EARLIER IN THE COLLECTIVE OF SCORPIO

Camus paused in the long dark hallway, a ball of blue cosmos illuminating the thick foggy path. He raised his hand; a layer of thick frost from performing Freezing Coffin on Milo remained. "He would have gotten in my way," the Aquarius murmured as he burned his cosmos, causing it to melt and casting the reflection of his cursed red eyes. He returned to his task of finding the teleportation room leading to The Collective of Aquarius…assuming the shortcut exists.

He turned the left corner and headed straight forward down a long stretch that felt like it was going forever without the lavish paintings of past Scorpios on the walls. Suddenly he paused when he reached a crossroads. His cold red eyes shifted back and forth. He didn't remember anything like this before. He moved forward when suddenly there was a loud groan. Camus turned downwards, the fog breaking as the walls began to move. Camus gasped as he darted forward before the wall in front slid over. He twisted back around before the two sides could smash and turned toward what appeared to be an empty corridor before it too twisted around. His red eyes widened before he directed his ice cosmos toward the edges trying to halt the movement, only for it to crack into a fine powder.

"Go left! Hurry!"

Camus heard the voice. Unsure, he decided to take his chance and did as he was told.

"Good! Now run forward and take another left again. You will need to wait before it makes its turn again."

"What's going on? What is happening? Why is everything moving? Who are you?" Camus shouted as he moved into place before kneeling down, his legs so tense that they were ready to snap. It was then he realized something else. "Are you…French?"

A burst of gentle laughter echoed in the room. "It's alright. I am Scorpio Ecarlate. Yes, I am French. I am not trying to frighten you…but unfortunately, I am invisible due to the blood of Ophiuchus Odysseus' blood. As for the room, this was the layout of the original House of Scorpio. It was designed so that those unfamiliar would be trapped. "

Camus turned toward the floor, the tiles covered in rotational scratches. "That sounds confusing to live in."

"From what the First Scorpio told me, it was. The feature was dismantled after he died. It proved more trouble for anyone to move through, and parts of it broke down and created security concerns. The key is that you cannot go back up. You can only move forward, or else you really will become trapped. Unfortunately, you made a wrong turn earlier. Now we should wait for the next opportunity for the walls to turn in about five minutes."

Before Camus could say anything, the crimson in his cursed eyes faded before he darted his head back and forth as if suddenly awakening from a mysterious dream. The French man was frozen in his place, trying to decipher what had just happened. "What the…" he muttered, trying to understand the ample space of blankness in his memories in his thoughts.

"IT'S ALL THEIR FAULT! First Saga lied to me! Camus lied to me! Now you betray me!"

Camus darted his head behind him. "Milo?" he muttered as he heard his friends yell through the walls. His porcelain skin paled further as he realized that what felt like a dream had come true. He opened his mouth, but words could not follow. "What have I done?"

"You put Milo in a Freezing Coffin."

"I know!" Camus held back his bark, but the shame still followed. "I…" his voice trailed but was unable to finish.

"It's not your fault. It's the curse."

But Camus shook his head. "But it isn't the first." He sighed as he folded his arms. "I hid the secret that Saga was the Pope from him without being cursed…."

"Why did you do that?" Ecarlate waited but only saw silence and decided to be more specific. "Why didn't you hide Saga's secret from him? He's your friend."

Camus leaned his head against the dark wall. "Because he was my friend, I knew he wouldn't accept Saga's deception. Not only that, but Saga was a good Pope. He did more for Sanctuary in the last five years than Shion had in the last one hundred. Sometimes I wonder… if perhaps it would be better if Saga…."

"No."

Camus turned his head toward the empty space. "¿No?" he replied in French.

"No…as in n-o," Ecarlate clarified, hinting he didn't switch to his native tongue. "Saga is one of those types that will always fall no matter how brilliant they start. Here, let me show you."

Camus shook his head. "We don't have time. You said the walls will shift in five minutes."

"We do. Allow me to enter your mind. It won't hurt, and no matter how long we talk in there, only ten seconds will pass in the real world. I don't really understand the process or why it does that-"

"I do. The mind enters a state of REM; therefore, the brain produces a great deal of activity, allowing many thoughts at once."

"REM?"

"Rapid eye movement it's…." Camus paused, forgetting that he was talking to someone's birth predating electricity. "We have machines that can read the brain like how a palm can feel a heartbeat. Through science, we learned that is the cause of why a dream can feel like it is lasting for hours or days instead of mere seconds. What you propose seems to mimic that," he explained as best as possible. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, just hold still."

Camus felt a fingertip press against his forehead before the lights flashed before his eyes.

The Aquarius had seen many things in his life, from the use of cosmos borderline magic to giants and the reincarnated Goddess herself. Needless to say, he was a complex man to impress… until now.

Women in wimples.

Street lamps are lit by oil.

Men in tights bartering with vendors on a street that was all too familiar and in some ways not.

"It's the past. I'm in the past," Camus muttered in complete astonishment, his eyes wide and alert as if trying to take in every sight.

"Well, technically, you're in my memory of the past," spoke Ecarlate as he approached, bright red hair swaying in the back while his long, lightly combed back bangs waved back and forth like a tiny flame. "It's the only reason nobody is even taking a passing glance at two gents, shiny as a set of candelabras, brought in by a pair of socialites in the boudoir."

For Camus, even the jargon of the seventh century Scorpio felt like it belonged in this place. He took a step back before bumping into a woman carrying a wooden bucket of water, causing her to drop. "Veuillez m'excusez," he quickly uttered, imagining that she must have hauled it from the Seine. To his surprise, he watched her simply blurt out a curse, completely ignoring him before turning around and heading back where she came from. Quite a mute expression considering she must have walked at least a mile to reach the Seine.

Despite Camus having a stoic facade, Ecarlate could read the confusion from the subtle raise of his brows. "I used to see her every day taking this path, but we never exchanged any dialogue between us… but I was also half her height and a third her age. Apologies."

But Camus waved it off. "This place…" he trailed, going about, trying to match locations of modern France with this place as if he was some time traveling tourist. He turned his head to see one of the crown jewels of Paris, the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Below it was the impoverished, the poor, and the crippled. Slowly but surely, the winds blew. As if time was fast-forwarding in front of him, the poor would lay there and die before being replaced by larger groups of the downtrodden, who beg and die in an endless cycle over and over before being replaced with a mob flying the tricolored flag. Camus didn't need to do the math to know what time this was. "The French Revolution."

Ecarlate nodded.

But Camus frowned a bit. "But how? The Holy War predated it by fifty years."

"It did. When I died during the Holy War, I was able to keep track of what was going on here through my link through my mother and brother, the same way I can connect with my fellow Scorpios."

"Odd, they didn't pick him up too?"

Ecarlate shook his head no. "Mother wouldn't allow it. She was already angry at my father for abandoning her and us for his duty at Sanctuary until he required a successor. So, he offered her some gold for compensation and pretended my brother died of plague to allow him to remain with her." A heavy sigh followed. "She hated and cursed him until tuberculosis took her years later. At first, I would focus on him. Those of the Collective, myself included, abhorred politics since they remain as they did centuries ago: angry men yelling about how everything is broken while blaming their wrench for not doing its job. But-"

"-But that's not possible during the French Revolution."

"No, it is not. Through Benard's eyes, I saw what was going on. Out of many who led the Revolution, one, in particular, stood out. How familiar are you with Maximilien Robespierre?"

Camus was a bit surprised since the answer was obvious. He supposed that it was a sign that Ecarlate's knowledge of the future was limited to his brother's lifetime and what occurred in his House. "He's nearly synonymous with the French Revolution, third to Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette." He drew his hand toward his chin as it became clearer about Ecarlate's purpose in choosing this place. "Are you suggesting that if Saga stayed as Pope, he would become a tyrant?"

"You suggest otherwise?" Ecarlate countered.

Arms now folded, Camus paced a bit back and forth as if physically revealing the uncertainty. "I do. His intentions to help the people are genuine."

"They are," Ecarlate admitted. "So were Robespierre's. If you recall, he believed that ordinary people deserve a voice. But power can be poisonous, even with those who start off with good intentions. Robespierre was willing to kill the competition just as Saga did to hide his secret. Saga even declared his best friend a traitor, while Robespierre went on to send his closest childhood friend to the guillotine. The same way my brother met his end," he spoke before performing the sign of Cross with his red nail over his chest. "I predict that Sanctuary would be dripping in blood within a few years if Saga stayed in the position of a False Pope."

Camus hid his sigh. "I can tell you and Milo are related… he also believed the same thing." It was the main reason the two of them weren't entirely on the best of terms right now.

"In some ways, you believe it too. After all, you sided with Aiolos when he came to Sanctuary."

Camus nodded. "Because I knew Aiolos wouldn't kill Saga or the others if given a choice. I also felt that he would be the type to not simply lock Saga up and utilize him as he does right now."

Ecarlate raised a brow. "You say 'the others'." He inquired, curious as to why Camus added that detail. "Why?"

The Aquarius turned his head, moving around the thick mud, feeling his feet stick to it despite being an illusion. He hesitated, but deciding that Ecarlate seemed like the type who would bring whatever he said out to the others, he opened up. "I was afraid of what would happen if the truth came out… for their sake. Despite Aiolos being a Gold, the mob wanted to tear him apart if given the opportunity. I was afraid the same would happen to Deathmask, Shura, and Aphrodite. They went for the deception… but they believed it was to win the Holy War. They made mistakes, but they are worthy of being Saints."

Ecarlate hid his smile. Aquarius haven't changed. So stoic, but when pushed, they can be sentimental at times, even if they do their best to hide it. "Very true. Nobody is perfect. Even my country is guilty of some errors in the past. Sometimes I wonder if Louis XVI would have kept his head if he didn't invest so much in that hellhole of a swamp."

Camus darted his head toward him. "Hellhole?" Through the conversation, he realized that perhaps Ecarlate didn't follow what had happened with worldwide politics after his brother died. "Are you talking about how he invested in the Revolutionary War in America?"

Ecarlate flinched back. "Why yes. It's full of criminals, full of swamps, and isolated from just about anything. Are you telling me it is still around?"

"Yes, it is. In fact, it is not only still around, but it is very powerful."

"How powerful?"

"Very. In fact, they have become so powerful that they were the second country to reach the Moon after Japan set up a Kido space base on it."

The two continued to talk about the future as they strolled down the long street of 18th century Paris. For Camus, while it may not have related to the mission, it made him realize how much he missed conversing with Milo before discovering Saga's deception. It didn't help that Ecarlate, despite the red hair, mirrored quite a bit of Milo's mannerisms.

But he didn't want to stay too long. This place wasn't real, and he needed to return back and complete the mission.

O|=========================================|O

BOOK OF CENTAUR

Part 7F

CURSED SCORPIO AND AQUARIUS FINALE

Bold: Cursed Mode

Completely Italicized: The Dead

O|=========================================|O

A bright light flashed before Camus opened his eyes and found himself back in the darkened hall of the Collective of Scorpio, thick fog circling overhead. He sat up quickly before slamming his head into something before falling back down, forehead dripping from a small scratch in the center.

"Sorry…I guess you didn't see me."

Camus groaned and not because he needed an aspirin. He rested on the wall. "How far am I from the Teleporter?"

"You're right outside of it. When the wall turns, run forward and immediately take a left. Watch out; if you don't take that left, you'll be stuck in a loop that takes about half an hour to get you back where you need to be."

A groan followed as the Aquarius used a touch of cosmos to heal his wound before he waited for any signs of the wall shifting. But doubt began to fill his head as he turned back. "I wonder if I should go back to Milo."

"No…right now, Ophiuchus is still far away in the Pope's Chambers. If you purify your Cloth now, you both can return to the World of the Living without any trouble. But if you go back, it will take you at least an hour and half an hour to return."

A silent curse came under Camus' breath. He turned toward the wall, and the moment a path opened up, he shot through the gap and hugged the corner to reach the room with several Lemurian runes along the border.

Finally, something familiar.

However, instead of there being two pedestals, there were six.

Camus knew the two on the left would lead to Siberia near the Bluegard entrance while the other went to his own home. But what of the other four?

Ecarlate watched the Aquarian kneel before the others and knew what he was thinking. "I wouldn't try using those. This place mirrors the First Sanctuary, but nowhere else. I was told that three of them would lead to nothing more than an endless void. The other leads the Pope's Chambers. However…we haven't been able to get it to work, nor would it be wise for us to traverse outside of this Collective."

Camus turned toward the pedestal in question, a dragon symbol engraved with words written upon it. It seemed familiar, but at the moment, he couldn't quite recall from where. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and began to lightly rub the side of the lead to copy the engraving. Once completed, he rolled it up and placed it in his bag before standing upon the Pedestal. His blue eyes shifted around the room, searching for his fellow Parisian, his only clue being the space where the fog was parted around two feet shaped spots. "If you see Milo, let him know I'm sorry," Camus spoke before a pillar of warm light surrounded him.

As the brightness faded, bumps formed upon his skin as the chilly air surrounded him. The walls were still covered in ice while the thick supernatural fog continued to flow around his knees. His eyes caught a glance of some brown fur pelts slowly being dragged from a distance. He paused for a bit, unsure if it was a trap. Suddenly, a hand covered in more mismatched furs came around the corner, fingers feathering playfully for him to follow.

Camus stood there for a second. If he intended to fight, he would've done so while he was still teleporting and helpless over the pedestal. He grabbed his bag and began to follow. He noticed that, unlike the inner chambers of the House of Scorpio, the walls were literally frozen in place. In fact, he could even feel a frighteningly powerful ice cosmos coming from them. He hit an ice patch, and his boot slides uncontrollably. He twisted his body to control his momentum before part of his golden boot tapped a bit of blue ice, causing a frozen layer to cover it and harden. As soon as he stepped back, the front shattered, revealing a crack of his leather boots underneath. "What?" he uttered. The only way such a thing was possible was if the ice was absolute zero.

*whistle*

He jerked his head, his hands close together, ready to fight.

*whistle whistle*

The same hand, covered in fur, reached out, cosmos snowing from the tips until it produced a miniature ice sculpture of Athena pointing behind left as if indicating the direction he needed to go.

Camus' shoulders dropped. Now he knew he was being toyed around. He ran forward, but not before stopping in front of the statue. He pulled out a plain piece of paper. He tapped its head, the grain immediately freezing solid before cracking and forming a perfect hole. "Absolute Zero…" he whispered. This was the ultimate temperature that all ice Saints strived for. He himself struggled to pull it off, only to come so close time and time again. Yet the one here was practically waltzing Absolute Zero.

He gazed ahead, and right there was the stairway that exited into the Main Chambers of Aquarius. Keeping his guard, he ran up the stairs, hugging the wall before peering out the exit and leaping into the large empty room. Unsure of who was there, Camus gave three gentle pulses of his cosmos. If it was an enemy, they already knew where he was. But if it was a friend, they knew he wasn't there to fight.

His eyes turned toward the back exit, thick roses all pushed against the invisible barrier. He lightspeed over and gasped at what laid before him.

Black roses covered the path ahead like an ocean of darkness, the stems slithering around like snakes along the stairs. Hidden among the flowers were several sets of red eyes reflecting on their golden armor. He searched father up for the House of Pisces, only to realize that the giant mess of thorns and vines was the twelfth house with no apparent entrance.

"I wouldn't try it."

Camus turned to find the figure, dressed in several pelts sewn together, the hood crafted from the ears and face of a wolf over his head. "You mean crossing the House of Pisces?"

His shaded face turned directly toward him. "I mean trimming the overgrowth. Look at what they've done to my shears!" He reached under his furs to pull out a set of broken-handled blades. "This was my favorite set! If you think Asgardians create amazing swords, you should see their line of garden tools… although it may be due to a lack of wear since you count the number of warm months on one hand."

Camus' jaw dropped. This couldn't be the First Aquarius. He may not be related to his predecessors like Milo, but every Aquarius Saint held several traits about their Zodiac sign: refined, intelligent, and serious. This person reminded him of Milo back when he was ten years old. But yet, the level of his ice cosmos mastery could not be denied. "Are you the First Aquarius?"

He tilted his chin, long sky blue hair peeking out from the sides. "Why do you sound like you're hoping that I will say no?"

His cheeks turned a slight pink. "Forgive me; I saw the furs and thought you worked here," he lied, trying to save face.

The First Aquarius grinned a bit, playing along. "Ah, no worries, I get that quite a bit, even when I was alive."

"Where is your Cloth? Why are you wearing all those pelts instead?" Camus spoke.

"Because I'm a lot warmer. This place gets so cold that I swear my junk shrinks smaller than what you see in a Renaissance Painting," the First Aquarian rolled his eyes in giddiness before clapping his hands.

"This is insane. How could this man ever be an Aquarius?" Camus thought to himself. But he turned his head back to the Inner Chambers, thinking of the cosmos from within. "You reached Absolute Zero. How?"

A tiny glint from the edge of his teeth shined beneath his shaded face. He knew all about Camus' lack of performance. "You noticed? It's a lot easier than you think. After the trial, I'm more than happy to tell you," the First Aquarius purred.

To Camus, while he seemed far goofier than expected, he could tell that he seemed genuine in showing him what he had struggled with for years. "I would."

"Very well. Are you ready to get started?"

Camus raised his broad shoulders. "Yes, I am." He turned toward his Gauntlet and presented it to the sky, remembering what Saga and Aiolos told him. "I summon the courageous heroes of the past who have donned my Cloth upon my body before me. Come Aqua-"

Before he could finish, the First Aquarius lightspeed behind him and covered his mouth. "Please don't. It is not required, and every time they are around, it gets moodier than a funeral," he whispered before giving the French man a friendly kiss on the cheek before letting go and approaching the wall, his furs dragging along the ground. He pulled out a vase of water and splashed it on the surface. His fingers slid on the edge and pulled it open, revealing a luxurious room with thick wooden floors and a large marble fireplace. "All you have to do is to protect Queen Frigg."

"Very well," Camus spoke as he strutted forward before the First Aquarius' hand gently slammed into his chest plate, nearly knocking him over.

"Hold on, you can't go strolling in the middle of one of Asgard's largest castles dressed like that." His hand glowed, causing the Cloth to fall off Camus' body and leaving him in his training clothes.

Camus watched him pull off his wolf hood to reveal a handsome man with a face so androgynously beautiful that if it weren't for his exposed chest, he would've sworn it was the Waterbearer herself. His eyes followed his hands as the First Aquarius placed the coat of pelts upon him. It was cumbersome as if he had a sandbag on top of his shoulders. "What is in this?"

"Jǫrð. It is a type of sand used by the dwarves to help forge the swords of Asgard and does a good job of hiding the cosmos. By the way. Hide your face. To the King and everyone else, you are just a simple maid that the Queen took pity upon." He slapped Camus' back so hard that the latest successor of his Cloth broke through the ice and tumbled into the room.

Camus jerked his head and moved part of the wolf hood that obstructed his vision, only to see the doorway he went through had vanished. It was when he touched the side of his cheek where a few drops of sweat rolled over his fingers before his eyes traveled to the roaring fireplace. He gave his cosmos a low burn to cool himself off.

"What are you doing! You're still not done sweeping that floor?"

Camus was about to turn his head before he felt a hand slap him in the back of his head. After his training, such a strike was no more potent than running into a fly. But it did catch him off guard, throwing his head to prevent his balance from giving and falling face forward to the floor. Suddenly, a wooden broom handle smacked the back of his hand before being tossed in front of him. It was clear what his position was in this place. He tucked his exposed strands of hair and tugged his hood tighter before standing up and performing the task at hand without so much a word. Once her footsteps faded and the door closed, he relaxed a bit. He stared at the broom. This was definitely not what he expected when he was told to protect the queen. Then again, The First Aquarius' origins were lost in time. Who knows what to expect here.

"It seems like it is never enough to please her no matter what you do."

Her voice was very prim, words enunciated so casually he was sure if she was giving him a speech. But that nordic accent and the furniture of this place solidified he was in Asgard. Camus twisted his head and pulled back the side of his hood. Blue shades with golden embroidery flowers along the hem indicated she was royalty and youthful. But yet, her face was thick with make-up to mimic a porcelain-perfect look. Her hair seemed soft and curly, but why was it so short? They say that women of the upper class would grow it so long that the coffin must be built an extra half meter long to accommodate it when they die. "No, it doesn't."

She tilted her head and clutched her hands together. "Is everything alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem so quiet. I've never seen you act so silent with Ulla."

Oh Goddess, a minute in, he forgot how goofy the First Aquarius was. He tried to think of something witty to say before relaxing his face, reproducing one of Milo's slick expressions. "She thought she struck a gigantic mouse. Who am I to disappoint her?" He was surprised when a small polite smile formed.

"No, you don't," she spoke ever so softly.

The moment her hands shifted, Camus could see a royal ring on her finger. No doubt this was the queen that the First spoke about. Question is, he was told to protect her, so where could this threat be? He looked at his hand and noticed a few moles that weren't there before. His fingers reached to his locks and, for the first time, saw they were a much lighter blue and far longer and thicker.

"Are you sure everything is alright?" she asks once more. "You've speaking in your normal voice. You don't seem like yourself!"

Camus clutched his broom. "Just a bit preoccupied." He stared at her large concerned eyes, realizing he needed to throw in a joke. "I'm a vain man and I miss how I sound."

She chuckled a bit before slapping his back. "You're supposed to be a vain woman. I know Ulla has terrible hearing, but you can't risk it." She gestured over to the table. "Come. Forget about the floor. You told me you would teach me."

He watched her move to a table with a set of chairs. At least it seemed the two share a relationship with how she treats him. He had no clue but felt it was best he played his role carefully, whether it be a friend, advisor, family, or lover. As he walked, the furs were dreadfully heavy, as if he was going to roll up every object he passed by. Itchy too. Camus turned toward a box and opened it up to see a large set of playing cards. His eyes widened. Rather than mass-produced printed ink on silk cardstock, each was hand-drawn and painted individually. Instead of the familiar bearded kings and ladies with French hoods, these were customized with the court of Asgard featured on the face cards like the Priestesses and even the Asgardian Warriors themselves. For Historians, such cards were rarer than dinosaur bones, but here he had a complete set in his hands. Not only that, but he has no idea what game she was talking about, and chances are, it was something where the rules of the game were lost in time. "If you don't mind, could I just look through them?"

"You don't need to ask, Hushjelp."

For a moment, Camus thought that was the First Aquarius' name until he realized it was simply Norwegian for 'maid', and she was politely asking him to keep playing his role. "Thank you, I find them fascinating," he said, voice an octave higher than usual. At least Milo wasn't here to watch him do this.

"I can tell. As long as both of us are not miserable, that's all that matters."

His shaded eyes shifted to one of the cards. In the set, the King of diamond's face blackened with thick ink as if his face was censored and not a mere accident.

Camus turned his head up to hers, examining her features, eyes always looking out in the distance, head tilted downwards as if by habit to not use any strength to raise her head up. It was a look that he recognized…

…one that Hyoga would often show at home.

…one he had when he got his best friend's sister killed in an avalanche and hid.

He usually would tell Hyoga just to suck it up. It worked for him, or at least he believed it had. Yet, he couldn't bring it upon himself to say it since it seemed like he was her only friend. There was no time for sadness in war.

It worked before, back during his memory of the last time he saw Hyoga.

O|=========================|O

ONE WEEK AGO

SIBERIAN WASTELAND

The steps of Hyoga had long been covered up by the thick layers of snow falling from above. He had a feeling that his trainee picked this time and night over this fact as if it hid his tracks. That would work with anyone else, but the cosmos needed to stay warm in this temperature, leaving a neon blue trail that stretched from the window that the child slid out of to this place.

Usually, Camus would make his presence known at this point. He may work with ice, but he too, is not a fan of freezing his ass off when it wasn't necessary. But he was curious. A large boulder of quartz was often used as a landmark out here as a crossroads. It was almost as if Hyoga was trying to decide which way to go. One path led to the ship where Hyoga's mother lay, the other to the more populous east coast where ships, tourists, and universities were located.

Would Hyoga disobey him once more and visit his mother's corpse, or would he have the common sense to venture elsewhere?

It was an answer that the Aquarius would not receive.

"I know you're out there, Master," Hyoga called out.

Knowing it was pointless to hide, Camus stood up. "When did you figure it out?"

"Since back at the house. Aiolos told us that Golds are trained to follow the cosmos over what they saw, so he showed us how to detect any new cosmos that overlapped our trails behind us for long periods."

Camus swallowed hard. Of course, Aiolos would teach them that. The betrayed man had imparted a lesson to avoid being stabbed in the back. But he was the master, and he wouldn't allow this child to call the shots. "Why are you here in the middle of the night, Hyoga?" He confronted the boy as he lightspeed right next to him.

Hyoga turned his head downwards before reaching into a pouch and pulled out the Harry Potter book from the Frogs of Aristophanes Collection. "I wanted the next book."

Camus turned toward it. "You finished it?"

"Twice."

"If you wanted the next, a simple word and not sneaking out would suffice," Camus chastised.

"I wanted…my own copy; I also didn't want to wait a few months for you to come back."

Camus turned downwards. Hyoga was so still that the snow that fell on top of them began to pile up on his crown. There was a chance that this was a lie, and Hyoga brought the book as a perfect excuse to avoid getting in trouble. He could accuse him of being a liar and state he had no proof. Trainees were clever like that.

Then again. He wanted a chance to build up their non-existent relationship. Perhaps the Pope was correct in his intuition of trying to find a hobby to build a connection with. "You were heading to the Port?" Camus watched Hyoga nod his head up and down. "Don't. They tend to jack up the price quite a bit there. You don't even need to buy new. Harry Potter is so popular that you'll have no problem finding a used copy. I know a place; follow me."

O|=========================|O

TRIAL OF AQUARIUS

PRESENT

"Interesting association. She too had a difficult life, just like Hyoga did as well as you before."

Camus raised his head up, hearing the familiar voice of the First Aquarius. "Why am I here?" He thought. "I've spent my life training for battle, and you have dressed in pelts, ready to play cards?"

"Why are you complaining about that? If I had a choice between fighting some large creature versus playing cards with a lovely lady, I would personally pick the latter. It's a bit less dangerous and could be fun."

"And this would make me worthy?"

"Well, technically, you keeping her safe would make you worthy, but yes, it goes along with the job. Besides, I'm trying to help you. I can tell you wanted the secret as to why I can perform absolute zero easily; well, here it is!"

The First was driving him mad. "This is it? By being friendly?" thought Camus as his eyes focused on the cards to keep the queen from sensing anything wrong.

"Exactly…because the House of Aquarius is the House of Friendship in Astrology. Yet you don't want that role as if you were some harbinger of doom to all you encounter. You can be intelligent all you want, but that's one part of the brain, the most important organ to mastering your cosmos. There's an emotion too, and that aspect doesn't grow because of the knowledge you acquire but rather the bonds you craft from meeting others. It's like trying to craft a boat in the sea… you can create the hull to keep you floating, but you're never going to go anywhere if you aren't thinking of the sail. You keep asking yourself why you are always a few micro degrees short of Absolute Zero… there's your answer."

"Hushjelp? Are you alright? Are you sure everything is okay?" the queen asked.

Camus rubbed the dumbfounded expression from his face, not wanting to admit the long speech he had just received from the First Aquarius. He was surprised at how insightful he was but also at how much his words stung. He was an Aquarius Gold Saint…and he can't reach Absolute Zero for Aurora Execution, a move that he's supposed to impart to his future successors.

He looked down at the cards. It wasn't like he was truly back in time, and any action he performed wasn't going to affect the future. Who cares if the game wasn't going to be invented until a few centuries later. "Whatever game I was going to show you, I have a better one. Have you ever tried Belote?"

Camus, maintaining the feminine voice, began to walk her through the rules, adjusting with the cards in his hand. She was quite a quick learner and surprisingly savvy with her tricks and combinations in the game. While he wasn't sure why she seemed so sad, he did feel better watching her brighten up from the game.

"Why didn't you show me this game earlier?" the queen chuckled as she held her cards.

"You like?"

"I do!"

Camus nodded, turning back at his cards. This was one of the games he would teach Surt's sister, Sinmore before she was killed. Considering the First Aquarius is more intelligent than he interpreted, he doubts this was a coincidence. But rather than become frustrated, he produced a rare smile.

Suddenly, he felt something. Bursts of cosmos…that felt like it was coming from beneath him? The grasp on his cards tightened a bit. He was supposed to protect the queen… of course, something was going to happen. "Is there a hidden bunker here?" he asked.

"What are you talking about? Is something happening?" she gasped.

Camus nodded. The walls were incredibly thick, making it difficult to read the cosmos around past the barriers. Yet oddly enough, no royal guard has run into here. Either the intruder was moving quickly, or someone was working with an assassin and preventing any backup from coming. He knew since Milo talked about how typically that was how he and his family would successfully perform assassinations if someone was betraying from within. "Someone's here!"

He wanted her to get out of there, yet the only thing that moved was a hand rising in front of her lips. "Go, hide!" he rasped, flinging his hand out, satisfied when she finally stood up and walked over toward a wall, shifted a painting around and pressed a stone, causing it to slide open.

With the queen gone, the first thing he did was straighten up the card pile to avoid giving the impression of a quick retreat. He wanted this place to appear as normal as possible.

He grabbed his broom and focused on his cosmos. Something was heading toward here and reasonably quickly too. As weird as this had all started, at least it was now beginning to feel like an actual test. All he had to do was take them out, and he will finally be able to purify his Cloth and go back to the House of Scorpio and make amends with Milo.

Camus pulled his hood closer to his face and burned his cosmos from within, prepping it for whoever was out there while trying to appear as if he was a humble servant. He cautiously slides the door open.

"Camus?"

The Aquarius paused, clutching his broom. "Who's there? How did you know my name?" There was no possible way he and the First Aquarius shared the same name. He wasn't sure if the First Aquarius was around when the French language was invented.

He turned toward the intruder, his body covered in a large black cape, heavily curled violet curls shading his cold blue eyes. He was ready to fire a burst of ice cosmos to freeze him for the next five hundred years when he spotted a familiar red scarlet color from his right hand. "Scorpio?" he muttered, eyes shifting back and forth.

"Camus, it's me, Milo!"

Now the Aquarius was really confused as he heard the gravelly voice as crushing as the depths of hell. Not only that, but the Scorpio lineage was all related, and half of them were named Milo. He shifted his eyes toward the mirror and flinched at their reflections. While Milo may have the same features as his ancestor, it was clear that it was him since he had memorized every mole and feature. "It is you!" he spoke, staring at his own body replaced with the gentle expression of the First Aquarius.

"Keep your voice down!" Milo gently snapped before he slapped his own face as if realizing he had other means of communication. He touched his temples and began to use his cosmos. "Why are you here? For your trial?"

Camus silently nodded, fingers tightening around the broom handle. They were for questions, and now they were a part of an answer they didn't think to ask. It didn't help that whenever Milo spoke, he sounded like someone who had spent the last ten years as a brooding shut-in. But despite the Scorpio's appearance, Milo's habits remained, including the one where if he was debating something in his head, he tended to take his thumb and rub the knuckle where a scarlet needle was protruding from. "What is it? What are you thinking about?"

Milo bit his lip before taking a deep breath, feeling ashamed of even contemplating it in his head. He doesn't care if the First Scorpio told him he had to eliminate any low-profile witnesses. Camus was his friend, and if he risked failing the trial and being stuck cursed forever, so be it. "A moment…" Milo whispered before he raised his red nail toward the bed.

"Wait!" Camus' pulsed his cosmos halting him. There was only one reason why Milo made his way to the royal chambers. "I have to protect the queen."

Milo shrugged, partially in relief, before raising his finger back up, cosmos burning around the tip. "Don't worry. I'm just here for the king." He stopped when Camus flashed right in between. "What are you doing!?" Milo quietly chided, a bit of a growl in his tone. "I have no intentions of hurting her," he whispered, his cosmos focused on holding back his signature attack.

"I…" for a moment, Camus wasn't sure why he was doing this. But he searched his heart and realized why… for it was the same reason he always hesitated in sinking Hyoga's mother's ship. "That's her husband…I don't want to hurt her like I did with Surt," he whispered.

"Don't worry, you won't hurt me. I invited him."

The Aquarius felt a hand pressing on his shoulder before turning to the young woman behind him.

Milo gasped. "You left a flaw in the wall?"

"I prefer to say I wasn't very timely when it came to having it repaired."

"But he is your husband?" questioned Camus.

"He was the husband Poseidon chose for me after killing my love. He needed Asgard… and it was easier to keep the status quo where I don't rule but must keep up my other royal duties."

Camus watched her bottom lip tremble, the whites of her eyes shaded pink. She was scared.

Was she scared of her memories?

Or what would happen after?

It doesn't matter.

Camus pulled his hood off and turned to his friend. "Do it."

Milo didn't hesitate when he raised his hand and performed his technique on the bed, a burst of red-stained feathers puffing out of the pillows and mattress. There was no scream, a good sign he delivered the killing blow since any moaning afterward would mean he was off target. He marched to the stained sheets and pulled the cover to find not the body of a slain king but the golden dagger. The moment he picked it up, the wooden exterior and engravings vanished, leaving endless white. He turned his head to see a pair in the distance walking toward them before he and Camus ran up to them, clutching the dagger in his hand. "Was that…both of our tests?" he asked as he came to them.

"Sure was!" the First Aquarius laughed. "Were you surprised?"

Milo stood a bit stunned. "Actually, I was…" he blinked a few times, throwing off his brown hood. "I suspected something when I noticed my father acting strange. The other Scorpios were in it too."

The First Scorpio nodded diligently. "Correct."

Milo gave a toothy grin. He should have known better. "You were probably communicating with the First Aquarius to ensure that we both reached the destination simultaneously. A test, a prank, while still a reunion… that could perfectly be crafted by only the First Scorpio."

The First Scorpio pointed his red nail over to the First Aquarius. "It was his idea."

"What!?" Milo gasped.

A sly mischievous smile stretched across the First Aquarius. "Had a few setbacks since I didn't expect my Successor to come over cursed. Luckily Ecarlate was available to distract. I hope you enjoyed a stroll through 18th century France," he laughed as he took his knuckles and slapped the back of Camus' back. "Red nail wanted to do a traditional one-on-one duel. I told him it seemed a bit boring, like trying to take a pair of magnets of the same polarity and attempting to smash them together. I did get him to change his mind, even if it took a few hundred years." He laughed before placing an arm over his comrade's shoulder and producing a playful peck on top of the frowning First Scorpio's headpiece.

Milo's jaw dropped. "Forgive me, but Scorpios are known to be-"

The First Scorpio rolled his eyes. "-playful jokesters with a carnal appetite? Pamphilos here fooled everyone, including the scribes who tell our tales." A gaze of annoyance softened over his eternally brooding face. "The work of an assassin is hard. It's not easy risking one's life and being the last face a person sees. My days were dark, and only one who represents The House of Friendship provided the light I needed." His stoic eyes twinkled a bit. "Thank you for being a good friend…even if you've fucked up my entire lineage for centuries."

The First Aquarius clicked his tongue. "Oh, don't play that… admit it… you would sit in that chair for hours in the Collective being entertained by all your grandchildren's pranks." He turned to the two living. "Believe me, he's more alive now than before he was dead."

The First Scorpio lowered his head, not willing to deny the joy he was given from watching so many grow up over the years, tormenting anyone both unfortunate or blessed to be a caretaker at his House. "I will miss it." He reached over and produced a brotherly hug with the First Aquarius before coming to his ear and whispering something that caused a smile before the two gave a final tender kiss. The two held each other for a minute before they parted. "Come Milo, let's go and take care of this. I've received word that Ares was being tended to by Ophiuchus Asclepius. That should be the window you need to get back to the World of the Living and let the others know of your findings." he spoke as he guided him toward a door.

Camus watched the two exit before turning toward the First Aquarius and following him toward the door, and returning back to the main cold area of the Collective of Aquarius. "If you don't mind… why was that my test? It sounded like Milo had to navigate around without getting caught. All I did was play cards, nothing worthy of my Cloth!"

The First Aquarius turned his head? "As long as my test is deemed fair, it's my test and rules. Besides, this is the House of Friendship. You knew that the Queen was not real, but unlike Milo, you still treated her as such. Besides, if we were in a duel, you would lose."

"Of course, I would. Your Cloth is higher quality than mine."

The First Aquarius waved a hand. "The Cloth doesn't matter. You can be butt-naked and still accomplish Absolute Zero. It's not the metal, it's the mind… and right now, your hippocampus isn't looking so hot, all because you can't let go of the guilt from that accident."

Camus jerked his head. He was surprised that someone who lived around the age before modern plumbing knew anything about the medical terms for the brain. But then again, he most likely picked up quite a bit, with most of his successors being scholars. "It wasn't just an accident. I killed Surt's sister… Sinmore is dead because of me!"

"I know. I've watched you visit her grave with him every year. I've watched him force you to recite your promise while he detailed how much he missed her every chance he got. You take the guilt and the blame, yet he refuses to share any of it. Surt knew your training schedule, and he and everyone else knew you still didn't have complete control of your cosmos."

"It's still all my fault!"

"Sounds like you're no different than Hyoga and his mother… and if that's the case, neither of you will reach those final degrees to hit Absolute Zero."

Camus' head lowered solemnly. Was this the reason he's always been so hard on Hyoga? Because he reminded him of himself? "Hyoga didn't take a life."

"And you didn't mean to take hers. It was and always will be… an accident. In most countries… The penalty for involuntary manslaughter is one to six years, yet Surt still chains your guilt to your life for the past decade. Don't forget, Surt's not on the same side as you, and he is the type to play the long game. You aren't his friend Camus…you are just a favor at this point. Don't be an idiot and choose him over Milo when that time comes. Goodbye Camus. Thank you for letting me see the Queen one last time… and making her smile."

Suddenly, Camus felt his Cloth warm up and brighten, a turquoise glow converting it, the metal shifting with embossed patterns emerging from the once smooth metallic surface. He turned around, watching the First Aquarius growing translucent as his cosmos entered his Cloth. "Wait…" he turned his head. "What about the other past Aquarius Saints."

The First Aquarius chuckled. "I already said my goodbyes to them… when that happened… I told you if you bring them over, it would be like a funeral…" he spoke as the last of his cosmos vanished.

Camus turned toward his new Cloth. The gold shimmered as bright as the sun. He felt so much more robust, but he didn't feel as joyful as he thought. As brief as his meeting was with the First Aquarius… if it weren't because the curse had to end, he would've liked to hang out with him longer.

Suddenly, a drop of water fell into his palm.

Then two.

Then six.

Camus turned toward the ceiling, the ice melting all over the place. Was it because the First Aquarius could not maintain it?

No. It wasn't that.

He could feel multiple cosmos all around him burning their cosmos. The past Aquarius Saints were all around him…even if he couldn't see them, and they were mourning the loss and had turned the House of Ice into a House of Rain.

O|==============|O

COLLECTIVE OF SCORPIO

"Sorry for deceiving you earlier, but we only did so when the First assured you wouldn't be harmed," Fem-Milo spoke as she approached the living Scorpio as he and the First exited the doorway.

Milo waved his hand. "You don't have to apologize. Nobody died…and it was… kind of fun. Now I can officially brag to everyone else that I broke into the Asgardian Castle."

"That is quite a feat. The Asgardians are so secretive in their inner chambers that everyone will be fighting to invite you first when you return," Kardia commented.

But Milo clicked his tongue. "Au contraire, it will be them fighting over who will be the first to see my new Cloth when we return to the World of the Living. I'm thinking about keeping the group limited."

"How limited?" asked Kardia.

"Just the patio area."

"No more than about ten people…Goddess, I can't wait to see what the nobles will give just to make it on the invite list," grinned Fem-Milo. "What about you and Camus?"

Milo didn't even hesitate. "He'll most likely decline since it is not his thing, but even after what happened, I forgive him, and he'll be the first to receive an invite." He turned to the side, watching his father approach. "Don't worry, Dad. I forgive you for your deceit earlier."

"How sweet… As soon as you apologize for the thousands of times you weaseled your way out of training, we can finally call ourselves even," Paris retorted, raising a cocky brow while watching Milo frown with the others laughing. After he finished his fatherly duty of embarrassing him in front of his peers, he came over and put an arm around him, his son reciprocated back. After all this, maybe the last time he sees him… hopefully for a long time.

"Would I be able to bring Ivan with me?"

Milo turned his head to see Camus heading over. He smiled and approached. "Don't want to have the Crystal Saint babysit your students?"

"He's done that more than enough times and… I think he will have a good time. He deserves to travel outside of Siberia beyond doing a mission," Camus spoke as he took his hand, moved a few wet locks of hair, and tucked them behind his ear.

Milo raised a brow. Camus was giving one of his own a day off? How curious! "If I leave out the brothel workers, could Issak and Hyoga come?"

Camus shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Milo grinned and shook his head in disbelief. He's been trying to get Camus to come to his parties for years. He slowly walked over to his friend. "By the Goddess, what did the First Aquarius say to-" the Scorpio smacked into what felt like an invisible wall before a loud thud and clank followed.

"Ecarlate! Are you alright?" gasped Kardia as he and the others began to kneel down, their hands searching the ground before Fem-Milo reached down, her hands practically pantomiming as if helping a body up.

"I'm fine… it's hard to have a headache when I'm already dead," Ecarlate laughed before standing up.

Camus walked over and offered a hand to Milo. "Thank you… I heard you say you forgive me. Thank you for being understanding."

Milo wiped the slight bit of blood on his busted lip and gazed at his love. Something changed, and it wasn't the new Aquarius armor. He seemed a bit at ease… not a lot, but it was better than the block of ice he had to deal with for the last ten years. He wasn't sure what happened, but in honesty, it didn't matter. "I'll forgive you… in the World of the Living." He spoke through his cosmos, his hand grabbing his. As he stood up, he flashed a quick mischievous grin. To his surprise, Camus mirrored it back… in front of people.

The Aquarius held his lover's hand as if its warmth mirrored a star. But then he stared at the Cloth and at the cursed red hint in Milo's eyes. He wasn't sure how, but he could tell it was the same one he came in. "You haven't purified yet?"

Milo nodded before he pointed over. "He wanted to say goodbye to his family…but…."

Camus turned as dozens of Milo look-alikes were sobbing around the First Scorpio, all taking turns hugging and kissing his face. That was one question that they were unable to figure out: What happens to the First Saints after they purify? Do they go somewhere else, or do they become nothing?

The Aquarius turned to see the other Scorpio's faces… each appearing as if they had run out of tears.

Milo could see Camus' concern. "They said they will make sure there is time for us to return to the doorway in time."

Camus nodded. "I figured they would. But if they want to say goodbye… let them."

O|====================|O

POPE'S CHAMBERS- WORLD OF THE LIVING

Aiolos stared at the chessboard before he lifted up his black knight and placed him along the path of his black bishop for protection. "Check," he spoke before bringing his freshly bathed hand to his face and grinning. "You know… just because I'm stuck as black for a while doesn't mean you should be lenient on me?"

Saga groaned and shook his head in disbelief at missing such an obvious trap. "I'm not," he spoke, his eyes trying to figure out how to move out of the trap without losing his queen. "Unfortunately, when I was the Pope, nobody would allow me to lose, incorporating the strategy I would describe as The Suicide King and dulling my own skills." He sighed as he was forced to move his lady of war to take the knight, eyes as Aiolos made his final winning move. He knew that would happen, but he'd be damned if he surrendered his King's life and lost…

If only games could mirror life.

Saga's hand smashed onto the board as the world grew dark. "AGGHH!" his eyes flashed red. Aiolos pulled him over as he watched the Gemini twist in agony, hair alternating between light and dark before jumping away into Another Dimension, leaving the tear in fabric and space sparkling in the air.

Aiolos stood mouth agape before crinkled paper spat out of the tear. He pulled it out. "Need time…No-control…" he read out loud.

He sat there in silence, his head occasionally darting toward the horrific screams in what he believes to be a pocket dimension that his friend…and now secret lover once more had crafted to endure the pain of when the curse first takes hold of someone.

While it was a good sign that Milo and Camus had succeeded, if Saga was acting like this now, it made him wonder if the Gemini was capable of handling the purification of everyone.

O|=========================================|O

Author's Notes: I know it's been a long time. The truth was that I had this part mostly finished back in January, but I went through a bit of soul searching. Each of these chapters takes weeks of time to write and plan. Part of the joy of writing fanfiction is for an audience, but if there is no audience, there isn't any point.