Cor stood still, observing the cracked and ruined Citadel before him. The ancient weathered stone which had survived to this day was having its crevices filled. Paths were taken apart and put back together in an odd pattern. The architecture of the ancient Dream Realm residents were being warped before his eyes.
It was quite the same as the type of thing one would see in the New Workshop.
But without the forcibly flourishing fauna that did its best to hold back the constant toxicity of the Outskirts, the gothic buildings became much more imposing.
It was like standing in another world.
Cor only then considered that it was also a world that he held stake in. Because, technically, it was the first Citadel of the Government. Their first outpost in the Dream Realm in fact.
The role they had taken on as a neutral party effectively meant that taking any Citadel might indicate a break in their policy depending on where it was…but this was a unique case. And with the negotiations done, there was no need to worry about any of that.
Cor turned his gaze back to the two people in front of him. It was an awkward scene, especially for him.
A twelve year old boy and his adopted father stood facing each other. They said nothing, and yet the child's two week journey seemed to be perfectly conveyed to Gehrman. Or at least, that's how it seemed. Whatever the case the boy seemed happy.
A Sacred Aspect… the thought rang in Cor's head like a cycling alarm.
The closest the Government had come to such an asset was with Soul Reaper Jet, who wielded a legendary Supreme Aspect.
When she had first joined up, Cor could count on one hand the number of people with such an Aspect Rank.
But now there was not only Sacred, but also Divine abilities out there…and one of each category now served the Government.
Though it was true that Gehrman and his Divine Aspect would be leaving them in a few years, this child, Milo, was locked in as a Government asset.
Along with the twenty other promising young Awakened.
Each of the Sleepers at the New Workshop had survived, and Cor had been receiving calls to come pick them up and bring them to Gehrman's Citadel over the past two weeks.
With Milo here, all of them had returned without a single fatality.
Some of his people called it a fluke, but Cor wasn't buying it.
It went beyond Gehrman's unique training. A handful of Government operatives were dispatched and were training in the ways of the Yharnam Hunters. What they recounted was a level of brutal training that was rare even in Legacy Clans.
It was astonishing to see these kids handle that, unnerving even.
But Cor found it nostalgic, in a way.
It reminded him of a young Jet.
Somehow, this train of thought led him to another thing that had been circling around the offices of the Government. Though kept under wraps, Cor was at the center of it.
A new apocalyptic event was about to arrive, something wholly unrelated to that damnable war between Valor and Song.
And now that Gehrman didn't have to worry about his new Awakened, he would finally be able to bring him up to speed on the upcoming calamity.
…
Gehrman sat in a large leather chair, overlooking his Citadel.
It had been renamed New Yharnam, and seeing the Dream Realm's moonlight glow cast upon it really helped the whole atmosphere.
The only thing that made it seem unlike his old home were the sprawling, massive nightmare swamp surrounding the city…and the fact that only the inner circle of the city had been rebuilt in this style.
With the twenty young ones from the New Workshop returned, there were now approximately 70 Awakened at his disposal. Theoretically, it was a solid force, but in terms of Citadel operations it was sorely lacking.
Fortunately, there were now about 640 people living in the Citadel, hence the number of remodeled and repaired buildings being well into the double digits.
Most of them came from the Government, but there were also a handful from the Legacy Clans and their vassals as well.
Each had their own embassy and separate housing, but the absolute non-violence policy in the city kept them in check.
It helped that on occasion Gehrman would show off a bit to instill a sense of primal terror into the residence.
Just the other day a sniveling Fallen Terror had started to worm its way into the city. This was actually good news due to the worm being of incredible size.
This meant that sticking the 800 meter tall behemoth on a giant pike and leaving its entrails artfully strewn about (while also taking chunks out of it to consume and imbibe on the daily) instilled a healthy amount of fear into everyone there.
"Are you satisfied with all this?" a bass low voice inquired.
Gehrman turned his head to look Cor in the eye.
"Absolutly not, the ambiance is still way off," he replied dryly.
"I meant the power you now wield," the old veteran clarified. "You've become something no less than a Saint, perhaps you even surpass a few of them. You've established a presence in both the real world and the Dream Realm…with that being said, are you satisfied?"
Geherman did not need to take a moment to consider.
"No, of course not," he fully turned to face Cor. "Haven't I told you what my end goal is? All of this…its a matter of personal preference. A hobby. Something to do while I gather strength before going for the next step."
"So you truly aim to become a god then? Even with everything you know? Do you think the Sovereigns will stand idly by?"
"Probably not–"
"Do you think they will let this 'hobby' go smoothly?"
That last question caused Gehrman to pause.
It had crossed his mind briefly. If the Supreme rulers of humanity were greedy enough, if they were paranoid enough, would they take out their fear of usurpation on Gehrman's people?
From what he could tell, he was fairly certain Ki Song would do such a thing. And though he was painted as an unfeeling monster, Gehrman had trouble believing that Anvil would also casually permit a genocide like that simply to keep Gehrman from advancing.
…Still, he would not be taking any chances.
"The politics of this whole thing are maddening, but they can also be used to my advantage. I just have to make sure it's not worth the trouble. I just have to make it clear…that if they were to touch my people then I wouldn't rest until all of theirs are dead too."
Cor's face darkened.
"You would slaughter tens of thousands of innocents?"
"Of course not, I just need to make sure they think I would. And that's what I've been doing this whole time. The Red Judge is a cruel and inhuman monster who just happens to fancy himself a fan of hunting and weaponry. Of course I myself won't be able to bring them down, and I will have my hands tied with being allied to Song. But like the House of Night, the New Workshop will be a third party they can't risk having on the other side. It just needs to be made clear that they are powerful and distinct from myself."
Cor's brows furrowed as he considered his words.
"They will need to be a lot stronger then…fortuantly, a certain opportunity has arisen that could help you a lot in that regard."
"Right, I can tell you've had something on your mind this whole time. What was it that you really wanted to tell me?"
"Classified information of the highest caliber," Cor said.
"You know of the Obel Scale, correct? It is the device that predicts where and when Gates will form, and it is the reason we can get you to so many Gate Crises before they truly get underway."
Gehrman nodded. He wasn't familiar with the science behind it all, but he was made well aware of the concept.
"What you may not know, is that at a singular point in the past the scale was thrown into utter chaos, completely destabilising for a time," a shadow passed over Cor's face as traumatic memories seemed to flare in his eyes.
"That was when the Category 5 Gate opened in North America, completely obliterating the continent and making it, and the vast majority of South America uninhabitable."
"A creature of the Cursed Rank…" Gehrman muttered. It was a bit confusing, but since each Gate Category corresponds with its seed, a Category 2 Gate had a Fallen creature as its Guardian instead of an Awakened as one might expect.
"Such a thing won't be happening again from the looks of it…but there will be something on a similar scale. Instead of a singular Gate though, it will be a Chain of Nightmares that will continuously form, pouring hundreds of thousands of Nightmare Creatures into the waking world."
"All over the world? All at once?" Gehrman asked incredulously.
"Thankfully not," Cor sighed. "It's all concentrated in one place, and it will be ramping up over time."
The old man paused and said the next words gravely.
"The continent of Antarctica is set to be destroyed, Tyrants, Terrors, and Titans will lay waste to the land, and millions, if not tens of millions will die."
…
Around the same time, as if responding to the upcoming horror, the light of humanity returned.
Outside the Awakened Academy, thousands of lights had been lit. No matter the weather or the length, their flames at the mural had never once fully gone out.
They were tribute to the hero of the Forgotten Shore, Nephis of The Immortal Flame.
Though the girl wasn't there to witness it, the Government's propaganda machine had made her an idealized martyr. And while the efforts of her companions (besides the shadowy scout) were recognized, the fervor people had for that lost Sleeper was incomparable.
Sunny had glanced at those flames outside the Academy with a mix of detachment and wariness.
He was joined by Cassie.
And then they were met with the person whom they had come to meet, Morgan of Valor.
The three talked briefly. The tensions between them for the escape of the monster Mordret were evident and not forgotten. But as incredibly promising Masters it wouldn't do to show outright malice.
They were of a caliber on the level of the highest Legacy Clan Heirs…and one more was about to join them.
From below the Academy, the sleeping form of silver haired girl (now women) burst with true Immortal Flame. The destructive power was unwieldy and unmatched.
Jumping from Sleeper to Master all at once, Changing Star returned to the waking world, throwing it entirely into disarray.
In the flames, the Lightbringer's Shadow returned to her, bringing her back home.
But it would not remain that way.
For Nephis of The Immortal Flame had spent over a year wandering alone, fighting alone, in a hopeless Nightmare. And though she was not broken, she had been bent and humbled.
Enough so that she recognized that her desires would never come to pass if she did not make sacrifices.
So at a formal dance put on by Valor, she would snap a chain around her own throat to further her goals.
That night, Changing Star became the adopted daughter of Anvil of Valor, the man who she aspired to kill.
All went according to her plan.
With the exception of her Shadow.
For he would not follow her like this.
He alone refused any and all chains.
Which was how he would meet with Gehrman on a ship headed South, towards Antarctica.