"Alright," I said, the word simple and final. "I'll help you. What do you need me to do?"
There was no grand speech, no heroic declaration. Just a quiet acceptance of the only path forward left in our doomed world. The Author had written himself into a corner, and the only way out was to burn the page. "How far along are we to the bottom? Wait, if the mountain is so high, how did everybody get up here?"
Theron looked at me in confusion before answering. "Did you forget? The path is blessed by the Venerable One, it ensures that any pilgrim who walks it doesn't run out of energy. Don't think about using it to fight though, standing in the open will only get us killed quicker than in here.
As for your other question...maybe four-fifths or just slightly less. Thankfully, the Radiance's power does not depend on the Rank of its user: it will apply the same power for a Dormant as it will a Transcendent. It's just the former will die after only a few minutes. Its' fuel is faith, devotion and emotions, not soul essence. The one silver lining, I suppose."
Now that was interesting. A Supreme-level Echo that could be used by anyone, even if only for a tiny period of time, so long as your heart was strong enough. The value of such a thing was astronomical, but I could all to easily see it turned into a sacrificial basin, lives thrown into the grinder to fuel it.
No wonder Theron was so loathe to use it, or even acknowledge its presence. I wondered darkly, just how much blood had been spilled for it over the years.
"I will talk with the most determined, the most brave" I promised, standing up from the chair. Theron sagged in his own, face both relieved and ashamed. "Thank you, Adam. It is shameful of me to shirk this duty, but I cannot bring myself to ask them to die for me, even if I know it's their duty. In the end, perhaps you're right: I am a coward."
"You are no such thing" I denied firmly, placing my hands on the table and leaning forward. "I have seen many men in my life Theron, and you are amongst the best of them. You would rather be hurt than hurt others, and while this can be a fatal flaw at times, it by no means makes you weak. I
t is simply another side of the coin that is strength. You tried your best with the options available to you, and perused a method I didn't even think of."
Digging out of the mountain? Never even crossed my mind. The thought was ludicrous for someone who lived in the 21st Century only four weeks ago.
Theron gave a pained smile as he looked up at me. "Thank you, Adam. I knew it was a good idea to allow you to join the temple."
I looked at him, puzzled. "You had a feeling about me?"
"Yes. I can't explain it, but I felt you were wiser beyond your years. And those eyes...those were the eyes who had seen untellable horrors. I know them well. My teacher held the same gaze many a time."
I took a breathe and then bowed to Theron before leaving his office. The fact I had revealed a bit of myself during our first meeting wasn't surprising, given my inexperience and lingering panic over the vision.
That didn't matter now though. Now, I had to convince the people I had roughly come to consider friends to offer up their lifeblood to a divine artifact gone rogue and buy time for the several hundred trapped civilians to escape with Theron.
I found Jeryl first. He was in the barracks, meticulously cleaning his gear, his face set in lines of frustration from the earlier confrontation. I didn't soften the blow. I told him everything—the Radiance, the tunnel, the true cost. His blunt, honest nature deserved nothing less.
He listened in silence, his hands stilling on his weapon. When I finished, he looked past me, toward the temple walls, as if he could see the mountain itself. "Oblivion," he muttered, the word I'd heard him use before now taking on a horrifyingly concrete meaning.
He was silent for a long moment, then he nodded, a single, sharp jerk of his head. "If that's the price for getting the children out, then I'll pay it. My life was given to this temple. It's fitting it ends for it."
His simple, unwavering faith was a powerful catalyst. With Jeryl at my side, we gathered the others. We didn't go to the main hall. We sought out the individuals—the young priests with fire in their eyes who craved purpose, the guards whose frustration had hardened into a desperate need to act, to mean something.
I didn't manipulate or lie anymore, no deceits or ulterior meaning loaded behind my words. I presented the brutal calculus. I showed them the mountain Theron had been trying to move alone.
I told them about the black tide swarming towards us, mixing my own vision with what Theron and Karion had described. Surprisingly, the others took it better than I expected. They saw it not as death, but as the final, greatest prayer for their God.