"Why are we going with them, Chrom?"

Chrom looked down to his cup of coffee as he thought of a way to help Ophelia understand his decisions. The two had made small talk while the other Arch Surg officers were present, but Ophelia began asking Chrom more serious questions about his actions after Farber and Pheros left. Cervantes was still present, but he occupied himself with paperwork and didn't seem to care about his guests. Something about Cervantes made him seem less threatening than the others. Perhaps it was the way he ran his finger almost cartoonishly through his now chest length beard, or perhaps it was because said beard still had particulate matter from his lunch in it. Still, Chrom didn't allow himself to be too calm around Cervantes. He was over seventy years old and still capable of lugging around a set of plate armor after all.

Bringing his eyes back to Ophelia, Chrom tried to give a soft tone. "I know you have no reason to trust them, Ophelia, but I just think this is the best course going forwards."

"Why?!"

"Pheros and the others are treating us with respect. As equals."

"They tortured you!" Ophelia aggressively ran her fingers down Chrom's right arm, as if she thought he might have forgotten. "Pheros cut a scar through your emblazoning of divine right!"

"I know that, but things have changed. We all have to work together against the Grimleal. Pheros said that herself."

"So you want to fight with their army?!"

"No… maybe. I don't know. What I want is to meet their leader, and these four will take us there personally."

Ophelia's gaze fell to Chrom's chest as she sighed. "Chrom… Tiki always said you had a trusting nature, but maybe that's not a strength. Those four are not good people just because they helped us against the Deadlords. Trusting Gangrel and Aversa didn't work."

"I'm not being naive here, Ophelia. The Arch Surg is trying to capture me. Archangel demands that I be taken to her. If we leave Pheros and the others, they'll send madmen like Keith. This is the safest way."

Ophelia shook her head. "Chrom, that's extortion! They're just capturing you in another way. You think you can't fight them?"

"I don't want to fight anyone! I don't want to live on the run from these people! Ophelia, the last time we went anywhere on our own volition was when we tried to find Caeldori. Since then we've been driven around by the Grimleal or the Arch Surg. We don't have a home, and we've lost so many of our allies by living like this. Tiki. Cordelia. Donnel. Henry." Chrom's voice choked up. "Maybe Soleil and Caeldori. We… we have to try and change things. Maybe being with this army can be the start of something." Chrom knew his next point was largely personal, and he took a sip of his coffee as he thought about how to phrase it. Coffee was the only thing the safehouse kitchen had that wasn't alcoholic, and Chrom didn't trust himself around that. The first several sips of the foreign drink had been nothing short of disgusting, but Chrom found he could improve the flavor by adding quite a bit of cream. "And… I've been told Archangel knows me. I need to see her, Ophelia. I need to see for myself, and I need to know."

"You… think she might be a Shepherd?"

"I… that can't be right. She's supposed to be the leader of the Archanean Liberation Front, but I don't believe any of the Shepherds could have built all this. Could be responsible for all this violence. For all this brutality."

Ophelia thought about it. "Well I never knew the Shepherds but… did you think Henry would have willingly created a curse to mentally torture soldiers into submission? Did you think Gaius would ever be an assassin? Did you think Donnel would ever threaten your life?"

"... no."

"Things change. Thirty years is a long time, and those years haven't been good to humanity. You almost broke, Chrom. Maybe some of them did."

Chrom had been denying the possibility, but Ophelia's words about the Shepherds made sense to him, and it only made him more determined. "I'm sorry, Ophelia, but that only makes me want to see Archangel more. Maybe a Shepherd is responsible for all of the Arch Surg's atrocities, but maybe they haven't broken yet. Maybe they can be saved, and maybe this army can truly stand for humanity." Ophelia's eyes lit up as Chrom spoke of leadership, but her excitement faded as he hung his head. "What am I saying? I can't save anyone."

"Chrom, stop!"

Chrom didn't share Ophelia's belief that his guilt was undeserved, but he steeled himself regardless. "Let's talk about something else."

Ophelia gave Cervantes a side glance. "You've met these four before right?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about them. Who are these foul cretins?"

Chrom looked over to the nearest Arch Surg officer in question. "That man, Cervantes, was one of Emperor Walhart's highest ranking generals. I'm not surprised he survived our last encounter, actually. He survived fighting us before."

"What's with his beard?"

"He thinks it makes him invincible. It was much shorter thirty years ago, and even then it was ridiculous." Cervantes gave a thumbs up to the two without looking up, showing that he was at least partially listening to them.

"What about the other two men? What were their names?"

"Farber and Algol. Farber was another one of Walhart's generals. The Shepherds encountered him when we first came to Valm. He was trying to kill Princess Say'ri, but we stopped him. Apparently he survived. He struck me as a very serious man, but I don't know much about him. Algol was a Grimleal cultist under Validar. He ambushed us when we were leaving Castle Plegia, and he escaped before we could kill him. We encountered him later in the Outrealms. He'd created an army of Risen, and he was killing people to then turn them into Risen. We stopped him there, but I guess he survived. Actually… that might have been a different Algol. You never know with the Outrealms."

"He was part of the original Grimleal?"

"I think he mentioned the new Grimleal kicking him out. Maybe he's trying to get back at them?"

"Then there's Pheros. Let me guess. One of Walhart's?"

"Yes. We fought at Fort Steiger. I remember her. She said that she once went on a pilgrimage to hear Emmeryn speak. I remember realizing how dedicated Walhart's generals truly were when I fought her. This woman believed so strongly in his cause that she became a soldier. She used to be a priestess of Naga, and yet she spoke of killing anyone who stood in Walhart's path. Of course… I killed everyone in my path."

Ophelia squinted at Chrom. "What's with you and her?"

"Huh?"

"Even in this conversation you keep saying 'Pheros and the others'. You talk about her like you really know her. She's getting inside your head. Making you think she's your friend! She's just following orders, Chrom, and she doesn't have your interests in mind."

Chrom really thought about Ophelia's words. He truly had developed quite a bit of trust in Pheros, and maybe that wasn't for the best. At the same time he remembered opening up to her and talking about his hallucinations. Pheros didn't have to ask, and she didn't have to listen, but she truly did. Chrom was going to tell Ophelia this, but he wasn't sure how to tell her about his visions. Would that ruin her idolization of him? Was that for the better? "I'm… I am keeping an eye on them, Ophelia. I won't let my guard down."

"What if it's too late?"

Chrom tried to give a smile. "Then it's a good thing I have the fated heroine by my side to protect me."

"It's Chosen Heroine… and that's not funny." Ophelia's voice became soft. "I'm just worried."

"We'll be fine."

"Stop saying that! You know what I think? I think you're so plagued by guilt that your mind has become clouded, and now you're in a cycle. You're so used to hating yourself, and when people like Cordelia and I try to show that we love you… you just can't accept it. You want to see Archangel because you know she's probably someone you've wronged, and you want to face yet more guilt because… because you don't know anything else now. You feel like you're not a hero. Like you don't deserve the love the Shepherds always gave you. You want to face more guilt because it's easier for you to accept, and Pheros is filling your head with words that smell of honey but sting of venom. She wants you to feel closer to her, so that it doesn't seem like she's forcing you to go. At the end of the day, she's trying to take you to Archangel same as Keith, but you don't care. You want to see her, because you want to face guilt again. You're afraid of overcoming your guilt, because you're afraid of letting people care about you again. Look up to you again. You're afraid you'll stop hating yourself, because you don't think you deserve that. Maybe you want to fight the Grimleal in some way, but this belief that the Arch Surg can be the start of something is just… is nothing but a justification. A rationalization of your actions. Maybe you think that you'll become who you were again if you break this cycle of self hating, but there's nothing wrong with that. You were a hero! You can be one again, and we don't need them!" Chrom didn't have any response to that, and an awkward silence filled the room for about five minutes. Ophelia seemed increasingly saddened by how her words had affected Chrom, and she eventually couldn't take it anymore. "Chrom, I-I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Don't apologize to me, Ophelia. I deserve your criticisms."

"But I'm not trying to criticize you. I just want you to be safe. I have to look out for my family after all."

The two exchanged warm smiles. Moments like these gave Chrom some semblance of serenity, as they reminded him he really did have something with Ophelia. "Well then I've no reason to fear with you here to protect me."

Ophelia nodded. "We don't have to be with these barbaric churls to do good. This Grimleal city radiates with darkness… and also a lot of salt. Oh, is that why they call it that? Anyways, we of exalted blood must gather our tools of forebears past in order to stave off this vile taint. Behold then, an augury of warriors long gone, with us still in spirit."

"... huh?"

Ophelia paused. "Oh. Was I uh, having one of my moments?"

"Your what?"

"Well Soleil and Caeldori always complained when I allowed my choseness to radiate into my speech. Do you mind?"

Chrom smiled. "No, Ophelia. Say whatever you want to."

Ophelia perked up. "Really, I mean, I mean, of course another exalted lord such as yourself would have the widsom to see the… uh… wisdom in my words. Now then. Behold!" Ophelia took out one of her gems. "The Jetblood Dracocrystal! With this I can read the constellations themselves, and they will show me the location of my mount, bestowed to me by the ally of wyverns!"

"Who?"

"Cherche. I'm trying to find Minerva, and that used to be Cherche's wyvern right?"

"R-right."

"I admit I don't know much about her, but Tiki told us who she was when she gave Soleil and I Minerva." Ophelia concentrated, and she actually started to glow slightly. She put the Jetblood Dracocrystal on the ground and made a circle around her with other gems. "Now I shall rend the information from the heavens themselves through my exalted power! OH! MY ACHING BLOOD!"

Chrom still smiled, though he was a little weirded out. "Um… alright?"

"Relinquish your secrets to me, constellations! DO IT NOW!" Ophelia's eyes glowed gold for a second, and she took a deep breath.

"D-did the stars tell you anything?"

"They said… ask again later. Huh." Ophelia looked at two of her gems. "Maybe I should swap these around."

"What difference would that make?"

"What difference would that make?" Ophelia giggled. "I envy your innocence."

Cervantes stuck his head up. "Cherche? That sounds familiar." He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the woman. "Cherche, Cherche, oh yeah! She served Duke Virion. Walhart put a kill order on her head, he did. Drove her sorry arse from Valm."

Ophelia scowled. "We weren't talking to you."

"Well I can hear you! You know I can just take you to see your wyvern. We have him, her, it stabled here."

"We don't need your help." Ophelia furrowed her brow as she repeated her ritual. Once again her eyes glowed gold. Chrom turned to her.

"Did you find Minerva?"

"... maybe we should have him show us where she is."

Chrom remembered that the Arch Surg had promised to take care of Minerva, and he then recalled what else they had promised. "And Paul. Where is he?!"

"The farmboy? He's in a safehouse."

"This is the safehouse!"

"This is a safehouse. Don't worry about him. He's fine."

"I don't believe you!"

Cervantes sighed. "Fine. We told him you were coming, and he requested that he not see you." Chrom's heart sank as he realized what Cervantes was saying. "He thinks you're responsible for killing his family."

"I… gods."

"Sorry, my boy. I can still take you to your wyvern?"

Chrom turned to Ophelia, and she nodded. "Alright. Let's just… let's just go."

Cervantes lead Ophelia and Chrom through the city until they neared wyvern stables for rent by the edge of the eastern district's commercial area. Cervantes pointed to the stables themselves as the group approached, but Chrom's eye was drawn to something else. "Blue!" Gaius affectionately slapped Chrom on the shoulder as he ran up. "I'm glad I caught you." Gaius' smile faded as he glanced over to Cervantes. "Oh. You brought one of them with you."

"We were going to see Ophelia's wyvern in the stables."

"Oh. Is this a bad time?"

Chrom remembered what Gaius had asked of him. "You want to talk to me in private?"

"Yeah. Ophelia can come if she wants to, but I don't want him to be there."

"I'm standing right here!" Cervantes groaned. Gaius ignored him as he turned to Ophelia.

"Then again… you might want to find something to do for awhile, Blondie. You're not going to like where we're going."

"Why not?"

"Remember how I said I'd find a place like where the Arch Surg are holed up, but with women? It honestly wasn't hard."

Ophelia scowled at him. "Wha?! I thought you were better than that!"

Gaius just laughed. "Anyways, you have something to do? I mean, you could come if you really wanted to."

"No!" Ophelia looked back to the stables. "I did want to see Minerva."

Chrom nodded to Cervantes. "Are you sure you want to be alone with him?"

"I'll be fine."

Chrom smiled to his grandniece, but he shot Cervantes a glare. "If anything happens to her!"

"What do you think I'm going to do? Feed her to them?!"

Chrom watched as the two walked away, and he was a little nervous as he turned back to Gaius. "This place you found… it's at least classy right?"

"Uh… sure. Yeah. Let's go with that."

Gaius either had a different idea of what constituted "classy" than Chrom, or he'd simply been lying. Either way, Chrom felt like he wanted to melt from embarrassment as Gaius lead him around "The Horny Toad". Chrom wasn't sure what Gaius enjoyed more, the entertainment, or Chrom's own embarrassment. He seemed to revel in it as he repeatedly caught the attention of strippers just to send them Chrom's way, and the Exalt's polite refusals became more pitchy and stuttered with every offer of a private show he turned down. Chrom had never indulged in anything like this while growing up in Ylisstol, and he hadn't exactly been pursuing his "needs" in the past thirty years of isolation. Chrom finally had to lose Gaius in the crowd and break his self imposed moratorium on alcohol to calm himself down. He tried his best to sink out of view at a small table towards the back of the establishment, but Gaius eventually found him anyways. "Well hey there, Blue. You almost look you're trying to hide from ol' Gaius."

"Did you bring me here just to embarrass me?"

"I brought you here to have fun!"

"You're harassing me!"

Gaius chuckled. "You got a funny idea of harassing there. I'm just trying to see if any of these working girls can loosen you up a bit, but you have to actually say yes to one. I'll pay for it." Gaius sat down. "But no matter how close they get, don't actually touch them. This isn't that kind of place."

"This isn't my idea of fun!"

Gaius blew air through his lips as he patted his own knees. "Yeesh. You know there's a time where it's awkward being around so many half naked babes with daddy issues, but then you get older and start to think it's a great way to relax. You're a little old to not be there, Blue. Course you've got daddy issues yourself. Remember what you told me about those dreams you were having?"

"That's a little low!"

"Or maybe it's because you grew up in that stuffy palace. Tell me, what was the spiciest thing you ever did with Maribelle? *gasp* Hold hands?!"

"Shut up!"

"Hell, how was little miss tiara ever born if you're this squirmy around women? Was she adopted?"

"Lucina could wield the Falchion. How could she have been adopted?!"

"Maybe she was descended from the First Exalt's forgotten bastard?"

Chrom took a sip from his glass of kumis. He still hated the taste, but at the same time he knew he wouldn't lose control if he was drinking something so disgusting as kumis. "Did you bring me here just to poke fun?"

"You can take jabs at me if you want? Come on! What do you got?"

"Gaius, I'm going to leave if this is how you're going to act."

"Just let that stick fall out of your rear! No wonder you and Cordelia hit it off once you actually started talking."

Chrom glared at Gaius. "Because she was stuck up?! Is that what you're saying?!"

"Yeah, that's uh… that's the joke." Gaius said in the tone people took when they were forced to explain their quips.

"I thought you wanted to talk!"

Gaius became genuinely saddened. "Fine. Look, Blue, I do want to talk, but I wanted you have fun first."

"Why?"

"Because this isn't going to be a fun talk. I… ugh. Maybe I need a drink." Gaius stopped a passing waiter and ordered a drink Chrom didn't recognize.

"You drink?"

"Sweet stuff."

"Alcohol isn't sweet."

"You won't believe the kind of stuff the Grimmie trading companies provide, Blue. They got all kinds of alcohol now! Hell it wouldn't surprise me if in ten years they had chocolate flavored booze or chicken flavored booze. Of course, not everyone agrees with what the Grimleal has done. Least of all the Arch Surg. In their war against the Grimleal they've committed countless acts of violence and brutality… and you want to go with them. Meet their insane leader."

"That's what this is about then?"

"Of course that's what this is about. We're friends, Chrom! I care about your safety!" Gaius leaned back into the seat. "I can't believe that, you know."

"What?"

"That we're friends. You were the prince, and I was just a thief. Now you're the best friend I have. I'm so glad we met again at Cordelia's place, even if it was violent. For thirty years I survived on my own, and now I don't want to think about being alone again. "Blue… we are friends right?"

Chrom smiled, though he was cautious of where Gaius was going. "Of course. I feel the same way, Gaius. With everyone else gone, I don't know what I'd do without Ophelia." Chrom looked directly into his eyes. "And without you."

"Well… that's the thing." Gaius was silent for awhile, and he seemed to look around for his drink. He only spoke again when he realized it wasn't coming soon. "Chrom… I've survived these thirty years by being careful. You can't surrender yourself to these people! You don't know that they won't kill you. That they won't torture you! Use your damn head! Why, gods why do you want to go with them?!"

"I-I-" Chrom took a deep breath. "I need to see this Archangel. I need to know who she is for myself. I need, I don't know, closure."

Gaius just shook his head. "I know you, Chrom. I know you're stubborn, and I know when you won't change your mind. There's nothing I can say that will convince you otherwise is there?" Chrom didn't want to talk about his motivations anymore. He knew Gaius and Ophelia wouldn't understand, but he felt like he had to know who Archangel was now. If the slightest possibility that she was a Shepherd existed, then he couldn't ignore it. His mind wouldn't let him. Gaius sighed and took his drink when it finally appeared. He tipped the waiter several gold coins and leaned back with the glass. "Then… then…"

"Can I try whatever that is?"

"Sure. Help yourself." Chrom took a sip from Gaius' foreign drink. Though the familiar sting of alcohol was present, he hadn't been lying about the flavor. Perhaps intentionally, given the mischievous smile on his face, it was then that Gaius told Chrom what he was getting to. "If you won't change your mind about going with the Arch Surg… then I'm not going with you, and this will be the last we'll see of each other."

Chrom was shocked, and he almost spit out the drink. Gaius gave one last chuckle at the sight before his smile permanently faded. "You're leaving?!"

"Am I being unfair to you, Chrom?"

Chrom forced himself to finish his own drink. "No. I have no right to ask you to stay."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to risk my life like that. I daresay I know the Arch Surg better than you. Hell, I've even been hired to take out some of their officers before. They're dangerous, and I've been hearing stories about them for all eleven years that they've existed. I know better than to ever trust them, but you? Well you're just so damned stubborn. Then again, in a way it's admirable."

"Gaius… I'm sorry."

"But you'll still go? Won't you?"

"I… I'm sorry. I-I don't want to leave you."

"And you don't have to! Are you afraid they'll find you?! I can teach you how to hide! I can find work. I can keep Blondie safe. We can take the fight to the Grimleal, and we don't need them!"

"Gaius… I need closure."

"You think this Archangel will be someone you know, and you can't ignore it. You know what, Chrom? You're like these strippers. You don't like change. You just can't let the past go." Gaius took a long, defeated sigh. It was clear he knew Chrom wouldn't be convinced to stay, but he was filled with sorrow all the same. "There's something about you, Chrom. You inspire people, and you make them want to follow you to hell and back. I… I forgive you, Chrom. For everything that happened. I stopped hating you long ago, and now I just want you to know that I don't hold anything against you. I'm so glad we could see each other again."

"Gaius…"

"I'd stay with you if I could… but I have to think about my safety too. I know better than to hope you'll stay… so I guess this is goodbye. When you leave this city, I won't be coming with you."

"Then this is it." Chrom looked around. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from his mind at this point. "I see what this was now. I'm sorry, Gaius. I should have enjoyed myself."

"Well it's not too late. We still have time don't we? Hell, I'm sorry. If you want we can find something you'll actually like."

"I'm the one leaving you, Gaius. Let's do something you want to do."

Gaius looked back to the dancers. "You know what that means don't you?"

"Well… I… er-"

"Aw I'll get you to enjoy yourself. Just order something you'll actually drink when the waiter comes back around. We'll just… we won't think of anything else right now. We'll just have a good time."

Chrom slowly returned a warm smile. "Alright."

Several hard drinks later, Chrom finally did allow himself to enjoy Gaius' idea of fun, and the two really did forget the somber tone of the earlier conversation. It was almost sunset when the two finally left, or rather, stumbled out of the building. They'd both had more to drink they had intended, and now Chrom found himself having to hold Gaius as they walked. "Hey come on, man. I can, I can walk."

"No. No." Chrom answered, his own words slurred. "You're uh, you're drunk. You need my help."

"I can walk!"

"Nah, you uh… uh… you need help." Chrom proceeded to walk into the wall of the neighboring business. "Ah! Who put this wall here?! I'm the Exalt, damn it! I demand an answer!"

Gaius tried to stick his finger over his mouth, though he was a few centimeters off. "Hey shh. That's a secret! Remember?"

Chrom gave an exaggerated snicker. "R-right. It's a secret! The Grimleal t-thinks my name is Chuck! Ha!"

Drunk Gaius apparently thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "CHUCK! Hey, hey, hey where's the Falchion, Chuck? Do you want to do the Awakening ritual, Chuck?!"

"I'm sorry, good sir. You're looking for Chrom. The uh, the Exalted… guy. I'm just a simple man named Chuck!" Both men bursted out laughing and stumbled into each other. Chrom's laughing inexplicably became crying, and he wrapped his arms around Gaius. "I'm gonna *urp*... ooh, sorry. I'm gonna miss you, man!"

"Me too, Blue."

"I love you!"

"I love you too, man. I hope Archangel doesn't kill you!"

"And I hope you have a long, happy life, in spite of your horrible, horrible diet."

Chrom probably intended that as a compliment, but Gaius' drunken mind almost immediately shifted into frustration. "Hey, shut up!" Gaius shoved Chrom back, and the Exalt stumbled around in an exaggerated manner until he fell into a Grimleal poster. Gaius became curious as he looked at it. "Hey that poster has reading words. What does it say, Chuck?!"

Chrom turned and fumbled his hand around until he found it. The poster depicted Emperor Gangrel shaking hands with a corporate official from the West Valmese Trading Company. The text read "Corporations are our friends. Invest in company stock today, and secure your future tomorrow." Chrom was too inebriated to read the words, and he didn't recognize the second man, but the depiction of Gangrel filled him with rage. "It's the Emperor!"

"You mean gangly… gangrene… gangbang… what the hell was his name?"

"Gangrel! I'm gonna… I'm gonna spit on it!"

"You wouldn't!" Chrom proceeded to do just that. Gaius stared at him as if he'd actually killed a Grimleal soldier. "You absolute madman!"

"And I'd *urp*... oh… and I'd do it again!"

"... do what again?"

"I don't remember."

"There you two are!" Gaius and Chrom both turned to see Ophelia approaching. Though her own face carried an expression of worry, both men smiled at the sight. "I didn't think you'd spend three hours in that disgusting place!"

Gaius stumbled forward. "Aw come on, happier, blonder Tharja. We weren't there that long."

"First of all, what did you just call me? Second, yes you were!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Phelia." Chrom replied. "Did you have fun with… uh… Catria?"

"Minerva. The wyvern's name is Minerva."

"Same thing."

Ophelia stepped forward and took a whiff. She immediately recoiled. "Your auras are tainted with muck!"

"Wha?"

"As Soleil would say, you're all wasted!"

Gaius gave a giggle. "You know, Blondie, your outfit wouldn't be out of place with the strippers."

Chrom frowned. "Hey! That's my granddaughter you're talking about. Wait… no, not my granddaughter. She's my uh… my uh… okay say Lissa's kid had a kid. What would their relation be to me?"

Gaius just squinted. "Buddy, I am way too hammered for math problems right now."

Ophelia moaned. "I can't talk to you two like this! Hold still." Ophelia pulled out a diamond and motioned for Chrom and Gaius to look at it. She then channeled magical energy into the gem until it glowed brightly. "Hear me oh foul curse of inebriation! I am Ophelia Dusk! Chosen Heroine! The stars themselves smile down on my arcane power! I now cleanse the Exalt of Ylisse and… Gaius… so that their auras no longer be tainted!" Ophelia's diamond glowed until the light became blinding. Nothing else happened, but Chrom and Gaius started to move more easily as the light faded. "There. Better?"

"Huh?" Gaius blinked a few times. "Aw man. I feel normal again."

Chrom held his head. "What was that?"

"Gem magic." Ophelia looked proud of herself for a second, but she quickly crossed her arms and scowled. "I can't believe you two, and I'm especially disappointed in you, great uncle! What would Cordelia say?" Chrom froze as a twinge of sorrow hit him. It was particularly prominent as he remembered he still had Cordelia's blindfold in his pocket. Ophelia suddenly recognized how much her words had hurt him, and her frustration faded into a more apologetic tone. "Oh! I'm sorry. It's just that I was thinking about Soleil."

"Soleil?"

"Believe it or not, she's a lot more mature than she used to be. She would always head out to a town by Cordelia's homestead and goof off. Sometimes she'd come back a little tipsy. Cordelia would say that she wasn't taking her training seriously, and Soleil would shout that she needed to loosen up. Those weren't happy moments at the time, but now it's kind of nice to remember back when we were all together. Sometimes I'd catch Soleil when she tried to sneak away, and I'd warn her about what Cordelia would say." Ophelia brought her eyes, either a soft grey or a very light blue depending on the exact lighting conditions, to Chrom's and sighed. "I'm sorry for bringing her up. It's just that I'm used to lecturing Soleil for drinking, and I just mentioned Cordelia reflexively."

Chrom suppressed his feelings with a deep breath and straightened himself. "It's fine. I miss her too, but that's in the past."

"Is it for you? Does guilt and loss not continue to plague your spirit, great uncle?"

Chrom didn't know what to say for a few seconds, but another voice interrupted the conversation before he could think of anything. Ophelia didn't recognize said voice, but Chrom and Gaius both turned in surprise as they heard it. "Well, it could be worse. At least Chrom and Cordelia got to know each other in this timeline. They usually don't say two words to each other."

"You again?!" Gaius said in disbelief.

"Old Hubba?!" Chrom looked to him as he hobbled forward. "You escaped from the Arch Surg fort!"

A smile appeared on his ancient face as Old Hubba stopped and rested on his cane. "That's right. Of course, I've survived far worse in my time. I'm just happy to see that you all made it out. That was quite the scuffle."

Ophelia looked confused. "Wait, who are you?"

To Chrom's dismay, Old Hubba ogled Ophelia before answering. "Well hello there, fair maiden. Chrom told me about you, but it's nice to finally see you in person."

"Ugh. Ophelia, this is Old Hubba. The Shepherds encountered him in the Outrealms thirty years ago, and we met him again when the Arch Surg had us imprisoned at their fort. He was with the Arch Surg because he had nowhere else to go."

"Outrealms?" Ophelia lit up. "I've read about the Outrealms in my quest for arcane knowledge. They're like other worlds, right? Accessible only through divine magic! What happened to the Outrealms, oh wise one?"

Even with his gaze fixated solidly on Ophelia's chest, Old Hubba's expression dappened. "Alas, the Grimleal sent entire armies through the Outrealm Gate. Normally there's an Anna… I mean… normally Anna is there to guard it, but I'm not sure she could have done anything to an entire Grimleal invasion. They've since locked the Outrealm Gate down. It's as impenetrable as Mount Prism or the Thabes Labyrinth now. I have no idea what they want with the Outrealms, but it can't be good."

Ophelia's smile faded. "Is nothing sacred to them?"

"Absolutely not. The Fell Dragon would control all of spacetime if it could." Old Hubba's gaze finally left Ophelia and fell to Chrom. "But no matter how powerful these dragons are, heroes always rise to stop them."

A small smile appeared on Old Hubba's face, but Chrom didn't return it. "What are you doing here?"

"Mustafa sent me. When you last saw the fort, it was being torn apart as Keith and his loyal soldiers fought against those afflicted with Henry's terrible curse. Those soldiers lashed out at anything and everything, but they were still sane. They could still be reasoned with. Mustafa managed to appeal to them. He sympathized with them and told them to direct their anger towards those who had truly wronged them."

"Keith?"

"Yes. Keith, Archangel, who ordered the use of the curse, and… Henry. The dark mage who developed it."

Ophelia frowned. "They hate my grandfather?"

"He did mentally torture them into compliance. I can't say their anger is unjustified. Don't feel bad, Ophelia. Every good dark mage has people that curse their name. Henry and Tharja are still dirty words in some rural parts of the continent, even all these years later. Someday, if you become strong enough, people will curse your name too."

"Uh… I don't know that's a compliment."

Old Hubba shrugged and looked back to Chrom. "But Henry is no longer around, is he, Chrom?"

"No. How do you know that?"

"I'm a fortune teller. I had forseen it. I'm sorry."

Chrom clenched his fist. "What do you have to be sorry about? You've probably seen a thousand Henrys."

"That doesn't mean people don't matter to me." There was a moment of awkward silence, and Old Hubba cleared his throat. "Anyways, Mustafa actually took control of the rioting soldiers, and he's turned on the Arch Surg. He's put Keith and the few loyalists that remain under seige in the fort's citadel. The siege hadn't been broken yet when I left. He sent me here to find you, and to tell you that he's created a safe haven for you if you need it."

"Mustafa actually calmed them down?"

Old Hubba nodded. "He's quite a leader, and he wants to do right. He won't tolerate the Arch Surg's atrocities anymore, and he's still sorry for siding with Gangrel all those years ago. He wants to make it up to you."

"So it's safe there for us?"

Old Hubba nodded. "And Pheros, Cervantes, Farber, and Algol don't know that. They left before the rioting stopped."

Gaius nodded along, but then paused. "Wait, how did you find us here?"

"As I said, I had forseen it. I knew our destinies would intertwine at this fine establishment." Old Hubba motioned towards the strip club. "I actually meant to talk to you two in there, but I got… distracted."

"You dirty old man."

"Don't stick your chin up at me. You two are a little old to be part of the nightlife here, are you not?"

Gaius looked to Chrom hopefully. "Blue, this changes things! We can have those four Able Sierra fops take us to the fort, and they won't know they won't be in control when they get there!"

"But I do want to see Archangel."

"Blue! You can't just surrender yourself to them completely!"

"I'm not! They're treating us with respect!"

"And all I'm saying is that we can make sure it stays that way!"

Chrom thought about it as he turned back to Old Hubba. "Say we took Pheros, Cervantes, Farber, and Algol back to the fort. What would Mustafa do?"

"He would take them prisoner. If the siege is still going on, he might try to use them as leverage to get the Justicar to surrender. Otherwise he'd imprison them."

"Would he… kill them?"

"I don't think he'd kill them in cold blood, but they wouldn't be able to take you to Belfire, the Arch Surg's capital. That's for sure. You really do want to see Archangel, don't you? I can see her in your near future. It's… clouded. Violent. Filled with sorrow."

Gaius' tone was almost desperate as he pleaded with Chrom one last time to change his mind. "Chrom, you said it yourself. You don't want the Arch Surg to be constantly hunting us when we don't have anywhere to go. Now we do have somewhere to go!"

"But I want answers, Gaius!"

Gaius turned to Old Hubba, who frowned as he saw how much frustration was in Gaius' eyes. "Fine. You! You know who she is, don't you? Don't you?! You seem to know everything else!"

Old Hubba looked down, and Chrom realized he did know. "Well… I…"

"WHO IS SHE?!" Gaius roared.

"Gaius! Don't snap at him!"

"You need to know who she is so badly, so why shouldn't he tell us? Then you won't feel the need to surrender yourself to these terrorists just to know!"

Old Hubba sighed. "Yes. She is not some random woman. Her path has been part of yours, Chrom. She… she was a noble woman. Obsessed with heroism and righteousness. She wanted to help people. So badly. But… this timeline is a dark one. Pain and rage has hurt her, and her desire for righteousness has been twisted into something horrible. Keith is her adopted son after all. He got his personality from somewhere. In most timelines she is but a dove trailing in the Shepherd's story. Now… she's a raptor."

Gaius wasn't satisfied, and he walked up and grabbed Old Hubba by the collar. "I don't want a cryptic clue!"

"Gaius!" Ophelia and Chrom both shouted. Old Hubba didn't show fear, but his voice was weaker.

"Uh, Gaius? Maybe you should have one of your honey cakes, or a lollipop? That always seems to calm Gaiuses down."

"Can't you say one sentence that doesn't sound completely insane?!"

"Do not dismiss what I say just because I see creation differently than you do. Besides, it is not my place to simply give you the answers. You wouldn't believe me if I told you who she was. You just wouldn't. I know why you're angry. You really care for Chrom, and you fear that the Arch Surg will hurt him. You hope that Chrom might abandon his desire to see her if he knows who she is, but Chrom wants more than that! He wants to speak with her! Know why she created this army! Why this woman became such a violent warlord, and beyond that, to know why she continued to fight the Grimleal for all these years while he gave up." Old Hubba turned to Chrom. "Right?"

Chrom nodded as he realized this was all true. "I'm sorry, Gaius. Even if I did know who she was, I'd still want to see her."

Gaius slowly let Old Hubba go as he stepped back. "I'm… I'm sorry. You're right. I just… I just want Chrom to be safe."

Old Hubba smiled, showing that he wasn't angry at all. "You know, this timeline isn't worse in every way. You two have a very strong friendship here." He turned to Ophelia. "And while you are always related to Chrom, you don't always get to meet him. I'm sorry you can't see your father, Ophelia, but at least you and Chrom have the chance to build this bond here."

Ophelia looked lost in wonder with almost everything Old Hubba said, and she finally spoke up. "You speak of other timelines, and of different Archangels."

"Well technically she only calls herself that here."

"So there are different realities? Different worlds?"

Old Hubba thought, as if he were trying to figure out how to answer the question. "You know, most heroes never even learn this much about the nature of reality. Maybe I shouldn't tell you too much. Let me put it this way. There are constants in reality. A is always A. No matter what timeline you're in, there is always A. In every timeline there is a Grima. A Medeus. A Naga. People are constant too. There are always Chroms, and Gaiuses, and Ophelias… assuming that humanity wasn't wiped out before they had the chance to be born. Now don't think of these versions of you as separate individuals. They are you, but they walk different paths. They made different choices. You may wonder if free will exists when there are so many different versions of your story, but free will is why there are different realities. People making different choices creates these timelines. There is one Chrom, but he has made different choices. Does… does that make sense?" Chrom, Gaius, and Ophelia gave him blank stares, and Old Hubba continued. "The story of the Fire Emblem is set in stone, but it is told in different ways. Marriages, battles, outcomes, these things change. The conflict is always the same. The Exalted Prince meets the Fell Vessel in a field. Meanwhile, the Fell Dragon chases the Future Witness through time. From this conflict, an infinite number of possibilities are born. This timeline… is wrong. Tainted with darkness and evil, human and otherwise. Yet, you are still Chrom. You are still a hero, and there is still hope. I didn't just come here because Mustafa asked me to, you know. I want to give you something, Chrom. To show you that there is hope, no matter how bad things get."

"What?"

"I see much violence in your future, Chrom, and much pain. I don't want you to feel that there is no hope." Old Hubba paused. "You know, I really like Lucina."

"Choose your next words very carefully, old man."

"Hey! I'm being respectful here. She certainly has an interesting story. Lucina's story ends in different ways. Sometimes she marries and quietly settles down. Sometimes she becomes Exalt, and reigns as a feudal monarch. Sometimes she disappears into history, never to be heard from again. Sometimes… well sometimes she dies. Sometimes she becomes as a knight errant, wandering around looking for people to help. The life of every Lucina is tortured and filled with violence. To speak of Lucina is to already speak of a woman more noble and brave than the majority of all the people that ever existed, and yet I once had the pleasure of meeting a Lucina that went above and beyond even that call. I saw her in the Outrealms, and she was like no Lucina I'd ever seen."

"What?!"

"A brave princess. She had the long blue hair and the Mark of Naga on her eye as all Lucinas do, but she was also clad in gold and blue armor, and she wielded not the Falchion, but a lance. She gave that lance to me, and she told me to give it to a hero when the world needed them the most. Chrom… this world very badly needs a hero. I think that's you."

Chrom had no idea what to think, and he refused to accept he was hearing to avoid the surge of emotions coming back to him. "I… I don't believe any of this!"

"Then maybe I should prove it to you. Uh… everyone close their eyes. Don't look at me." Chrom closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, he found that a gold and blue lance had inexplicably appeared in Old Hubba's hand. The lance had a regal appearance, and Chrom couldn't help but be reminded of the Falchion itself. The blade, gold on the edges with blue trimming in the center, was reminiscent of the Falchion, though four metal protrusions came out of the blade's base. The center of the blade was actually hollowed out, and a blue gem adorned the center of the base. Strange writing could be seen on the blade itself. The lance itself was about 1.6 meters long. If Lucina really did wield it, it would have been about her height. Old Hubba smiled as the three stared at it in wonder. "It's called Geirskögul. I know not where it's from, but Lucina certainly had quite the relationship with time. I'm sure there are Lucinas who have seen things even I am not familiar with." Old Hubba slowly moved towards Chrom and held it out. "Take it. You need a weapon befitting of a hero."

Chrom stared blankly at the strange lance, but he did take it in his hand. He almost immediately noticed how well balanced it was. Aside from the obvious differences between a sword and a lance, he couldn't help but think that it felt like the Falchion. Like a weapon of divine power. It certainly wasn't a feeling the Carrot Axe gave him. "How… is this possible?"

"I don't know where it's from, but it certainly exists."

"No… not the weapon."

"Hmm?"

"Old Hubba… for this "brave princess" Lucina… was the fight against Grima over?" Old Hubba sighed as he realized what Chrom was getting at. "Was Grima still threatening the world?"

"You want to know if Grima was defeated in her timeline. You want to know if there are timelines… where the Shepherds won. Perhaps… you shouldn't know these things."

"Old man-"

"I just wanted to give you the weapon. To show you that all is not lost."

"OLD MAN!"

The fortune teller was silent for some time. "I think deep down you know the answer. When Medeus, Loptyr, and Duma threatened humanity, heroes rose to stop them. Grima… is no different."

"Grima could be defeated." Chrom took several steps back, and the Geirskögul shook as his hands violently shivered. Old Hubba stepped forward.

"Wait! But things could be worse. There are timelines where Grima wiped out humanity completely. This timeline can still be saved. There are timelines where heroes failed. Timelines where Loptyr plunged the world into madness. Timelines where Duma brought endless war to the world. Timelines where humanity lives as slaves under Medeus and the Dolhrian Empire. Chrom, heroes may always rise to face these dragons, but humans possess free will. Free will means the chance for errors. A hero's victory is not guaranteed."

"How is that supposed to make him feel better?!" Gaius snapped. Old Hubba continued.

"Chrom, do not feel that you alone have failed. There are Chroms that have died. Chroms that fell to madness and raged bloody crusades. Chroms that became Deadlords! You have not truly failed. You still live! There is still a chance, and this timeline can be saved! Gangrel and Aversa created this Grimleal because they came to believe what Validar believed. That Grima could not be stopped. The timelines where the Shepherds won prove that this isn't true, and the timelines where humanity was wiped out show that all is not lost here! Take a lesson from your own daughter! Lucina's timeline was far worse than this one, but she didn't give up! Because she never stopped fighting against Grima, the Shepherds were able to save the world in other timelines. That can be true here too. If you just keep fighting, things can be saved!"

"Tell me, did any other Chrom rend off his own daughter's arms?" Chrom responded in a bitter tone.

"Well… I-"

"You don't get it!" Chrom looked around in exasperation, and he began to take short, rapid breaths. "I always knew that I failed everyone I loved, but now you tell me Grima could be stopped! That there are Chroms who grew old with their families?! That there are versions of the Shepherds that lived happily?! You think that's supposed to inspire me?!"

"It proves that Grima is not all powerful."

"It proves that I am responsible for this!" Chrom motioned to the city itself. "FOR ALL OF THIS! I did this! We failed because of me, and it didn't have to be that way! How can you call me a hero?!"

"Chrom!"

"If this Lucina really did exist, then she would never want this weapon to be given to such a broken, worthless man!" With an almost feral roar, Chrom took the Geirskögul and slammed the blade into the ground, driving it so far into the street that all but the largest men would have to struggle to free it. Gaius and Ophelia tried to call for him to calm down, but Chrom could barely hear them. He could feel his blood boil with stress and rage, and he furiously ran his hands through his hair. Unable to process the emotions going through his head, Chrom stumbled off into the city, leaving Gaius and Ophelia behind.

"No." Ophelia buried her face in her hands. "I thought he was better."

Gaius turned to Old Hubba in fury. "Why did you tell him all that?!"

"I thought… the Shepherds could only prevail because of Lucina's actions in other timelines. Because of her and the other children. Because they were willing to leave everything they had ever known. They worked with the Shepherds to set the timeline on a better path. All of that was only possible because Lucina didn't give up, no matter how bad things got. I thought… I thought I could inspire him. It could be the same way here."

"You don't understand how little he thinks of himself. He's not a hero in his own eyes."

Cervantes suddenly ran up, giddy with excitement. "Ophelia! You won't believe it! I got Minerva to eat the raw meat right out of my hand!" He looked around as everyone glared. "Hey, why are you guys so glum?"

Chrom stumbled aimlessly through the streets of The Saltworks, uncaring of where he ended up. He couldn't deal with the stress he was facing now, and everything he saw only made it worse. The Saltworks would never even have existed without the Grimleal. In the timelines where the Shepherds prevailed, this land was likely simply farmland. Now an edifice to the Grimleal's control stood here, and it was all because of Chrom. The Exalt's mind flashed back to what Pheros had told him of chaos theory. Though the more complicated mathematics eluded him, he vividly recalled the point she had made. Even the smallest changes to the initial conditions could cause severe changes in the later state of a system. A butterfly flaps its wings in Chon'sin, a hurricane strikes Plegia. Similarly, given what Old Hubba had told him about heroes making different decisions, Chrom made the horrible realization that his timeline and any timeline where the Shepherds prevailed were the same until the fall of the Shepherds. From there, all the horrible differences between his timeline and the others came to be. Everything about this timeline, from the Grimleal's brutal rule, to Grima's Blight, to the creation of the Arch Surg, everything, was his fault. Even the very building he was resting on now as he ambled through the city was indirectly of his creation. As he said himself, Chrom always knew that he had failed, but now he realized it didn't have to be this way. Reality wasn't deterministic. Grima didn't have to win. It was all his fault. Just as Ophelia had said, those horrible self loathing thoughts were the only ones Chrom's guilt plagued mind would accept right now.

Chrom didn't think he could feel any worse right now, but he had no idea what was waiting for him. By sheer, horrible chance, Chrom eventually wandered into a very thick crowd at the side of one of the city's larger streets. As he looked up to see why so many people were gathered, he realized he'd found some kind of Grimleal military parade.

Heavily armed soldiers marched in formation down the street. Each one was a testament to how much the world had changed. These soldiers carried not swords, lances, and axes, but arquebuses, and each arquebus had a serrated bayonet plugged into the barrel. Each soldier was completely uniform. They all wore the same armor. They all had the same weapons. They all moved in the same way. It was the exact opposite of the individuality of the Shepherds. Behind them were horses, but they weren't cavalry. These horses were simply beasts of burden, and they pulled yet more horrifying weapons that had never existed in Chrom's youth. They pulled heavy cannons and mortars. They pulled rocket firing platforms. They pulled two carriages. One was armed at the back with a strange gun that featured wheels, every wheel having multiple small cannon barrels sticking out of it, and a crank connected to the device. Chrom realized with horror that it was a kind of repeating cannon. Turning the crank likely moved the wheel, and each cannon could then be fired as it rotated to be facing the front of the weapon. The other carriage had a massive storage tank at the back with a nozzle connected to a hose. Chrom couldn't fathom what this weapon was for. Though these machines terrified Chrom, reminding him of how powerful the Grimleal was and how much he didn't understand about the world anymore, the crowd actually seemed to cheer at the spectacle. They were lost in a patriotic fervor. The militarism of the Grimleal didn't scare them. They loved it. They were proud of it.

The crowd went wild as the light suddenly faded, and Chrom turned to see the subject of the city's fascination. A massive siege tower of sorts, so tall that it was literally blocking the setting sun, lumbered down the street, pushed forward by two dozen soldiers. The massive tower was lined with banners and ornate decorations, and cannons also lined the sides. The crowd was ecstatic at the sight. It was a symbol of pride for them. All of this militarism was. Chrom couldn't believe it. As much as Pheros had tried to tell him about how people respected the Shepherds, it was abundantly clear now that many people had no problems with the Grimleal's autocracy. Chrom looked around to see that many people in the crowd were young, and many people had even brought their children. This display of the Grimleal's power was exciting to them. It was all a symbol of how bad things were to Chrom, but they reveled in it. As broken as the Exalt thought he was, this realization crippled him. The world well and truly had moved on.

Chrom was snapped from his trance as he heard singing, of all things. He looked down the street as the siege tower rolled by to see a kind of performance making its way after the soldiers. Showgirls wearing elegant but not particularly modest dresses performed a moving dance number as the crowd cheered. Their dresses were all purple, and the Mark of Grima could always be found over their right breasts. A line of marching drummers followed after them, and behind them was a man who seemed to be at the center of the crowd's attention. Standing on top of a slow moving carriage was an actor portraying Captain Grimleal, the state sponsored character Ophelia had showed Chrom earlier. He wore a skin tight purple suit and carried an angular metal shield on his right arm. Both were emblazoned with the Mark of Grima. The man smiled and waved towards the crowd, and in particular towards the masses of children that fought their way to the front. "It's Captain Grimleal! It's Captain Grimleal!" They would cheer with innocent glee, and the man always responded with a wave and a smile. After a few seconds, as if waiting for a cue, he held his shield up and began to speak.

"Remember to invest in war and corporate securities bonds, citizens of The Saltworks! A few gold coins today can secure your financial future tomorrow! Give our brave boys and girls in the military and joint stock companies what they need to bring peace to the world, and to kick the Arch Surg back to their holes!"

The man went back to waving as the show girls began to sing. "Who'll give the Arch Surg a sack and is smart as a fox?!" Half of them sang. The other half quickly followed with a shorter verse. ("Sure as the Fell Dragon soars!")

"Who makes the Arch Surg afraid to step out of their box?!" ("He knows what we're fighting for!")

"Who's strong and brave here to fight for the Grimleal way?!"

"Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?!" The children in particular cheered as all the show girls sang together.

"Who'll hang a noose on the foes of the Grimleal?!"

"Carry the flag shore to shore for the Grimleal?!"

"From Port Ferox to the Carrion Islaaands!"

"From Castle Valm to the Border Saaands!"

"The DRAAA-CONIC man with a PLAAAN!"

The crowd continued to cheer as the anthropomorphic icon of state propaganda and the cheesy show dedicated to him passed by, and Chrom turned to see even more soldiers marching forward as the military parade continued. Unable to take it anymore, he ran off yet again.

Chrom now made his way through the city in an almost panicked manner. It had been over an hour since the parade, and the sun had since set on Ferox, but Chrom couldn't calm down. "I don't get it!" He roared to himself. "The Grimleal used to be a cult! They were evil! Everything was so simple. Heroes were heroes! Villains were villains! It was all so simple! Now the Grimleal is everything, and no one cares! These people were born after Grima took over! They don't know any better! They don't care! No one cares! What is a hero?! NO ONE CARES! I don't how to fix this! The world is dying, and people are beaten in the streets, but it's OKAY to these people because they have alcohol! Shows! Corporations, or whatever they're called! NO ONE CARES! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM ANYMORE! I DON'T HAVE A PLACE IN THIS WORLD!" Chrom turned to see a woman and her young daughter staring at him. "What do you want?! Huh? You staring at the crazy man?! Is that it?! Go ahead then! Stare at the crazy man! LOOK AT HIM!" The woman hurried her daughter away, and Chrom hung his head until he heard another voice behind him.

"Father? Who is this strange man?"

Chrom turned to see yet another consequence of his mental pain. Once more a haunting vision of Lucina faced him. This Lucina was older than the one that Chrom knew thirty years ago. She looked to be about thirty years old, just like E-13, and she had a very young infant in her arms. Somehow Chrom immediately realized what he was looking at. This was an alternate version of the younger Lucina, one that had lived a normal and peaceful life, and the child was presumably her son. His own grandchild. As if to confirm this theory, a middle aged Maribelle stepped forward and placed her hands on Lucina's shoulders. "Chrom, make him leave." She said in a worried tone.

"What the hell?!"

"Don't worry, girls." Chrom turned to see himself staring back at him. This Chrom was middle aged too, but he looked much better than his incredulous counterpart. His face was wrinkled, but he still had a stern and heroic aura. The majority of his hair was still blue, and he had a thin, neatly trimmed beard, unlike Chrom's scraggly gunmetal gray one. His armor was far more elaborate than what Chrom had worn as a young man. It was stark white with gold trimming, and there were also blue decorations on it. He wore a white and gold cape, and the Falchion was sheathed by his side. This alternate Chrom stepped in front of his wife, daughter, and grandson and forcibly grabbed Chrom. "I'll take care of this."

"What are you-"

The alternate Chrom forced his other self away and into a back alley behind a row of businesses. Chrom then proceeded to take a severe beating from his more regal counterpart. He knew at this point that there was nothing real about what he was dealing with, but he couldn't halt the inexorable hallucination. His mind just wouldn't free him. The other Chrom continued to beat him until he was sure Chrom couldn't get back up, and he then straightened his posture. "Stay away from my family!"

"W-what?!" Chrom muttered.

The alternate Chrom pointed towards Lucina and Maribelle, who were turned the other direction. "That's my family, not yours. That life's not for you. Not anymore. Not after what you did." Chrom slowly brought his head up to see the other Chrom and his family slowly fade away.

"Aww. I'm sorry your Shepherd pals aren't here anymore." As the alternate Chrom disappeared completely, Chrom turned to see Dartsmoth. The Inquisitor gave a brutish smile as he ran his finger suggestively along Chrom's chest. "But don't worry, mate. You'll always have us."

"Gah!" Chrom tried to swipe at him, but the Wielklavian immigrant avoided it by standing up and moving back. Chrom then turned to see Courtney approaching.

"That's right, you dumb son of a bitch! Your with us now, and we gonna do your sorry ass dirty!" Courtney savagely kicked Chrom in the head, causing him to roll over. He then looked up to Altman clutching his glaive.

"We should thank you, Chrom. Our new world order wouldn't be possible without you."

Chrom struggled to his feet to finally see the late Dr. Kryczek. "The peace and prosperity we have brought to humanity is your doing. Thanks to you our path is clear, and our moment of triumph is at hand. Your pathetic feudal society where people ruled by divine right is gone, replaced with our efficient and progressive mercantile, corporatist, meritocratic autocracy. We will bring stability, justice, law, advancement, and unification to humanity, and it's all thanks to you. Unfortunately I predict you will fail to adapt to our new world."

Dartsmoth chuckled. "Do you know what a remora is, Chrom? They're those little buggers you always see trailing after sharks. You and Robin were like the sharks, and the other Shepherds were your remoras. Following you around."

"The Isoptera provide a better analogy." Altman responded. "The lords of the Shepherds, you, Robin, and even Lucina, were like termite queens. The other Shepherds were your workers. Your drones. You needed their strength to defeat your enemies and maintain your power, and you depended on them. Yet, you were not equals to them. The Shepherds did not share power. You were always in charge, and everyone had to do what you said, and the Shepherds were happy to follow you. They were happy to contribute to your success. To be part of your cause. To be part of your story. They were like drones slaving away for the queen. They were happy to do it."

Kryczek nodded. "Feudalism is a lot like the eusociality we see in insects such as termites, ants, and bees. There are defined roles, and labor is divided unequally. The lower classes work for the good of the whole, and individually they are considered expendable. Leadership is determined by birth. In a feudal society the common man slaves away to support a landed aristocracy, and in return the lords protect them. Give them land to work. Give them purpose. In truth, there is no need for an elite caste. For every noble hero, I'm certain there were a hundred peasants of equal potential who wasted their lives on a farm, or in a workshop, or in a mine. The common man suffers under the inequality of feudalism. We are mammals. Primates. Not termites! Not ants! Not bees! We need not the rule of 'heroes' like you. The common man has everything required for the maintenance of society. I've seen your psychological profile, Chrom. You loved your family. Your friends. I know you've suffered, but mankind is better off in our new world."

"Look at us four." Altman added. "Courtney and I were born peasants. Kryczek was an unimportant professor looked down on for his common blood. Dartsmoth was a second class citizen in a hierarchical society. In the 'good' timelines, we would be nothing. Here, we are changing the world. Men and women like us are in charge now. We earned our positions. I'm sorry you've suffered so much, Chrom. I'm sorry Maribelle never got to be Queen. I'm sorry Lucina never became Exalt. I'm sorry your grandchildren were never born. In return, everyone else has had the chance to be better. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. You're not some protagonist in a fairy tale. You're not the only one who matters. At the end of the day, the common man carries more weight than the lord. The people may respect the Shepherds, but they don't really want to go back to the way things were."

Courtney shoved Chrom and then ruthlessly stepped on his head until he screamed. "Big hero. You're so used to everything revolving around you. Everyone follows you! Everyone cares about you! It's your story, and everyone else is just a character in it! Things are different now! You're not on your throne anymore, boy. Now you're in the gutter with us, and we play rough!"

Chrom slowly rose to his feet when Courtney finally stopped to see that the four had disappeared. A poster was on the wall of the business in front of him, and it hadn't been there before. A picture of every Shepherd was there, and each one had a blood red mark through it. The only exceptions were Chrom and Gaius. Cordelia, Henry, Donnel, Nowi, and Severa, who survived the Fall of the Shepherds but had since died or gone missing, had question marks over them. The poster read "FEUDALIST DOGS". Another poster depicted Chrom, and the poster read "Have you seen this man?" Chrom ran his hands through his hair and again ran off, desperate to avoid any more hallucinations. He ran through the street so frantically that he collided with the wall of a business, causing his nose to bleed. Chrom held his nose with his hand as blood poured from it, and he looked up to see a sign. "The Cuddly Tunneller" Chrom remembered Roy-Earle's words.

"Adjective animal. This must be a tavern. Oh gods. I need a drink."