With the necessary explanation of the world's lore out of the way, the Bishop began to explain what Terminus was.
"I'll omit the earlier details for the sake of time, but essentially, Terminus is a failed world."
Rue nodded, following along.
"But it's not failed in the way you might think. The world is perfectly established in almost all regards, and its size is similar to our own world, albeit larger. The reason why it's classified as a failed world would be due to the impenetrable elliptical dome that surrounds the entirety of the world."
"Its presence restricts all exit of anything from within, yet strangely, with enough force, one can still breach the dome's membrane and enter from outside."
The Bishop leaned back into his manifested chrome rocking chair. "The majority of the world's inhabitants are actually the descendants of those who hail from Altheria."
Rue's brow jumped up in surprise.
"What do you mean?" Rue asked, leaning against the edge of his seat.
"Now let me plant a seed of doubt in your mind—has it struck you as odd that our world, despite its impossibly vast population, only yields one or two publicly known unparalleled geniuses every few hundred years?"
Nipping his lip in concentration, he thought about the question. Rue's eyes suddenly widened.
Noticing the inquisitor's expression, the Bishop smirked and nodded.
"It seems you've figured it out." He paused, a small smile playing on his face. "Your hunch is correct."
"From what I've gathered so far, it seems the world is in a perpetual state of unbalance. The presence of so many Sovereigns only accounts toward the gradual destruction of our world's equilibrium."
"The weight of so many powerful presences strains the delicate balance of our reality."
"As to avoid the possibility of the world reaching this imbalance, those in power found it necessary to remove those with high potential, along with those who dictate the negative spectrum—for example, criminals. And from what I'm assuming, the removal of talented folks is due to future threat."
"And?" The Bishop pressed.
"They found a simple solution that ensures both the removal of their presence from the world, and any residue Will that escapes upon their Initial after their death."
"Somehow those in power created a method to send people into that Lovecraftian place."
"Sending them would not only remove the threat of their existence but also the possibility of someone being able to condense a similar Initial after feeling their escaped Will," Rue crudely expressed.
The Bishop sighed.
"So close, yet so far," he exclaimed. "But in essence, you're essentially right, so we don't have to dwell further."
"What did I miss?" Rue Asked
"Can't say." The Cardinal shrugged. "The treaty's restriction covers this as well."
"Ohh." He nodded, diverting his gaze toward the Artillery projection's ceiling.
What met his view was the eternal gaze of the EYE!
~~~
~~~
~~~
Back in the present Rue tussled his hand through his dreary hair.
This was so confusing.
"Terminus, huh?" he sneered. "I thought that old geezer was making shit up."
Releasing his hair, Rue tapped his chin.
Weathered by the past memory, Rue began to think over his life—more specifically, himself.
Why was he sent here?
"I thought the Church was going to protect me," he groaned. Feeling exasperated by this, Rue clicked his tongue.
"Fucking Pope." He rolled his eyes. "But I guess it makes sense," he muttered, scratching his temple.
"It was either harboring a person with an Initial related to the absolute Life spectrum, which would not only break the treaty but force the Church to enter war that would only burden them or the alternative, giving me up."
"While in the short term this was costly, in the long run it would save not only costs but manpower that would otherwise be lost to combat."
"I guess if you think about it like this, then resenting them would only be unreasonable." Rue bit his quivering lip. "But man, does it hurt." Rue forced down the emotion of grief before it could overwhelm him.
Raised like a dog, used as a hunting dog, and tossed aside when vet bills got too high.
Rue's expression wavered a little.
A little.
Phew…
"I should have foreseen it after the Bishop told me about Terminus and the truth of my Initial."
Gathering his tossed rucksack and belongings, Rue raised his body—along with his new burden.
He was alone in this world, and he hated that.
Glancing to his right, Rue saw Alex—the first native of Terminus he had met, if you excluded Ayami.
"Wait, now that I think about it," Rue gasped with a smile.
Without as much as a second thought, Rue commanded his Initial to flood his Will into his body.
His body's girth returned robust; his eyes melted with white liquid spilling from the sockets before quickly being replaced with his original set of heterochromatic eyes.
His jaw shattered, the bones making up his skull unfused and moved back into their original locations.
His legs frailed and shattered like glass, collapsing forward face first; his skull caved in from the impact.
After several minutes, Rue's body had morphed back into its original shape.
Laid on his own pile of gore, spilled entrails, bone, filth, and other bodily substances—Rue had regained his crafted body.
"I've regained my battle strength again, so I guess there's one positive thing about—"
"Wha-WHAT! — AHHH!!!"
Sharply cutting him off mid-speech was a loud octane shriek of terror.
What in the hell did I just witness!?? Alex thought in horror.
His eyes rolled over before he shortly passed out from overstimulation.
Falling onto the ground like his blue-haired comrade, Alex limply lay.
Deadpanned, Rue palmed his face before letting out a light chuckle.
"I guess I let the excitement get to my head, but who CARES!!" Rue boasted.
"I'm Rue not Azaroth!"
"It's Rue Revan, damnit!" he exclaimed toward the world.
After several seconds of excitement, Rue elevated his head several degrees, sensing a faint presence hovering near the outermost edge of his perception.
Washing his perception over the thing, he noticed that he couldn't discern any of the creature's features.
It was a black, indiscernible spot that he couldn't make out.
However, the black spot didn't move—it was just there, unmoving.
Was it watching him?
Furrowing his brow, Rue summoned his Initial.
Brandishing his silverine axe, he immediately flooded the weapon with his Will and [World View].
The weapon trembled from strain.
Rue's expression became hesitant, but he remained resolute.
'Whatever it is, it's stronger than me—that much is given from the overwhelming feeling my senses are posing. But what is it doing? Why are they intentionally allowing me to perceive them…?' He gulped.
'Are they taunting me?' Rue breathed deeply and calmed his riling emotions.
'Well, it was a shitty life, but like hell I'll grant them the pleasure of watching my fear. Well, if I'm going to die, I'd rather go out with a bang rather than falling into one of that bitch fate's ploys,' he thought with bated breath.