Aetheral Space-Chapter 523 0.14: Alpha and Omega

Edgar was silent as he strode through the first new morning on Azum.
Just because the battle had ended didn't mean their forces could stand down. They were setting up detainment facilities for the Gene Tyrant loyalists, where they could be held until trial. They were repairing the damage that had consumed whole chunks of the planet. They were exterminating the beasts that had been abandoned when the few surviving Gene Tyrants had fled. There was still so much to be done.
And yet, as Edgar walked through the camp, the world felt strange. It felt… wrong, like it shouldn't still be here. They had defeated the Gene Tyrants and overthrown the crown jewel of their empire. That would have been a natural stopping point for existence.
It felt like they should have run out of world by now… and yet they were still here. So, what now?
Well, judging from the whispers Edgar was hearing around camp, the people had some ideas. He frowned at their words. Supreme. Supremacy. These words seemed to have become part of the common lexicon almost overnight.
They've gotta establish supremacy over each other, you see. They've gotta establish a hierarchy.
He scowled at their words, and flipped the hood of his pale cloak up to cover his face. He didn't have much desire to get dragged into a conversation or a celebration right now.
As Edgar crested the hill at the back of the camp, he spared a glance for the city below. Needless to say, it was in ruins. The shattered egg of the Nerve Senate was visible in the distance. It was funny -- right now, information flow in the Zeilan Morhan was in just as much chaos as that ruined city. The common thinking seemed to be that Lord Director Eve had been housed in the Senate, and thus that the destruction of the building had spelled their ultimate victory.
They didn't know anything.
Azez was already waiting for Edgar at the top of the hill, looking out over the landscape. He'd had his injuries treated by their best Aetheral healers -- so many of them had rushed to heal him that he probably looked better than when they'd first arrived on the planet. Ruri was sitting on a rock nearby -- ever since the battle had ended, she'd been hanging around Azez in that vaguely pathetic way of hers.
The third person there Edgar didn't recognise at first. A woman, a fellow Cogitant, with her shaggy blue hair hanging low over her face. One of the aides that had joined up with them after they'd taken Derenderun. Luckily for her, she'd done so after they completed the Sapphire Star.
Azez didn't speak for a good minute at first, but when he did his voice was low. "How many dead?" he asked quietly, golden eyes wavering as they took in the destruction below.
The Cogitant woman answered him with the clipped clinical tone of a strategy . "With this, the Nobility's been eradicated from the galactic core," she said. "The Blindman's Hunt will exterminate the stragglers along the galactic edge. It's all but over."
Yes… the 'Blindman's Hunt'. Zarakhel hadn't waited to celebrate their victory over the Gene Tyrants. He'd already gathered those with the same level of zeal as himself to pursue the stragglers across the galaxy. There really was nothing to that idiot but bloodlust.
Azez nodded vaguely, staring into the flames below. "Yes… but how many of ours?"
The woman swallowed, opened her mouth, then closed it again -- she knew the answer, clearly, but she also knew that speaking it aloud would provide no comfort. Instead, she stepped back and fell silent, looking down at the ground.
Sighing at the somber silence, Azez turned to look at Edgar instead. His grey hair had become a radiant white following the battle against Otrera, but the sad smile on his face seemed to dim it right back down.
"How about it, Edgar?" he asked. "Is this your 'peace and joy for all mankind'?"
Are you stupid?
Edgar clenched his fists.
Azez waited a moment for Edgar's reply -- but when none came, he continued. "For one person to be happy, another must become unhappy. Even more than that -- some people will lose their joy as a direct result of another gaining it. That's the sort of animals we humans are. It's not in our nature to be satisfied. Fool's game. You don't agree?"
It's the nature of existence and intelligence. We humans love factions, man. We love to be in a club, and you can only be in a club if there are people who aren't in the club, you get me?
Edgar bit his lip tight -- and when he did speak, it wasn't to answer Azez's insipid question. "I hear you're calling yourself the Supreme now," he snapped, hands clasped behind his back.
Azez blinked -- perhaps surprised at Edgar's sharp tone -- before looking over to the other Cogitant. "I am?"
The woman shrugged. "It's developed organically among the troops… I'd say it's probably best just to go with it, my Supreme -- um, Azez, sir."
"Well," Azez said, scratching his head. "It's better than 'Lord Director', I guess. Sure, let's go with that." He looked back to Edgar. "Is it a problem?"
Edgar narrowed his eyes. The whispers around camp weren't just whispers, it seemed. "You may not have known the moniker, but I'm certain you're the one who decided how it should be passed on," he said coldly. "The one who defeats the current Supreme inherits the position, no? I simply can't comprehend why you'd do something so foolish."
"Oh, right, right," Azez nodded.
He turned fully away from the ruins of the city, stepping into a nearby shelter that had hastily been converted into a command centre. "Well…" he said, rubbing his chin. "I did put some thought into that, if you must know. Right now, people are thinking I'm the strongest, yeah?"
"...correct," Edgar muttered. Azez had destroyed the strongest Gene Tyrant and taken half of the sky out along with it. That went without saying.
"If someone's strong enough to beat me," Azez smiled thoughtlessly. "Then they'll be strong enough to protect everyone else. Right?"
He turned to look over at Ruri. The girl straightened up instantly, clearly taken aback at suddenly becoming part of the conversation instead of a mere spectator.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"Uh, well, I," Ruri's eyes flicked between Azez and Edgar as she considered her answer. "I don't know. You're the strongest. You are -- you are the strongest, yeah, so I think it's fine. We need to stay strong, or else they'll just come back, so… yeah. Yeah, I think you're right."
Edgar grit his teeth. As per usual, it seemed like he was the only one around here actually using their brain. Still, it wasn't like Azez would listen, so he kept his mouth shut.
The Cogitant aide swallowed before speaking again. "There is, ah, one more thing, my Supreme. A request from Roland Nebula."
My Supreme. So they were really using that now.
Azez grinned brightly. "Roland! I haven't seen him yet today. What's he want?"
"Well…" the woman shuffled uncomfortably. "He's… he's asking for permission to depart, my Supreme."
Azez blinked. "Oh. He's going with Zarakhel to hunt the stragglers? That's a surprise, I didn't think they were that close. Well, he doesn't need my permission to --"
"That's not it, sir," the woman interrupted, cringing at her own audacity. "He's… he and various other factions -- the Inganci, the Enchainers -- they… since the war is over, they say it's over, they want to go back to their homes and start building up their infrastructure."
The bright grin slowly faded from Azez's face, replaced by a look of utter confusion. "But… we're taking over Azum," he said quietly. "That's the plan. That's always been the plan."
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Edgar listened quietly, looking between Azez and the bearer of bad news. It was true that the Zeilan Morhan had intended to usurp control of Azum and govern from there, but had that ever been said in so many words? Had a vote been taken? It was more like Azez's momentum had pushed them in that direction… but now, it seemed, momentum wouldn't be enough.
"I'm just delivering the message, my Supreme," the woman looked down at the ground. "Sir Nebula believes that, with the war won, it's time for all to go their separate ways."
"Separate ways? No!" Azez said emphatically. "We fought together, we bled together -- we're all going to stay together, that was the entire point! Humanity, all of humanity -- the real humanity -- united as one!"
"I'm just saying what he said," the aide awkwardly reiterated.
"Where's… where is he?" Azez waved a hand. "I'll talk to him myself. He doesn't know what he's talking about. I'll talk to him."
The Cogitant woman looked like she wished the ground would swallow her up. "He's… already on his ship, my Supreme. In orbit. Along with the others. They're waiting for your permission to go… I don't know that they need it, though -- I think that if they don't get it, they'll just go anyway."
Azez marched off down the hill, Ruri and the Cogitant aide quickly following after him. As his voice faded into the bustle of the camp, Edgar heard Azez cry out: "Get me a shuttle!"
Slowly, Edgar sighed and gripped his forearm, squeezing until it was painful. He looked up at the smog-filled sky. Through the layers of smoke that the grand battle had created, the fleet of ships that was causing such turmoil couldn't even be seen.
Eve had indeed been generous with Its estimate, Edgar reflected. In the end, it hadn't even taken a week for things to start falling apart.
What a mess. What a joke.
The war was over. The Gene Tyrants had been defeated. Humanity was free from their control. The slavery and misery that had permeated the galaxy for thousands of years was finally clearing. A new age of freedom shone over the horizon.
This was probably the worst day of Edgar's life.
In the end, Azez hadn't been able to convince Roland as he'd hoped. The Nebula fleet -- and all the others -- had departed from Azum as they'd planned, and the remaining members of the Zeilan Morhan had been able to do little more than watch them go. A little more than half of their original number remained to proceed with the plan to take over Azum.
From what Edgar had heard, the conversation between Azez and Roland hadn't gone well at all -- afterwards, their departure had been much less cordial than originally planned. He couldn't be sure, though. Because he hadn't been there.
Edgar sat on his bed in his quarters on the Ha, staring at the metal wall opposite, and considered what would happen next. Peace and joy for all mankind. If he wanted that, truly wanted that, then he couldn't just sit idly by and watch as humanity splintered into factions like this.
And then before long everyone's in some club or another -- and then those groups collide.
He needed to do something, but what? Azez and Roland, they were the key, if they could both be brought around, this schism could be healed before it fully came into existence. How, though? Edgar didn't even really know what the schism was about. He hadn't been in the room when it had been brought into the light. He didn't have the information he needed. He felt blind. If he knew the factors at play, he could come up with a plan, but he didn't know those factors. All he had was guesswork and hope.
No, there was still room for a plan. Edgar had contacts in Nebula's faction. He didn't know any of them well, because he didn't really know anyone well, but he was sure he could still get some intelligence out of them. Roland would surely have shared his thoughts with his subordinates. They, in turn, could share their thoughts with Edgar. That could work. Yes, that could work. It wasn't as if Roland's reasoning would be a secret, not really. He was a fair man, after all. If he was approached honestly, Edgar couldn't see him having a problem explaining himself. As the one who had discovered Aether, who had won the war, Edgar had a certain amount of social capital he could play with. One of Roland's subordinates could arrange a meeting.
Then there was Azez. If it came down to it, and Roland truly wasn't willing to abandon his plan for everyone to go their separate ways, Edgar needed a way to assuage Azez's concerns. Still, though, he didn't have the information he needed. The forces they had right now were sufficient to settle Azum. It would be a difficult process, but it was always going to be a difficult process. Why was Azez so adamant that everyone stay together at this point? Was there a specific reason? Had he shared that reason with Roland, and was that why their conversation had gone badly, or did Roland not understand where Azez was coming from? Was this a difference in philosophy or a matter of miscommunication? If he knew that, at least, Edgar would know where best to begin his efforts from. Would Azez just tell him if he just asked? He needed t
"Goddamnit!"
Edgar screamed out his fury as he threw himself off of his bed, pale blue Aether already sparkling around his hand. Gritting his teeth in a grimace that was almost painful, Edgar lunged at nothing and slammed his fists against the metal wall -- again and again and again.
"Goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamniiit!"
The first punch left a sizable dent, and with each hit that dent grew deeper -- and bloodier, as Edgar beat his own knuckles raw. His yelling grew less and less coherent as his fist flew, and before long he was just snarling incomprehensibly as he crashed his fists into the wall. His Aether enhancement was uneven, his hands were in agony, but a frenzy had seized hold of him, and he couldn't stop now.
When he'd finally tired himself out, he bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. His fists were bloody, dripping red onto the floor, and he was fairly sure he'd inadvertently broken a finger or two. When he wiped the sweat from his brow, he left a slick red trail in its place.
Slowly, he reached out with a hand to inspect the damage he'd done to the wall -- but then the rage took him again, and he slammed his palm right into the dent again. Once more, twice more, hissing through his teeth with each strike.
"Fuck!" he growled. "Fuck! FUCK!"
His rapid slamming of his palm trailed off, and he rested his head against the wall as he let out heaving breaths.
He'd become angry. That was plain to see. He didn't understand the exact reason for it, but the evidence spoke for itself. His rapid heartbeat. His violent impulses. The burning heat that seemed to trickle across his skin.
This was human. This was what a human did when faced with a situation out of its control. Eve had been right. This kind of creature could not save the world.
Edgar lifted his shaking, bleeding hands up -- and, through the haze of consciousness, he allowed a persistent spark of Aether to swim between his palms. Lack of information was the key. The fog of war was the biggest enemy to peace and joy. If anything was to ever change, it would have to be done away with.
A thing that could come to know everything.
A thing that could come to learn everything.
That was what he needed.
Steadying his breathing, Edgar began to think, to plan, to develop. He needed a framework. He needed what Eve had proposed… an intelligence that could not just see the big picture, but all the tiny pictures it was composed of.
There was no time for rage. This was the time for labour.
The first new night of Azum drifted over the Ha… and Edgar worked in the dark.
His fury had deserted him. No weariness or regret existed inside his mind. Right now, he was as he should always have been: a mechanism with which to produce a result. He was silent as he sat on his bed, the bloody wall opposite forgotten, constructing the future string by Aetheral string.
As Edgar weaved together fate, Ruri lay on her own bed, staring up at the ceiling -- the final curse of the Maven in Red echoing inside her brain as it would for a thousand years more.
We will come back. The second you look away, we will come back.
As Ruri was haunted by a demon's ghost, Roland stood -- arms crossed -- on the bridge of his own ship. Before him, a star-coated expanse was spread out, the freedom they had fought and bled and died for, and yet… when he recalled the last argument with Azez, his posture stiffened.
They were on their way back to their serendipity, and all their other comrades on their way to their homes… but why, then, did that thumping sense of danger still linger at the back of his head?
This isn't over. You're ruining everything.
As Roland reflected on Azez's final threat, the Supreme himself flew over the cities of Azum as a golden star. His own gaze was dark, but as he looked down at the distant following figure of Bieshu del Sed -- his original companion -- it softened. Even if half the world were to leave him, there were those who would never go away.
He raised a hand in greeting, and she raised one back. Tazir's words were as clear in both of their heads as the day they'd first heard them.
Make it mean something.
And, in the dark, Edgar quietly worked. He would build something that was not a human, for a human would give up. He would create something that was not like him, for he was human too, and therefore insufficient.
He would bring into this world a superior mechanism to himself.
A monarch of information.
A ruler over correlation.
A thing to see the current of the universe and turn it in the right direction.
A Prince with which to save the world.
Blue Aether sparked, charged with intent…
…and the world changed.