A hastily constructed building is standing on the border of the Dwarven Republic and the Demon Kingdom. Though its make was rushed, function did not suffer. A dome of lightly colored stone, contrasting the black rock covering as far as the eye can see. Inside, the circular space is divided in two, each half having its own wooden table and plush chairs. All identical, of course, lest we offend a fragile ego.

  On one side am I, accompanied by everyone else in the alliance I am a part of. There’s Vrih for Drakonia. Davia as Master of the Adventurers’ Guild and two representatives from the senate for the Union. Rak’Na and Akt’Wovam for the now Unified Beastfolk Principalities. Councilor Olindir and Councilor Ylyn for the Elven Confederacy. The Transitionary Council for the Dwarven Republic, including Harrn, five dwarves in total. And finally, a representative from the Gnome Enclaves. I specifically requested it not be Garin.

  On the other side is Xyll and his four generals. Auhellis is dutifully standing behind his liege, his unused chair already removed. The older demon is unbothered by anything, primarily concerned with Xyll’s comfort, if he’s feeling cold. To Xyll’s right is Cassmus. The even older demon is quietly seething at being subjected to my presence. Or he’s eaten something that disagrees with him. Either of the two. To Xyll’s left is Falrilliat, as average as a demon can be, nothing but a blank expression on his face, ready to assume whatever emotion is needed of him. And to his left is Yilivin, vibrant green hair and glowing verdant eyes. The dragon has been by the demon king’s side since the first there was.

  Next to the representatives from the Demon Kingdom is Sha’Myr as Ruler of the united beastfolk, trying not to lose his mettle. There’s also the rest of the Transitionary Council that claim themselves as being part of the legitimate Dwarven Republic, one not shaped by an outsider.

  Since we warped in or teleported two minutes ago, we’ve all been sitting in silence, no one daring to utter the first word.

  Oh, and also, Elisa’s here. Is it weird that I think her enraged expression is very attractive? I have now become the focus of her rage. Bad idea to share my thoughts with the person in question. Though she quickly tempers her temper, understanding the hidden intent behind my slightly inappropriate flirting.

  Xyll, finding himself no longer in the gaze of a predator ready to pounce, chooses to start the World Summit with a question, “Is Melliala okay?” All eyes move to him. “She left as soon as she woke up.”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “Is that all you will give me?”

  “Does the trust in your people require more?”

  “No. It doesn’t.” The demon king takes in a deep breath. I send a notification. One of the dwarves on his side reacts. Everyone on my side has enough experience to not show theirs. Xyll does not notice anything, continuing, “Why did you hide away when you were exposed? And why return now?”

  I point at the dwarf whose eyes are unfocused and unmoving. Xyll traces my finger.

  The dwarf senses that attention is now on him. He stammers out, “T-The Maw.”

  As Xyll’s gaze snaps back to me, I give him a wink. Cassmus’ silent seething turns up to almost rival Elisa’s. Good start.

  The demon king asks, “You destroyed the Empty Maw?”

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  A projection springs to life, answering his query. And everyone else’s. It shows only my final fight. Though the rest is there for all to see. Not even a minute later, the core is destroyed.

  Cassmus speaks, his tone not at all hinting at the outward emotion, if even that is real, “You expect us to believe an easily falsified reconstruction?”

  “Go check. We’ll wait.”

  Xyll looks at me for a moment, then shadows swallow him. Merely ten seconds elapsed, he returns.

  “Your Majesty?” Cassmus questions. Xyll nods a reluctant affirmative. Cassmus continues, unperturbed with the confirmation, “You celebrate this? That thing”—he indignantly waves his hand in my direction—“destroyed a world without magic and has now shown its dominion upon ours. What’s stopping it from doing what it did again?”

  Elisa stands up, her armor snapping around her form, deathly intent radiating out, immense pressure blanketing the space, freezing everyone in place. Her voice is even and calm, as if she’s ordering a tasty pastry. “Keep in mind that Lucius has infinitely more patience than me, General Cassmus. At least afford the respect you have been given.”

  “To answer your question, General Cassmus,” I say as I take Elisa’s hand in my own. “Nothing is stopping me, really.” The elf cuts off the intimidation, taking off the armor and sitting down again, gripping my hand tight. “What’s stopping you from doing the same?”

  Cassmus exhales air in frustration, a bead of sweat lost in his long white hair. “I cannot do the same... Lucius.”

  “Can’t you?”

  “Very well... I shall entertain your hypothetical,” he says. “What is stopping me from perpetrating a ‘bad act’? My personal morals. Which would hold true for everyone else in this room. If outside influence is removed, only morals remain. There will always be one person that can stop you. Always. That person is yourself.” He rakes his gaze across everyone on my side. “You are not everyone else, Lucius. You are something else. How can we know that morals apply to you. How can we know that you can stop yourself a second time if you couldn’t do it the first. We can’t.”

  “Can you know the unknown, General?”

  “I can certainly know the uncertain.”

  “Am I uncertain still? What more do I need to do? May I remind you that it was you that attacked me first. If it was the other way around, by your own admission, we wouldn’t be standing here.”

  Falrilliat adopts a particular face. “You consider yourself a man. A man that can feel what a normal man can.” His glance brushes past Elisa. “But are your emotions as artificial as you are? By your own admission.” Yilivin did not approve of that. ...Nor did Xyll.

  “General Falrilliat, are your emotions real?” I ask. “Or merely a complex system arbitrarily changed by neurophysiological factors. Sounds awfully familiar, no?”

  Xyll supersedes the demon’s response, “We are here to discuss your involvement in our world, not philosophize.”

  A tablet appears in my hand. I place it on the table. “Let’s take a break.” Before anyone from the opposition can protest, my side warps away. “Back in fifteen.” I warp away too. Outrage thrown my way is unheard.

  Elisa and I move away, letting the others determine how we proceed from here on, but I still take part. Just not verbally.

  The elf is guiltily looking at the ground. “I’m not apologizing.” A long sigh starts escaping out of her. I interrupt it with a hug, quickly returned.

  “You don’t have to apologize. ...This whole thing would be much easier if we could just brawl it out and then go get drinks after.”

  “How are you so... removed? They tried to kill you.”

  “You know me well enough to reach the answer by yourself.”

  “...I do.” Elisa breathes out, relaxing further into my hold. “What would you have done if it was me?”

  Deep crimson paints my vision, lips curling into a sneer. A cold touch digs into my mind. But then, a warm breeze blows it all away. “I’d be equally as pissed, yes.”

  Elisa titters softly. “Mmm. I’ll behave. Unless someone says something they shouldn’t.” Before I can counter with why that is a monumentally terrible idea, she huffs, interrupting me. “Joking, obviously. I’m aware they’re looking for a reaction, for any justification. They won’t get one from me.”

  “He’s not a bad person. He’s me. A ‘me’ that has to compromise a lot more, but still me in the end. Where it truly counts.”

  “Hah... If only. There’s only one Lucius, thankfully. Can you imagine what a nightmare it’d be with multiple of you?” The elf fakes a shiver. “Running around, doing whatever they want, and being corny all the time. ...I’m describing that fucker to a tee, aren’t I?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Curses.”