During rush hour, the park was busy — everyone oblivious to the chaos in the air, indifferent to the more than 157,000 deaths recorded throughout Aija, most of them in New Tokyo.
On the contrary, they just kept going, living their lives as if nothing was happening. Right or wrong?
Then again, at this point, what good would more protests and more chaos do? The cowards had already said no, and the brave had already raised their flags.
"Halyna Boyko, from the frozen lands of Regnum — by the name, were you from Ukralia?" Milk asked after studying the striking young woman.
He had to look up, as tall as she was, while resting his hands on Kwawe's shoulders behind him like a bodyguard.
"You're almost as tall as Mr. Kwawe, that brute I mentioned..." he added, trying to be friendly.
"Oh, that! Were you from there too?" she asked, looking him up and down, seeming a little thrown off.
He wore a loose V-neck shirt that fit his slim frame well and shorts that stopped just above the knee.
"Sir or madam? Ehr… and you, Mr. Kwawe, were you from Regnum too?"
"I'm from Shamo. Me and the big guy… Well, let's get straight to the point, shall we?" Kwawe replied, sitting on a bench by the park's lake, ignoring her question entirely.
The big man just nodded, his hands buried deep in his pockets.
"Alright, ehr… so, he's not talking?" she asked, sitting next to Milk and watching them from the side.
"He drank all night, his throat's shot. Anyway, we discussed part of our plan over the phone — not everything, but the gist of it…"
"I see, well… yeah… I get it, we're going to change everything, but it's all for peace, right?" she asked with a half-mocking tone.
"Yeah… the story is violent, but the ideals… they're peaceful. It's impossible to separate the two. Since the first man killed, death's been part of every change… look at the war to unify Aija, the struggle for Regnum's empire, or the genocide in Shamo — all events carried out in the name of peace, all drenched in blood, but in the end…" he said, letting out a sigh.
"Nothing changed…"
"Nothing! And it'll stay that way. Those in power don't care about those below, and those below don't have the strength or time to stop the machine that crushes them over and over…"
"The train paradox — the cargo matters more than whoever's tied to the tracks… so the train never stops… NEVER!"
"Exactly!"
"But what can we do?" she challenged him. "Will it be us against the world? That always goes wrong…"
"Us?" He was satisfied to hear it. "Well, like I said, we want to break that cycle. No more kingdoms, orders, or empires! Not in this world… We want to get ahead of it, to fight evil before it's born. In other words, we're going to erase sin and everything it brings! So yeah, it's a war against the world!"
"Sin… A world where evil is never born? That sounds a bit unreal, doesn't it? Unless we can control time… can we?"
Not even those who control time can do that.
"No! But it's not so far-fetched. Not for Romero and Rasen, our leaders. We believe in Schattenstein's simulacrum, a world ruled by a single being who would separate the wheat from the chaff and allow only the good to live. He'd be strong enough to keep evil away and eternal enough to keep balance…"
"How? You're basing this on the idea of some human trash? Take away our free will?"
"Yes! But it's for the greater good. Think about the world we live in — a group driven only by ideas is weak, it gives in to time and fatigue… Peace is an unreal model, a single man can keep it only as long as he lives — if that!"
"Hmm…"
She crossed her legs then, clearly not buying into that trainwreck of words.
"With Rasen's innate ability, he can absorb energy. Romero believes that way, he can separate the world's neutral energy from its negative energy. To do that, we need to take our messiah to the next level. And that's where the hard part comes in — our plan is to create massive chaos, real chaos, with deaths, and in the end, make it possible for him!"
"Messiah? So you're basically a cult?"
"Not exactly, but close enough. He's our best shot, and like it or not, there's not much reason to say no. Look at the world around you — we live hoping for a final judgment drawn up by men. How unreal is what we want? It only sounds insane. Maybe you still see the world through a child's eyes, huh?"
"Maybe… you know, I do see it unrealistically, yeah… I don't know, I wanted a good future, but the bitter taste in my mouth doesn't make me doubt. A year in the order already made me wonder — why do we only clean up the mess? Why don't we end the evil?" she said, glancing at the people walking by — a woman leading a dog while a homeless man was ignored by every passerby. "The answer is like a gunshot — there's no way. If I move my hand, kill everyone at the top, it doesn't end, it just gets worse!" There was a disappointment in her eyes that no light could fill.
"Exactly. That's why I think you're perfect for our group, don't you think?"
At that moment, silence.
Eternally alone — that's how she felt, in that never-belonging feeling.
She wished everyone held noble ideals in their minds. But there was none of that in humans or exorcists… so…
"I think… actually, I was already part of your group when I saw the announcement. I don't know if I'll live longer than I would as just an exorcist, but I know I won't live like a worm, hiding in society — that much I know!" she said with a smile, now watching the geese on the water.
Milk let out a relieved smile. He'd expected it to be hard, but she was already halfway in, led by her own personal disappointment that was written all over her face, even if it wasn't obvious.
And he knew that bringing her into the group would be a huge step toward reaching their goal. But he also understood the gravity of the ideas they were tossing around. The mission they'd embraced was nothing less than a revolution against the very foundations of society.
He looked around, watching the people in the park, unaware of the intense conversation that had just taken place. It was like they were in parallel universes, where their worries and ideals never crossed paths. But he knew that sooner or later, the consequences of their choices would become clear to everyone.
Well, while they were aware of the risks, the consequences, the chaos.
Others… servants of the abyss.
They stood in a moment marked by an atmosphere heavy with calm and mystery.
Two kings of the abyss.
And while Leviel rose from the churning waters, in his scaly, wild form, the demon before him radiated a majestic, shadowy presence, dressed in garments fit for a monarch.
"Leviel, you're late, brother…" he said, his voice echoing as he watched his companion emerge.
"Heh! Heh! Not that late!"
"Oh? Two hours."
"I went down to the deepest parts of the abyss and back — how could I not be late?" Leviel shot back, standing tall with a confident expression, even though he was slightly shorter than his brother. His blue hair, wet from the sea, fell over his face as he readied himself for the conversation ahead.
"Asmael already told you what we're doing, right?"
"What's the plan?"
Clearly, he didn't know, nor did he care to pretend.
"Death to the celestials! He did mention it'll be a shot in the dark. From this moment on, there are no branches of time or space — it'll all depend on our effort and luck. Are you ready?" he asked, his eyes studying the golden rings on his own hands.
The greed of being the most avaricious of all abyssal beings.
"Hehe… I'm always ready, Mael. I want to see if that old man's prophecy is true!" Leviel declared, beating his chest with determination, splashing water around him.
"Old man?" Mael asked, brushing off his suit, slightly annoyed. Just that suit alone was worth a fleet of luxury cars.
"Yeah… a senile crab who lives on my beach…" he answered with a mocking grin.
"Idiot…" Mael muttered, stepping away. "What a mood… huh!?" he added, turning to face the horizon, watching the wind whip through the treetops.
Despite the distance, their presence reverberated all the way to the capital, announcing that something sinister was about to happen.