---Leon POV---
Once everyone had eaten their fill, I loaded our dishes into the dishwasher and ducked into the bedroom to change into casual clothes. When I came back out, Hertrude, Yumeria, and a half-asleep Hertrauda went in to get dressed next. As we waited around in the living room, Luxion floated over to me.
<If it is alright with you, can the others handle shopping without you today? We have some business on my island that we need to settle. I know you have been putting it off, but we cannot delay any longer. >
I started to answer, but Malcador appearing out of nowhere cut me off.
“My boy, you cannot keep clinging to us old ghosts forever.” His tired eyes looked right into mine. “Our time ended thousands of years ago; this world belongs to the living now, Aremus. Put the past to rest and move toward the tomorrow you promised you would build with your own hands.”
The old man did not leave any room for an argument. Swallowing the knot in my throat, I stood up and gave the girls a weak smile. They caught on right away.
“We will handle everything in town, so go take care of what you need to.” Angelica walked over and wrapped her arms around me. “When you get back, we will go to the ball together.”
Clarice and Deirdre joined in, pulling me into a group hug. Holding onto them, I could not really hide how much this was weighing on me.
“Do not forget, we are always here for you, Leon.” Clarice rested her head against my chest.
Deirdre gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You do not have to put on a brave face for us. We are getting married one day, after all.”
“Thanks, guys.” I gave each of them a kiss, feeling a little lighter. “Solaris, keep an eye on them for me.”
The mechanical raptor gave a sharp nod, then trotted over to bump his snout against my arm to cheer me up.
“I will go with your group, Aremus. You two should handle this alone.” Malcador gave the metal orb a nod. “Try not to bring him back in tears.”
<No promises. >
After saying goodbye to the rest of the group, Luxion and I vanished in a flash of light.
Space bent around us for a second before snapping back into place. We were standing deep inside his island facility, close to where Luxion had been sleeping when I first found him. He had locked this whole section off from the original game route, and the moment I saw it, I understood why.
“Holy shit…” I took in the massive view, my voice trailing off. “Is… is all of this…”
<That is correct. This is the legacy Inan, and I intended to pass onto Valeria, and eventually to your son. This represents the entirety of what we brought from Earth, alongside everything we salvaged from those dimensional portals the New Humans call dungeons. >
All around us, legendary relics from across the ages rested within reinforced display cases, arranged like exhibits in a vast, private museum. I walked between the aisles, trying to wrap my mind around the sheer weight of the inheritance he was laying in front of me. In the wrong hands, plenty of the items in this hall could reduce entire worlds to ash with a thought—or pull one back from the brink of oblivion.
Pausing before one of the pedestals, I lifted a shattered magical blade from its velvet cushion. “I know little about sacred swords, but this one radiates staggering holy power. Is this… the mythical Excalibur?”
<Haha! Keen eye, Leon. That is indeed Excalibur. Inan recovered it after cutting down a boss within a rift somewhere in the Voldenowa Holy Magic Empire. The scabbard remains lost to time, and as you can clearly see, the blade took a beating. Whatever managed to shatter divine steel like that… well, let us hope you never have the misfortune of crossing paths with it. >
Handling it with extreme care, I set the fractured sword back into its cradle and kept moving. As I strolled deeper into the chamber, a distinct, familiar golden shape caught my eye. The polished metal amulet flashed with a faint pulse the moment I looked at it, almost as if it were calling out to me.
<It seems they have noticed you, Leon. Go ahead and pick it up. I am certain they have plenty to discuss with you. >
“Don’t we need to settle our own business first?” My hand hovered over the glass. I hesitated to touch the Eye of Agamotto, fully aware of what kind of baggage came with it.
The metal orb bobbed in a firm shake, nudging my elbow forward to spur me on. Resigned to the inevitable, I slid the case open and closed my fingers around the relic.
The instant my skin made contact with the cool metal, reality bleached into blinding white. My consciousness ripped free of my physical body, soaring upward toward a higher plane. The second my mind anchored onto the other side, thousands of ethereal figures swarmed down from the void in every direction.
Like a chorus of unruly children, they babbled and screamed over one another, all clawing for my attention. Head pounding against the chaotic din, I simply released a crushing wave of telepathic pressure, slamming my psychic aura downward like a hammer. The noise choked off in a split second, the sea of voices dwindling to a pained gasp as the unruly spirits buckled under the weight.
“All of you, hold your tongues and compose yourselves.”
A regal woman draped in flowing silks and golden filigree parted the gathered mystic principalities.
“Forgive their lack of manners, Leon. We have waited for your arrival ever since Odin and the Godheads told us you existed. Tell us, is it true you fought Davoth and know his origins?”
“It is true. I crossed blades with him briefly in the realm we call the Warp.” I gave a firm nod. “I imagine you have plenty of questions about his origins, but before we get into any of that, you should know I am on a tight schedule today.”
Beside her, a man clad in eccentric robes emerged from the shimmering mist, his features veiled beneath the deep shadow of an ornate golden helmet.
“No need to worry. You could spend years in this plane while mere seconds tick by back home. Even so, we will not keep you long. Many of our domains are under active siege, and none of us can afford an extended absence.”
Relieved to hear that, I opened my psychic reservoir and projected my memories outward, blanketing the consciousness of every entity present.
“The best place to start is the beginning of this bloody nightmare. Reed Richards of Earth-1610 arrived in this universe, Earth-6160, and began altering the timeline to fit his personal design…”
I relayed the unfiltered sequence of events exactly as Doctor Doom had disclosed it to me, before shifting into the tragedy of Davoth. Unlike the Godheads, whom I had given a sanitized retelling, I spared this assembly none of the gruesome truth regarding how Jekkad fell from grace and decayed into the burning abyss it had become.
---3rd Person POV---
Shortly after Leon departed, the women were gathering their coats to head out when Malcador asked for a moment of their time. The solemn weight in his voice made it clear this was no passing remark, and they quietly took their seats around the living room. Gesturing for them to get comfortable, the spectral patriarch stepped toward the French doors and looked out over the academy courtyard.
Down below, nobles and servants bustled in organized panic, hauling luggage trunks toward a line of waiting carriages.
“Leon has likely already noticed this, but my spirit is fading faster than expected. At this rate, I will be gone by sunset.” Malcador turned back from the glass, his weathered face etched with quiet sorrow. “Before my presence fades entirely, I wanted to speak with my future daughters-in-law and our extended family. With my time in this world coming to an end, it will fall to all of you—the people my son holds dearest—to keep his heart anchored on the right path.”
The room fell completely still as the women gave him a solemn nod.
“Of course. We have a pretty good idea of what we are signing up for.” Angelica glanced around the room at Clarice, Deirdre, Lucoa, Hertrude, Olivia, Roxanne, and Yunyun, who all returned firm, resolute nods. “We are ready to give him our full support. He might be the prince of an empire out in the stars, but he will always be our Leon.”
“Some of us might not be worthy of standing beside him, but…” Yunyun clutched the fabric of her skirt with both hands. “We will always stand by him, no matter what happens.”
The other women echoed her sentiment, completely confident in their resolve. Yet with every word spoken, the sorrow in Malcador’s eyes only deepened.
“Why do you look so troubled?” Roxanne tilted her head, ears twitching slightly.
“I know each of you loves my son dearly, but Leon is far more than a prince of the Imperium of Man.”
Malcador extended a spectral hand. Before any of them could react, he drew their consciousness smoothly out of their physical bodies, projecting their minds across the void to show them the staggering truth of their commitment.
Around them, a shimmering astral projection of the galaxy unfurled across endless space. Millions of star clusters burned in brilliant hues, stretching far beyond the horizon. Awe swept through the women as they gazed upon the celestial expanse, several reaching out instinctively toward the radiant points of light.
Then the rumble began.
Faint at first, a low hum vibrated through the astral projection, swelling rapidly into a deafening tidal wave of sound. Before their senses could adjust, trillions upon trillions of voices crashed down upon them all at once.
The cacophony of desperate cries, weeping, and frantic prayers collided in a relentless roar, making it impossible to single out a solitary thought. Yet the raw agony behind the noise was unmistakable: an ocean of terror, misery, and sheer despair, all pleading into the dark for someone—anyone—to save them.
“What is this…” Olivia’s face turned white as sheet linen, the distant weeping of children cutting through the static into her heart. “Are these… your people?”
Malcador closed his hand, smothering the psychic clamor back into silence. “As best I can tell, the Imperium of Man now encompasses between five and six quintillion souls. What you just endured is but a fraction of what Leon’s biological father, the Emperor of Mankind, hears every second of every passing day. When we first built the Imperium, the Emperor strictly forbade any form of worship. Yet in this fractured era, his subjects revere him as the God-Emperor.”
Confusion washed over most of the women, struggling to process numbers and concepts that defied reality. Only one of them understood the political and theological nightmare behind those words.
Hertrude’s expression set like carved granite.
“The man we are standing beside is not merely a prince,” Hertrude whispered, her voice unyielding. “In the eyes of his people, he is the Son of God. By wedding him, we would be binding ourselves to a living deity. Half their civilization would brand us heretics for daring to lay hands upon holy flesh, while the rest would venerate us as sacred relics.”
With a quiet flick of his fingers, Malcador released their minds, returning them gently to their bodies in the quiet living room.
“You are mostly correct, Hertrude.” Malcador swayed on his feet, his ethereal projection trembling from the immense psychic toll of the projection. “When Leon, the Forgotten Son of the Emperor, returns to the Imperium of Man, people will flock to him by the billions. Knowing his father, the Emperor will reveal, in his own way, who Leon is and lay bare the unfathomable burden he has shouldered for us all. He will carve a path for Leon to return and finish what we started.”
“This… this is a lot to take in…” Yunyun shifted uncomfortably, clutching her robes as panic flared in her eyes. “I… I do not know if I am worthy enough to—”
Malcador raised a gentle hand, staying her words. Stepping forward, he placed a warm, reassuring palm atop her head.
“Your worth is something only you can decide, child. Never let the galaxy dictate it for you.”
His knees bent, sinking to the carpet before them as he bowed his head low.
“Hear me. I do not ask any of you to carry his burdens; doing so would destroy you, just as it destroyed me. What I ask is far simpler, yet infinitely more vital: when my son grows weary, when his spirit aches from the weight of worlds, be there to ease his pain. Stand beside him. Remind him of who he is. Without you… I fear he will become just like the Emperor—isolated behind an impenetrable wall, closed off from everyone, even those who love him.”
Without hesitation, the women knelt and reached out, wrapping their hands around his fading arms to help him back to his feet. The sheer terror of cosmic destiny washed away, replaced by absolute clarity. Leon did not need them to wield celestial power or bear five quintillion souls; he needed them to be his anchor when the storm raged, guarding the gentle heart he kept hidden beneath his armor.
“Rest easy, Father.” Clarice offered a warm, steady smile. “We will always stand by Leon. No matter how far he travels or what battles he fights, he will always have a warm home waiting for him at the end of the day.”
“Thank you.” Malcador smiled, his projection stabilizing slightly under their touch. “My son certainly has an eye for remarkable women. If his mother were still among the living, I know all of you would have found a dear friend in Erda. He never realized it, but Leon was her most cherished child. Everything he embodied, everything he fought to protect… it brought her endless joy to call him her son.”
“While we walk, can you tell us more about Erda and the rest of Leon’s family?” Lucoa gently guided the old man toward the doorway, a sly grin playing across her lips. “We want to know everything you are willing to share. Especially any dirt we can use to keep his brothers in check later.”
Malcador flashed a thoroughly mischievous smile. He had no objections to spilling every scrap of petty gossip he possessed, down to the Primarchs’ most humiliating blunders. Whenever those demigod boys eventually caught wind of his treason, they would likely howl with rage—but seeing as he was already dead, what were they going to do about it?
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