The Shadow Paradigm: Doomsday - Chapter 19

The stars were slowly appearing in the sky as Tom, Madzistrale and Gabzryel sat upon the soft grass, their mouth open as Anazryel finished her incredible story.

“Now you know how you are here,” the 12th Queen concluded.

“One thing that I don't understand, if I may,” Madzistrale shyly asked.

“Of course.”

“If these people are that dangerous, why can't you interfere yourself? You seem powerful enough...”

“I am. It is for that exact reason that I cannot interfere. At least, not directly,” Anazryel explained. “Because of my father Myzryel's Treaty, my people are not allowed to directly interfere within a civilization. We cannot ourselves stop their wars, or tell them what to do. For such a control can easily lead to slavery.”

“And yet… you are asking us to interfere… Isn't that interfering?” Madzistrale replied, puzzled.

“Not quite,” Anazryel answered with a proud smile. “Right now, I am merely giving you informations of what is happening, and I am merely telling you how you could stop it. You are however free to return to your world and not help. It is not your world after all, and even if it would be, you have the free will to refuse fighting. I am not interfering, because you alone decide if you listen to me or not, if you yourselves interfere or not. That is how the Treaty was formulated. We can't interfere in a civilization, but we can ask this civilization to help itself.”

The explanation slowly sank in the minds of the heroes.

“Let me give you an example,” Anazryel continued, thinking quickly. “On your world, you believe in two forces, one good and one evil. God and Satan. Do you believe in God or in Satan because either of them came down and forced you to believe in them, or were you exposed to the two beliefs systems, and you decided which one you preferred, which one rang true in your being?”

The heroes nodded in understanding.

“Same thing here. I do not wish to persuade you or influence you to fight here. I have merely been aware of your inclinations to do good, and wished to warn you of a possible threat. Whether you believe in my words and follow them, or dismiss them, is your choice alone. I am thus not interfering.”

Tom, Madzistrale, and Gabzryel looked at one another with the same thought: did they believed her. The silent answer was quickly an undeniable yes.

“What about these guys?” Gabzryel nodded toward the glass towers of the city below them. “You say that they are influenced by your enemies...”

“Indeed, but from their own will,” Anazryel answered, her fair features furrowing in sadness and regret. “They chose to accept their conquerors and to help them. There is no interfering here. Just a couple of right persons believed in such a path, and it gives this result.”

“What about the citizens? They can't all possibly agree to an invasion?” Madzistrale wondered in surprise.

“It depends if they are told the truth,” Tom replied gloomily. “Think about it, Mad. How well do you actually know what is happening in the world? All you are exposed is what a few persons decide to tell you; how would you know if there is something else going on?”

“And give the population someone enough convincing, and they won't even think to look deeper,” Gabzryel added. “How many leaders have our own people followed blindly? How many horrors could have been averted had people doubted the “charisma” and the “good words” of their leaders?”

“Can't you convince the people here?” Madzistrale asked Anazryel.

“We are trying the best we can. Remember that we can't urge for action; it must come from the person itself. In addition, you have… advantages over the people here. Few enemies that can't be killed gets more work done than an entire army.”

“I never quite knew what does happen if we die here,” Gabzryel asked.

"Your body does not belong to this realm. The only result of your death here will be you waking up in your original world. But you won't be able to return here; the link has been severed. Imagine two balls, linked with a thread. If you cut the thread at one extremity, the thread will still be linked to the other extremity. But now, the thread can't be linked again to the other ball. If we now use this example, before the thread had been cut, something could have moved along it between the two balls. Now the thread is cut, the bridge is non-existent. Some are strong enough, though, to resist "dying". Their "thread" is stronger; you can weaken it, but not cut it fully; or if yes, it takes time and strenght. That is no reason however to be careless. In most cases, you can afford to die in a dream. But during a mission, it is best to avoid dying, because then you won't be able to return to that mission."

"You seem to talk as if we accepted the mission," Gabzryel joked.

"You had already accepted the night you decided to return here; or else you would be waking up right now."

"Well, we officially accept; it might help us for our own world," Tom replied.

"It will help. What is happening in this world also happens in countless other worlds, at varying rate and danger. Two forces constantly battles one another, across time, space, and worlds. It is an inevitable battle for all."

"Will stopping it here make any difference?" Madzistrale asked, worried.

"It always does. Even if for a short time. But after victories after victories, we stand a chance to reverse the damages."

"Beside, we were looking for a battle simulation," Tom reasoned.

"Are we the only ones that can do... what we're doing?" Madzistrale asked, nervous.

"No," Anazryel laughed softly, as if the mere thought was funny. "Every beings (well, almost every beings) are capable of such travels, at different depth and level. In your own world, I am sure you have reports of apparitions, glitches, mysterious people appearing and disappearing, anything having to do with temporal glitches."

The heroes nodded, remembering some of Gabzryel's old files on such mysteries. She rose to her feet, and looked toward the stars.
"I have to go now. If you need help, don't hesitate to ask me."

"How?" Madzistrale wondered.

"He'll know," Anazryel winked at Gabzryel. "Oh, I realized you asked that before-last question in a literal manner... Yes, there is one other MUT beside you in this world specifically, in an active and direct relation to the nature of your mission."

“So how do we bring this… Shadow, as you call it, down?” Madzistrale asked, worried.

Anazryel merely smiled, kindly:
“You alone must find such a way. I have told you as much as the Treaty allows me.”

Upon that, she disappeared before their eyes. The heroes looked at one another.
“Well… shall we start?”

“You guys go ahead, I'm waking up; someone has to look after you,” Gabzryel replied, annoyed to have been forcefully taken away from his post. “Beside, I think I have passed the time where I need to take my meds...”

Madzistrale and Tom looked at each other, amused, and started climbing down the hill as their eccentric friend disappeared behind them. The feeling of doing something important this time was burning in their soul, and they were determined.

“But first, let's find a motel,” Madzistrale suddenly suggested. Tom realized that she was right, for it was night and entrance to the Capitoline would be closed at this hour.



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