Delphyne and Alfia were no more, and Erebus had been taken into custody.
Once this news spread to the surface, Orario’s protectors let out a cheer that rippled through every part of the city. Adventurers celebrated, while gods breathed a sigh of relief. Any remaining Evils had either fled the city or gone into hiding underground, and there were not enough of them to stage a meaningful counterattack. The rumbling from below had ceased, too, signaling an end to the worst of the fighting.
The dark, ashy clouds finally cleared above Orario, bathing the city of heroes in the light of sunset.
The rejoicing continued. By nightfall, the civilians had been let out of their strongholds, and they took to the streets in celebration. Strangers hugged one another, and everyone praised the adventurers who had fought so hard on their behalf that their weapons and armor were almost broken.
The adventurers shed tears for those they’d lost; their brave comrades, and the nameless heroes who had come before and given their lives.
Eventually, joy turned to rage, and people flocked the base of Babel to bear witness to their foe’s execution. Central Park was teeming with so many people that not everyone could fit there, and some had to climb atop buildings to get a good view.
Atop the tower stood two gods: one of justice, and one of evil.
“It’s the first time I’ve come up here, you know,” said Erebus, scratching behind his earlobe. “Just look at that view. There can’t be a better one in the whole city, am I right?”
The night wind ruffled his jet-black hair. Even from his position at the center of Babel’s rooftop, he could see much of the lamplit city beneath. Beneath those lamps stood the people of this fine city, eagerly awaiting his death.
“…I suppose I do have one, tiny complaint,” he said at last, returning his gaze to the two figures ahead of him. “Hermes, my old friend. Why are you here? Come to make sure I don’t weasel my way out of this?”
“Something like that,” the messenger god replied. “Sorry I couldn’t leave you two alone, but hey, pretend I’m not here, and you got exactly what you asked for.”
Under his watchful gaze, Erebus shrugged. Then Astrea silently approached him.
“It’s just the three of us now,” she said. “Everyone else is down there watching us.”
In one hand, she held a silver straight sword modeled after a set of scales—a weapon that looked extremely out of place in the hands of one so benevolent as she.
“The blade of justice,” said Erebus. “Of judgment. Why, it’s almost as beautiful as you are.”
Then he spread his arms wide.
“Do it,” he said. “Make it quick. Don’t think you get to torment me just because I’m evil. Even I feel pain…and I wouldn’t be caught dead screaming like a woman.”
He grinned. To the very end, he seemed to regard justice with a sense of smug superiority.
But Astrea did not frown in anger, nor did she offer any judgmental words. She only regarded him for a moment, then spoke.
“First,” she said, “I have something to ask you.”
“Ohh, you do like to keep me on the edge, don’t you? What could you possibly want to ask of someone as evil as me?”
Erebus received his answer soon enough.
“What is justice?”
“………”
That was the moment the dark god’s smile vanished. His eyes flew wide, and he stared at Astrea with pure, unmitigated shock.
“Astrea! What are you…?”
Hermes was just as surprised. But Astrea went on.
“You kept asking us that question, didn’t you? What is justice? How far does it go? And if we know, then we should prove it to you.”
Ever since the day he first appeared before Lyu in the form of Eren, Erebus had been demanding to know the true form of justice. Even after his grand reveal, he still came to Lyu, seeking her answer. He’d asked Lyra, Kaguya, and even Astrea herself about this concept, which lay at the far opposite end of the spectrum of morality.
“It’s almost as if,” said Astrea, “you were guiding us. At least, that’s how I saw it.”
“………”
“And now your work is done.”
Erebus remained silent and expressionless as Astrea spoke.
“Because you have your answer. You’ve seen them fight. You’ve seen them rise.”
At last, Erebus gave a twisted grin.
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Astrea.”
“Oh, no, Erebus. You’re not talking your way out of this one, I’m afraid.”
Astrea smiled sweetly.
“We can always do this down there, in front of all those people, if you prefer?”
“…Are you really a goddess of justice?” Erebus sighed. “Because right now, you seem more like a hunter, like that Artemis.”
Astrea’s threats caused Erebus to wear a frown for the first time.
“That’s rude to her,” Astrea said, still smiling. “She’s far more innocent and pure than I am.”
“I think you’re both probably equally bad,” said Hermes, off to one side.
A bead of sweat worked its way down Erebus’s temple, and he let out a resigned sigh. “I should have known you wouldn’t let me keep my dignity.”
Compared to the smile of evil, this one was altogether different.
“I am glad you feel that way,” said Astrea. “Consider it punishment for all the trouble you’ve caused.”
“…I should have asked someone else,” said Erebus, looking into her sweet yet mischievous smile.
Her eyes were the same shade as the starlit sky above. Erebus lifted his head and braced his eyelids against the wind, awaiting the moment he would pay the price for his sins.
“Hrgh… Hrgh… Hrgh…!”
One man huffed and puffed his way up the seemingly endless stairs. His wounds only partially healed, Vito trained his eyes on the top of Babel.
“Grh… My…master… Erebus!”
Having escaped the Dungeon using his hidden passage, Vito emerged on the streets of Orario, careful to escape detection by its jubilant adventurers. He sneakily made his way to the tower before slipping inside.
He had failed to stem the bleeding completely, and the arm that Kaguya had sliced off was still missing, but Vito pushed himself on to be by his dark master’s side. However, it was not to save him from the blade of justice.
“What are you doing…? What were you thinking…?”
Down on the eighteenth floor, when the two had locked eyes at the very end, Vito had seen something. A look in his dark god’s eyes, saying, Live.
He needed to ask Erebus what it meant. Was he not evil? Was his cruel and callous nature not precisely what had charmed Vito in the first place, and driven him to sacrifice so much when he refused to serve anyone else?
Vito had to know what it meant. Though his body felt like lead, he dragged himself on, hurling himself up the countless steps, until at last, he reached the rooftop and saw his master standing beneath the starry sky.
“!!”