Lance's Role

by Thrudgelmir2333

A 'shonen' fic that sequels Next Dimension and Lost Canvas. In 1960, the Pope of Athena receives three prophecies from an old enemy that irremediably set the course of his reign over Sanctuary's tragic history and almost two decades later a Saint of Pegasus finds himself put through the unfolding of a new age of violence caused by the Pope's actions. Please enjoy and review.

36. 2A: The Growing Night

Notable OCs: Pegasus Lance's Saint Generation, Civil War Saint Generation, World War Saint Generation, Daemon Lucifer's Specters, Maiden Elisa, Priam's Black Saints; Cyrulian Refugees

Notable Original Concepts: Mount Olympus Training Ground, Sanctuary Court, Teos Cloth, Athenian Empire mythology, Isle of Gardens; Stardust Prison; Hades' Dark Princes; Desert Beyond; Sanctuary Town Layout & Buildings

Recurring/Cameo OCs of Jenny DeVic: Mrs. Schafurwatt, Cyrus

Recurring/Cameo Concepts of Jenny DeVic: Great Bodyguard Legend, Golden Line Heritage, Sanctuary Orphanages, Andromeda Island's Geography & Tests, Sanctuary Nobility, 88 Knights Festival

Author Notes:

-Another milestone achieved; LR is now officially past the 650,000 words mark (owo

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Please enjoy and review (^_^)

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"A new star shines above Giudecca Palace. It is the Celestial Star of Pride. I have become Daemon Lucifer, a mere mortal no more.

Somewhere during my time incarcerated, awaiting my fate, Michael interceded with the Emperor and convinced him to grant me salvation, a second chance and now I will share the role of Dark Prince with Michael.

The feeling of relief collides with unacceptable shame.

Unsatisfied with warning me about my folly, dissatisfied with defeating me in front of the whole army, Michael has saved my life and even fulfilled my dream for me. I thought the worst a person could experience could only come through pain, through the loss of loved ones, but today my rival proved me wrong by showing me everything I've ever believed in has been hollow and childish. He has always been the superior candidate not just on the battlefield, but in actions outside it.

Should my attempts to destroy Sanctuary fail, I don't believe I would feel more utterly crushed like an ant under the Emperor's disappointed eyes than I would at what Michael has just done to me.

I can't stop wondering if I would have done the same, should the situations have been reversed. I couldn't even take pleasure from Pandora's face, when she found out Michael went behind her back, or from Rhadamanthys' when he learned he would have 'two' Princes to deal with now. All I can think about is how naive and embarrassed I was and how I don't know how to fix this. It's a mercy I thought only the Emperor, with his blessing of death upon the mortals, could grant.

Perhaps the Emperor wished to reflect the irony of this all in my new armor's resting shape; a twirled, dragonish devil, very much like the one depicted in the paintings in churches being slain by the archangel. The Daemon Surplice is absolutely beautiful and just as powerful as Dark Angel, but it's inspired by my failure, a cast-off servant who thought he could prove everyone wrong. All this time, the name given to me by the Emperor, Lucifer, has just been an allusion. Now it's a scar made much more prominent by the Damascus on my shoulders."

-Sixth entry from Lucifer's first journal, dated 15th of July of 1503

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A month later,

Late November 1976

Underworld, Second Circle, Fourth Prison

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November was reaching its end, and the Underworld was looking like a changed place with Lucifer's mobilization and the gradual return of more True Specters. In the Second Circle, known as Antenora and which included the Third and Fourth Prisons, the Celestial Valiance Star ruled supreme and the Garuda Judge could see the vastness of the Third Prison expand far more sustainably, with the undead properly shackled to their punishment as opposed to back when Aiacos first arrived, when a big portion of them roamed free, chaotically. Supposedly the Third Prison had been the site of the final battle of the last Holy War, so seeing it be brought back to peak condition was a testament to their efforts. Perhaps the Prince was right, and the destined war could begin sooner than they assumed.

Of the three Judges, Aiacos attempted to strike the most balance between his duties of administering his Circle and preparing the Specters for war, while Minos and Rhadamanthys each followed a style that radically favored the former and the latter, respectively. As such, Aiacos made a habit of both inspecting the work and being an example to the men, as opposed to dedicating himself entirely to the judgment of the dead, like Minos, or the drilling of Hades' warriors, like Rhadamanthys. Because of this, much like in every other day, he was communing with the Specters, occasionally checking their work and working to earn their confidence.

As he entered the Fourth Prison, where the river Styx was swollen into a great dark swamp, he spotted a member of an Underworld group he had reservations about. Pulling the heavy chains that lifted up a stone elevator that would carry a pile of corpses up to a dropping point into the black waters, the False Specter Behemoth Torak worked non-stop to get the tasks of the day done, while Basilisk Sylphid just seemed to stand by the side, watching the whole thing. Not very far off, the Lycaon False Specter could also be seen operating the raft through Styx that would lead you to the Walls of Dis and the Fifth Prison, but that was a territory beyond Aiacos' jurisdiction, in the Third Circle of Ptolomea.

Therefore, Aiacos ignored Lycaon and approached the Specters of the swamp. "Basilisk, you've returned from the frozen wastes."

The young child dressed in heavy black and purple armor shivered and nodded. "Yeah, I have, your Honor. Lady Pandora sure is scary when she gets mad. I thought I'd never get out of the Cocytos." The Celestial Victory Star then clicked his tongue, frustrated. "I swear if I find whoever ratted me out…"

"Focus on your duty, Sylphid, and you'll never fear such reprisals again." reminded the older Specter. "Next time, I might not be there next time to defend you from her and Rhadamanthys."

Some of the other False Specters were around as well, mostly grunts like Dullahan and Elf, but all diligently on the line of duty along with the rest of the Skeletons.

Aiacos stared at them, Lucifer's words from the day he 'awakened' still in mind.

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Those false Specters? The Emperor's desires are clear; the replacements are to keep working, unaware of their fate, and over time be replaced by the real Stars as you awaken.

Really? What will be of them, then, Prince?

They will be with Thanatos, my teacher.

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It seemed vexing to think about it. As a Judge, Aiacos sympathized with the desire to honor the Emperor and the replacements seemed just as willing to do it as the real warriors of Hades like Prince Lucifer and himself. The only difference was that the replacements would die and be tossed into the same ditch as the sinful, while they would ascend to Elysium with their God. It was true that the False Specters, as Lucifer had once called them in their conversations, were not bound to the Evil Stars the same way the True Specters were, and therefore could not be expected to reach such a deep connection with Hades and the Cosmos as himself, but this trick almost seemed too cruel.

Over time he had attempted to confide with the other Judges about this but, as the incident in Lucifer's strategy meeting had taught him, Minos was completely uncaring of what happened to anyone under his service, while Rhadamanthys cared too much in the wrong direction. Even Prince Lucifer seemed brutal with them, openly discussing matters like decimation as if executing loyal soldiers to inspire fear in the rest was a causal necessity, rather than a tragedy.

As he raised the cargo lift to the proper place to dump the zombies inside the swamp, the enormous Behemoth Specter noticed the Judge's presence. "Lord Aiacos." he honored, nodding his sweaty head, but focusing right back on his tasks.

Aiacos found himself responding equally with a nod, unsure why he acknowledged a False Specter. Perhaps ancient memories still locked inside his mind told Aiacos that he knew the real owner of this Surplice once. The curiosity was enough that it spawned a question in his tongue. "How long have you been a Specter, Torak?"

The black-haired youth paused suddenly, stunned.

Sylphid got up from his seat. "Hey, get back to work, Sasquatch!" the infant Victory Star screeched.

Pushing more piles of dead bodies into the cargo lift, Torak tried to stay busy while answering the deadly Judge. "It's been some years, but I forget, Valiance Star," he confessed, though an angry squint formed in his face as he wondered what punitive trap this True Specter wanted to set, asking such a personal thing. "It is irrelevant, though, because what matters most is the Underworld."

The focus on his duty was not lost on the Judge. "Incredible… the Emperor has recruited them for these menial tasks that they don't even question why they have to call some of us as Stars and others not." Aiacos noticed, completely unaware the False Specters already knew very well why. "I was curious, Behemoth, because you seem like a veteran worker, and I was wondering if you were interested in becoming my second-hand warrior."

The work stopped again, with Torak staring at him.

Basilisk Sylphid also dropped his jaw and rushed up to him. "Lord Aiacos, have you rested properly? I think you just asked if this lowlife could become your-"

"I know what I asked." the Asian-featured Judge asserted.

Torak's suspicious blue eyes didn't know what to focus on. How was he going to get out of this? He'd be damned if he had to work close to one of the True Judges. "I… I have work to do." he grabbed the large chains and pulled them down, making the lift carry an enormous pile of corpses. "I think Lord Minotaur Gordon, is available to assist you."

Aiacos squinted. Why was this False Specter so hesitant? Being a Judge's favored one was a huge, uplifting honor. "Nonsense, the Prison Star is at the Labyrinth, where he must be, and he's one of Rhadamanthys' men. Your job can be taken up by anyone who can burn their cosmos enough to lift a simple boulder."

While Torak still seemed stunned, Sylphid coughed to his fist and approached the Judge to mentally-message him. "Lord Aiacos, with all due respect, this is a replacement," he stressed. "There are many of our True brothers who are far stronger and would kill to become your protégé. This lamp post of a fraud will be long dead before the Holy War arrives, remember?"

"I am aware… I want to test these men." Aiacos once again asserted, turning to the huge youth once more. "Well?"

But Behemoth was unmovable. "I have been placed here by direct command from Prince Lucifer," he lied. "If you wish to move me, you must first clear it with him, or I may be punished."

Aiacos even dropped his jaw at the affront as a tense silence fell between the three. Sylphid sweated, thinking for a moment that he would be treated to the brutal spectacle of the False Specter's nerves being burned from the inside out with the Galactic Illusion.

"Who taught you to be so obstinate?!" Aiacos questioned. Even if he had memories of the Behemoth Specter from the previous war, he had no sensation of the person being anything but utterly loyal to him.

The stern-looking youth did his best to not turn his defiant glare to the True Specter. Instead, he took a discrete, calming breath and eyed the Judge respectfully. "I was taught by Gryphon Urial to stick to my principles… and honor the Prince. If this is obstinate to others, let it be so."

Sylphid suddenly thought the Judge would shoot fire out his eyes, from the way he looked at the False Specter. His small foot kicked the back of Torak's leg, making him shout and fall to his knee. "Disobeying a Judge, will you? Get back to work, you fraud of a Specter! I want the wails of the dead to be heard from the Guidecca!" Victory Star screamed. "I apologize, Lord Aiacos, I will teach him some manners."

Still scowling like an angry dog, Aiacos turned away and left the scenery, fuming underneath his enormous armor. What could he expect from fake representatives of the Emperor but a total absence of appreciation for their status? This was precisely why all of humanity deserved to burn; a lack of respect for values!

As he walked out of the 4th Prison, a repetitive rubbery sound, like a large leaping frog, was heard and Terrestrial Weird Star Frog Zelos appeared from behind a rock. "He, he, he, Lord Aiacos, what has you upset?"

Aiacos blinked. The Frog Specter? Had he been following him? "What do you want, Zelos?"

The Terrestrial Weird Star looked away like a shy girl. "Oh, definitely something worth your time, your Honor. I was observing your conversation with Sylphid and the big phony rhino while I carted up the zombies for them." Zelos lied, showing off his massive teeth. "If you are looking for a second fiddle to your greatness, I would not be as ungrateful at the offer!" he bragged, thumping chest.

The Judge was utterly disgusted by the implication. "Yes, but something tells me you'd make for far less acceptable company."

Zelos hissed and tried to ignore the insult. Squirming towards the Judge, he put on a huge smile. "Lord Aiacos, what if I told you a juicy detail about the False Specters?" he enticed.

"Detail?" Aiacos questioned, squinting. What nonsense was this? Garuda had not been in the Underworld long enough to know all of his True Specter comrades, but Zelos, in particular, had seemed to him like an untrustworthy person. Rhadamanthys had even taken an immediate dislike of him and tossed him to lame jobs he wouldn't give to Skeletons and replacements. On the other hand, Prince Lucifer always complained about how the restlessness in them was a constant problem, to the point he used it to partially justify the fort construction.

"They've been misbehaving, heh, heh, heh. I've been looking around-" Zelos detailed, getting his face closer to the Judge. "-and it seems to me they've been talking about getting revenge on some of the True Specters, like you and me, that they despise so much. Building the new fort for Lord Lucifer all by themselves must have pushed them too hard. That man, Torak you spoke to, likely has a swamp patch with your name on it, if you forgive the imagery."

Garuda Aiacos stared at the chuckling frog, calculating if this could possibly be true. "These are serious accusations…"

"Pah, serious?!" Frog spat to the black ground. "Ask Charon, if you wish, Lord Aiacos; the replacements have a streak of revolting, unlike us true faithful." he challenged. He then widened his smirk again. "Of course, I could try to get more details if you promote me out of my pitiful job."

Aiacos rubbed his chin. Could this be true? On the one hand, he wasn't the least bit inclined to entertain Zelos' intrigue, but on the other, if he could really get other more experienced Specters like Charon and Lucifer to confirm these fears, then perhaps it was wise to keep it in mind. "... I'll think about it. Now get back to work."

Zelos bowed his head so deep he touched the spot he spat on. "Yes, Lord Aiacos," he guaranteed, eyes closed. Peeking out with his right eye, he waited until the Judge was out of sight, namely when he heard the youth boom out of the area with a flap of his colossal metal wings. "Pah, arrogant bird! Hey, you two, I did my part!"

From behind the boulders, Golem Treble and Deadly Beetle Gauromydas came out, two False Specters so huge that the Frog was shocked at how well they were able to conceal their presence, especially with Gauromydas' two towering beetle stag horns. Perhaps being despicable fools who did not occupy the mind of virtuous warriors like Zelos had its own advantages.

Zelos leaped over to them, immediately swallowed by their large shadows. "See, I did what you told me to! Now let me go!"

Treble and Gauromydas glanced at each other. "He did a good job," commented Golem.

Gauromydas nodded in agreement. "An excellent job. The boss was right about him. We should let the others know." he then single-handedly lifted up Zelos. "Come here!"

"HEY, WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME NOW?!"

Golem Treble chuckled like a dumb bully about to stuff him in a locker. "We're gonna put you somewhere safe for the time being. I hope you like white sand."

Zelos was bewildered. "... sand?! Of course I don't! It's coarse and rough on my skin, and it gets all over my armor when I have to pick dead people in the surface! Where in the Underworld is there white sand?!"

Golem looked at the mountains in the horizon, where the howls of the dead could be heard from. "You don't know the place… but you will, especially for the next few months," Treble mocked.

While Zelos screamed and squirmed and Trebled taped his mouth shut, Deadly Beetle sent out the short-range mental message to the Nasu Specter. "Miss Erika, the seed of doubt has been planted. We can start getting things ready for Cyclops, Bat, and Worm at the fort."

A faint female chuckle was returned. "Good, I sense Aiacos flying about. I'll let our savior know. Good job, men."

The roar of the boiling cauldrons was heard and the two False Specters smiled with the satisfaction of a sneaky plan underway and made their path towards the Desert Beyond with their little muffled agent in tow.

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Chapter 36

Second Arc

Episode 5

Growing Night

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Sanctuary,

Golden Zodiac,

Pope's Halls

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Pope Arles III had given the Papal Guards explicit orders to accompany the most recent visitor to the Zodiac up the stairs to his Halls, but the person in question was so well guarded that many of the young Gold Saints she passed through made them wonder if the extra attention was necessary. Now with the Pope himself at the last Temple, Elder Yuzuriha, donning her Tibetan robe and showing off her Lemurian dots in between her faded-white front bangs, noticed with an intrigued smile that Shion seemed to be chuckling.

"You're in a good mood today." she commented, smirking back.

The masked man nodded. "Yes. My student, Mu, just sent me another letter. It makes me happy for two reasons; one, he is finally resorting less to spamming me with mental messages across so many security breaches and using a more traditional method. Two, he just finished breaking down an exciting project I had brought over from the Isle of Gardens."

She tilted her head in a manner to indicate curiosity, a vestigial habit of her very distant days from when she wore a mask. "A project? Don't tell me you finally decided to dig up Phoenix from that awful island and send it to him?"

"Oh, no, no, this is almost as interesting and far less dangerous; a golem," Arles revealed. The woman just stared at him, unimpressed. Much to Shion's chagrin, Master Hakurei's second student was not the kind of Lemurian that was at all interested in or knowledgeable of alchemy. "It's an… artificial, pseudo-living clay homunculus of sorts that can be programmed for tasks of droid-level complexity. Saint Cancer discovered them at the service of the Temple of Gardens and Saint Capricorn recommended bringing them over."

Yuzuriha just rested a hand on her hip.

"It's a doll that fights and heals itself," the Pope oversimplified. "You know, two centuries have been more than enough time for you to gain some interest in science."

"I'm not sure if Master Hakurei ever told us about alchemic soldiers." she pointed out, prompting Shion to gesture a touché hand twirl. "In fact, I think if he had any to tell about in class, he would have used those in my steed since I guarded the place."

The Pope pulled a letter he got the previous week from a nearby tray. Opening it up, he showed her the picture Mu sent of himself giving a V finger sign and a happy smile as the man-shaped clay doll managed to stand on both feet next to him.

Yuzuriha, however, noticed something else. "He looks just like Atla did. Maybe they're from the same clan." she thought, referring to Master Hakurei's youngest protegé. "He must be incredibly clever to pull that kind of project off at such a young age."

This made the leader of Sanctuary chuckle. "Especially when it seems that this thing wasn't made by a Lemurian." he pointed out, gaining her interest for the first time. "A man named Chrysalis...the people living in the Isle of Gardens were so appreciative of him having built guards who could walk through the poisonous roses safely that they renamed their little village after him."

She could spot Shion's plots a mile away. "Are you asking me if I know of him?" to which she got a sly nod as he served her some wine. "Unfortunately, no, Shion. It's hardly consequential to keep track of one artisan considering the other dealings our brethren has with Sanctuary. Your aristocrats, for example-" she pointed out, taking a glass. "-I've been getting complaints, Shion. I can't keep our colonies happy if the landowners you send to protect them don't do their jobs. A 'golden ring' may signify nobility in Sanctuary, but nobility in Shamballah is demonstrated through one's art and bonds with one's peers."

The Pope sank in his chair self-consciously. Shamballah was one of many Lemurian colonies in Tibet, which were mostly artisan and mining villages. Historically, Sanctuary's relations with the surviving Lemurians were complex and deeply-entrenched, hence the need to make the person responsible for protecting their interests, in this case, the Elder Yuzuriha, one of the Seven Allies.

Since many in these villages were focused on trade, defenders were necessary. Aristocrats could more reliably supply fighters and did so. Over time, there was a decay in the screening process that led to guards who were not as qualified and were not performing their duties to the expectations of the vilagers.

If there were problems with what the Aristocrats send over, he would have to mediate with the Elder, and it just so happened the one person who knew him best was said Elder.

"I'll see what I can do, Yuzuriha, but... recently, Saint Aguilon passed by and asked me to divert more men to Austria, so I can't afford to spare too much manpower right now without causing panic."

The grey-haired woman eyed him suspiciously. "Again with these excuses, Shion? I don't remember Lord Sage being so hesitant in doing what was needed when he was Pope."

Shion nodded to confirm. "It's not like it was in 1750… or even 1950 for that matter, Yuzuriha. I do have to be mindful about every action now more than ever." His masked faced looked off. "It's not that long until we fight in our second Holy War after all."

She narrowed her eyes, having known Shion for far too long to fall for his stratagems. "You know I can't go home and tell our brethren that nonsense." she promptly pointed out. "I thought you had relegated many of your tasks to the Gemini Saint. Isn't he doing well?"

This triggered a preoccupying response from the Pope, who seemed to lean back and lifted his chin as if to sigh. "He is… Saga is doing his best. Adapting to his new position hasn't been easy, but the Cancer Saint lifted some pressure off him by pronouncing himself Patron and Saga has worked around the clock to make sure Sanctuary is doing well. The people have calmed down from what happened at the Festival and the training of new recruits is booming."

There was so much good news, yet Arles' words were tense like a log to Yuzuriha. "Your hesitations tell me a different story," she pointed out, suddenly narrowing her eyes. "For the longest time, you ruled so serenely, now for the past decade, it's like you've lost your composure, Shion. I thought you were apprehensive because some of the Civil War Gold Saints were still around and you had to rely on people that you trusted such an immense burden upon, but…" She fidgeted with her hair, a sign of her, for once in a moonlight, trying to find the right words to soften a blow on a friend. "I can't help but think you might be worried that Priam will return agai-"

"I'M NOT!" Shion shouted, turning so fast he almost hit the table. A tense silence followed. Arles' body shook, and he breathed out the ill thoughts in his mind when he realized he had just yelled at his friend. "... I'm sorry."

Gulping discreetly, Yuzuriha re-measured her words. "This isn't helping, Shion."

"I know…" the masked man admitted, lowering head.

The Lemurian woman sighed. Putting Shion through this was far from what Yuzuriha wanted. Watching him show signs of lack of restraint made her any happier. "I need you to show me a sign that you're still in control," she demanded. "You don't want people like Thorkell, Cetus, and Aezrel to think you're weak. The Asgardians have their own Pope, and Thorkell wasn't afraid to slit the throat of the last one that didn't show leadership," she pointed out, referring to the other Allies of Sanctuary like herself. "What do you think he'd do to a foreign one?"

"Then perhaps I can set you at ease," a high-pitched voice pronounced. Walking into the scene from one of the halls, the blonde, young boy Virgo Shaka showed himself out of armor, startling Yuzuriha. "I sense that part of what concerns you, Elder, is our most recent security breach, am I wrong?"

The aged Ally stared at the boy, blinking, unsure if she saw straight. "Are you one of the new Golds?" she asked. "Just like Aiolos and Saga, this one looks just like…"

"There is nothing to be afraid of from the Black Saint attacks like the one from the festival, Lady Elder." added the blonde-haired boy from India. "Cause if there were, I would immediately sense and annihilate any of them."

Both of them turned to the intruding boy. "Shaka… could you guarantee that?" asked Pope Arles.

Yuzuriha just stared at the kid in stunned silence, feeling painful memories from a long gone sacrifice return to her.

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It was the eighteenth century, in the 7th prison of the Underworld, into where the Yomotsu Hirasaka's hole lands on.

Yuzuriha had just helped Unicorn Yato and the Dragon Bronze Saint rescue Tenma from Mandrake's dungeons. Lord Dohko and Cygnus had departed in a separate quest, and Lord Rasgado stood guard at the Taurus House following Pisces Albafica's death.

Following the battle with the Mandrake Specter, the Bronze Saints guided by her reached the Blood Waterfall, near the frontier with the 6th Prison, where the tree of the Underworld was. From there, in turn they would collect the 108 fruits for Master Hakurei to form the beads to seal the Specters with. But just as they attempted to climb the rocky walls, a large, booming, yet silent force burst open the cascading blood down the middle like a curtain, revealing the man in golden armor like the sun. The rocky wall shook, forcing the Saints to grab on, and Tenma gasped while the Dragon Saint widened his eyes in recognition of the man.

The Gold Saint, eyes closed, raised his left hand. "Pegasus Saint, the great sinner," he spoke. "Right now, in this world, will you face the Emperor of the Underworld again?"

The Saints leaped off the wall in alarm. Upon landing, Dragon stepped in front of Pegasus in a hurry. "Tenma, be careful!" He then reeled in recognition. "This man… he looks just like-"

But the Gold Saint's hand shined. "There's no need for you three to be here. Begone!" His palm then burst out a blinding flash of cosmos, which enlightenment would freeze all the undesired Saints in a separate realm.

But the Dragon Saint unexpectedly raised his shield. "No, you don't!" With a green flow of power and a faint background dragon roar, reflected the light with his buckler's emerald-smooth surface, causing the Saints to gasp and the golden man's technique to be canceled out, causing another force to boom across the valley and make the blood lake deposit splash upwards.

The Saints recoiled and clenched fists at the enemy. "S-Shiryu… what was that?! Who is this person?!" asked Yuzuriha. "Master Hakurei didn't tell me about him!"

With his blind eyes seeing in the Underworld, Dragon was able to recognize the looks. "He resembles Shaka so much… it's just like Shun said, the Gold Saints of this war all resemble our own." he thought. "What is your name, Virgo? Why do you attack us?"

The blind, blonde man looked genuinely bewildered by the Dragon Saint. "Fascinating… I did not expect your presence here, Dragon. I am Asmita, the Gold Saint of Virgo."

Tenma couldn't stop shaking in nervousness. "You're Virgo, but your cosmos is so aggressive… like we are the enemy!"

Asmita relaxed, assuming his meditating seat. "I wanted to meet the man that they call the great sinner, but he turned out to be a mere child." The air then shook all around them as his cosmos rose, like a tremendous atmospheric pressure. "Such disappointment. Just like I thought, Athena is a fool, and relying on this boy is causing her heart to waver." His long blonde hair flowed around in preparation for a second attack. "Perhaps salvation will truly lie in Hades' judgment in this era."

The Saints went to full alert "What, but you are a Saint! How could you betray Sasha?!" Yato questioned, devoted to the girl as always.

Asmita merely smirked. "What if I am?" he mocked, shocking them further. His golden cosmos then burned intensely, announcing the start of the battle. "What will you do?!"

The three weaker Saints of the era recoiled in fear at the immensity of the energy they felt, but Dragon shook in anger. "We will stop you, Asmita!" he vowed, charging his draconic power. He dashed at the Gold Saint with a sudden burst of lightspeed. "ROZAN!-"

Feeling the might of the dragon Seiryu manifested in this mortal, Asmita's attention was once again caught by the unexpected Bronze. "This power level…!" he then focused and manifested his transcendent powers. "KHA!"

"- SHORYUHA!" shouted Shiryu, executing the might uppercut with a roar of a giant dragon, punch the burst of divine energy that Asmita let out with such force that the entire valley seemed to shake, forcing the other Saints to take cover.

With a whirling, furious power that made the blood waterfall reverse its course entirely, the attack seemed to somehow penetrate Asmita's defensive barrier like a mist and reached out for the man himself. Suddenly, with a mere raise of his palm over Shiryu, the mighty blow was stopped in its tracks, touching the Virgo gauntlet with the Dragon's knuckle guards, snapping a shockwave that unfazed the Gold Saint but made his breath stop for a microsecond and his hair flutter.

Asmita's hand shook in effort feeling the Dragon Saint's struggling fist. "Amazing… perhaps Pegasus is not the only Godslayer of this era."

The youth of long, black hair that Yuzuriha had met in Jamir gritted his teeth, while his arm muscles bulged. "T-those techniques won't work twice on me!"

Asmita deciphered the meaning of these words instantly. "Ah… now I see. You must be one of the mysterious Bronzes that dealt with Suikyo last year." he wrongly interpreted, perking Tenma's attention at the mention of his original teacher. "I didn't realize Shijima, the Gold Saint before me, had used the same techniques as me."

Prohibited from revealing his origin, Dragon did not correct Asmita's mistake. "S-something like that." he teased.

Yuzuriha couldn't help but stare, though. "Incredible, this is the power of a Gold Saint." She thought. Her pragmatism overcame her fear, though, and she grabbed Yato and Tenma's hands. "Come on, we must grab the fruits while Shiryu fights! We won't have another chance!"

A whirring orb of light formed in Asmita's free hand. "I don't think so." he then lightly pressed it on Dragon's stomach, causing it to suddenly shoot off and blast the screaming dragon Saint straight to them with a brief flash of untraceable power.

Yato caught him. "SHIRYU!" he screamed as the others rallied to his side and stood up to Asmita.

"Such camaraderie among you four," confessed Asmita, pleased. "Perhaps, I'll have you take comfort from each other in the afterlife once I send you to the six paths."

"D-damn you!" Tenma growled, taking the lead and charging his cosmos with his guiding hands. "PEGASUS!" he then leaped at the man. "RYU SEI KEN!"

Asmita smirked. Two Godslayers in the same era made things interesting indeed. Now he would see the power of Sasha's favorite. "Let's see if you are as savvy of my house as your friend, Pegasus. KHA!"

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

The Lemurian woman stared at the child, another look-alike of the Gold Saints of her age. Virgo Shaka, as this one was called, had all the traits of Asmita; similar facial features, a long blonde hair, closed eyes suppressing the power behind the vision sense and even the same kind of overconfident smirk that could only come from a god walking amongst men. Even her 7th sense reeled in recognition, sensing the same kind of strange, undecipherable energy that seemed hidden behind a great distance, as if a whole universe, rather than half a room, physically separated her from the sixth Gold Saint.

The only difference was... this Asmita was three feet shorter.

Shaka smiled gracefully at the Pope. "Of course, your Holiness. The second they dare to step into Sanctuary, I will cast them into the hell of traitors."

She chuckled. "How very confident of you… but you didn't stop their first infiltration. What good will you be next time?" she challenged.

And the challenge was quickly met. "You speak to a young Saint, Lady Yuzuriha, but a Saint nonetheless. I confess I was unaware of their very existence, but I was quickly able to adapt to their methods that very day, was I not?" Shaka reminded, referring to how he assisted Saga and Lance's search for their hideout by tracing the karma of Priam and Guardnia. "Their success won't repeat itself."

Yuzuriha frowned. This was a bit too much coming from someone who didn't look older than six.

And, somehow, Shaka was able to sense this suspicion and raised chin at her. "You believe me wrong, Lemurian Elder, but let me assure you I am no normal child. My communion with 'God' and enlightenment put me far above even my current generation Gold Saints," he spoke, referring to Buddha.

Even without reading her thoughts, Shion could tell what Yuzuriha was thinking. "Shaka is very talented, a reminder of heroes of old, is he not?" he slyly pointed out. "I haven't had a candidate adapt so quickly to the teachings of the Virgo Cloth in decades. You asked for a sign of my confidence, and here it is."

She glanced at him sternly. "Another child?..." Clicking her tongue, Yuzuriha came to the conclusion that this was another wasted attempt to reason with her friend. Mentally calling for her guard, she put her hood and scarf on, signaling her desire to leave. "Alright, your Holiness, I don't need a demonstration from you to see your point."

The sudden coldness in the air was palpable.

"Yuzuriha… why do you not have confidence in me?" Shion mentally asked, frustrated. "Every time you've needed help, I've been here to receive you, to accommodate our people's needs. Have I not done a good job as a Pope? Have I not done what was asked of me?"

Yuzuriha squinted. "I 'had' confidence, but now I'm not so sure. If you asked a hundred years ago, I would say you served Athena well, but ever since the third Civil War and your past decisions over the last few years, I'm sorry but I find your position as the Pope to be very questionable." She understood that he was asked to lead Sanctuary while she and her husband were asked to live a peaceful life away from it. But here she was, living proof that what one was asked by the end of the war would not remain as such two hundred years later.

Shion paused. The third Civil War had been rough, but he had a strong feeling that him acting on Hecate's prophecies has a great deal to do with her mistrust.

She turned her face away. Pretty soon they would be yelling if one of them didn't bite their tongue right away. "I was just answering your question. It wasn't an invitation to go down this rabbit hole of a conversation again." Yuzuriha sensed her escorts at the door already and decided to part with more friendly terms and dropped the matter. "Thank you, for listening earlier, farewell."

Shaka heard the large doors opening and the Elder's Lemurian escorts dressed in Tibetan robes over lamellar armor came in. "Allow me to accompany your party down, Lady Elder." the Virgo offered.

Yuzuriha shrugged her shoulders, okay with it. "Let's go, men."

The Pope sent her some final thoughts. "I will write a letter to the Greeks in your land, Yuzuriha. Oh, and, uh..." he then hesitated, like someone embarrassed for having postponed a task."I'll visit the mausoleum when… as soon as I find some time."

She darkened her gaze and brow dots with the shadow of her aged hair bangs when she momentarily looked down. "I'm sure Yato would have appreciated it. I'll see you later, Shion."

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Quietly going down the staircase to the Pisces Temple, the group was beheld by passing Papal Guards and servants with interest. Not since the Third Civil War had the Pope received visits from Sanctuary's seven supporting factions so frequently, to the point that most of the new generation had not even met Yuzuriha and Cetus before the tragic 88 Knights Festival of three months earlier. It could easily be interpreted as a bad omen, like a sign of incoming conflict with a common enemy, to see these people take the time and effort to walk all those steps to spend the day talking with Arles.

This was because while Yuzuriha's long history with Shion was not public knowledge for most people. Her visits were kind of an event in itself, especially with the normally reclusive Virgo Saint volunteering to accompany them down. The curiosity of the Greeks toward Lemurians, like herself and the judge, Meropis, reminded her of one of the reasons why, as the Crane Silver Saint, she had opted to stay close to Master Hakurei instead of training with the rest of the Amazons at 'Aretias.' She simply did not have the energy to deal with the poking and questioning, even coming from fellow masked female Saints.

But as the attention of her guards was caught by the reddening of her face and the small tears in her eyes, she began to miss the benefits of wearing a porcelain skin all day. "Your Grace?" one called.

"I'm fine." she quickly dismissed, cleaning her eyes discreetly. More than a matter of the stoic grace that Crane had instilled in her at a very young age, Yuzuriha should appear composed among fellow Lemurians.

Such pain was not possible to disguise to the child who could read one's karma, though. "You feel sorrow for the Pope, though I don't understand quite why," concluded Shaka nonchalantly, revealing why he had accompanied her down. The lack of tact in his approach was only matched by the surprising ease with which he walked down the curving stair steps with eyes closed without stumbling around, making him look further inhumane. "His Holiness has done a tremendous job. Pope Arles has gathered an excellent group of Gold Saints, has defeated major insurrections and successfully juggled the self-absorbed interests of you, allies, for decades on end."

Waiting until they walked past from the staring passers-by, the Elder responded. "I'm surprised one in communion with Buddha focus his success parameters on such material objectives."

Shaka was frankly baffled by this. "Material? On the contrary; Sanctuary serves a spiritual mission entirely in line with what I see fit for humanity's spirituality; a balance with the other gods and the evil of their armies," he argued. "Never in the history of Sanctuary has the fighting been seriously taken back by Athena to the God's realms, showing and proving humanity's ability to be superior to their pettiness through her vision for us."

Remembering the campaign, when Athena fought at the end of the last Holy War and their hasty escape from the Underworld, Yuzuriha had her doubts about the 'never' part. "If you believe so."

But the disinterest in her tone for his argument only ticked Shaka further. "Do you disagree? By renouncing vengeance from how much we've been injured in the material world, our spirit overcomes the suffering caused to us entirely, and by saving mankind from the Olympians, the suffering of others is relieved as well. Therefore, a good Pope of Sanctuary furthers my creed."

Her bored green eyes looked away. "It's not that I disagree, I just have no interest in such self-justifications."

Shaka chuckled, now understanding a bit more about who he was speaking with. "Mhh, mhh, a Lemurian who dislikes debates? It seems even I can be surprised, still," the child closest to God related. "Are you perhaps of a battle clan?"

They were now arriving at the Pisces Temple. Yuzuriha noticed her escorts were starting to get impatient with Shaka, who repeatedly addressed their highest authority with complete lack of respect or hesitation as if they weren't there to ward it off. Inexperienced Gold Saints were not well regarded outside Greece over their casual disregard for international norms of conduit.

As such, she tried to keep the conversation short. "I simply was not the smartest in my class, Saint Virgo. I assure you there were many during my time much stronger than me, as well." she humbly assured.

As if to drive home how little the Virgo cared about acknowledging the importance of her position, Shaka took this cue to make another impertinent question instead of pushing it down a notch. "Really? It almost makes me awe at how you've survived the war, much less rise to such a high status."

She stared at him pensively again. The answer to this was simple. Everyone else of worth of the time got massacred, including Asmita.

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

It was the eighteenth century. They had successfully returned to Jamir with both Tenma and Asmita. Now Yato, Tenma, Yuzuriha and Dragon fought to protect the Spire from the Specter attack so the Virgo could finish blessing the 108 beads.

But just as they declared victory over the Sylph Specter, an ember-filled gust coursed through the valley as the winged shadow swept across the stone bridge. The blow came with unimaginable force, shooting Yato straight through the crowd of injured Specters to Tenma's arms, making the two crash against Jamir's walls, shaking the entire spire. Screaming their names, the Dragon Saint and Yuzuriha rushed ahead to block the stone bridge. They had to protect Jamir, and by extension Asmita, at all costs.

Perched on one of the rocks overlooking the bridge, Cait Sith Cheshire hissed instinctively, but tried to calm down, understanding that the person floating into the battlefield was his ally. "The Prince… Prince Michael is here!"

Flapping open a pair of armored wings made entirely out of very realistic-looking black feathers, the man in black and grey Surplice, golden hair and cursed red eyes set foot on the bridge, facing off its defenders with a deadly look that froze their souls into place. Yuzuriha was shocked and grew pale, having never felt a Cosmos as terrifying as this one in a human, not since their run into Alone in the Underworld. It felt like falling into a fiery pit of darkness where one's skin would burn off, and one's very spirit would be clawed at by the stretch of a burning abyss.

Even his fallen Specter allies shook with fear, swallowed up in an atmosphere whose temperature seemed sucked into the beautifully carved angel armor plates to feed an invisible, all-consuming fire. This was their version of the man closest to God, the Right-Arm of Hades, and the man's eyes seemed fixated on the spire, not even registering their presence.

"Yuzuriha, don't lose focus!" Dragon appealed, embarrassing her with his bravery. If they lose even one ounce of concentration, they may be immediately annihilated.

Sylph Edward, fallen on the bridge, saw the Prince and felt both great fear and great elation for the incoming victory. "P...Prince M-Michael…" he managed to drag himself to him and grabbed the Absolute Star's greave. "W-we've done our best, b-but Asmita is s-still al- GHYAAHH!" he screamed, fingers suddenly ignited into a black fire from merely touching the Specter's armor.

Cheshire dropped down from his perch and gulped. "The imbecile touched the Prince… doesn't he know this is the Cosmos that has beaten even Lucifer? It's foolish to be around Absolute Star when he's about to battle."

The scene unnerved Tenma, who helped Yato get up from their crash, his Unicorn armor cratered right in the chest just from having finished an attack on one of the Specters. He felt cold, though, when the red eyes locked straight on him. "T...They're just like mine… W-WHO ARE YOU?!" he demanded to know.

With Tenma still there and sensing Kagaho flying at full speed towards Sanctuary with Lucifer in tow, Michael recalculated the plan's proceedings.

"I'm the one who will now destroy all hope Sanctuary has to oppose the Emperor." His wings then suddenly burst ablaze, and feather-shaped embers flew around his arm towards his hand to then suddenly spread to the sides in the shape of a bow and arrow of pure, infernal cosmos which Michael pointed at the spire. "First this tower, then the Gold Saint inside, then his precious beads of sealing…"

Tenma and Yuzuriha gasped, their immature 7th senses screaming. "T-This power…," she stuttered.

Dragon's blind eyes widened, and his watery cosmos exploded. "No! ROZAN!" the roar of a dragon was heard, and he thrust both hands forward, "HYAKU RYU HA!" With powerful energy tempered by a lifetime of battle, Dragon's whole body exploded its power in the shape of dozens of huge watery dragons which bombarded the enemy, engulfing the entire bridge in a geyser that tossed the fallen Specters down the ravine and made Cait Sith flee for the perches like a scared cat.

Cheshire grabbed his hair. "No way!.. That attack was immense! Did they take him out just like that?! What kind of Bronzes are these?!"

Shiryu then turned to her. "Yuzuriha, get Tenma out of here! NOW!"

They gasped. "S-Shiryu!"

The huge water cloud immediately turned to hot steam which furiously whirled over, indicating the internal threat to be alive and well. Tightening his grip on his shield, the Dragon Saint bided his resolve. "I don't know what threat this is, but I sensed his killing intent far surpassed a desire for just Saint Asmita. I think Alone sent this man after Tenma, too!"

"A-Alone?" Tenma's wine-colored eyes shook as they all fell victim to another one of his former friend's vicious schemes. "N-no."

"It is true." an echoing voice declared, to which a blinding flash of light burst next to Dragon to bring forth none other than Asmita, already carrying the necklace of 108 Beads shining with the letters of the seals. His eyes were still closed, but his face stared in the direction of the white cloud the enemy lied in. "He has sent a mighty enemy after you this time… I cannot guarantee your life if you stay."

"Asmita!..." Tenma stood in place, paralyzed. It was not in him to abandon his friends. "I… I can't just run!" But a silver fist then suddenly struck his head, knocking him out.

The barely conscious Unicorn did his best to stand up despite his injury. Yato was shocked and rushed to them. "Yuzuriha, why did you do that?!"

"We have no time to deal with Tenma's stubbornness!" the Lemurian girl replied.

"Take these to Sanctuary, Crane. Athena depends on you now," Asmita spoke as he gave Yuzuriha the beads.

The cloud of steam eventually was blown over by a flap of wings, revealing the black-winged angel alive and well, just a bit soaked by water laced with emerald lines of Cosmos.

His bow and arrow had been doused, though. "Foolish Bronze Saint… where did you learn such a powerful technique?!" he reeled, still feeling the blunt impact of the one hundred blows.

Asmita stepped forward. "Dragon is the least of your concerns now," he warned, standing protectively over the Dragon Saint.

"Kick his ass!" Yato screamed at them, just before he and Yuzuriha fled off the distance.

As they ran, Yuzuriha had a bad feeling about this. The powerful Specter didn't identify himself and his star, but also was letting them go without shooting arrows or sending more than Cait Sith after them.

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

This had been the last time Yuzuriha had been with Asmita. Unfortunately, the terrible feeling she had as she retreated panned out as truer than she could ever have imagined.

Abandoning him and Dragon to the fight against the mysterious Specter had ultimately cost the life of the Virgo Saint. She had not seen the rest of the battle, but Dragon's testimony spoke of brutal things, and although the Specter was temporarily taken off the War by Rikudo Rinne and Dragon had lived to protect Athena another day, it forced the Virgo Saint to pay the ultimate price. While things had started off confrontational with that Virgo Saint at the Blood Waterfall, he had ultimately proven himself a fantastic, wise ally who put his life on the line to protect his fellow Saints and merely wished to test them during their trip to the Underworld.

While it was a bit of an unfair comparison, and while most of the Virgo Saints that came after Asmita didn't have a chance to prove themselves as virtuous, she still felt a bit disappointed in this one for being so blindly adherent to such a rigid set of behavior. "We all have our perks." she finally answered. "I proved to be a good secret keeper. My people value this quite a lot."

It was a bit hard for Shaka to read the karma of Lemurians sometimes. Their value system was so different from that of humans, per say, with all their guilt and stress, while the suffering of Lemurians stemmed from things that were not telltale signs that someone was lying.

Who knew that being mostly unconcerned with human affairs allowed you to be quite carefree in life?

As such, he took the Elder for her word. "I see. Maybe you can personally enlighten me someday about why I sensed so much tension between you and the Pope, then. I apologize if I seem impertinent, but I just don't take lightly to someone doubting my ability to protect this place."

"Ah, so that's what this was about. Shion has been feeding your ego too much," she concluded, careful to hide her thoughts. "If that's your concern, then I appreciate you escorting me down, Saint Virgo, but I think me and my brethren will be making our own way down from here," Yuzuriha cut short. She was not about to share her grievances with one of her oldest friends with a six years old boy, no matter how elucidated he thought himself to be, especially one secretly driven by his own bruised ego. "I'm afraid you'll have to ponder your doubts in meditation. Thank you, and goodbye."

Walking out of the Temple that housed his garden, Aphrodite, dressed in his casual clothes, was just in time to watch the procession walk by. "You can walk through, but if any of you clowns steps on my garden, I'll send a full bouquet of roses to your destination, got it?" he tensely warned. Something about their stoic, spiritualistic-looking attires reminded him of Elisa.

The Tibetan guards barely registered this with a glance, and Yuzuriha even smirked provocatively, reminded of Albafica's tantrums, before they made their way through Pisces.

Aphrodite then saw the weird blonde boy from the House of Virgo watching them leave. He had this sick look on his face like someone had just chopped down his ugly meditation trees. "Well, did a cat get your tongue? Usually, when you show up, you have some quip about my life."

The provocation did not affect Shaka in the slightest. "You should feel honored that I find your choices in life interesting enough to comment on," he advised. "The bloodiness in your intents and the suffering you cause in yourself over it is-"

But the cyan-haired boy snorted unimpressively. "Why don't you go back down to your garden? Nobody asked you to chime in." he venomously answered, before going back inside. "And try not to shove your nose too deep into the affairs of everyone on the way, too."

Left standing at the stairs, Shaka's mouth was dropped. Was everyone in Sanctuary just so rude and ungrateful?

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Underworld,

First Prison, Acheron River

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

"Two hundred years is a very long time, oh yes oh; I ferried back and forth in this cursed river; Since two hundred years ago;" sang Acheron Charon, the Celestial Spatial Star, rowing his boat with his oar across the wide-spanning first river of the Underworld. His red-goggled eyes saw the occupant was not enthused. "Come on, your Honor, let's sing the chanty. They hung a man for making steam; Oh yes, oh. They cast his body in the stream; Two hundred years ago."

The young teenager, however, was not in the mood to entertain the Celestial Spatial Star. What happened at the Styx swamp was still on his mind, not to mention Zelos' testimony indicated that they had traitors among them wishing to rebel. He should have forced the Terrestrial Weird Star to gather more information, but at the time he didn't want to believe even someone like the replacements would dare to openly seek revenge on their True Star betters, at least not with Thanatos around.

To make things worse, Aiacos was just getting back from the Earthly Castle, where Pandora had just made a big show of under-handling his concerns.

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

"Replacements? Seeking vengeance on you?" she queried, resting her fingers on the harp strings.

Aiacos nodded obediently. "Yes, milady. My source is dubious, but after observing the behavior of some of them, it may have a grain of truth," the Garuda Judge said, referring to his earlier altercation with Behemoth Torak.

Her reaction to this was truly puzzling. At first, she nervously fidgeted and looked away, like someone who felt her already worrying work pile doubled, but then she shook her head. "And why must I be informed about this? Can you not root them out on your own?!"

This had not been his intention. "Of course, I merely meant to inform you because it could mean someone more dangerous could be inciting them. To conspire against our brothers is like conspiring against yours! To encourage such an affront..." he appealed.

"I swear, what is Lucifer doing? He was supposed to have disciplined these people!" Pandora grumbled to herself, pacing around the room. She could not give her brother the impression that she was not in control, but on the other hand, seeking out False Specters that would likely get reaped by Thanatos as soon as their counterpart Stars awakened seemed like a waste of resources. This all sounded like a military issue, which wasn't her responsibility. "Inform the Prince immediately. If they are getting out of control, we may have to eliminate them all sooner than we thought."

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

The Celestial Valiance Star did not question the wisdom in relegating the task to the Prince, but sometimes Pandora's tendency to trickle down situations away from her gave the Asian Judge the impression she was out-of-touch with the practicality of things. While he did not harbor the hate Rhadamanthys had for her, Aiacos could see why the woman was seen by Wyvern as a waste of space, as he too felt perfectly comfortable managing his Prisons without her. It frustrated him more in situations like these where something underhanded was going on, and Pandora did little more to deal with it other than tell him to "ask someone else about it."

Ask someone else he would. "Acheron Charon as the Celestial Spatial Star, you have served these generations of Specters for a long time, have you not?"

The boatman was so surprised at being suddenly addressed after so many hours singing to himself that he nearly dropped the oar. "Wha? Oh… yeah, I've been here for a bit, hye, hye, hye!" he chuckled.

Aiacos cringed at his coarse laugh. "I heard some… disturbing rumors and wished to ask you… if you've seen the replacements ever rebel, even the slightest?"

The red-goggled man stared at the Judge. This was a strange inquiry, considering how dismissive he and his fellow True Stars were of the false fools that served Lord Lucifer. "Why do you ask, your Honor?" The Garuda gave him a don't-waste-my-time glare, though. "Yeah, there's been a couple of… issues over the years."

"Why is that?" the Judge questioned. "Don't they believe the Emperor will reward them? Don't they think themselves the real Specters?"

The rower chuckled. "Hye, hye, people are really good at telling they're being given the shaft." He saw the Judge wasn't convinced. "Those fools don't have to know the first thing about what makes you a real Specter to be able to tell we don't respect them. I've gotten away with calling myself Spatial Star to their face, but you can't get away with disdainin' people for long. Eventually, they will pick up the coffee smell and snap… like those other guys did two years ago."

Aiacos was unaware of this. Zelos was telling the truth after all. "So they have rebelled once before?"

"Once? AH!" Charon mocked. "The Bennu and Shaman replacements took a whole Skeleton regiment with them, and it wasn't even the last time we had defections. I know because Lord Lucifer punched my teeth in for making light of the whole thing." he then showed off a broken, yellow molar. "Shee thish?!"

"Turn that away or I'll finish what Lucifer started!" Garuda demanded, disgusted.

Charon rubbed his own tense mouth after another round of singing. He had gotten most of his jaw fixed since that time, so he didn't understand why people were so sensitive. He did sometimes still feel some worrying clicks of bone inside. "Not in a good mood, eh, Judge Aiacos?"

The dark-blue haired youth rested his chin in his fist, gazing off at the ghastly river. "Not indeed."

Audiences worse than this had been on his boat. "Heh, heh, heh, I'll take your bad mood over Lord Rhadamanthys' fury. His response to my chanties is usually to kick me to the river and fly the rest of the way, even if he gets lost for hours in this mist."

Watching the man quiet down and focus on his oaring gave Aiacos pause for reflection. Had Wyvern really tried to brave the Acheron's stretch on wing glide alone? While the dark swamps of the Styx coursing between the Fifth and Sixth Prisons were also dangerous, the Acheron was known to only be safely crossed with the rower's guidance unless you had special movement powers like Pandora or the Nasu Specter. This was because its stretch was so vast and its deathly miasma was so intense that even one's 7th sense would completely lose track of where to go and you'd exhaust yourself swimming or flying and be dragged to the depths by the dead that failed to cross over.

This was some distaste for music that Rhadamanthys had, for him to be willing to brave such waters. Everyone in the Underworld knew they had to deal with Charon's singing every now and then; it was just part of daily life in the Underworld. He imagined that whatever False Specter had been in place before Charon also had to move everyone back and forth. "I'm surprised you hold no resentment over it, Charon."

The boatman shrugged his shoulders. "If I get my pay, you can do whatever you want to me."

Aiacos' interest was piqued. "Really?... What if a Saint tried to cross through here?" he joked, but Acheron just chuckled, indicating something that made the youth almost jump in alertness. "You'd let them through?!"

"Of course I would." Acheron flatly answered. "I will let anyone through if they got gold and silver to give me. That's my job."

His jaw dropped. The image of Gold Saints casually purchasing passage across the first great river line paled him. "What? But you're a Specter!"

Acheron eyed him like he was a fool. "Lord Aiacos, the dead are dead and I charge you and the Prince for passage as well." he pointed out. "The Saints can't cross the Earthly passage without dying. Why should I deny them their payment?" he then chuckled to himself. "I like to think of it as their cost of waging war with us, hye, hye."

While he had half a mind to scold this man, Aiacos then understood it would be of little use considering that he didn't entirely disagree with what Charon had just said. "You make me shudder at what depths you'll sink to get your next coin, Charon."

The fanged boatman suddenly frowned at him. "Oh, giving me a morality lesson, are ya? Listen Aiacos, you may be a Judge -" he growled, going as far as waving a spare finger at Aiacos. "But to me, that ain't half as scary as dealing with the Prince for as long as I have, so you can take your high horse and clop it right into the river, kid!"

If Aiacos was at a loss for words before, this time he was genuinely appalled, not only by Charon's lack of respect for one of the three Judges but also for the weird emphasis he put into saying his name.

The Judge's eyes narrowed. "If you think so, then maybe I should fry your brain from the inside out to teach you-"

"Spare me the threats, will ya?" Charon dismissed, focusing on his task. "Nothing you do to me changes the fact that I'll have to be the one to get you out of this river. My barge, and my barge alone, rules in the Acheron. There's only one person in the whole Underworld I'm afraid of, and we both pray to him, Judge Aiacos."

Once again, the rower shocked Aiacos. How many times would his orders be disobeyed that day? First, the Behemoth replacement slicks himself out of shadowing him, then Zelos tells him an insurrection may be on the way, and now a bona fide Celestial Star repeatedly ignores him and his threats.

There had to be something to this, so the Judge decided to take a cooler approach. "How long have you been here, Charon? When did you displace your replacement?" he asked. Now that he thought of it, Charon looked a bit too old to have come around the same time as Rhadamanthys.

"I didn't," confessed Charon, smiling so slyly his fangs nearly poked out. "Hye, hye, I never actually died during the Lost Canvas."

Aiacos was skeptical. "I don't believe you… How could that possibly be?! The Saint at the time even had beads numbered to seal us up in that blasted waterfall rock!"

This was one of Charon's best stories. It still made him smirk ear to ear. "Simple. After I carried those foolish Saints over to Alone's precious sky fortress and they all got petrified… they just sort of forgot about me, hye hye hye!" he mocked.

The Judge was visibly at a loss for words, sitting there on the barge with a dumbfounded open mouth. The idea that the Saints, the greatest enemies of the Specters, would let Charon slip their minds during their onslaught on the Lost Canvas and the Underworld sounded like a parody of neglect, to the point that Aiacos couldn't tell if Charon was lying or if he really was the luckiest survivor in history.

The rower could tell he was having a hard time believing it, so Charon elaborated. "I didn't put up a fight and took Athena's payment to cross the river, so they never felt the need to come back for any bad blood. Then, when Lord Michael got defeated, rest his soul…" Charon prayed, taking a short moment to kiss his own gauntlet in memory of the lost Prince. "They just sort of counted 108 victories on their stupid beads anyway and never came back to double check."

"You're over two hundred years old?!" Aiacos gawked.

"What, you think my chanty was just cute hearsay?"

The confusion in the Judge's face was understandable, though. Charon's skin was grey and aged, and his teeth looked animalistic, but he didn't look too aged. "How is that possible?"

Something about the way Aiacos looked so surprised hinted the reason to Charon. "You do know we stop aging once the Surplices bind with our souls, right?" he asked. "The same is gonna happen to you once you hit your prime… Specters aren't supposed to be replenished, after all. We're the chosen pure souls of Hades."

Aiacos grabbed his chin pensively. "So you've just been here in the Underworld since way back then?" How interesting; the Judge was conversing with someone who likely had interesting secrets about the previous war.

The goggled man scratched his red hair, counting the time. "Yup… just me and Lucifer, that is. I kept things flowing here at the Acheron while he just mostly scurried around, trying to keep everything else from falling apart." He then remembered the most important thing. "Oh, and Lord Hades, of course. His spirit never really left Giudecca either."

Something about this didn't make sense. "How did you just survive a whole all-out war? The Saints had to go through you, forth and back."

Acheron chuckled. "Well, I mean, someone has been getting the dead through the river these last two centuries despite the huge mess they caused here. It's their own fault for not checking."

The whole thing was so baffling. It was hard to believe that the entire Underworld was abandoned to just two men and Hades for generations upon generations. "How do you have the patience? How did only the two of you keep everything together?!"

"Ah? Have you looked at this place?" Charon queried as the shore barely began to become visible in the distance. "Has it looked like any of the Prisons kept their shit together with 99% of the army dead and sealed? It's been total chaos. This happens every time we lose a war with Athena."

"Perhaps you are right… but Prince Lucifer fights on, does he not?" he brought up, taking comfort in there being an example of a faithful servant of Hades, toiling on across the decades of limbo.

But unfortunately, Charon had a wisecrack at this too. "The Prince?... I don't know which Prince had it worse; Michael who died fighting a losing war or Lucifer who got stuck with this mess afterward. They're admirable, don't get me wrong… but Lucifer knows he doesn't stay for the excitement of it."

Garuda got up in a rush, making the boat shake. "Then, why does he?!"

The Spatial Star irked and stirred the barge still with his oar. "Hey, watch it… Eh, he stays cause he's got nowhere else to go, just like me. All we've ever known is the Underworld! At least that's my opinion…" he confessed, scratching his chin. "Tsk...This is why I don't believe in any of it, Hades forgive me. Fighting the surface has caused more harm than salvation. If success is measured by how many souls we cleanse for reincarnation or Elysium… then we've been screwing up badly. The gold makes me much happier than the 'Calling'."

Letting all this information sink inside his head, Aiacos couldn't help but recalculate everything he thought he knew about the Underworld, the Specters, and himself. Perhaps this was why the Behemoth Specter had no wish to shadow him; being more experienced, Behemoth Torak knew that even the blessing of a more privileged member wouldn't change much about his unfortunate situation.

Still, there ought to be something he could do to make himself a great Judge. "I'm not interested only in fighting the Holy War, Charon. I also want glory for the Specters, including you."

For once, the surprise was on Charon's semi-masked face. "Really?"

"Perhaps I cannot do much by myself to ensure Lord Hades' triumph before so many Gold Saints," admitted Aiacos, sharpening his hungry eyes. "And perhaps Rhadamanthys has taken the initiative already in going above the call of a Judge to try to impress the Emperor, but I am not quite so rash. I will make plans with meaning, not thirst for glory."

"Oh, that's pretty interesting." confessed the rower. "What sort of plans, your Honor?"

"The replacements, for example," he exemplified, pointing to some of them on the shore as they gradually approached it. "They are doomed to oblivion, but it does not mean their sacrifices have to be in vain. If I apply myself to thinking of a grand design for them, even their meager contributions can be shaped into a great blow to Hades' enemies."

This was an impressive boast, even to the aged Charon. "Eh, maybe you can do that… personally, I think they're screwed, though."

"What makes you so sure?"

Charon cackled "Hye, hye, hye. This is to say these… False Specters, as Prince Lucifer calls them, aren't exactly a new experiment…"

Aiacos blinked. What? He was sure that Hades had made use of these poor fools as a last resort to mend the damage from the Lost Canvas War. "Explain yourself."

The barge finally approached the dark-sanded shore of the path leading up to Minos' Hall of Judgement, the First Prison. Charon roped his vehicle and stepped aside to allow the Judge out. "Well, your Honor… simply that this isn't the first time, the Emperor has resorted to these kinds of services. There's a lot you don't know about the Underworld's history yet, hye, hye, hye. Some things more interesting than others."

Garuda narrowed his eyes. He took out an extra payment and flipped the coin at Charon, who greedily caught in the air like a jumping dog. "Here. Now speak!"

Charon's ugly fangs bit the coin with satisfaction. "Alright, alright… Well, your Honor, have you heard of... the Suikyo Incident?" he then let the name of the event shake Aiacos to his very core, taking delight in the shocked expression of one of the Three Judges that once commanded the whole army. "I take it from your expression the name rings a bell, HYA, HYA, HYA!"

The feeling of the atmosphere around them crushing Aiacos head in as the name echoed in his mind was felt. The Garuda Surplice, carrying the memories and powers of his previous life, seemed to scream in unison with Aiacos' soul as if an open layer had been peeled off. Images of himself fighting people in golden armor one after the other invaded his vision, and so did of a woman wearing the Behemoth Surplice, but all Aiacos could do was grab his head, wincing and wishing to make the confusion stop.

He shook his head. "W-what is the meaning of that?!" the Celestial Valiance Star demanded to know. His gauntleted hand grabbed the grey-skinned man by the throat and lifted him up despite the difference in height, "TELL ME, YOU SELLSWORD!"

Acheron choked and gasped, but he had poison left in his tongue. "Gh-ghye!.. Meaning?! It has no meaning, that's the point!"

The Judge staggered. "What in Hades' name are you saying?!"

"You should give up your silly ideas of honor, kid! The Underworld will give you none of it back! In fact, they got you killed in the last war! If you want to help the replacements, then let them do what they are here for and die!" he was then tossed to the ground in rage by the Judge, knocking off his helmet and revealing his half-bald head. "Agh… M-minos has you beaten in that regard; h-he's barely been back for a few years, and he already understands what he's here to really do! No silly notions about treating the doomed with respect!"

Aiacos watched him scurry to grab the coins he dropped, coughing out from his sore throat. He shook in anger so much he could barely muster what to say. What absolute nonsense! No honor in the Underworld? As a Judge, he would decide the fate of sinners from a whole third of mankind. He and two others alone had been entrusted by a great god for the task, and while he had his differences with the overzealous Rhadamanthys and the unrepentantly cruel Minos, Aiacos still believed in the virtue of the rank he was given, were he not one so high up the food ladder, just below the Prince himself.

Yes, he could call on the Prince for an example of carrying out his task as a Specter just as Aiacos idolized. While what happened with Rhadamanthys' expedition to the Alpine pass was suspicious, Aiacos had an inkling it had been in service of ensuring all three Judges understood that, despite all their high power, there was a bigger fish in Giudecca who had more experience deciding the best course for Sanctuary than all three of them combined. He was centuries older than Charon and surely knew better than the casual cynicism of a mere boatman.

Realizing he lost composure, Aiacos took a deep breath and straightened his pose. "We'll see which Judge's ideas truly prevail…" he vowed to the Spatial Star.

"He, he… you should watch your back instead, your Honor." advised the rower Specter. "Or the replacements will hang you by the rope you give'em."

Aiacos took heed of this warning but walked away. "I'll get to the bottom of all this even if I have to go to the Emperor himself!"

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Sanctuary,

Gemini Temple

Later at Evening

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Having just picked up Aiolia from school, the Sagittarius Gold Saint patiently waited just outside Saga's meeting room, where they had once discussed with Lance how to proceed regarding the first court with the prestigious families of Sanctuary. This time, however, they could hear that Saga alone was facing a hoard of beasts inside, namely the second most important sector in Sanctuary's society, the religious men and women of Athena.

These included maidens, not unlike the deceased Elisa from the Pisces shrine at the Isle of Garden or the ones often seen tending to children in Sunday schools and Sanctuary Orphanages, and priests, like the one Aiolos and Lance saw giving the funeral to the soldier that was killed in action during that Black Saint situation in California.

While not adorning a golden ring to enshrine their power or holding the Saints accountable in their games for power and prestige in court, these people were not necessarily much easier or pleasant to deal with.

"So you think you don't have to answer to the Zodiac on this?! What if we suffered a major attack?!" Saga's voice protested, trying his best not to let out what really happened during the Festival with the near assassination of the Pope in his own Halls. "You want to keep a huge blindspot open for the sake of templar secrecy!"

Outside the door, Aiolos could hear a male voice, that he didn't recognize, respond. "Many of these people swore vows to Athena herself, Saint Gemini, and don't have such privileged access to His Holiness. We are at your service, but perhaps you should consult someone else for answers to the Zodiac's issues."

There was then a hand cough from a second person. "And after what was done to the Cyrulian Knights… we have our reservations about giving the Zodiac such visibility."

"It's also sacrilegious to even suggest our institutions could be used to put His Holiness in danger," a feminine voice, likely a Maiden, added. Aiolos imagined she blessed herself too to add extra indignance with how offended as she sounded. "We may not be saints in name, but we work every day to find and nurture Athena's chosen."

Aiolia tugged at his older brother's pocket. "Hey, Aiolos, is Saga in trouble? All those people are pretty angry."

The Sagittarius Saint petted his hair and smiled comfortably. "No, they are just giving him the business, is all."

The little boy scratched his head. "Are they gonna give you the business too?"

He chuckled. "No, it takes too many steps to get to where I am."

The voices continued. "Saint Gemini, if you forgive me, the Zodiac is too intrusive. We are happy to collaborate with you, but all these requests to enter our affairs… Saint Akassius never felt the need to-"

"Saint Akassius is no longer in charge! He hasn't been so for many years! It's time we take charge for what is going on in Sanctuary," Saga snapped, making Aiolos irk and wonder if it would be a bunch of priests instead of the nobles that would make him reach the end of his patience. Nothing pissed the Greek Gemini more than being compared to his predecessor. "In less than fifteen years, we will be at war with Hades! That's right around the corner, in case you have not noticed. The troubles Black Saints caused Akassius will be peanuts compared to that!"

This time it really seemed like Saga was the one making things harder. Even young Aiolia seemed upset, sensitive to the stress the adults gave off. Aiolos tried to think of something to say to comfort him, but couldn't think of anything. Maybe taking the chance to see Saga off his meeting on their way back to their Temples for the night wasn't such a great idea, but the two of them had known him for the longest. Ever since the old Gold Saints retired, they barely got to see their oldest friend anymore.

"It doesn't mean we should make radical changes." A Hellenic priest suggested. "What you are suggesting here is a further fusion between the Zodiac and its Sees for the sake of control to justify your side. It intrudes on our rights to rites and paves the way to wiping out syncretism, promoting more antagonism towards the Holy Father. This may come as a surprise to you, Saint Gemini, but not everyone in Sanctuary prays exclusively to Athena."

"I don't want to ban the worship of Apollo at the Hospital chapel, I just want more strictness in your admittance rules!" Saga practically shouted. "The Lemurian Elder was here today asking for more scrutiny, and the golden ringers in the colonies accepted the Pope's demands to new dictums! Nobody thought it would lead to complete submission of rights or anything of the sort! Why would this be any different?!"

"Because, first, one unacceptable request inevitably leads to the other, and second, we are servants of Goddess, not family or coin." a Maiden explained. "We will abide by the Holy Father's word, but not with his intrusion. Besides… Athena is on her way, very soon to reincarnate. Black Saints are the least of our concerns."

In the tense bit of silence behind the doors that followed, Saga's jaw could almost be heard dropping. "... WHAT?!"

"Aiolos, I don't understand any of this. Even Mu makes more sense than these people." protested the young Leo candidate, putting back on a pillar.

Aiolos sweated. "I don't think I do either, Aiolia." He then pulled the boy aside from the hall when he sensed the group inside about to leave.

When the doors opened up, rows of people dressed in togas, light maiden dresses and orthodox Christian robes passed by them, some giving him slight nods of acknowledgment but most just passed through in a hurry. Aiolos tried to see if he spotted the priest he saw at the funeral rite, but he failed, then assuming these were more high-end clerical representatives.

When Saga himself came out, clad in full Gemini armor, Aiolos could tell through his sigh that he wished he could send those people to another dimension. "Rough meeting, eh?" Sagittarius asked.

The masked Gold Saint turned to him. "The fifth in a row today, but these were something special." he bit.

Aiolos chuckled "How bad could they be?"

"Very. Men and women of the staff in Sanctuary make those "old Maidens" we had in the Heart of Sasha look like patient and rational creatures." Saga quickly cut, prompting a cringe in Aiolos. The 'of the staff' term was a reference as to how their pendants sported a circle shaped like the Staff of Nike, in place of a Christian cross. "The Athena worshippers are more interested in reviving Hellenism outside Sanctuary and building more pillars and statues to Herakles than keeping things running here, while the Christian ones not only start all sorts of fights with the 'pagans' but continuously clamor for more funds and representation inside. They are all grotesquely negligent. A terrorist group of former Gold Saints is actively conspiring to kill the Pope using inside agents, and those druids think that if we just wait for a baby to come from the sky, everything will be fine."

Young Aiolia frowned, having never seen his brother's friend like this. "Maybe you should take a vacation, Saga."

After a surprised pause, the Gemini laughed and patted the boy's head. "I wish." he then turned to Sagittarius. "Did you come here for something?"

"One or two things, yeah. Let's walk?" suggested the teen with the red bandana. "First I wanted to check on you cause things haven't been easy since we had to rise to fill the old Saints shoes. You're clearly overworked, Saga, are you sure it's healthy to keep taking care of the whole Zodiac by yourself? Like you said back there… Holy War is just around the corner." Aiolos pointed out in a whisper, trying to not say such a dark thing within Aiolia's earshot. "It's not gonna be nearly as easy for us as it was for Akassius, Daniel and the others before us, Civil War or not."

The Gemini Saint was hesitant. Never in his life, he had or wanted to depend on others for anything. Kanon made him afraid of it. "I'm fine...I…"

Aiolos patted his shoulder. "Come on, we're a team. This isn't like training or the Sisyphean Challenge. If you need help, just ask."

Saga nodded slowly. If only he could talk about it to Aiolos. "I will think about it. What was the other thing?"

"Aiolia, come here! We're about to go," the Sagittarius called, to which the Leo stopped fidgeting with the doorknobs to the closed-off rooms. The big brother tried to focus on the topic. "Sorry about that. Anyway, I wanted to ask you about the Pope's sudden decision to send men to Peloponnesia. That's the place that guards the frontier to Hades, right?"

This sounded familiar to Saga. "I heard of that. Yes, Saint Aguilon was here a couple of weeks back," he recalled as they walked with Aiolia through his temple's halls. "Why do you want to know?"

The Sagittarius snapped his fingers. "So that's why. You see, he's actually been staying here since then. Aguilon has left the Peloponnesia post entirely."

Saga's blue eyes widened. Typically the habits of Silver Saints were not his concern, but high-ranking ones like Aguilon were borderline as important as the Gold Saints themselves. In fact, the Herakles Saint had been acting erratically since the attack on the Pope, often commenting about the female Saint that Kirin and Daniel fought in Andromeda Island. Now he was shifting around from the station he had stayed at for two years?. "... You think it was a call from the Pope?"

"Oooh, we saw him visiting the nice blind lady at Rodario, Saga! Aiolos took me there today, even though the mean doctor said not to." Aiolia squealed, embarrassing his brother. "Saint Herakles is so huge! He's like Aiolos times three!"

Saga blinked. "His family, maybe? When I was going through everyone's files to find the mole, I happened to notice something about a daughter on his, but it had an obituary clipped to it."

Aiolos doubted this very much, especially with the stories fed to him by Iaso. "I think Aguilon originally rescued her and her friend. Maybe he just wants to say hello."

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Meanwhile,

Rodario

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

With his helmet respectfully rested in his hand, while sitting in a big steel chair that he would bring with him for visits to avoid breaking any of the host's things, Herakles Aguilon gave space for Cerah to help Eurydice sit down.

"I've meant to come here for over a month, ever since I heard your friend woke up, Miss Eurydice." confessed the giant. "Unfortunately I had to make a very stubborn boss happy with a favor from the Pope, which took a while to secure. I was hoping to catch your friend, so I guess I came at a good time."

"It's fine, Saint Aguilon," she assured, shaking her head. "You're always welcomed here. I owe you so much."

Cerah just stared at him tensely, though, having never seen such a gigantic person, much less met the man per se. Aguilon was so tall that he had to crouch over almost in half just to get through the front door. Especially with his helmet off, he looked like a museum of scars, hardened muscles and grizzly hair, a testament of a lifetime fighting for Athena that awoke vague memories in her about the fanatic knights of Cyrulia from a long time ago. She had just come home from a job where she cleaned a local lord's house when she found the colossus wandering their street. Being the person trained and entrusted by Lucifer to protect Eurydice, it unnerved Cerah to stand before the man that, for all intents, covered for her big failure.

Her combination of shame and utter gratitude nearly drove her to tears all over again. "Me too… I can't believe you're the one I can thank for saving Eu...for saving both of us." she carefully confessed. It was essential to give the impression that she was a normal girl, as opposed to a super-powered bodyguard.

Suspicions regarding this are precisely what concerned Aguilon, whose hand reached down his pocket to grasp the compass engraved with Tarot symbols he took from the Gryphon Judge corpse. For two years, he had delayed this day, thinking he could question them with a clean conscience if the other girl happened to awaken.

Now the chicken had come over to roost, and he ran out of excuses. "I'm glad you both have your lives back to normal, but I can't say I came all the way from Austria just for your delicious tea and cookies," he declared, immediately making the younger girl get tenser and on guard. Cerah's reaction fueled his fears. "I like to think of myself as a wise old gorilla. Part of why is because I understand that people have their secrets and sometimes ignorance is a bliss, which makes me think… that maybe you two were lucky to run into me in more ways than one, am I correct?"

The nervousness in the younger girl was palpable, whose fingers tensed on Eurydice's chair protectively and throat gulped almost imperceptibly.

The blind, older woman considered her next move, knowing Cerah wasn't ready to deal with this situation. "What do you mean? Everyone has secrets, Lord Aguilon, but not all are dangerous," she argued, trying to sound like an average person as much as possible. "I don't like talking about what was done to me, but it doesn't mean I'm a threat, I swear."

Aguilon stretched his tense fingers. "Do you really think I'd be curious about what kind of punishment those bastards put you two through?" he confronted, trying to sound calm so they wouldn't feel threatened. "Let's make one thing clear here, Miss Eurydice, Miss Héloise… if I had an inkling you two were some sort of threat to Sanctuary, I would have not hesitated to finish the job that the Judge started."

The tense silence that followed denounced the fear in their hearts. Cerah, in particular, felt how they were in no position to argue against this man, verbally or physically. She had finally woken up, and they were already busted.

Eurydice didn't give up. "But you didn't finish it, so I don't understand why you're acting so strangely," she appealed, turning her face down in regret. "You've always been very kind to me, Saint Aguilon, more than I deserve. I don't wish to question you… but what has changed? What have we done wrong?"

This was the moment of truth. "A good question indeed, Miss Eurydice," he then took out the compass and laid it on the table.

Cerah's face went as pale as Pandora's. Her numb mind, still partly recovering from the coma, suddenly reeled at the sight of the object. It's needle spun, shaken by the movement, and made her thoughts spin as well, returning to that dreadful night and the sound of Gryphon Urial's voice as he questioned her, strung her up with his technique and showed her the object that allowed him to track Eurydice down. She covered her mouth when a panicked gasp tried to force its way out.

Sightless, of course, Eurydice was simply confused by the sound of the object. "What was that?"

Aguilon watched her closely for any signs of recognition. "A compass, Eurydice," he explained, keeping one eye on her and another on Cerah." I'll describe it for you. It's made of wood, has a red needle on top of a cardinal rose with symbols like those fortune teller cards you see at a carnival, yet it always turns in your direction."

The confrontational description further unnerved the Cyrulian girl, but the Nymph just frowned confusedly. A tracking compass sounded like the kind of trick Hypnos would pull. It was a long time since the dangerous chase. Eurydice felt so safe in Sanctuary that the idea of a tracking device made her chuckle.

"Oh-oh, it amuses you, uh?" asked Aguilon, raising a brow. This was a slightly relaxed response.

Eurydice's hand searched for the object and felt it out. "It does. It tells me those Specters were more insane than I ever thought." she flatly confessed. If there was one thing she had learned from her sweet silver-haired Prince was how effective deceit was when it played with the truth. "I mean… They made something like this just to catch me if I ran?... ah, I'm happier than ever that I got away from that awful place."

Cerah widened her green eyes. Of course, this was a great way to explain it!

She tried to play along. "They must have tagged you or something? It sounds exactly like the kind of thing disgusting slavers would do," she turned to the Silver Saint. "Saint Aguilon, this just proves you did a bigger favor for us than I even thought when Eurydice told me what happened. I can't thank you enough."

Aguilon's eyes darted between them. The two girls sounded so direct and relieved it almost felt real. He wasn't satisfied with this alone, though, so he turned to the younger one to test her "What about you, Miss Cerah? Do you recall the object?" he saw her wince. "Take your time, Iaso told me you might have difficulty remembering things."

The Nymph turned to her, knowing poor Cerah was probably giving all kinds of nervous signals. If they could just count on the Saint's assumptions about Specter lunacy, then maybe they could bury this trail. "Did you see them with this, Cerah?"

While she hesitated for a second, Cerah then deduced that her friend was cueing her to follow her lead. "Y-yeah… I think I remember just before I lost consciousness, the big one with wings had it." she shivered further. The struggle with Cyclops and the pain of the blow Urial dealt with her felt impossible to forget. In fact, they felt like they both blotted out most of the rest of that frightening night. "Sorry… the last thing I remember is being… attacked while we ran."

Sensing everything falling into accordance, Aguilon was left argumentless. The order of the events checked out, Eurydice seemed pretty honest with her answer, and it was reasonable to think Cerah's fearful reaction was due to associating the object to the men who beat her up so horribly. Either he was losing his lying-detector touch, or Eurydice was one of the most deceptive players he had ever come across.

Getting up so clumsily that he almost hit his uncovered head on the ceiling, he felt relieved and embarrassed at the same time. Maybe it was that he didn't want to believe two victims of such horrible people had something to hide, too, but the older woman with just a few words managed to make him think he held on for two years to the stupidest paranoia he ever had. "I… I see. I'm sorry, Eurydice, I had to ask both of you. I swear I didn't mean to upset you, but I had to ask about this strange compass."

She shook her head. "It's fine, I'm just... surprised you held onto such a twisted thing for so long, Saint Aguilon." Eurydice further worded, hoping maybe this would put the idea in the giant's head to destroy it.

"W-well, if you excuse me, then. Have a wonderful day." Aguilon embarrassedly wished, taking the compass and leaving.

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Accompanying the giant out of the sickhouse, Cerah felt like she could breathe a sigh of relief. Another hurdle had been overcome in earning the trust of the Saints and ensuring Eurydice could live a normal life. She had completely forgotten about the strange object Urial had used to track the Nymph, but fortunately, the former bride of Thanatos was adept at convincing men of anything, apparently. Even Cerah felt like the story she told was so obviously logical that it just cemented their little lie about being regular Sanctuary dwellers that got caught in a tragedy.

She then took a moment to watch the huge man put his helmet back on to contemplate the beautiful armor. Just like her sister Daese with the Aquila armor and herself with Corvus, Saint Aguilon wore a Silver Cloth, but an 'original' one, or rather one that still used a Cloth Box instead of a Cyrulian Cloth Stone like her obsidian pendant. This one was asymmetrical, though, possessing different arm protections and an uneven chest plate bracer going over a single diagonal angle, unlike her elegant Corvus or Daese's dashing Aquila which were Light crafted into personalized shapes. "Will you be around, Saint Aguilon?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Like I said, I pissed off a very mean boss to get to visit you two and ask these things. Don't misunderstand me, I appreciated the hospitality, miss, heh, heh." he guaranteed, tapping his metal chest. "But now I see I should have stayed put," he lamented, wondering what kind of rant Ionia would vomit out if the foot soldiers he got for him weren't good enough to justify his absence.

"Mm, mm, sorry to hear. It sounds like a rough life," Cerah commented, sympathetic. If Lucifer's training was any indication, just getting to Silver-rank in time for your fourteenth birthday was a gauntlet of crying, pain, humiliation, and stress of superhuman levels, so this veteran hero that took on a Judge must have quite a reputation.

But the herculean man's huge finger then tapped her subtly muscled arm. "Something tells me you wouldn't have as much trouble adapting."

Her eyes widened and froze, and her hand instinctively covered her hard lean muscle. "That, um…-"

"I had no idea training programs in places as remote as Arcadia were so effective," the Silver Saint poked, narrowing his eyes. "So you two may really be victims of Specter shenanigans and have every right to be here in Rodario… That's perfectly fine. But you're certainly not a poor untrained farm girl, Miss Cerah." He closed in on her rather menacingly, measuring the sudden fear in her face. "I wasn't born yesterday."

She stepped back, feeling the shadow of the colossal Saint swallowing her, but tried to stand her ground. "... what if I am trained? What's the problem?!"

This just made things worse, though, because it indicated the level of ignorance the girl had about Sanctuary affairs. "The problem is that Black Saints get the can, miss. Straight to the Stardust Tower," he reminded, triggering further confusion in her. "Your mind may be fuzzy from the coma, but I don't think anyone in Sanctuary would blink an eye at its law regarding people developing Cosmos unsanctioned.

"What?!" she gasped, her mind reeling all over again. Black Saints? Prison? What was this all about? What kind of laws were these? "Saint Aguilon, you can't be serious. So you'd just throw me in jail for having Cosmos?"

Aguilon pulled back, raising chin. "That depends. Who trained you?" he explained. "In fact, never mind who trained you, cause if you don't know about these things, then it's proof enough that either A, your memory loss is bigger than even Iaso thought, or B,... you and Eurydice are from nowhere near Sanctuary. That Alexis girl lied to us and you two really are keeping something from the Golden Zodiac!"

The sudden raise of tone from the Silver Saint caught the attention of passing villagers, further pressuring Cerah. All her battle bravery couldn't help her in a situation like this. What was she going to do?

Her fists clenched, and her eyes looked down, unable to face the herculean Saint. There really were very few options, wasn't there? "Leave Eurydice out of this, this is my problem."

The giant folded arms. "I figured as much." he calculated. Cerah was obviously the weaker link of the two in terms of words, which was part of why he was glad she accompanied him outside where he could question her away from the Nymph. However, there was a chance the older woman was not involved in whatever was making this girl give a suspicious vibe.

Maybe it was the circumstances in which he found Cerah, having been so needlessly beaten by one of the three Judges, or maybe it was because her fair skin, curly blonde hair and particular northern features which reminded him of that Aquila Black Saint that Daniel tried to send flying in Andromeda Island, but something was off about her. Even more so than Eurydice who, despite her stunning beauty and strange medical record, at least didn't have the toned strength of a Saintia, especially considering the two-year coma her body endured.

It was time to pull the rug from beneath her feet. "So what's your real story? And try not to lie again," he recommended.

She looked back up at him, finding her bravery just as the pit in her stomach dried out of nervousness. "I wanted to kill the Pope."

Herakles blinked. "Excuse me?!"

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Andromeda Island

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

In the second worst training ground, night had already fallen, bringing in the freezing temperatures. The steel shackles and chains that had kept the two students ganged together for a whole month were now cast aside to the edge of the main cottage, a reminder of the difficult Elysium Leap they went through. Much to Shinta's unending delight, Albiore and Elda had managed to survive, crossing the deadly peaks with their well-timed, coordinated jumps resulted from weeks of exhaustive practice.

Over a month later, the Andromeda Saint was still showing signs of relief and excitement, especially towards Albiore, with whom he was practicing now, playfully launching his Andromeda chains at the blonde boy in a variety of patterns to get him to dodge.

Sitting at the table, after dinner, with her new student, Cassiopeia Cynthia showed Elda the notes for the tests she would have to take. "See here, Elda? It's not so difficult, you only have to memorize these dates here."

But the young, short-haired girl in training gear and scarf pouted. Looking out the window, she saw Al' practicing with Saint Shinta. "This is boring… Why do I have to take tests now? Can't I just spar instead to get my grade?"

The masked woman leaned back from the notes. "You two are switched up in these programs, aren't you?" she concluded, remembering Albiore had excellent written scores but lower physical skills while Elda was pretty much the opposite but had to run for an academic path. "First of all, you are more athletic than most, Elda. You got 10 straight wins on Albiore last week. Secondly, everyone has to take tests, but if you don't want to wear a mask, you can only be a Saintia or a foot soldier of extraordinary circumstances. While Olivia, the leader of the Saintias, screams at everyone within earshot that she wants more investment from Sanctuary, you only get to be one if you can apply yourself to their prestigious school. This means a lot of studying."

"Pres...tigious." Elda muttered, pensively. She wondered if this was the place those other girls from her year, like Katya, had applied to.

The truth was, Elda didn't like the idea of wearing a porcelain mask on her face like Saint Cynthia. It looked pretty suffocating and had all sorts of disgusting rules attached to it. Making a a guess that beating those snob girls on their own turf was good motivation, she puffed her cheeks determinedly and tried to concentrate on her history lesson.

She tried to apply herself and reread the pages. "Okay, so… in the year 1000, the Pope died, and we had the First Civil War and...ugh, I can't remember!" she yelled, grabbing her hairs. "The bad guys won but everyone celebrated? I can't memorize all this cause it's all so complicated!"

The Cassiopeia Saint patiently took her hand and set it back down. "Don't worry, one at a time, but learning about the Athenian Empire is kind of an important part of Sanctuary History tests." Cynthia took a notepad and wrote. "Here, there's a poem from my day that we used back when we were studying to memorize the dates."

In the year one thousand and one,

that was when the war has begun.

Then in the year of one thousand and two,

the Saints broke into the Pharaoh's tomb.

Before back to home by one thousand and three,

Midgard gave us a raiding spree.

Then by year one thousand and four,

the Battle of the Giant Square was remembered forevermore.

Elda pouted, imagining a whimsical tune to it but staring at the length. "Saint Cynthia, it's still WAY too long!" She was so confused. "And isn't it Asgard?"

"There are three more verses."

"Whaa?!," she gawked. She felt like her eyes could spiral out of their sockets at this.

Cynthia chuckled. "I told you getting those good scores wouldn't be easy." Nobody in Sanctuary, except for those pompous aristocrats, liked learning about its history. Aside from the Holy Wars, it was mostly fighting for political ideologies that wouldn't interest a farmer's dog. "We thought about making a comic book for subjects like history, to make it fun for kids to learn some of our stories, at least… but we can't even get an artist that draws the cloths accurately and consistently."

Elda tapped chin with her pencil. "Al' likes drawing… if he has such good marks, then maybe he should do it."

"Or maybe you can focus a little harder," the Amazon suggested, putting the book back in front of her. "Come on, Elda, only five more exercises."

Outside, Shinta launched another round of chain attacks to make Albiore dodge. While the kid put a lot of effort into it, jumping, ducking, rolling to the side and bobbing to avoid the strikes, many metal links still grazed and cut him, even when Shinta reduced his speed. The green-haired Saint's kind instinct told him to slow down even more, especially as Al turned into a sweaty, heavy-breathing mess, but his new teacher side worried about the effects of coddling the child.

The blonde boy tried to focus. He had to catch up with Elda's stats! Spinning his practice chain defensively but feeling the sweat close one of his eyes, Albiore could just sense how much Saint Shinta was holding back on him for the sake of fairness. He thought the hardest part of his training was done with the Pretest. He barely survived jumping across the chasms, chained to a mean tomboy prodigy, who brutally humiliated him in every physical contest.

All of a sudden he heard the whirring of Saint Shinta's chain and he instinctively leaped to the left to try to swing his own back, but a metal link wrapped around his ankle, pulled him with a yelp and dragged him through the ice cold sand to Saint Shinta's feet.

The Master lightly stepped on him to signify a pin. "Al', you were open on your left side. You can't keep relying on your basic senses alone to tell where the chain will strike you from."

"I-I d-don't' t know how else t-to do it!" he gasped, rolling over on his hands to get off the cold grains.

Seeing that his lungs wouldn't stop heaving for air, Shinta got down and helped him up patiently. Holding his chest, though, he sensed his nerves to be too tense.

"You're not relaxing, that's why. If you got through the cliffs, then you have cosmos in you waiting to come to the surface. This means you'll improve your senses too. It's okay, we have a bit more time than when you had to take the pretest." He helped the boy take a gulp from the canteen, from which Al' drank copious amounts of liquid. The Andromeda Saint remembered sparring as a trainee. It was bad enough practicing chain battling as it was without being in one of the driest deserts in the world.

But Albiore was so frustrated with the difficulties that he wouldn't listen. In fact, he wished Saint Shinta would stop giving him such abstract hints. "Can't you just tell me how you do it?"

"Gosh, he's such a whiner." the Andromeda Cloth complained.

"No." the green-haired Saint flatly answered the boy, ignoring his own armor and making Al fume even more. "My way wouldn't work on you, Albiore, it wouldn't work on anyone else other than me, because it's not a method, its…"

Albiore raised a brow. He really had the feeling Saint Shinta had no idea what he was talking about. "Well...?

But the Master hesitated, struggling to describe it, and tried to think of what Master Guardnia would say, but Shinta then remembered he took a long time to awaken his pink cosmos so maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

As such, Shinta tried to have a bit more confidence in his own wisdom and come up with his own explanation. "It's more like a drive, willpower, something that gets you going." He then pinched Al's arm. "It's not about muscle, it's about courage and a deep, deep desire to change the world, something that… might make you more brilliant than the average star. For me, it's as easy as wishing for a better outcome, almost like a prayer."

The blonde boy pouted. "I think the make-yourself-explode was a better explanation, and this was from the dumb kids at the Gift of Alone…" he silently mumbled. If it had been Elda, she would have just screamed these thoughts at Master's face and then started punching walls till she got it. "I'm not sure if studying for all those tests was worth it if they don't get me any closer to punching through a rock."

Shinta frowned, Albiore was keeping his bad thoughts to himself instead of confiding with him again. While he would never pry on someone else's mind without their consent, lately the young Saint has found himself envying Aries Mu's cheeky mind-reading powers very frequently. Elda was a breeze to get an opinion from, but she would have to go her own way with Saint Cynthia and eventually finish her training in Switzerland since she decided to become a Saintia. Albiore was stuck with him, and he was a shell that was almost as hard to pry open as Lance.

What was this tendency Shinta had to get paired with this particular type of person? He wasn't lying to Albiore about his explanation, either. Shinta firmly believed all Saints had some sort of deep passion that individually allowed them to tap into the Cosmos with characteristic 'prayers.' It just changed with the person in detail, from wishing to save someone all the way to just wanting to really get back at someone for dumping you in a mountain. It took a degree of irrationality to do it, which was why kids, especially with good genetic intuition, had an easier time unlocking it.

Albiore, however, had trouble grasping it. This could be from any number of reasons, none of which Shinta would be able to help by being an impatient teacher, or so he believed. "Maybe I should ask Elda about Albiore for anything that might not be on his record since they spent so much time together." He patted the boy's hair. "Don't worry, I'll help you find your path. Once you get the objective in your head, you'll have an easier time pushing yourself to the limit."

The Argentinean boy grumbled quietly. He wished he could push this annoying guy off a cliff, maybe that could be his drive.

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Meanwhile,

Rodario

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Back in Greece, staring at the staggered giant, the young blonde Cyrulian girl wondered what motivated her to make such a fatal mistake. Maybe she would regret saying such a thing, but lying to this man clearly was only digging her grave further.

Drawing from what had been stuck in her throat for years, Cerah decided to double down. "I grew up a pretty... angry person, Saint Aguilon," she embarrassedly confessed. "My sister abandoned me to a strange man so she could go fight some war I still don't know anything about, and I was left to survive in a place that could barely be called lifeless," she described. She surprised herself with the spite in her own tone and feeling small tear beads try to squeeze out her eyes, which reddened as she looked away, from talking about her sister like this. "I didn't know why she would ever leave me… I'm her younger sister! Yet all the memories I have of her is of her resentment and obsession, which I can only guess our parents put into her."

The aged Silver Saint was taken just a bit off guard, not expecting such a tale, but he got himself together and tried to calculate its veracity. Cerah looked just about young enough to have been born in time for the Civil War, yet not too early enough to understand what it was about. At the time, Saintias and Amazons had been called to support the men, as well, and Priam's motivations for causing the war had been especially divisive to the women who fought for Athena, as they involved his wife.

Could this sister had been one of those Saintias or Amazons? "Where is she now?"

And Cerah's teary eyes suddenly narrowed. "I have no clue… she just did whatever she thought was right. I had no input in her decisions. I…" She then gulped with how painful this was to admit. "I don't even know if she's alive or if she misses me… n-nothing at all!"

Aguilon took out a handkerchief and lent it to her. All the time, he watched for the slightest sign of dishonesty. Cerah mentioned parents that likely put obsession for waging war into her sister's head. This could indicate many things, like an aristocratic origin, which pushed its kids into being Gold-Ranks and justify their social standing, a situation not too uncommon in Sanctuary, or a family with long term resentment towards the Pope, which is what he assumed this story would likely lead to.

Peasants, much like Alexis' family exemplified, weren't keen on pushing their kids towards being Saints, especially with the difficulties they went through and the high accident, crippling and suicide risk. But if Cerah was so young and left alone, what kind of assumption was this to make about her mother and father? "Okay, can you tell me why do you think your parents are at fault for your sister's priorities?"

She wasn't caught the least bit off guard, though. In fact, Cerah squinted harder at him like she hated her folks. "How many girls do you know that would abandon a baby with a stranger to go fight? I can just tell someone brainwashed her!" She then wandered her reasoning off. Memories of her own innate instincts as Cyrulian awakening in the battle against Cyclops and Gryphon haunted her, making her fear she would fall one day to the same madness. "Besides… I didn't want to believe it was her choice to be like that. I still don't… I can't picture myself making that kind of call. It just isn't right!"

Once again, the pure, simple frankness and humanity in this was the most significant indicator of truth to the experienced giant. It was perfectly understandable no kid would want to accept that a big sibling could be so neglecting, no matter what they did. The signs seemed to point towards Cerah being just another victim of a situation out of her control, like everyone else in the world.

The secret Cyrulian continued, glass-eyeing the streets of Rodario. "That's why I've been so sad and mad at the same time growing up... and wanted to do things like killing the Pope." she ridiculed to herself, kicking a pebble on the road, and looked at the giant waveringly. "Silly, right? I thought it would bring her back…"

Herakles nodded along. It was a broken illusion of the girl, then, that likely prompted her into training. It wasn't unheard of in Sanctuary. Guardnia, for example, trained to get the Cepheus Cloth cause he mistakenly thought it would clear the smear Priam put on his name, while the former Scorpio Saint, Paris, was rumored to have gone missing due to disillusionment with the role of a Gold Saint. It was pretty intuitive to Aguilon, based on her body language, that she had no intention to follow through such a stupid, childish idea, relieving him.

But motivation alone didn't explain her deceptively advanced condition. "What about that guy who took care of you?" he queried. Maybe he trained her, in which case he would be a person of interest.

She took a deep breath, recalling the one person she spent most of her life with. "He was… a friend of Eurydice. It's how we originally met; he presented us." Cerah immediately responded. It was the truth, after all, so saying it came pretty naturally. "I haven't seen him in a long time, but he taught me the cosmos and how to train… I didn't think it would cause me problems in Sanctuary."

Aguilon scratched his bearded jaw. "Unfortunately it does… Sanctuary frowns on independent training like that. It leads to problems like Black Saints," he explained. "It didn't use to be this way, not till the war from ten years ago. You should tell me his name. I might have met him."

But this hardened the girl instead of intimidating her. Revealing she was trained by a Specter was a death sentence. "Sorry, Saint Aguilon, but no. He's not obsessed like my sister, but he doesn't like Sanctuary either." She shook her head, resolutely. "I owe you so much, but my debt to you is small compared to him. You may be my hero, but he was like a father to me."

The combination of comparing Aguilon to a hero, a personal weak point that the old Greek enjoyed basking on, and the display of commitment impressed the Silver Saint, who raised his chin and nodded. "Mm, mm, alright… where can I find him, then?" he insisted.

Resisting the urge to bite her lip, she then came up with the most brilliant answer. "Somewhere along the margins of river Styx, Saint Aguilon."

"Oh… oh!" Aguilon muttered, putting two and two together.

A faint nostalgic smile appeared on her face. "He was a very proud person… he didn't want to take care of a whiner like me, I could tell… but he did, and that's more than I can say about Daese." she confessed. It was indeed true she might never see Lucifer again, considering the risks his plans involved.

Crossing finger on the jaw, fear crept up on Aguilon as he took in the name. Cerah and Daese, two girls of Frankish names from a family that likely imbued them with fighting values and a grudge towards the Pope. This all sounded… very Cyrulian. "If this girl is some kind of refugee from the 3rd War, it would make a lot of sense and explain a lot of her circumstances. She has no idea how lucky she is that Kirin retired, too." He ran his hand over his head. "And the Lightcrafting girl that fought Daniel that had the Eagle Cloth… she must have been one as well."

His indisposed mood must have been visible because Cerah picked up on it. "Saint Aguilon?"

"I have no idea what to do." Aguilon pondered to himself, genuinely concerned. "A warrior may I be, but I'm not insensitive to the damage war causes on families, Miss Cerah, I… can see why you would harbor such thoughts."

Cerah tried to decipher if this meant she was in the clear. "I don't really want to harm anyone, Saint Aguilon." she laid her arms flatly. "But I don't want to be powerless anymore, either, especially after everything I went through." In fact, she didn't even come to terms yet with how she flat out failed, no matter how much Eurydice said otherwise, to keep her promise to Lucifer.

A possibility popped in her mind to ease his. What if she took a gamble? "Do you... think I should become a Saint?" she offered.

Looking back and forth between the girl and the sick house, the old warrior tried to make his decision. Something told him Cerah had no intention to storm through the Twelve Temples and really just wanted to live in peace with herself after a series of awful experiences. With tensions piling up at Peloponnesia's frontier, it is evident that these two couldn't just return home. Moreover, he would need Iaso's help to continue monitoring Eurydice in order to rid the two of suspicions, nothing of which sounded like would be benefited by antagonizing or even detaining either of the two.

But if Cerah was really Cyrulian by birth, this raised some ethical issues which he wasn't sure he had the brains to tackle. The demised faction had been blacklisted since the war when they took the side of Priam's rebels, but it didn't mean Cerah had to be blamed from her parents' crimes, especially after the destruction Sanctuary and that pompous freak Aezrel put her people through. It wasn't fair to put them in the same basket, but he wasn't sure if it was safe not to, either. If Ionia had been in his shoes, he would likely immediately detain her. If Pope Arles was, Aguilon didn't even want to think about it.

To add salt to the wound, Aguilon, of all people, had personal reasons to resent the Cyrulians. "No, you're too old. Forget about getting used to a mask; it would be challenging to prepare you for a proper Path of the Cloth," the giant explained, shaking his head. "One kid we tried to push through the system like that was six years younger than you, and he ended up on Death Queen Island. There are exceptions, but they are extremely rare."

Cerah wasn't sure what he meant with this, having never heard of such a place. She tucked her obsidian pendant. "Then what do you think I should do?"

Aguilon rested his hands on his belt, thinking about it. "Joining the army on the eve of war season is definitely not it!" he amused himself. "It may sound discriminatory, but young girls like you shouldn't be in these forces, especially these days. I'm fine with the Amazons cause they clearly wouldn't want to do anything else with their lives," he argued, personally admiring their zeal to Athena. "But we lose enough young men in these conflicts to add the women in too."

An odd sensation mixed between relief and regret was felt by Cerah. It was good, to know that by offering her services and vow knowing it was likely to be turned down, scored some free points with Aguilon, but… how would her life really be as a Saint? The training would be fine to adapt to, and she even had her Crow Cloth with her at all times. Maybe she should just get this idea out of her head because of how difficult it would be to explain a request to move her armor out of a magical rock into a magical box.

The old Silver Saint felt awkward with her sudden silence. "Sorry, miss, I didn't mean to bum you out, but not everyone is invincible like me, ya know? I can't exactly recommend my lifestyle with confidence, heh, heh, heh." he elbow-poked her.

She smiled. Although he spoke of sad things, Saint Aguilon had an energy to him that uplifted her. "I suppose… I'll find another way to be useful and do what's right," she argued, laying out her arms. "Becoming a Saintia was the simplest thing I could think of, considering what I can do. Eurydice put that idea in my mind one day, and now I find myself always thinking about it."

Herakles shook his huge hand negatively. "Forget it," he recommended. "I'm not saying you're incapable, but it's not the safe path everyone thinks it is."

Staring at the man in wonder for denying so many similar options, Cerah couldn't help but conclude he was trying to hide something himself. "I'm sorry if you suffered any loss, Saint Aguilon."

He eyed her slyly. "You're sharper than you let on." he commented, shaking his head.

Cerah hesitated, realizing this was a delicate issue. "You don't have to talk about it."

Answering her was a good opportunity to test his theory, though. "It's fine, I pushed you to spill your guts so it's only fair I do some spilling of my own. Also, the bad side of being a celebrity is that if I don't say anything, you'll eventually hear it from someone else." He then scratched his bearded chin, trying to think of the best way to start this story.

The girl folded arms, wondering what kind of secret such a crazily strong-looking person had to make him get so quiet.

Taking a deep breath to recollect his thoughts and, breaking his usual positive outlook, the Silver Saint's expression sombered as he began his tale. "I lost my two daughters, the first one back in 59. She was beautiful like her mom, kind, intelligent and brave…and above all normal, which is a quality around these parts." Although he then had a moment of weakness reliving this, he discreetly glanced away before he focused right back on the topic. "She had nothing to do with any of these intrigues and conflicts, all Partita really wanted to do in life was watch her Lone Ranger episodes and… become a Maiden… she really was set on doing that kind of charity thing."

Cerah's mouth let out a sympathetic oh. "You mean a maiden like those at the Church for Athena? How could someone with that kind of path… walk into danger?"

Aguilon clicked his tongue regretfully. "I didn't lose her in that sense… You see, life was never fair enough for my oldest daughter. It never is in Sanctuary for children out of wedlock."

She blinked. "Why not?"

He nodded his head regretfully. "Cause the politics of this place will eat you up, even if you're a strong Saint… sometimes because you're so strong, and Partita had to endure a lifetime of scowl from strangers. But then, she grew up, became an adult… and people frowned even harder upon a bastard hooking up with the Saints…. I didn't defend her when I should have, and Partita walked out of my life. I've paid the price of her absence since." Aguilon enumerated, then looking off to the horizon as if wondering where his daughter was right then.

The pain in the giant's voice was palpable, especially considering how confident and perky he usually was. "I'm so sorry, Saint Aguilon."

He dragged his huge foot, hands in hips. "Eh…I tried to make it up with her younger half-sister," he told Cerah and himself out loud. "-the one from a real union, as people called it here. I made sure to do everything I could to stay by her side and not repeat the mistakes of the past..."

Cerah, however, already knew where this was leading to. "But it wasn't the last of it, was it?"

He shook his head in agreement. "A couple of years later, I had to go through it again. My younger one, unlike Partita, was a Saintia, barely at fifteen, the age I made it to Herakles." He then snorted with a chuckle. "I thought she would be safe as a 'maid,' since Saintias stay in the back row, ideally, to guard Athena and her secrets."

This piqued Cerah's interest, who was reminded of Eurydice's words before the battle with Cyclops' Skeletons, calling Cerah brave and saying maybe she would make a good Saintia in another life. "A Saintia?... Saint Aguilon, do you mind me asking why she picked such a life?"

He held his chin. "I think… she didn't appreciate her dad being such a shadowing figure in her life. I was already sort of known back then, you see, and younger siblings always feel shadowed by everyone, so she studied and trained to become a Saintia and make something unique of herself other than her surname."

"That's… kind of amazing, Saint Aguilon." assured the teenage girl, smiling sympathetically. "What Cloth did she get?"

"It was Eagle." Aguilon revealed, freezing Cerah in place once more. "She became Silver just like me. Not very unique, all things considered, I know, but she had her reasoning to it and the day she got Aquila was the day I learned never to look down on the gals again, hah, ah, ah!" he recalled, nostalgic. His hands rested on his hips again. "But then… she had to go fight the blasted war. With Athena not around, Saintias don't have as many excuses to not be in the frontline and those damn Cyrulians… caught her off guard and took her Cloth for one of their damn magic stones." Before the memory of it could depress him, though, he saw Cerah's shocked face and eyes tearing up. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to delve so deep."

Cerah wiped her eyes, but couldn't get rid of the fast heartbeat. Eagle? Oh no, this was the worst possible one. "I'm...I'm fine."

This over-personal sensitivity was precisely the sort of reaction he feared she would have, as it proved Cerah had some degree of investment into the story of the Cyrulians. Things just got a whole lot harder for him.

"I'll be going, Miss Cerah. Be sure I'll keep an eye on you two. If you need any help and can't contact me, talk to some of my useless Herculean Guards. You can spot them pretty easily in the crowd; they're the ones wearing the armor add-ons that make them look like circus beast masters." he joked, sufficiently just enough to make her smile out of the tears. He waved and walked off. "I'm off. Athena be with you."

"Likewise." she wished back. As soon as Aguilon turned the corner, though, Cerah felt like her heart sank. "Aquila… Eagle… that's Daese's Cloth. She has it in her Diamond Stone, I'm sure of it. That's my sister's armor!" she recalled, heartbroken. "Was this poor man's daughter killed in action to give her the Cloth? Did Daese herself kill her?" she grabbed her blonde head and shook it. Her anger and confusion got so intense even her Light cosmos shined briefly around her, and the Crow Cloth in her pendant pulsated in response to her stress. "I hate this all so much, I wish I could just forget about my damn family, those damned castle walls...I wish I could forget about D-Daese, but I want my sister back, too! W-what am I going to do?!"

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Meanwhile, in the Underworld

Giudecca Palace

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

In Hades' magnificent palace in the 4th Circle, the Dark Prince Daemon Lucifer sat at a window-side table with a chessboard where he used to study under Thanatos, a long time ago, surrounded by maps, papers, and tools for strategic planning. A delicate glass of wine twirled in his fingers while he pondered which piece to move against his invisible foe, made to look to onlookers that it represented Sanctuary and the twelve Gold Saints by putting up a queen, a king, two bishops and about ten pawns as enemies, respectively representing Athena, the Pope, the Libra and Virgo Gold Saints and the rest of the Golden Zodiac.

From the shadows of the window's curtain, Nasu Erika stepped forward and silently placed the paper piece with Greek letters on his table, knowing the Palace's walls had ears. A single magical Underworld butterfly of Papillon Ainsel also entered through the window and landed on it, delivering complementary information. Lucifer nodded at the Nasu Specter, thanking her for the status update, and the bug-armored woman bowed obediently and took to the shadows.

A large clock on the wall ticked away. Eventually a knock on the door was also heard and the Judge of Antenora, Garuda Aiacos, was allowed inside, approaching his superior.

Aiacos took to his knee before his lord. "Prince Lucifer, thank you for receiving me," he greeted, looking up at the bat-helmeted man. "I've heard… disturbing news and wished to confide."

The Celestial Star of Pride swirled his wine glass cup, red eyes fixed on the large curtained windows to outside. "Go ahead."

The black-haired youth shook on the inside. It had been a tumultuous day, what with Behemoth, Frog and Charon's words. Doubt still beset him regarding the Spatial Star's secrets, but perhaps he could discuss them with the Left Arm of Hades. "The False Specters, my Lord. They wish to attack their betters." he began, immediately gaining the Prince's attention away from his drink.

He tensely got up, unfurling his black cape. "Who is your source?" he shouted.

The Judge couldn't blame the Prince; order in the troops was his direct responsibility, as Minos had pointed out, so getting this kind of information was in dire need of evidence. "Frog Zelos, the Terrestrial Weird Star," detailed Aiacos. He saw the look of skepticism on Lucifer's face. "He has a bad reputation, I know, but... Charon verified some of the things he said to me."

The Prince chuckled. "Charon, of course…" he repeated, somewhat pleased, like a suspicion of his was confirmed. "Do you have names? Instigators? Leaders?"

Aiacos shook his head. "No, but my Prince, if a rebellion is in the works, I will find them out!" he vowed.

But Lucifer approached him pensively and gestured to hold his horses. "There might be no need for that.." he guaranteed, taking the Judge by surprise. "The time of the replacements may soon be at an end."

The Judge eyes widened, taken by surprise. "What?"

The Prince gestured him to rise, to which the Judge obeyed. "I told you last month at the meetings, didn't I? The construction of the outpost was merely a setup to allow for the conditions necessary for a sustainable assault. Who do you think will be involved, with the True army yet to fully return?" the red-eyed warrior asked. "If you've been scurrying around for rumors, you must have taken the time to notice the state of the Prisons."

The Celestial Valiance Star contemplated this, and soon he realized what the Prince was saying. With the repairs of the Prisons complete, the Underworld could afford to go without as many Specters. In fact, just last month their near-completion had been used by Lucifer as justification to begin to move groups of False Specters to work on and be stationed at the new outpost.

But was it truly the time? "How many real stars have returned by now?"

Lucifer's hand burned with dark Cosmos shaped like a cloud of black smoke. "Let's take a tally, shall we?" with a sudden flick of the wrist, the energy flurried upwards to the ceiling, painting on it an illusion of the Underworld Sky, on which the 108 Evil Stars were presented. Lucifer pointed at the ones that shined brightly, as opposed to the opaque ones. "Daemon, Garuda, Wyvern, Gryphon, Harpy, Minotaur, Sylphid, Acheron, Shaman, Gorgon and Balrog… these are the True Specters that have been revived and returned to their Emperor already."

"Just eleven… out of one hundred and eight," counted Aiacos. "Not a very encouraging number. I suppose it's to be expected, considering the seal will only completely evaporate more than a decade from now."

The Prince, however, had a counterpoint. "We may be small in number, but we have most of the critical components already." he pointed out, more experienced. "The important thing at this stage is the Circles, not the Prisons they contain. The Pyramid of Gluttony, for example, needs a Sphinx Specter and, unfortunately, Neferti lives while Pharaoh is yet to awaken, but it belongs to the First Circle, which Minos rules over."

Garuda made a quick recount. "Mmh...Charon at the Acheron and Balrog at the Hall of Judgement will make Minos' job easier too… and I have Harpy to govern the Woods of Suicide and Minotaur to watch over the Labyrinth, but I don't have the True Lycaon to maneuver the raft across the Styx," he concluded. "It's true that many of the more dangerous Prisons have their True Specters returned, but I still predict a lot of instability without the replacements."

But the Prince was inflexible. "You will have to make due for a while; Rhadamanthys will also rule over the Third Circle with Minotaur's aid at the Labyrinth. You're also not accounting for the many Skeleton Soldiers that have in the meantime also been restored. Right now, the False Skeletons number only in the few hundreds. They are dying out as we speak." he estimated. "In conclusion, we have more than enough True manpower to manage the Underworld through brute force for a few months before the rest of the real Specters begin to reappear."

When put like this, the conclusion seemed cruelly clear to Aiacos. "Lucifer, are you saying that…"

The Prince nodded. "The time to exterminate the replacements has come. Soon, Thanatos will run out of patience and start to eliminate the redundancies. The Evil Stars must have their true chosen back as soon as possible."

Aiacos staggered. The feeling of an anvil being dropped on his stomach, hitting him. Already? Just this morning he was contemplating making something of them, and now Prince Lucifer says the fate of the False Specters was to be shortened?

He therefore intervened. "There must be something we can do to honor their efforts… perhaps they can continue to aid us-"

"What do you suggest, Aiacos, that they share each Star?" Lucifer mocked him, pointing out the ultimate factor in all this. "We can't have more than one Specter per Surplice any more than the Saints can have more than one worm per Cloth. There's a reason we don't let the replacements call themselves Celestial or Terrestrial Star."

But the Garuda Judge somehow felt that even this ought to be questioned. Something about the inflexibility of who got to be a Specter didn't feel right with him. "Is there truly no other way?"

Lucifer's red eyes squinted. "Mm, I'm surprised to hear that out of the mouth of a Judge."

Aiacos refused to fall to such stereotype. "Just because of what we do?"

But the Daemon's answer then surprised him. "Not exactly, more so because of what Minos does." He proclaimed, raising his hand to summon an illusion of the Celestial Noble Star, Gryphon Minos, working at the First Prison, the Hall of Judgment, writing sentences for the dead on his large grimoire. "Do you know what that book he works on is?"

Aiacos nodded. "Yes, it's the Book of the Dead." He detailed, pointing at it. "When the dead pass through, Minos and Rune look up their names and sins, allowing them to then sentence the profligates to a Prison."

"It's more than that, though. The 'Book of the Dead' is also the codex of the Underworld, our Bible." Lucifer explained, then making the book stand out in the illusion, open up and flip its pages at intense speed, coursing through a specific section where the famous Spells of the Underworld were detailed. "Our law is made through its Spells, Hades' declarations of rules to the Underworld. Through the Book of the Dead, we can have you Judges and even me, a Prince. More importantly even, it is Thanatos' toy, his divine weapon."

This, the Garuda was not aware of. "You mean… his equivalent to the Emperor's sword? Or Poseidon's Trident?" he asked, to which he got an affirmative nod. "I see… no wonder it is such a powerful object, but what does this have to do with Specters?"

Snapping his fingers, Lucifer made the book in the illusion stop at a certain page, where 108 names were listed and indexed, names that Garuda recognized as the Evil Stars of the Underworld. Three extra names were clipped at the bottom, namely the two Princes and Pandora. "Specters are removed from the natural cycle of life and death… We do not age, nor do we really ever truly die, and the Virgo Saint would not recognize us as part of his pretentious cycle of reincarnation. This is also because of the Book of the Dead, which has us removed from it, in a separate page, as if to instruct Death itself that we are Hades' chosen, at the same time binding us to a Star. In a way, it is in the 'Book of the Dead' that the Emperor defines who is a Specter."

Aiacos rubbed his chin, feeling some cogs turning faster in his mind. "I assume Lord Hades therefore wrote the name of the replacements attached to ours in the Book in order to create them, in this generation and the past one…"

Pride Star scoffed, inferring the meaning of this last comment. "And I see Charon has been slipping secrets about more than just this era's False Specters."

Garuda nodded. "Indeed." This deeper understand of the False Specter condition then made Aiacos realise on his own why it was so problematic to have an army twice its normal size. "I can see why bloating such a perfect artifact with imperfect definitions would create cosmic confusion… I suppose the fate of the False Specters, as you call them, really is sealed."

The Daemon was perceptive to his anxiety, squinting. "You seem upset."

Aiacos gulped. He wasn't sure why he was sympathizing with these people. As a Celestial Star, a Judge at that, he should be above this. Yet, he could not help but feel this was incorrect, even for the Emperor. "I think I am, Prince… they devoted themselves to our cause, after all," he confessed.

Lucifer's eyes closed in reflection. "Mm, mm… you were always the softer of the three," he commented. He knew very well the reason for this, though. "Michael always appreciated that in you more than I did. It's foolish to feel sorry for them, not unless you want to question your own worth as a true Celestial Star."

Aiacos' arms laid flat. This was something else that was bothering him. "Prince Lucifer, I would like to ask something else, if you please." he requested, to which Lucifer responded with a high-browed look. "You have been here for half a millennium, fighting for the Emperor for the last two Holy Wars, so you must have met my previous selv-"

"There's no such thing as 'previous self' for Specters, remember that." Lucifer cut, stern. One of his pride points was how, unlike Saints who reincarnate or even simply replenish, his service and work stemmed across the same life and identity as a Specter, after all. But more to the point, the Prince wondered what was on the Judge's mind. "What do you want to know? Where you died last time? I could tell you, but your Surplice is likely to bring those memories back over the years."

"My memories as a Specter, as Aiacos, indeed… but not as whoever I was born as before awakening Aiacos," the Garuda Judge explained.

The Prince folded his arms. "You can't seriously be concerned about the dingy life you had in Nepal."

The beak-helmeted youth shook his head. "Of course not… the day the 'Dark Calling' brought me here was the day my life took meaning," he confessed, certain of what he had to do as a Specter. "I will cut to the chase, Prince; I have, as you've said, gradually been remembering things from my previous life as a Specter. I have dreams of commanding the air fleet… of fighting Gold Saints… and even of falling to my death," he revealed, leaving out the vague visions he also had of the Behemoth Surplice. "But try as I might, I can't remember my previous lives. My question is, Prince… is it possible I was once... a replacement too?"

For the first time since he's met his superior, Aiacos saw Lucifer truly staggered. The Judge of the Second Circle understood quite well that this was a provocative notion, but if anyone could understand the importance of such a doubt, it would be Lucifer. Not only because the Dark Prince had lived through the previous two Wars and therefore had unbroken, linked memories of all that time span over which the rest of the True army merely had brief glimpses of in strained memories, but because he was the superior of the Judges and therefore the only one they could confess their concerns to.

"Are you asking that out of sympathy, fear… or disgust?" tested the Prince.

Aiacos shook his head, truly confused. "I was hoping through the course of this conversation to find that out myself."

Lucifer held chin, pondering what to answer. "No, you are not a False Specter, Aiacos," he then flatly said. "Unlike the Saints, the Emperor did not discriminate his pickings based on ethnicity. Your last revival occurred through… circumstances extraneous to the False Specter condition, but still irregular, which is why you may have difficulty remembering things prior, but you're the Celestial Valiance Star, I assure you."

Although the Prince was famous for his boast of never lying, this, however, only made Aiacos more fearful. "You seem so sure. At the risk of being rude, I have to ask about those circumstances."

"Why?" Lucifer barked, now finding this line of inquiry strange. His eyes narrowed. "Did Zelos put more ideas on your head than just about False Specter resentment?!"

Aiacos shook his head. "Not Frog Zelos, my lord… but Acheron Charon, the Celestial Spatial Star," he revealed, making Lucifer widen his eyes. "He told me… that the Emperor has used False Specters before and he spoke of my name strangely."

Lucifer fumed, turning back to the large window of the palace with a furious electric spark in his fist and burning red eyes. "Charon, of course… live by the coin and die by the coin!" he muttered. "It was needless to tell any of you, Aiacos, but I didn't think the reality would be so twisted for the sake of loosening your purse, but yes, the Emperor has used replacements in the past. Never to this magnitude, though."

The revelation made Aiacos' heart sink and his head sweat with the implications. So it was true. Then the strange sympathy that he felt was undoubtedly due to-

"Cut that scared mug off your face, Aiacos, I told you already you're not a False Specter!" the Prince snapped. "Gryphon Vermeer, Frog Miyan, Gargoyle, and many others… they occupied the Underworld and served Alone before the Lost Canvas War. Even back then… you were Aiacos, Judge of the Underworld, a True Celestial Star."

Garuda's eyes shook. "Those names…" they were indeed familiar to him, which caused his mind to go into a jumbled mess. He grabbed his head, wincing, feeling the Garuda dark spirit probe his brain in search of answers, many of which conflicted with those of himself battling a Sagittarius Saint during the Lost Canvas conflict.

The Celestial Pride Star observed him with fascination. He had not predicted Aiacos to be so unstable once he returned. It was clear to the Prince that the traumatic events of the last war and the vicious battles he fought took their toll on him, just like they had on Michael and himself. He didn't have time, however, to capitalize on this. He had to put his plans into motion.

Grabbing the Judge by the shoulder, the Prince tried to snap him out of it. "Get a hold of yourself, you fool!"

Aiacos kept wincing and holding his head, feeling disjointed memories assault him painfully like nightmares. "I… I r-remember the n-names!"

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"Rise, Garuda Aiacos!" gleefully clamored Pandora, surrounded by the replacements. "Leave behind that ugly silver shell, bask in the Emperor's darkness and bring me Athena's head!"

"We will conquer Sanctuary once and for all," bragged Vermeer, shaking his hand in greeting, which prompted a frown of disgust in Garuda for having to acknowledge the false Gryphon as an equal. "Our generation will be the one to bring victory to Hades!"

"WHY?!" screamed the Libra Gold Saint, his face shadowed by the veil of oblivion, as they battled in the Temple of Libra. "How could you succumb to this path?! Tenma adored you! He looked up to you as his teacher!"

The enormous Behemoth Specter knelt before him, her long hair dropping down on her scarred back. "My name is Violante, the Celestial Solitude Star," she presented, adoring him. "I shadowed your battle through the temples and… saved you."

"This will be your only chance, Aiacos," warned Daemon Lucifer, handing him command of the Emperor's flying ship. "We already lost our door to stop their acquisition of Orichalcum, but if the Saints get that boat off the ground, know that what Alone did to Rhadamanthys will be considered 'light' compared to your punishment!"

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Breathing heavily and sweating bullets, the Judge attempted to calm himself down, gradually hearing the Prince's voice in the room again. The Prince, however, grabbed him by the neck guard and slapped him straight across the face so hard anyway that his helmet almost got knocked off, fully awakening him.

Trembling in humiliation, the Judge lowered head. "I'm sorry, Prince… I lost control."

The Left Arm of Hades stared at him. This was truly unexpected; Aiacos' level of confusion about his previous life was so high that it was affecting him as early as barely a year after being revived. While Zelos and Charon certainly played their part in exacerbating it, to affect a Judge instead of a mere Specter took a great level of mental disturbance.

He helped him get back on his feet. "Don't show this kind of weakness again. Judges don't waver in their deliberation. Remember the 4th Spell." he warned, referring to the passage of Thanatos' Book of the Dead that spoke of the three magnates of Hades and how they passed judgment on his behalf. The Prince, however, had to make a decision, so his cogs turned as fast as they could. "... You are still young in body, and eventually will grow accustomed to the weight of the revival cycle on your shoulders."

Aiacos, however, was not convinced. His instincts told him to respect the sacrifices of the faithful. "But Prince, how can I watch these new replacements go down in flames, knowing that they're not even the first ones to sacrifice their lives?"

"You asked me about the past ones, and this is what I have to say; they were just as worthless compared to the real thing as the current False Specters are!" Lucifer cut, running out of patience. "For Hades' sake, most of them were taken out by a flamboyant Cancer Saint called Deathtoll. Even Vermeer was broken by a mere Bronze Saint. Pandora went as far as to tell Michael and me that we could just let them all die, uncommanded, throwing themselves like moths to a flame at Sanctuary's temples until their aged veterans all succumbed," he scoffed. "At the time, all she was interested in was getting Alone to start painting the blasted Lost Canvas…at least we collected good intelligence from it."

Feeling the topic spoken of so casually, the Judge was even more humiliated for letting his emotions and the memories embedded in his Surplice get the better of him for a moment. "If you had been allowed to lead them, Lord Lucifer, would they have succeeded?"

The Daemon then had to cover his mouth, as if to think, to hide the smirk that went cheek to cheek on his face at this. "Taurus Ox's generation was strong… but was plagued by a lack of unity and misguided fealty to an Ophiuchus Saint. I would have destroyed them, even with the False Specters of Vermeer." He then folded his arms. "But Pandora's schemes forced my hand and allowed Taurus Rasgado's Gold Saints a chance to rise up to the occasion, replenishing the Zodiac in time for the real war. I never truly forgave her for that."

The humbled Judge nodded. As expected of Prince Lucifer, he had unwavering confidence in his triumph. Aiacos could believe in it, having seen in events like the meeting a month earlier that Pandora, indeed, had a tendency to favor playful but unwise plans that could earn her the short term contentment of the Emperor.

He looked at the table the Prince had been sitting at, noticing for the first time all the chess pieces and maps he was focused on. "Was this all about that? The draw up of the plan you were going to explain to me for the current replacements?"

Lucifer chuckled evilly, looking at the black and white pieces stacked against each other in particular. "Maybe so. I like to visualize my enemies." he joked, taking his black king and tapping over the white one which represented Shion. He turned back to the Judge. "Aiacos, I have a task for you; soon, I will initiate a great mobilizing effort to conduct my great attack on Sanctuary, but if it is as you say, there are undetermined elements in the False crowd that still harbor futile resentment towards us. My intention had been to bring the False Specters to Guidecca en masse to parade for the Emperor, a gesture to raise morale for the attack."

To Aiacos, it sounded like a wonderful idea, except for the one problem. "But if we have resentful men, it could lead to trouble." He then calculated the violence. "And the Emperor abhors the shedding of blood between his faithful."

"Even if they are hopeless fools, they could ruin the parade regardless and even spell further dissent on the rest. I would audit them, but I gave Pandora and Hades my word that the troops were disciplined, and will not have that questioned." Lucifer argued. He then leaned his head to him meaningfully. "But if I use the Book of the Dead, especially with them all gathered…"

The Celestial Valiance Star rested chin in fist pensively. "We could cast Balrog Rune's Reincarnation through it, and determine who has the sin of Treachery…It might work."

The Pride Star sat back. "My only problem is Minos. That fool is likely to raise objections to lending the book, given Thanatos entrusted him with the Book, not me, but I command the troops, so it's my responsibly to see this through." He lamented, appealing to Aiacos' self-disciplined side to sympathize. "For that I could use your help; if you set aside your concerns about honoring the replacements, you can help me get Minos to hand me the book that day and I can filter out the last remaining weeds with the Book of the Dead before leading the truly honorable ones to a glorious death against Sanctuary."

The Judge thought things through. "Why not filter them out now?"

Prince Lucifer eyed him like he was crazy. "And tell Pandora what?! That I left ungrateful replacements from last time?! Over my dead body. I take enough zapping from her as it is." he confronted, widening Aiacos eyes.

The Nepalese warrior shuddered. It was true the woman was fearsome regarding disloyalty to Hades.

"No, it's simply better to let the price of betrayal be fresh in my enemies' minds... I wouldn't have resorted to the Book otherwise." Lucifer argued, squinting away at the window as if to gaze at them. He would indeed remind his enemies of the cost of crossing him. ""Hades made it very clear to me he will not tolerate a repetition of the Bennu revolt, Aiacos. There will be no margin for error on day I march out with the False Specters, I intend it to be the last we ever have to worry about treason!"

"So far so good." or so Aiacos thought. The Prince seemed to have already everything figured out and he only just barely heard of Garuda's concerns. He must have been dealing with these undisciplined troops for much longer than Aiacos imagined.

Taking this all in, the Judge couldn't help but feel a smile of happiness on his face, truly glad he had a leader like Lucifer who could take charge, calm the fears of his men, root out the traitors and plan the suffering of the Saints with so much care. It was indeed a contrast with Rhadamanthys who, despite sharing intolerance towards failure like Lucifer, had shown to put his cart before the horses too much, causing embarrassing and tragic failures like the incursion through the Alps.

"I will help with what I can. Just tell me what to do?" asked Aiacos, genuinely concerned.

Lucifer glanced away. "For now just help me make sure your Judge brothers don't get in my way. Ideally,if Minos has a brain, he won't raise any objections to it, not to me." He then smirked when he saw the description truly baffled Garuda. "You will see justice be done to the replacements, in time…"

Garuda took but a minute to review the plan, pensively holding chin. "I see, Lord Lucifer…." he shook his head in shame, "I still regret dooming them, but perhaps your plan carries out what I would think of being a great honor to them as well. Thank you for your time, Prince, for everything... and know I will be there to support you on the day of mobilization." He then bashed gauntlet on his own chest and bowed respectfully. "For the Emperor."

Lucifer repeated the gesture. "For the fall of Sanctuary," he vowed back, then watching Garuda take his leave. Now alone in the room, the Prince allowed for three ticks of the clock to pass before glancing at the shadows in the room. "You can come out, he hasn't noticed you."

From the shadows of the curtain, his spy, the Nasu False Specter, poked her head out, dumbfounded. "That went… rather marvelously." she confessed.

"Tell Golem Treble and Deadly Beetle Gauromydas they did wonderfully, and that they can do with Zelos whatever they want, so long as he isn't here for the departure." the Prince instructed.

"Already done, Prince." and while she nodded obediently, the pale-blonde woman just had to ask about how he managed all this. "Though if you forgive the comment, sometimes I wonder if you really need a spy. How...how did you know it would play out so perfectly?"

Lucifer chuckled. "I didn't, I was actually counting with that indignant bloodhound Rhadamanthys to show up first. All I knew is that I could count on Zelos to get the Judges and Pandora to believe his dirty words, but I certainly didn't expect Aiacos to get so troubled by you." His shoulders then shook with how much he just wanted to burst out laughing. How much better could this have turned out? "And then Charon goes and helps me out, too. Ha, ha, ha… I think this might be the first time in centuries this army has obeyed me so fantastically! HA, HA, HA, HA!"

Hearing the prince cackle so hard it made her afraid the Emperor's puppet would listen to from the other side of the Palace, Nasu Erika learned that day to never think she was a more prominent marionette handler than Lucifer. Just like he had planned, now they had a Judge to help him outset the day for the exodus and split the True forces apart, and one he got to sympathize with them, too! These Celestial Stars really were real maniacs, unlike anything she and her fellow False Specters could ever hope to be. Slicking back into the shadows to follow his orders, she felt her heart beat in anticipation, knowing for sure she followed someone who could make the world shake on its pillars.

The Pride Star was left to his self-amused thoughts, leaving out a tiny bit detail to himself about his victim. "Who would have thought that, after two hundred and fifty years, that soft-hearted Suikyo side would make you play into my hands so wonderfully, Aiacos? I could just die laughing at you right now!"

{======================/Ξ\.◊./Ξ\\======================}

Chapter End

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Next Chapter: Chapter 37 - Second Arc – Episode 6 - Exodus - Part 1

Description: In the Underworld, the preparations for the great sally out of the False Specter forces conclude. In Sanctuary, as Aiolia wanders the Zodiac, he finds his upper neighbor lost in thoughts at the Virgo Temple.

Author's Note: This chapter stretched itself out unintentionally, 26000 words is uncommon for my build up segments. I enjoyed a lot writing some parts of this chapter, though, mostly cause I got to go around and play with a lot of different characters in different scenarios. With LR being LR, it still took a lot of sweat and toil, but once I was done with my exams I managed to get through some of the harsher parts here with surprising ease.

In the older version of LR, this part of the story wasn't as deeply built up and focused more on Sanctuary's side of things than the Underworld's, so I took the opportunity earlier on this arc to really delve into matters in a more balanced manner and develop the Underworld before I get to what will be an incredible part of the Arc, the Exodus episode.

There were a bunch of scenes, especially in the latter half of this chapter, that had to be rewritten more than once, which delayed production. They stemmed mostly from problems regarding some reveals which needed to be carefully laid out, as well as some details of Lucifer's instructions to Garuda, which needed a simpler lay out and clarification. Hopefully the final product is satisfying.

Finally, make sure to check out Hitagi Gahara's SKD scanlations of Next Dimension, Saintia Sho and others. The writer of this fanfic is proofreader of Saint Seiya Next Dimension's English releases and they're your current top source for high quality scanlations in English. Also, if you're interested, contact me through PM and get an invitation to the new SKD Discord server, where you can get updates on Sho and ND directly, not to mention chat with me and many other english-speaking SS fans.