“So that’s the end, the end of a war that ate at us for thousands of years?” Lucy said as they stood at the exact place they had homed in through.
“I guess, but at the end, we were all puppets being played by Ophelia. It was her whole plan, her whole setup,” Silva said. He took Snow from Terra’s arms and held her.
“So who is she?” Lucy asked.
“The last Celestial. She is the reason everything happened the way it did,” Silva said and went on to explain exactly what the old man told him, giving her all the details.
“So this war, everything was all because the Celestials could not procreate?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, and Ophelia created both your races, which means she was the one that did it, she was the one that caused the deteriorating fertility rate in the Celestials.
As for her reason, I want to believe it was to propagate her plans even more,” Silva said.
“It is all just one big game to her. She doesn’t care, never has,” Lucy said.
“Well, that’s not our problem now. I have less than eight days to do what I want to. I have to deal with the remaining six versions of me.
I can’t allow them to stay, or all I’m doing will be for nothing,” Silva said.
“So how do we get there?” she asked.
“Through the void. The continents are all separated by the void. We will have to go through the void to get to the next.”
“Why put yourself through all that when we can just come to you?” a voice spoke from above Silva. He looked up and saw six figures in the sky, each one a different aged version of him.
But right off the bat, he could tell that the one who seemed to be the same age as he was, was the second variant. He oozed authority and power, and he was the one that had spoken.
“It seems the fight has come to us,” Lucy said.
“No, not to us. Take Snow and head to the Elven Empire. You can’t be here,” Silva said.
“What do you mean? There are six of them. You’ll need as much backup as you can get,” she said.
“That doesn’t apply here, Lucy. You will be a distraction, not help. I know you can tell already—each one of them has otherworldly strength,” Silva said.
Lucy didn’t want to walk away. She wanted to believe that she, the Demon Lord, was capable of something here at the very least, but the truth was brutal. She couldn’t help, and Silva saw her as only a distraction.
“Fine, I’ll go,” she said, walking up to him and taking Snow. Snow tried to cling onto Silva, but Lucy forced her hand off and flew away immediately without looking back.
“To think that you would make friends with the Demon Lord and then carry the last Celestial as well—you really do have a big heart, Eight,” the second said with a smile.
“I’m not Eight. I am Silva. You might have all thrown away your identities, but I carry mine. I take it with me, and I wear it out for everyone to see,” Silva said.
“What a joke. Who do you think you are, Eight? Because you killed Seventh, you feel untouchable? You are just another number, another version of us, the perfect lab rats for Ophelia.
None of us asked for this life, but we were forced here, taught to love this world, only for it to be ripped out of our hands.
And for what? Because a helpless goddess is trying to free herself from chains she placed herself in? Where is our say in it? Where is our opinion?
She took it all away, used us for the fulfillment of her wishes, and when one failed, she simply took another of us and thrust into new worlds with fake memories.
She is the definition of a monster, an evil creature, and the only way to stop her is by destroying her world. Without it, she’ll have no more chances to manipulate fate repeatedly,” Second said.
“I understand your thoughts, all of you, but I can’t go with it. I have people here that I care for, love, and cherish. I’ve lost many of them, and I don’t want to lose more.
The reason I go as far as I do is to make sure that I keep them alive. It’s to make sure that I keep them safe. And because of that, I can’t allow you to destroy Argon.
The people here, they didn’t do anything to us. Your rage is targeted at the wrong people. Your rage should be directed at Ophelia,” Silva said.
“Why don’t you understand? Those people you cherish and fight for—all of them are memories. They aren’t real. They are collected memories put into bodies. What they remember as their past might not be their past.
What you are fighting for might not be real. None of us know if it is real, because we are still under her thumb, and until we break free, we will never know,” Second said.
“They are real to me. Their memories are real to me. I watched all of them grow with me, live with me, and they are still with me.
I don’t care how you twist and turn it. They are real. They are my family, my friends, my continent,” Silva said.
“Eight, you leave me no choice. At the end of this meeting, Argon will either stand or fall. There are no other options,” Second said and pulled out his Abyssal blade, and so did all the other five.
Silva looked at them, seeing that they were resolved to battle. He took his sword as well. “I would have loved to know my other versions, hear their story, and know their journey, but I guess that will never be.”
“It could have been, but you chose the goddess over us,” Second replied.