I think I myself am getting dizzy. Probably not my best work. Anyway, I will try to manage another update before Xenoblade 3 releases on Friday, but with university exams breathing down my neck, I can't make any promises.