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Hvergelmir spun on her heel, alarmed, to look at the Code as it spoke to them. As it . . . laughed?

Wasn't this the same Code that had told them before it was an extant force without feelings or motivations?

Her eyes flickered back to the seats briefly to register the disturbance there. It was -- somewhat unsurprisingly -- Kairatos, already out of his seat and incensed. She couldn't say she blamed him; for him especially, this line of argument had to have been painful. But they'd already learned, before, that the Code as it existed here was an intangible object, and not something they could hit.

Not that she believed in physical violence as a display of emotion under any circumstance, regardless -- it was no reflection of mankind's better nature.

She put up a hand in Kairatos's direction, stayingly, and hoped he'd go along with it. Something like this, toward the end of what had been such a productive, positive meeting, was all but disastrous as it was. Encouraging a sense of resentment among the group would only make things worse.

"Kai, please," she requested, as gently as she could manage.

To the Code, Hvergelmir said, more equitably: "We live in a modern world. The values we held a thousand years or more ago are not the same values we hold now. Our society isn't built on marriage alliances. Monarchism is a dying tradition, in a world where we recognize the value of all people as equal. I might not be happy to have someone withdraw from a political alliance, and I might be more cautious in the future -- but it would be absurd to go to war over it. Nowadays, a political snub like that is so minor, and so common, as to be barely worth mentioning. Most politicians lie. A thousand years ago, things may have been different -- but not that different. Sacking a city and waging war on an empire for the sake of someone's personal pride aren't things we consider justified anymore. We value people highly enough not to spend their lives so cheaply. Forgive me for saying so, but . . . this isn't like you."

She paused.

"Can they see us here? Is this place safe?"

"These were our homeworlds, and they're still the source of our powers, but unless we can save Earth, there's no chance to fight for dead worlds, dead wonders! Especially if the very source of our powers starts chanting the same s**t the Negaverse uses to justify the murder of people who don't have a say in some dead woman's grudge, and politics that literally have no damn place anymore. My home is on earth until there's enough of a foot hold to try and fight to bring back Mars. I fell for that line once, I'm not doing it again, and I'm not justifying what I did then because I can't, but I'm sure as hell not drinking the goddamn Koolaid again. Or is whoever seems to be whispering in your ear forget to tell you that Realgar wasn't too ******** good at respecting political crap either? Because I'll say it as many times as it takes, I have heard the line you're selling tonight before, and I'm over it.

You want me to worry about a princess I haven't met? Find me the lady of Mars. She can tell me herself if she thinks I'm doing the right thing, and I'll decide for myself if I stand with her or tell her where to stick it too. We have to focus on fighting the front we're at."

He didn't approach further, but Hver, close enough at hand, would likely be able to feel the tension in him, held back if only because he didn't know his target. Not yet. But he suspected. Oh he suspected.

Cordoba had only come to put the nagging pull in her mind to quiet. The Mercury Page had mostly listened, detatched frtom the numbers she did noty know - by some glowing ball of light she didn't even know of.

And while the knights seemed able to behave, the swirling, revolving light of the thing - whatever the called the Code - had spoken. Cordoba's brows had raised at this, not expecting disembodied light to speak in disembodied voices, but she was still wondering how this magic thing worked - and why in hell she was stuck in this ********. Still, she listened, brushing hair from her eyes and frowned, raising her brow to the Code, and the page sniffed, muttering almost loudly from her position, hung back a few feet from the others,

"Ghost at my Wonder was nicer." She grumbled. It was true; her ancestor seemed to have more sense from her lone visit than this glowing ball of light that was shouting and snarling, but rather than ask it her own questions - why she was here, why she was supposed to be fighting, or anything - she nodded towards it, ignoring common manners or even a how-do-you-do to address it directly with a tone that was far more snappy than usual.

"Don't be an a*****e at people for asking questions." The page snapped. She moved, uncrossing her arms as she approached slowly, gait slow, smooth and firm, sniffing.

"Peple might, you know, listen more if you didn't immediately berate or b***h them out. People can dilike something, and if you're going to be an insulting douchebag, why should anyone listen to you?"

The last phrase was all but spat, face twisted into a snarling grimace before she raised a middle finger idly, not caring if she was scolding.

"My lord, you are the least helpful entity I've ever seen."

She paused, looking around, mentally noting to pay her Wonder a visit to apologize to her ancestor for snippery later before shrugging awkwardly, stepping back a bit.

"...hi. Sorry. I.. Yeah. It just. Angry. Iyt. Ruyde. Yeah."

Clearly, the page was as skilled with words as Shakespeare, reflected by how she sank back a bit nervously, and sighed. She wasn't apologizing to the Code however.

There was a presence behind Babylon, as if someone was standing there. No one was, but the Code swirled more. The mist swirled, almost like it was looking at him. Olympus was not a place for secrets—not from the Code.

But it could focus on more the outbursts of those like Kairatos and Cordoba.

"So that's it, then?" The Code asked; it was rhetoric. "Is my guidance only worth listening to when it suits your needs? Forgive me if I don't pander to the delicate needs of those who approach me with hostility. Was I to bend over backwards, to apologize—for sharing experience? For asking you to consider more than just the Chaos you seem so fixated on? But it's absolutely fine to yell at me, or insult me? I don't understand."

The Mist shifted; it still took no solid form, but it seemed unable to stop moving.

"I never justified the killing. I never wanted that to happen. Not to the Knights. Not my Knights."

For as emotionless as the Code was supposed to be, it sounded like it was hurting.

"Not to anyone. You hear words I do not speak. I did not spare Beryl from blame. I said consider the other side—the balance. There can be no balance when you see only black and white. Good and bad are illusions. Beryl was not always Queen of the Negaverse, and she was not always evil. You are deluding yourselves if you think the only evil you will ever face wears Metallia's face. And you are deluding yourselves by imposing words on me. I have been honest with you. I have given you answers, and power, and access to this sacred place, and you have come to me with disrespect and hostility. I did not expect all Knights to understand, but I did not expect this. You few are a poor representation of the Knighthood. If you only seek to fight with me, stop coming here. Stop powering up, stop fighting. Go home and live your lives without me. Protect your planet without abusing the power I share with you. Stop pretending like I'm your problem. I told you to look at both sides and you lash out at me? If the truth hurts, get over it. You disappoint me as protectors of this universe. You're so blind and arrogant and selfish that you can't listen. If you don't change, you will never save Earth. You can't even save yourselves."

"Oh yes, because people will happily listen to a ball of who knows what that's being a complete dickshit at them for 'their own good'. Yes, this works wonders. Truly, a brilliant gesture." Cordoba huffed, not seeming to care, nor did she dare draw too close again.

"But by what right do you order us around? Insult us for our views? That's screwed up it is." She rolled her eyes. Save the world, protect the Universe - it made as much sense to the very still-new Page and she raised both brows now with a dry expression, motioning as it choosing between another series of rude gestures or a dry lecture. She chose the latter.

"Clearly, you don't work with modern people. You're what can best be called ignorant in more ways than one. I don't know what tjhis knighthood thing is to you, but maybe to people from this time it means something different. But of course yiou're so wrapped up in some old fashioned nonsense you miss the actual fact definitions and people change, just like, say, clothing, or music."

Was it smart enough to know what? Probably not. Diud she care? No, but she probably ought to - however the Page was irritated, needled, and prickly by the Code's claims, and she wasn;t in the mood to sit idly.

"Then again, you claim we're blowing you off and insulting everyone. Colossal, as we say in the world of reality, hypocrite."

For a moment, the mist remained a shapeless mass. "You, I would forgive, Hvergelmir. I am not opposed to questions. And I would forgive all Knights who have not reacted poorly. I hold no grudge against any Knight who listens with an open mind. But allow me to remind you how we got to this point."

The Code flashed white and then, as if a recording was playing, repeated exactly what it had first said after Hvergelmir recited the history.



But then, it did something different. It took the form of Kairatos; the mist replicated his face, his voice:



It shifted to take Cordoba's face, her voice.



It transformed into Mistral's thumbs up at Cordoba's outburst.

And then it shifted back into its plain, swirling mass.

"I will answer questions. I will give direction. But I am done dealing with Knights that would impose hostility and dissent amongst their companions. I will not tolerate this any longer. If you insult me, if you do not listen with respect and an open mind, you will not be invited back here. I will remove you, myself."

Everything was really going fine. She nodded at Babylon and Hver, she listened, hell she was willing to ignore the Code's presence for the most part.

And then the ******** spoke.

She listened to it yell, to it try to tear down their self esteem, being that stick in the mud old man who wanted the kids to get off his lawn. With each word, her scowl deepened, and darkened, and she wondered if this was why they could not summon their weapons.

Andronicus stood at the insinuation that they - more over, she - was waiting for a dead princess. She stepped down towards the center of the coliseum as it transformed into different people and mocked them. She kept her composure, just barely.

"One would argue you're doing a right good job of that yourself Code. Insulting us. If you want us to follow your lead, then lead. Don't just float there expecting us to act like our ancestors or our past lives. Inaction is just as bad as action for the wrong reason." The squire held her head up, and tilted it just so.

"So for a start, what is so important in the Academy - besides a connection to the past - that you want us to fight for it back so badly? Do we get bladed weaponry? Do we suddenly get the ability to teleport about, or something the senshi or Negaverse don't have? What makes it so damn important?" If no one else was going ot ask, or simply spend the squabbling, she was going to take the lead on it. Because damn if she was going to try to liberate the Rift if she didn't know why.