"Hm? I thought I made it clear that I wanted us to be alone?" Said Erebus, looking at me, as I followed them up the tower.
"And do you think I care about what you want, Erebus?" I mainly followed them because I wanted to see his end myself.
"Haa… I should have known, you High humans never have any respect for gods, and I do not have the power to stop you now, so be my guest and see my end by yourself." He said as we reached the rooftop.
"It's the first time I've come up here, you know," said Erebus, scratching behind his earlobe.
"Just look at that view. There can't be a better one in the whole city, am I right?"
The night wind ruffled his jet-black hair. Even from his position at the center of Babel's rooftop, he could see much of the lamplit city beneath. Beneath those lamps stood the people of this fine city, eagerly awaiting his death.
"…I suppose I do have one, tiny complaint," he said at last, returning his gaze to us ahead of him. "Hermes, my old friend. Why are you here? Come to make sure I don't weasel my way out of this?"
"Something like that," the messenger god replied. "Sorry I couldn't leave you two alone, but hey, pretend I and Arin are not here, and you got exactly what you asked for." Under his watchful gaze, Erebus shrugged. Then Astrea silently approached him.
"It's just the four of us now," she said. "Everyone else is down there watching us."
In one hand, she held a silver straight sword modeled after a set of scales—a weapon that looked extremely out of place in the hands of one so benevolent as she.
"The blade of justice," said Erebus. "Of judgment. Why, it's almost as beautiful as you are." Then he spread his arms wide. "Do it," he said. "Make it quick. Don't think you get to torment me just because I'm evil. Even I feel pain…and I wouldn't be caught dead screaming like a woman."
He grinned. To the very end, he seemed to regard justice with a sense of smug superiority. But Astrea did not frown in anger, nor did she offer any judgmental words. She only regarded him for a moment, then spoke.
"First," she said, "I have something to ask you."
"Ohh, you do like to keep me on the edge, don't you? What could you possibly want to ask of someone as evil as me?" Erebus received his answer soon enough.
"What is justice?"
"...…"
That was the moment the dark god's smile vanished. His eyes flew wide, and he stared at Astrea with pure, unmitigated shock.
"Astrea! What are you…?" Hermes looked surprised. But I do not think it was weird for Astraea to ask him that question. Ever since the day he first appeared before Ryuu in the form of Eren, Erebus had been demanding to know the true form of justice. Even after his grand reveal, he still came to Ryuu, seeking her answer. He'd asked Lyra, Kaguya, and even Astrea herself about this concept, which lay at the far opposite end of the spectrum of morality.
But Astrea went on. "You kept asking us that question, didn't you? What is justice? How far does it go? And if we know, then we should prove it to you." She took a pause. "It's almost as if," said Astrea, "you were guiding us. At least, that's how I saw it."
"...…"
"And now your work is done."
Erebus remained silent and expressionless as Astrea spoke.
"Because you have your answer. You've seen them fight. You've seen them rise." At last, Erebus gave a twisted grin.
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Astrea."
"Oh, no, Erebus. You're not talking your way out of this one, I'm afraid." Astrea smiled sweetly. "We can always do this down there, in front of all those people, if you prefer?"
"…Are you really a goddess of justice?" Erebus sighed. "Because right now, you seem more like a hunter, like that Artemis." Astrea's threats caused Erebus to wear a frown for the first time.
"That's rude to her," Astrea said, still smiling. "She's far more innocent and pure than I am."
"I think you're both probably equally bad," said Hermes, off to one side.
A bead of sweat worked its way down Erebus's temple, and he let out a resigned sigh. "I should have known you wouldn't let me keep my dignity."
"Tell me, Erebus. As the goddess of justice, I would like to hear what you think justice is." Seconds passed. The wind blew. Beneath a sea of stars, Erebus opened his eyes.
"…You told me there was no such thing as absolute justice."
"Yes, I did."
"I don't think that's right, Astrea. In fact, I think I see it now." Erebus looked her straight in the eye. "Now that I have stood for evil, I think I finally understand."
"Understand what?" Astrea asked.
"Justice," said Erebus, "is a dream."
"Our children come up with the funniest ideas. Take the Trolley Problem, for instance." Erebus began speaking of the decision he had once presented to Ryuu. "If you don't pull the switch, you're letting five people die. If you do, you're killing one. A simple choice that they believe forms the basis of all morality, ethics, and justice."
"...…"
"But I don't think they're right. I don't think that's what justice is at all," he went on. "Justice is not simply to choose. It is to take."
"To take?"
"Yes. To see beyond two choices. To produce a third. To birth a million answers, and pluck from them a single one." The dark god nodded. "Justice is to ignore the rules, to defy norms. To make the impossible possible. Sweep the scales aside. Whatever works."
"Erebus…" Hermes spoke his old friend's name with a surprised yet sorrowful tone.
"That is what mortals call justice…and what we call heroism."
That was Erebus's answer.
"And that was your true goal, all along?" asked Astrea.
"Heh, so you already figured it out, huh?"
Then Hermes spoke, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him.
"Erebus," he said. "We may not have gotten along too well up in heaven, but I knew one thing for certain: even as the god of the underworld, you never liked seeing mortals die."
I find that hard to believe. I obsereved standing by the side as the three gods convesed.
Erebus turned his head to look at the battered and scarred city below. "I wanted an answer," he said. "A sign to show this world which way to go."
"Erebus…"
"I wanted to see the light of our children, of a people who keep on chasing their dreams, no matter what hardships await. I wanted to see the heroes this world needs."
"And that is why you chose evil," Astrea said.
"Was there no other way, Erebus?"
"I'm afraid not, Hermes. You know that as well as I. Zeus and Hera are gone, and in spite of the covenant, the promised time fast approaches. Time will not wait for us. The hands of the clock keep on moving."
Promised time? Covenant? I wanted to ask, but the time did not seem right for that.
Hermes voiced no objection, but looked down at the ground.
"Perhaps Lion didn't find her answer in the end. Perhaps none of them did. But that's okay. It's still okay."
"...…"
"Because I believe the light of hope awaits them at the end of their journey. And once they find it…I have no doubt they'll pass it on."
"You were right, Astrea. I've caused a lot of trouble. In the end, that's all I wanted." He shot them one last mischievous smile.
"…You sent countless lives up to heaven. You selected your champions and presented them with trials. You transformed good and evil into a foundation for this city's future." Astrea calmly listed off the god's crimes. "That was your will," she said at last. "That was your justice."
Erebus only grinned. "That wasn't justice," he said. "Like I said, justice is a dream. This was nothing more than the whims of a capricious god. There's a name for that, and it's evil."
"Is that so? Then, as the goddess of justice, allow me to pass my verdict." Astrea took up her sword of judgment and, without compassion or mercy, laid the dark god's heart bare.
"You," she said, "are a necessary evil, not absolute evil."
"You are a stepping stone that will raise our children toward heights they might never reach. You are the shadows that work alone, reviled by all. Our children may never understand you, the other gods may mock you…But I will never forget your sins." The goddess's voice was solemn as she enumerated the dark god's offenses.
"…You're ruthless, you are," said Erebus with a grin. "I wanted to go out like a badass, and here you are making me sound like a fool."
"I'm afraid I must have missed the part where that was my problem."
"Heh. Yeah… You got that right, at least." Erebus couldn't help but laugh, seeing the sweet smile on Astrea's lips. "I'll say it again: You're a fine woman, Astrea. I wouldn't mind waking up next to a goddess like you."
"Well, I would mind, Erebus. You're far too contrary for my tastes."
"Ha-ha… Damn, you're really gonna do me dirty like that, huh?"
"…Hermes," he sang. "This is why I asked Astrea to bring me up here. Don't go blabbing to others about what you saw here, all right? You, too, High Human," he said, looking at me.
"That's for me to decide, Erebus." Erebus could only sigh at my continued rebellion.
He sure is demanding for someone who brought so much destruction.
"End it, Astrea. For real, this time." He lifted his arms gently, welcoming her sword in his chest. Astrea closed her eyes. Not to doubt or reconsider what she must do, but merely to grant a moment of calm.
"Just tell me one last thing," she said, looking back into his eyes. There was no good and evil now—just one god speaking to another. "Do you love this world?"
A shooting star raced across the sky. The night wind whistled. Erebus watched it all, as the breath of the world rustled his jet-black hair. Then he turned his back on it all and smiled. "Of course I do, Astrea."
"I love all our children."
And Erebus turned into a pillar of light. I backed off slightly as I do not want to be caught up in this light beam, which will no doubt harm me, if not kill me.
"That's some mad love," I said quietly, looking at the light piercing the clouds, brightening the night sky.
.
.
.
.
.
After that, all the evilius forces went into hiding, most likely planning their next move. But I was far too tired to play this game, so I made a decision.
"Are you sure this information is correct, Lulune?" I asked the Chienthrope girl.
"Yes, I had to do a lot of digging to get this information, you know." We were standing in an alley, I was wearing a normal black cloak, which helped in blend in the night.
"Don't worry, like I said, I will compensate you fully for that," I said, getting ready to leave.
"But isn't it tiring to do it alone night after night? And are you sure you don't want to let them know about it?" Lulune asked, referring to the raids I am doing on the remnants of Evilius.
"Yeah, the remaining ones are just some roaches. They do not need to put their hand in this mud. And besides, if we move in large numbers, then they will get suspicious. And most of all, they are likely not on their guard right now, since everyone is busy with the rebuilding."
I told her my reasoning and jumped at a building, making my way to one of the hideouts.