Universe's End

Chapter 268: Terms of Surrender

“And home,” Rory sighed as he appeared back within the familiar Null Station.

“Speak for yourself,” Zoey said, already waiting for him with her arms crossed.

“Your nest has not burned down at the very least,” Eia added.

“Yeah, that’s a win. But the notification did only reference a delegation,” Rory nodded along.

“Lord Founder!” A voice suddenly said, as Rory turned around, in no particular rush now that he was back and could see the city was still standing.

“That would be me,” Rory gave a short nod, which he figured was rather stately.

“My name is Susanna; I’m one of the Esteemed Luminary’s aides. I was tasked with waiting here in case you would arrive sooner than expected.”

“Well, here I am.”

“And you brought Lady Ascendress and Guardian Beast Eia.”

“They tagged along,” Rory said as Zoey rolled her eyes. “So, what’s the status?”

“A delegate by the name of Colonel Manson appeared not long ago, waving a white flag and wishing to speak with you. There was an initial meeting with the Chief Protector and Lady Irene, but not much else has happened since then. For now, he is being given, well, a tour of the city by one of the lead members of the Adventurer’s Guild, a Mr. Harrison -”

“Oh, Harrison, glad to see he is doing well,” Rory nodded. It hadn’t been that long since he’d last been around Ehkorrus, only around a year. Still, if anyone had a risk of dying suddenly within that time, it was adventurers and the like.

“How would you like to handle this, Lord Founder?” The woman asked as Rory thought for a moment.

“Go fetch him and bring him to my office.”

“Your office? Not the Central Throne?”

“See, I don’t like that name,” Rory huffed as he thought of the ostentatious meeting room that held what was undeniably a throne for him. “And furthermore, I don’t think this delegate would respond well to that.”

Given he’d given a title of ‘Colonel,’ Rory already pinned the man as being from either the Spear or the Woodsman’s faction originally, meaning he likely was part of some military structure, in which case Rory lording over him would be less effective than coming across like a levelheaded commander.

Information warfare. Maybe literally, only time will tell.

“What about me?” Zoey asked, raising her hand.

“For now, you can be on standby.”

“So, you mean raiding the food places?”

“Sure, knock yourself out,” Rory sighed.

“I would like to join you,” Eia said, her head hovering above them.

“Are you sure? It’s probably going to be boring.”

“While you may not wish to impose through outright intimidation, my presence will lend to it in a less… obvious way.”

“Well, fine, knock yourself out,” Rory repeated with another sigh.

Looking around at them, Rory clapped his hands together once.

“Alright, folks, let’s get this show on the road.”

“You may enter,” a woman with dark brown hair waved Colonel Manson forward, as he mentally prepared himself.

You’re a Colonel representing the unified Founders Coalition. Do not falter now, for pride in people and for pride in your home.

Holding his head up high, Colonel Manson passed through the door.

And immediately froze.

Staring him down, only a few feet from his face, was the largest serpent he’d ever seen, its head large enough to swallow him with relative ease. Whatever else there was to tell about the snake, he couldn’t say, as the world seemed to melt away behind the vortex of its eyes, feeling as if they were drawing his very life force free from his body.

Oh, and it was tier eight, if that helped at all.

“Eia, please, no need for intimidating the guests.”

“I am simply… gauging his worth.”

The snake spoke. It spoke clearly, its words resonating in his mind in a vaguely feminine voice.

Finally, mustering his strength, Colonel Manson tore his gaze away.

“He passes.”

The snake retreated, its coils like an ever-present reminder throughout the office, draping around the desk and up the walls, its head finally resting next to the presence that was perhaps even more demanding of attention.

The Architect. The ‘man’ wasn’t blasting his aura by any means. Still, the little he did let permeate the space felt laden with the essence of significance itself, a mere hint of the history shaped by his actions.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Come in,” The Architect said, waving his hand forward; a chair appeared, made of red crystal.

Taking a step forward and doing his best to hold back any signs of weakness, Colonel Manson sat down in the chair opposite one of the most renowned Founders to exist.

“I greet the Grand Architect,” Colonel Manson at last lowered his head in greeting. It had been important to him to keep his head raised until the proper greeting, to not submit himself even subconsciously.

“Colonel Manson,” The Architect said coolly, his voice wasn’t quite the deep rumbling basso one would expect from one of the Godkin Founders, but there was still something there that Colonel Manson couldn’t put a finger to. “A delegate from afar. What brings you here?”

Colonel Manson paused, mentally preparing himself. This was about to be the part that could easily see him reduced to red paste on the wall, and that was if he was lucky.

“I come with terms of surrender.”

“Oh, your faction is surrendering already?” The Architect said, raising an eyebrow that Colonel Manson instinctively knew was meant to humor him.

“N-no. As representatives of the Unified Founder Coalition, the terms are a starting point of your surrender.”

The Architect looked at him for several seconds in silence, his gaze as if he was dissecting every moment that had ever transpired in Colonel Manson’s life, seeing his innermost private thoughts.

And then the Founder laughed.

“Bold. Or perhaps ballsy,” the Founder snorted. “They’re seeking my surrender? Without even a single exchange of blows or force? Surely, they understand that they’re getting ahead of themselves.”

Colonel Manson cleared his throat; his training was the only thing keeping him from drowning in a rising surge of terror that he was essentially threatening a Founder.

“The terms are simple. Offer your surrender, declare the Spear the champion, and that is it.”

“Feels a bit like it’s nothing more than a ceremonial victory alone. Which, I’m assuming, means this was just an excuse to open dialogue and an inferred show of force?”

Colonel Manson was silent, knowing better than to overstep when the Founder was speaking aloud.

“No, there will be no surrender,” the Architect said after a moment. “I’m certain they knew that much would happen. Which leads me to believe this was nothing but a way to gauge how far I’m willing to go. Oh, and to strengthen that tethering going on between you and… elsewhere.”

Colonel Manson’s eyes twitched as the Architect smiled, the grin of a predator closing in on a cornered animal.

“Yes, I could get a sense of that tether. Not quite a traditional step through the void, but I can feel it all the same. I’m quite good at feeling those things after all. So, gauge our response, maybe collect some intel, and maybe even pressure a surrender by throwing around the fancy ‘Unified Founder Coalition’ to remind me that it’s four-versus-two. Honestly? Not the worst plan, but also quite half-baked. No, it’s not a four-versus-two; it’s all of you versus all of us. So how far are we all willing to go to win? A slaughter or a war? I find that doubtful, not if your four bosses managed to come together peacefully.”

Colonel Manson remained quiet, everything he feared coming true as the Architect seemed to effortlessly pull every single thread free, fully turning them over and inspecting them casually.

“But I don’t want wanton slaughter either. The Bird was a nuisance who caused more harm than was necessary, and frankly, I’d rather avoid a round two of that. So, instead, I’ll sidestep all of that hassle, all of the politics and scheming. You will return to your faction, and you will inform the other Founders that they are free to come here themselves. I’ll even offer a guest guarantee; we shall inflict no harm upon them as long as they remain peaceful, not a single human hair will be touched or harmed by them.”

“I… Yes. Yes, I believe they might find that worth convening for,” Colonel Manson said, mouth feeling dry. He’d done effectively nothing as far as being a delegate went, no negotiation, nothing. It had been the Architect who had dissected everything in an instant before weaving it back into something that would be acceptable to the Grand Generals.

“Alright, well, you can go now,” the Architect suddenly said, shooing him out as he was yanked from the room, and the door slammed shut a moment later.

“I... what?” Colonel Manson blinked in surprise as the meeting ended as abruptly as it had begun.

“The Architect can be like that; it is not for us to understand,” the brunette woman who’d ushered him in originally said with a sagely nod. “Now, I believe it is time for you to leave.”

“I will need some time before-”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that tether,” the woman said, somehow also aware. “That tether will be enough to send you straight back to your people after you step through the Null Window.”

“Null Window?”

“You’ll see.”

“Well, that was fun,” Rory mumbled to himself, leaning back in his chair.

“A direct challenge is an affront.”

“It’s a declaration of stalemate,” Rory corrected. “It seems they understand that they can’t just push us over. Wise, even without having seen what we are capable of.”

“Then why humor them?”

“Because they are correct. I can’t launch an assault; two Founders plus a heavily defended city is enough to hold off four Founders potentially, but twoFounders assaulting four? Not happening. And I said it myself; I don’t want wanton slaughter. This only ends when the bosses on both sides meet. Leveraging an advantage outside of that would quickly turn into some cold war or ambush tactics, and I reckon none of us want that. In fact, I’d put money on the fact that we’re all rather tired of this ‘compete, one shall come on top, blah, blah, blah’ bullshit. So, direct action.”

“I’m not sure I agree. We have the strength to fight and win.”

“And so what if we do? Is a dick-measuring contest worth it if Apostolos dies? Roxy? You? This entire competition comes down to something that Aelia pushed on us. At this point, we’ve got another event closing in rapidly, and that’s dealing with Aelia’s siblings, not to mention finishing off the Bane event. No, no point dragging this out. They wanted to test my resolve? Well, I wanted to cut through the BS.”

Eia was silent, as Rory mulled over his own thoughts.

At least, I think this was the best way forward.

No matter how he sliced it, the Founder competition was about the point of having overstayed its welcome. He’d had fun with those early bouts with Zoey, but the battle against the Bird put into perspective what the scale could be if egos were left to get in the way.

And I don’t want that.

Whatever would come of the meeting, which Rory didn’t doubt was probably only days at the most from now, it was time to put an end to this ‘event.’

And then maybe I can finally put time into my flying fortress.

“…. And I conclude my report.”

The four Grand Generals sat in silence for several seconds before the expected figure spoke.

“Kind of seems like an arrogant cock,” The Primordial Rogue snorted.

“I am not sure I would call it arrogance. There was clearly power there.” Colonel Manson said, his head bowed.

“Dick, cock, prick, all the same,” The Rogue shrugged.

“Oye, are you one to speak?” The Woodsman said.

“Oh, definitely a bit of a prick myself,” The Rogue grinned widely. “So, call me interested.”

“Was contact made with the Vanguard?” the First Monk asked.

“No,” Colonel Manson shook his head. “I was led to the ‘Null Window Station,’ and shortly after it, as you are all aware, I reappeared here.”

“Wonder if that was done on purpose,” the Spear finally said, deep in thought. “Well, in a way, our plan did work. We postured enough to force a confrontation in a way that is on terms that are generally agreeable.”

Colonel Manson said nothing, as he hadn’t been there for the internal discussions between the four Grand Generals.

“On to step B: the Founder only challenge,” The Rogue snorted.

“What’s so amusing?” The Spear asked.

“C’mon, we all know shit is going to go sideways somewhere. I’m still putting money on something like a sudden Bane alliance or some other bullshit.”

“You are too much the pessimist at times; you know that, right?” The First Monk asked.

“Realist,” the Primordial Rogue countered.

“In the end, it doesn’t matter,” the Spear cut them off. “Because no matter what, in the end, we will still be victorious.”