View source for U-ARCADIA02 (Aug 21, 2022)

<span style="font-size: 40px;"><strong><center>U-ARCADIA02</center></strong></span>
__TOC__
<h1>Puzzle</h1>
<p style="text-align:center;font-size: 20px">"Divine Creation."<br>
Knowledge – 0 | 1 Word</p>
<h1>Clue</h1>
<span style="font-size: 20px"><strong>Hover over the clues if you require!</strong></span><br>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Clue 1: <span class="spoiler-text">Or, I suppose, an instrument of it.</span></span><br>
<h1>Answer and Explanation</h1>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Answer: <span class="spoiler-text">Pocketwatch</span></span><br>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Explanation: <span class="spoiler-text">In CD-WTC04, of Year Zero, Jean-Marc says that the Pocketwatch is an instrument of divine creation.</span></span>
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<span style="font-size: 20px; color:orange"><strong><center>⚠️BEWARE: THIS IS DECLASSIFIED INFORMATION. WARY EYES ONLY. ENTER AT OWN RISK.⚠️</center></strong></span><br>
<h1>Summary of Receipt</h1>
<span style="font-size: 20px">Summary</span>
<h1>Transcript</h1>
<span>In a vast white room nestled within the eerie ruins of the Universe prior, three of Demiurge's creations—Metatron, Abaddon, and Uriel—sat on one side of a massive marble table. Opposite them, the seven children of Eve and Abraxas awaited. A large map of what remained of Arcadia lay spread out between them, its edges worn and fraying just as the remaining lands of Arcadia itself. The great cities had long been burned, the people slaughtered, and what was left was hardly much of a Utopia at all.

"So far, we have not been able to break through the Pale's defenses," Lucifer said, pointing to a large, inky blot in the vast seas of Arcadia.

"And the other Utopias are hardly any help," added Uriel. Lucifer's nose crinkled as she rolled her eyes.

"They are busy with their own problems."

"Lucifer is right. We can only do so much to help." Beelzebub added. "We must consider that perhaps, there is no answer to be found. Skald's land is vast and plentiful. We could—"

"It is your problem, as well." Metatron chimed in out of synch. "You just don't see that yet."

With a thunderous crash, Satan's fist struck the table, crumpling the map. His eyes blazed with frustration. "Why don't you illuminate us then, Metatron?"

A heavy silence fell over the room as the door creaked open. Demiurge entered, his eyes bloodshot and his once-majestic frame now frail and weak. "Enough," he said, his voice a tired command. "The Pale is a threat to the stability of the entire Universe. We cannot allow it to corrupt any further."

"Smash it. Smash it into a centillion pieces. Smash those pieces into more pieces. Tear it to pieces. Obliterate it." Abaddon suggested, his eyes empty and dark.

"Archons can't die. It's an Archon." Belphegor responded, largely uninterested in yet another meeting that would ultimately lead nowhere.

"You require a different tool." Metatron said in a cold mechanical drone. "The Hammer alone is not sufficient."

"Brilliant idea, gramps!" Mammon laughed, his feet propped up against the table's top. "Why don't we finally go to Entropy and steal the rest of Kaos's tools? If all of this was made from one little hammer—and a bit of creation—think what we could make with the rest of them!"

"It is out of the question." Demiurge responded. "The Pale is bad, yes. My father is worse."

"Besides, you wouldn't even be able to wield them, little less-than." Uriel added his voice as equally cold as Metatron's. "You are not a <i>true</i> Archon."

"And what the hell are you?" Satan roared, his body growing large, dark, and feline as he reached out across the table, grabbing Uriel by the throat.

Metatron raised his hand, just as Demiurge was often prone to do. "Enough. You misunderstood me. We do not need another tool of creation. We need to reshape our current one. A hammer is ill-suited to the nature of this problem."

"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked, her head tilted to the side.

"We need a mechanism of time."

"Time?" Satan asked, his body shrinking back down to its normal size as he released Uriel's throat from his grip.

"Time." Metatron repeated. "We require an ability to control it. The Pale is a virus. It mutates and changes at an incredible rate. We need to stop the growth entirely."

"So, you want to just… freeze it?" Asmodeus asked.

"It is an idea. Not a final one, mind you. Belphegor?" Metatron asked.

Belphegor stirred slightly, but not enough to raise her head from the table.

"I require your input."

"And us?" Leviathan asked, hoping to also be of some use to Metatron's plans.

"Unneeded at this time."

The remaining children of Abraxas and Eve let out a collective sigh—some of relief and others of disappointment—as the meeting had clearly come to an end. Though Demiurge was clearly the head of the table, it seemed that Metatron was always in control. As the room emptied of all but Lucifer and Demiurge, he leaned forward in his chair and reached out to stop her from leaving.

"Lucifer?"

"Yes?"

"There was… another matter I wished to discuss with you. <i>Alone</i>."</span>