"…Done. Thank you for your cooperation."
Lucifer's voice finally broke the silence, pulling Pallez from his memories. He looked at the refined Alaric man before him, one of the last remnants of his lineage, and asked, "May I know what it'll be used for?"
"I can't share specifics, only that it's for something significant," Alaric replied with a smile.
"Good enough," Pallez said, his smile tinged with relief. "At least I'm not entirely useless and can still help you."
Alaric glanced at him, understanding the sentiment. Pallez hadn't fully shaken off the sorrow, and his instinct to make amends for his Zoroast kin stirred. Alaric felt no guilt... he'd done plenty for his ancestor... so he simply asked, "Do you remember Mobet?"
"You know Mobet?" Pallez's eyes widened.
Mobet Zoroaster, a Zoroast family member who vanished in the Fourth Epoch, was deeply cherished by Pallez, close enough in blood to be considered a great-grandson.
"He's alive, though in rough shape. He may not last long," Alaric said, meeting Pallez's gaze. He briefly explained Mobet's situation, concluding, "If you want to save him, contact The Fool. They'll reach out when the time's right."
The Fool's contact wasn't secret to Pallez, who'd witnessed the City of Silver affair.
"…I understand. Thank you," Pallez nodded, recognizing this as payment for providing the emotion of sorrow. He hadn't planned to ask for reward, but he couldn't refuse this one.
With what he needed, Alaric didn't linger. He bid farewell and left for one of his safehouses.
Humming a tune, he cleaned a beaker and prepared the materials, then took a deep breath to concoct the "Disciple of Delight" potion.
With a flick of his hand, the main material appeared. As he grasped it, knowledge flooded his mind, and he understood how to use the abstract auxiliary material.
He placed the "Disciple of Delight" characteristic into the beaker, then produced a vial holding Antigonus's tear of joy. Uncorking it, he let a drop fall onto the characteristic.
The moment it touched the strange, pearlescent white substance, a transformation began. The solid turned liquid, bubbling in the beaker and shifting to a deep crimson.
Alaric watched, expression steady, as he raised his hand. Two colors gathered in his palm... one a deep, misty black, the other a blue-tinted droplet.
These were the embodied memories of despair and hope.
Without a gesture, the colors flowed into the crimson potion. In an instant, countless hues bloomed within, not blinding but breathtakingly beautiful.
Alaric lifted the "Disciple of Delight" potion and downed it in one go.
This ascension felt unlike any before. No familiar chaos, no tug from his true self. Only calm and emptiness enveloped him.
As if the world held no meaning, Alaric's will drifted in an endless white void, devoid of drive or thought, sensing only peace and nothingness.
Yet he didn't resist. It felt familiar, as if long ago, he'd existed in this void, quietly observing the world's unfolding.
Just as he nearly surrendered to the emptiness, a burst of color appeared, seizing his attention.
Instinctively, he reached for it. Joy, despair, and hope crashed over him, startling him. As the emotions overwhelmed him, his own memories and feelings resurfaced.
In that moment, Alaric grasped the meaning of the "Disciple of Delight" potion's abstract materials. The Celestial Worthy and Nyarlathotep shared a mystical link, so the angels of the Error, Fool, and Door pathway were tied to him, their emotions... joy, despair, sorrow... capable of influencing him through this symbolism.
Voices filled his ears, chaotic and overlapping, nearly indistinguishable.
But Alaric listened intently. Some prayed to him with gratitude, others cursed him with venom, and some merely spoke of him with awe.
These were the people of the Rose School affair, those whose fates he'd altered, those who loved or loathed him.
Their existence, their voices, their emotions filled the white void, shattering the silence and replacing nothingness with presence.
Alaric smiled, understanding the hurdle of his demigod ascension. It wasn't external interference but the void within himself.
The ritual and materials were meant to counter this emptiness.
His eyes opened in the real world.
"Finally…" Alaric exhaled, setting down the beaker with a heartfelt smile. "I'm a demigod!"
Even for Alaric, reaching Sequence 4 Disciple of Delight was cause for joy.
After a moment of elation, he eagerly explored the abilities granted by the potion.
His spirituality surged dramatically, a greater leap than any prior advancement. His previous abilities strengthened as expected... his "Rule Lore" ability now required fewer conditions, and his "Avatara" ability's ceiling rose to Sequence 1, among others.
Most prior abilities saw enhancements in strength, conditions, or usage limits, though no new derivative skills emerged this time.
What intrigued Alaric most, however, was the core ability of "Disciple of Delight."
***
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