"What I'm about to say isn't meant to stop you from returning home." Alexander raised his voice, addressing his thousands of men as if speaking to each one individually.
Yet, when he spoke, his voice carried across the vast assembly of his legion, reaching every soldier with unwavering clarity.
"As far as I have come, you may go wherever you wish." Alexander chuckled, spreading his arms in a casual gesture before his expression tightened, his eyes narrowing.
"But I want you to remember how you have behaved toward me and how I have treated you." Alexander raised a finger, pointing it toward them all, his voice laced with both reproach and command.
"I'll begin as is right with my father, Philip."
"When he found you, you were mere peasants, clad in hides, tending a few sheep on the mountain slopes, barely able to defend them from your neighbors." Alexander reminded him, walking across the high-rise that forced each and every one of his soldiers to look up towards him.
"Under him, you began living in cities, governed by good laws and customs," Alexander continued, emphasizing how safe and secure they had all become.
"And he turned you from slaves into rulers over the very barbarians who once plundered your land." Alexander boisterously declared, smiling as he ignited a flicker of gratitude within their hearts, one they tried to suppress as his next words followed.
"He conquered most of Thrace, seizing the finest harbors to foster trade and prosperity, and set the mines to steady work." Alexander lectured them, spreading out his hands before raising them along with the crescendo of his voice.
"The Thracians, they used to terrify you!" Alexander burst out laughing, almost as if looking back at the thought was completely humorous.
"Well, we rule them now."
"The Athenians and Thebans, always looking for a chance to attack Macedonia, were so humbled." Alexander continued on, listing off a crucial war on the Macedonian front, just in case they dare to forget it.
"Myself, playing my small part in the war." Alexander humbly said, placing his heart over his chest before swiping it across the army.
"That they no longer take tribute from Macedonia, but instead depend upon us for their protection." Alexander said, holding his spear in his hand and pointing it at them.
"My father went to the Peloponnese and put their house in order!" Alexander yelled, forcing them all to look at him before he smiled lightly.
"Then he was declared supreme commander of all the Greeks for the campaign against the Persians, an honor not for himself but for all Macedonians." Alexander nonchalantly continued, listing off the rest before slowly walking towards the very edge of his little platform.
"This is what my father, Philip, did for you, great enough on its own!" Alexander yelled again, his voice echoing, forcing them to comprehend and understand the magnitude of what his father had done for all of them.
"But small compared to what you've gained from me." Alexander's words were low, but they seeped into the very bones of everyone around.
A shiver ran through the battle-hardened men, and goosebumps slowly began to form on their skin.
"I crossed the Hellespont, even though the Persians still commanded the sea." Alexander clarified for them, waving his finger at his legion while pacing around the platform.
"I defeated the satraps of the great King Darius and made you rulers of Ionia, Aeolis, Phrygia, Lydia, and took Miletus by siege." Alexander listed off, emphasizing each and every g]region that he had taken under his spear and will.
"The rest of the lands surrendered willingly, and their wealth became yours." Alexander graciously said, spreading out his arms towards them as if the wealth had flowed through their pockets countless of times.
"All the riches of Egypt and Cyrene, which I won without a fight, are yours now." Alexander selflessly said, gesturing towards all of them once more.
"Syria, Palestine, Mesopotamia, Babylonia, ALL BELONG TO YOU!" Alexander's words trickled upwards until he commanded the surroundings with his booming voice.
"THE WEALTH OF LYDIA, THE TREASURES OF PERSIA, THE JEWELS OF INDIA, AND THE OUTER SEA." Alexander spoke, and as he did, the spears that had once been pointed at him slowly rose towards the sky, a sea of them all before his preaching.
"You are now satraps, you are generals, and captains," Alexander simmered his words, lowering his tone. As he did, it felt like all the soldiers lowered themselves with him, as if under a trance.
"What have I held back from myself, apart from this purple cloak and diadem?" Alexander genuinely asked, pausing for a brief moment before one of the soldiers opened his mouth to respond.
"NOTHING!" Alexander yelled, his voice ringing out across the mass of soldiers.
He looked up at the legion, a force capable of killing him if they all united, and yet, through it all, he accused them of selfishness in his own way.
"No man can point to my riches, only the things I hold in trust for you all," Alexander clarified, emphasizing that everything he had acquired had been poured into this conquest, these battles, and none of it had been hoarded for himself.
"And what would I do with them anyways?" Alexander once again proned the question, having no use for wealth even if it wasn't used for the constant wars.
"I eat what you eat, I get no more rest than you. Many times I've spent the night on watch so that you can sleep soundly." Alexander continued to emphasize these selfishness traits, raising a brewing storm of guilt within these men as it raged in their hearts.
"Who among you believes he's worked harder for me than I have for him?" Alexander asked again, spreading his hands out toward them, but this time, not a single one dared to even open their mouths to respond.
"COME ON!" Alexander urged every one of them, almost begging for them to contradict his words in any sort of way.
"IF YOU GOT SCARS, STRIP AND SHOW THEM TO ME!" Alexander roared, swiping his arms out towards the entire crowd.
"I'LL SHOW YOU MINE!" Alexander continued, tearing off his chestplate and tossing it aside, ripping the cloth beneath it to reveal the scars and wounds that marked his body.
"THERE ISN'T ONE PART OF MY BODY, THE FRONT AT LEAST, THAT DOESN'T BEAR A WOUND!" Alexander thumped his chest, his skin almost entirely covered in scar tissue, the most predominant feature on his body.
"My body's covered in scars from every weapon you can think of: swords, arrows, stones, clubs," Alexander passionately seethed, his fingers digging into his own scar tissue, blood welling up and staining his fingertips.
"All for the sake of your lives, your glory, and your wealth!" Alexander beckoned forward, his blood dripping onto the ground as a testament to the sacrifices made for them.
"And yet, here I still am, leading you, as conqueror of land and sea, rivers, mountains, and the plains," Alexander said, his voice steady, knowing full well that at any point, he could've returned to his throne.
But instead, he stayed here with all of them, pushing just a little bit further, striving to make them just a little bit richer.
"We've celebrated our weddings together!" Alexander boisterously laughed, exclaiming how close they had all become through their endeavors.
"Many of your children will be cousins of my own!" Alexander spoke, showing that their bond would evolve into something familial one day.
"I've paid off your debts without asking how you got them, even though you're paid well enough and pillage every city we take." Alexander subtly mentioned, watching his soldiers squirm at this outing of their characters.
"Many of you wear golden crowns, badges of courage and honor, given to you by me." Alexander proclaimed, looking upon the sea of golden wreaths that symbolize their mark of honor, which they gained from his campaign.
"Anyone of us who was killed!" Alexander raised his voice along with one hand, gesturing towards himself before stretching the other outwards.
"Anyone of us who met a glorious end!" Alexander yelled, gripping his fist in the air and then thumping his chest.
"We buried with full honours!" Alexander proclaimed, letting his words simmer as he paused before washing the crowd with what death truly meant for each and every one of them.
"Many now stand immortalized by bronze statues in Macedonia." Alexander said, his voice thick with respect for the fallen as he honored the dead as much as the living, ensuring their legacies were preserved in bronze, forever remembered.
"Their families are honored and pay no taxes," Alexander continued, his tone unwavering.
"Under my command, not one man has been killed fleeing the enemy." Alexander's words rippled, having even mercy for the cowards under his legion.
"And now, I wanted to send back some of you who have been wounded, crippled, or have grown old." Alexander then circled back to the start of this problem, the root of it, and stood before them all.
"To be welcomed back home as heroes." Alexander smiled, his words endearing before they slowly soured.
"But since you all wish to go, then all of you, GO!" Alexander beckoned them, literally giving them the very thing they wanted.
"GO HOME AND TELL THEM THAT YOUR KING!" Alexander bellowed, his voice filled with fury as he stood before the mass of soldiers, once loyal and courageous, now stood cowardly and wavering.
"ALEXANDER, CONQUEROR OF THE PERSIANS, MEDES, BACTRIANS, AND SCYTHIANS, WHO NOW RULES OVER THE PARTHIANS, CORASMIANS, AND HYCAINIANS!" Alexander roared, his voice booming with the weight of his conquests, each word an echo of his monumental achievements with it all too vast to be captured in a single breath.
"AS FAR AS THE CASPIAN SEA, WHO HAS MARCHED OVER THE MOUNTAINS OF THE HINDU KUSH, CROSSED THE OXUS AND TANAIS RIVERS, EVEN THE INDUS, FIRST TO CROSS IT SINCE DIONYSUS HIMSELF!" Alexander heaved, voicing out everything he was to all the men who had bore witness to these very words.
"I WOULD'VE CROSSED THE HYPHASIS TOO IF YOU HADN'T COWERED IN FEAR!" Alexander shouted, his voice dripping with contempt, still burning with the resentment of being forced to turn back from his next conquest because his men trembled in the fear of the unknown.
"WHO SAILED INTO THE GULF AT THE MOUTH OF THE INDUS, WHO CROSSED THE DESERT OF GADARIS, WHERE NO ONE HAD EVER LED AN ARMY!" Alexander listed off one region after another, river after river, victory after victory, pouring his words into the ears of his men, none of whom dared to look away.
"WHO TOOK CARMANIA WHILE MY FLEET SAILED THE PERSIAN GULF!" Alexander roared out the last bit of his glory, spilling it all out for them to bear witness to as he gripped his fist tightly.
Huff
"WHEN YOU GET HOME, YOU TELL THEM THAT WHEN YOU REACHED SUSA, YOU ABANDONED ME AND WENT HOME!" Alexander heaved out a breath, his eyes swirling with a resolve so fierce it seemed to burn through the air as he stood firm, unwavering, determined to finish what he had started, even if it meant his own life being snuffed out in the process.
"LEAVING HIM UNDER THE PROTECTION OF THE FOREIGNERS YOU CONQUERED!" Alexander's last words trickled out, each syllable cutting into the silence as he stood before them all, his figure towering, as he raised his single hand towards the sun.
For a brief moment, the fiery words he had just spoken hung in the air, simmering, each one burning its mark into the hearts of his men.
The heat of his resolve spread across the army until it cooled, and in that stillness, Alexander began to forge his narrative.
It became a sharpened sword, one that would cut through their doubts, slay their hesitations, and leave no room for questions in the hearts of those before him.
"Perhaps this report of yours will be seen as glorious in the eyes of men, and worthy in the eyes of the gods," Alexander muttered, his voice cold and distant as he turned his back to the army, his footsteps echoing as he walked away from his entire legion without a single glance, his stride steady and unburdened by any lingering grievances.
"BE GONE!"
All those words, his speech, everything, were spoken without rehearsal or script, born entirely from the moment, delivered to men who had once seen him as nothing more than a traitor literally seconds before.
Yet now, before Ricky's eyes, all his men knelt around him, thousands of them, their heads bowed, begging for forgiveness.
Literally thousands of battle-hardened men, men who had fought for half their lives, who had stared death in the face hundreds of times, were now reduced to humble servants before him.
Hardened by the brutal weather of their surroundings, surviving deadly diseases, and overcoming feats that men could only fantasize about and yet, they were all kneeling like little schoolboys, begging for his forgiveness, all at the feet of Alexander.
And it left Ricky with one question as he stood there, a mutant and a superhuman who had defied the odds of mortality, a man who had killed literary myths from mere books and fought against systems that had stood to oppress him.
Through all of this, Ricky still couldn't grasp the one thing that swirled in his mind, a question that genuinely made him feel like he was having an out-of-body experience as he looked upon someone greater than himself in every regard.
'Could I even do that?' Ricky genuinely couldn't help but think after watching the scene unfold before him.
Alexander was being praised, not just for forgiveness, not only for his leadership, but as a figure higher than them all, someone they bowed to for forgiveness, even though it was Alexander who had led them down into the pits of hell.
Alexander had led them to almost certain death time and time again, yet, even still, they all asked for his mercy.
"It shocked me the first time I heard it as well." Gaia spoke softly from the side, her voice tinged with a touch of reverence as she watched the scene unfold.
Her eyes never left Alexander, as if she was seeing more than just the man who stood before them.
"Alexander-...he always had a way with words, a way with the chords that tugged at the heartstrings of our harp of a soul." Gaea continued, her gaze distant yet full of admiration.
There was a deep understanding in her voice, as if she'd seen this before, as if she'd been part of this very moment countless times in the past, yet it never failed to astonish her.
The power of his words had always been his weapon, more so than the spear he wielded.
It was this strange gift that made men bow, made them believe they owed him something even when it was he who owed them the world.
Ricky looked down at his shoulder, turning towards Alexander who stood silent throughout it all on his shoulder with an expression not of pride of his feats, but a greater shame.
"He was something only forged by fate itself-"
"Enough." Alexander finally said, turning towards Gaea as his voice boomed in the area, even with its low pitch.
"She shows but a hollow truth Ricky, nothing more." Alexander spoke, gripping his heart but the feeling slowly mended after a while as his eyes steeled at what she was doing.
"Alexander, that speech-"
"That speech led me and all my men to my death!" Alexander revealed, his words cutting through the air, silencing Gaia's voice as it faded into nothing all while her lips slowly pressed together, her words caught in the turmoil of his revelation.
"What good are inspiring words if they lead to defeat?!" Alexander yelled, his voice heavy with frustration as his eyes locked on Gaia, filled with nothing but resentment, stepping forward slightly on Ricky's shoulder with regret and anguish clearly evident in his posture.
"IT ISN'T REMEMBERED BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW GLORIOUS A FAILURE IS, IT DOES NOT DEFINE ITSELF THAN ANYTHING MORE THAN WHAT IT IS, A FAILURE!" Alexander's words hit the air with the force of a thunderclap.
But what made him scowl was the bitterness of his failure resting upon his tongue, allowing him to reminisce of this horrid memory and haunting him once more as he exhaled sharply.
His anger wasn't just about the battle, about the loss, it was about the fact that despite all of it, his legend would be forever etched in stone, but what he had truly lost, what they had all truly lost, was something no amount of glory could ever redeem.
"Ricky, listen and listen well." Alexander's voice was low but insistent, his hand sweeping through the air, drawing Ricky's full attention to him.
"Failure is the essence of victory, but no victory can be claimed in death." Alexander's words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of lived experience, truths borne from the trials of a lifetime.
"No matter how great I profess myself to be, no matter how much greatness I obtained, it is all meaningless if you fail at the moment it truly matters." Alexander thumped his chest, looking Ricky square in the eyes as if daring him to look away.
It was why Ricky stood, frozen, every word sinking into him like a stone thrown into water, the ripples of Alexander's wisdom spreading deep into his soul.
"I say I am great, that I am Alexander the Great, but that is all I will ever be." Alexander's voice cracked, not from sorrow but from the silent acceptance of something far more profound.
Alexander's gaze drifted downward, his eyes closing slowly as if to mourn his own fate, his own legacy.
"Because you are only great, when death measures your worth."
There was a pause, a silence that wrapped around them both, the words hanging like an ancient prophecy, both an omen and a truth.
And then, as if it had all been too much to bear, Alexander clenched his fists tightly, his muscles straining against the weight of everything he had built and destroyed in his wake.
"It is why no one should strive for greatness, but for victory," Alexander continued, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of his words.
"For only death measures one's greatness, and I have already had mine." Alexander's eyes, filled with an ancient sorrow, met Ricky's for a moment before turning away.
"So when she speaks words filled with half-truths and half-lies, know this; your greatness has yet to be defined." Alexander added, his tone sharper now, speaking not to what Ricky had etched upon his stone but the space left to fill with his glory.
"Don't let it be defined right here, right now, or you will be no better than an old dead man."
The truth of it struck Ricky deeply, sinking into the core of his being as it wasn't just a warning, but a reflection of everything Alexander had sacrificed, everything he had fought for, everything he was, and everything he is.
Because he is Alexander the Great, but in a sad way, that is all he will ever be.
The title 'the Great' wasn't even coined by a future empire or kingdom; it was first used as a joke in a Roman comedy. around the 1st century BCE.
It was only later, long after his death, that the title became a posthumous honor, bestowed upon Alexander by those who admired his extraordinary conquests and the vast empire he built.
In his own lifetime, Alexander never referred to himself as 'the Great' for he was simply Alexander, King of Macedonia, nothing more, nothing less.
His ambition and relentless pursuit of victory shaped the world around him, but it was only after his death, when the full scope of his achievements became apparent, that others began to elevate him to the legendary status we now associate with his name.
In the underworld, he came to understand the myth and grandeur surrounding his life, and in that space, he adopted the title, not as a boast but as an acknowledgment of how history had shaped his legacy.
But his true greatness, however, was never defined by that title, it was defined by his actions when he was alive, his leadership, and his ability to inspire both fear and loyalty in equal measure.
In the end, his death and how history chose to remember him, solidified the myth of Alexander the Great.
However, despite the weight of the truth, Alexander and Gaia both accepted it, while Ricky's expression slowly soured as he processed the matter at hand.
"No." Ricky suddenly said, his voice firm and clear, shocking both Alexander and Gaia.
"You're f*cking great, and you'll get better. I don't know what the hell you're thinking, but you're still alive, and I won't let you take that away from yourself," Ricky said, pointing his finger at Alexander with a fierce look since it wasn't over, not while Alexander was still breathing.
Even if his second chapter, the second stone that would etch his future glory, would be within the body of a gerbil.
"As f*cking stupid and cheesy as it sounds, I respect you too much to see you lower your head just to make me feel better," Ricky continued, his voice hard with conviction.
"You're better than me, hell, I don't even think I could ever say I could be better than you in my lifetime since you could attribute my achievements to yourself, for all I care." Ricky lowered his usual smug, narcissistic persona, a rare honesty slipping through as he spoke directly to Alexander, admitting that, in this regard, he could never measure up.
"But to be honest, Alexander." Ricky paused, his tone dropping as he looked directly at him, his gaze steady and unwavering.
For the first time, the words he spoke felt more genuine than anything he'd ever said.
"I just don't f*cking care about stuff like that."
"What?" Gaia asked, incredulous, her eyes wide with disbelief as she watched this shameless human approach the pedestal between them and with a lazy shrug, he snatched it from her fingers without a care.
"I ain't Alexander," Ricky continued, his voice casual but unwavering.
"But on that same note, he ain't me." Ricky thumped his chest, almost proud of the man he was standing before the memory of Alexander at his peak.
"Of course, he's gonna be better than me at some stuff, and I'm gonna be better at other stuff. That's just how sh*t works, and although it's downright unfair, it's life." Ricky said, shrugging as he accepted the harsh truth.
"And just cause he's better than me at something right now, don't mean that it will be the same in the future since anything could happen." Ricky said since he might never be able to measure up to Alexander's speech, but that didn't mean he wasn't bringing something else to the table, and that didn't mean that
"You can't be serious, do you truly believe you are better than Alexander at anything-"
"Go-fish," Ricky interrupted, turning around with a casual smirk, his words causing the goddess to furrow her brows in confusion.
"What?" Gaia and Alexander both said in unison, staring at him as if he were completely out of his mind.
"No offense, Alexander, but you're terrible at Go-fish and literally any form of gambling. It's actually f*cking sad." Ricky said, his tone mocking as he glanced at Alexander, who frowned and kicked at his shoulder.
"But it humanizes you," Ricky added, his words causing Alexander to pause and look at him, his stupid grin still on his face.
"You're not perfect at everything, you're not as perfect as everyone thinks you are. You're not just a figure higher than life, you're Alexander, man." Ricky laughed, thinking it was actually stupid to always prop up others when you could prop up yourself.
It might have seemed arrogant and downright narcissistic, but for Ricky, it was actually a form of mental resilience.
He didn't need to elevate others just to feel validated and didn't care if anyone was better than him, because in his eyes, no one was better than the reflection staring back at him in the mirror.
For the first time, his narcissism was paying off.
"Be it my teacher, a f*cking conqueror, or just my friend, you're Alexander." Ricky cheered him up, looking at Alexander no differently than he did before because of some weird ramblings of this patron mother goddess of life.
"And maybe I'll never be as great as you, but who f*cking cares." Ricky rubbed the back of his neck, squatting down and placing Alexander's sword on the ground as he looked up at him.
"I'm sorry that I'm not really that good at the sword or the spear, and that my power scheme is a f*cking mess, I really am." Ricky's gaze softened, his usual cocky demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable.
"I'm also sorry that I f*ck up and constantly weigh myself down, just all the time, while you have to stay behind and assure me it'll all work out cause I know how annoying that is sometimes." Ricky paused, letting the words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity.
"And I will always, ALWAYS, respect the sh*t out of you, 'cause no matter what sort of sh*t I went through or hid from you, you always sat on my shoulder, and you always gave me my moments." Ricky's voice carried the weight of genuine appreciation, something raw and real.
"But now that I think about it, I think this is not my moment anymore, but yours." Ricky said, wanting to have a back and forth but after seeing all of that, it made him reconsider.
Honestly, this entire time, Ricky genuinely thought that it was somehow related to him, but at the very start, it had always been about Alexander and Gaia.
"So I'm gonna sit on your shoulder for once, rummage around in your little pocket, and munch on sunflower seeds." Ricky smirked, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes returning as he side-eyed the druids curiously gazing at him in the distance.
"Have your moment Alexander, make it count." Ricky stood up, giving one last glance at both Alexander and Gaia before walking away.
Gaia stood there, trying to process the whirlwind of words and how to properly leverage them against Alexander only to actually see Ricky walking away.
"Where are you going-"
"To let Alexander have his space, to go eat my sunflower seeds!" Ricky called out, not worried at all as Alexander laughed while he walked away.
I think it was as Ricky walked away that he realized, in that quiet moment, that he could never be Alexander.
It sounded obvious, yet it was a truth he'd been avoiding for so long as he had been trying so hard to learn from Alexander, to emulate his every move, to be him.
But what he hadn't realized was that he should have been focusing on how to be a better version of himself, not a carbon copy of someone else.
In an unexpected way, Gaia had opened his eyes to something he'd been blind to for so long.
All the stress, all the effort he'd put into trying to live up to others' expectations, had been pointless.
It was stupid, really.
Since he would never be more than himself, and trying to be anything else was a waste of time.
With this new chance and his new perspective on life after coming back to New York, Ricky had always tried to be the people he looked up to as with the Luciano family, he had attempted to fill the role Lucky left behind, thinking he could step into his shoes and carry on the legacy.
Similarly, in Otherworld, he had tried to command and lead like Alexander, believing that by emulating him, he could inspire the same loyalty and respect.
But all this time, whenever he met with stagnation, it wasn't anyone else who had held him back, it was himself.
Ricky had always been the one limiting his own potential, trapped by the belief that he wasn't enough, that his way wouldn't be enough, and that he had to act like others to get better, to get stronger.
But I think it was at this moment that the walls he had unknowingly built around himself, had broken.
Ricky didn't even know if it was a good idea to leave Alexander alone with Gaea, but he knew that staying there at that moment wouldn't help.
It would only stall the weight that had been dragging on Alexander throughout this journey to the otherworld.
In this lifetime, at least, Alexander had done more for Ricky than most people ever would and Ricky appreciated it more than anyone could ever truly understand.
So, he was going to sit back, eat his sunflower seeds, and let Alexander have this moment as he deserved that much, at least.
"Well, let us get you out of that form and-" Gaia first stated, walking over to Alexander who turned to her and for once in his life, held his head up high and faced her gaze directly.
"No." Alexander said, his voice firm, defying Gaia for the first time as she stopped, her gaze locking onto him.
"No?" Gaia repeated, an eyebrow raised, caught off guard by his resistance.
"I'm done being your pawn, done being a part of this prophecy," Alexander declared, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
"You cannot pick and choose your fate-"
"Neither can you!" Alexander roared defiantly, his voice ringing with unshakable resolve.
He stepped forward, shaken within but unafraid as his gaze locked onto Gaia, the woman who had controlled his life from the very start to its very end.
Gaia's smirk faltered for a brief moment, seeing that raw fire in his eyes turning towards her when she had trained it so well to simmer at her mere gaze.
"You can't control fate, you can only observe." Alexander beckoned, swiping his paw across the air as if dispelling the charms in place around him.
"My entire life as Alexander the Great, I lived off of your whispers." Alexander pointed at her, the green hands that had always rested on his shoulders were none other than the ones held by Gaea herself.
"How you controlled my mother to spout the seedlings of doubt that I am Zeus' bastard and drove my father to his death." Alexander scowled, looking at the very person who was responsible for those myths in history, the one that diminished who his real father truly was.
"I stood by and watched people die, my people, die for the fate's grand schemes and I believed them, I wanted to believe them." Alexander closed his eyes, holding his heart since at one point, even he was naive to believe in everything she uttered.
"But no more." Alexander finally said, denying Gaea for the first time in his existence.
"No more shall I live my life in the shadow of mere words." Alexander uttered again, his words having this finality that made Gaea raised her gaze to him.
"Do you understand what this prophecy entails?" Gaea asked, looking upon Alexander who simply stared at him as if he even understood what he was saying.
"You are the promised king, meant to be its greatest ruler, it was written in stone the moment you were born." Gaea uttered the words, the tree behind her glowing up in the runic symbols of this prophecy.
"How even death cannot triumph over your will." Gaea gestured towards him, looking upon a man who had climbed out of the pits of hell that had so wished for him to be forever chained.
"You are everything it has professed." Gaea propped him up, raising her hand along with her wicked smile before resting it on her heart.
"And I am here to guide you on this journey." Gaea boldly proclaimed, taking the position as his guide but Alexander simply raised his gaze to this statement with a scowl clear on his face.
"No, you're not." Alexander spat, squinting his eyes and finally challenging the wicked woman this mother goddess truly was at heart.
"You're only here to torment me, but not anymore," Alexander affirmed, solidifying his words with his will, turning them into the resolute spear that materialized at his side.
"Alexander, you do know what happens when you defy me-"
"STOP!" Gaea's confident words were cut short by her own hastily interruption as Alexander materialized his golden commander's armor and makeshift spear, before plunging the tip into his own paw.
Splat
His blood seeped onto the ground, pooling beneath him as Gaea's hair fluttered in the air, an expression of rage flashing across her features.
Alexander looked her dead in the eye, unwavering, his resolve as solid as the spear in his hand.
"I control my life and not you, not anyone, can ever tell me otherwise."
Those words were powerful, more powerful than any mere words etched in stone as he didn't even flinch when drawing his own blood, let alone considering taking his own life.
"You need me, I do not need you."
With those words hanging in the air, Alexander turned away, leaving Gaea staring after him, her eyes narrowed in simmering frustration.
"You will fulfill your destiny, your fate." Gaea spoke from behind him, knowing that even he couldn't escape what was already decided for him.
"Maybe so, but it will be at my own grand design." Alexander slowly came to a stop, side-eyeing Gaia without hesitation or fear.
"Not yours."
"Ha!" Gaea laughed, but it was not filled with warmth as she stormed after Alexander, almost chasing after him as he walked back onto Ricky's path, heading toward the trees that had the curtain of shadows signaling their way out.
"Do you know what it's like to see your children die, in different worlds, in different timelines?" Gaea genuinely asked, her voice low and almost vulnerable as her gaze shifted toward Ricky, who was ogling some nearby busty druids with a hateful glare, all while Shadow Broker stood at the side, watching the exchange with a quiet intensity and ripping another piece of paper.
"I thought we were finished with all of this?" Ricky said, gesturing towards Gaea while looking down at Alexander, who was walking over to him and crawling back onto his shoulder.
"She isn't one to let things go," Alexander replied, his eyes shifting toward Gaea.
The goddess stood there, her expression no longer filled with a subtle mocking smile, but with a raw, unmistakable fury that seemed to ignite the air around them.
"Do you!" Gaea raised her voice for the first time, dropping the facade and looking upon Ricky who shrugged at her with the rose pedal still wedged between his fingers.
"No, but I'm guessing you do?"
"I am currently living 126 lives, looking through the lens of 126 pairs of eyes, gazing upon 126 different worlds, each with 126 different timelines," Gaea spoke, her voice low and filled with an unsettling gravity that indirectly told Ricky how many worlds resided in the cluster around Otherworld.
"In every single one, I create this world, I create the living beings, and I birth beautiful children." Gaea's gaze darkened as she continued, her words dripping with sorrow and bitter experience.
"And then I watch them kill each other, enslave each other, and seal away each other." Gaea's words came out like a curse, her hands clenching as if the weight of those lifetimes bore down on her.
"Even for the simplest reasons, ranging from what they believe to how they appear." Gaea's voice grew heavier with each word, the sorrow and frustration dripping from her like poison though one couldn't tell if this was another one of her schemes, subtle manipulation tactics, or her genuine feelings.
"And do you know the worst part?" Gaea asked, her tone shifting to one of what appeared to be genuine pain as she lowered herself, leaning in close to Ricky, locking eyes with him.
"You always whine about it?" Ricky countered, looking upon the mother goddess with a frown since he wasn't a therapist that she should unload all her grief upon.
"That I'm powerless to do anything about it," Gaea whispered, the words carrying an eternity's worth of helplessness.
"Every living being within these earths are of my creation, even you, Ricky Luciano." Gaea raised her finger, and with it, a pulse of energy radiated outward, a subtle command that resonated with the very core of life itself.
"My divinity lies in providing the life essence that every living being carries," Gaea continued, her voice soft yet unyielding, her eyes never leaving Ricky's.
"I am the goddess of life, bound to this beautiful rock, the one that birthed me and where my essence will forever remain." Gaea paused for a moment, letting the gravity of her words settle before adding,.
"I am not a living being, per se, but the very culmination of all life that exists upon it," Gaea mentioned, her gaze flickering to Alexander, squinting at him before returning to Ricky.
"So, are you pissed about Alexander totally rejecting your ugly ass, or are you pissed about the war and me killing things?" Ricky asked, his tone casual but with a sharp edge, like he was looking for something more.
Although it was fun to do, he wasn't just poking the bear for the sake of it since Ricky tried to actually use and work this line of conversation to his advantage.
It was naive to try to manipulate Gaea but this was an opportunity, one he couldn't waste.
He threw in the war part, aware that Gaea might deflect, but he was hoping to understand more of why the hell Merlyn wanted to get involved, and why the war mattered in the grand scheme of things.
It was all connected but Ricky still didn't understand why and he just wanted some semblance of crumbs of information to build a bigger picture.
"No, death is impossible to stop," Gaea replied, her voice low, almost pained.
"But as a father, would you simply stand by and watch your children die if there was something you could do about it?" Gaea's words hit with a quiet intensity, as if they were more than just a question, more like a challenge.
"No, I wouldn't." Ricky actually was honest when he said this, looking at Gaea since although she sucked, he understood what she meant at this moment.
"I am the same."
"I was created with the ability to harness and control life essence," Gaea continued, her voice steady but laced with something deeper.
"But it is merely a supportive power that does no true harm, since it was designed to create life." Gaea paused, her eyes narrowing as if she were seeing something far off in the distance.
"It is why I needed someone, why I asked my daughters, the fates, for an answer." Gaea said, unknowingly speaking of the prophecy that was regarded in mythos as the one told to Zeus which would dethrone him from his throne.
"They gave me a prophecy of the promised king-"
By the hands of three, the threads are spun,
A king shall rise, the fated one.
With steel in hand and stars in sight,
He carves his name in endless night.
The lion crowned in golden light,
Shall forge an age of peace and might.
Yet betrayed by blood, by fate undone,
His reign shall break, his time be gone.
The sword shall rest, the earth shall mourn,
A king laid low, a crown forlorn.
But death's embrace shall prove too weak,
The silent halls shall hear him speak.
Beyond the veil, he strikes anew,
A ruler forged, his will is true.
Not in the land of mist and dream,
But where the sun's fierce embers gleam.
The world shall bow, the age shall turn,
The promised king returns to burn.
Not from a fallen's whispered breath,
But from the fire that cheats all death.
"It is true, that I am connected to Merlyn, to you, on both fronts," Gaea spoke, her voice soft yet insistent, as if trying to make Alexander see the weight of what she was saying.
"But it is through this prophecy that chains us." Gaea's words hung in the air, trying to convince him of his importance in a game far larger than either of them.
But the Gerbil, Alexander, was having none of it as he stood unfazed, arms crossed, his expression as cold as ever.
"But Merlyn, like me, saw the ruin of the living, but he blamed it solely on mankind." Gaea more or less hinted, speaking volumes towards Ricky who was trying not to get swept away by her weird way of speaking words.
"Instead of helping me, he chose to create the promised king, rather than letting the potential of creation itself flourish." Gaea spoke towards things that only she herself knew, continuing on as if to choke Ricky in more questions.
"Wait, so, wait," Ricky suddenly interrupted, raising his hand like he was in a classroom as he looked between Gaea and Alexander
"Did Merlyn create everything-"
"Everything that has happened to Arthur Pendragon has been by Merlyn's so-called 'Grand Design' so yes." Gaea said, revealing this fact easily for some specific reason as Ricky tried not to show he was interested.
"What about the sword in the stone, the very thing that marked my friend as the king of Camelot?" Lancelot finally stepped forward, taking control of his own voice for once, unable to remain silent any longer.
"That was the catalyst, the thing Merlyn created with such unfathomable expectations, something only one in a trillion could have possibly succeeded at." Gaea informed Lancelot, turning her predatory gaze at the emotionally wounded knight.
"So from that point on-"
"Yes, Merlyn didn't guide Alexander like I did. He created the king, he created Arthur, and fabricated this little replica of a kingdom and comrades, including you." Gaea's words hit their mark, striking a chord deep within.
Ricky, however, stayed silent, stepping to the side and observing the unfolding scene, his gaze shifting between them both.
"N-No, but I betrayed Arthur, he didn't-" Lancelot stammered, his voice raw, scraping against his throat as he clutched his rusted chestplate.
"You fell in love with Guinevere because Merlyn pushed her into your arms." Gaea's revelation pierced through the air, and Lancelot's knees buckled as the weight of the truth crashed down upon him.
He collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by the rush of images and memories flooding his very eyes, pieces of his life suddenly making sense in the worst possible way.
Gaea held up her hands, and with a swift motion, she conjured orbs that shimmered with ethereal light.
Inside each orb, images of Merlyn played out, each one showing the wizard's careful orchestration of events.
These were not just moments of fate, but the deliberate manipulations of a being who had long since lost sight of the humanity he once claimed to guide.
It was Merlyn's hand, weaving a grand design that trapped everyone; Lancelot, Arthur, Guinevere, within a web of his own making.
Even the other fallen knights, the ones Merlyn had cursed alongside him, were manipulated in ways they never realized.
The orbs were slowly unraveling of truth, revealing how Merlyn had whispered dark thoughts into their ears, grooming them for cruelty.
He didn't just twist the minds of the knights; he poisoned the very bloodline of Camelot, of Arthur itself.
Arthur's bastard son, Mordred, had been one of Merlyn's most tragic creations.
With every word, every subtle push, Merlyn planted seeds of hatred and betrayal in the young man's heart.
What could have been a legacy of greatness was instead twisted into a story of destruction.
Mordred, raised in secrecy and shame, became the perfect tool for Merlyn's schemes.
The wizard saw his potential for cruelty, and he nurtured it, nurtured him towards the prophecy, knowing that a son born of betrayal could wreak havoc on Camelot, its people, but most of all, fulfill a single line within his grand schemes.
With every word Merlyn spoke to him, he shaped Mordred into the very weapon that would ultimately tear Arthur's kingdom apart.
The knights, Lancelot, were just mere puppets in a game they had never agreed to play.
Each one of them had been a victim of Merlyn's cruel designs, their fates sealed by his manipulation and almost none of their fates up until now had been of their own but decided on by him from the very start.
"He turned me into a monster because of my sins against Arthur, and I thought-...I thought it was my fault?" Lancelot's voice trembled as he gazed down at his own horrific appearance, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
The entire reason he was comfortable in his skin was because of the fact he thought he was repenting for his sin.
But the truth, the one coming from his patron Mother goddess, was crushing him, each revelation peeling back layers of his soul that he had long buried, long been tainted, and long been rotted.
"Are you to say that Merlyn knew this the whole time, and he was the one who created it?" Lancelot's voice cracked, the sheer disbelief in his words heavy in the air as his mind couldn't process the reality of it.
"I'm telling you that he had been controlling you longer than that," Gaea's voice was cold, unwavering as the pieces were falling into place, and Lancelot's world was shattering around him.
"What about Arthur? WHAT ABOUT HIM!" Lancelot's rage ignited as he roared, his voice raw with anguish while black blood spurted from his mouth, staining the lush green earth beneath him.
While this worldly revelation was proning on, Ricky remained silent, his eyes fixed on Lancelot's unraveling mind.
Ricky understood what this situation meant and the heavy silence between each word that pierced the air.
The truth was ugly, and Ricky sort of guessed the truth wasn't entirely what Gaea was saying since she didn't speak of much of the memories but simply showed them to Lancelot.
There were many occasions that she was even lying but in the end, Ricky didn't correct her in the slightest.
He needed someone like Lancelot in his corner, someone who could stand firm, someone who could fight for him without the manipulation that Merlyn had weaved so thoroughly into his life.
He let Gaea continue her narrative, knowing that, even if it wasn't entirely the truth, the pieces she offered were just as essential for this moment, the moment Lancelot would become his knight.
"ARE YOU TELLING ME HE SET FORTH HIS KING TO DIE, TO BE BUTCHERED!" Lancelot's voice echoed through the air, his fury raw and unfiltered as his eyes once hollow, filled with an untamed rage like no other.
"THAT MERLYN KNEW HE WOULD DIE AND SENT HIM ANYWAYS, THAT MERLYN KNEW OF THE KINGDOMS THAT EYED THE PEACE OF CAMELOT AND LET THEM ATTACK ANYWAYS, AND-"
Sniff
Lancelot's breath hitched, his anger faltering for just a moment, replaced by a deep sense of sorrow and confusion.
"And that he knew he would die and sent him anyway?" Lancelot's voice was quieter now, softer, as it all had crushed the very strength that once defined him.
Even though he had betrayed Arthur, in the greatest sense of the word, he was still his closest friend.
Lancelot cared for Arthur, truly cared for the man and as he lifted his gaze to meet Gaea's,only one question remained in his mind that made his emotions palpable.
"Was anything I did up to this point, real?" Lancelot's voice trembled with a mix of grief and betrayal as he awaited her answer.
But Gaea closed her eyes, the sorrow in her expression more telling than any words she could have spoken. She shook her head slowly, the motion speaking volumes.
"S-So Guinevere didn't have to die?" Lancelot's voice trembled, barely a whisper at first. His face contorted in anguish as the weight of the revelation settled over him.
Sniff
"She didn't have to die~" Lancelot's breath hitched again, the grief choking him as he struggled to hold back his tears.
HIC
"She didn't have to die!" Lancelot's words broke free, raw and desperate, as the pain of his past mistakes shattered his composure as his hands just dug into the earth, his body shaking uncontrollably at this realization as blood poured from his undead armor.
It was unknown whether it was his tears or the pain he felt from speaking, but one thing remained true throughout this fact.
"SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO DIE!" Lancelot's voice grew louder, a guttural scream of anguish as his emotions tore through him, and the sound of it echoed in the air, resonating with a heartbreak so deep that it seemed to reverberate through the very land itself.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lancelot roared, a scream that reverberated with sorrow and fury.
He slammed his head into the grass, his body collapsing in the wake of the emotional hurricane that had taken hold of him.
It was then that Ricky's eyes widened at Gaea smiling at him, seemingly giving him this gift as an apology of some sorts or maybe a bribe, for it was impossible to tell with her and these speculations were merely the first thing that came to his mind.
But one thing was for sure, Gaea had done this on purpose, breaking Lancelot's faith in Merlyn so easily and effectively strengthening Ricky in the process.
"We need him." Alexander whispered under his breath, understanding what it was she was doing as well but knowing that they needed his strength and immortality for the upcoming siege.
"I just feel f*cking slimy when she gives me sh*t, like, it's the reason I haven't done anything with this flower petal," Ricky whispered, holding the delicate petal out to Alexander as he pushed it away and stared directly into his eyes.
"I understand, but swallow your pride along with-...this pedal, and go." Alexander said, knowing that it was a bad thing to receive anything from Gaea but knew Ricky didn't have a choice, needing all the strength he could muster.
"Do I eat it?" Ricky asked, looking up at Gaea and she slowly nodded, her emotional shift fading as she returned to her calm facade.
Ricky placed the petal on his tongue as it melted slowly, its earthy taste lingering, probably because he hadn't bothered to wash it first.
Chastiefol (Mastery: 21→100%)
Ding
[Chastiefol Mastery Will Be Temporarily Unlocked For: 23:59:59]
Although the mastery increased from ingesting it, the petal had the effect of unlocking all of Chastiefol's abilities and forms for a limited duration.
Ricky grabbed his fist, opening and closing it but didn't feel all that different in the first place while walking over to Lancelot.
BAM
BAM
BAM
Lancelot was relentlessly bashing his head into the ground at this point, unable to truly hurt himself for long as his injuries healed as quickly as they were inflicted as Ricky slowly kneeled next to him.
"Lancelot, it's not your fault." Ricky said, putting his hand on the death's knight's shoulder as he continued his repetitions of head slamming.
"I know~" Lancelot muttered out with sheer grief, slamming his forehead into the ground but Ricky shook his head.
"No, you don't, listen, it's not your fault." Ricky repeated, as if his earlier words weren't heard the first time and needed to repeat them once more.
"I know-"
"It's not your fault." Ricky said, interrupting him again, watching Lancelot slowly turn his horrid, undead face up to directly look at him.
"Please, I ask that you not patronize me-"
"Lancelot, buddy, it's not your fault-"
BAM
Ricky's jaw was slammed the next second, Lancelot plummeting his fist into it as the aggressive knight lunged at him as he let himself be struck.
"STOP IT, STOP YOUR NEEDLESS CHATTER!" Lancelot roared, his fury evident while Ricky wiped his mouth, a faint smirk curling on his lips as he looked up at him.
"It ain't your fault."
Lancelot went to strike Ricky again, but his face contorted in pain as black tears streamed down his cheeks as he shook his head, the weight of it all finally catching up with him.
SNIFF
Lancelot covered his face, falling to his knees, for his life, and even his life after death, had been met with countless years of misery.
No one could ever know what it was like to have their entire existence laid out before them, controlled and manipulated to serve a predetermined purpose.
It wasn't that, out of the twelve knights of the Round Table, he was inherently bad.
But he simply hadn't been on the side Merlyn had chosen when he split the order down the middle.
In truth, all twelve knights were good at heart, noble in their intentions and yet, Merlyn had drawn six into the shadow while the others basked in the light.
And so, by mere chance, Lancelot had been turned into this wretched creature.
By mere chance, the love of his life had perished.
By mere chance, he had betrayed his best friend.
Fate hadn't made him their plaything, Merlyn did.
Ricky didn't care about the other eleven, but now that Lancelot was his mythical undead servant, his fist mythical undead, he cared.
"It ain't your fault," Ricky said, his voice steady, as he patted Lancelot's trembling shoulder.
Lancelot, shaking and broken, grabbed Ricky's hand, to retaliate but his strength failed him as he slowly crumbled back to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lancelot screamed, his raw agony tearing through the air, echoing into the night, as the weight of everything he had been, everything he had done, crushed him completely.
"I know it's sh*tty to ask and I know you probably hate me, but f*cking help me." Ricky seethed, thumping his chest and lowering his face looking Lancelot in his undead eyes.
"Help me kill him, help me-"
"Cease your wicked temptations, your wicked reasonings." Lancelot interrupted, pushing himself away from Ricky.
Lancelot's body shook, but a renewed sense of purpose swelled in his hollow eyes and as he staggered to his feet, his armor creaking with every movement, and with his arm-sword, he pointed it at Ricky.
His past, his sins, and the long years of bitterness and regret were there, but so was something else.
A fire.
"For this matter, for the fight that is brewing against Merlyn, I will fight on your side." Lancelot's voice was hard, resolute, but something else lingered underneath, the sharp edge of an oath long upheld, a knight's oath.
He steeled his heart, preparing himself for the words he had to say next as the words that, despite everything, he needed to speak, for his honor, for his brotherhood, for his fallen king.
"But I do so for my true liege, to avenge my fallen brother, Arthur Pendragon."
The words rang out like a bell, resonating with Lancelot's undying loyalty to the man who had once been his king and his best friend.
This was more than just a fight, it was his redemption.
And even if it meant standing at Ricky's side, Lancelot would fight for the vengeance of Camelot, for the king he had betrayed, and for the memory of the brother he had lost.
"I do not care for your wicked and vile purposes, but merely a chance to finally rid Merlyn from the glory that is Camelot-" Lancelot's voice was firm, but there was a weariness in it that spoke to his long suffering.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Ricky waved a dismissive hand, cutting Lancelot off before the knight could finish.
"After the fight, you're just gonna hate me, I get it since all that matters is that Merlyn dies." Ricky's words were blunt, no pretense, no lofty ideals.
His gaze remained steady on Lancelot, watching him closely, his hand now extended in a silent offer.
Lancelot hesitated, eyes narrowing as he stared at Ricky's outstretched hand as his pride, his honor, the weight of centuries of duty, all collided in that moment.
But in the end, there was only one thing that mattered after all of this.
"All that matters is that Merlyn dies." Lancelot spoke with a newfound resolve, his grip firm on Ricky's hand as he turned towards the curtain of shadows ahead, his voice steady but filled with purpose.
"I'll be seeing you." Gaea's voice was calm, yet there was something unsettling in it, as if she knew more than she let on as her eyes, filled with ancient wisdom, followed them as they walked away.
"I doubt it-"
"I'll be seeing you, soon." Gaea's voice interrupted Ricky's words, her tone laced with a cryptic calmness that seemed to linger in the air.
Ricky didn't look back, only scoffing as he flipped her off without missing a beat, continuing his stride out of her dimension.
Gaea, however, merely watched, her gaze never leaving him. She made no move to stop him, her presence heavy with a sense of something yet to unfold.
Her hands were folded in front of her, standing still as Ricky, Alexander, and Lancelot disappeared into the shifting shadows, slipping out of her grasp.
For a while, after they all left, Gaea simply stood at the sight, her gaze stern, the embers of anger flickering in her eyes like a storm on the horizon, daring anyone to challenge her.
"You were too crass at the end." The words broke the silence, coming from within the depths of the great tree, its bark groaning as if it too were a witness to the events that had unfolded.
The mother goddess, Gaea, who had been so composed and regal, now immediately knelt before the ancient, living entity that had spoken.
"Everything up to the memory of our dear Alexander was sublime." The voice continued, soft but cutting, the bark slowly opening its eyes to reveal similar green as those of what was Gaea.
"But upon seeing our little one refuse his destiny, you became too emotional." The words groaned, breaking free from the confines of the tree and fully displessing all the roots that entangled her.
"I apologize, Mother Gaea. I didn't mean to jeopardize you in any way," The woman whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt before the tree, her form unraveling with each passing second.
It was at this moment, the illusion was shattered, revealing her true nature not as Gaea herself, but a fragment slowly disintegrating from the very tree that had once birthed her.
From the very beginning, Ricky hadn't questioned whether this being was truly Gaea.
It wasn't even clear if this figure was a part of the real Gaea or an imitation created by the lingering druids who had watched from the sidelines, their intentions unclear, their roles uncertain.
But one thing had always been clear: The true Mother Gaea, the real goddess of life, and the being that formed the core of Gaea's existence, was the one to whom this version of Gaea now knelt.
"Cease your needless thoughts, my child. You did splendidly," Gaea's voice came so divine, so soothing, that it seemed to resonate with the earth itself.
The regal beauty of the true Gaea revealed itself before the woman, her form aglow with an ethereal light, almost as if the very air had been shaped to honor her presence.
With a soft, maternal gesture, Gaea smiled warmly, her hand moving to gently crease the chin of the woman kneeling before her.
"Do not doubt yourself, for you are a part of me, as much as I am a part of you. Together, we will shape the world as it must be." Gaea soothed her unease mind, pressing her forehead against hers.
The woman's eyes flickered with a mixture of awe and relief before she closed them, her body slowly surrendering to the warmth of Gaea's touch.
It was then that she felt whole again, her own uncertainty lifting as she was gifted with the true depth of her connection to the true goddess Gaea.
"Thank you, Mother," This unknown woman now whispered, her voice breaking slightly.
"I will serve you always."
Meanwhile, within the cold, flowing river that cut through the Brooklyn Port, the sun slowly drifted downward, heralding a night the Luciano family would never forget.
But it would be from these very waters that the catalyst for what would be deemed 'The Long Night of 36' was about to rise, a night that would change everything that was meant to be and reshape the city as a whole.
GASP
Author's Note: I ain't a poet, don't hate. Also, I ripped that speech from a crazy awesome youtube video called 'The greatest speech in history? Alexander the great and the opis mutiny' and lemme tell you, it is f*cking motivoinal. Literally whenever I don't feel like going to the gym or writing, I listen to this vid and I just feel like I have to fight for Macedonia. It's why I had to put it in this fic cause I fw it heavy yall should watch it. Also hang with all the naruto speehces that Ricky's doing cause it all makes sense later.