[center][color=red]Aboard the VSS Karamzina, Cero City Drydocks[/color][/center][hr] Even with the T'saraen aegisdome casting its amber light upon the world below, Rodion could feel the gaping jaw of the pitch black sky yawning over him. It had been three days since he had left Ziotea and the others to travel to Cero for his preliminary inspection of the arks-- three days since he had left the grey labyrinth of Magnagrad behind, free from the Seminary's temple roofs and myriad walls. The world itself, collared by the Gods as it was, finally lay open before him, and yet he still had not gotten used to the openness of it. The abyssal sky above all made him feel infinitesimally small. [i]Agaetys... [/i] There was so much he didn't know. For years, he was the brightest lantern of Warband Phoenix, the one with all the answers. He understood that the world was composed of a near infinite number of components. People, history, faith, the Gods, all of it fit together-- haphazardly--- but he understood the mechanisms of the world, and through the long rote years he had grown peaceful with the harmony of it. Now it was as if a gear had gotten loose somewhere in the machinery. Things didn't make sense anymore. He felt a shiver in his bare arms. The porthole in his quarters aboard the Karamzina allowed him a view of the sprawl of ice that surrounded the drydocks. The frost shelf had been turned to slush for some distance beyond the Forge, allowing the Karamzina and the Grace to submerge beneath the ice. This allowed the engineers to perform much-needed stress tests to their Hearth Systems in preparation for the long journey ahead. Rodion had commanded that such a stress test be performed under his supervision-- a request that Tsukasa had acquiesced to, as was his duty, but did so with a hint of consternation. Rodion could see it on the old engineer's face. But it had to be done. Rodion had to know how far the engine could be pushed. Deva's voice came in through the small radio in Rodion's ear. "Are you okay?" she asked in a sleep-deprived voice. It was strange hearing someone that wasn't Ziotea or Ragnar ask him that. He remained quiet, staring down at the piece of miserable-looking bread in his hands. His heart felt heavy. He still didn't know if he truly believed what he had just seen. "I don't know," he answered. "It's... [i]weird[/i], I know. My dad and I are here for you if you need anything." Rodion leaned back in his chair. Trying to get comfortable, but finding it impossible. "Thank you." [center]***[/center] The "temple", the strange name the ark's crew had given to the odd elongated engine chamber of the Karamzina was quiet as Rodion made his way to the lift, where Head Engineer Amir Tsukasa and his daughter, Deva, waited. Below them, the hollow tower that housed the Karamzina's all-powerful engine stretched down some 200 feet and as the lift descended, the soft golden light of the URA generator began to radiate up from the gloomy abyss. This tower, which hung from the Karamzina's prow, would fold backwards and unto the belly of the ark when the craft was moving. According to Tsukasa, the "temple" was a late addition to the ark, its form factor necessary due to the URA's propensity to interfere with other systems. The old engineer had likened the URA to a glorious comet, with the Karamzina being a sleigh strapped to it, trailing behind. Rodion didn't quite understand the metaphor. He would have his answers soon enough however. When the lift had touched down at the base of the temple, Rodion could not look directly at it. The pale white sphere floating motionless before him was like something out of scripture. It did not look like a mechanical construct, but something else entirely. Organic, almost beautiful in a sense. "Okay, dad. Tell him everything," Deva said suddenly. Whatever was happening, Rodion wasn't expecting it. But he was glad when Tsukasa stepped forward and did as his daughter told him. "Your Reverence, before I begin. I must inform you that the rest of the crew are not privy to this information, and well, it is in their best interest to--" "Tell me what I need to know." Tsukasa sighed, and turned to face the URA. Its light bathed him in a golden halo, his form growing dark and hazy as the radiance flowed over him. He took a deep breath. "The URA was unearthed two decades ago by the T'saraen research garrison in Lanostre," the engineer began. A thousand questions immediately blossomed within Rodion's mind, but one burned brighter than any other. "The Black Glacier--" "Indeed. That is where it was found." Tsukasa removed his glasses, staring at Rodion with eyes of the same lightning blue shade. "During a roundabout excursion deep into the depths, where the lowest fathoms of the Glacier lay buried amidst true earth, they chanced upon this great miracle. This lone pearl, embedded within the darkness." A strange machine found at the Black Glacier... That explained why he and no one else he knew had ever heard of this thing. From what he understood of the garrison, they were loyal to Lanostre above all else, for their numbers were entirely comprised of the half-blooded descendants of the legendary ten researchers who had dedicated their lives to unearthing the Glacier all those decades past. But if this supposedly all-powerful engine was discovered twenty years ago, why did the Lanostrans not use it during the war? Tsukasa seemed to be reading the young machinist's expression. "... Yes, this arcane machine was discovered shortly before the Lanostran war first broke out. We know not why the warriors of the Trident didn't use its incredible properties to aid them during their war effort, for it would have helped turn the tide, but alas, for whatever reason, they locked it away. All that is known by the Cero research corps is that the engine was discovered in a secret vault within the royal palace at Sapharan by Father Gregoroth, the Great Bear. He then had it removed and--" "-- Handed it over to MUSE, for your people to poke and prod," Rodion interrupted. It would make sense that Varya had stolen the machine, but, why keep it a secret then? He supposed it didn't matter. There were more important details to uncover and he was growing impatient. "Tell me, what did the great minds of T'sarae discover during these twenty years of research?" "To begin with, the Faith decreed the object to be nonexistent, a shadow project. None were to know of its existence in Cero save the small council of researchers gifted with the task of uncovering its secrets. The first discovery, and perhaps the most important, occurred immediately after the object was transported to to the research team by top-level Varyan priests. Strangely enough, the researchers, all T'saraen of course, began to hear... sounds coming from the object. Sounds that the Varyan priests could not." [i]It spoke to them[/i]... Suddenly he remembered. The Black Glacier... It also spoke to the original Ten Researchers. If the legends were to be believed, it spoke one word to them repeatedly. [i]Hate. Hate. Hate.[/i] It was much the same this time, but with Varyans present. Why could they not hear the machine? "Ura." Rodion's eyes flashed to Tsukasa's. "That's what it said. Ura. The word was like the wind, flowing through their minds. Apparently, they found it calming. Nothing like the cold terror that the Ten Researchers felt when the Glacier first spoke to them." "Tell me. Why could only the researchers hear the object's voice?" "Because of who they were, and what the object actually was. Or, to cut to the matter of things, where we came from. Machine and T'saraen both." Rodion was unsure where Tsukasa was going, but he found himself completely fascinated. "Think back to the Original Ten. They abandoned their homes, their families-- to journey into a foreign land in an attempt to uncover the Glacier's secrets. Was it all just mere scientific curiosity? No. In actuality, it was more than that." Rodion remained silent, his mind churning with questions. "There is an age old theory proclaiming the possibility of certain Remnants sharing... deeper connections with one another. For example, Lady Lanostre and the Right Hand that wielded Her. Or Omestris and whatever lost Remnant He held in His grasp. Now, think of our Lord, T'sarae. His was the Brain of the Ice Titan, the Frozen God's ingenuity and imagination, and for time immemorial our Lord has erected wonders upon this world owing to His origin. But there is one thing our Lord does not do. He does not look upon the past, or view this world in memory." "What are you saying?" "Think on it, Reverence. What is the most precious thing to you?" [i]Her.[/i] "All of our glories, our loves and losses. Our history. We would be nothing without those things-- without our memories. Lord T'sarae has only ever looked forward, to the building of a better world. Never backward. It as as if the very concept was missing from him." "I don't understand," Rodion spoke. It was the first time he had spoken those words in many years. "The Black Glacier has long been thought to be lesser than a Remnant, a jagged shard, imperfect and powerless. But we were wrong. It [i]is[/i] a Remnant. A near dead one, abandoned to the ages by its brethren. So inconsequential to this land and its greater history that it has only existed as a battleground to sharpen the skills of Lanostre's children. But, we were wrong. Not only us, but the Gods themselves. For the Glacier holds immense power... and it [i]remembers[/i]." Suddenly, the pieces clicked together. "Lord T'sarae and the Glacier, or, [i]Agaetys[/i], as He is known in the dark corners of MUSE, are of literally, one mind. That, Reverence, is the connection between we T'saraens and the Remnant of Memories. That is why, when He speaks, we listen." The Black Glacier... [i]Agaetys[/i]. A Remnant. One composed of the Titan's [i]memories[/i]. Could such a thing be possible? [i]Hate. Hate. Hate.[/i] It.. No, [i]He[/i] has been speaking those words for eons. He rages within his prison, bringing into the world misshapen demons. His blood pulses an angry crimson, poisoning the ice around Him. If the Glacier wasn't a Remnant, it certainly had the temperament of one. Suddenly, a harrowing thought flashed in his head. If this really was a so-called Remnant of Memories, is He remembering the last moments of the Ice Titan? Is He... reliving His own death over and over and over? Rodion took a deep breath and pushed the vision aside. There were more important questions he needed answers to. "This is... quite the theory, Tsukasa, but is it just that? A theory?" "No," the engineer responsed, his voice lowering to a feint whisper. Tsukasa reached into his pocket and brought out a vial filled with golden ether. Rodion was intensely familiar with Omestrian ether, and it looked like such to his eyes. But as Tsukasa raised the vial closer to them, Rodion's eyes widened. The ghostly liquid within the vial was the same elemental gold of the quintessance that flowed within Omestrian blood, but there were tiny specks of crimson light within it. Suddenly, Tsukasa gave the vial a shake, and the contents within it turned a brilliant amber. It wasn't just the color that changed though, it was the feeling of the ether as well. Whatever was inside that vial was unlike anything Rodion had ever sensed before. "What is it?" "We call it Agaetian ether. For it comes directly from [i]it[/i]," Tsukasa answered, pointing at the glowing sphere. "You called it Omestrian ether before." "Please excuse the half-lie, Reverence. The crew knows not of the URA's true origins, thus that is the classification we use in their company. But, to be fair, calling it Omestrian ether isn't actually far from the truth. The two are incredibly similar in properties, save for a number of dynamic differences. We will explore the finer details later, but I am certain you and and the rest of Warband Phoenix will be amazed by what this ether can do." "Very well, but... how? You say it comes from the URA, the engine of this ark. How can this machine power the entire Karamzina while being able to expell ether at the same time? Where is its power source? Its fuel? Such a thing shouldn't be possible." Head Engineer Amir Tsukasa smiled then, turning to face the glowing sphere. "Reverence, let me begin by saying that, as an engineer, I scarcely can believe what the URA is capable of, but day in and day out my understanding of the world is shattered by it. The URA is a miracle, and as I said earlier, it will one day change the world." Rodion allowed himself to breathe for a moment. He tried desperately to grasp onto any answers that his mind could spit out, but he could not. "Do you wonder how MUSE came up with the theory of the Black Glacier's true nature? It was the URA that cemented that belief." "What are you talking about?" Tsukasa ignored him and stepped closer to the floating sphere. After a moment, Rodion joined him. "Look upon it. And remember." "What? Remember? I don't--" "You will." Rodion stood there awkwardly for a few moments. He stole a glance at Tsukasa, who was gazing into the sphere with a sad smile. Something in the engineer's words was pure, as if it came straight from the old man's soul. He had spoken to Rodion with a strange familial warmth, as if the young man wasn't an inquisitor of the Faith, but some long lost grandson. The warmth in Tsukasa's words. It was disarming. Rodion turned and gazed into the sphere. The gold light swam into the deep azure of his eyes, the radiance brightening them a cool cyan. The unstaunched light was bleeding over everything, and soon it was all his eyes could see. It was pure, white, the color of eternal snow, but warm. The shining void encompassed everything around him until through the shining abyss he glimpsed his little hideout, the musk and cold still familiar after all those years. But there, in the center of it all, burned into the gloom was the ember orange of her hair and the blood in his palm. Ziotea huddled in the corner like a little animal, ripping at a piece of hard stolen bread with her teeth. And then, her tiny hand was outstretched before him. His eyes, unsure, but his hunger burning him up, the bread in her palm appearing like a diamond. A peace offering. A friend offering. A life offering. His pale hand, bloody, reached out for it. The void was gone. He was standing there in the engine room. Amir stared at him knowingly and clasped his shoulder, the violence of the URA's light fading. There was blood on his palm. And within it, the piece of bread lay crumpled between his fingers.