"You came to kill the devil, right?" He Who Remains chuckled and jump in front of Loki and Sylvie.
"Well, guess what? I keep you safe. And if you think I am evil? Well, just wait...till you meet my...variants." he said with fear clearly heard in his voice, causing Sylvie and Loki to look at each other.
"And...that's the gambit!" he exclaimed. "Stifling order or cataclysmic chaos." he chuckled. "You may hate the dictator, but something..." he exhaled deeply "far worse is gonna fill that void if you depose of him."
He Who Remains (or Immortus, as some called him) laid his hands on the table again and smiled. "I've lived a million lifetimes. I've gone through every scenario, this is the only way. The TVA...it works."
"Or..." Sylvie raised her finger at him. "you're a liar."
He Who Remains just stared amused at her. "Or I am a liar."
Loki had enough of it. "So you just...continue to prune innocent timelines."
"Mmm-mmm." He Who Remains responded. "You two would." He pointed at them.
The One Power surged through him, a torrent greater than he could believe, from saidin into the sword. The crystal blade shone brighter than even Moiraine's fire had. It was impossible to look at, impossible any longer to see that it was a sword, only that light blazed in his fist. He fought the flow, wrestled with the implacable tide that threatened to carry him, all that was really him, into the sword with it.
For a heartbeat that took centuries he hung, wavering, balanced on the brink of being scoured away like sand before a flash flood. With infinite slowness the balance firmed. It was still as though he stood barefoot on a razor's edge above a bottomless drop, yet something told him this was the best that could be expected. To channel this much of the Power, he must dance on that sharpness as he had danced the forms of the sword.
He turned to face Ba'alzamon.
"There's two options! One!" He Who Remains started talking...unhinged, to put it lightly.
"You kill me and destroy all this and you don't have just one devil, you have an infinite amount. Or..." he pointed at them again. "You two, you two run the thing."
"You're lying." Loki said bluntly, catching Immortus' attention. "Why would you give up being in control."
Immortus paused, remembering all his lives. Memories appeared in his mind. Even some that were, technically, not his own.
"Buddy," he said lightly and played with his garments. "I am tired. And...I am old. I am older than I look. This game is for the young, the hungry. I have gone through a lot of scenarios, trying to find the right person to take this spot. It turns out that person came in two." then he exhaled, with hope in his voice. "But it's definitely...you two."
"So, no more lies." he added. "You kill me and the Sacred Timeline is completely exposed. Multiversal War. Or you take over and return to the TVA as its benevolent rulers. Tell the workforce who they are and why they do what they do."
The tearing within him had ceased as soon as his hand touched Callandor. Only an instant had passed, yet it seemed to have lasted forever.
"You will not take my soul," he shouted. "This time, I mean to finish it once and for all! I mean to finish it now!"
Ba'alzamon fled, man and shadow vanishing.
For a moment Rand stared, frowning. There had been a sense of - folding - as Ba'alzamon left. A twisting, as if Ba'alzamon had in some way bent what was. Ignoring the men staring at him, ignoring Moiraine crumpled at the column base, Rand reached out, through Callandor, and twisted reality to make a door to somewhere else. He did not know to where, except that it was where Ba'alzamon had gone.
"I am the hunter now," he said, and stepped through.
"You treated real people's lives as if it were some kind of game." Sylvie spoke with a calm voice, but with clear anger.
"It's nor personal," He Who Remains defended himself. "it's practical."
"It was personal to me."
Suddenly, he groaned loudly. "Grow up! Grow up Sylvie! Murderer! Hypocrite!"
He could not even begin to imagine what it was that he did. The One Power raged inside him till he barely knew himself, till he barely was himself, till what was himself almost did not exist. His precarious stability teetered. To either side lay the endless fall, obliteration by the Power that coursed through him into the sword. Only in the dance along the razor's sharp edge was there even an uncertain safety. Callandor shone in his fist until it seemed he carried the sun. Dimly within him, fluttering like a candle flame in a storm, was the surety that holding Callandor, he could do anything.
Anything.
Sylvie tried to keep herself from anger.
"We're all villains here." He Who Remains chuckled. His chuckle was that of a man who laughed at his own cruel fate. "We've all done horrible, terrible, horrific things. But now, we, you... have a chance to do them for a good reason."
Then, something else caught his attention. He felt something. From the Void.
From that world.
"I will not be undone!" Ba'alzamon cried. His mouth was fire; his shriek echoed among the columns. "I cannot be defeated! Aid me!" Some of the darkness shrouding him drifted into his hands, formed into a ball so black it seemed to soak up even the light of Callandor. Sudden triumph blazed in the flames of his eyes.
"You are destroyed!" Rand shouted. Callandor spun in his hands. Its light roiled the darkness, severed the steelblack lines around Ba'alzamon, and Ba'alzamon convulsed. As if there were two of him he seemed to dwindle and grow larger at the same time. "You are undone!" Rand plunged the shining blade into Ba'alzamon's chest.
Ba'alzamon screamed, and the fires of his face flared wildly. "Fool!" he howled. "The Great Lord of the Dark can never be defeated!"
Rand pulled Callandor's blade free as Ba'alzamon's body sagged and began to fall, the shadow around him vanishing.
He Who Remains knew what happened. He felt it. Slowly, he placed his hand on his chest. He could feel the blade inside it...but it wasn't there.
I have done it, he thought. I have killed Ba'alzamon, killed Shai'tan! I have won the Last Battle! Light, I AM the Dragon Reborn! The breaker of nations, the Breaker of the World. No! I will END the breaking, end the killing! I will MAKE it end!
He heard him say that speech many, many times before. More than even he, with his vast knowledge, could count. But something was different this time.
One, he could feel the timelines starting to branch. He could feel the imbalance. He knew what was coming.
And second; he never felt the pain from the blade in his chest before.
He raised Callandor above his head. Silver lightning crackled from the blade, jagged streaks arching toward the great dome above. "Stop!" he shouted. The fighting ceased; men stared at him in wonder, over black veils, from beneath the rims of round helmets.
"I am Rand al'Thor!" he called, so his voice rang through the chamber. "I am the Dragon Reborn!" Callandor shone in his grasp.
One by one, veiled men and helmeted, they knelt to him, crying, "The Dragon is Reborn! The Dragon is Reborn!"
All sounds ceased in Immortus' ear. Only the sound of those cries.
And another voice. A voice he had hoped he will never hear again.
INDEED. HE IS.
"We just crossed...the threshold." He said, without any emotion.
Then, he chuckled.
"Oh." he said, as if he was surprised. "So, I fibbed. I fibbed earlier when I said I know how everything's going to go. I..." he chuckled again. "I know... I knew...everything up to a certain point, and that point was about... seven, eight, nine, ten seconds ago. But now I have no idea." He said with terror. "No idea how the rest of this is going to go."
YOU KNOW EXACTLY HOW IT IS GOING TO GO.
The voice exploded in his head. He heard it again. He was free from it for so long...but now he heard it again.
YOU HAVE FAILED. YOU COULD HAVE NEVER KEPT ME AWAY. NOT FOREVER.
I tried, he thought. But to him that was the same as answering with words.
YOU FAILED.
YOU COULD HAVE NEVER STOPPED ME.
NOT FOREVER.
Note: All sections including Rand al'Thor's character are pieces of writing from Chapter 55 of "The Dragon Reborn" by Robert Jordan. All rights to their respectice owners.
Only He Who Remains section is mine (and even that is based on scripted dialogue).
