Universe's End

Chapter 269: Pleiades

“Alright, let’s get this place up and running,” Rory muttered as he looked at the ‘embassy’ site.

Or, what was supposed to be the embassy. It hadn’t actually undergone any construction yet.

If only this were as simple as clicking ‘build’ in an interface and presto.

Mentally, Rory sighed. For all the things Eon had adopted from video game logic, it had been rather clear that the effort still had to be put in. Conceptual alteration and all that fun stuff could go a long way, but it wouldn’t hammer out an ingot or put up beams of wood. The closest they got was that material could be harvested into the sovereign system and added into a pool of ‘build material’ that could basically fill in the cracks and other similar uses. Now, moving buildings was a little different; for whatever reason, Eon let them ‘store’ a building's information and shift it, but it only shifted the structure and some vital components; anything inside, décor, or other such stuff had to be moved manually.

Bah, whatever.

“Reporting for duty,” A man lazily saluted Rory as he approached.

“John, didn’t expect you to show up by yourself,” Rory nodded to the youngest member of the original generation.

“Sometimes you want an Architect with a capital A, other times what you need is an architect with a lowercase A. In this case, why not the best of both worlds and take the best Architect and architect?”

“Hey, I won’t complain,” Rory said with an easy grin.

“Plus, when I heard the details and how it was going to be a rush job, how could I not involve myself? That’s some serious foundation-laying significance up for grabs here. Historically relevant projects like this will make my tier eight ascent and beyond that much easier.”

“And the real reason reveals itself,” Rory snorted.

“It is what it is,” John agreed with a sly smile. “Jokes aside, for something like this, you actually do want the best around to work on it. An embassy meant to act as a neutral meeting ground between all the remaining Founders is some serious shit, and I mean from a raw power standpoint. That’s the largest group of top-caliber Transcendents ever gathered. Normally, we max out with you, Apostolos, Marcie, and I guess Tsarina when she decides to stop lurking in the waxy shadows.”

“Quite the way to describe that,” Rory pointed out.

“Not my fault that she's able to use any of that stuff as another set of eyes, or as a way to appear wherever throughout the city in pretty much a moment’s notice, but also not the point.”

“No, no, it isn’t,” Rory chuckled.

“The point is, while Apostolos, Marcie, and even Tsarina are strong, they aren’t you. And now there will be five others just like you. That’s a lot of latent aura, and if tempers flare, I’m genuinely afraid you guys might destroy any regular building without even trying to.”

“We’re not that strong,” Rory said, only for John to stare him down.

“No, I think you guys genuinely are. It’s one thing if we had a plenitude of uncommon-grade materials from areas with exceptionally pneuma-rich environments, but the sheer scale would be more than we’ve got. We’re talking stone quarried from the top of the Reverse Mountains, but we can barely get teams up there as is.”

“Speaking of which, any news on teams taking up the Deep Chambers or the King’s Climb trials?”

Ever since the King and Queen were defeated, they had both started to ‘respawn.’ Interestingly, the King’s ‘trial’ had been changed, as no longer could it be fought at the peak of the physical mountain; instead, the portal that led to the Climb remained and could be entered after accepting a trial confirmation.

“That’s more of an Irene or Apostolos discussion,” John said with a shrug. “Though the last time I, her, and Greg met up, she did mention how they’ve got some teams that applied to take on the Queen’s challenge, though with the widescale move to the Reverse Mountains still being a recent thing, the King’s challenge still hasn’t had any applicants.”

“Huh, I’m surprised she actually said all that at one of your get-togethers.”

“Well, when I say that she ‘said’ all that, I’m perhaps being generous. It’s more like she bitched and complained,” John snorted. “While we original eight are all family, the three of us being literal siblings means she tends to let it all out without reservations. The problem is, Violet, is married to Apostolos, so… ya’know. Then Gil has his own vested interests in how many resources the forge gets. Mariah is also a bit of an oddball; no one can really get a lock on her much anymore.”

“And Marcie?”

“What about Marcie?” John snorted. “If Irene doesn’t fully open up to the others because of their personal vested interests, with Marcie, it’s the opposite; Marcie just does not care. She wants to punch things; she punches things. If it’s not punching things? Marcie tunes out.”

“Quite the family,” Rory laughed.

“Quite the family,” John sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got some of my elite crew showing up shortly, and we even have Tsarina involving herself, though not directly. We’re going to be using a base structure formed from Ehkorrian Grand Tree timbers.”

Rory whistled. That was already a rather extreme expense, as the Ehkorrian Grand Tree –his home, mind you— was not fond of sharing, getting any planks or branches off of it was a rare occasion, as you did not want to piss off the tree that had essentially subsumed the entirety of the city’s innerworkings into itself.

“We considered other sources or materials, but the truth is that it is made from splinters of the Grand Tree, which will allow the Grand Tree to become one with the embassy, allowing further reinforcement. After that, we’ve got some Rejuvenation Slate, composed of-”

“Naturally sourced obsidian that’s undergone alchemical-induced metamorphosis into a mica-based stone, that then undergoes another round of alchemical-induced alterations, until finally you’re left with rejuvenation-aspected slate.”

“… right, sorry, I forgot who I’m talking to about this stuff, my bad,” John said.

“You’re fine,” Rory laughed before waving him on. “So, the wood from a Grand Ehkorrian Sequoia, Rejuvenation Slate, any other fun materials?”

“We’re going to be armoring the internals with layers of Gem Foam. Should help absorb excess magic and ground them out, though it won’t be enough to withstand anything of high yields.”

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“So, not enough to withstand a bunch of Founders flinging magic?”

“Please don’t,” John winced. “We’re also going to be using gravite paneling, and lastly, of the major materials, we’ve got some rejuvenated concrete. Which, I would explain to any other client, but in this case, you could explain it to me better than I could explain it to you.”

“Lots of valuable materials,” Rory noted.

“Yeah, but when the Lord Founder decides we need a high-level embassy erected now, you go all out. Anyway, I’m not the one footing the bill; that’s Irene.”

“You mean the city itself,” Rory corrected.

“Irene is the city, what difference does it make?” John shrugged before frowning. “Well, mostly. The Rong sort of… do their thing as long as they aren’t butting heads with other stuff. Irene tends to give the green light and tends to ignore them. Hell, they're moving their main complex down into the Maw, which has actually made Irene’s life easier. I like them anyway.”

“Because they’re constantly expanding, are a private entity, and thus your people rake in the credits.”

“You bet your ass,” John grinned. “Anyway, that’s my crew showing up. “Time to get this bad boy built?”

“Time to get this bad boy built,” Rory confirmed.

While constructing a full-on embassy back on Earth could have been a months-long project, when you had the highest-tier lowercase-A architect on site with his best people, alongside the Architect, things tended to move quickly.

Which is to say, by the time the dual suns were nearing the horizon, Rory and Greg were standing with their hands on their hips, admiring the work.

“So, any chance I could somehow hire you?” Greg said after a moment of shared appreciation.

“I’m technically your boss, you know that, right?” Rory said, bantering right back.

“No, you’re my ‘lord,’ not my boss, totally different,” the younger man, used to such verbal spars with his siblings, countered. “Actually, I’d probably have to fire you, you go missing for too long at a time.”

“There goes my job prospects,” Rory fake-sighed before going silent for several seconds. “She really is a beauty.”

“That she is. Further work will be done over the coming… I don’t know, long time? But for the base embassy, not bad,” Greg agreed.

The building looked like a cross between a pyramid and a military base. The main entrance looked almost as if someone had plopped down a miniature version of the pyramids of Giza, though stout, blocky extensions lined alongside it, albeit with angular siding, their shape language meant to invoke conceptual effects to help excess energy ‘run off’ from the entire thing.

“United Earth much?” A voice suddenly spoke up as Rory turned around to find Zoey standing several feet behind him.

“Star Trek, from you?”

“Lots of seasons, great way to waste time when you’re stuck on a plane for hours,” Zoey said.

Greg looked between the two before shrugging, unable to divine whatever it was the Founders were speaking of. Seeing as Zoey had appeared, he gave a quick nod to her before turning to Rory.

“Alright, my guys and I will go pester Irene for payment now. It was a pleasure to work alongside you, Mr. Rory.”

Rory found himself smiling at the title. Mr. Rory had been what the original eight had often called him in their youth, before the ‘Lord Founder’ moniker had become adopted into widespread vernacular.

“Take care,” Rory said as Greg turned to Irene.

“Lady Ascendress,” Greg nodded, lowering his head before turning around and heading off.

“Lady Ascendress, Lady Trailblazer, you know the Lady title has such patriarchal connotations,” Zoey sighed as Greg left.

“Right, right,” Rory rolled his eyes. “What’s up?”

“I was bored, so I followed your signature. Nice building. This supposed to be the meeting place?”

“What gave it away?”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” Zoey said, her turn to roll her eyes. “So, how long do you think until-”

That’s an event flag.

As if reality lined up perfectly to match up with her, the two of them snapped their heads beyond where the walls ended, miles away, as four signatures appeared instantly, their auras unable to be hidden upon appearing.

“You really need to work on understanding foreshadowing and all that jazz,” Rory sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, not all of us treat every moment like we need to be self-aware characters in a story,” Zoey snorted.

“Well, you have fun being eaten by a horror movie monster while I escape.”

“You say that like I haven’t been eaten and just punched my way out anyway.”

“Fair,” Rory noted. “Time to go welcome our new friends?”

“Friends, sure, let’s go with that,” Zoey sighed, as a helmet materialized in her hands, pulled on top of her head a moment later.

“Taking this seriously from the get-go,” Rory noted.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Zoey said, her voice faintly muffled by her helmet. She had several variations of face armor— all of them sourced by Rory, of course—each with a different purpose. There was light armor or glorified face masks, and then there was the sort of helmet she’d wear if she were about to go into a battle against something that had a high possibility of hitting harder than they could.

“Some would argue that a friendly appearance matters most in situations like these,” Rory argued.

“And I was the daughter of a politician. Sometimes, Dad ended up in some rather tense environments overseas. You think he skipped the bulletproof vest?”

“Noted,” Rory sighed as his own helmet appeared. Where Zoey’s helmet looked like it could be the helmet from some cyberpunk enforcer with a black visor framed against a heavy-duty promethium armoring, Rory’s was a net-frame prototype. Made of vermilion titanium, it was strong enough to deflect strikes wandering, and with a snap of his fingers, he could even project blood crystal armor to reinforce the gaps.

With the two of them as prepared as they could be, Rory grabbed Zoey’s shoulder as he flickered away, appearing in front of a man in golden armor.

“You were fast on that,” Rory noted as he saw Apostolos all armored up.

“We knew they’d be here soon by all rights,” Apostolos sighed. “I’ve basically been on standby since their delegate was sent away. Figured that by sending him through the Null Window, you’d have opened up the floodgates as a pathway was revealed for whatever their transport method is.”

“Clever, it’s like you had a good teacher back in the day,” Rory said with a smirk.

“He actually kind of sucked,” Apostolos said as Rory grumbled.

“No appreciation. I swear, the youth these days.”

Bantering over, Rory touched him with his other hand, as all three of them appeared on the third-layer wall, miles from the city's center. A figure stood on the walls, clearly waiting.

“Tsarina,” Rory nodded to the arguably second most powerful figure of Ehkorrus, himself and Zoey excluded, tied with Marcie and only a small bit behind Apostolos himself.

“Grand Khan,” Tsarina said, lowering her head. “I figured I would appear here directly.”

“Good call. With that, four of us. See, even numbers folks,” Rory said with a faint smile. “Nothing to fear now.”

It was obvious that Rory was attempting to quell any nerves, because there was no getting around the fact that moments from now, history would change, the aura of the four tier eights coming toward them neither fast nor slow, clearly making sure they weren’t appearing to be rushing them.

Seconds turned into a minute, then two, before at last the ground roughly forty yards from the wall seemed to open up, an inky black flower bulb blossoming, large enough to hold several people.

Which it was. Blooming fully, four figures stepped out as the ground resealed.

Three humans, one Osferian.

Of the four, the shortest was obviously the Osferian, a powerfully built furball badger person whose fur looked like it could replace steel wool.

Next up was a man of Asian descent, the shadows seeming to lurk around him so much so that Rory instantly pegged him as the rogue.

The next two figures were a man and a woman. The man wasn’t exactly hard to pinpoint, either, wearing very monk-like robes; the only contrast was the fact that he was a red-headed Irishman.

And then there was the woman.

As Rory stared at her, for whatever reason, it was like his brain had slowed down, taking several seconds before it rebooted to a single word.

Pretty.

Tall, probably as tall as he was, her skin was the tanned complexion of someone of Hispanic descent.

Really pretty. REALLY pretty.

Still staring at her, it wasn’t Rory who spoke first, as Zoey, who’d been prepared for war, suddenly took off her helmet, her eyes narrowed and mouth open as if she was trying to see through a mirage.

“Alice?”

The single word was enough to jolt Rory back to attention, as he found himself looking between his short best friend with her beach blonde hair and delicate features that did not do her ungodly durability justice, to the tall woman with her hair tied back like a whip, some of very pretty-

Focus.

-warrior lady.

“Zoe?” The tall woman said, striking her spear into the ground.

Wait. What?

Zoey, being confused about someone she saw was one thing, but for this person they’d never met before to know who Zoey was-

Oh. Oh. What are the chances of that?

Putting two and two together, it all clicked into place.

You’re kidding me.

This wasn’t just the meeting of the fabled remaining Founders.

It was a sister's reunion.