Chapter Text
Epimenides. Thales. Nemesis. Crest of Flames. Goddess. Partaking in Divine Blood. Agartha. Lifeless machinery.
Time bleeding, soaking into the fabric of existence. A fluid — draining out, flowing and shifting in a natural direction, yet unpredictably diverted with artificial interference. A ripple sent, creating new realities.
Time cracking, breaking the boundaries of experience. A wall — shattering before the eyes of a select few. Different images cascade, rewind, reweave.
The way things should be. A woman in red and gold. Goddess by her side. A burning city with the Immaculate One. Abdicated throne. Daughter, Adelaide.
They way things could be. A woman in red and silver. Unwitting Agarthan vessel by her side, though more distant. Demon comes later. War unfinished.
Another break in time. Nemesis wins. Seiros slain in Tailtean Plains. A world of technology. Metal and concrete spires ruled by shadows — by Thales. Nemesis wields the throne. One thousand years of uncompromised technological evolution.
Time ever at the hands of the Goddess. Vessel wakes. Divine Pulse. Two sets of memories. Questions. Find answers. Power of the divine — not enough to win. Grip of shadows too interwoven into daily living. Find the flames of revolution.
Enbarr Palace is nothing like it had been in the past. The old structure had long since been torn down in the wake of Nemesis’ new world. His fortress is, understandably, a massive metallic structure reinforced with the most advanced defenses which had undergone constant revisions over the last millennium. The megastructure was built to survive an onslaught from the most advanced weaponry and the largest armies. Ironically enough, the Ashen Demon would’ve had a harder time breaking in if she did attempt to lead in an army.
Instead, she operates in her old way – an ex-mercenary tearing through enemy forces. Slipping into the palace was easy enough with her custom assets. Her armor is a blend of flexible plated alloys, voice-distorting mask and helm, and a hooded tri-weave cape. The armor sports mild nanotech, which redirects the energy of most impacts. The Demon refused to stop the enhancements there, charming the armor set with illegal magics made to boost its durability and energy redirective properties. Though tonight, her custom-made personal cloaking unit did most of the heavy lifting. Normally, such technology only tricks the naked eye. However, the Demon finally managed to track down and “acquire” a more advanced, experimental device kept under tight lock-and-key in an Agarthan facility prior to this mission. She made sure to burn the research and destroy the facility once she accomplished her mission. Wouldn’t want her true enemies to have yet another advantage.
Agartha, she thinks, an ancient civilization which holds the whole world in its hands. Yet no one knows of its existence. Even now, they’re just force-fed propaganda of the King of Liberation’s total authority. As if that barbarian could actually rule anything effectively, especially with such advanced technology at play.
Light subtly bends around her invisible figure as she slips through doorways, airshafts, and windows. Unfortunately, the deeper into the facility she goes, the tighter its security becomes. She finds herself in front of a massive set of blast doors. No panels to disrupt. No ducts to sneak through. This kind of door requires multiple sets of pass codes to open. And anyone with those codes is most certainly on the other side, especially at this time of night.
I guess my opportunities for perfect stealth have run out.
The Ashen Demon places both of her hands on the airtight seam of the entrance. Pressing inward, her fingers crinkle the durasteel. With each hand, she pushes outward, forcing the doors apart. Three-foot-thick metal grinds along the floor, creating a person-sized entrance for the merc. One advantage to having lived a double past is the amalgamation of her powers. Being a veritable demigod was one thing, but thanks to whatever changed the past, she’s now a demigod with genetic modifications and two lifetimes of training and experience. Though she doesn’t know why she recalls her old past, or has her old powers, she’s sure it’s linked to the Divine Pulse. Curiously enough, the Pulse is the one power she hasn’t managed to retain in this new world.
Whatever screwed up the timeline made damn sure I wouldn’t be able to make any more historical changes.
Predictably, the damage she caused trips a sensor as alarms scream throughout the facility. She won’t have much time until she’s swarmed, so she sprints down the metallic hallway. This world will see enough bloodshed as it is, and she doesn’t want to add anymore with unnecessary confrontations. Each set of blast doors peels just as easily as the last as she makes her way to the library. Thankfully, only small squads of imperial enforcers manage to scramble themselves in the way of her objective. These enforcers wear predictable riot control gear — black, padded body armor with several pouches, full face masks, dark helmets, and heavy weapons. The insignia of the Empire, the Crest of Flames, is patched into their shoulders. Without a proper visual on the Demon, she shoves past them, leaving them confused and terrified.
For her, it’s only a short sprint until she reaches the enforced entrance to Enbarr Palace’s data room. The palace’s “library”, the Demon quickly discovered, has a massive reputation in Fodlan’s underworld as a nexus for all sorts of unsavory, unimaginable secrets. Many speculate the nature of what Enbarr’s data servers hide: WMD schematics, human experimentation, info on historical revisions, persons of interest — the list is endless. And all of it is likely to be true. However, the Demon only invades the library for one purpose.
Dammit, Byleth curses internally. The public library near her apartment wasn’t giving her any better information than a quick search on the internet. All she finds are “educational” documents and articles on a bloodbath. Every source is just as vague as the last; “Hresvelg Family Executed for Treason” each entry reads. The information never gives specifics beyond claims that the governor of the Adrestian territory planned revolt, and that his family was executed, leaving no survivors. Underworld sources were slightly more specific, asserting that it was actually a scheme by the Aegir family to rise to prominence by framing Governor Ionius IX in a coordinated scheme with imperial officials. “The Insurrection of the Seven” they called it. Some things don’t appear to change across histories, Byleth mentally notes. Her sources confirmed that only one place would have the full truth: Enbarr Palace Library.
The Ashen Demon crumples the door to the library and races to the nearest server. She plugs in a small drive pulled from her modest utility belt. The drive tears through fire walls, copying and downloading data quickly enough, but that doesn’t stop the jitters she feels as she frantically searches for documents relating to the Hresvelgs. A report on the members of the family pops up. As she guessed, each member is classified as “deceased”, except for one. Edelgard von Hresvelg — “Missing: Presumed Deceased”. The rabbit hole leads her to notes and security footage of experiments filed under the project codename “Burn the Gods”. She can guess well enough what that entails, so she doesn’t bother watching the footage. Still, its enough to reassure her of her instinct: Edelgard is alive and out there somewhere. The drive bleeps, letting the Demon know the copy is finished. She removes the device and turns to leave.
Only she’s interrupted by a sudden jolt of energies – a mix of an emp and some form of dark magic. Though the suit deflects the damage (thankfully also shielding the drive in her utility belt), the burst is enough to short out her cloaking unit. She stumbles back as the bending light morphs into her full form. She wears nimble, plated body armor with a smooth, full-faced helmet. Her hood weaves into the shoulder plating, extending back out into her heavy cape. The only openings on her suit are for her eyes and nostrils. Everything is ash colored, naturally.
“There’s the little rat in our system!” a voice booms out from the second story of the library.
The Demon looks up to see a team of what she can only describe as tech-adorned mages dressed in all black. She hadn’t expected Nemesis to be in Adrestia this month, let alone standing proudly in the center of the squad above her, decked out in familiar leathery brown armor. Though there are some metal plates and flickering lights woven into his outfit. She wonders if the bits of tech are just for show or are somehow related to his unholy lifespan. His eyes glare with a wrathful black and red menace, indicating that whatever humanity he had once was long gone.
“Your cloaking was suspiciously advanced,” he continues. “Luckily, my court mages were able to trace you by your magic signature. Tell me, how did you come by the ancient arts? Why break into our servers? Do you work with anyone? Answer quickly, and I give my word that your death will be relatively quick and painless. We won’t even torture you for information.”
The monster grimaces before her as she stands in silence. After a moment, she responds.
“Do you believe in hell?” her distorted voice rings out through the library – deep, pseudo-robotic, and slightly garbled, as though spoken through an old-fashioned communicator.
“Ha!” he bellows. “You’re trying to intimidate me? Well, at least you’ll amuse me before I mangle your corpse.”
The Ashen Demon doesn’t give him time for further boasting as she quickly draws her custom weapon from her belt: Lady-at-Midnight. It’s a jet-black short sword with one straight edge, one curved. The curved end is lined with an ethereal blue-lavender light, quite unlike the orange glows associated with other vibro-weapons. She flicks the blade in the direction of the second-floor balcony as it extends with a whip-like chord – much like her old Creator Sword – severing through the mages and cleaving the structure. Nemesis jumps to avoid the blade, landing on the damaged balcony, which collapses and sends him careening to the floor.
He stands up, brushing the debris off him with a chuckle, “It seems you’ve modeled your weapon after mine. How flattering. But nothing matches the power of the original.”
The hulking man draws this world’s Creator Sword dramatically, no doubt intended to frighten the Demon. He whips the sword in her direction, though she swiftly dodges his blows. She reads his moves easily as, unbeknownst to him, she’s already had this fight in the old world. The Demon quickly closes the distance, slashing towards Nemesis and putting him on the back foot as he shifts to a more serious attitude.
He grins, “I suppose I shouldn’t have underestimated you, seeing as how you were able to invade my palace so easily. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Her robotic, monotone voice responds, “You won’t be making any more mistakes at all.”
She swings her blade at him, which he easily catches on the jagged ends of his sword. Before he lets out another condescending quip, the Demon kicks his oversized chest. Normally, he’d expect an opponent so much smaller than him to leave little physical damage with their melee blows. This time, the wind leaves his lungs as he flies through three data shelves. Sparks fly as he pulls himself back to his feet.
Hw whips the Creator Sword to the Demon who merely raises her left arm. The blade catches around her forearm, searing through her armor and burning her skin. The jagged end of the blade’s separated sections dig into her flesh. Still, the damage is mostly surface level and will heal in only a day or two. She takes some satisfaction in the way Nemesis’ face falls in what must’ve been his first time feeling terror in a thousand years. She drops the sword in her right hand and reaches up, grabbing the extended Creator Sword. The magic energy of the blade burns through the glove on her gauntlet, superficially marring her skin. Forcing herself through the pain, she pulls on the sword. Then she reaches with her left hand, grabbing the magic chord. Nemesis attempts to retract the blade, fiercely yanking on his end. The Ashen Demon simply continues to pull on the blade, drawing the false king towards her as his boots scrap against the floor.
“‘God-Emperor’ is what they call you,” she taunts. “But you are a pretender. Let me show you what a real god can do.”
Nemesis frantically drops the hilt of the divine blade and attempts to flee. The Demon drops the rest of the sword and jumps at him, clearing a sixteen-foot distance and pining him against the wall. She throws her fist into his nose, shattering it and knocking out his front teeth. The man retaliates by punching her helmet, yet for all his ferocious strength, he only manages to break three of his fingers on contact. The Demon kicks his shin, shattering the bone with a crunchy squelch.
“Annoying liar,” she huffs, throwing him backwards.
Nemesis lands by his Creator Sword, shakily grabbing it in a final bid to defend himself.
“I suppose this saves me the trouble of having to end you later,” the Demon speaks.
“Go ahead. Kill me,” he chortles. “This all goes far deeper than me. You won’t change a damn thing.”
“You speak of your Agarthan allies,” she says.
He smirks, “So you know about them? It doesn’t matter if you kill me. It doesn’t even matter if you kill them. We created an empire that spans the globe! Our roots go far deeper than some heads of state. And even if you wipe us all out, then what? Billions of people depend on the order we bring! Or perhaps collapsing society in a mass power vacuum is your plan?”
Shit. He’s right. If she kills him, she’ll only succeed in destabilizing the whole damn planet. This was what Edelgard was for. That’s all the more reason why I need to find her. Seeing her hesitation, Nemesis laughs.
“Ignorant fool!” he mocks.
She ignores his jab and calmly collects her weapon off the ground. I’ll have to rethink this whole damn thing. Well, until I find Edelgard, I’ll at least have plenty of time to study everything on this drive. Maybe it’ll hold clues to what exactly happened to cause the change in this world’s history. She walks out of the library, leaving Nemesis in a humiliated heap. The monster grits his teeth to the sound of the Ashen Demon clashing through his enforcers as medics and troops flood into the room to tend to him.