Chapter 392: 392. Crater of Memories (Part 10)

The pressure surrounding Nicholas's skull was like a vice, a vice stronger than any hydraulic press humanity had ever constructed. It felt as though invisible hands had wrapped themselves around his head and were slowly tightening their grip, compressing bone, flesh, thought and memory together until there was no distinction between them. His vision disappeared beneath a flood of impossible information, and for one terrible instant Nicholas thought his mind had simply ceased to exist.

Then he saw everything.

The instant he occupied was there, perfectly preserved, and beyond it lay seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years. Every moment stretched before him in an impossible branching procession, each future overlapping the next.

He saw himself move through rooms he had never entered, speak words he had not yet conceived, receive answers from people who had not yet been asked their questions.

He saw the meals he would eat, the clothes he would wear, the conversations he would have, the songs he would absentmindedly hum while working.

He saw trivial things with the same horrifying clarity as monumental ones, the precise flavor of a meal, the sound of a door closing, the expression on a stranger's face, the way rain would collect against a window.

And then the visions became darker.

He saw the things he would do and the horrors he would commit. He saw the runes he would create and the people whose lives he would ruin.

He saw himself making decisions with blood on his hands and rationalizing them because every sacrifice was supposedly necessary. He watched himself manipulate people, deceive them, exploit them and sacrifice them. He saw faces that would become familiar only after he had already destroyed their lives.

He saw the growth of Sleepless, the infiltration of kingdoms, the slow corruption of organizations that believed themselves safe. He saw himself standing beside Tyrian again and again, each time sinking deeper into a path that had once seemed temporary.

Then the vision expanded.

Nicholas saw the Keepers.

Their fortress assaulted from within and without. He saw Rank 3 Grimm tearing through defenses that had once seemed invincible. He saw the Keepers slaughtered, their ancient guardianship ending beneath an overwhelming tide of monsters and Sleepless operatives.

He saw the Dream Realm align with reality, its impossible geography and nightmares bleeding into the waking world until there was no meaningful distinction between sleeping and waking.

He saw Tyrian open the barrier surrounding the moon. Nicholas saw him collect the Supreme Runes.

Destruction.

Knowledge.

Creation.

Choice.

He saw them orbit Tyrian like fragments of some impossible crown, and then he saw the transformation.

Tyrian ceased to be merely Tyrian and the distinction between man and vessel vanished.

Nicholas watched as Salem's presence filled him, watched as Tyrian became the pure Vessel for something beyond Rank 3, something that the existing hierarchy of Runes was never designed to contain.

Rank 4.

The thought itself felt obscene.

Then came the sky.

The stars turned their gaze toward the planet.

Nicholas watched as the hidden heavens revealed themselves, as countless distant points of light ceased being passive celestial bodies and became eyes. They had always been there. Humanity simply had not been permitted to perceive them.

The System had hidden them and the Dream Realm's superimposition over reality had hidden them. The boundary between waking existence and the supernatural had concealed them behind a curtain that humanity had never known existed.

But now that the Sleeper was awake and now that she announced her presence, the stars watched. Then, they turned away.

Nicholas did not understand why at first but then he saw what had entered the sky. A blood-red moon.

Except it was no longer a moon.

It was an eye.

A gigantic, blood-red, slitted eye that covered the heavens, replacing the stars and bathing reality beneath it in a horrifying crimson gaze. It did not merely hang in the sky, but stared staining the world with its vision. Its descent and presence pressed against every living thing until humanity drowned beneath the weight of being observed.

The moon had become an eye.

The Empyrean Eye.

Nicholas's breath caught in his throat even though this was only a vision. He saw humanity look upward in terror as the impossible celestial body opened wider, the iris swallowing the night sky. He saw people fall to their knees. He saw cities descend into chaos and armies fire upon things they could never hope to hurt.

And beneath that eye, Salem was free.

Broken from the seal that had restrained her, she rapidly reclaimed her power. The blackness surrounding her expanded. Her presence spread through the Dream Realm and reality alike, and she looked down upon the world below.

She had awakened.

And Nicholas understood something else. The beings in the heavens were her kin.

Kin?

The word struck him harder than any other revelation.

The Sleeper had kin.

Gods?

Nicholas's eyes began to bleed.

Images of those things burned themselves into his mind, shadows of colossal entities whose true forms his human perception could not properly comprehend. His vision caught fragments of them, silhouettes behind stars, impossible shapes moving through spaces that should not have contained them.

Their presence alone caused his thoughts to fracture. His eyes felt as though they were being boiled from within.

Still, Knowledge showed him more.

The Grimm came.

Cities fell beneath endless tides of monsters. The creatures consumed streets, buildings and entire populations. Humanity's armies collapsed beneath the pressure of an enemy that could multiply faster than civilization could respond. Nations broke and communications failed.

The world burned.

And yet, Nicholas saw something that made the devastation almost worse.

Both his family and Sleepless survived. He saw himself standing beside the vessel of Salem. He saw himself helping rule the remnants of the world.

He saw his children.

Older.

They stood beside him, immortal and undying, no longer the children he remembered but beings who had lived long enough to become accustomed to the world that had been created around them.

They smiled as people below were hunted.

Nicholas watched himself look upon his children. They were happy. That realization devastated him more than their immortality.

They had accepted it and the world. They lived within it and had become part of it.

Then Nicholas saw Seraphina.

His wife stood nearby, older but still unmistakably herself. She looked toward him with a sadness so profound that Nicholas felt his heart tear apart.

She knew what he had done, and yet she still remained.

The visions continued.

Humanity slowly accepted its rulers. The masses learned to survive beneath the new order. Worship and human sacrifices were commonplace. Cities were rebuilt in accordance to the Salem's will and humanity lived, though it lived beneath the shadow of something that could erase it at any moment.

Salem kept her promise.

That was the part Nicholas could not comprehend. She had not annihilated humanity and had not simply exterminated every living thing.

She had allowed humanity to continue.

The world was cruel. Horribly cruel. People suffered and were hunted like animals. They lived beneath immortal rulers and worshipped beings that should never have been worshipped.

But they lived.

Benevolent?

Cruel?

Tyrannical?

Merciful?

There were countless words that could describe Salem. But promise keeper? That was the horrifying truth.

Salem didn't lie.

Nicholas finally understood what exactly the existence of the Sleeper was.

No.

Perhaps calling her the Sleeper was no longer accurate.

She was the Awakened.

The vision shattered.

.

.

Nicholas was physically wrenched backward from the aura of Knowledge as Tyrian's domain seized control of the surrounding space and dragged him away. His body slammed into the ground, and he immediately coughed blood. Wet tears of crimson streamed from his eyes. Blood poured from his ears and nose, staining his clothing and the floor beneath him.

His eyes had melted into slag.

For several seconds, Nicholas could see nothing. Then, Tyrian raised one hand and a special healing Rune appeared between his fingers and activated.

Warmth flooded Nicholas's body.

The ruined tissue around his eyes reconstructed itself and his blood vessels repaired themselves.

Flesh regenerated.

Even the horrific damage caused by his contact with Knowledge began to disappear.

His brain, however, still felt like it was burning.

It was an absurd sensation. The brain itself possessed no ordinary pain receptors capable of producing such a sensation. Yet Nicholas felt as though someone had poured molten metal directly into his skull.

Knowledge.

Truly a Supreme Rune.

It had supercharged his Foresight beyond anything Nicholas had imagined possible. It had given him knowledge and power, but more importantly, it had connected his Rune to an understanding of time and possibility that had previously been completely beyond his grasp.

Foresight had been pushed directly into Mastery.

Nicholas felt the change inside his soul, a jarring shift as though some invisible mechanism had suddenly clicked into place.

He slowly raised his head.

Tyrian was smiling. The man then produced an imbued Rune from his clothing. Nicholas was able to read it and it said, Truth.

The Rune activated with a faint shimmer.

Its ability was simple.

It could determine whether someone was lying or telling the truth. More importantly, it could detect deliberate misleading, omissions and carefully constructed statements that technically avoided lying while concealing the answer to a question.

Tyrian looked down at Nicholas. His expression was almost cheerful.

"Now then... tell me exactly what you saw. Don't miss a single detail. Understand?"

Nicholas stared at him for several seconds. Then he sighed, still slightly reeling from the vision he had just seen.

"You... you don't need to use it, you know. I'll tell you everything, anyhow."

Tyrian's smile widened.

"Will you? Well... it's always best to take precautions, my dear Nicholas."

Nicholas pushed himself upright. Tyrian was a man that took no chances with his subordinates. It was a wonder he even allowed Nicholas Arc to keep his mind. Perhaps it was emotion. Nicholas was, after all, his first follower.

He began speaking and told Tyrian everything. He described the Keepers, the slaughter, the Dream Realm merging with reality, the barrier in the center of the moon, the four Supreme Runes and their use.

Tyrian's transformation into the Rank 4 Vessel.

The Empyrean Eye, the stars, the beings beyond them, Salem, humanity, his family, the future.

Everything.

And through it all, Truth remained silent.

Tyrian listened and listened, and when Nicholas finally reached the end, neither man spoke for a while.

"Good." Tyrian smiled, voice echoing with Salem's own. "The path forwards is clear."

.

.

Years passed.

Jaune was ten years old.

Nicholas was now at the absolute peak of Rank 1, with both of his Runes having reached the level of Comprehension.

Well.

One of them had gone far beyond that. Foresight had reached Mastery. Insight was the only one that needed to reach comprehension, which it finally did.

And throughout those years, Nicholas had learned something both reassuring and horrifying.

The future he had seen was accurate.

Not perfectly, in every microscopic detail. Small things changed whenever Nicholas interfered. Conversations could shift and people could make different choices.

Events could occur several minutes earlier or later.

But the great things remained. The pillars of the future did not move. The destruction of the world remained. Regardless of the end, Nicholas found that he could alter details. Possibly the only person in the world that could so such a thing.

.

.

One night, Nicholas sat alone upon the rooftop of his house in Ansel. The moon was full and his family slept below.

Nicholas couldn't.

He had long since stopped pretending to himself that he could, though in front of his family, he did.

He stared into the night sky and whispered, "A blood-red, slitted eye that covers the stars, being the only light in perpetual darkness."

The words lingered in the cold air and he lowered his gaze.

"And therein, the Dream covers the world."

Nicholas exhaled slowly.

He felt dirty.

That was the simplest way he could describe it.

Every time he touched Seraphina, every time he kissed his children goodnight, every time he sat at the dinner table and listened to them laugh, something inside him recoiled.

He had begun doing things for Sleepless.

Terrible things.

At first he had told himself that he was simply gathering information. Then he had convinced himself he was protecting his family. Eventually, he had stopped trying to name what he was doing.

After seeing the future, however, he understood. He understood precisely what Sleepless meant and what path he had chosen. That understanding made it almost impossible to look his wife and children in the eyes.

"Am I really doing the right thing?" Nicholas whispered.

No answer came.

"What can I even possibly do to stop such a future?"

He looked toward the moon.

"At least... they're safe."

That was the justification he always returned to. His family would survive even if the rest of the world did not.

.

.

Time continued.

Nicholas became Rank 2.

His understanding of the runes had expanded far beyond the man who had once killed a Beowolf with a broken chair leg.

He created another Rune, his final rune. One he had already seen himself create in the future.

Time.

There was no hesitation.

He had enough understanding of the past and future now to grasp the fundamental principles required to create it. He understood the flow of moments, the relationship between events, the way causality connected one action to another.

Time came naturally. It was almost inevitable.

Tyrian was delighted.

"Your capabilities continue to exceed expectations, Nicholas."

Nicholas said nothing.

The two men were walking through a bustling city in Vacuo, moving between stalls in a crowded bazaar. The dry desert air carried the scent of spices, grilled meat and dust. Merchants shouted over one another while tourists and locals pushed through the narrow streets.

Tyrian walked with his usual relaxed confidence.

The ethereal quality of Salem's voice remained layered beneath it, making every word sound deeper than it should have been. Nicholas could hear that Salem's voice seemed to be even stronger than before.

"Are we here for him?" Nicholas asked.

"Indeed," Tyrian replied. "Hazel Rainart. It's time to bring him into the fold. I think I've been quite accommodating with your delays in regards to Cinder, Carnis and Watts. But he is non-negotiable now. Especially if we want to expand into Vacuo."

Nicholas hummed.

"Fine. But don't puppet him. I can subdue him and convince him to join."

"Very well."

Tyrian glanced toward him.

"Your Foresight... It is truly a frightening Rune to behold now, isn't it?"

Nicholas didn't answer. He knew Tyrian was mocking him and perhaps worse, he knew exactly why.

.

.

Time passed again.

Four individuals stood inside a laboratory filled with machinery.

Arthur Watts was frozen in midair.

Mechanical weapons surrounded him from every direction, massive guns suspended around his armored body. None of them could move, not even an inch.

Time had stopped around them.

Arthur's eyes darted frantically from weapon to weapon before finally settling on Nicholas. Cinder Fall stood nearby and Hazel Rainart stood beside her. Carnis stood a little at the back, looming over the entire scene with his massive frame. And Nicholas sat casually upon empty air, his legs crossed as though he were sitting upon an invisible chair.

Arthur stared at him in horror.

"Now, now, Arthur. Don't be so hasty as to dismiss our offer."

Nicholas waved a hand and time resumed. Arthur immediately dismissed his mechanical constructs and stumbled backward, breathing heavily.

"W-what... do you want me to do?"

Nicholas tilted his head.

"Isn't it obvious? We need your help in creating artificial amalgamations."

Arthur's expression hardened. His eyes narrowed. The man had clearly understood exactly what Nicholas was asking, and he did not like it.

.

.

Years passed.

Nicholas found himself sitting in his living room with his children.

A cartoon played across the television, filled with brightly colored heroes fighting exaggerated villains. Explosions flashed across the screen as the protagonists rescued civilians and declared that justice would always prevail.

Jaune, now twelve, sat directly in front of Nicholas.

He was completely absorbed.

"That guy is awesome," Jaune said, pointing at the television. "Did you see that? He jumped off the building and caught the girl before she fell!"

Nicholas glanced at the screen.

"I saw."

"I want to be like that someday, dad."

Nicholas looked at his son and couldn't help but note that Jaune's eyes were bright.

"You want to jump off buildings?"

"No!" Jaune laughed. "I mean, not that part. I mean the hero part. Saving people, being strong enough that when someone needs help, you can actually do something."

Nicholas gave a small nod.

"That's admirable."

"Right?"

"Probably... yeah."

Jaune leaned closer to the screen.

"I think being a hero would be the coolest thing ever."

Nicholas's eyes remained on his son.

Heroism.

The word echoed strangely inside his mind and his answer came automatically.

"It certainly can be."

Jaune smiled and returned his attention to the television. Nicholas watched the back of his son's head.

Foresight's power had been activate passively. This conversation had already happened multiple times in Nicholas's mind.

The Rune showed him different possibilities depending upon how he might answer. A different response could produce a different conversation and a different tone could produce another. A different choice could create a tiny divergence.

Most conversations were exhausting because of it as his perception of time was no longer linear. He experienced conversations once in the present and again through the possible future.

Yet he never found it tedious with his family.

Those moments were precious, which made this one hurt.

Nicholas looked at Jaune.

Heroism and saving people. Being strong enough to help those who needed it. Nicholas thought about the future he had seen.

He thought about Jaune older.

Immortal, standing beside him while humanity suffered. He thought about his daughters and Seraphina's eyes.

He thought about the Empyrean Eye staring down from the heavens.

Was that truly the future?

Was this what Nicholas Arc was working toward?

Was protecting his family worth condemning everyone else?

He didn't know.

For the first time, Nicholas wondered whether perhaps there was another answer.

Later that night, while everyone slept, Nicholas stood beside Jaune's bed. Moonlight spilled through the window.

His son slept peacefully, completely unaware of the world Nicholas had already seen. Nicholas slowly reached down and placed his hand against Jaune's head.

He gently ran his fingers through his son's blonde hair. For a moment, he saw him as the six-year-old boy who had once chased his sisters through the house.

Then as the toddler who had swung a plastic sword at his father. Then as the baby who had grasped Nicholas's finger as though it were a lifeline.

The thought returned and Nicholas swallowed. His Rune whispered possibilities into his mind. He had power and could alter the future.

Perhaps not the far future and perhaps the great destination remained fixed.

But maybe...

The beginnings of a plan formed within his mind. Nicholas Arc began to think about how to break destiny.

.

.

More years passed and sleepless expanded. Under LUCID's nose, Nicholas and Tyrian slowly spread their organization across the kingdoms.

They established cells and safehouses. Supply routes, infiltration networks and even reserve members.

Thousands of people eventually became connected to Sleepless in one way or another, some knowingly, others without realizing that they were serving something far more dangerous than the organization appeared.

Nicholas became increasingly capable of managing it but his real work happened elsewhere.

He refined his plan.

Again, and again and again.

He drew inspiration from the future he had seen and used that knowledge against the very destiny it had revealed.

He changed operations, moved people, and even removed potential threats.

Nicholas created contingencies, established alternate plans for those contingencies and then created contingencies for those.

Sometimes Nicholas entered the River of Time.

He discovered that Foresight could be pushed even further by physically entering the strange temporal flow surrounding existence.

The River eroded him and every second spent within it damaged something, but Nicholas discovered a rule.

As long as he did not move within the River, he could endure it. So he would enter and stand perfectly still while looking forwards.

Years stretched before him as he searched for the possible future.

He searched for Jaune and searched for the moment when everything changed.

And eventually...

He noticed something...

He could no longer see Jaune in a certain future.

Nicholas stared into that future and there was nothing.

He searched farther yet still nothing.

A chill ran down his spine.

There were only two possibilities.

Jaune Arc had died.

Or...

Jaune Arc had created some sort of special rune. Something that Foresight itself could not see. The second possibility terrified him more than the first did.

Because... it gave him hope.

Perhaps there was a Rune that could change everything. Perhaps there was the Rune. The ultimate Rune.

One whose power was capable of surpassing every other Rune in existence. Capable of breaking the future.

Nicholas began preparing.

.

.

Jaune turned sixteen.

The father and son had moved into a new house in Vale. Nicholas stood over his sleeping son. He had spent years perfecting the Sleepless amalgamation infection.

Artificial awakening had also been perfected.

The early rituals had been crude. The first time Nicholas had been exposed to the Sleeper, Tyrian had needed to summon her consciousness directly, forcing the Sleeper's presence to descend and induce awakening.

It had required preparation and required connection to a Nightmare Zone. It had been dangerous, but Sleepless had improved.

Tyrian had developed rituals that made the process simpler.

Cleaner and vastly more quieter.

Jaune would never even realize what had happened.

Nicholas stared down at his son.

"I'm sorry, Jaune."

He placed his palm gently against the boy's head. Even at sixteen, Nicholas could not stop seeing him as the baby who had once wrapped a tiny hand around his finger.

"If there was another way..." Nicholas whispered.

His voice nearly broke.

"Perhaps things could have been different. This is... a destiny which I'm forcing on you."

He closed his eyes and then activated the ritual.

.

.

Nicholas watched and secretly monitored Jaune's progress within the Dream Realm. He engineered encounters and placed Grimm where they needed to be.

Allowed Jaune to be chased, allowed him to struggle. He created situations that forced Jaune to adapt and there were moments where Nicholas deliberately engineered danger.

Moments where he arranged for Sleepless operatives to intervene.

One such incident involved Jaune and a LUCID operative named Raymond Red. Nicholas had arranged everything, every movement, enemy and apparent coincidence.

They were all puppets dancing along strings Nicholas had placed around them. The only person capable of properly changing the future was Nicholas Arc.

Everyone else remained bound by their destiny.

More incidents followed and more battles were done. These were all to be carefully constructed experiences and lessons that Jaune needed to have.

Then came the confrontation. Nicholas revealed himself to Jaune and that he was Rank 2. He forcibly dragged Jaune into the Dream Realm and explained enough to him to begin the next stage.

Jaune needed to evolve and his mindset needed to change. His Will needed to become sharper than a blade and his power needed to move in the direction Nicholas had determined.

Because Nicholas knew what Jaune needed to become. Without understanding weakness, Jaune could never understand the Weakness Rune. Without experiencing loss, Jaune would never understand what it meant to have something taken away. Without understanding the feeling of something precious being stolen from him, he could never truly comprehend Plunder.

So Nicholas removed his distractions. He froze the rest of the Arc family within a point of time and hid them somewhere safe.

They would remain there, untouched and waiting.

Nicholas continued moving and Sleepless continued growing. Operations expanded and each of the kingdoms became infiltrated.

More members joined.

Yet, Nicholas never forgot about Jaune.

Belmont.

Atlas.

The Shadow Realm.

The Dream Realm.

Every incident became another piece of the plan.

Some were subtle and some were not. Some involved enemies Nicholas personally positioned and others required only a slight alteration of circumstances.

A person arriving five minutes later, a Grimm taking a different path, a piece of information being given to the right person.

A door being left unlocked, a message being intercepted...

Nicholas used pulled at destiny, one string at a time, from every direction.

Nicholas watched his son walk through nightmares that Nicholas himself had constructed. He watched Jaune struggle, suffer and adapt. He watched him learn and become better. All so destiny could break.

He would turn his son into the one variable that the future itself could not predict. He would make Jaune powerful enough to stand against the end. Even if the only way to do it was to become the villain in his son's story.

So the years continued and Jaune...

Grew strong.