Die. Respawn. Repeat.
Chapter 266: Book 4: Realizations, Pt 2

Grappling with the idea that I've caused the end of the world would be bad enough on its own. It doesn't help that the idea is just as horrifying for my friends as it is for me.

"Ethan," Guard says. "If you do this, then everything that we have been fighting for will be for nothing. Hestia deserves more than this. Harmony deserves more than this."

"I know that," I say quietly. What else is there to say? I can try to find a future where the people in my Soul Realm survive—maybe I can find a way to shunt it off through that incomplete Intermediary holding it together. It'd let the other humans come together to take care of the survivors, and it would let me save a precious few of the people I've come to care about.

But not all of them. Not Tarin and Mari, who are likely still in their village or all the way at Carusath. Not Naru, who's finally come to terms with himself and is trying to fix all the damage he's done. Not the remainder of the Isthanok rebels, trying to keep their city together.

It feels so empty, to try to claim that I might be able to save some of them, if I'm condemning the rest of the planet to extinction in the process.

Guard knows how I'm feeling, I can tell. He can sense the entirety of my thought process through our bond, and I feel him withdrawing slightly to give me space, so the intensity of his own emotions don't overwhelm me. We all know what's at stake here, but the extent of the sacrifice we might have to make...

None of us were ready for that.

Not that it would be possible to be ready for such a thing.

"I can't force this choice on you all," I say at last. "I can't just make a decision like this if we aren't all in agreement."

"And you do not want to bear responsibility for that decision alone," Guard says evenly. I almost flinch at the words, but they aren't accusatory—he says them like he's just stating a fact.

"I don't want to die." Ahkelios curls up slightly. He's still hurting. I might have been able to hold his core together, but the damage Kauku did wasn't trivial. He buries his face between his knees, and I reach out to take some of the pain from him, letting a small trickle of Firmament ease into his core to smooth out the cracks.

Part of me worries that he'll flinch away, but instead, he leans into my touch. "I don't blame you, though, if that's what you're worried about," he mutters. "You owe me for blowing me up so many times, though. If that was you."

I smile faintly. "I'll do my best to make up for it."

Not that I'm going to have much of an opportunity to do that if we go through with this. We both know that, but it's nice to just... pretend, for a while.

"You know," Gheraa begins. I glance up at him—he's staring out over the horizon of the Fracture, at the cracks that splinter the sky into shards of glass. "I accepted my death a long time ago. I didn't even feel alive, most of the time, working under Rhoran. Except the few pranks I got away with, obviously.

"But I have to admit, you've all made me want to live again." Gheraa sighs dramatically, though his heart isn't quite in it this time. "So the timing of all this isn't great, I have to say. Couldn't you have figured this out while I was depressed?"

He smiles faintly. "I don't know, though. Thanks to you three, I was actually pretty happy for a while. Happier than I was in the centuries I lived with the Integrators. Which is to say... If I must die again, then I'm glad I was able to get to know you all first."

Ahkelios sniffs. "You make me feel selfish for not wanting to die," he mutters.

"You are not the only one," Guard says. "I have only just rediscovered my son. If I were to die here, he would be without a father."

"None of you have to die," I say. "You could hide in my Soul Realm. Gheraa can activate the Intermediary in there, get everyone safe."

All three of the others shake their heads, to my surprise. "You'd need to be alive long enough for everyone to evacuate," Gheraa says. "I can open up that Intermediary in your soul from out here, but you can't activate Soul Realm without breaking Eternal Moment, can you?"

I shake my head. Doing almost anything now would shatter the skill. Even Gheraa reaching in to activate the Intermediary is risky, although I'm pretty sure I could make it work.

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"Kauku is stronger than we are," Guard says. "But we can buy you time. Ensure the safety of those in your Soul Realm while the paradox... activates."

"Besides," Ahkelios says. "We can't just leave you alone."

"I thought you didn't want to die," I say humorlessly. He shrugs.

"There's a lot of things I don't want," he says. "Some of them are worse than others. And I think letting you do this alone would be a mistake. We've all already died once, Ethan. Some of us more than once. If we're gonna do it again, we're not gonna be cowards about it. We can at least save a few people."

"Are we doing this, then?" I ask. The time to send back the Paradox Warning is fast approaching—if I want to stop the world from ending, I need to send that warning back soon, or the paradox is guaranteed to erupt over the planet.

Guard, Ahkelios, and Gheraa all look at each other. There's a beat of silence, a moment, a moment of hesitation.

Then, one by one, they nod.

"Like you said," Gheraa says. "Seems like we don't have much of a choice."

"As long as Harmony will be safe," Guard says. "As long as I can help ensure his future."

"I just wish we could've done something that's not this." Ahkelios sighs. "You're always doing the impossible, and I mean, I know this is already doing the impossible—we're trying to kill someone that's basically a god, for crying out loud—but you're always looking for a better way. I wish we could just... I don't know, punch time so hard it fixes everything, or something. But yeah. I think we have to do this."

I stare at Ahkelios, and after a moment, he notices the way I'm looking at him. "Uh... Ethan?"

There's an intensity in my expression that probably borders on manic. "Say that again."

"I think we have to do this?"

"Before that."

"I wish we could punch time so hard it fixes everything?" Ahkelios repeats, confused. "I don't think you can punch time that hard, Ethan."

"I can't fix everything with a punch, no, but..." My mind is spinning, and after a moment, my eyes narrow. "I might be able to buy us a chance."

Now that I think about it, I've only solved one of the two mysteries that's been plaguing me. The first is the destruction of Hestia. The second—much more subtle—is the question of my Trial number is the only one I've encountered that's appended with a "B". None of the other humans have a letter label at all, and the past Trialgoers on Hestia have all had an "A" attached, as far as I know.

On top of that, it was a decidedly fist-shaped hole that opened that portal in time back to Fyran's Trial. I hadn't paid it that much notice at the time, but there are very few species I've encountered on Hestia that would be able to make a hole shaped like that.

Besides which... I clench my hand, then stare down at the resulting fist. How did I not notice it before?

If my memory serves me right, the size is an exact match.

"You're right," I announce. "I'm always looking for a better way, and I'm not going to stop now."

Those cracks in the sky don't come from Hestia's slow degeneration. They don't come from Kauku's plan to absorb the Heart and take over the Interface, either. No—those cracks come from me.

And there's a reason they look so familiar. The lines scattered across the sky match the relic the crows gave me, the one for navigating the Fracture.

They're a map I left for myself. Cracks that lead to just the right times, to just the right places, to just the right people. Not a warning or a sign of the end.

A hint.

I feel Firmament surging around me. Now that I've made this final connection, it's like the sky is opening up before me. I see the paths I need to take, the cracks in history I can exploit, and it all rushes back toward a skill that resonates deep within my soul.

[Your mastery of Causal Shattering has improved!]

[Causal Shattering has evolved to the Submerged skill: Shatter Time (Rank F)]

I can't help myself—I grin. Ahkelios looks at my expression, then turns to the other two.

"You guys are seeing this too, right?" he asks. "He's making the face."

"I was hoping he would." Gheraa relaxes, heaving an unnecessarily loud sigh of relief. "You took your time."

"You have a plan?" Guard asks.

"Besides the one where we blow up the planet?" I say. "I sure do. I'm calling off the other plan. We'll do this one instead."

I smile at Ahkelios. "Thanks for reminding me what we always do, 'Khelios."

"Happy to help!" he says cheerfully. "Um. What is the plan, exactly?"

"Oh, that's easy," I say. "I'm going to punch the planet. Really, really hard. And I'm going to need your help. Just follow my lead."

I step off the edge of the Fracture and let myself fall.

As I do, I fire off two things: first is the Paradox Warning, worded exactly the way it was when I received it months ago. That closes off that particular option to me forever—even if I sent myself a new warning now, it wouldn't have the energy of several months and loops of paradox energy stored inside it.

The second is a quick message to Adeya. If I'm right about the acceleration of time in this region, she'll have more than enough time to prepare. For this plan to work, I'm going to need everyone I can get.

Ahkelios, Guard, and Gheraa look at each other, then shrug and follow, leaping down into the Fracture with me.

Eternal Moment snaps, the skill shattering as Guard releases the skill circuit he was maintaining in the air—but the Fracture is overflowing with the power of Temporal Firmament, and the only thing we hear of Kauku is a roar of anger as he realizes where we're headed.

"What do you think you're going to do down there?" he asks. His voice echoes strangely as it bounces off the walls of the Fracture, distorted by layers of time and age. "You can't stop what I've started. The Heart is mine."

"We'll see about that," I mutter.

Not that there's any way he can hear me.

Beneath me, the glow from the planet's Heart grows ever stronger. Without a massive paradox to fuel it, there are no more massive jets of power blasting out of the Fracture and risking our lives—only layers of time that grow thicker and thicker the deeper we dive.

They part for and close behind us, almost like the planet itself is waiting for our arrival.