I. Pivotal Beginnings

“Ah, why do they say mankind anyway? We are not all the manly kind, are we? No, no we are most certainly not.” This was all spoken in a heavy accent by the younger of the scientists within this particular lab. There were no smiling faces from his humor. Regardless, he blessed the silent room with that youthful laughter.

“That is quite enough, Jovich,” spoke the fiery-haired woman which the young man stood near. “One would think you would have at least some sense of respect around such company, mind what it is we are in the midst of completing here.” She was also young, though not as much so as her ridiculous assistant. All the joking aside, the young man was indeed the prodigy of the great minds present. Alas, for the time being, he was only trusted with the safekeeping of the tools which were used by each in perfecting the mass laid out before them all.

It rested much like any person would, upon a bed. The courtesy of plush cushion was not necessary and thus sacrificed for the straps of strong, reinforced metal alloys which were tightened about the limbs of the odd creation. It was a mere shell of what was to come to being. At least, that was the theory. If all was to work, they were to be known forever for what rested before them. Though, she was certain there were many who would curse it as blasphemy. Such insignificant matters were easily ignored. The world was in a time of need. The people were in a time of desperation. Life was degenerating. If it were allowed to continue, it was prophesized by those knowledgeable in such matters, that chaos would consume the world. Thus did they begin their irreverent mission. Had the world known of their intentions from the beginning, they would have been raised by their necks long ago.

Their area of study supposedly focused primarily on artificial life. It was in the last several years that their work changed so drastically. They were not, by any means, secular people. No, in fact they were rather devout believers in the existence of God. It was in such a belief that they decided to begin this project. The project was designed to save the world from itself. Believers would find peace from the madness bred from those corrupt. The innocent would remain forever so, untainted by the world decaying with filth around them.

“It is coming along quite well, don’t you think, Dr. Estheim?” asked the young lab assistant, Jovich, as the group began to disperse. Work was put on a pause for now. However, it was easy to tell that there was not much left to be done for the project’s completion. Curious eyes looked from the woman, about the room, then back to her again. He made certain the others, especially the head scientist, Dr. Vitzeckes, were not nearby. When he confirmed the man’s absence within the immediate vicinity, he no longer waited for the woman’s answer to his question. He knew there would not be one anyway. “God. Do you believe it is male or female?”

Finally the woman faced her young assistant. Her expression appeared irate initially, but then it seemed her logical mind came to ponder his question as she surveyed his timid reaction to her moves. “Perhaps the better question, little Jovich, is if there is one at all,” she suggested. “There is a great margin for error in this. Could one exist? It is possible it does not. Does our Dr. Vitzeckes in fact know how to do what he presumes to? Maybe he does not.”

“Maybe. It is possible. Such unsure words, my lady!” Jovich sang out merrily. He was not all too surprised when his burden of assorted tools were snatched away, one by one, by her hands. The manner in which she moved now was rather rigid. He knew he struck a nerve. Or was the saying a chord? He merely shook his head back and forth. “Now, now. I do not question the religion. Beliefs are the one truth, yes? They are true always for that person. Real or not, it does not matter. It is real enough, yes? We do what we do now, so it has to be.”

“You spend too much time here. Do you not have somewhere else to go, little Jovich?” Estheim finally found herself asking as she sanitized the tools so that they would be placed away. Truly, she should have asked the young man why he was not doing his job, but was it not she who stole the tools from him? Yes, yes it was.

“Should I have? If I had a better place to be, why would I be in this place at all? Should I not enjoy my time with such brilliant minds, my lady?” He was no freeloader, not at all. Thus, he found himself at the beautiful Dr. Estheim’s side to assist her in what was originally his clean-up duty. “Project Judgment. We are such very pretentious people, are we not?” The young man smiled as he asked such a question.

She supposed he did not intend to sound so harsh. Though, sometimes she had to wonder. All the same, she found herself becoming rather accustomed to his straight-forward statements and inquiries. There was once a day when they caused her to glare and falter. She would rage or perhaps be taken aback. Now, she merely stared after the young man who cleaned at steel utensils previously used upon the framework of that important creation. “It is sometimes hard to distinguish genius from outright heresy. Maybe there is no difference between the two at all. No, they are likely even identical.”

Her control would at last waver, however, when that boyish laughter filled the near-vacant room.

“Do you care to share your amusement with me?” Estheim asked. She almost always felt rather insulted when he did such things. What was it that she said that he found so funny? She had merely answered his question.

“We are mad. You speak of heresy, my lady, with the voice of an angel. We do the work of makers when we are the creations! We plan to trap God himself. We plan to force something that will make everything nothing. We are monsters then, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Estheim found herself replying through gritted teeth. That laughter rang out again. She had half the mind to bludgeon the young man with the nearest heavy object. Alas, the tools they were now saving away were light, delicate things. Also, she would not risk contaminating them with his blood so soon after a thorough cleaning. “I do not find your mockery of my words attractive, Jovich.”

“Attractive!!” Jovich practically gasped out the word. His hands would have flown to the air in his defense, yet that would endanger the priceless equipment. The enraged woman would surely have his head then. He knew she could. Some of the tools were quite dangerously sharp, after all. Yet, as the young man spied upon the lovely Estheim, he spied the faintest glow of crimson rising up to her cheeks. “My lady!" Jovich exclaimed. His heavy accent shined through every word he spoke next. His lips pursed before the sight of the young woman’s infuriated countenance. "Exactly what is it you are accusing me of?”

He should have expected the reaction which followed his teasing. The last of the utensils were shoved towards him. Thankfully, he was somehow not impaled or otherwise maimed beyond recognition as the beautiful Dr. Estheim stormed from the lab. Left in the relative silence of the laboratory, he leaned back upon his heels. Grey eyes would spy this way and that carefully before he deducted that he was truly left on his own. The halls were likely empty as well. Few wanted to be within that woman’s path right now. The only one who remained was no stranger to his peculiar ways. Besides, it was likely the good doctor had already locked himself away to study the new data from the project.

The last of the equipment was thus saved safely away to their rightful places by careful, gloved hands. When all was done, did he find himself before the assigned location for disposal of used gloves. However, he did not then follow routine to then leave the laboratory as all others had. He might have toyed with the woman, but he had his reasons. For one, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure of meeting in this chaotic world. Another reason was that the conversation was equally as desirable. Though it always ended in such a fiery aftermath, he found the dialogue intriguing. He supposed he had his own curiosity and stubbornness to blame.

Polished footwear clicked upon the solid, cold floor. He found himself before the door which sealed away the creation, the product of what he believed were the greatest minds of the age. His hand raised, fingertips daring to graze inches before the etched plate found at the door. “Judgment," he read out the engraved word. "What horrors await with your approaching completion, I wonder? Or is it perhaps the peace and beauty of an end that you will bring? The horrors are those are the things you are meant to end, ya? Indeed. You will end it all, won’t you?”

The world they lived in was indeed one filled with such horrors. Death haunted just around the corner of their everyday lives. No one was spared. Despite much research, no cure could be found for what disease began to steal away countless lives at random. Some whispered that it was the world itself that became angry and had, at last, retaliated against mankind. In the beginning, Vitzeckes's goal had been much the same as any other in their time. They were all hoping for an end to the strange disease slowly overtaking mankind. However, that plan changed when one scientist did discover one possible way for mankind to survive the epidemic: Rebirth. One of the scientists working alongside Vitzeckes discovered a manner in which to capture the human spirit within the core of a mecha's body. The salvation of mankind was within reach, or so they thought. However, God had different plans for their work.

When talk first began of Vitzeckes's strange premonition that he was to bring Judgment forth into the world, none of the team questioned the man. Instead, work on Project Judgment began. Rebirth was all but abandoned. It was not their place to play God, Vitzeckes had explained. Instead, God gave him guidance in how to use their knowledge to bring forth the proper solution to the world's attack. Judgment would come forth to cleanse the world, beckoned forth by the hand of man himself.

Judgment was their secret project. None were to learn of it. Already, Rebirth had caused much controversy within the populace. There were many who wished to send their loved ones through the process. Still, there were many more who deemed it a damnable. They believed it was not right to trap the human soul, even if it meant saving that person from certain death. Thus, while the world believed Rebirth was their only project, they instead began work on Judgment. Rebirth was not the proper path, Vitzeckes assumed. However, at least one of Vitzeckes's colleagues found themselves disagreeing with such logic. The man had been so very trusted by Vitzeckes, he had been named the godfather of his only child. It was when the child suddenly fell ill, diagnosed with the same fatal disease plaguing many, that the two men fell into heated arguments. Why would God curse the child of the man who planned to bring about Judgment? The answer was clear in Tsalvin’s mind. God did not want this plan. God did not agree with their work. Judgment was not the proper solution. Rebirth was the answer.

Years had passed since that falling out between the two. Vitzeckes’s trusted colleague and friend had left Project Judgment. However, Tsalvin could not simply stand about idly whilst Vitzeckes’s team aimed to unleash Judgment onto the planet. Those years were thus spent wisely. With the very technology that he created which assisted Vitzeckes and the others on Project Judgment, he had managed to work what some considered miracles and others considered damnations.

Diseased children were not a rare occurrence. Even less rare were those who were abandoned due to fear of contagions. Such children did not last. Tsalvin began his venture, at first, in attempt to save those dying youths using the rebirthing process. They needed only willpower and dna. Unfortunately, few seemed to take to the procedure. Even fewer were able to persist long enough for complete synchronization with the mecha body. Then there were two, and only two, who survived the process when he began to think the entire concept was hopeless.

“Father, why do they all say such things?” the younger of the pair asked one evening, away from the laboratory. The simple question called for the attention of more than just Tsalvin, of course. The elder child as well turned his attention towards their guardian.

The younger one was always the more inquisitive of the two. “What do you mean, Horatia? What such things?” asked Tsalvin patiently.

“On the news. They always talk about the bad things happening all over. They seem happy when they talk about it. Then, there’s others that say the world is going to end because we allow bad things to happen.” Those tiny brows furrowed so delicately in her concentration. “Are we supposed to do good things to make the bad things go away? If we do good things, does that make all the disease go away?”

“No way, Horatia. Don’t be stupid,” the young boy answered crudely.

Tsalvin immediately shook his head. He was never so strict, but he found he did not need to be when it came to them both. “Now, now. Noah. Horatia has made an excellent point. The media, the news and everything else on the television, would like you to believe you should change all that you do for the good of the world. Why is it that you think it is strange, Horatia? Do not think it is silly. Share your thoughts, please.”

The young girl pursed her lips. She felt the heat at her cheeks still from the embarrassment caused from Noah’s teasing. But, if their father said it was okay to share, then she did not want to remain quiet. “Why have we ever changed at all? Why did we ever do things that made the planet angry? I .. I mean..,” she trailed off. She was uncertain how to further explain her thoughts.

“You are asking why is it that we do not take better care of the world before it ever was in trouble. Why do we need the planet dying to ask for us to treat it better. Correct?” Tsalvin asked softly of the young child. It was a difficult conversation, but she was an exceptional girl for many reasons.

Horatia nodded her head up and down in answer. “Yes, sir.”

“Because people don’t care about the stupid planet. You know, your T.V doesn’t run on flowers and rainbows, Horatia,” Noah teased.

The young girl stared, wide-eyed after the older boy. “The T.V? It hurts the planet?”

“It does use resources, I’m afraid,” Tsalvin answered.

It was sudden that the television screen turned black. The power had been cut off. Though the controller was held within Tsalvin‘s hand, he had not been the individual to press the proper button. In fact, it seemed that the cord had been unplugged entirely by an unseen force. The young girl sat upon the floor seemed to have been displaced by a mere inch.

“Why‘d you do that!? Horatia! I know you did it!” Noah pointed accusingly after the young girl. “I wanted to watch the late night shows!!”

As much anger as Noah held within him, it quickly diminished as he caught sight of the young girl. They were not real siblings. Tsalvin was not their real father. He was a clever man and deemed it best that they knew of their origins as soon as possible. It was for this reason that he knew that Horatia was the culprit who unplugged the television. He also was aware that other children typically did not have such gifts. It was a gift bestowed on them within their new bodies given to them by Tsalvin on their death day.

Even if they were not true siblings, Noah cared for Horatia. Thus, as he spied the girl sobbing into her knees, his anger dwindled away to a cold, disgusting feeling within his stomach. “No. Hey. Horatia, don’t cry… Why are you crying?” The boy vacated his seat next to Tsalvin in order to kneel at the young girl’s side.

“I…I don’t want to watch it anymore,” came the sudden whispered voice from the young brown-haired girl.

It was a hard blow to take, Tsalvin was sure. He was about ready to open his mouth and assume the role of mediator between the pair. Noah cherished his late night shows. It was a bit much for Horatia to force her views on the entire household. Besides, without the television, there would be no morning forecast to foretell the necessary outerwear for the day. Yet, he found himself interrupted before he could even start.

“Ok… Ok. We don’t have to watch the stupid T.V then. Are you happy now?” The boy glowered even as he spoke such words of his offered sacrifice.

Horatia eventually peeked over her knees. Hazel eyes were marked red in their whites from her fierce tears. There was a pause where she stared at the boy in what was likely complete utter disbelief. “What about all the other bad things? I don’t want the planet to go away.”

Noah stared after the girl, speechless. “I don’t think I can make all the bad go away, Horatia.” Yet, he regretted those words as soon as they left his lips. He could spy the beginnings of new tears within her eyes. Her lips trembled. Quickly did he grip to her arms and shake his head until their foreheads knocked together. “I’ll make all the bad things go away, Horatia. The planet won’t go away. Promise. But you‘ll have to help out too.”

The young girl nodded her head immediately. Sniffling, she spoke up, “I will help!”

And so was born Project Rapture. It was a simple promise between children. Tsalvin could foresee the promise within it. The two were not normal children. They held the blood of aristocrats, seemingly enhanced by the process used to save them. It had not been his intention to use the pair in such a manner as they seemed to device on their own accord. Yet, it was indeed a plan he could not ignore. The two wanted to rid the world of all things bad. They wanted to do it because they wanted the world to stay. The wretched Project Judgment finally had something to fear, right beneath its nose. It was only a wonder he had not thought of it before.

“Oh my. What is the saying? Time passes by quickly when one is having fun, yes?” Jovich broke the silence as the scientists gathered around the sealed chamber collecting data. There was not much left to do these days. The project was nearing completion. The skin cells were forming nicely. There was even hair and other defining features upon it! “Ah, but the suspense is killing me.”

“If only that were so, Jovich. If only that were so,” murmured one voice. It was not at all Estheim’s who spoke out such towards the man, however. The other scientist could not help but to grin as his remark birthed a bit of quiet chuckling from the team. 

“Ambrose..,” Estheim was overheard cautioning the man guilty of teasing their young lab assistant. A severe look was thus offered his way.

Unfortunately, neither the insult nor the pity placed upon him seemed to have been noted by the young man scrutinizing the fogged glass of the chamber. “Maybe today is the day. It feels like I have asked this but only yesterday!”

“But you have,” Ambrose found himself mumbling out again, despite the harsh blow of Estheim’s clipboard against his back.

Vitzeckes had already finished surveying the progress. Though the others might have been unaware, he found himself taking notes instead on their own interactions about the chamber. They were a rather amusing bunch, after all. Estheim always defending her assistant, Ambrose constantly causing a bit of trouble concerning the two, and Jovich’s ceaseless, impatient inquiries. While the others might have thought the young man bothersome, he was capable of making excellent observations. In fact, was it not nearly time to promote the poor man from his station? How many years had it been since he arrived and practically begged, in a mixture of old language and new, for the job as their team’s assistant? It was his connection with the young man which kept him unpromoted for such a long time. Vitzeckes did not want to be accused of playing favorites among those he considered his peers, despite the fact that Jovich was indeed not a stranger even prior to his involvement in the project.

It was rather sudden that their not-so-diligent work was interrupted by the abrupt shrill over their heads. It was terribly loud, enough so that they all instinctively gripped their hands over their ears. Estheim found herself ducking into someone’s arms which gripped about her. Ambrose hissed and looked around, confused for the source of the noise. There were only mere seconds which passed before they felt the floor jolt up beneath their feet. There was a sound, low beneath that of the shrilling alarms, that seemed timed to the movement.

“Protective wear. Now.” Vitzeckes ordered the team. For those who did not seem to hear him, did he wave them in the proper direction. As they all flooded towards the closets containing the protective suits, he found himself lingering near the chamber. Out of the corner of his eyes, he took note of the dangerous shades of blue, orange, and red. The halls outside their laboratory were ablaze. He knew that soon that fire would eat its way into the room. There would not be enough suits for them all.

Estheim was surprised as those arms which steadied her began to pull her along with them. “I… what is..,” she stammered out. She could hardly hear her own voice over the din. People were screaming beyond their room. Angry voices fought with one another nearby. Still, those arms held her close, hidden away against a flat chest. She listened, as that chest rumbled with the deep, thick accent which spewed forth its choice native words, and a bit of a tussle was given for something or another. Eventually, she was at last pried away and a bulk of something was pressed to her chest.

“Hurry. We haven’t much time, my lady,” Jovich announced as he already began pulling himself into the protective suit.

She felt that she moved without thinking. Even as she meant to protest his words, she found herself doing just as he said. She could spy the flames eating away at the door. Like some sort of terrifying creature, it was finding its way inside slowly but surely. It seemed that as soon as she secured the suit shut about her body, Jovich pulled her onward by her wrist. Their journey was short lived. They made it only as far as the chamber before they both stopped simultaneously in their flight towards the emergency exit.

“Now is the time to run, Dr. Vitzeckes.” Jovich announced to the seemingly stunned man who remained at the chamber. The man did not even cover himself in a suit. Such a concern was unable to be fixed now. He could hear those left fighting over the last remaining suits within the closets. He had been lucky to have managed two for himself and Estheim.

Vitzeckes merely shook his head. His hands rested upon the chamber. “It cannot be moved. It is not yet ready. To leave now, I could not live with myself.”

Jovich watched as the young woman reached for the grieving doctor. He was likely a bit rough when he jerked her hand back and away from the man to regain her attention. “No,” he mistakenly spoke in that old language. Shaking his head, he repeated again within a language which she could understand, “No. You must hurry now. I will help the good doctor.”

Estheim seemed to, somehow, understand. Her mitted hands gripped to Jovich’s suited arms tightly. Her gaze was tearful as she stared after the young man. “Jovich.."

There was silence to follow between the pair. There was not true silence, mind you. The room was quickly becoming engulfed in flame. The others had fled by now. Those without suits could be heard screaming. The fires must have taken over the entire sector. Maybe they had even taken the entire compound. Then, as Vitzeckes listened to the shuffle of the body that left him alone within the room with one other and those left in their maddening battle for the last protective suit, he spoke up, “We both know I am not leaving it here.”

“I know, sir,” Jovich replied rather calmly where he stood beside the man. 

“Do you plan to tear me away?” Vitzeckes eyed the young man suspiciously so. “I am beginning to wonder if you knew this would happen all along, little Jovich.”

It was a rather rare expression that then rushed to the surface of Jovich’s youthful face. The poor man was left rather shocked or perhaps he was more hurt than anything by the other's submission. “I promised to help you, did I not? We both knew it would come to this. I was... prepared.”

Was that all truth? It was hard to tell with the young man. He had one hell of a poker-face at times. No, in truth, Vitzeckes knew that Jovich too was unnerved by the events. They had indeed planned for this situation. They had all prepared for such an attack. Still, when all others ran panicked and fought like animals for survival in their fear, he and Jovich both found themselves more concerned with another's survival than that of themselves. Their ties with the project were much deeper than what anyone could have imagined, especially concerning Jovich's. No one was more prepared for just this situation than themselves. It was then that Vitzeckes noticed the peculiar movement at his side. He observed as the young man's hands reached, pulling each mitt off before he then reached for the zipper of his suit.

“What are you doing?” Vitzeckes asked, clearly perplexed.

“Waiting for you to abort operations and hand me Judgment, sir. You will not leave it here. Then I will assure you I will get it out safely,” Jovich answered as he finally finished removing the suit. There was little time left to spare. The flames had, by chance, seemed to encircle them.

Vitzeckes hesitated but a moment before he returned his attention to the chamber he had no plans of leaving. “To abort now..,” he began in whisper to himself. There were so many dangers in an early abortion such as this. So many things could go wrong. What if it all ended in failure? Jovich was willing to risk his life for possibly nothing but an empty shell. Regardless, if he continued waiting, they would all die and it would have truly been for nothing. He forced open the control panel. Swiftly, the code was pressed into the pad. A new set of alarms chimed, this time from the chamber itself. He entered his code to ensure the process proceeded immediately. The flames began to make the area around hot enough that he felt the sweat drenching through his clothes. Even so, as soon as the chamber presented its contents to him, the nude body was hefted out and accepted into what was previously Jovich’s protective suit.

Jovich nodded his head to the man when at last the body had been placed into the protection of the suit. It was then that he lifted the small bundle into his arms. Though it was a light weight, this did not allow him a free arm to pull the doctor along with. “Vitzeckes,” he hissed out with that heavy accent. After all, Judgment could not survive if it were left within the suit in the room. Someone was the cause of this attack. No one was the fool to doubt what they were after. They had to try to move Judgment somewhere safer.

“Why are the emergency systems not working..? The sprinklers.. They should have activated by now…,” Vitzeckes coughed out against the smoke and fumes. The fire was right before them. The heat was intense. Could he truly brave it? Either way, it seemed it would reach him rather he decided to follow Jovich or not. His decision was made.

Jovich took a single step away and it was then that he heard the screams from behind. He only offered a single glance to discern its source, though a look was hardly needed. There was only one other in the room that could have given such a noise. The body he held was still inanimate thus far, after all. The fire seemed to have suddenly leapt right onto the doctor. Vitzeckes was so quickly turned into a walking fireball. Initially, Jovich stumbled as he tried to pace himself away from the man ablaze. There was nothing he could do. “I am sorry, Vitzeckes.. Forgive me, Luuca.”

He rushed forward and through the doors. The fire was everywhere and he simply willed himself not to think of the heat or the hurt. He willed himself to block out the screams of those who cried for help that he could not offer at risk of endangering the mission he had been entrusted with.

He ran blindly onward until he at last reached the cold morning air. After a stumble, he landed himself onto the cool ground with that bundle held close to himself. It took a moment for himself to calm. Deep breaths were ushered in and out through trembling lips. It had been a terrifying ordeal, even if he had appeared so calm moments ago. It was simply what had to be done. Now as he had the time to think of the dangers, he found himself shaking.  Yet, what made him shake most was his sudden, startling realization. Somehow, he had not been burned. As he held the protected bundle within his arms, he shut his eyes. How had he not been burned? He had clearly run through the flames. The fire had completely taken over the building. There was not an inch of it that had been safe from its scorching touch. Even Vitzeckes, who had been so close behind him, was not spared. So, how then did he manage to escape without a single burn?

“I’m… cold,” came a soft voice from nearby.

That voice startled Jovich away from his inner-thoughts. At first, he looked around, expecting that someone had found him where he sat not far from the exit. Had he been careless to collapse there? Those responsible for the attack were likely still on the hunt. Though, it seemed that no one at all had gathered at this particular exit. He eventually discovered the source of the small voice as he peered down.

Breaths fogged the clear covering of the helm which covered the young body’s head. Strands of black and purple fell like little rivers over the face of a child. Golden eyes gazed up and seemed to shine with the mixture of the morning light as well as the blazing fire not so far off. Small arms suddenly stirred, clinging tightly about Jovich’s arm. “I’m so cold,” spoke the quivering voice from within the overly large suit.

It was animated. Jovich waited a moment in silence, stunned into stillness and quiet. He seemed to be waiting for one of his colleagues to discuss the matter. They were not here. This was not the lab. What was going to happen now? He felt much like the child he had once been. There was always doubt. He, like any other, had to wonder if the project ever would have succeeded. Yet, had it not? The body was awake. It breathed. It spoke. Vitzeckes had captured the uncatchable.

“Tell me, who are you?” Jovich found himself whispering, in that old language he was most familiar with.

The youth stared uncertainly as it quivered within the man’s arms. “I’m… My name is Tornaga. You called me here, didn’t you?”

Jovich shook his head. “Not I, but someone I knew well. The man who took you from the chamber. He created this body for you. He called you here.”

It was rather sudden that those golden eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light. The soft voice, though obviously coming from the child-like body, seemed to grow deeper and lose its human emotion, “I am Judgment. I am the end and the beginning. I am all there is and ever will be. Judgment will commence. On the final day, Judgment will be decided.”

The young lab assistant gawked down after the child. Its eyes had since stopped glowing. In fact, those eyes had rather abruptly slid shut. He might have feared, or perhaps hoped, it was deactivated somehow, but he spied the tell-tale signs of breathing within the suit. A small part of him wanted to leave it there. A part of him wished he had never had any part in Project Judgment. Yet, he understood that would do the world little good. It appeared that Judgment worked on a system. With no one else left, he supposed he would have to follow its rules and assist it during its trial of mankind. But was that not always the plan from the very start?

There was a system to follow which Vitzeckes was the only other person that knew well of. However, Vitzeckes was forever gone, seemingly along with anyone else who had knowledge of their secret creation. He was not left as clueless as a mere assistant might have been. After all, they planned for this. They expected this. No, Vitzeckes expected this. The premonition promised the day would come. It swore that the task would fall into his hands somehow. So, it was time for him to play his role in the most important of days to come.

“You will judge mankind, hm?” he spoke to the seemingly sleeping body he began to lift up as he gathered himself to his feet. “Then, I suppose we still have much of mankind to see.”