The air is staid within the grand cathedral, rays leaking in through the stained glass windows scattering dramatic panels of light across the floor.

High above the pulpit, seated on naught but air, I gaze down at the quartet of angels below me.

Fortitudo. Temperantia. Iustitia. Sapientia.

The Auditio, restored from their Sequi forms and looking like their proper selves again, bow as best as their wildly different bodies allow.

I had to make the building like twenty times its original size to make room for all of us, and frankly it's a bit weird that Heaven contains copies of its own earthly place of worship to begin with, but the location felt more... suitably ceremonial than certain alternatives.

Do you know why I've summoned you?

To dispatch the fragment of chaos that seeks to delude and exploit our realm. Sapientia surmises.

I nod, raising a hand and exhaling a cloud of shimmering dust. It drifts down to the floor, swiftly condensing into the shape of a dark-skinned boy with tight white cornrows, wearing baggy, cool-colored clothes.

Loptr cannot be allowed to taint the heavens any more than he already has. As such, I am tasking the four of you with his extermination.

The boy's form warps and grows into that of a man, still dark-skinned, but now heavily-tattooed, with innumerable golden frames adorning a shimmering, diamond-shaped robe.

...a robe so stiff and angular that he mostly just looks like a weirdly geometrical bedsheet ghost. It is still practically a crime that I have to take someone so ridiculous-looking this seriously.

As I dispel my visual aid, Iustitia raises a tentacle, looking like an absurdly large schoolkid trying to catch the attention of his even larger teacher. I tilt my head at him with a masked, slightly-disbelieving stare.

Speak freely, Iustitia.

Forgive my rudeness, Creator, the angel says, his burbling, child-like voice echoed by his underlying deeper one, but would not the danger this entity poses be nullified if the Trinity of Realities were reunited, as planned?

No. I instantly reply. In fact, Loptr currently stands as a direct impediment to such, as his influence over the human realm risks him gaining influence over all realms should they be reunited right now.

While I made that up ahead of time in order to counter this very question, it's not pure nonsense. Loptr created the concept of time when he was still Aesir, and therefore held theoretical influence over essentially all events that occurred under its purview, ie. the entire human realm. Thus if Loptr ever regains that influence, and every reality has been merged into one, he very well could end up with power over everything.

Which I think we'd all prefer to avoid.

A deep growl issues from both of Fortitudo's serpentine heads. If that is so, we begin to comprehend your disinclination to reclaim the realms as your own, Creator.

Our apologies for not foreseeing this danger ourselves. Temperantia adds, bobbing up and down in what I assume to be his version of agreement.

I shake my head, ever so slightly and slowly.

You are not omniscient, and so hold no blame for that.

...well, maybe a little blame, but I can't really hold it against you for not noticing an entity who was both hiding inside of someone else and deliberately obscuring his own presence, even as he led you around by your marble noses.

How far have the heretic's words spread? Sapientia asks.

Further than is in any way acceptable.

I don't actually know the specifics, but quite frankly any amount would be a concern. Hell, Loptr may have jumped back through time and started planting the seeds of doubt before I was even actually revived for all I know, which makes dealing with him ASAP even more critical.

Then where may we find him?

I frown, my expression mirrored by the many smaller marble faces embedded in my headpiece.

His current location is... unclear. Shade of his former self he may be, his nature still serves to mask him from my sight.

Namely because it's his sight, and I'm honestly not sure how you four still seem to be unaware of this, however forgotten Aesir may be in the modern day. Maybe hearsay surrounding the Eyes of the World just got really weird over the centuries, but weren't you there when Jubileus was sealed? Or is it just that you consider everything to be hers by default...? A question for another time.

However, it is quite likely that he has based himself out of Fimbulventr, as his recruitment of demons heavily implies his presence near the Gates. I continue.

The Auditio shift with clear but quiet fury at that, evidently finding that particular tidbit especially heinous. Granted, I didn't actually see any demons in that group that attacked me, but Loptr did it in canon, and Fimbulventr is still Aesir's nominal throne, so I don't see why he wouldn't do the same here.

Loptr possesses the ability to move through time, but will have to return to the here and now in order to act upon anything not already part of observed history. Even if he is not currently present in the... present, be ready to act at any moment in the event he returns.

I brush over my awkward phrasing, trusting the Auditio will do the same.

Understood. Temperantia thunders. We shall lead our flocks to Fimbulventr and bring it down to bedrock if we must.

Don't get ahead of yourselves. I chide. This task has additional criteria. For one, I would like you to avoid damaging the town at the mountain's base. Noatun is home to a number of mystical devices, which I would prefer remain undamaged.

...and which I have to use as my reasoning for such, as I already know exactly how little these four care about human collateral. Vigrid might still be on fire even now, and the multiple enormous tornadoes Temperantia left behind certainly can't have helped.

What if the fragment attempts to hide among the city's populace?

I glance down at Sapientia, uncertain if he asked that because he's angry at having been deceived by Loptr, genuinely concerned about Noatun's inhabitants, or simply wants permission to rampage. My answer is the same regardless.

Loptr is unlikely to resort to using human shields, but should he do so, simply wait until he exposes himself again. While in hiding, he will be unable to act, so no such ruse will last.

And what of the angels he has deceived? Iustitia interjects.

I sigh, deliberately loud, long, and slow.

I would prefer that you not simply slaughter those that have been misled. Grant them at least a chance to return to the light... but should they give you no other option, do as you must. Consider this a standing order for the time being.

...which I just realized in this context is also a pun, and one I sadly can't point out.

Additionally...

I don't think it's likely, and in fact should be impossible, but just in case?

I breathe out again, and another sparkling cloud swirls into being. The boy that forms from it this time is nigh-identical to the one I showed the Auditio previously, differing only in the warmer colors of his clothing, and the shape of the glowing symbol on his forehead.

Should you encounter a boy named 'Loki' who looks much as Loptr does, but is not him, he is not to be harmed. Protect him from Loptr to the best of your ability, and inform me at once.

I disperse the image.

Any further questions?

Silence falls.

I tap my foot on the air, the teacher-student comparison only feeling more and more apt as the seconds tick by. Really? Somehow, not one of them has brought up the single thing I've been waiting for them to ask about since the start of this discussion. I know they're concerned about it, and they were so willing to question everything else...

I would not ask if I did not wish to hear. I prod. Speak now, or not at all.

It takes another several seconds, but I get what I was looking for.

...a small, final qualm, Creator. Sapientia hesitantly admits. With the Translunar Faith Allocator still broken, a concerted effort of this scale could cause many lesser angels to expire.

I nod, quietly pleased.

A valid point.

A dimensional pocket opens in front of me, and from it the recently departed pour forth, souls of the faithful summoned from across the planet's surface before any other angels could retrieve them. I skip the formalities this time, having already posed to each of them the same question I previously asked the Devotions, and received an identical unanimous consent.

I'm starting to suspect it's perhaps a bit hard to say "no" to God, but I did ask.

I draw the souls to my hands, infusing them and the form in my mind with the halos I took from the battle in NYC. It's not quite enough for the numbers I want, so I add a few seconds worth of divinity-produced energy to help make up the shortfall, and a moment later innumerable Sacreds and Sanctifieds — really? Like I didn't already know that? — spill forth into reality.

I regard my new creations fondly. Small, fast, and with bodies shaped like interlinked pointed stars, they look almost like living Christmas ornaments, the tails of the Sanctifieds even jingling like sleigh bells. Surprisingly, they seem to have universally ended up one rank higher than I actually intended, but that's hardly something to complain about.

The restoration of the Translunar Faith Allocator must wait until I have dealt with certain obstructing factors. I announce, being carefully vague as to what those factors actually are. Until then, these angels will serve as a temporary measure to manually apportion spiritual resources across Paradiso.

Heaven's newest residents scatter with my words, darting out of the cathedral to commence the task I just made them for. I based their capacity to collect and distribute faith on my own, essentially just scaling down the limits to be feasible for angels of lesser power, so I expect that they'll be very good at it.

Our eternal thanks, Creator. Iustitia burbles, his many faces looking strangely pleased as his core swivels, their various gazes fixed on the departing angels. We are blessed by your foresight and beneficence.

My lips twitch slightly. So he says, but this still isn't really an answer for the larger problem — not a sustainable one, anyway. As hyper-competent at their duty as I made my newest angels, it will never be efficient to distribute faith by hand across a space as cosmically massive as Paradiso, which is why the TFA existed in the first place. These angels are essentially just an emergency stopgap measure... but they should at least stem the bleeding for the moment.

Oh, and speaking of my "foresight".

Manifesting a heavenly scroll akin to those I briefly saw in the Divine Information Aggregate, I inscribe the design details for the Sacreds and Sanctifieds upon it with a wave of my hand, then send copies flying off to both the Celestial Refinery and The Fixed Stars. I doubt the Visus will be thrilled that I'm still doing their job for them, but that should at least keep them from coming to me with the same complaint again.

All concerns appear to have been addressed. Temperantia summates. We shall remove this stain on the realms with haste, and return Paradiso to its natural resplendence.

The other three rumble their agreement, ripples of motion beginning to stir the air.

I hold up my hand.

One last thing.

The Auditio still.

I understand you four were the primary driving force behind my resurrection?

The quartet wordlessly incline themselves in answer.

I sigh, internally this time.

The things that these four did in order to achieve their goals were reprehensible. Loptr, through Balder, may have spurred on the masses to finish the job, but the Auditio still initiated the Witch Hunts of their own free will, killing not just numerous witches, but countless other people in the chaos, caring nothing for them and thinking nothing of them. They let Balder brainwash Jeanne, ravaged Vigrid, and show zero remorse for any of it even now. The ends do not always justify the means.

...but given my position as "the ends" in this scenario, it would still somehow feel remiss of me to not express a bit of gratitude.

While I do not condone the steps you took to achieve it, nor the deaths and destruction that conspired in the course of your efforts… you have my thanks.

The Auditio preen, seeming to shine brighter for a brief moment.

We are humbled by your words. Fortitudo says, a sentiment echoed by the others a scant moment later.

I nod, as if that was only to be expected.

Dismissed.

The Auditio bow a final time.

GEMEGANZA
(Your will be done.)

Voices still ringing through the chapel, they disappear, vanishing as one into pillars of light.

...I get the feeling I may have just taught those four the entirely wrong lesson, but I still felt I had to say it. I'll fix whatever harm I just did later.

Right now, it's time to figure out how I'm actually going to deal with Loptr — because truth be told, I don't have high hopes the Auditio will succeed at what I just asked of them.

I slowly descend, hovering just inches over the chapel floor.

Much as I'd like to have more faith in my angels, unless Loptr is exceedingly careless, he'll presumably see them coming long beforehand and simply abscond through time, which they won't be able to do anything about. Keeping Loptr out of the present, or even simply busy isn't worthless however, and the Auditio's personal presence around Fimbulventr should put quite a bit of pressure on the subverted angels, not to mention seriously slow down Loptr's "recruitment efforts" in tandem with my realm-wide broadcast. At best, the Auditio pull off a miracle, and at worst, they should delay Loptr's plans long enough for me to figure out how to eliminate him for real.

...something I'll likely have to do in person, because there's no way he won't come for me himself eventually.

I wipe my hand over the air as though it were glass, leaving behind crystalline strands of thought that gather into mirror-like screens. Images shine and shift within them, playing out what I know in front of me as I think.

As things stand, Loptr unfortunately has the information advantage in a major way. I've changed things so much simply by continuing to exist that my canon foreknowledge of his actions is halfway to worthless, and I can't predict him with the Right Eye of Light, not that I'd be able to remotely trust it on this subject even if I could. On the other hand, Loptr inherently possesses the Prophetic Power, and thus has literally all of time to view as he pleases. My hope would be that he similarly can't view or predict me, at least not directly, or while I'm in Paradiso, where Aesir's sight perhaps didn't fully reach — but if that by some chance is the case, it doesn't seem to be stopping him from acting.

I glare up at the ceiling. I'm not sure Loptr even truly knows I'm not the real Jubileus, or if that's just the rhetoric he's using, but it's probably safer to assume that he does and is acting accordingly. Combined with my own currently "nerfed" state, I don't feel confident confronting him directly until I have more of an advantage, or at least less of a potential disadvantage, lest the Right Eye simply rip itself out of my head the moment I get close and serve itself to Loptr on a silver platter.

...which I guess brings me right back around to the question of how to quickly regain enough of my own power that I can operate without using his eye as a crutch.

I suppose I could still take back the fragments I already know the locations of...

The screens around me flicker in tandem with the sarcastic laugh the thought baits from me. Yeah, great idea, and perfect timing too. Let me just give the angels more reason to throw their lot in with Loptr, because why NOT bring Paradiso to a total standstill and cause a full-on heavenly schism? Plus, with that other giant chunk of my divinity still MIA, I'm not even sure what's here would be enough to guarantee a win against Loptr, at least not if he gets any of his own back before I can confront him. No, that's not the answer I'm looking for...

I take a few more minutes to think, but the ideas I manage to brainstorm all have the same failing — without any actual assurances, they're just too risky to attempt; too reliant on everything going perfectly in accordance with hopeful expectations to actually execute. If I could use the Right Eye to at least check if a given course of action would work as intended, I'd be a lot better off, but with Loptr now actively opposing me, I can't take any chances with it anymore, and I don't exactly have anything else that can fulfill the same informational role.

Do I?

I bring a hand to my chin.

I don't... know of any other means of omniscience available to me, nor do I know how I'd go about making a source of infinite knowledge that I don't already possess. Come to think of it though, Jubileus surely can't have been less omniscient than Loptr, even back when he was still Aesir. By which logic, there assuredly must be some sort of existing alternative that I'm just not currently aware of.

How exactly to go about becoming aware of it though, when I'm not already, is...

My frown deepens. Yeah, that's a real catch-22. Can't exactly ask another angel or Rodin this time either.

Maybe...

Not wanting to be a one-trick pony, but not seeing any reason I shouldn't at least try, I draw on the Deagraph again. Hundreds of false chromatic eyes blink open, streaming from my skin like kaleidoscopic fire, but I pay them no mind as I adjust the radar's parameters once more, this time asking them to seek not divinity, but anything inherently and only mine, ignoring anything with a mind of its own or that anyone else could claim "original" ownership of.

The false eyes flicker, swiveling around wildly before locking into place as one. My various wells of power, scattered in orbit in every direction, immediately pop back into my broader awareness.

...as does something else lying at the very edge of the realm.

Oh?