This work is a piece of historical fiction. While inspired by real events, cultures, and practices in human history, the story blends factual history with fictional characters, dramatizations, and creative interpretation.
It is not intended to promote, glorify, or encourage any illegal activities, substance use, or harmful behavior. All depictions of sensitive topics are included solely for narrative and historical context.
Reader discretion is advised.
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Earth-199999.
~521 BE (Before Emergence) ~ 1502 CE (Current Era).
Life rarely lets you through without surprises, both the welcome and unwelcome kind. One day you're analyzing patterns in the macrodistortions of the intersection between the temporal flow and the time-space mesh, and the next, all readings scream at you through the screen that the entire Sacred Timeline is in danger.
You're promoted from your comfortable desk job into a field position. Now you hold the rank of Captain and are in charge of an elite unit of just 10 minutemen. You're told that after a month of trying to take control of air superiority, it has been determined that although the cause is unknown, the skies belong to no side. Hence, there is a need for an elite unit such as yours to venture into the deep zone of variation and run reconnaissance...
I have a terrible feeling about this...
The climate is cold, yet the jungle is lush. Plants that should have long gone extinct—according to my visual interface—populate the area. Tracks and marks of animals too large to be from this era are easily spotted. The air is rich with one of the many forms of lifeforce, similar in nature to chi.
Then we have the rogue variant in the room: the obelisks that, if asked, I would say belong at least to the 27th century, post the Era of Reckoning.
It took the analysts a while to recognize that the structures are partially phased through the material plane, which was never thought to be possible—at least not in such a permanent and stable state.
"Captain, water body ahead," Minuteman 784512 informed.
After finally emerging into a clearing, a lake with strange machinery appeared in our way.
It was as if conveyor belts were emerging from the depths of the lake, with the end destination being a main belt that carried the load—whatever that may be—to a building near the opposite shore.
"Readings?" I asked.
"Same as before. Nothing alive aside from plants, not even fish," Minuteman 986532 informed me.
"It's possible they knew this war was coming and had evacuated beforehand," Minuteman 858283 said.
"That's what scares me the most," I said.
"Captain?" Minuteman 858283 asked.
"The fortifications we struck—if they were expecting us—why did they build such defensive structures but leave them unmanned?" I said.
"The working theory is that they were automated defensive facilities," Minuteman 784512 replied.
"That doesn't explain the emptiness of the land, nor the ban on air travel," Minuteman 986532 countered. "This place was clearly populated just before the war started. Look at the machinery in front of us—they were collecting some form of resource from the lake. It's all completely abandoned now, yet there's no evidence of nature trying to lay claim to it."
"Not that I want to scare my own unit, but even the situation with the obelisks is suspicious," I said.
"It's as the Captain said," Minuteman 986532 nodded. "We can't approach the structures, and unless the Generals are willing to bring technology of the dimensional type, we would risk a dimensional incursion if we tried to force our way inside."
"Captain, I don't feel like wasting time here anymore," Minuteman 784512 shuddered after understanding our implied statement: this was all a massive trap.
"Mark this location, and let's continue with the planned route. Our task is reconnaissance, not infiltration," I commanded.
"As you comm—"
Just as Minuteman 858283 spoke, we all heard it.
A movement in the foliage.
This was a jungle, so it wasn't strange for there to be background sounds. Except this sound was unmistakably that of a living being—or something—moving through the foliage, and that was abnormal.
This place was abandoned, but even while erring on the side of caution, we kept our standard bio-signaling scanning systems active at all times. So it was impossible for anything to have sneaked up on us.
With our weapons ready, we all spun to face the direction from which the sound came, yet... there was nothing there.
I tapped my specs and started the automatic filtering function. It basically went through all the visual filters it was equipped for.
The Electromagnetic Spectrum Scanning filters went first—infrared, visible spectrum, ultraviolet, radio waves, microwaves, and more, one after the other. No abnormality detected.
Acoustic Scanning came next—echolocation and seismic imagery were just as useless.
Mass spectrometry was not very useful, and radiation and neutrino detection were not working properly in an atmosphere so dense with dark matter, dark energy, and vitality.
Psychic scanning was useless because there was a psionic field covering the entire zone of variation. Temporal readings came back empty, so I was sure it was not a chronotic ghost.
But dimensional scanning showed me the despairing truth.
I slowly raised my hands, not before activating the beacon to let command know that my unit had fallen, and commanded, "Lower your weapons," to my unit. They did not second-guess my order, lowered their kinetic blasters, copied my stance, and raised their hands.
"We surrender willingly," I addressed the team surrounding us.
"Which spectrum did we fail?" asked a playful voice.
"It couldn't have been anything related to mass or energy," another voice commented. She sounded more interested in knowing how I discovered we were surrounded than in anything else.
"It's gotta be one of those annoying devices that tap into the quantum," another voice spoke. This one sounded older, carrying an undertone of authority.
"That can't be it, boss. We are dimensionally phased—we are not quantum phasing," the first voice chimed in.
"Don't you know the divine texts? Divinicom, Annoying Troupes 87:12 'It's always quantum bullshit that gets you. Watch out for that crap!'" the older voice spoke with the air of a teacher and a priest.
"Bah!" the female voice scoffed. "I bet the Head wrote that part to prove a point about how we shouldn't follow the Divinicom words at face value."
"So? Which one was it?" the first voice addressed me.
"Interdimensionality scanning," I replied. We equipped those at the last minute after the obelisks were discovered to be partially phased through the material plane.
"Mhmm," the voice replied before he came into the regular plane, and we finally got a glance at our enemy. "Makes sense. Our so-called DimXTech is a fairly new field of study."
Soon, the other two voices came out of hiding. They wore black full-body armor with glowing highlights. At first glance, I would say their armor matches some of the historical records of the 22nd century, but humanity only started to tinker with dimensional technology of this level at the start of the 26th century.
"[Exarmare]," the leader, who wore armor with bluish-white highlights, said, and a casting circle appeared above us. Great, a magitech civilization!
The magic seemed to turn our bodies intangible and then pull our weaponry, armor, devices, and clothing. We were left naked in this cold jungle.
"Inverted nipples? Those are rare in the Imperium—only seen in humans," the female wearing the armor with red highlights commented while facing one of my female soldiers.
"Don't mind her. Not all of us think with sex in our brains. It's mostly Goddess Yelena's believers," the other man—the one wearing green highlights—said, as if trying to reassure us.
"Let's finish our task before their reinforcements arrive," the leader commanded. "By Imperial rules of engagement and divine script found in the Divinicon, your dignity as sapient organic life, lives, and mental wellbeing within acceptable parameters shall be guaranteed, so long as you have not participated in lumencide.
"Know that I am blessed by Goddess Slava. As such, you can't lie to me. Please declare your culpability in relation to lumencide," the leader addressed us.
My men looked at each other, confused, until they settled their gazes on me. I understood their meaning.
"I apologize, but we don't recognize the word 'lumencide' in our language. Could you explain its meaning?" I asked. I was wearing the latest version of the omniversal translator, so I knew we heard it right, but the word itself had no meaning in our language.
"Lumencide refers to the murder of those of pure souls. Children, saints—not in the ecclesiastical sense, but in the karmic sense—toddlers, infants, and such," the female explained.
"That's not the nature of our job in the TVA. We protect the Sacred Timeline, so, of course, we have killed children," I said, but that was not what I wanted to say... ... ... What?
"I see. You won't be given Sapiental Rights—human rights, in your language—and are hereby declared enemies of the Head," the leader declared with finality.
"No! Captain! What are you talking about? We did kill children!" Minuteman 784512 shouted. Not a second later, he understood what he had just said.
"What's going on?!" Minuteman 1566M asked, alarmed.
"You can't lie to a blessed one of the Goddess of Truth," the man in green highlights said, his voice cold.
"I didn't want to believe the Head when he informed us that the Time Variance Authority was composed of lumenciderers," the female said, her voice laced with disgust.
"I told you you shouldn't doubt the Head when it comes to Lumencide," the leader began to preach.
"No, no, you gotta doubt the Head at all times!" the female said. "My parents were part of the team that was sent to planet M89ZX to mine dragonium, only to later find out it was an imaginary element the Head invented to mess with them."
"Well, enough of that. Let's process the scum before the other potential scum arrives," the leader commanded.
Our three captors raised their hands at us. Casting circles appeared, and before I could hear the name of the incantation, I felt as if someone had turned the light... off... in the world... and I...
————————————————
"Boss, wouldn't it be easier to report that all enemies are to be treated as non-sapient?" the Duskari in green asked after the last Minutemen fell unconscious to the spell cast.
"I'm sure our commander already knows that the TVA is filled with scum," the female Duskari in red quipped. "I bet this first operation is meant to confirm that."
"It's as Solaris says," the Duskari in bluish-white nodded. "Command ordered this first operation to confirm the Head's intel. Our unit and the thousands of others have the same objective."
"That makes sense. Most of the weaponry I heard we're testing in this war is not apt for those who still have their Sapiental Rights," the Duskari in green nodded.
While they discussed the nature of their mission, the Duskari cast [Aërolevitas]—the ancient spell of wind attribute initially created by the Duskari to mimic the Therions' telekinesis—and carried the bodies of the unconscious Minutemen to the nearest Obelisk for warping to The Ark.
About 20 minutes later, a rushing team of Minutemen made it to the 'crime' scene, only to find the traces of their fellow soldiers, but not of the Duskari that ambushed them. In their eyes, it was as if they had suddenly disappeared for no reason whatsoever.
Mountains, valleys, plains, shores, rivers, and lakes—it mattered not the terrain—the TVA's reconnaissance teams disappeared, leaving behind naught but their own people's trail.
The initial priority had been stealth, so no recon team had been larger than six individuals. But as these teams began to vanish, they had no other choice but to increase their numbers and utilize far more advanced scanning tech.
When each team settled into 10–15 member squads, the disappearances ceased.
However, for the Duskari—who were actively luring more and more TVA personnel—this was great news.
For the TVA, while oblivious to the Duskari's objectives, things were looking up. They began making progress in combing through the Isthmus from the north and south to the center. And the fact that their squads had stopped disappearing told them many things about their enemy—or so they believed.
For example, based on the level of stealth, they could surmise that their enemy was not great in open confrontations. Based on the fact that their enemy appeared to be using guerrilla tactics, they could assume that their numbers were not great. And the fact that most cities and machinery they found as they moved to the center of the Isthmus were automated to a high degree only served to reinforce this conclusion.
However, about two months after the first photonic detonations, the nature of the enemy's warfare style changed.
"AMBUSH!!!"
The Duskari forwent stealth and adopted a more direct style of confrontation. They were still not clashing head-on and would retreat upon the first indication of challenge from the TVA, but at least now they could officially put a face to their enemies—even if said faces were concealed behind black full-face mask helmets.
"[Traben Lucis]" A small yet potently bright magic circle appeared at the tip of a Duskari's index finger. The Duskari aimed at the advancing troops, and soon—
"GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!"
—A concentrated beam of light pierced forward.
With stealth out of the way, the Duskari resorted to more direct and brutal tactics.
They started small, with elemental attack spells. Fire lances, air currents that would asphyxiate their targets, spears grown from the ground up, water used to drown enemies, lightning strikes, and light attacks.
The TVA had to once more escalate the level of tech they provided to their Minutemen.
Because of how careful they were about losing future tech in the past—especially in war, where things get lost in the squabble—their policies restricted the level and amount of tech they had access to.
But as the Duskari elevated the level of complexity of the war, the TVA had no choice other than to respond in kind.
Soon, like any terrestrial invading force does, the TVA managed to secure roads.
To be fair, these were not exactly roads—not the type used by the Imperium. Due to Aragorn's adamant conservation of green areas for the Megafauna, the Isthmus rarely felled forests to build roads, as these would cut through the conservation areas. They mostly operated through the coasts and subterranean ways.
With the North and South Canals connecting the Caribbean with the Pacific, and due to most of their cities being located on islands, near the coasts, and along navigable rivers, aquatic transportation was feasible in the Isthmus.
The Imperium was also a very old empire, even in galactic terms, so the fact that they counted with entire underground ways connecting the Isthmus North-South and West-East after hundreds of thousands of years was no surprise.
Which is why the TVA had taken so long to find roads to traverse. Although what they found couldn't exactly be called roads—as these were vestigial in nature, roads built before the first Deviant invasions—it was enough for them.
They began with armed wheeled vehicles and tanks, and with that, the TVA gained momentum.
... Well, the Duskari then replied in kind. That's when the war exploded into the classic rendition most imagine of a modern war.
Tanks, foot soldiers, ambushes, guerrilla warfare, and more could now be found in the war.
Then the Duskari began to up their game: bipedal war machines carrying rocket launchers as if they were assault rifles, wielding flamethrowers that put to shame a firefighter's hose—these were their taunt to the TVA.
The TVA had no choice but to retaliate.
"This war... it keeps escalating," Judge Ravonna Renslayer muttered. "Is that perhaps their intention?"
"Are you implying that they are suffering casualties, allowed us to step into their territory, and have been slowly upping their warfare level to get us to reply in kind?" Judge Gamble asked.
"I don't want to agree, but I think Judge Renslayer has a point," Judge Dox commented. "Do you think they may be trying to use this war as a weapons testing exercise?"
"An empire this advanced?" Judge Gamble countered.
Based on basic extrapolation backed by data analysis, they had surmised the ring around the Moon (Halo) belonged to their enemy. Hence, it was clear to them that their enemy was at least a spacefaring civilization.
This information was contradictory on its own, because they found no trace of their enemy's presence anywhere else outside Earth. Also, if they were really dealing with a spacefaring civilization, then why was the initial response to their photonic bombing and intrusion so weak and tame?
Without conjectures and based on empirical data, the TVA could only tilt their heads in confusion when wondering about the objective of their enemy. Judge Renslayer's deduction, while factually correct, could have been just as mistaken as any other.
"I believe an entity is puppeteering this civilization from behind the scenes; it could be one of the old enemies of the Timekeepers," Judge Gamble suggested.
"Then, is it possible that the war's purpose is to stall our advance and achieve an objective that could be escape or something more nefarious in nature?" Judge Renslayer asked.
"That's the problem with our lack of information—both guesses could be equally wrong," Judge Dox shook her head in exasperation. "Now we have these large units showing up. Next, aerial combat will probably be unbanned. But what's next? There's only so much tech we have confiscated throughout the years from pruned timelines. Even our resources have limits."
Frustration was an apt word to describe their mood, but there was also fear and uncertainty mixed in.
Normally, when a variant is born, a timeline begins with it. The variant becomes the beginning, the branching point, so it's only a matter of pruning the variant to prune the timeline.
The Sacred Timeline is considered sacred because it's from it that 'everything' is born—the starting point. The problem with the zone of variation is that it is located within the Sacred Timeline; it didn't branch off into an entirely new timeline. So, even while waging this war, in the heads of the Judges, there were already concerns about how they were going to fix the deviation in the Sacred Timeline.
If you add the unpredictability of the enemy to the equation, their concerns gain validity and escalate exponentially.
About a year into the war, as the Judges feared, aerial space became part of the battlefield.
————————————————
This is not what I imagined life serving the all-knowing Timekeepers would be like.
My unit—if there's anyone left after that aircraft debris fell onto us—is under heavy fire. Now, this is war. There's nothing strange about that. Is there anything?
NO!
This isn't war. I don't know what it is, but I refuse to believe this is war.
It's been a year, and so far we haven't seen a single enemy body. It's not that we haven't felled any of them—if that were the case, I would have ended myself by now—the problem is that they shimmer and teleport upon defeat. And apparently, instant death equals a bodily detonation.
FUCK! They are fucking psychos!
You wound them, they teleport. You kill them? Then you better brace yourself for a fucking detonation. They've got to be mental!
BOOOOOM
"FUCK!" There goes another one.
"FUCKTARD! SHOOT TO WOUND, NOT TO KILL!" the captain shouted.
I remember when I first met Capt. Avinova. She was such a well-mannered and gentle-faced woman—I may or may not have fantasized about a life with her. Now...
"DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE OR GET REKT I DON'T FUCKING CARE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" the captain shouted with a grin so ferocious I could swear I heard her growl.
"Captain! Sector Alpha Foxtrot One One Seven has gone dark!"
Oh, I see. Another Minuteman of my unit lives. I thought only the captain and I had survived. There goes my dream of making it out of this alive alone with the captain and having her fall for me.
"WHO CARES?!!! JUST AIM AND SHOOT! NOTHING ELSE MATTERS!" the captain snarled.
Ah, such fierceness. Is this perhaps the gap moe Hunter Makil spoke about? Well, I won't know now. Hunter Makil was one of the first to go. I heard he disappeared in one of the first recon missions. Poor guy, went from a desk job to a captain only to disappear before enjoying the benefits the job entailed.
VMMMMVMMMMM
Shit! That's a fucking bird of prey.
"BIRD! INCOMING!" I shouted with all the strength my injuries allowed.
BOOOOOOOOOM
Too late.
RINNNNNNNNG
Shit, I think I blew my eardrum. I thought the armor was supposed to cover for that. But, well, it wouldn't be the first time these monsters showed up with something to fuck up our expectations. I heard a rumor that Command believes they are systematically escalating the war—who knows?
Fuck, where's my regenpen?
I look for a regenpen in my supplies backpack, but... fuck. It was damaged when we bunkered in this stupid, godforsaken cold-ass jungle.
Oh? I think I see another supply bag. I wonder whose it was.
I crawled, like the worm this war makes me feel like, through the damp, cold mud and made my way to the supply bag. All the while, I could hear nothing but the shaking of the ground through my body, reminding me that we were still under enemy fire. Or was it another unit? Who knows? I know that I know fucking nothing.
When I finally made it to the bag, I had to remove the ripped arm that—even after the untimely separation from their body—was holding onto it. What a brave and loyal limb. You served your previous owner well. Go in pieces, soldier!
But fucking lucky me, I found three regenpens in this bag.
I hurriedly stabbed one in my neck and felt the sweet release of regeneration formula flow into my veins.
RINNNNNNnnggBOOMBOOM
There we go. No more fucking ringing in my fucking ears—now it's just the fucking booming sound of the fucking booms.
"SHIT! What are they even shooting at us?" I raised my face while complaining—as if that helped—only to discover that now, truly, it was only me and the captain.
This is it! This is my time to shine. I shall carry the captain to safety, she'll undoubtedly fall for me, then we shall mate like rabbits, and sometime later we would be the proud parents of ten Minutechildren!
That is, if the captain is still alive. Her unresponsive body doesn't make for a hopeful case—I turned to the place the other soldier was previously standing—but at least she's in one piece, contrary to Minuteman GH78.
I crawled my way to the captain and linked her virtual assistant to mine. She was indeed alive—with a broken spine, a classical concussion, a collapsed lung, a ruptured spleen, and—I gazed at her legs—two mangled legs.
"Mmmm, it could be worse," I commented before stabbing her with one of the regenpens. Then, after glancing at her legs and the other regenpen, I stabbed her with it as well. Just in case.
That should do it, though she is not waking up anytime soon.
Fuck! What now? We'll probably die if we seek the sounds of the distant detonations. We barely have weaponry and supplies to hold out for a day in a siege.
I can receive, but I'm unable to transmit. These monsters have proven to be able to track comms.
Then I felt it through the ground—the thrumming sound of one of the bipedal monstrosities walking.
No, no, it could be the result of rhythmically timed explosions. I searched for a puddle, and soon enough, I held my breath as I located one.
One second... the water surface was calm.
Two seconds... it trembled slightly with a distant explosion.
Three seconds... it was calm.
Four seconds... it fucking trembled.
Five seconds... it trembled once fucking more.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
"Fuck my life!"
I gazed at my unconscious captain-waifu... Is it worth it?
She'll slow me down...
She'll consume part of my supplies...
She'll affect my mobility...
...
...
...
"FUCK IT! I'm not dying a virgin!"
I hurled Capt. Avinova onto my back and bolted out of there as fast as I could.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
I felt the bipedal mechanized monstrosity breathing on my neck.
"FUCK!"
My legs burned, my lungs were boiling, my breath tasted of blood, and my heart wanted to give up since yesterday.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
We breached into a clearing and I spotted an edge in the distance—maybe a cliff. Whatever it was, it was better than the certain death behind me.
"AGH! FUCK MY LIFE!"
Capt. Avinova's weight felt heavier than my unrealistic expectations for the future.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
I spotted evidence of water erosion along my path. I bet there's a stupid river beyond that cliff. I just hope it has enough water to buffer our fall.
VMMMMVMMMMM
A bird of prey flew overhead. Fuck! Is this it? Am I dying a virgin? I haven't even held hands with a woman!
But when it looked like my suffering was over, I heard the unmistakable sound of one of our fighters flying after the enemy bird.
"YES! FUCK THEM UP!"
I hyped myself, not forgetting the looming threat behind me.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
The monstrosity was closing in.
But I could finally catch a glimpse of the cliff's edge. I halted to a complete stop; the weight of my future wife almost carried me over the edge.
I narrowed my eyes at the bottom of the cliff.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
It was not only deep enough for the fall damage to bypass the protection of our armor—the surface was also frozen solid.
"I HATE THIS GELID JUNGLE. IT DOESN'T MAKE FUCKING SENSE!"
I cried out loud.
BOOOOOM
My despair was interrupted by the distant explosion of the fighter. Now the bird of prey was coming my way.
"PERFECT!" I intonated the P and curled the R with disgust. "Fucking perfect," I murmured after turning back to the forest.
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
Like a natural disaster, trees fell aside, the ground trembled, and the forest parted to make way for the bipedal mechanized monster.
"FUCK THIS! FUCK YOU! AND FUCK THIS PLACE!"
I pulled my rifle and switched it to [Charge Loading]. I pulled the trigger once, and the weapon began loading all of its battery into one charge.
It heated in my hold, and I felt it vibrate softly, yet escalatingly.
I counted my seconds, then I threw it down the cliff. I faced the incoming monster and the flying bird and flashed them the finger before jumping down without a care.
My weapon detonated just in time to break the ice and explode a column of water upward to cushion our fall. Like my lovelife, the water was cold and evoked a sense of hopelessness.
I could tell we survived the fall, but now, I can't spot the surface. It looks like the ice froze overhead.
I touched my leg holster and found my combat knife still with me. That's great, because there's no way in hell I'm going to die drowning. I'll slit my throat before that point—and that of my future wife.
Then I heard muffled impacts, followed by an explosion that sounded as if it had gone off between my stupid ears. I think the monsters are shooting the river.
Well, that's not my problem. The current is so violent I doubt I'm anywhere near where I fell.
I tried to swim upward, but my future wife was the deadweight she has been ever since we future-married.
Fuck, I'm gonna drown.
What was it that Hunter Makil said about swimming in frozen water?
Think...
Think...
Think...
Think...
I'm dying...
Think...
I reached for my knife.
Think...
Think...
This is it...
I held my future wife with one arm and placed the knife to her throat...
Think...
The current was hurtling us faster...
Think...
I put pressure on the knife and got ready to cut. I won't hold for long...
Ah! I fucking remember!
'Seek the dark spots overhead. The ice disperses light, so it shines from underneath—liquid water doesn't.' That's what he said.
I turned to look overhead... it was all bright white.
No dark spots.
No escape.
No, no, no, no! There's gotta be a way out.
I looked at my future wife's face, lowered my gaze to her body, and located salvation—and I'm not talking about her badonkers. I found a rifle battery strapped to her chest.
I holstered my knife in my leg holster and then activated the battery. I held the activation button for the five fucking longest seconds of my life and then felt it warm up, just like my rifle had done before.
I held it with my gauntlet to the frozen ceiling of my underwater entrapment and then braced for it.
The battery recognized my gauntlet's signature and reconfigured itself to claymore mode.
BOOOOM
Sound travels more easily through water than air. This meant that while the explosion was directed away from us, the sound wasn't. I blew up my eardrums again—and I'm pretty sure the captain's too.
But that was a problem for later.
I emerged hurriedly, escaping the current that was about to drag us away from the recently created hole, and gasped for air.
I sank the claws of my gauntlets into the ice and anchored myself.
Breathe in...
Breathe out...
Breathe in...
Cough
Cough out water.
I checked on the captain's biometrics and found she had stopped breathing.
"FUCK!"
I fought to climb my way out of the freezing water and onto the ice. I laid my future wife on her back and then removed her cracked helmet. I started CPR.
"Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother"
"You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive"
I followed the rhythm of the song, my chest compressions beating to it.
"Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin'"
"And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive"
I shared my first kiss with my future wife. Her lips did not taste like strawberries, more like iron-rich blood.
"Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive"
Future wife, if you die now, my chances of losing my virginity will be buried with you! Come on!
"Ah, ha, ha,—"
"COUGH!" My future wife lives!
I turned her to the side, and she let everything out.
Finally, some good news. This woman better not turn down my marriage proposal.
Things are looking up. I don't spot any of the bipedal monstrosities, and I can't hear any birds flying overhead. Great!
"That was impressive, I thought the water was gonna do you in."
I turned to the voice and—
"Fuck!"
—spotted a ghost. Their standard black armor with glowing highlights gave them away after he came out of their dimensional phase.
"We surrender," I declared. I was not about to fight one of these monsters with only my combat knife.
This is the end of the line for us.
"Good choice," the figure nodded. "Quick question—have you ever pruned a pure soul?"
What the fuck is that?
"I haven't pruned anyone. This mission was my first assignment. I'm straight out of the academy," I replied.
"Oh, that's good for you. That means you get to keep your sapiental rights," the man cheerfully replied. He crouched on the other side of my still-unconscious future wife, and after making some strange finger signs, his hand lit up in green vitality.
I recognized that as the healing manifestation of chi. I think there was some strange kung fu dragon fist guy or something that used chi for combat and to light up dark rooms in the Sacred Timeline.
"Sapiental Rights?" I asked.
"It means human rights in your language, except there are more than just humans in the Imperium," he boasted. After a moment, the green chi went off, and then he said while pointing at us, "[Exarmare]." A moment later, we were naked.
I hurriedly moved to cover my future wife's privacy—definitely not to cop a feel—and gazed in askance at the monster.
"Worry not about her, but yourself," he chuckled.
I shivered upon feeling his gaze, through that faceless helmet, locked on my mighty dragonling.
This day sucks. Life is never what one imagines it to be.
"Honey, let's get you into a warm cell, shall we? I'll even do you a solid and file you and your girl in a conjugal cell," the man said, his gaze still prickling my mighty dragonling.
"Thanks, it would mean a lot to us," I succinctly replied.
Maybe life wasn't so bad after all.
————————————————
Like impossibly erect buoys, the peaks of the Obelisks floated amid the sea of clouds. On a clear day, the Isthmus, with its dorsal-like mountain ridge, surrounded by the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea, would be gracing the view with its magnificence.
(Like the towers in Altered Carbon, except black.)
On the top floor of one of these Obelisks, Mindee observed with an amused expression as Aragorn, perched on one of her tails in his honey badger form, fought to restrain his laughter.
"Grandfather, what are you chuckling about?" Mindee asked.
"There was this guy who pulled the most cinematic rescue I've seen this trimester, all because he convinced himself that the woman he was saving would become his wife," Aragorn said after controlling his chuckles.
"Is that what's got you in such a mood?" Mindee asked.
"She is homosexual. PFFTT! HAHAHAHA!" Aragorn exploded in laughter.
"Hahaha! Poor thing," Mindee joined in his laughter.
Fox and dragon laughed for a while. It only became funnier for Mindee when Aragorn shared the memory with her. Currently, all of the Isthmus was under his psionic field, and he was actively paying attention; hence, he witnessed the event even from such a distance.
"Mindee, when are they storming the Null-Time Zone and Void? They already acquired the tech, didn't they?" Aragorn asked after they settled down.
"Let's see," Mindee said while scrolling through a file in her P-Link. "So, to secure both entry and exit, the Duskari are developing their own temporal interference tech. There were some concerns about Victor Timely having installed countermeasures in the TVA's timesticks and tempads, so they are erring on the side of caution."
"That's smart. Even I don't trust how easily it looked in the TV show I watched," Aragorn approved. "As far as I know, biometric security is common practice in modern tech, so it made little sense how the TVA's tech could be easily accessible simply by switching hands."
"I had the impression that Victor Timely enabled that so that the Loki variant could assume the time throne," Mindee commented. She had watched Aragorn's pertaining memories, just as many Therions had.
"Yeah, I never really paid much attention. I had fun watching the series, and that was what mattered. Simpler times, as they say," Aragorn shrugged. "By the way, they are assembling a launching pad outside the north wall. It won't be long before they try to bomb this place from the upper atmosphere."
"It's only logical," Mindee nodded. "The Duskari don't see value in engaging in a fight in near space, so I believe they'll strike the TVA's spacecrafts with ground-to-air ammunition."
To the Duskari, who inherited the Dark Elves' technology, they found little value in further investing in spacefaring technology. They could already comfortably cruise at lightspeed, and warping was already second nature to their technology portfolio.
The Fulgebunt Draconis Imperium was already beyond the phase of development that saw space as the next frontier.
Sure, outer space was vast—almost infinitely so—and it only kept growing. The Duskari were not so arrogant as to claim to have traversed it all; that was far from the truth. They couldn't even confidently say they had traversed all the neighboring quadrants, even more so since they had been banned from historically important locations.
But, just like a human with money and a universal visa on Earth, the Duskari felt that the universe was within reach. Hence, they saw little benefit in improving further technology that had been perfected tens of thousands of years ago. At least not while there was other tech within reach that called to them.
Dimensional travel, temporal displacement, armament technology, and other fields that were born only after they became a proper intergalactic empire were a different matter. In those fields, they were indeed interested in improving.
So, as Mindee predicted, when the TVA launched their first spacecraft for near-space combat, the Duskari ground-to-air defenses came online.
On the tallest mountains of the main ridge, particle projector cannons, mass accelerators, archaic missile silos for rudimentary intercontinental ballistic missiles, and even the feared relativistic jet howitzers—which were inspired by black holes—all went live with the promise of destruction.
Starting with the rudimentary tech, the IBMs were launched first.
Even though this type of tech was considered rudimentary and archaic by Duskari standards, these missiles didn't carry the standard payload. So when they made contact with the TVA's still ascending spacecrafts, a new star lit the night sky.
It was as if a meteor had detonated in the atmosphere. The electromagnetic pulse created a spectacle that hadn't been seen in the equatorial parts of Earth since a certain solar flare spiced up the magnetosphere into covering most of Earth with an aurora borealis.
"I thought all fissile material had been set aside for research purposes," Aragorn commented.
"No, they passed a motion about three centuries ago to save some fissile material for mining operations and terraforming efforts," Mindee replied. "Sometimes a well-placed nuclear winter can reduce costs when terraforming a hostile planet."
"I have to say... That explosion came very close to the theoretical 100% yield," Aragorn commented.
"Yes, they worked out the art of nuclear fission and fusion to the best their current technology allowed. Last report said they were at 93% in efficiency," Mindee reported.
Taking the Little Boy nuclear bomb that will be dropped in Hiroshima into consideration, only about 1.38% of its uranium (U-235) will end up actually fissioning. The total amount of uranium will be about 64 kilograms (141 pounds), and the resulting explosion will have a yield equivalent to approximately 13 to 16 kilotons of TNT.
That's at 1.38% efficiency, so when a nuclear bomb of similar load was detonated in near space with an efficiency of 93%, the equivalent yield was about 833 kilotons of TNT.
"Can't they entangle all particles in the load and detonate it all simultaneously?" Aragorn asked.
"Yes, but they saw no need to make nuclear weapons more uselessly expensive," Mindee explained. "I think until the Duskari make a qualitative leap in technology, they won't improve the efficiency of nuclear weaponry. They are quite pleased with the way things are now."
"Fair enough," Aragorn nodded.
With a beautiful star burning bright in the night sky and the subsequent aurora, the second year of the war came to an end.
The repercussion of that explosion wasn't a simple dent in the wallets of both bands. The flash generated by an 833-kiloton nuclear explosion was bright enough to be seen across the Atlantic Ocean.
The Duskari were prepared, and the TVA's standard eyewear protection came equipped with filters for bright flashes. However, the local aborigines of the American continent and the first European invaders could only unknowingly pray to Aragorn in thanks, who expanded his psionic field and filtered out part of the bright flash.
The TVA's Judges' Council, though? They internally panicked.
It was one thing for the actions of the zone of variation to derail the Sacred Timeline from its path; it was another for their actions to do the derailing.
While they didn't launch the nuclear warhead, they were the reason for its launch.
In a room illuminated brightly by the glow of the screens projecting the nuclear flash, the three judges sat in heavy silence. They didn't need to voice their concern, for it was shared equally among their hearts.
Judge Ravonna Renslayer was the first to move; she typed in her interface in a rush and summoned a live graphic detailing the state of variation in the Sacred Timeline.
However, despite her concern, the result was minimal to no variation—so negligible that it was hard to determine if the nuclear explosion had any impact at all.
"This... How is this possible?" she muttered.
The other two judges, upon seeing the result of the readings, shared her astonishment.
"Check again," Judge Gamble said.
Judge Renslayer did not retort; she ran the software one more time and applied the mythical troubleshooting, born in ancient times. Clear cache, restart, plug-unplug the router, worship the Omnissiah, blow into the cartridge, spank the screen twice, and finally, finger-cross. Yet, despite the infallible troubleshooting, the results were the same.
The same altered Sacred Timeline that had led them to this era and the zone of variation remained unshaken.
"Miss Minutes," Judge Dox called out.
"I'm here," the holographic form of Miss Minutes appeared in a cheery tone. "What do you need assistance with?"
"Are the Timekeepers intervening? Are they stabilizing the Sacred Timeline?" Judge Dox asked. The answer to her question had the other judges at the edge of their seats.
"That is not the case, General Dox," Miss Minutes denied. "But the origin of your question is understandable. Such a large disturbance should have had worrying repercussions on the Timeline, yet it didn't.
"The answer to the unasked question is very simple. We all can see it. Someone is stabilizing the Timeline. This shouldn't come as a surprise to you three little girls, should it? If such an advanced nation had been growing right under your noses, then they most likely have a certain degree of control over causality, or, Timekeepers forbid, the Timeline," Miss Minutes said.
The judges exchanged looks. Miss Minutes was right—they could all see it. To be able to remain hidden up to this point, and the fact that any timedoors they tried to open to the past were rebounding, was evidence enough to realize the enemy had a certain degree of control over the ripples of their existence.
"If the enemy is not destabilizing the Sacred Timeline, then why are we even fighting?" Judge Renslayer asked. "They are not opening branching realities, are they? They are changing the Sacred Timeline, not disrupting it—regardless of whether we know how they are achieving that or not."
"Did you forget that their actions will bring the apocalypse? The end of it all?" Judge Gamble asked, raising a stern eyebrow in disapproval.
"No, I think I agree partially with Judge Renslayer," Judge Dox interjected. "It's easier to fix the points of inflection than to waste resources and lives in this war. If the Avengers are not going to be born, then we simply make sure they are."
"That is the conclusion of my thought process," Judge Renslayer nodded. "They are changing the Sacred Timeline, and based on what we've seen, they have a way of divining the results of their actions.
"They may plan to correct the repercussions of their mistakes, but even if they didn't, we can simply ensure the inflection points never come to actualization. It would be easier than fighting an opponent who changes fighting style, technological level, weaponry, defense systems, and tactics every couple of weeks," Judge Renslayer expressed her point of view.
"Silly Ravonna, the answer is simple," Miss Minutes' avatar shook left and right, mimicking disapproval. "You fight because that's the Timekeepers' will."
Miss Minutes brought the room to a halt.
"The Timekeepers are all-knowing, eternal, with infinite wisdom inhabiting their minds. If they see the need to fight this war, then the TVA will dutifully wage war in accordance with their omniscient will," Miss Minutes explained the absolute truth—her absolute truth, and that which moved the TVA.
"We understand," Judge Gamble said. "If it's their will, then we shall abide by it."
While somewhat dumbstruck, the other two judges nodded in agreement.
After gaining inspiration from the nuclear response of the Imperium, the TVA began repurposing their launch pads into warhead launching pads.
They began to launch from behind the North and South Scales—at least at the start. When they grew more comfortable inside what they considered enemy territory, they also assembled long-range weaponry in it.
Soon, the war picked up in level and chaos.
Five years went by with the Imperium slowly ceding territory. Ghosted cities fell into the TVA's hands, and the TVA built forward bases in these ghosted cities, allowing them to close in on Urbes Sorores, the capital of the Isthmus.
During these five years, the style and level of warfare became a monster rarely seen in a planetary dispute. It was akin to the type of warfare expected from a clash in space—the kind found in orbital citadels, motherships, asteroids, and even open space.
For a long time, the TVA followed the Imperium's lead, only using a higher level of technology after the Imperium had upped theirs. However, in an effort to catch their enemies by surprise, the TVA would sometimes escalate the level before them.
This led to a battlefield growing geometrically in complexity. Suffice it to say, the battlefield had been cleaned through multiple times by now, with explosions that pulverized the entire Isthmus—only the cities within their shields survived—and obviously the Obelisks.
It was a level of warfare that, in the eyes of modern humanity, would have been unthinkable.
The atmosphere burned upon contact, not only due to the biohazard from being bombarded with so many biological attacks, but also because it was on fire. Water boiled in most areas, and the ground bubbled crimson in others. Some places were locked in molecular stasis after the cryogenic equivalent of nuclear bombs had rained.
The entire Isthmus had turned so hostile that fighting in it was equated to fighting on Venus' surface.
Both fronts now wore environmentally-proofed protective armor, and the success of a clash was not measured by the death of the enemy but by the rupture of their armor.
In these conditions—the type that would kill a human in seconds—the TVA's Minutemen still held the conviction and faith in their Timekeepers to step in and fight bravely.
The Duskari, on the other hand, took a different approach...
"Kol One in position."
"Kol Two in position."
"Kol Brigade awaiting engagement signal."
Hidden behind small hills, two Duskari reported to their awaiting brigade. Both wore exosuits equipped with the best environmental protection available within the current level of technology the Imperium wielded. These were the types of exosuits the colonialist Duskari from eras ago had worn when colonizing and terraforming planets.
In the distance lay their monitoring objective—one of the cities that had fallen under TVA control. They had caught wind of the troops in this city planning to march to a nearby location that had been discovered last week after the TVA secured the currently occupied city.
The plan was for Brigade Kol to ambush the enemy convoy after it exited.
Although on paper it sounded mundane, it was anything but that.
Starting with the positions of Kol One and Two—they were well beyond the horizon from the occupied city in question. They could only monitor the TVA due to their spying tech, which allowed them to induce a curve in light, enabling them to see 'around the corner.'
Then there was the terrain. The occupied city had been caught in a bombardment two years ago.
The nature of the detonation involved molecular erosion and bond severance. It was the type of explosion that ruptured the bonds between molecules and even severed the bonds between elements that gave birth to compounds. In simpler words, it was a detonation that turned everything in its path into elemental atoms. It pulverized, liquefied, and evaporated solids.
This resulted in a city standing atop a large pillar of bedrock inside a crater—just like a fluted tube pan.
The enemy convoy was naturally not composed of wheeled vehicles. There were hovering vehicles, low-altitude aircraft, and down to the last Minuteman, they were all equipped with self-propelled, tridimensionally maneuverable gear—meaning they could fly.
Exiting a city these days meant being exposed to the risk of your enemies—or allies—bombing you to oblivion. The TVA knew this well. They had been subjected to enemy bombardment even while locked in combat.
In their eyes, the Duskari seemed not to care at all about self-preservation or friendly fire.
They respected this behavior to a point. The TVA's Minutemen had also, on several occasions, acted as bait and laid down their lives for friendly bombardments. These Minutemen marched to their deaths with the pride of dying for the will of the Timekeepers—hence why they had mistakenly believed that the Duskari also battled with a similar mindset. The reality couldn't be further from the truth.
"Enemy convoy exiting shielding in 3... 2... 1."
At some point, the Judges' Council had pondered the personnel available for warfare within the Imperium. During the early years, Duskari deaths were rarely reported during battles. But after both sides began cleansing entire battlefields—and even entire territories—with detonations, they began to wonder how large a population their enemy held.
They had run simple calculations and extrapolated that the population of the Imperium needed to fuel the war was far larger than what the small Panama Isthmus could harbor. So they assumed that their capital city must have miles upon miles of underground levels packed with population.
"Human personnel accounted for. Low likelihood of being subjected to a cleanse."
The death toll had been calculated to reach the staggering mark of one billion in just a few months. For an armed conflict between an intergalactic empire and a transtemporal organization, this figure was insignificant.
The TVA was built to monitor the near-infinite breadth of the Sacred Timeline. It was manned by variants stolen from their own timelines and was located in a Realm-Type dimension. The number of 'hired employees' was well beyond the billions.
{A/N: This is a logical conjecture based on the TVA's mission and duties in the series, and backed by the TVA from the comics. However, in the series, it looked as if Amazon possibly had more employees than the TVA did.}
The Fulgebint Draconis Imperium had enough population to hold a stable claim over the entire Milky Way, should they desire it.
Hence, one billion deaths was an insignificant figure.
"Contact in 5... 4... 3... 2... GO!"
With the engagement signal received, like trapdoor spiders, the Duskari emerged from the ground.
Flashes of lasers and explosions, the shimmer of broken energy and hard light shields, the spatial warping of black hole and spatial disruptive grenades, and the clanking and cracking resulting from the clash of mechanized armor populated the battlefield.
Duskari flew in randomized trajectories, with Minutemen struggling to follow them.
Aircraft against aircraft. Duskari against man. Assault vehicle against assault vehicle. Even switching enemies at times—it was a chaotic mess where somehow the Duskari were managing to cooperate and use teamwork to overcome the numerically superior enemy.
And when the last Minutemen were about to fall, the Duskari turned to look overhead.
"KaHahkafHAHA, gotcha bitches!" one of the last Minutemen said with a broken laugh.
"Oh, shit. We've been had."
"Ugh, we're about to be boiled. I recognize the glow on that warhead."
"Shit. You're right. I was in Jorgur 11 when they dropped the third of its kind."
"Fuck! Did it hurt as much as I'm imagining?"
"Yeah, the boiling takes a minute or two to kill you."
"Fuck! I think I'm gonna off myself before that lands."
"Yeah, I recommend that. It's one of my top three most painful deaths."
Under the astonished and horrified gaze of the last Minutemen alive, they all spoke of death as if it were a recurring occurrence.
"Man, what a shitshow. I wanted this body to last a few years at least."
"Yeah, tell me about it. I had a streak going of 152 days. Now it's over."
"164 for me."
"63 here."
"I barely had a month. What bad luck."
The Duskari continued talking as if they were sharing escapades. They all hovered while gazing at the falling warhead, and while they did so, they aimed their sidearms at their heads.
Then... the warhead lit up, and the Duskari pulled the triggers, and the entire Kol Brigade died.
The Minutemen were the only ones who died by boiling; they were too stunned to take their own lives.
Back on Urbes Sorores, in a facility holding thousands of dark cylindrical batteries—towers as tall as skyscrapers with hundreds of thousands of glowing orange 'lights'—a floating machine approached one of these lights.
As the machine neared the light, it became clear that these were not lights, but illuminated pods with Duskari suspended in fluid inside them.
The machine, with various multipurpose limbs that resembled tentacles, scanned the Duskari a couple of times before moving to the next pod.
Indeed, while the TVA's Minutemen marched to the battlefield with the resolve of brainwashed soldiers—resembling the ninja belonging to Danzo Shimura's Root—the Duskari were playing a very realistic and immersive multiplayer shooter game.
"This is honestly a bit sad," Mindee commented.
"Yeah, it's saddening," Aragorn agreed.
"With our hundreds of thousands of years knowing each other, I can confidently say that Grandfather and I are not talking about the same thing," Mindee nodded, certain of her claim.
"Eh? Why do I feel like you're needling me, Mindee? Is this your rebellious phase? Or maybe that time of the month?" Aragorn asked. He was still buried in her tails, even after seven years since the start of the war.
"Therions don't menstruate," Mindee deadpanned while looking at the progenitor of her species saying erroneous facts about her kind.
"No, well, that's true, but still," Aragorn shrugged.
"Leaving that aside," Mindee rolled her eyes at him. "What is it that is saddening you, Grandfather?"
"Eh? Isn't it obvious? Look at what they did to my greenery. All of the areas of conservation are gone—Heck! Most planets in the Solar System, aside from Earth and Mars, are more habitable than this shit. Granted, it's gonna take me like three seconds to return everything to how it was before, but still, this is just sad. I bet my Chocolate would share the sentiment," Aragorn explained.
"You see, Grandfather?" Mindee smiled faintly with a knowing grin. "I was talking about the Minutemen's death. You were worried about your garden."
"It's hard to sympathize with lumenciderers," Aragorn gave Mindee a strange look. "It's like those women who fall in love with handsome murderers or serial killers."
"I wouldn't go as far as to call it sympathy, maybe pity," Mindee replied. "You're too dogmatic about certain topics, and you tend to deal in absolutes in specific areas, Grandfather."
"That's true for the most part," Aragorn didn't deny it.
"I know, and you know it won't change how much I love you, Grandfather." Mindee lifted the tail Aragorn was attached to and kissed him softly on his snout. Aragorn playfully flicked his tongue at her lips in reply. "We just see different things, Grandfather.
"You see a Minuteman and you measure them by their soul. If you find the characteristic stains associated with lumencide, you immediately place them in the box you reserve for scum. Scum, in your eyes, are just a level below those you consider your enemies.
"I see a Minuteman, and I can only lament that the institution created by an ignorant mortal with a massive god-complex managed to distort the Minuteman into staining their soul.
"I see them go into battle holding their heads high, with their pride and faith in their mission worn like a badge of honor, and I can only think about how tragic it is that that beautiful pride and faith are built upon a complete lie.
"I see them give it their all in a war that's been years long and has more years to come, thinking that they are making a difference when, to this date, not a single Duskari has died in this war.
"My empathy picks up their hope and eagerness whenever the TVA hands them new weaponry; if only they knew the Duskari are using this war to milk everything out of them, and that no matter how advanced the weaponry they wield, the moment any of us step into the battlefield, they would be doomed.
"It's near impossible not to feel pity for them," Mindee murmured at the end of her words.
"My sweet fox, there's no need to pity the fools," Aragorn said. He levitated away from her tails and shifted to his male form. Lifting her softly, he sat her on his lap and brought her head to his chest.
"Humans are some of the most malleable creatures I've seen across the Omniverse. Not only are they biologically compatible with most other humanoid species, but even their mentality and morality can shift depending on the need." One of his hands softly caressed her back, and the other played with her ears in the way she liked.
"Sure, these guys were brainwashed, sure they were told a believable lie, sure they were controlled—but will that justify the entire pruned timelines? On average, a normal universe at any given time, aside from its conception and ending, has around ten to the power of thirty-six sapient beings. That's sextillions in the long scale.
"Let's not credit the deaths of every sapient being throughout time per timeline because that's a figure for which the current language has no word. So let's say that the death of all sapients at the time of pruning is their responsibility—even though, in reality, when a timeline is pruned, every past, present, and future life is extinguished.
"That means that, keeping conservative numbers, any TVA agent that had ever pruned a timeline carries a death trail worth at least one sixtillion sapient lives. One sextillion sapient lives for every single time one of their timesticks successfully connected with a target.
"My sweet fox, life can be made worthless in the Multiverse. If no one is to take responsibility for these countless pruned timelines, or if all the responsibility were credited to a single minuscule mortal, then the worth of those extinguished lives would be reduced to maybe that of a single electron—maybe less than that.
"Pitying these fools because they were duped is equivalent to disregarding the value of life to a multiversal level, my sweet fox. I'm not trying to stop you from showing empathy, Mindee. I'm saying don't let your empathy consume you. Save it for the pure souls, and your aunts, uncles, nieces, and nephews," Aragorn said. He lowered his face to her head and breathed her fragrance deeply; her ears twitched in response.
"I... I guess I know. I try not to pay much attention. It's just that with the war escalating, the death toll along with it, and sometimes picking up some of their scattered thoughts, I get overwhelmed," Mindee replied.
"I see..." Aragorn paused for a moment. "Then, how about I show you something to take your mind off of it?"
"Something?" Mindee asked, curious.
"The Self accompanying Phoenix's shard across the Omniverse sent me back some interesting samples," Aragorn waved his tail, and a few smaller objects appeared. "I've been working on these samples for a while, and these are the results of my efforts."
The objects in question came in two different categories. First was a tray of vials carrying an amber liquid. Then there were several large eggs, about the size that the megafauna of the Isthmus laid.
"What are these, Grandfather?" Mindee asked, her attention mostly on the large eggs.
"Let's start with the vials," Aragorn made a gesture, and his P-Link glowed for a moment before Mindee glowed in kind. Mindee tapped her P-Link, and the information on the vials appeared in a holographic projection.
"Fae Genome Modifier?" Mindee asked.
"Yep. We came across a Multiverse based on sex—"
"Sex?!" Mindee interrupted.
"Yes, are you interested?" Aragorn wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I can share the memory, you know?"
"Ugh, please don't," Mindee rapidly shook her head, her fox ears swaying with the motion. "Can't you upload it to The System? I would rather view the memories in the privacy of my chambers and not while in my Grandfather's lap."
"Heh, so you do want to see the memories, huh?" Aragorn teased. "Maybe there's more in you from your mother than appearance."
"Please continue with the explanation, Grandfather," Mindee elbowed him in the abdomen.
"Hehehehe," he chuckled in response to her embarrassment. "The elves I found in that world were unnaturally naturally beautiful."
"Unnaturally naturally?" Mindee repeated as if it were a tongue twister.
"Their beauty was unnatural, yet this level was achieved naturally. Even though their level of existence was not so different from our elves, they had Therion levels of beauty," Aragorn explained.
"Ah, I understand now. Grandfather wants to enhance Halo's elves with this beauty," Mindee nodded in understanding.
"Yes, it took me a while, but those vials should do the trick." Aragorn pulled one vial and cracked it; immediately, a mist filled the room. "Airborne spread, easily contagious, and with a wide reach."
"I don't think there was a need to make this into a biological weapon, was there?" Mindee waved one of her tails, and the cloud was compressed into a liquid, then stored away. "I doubt the Fae would oppose your will, or the allure of beauty."
"I figured as much, but I wanted to try a different approach to genome enhancing," Aragorn shrugged.
"And the eggs?" Mindee asked, moving on.
"Dragons, but of the wyvern variety. Large, fire-breathing, highly intelligent but incapable of speech or deep thinking. Non-magical, almost entirely biological in nature. Come in different colors, and they form prides around a single male," Aragorn said. Once more, he shared the information with Mindee's P-Link and then brought the eggs closer to his fox.
"Are these for Sarah?" Mindee asked, her eyes lit up with the information displayed on the projection.
"Yes, I felt a bit bad for the Goddess of Dragons to have no dragons to lord over," Aragorn nodded.
"She bred a couple of ester dragons a few years back, but they were a natal dispersal species, so they went away when they were nearing adulthood," Mindee commented.
"Poor girl. The only dragon she could lord over was Plutus, but he was already her son, so it didn't make a difference," Aragorn chuckled.
"Yeah, she'll love these," Mindee nodded. "When are they hatching?"
"..."
Mindee received no reply to her question, so she looked up at Aragorn. He was focused on a particular point in the room—she understood that with his eyes, he was probably gazing at something beyond the horizon.
"What happened?" Mindee asked.
"The Judges' Council is discussing the possibility of using variants as troops," Aragorn replied.
"Ah, so the war is about to escalate once more," Mindee voiced out.
"Precisely," Aragorn nodded.
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{A/N:
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}