Chapter 188 – The Void King's Secret

With Alexander now under Nevren's control, he had to do some studying in Alexander's castle while he still slumbered. Part of the success was letting Alexander sleep for a while longer, giving him ample opportunity with his Portable Dungeon to quickly make his way to the abandoned Void Kingdom.

Excluding Nevren himself, not a single soul occupied the streets.

He walked past empty food stalls with dusty leftovers still on their plates. Nothing truly rotted in the Voidlands. Bacteria didn't survive in the landscape. Nothing broke down the same way it did on the surface. Instead, it dried out and returned to the ash of the soil. It fascinated Nevren. He wished, if he had more time, he could study it further. While gloomy, there was a hidden beauty in the way the Voidlands functioned and how the Pokémon within had made a life for themselves.

Nevren explored many streets, rewinding time after he was satisfied with each roadway. Most of the infrastructure had already disabled itself from nobody operating power generators, though from what Nevren observed, those generators seemed to rely on Pokémon life force. Nothing died here, after all. Not permanently. And Nevren powered Quartz HQ in a similar way. The Void Kingdom was merely upscaling that same utilitarian philosophy.

It worked well as a prison, too. Nevren wondered if Alexander shunted away rebels and the like to power generators for eternity. It would be an awfully efficient way to get rid of dissidents and power the useful citizens. Nevren would never, of course. Only the truly threatening ones who would provide little to society otherwise. Better as a power source than a danger.

He happened upon a newspaper and read it over. The rhetoric suggested the press was free to talk about what they wished, so long as they did not directly criticize Alexander or his immediate personnel. That left Nevren intensely curious to find the underground newspapers. And, ah! After only a few resets, he'd found what he was looking for tucked away behind a barkeep's shelves.

Nevren quickly got a superficial understanding of Cipher City. Alexander ran things so efficiently and didn't need to deal with any matters of procedure or process. Anam was similar, but relied on experts to handle the worst, and in hindsight, his ability to filter bad actors was certainly only due to Dark Matter's influence. But how did Alexander do it? He had to know…

The Void Kingdom itself… was quite functional, especially for a world with far fewer resources. Simply gathering drinking water not plagued by corpse dust was an incredible feat. Clean water… such a simple resource, but that was how Alexander built his kingdom. Perhaps he purified it himself.

The gardens of Void Castle were empty, of course. As were the halls within, and even the rooms that should have been crawling with activity. But Nevren didn't have time to explore every nook and cranny for any secrets Alexander might have left here. Really, Nevren was here on a hunch.

But he could make time.

He always had plenty of that.

Sera breathed in and out. The sunlight no longer stung. This time, it was her nerves alone that made her mane fizzle in the wind. In front of her was a small building for Sugar 'n Spice, her old job. Sugar must have been running it alone at this point… But it was empty inside. The newly installed Luminous Orbs were on. She must have been in the back.

"You sure you want to do this right now?" Mu asked. The Charmander's arms were crossed with concern.

"Yeah. Yeah, I've… been putting it off. And seeing how easily Ghrelle—one of our big threats—was taken out? I'm not risking it."

"I mean, you died like, a thousand times, right?"

"Ehh, one magnitude off, but… around that."

"Ten thousand?"

"Other way, other way! What, you think I'm your dad or something?"

"Hey, he only died like, a hundred times tops!" Mu puffed her cheeks. "And he's your dad for one of those lives, too, y'know!"

"Oh, go away, already!" Sera said. "Little sisters are so annoying."

Mu hissed like a feral and vanished before Sera's eyes.

Sera exhaled sharply and brushed her claws through her mane, shaking out her nerves. A few more deep breaths later and her body shifted its shape, darkening, compressing into something without fur or ectoplasm. She hardened into a Salazzle with a scar on her chest for good measure, recalling that same nasty appearance.

It was all a lie now, but… that was how she remembered it. For now, she was Spice.

She cleared her throat, getting used to her old set of jaws and teeth and tongue. Her first few steps wobbled until she recalled her old stance and gait.

And finally, she pushed the door open as a fresh gust of cooled air greeted her. The same cool air the modified Hail Orb above produced to keep the confections cool and solid. A bell chimed when the door moved.

"I'll be right there!" Sugar called. Simply her voice loosened Spice's muscles. It all came back to her like a vivid dream. Her life as Spice, who'd slipped right into the family, using the powers of Dungeons to distort the minds of these people to believe she'd always been there. Had always been Sugar's twin sister.

All just so she could grasp at what little fragments her Void Shadow mind had recalled of being someone else.

Did they find out? She'd been missing for so long, but surely someone told them about…

Sugar entered from the back. "Hello, we—" And stopped.

Spice considered leaving. She wasn't welcome.

"Spice!" Sugar beamed. "H-hey, Mom! Spice is here!"

"What?" Spice heard from the back.

Soon, a third Salazzle entered the lobby, this time much older and a little taller than them both. Her body was slightly paler and a few stubborn patches weren't fully shed from the last set of scales.

This was Salazzle Anise, mother of Sugar, and the one Spice felt she'd deceived the most.

"Oh, Spice," Anise whispered, stepping around the white counters with a very subtle limp from old age. "Finally! You're safe…"

"I—yeah. I…" Spice had no idea what to say.

Sugar's beaming grin lessened into something more knowing and somber.

"…A while back," she said, "a Charizard with a black flame had visited us and told us about… you. And later on, Phol came along, too. Told us the same thing."

"Phol? Here? He hates chocolates," Spice murmured.

"He likes the berry tarts," Sugar said with a wink. "Anyway… We already know, Spice. Sorry if you wanted to tell us yourself…"

"Oh." Spice deflated. "I… I guess I waited too long."

Anise shook her head. "We're glad we found out when we did. I was worried sick! But… you needed time. I knew you'd see us again, Spice."

Though her words sounded slightly rehearsed, Spice had a sense… they weren't rehearsed to lie or placate. More like she'd been hoping all this time to see her again. Anise had run the conversation over and over, and now she was trying to act it out.

Spice hoped she could answer predictably.

"Yeah," she started. "I… I just didn't—I'm… I'm not… 'Spice' anymore. Not entirely. It's really complicated, I'm sorry, I have no idea how to…"

"I think you became her," Anise said gently.

That earned an odd glance from Sugar; she, too, looked puzzled.

"I know, Spice," Anise said gently, finally hobbling close enough to hold the Void Shadow's shoulder. "I've always known. You tried to make me think it was all a nightmare, or some hallucination, all those years ago."

Spice's whole back felt like it had been draped in ice. What?

"When you saved my life in that Dungeon from all those other Void Shadows, from the outlaws who'd chased me down, I remember all of that, Spice," Anise said gently. "And… I figured out it was you, from the Heart of Hearts. He told me… what you were. But he also said you were kind. And that I should follow my heart in how I'd treat you."

"You… can't be serious," Spice whispered. "I—all this time, I…" Confusion, anger. Spice didn't know what was bubbling inside her. Humiliation, too? She wanted to laugh. All that time so meticulously trying to 'grow up' and act as such, practically convincing herself that her time as a Void Shadow was all a dream itself. The fear and panic as her past caught up to her, and—

"You knew too," Spice whispered, looking at Sugar.

"I—what?" Sugar shook her head. "Oh, no, no! I didn't at all! I mean, not until you started, er… transforming. I asked Mom about it, and… she answered. Gave Dad a real panic, though."

Spice cursed. "Oh, Dad! Is he—uh, I mean, how's he doing? I know his heart's not the best anymore—"

"He's just fine, Spice," Anise assured. "In fact, we should see him next. He'd love to see you again."

Spice opened her mouth a few times, unable to find the words.

"…But," Sugar said, pulling away from Spice. "I want… I need closure on this, if that's okay with you."

"Closure?" Spice didn't know if she wanted to know that she meant by that, but she had to ask.

"…Spice, please," Sugar said, "show us… who you are now. I think, I think I need to see it, to… understand. I still don't get it." She laughed. It seemed happy, but there was confusion in her eyes. "You're standing in front of me. Same sister I knew! But… everything I was told, is… is it true?"

Is it true? The word echoed in Spice's mind. Is it true. What was true anymore? Who was she? Who was she meant to be? Was it all just phantasms as she acted out what she used to be, or was that in itself her new 'self' after it all?

Spice sighed. "Right," she whispered. "I understand. You want to see… what I really am. No illusions, no false forms, just what I really look like when I… drop it all. Right?"

The hesitance in Sugar's face told her all she wanted to know. Fear and determination. Afraid, yet standing firm.

She was always so brave.

"Mom?" Spice asked.

Anise was calmer. She already knew, after all.

"Right." Spice sighed. "Then… Here. What I really am."

Her form melted away. Scales softened into black tar. Her head sank into her shoulders and her whole body shrank and bubbled outward into a shapeless, vaguely Goomy-shaped blob of black ooze. In this state, Spice found it was a little harder to think. She could sit idle for a long, long time and not be bothered.

"Spice?" Sugar asked.

"Yeah," Spice replied, her voice distorted and vibrating from the outside of her gelatinous body. "Still me."

Sugar took one step forward and reached out, but then pulled back. "Ah—you're safe? To touch?"

"…I… didn't really think about that," Spice admitted. "Maybe?"

Tentatively, Sugar placed her palm on the top of Spice's body as if touching a forehead. When nothing happened, she sighed and crouched down, embracing her delicately. "This doesn't hurt, does it?" she asked.

"No." She wriggled. As a soft-bodied creature, she was keenly aware of how sharp Sugar's claws were, but also how carefully Sugar held her.

"You're a lot bigger than I remember," Anise commented, kneeling next to Spice. "But… it's still you, Spice. You don't have to be afraid when you're with us, okay?"

Her body squished downward, shying away. "Y-yeah. Well, I don't really… like being like this, either…"

"What's your, um, preferred form?" Sugar asked, pulling away after an awkward cling to Spice's body as the Void Shadow pulled her body together again.

"Right."

Spice grew again. From the black tar, limbs grew out, excess ectoplasm channeling into her mane, which then lightened and separated out into thick filaments, which further split into fine fur. Parts of her body lightened into crimson nodules, cool to the touch like the ectoplasm of her mane.

"Oh, wow…" Now, they were looking up—she was much taller. "A Zoroark, but…"

"Yeah, not sure what happened there," Sera admitted, clearing her throat. "Never seen a Zoroark like this, but I—"

"I have," Anise said. "They're spectral variants. I think eastern? Far east, there's a small clan that used to live past the salt flats, though I'm not sure where they went…"

Sera shrugged. "Well, glad I'm not too one-of-a-kind."

Sugar tilted her head. "You speak a little differently," she said, "like that."

"Oh. Sorry." Sera glanced away. "When I get into an old body, I think I… pick up the old habits, too. But me, right now, it's kinda pulling all of it together at once and trying to find a result, you know?"

Sugar nodded in fascination.

Anise did the same and said, "Well, I don't think anyone new is coming to the shop. Would you like to visit your father before nightfall?"

"You know, I was going to ask about that," Sera said. "Mom! You're way too old to be working the shop!"

Anise tittered. "It's just until Sugar can get some extra help. I understand you can't focus on it right now, but—"

"No, I'm coming back!"

This earned a flabbergasted look from them both.

"What? But what about… your other families?"

"Well, I…" Sera hesitated and then poked her claws together. "Every other life was unemployed. So, uh… once this is all taken care of… I kinda only have this job and being a Heart again."

Sugar squinted. "What? You had tons of lives before, though, right? How do all of them not have a job?"

"Well, my very first self died. One of my other new lives died and became a Guardian spirit… one was, you know, Spice. And all the rest were feral. So…"

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

When she thought about it, most of her lives were jobless. Huh. How was Spice the most normal of the bunch? Aside from the ferals before Enet, at least…

Sugar snapped her claws in front of Spice.

"Gah! Sorry, was thinking back. Sort of a lot of different paths there…"

"C'mon, then. If you still want to keep your job, I don't think it'll be that hard to adjust some paperwork… Let's see Dad."

Sera smiled. "…Yeah. Thanks… Sis."

With one more place recovered as a home, Sera followed her adopted and real family down the warm late-afternoon roads.

7 2 5 3.

Nevren should have started a 9. With an annoyed grunt, the Alakazam passed through a door that would have set the whole hallway aflame had he entered the wrong passcode three times in a row. Of course, that kind of brute-force guessing would have wasted far too much time, so instead he found ways to get a few more guesses in while the hallway was on fire and his skin was burning off. That managed to triple his attempt count in exchange for a bit of discomfort.

Still, by Nevren's calculations, he'd wasted nearly a full day with this single passcode. At least during that, he'd explored everywhere else in the place with some strenuous Teleports throughout the area in his death throes.

But, alas, all terrible things must come to an end. Now, he was staring ahead at the final hallway of the Castle, which at this point he had completely and meticulously explored for any potential secrets and advantages he could make use of now that Alexander was under his control. He couldn't risk prodding him with too many questions or he'd get suspicious. His hold on Alexander was tenuous suggestion, but that was all he needed.

The air behind the strange password-protected door was stagnant. There had been no prints on the keys, either, nor signs of wear and tear that were relevant. People did not open it often. The ground was cold and dusty against Nevren's feet, and a little disturbingly wet. Just damp enough that perhaps a leak had never been cleaned.

He slipped and caught himself. He considered Revising that, but nobody would have seen it. Therefore, it didn't happen anyway.

Then came another door. At first, Nevren felt a pang of panic—but no. It was a plain, metal door with an unlocked knob. He turned it with ease, only to realize the knob was just for show. He pushed it unceremoniously open.

Rancid air crinkled his moustache. Nevren took a step back on reflex, bringing a hand to his nose as if that'd shield him from the all-encompassing, sour odor. It was like a concentrated, boiled-down version of the red water of the Voidlands, somewhere between liquid rust and rotten fruit.

But the chamber itself was empty, utterly empty. The air had a strange, blurry haze that made it hard to see more than twenty feet ahead, and with that distance, he couldn't see the other side. The walls near him were gently and consistently curved. Assuming the chamber was circular, it had a diameter of a hundred feet or so, enough to act as a battle arena. But Nevren doubted battles ever happened in this room, so closed off in the depths of Cipher Castle.

No, there was something else here. This emptiness… it was once occupied. But by what?

He had a few kilos' worth of Resets before time would've advanced too far for comfort in the surface world. He decided to spend them investigating this chamber for Alexander's final secret…

As it turned out, all Owen truly needed was a nice, long rest. He was walking with a spring in his step, his tail swished behind him and left little embers in his wake, and even the sun was brighter than usual. Everything was better.

It was nice to be home again. In the human world, he felt a lingering guilt over leaving everything behind. That restlessness didn't allow him to properly relax. But now? Somehow, even with danger looming over the horizon, it was… better.

He wasn't sure why Hot Spot was so empty, though. Had he slept in?

They were probably in town. Owen stretched his wings once he entered the main chambers of Hot Spot. It used to be fully enclosed, but Amia decided to keep the blown-open mountainside as a new feature of the settlement. It helped that the rain didn't get into any of the caves, aside from Zena's, which they'd carved out a subtle slope for the water to flow into it.

Owen made a short flight to the traditional entrance of Hot Spot, as if it called him there. He landed without a thought and spread his limbs to enjoy more sunlight. His flame blazed. "This is gonna be the day," Owen whispered to himself, thumping his tail on the ground.

And in response, the earth heaved.

"Wh-whoa!"

Owen kicked off the ground to fly, but the ground seemingly caught up to him, the bottoms of his feet touching grass even as he tried to fly higher. With a grunt, he suddenly found himself belly-down, unable to stand, yet it felt like he was rising.

"What's—going on?! Hello?!"

The ground only two feet away from him disappeared. This part of the ground… was rising sky-high! With another strained grunt, he rolled off the rising earth and fell into a glide.

The entirety of Hot Spot—the whole mountainside that was exposed to the fields—now sat atop a great shell. Four hulking limbs, each one the width of a house, held the shell up, and poking out the front was a wide, earth-covered head. A Torterra of truly gigantic proportions.

Owen landed on his feet before staggering onto his rear, gasping from surprise. His Perceive didn't pick up on that.

A few seconds passed where Owen and the gigantic Torterra merely stared at one another. His massive eyes were somehow… judgmental and distant at the same time. He gave off a presence of divinity more than Barky ever did.

"…Oh, I get it," Owen said. "I'm dreaming! That explains it. Well, sorry, vision of a giant Torterra, but I'm a little busy in the real world, and—"

"Did you really," the Torterra said, his mouth not moving, "forget me?"

Owen blinked. He scratched under his chin and squeezed his eyes shut. "…Mmm… Oh! F-Forrest!?"

They hadn't met in person in centuries, but…

"Good. I was worried you lost your memories again."

Owen winced. "Look, most of those weren't even my fault…" He sighed. "Wait—are you real? Or am I dreaming? I don't think we've talked to each other since you died. And even then, I was in your dreams!"

"I thought it prudent to return the favor."

Fair enough.

It was all coming back to Owen, now, though it was largely an afterthought. When he was within the Worldcore, he'd whispered to all the Guardians he could contact in their dreams, especially while they meditated. Forrest was, of course, one of them, though he was not very talkative. The Torterra—the Ground Guardian, killed by Hunters before he could have been rescued—hadn't put up a fight when his Orb was harvested. Instead, he used that opportunity to cross the aura sea. He suspected he'd find a key for solving Kilo's crisis there.

But that was all Owen knew. Amid all the chaos and fighting in the living world, Owen only knew fleeting aspects of that world beyond the aura sea, the new afterlife after Necrozma had been sealed in the Voidlands. Apparently, the rest of Team Alloy had visited there when the realms were collapsing…

"Okay," Owen mumbled. "Sorry, I had to sort out my memories. It's a lot, and you were kind of in the back."

"I don't mind." Forrest lowered his head and rested his shell on the ground once more. The earth trembled with the gesture.

"Were you… always this big?" Owen asked.

"Not this big, no," he said. "I was very large as a Guardian. When I was killed, my body returned to its normal size, leaving a crater in the salt flat. Do you recall the account from your friends?"

"I, yeah. I do. Rhys buried your body in the soil… You know, out of respect."

"Yes. My tree is still there," Forrest replied.

Owen nodded solemnly. "…Yeah… I'm sorry that happened at all. You know the Hunters are disbanded now, right? They're allies again, and—"

"I know all that has transpired," Forrest replied coolly. "The steady flow of the dead into Astral Kilo is more than enough to supply me with that knowledge, as well as a few other tricks."

"…What… do you mean by that?" Owen asked. "And why are you contacting me now? Wait!" He sprang to his feet. "You found it, didn't you? The—the key! The hidden key across—"

"I don't want to get your hopes up," Forrest said. While his words were slow, his response was fast, dashing Owen's prospects. "No. There was… no obvious key or easy answer to the crisis of Kilo. Admittedly… I should have known, since Hecto also manages this place. But I never trusted him."

"Hecto… Right." He remembered the Overseer in his Dusknoir form watching over the flow of spirits into a great light—that must have been 'Astral Kilo.' "He's an Overseer, which you probably know now. He's here to help us."

"Hmmm…"

"…C'mon, you're not about to tell me that he's secretly, like, making sure I lose, right?" Owen asked with a nervous smile. "I mean… maybe this is just a trick in a dream, right? I don't really know if Alexander has that power, though, uh—"

"It isn't that he's working against you," Forrest said, eyes closed. "But… I think you do not understand the position of who Hecto is, or who Necrozma is and what he stands for."

Owen frowned but took a more attentive stance, bringing his feet together to listen sitting down.

"Do you believe Zygarde Hecto and Necrozma 'Valle' are aligned, or opposed?"

"Well, they used to be opposed, but now we're on the same—"

"At least while they were themselves… they have always been aligned."

Owen flinched into silence.

"The Overseers are an organization that crosses realms upon realms. A network that observes every reality, and steps in only when things have gone truly awry. They go by many names, many divisions, and they do not necessarily all communicate with each division at once… Leaderless, they instead follow a philosophy of order and stability. One where realities stay largely to themselves… and where suffering in excess is curbed. Those are their two primary tenants."

"How do you know all this?" Owen asked.

"Hecto and I talk often," Forrest said simply. "His stationed fragments on the aura sea are—"

"Wait, but that's impossible," Owen said. "Hecto only has a hundred copies of himself, and they're all on Kilo!"

"Do you really think," Forrest said, "Hecto is limited to something so arbitrary by some rule of strength?"

Owen blinked. "…Y… yes?"

Forrest stared for a while longer, but then closed his eyes. "…I suppose you're correct."

Owen nearly fell over but shouted, "Then how is he there, too?!"

"He is limited in the physical realm. But he has further reach in other planes within this reality—in other words, Astral Kilo, as its guardian of the temporary afterlife set up when Necrozma was defeated."

Owen mulled that over as he crossed his arms and wings again. This was all so sudden, but… that alone made him curious.

"Hey, Forrest," he said. "I know you want to tell me all this, but… the timing is strange. Why are you doing it right now? Why didn't you reach out to me like this way earlier? You knew I was doing that from the Worldcore, so…"

"It's because I couldn't until recently," said Forrest, "and that even if I tried, Hecto would not have allowed it."

"Let me guess. Overseer stuff?"

"You learn fast. To be expected of a Charizard." Forrest nodded slowly.

"What rule is that, then? That you can't interfere?"

To that, Forrest sighed and leaned to the side.

"Essentially, yes," Forrest said. "Stability and peace. It is a careful balance. The stability of a world unfettered by the greater forces beyond its realm, without the knowledge of the Overworld or the Overseers who watch over the gods. But that is in contrast with the peace that is always threatened by local conflicts, and how, sometimes, knowledge of realms beyond can assuage it… or worsen it."

"I can think of a lot of ways where just knowing could… help a lot of people," Owen said softly.

"But it would take away something special from the world if we do," Forrest said. "I can't say I agree. But I am only stating it because that is the decision the gods unanimously decided. That the experience in a realm without Overworld knowledge is preferred. I must pick my battles, so I choose not to fight this one."

"Right. Because you picked another battle by interfering today."

"Correct. Owen… what I will tell you may alter the course of your plans. I hope you are not dedicated to one just yet."

Owen tensed. Admittedly, he was. For once, everything had finally fallen into place. Everything would work out if he could execute his part well enough.

"…Owen," Forrest said, and the way he spoke was different. Like he'd changed subjects. "Why do you shoulder the world?"

"Huh?" Owen leaned to the side at the Torterra's back. "…You sure you should be the one asking that?"

"Very funny." Forrest stared, expression unmoving. "But the question is pivotal, and it is a mistake I see you making time and time again."

The Charizard's flame sparked. He wanted to defy it, but… he listened quietly. If Forrest had observed as much as he had, then maybe the insight would be necessary.

"Your plans, your schemes, everything is with noble intentions. I don't doubt that… Yet, Owen… you place yourself at the center. You trust your friends, but only to help, not to lead. Even though you were once naturally… a follower."

Owen's flame rose again. "But I'm not one anymore."

"That you aren't," Forrest agreed. "But perhaps now, you are… overcompensating, in some ways. Owen… do you see yourself a god one day? The very position you'd denied before?"

"I don't," Owen said quickly.

"Then why do you make decisions like one?" Forrest replied just as quickly.

Owen held back a snarl. That was ridiculous. What was Forrest talking about? He was relying more and more on others…

"Maybe that was true a thousand years ago," he said, "But… I need my friends—I need all of Kilo to make this work. Sure, I'm strategizing, but I'm just a tactician! I have some power, but against someone like Alexander? I need more than just me to beat him. I'm not going to take him on alone the way he is now. And then there's Nevren, too…"

Forrest stared silently. Analyzing him. Judging him? Owen couldn't tell. His Perceive couldn't reach most of Forrest's body. And, frankly, he didn't know how well it worked in a world of dreams.

"I hope I was mistaken, then," Forrest said. "Please don't forget this. But, Owen, I must also warn you… that even if you do not see yourself as a god, even if you do not want the world on your shoulders… you are, even temporarily, putting yourself in that position. And if you lose yourself to that responsibility, and if you blind yourself with duty over common sense, you will lose."

At first, Owen didn't understand. But then he thought about his time as Wishkeeper.

"What am I supposed to do instead?" Owen asked. "What did you see? What are you predicting—and how? Do you… have a shard of the Worldcore, or something?"

"Astral Kilo has a similar entity. In fact, it may be the very same one," Forrest said. "But my act of speaking to you now will throw all those predictions into disarray. I'm sure you understand the mechanics behind that."

Owen nodded. He also figured Hecto relied on something similar, then… That also explained why he so rarely interfered. Wait—

"I chose to tell this to you now," Forrest said just as realization flashed in Owen's eyes, "because this is the one time where Hecto will not find out, and it is the time when I will have the most impact. It is my one betrayal that I am afforded before Hecto and the Overseers deem me… unreliable. But Hecto will not find out about my lie until it's all paid off." Forrest smiled faintly.

"You mean… because he only checks each night," Owen said. "…Ah! But that means…!"

"Yes, Owen. From my observations of all of Kilo and all of the Voidlands and what little remains of it, from Hecto's scouting and the flow of divine power…

"When you wake up, should you not defeat Alexander before nightfall, Kilo will not see its next sunrise."