Chapter 173: Final Battle's End & Chapter 174: The Center

Including these two, there should be six more chapters, and an Epilogue.

Chapter 173: Final Battle's End

On Earth…

Lex wandered around New Delhi. The city, once the capital of one of the Earth’s largest countries, was now the broken ruin of a quickly fading civilization. All that was left was rubble, lost dreams, and the remnants of humanity, picking up the pieces.

An average-sized monkey lifted its head in the air as he walked around the corner. Average for the end of the world meant the creature was over seven feet tall, but Lex had already adjusted to the changes. It sniffed the air, shrieking into the sky before sharply turning its gaze toward him. With two hoots, it turned around and ran away, causing Lex to sigh. 

“Nothing wants to fight me anymore.” He lamented, turning around another rubble-filled corner. 

Knowing there was nothing to do, as every altered animal in the city had regressed to run away and hide, Lex shifted his trajectory, heading on a path that would quickly bring him back to the med ward.

He passed by a few survivors, giving and receiving nods of mutual respect. These people had been through it all. Shadow monsters. Starvation. An unexpected attack by a madman, who then disappeared only days later. That one still puzzled everybody, but as the old man had left, so too did the rage present in every creature they ran across. 

The world had changed as well. Strange people had arrived. Their skin was different, like it was loosely held onto their bodies. And every one of them was extremely short by the standards Lex had grown used to. But they fit in well, these Haveners, and time moved forward as the new survivors joined the old.

Lex could still grow his body; Elsie, trapped in the medical ward, could still call Chuck to her hand. But something else was going on. It felt like everything was slower, and he didn’t know what to make of it. 

The strange thing was that only the other Champions had noticed. The standard survivor couldn’t feel a difference, and that was telling.

Shaking his head at a short woman offering him food, he stooped down and entered the building, holding those still too injured to move around easily. Elsie offered him a weak smile as she waved her stump at him from a cot near the door. 

“Hey, kid. Find anything?”

“No!” Lex grumped, dropping his club to the ground with a heavy thud, “All they want to do is run away now.”

“Aww, shucks, kid. Don’t worry. I’m sure something will spice up soon at the end of the world.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes growing big with hope.

Elsie gave the appearance of a thumbs-up with her stump, “Sure, why not?”

Lex sat in one of the nearby chairs, looking over at Elsie’s two wards, deep shadows rimming their eyes, “How’re they doing?”

Elsie looked at them with a frown, “As good as could be expected when you’re chased all night by a massive and angry cobra. Time will heal that wound.” She looked over at him, “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What’s that?”

“Well,” She tried to scratch her face with her stump, blinked at it, then scratched her face with her actual hand, “What are you planning on doing now? Mr. Nobody’s gone. Poof. Can’t find hide nor hair of him. So what’s the plan now?”

“Thinking of the future has kind of seemed like a luxury, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” She said with a crooked smile, “But, really, what-”

A green light erupted in the center of her chest mid-sentence. As soon as the light touched her, Elsie began to scream, clawing at it with her hand and rubbing the still-healing stump against it as well. 

Lex leaped forward, holding her arms down as he screamed, “What is it! What’s wrong!” She didn’t respond, only kept screaming as another light entered Lex’s view.

This one on his own chest.

Lex’s legs gave out beneath him as a bright light lit up his vision. His arms, legs, and every single part of him grew and shrank in size wildly and without explanation. An open-mouthed scream erupted from the back of his throat as the light burned in his vision, a similar burning feeling erupting from the entirety of his body and occluding any thoughts that tried to enter his mind. 

He blacked out, knowing nothing more, just as his new friend Sky entered the room with a fearful expression.

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Sending two extra minds to his internal world, Walker checked through his connections. The multiminds rotated through several progressively expanding books, giving him updates as to what was happening on Symphony.

What he saw greatly encouraged him. 

The greatest threat of Ra’jin was his size and evolutions. With a gargantuan body, toughened and empowered by hundreds of evolutions, few things Walker could think of would be able to stand against him. Throw in the Godeater taking his strength to the next level, and it was practically impossible to defeat him.

Domesticating him might’ve worked, but instinct and his understanding of the Council told him that it might not have. That was why he’d chosen to change himself. And now, it was paying great dividends as the Origin-infused Symphonians fought a winning war against tens of thousands of planeteaters.

Something new was happening too. Something he hadn’t expected. 

As the planeteaters died, if they were holding a soul, it was released. Bit by bit, all of the souls previously absorbed by the whole being known as Ra’jin were released. And they had nowhere to go.

“Gotta catch them all,” Walker said with a deathly serious expression. One mind shifted to a different process, then dozens of portals appeared in a series.

A pin on the lapel of his green coat, one in the shape of a book with a tree on the cover, opened up as the Idol mind inhabited it. Two dark pages reflected back on a world filled with madness as Walker entered the first portal, leaving a single reflection behind.

Two new reflections sprang out as he exited the portal, each with a multimind attached, along with a healthy dollop of dimensionality and a covering of kinetic energy. They sprinted into the distance at great speed, pulverizing wounded planeteaters with a single punch. As Walker moved through the area, noting everything occurring across the planet’s surface and absorbing the displaced souls of Primigenials, he couldn’t stop the rage that built up. 

His memories, experiences, and the knowledge of others told him it wasn’t logical. That this… war world that was never meant to be. It was meant to be a Symphony, a balance of harmony and conflict. Of percussions as well as beautiful stringed moments. 

And he would make it so when this farce of a protocol ended, when there were no more fingers dipping into his pie, when they were finally gone, and away from this place.

He stepped through each portal, set up for him to move from one to the next with as few economical movements as possible. He traveled the shattered world of Symphony, as a little bit at a time, some of his connections were cut. His people were dying. 

Then he discovered something new about his burgeoning power. It could be taken away. 

Books and knowledge disappeared from his mindscape as the bonds between Primordial and Follower were severed. It weakened him, far more than he’d thought it would. His memories shifted, filling in the new gaps, but it left a hollow place deep within.

On the 9th portal walk, the two reflections came close and slapped hands with Walker, reconnecting the remote soulpower he’d placed in them back with his main body, then closed his eyes.

A thunderbolt fruit dropped from the Everbound tree, resolving into his soon-to-be father-in-law.

“Hello, Zeus,” Walker said calmly.

The bearded Primordial looked around with big eyes as he took in Walker’s metaphysical world. “How big did you make this place, Walker?”

“Big enough to hold you and your whole family,” Walker said with a smile as he patted the old man on the shoulder, “This will be your home, but I may have a better solution as I gain more power. Just give me a little time.”

The old man laughed, “I thought I was gonna die. Instead, I end up in this paradise.” He waved a hand, “Take all the time you need.”

Walker gave him a smile; then they were suddenly somewhere else. Above a large mountain holding an understanding of peace, sat several fluffy clouds. Dense under their feet, Walker and Zeus settled down as the environment shaped itself to be a carbon copy of New Olympus.

Walker patted him on the shoulder again, “I have to get going, you take care of yourself. Your family will be joining you soon.” As his body began to fade, he heard the old man say, “Take care of my daughter.” Then he was back in the real world.

The Symphonians weren’t holding back as both the terrors of the Conservatory and the planeteaters learned their place. Symphony had trained itself for fifty years for this battle, and they weren’t going to let floating space worms or invading beetles take away their home. 

Walker helped where he could as he further absorbed the souls of the fallen. He left the Symphonians where they were. The Alpha Protocol would see to it that they all came back fully revived. But the reincarnation system still wasn’t working the way it should, and he didn’t have time to fix it right now.

Connections tore; heroics were seen; Planeteaters ate. 

But Symphony was still coming out ahead.

Heph and his wife joined him within, their pages adding quite a lot to Walker’s knowledge of crafting, as well as…other things.

Chipper unexpectedly died after multiple planeteaters converged at once. Surrounded on all sides, the Alpha Guardian fell after a lucky strike from a passing creature that looked very similar to stories Walker had read about demons.

The moment it happened, Runner Grove burst onto the scene, wiping out everything unfriendly within several miles in a matter of seconds.

Walker exited a portal near her, close enough to hear heavy breathing as the woman entered a fighting stance until she realized who he was. 

“We’re…having…a…hard…time.” She said as she slumped back into a recovery position.

“Not quite,” Walker said with a shake of his head, “There’s only about a thousand planeteater left. On all accounts, Symphony has defended itself admirably.” Two reflection multiminds stepped through the portal after him, transferring their souls over as Walker gained a minor powerup. “This should end in the next…five minutes.”

“Are…you…sure?”

“Indeed.” Walker said with a smile, “He patted Runner on the shoulder, an odd affectation he’d recently picked up, “You did well, Runner. All of you did. Chipper will be back, and won’t have any memory of this.”

“Oh…thank goodness.” She replied as some air finally inflated her lungs, “I was worried this was going to go on forever.”

“No, it’s almost over. Then we can go about building Symphony to be the home of our dreams, rather than a trial to be completed.” Walker frowned as he stepped over to a planeteater. With a twist, he absorbed the souls within, placing all three Nordic Primigenials into his inner world. 

“So that’s how they work.” Walker said as the information entered his mind.

“What?” Runner asked as she stood up from her bent-over position.

“Nothing,” Walker said, waving her off, “I just learned how to make trials, is all.” He tapped his chin, then opened a portal to a vast sea, “Can you head in here and clear out a few of the planeteaters hiding under the water. I believe our enemy has figured out that they’re going to lose and they’re trying to be sneaky.”

“Of course.” Runner stepped toward the portal, her tightly bound clothing already starting to blur, when she stopped and hugged him from behind. “We’re going to do this, Dad.”

“Yes, dear,” Walker said, patting the two hands wrapped around his midsection, “I know.”

The portal closed behind her when Walker got a notice from his Soul Vision. Stepping through another portal, Walker absorbed the reflection, only a few miles away from Sonata, and looked over at the sun. A metal sphere was expeditiously flying towards it, with something following close behind.

Walker stepped through a portal and ended up right in front of Mac.

Mac: Walker! You’ve gotta help! It’s trying to eat me!

“Hello, Mac. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” He said, patting the large sphere as it got closer. “Do me a favor, make sure you stay nearby just in case this ends and the Alpha Protocol does some fuckery.”

Mac: You’ve got it!

Mac moved past him as the planeteater slowed. When he’d first seen one during the second battle, it had instilled dread deep in his spine. Now, it was a pitiful one-minded creature. A monster designed to destroy, and never create.

Walker stepped forward on Hardened Space as the planeteaters on Symphony entered the triple digits, “Your time is running out.”

“Yes, I am aware.” Ra’jin said with a tired voice, “I have to be honest with you, Creator Dante. You’ve bested me. You even took down my little protege.”

Walker tilted his head, “What, no big speech? No, I will be back!”

The Planeteater’s smile never shifted. “I am not the villain here. You know who sent me, do you not?”

“Yep,” Walker replied with a nod, “And they won’t like having to deal with me.”

The planeteater’s smile changed at that, growing ever larger as his skin seemed to fold back, “No, I don’t think they will.”

They stood like that for some time as Symphony whittled the planeteaters down. When the second to last fell, Walker reached forth, placing a hand on the planeteaters head. “Any last words before you get reincarnated?”

“Beware the Council. It is not what it seems.”

“I know,” Walker said with a nod, as kinetic energy burst through the planeteater's body, shredding it quickly and with mercy. The notification came in quickly as Walker’s connections told him everything had frozen.

Congratulations Dante!

You’ve won the final battle of the Creator Wars!

Due to-

Walker tapped into John Reed's memories, having absorbed his empowered soul during a quick trip, then shrugged off the loose hold time had on him. It was as simple as tapping an exit point in the universal soul around him. 

Tapping into the System Designer and the Conductor System, he made copies of every system the Alpha Protocol had seen fit to grant him, making sure that no matter where he went, they went with him. Then, finished reading the notification and shrugged. 

“I guess we have to have a chat.” 

Reaching forth with his soul, he unclogged all of the areas surrounding Symphony, letting time flow freely. Checking that the Alpha Protocol was restoring his worlds, however slowly the landmasses moved, he allowed the translocation to take him. 

In two blinks, Walker found himself in a room filled with portals. It was time for Dante and the Council to have a little chat.

Chapter 174: The Center

On Sonata…

Virgil stood, surrounded by hundreds of assistants, as the battle for their future continued on with little of his input. The monitors kept them updated, the systems adapted to the pressing need caused by the Creator Wars, and Virgil stood there, seemingly alone, with no opportunity to affect the outcome.

That didn’t mean he was doing nothing.

Walker had gone through a change. Virgil’s processors had all aligned in their goals long ago during the displacement. The Primary was in unity, with each telling him the same thing, Walker Reed was different. He walked differently, talked differently, and based on what they saw from his conversation with Runner and Ra’jin, even thought differently; A stark change from his former self. The hypothesis was further proved from his quick destruction of the Slicer. 

All of it led the Primary and attached processors to one irrefutable point. 

He doesn’t need me anymore.

They were friends. Best friends, based on what Walker had told him. But what was his job to be going forward? A mid-level manager of assistants? A go-between? Was that really what a Supreme assistant should be doing?

It was small. Limited. A weakness in a solar system and soon-to-be universe that was meant to drive out such things. It was un-Symphonian. Virgil needed more. He needed the liberty to choose his own pursuits. Something that fit his vast intellect and collection of knowledge.

He looked at the new system Walker had built for him, one that let him access all of Walker’s abilities. There was something he and his fellow assistants could do that nobody else could. Something that would make them matter beyond Walker’s changes. 

But it involved great sacrifice.

A sacrifice worthy of a Supreme Assistant.

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On Symphony…

Chipper looked around. Nothing was different, nothing was changed. His old Mana Tree stood tall, its new Guardian relaxing in its boughs. The Eternal Base looked pristine, just the way he’d left it. His last memory was of Runner counting down the time before everything grew hazy.

As if summoned by his thoughts, a blip of motion, and there she was. 

“Hey Chipper! Guess what!” She said, dancing from one foot to another, “We won!”

Chipper wrote in the air, “Yes, I had assumed so, based on us being here and not a faded memory of a failed world.” He paused, then wrote again, “I just wish I could remember.”

“Oh…OH! I remember. Yeah, Walker went through some kind of power bump, and none of us who survived forgot the battle. In fact, here, he actually sent you something.”

A book appeared in her hands, one she quickly handed over. 

My Friend Chipper: What He’s Done for Symphony

By Walker Reed: Creator

Chipper, mesmerized by what he saw, moved to the first page. 

Before he was the Zenith and the Alpha Guardian, Chipper was the first Guardian of Symphony, and my friend. None of what is, would be, without him. He’s a good man and a good soul. 

On one mishapen adventure of mine, I’d tried to reach him before the second battle. I had hope, that in meeting Chipper, I could solidify my goals for Symphony. That I could make this place into somewhere where the exploration of self mattered as much as the exploration of discoveries. I failed in that adventure, but I succeeded in meeting a person on whom I would rely so very heavily.

And so, I decided to create this book of all of Chipper’s moments in which he’s fought for Symphony, from befriending Raganoth the Bleeder, to his glorious battle against a horde of planeteaters. 

This is the story of Chipper the Zenith.

Without meaning to, Chipper removed a chair from his inventory and sat down, the book open before him, as Runner left, speaking about needing to find Lucy Reed. 

He turned to the next page.

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Across Symphony…

Everywhere in the world, books appeared in front of people as Walker took the long path to meet the council.

Books appeared that explained how to fly the new spacecraft that had recently appeared in the Interconnected Item system. More books appeared that showed how to create self-repairing weapons and armor, vehicles, and defensive structures. Even more detailed the exploits of different members of their society, highlighting the wonder and majesty in which fidelity to self propelled the person forward- as well as explaining what fidelity meant. 

These books and manuals, guides and Idiot’s how to’s were selflessly given to any and all who had connections to the one known as Walker Reed. Some described abilities that could be gained, while others spoke of philosophy, as varied as the minds of Earth could be. 

Most Symphonians internalized the writing, then, as instructed in the final page of each book, donated it to the Library of each unique territory, spreading the knowledge far and wide. Because, as everyone knew, a book added to one library was added to them all.

And just like that, Symphony’s future as well as its history became written from the mind of a Creator.

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In the Center…

Walker turned another corner as his overlay automatically updated. The map system the Evolvers used was quite intuitive, even going so far as to change in real-time as he moved around obstacles within the Center. He liked it enough to tap into the line leading from his soul to somewhere just outside the walls. A movement from his System Administrator powers, and Walker gained a new system imprinted into his soul.

But he couldn’t say he liked the Center.

If he said he was impressed by the gaudy grandeur of the place, he’d be lying. Every identify gave a history of each little piece of the place, from a padded chair that was three-thousand years old and crafted by a master, to a glass window that told him it was not, in fact, glass, but some new construct that had appeared and disappeared during one of the second Renditions. All gold and ivory colored, a demarcation of splendor from the poor surroundings of Luck’s Haven’s undercity and the Grand Auction. It sickened him.

Still, he was taking the long way to the Conjoint Council Chambers for two reasons. One, it forced all the Council Members to wait on him, a bit of pettiness he couldn’t stop himself from achieving. And two, it gave him time to make several additions and changes to Symphony using the Remote system.

For instance, he had copied the Portal system, miniaturized it, and then added it to the Mac system using his new System Connector. It allowed events to automatically deliver items to winning entrants in the blink of an eye, taking away the need for Walker to stand on ceremony all the time. 

Not that he disliked it, but as Symphony would continuously grow, events would still arrive with force, lest the wonder of the world fall away. There was a good chance he wouldn’t be able to attend, so, this way, everyone received their just rewards.

And that was only one of his minds at work. 

Another had messaged the assistants, informing Virgil of his need to create a standardized growing crystal ore from the extra planets they’d absorbed, with direct explanations in how to plant it across Symphony. It would allow all self-repairing equipment to no longer need raw crystal, granting well-made equipment the ability to last far longer than was currently standard, and improving the lives of the Symphonians. 

And that mind had only been at work for a few minutes.

More and more systems were built, then allocated to assistants for management as Walker walked through a hall, while further building a world. The Enchanting system was finally updated and activated, as well as the Alchemy system. Several thousand items from within the Interconnected item system were added to the Bounty system, bringing new rewards and opportunities to Symphony. He even granted further autonomy to the Dungeon Lords, informing them through their chatroom of what the new powers would allow.

It was all about streamlining Symphony into a perfectly oiled machine.

Overall, Walker made great progress on his solitary walk to the council chambers. Dozens of sweeping updates leaped through Symphony’s older systems, including further tiers within the Monster system. Ideas veritably leapt to the forefront of Walker’s consciousness as his Idol finally had time to merge his thoughts into cohesive planning. 

Symphony would be a world unlike any other. He guaranteed that.

But all too soon, the map updated again, letting him know he would soon arrive at the chamber’s entrance. It was a true shame, as he felt he was making such good progress on his goals.

With a total lack of nervousness, Walker stepped toward the golden doors before him, automatically swinging open on his arrival. 

What he entered was a long room, filled to the brim with throne-like seats. The seating was cut into sections, with glowing writing underneath each labeling them as a specific protocol council. In the front, near the bottom, sat the Alpha Protocol Council, its first seat glaringly empty.

Walker took in everything and nothing as his minds went to work internalizing all of the identify’s, and making battle plans for what was sure to be a contentious conversation. Only instead of planning a war of the soul and magic, it was a war of words. He already had no interest in what they would offer him. 

Various humanoids and creatures filled every seat, from draconic to insectoid, and even a jelly man, giving Walker a mixed feeling momentarily. But it was the man seated in the center of the Alpha Protocol Council who smiled as Walker stepped toward a podium near the middle of the room. Naturally, it was the stitched man.

The black lines leading through his body were still there, throwing Walker’s thoughts into a loop. But then he looked a little closer. He didn’t know if it was the heightened power of his soul or the changes he’d recently made to his eyes, but the darkness of the lines was less hazy than before. 

In fact, the longer he looked, the more he noticed how wrong he truly was. It wasn’t the black lines of the Godeater sitting within the Council Member. Instead, it was so many colors intermixing that they’d joined into seeming like long black lines. There were so many colored souls that Walker’s minds simply gave up trying to interpret how many were contained. Even with the Idol of Knowledge, he didn’t know what to think of that. His mental processing was put on pause as the man himself spoke up.

“Hello, Creator Dante, and welcome to a rare occurrence- a meeting of all the Councils of the Evolver faction. This was last done several millennia ago for the Creator who brought us the Evolution Chamber. A genius among geniuses, much like yourself.”

Walker didn’t say anything as the Stitched man gave him a large smile. Several seconds passed, the man’s smile seeming to grow due to his prolonged silence and stoic expression. Until, finally, something seemed to break as a tiny green woman yelled out from the Omega Council. 

“Nothing to say! We, all of us with our incredibly busy lives, have gathered here to hear you speak. This is a unique moment in the time of the Evolvers. One where our renditions, our very strength as a people, will increase in power tenfold in the next thousand years. Enough so that we can finally bring the fight back to the Awakened. You’ll be rewarded immensely for your time in the Alpha Protocol, perhaps even gaining a junior seat on one of our esteemed councils. And you have nothing to say? No gratitude? No thoughts? No opinions? ”

“Sure, I have opinions,” Walker said as he scratched his chin, “But you don’t want to hear them. You want to hear my gratitude. The gratitude of a man plucked from his world, a world that barely even exists anymore, I’ll remind you. In particular because of your council and its busy lives. I’d just as soon decline any of your offers and head back to my world.”

“You have a lot to learn, young one.” The tiny woman replied with a glare.

“First, I’m probably older than all of you,” Walker said, which only made the stitched man’s grin reappear, “and second, learning isn’t an issue for me. For instance, I’ve learned when to keep my mouth shut and just mosey on my way. You don’t want to hear what I have to say. If you release me and send me back, all of this can be done, and you can return to your busy lives. No harm, no foul. Just a continuance of what has occurred before and what will still continue long after you’ve forgotten Creator Dante and the Fourth Rendition’s Alpha Protocol.”

Naturally, Walker knew that wouldn’t happen. He knew they couldn’t just let him go like that, not with what he’d brought to them. Even his ability to expand on pocket dimensions was likely worth kidnapping him and leaving Symphony to rot without a guiding hand. 

But that wasn’t the purpose of his small speech. It was to rile them up, so he could say what he really wanted to when they asked for it, that way his little world wouldn’t be punished for expressing what they’d asked for. It was about protecting Symphony, as always.

And it worked like a charm.

The stitched man raised a hand, quieting the woman before she could speak, “I’d love to hear what you have to say, Creator Dante.”

“Are you sure? It won’t be friendly.”

“Absolutely, it would be greatly helpful for me.” He replied with a wide smile. 

“Alright.” Walker’s minds went quiet, “For a long time in my life, being here has been both a dream and a fear of mine. You’ve offered me things that I have no interest in.” He waved a hand, using his knowledge from Chipper’s memories to create writing in the air from his third-tier kernels. 

It was a listed breakdown of all the titles and rewards from completing the final battle. 

“You’ve offered me rewards without an understanding of what they truly mean. You see the man I am, not the one I’m trying to be. Those things you spoke of,” He said with a nod to the green woman, “are history. What I can bring you is simply math. In my life before the protocol, I was an English teacher. Earthers, beings from the planet you destroyed, use English as a stand-in word for critical thinking. If you were my students, I would fail you right now.”

A massive multi-tentacled creature from the Bravo protocol called out, “What makes you think you’ll succeed? That you don’t need us or what we can bring to you?”

With a sigh, Walker said, “Because I said so. I’m not like all of you. I don’t have dreams of fighting the Awakened, of destroying others for personal gain. I just want to go home, back to Symphony, and live with my people. I don’t want to be a part of your society, with its rules for thee but not for me.” Walker gestured at the empty first seat on the Alpha Protocol Council, “Where you try to constantly sabotage Creators you don’t like.” He waved up toward the Omega and Psi Protocols, “Where you can destroy worlds for not fitting your standards, whatever they may be. My life is for my people. I don’t need to feel tall by standing on the shoulders of others.”

“Are you certain?” The Stitched man said with a great laugh, as always, coming across incongruous with his body, “It is standard for the first-place winner of each Alpha Protocol to at least join a sub-protocol council. The rewards are more than generous. I’ll admit the previous First Council Member was held to a bit of a double standard-”

“If you didn’t have double standards, I’d be shocked to find you had any at all.” Walker interrupted, causing many in the crowd to bristle, “I’ll explain this very simply.” He infused kinetic energy into his throat, increasing it’s projection and deepening the sound of his voice, “I have no interest in joining any councils, and want to be left to my own devices. Keep your rewards. Keep your taxes and allowance. Keep your empty titles and wasted gestures. Leave. Me and Symphony. Alone.”

Several Council Members stood up at that, many taking aggressive stances in his direction as the Stitched man spoke with a smile, “You’re not making a very good first impression here.”

“Normally, I’m great at first impressions. It’s the rest of them that cause me trouble.” Walker replied while scratching the back of his head. He looked around, seeing glares and shifting positions as the most powerful people in the multiverse stared back at him, “Can I go home now? Please?”

That opened up the floodgates, as each Council member either yelled at Walker or each other. They threw out gestures, obviously angry at his refusal to join them, while the Creator of Symphony stood there and placidly waited. Naturally, the stitched man began to laugh through it all, his voice echoing up and down as he seemed to dab at the corner of his eyes. His hands came away red.

Even over the loud din of anger and yelling, Walker heard him as he whispered, “Oh, Walker. You’re exactly as I’d hoped you’d be.”

Doors opened all along the upper rafters as several figures stepped through unseen. Walker only noticed because one of his minds was still identifying everything at once. What he saw was worrying.

Every one of the people who’d stepped through had an Awakened soul.

The stitched man’s laugh caught, then came back louder than ever when the first head was taken in the upper rafters. Blood leaked and stained the Evolver’s seats of power as the Councils yelled and argued, unknowing of what was occurring only feet away. And they died. They died one by one, as their members were cut down while they were seemingly unaware in their fits of anger.

It was a river of mixed and multicolored blood dripping into the third row that informed those still remaining of what was occurring. Screams of rage turned to fright as powers began to flash. Great balls of flame, gravity, and anything else they’d could use were tossed in a general mayhem of terror. Evolvers fell, but so too did the Awakened, diving into close physical range to cut down any who remained. 

And still, the stitched man laughed. He laughed and laughed, even as the stitches began to come loose with dribbles of blood. Even as the skin began to slough off, ripping and sliding away as a different figure appeared within. 

Even as the Awakened and Evolvers waged a mini-war right behind him.

No alarms rang, nor help came for the Evolvers. Only more and more Awakened, prepared for their terrible purpose.

And through it all, Walker stood there, watching as one of his furthest-reaching predictions came true. Virgil had said intelligence and knowledge always ended up in sadness. But even though he’d foreseen a possibility of this occurring, it didn’t fill him with such feelings. Instead, it had a feeling of inevitability. 

The no-longer stitched man stepped out of his skin suit, stretching his blood-covered arms high in the air and naked as can be. Within a blink, a set of very nice, bespoke clothing wrapped around him, looking slightly similar to the outfit Runner Grove had last been wearing. He gave a great, belly-filled laugh as the Councilmembers beside him prepared to attack, just as a pulse of blackish purple soul energy shot out, cutting and intercepting each member's necks in one devastating attack.

Seven heads fell to the floor before he finally stopped laughing, a wide grin on a handsome face staring back at him. 

“Oh, I have waited for this for so very long, Walker Reed. You may not be Kwaya, but you’re the next best thing.” He gave a gentle wave as he said, “Call me Alma.”