Chapter 31 : Present

Lincoln stood in front of the imposing statue of Obsune, his eyes tracing the intricate details of the titan king's majestic form. The statue seemed to radiate a palpable sense of power and mystery.

Obsune's history had become an obsession, a puzzle that begged to be solved.

Over the past hours, Lincoln had combed through countless books and ancient texts within the library, searching for any information about ModCytron and its mission to Earth. He knew it was a classified mission, and his expectations of finding concrete details were low. Still, he couldn't help but hope for even a glimpse of insight into the origins of the enigmatic lifeform.

Yet, his efforts had yielded just a handful of cryptic references and vague allusions. ModCytron remained shrouded in secrecy, its true nature and purpose concealed within the deepest layers of Alvanian history.

Lincoln sighed, realizing that some secrets might never be fully unraveled.

Amid his fruitless search for ModCytron's origins, Lincoln had stumbled upon a fascinating revelation about Moderators. The very title suggested a role of governance, and his curiosity led him to delve deeper into their existence.

As he pored over the ancient texts, he discovered that Moderators were not just mere observers of the universe but wielders of influence through an indefinable chain of command. They possessed a subtle control over the course of events in the universe, their actions quietly shaping the destinies of worlds and species.

One particular revelation piqued Lincoln's interest—their involvement in the selection of energy manipulators. The knowledge resonated with him, as he had always wondered why he, of all people, had been chosen as the one of this era.

It was an extraordinary gift, one that had altered the course of his life in ways he could scarcely comprehend.

Yet, as he delved deeper into the lore of Moderators, he realized that his selection might not have been solely the work of ModCytron. Instead, it appeared to be part of a grander cosmic design, orchestrated by these enigmatic beings who held the threads of the universe in their hands.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder: What destiny was he meant to fulfill? Was he failing to do so?

Lincoln pondered the implications of this newfound knowledge. It raised more questions than answers. How did Moderators choose energy manipulators? What was their ultimate purpose, and how did it connect to the fate of Earth and Alvanian?

The wind rustled through his hair, a gentle reminder of the world beyond the confines of Alvanian. Lincoln's thoughts drifted to his family, and his heart ached with the longing to be with them. His wife and his son were always in his thoughts.

He couldn't help but wonder how Naomi was coping, knowing that for him, time flowed differently here. What felt like weeks to him amounted to mere moments for her. The thought of their separation weighed heavy on his heart.

"Dev..." Lincoln whispered to himself, a mix of love and sadness in his voice. "Maybe once all this is over..."

He recalled a conversation he had with Dexter, a conversation that had offered a glimmer of hope in the face of uncertainty.

"But Dex, will this ever be over?" Lincoln had asked, his voice tinged with doubt.

Dexter's response had been unwavering, his smile a beacon of optimism. "It sure will, man. It'll take time, but it'll be worth the wait."

Lincoln sighed, his hope tempered by the harsh reality they faced. "Hope is all we have, huh?" he mused, his tone somber.

Dexter's conviction hadn't wavered. "Yes. But I'm promising you this, over my grave. When our children grow up, they will partake in a world of peace and tranquillity."

A faint smile tugged at Lincoln's lips as he remembered that exchange. "Alright," he had said with a chuckle. "I'm with you."

Now, as he stood in the enigmatic realm of Alvanian, he couldn't help but question the possibility of that dream becoming a reality.

"A peaceful world for our children... Is that even possible anymore?" he pondered, the weight of uncertainty pressing upon him.

"It's rare to find people praying here at this time," a voice spoke from next to him, breaking Lincoln's contemplation. He turned his head to find a man, slightly taller than him, with dark green hair and skin that resembled a human's, like Aytrex's. The man's diamond-shaped pupils marked him unmistakably as an Alvan.

Lincoln made eye contact with the stranger. "I'm not praying," he replied, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, he's indeed quite a sight then," the man said with an encouraging smile, his gaze now fixed on Obsune's statue. His attire differed from the fashion Lincoln had seen in Kon Guardio, the same kind of fashion Lincoln also wore, which he had acquired through some shopping the previous day.

"You're not from here, are you?" Lincoln inquired.

"Well, neither are you," the man replied casually, causing Lincoln to raise his guard.

"Relax, I'm just an observer," the man assured him, his tone calm and disarming. "Besides, you seem alone."

"I don't need protection," Lincoln retorted, his guard still up.

"No, but you do need help," the man corrected gently.

Lincoln eyed the stranger warily. "How much do you know?" he inquired, wanting to gauge the extent of this man's knowledge about him.

"About?" the man prompted.

"Me," Lincoln clarified.

"Oh, well, I have a keen eye," the man replied cryptically, but Lincoln remained skeptical.

The man sighed, seemingly sensing Lincoln's doubt. "Well, since I know about you, I'll give you something myself. It's my ability. Under certain conditions, I can collect information," he explained.

"A telepath?" Lincoln asked, trying to grasp the nature of this ability.

The man chuckled. "Not even close. But it helps me figure out what ability a person has," he revealed.

"You knew me because you discovered my ability," Lincoln concluded.

"Bingo," the man said with a nod.

"But you have good intuition too, don't you?" Lincoln probed.

The man shrugged. "Probably came with the ability, or perhaps the ability came with it," he replied humbly.

"You're trying to communicate with him, aren't you?" The man asked, his gaze penetrating.

"What made you think that?" Lincoln asked, slightly taken aback.

"Intuition," the man replied cryptically, turning to descend the stairs.

Lincoln wasn't about to let this mysterious figure slip away without more answers. "And if I am?" he called out.

The man paused and glanced back at Lincoln with a faint smile. "I'd say give up. It's never worked."

"You just came here to tell me to give up?" Lincoln's curiosity grew.

The man chuckled, a light and almost enigmatic sound. "No, I came here to pray," he replied.

"But you said no one prays at this time," Lincoln pointed out.

The man shrugged. "I only know that because I've come here at this time, no?" He continued to descend the stairs.

"Wait," Lincoln called out, halting the man in his tracks. "What did you get from the statue?" Lincoln's tone held a note of insistence.

The man turned back to face him, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"What information did you get?" Lincoln pressed, determined to uncover the man's knowledge.

The man's response was evasive. "My ability is not as simple as that."

Lincoln wasn't convinced and pushed further. "But you did get something, didn't you? Or else, you'd never come here at this time."

The man's lips curled into a faint smile. "I just enjoy the solitude," he replied, not giving away anymore.

Lincoln sighed, realizing he might need to try a different approach. "How about some coffee?" he suggested.

"In the afternoon?" the man raised an eyebrow.

"Why not?" Lincoln countered.

"I'd go for something more cold at this time of the day," the man replied, considering Lincoln's offer.

"You can choose then," Lincoln agreed.

The man stood there, contemplating for a moment. "Are you paying?" he eventually inquired.

Lincoln nodded, a faint smile on his face. "Then, why not?" the man replied with a grin. "You lead the way," Lincoln suggested.

As they exited the temple, the two men found themselves on a winding path that meandered through a serene grove of towering crystalline trees. The man finally broke the silence. "So, why are you alone?" he asked, his tone gentle, and Lincoln felt compelled to share.

"To avoid some risks," Lincoln replied, his words cryptic yet revealing a hint of his past experiences.

The man's next question caught Lincoln off guard. "So what went down in Seno, was that you?" His intuition was striking.

"I was there, yes," Lincoln admitted, a sense of unease lingering in his voice.

The man didn't hesitate. "So, you've come here to hide."

Lincoln's frustration began to simmer. "I feel like you're just getting answers from me. Why don't you tell me something?" he interjected, hoping to uncover more about this enigmatic observer.

"Well, what do you want to know?" the man inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"What do you know about ModCytron?" Lincoln questioned, his curiosity burning bright.

The man's chuckle was knowing. "Enough. He's the last moderator in this plane of existence. Every other Moderator has already left the physical plane."

Lincoln sighed in relief at this tidbit of information. "The books had nothing about that," he confessed, grateful for the man's insight.

His presence and knowledge intrigued Lincoln.

"Who are you? No, actually, what are you?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Like I said, I'm just an observer," the man replied cryptically. "I'm neither Guardian nor Tyrant or any other group these Alvans put themselves in."

Lincoln probed further. "Are you by yourself, then?"

The man considered his response carefully. "I wouldn't say that. But I'm not bound to anything, is all I'm saying," he explained as they continued their walk through the tranquil grove, the crystalline trees casting a mesmerizing play of colors on the ground beneath them.

"You know about the mission then?" Lincoln asked, his curiosity burning brightly as they continued their leisurely walk through the captivating grove.

The man sighed, a hint of reluctance in his expression. "Well, I'm not supposed to."

Lincoln pressed on, determined to uncover more. "What happened? How did the Guardians send a meteor to Earth? I assume the war wasn't that long for it to have existed for more than sixty billion years. This is in Earth's time, by the way. For Alvanian, it would've been a hundred times more."

The man chuckled, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You're right. How could Alvans from only a hundred years ago have sent a meteor to Earth billions of years ago?" He repeated the question, allowing the implications to settle in Lincoln's mind.

"Time travel..." Lincoln whispered, the revelation hitting him like a bolt of lightning.

"Exactly," the man affirmed. "All Moderators had left the physical plane long before the Titans went extinct. The Guardians decided to send their most powerful wielders back, trillions of years, in time to send one of the Moderators to another planet for this plan of theirs to work. All they needed to do was capture one as it was beginning its descent. ModCytron fell victim to it, hence changing the future and Earth's fate. However, the Guardians never expected such destruction."

Lincoln frowned, recalling Aytrex telling him that the mass extinction event was caused by the dinosaurs' inability to adapt. "I thought it was because the dinosaurs were too stupid to fend themselves."

The man's eyes held a depth of knowledge. "Yeah, that's what they labeled it as. But they all knew, no species would've survived a destruction of that level. It tinkered with the core of Earth itself and wiped out the entire planet. Almost as if it was cleaning the planet for another species."

"Cleaning the planet?" Lincoln asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, as they entered a quaint café. It was a marvel of the country's craftsmanship, with intricate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the patrons. Tables were adorned with crystal-clear tops, giving the illusion of dining on air, and the chairs seemed to be hewn from living vines, which gently cradled those who sat upon them.

They found themselves a seat near a crystal-clear window that afforded a breathtaking view of a cascading waterfall outside. Waitstaff glided gracefully between tables, their attire a blend of traditional Kon Guardio design and modern elegance. It was a place where tradition and innovation merged seamlessly.

They placed their orders, and Lincoln's thoughts returned to their conversation.

"A measly meteor couldn't have caused that much destruction. And to wipe all living beings off the face of the planet just seemed too convenient," the man said, sipping from his glass.

"Convenient to who?" Lincoln asked, leaning in with a sense of urgency.

The man shrugged, his eyes reflecting the depths of uncertainty. "I don't know. Convenient to someone who needed all life forms on Earth to vanish?"

A sudden realization hit Lincoln like a bolt of lightning, and his eyes widened. 

"What is it?" the man asked, his voice low and cautious, as if afraid of the answer.

"The Core Emerald," Lincoln said softly.

The man's eyes darkened with understanding, and a shiver of unease coursed through him. The café, once a haven of tranquility, now seemed to hum with an undercurrent of tension, as the weight of their discovery settled upon them.

"You actually might be right..."