Chapter 10: The General's Tale
It had been a harrowing and bewildering day for everyone, and in the cool of the evening, after sufficient rest and refreshment, the Earthlings and Roshtarians took stock of events.
Material damage inflicted during the Shadow Reapers' attack was extensive but repairable; losses among the Roshtarian Royal Guards and the palace staff had been heavy, although nowhere as severe as they might have been considering the circumstances involved.
And, above all else, the stark, mind-boggling reality that a figure from El-Hazard's days of yore still walked among them, was slowly sinking in.
"I was never much of a chronicler," Varic addressed Princess Rune and the others in her audience chamber, "and cannot afford to dally, for there remains considerable work to be done - Zheveryn's troops will definitely return. But I do owe you all an explanation, given that I bear a degree of responsibility for how things currently stand. So I will mostly opt to show rather than tell, and you may ask me anything that I do not make plain."
With that, he spread his robe like a wing, and moving pictures began to play before their astounded eyes, hologram-like, in its broad expanse.
First to appear was a vista of sprawling cityscapes where aesthetics harmonised with functionality - lofty towers of sheeted platinum, silver and glass mingled with exquisitely carved sandstone monuments, crystal clear waterways and tree-lined colonnades, while airships floated serenely overhead.
Amidst this bustling backdrop, prosperous-looking people in beautiful clothes went about their days in balmy splendour, served by robotic retainers that could easily pass for attractive men and women themselves.
These cybernetic servitors were seen to perform tasks ranging from mining, construction and seabed exploration to waiting on their masters and mistresses, hand and foot, in more personal roles - chefs, stewards, housekeepers, nursemaids, dancers and musicians.
This impressive vision looked every inch the pinnacle of civilisation, and it was enough to take anybody's breath away.
A glimmer of nostalgic pride shone in Varic's eyes, but only for the briefest of instants; his countenance was soon sombre again.
"This was El-Hazard as I knew it," he narrated, "a flourishing, vibrant world full of science, poetry and art - one whose emergence, like a phoenix, from the ashes of several ruinous wars, was nothing less than miraculous. We had successfully cultivated artificial intelligence in the form of the Hierodules that you have just seen..."
The image changed here to one of himself directing a team of white-coated scientists and technicians as they laboured to complete a certain VERY familiar satellite.
"...and groundwork was being laid in the exciting new field of interdimensional travel. It was an age of marvels... one that was unfortunately not to last."
The imaginary camera panned onto one of Varic's researchers - a slightly built fellow, fair-skinned, shaven-headed and sharp-featured, little more than a boy, really, who was next shown working industriously in a neatly organised laboratory while whistling a lively tune.
"Please look carefully, Miss Relryle," Varic instructed the wide-eyed, nervous Alielle. "Do you recognise this man?"
"His height and his build kind of match the guy from the market," the little handmaiden replied after squinting for a protracted moment.
"And what of his face?"
Alielle squinted harder. "Something about the chin rings a bell, but... sorry, I can't really be sure. He was wearing that big hood, you know?"
"It has to be him," Varic muttered. "There's nobody else it could have been. And yet..." He perished whatever thought he had begun to entertain, and went on with his tale.
"Zheveryn was my most promising protégé. His proficiency and congeniality were the perfect cover for the dreams of conquest and annihilation lurking behind that cheerful front. Thus it was that I smiled, nodded and permitted him full access to whole industrial bases to manufacture what was ostensibly medical equipment for humanitarian causes... not knowing that he was forging the knives - or rather the scythes – with which he would stab us all in the back."
The young analyst looked quite different in the next scene, dressed in jet-black armour, scarlet robes and a horned helmet engraved on its front surface with the bloodied scythe emblem that those present were well acquainted with by now.
His eyes, now glowing maroon and flashing with malice, stared intensely from beneath its brim, and his viper-like fangs glinted in the light as he addressed serried ranks of Shadow Reapers standing before him in their hundreds.
"We are poised on a razor's edge – glorious victory on one side, ruinous defeat on the other," he intoned with raised fist. "Triumph is never certain in warfare, and nothing is without risk. I will not lie to you, my children. We may be destroyed. But even if we are, we shall give them one hell of a run for their money and drag their entire world down with us... a world in flames."
"And they did," said Varic bitterly as the recording played on. "Grown overly reliant on a handful of 'wonder weapons' dating from the last conflict - particularly the Ifrit-class Hierodules, your 'Demon Gods', which still served as mass-destruction deterrents against further hostilities - the thrones and dominions of El-Hazard had complacently neglected to maintain standing armies and conventional arsenals. Caught unawares by a ferocious new enemy, who played by no civilised rules and possessed bewildering advantages we could not counter, the results were... predictable."
They ambushed a raven-haired female Ifrit clad in grey jacket and magenta tights in the skies over a teeming seaport, a dozen of them appearing all around her as if from out of nowhere before zooming in for the kill.
A pulse of energy from her staff reduced five of the Reapers to ash, but her target-acquisition capabilities were soon overwhelmed by the remaining seven, who cloaked and de-cloaked almost reflexively to evade her further attacks and answered with savage firepower of their own.
Preoccupied with this frontal assault, she did not detect the Wraiths they had surreptitiously deployed until it was far too late, and went down under a shower of missiles that struck her from behind.
The crippled Ifrit, lying where she had fallen upon the shoreline with circuitry laid bare and ichor pooling beneath her, was helpless to resist when the Reapers landed nearby and surrounded her immobilised form, saw blades glinting in the sun.
She cried out in terror, an anguished, heart-rending scream no different from that of any flesh and blood individual, and Rune was not alone in screwing her eyes shut and turning spasmodically away.
When the princess looked again, it was upon the no less terrible sight of the seaport reduced to smouldering rubble, its opulence extinguished forever, its inhabitants cruelly butchered.
"They came, they sapped, they burnt, they slew, they plundered and they left. Even when a kingdom surrendered following the defeat of its protectors, it was depopulated, looted and razed. Banaar, Vadhoza, Gholdoraan, Sakhuz... these, along with so many others, are but distant memories now. Never before had there been an army so efficient at the gruesome business of levelling other people's societies. And against this inexorable tide of darkness, we resorted to a desperate, last ditch measure."
"The Eye of God," whispered Rune.
Varic nodded. "Weaponising the experimental technology originally devised for travel between the spheres was a gambit I had serious misgivings about. The destructive potential was immense - so immense that enacting this 'cure' for the 'disease' could very well kill the 'patient' in the process. But my ideal solution to the problem was a time consuming one, and time was no longer on our side by this point. So when Oculus Station - or the Eye, as you know it - finally saw first use, it was for a purpose other than intended, a warlike purpose... and my misgivings sadly proved correct."
A tremendous flash filled the room and the assembly witnessed the newly activated Eye's awesome power being unleashed upon Zheveryn and his followers, who frantically clung to or cowered behind whatever was within reach in a futile attempt to avoid the yawning vortices and bolts of plasma that were indiscriminately consuming and obliterating everything for miles around.
The Reapers' creator mouthed a terrible curse as he saw his soldiery being eradicated en masse, but was interrupted mid-syllable when the very earth tore asunder beneath his feet, sending him plummeting into a molten abyss.
And on the very summit of the Stairway to the Sky, right beneath the Eye's seething, crackling 'pupil', Varic and a number of his compatriots grappled to stop what they had let loose upon the world, success only forthcoming when the general himself ascended into the station's very core and manually shut it down - an action that left him lying near death, his body fearfully scorched and battered by rogue electrical discharges and gravitational forces.
The footage ended, and Varic brought his account to a conclusion:
"I was put into stasis within the Great Sepulchre soon thereafter, and knew not if our gamble had ultimately proved worth the effort. Thanks to Mr Mizuhara, I am now aware that the Reapers were never seen again for hundreds of years - that they were apparently eliminated as a threat until recently.
"I also understand, however, that as a result of the Eye's activation, a great fissure you call the River of God divides El-Hazard into east and west, and the eastern region, which we designated the primary target on account of Zheveryn being headquartered there, remains a permanently blighted wasteland. Furthermore, the Eye transported an alien race of Phantom illusionists here by accident, their presence leading to many further quandaries. And evidently the world as I knew it ultimately did not endure, even though it may have survived the cataclysm in the short term..."
Here his voice trailed off, a faraway look entering his eyes, and both the Roshtarians and the Earthlings could not help but feel sympathy for this man from another era - this man who fought and survived a losing battle against a ruthless foe, who made an impossible decision under inconceivable pressure, who nearly sacrificed his life to quell doomsday... who had awakened, practically from the dead, to find his home and loved ones long gone, like dust in the wind.
"These revelations cannot come easy, General," Rune finally said, "and I am sure they leave you doubting yourself, second guessing your actions. But of this I am also sure - we of El-Hazard as it is today owe our existences to what you did, and we would never presume to judge you, to imagine the dreadful conditions under which you made your call.
"We likewise cannot even begin to understand the sense of loss and disconcertment you must feel at finding yourself permanently displaced into unfamiliar surroundings, so far removed from those you knew and cherished. The gods know we had no intention of giving you an unpleasant awakening, but we were left with no alternative - we desperately require your help. So if you would deign to stand by us in this hour of need, we will do everything possible to help you find peace and purpose amidst all this uncertainty."
Although Varic's expression remained stoic, Makoto could sense that he was profoundly moved - that an indescribable tumult of emotions swirled within his chest.
At length, his features softened, and he knelt deeply in thanks.
"This may be a very different El-Hazard from mine own," said he, "but it is no less worth defending, being peopled by those who stand firm and courageous in the face of adversity, who would gladly lay down their lives for one another..." (here his gaze fell knowingly upon Makoto) "...who would restore the repressed humanity of a reluctant killing machine, and afford her the love and kindness she deserved all along. Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost. I am at the Princess' service, and at the service of you all."
And when he rose, it was to relieved, grateful smiles - to the realisation that there was yet hope for victory.