The Simulacrum

Making a scenario was hard work. The Emergents unironically had an easier time with it, because of their timey-wimey bullshit. When time was less of an ever-present rule of nature, and more of a polite suggestion you went along with so that you could better mimic humanity, stuff like 'I spent a subjective two hundred years building up the socio-economic relations of a nation, and then decided to give them silly accents once I was done with it' wasn't all that big of a deal.

I'd gotten a taste of that during my first big retcon, when I divided up Angie and Deus and rewrote a whole lot of the Simulacrum's recent history, and it almost caused me to lose myself in the process. It was lucky that I had the presence of mind (or minds, but I digress) to pull me out of it before a perfectionism-induced ego-death, but the point still stood: when doing a 'traditional' retcon like that, many constraints lost their meaning, such as time.

However, there were still some remaining, and pushing those limits resulted in the Emergents in charge of the scenario taking notice. That's how I got the attention of the Predator Moon, and if the Crowned Coalescence didn't butt in to divert it, it could've been game over right there.

Because of that, I now had to operate more… subtly. In ways that, at glance, appeared to be just like the normal operations of the Simulacrum, so that no Emergent would notice the discrepancy unless they looked closely enough, or if things developed in a normally impossible direction. Luckily enough, present-me was already taking care of that side for me, even if unwittingly, so I had the time to focus on weaving the plot.

Ah, there's that word again. Time.

Doing things this way meant I had way more limitations I had to keep in mind, and having to do them manually introduced even more headaches into the equation. For example, in a 'standard' retcon, I could just arrange the board to my liking and say, 'And then everyone was already prepped and ready to move out the moment they got the signal!'. In this case, the process was a bit more… involved.

But first things first, there was that pesky timing stuff again. Because I had to tweak things from the inside, it meant sometimes there was just nothing to do but to wait around and play Paradox-Billiards-Siberian-Roulette-Fourth-Dimensional-Hypercube-Chess-Hopscotch with the kids, while other times, multiple things were happening at the same time, forcing me to work myself to the… well, maybe not the bone per se, but at least the hypodermis.

Such as this one. It might not look like a crux essential to the smooth operation of the scenario, but as always, the devil was in the details. So, let's peek into the living room of a remarkably unremarkable house in the suburbs of Timaeus.

"Thank you, Katie. I can take it from here," the familiar voice of a certain old man called out to the young nurse standing at her bedside.

Despite being officially under house arrest, with only Ordo Draconis security personnel, my sisters, and Tajana being allowed to visit him regularly, Percival made the best of his situation and created his own little kingdom. While the old bastard still looked much shabbier than before, physical therapy and three full meals a day made his cheeks fill out a bit, and although his beard was far from what it used to be, his facial hair was still neatly trimmed.

I'd like to point out in passing that it was a bit weird that his hair follicles functioned, while I never had to shave a single time since I woke up in the Simulacrum, but it was beside the point. It was probably one of those slightly immersion-breaking shortcuts to ensure the main cast's appearances remained consistent over time. There was probably some kind of trope for that.

More importantly, he waved to his nurse (we hired a private service, and she was one of the many employees who took care of him on a rotation), a young brunette woman, and she soon left the room. As soon as she was out of sight, the grandfatherly smile withered off the old man's face, and he grabbed a pair of crutches propped against the side of his sofa. His legs barely worked, but with some assistance, he managed to clumsily make his way over to the corner of the room, and after glancing at the door where the nurse had left one last time, he opened an unassuming curio cabinet and grabbed an item I was all too familiar with.

"Reporting in."

A few seconds passed, and then the white orb in his hand lit up. It projected the unmistakable face of ex-director Mensah into the air, and he readjusted his glasses and tweaked his earpiece before responding.

"I can hear you now. You're late."

"It couldn't be helped," Percival grumbled, and after another glance over his shoulder, he continued in a whisper. "Did the operation succeed?"

"Shouldn't you know already?"

"You know my situation," the old codger continued to gripe. "Penelope hasn't visited me in days, and without her babbling, I'm left completely in the dark here."

The Celestial on the other end of the communicator sighed.

"Yes, it was a success. We not only managed to round up our dissidents, but the incident dealt a major blow to the Assembly in the diplomatic theatre." He slightly inclined his head and added, "Your contributions will not go underappreciated."

"I only put a few ideas into the kids' heads." The old fox sounded modest, but I could see the shifty glint in his eyes. "I just hope it will help loosen my bonds a little."

Mensah levelled a dispassionate gaze at the old bastard, then uttered, "I'm sure the Lord Archon will appreciate your contributions to the cause as soon as he's no longer—"

"Whatcha got there?"

"Gah!"

My sudden appearance behind him made Percival reflexively swing his hand, not only throwing the communication orb across the room, but also dropping his crutch and nearly toppling over, along with the whole curio cabinet.

I acted fast and grabbed the marble out of the air with a jaunty, "Yoink!" and a chuckle.

"Bel of the Abyss!" Percival hissed as soon as he managed to regain his posture. "What are you doing here?!"

"Oh, I'm just here to pay a visit to an old friend," I responded flippantly, then a theatrical beat later, I cocked my head to the side. "Wait, no. That's not quite the right word." I raised the communicator until Mensah's face reappeared over it and asked, "What do you call someone with an inflated sense of importance who thinks they're a big deal, but the only reason why you don't hate them is because they're so beneath your notice they might as well be dirt?"

"Bel of the Abyss, you scumbag! What have you done to Agent Percival?"

"Hmm…" I turned the marble left and right, as if pondering a great philosophical question.

"It's a bit anemic, but eh, I can live with it." I turned back to the crippled man and cranked up the joviality dial again, "Percival, dearest of all my scumbags! How's the old paraplegia treating you these days?" He only glared at me, with occasional glances at the door at the far end of the room and the emergency button near the sofa, both out of range. Meanwhile, I turned my attention to the Celestial on the other end of the line instead, and asked, "And what about you, good ol' so-and-so. It's been so long since we last saw each other, I think. It must've been back iiin… sometimes arooound… not long afteeer…"

I purposefully trailed off while making circling motions with my finger, and Mensah soon ran out of patience.

"We've never met before."

"Oh, thank goodness! I was almost worried there for a second." I mimed wiping my forehead. "It's getting harder and harder to keep track of these timelines, I tell you!"

"What do you want from me?" Percival hissed at me, and after a suitably long beat later, I levelled a confounded stare at him.

"Nothing in particular? I was just in the neighbourhood, and I figured I might as well pay a visit to my dear old scumbag while I'm around. I mean, it's not like there's anyone here who can get in my way anymore."

"Laugh while you can," Mensah scoffed, and if glares could kill, I would've been already six feet under. "Your days are numbered!"

"Ah, how clichéd…" I played with the marble between my fingers, waiting to see if he had anything else to add. "You guys are not great at banter. You could've learned a few things from Polemos while he was around. Or even Deus! I bet the old bird has at least one or two good one-liners in her!"

"Don't you dare utter their names with your filthy mouth!"

By this point, Mensah was outright growling at me, so I responded with a cocky, "Or else?"

"Or else you must be prepared to face the full might of Elysium and Her Grace Deus!"

"Oh my, oh my…" I put a hand over the mouth area of my mask, and then a beat later asked, in a stern tone, "That might've been scary yesterday, but now…" I lowered my voice even further. "Do you even know where she is right now?" I could see confusion slowly take over Mensah's expression, but that was all I wanted to get across, so I shifted my demeanour again and exclaimed, "Oh, would you look at the time! It was fun to meet you again for the first time, but I have some other appointments to meet! Ta-ta!"

"Wait! What do you—?"

Thanks to certain circumstances in my past, I was exceedingly familiar with the inner workings of these Celestial communicators, so a single strategic poke with one of my phantom limbs was all it took to erase its connection to its paired twin in the Elysium, causing it to power down and turn transparent.

All right. With this, I ensured that Mensah would start looking for Angie and keep the Celestial military mobilised. More importantly, I got an unregistered communicator now. Getting a hold of one of these was way more of a hassle than one might imagine. Now, as for the other person in the room.

"Now, back to you, Sir Scumbag!" Percival tensed up and nearly toppled over again when I pushed the white marble up in front of his face. "You've been a bad boy, haven't you? Bad scumbag, bad! You were supposed to be in the time-out corner, not scheming behind everyone's backs. Bad scumbag." Pulling my hand back, I theatrically pocketed the communicator and let out a scoff. "I'm taking this from you until you learn to behave."

"What?"

I wasn't entirely joking when I said I had other places to be, so I cut my visit short with an irreverent wave of my hand and Phased away to the deserted factory that used to be our rehearsal grounds. My arrival made the mini-shoggoth wandering around the abandoned machinery perk up at once, but I didn't pay much attention to them, because I was already focusing on another target.

My point of view shifted, and before long, I was looking at a pair of familiar faces.

"How many more are there?"

"Six more, plus one in the kitchen!"

Hearing Moose's response, Mike let out a satisfied huff and picked up a brown cardboard box, but then he stopped in his tracks and let out a sigh.

"Doesn't this feel like the end of an era?"

Moose poked his head out of the bedroom and uttered a flat, "What?"

"Moving out, renting separate apartments, all of that," the blonde Celestial responded off-handedly, causing the other guy to fully walk out.

Raziel, better known as Moose, looked unusually well-groomed, his long hair tied into a low tail, and he was wearing a plain grey shirt and slacks instead of his usual faded jeans and metal band t-shirts.

"We only lodged together like this out of necessity."

"Yeah, but… I just got so used to this…"

"And I've gotten used to you always complaining about not being able to invite your GF over," Moose griped and picked up another box. "Not to mention, if I want to convince wifey to move to the island, I have to show something more than just your bachelor pad."

"Fair, I guess…"

With that, the two of them carried their boxes outside. Long story short, since both Moose and Mike got promoted in the Celestial hierarchy, which came with corresponding paychecks, they picked this day to move out of the latter's rented flat in Locri for separate apartments in Timaeus. If they had chosen to move a day earlier or later, there would've been no issue, but it just had to be right now. I had to keep an eye on them, and once they both left the flat for a moment, it was time for me to make my move.

I Phased in and, before anyone could notice, I opened up one of the cardboard boxes still in the living room. Under the various household necessities, there were a handful of small wooden boxes at the bottom, and after checking them with my phantom limbs, I scooped up the one in the upper left corner, pocketed it, and then packed everything up and Phased out just before the two Celestials were about to return.

"Gah!"

Percival nearly screamed out in shock when I reappeared next to him again.

"On second thought, I'm also taking your crutch privileges!" I wagged my finger at him and concluded with an upbeat, "Be a good little scumbag, and I might consider letting you have them back."

"What are you—?"

I couldn't hear the end of his question, because I was already back in the factory, and the two crutches I brought along fell over with a clatter. I kicked them to the side and sat down on a nearby crate. After patting a curious Pudding-kun (as is tradition), I flipped the lid of the box open in my right hand, and held out the orb I just nabbed from Percival in my left. The two semi-transparent communications spheres were essentially identical to any other, but they were, in fact, rather special.

Here's the thing: these fancy inter-dimensional communicators were made by Celestials. As in, the people who were compulsive schemers and overthinkers. Because of that, pretty much all of these orbs had not only their own serial numbers, allowing them to be easily traceable, but with high enough clearance, top-ranking Celestial officials could listen in on them whenever they wanted.

In return, they were essentially untraceable by anyone else; even the Magi couldn't figure out how to pinpoint their transmissions, even though they'd been trying to crack them for decades, if not centuries. As long as nobody knew their magical 'serial numbers' and had the right equipment to track them back in the Elysium, they were as secure as it got.

So, in one literal hand, I had a communicator that Mensah sneaked into Percival's possession (which alone earned him a smack over the head, but that was for later) without anyone else's notice. Not only that, this one was a rare unregistered artifact without one of those magical serial numbers, thanks to the ex-director also being one of those compulsory schemers and overthinkers. In the other literal hand, I had a blank communicator Moose had in his possession, just in case any of the many orbs we used during those conference calls broke and needed replacement. Because it wasn't linked yet, it was treated a bit more carelessly than the rest, so even if it got 'lost' like this while they were moving out, nobody would care much.

Of course, if I were doing a normal retcon, I could've just made it so that I always had these, or given Moose two unregistered communicators from the start, or something, but alas, I had to do things my way. Thanks to how the retcon process worked, I could 'see' all of the possibilities and 'know' all of these small details, but since I had to play by the Simulacrum's rulebook, I had to figure out how to 'do' something with that information on my own.

Case in point, I had to jump through all these hoops to get these two specific magic balls. Now I just had to link them, which was as mercifully simple as tapping them together, and voila! I now had a secure line of communications that nobody, not even the original Celestial owners, could track. As for why I needed something like that…

"Lemme check…" I muttered as I pocketed the orbs and cast my point of view across Critias again. I focused all my attention on the scene unfolding before me, waiting for my cue.

"What are you not telling me?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about…"

As I had noted before, as the Ordo Draconis grew, the underground base kept expanding in response, and by this point, there were a whole lot of living spaces built into the mountain. While the enlisted Squires and Draconian recruits would use either the old barracks or the shared rooms in the dormitory section, the executives of the organisation had their separate personal lodgings.

Since he was in many ways my second-in-command, Sir Roland naturally had one of the bigger quarters assigned to him; essentially a small but fully furnished underground apartment with a separate kitchen and bathroom. It didn't look very lived-in yet, mostly because the guy only used it as a place to sleep, but the sleek modern furniture and the tidy, well-organised environment still reflected the proclivities of its owner.

At the moment, he was standing in the middle of the small living room, arms crossed, and staring intently at his nervous guest. Tajana, on the other hand, looked more awkward than anything. Maybe even a bit panicky.

"You've been keeping a lot of secrets from me as of late," he noted with the same calm yet insistent tone, and his Abyssal companion straight up tugged at the collar of her blouse, which was borderline inappropriate considering how low-cut it was.

"I-Is this still about Mister Arpacshad? I told you, we only worked together in the service of My Lady! Nothing more!"

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."

"Seriously! There's nothing between us!"

"And I'm seriously telling you that's not what I want to know."

"W-Wait! Are you saying you don't care if I have r-relations with other men?"

"No, that's a completely different topic altogether," Roland noted with mounting impatience. "Can you please stay on track?"

"Right, right… What were we talking about?"

The man let out a soft groan, his eyes slowly narrowing into displeased slits.

"The kids have been acting suspicious lately."

"W-Were they? I thought they were behaving very well."

"Precisely. There's no way they would stay so quiet after such a big incident, especially after the Draconic Council indefinitely postponed the plan they proposed. No matter how you look at it, it's suspicious, and I'm not happy about how the only adults they seem to consult nowadays are you and the Praetorian Prefect."

Before he even finished talking, the alleged Abyssal Seducer let out a triumphant noise and pointed a finger at him.

"A-ha! I knew it! You were bothered by it!" She put her hands on her hips and puffed up her chest (which, again, would've been borderline inappropriate in public due to the cut of her top) and declared, "You really should be more straightforward. Also, i-it's not like I even have space for a-another man in my life right now, you know?"

She sounded rather sheepish by the end of it, and while Roland tried to hide it, he must've found her floundering amusing. Endearing, even.

I hated to interrupt them when they were having a moment, but again, I had a timetable to consider, and this was one of the few opportunities that let me kill multiple birds with one stone. As such, I Phased into the corner of the room and let out a melodramatic sigh.

"Lady Sukkal, how could you?! I thought we had something special between us!"

"Eeek!"

The Abyssal woman let out a startled cry, while to his credit, the resident Knight only turned on his heel and took up a defensive posture. I waited for them to gather their wits, then snapped my finger and exhaled a groan.

"Ah, damnation. Sorry, I thought I was still in the other timeline. Let me try again." I cleared my throat and then let out another, even more melodramatic wail. "Sir Griffon, how could you?! I thought we had something special between us!"

"W-What is Lord Bel doing here?!"

Tajana's shaky voice made Roland tense up, only to then glare at me and hiss, "That's a very good question."

Meanwhile, I Phased to the other corner of the room, prompting the Abyssal woman to dive behind the small brown couch in the middle for cover.

"Wait, I'm getting confused now," I started while pacing up and down. "Is this the timeline where we're sworn enemies, or the one where there's a lot of tensions and a bunch of fangirls are crack-shipping us?"

"I don't know what the latter means, but I can assure you it's most definitely the former."

He might've said that, but his eyes were practically screaming, 'What the hell are you doing right now!?' to me. I would've liked to give him a straightforward answer, but again, rules and constraints and limitations and whatnot.

"Aw, shucks. My bad then. Seriously, it's so hard to track all these timelines. I liked that one too!" I paused and glanced at the woman crouching behind the couch. "Not as much as our timeline, but more's the pity. Such is the lot of those who wish to make infinity into a pretzel; some things break, and other things are just never meant to be."

"W-Wait! Listen, Roland! There's nothing going on between me and Lord Bel either!"

"That's the least important detail discomposing me right now."

In the meantime, I Phased a bit closer to Roland and idly stated, "I only wished to pay a visit to some old friends… enemies…" I came to a halt and levelled a questioning gaze at him. "Hey, Sir Griffon? Would you say that we're frenemies now?"

"No."

"Frenemies with benefits it is, then!" I proclaimed loudly, followed by a slightly more subdued tone. "But this isn't so bad either. Make sure you two take good care of each other, and…"

At this point, I Phased right in front of the man without warning and clasped a hand on his shoulder. He reflexively tried to pull back, but I drew him closer instead.

"Roland! No!" Tajana yelped and looked like she was about to leap over the furniture in a panic, so I put my face next to Roland's ear while simultaneously slipping one of the Celestial communication orbs into his palm.

"Listen, I found this at Percival's place. Look into who smuggled it in there, but keep it under the lid for now. I'll use this to contact you later, when you're in private. For now, act really outraged, like I just told you something embarrassing."

Roland gave me a flat look, yet his hand moved without hesitation, and he smoothly pocketed the small sphere. He then fluidly changed his posture and used the same hand to push on my chest. I leaned into it and staggered back, and as for him, he took up a defensive stance again.

"I care not for your mind-games, Bel!"

"Oh, come on! I just wanted to give you some advice. No need to be so rude." Following that mock outrage, I dramatically adjusted the lapels of my coat and then added, "Seriously though, take good care of her. She's a handful, but I've still got a soft spot for my people from the past of the future, even if it's not this particular present."

"Was that all you came here to do?"

Roland's question was clearly about the orb in his pocket, but it was vague enough that Tajana wouldn't pick up on it. I nodded, naturally.

"Yes. Why?" I paused for a beat, and after pretending to have a revelation, I hastily shook my hands. "Ah, I think I get what you're hinting at. Sorry, but I'm not interested in this 'throuple' thing. I'll leave it to Polemos." Another beat later, I glanced at my wrist, pretending to be checking my nonexistent watch. "Speaking of which, I should make the most of the opportunity, now that he can't interfere with me for a while. Have fun, you two, and Sir Griffon… remember what I told you. About the spot behind her ears."

Roland blinked in mild confusion, Tajana let out a baffled noise, and as for me, I sent them a playful wink and then Phased out.

So, with this, I not only gave closure to the Abyssal spymaster's unprompted crush on Bel, but I also set up a communications line with Roland, something that would be necessary for arranging our forces on the island in preparation for the big finish.

Also, sheesh. Near-omniscience or not, having to jump through all of these hoops to set things up was still exhausting. Granted, I also knew I wouldn't need to keep doing it for much longer, but the closer we got to the finale, the more loose ends needed to be tied off, and it led to spikes in my workload like this. Luckily, I had my own ways of dealing with the accumulating stress, such as…

"No, I swear, he was right here, and—"

"I changed my mind, Sir Scumbag," I spoke as soon as I rematerialized in the familiar room, much to Percival's repeated shock. "Just taking away your crutch privileges isn't enough. No more gacha games for you until you learn your lesson."

Then, before he could even react, I disappeared once again, this time with his phone in tow, cutting him off mid-conversation.

…

Ah. Feeling much better already.