The Start Of The War For The Future.
A/N: I won't be at my PC by the time this chapter is published, so the pictures will have to wait.
One I upload them, I would do so at the chapter comments section, for easy access.
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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.
~1073 BE (Before Emergence) ~ 950 CE (Current Era).
With the death of the Valkyrior, changes came to the power structure of the Nine Realms.
Long ago, when monotheism began to propagate across the 'Old Continent' and most belief systems outside the Judeo-Christian religion were deemed paganistic, several pantheons left Earth. Odin's rightful claim over the realm itself served only to justify these migrations more easily.
The simple fact that—contrary to most pantheons—the Aesir had been a unified front under Asgard's royal family for three consecutive generations up to that point made it easier for them to stand as the second most powerful pantheon after the Drachantheon Therion. So no fool sought to clash with Odin after he declared control over Midgard.
It wasn't solely Odin's power as Asgard's Skyfather and the Aesir's unity that warded off attacks from other pantheons; there was also the reputation of Hela and her terror campaign, and the group of elite demigoddesses known as the Valkyrior.
Yet it soon became a known fact after her imprisonment that Hela had messed with Aragorn and almost paid for it with her life. At least, that's what the rumor said; in reality, she did pay for it with her life.
News of Hela's early retirement lit aflame the drive for rebellion among some of the subjugated territories. Because, while Asgard was not tyrannical in its rule, it had been during its conquests.
Asgard did not go around the Nine Realms claiming subjugated civilizations as slaves—they didn't force them to build statues in their name or worship them, unlike the usual human practices of empires toward subjugated territories—yet they did ransack most of these civilizations of their valuables after conquest.
The Royal Palace of Valaskjalf, with entire sections laden in gold, didn't build itself with the imaginary resources that could be extracted from the tiny floating island known as Asgard. A floating island so small, with such opulence atop it, was not something that could be constructed with the meager resources found within it.
Hence, most of the subjugated territories were not happy with their overlord.
Still, this had not been enough to erupt into rebellion. Odin was in his prime, and his somewhat recent marriage with Freyja only served to strengthen the unity between the Vanir and Aesir. And let's not forget that the Valkyrior—the group that fought alongside Hela—were still around.
But this changed upon the extermination of the Valkyrior.
No Hela, no Valkyrior, and rumors that Odin's strength had diminished so much in sealing Hela that he had to turn to the entity that took his eye and marked him with scars all over his body—these spread and changed the general outlook.
So, by 951 CE, rebellion exploded in Muspelheim and Jotunheim. Muspelheim's rebellion was not a surprise; even though the realm had been claimed by Asgard upon the defeat of Surtur by Odin's hand in 3460 BCE, its inhabitants knew naught else aside from war. Jotunheim, however, was a different matter.
The fire demons were a disorganized mob; their rebellion would amount to nothing. But the Frost Giants were not. They operated under a feudal system not unlike that of most of Midgard, and that meant societal organization.
Rebellion started, and just like the rumors had said, Odin was so weakened he didn't personally fight during the first battles. In fact, Freyja had to command most of these battles after giving birth to the new heir, Thor.
After more than a decade of grueling battle on multiple fronts, Asgard was weakened, but it wasn't a defenseless beast they could attack. Midgard, however, to the eyes of a race that knew not of the Drachantheon Therion, was vulnerable. Hence, in 965 CE, in Tønsberg, Norway, the Frost Giants took their first step on Earth—and they did so under the chilling blessing of the Casket of Ancient Winters, intending to bring about an Ice Age.
"Set up a fortification," Laufey, King of the Frost Giants, commanded.
In his hands, the Casket of Ancient Winters thrummed with power before directing its freezing magic into the already gelid seas.
The Frost Giants, like the war machine they were, moved to saw off the magical ice to turn it into building blocks.
By the end of the day, a giant fortification built from the magical ice created by the Casket stood tall, in proportions fit for a race of giants.
The Casket of Ancient Winters—the heart of the operation—rested securely in Laufey's hands, its frost seeping slowly into the ice fortification, reinforcing it, and then, further beyond, cooling the planet.
"Have you investigated the structures?" Laufey asked, his tone commanding, his gaze focused on several faraway dark structures that seemed to stab the heavens. Dark as his ambitions, and also the perfect vantage points for the upcoming war against the Asgardians.
"My King, the entrances were closed shut the moment we approached the structures. We tried bringing down the doors blocking our path, but that resulted in failure," a Frost Giant replied.
"They are not Asgardian," Laufey stated. His subordinate listened in silence, for he knew his king was not expecting an answer.
"The Midgardians—what did the captured ones say?" Laufey had ordered his men to storm the nearest town upon their arrival, but more than half of the townspeople had escaped successfully after the men sacrificed their lives to serve in as an almost meaningless distraction. That's how Laufey became interested in the structures.
"They spoke of a being of old named Akla. This being built the 'Obelisks' for the Midgardians' protection, according to what the captured Midgardians said," he replied.
"A being? Not an ancient civilization?" Laufey asked, his mind going over the implications of such truth.
"Exactly, My King. A being."
"Then we need not be concerned about this being. It must be gone by now. The Allfather is not one to tolerate such a being in his domains," Laufey concluded. "We move to the nearest Obelisk. We'll pry those doors open under the power of the Ancient Winters if we must."
Laufey's inhumanly tall forces marched to the nearest Obelisk, and before reaching its base, they passed through the now desolate and destroyed human town. The culture from millennia ago of building settlements around Obelisks was so deeply ingrained that even after more than seven thousand years, pioneer settlements still first bloomed around Obelisks when possible.
With confidence only the strong—or the frogs in the well—had, the Frost Giants marched to the doors of the Obelisks.
No grand declarations were needed. With clubs, warhammers, morning stars, all manner of blunt-force weapons so heavy and bulky they only looked non-cartoonish in their hands due to the giants' size, they struck violently at the darkened doors built with Dragon Ore.
To no one's surprise—except the Frost Giants'—the result was as futile as Laufey's ambitions for Midgard's crown.
"Move," Laufey commanded, a scowl of disappointment in his men's strength on his face.
He walked with the confidence afforded by the weapon in his hands and pointed the Casket of Ancient Winters at the doors.
A veritable storm of temperatures around absolute zero was unleashed with the aggression it commanded upon the doors.
In a jubilant mood, the Frost Giants observed and waited for what they considered the expected result.
High above the doors and the fools, Aragorn, donning his Horseman of Death attire, observed silently from behind the balcony's balustrade.
"I thought Frost Giants were more advanced than humans, Head. Was that not the case?" the Lucelvi custodian of the Obelisk asked; his mockery was not hidden from his tone.
"In a way, they are. Humans couldn't make it to Jutunheim even by accident; these fools, on the other hand, are here, aren't they?" Aragorn said.
"But Head, it's not only that. Assuming Odin decided to chicken out, even if humanity posed no resistance, how are they expecting to rule over Earth with these few?" the Lucelvi asked.
"... It's not like I'm trying to defend them, but maybe they planned to do as Odin does and only claim ownership over the realm and then return after starting an Ice Age," Aragorn said, though he knew that while plausible, his explanation wasn't veritable.
"... They are savages then," the Lucelvi concluded with conviction.
"They are," Aragorn nodded.
It wasn't long before Laufey's confident demeanor changed into one of perplexity, and his men stood silent in utter confusion; they couldn't comprehend how something resisted the Ancient Winters.
Everything shattered or froze solid under the touch of the casket, yet now they were witnessing something that broke that perceived absolute. No matter the force of the strike, they couldn't make the doors crumble, and worse, even upon touch, they discovered the doors were not cold.
"This is sad," the Lucelvi said. "I think we should tell them the Obelisk is partially phased between planes. The frost is not even connecting with the doors."
"I mean, sure, go ahead, try to explain dimensionality to those brutes," Aragorn chuckled.
The Lucelvi imagined that scenario before saying, "You're right, Head, but this is just sad."
"Give it a day or two before the Domo detects the temperature anomaly. The Eternals would soon follow," Aragorn said.
"Isn't Earth supposed to be under Asgardian rule? Shouldn't Asgard be here by now?" the Lucelvi asked.
"Hela was too much for Odin to seal; he is taking a quick power nap," Aragorn said in mockery. "You seem... anxious, Aveteris. Do you want to attack them?"
"I wouldn't say anxious, Head. I was thinking, I'm the current custodian of this Obelisk; aside from maintenance and oversight of the guests, I'm also tasked with its protection, so... this is a prime chance to 'protect'," Aveteris shamelessly smiled.
"So long as you protect from here, I don't care," Aragorn shrugged. "Don't go down there, though; that casket will freeze you dead."
"Hehehehe!" Aveteris laughed like a spawn of evil. "This cloudy and humid weather has the perfect conditions for a classic."
Aveteris allowed mana to flow from his heart and mix with his chakra from his core. This blend then flowed to his hands, and in a combination of signs, hand movements, and a magic circle, the energy blend fed the clouds.
There was a crescendo of rumbles high above the clouds, flashes of light that heralded the arrival of the wrath of the heavens, and then, one of the most classical spells—the one born during the Vladarionic Era and later perfected and ascended in lethality—flowed out of his mouth with a wide grin: "IRA CAELI!"
"BRACE YOURSELVES!" Laufey hurriedly shouted in warning. He had the chance to raise the Casket of Ancient Winters and aim at the falling attack, but his men could only turn to jump away.
The veritable column of lightning fell upon Laufey and contended with the flow of absolute zero. Both magical phenomena mixed, and something unseen in nature was born: a lightning arc frozen in place.
Laufey, after successfully defending, turned to the balcony where Aragorn and Aveteris calmly stood; both wore mocking grins.
Yet, before Laufey could explode in wrath, Aragorn said, "Aveteris, you missed the king, but you got the pawns. Well done."
The groans of the few lucky—maybe not—ones alive reached Laufey's ears. All of the giants directly beside him had been struck by the secondary discharges.
Laufey, upon seeing this, aimed and released the casket at Aveteris and Aragorn, yet, as if stopped by an infinite distance, the absolute zero temperatures never reached them.
"What sorcery is this?" Laufey asked.
"Shoo, shoo, go away," Aragorn said mockingly.
Laufey couldn't react to this mockery because accompanying Aragorn's words was a pillar of lightning that behaved more like a plasma laser. He didn't aim at Laufey; instead, he made the laser fall in front of them and then slowly dragged the laser at them in warning.
Laufey reacted by using his only trick, and pointed the casket at the laser of lightning before releasing the Ancient Winters, though this time the target was not frozen.
"RETREAT!" Laufey had no choice but to command upon seeing the slowly approaching laser.
"Head, is this one of those important events? Is that why you didn't kill him?" Aveteris asked.
"Yeah. So long as he keeps away from the Obelisks, he is allowed to continue his idiotic campaign and then fail," Aragorn said dismissively. He then made a gesture, and the fallen bodies floated to him.
"[Opus Genus]," Aragorn said, and a bright light engulfed the bodies.
When the light subsided, four spears bathed in a cold vapor appeared. The spearheads were either light blue crystals or ice—it was hard to tell—and the shafts seemed to be made of a dark blue bone. Although they all had differences from one another, the main theme they shared was coldness.
"What are those, Head?" Aveteris asked. He could infer the spears were made from the bodies, but he did not understand the nature of the spell.
"It's the result of a new spell I created. It conceptualizes the form of a target in relation to its nature and then brings that form to actuality by using the matter, energy, mind, and soul—when applicable—of the target," Aragorn explained before handing one of the spears to Aveteris. "These deal some cold necrotic damage on their attacks."
"Agh, it's heavy," Aveteris voiced before reinforcing his body with chakra.
"It has the weight of a giant, so they are considerably heavy," Aragorn explained.
"How good are they?" Aveteris asked as he made a few piercing stabs with the spear.
"It depends on the target of the spell. In this case, they are a little bit stronger than a regular steel spear, with the obvious advantage of the necrotic damage," Aragorn said.
"That's actually quite good!" Aveteris exclaimed, excited about the magic of the Head of the deities he worshipped. "What's the limit? Can you use it on a singularity?"
Aragorn made a short pause to admire Aveteris' mind. Not everyone could go for the end of the universe option on their first try.
"I could, but the problem is that the resulting weapon would be denser than a singularity, and that would break reality," Aragorn calmly explained as if his comment had not made reality shiver in fear.
"Oh, I see. It operates within the conservation of mass-energy principle. That means no celestial objects," Aveteris said.
"Yeah, but the good thing is that I can use it on living beings, so technically I could cast it on Kitty and get myself a law-breaking sword or something of the sort," Aragorn chuckled.
A day later, the Eternals arrived to investigate the origin of the plummeting temperatures, and not long after that, the Bifrost Bridge deposited Freyja and a considerable part of the Asgardian army in Tønsberg.
"Head, Head, I think there's something wrong with my head, I need help!" Aveteris panicked and sought Aragorn for help.
"There's nothing wrong with your head—aside from the usual—Aveteris," Aragorn said.
"No, that can't be. Otherwise, how do you explain the hallucination I am experiencing?" Aveteris's panic hadn't subsided even after Aragorn's reassurances.
"It's no hallucination," Aragorn said after turning to where Aveteris was gazing. "That's the queen of Asgard with its heir strapped to her chest, wielding a toy hammer," Aragorn assured.
"... What the fuck?" Aveteris asked, his eyes wide open.
Now, Aveteris had seen some crazy stuff throughout his young life. He still remembered that time when there was a goddesshunt for the Goddess of Law after she stole a moon from imperial control, and the time when he saw one of the locals use animal feces to treat an open wound during his first year as a custodian, or the time when the Queen restarted the Elder Wars against the Collector because he mentioned he wanted her as part of his collection. The point is that he had seen some crazy stuff, but this was the first time he had seen something as batshit crazy as this.
Freyja was wearing full armor, and the leather baby carrier was armored as well. The surrounding soldiers saw nothing strange in this, which only made everything seem more surreal.
"... Queen of Asgard," Ajak said after a brief silence, "Why is your baby..." Ajak didn't know how to finish the question.
"Asgardians are natural-born warriors; it's recommended to stimulate their battle instincts from a young age," Freyja replied matter-of-factly.
"... It's an honor to fight side by side with Asgard's queen and warriors," Ajak said as if she had not asked her previous question and had never heard the answer to it. Her fellow Eternal also turned a blind eye to reality.
While the Eternals continued their introductions and went over the battle plan, Aveteris, who was covertly observing the group from the Obelisk's balcony, said, "Head, are you sure that woman is sane? There's no scenario in which bringing a toddler to the battlefield is indicative of sanity."
"If you were to use future human psychology to evaluate her, then no, she is not sane. But that also applies to you, the Duskari. On the other hand, if you were to use Duskari psychology to analyze her, then she would also come out as not sane," Aragorn said.
"What about under an Asgardian psycheval?" Aveteris asked.
"There's no such thing. Do you feel like Odin's actions towards his daughter speak volumes about psychological responsibility? Asgardians have healers, but not healers of the mind beyond the scope applicable to battles," Aragorn said.
Aveteris had no option other than to nod and accept reality.
A battle ensued that normally would have been a clash of mythical proportions. One side had Frost Giants wielding the power of the Ancient Winters and the cessation of molecular motion, and on the other side, the Asgardians and their queen and prince stood side by side with the race of near-immortal synthetic beings created by the creator of the universe.
Yet, that's not what happened. It wasn't a clash of mythical proportions. It was a trashing definitely worth a place in the history books, but nothing mythical could be found in it when the Eternals pulled lightsabers and had a speedster and a guy who could claim airspace superiority.
"Speedster plus lightsaber should be an illegal combo," Aveteris commented.
"Yeah, the lightsabers are so hot that even while moving at those speeds, they can melt through almost anything," Aragorn said, acknowledging the game-breaking mechanics of the combo.
The trashing came to an end quickly enough, and the Frost Giants ran back to Jotunheim. The Asgardians followed after, and so did Aragorn. With all the changes that had happened, he wanted to ensure Freyja would adopt Loki and not derail the timeline.
999 CE...
The new millennium came, and Aragorn wrote in the night sky: You did better during the last millennium, pathetic.
It was clear he still wasn't happy about the start of the Dark Ages.
His message not only served to criticize humanity, but it also let humans—after centuries of prolonged absence—know that Aquila was still alive.
Three centuries passed in the blink of an eye, and Aragorn spent most of his time—when he wasn't carrying out slaughters in battlefields—studying and expanding his repertoire of spells; he was also working on the mechanics to separate Gaea from Earth and finalizing his work with Tiamut.
The System was another one of his focuses, especially after he had gone over the data collected in the Tensura world. Short of providing a clear-cut manner to read stats, The System was slowly approaching the heights of a true system.
Around 1316 CE, he decided to pause and witness the birth of the most influential human of the Current Era... The Ancient One.
"Are these this universe's counterparts for your parents?" Aragorn asked.
He was currently hugging from behind a beautiful fox goddess of silver-white fur and nine swaying soft tails of equal splendor.
They were observing from inside the Mirror Dimension.
"Physically, they were the same, but our origins are different," Yao replied with a serenity now characteristic of her, but that during her time protecting Earth-5H1N3 was impossible to see in her.
"Her mother is one of the sorceresses working in The Great Wall, and her father is a merchant from the Imperial Highway part of the Silk Route. Was it different for you?" Aragorn asked.
"In my case, my parents were peasants conscripted to build the Great Wall during the Ming Dynasty. My mother passed away after my birth, and I only got to see her face when I became the Sorcerer Supreme and peeked at my past.
"My father had no time to raise me, so he approached one of the sorceresses who had a stillbirth not long after my birth. When I was five, he died to a blitzkrieg of the Mongol horsemen. Luckily, I was found to have an impressive affinity with universal energies, so the Order of Sorcerers took me in," Yao recounted.
Aragorn and Yao remained silent while observing the newborn baby, until Aragorn broke the silence with, "I wish there were multiversal counterparts to me."
"Why?" Yao asked. She changed the tail Aragorn was combing with his biokinesis for an uncombed one.
"I'm sure there were other me's I absorbed when I ate my Universe, but after that... I became an aspect of Void-chan. So now, whenever I ask myself if other me's would have taken a different approach to something, I can only make another Self and have it run the scenario. You can just take a quick look into another reality to find out the results of the What if's," Aragorn explained.
"I hadn't thought about it from that point of view before. Normally, people want to be unique, so there's usually some sense of apprehension about the idea of infinite selves," Yao explained.
"Seeking uniqueness could be one of the most stupid of paths, because everything is unique and the same," Aragorn said.
"That's a paradox," Yao commented.
"Verbally, yes, it is. In reality, it's the truth. Even this baby, at this point in her life, compared to you at the same exact point in your life, would be vastly different from you. I could tell," Aragorn said.
"Is it because of your eyes?" Yao asked.
"Yes. Even at the very start of both of your lives, each of you is unique," Aragorn said.
"I don't believe that's the type of uniqueness people seek," Yao chuckled softly.
"Maybe not, but it doesn't change the fact that no one is inherently the same as anyone—not even multiversal counterparts," Aragorn shrugged.
"I'll have one of my students write about that," Yao smiled; she found the topic interesting.
Aragorn and Yao continued to observe the girl, even through most of her early life. They were there when she first cast magic, and even when she was given the mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme. They stopped observing her when she made a contract with Dormamu.
"I think I'll see about stealing her soul from Dormammu's grasp before we return to our universe," Yao said.
"Suit yourself, Yao," Aragorn replied. He cared about Yao, but only his Yao.
1346 CE...
It began on the Silk Road—death sweeping westward from the steppes of Central Asia.
In the trading port of Caffa on the Black Sea, Mongol forces besieged a Genoese outpost. When illness struck the Mongol camp, they catapulted infected corpses over the city walls—biological warfare in its rawest form. Fleeing sailors carried the illness with them across the Mediterranean.
By 1347, the first cases arrived in Messina, Sicily, aboard Genoese ships. Within months, death fanned out like wildfire, reaching Genoa, Venice, and Marseille. The disease traveled faster than armies and more relentlessly than any prior scourge, hitching rides on fleas that infested the black rats nestled in cargo ships and merchant wagons.
The Yersinia pestis bacterium had arrived. The Black Death was here.
Swollen lymph nodes in the groin, armpits, and neck turned black and painful. Blood infection led to internal bleeding and blackened extremities, accompanied by the ravaging of the lungs, and killing in days or hours.
People would wake up healthy and die by nightfall.
In towns, the stench of rotting bodies filled the air. Whole families perished overnight, and graveyards overflowed. In some cities, dogs and pigs fed on corpses in the streets. Desperate gravediggers died faster than they could bury others.
Bell towers rang endlessly—until the bell ringers themselves were dead.
By 1348, the plague had ravaged Paris, Florence, and London. By 1350, it reached Scandinavia and the edges of Russia.
No corner of Europe was spared. Even the most isolated hamlets saw their populations vanish, like smoke into the wind. Entire villages and towns were lost to the Black Death.
To the ignorant humanity, this was divine punishment, bad air (miasma), or the influence of planetary alignments. Exactly the type of people who would claim vaccines were evil.
"These fucking idiots!" Aragorn exclaimed.
Jews were scapegoated—accused of poisoning wells or conspiring with the Devil to unleash the plague. Between 1348–1351 CE, hundreds of Jewish communities were annihilated in places like Strasbourg, Mainz, and Cologne. These pogroms caused mass displacements, spreading infected populations or survivors who carried the disease with them.
"Are they stupid?!" Aragorn questioned what he already knew.
Cats were associated with witchcraft and the Devil. As a result, mass cat cullings had taken place. However, cats were the natural predators of rats—the real disease carriers—and their absence allowed rat populations to explode, worsening the spread.
"This is beyond the point of ignorance," Aragorn said.
People fled cities en masse, hoping to escape infection. Unfortunately, they unknowingly carried the plague with them. Religious pilgrimages and gatherings (despite quarantine efforts in some places) also spread the disease rapidly from town to town.
"At least this is understandable. If a place is surrounded by death, you would prefer to move," Aragorn commented.
The Flagellant movement surged: roving mobs whipped themselves in public to atone for humanity's sins. These crowds attracted thousands, turning into mass super-spreader events.
Aragorn facepalmed.
While some cities like Venice attempted quarantine (inventing the term quaranta giorni, 40 days), others refused to believe the plague was real—clearly ancestors of flat-earthers—or delayed action. Ports, towns, and manors hid cases to maintain trade, unwittingly unleashing the disease deeper inland.
Aragorn decided to stop minding it.
People burned herbs, incense, sulfur, and spices in homes or wore them in pouches (pomanders) to fight "bad air" (miasma theory).
"I mean, that doesn't help, but compared to the previous practices, I feel like saying that it's progress," Aragorn chuckled.
Treatments included bleeding patients, applying dung poultices, or using toad and snake meat.
"Oh, come on!" Aragorn cried out loud. "Animal crap?! That's what you came up with?!"
Many people, fearing contagion, abandoned their families, including children and parents. Bodies were left to rot in homes or on the streets, attracting vermin and increasing infection.
"Again, I can't blame them for that. I used to abandon my sisters when they got the flu," Aragorn shrugged.
Some turned to astrologers to interpret plague portents based on planetary alignments—clear neanderthal behavior. Others hunted witches or heretics, thinking dark magic was responsible. None of these addressed the actual vector of the disease—the rat-flea-human chain.
'The timeline is deviating.'
|The Emergence will be delayed at this rate.|
>Yes, intervention will be needed.<
-Butterfly effect?-
|Maybe we (I) killed too many in the previous conflicts.|
'Yeah, that could be why the timeline is deviating.'
Around 1353, the human world shook.
By the millions, Aragorn's SplitSelves—the ones usually in charge of covertly collecting souls—manifested all around where the Black Plague had touched.
Eyes that flickered with stars, horns of all shapes and sizes, a wisp of flame swaying independently from the wind between their horns, robes woven with the umbra—the skeletons couldn't be a more apt representation of the breath of death characteristic of the time, even if they tried.
Panic wasn't enough of a word to describe humanity's reaction. Terror, alarm, fright, and mass hysteria neared the truth, yet it still wasn't enough.
Some prayed, others tried to fight.
Some surrendered themselves, some tried to escape.
The church tried to exorcise them 'evil spirits'.
The nobles tried to command them.
The kings sent their sickened armies against them.
Yet they all received the same treatment, regardless of status or condition.
They were all forcibly quarantined in their homes.
The world was forced to pause.
No ship was allowed to port.
Those travelling were forced by the SplitSelves into psionic bubbles, just as those without homes.
Those ill were separated from those in good health. Then the ill would recount how they fell unconscious, only to wake up completely healed.
Then the wild hunt started. From the cloaks of umbra of the millions of SplitSelves, cats in all breeds emerged and meowed eagerly. It was as if the humans had been replaced by cats in the human cities.
Except, some of these cats were not normal. Most cats would hunt rats and eat them to satiation, but after that, they would continue hunting and then bring the rats to certain cats. From the mouths of these cats, tentacles far longer than humans were tall would emerge and swallow the rats whole.
"THE DEVIL!!!" more than one cried before fainting.
This went on for entire weeks, and when the task was finally completed, the SplitSelves—with voices that overlapped all of Aragorn's voices—called out to the cats. Under the tired and fearful eyes of the many, the cats understood and all marched like a well-trained army to the SplitSelves and sank into their cloaks.
After this came the heavenly judgment. The previously tamed flames atop the SplitSelves grew in size until most of Europe was set alight. Except, no human, animal, plant, object, or any form of life but that of the culprit of the Black Death was hurt; the fleas.
By the thousands would have died of heart attacks, if not for the SplitSelves that forced those hearts to keep pumping.
For an entire day, Europe, all around the Mediterranean Sea, and basically everywhere the Black Death had touched, burned in the bluish-white cleansing flames of purification.
And when it was thought that the event of biblical proportions had passed, the SplitSelves took ownership of all infected corpses and carried them to the nearest Obelisks.
At this point, the humans had been granted their freedom, so they followed the SplitSelves. Some demanded the return of the bodies of their beloved, some were curious, and some had grown to see the SplitSelves as semidivine entities and simply decided to follow them.
When they made it to the Obelisks, they discovered that the first underground floors of the Obelisks had been turned into crypts.
After laying each body into the appropriate slot, the SplitSelves disappeared like a mirage, just like they had arrived.
By the time the plague was ended by Aragorn, it had claimed the lives of an estimated 55 million people in Europe alone—half of the population. Globally, the toll reached 206 million.
As a result, aside from the impact that such a decrease in population had on kingdoms, empires, and nations, the Church's failure to protect or explain the plague shook faith in religious institutions.
And by the time they finally found old passages—which they had to struggle to translate—depicting the relationship between A'Heelah—an archaic name for Aquila, from their perspective—and the wraiths, the seeds for religious reform movements that would eventually lead to the Reformation had been planted.
The impact of Aragorn's actions spread to art and literature, where it became common to follow a macabre trend featuring the theme of the SplitSelves.
The great thinkers observed and analyzed the SplitSelves' actions, and from that, thinkers like Ibn al-Khatib (in Granada) argued the plague was contagious—a radical idea at odds with divine-punishment theories.
Physicians began noting symptoms, contagion patterns, and social behaviors, and many were able to do the simple extrapolation that the rats were related to the plague. This contributed to early proto-epidemiology.
Following the example, in 1377 (soon after the first plague wave), the port of Ragusa (modern Dubrovnik) pioneered quarantine by isolating ships for trentina (30 days), later extended to quaranta giorni (40 days). They also began killing all rats on ships.
In an effort to imitate the purifying flames of the SplitSelves, the regular use of hot temperatures as a form of purification became the norm in the form of flames, boiling water, or simple exposure to the hearth located in most homes.
The sighting of the SplitSelves also reinforced the idea that had been planted three centuries ago—that Aquila still lived.
1428 CE...
A coalition of three Nahua city-states formed a military and political alliance: Tenochtitlan, Texcoco, and Tlacopan.
The Triple Alliance would later be called by the colonialist Europeans the Aztec Empire, which would later become Mexico.
A decade after this, in 1438 CE, the Inca Empire is established in South America, and it begins its expansion.
1452 CE...
In the late summer of 1452, the navigator Diogo de Teive and his son João de Teive discovered the Sanctum Ingeniorum.
In it, Aragorn (Aquila) was found along what was named the Kingdom of Knowledge.
When the news of a library sponsored by Aragorn and Hestia—figures associated since ancient times with the gathering of knowledge—so vast, and an island with installations for learning of open access, made it to the continent, more than a few lost their minds just thinking about the knowledge that could be found in there.
This was only to be expected; throughout history, on multiple occasions, there have been legends of knowledge lost to the pass of time, but there has always been a constant—Hestia and Aragorn's presences at some point in the life of great thinkers, with promises of immortalizing their works.
To this point, like one of the great questions, humanity had wondered about the final destination of these works. They don't have to wonder anymore.
For many, this was nothing short of a divine blessing; to some, like the Church, this was a matter of great concern. As was clearly written by several popes of previous centuries, Aquila had confiscated pagan knowledge before they could get their hands on it; now that knowledge had become public access.
"I can't believe there's a pope crazy enough to take a ship and voyage this far," Selene commented.
She was standing between Aragorn and Hestia, on one of the higher floors of the Libralisk, as they observed a ship make port in the main harbor of the island.
"Some kings or the like will probably make the same trip," Aragorn said. "That's how big of a deal this place is."
"What will you do about your kin, Selene?" Hestia asked. "The matter of their immortality will probably come to light eventually."
"Well, there's me, you, and Aragorn as prime examples of unaging beings in human history. I don't think it'll matter much until the modern era, when humanity will be emboldened by technology," Selene shrugged.
"There's also the fall of Constantinople; Europe and the Islamic world won't have much time to wage war with the Sanctum Ingeniorum, what with them busy with each other, and later the discovery of America," Aragorn added.
"Ah, that's just a few decades away," Hestia voiced in realization. "The Imperium will wage war with the TVA, won't it?"
"Yes, finally we'll be done with that," Aragorn said. He was tired of the Duskari acting like a child during a long trip, asking, 'Are we there yet?'.
Hestia went to receive Pope Nicholas V and give him, along with his entourage, a guided tour around the island before making it to the Libralisk.
The grandeur of the Libralisk couldn't be ignored upon entry into its vast halls and witnessing floors covered in bookshelves, as if creating the walls of a labyrinth. This wasn't to say that other Obelisks were not as imposing as the Libralisk; the difference lay in the fact that humans had restricted access to the upper and lower floors of an Obelisk.
Unless under extraordinary circumstances, a human would never make it past the first seven floors of an Obelisk, upward or downward.
But in the Libralisk, the pope and the cardinals accompanying him rode one of the elevators, shooting them to the highest floor of the Libralisk—the floor that, were it not for the artificial atmosphere, would have been uninhabitable due to extremely low temperatures and a thin atmosphere.
Tall, polarized, transparent walls allowed an unobstructed view of the heavenly landscape that could only be found at cloudy heights.
It was already evening, and the night sky had graced the mortal world with its stellar presence. The obscured clouds could only be spotted thanks to the reflection of moonlight on their nubulous surface.
"It's almost otherworldly, isn't it?" Aragorn asked the mouth-agape guests.
"A-Apostle Aquila, may the grace of our Lord Jesus be with you," Pope Nicholas V greeted. "This is a view blessed by the Lord, brother Aquila."
"May you receive the blessings of the one you worship, Nicholas," Aragorn replied, saying what at this point had become his historical greeting for any believer of Yahweh. "Nicholas, cardinals, you may take a seat."
From the floor of the room, comfortable chairs emerged, as if by the transfiguration of the floor, around a rectangular table. Aragorn floated to one of the heads of the table, and the pope took a seat at the other head, next to his cardinals.
"It's quite the historical event to have you here, isn't it, Nicholas?" Aragorn asked. He waved his tail, and a sumptuous feast, along with beverages, appeared.
The men of faith said their prayers before taking a bite.
"Brother Aquila, your absence ever since the fall of the Roman Empire has been a matter of concern and speculation for centuries now. Although the custodians of your Obelisks attested to your health, it served not to quell the voices of the many who claimed your death.
"Many said you were disappointed, and the message in the stars for the millennial cycle was evidence for these claims. Your absence during these war-torn eras has been felt greatly. Your alms and healing graces were taken for granted, and your absence forcibly brought this to light—especially during the Black Death, when your servants acted to put a definite end to it.
"However, even then, you were not seen personally. Hence, it's a matter of utmost importance that I visit you upon your reemergence," Pope Nicholas V explained.
"I understand," Aragorn nodded, before taking a bite of a flan Seraph had sent him. "Disappointment isn't exactly it... I've observed humanity since its conception; humanity kills—that's inherent to you. So I can't exactly be disappointed by what I already knew would happen, can I?
"But it would be a lie to say that your race's behavior had nothing to do with my absence. So, I was not disappointed; I simply found no value in becoming part of the previous ages.
"I decided to leave my SplitSelves—the ones you called my servants—to covertly complete my tasks of collecting knowledge, and I stopped healing the fools that would jump to their deaths at the minimal inconvenience either way.
"Territorial disputes, resource dissensions, faith, origin, bloodline, history—anything at all can become a motive for war, so... I removed myself from the matter altogether before you decided to involve me in it," Aragorn said.
Silence populated the table. The pope and his cardinals did not know how to refute or what to comment on Aragorn's words.
"There's no need for the long faces. I'll stay mostly here or on my other territories, and you shall continue with your lives. I'll intervene if too many of you begin dying—like during the Black Death—and that's the end of it," Aragorn said dismissively.
Pope Nicholas V and his cardinals stayed in the Sanctum Ingeniorum for over a month, as they had to wait for the wind currents to shift. During their stay, they delved into some of the lost texts of the Libralisk and explored the multiple installations for learning on the island.
Upon his return, he actively sought out and employed prominent artists and intellectuals in Rome, spurred by what he saw in the Sanctum Ingeniorum. These actions would later grant him the title of Patron of the Arts and Learning, and he would be widely regarded as the first Renaissance Pope.
Inspired by the Libralisk, he systematically founded the Vatican Library, aiming to make Rome a center of learning by collecting and preserving classical and Christian texts. He employed scribes and translators to copy and translate important works from the Libralisk, laying the foundation for one of the world's most important libraries.
During his papacy, an event with a significant impact on Europe occurred, leading to an influx of Byzantine scholars and texts into Italy, further fueling the Renaissance.
April 1453 CE...
The Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II launched a full-scale siege of Constantinople, the capital of the Byzantine Empire. The Byzantine emperor, Constantine XI Palaiologos, defended it with only 7,000 soldiers, including a few hundred Genoese and Venetian mercenaries.
Mehmed brought an army of over 80,000, including elite Janissaries and massive cannons—notably a giant bombard built by a Hungarian engineer named Orban. These cannons would become key to breaching the Theodosian Walls, the great fortifications that had protected the city for centuries.
On May 29, 1453, after 53 days of siege, the Ottomans launched a final, overwhelming assault. Emperor Constantine XI died sword in hand, refusing to flee. The Ottomans poured into the city, looting, killing, and enslaving thousands. Churches were desecrated, including the Hagia Sophia (one of the buildings blessed by Aragorn to last for eternity), which was converted into a mosque.
But this was nothing new. Empires, kingdoms, coalitions, nations—they all had one thing in common: they had a beginning and an end.
However, in this case, the fall of the Byzantine Empire could be said to be one, if not the most important, event of the Current Era.
Constantinople had been a key link between Europe and the East—the Silk Road. The spice trade and other goods from India and China all passed through it. With the Ottomans in control of the Bosphorus and eastern Mediterranean, they could tax or block Christian merchants.
This meant that trade with Asia became far more expensive and dangerous, especially for Italians and other European merchants. This economic disruption inspired European kingdoms to find alternative paths to India and China, avoiding Ottoman-controlled land and sea routes.
And in doing so, it directly motivated maritime exploration—ergo, the Age of Discovery.
Portugal began sending ships south along the coast of Africa, eventually rounding the Cape of Good Hope in 1488. Spain, after uniting under Ferdinand and Isabella, sponsored Christopher Columbus in 1492 to find a western sea route to Asia.
The Fall of Constantinople signaled the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of the early modern world. The Age of Discovery—and later the colonization of the Americas, Indian Ocean trade, and even the global spice wars—all trace their roots to this moment.
So, on September 18, 1502, after Christopher Columbus had decided to avoid a startling curved wall of fog that concealed his path ahead, and he had landed on a coast on the Caribbean side of what was to become Mexico, where he was not supposed to beach, the Sacred Timeline shook.
Countless events had already deviated from the script; people who should have lived died, people who should have died lived, and the conclusions of many important historical events were altered.
Yet, up until this moment, due to Aragorn's unimaginable level of causality intervention, chaos control—mainly thanks to many spells he learned from Wanda Maximoff—and cosmic recalibration—the Cosmic Compass also helped—if one were to compare both the intended and the current Sacred Timeline, one could claim that although different paths were taken, the conclusion was the same.
But this was the point of divergence. The divergence would not be noticed immediately, and only around the middle of the 20th century would impactful consequences surface. From there, the deviation would spiral out of control until half of the Avengers were not even born, and Thanos was successful in family-planning the universe. That's why the landing of Christopher Columbus in continental America was so historically important.
From the TVA's perspective, it all appeared to be leading to this said doomed path, and that couldn't be tolerated.
From Victor Timely's perspective, he couldn't see the birth of Loki's variant, and that was just as apocalyptic as the end of the Sacred Timeline itself.
Aragorn's PuppeteerSelf pulled out of Victor Timely's head, and Aragorn stopped concealing the Fulgebunt Draconis Imperium from the TVA, for it was now impossible to mask the deviation in the Sacred Timeline.
Victor Timely, in his long existence, had never experienced hysteria like he did at that moment when the PuppeteerSelf stopped controlling him.
All of his previous actions—all the times he was forced to either ignore or work around a deviation—came rushing to his mind.
The humiliation of almost quite literally becoming a puppet.
The existential dread of something existing beyond the All, beyond the Sacred Timeline.
The scientific intrigue of what existed beyond the All.
The smear to his honor of being used like that, especially for someone of his self-perceived standing and importance.
Oh, and the wrath. Unbridled rage, uncontrolled fury. Outrage.
All of this combined led to only one path. War.
"Miss Minutes, prepare the TVA," he ordered his AI.
"Hey there, handsome!" The holographic display of an orange animated clock appeared. "It's been so long since you called for me, I thought you had forgotten about little ol' me," she said with a flirtatious tone, addressing her creator. "What should I prepare the TVA for?"
"WAR!" Victor Timely declared.
The Isthmus, 1502 CE...
Like the beginning of everything, it started with a Big Bang.
Something seemed to glitch near one of the main roads of the solarpunk capital city, Urbes Sorores. It was as if space had turned into a mangled jigsaw puzzle for a moment—and the next, it had shifted to a broken mirror. It was as if the space-time mesh couldn't figure out how to break. Then, as if giving up, it imploded into nothingness and, upon new space filling the void left behind, a sonic boom echoed across the empty streets.
Another of the same glitches appeared on a different road. Again, it imploded, and a sonic boom followed closely after.
Inside one of the obelisk-like skyscrapers.
In the lush jungle filled with megafauna.
In the outskirts of the city.
In one of the satellite cities of Urbes Sorores.
On the beaches of the Isthmus.
In the artificially created natural islands of the Caribbean.
In the artificially created natural islands of the Pacific.
In the active volcanoes that populated the backbone mountain ridge of the Isthmus.
Near the bases of the obelisks.
Near the bases of the Northern and Southern Scales.
Atop the Northern and Southern Scales.
Sonic booms—synonymous with localized spatial collapse and reinstitution phenomena—came and went like an earthquake swarm all around the Isthmus.
Amid this cacophony of sonic booms, not a single living soul could be found. None of the humans born from the ABMax. No Duskari. No Eternal Duskari (the offspring of Dark Elves and Duskari). No High Humans. No Dark Elves. No Kaiju Spider. No Megafauna. Nothing that could be considered alive within the standard definition, aside from non-sentient life, remained in the Isthmus.
In the Null-Time Zone, where the TVA resides, alarms blared, paperwork flew, and analysts, Minutemen, and Hunters scrambled left and right while the TVA itself shook with tremors.
In one of the deployment halls—the locations from which the TVA's Minutemen and Hunters deployed via the time doors to the Sacred Timeline—chaos and destruction ensued after it became the origin of an explosion that took the lives of any around the incursion point.
"ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! SPATIAL CONTAMINATION LEAKING FROM THE TARGET POINTS. ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! CEASE ACTIVATION OF ALL TIME DOORS. ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!"
Miss Minutes' transmission began playing on repeat throughout all the deployment halls.
"I need to know how we were locked out of the zone of variation!" Judge Gamble demanded.
She was a Judge and General from the Council of Judges of the Time Variance Authority. Alongside her stood Judge Dox and Judge Ravonna Renslayer.
"General! Analyst C137 reporting!" An analyst wearing the clothes of a classical overworked 9-to-5 employee addressed Judge Gamble.
Judge Gamble nodded at Analyst C137, indicating for him to continue with the report.
"We've been able to compile initial scans from just before the explosions began. The spatial contamination carried traces of dark matter and dark energy in concentrations only found near event horizons. Additionally, the pressure of entry—which is the cause of the explosions—is equal to a third of what could theoretically be expected from opening a time door in such locations," Analyst C137 explained with as much calm as he could afford upon understanding the findings—which was not much.
"In simpler terms, Analyst C137," Judge Dox ordered.
"Opening time doors at the target location, the zone of variation—also known as the Panama Isthmus—is the equivalent of trying to open a time door near the event horizon of a black hole, Generals," Analyst C137 explained while wiping cold sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
"But Earth still stands. How is that possible?" Judge Ravonna Renslayer asked.
If the findings of Analyst C137 were correct, then the entire planet Earth should have been eaten by a singularity by now. Given that the Sacred Timeline hadn't exploded in its entirety, that was not the case.
"Generals, the data is being corroborated as we speak, but the initial findings have been cross-referenced multiple times for certainty," Analyst C137 replied.
"Let's open a test time door somewhere outside the Panama Isthmus to verify how far this 'interference' can be found outside the zone of variation," Judge Ravonna Renslayer suggested.
Analyst C137 was dismissed, and after convening for a few minutes, the Judges' Council agreed to run several tests to identify the area of influence of the interference.
What they discovered couldn't have been more different from what they expected.
Although planet Earth still stood in one piece, which was a relief, it was vastly different from what it should have been, from what they've been observing all this time.
First of all, there were the impossibly tall obelisks that didn't appear in their readings and were shrouded in just as much mystery as the zone of variation.
Then, from the reports of the Minutemen and Hunters on the night side of the planet, the moon had gained a clearly artificial ring that, again, didn't appear in their readings. It was as if these structures had no impact on the Sacred Timeline, which, to their knowledge, should have been impossible.
Lastly, the zone of variation was an entire dome shrouded in fog, with one impossibly tall clear semi-translucent wall on the northern continental face, and an impossibly tall dark semi-translucent wall on the southern continental face.
Access through water appeared to be impossible, as the fog not only acted as an obstacle to vision, but also seemed to disorient cognition, resulting in utterly confused Minutemen who had returned after hours from within the fog, claiming to have only moved forward for minutes.
"Both south and north walls have a single entrance," an analyst said while explaining the data acquired. "The initial assumption was that it was to regulate the entrance and force enemies to confluence into a funnel, but both entrances are large enough to comfortably fit several commercial airplanes in flight.
"The probes we sent in through the tunnels returned with a negative on ambushes, but heavily reinforced unmanned fortifications were found on the other side, possibly armed with sentries," the analyst informed.
"What about the high spatial density?" Judge Gamble asked.
"No abnormality was initially detected, so an attempt was made to remotely open a time door from the inside. The moment the temporal handshake was requested, originating from the obelisks near the test site, a gravitational wave was shot to the exit-entry point, and from the ground, dark matter and energy flowed in abnormal concentrations," the analyst reported. "It all happened in a fifth of a second."
"... We are dealing with a highly advanced civilization; it could be a remnant from the Multiversal War," Judge Dox suggested.
"The Time-Keepers are all-knowing; if Miss Minutes hasn't informed us of their will, then this is a situation we are expected to resolve with our hands," Judge Ravonna Renslayer said.
"We need to be efficient. The continual existence of this zone of variation is a threat to the entire Sacred Timeline," Judge Gamble declared.
"Generals, if I may," the analyst respectfully interjected.
"Speak, Analyst B87," Judge Gamble said.
"Weaponry of mass destruction is a viable possibility," Analyst B87 suggested. "The cloaking field tethered between the two walls also works as a semi-adiabatic insulator. It regulates climate, weather, hydrography, geology, and wildlife. Entry seems to be regulated by cognition—"
"—Hence, we could bombard with weapons of mass destruction," Judge Gamble concluded. Analyst B87 nodded in affirmation.
"After neutralizing the threat within the walls, the final task would be removing the said walls to restore the Sacred Timeline," Judge Dox added.
"That may not be necessary," Judge Gamble interjected. "The walls, like the obelisks and the ring around the moon, are not interfering with the Sacred Timeline, as if they didn't exist. The problem will be fixing the damage after the detonations."
"With the appropriate reforestation tech from the 27th century, returning the isthmus to its expected glory should be doable before the first Spanish conquistadores make it to its beaches," Judge Ravonna Renslayer suggested optimistically.
"Next, we'll have to locate the origin of this zone of variation," Judge Gamble continued. "Pruning an entire advanced civilization; the logistics are already a nightmare."
"We'll know more after assessing the situation from the other side," Judge Dox said with a heavy sigh.
A day later, after opening two time doors outside the zone of variation—a door in front of each north and south entrance—two comet-like projectiles with a tail of orange warm light flew out at a speed measured in terms of c. {A/N: c = lightspeed}
The comet-like projectiles entered with tactical precision into the two tunnels. Due to the translucent nature of both walls and the light emitted by the two projectiles, the walls seemed to light up around the entry points.
Both projectiles struck true to their targets, and then, there was light.
The light ate at everything, with intensity so great that both walls lit up and the tunnels turned into flashlights, illuminating the northern and southern horizons' lengths entirely and going even beyond.
The ground shook, and even Christopher Columbus and his men, all the way in Mexico, felt the ground shake. The Mexica (Aztecs) assumed their gods were angry and decided to make some sacrifices to appease the deities.
"Was that a photon bomb, Grandfather? My eyes hurt," Mindee complained while rubbing her eyes softly. The flash was so sudden that her adaptability didn't get a chance to protect her vision.
"I don't know its name, but it was as if someone had trapped a solar flare in a containment unit, then released it while limiting the range of destruction of the solar wind with a magnetic field, so only the photons escaped while everything within the magnetic field was bombarded and eroded by electrons and protons," Aragorn explained, his All-seeing eyes locked on the still ongoing bright flashes.
"I don't know from which century that thing came, but I bet they took inspiration from Earth's magnetic field's interaction with solar wind," Mindee opened her eyes and blinked a few times before saying in a monotone, "I'm blind."
"Give it a sec, your regeneration is kicking in," Aragorn chuckled. Mindee's blindness reminded him of those fools who looked at eclipses after being told not to. "Do you think it was alright to leave it in the Duskaris' hands?"
"They were quite eager about fighting their first war as an intergalactic empire, and their arguments about independence and self-sufficiency from the divine were aptly delivered. Mother and I found it difficult to deny their wish," Mindee said. Her vision returned after blinking twice, and she immediately looked away from the still-shining explosions.
"But their actions are illogical from my point of view. They are luring the TVA inside their territory. Normally, that's not advised," Aragorn said.
The fortifications at the end of both tunnels were built only to pose as if they were making an effort to keep the TVA outside the Isthmus. In truth, blocking access via time doors, the entrances on both sides of the walls, and their passive stance had all been to lure them inside the zone of variation (the Isthmus).
"Ah, Grandfather, you haven't caught up with the briefing of the pre-war meeting, have you?" Mindee asked.
"No, sorry. I've been busy finishing some spells and tackling Gaea's separation from Earth," Aragorn sheepishly replied.
"It's not a problem, Grandfather. We haven't uploaded it to The System's general data cloud," Mindee shook her head, indicating that it wasn't a problem. "The kids want their tech and access to the TVA's database. So they are luring them inside to steal from them in one big operation.
"They want to build their own shielding systems for these types of incursions. They said that otherwise, they couldn't claim independence if you're the one shielding them from the time door incursions," Mindee said.
The Dukari were after divine independence, but if they were still so reliant on the Drachantheon Therion, as proved by Aragorn's Obelisks neutralizing the time doors, then it would never be true independence.
"Ah, they are after time-warping and manipulation tech," Aragorn's eyes flickered with curiosity. "Didn't I write in the Divinicom that only fools and immortals mess with time-space?"
"Don't worry, Grandfather. They are not after the time-traveling and future-controlling parts of the TVA's tech. They are after fool-proofing the Imperium from fools and immortals messing with time-space," Mindee assured.
"That's acceptable then, smart even," Aragorn nodded.
"They also have other secondary objectives, for example, gaining access to the void and the Null-Time Zone, and, obviously, testing their mettle in combat," Mindee added.
"How can they test their mettle in combat with these weaklings? The minutemen and hunters are not enhanced in any way," Aragorn asked.
"They plan to escalate this war and force the TVA to use variants from pruned timelines," Mindee said with a deadpan.
"... I don't remember raising these guys to be such a warmonger species," Aragorn commented, the bright flash finally subsiding.
"They may not be warmongers, exactly, but they are quite the expansionist bunch," Mindee replied. "Battle is just another stage for them to prove themselves."
With the end of Mindee's words, the result of both photonic explosions was revealed: two huge craters covered in ionized particles, lightning arcs crackling sporadically, lava instead of soil for the ground, fire spreading in wild abandon, with nothing but the nearby Obelisks and the walls surviving the explosions.
"In the spirit of independence," Aragorn murmured loud enough to reach Mindee's fox ears, "Do they have a solution to fix the damage the Isthmus will sustain during the war?"
"... No," Mindee said after a moment of silence. She was holding her laughter back. She found it funny that Aragorn's first thought went to the destruction of the forests and not the fortifications. "They shamelessly declared that if they can't find a solution within the data they plan to steal, they'll have to rely on us."
"These crazy idiots are going to get my areas of preservation for the megafauna destroyed, and their backup plan is to have me fix it if they can't?" Aragorn replied with a deadpan.
"~Fufufufu!" Mindee chuckled while covering her mouth demurely with one of her tails.
"Unbelievable," Aragorn muttered.
Mindee and Aragorn stayed in the Obelisk, observing as, on the other side of the walls, the TVA set up camp and waited for the smoldering craters to cool down. On the fifth day, it rained. It was a midsummer rain, but after the explosions had destabilized the weather, it came not as a surprise. The rainwater flowed to the smouldering craters, and it boiled. This vapor accumulated in the atmosphere and then precipitated, only to boil again.
About a week later, instead of craters, the Isthmus now had two new lakes.
The TVA marched through the tunnels, and for the first time, they laid eyes on the world beyond the veil.
After a day, a new forward base had been constructed at each entry point. Normally, these were not matters the TVA concerned itself with. Aside from certain rebellious variants, the usual work of the minutemen and hunters didn't last longer than a few minutes. In and out—that was their modus operandi. But with their main advantage sealed, they had no choice but to resort to more 'antiquated' tactics.
War logistics and preparations aside, the day came when, from both large tunnels, fighter aircraft of the 25th century broke through.
The fighters, like a visage of hope in the hearts of the earthbound agents gazing at their flight, flew with certainty into the deeper parts of the zone of variation...
Yet, they were never seen again. No communication, radar was impossible—in fact, almost all manner of electromagnetic wave-based comms didn't work—and definitely no messages made it back, even from their tempads.
Psychological warfare had begun.
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{A/N:
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