Chapter 0
Year 4357, Month of Sigilind (8), Day 6.
21:
"Another day in paradise." Amor said, taking a delicate sip of his mimosa. He looked out at the beautiful sunset the beautiful pinks, oranges, and yellows, and the singular white sphere sinking behind the horizon amidst it all. All things Emile had observed.
"I wouldn't consider it to be my paradise." Emile remarked, taking a swig of their cocktail. Emile's paradise was not Amor's. Amor wanted a pink sand island with an elegant manor with an onlooking view of the tropical forest and pure water. Amor practically had his dream home, his paradise, just missing pink sand, tropical forests, and the island. He had a very expensive modern manor, and a beautiful view of the ocean, and he seemed content with it.
Amor looked out over the ocean with a happy smile. Emile knew it was fake, though they weren't going to upack the heaping package of his abundance of issues.
"What is your ideal paradise then?" Amor said, looking away from the sunset to look at Emile with the same mastered stoic smile he always wore. "What's one place you could spend the rest of your life in?"
Emile looked at Amor and sighed. "A world where I was in charge, where I was in control of everything, where I was worshipped as the supreme God."
Amor looked at Emile, his stoic smile replaced with a sinister and threatening one. "What a funny joke, dear Emile, you are quite the comedian. But remember that you would want no other God than our Lord and Savior; NIKE the Victorious. For we need no other God than her, for she will lead us to salvation; to her heaven through our victory."
"Yeah, praise NIKE." Emile said unenthusiastically, raising their glass in the air for a toast. Amor's smile changed to one of pure joy, one of ignorant bliss, one of illusionment.
Amor raised his mimosa in the air with a surprising amount of joy and called out; "To our One True God, the Goddess of Victory, NIKE! May she lead us to salvation and bless us with everlasting victory!"
With a small clink of the two glasses they both drank the rest of their drinks. It wasn't long after that Emile left the house with a final goodbye to Amor and his sister.
Emile walked into the city, cameras flashing at them as they walked through the streets. They flagged a taxi down, and got in. "Oh my NIKE, good evening your holiness!" The taxi driver exclaimed as Emile got in the back seat. "Where would you like to go?"
Emile got comfortable in one of the seats and didn't bother buckling their seatbelt in. "The capitol building." Emile said as cameras flashed outside the vehicle. They ran their fingers through their short jellyfish cut and unlatched their PortComm-- a small rectangular device that allowed for fast communication and internet access --from their belt.
The driver immediately set off for Overlook Hall, a large sharp and geometric building that during the day reflected the sun in such a way that it looked as though it were glowing, and during the night had a soft glow to it. It was very irritating to Emile's tired and drunken eyes, and probably to the capitol's accountants as well, Emile thought.
Emile stepped out of the taxi after the driver said that they had no need to pay him, and something or other about it being an honor to meet Emile in person. Emile couldn't care less, and just walked up to the trapezoidal building, scanning their eye and then entering the building. The blood red walls, which would have been nothing but aesthetically pleasing on any other day, was irritating to Emile this night. And what was more irritating was the bright red glow that came from Lorika's siren eyes.
Emile bowed; the usual greeting for the last living descendent of and soul prophet of NIKE herself. "Your holiness, blessed are you with the one true god, NIKE's, blood running through your veins for all eternity." Emile said, it was lacking enthusiasm, something everyone else who saw Lorika had.
"You don't seem pleased to see me, Emile." Lorika said. "In fact, you seem irritated by my presence." She said, she had an amused face, but there was a threatening undertone.
Emile shook their head, "No I'm just drunk and tired, so the bright colors of the walls are messing with my eyes, it has nothing to do with you." Emile said, though that wasn't the whole truth, Emile was very irritated by the bright red color of her eyes and the bright contrast of the white pupils in between the sea of red.
"I can tell, you always get irritable when you're intoxicated," Lorika said, her amused smile faded as she examined Emile intently, "I'd like to speak with you." Emile frowned; they knew what this was about.
"I hope you don't take it personally, King, I just feel that maybe me and the apostles could help out more when it comes to running the country." Emile said, trying to save their head, Emile had seen what happened to people who defied the messenger of victory.
Emile sat across a circular dark wood table from Lorika in her personal lounge in a plush red chair that had black blankets and pillows on it. Emile was trying to explain, or rather excuse, a tape of them saying that Lorika "didn't know how to run her country" which they were also drunk in.
Lorika sat across from Emile, a lit cigarette between her fingers, she took another drag of it, blowing a puff of smoke from between her lips as Emile continued to try to excuse their actions. Lorika was leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed, her long white hair pulled into a ponytail and her face framing bottleneck bangs styled to gently arch away from her head and come back in one fell swoop.
Lorika smiled, adjusting the long perfectly tied tie on her suit, her blazer resting on the head of her plush chair. "Oh, Emile, it's so amusing how you try to defend yourself when you're in the wrong. It's almost, dare I say, endearing," She said said with a certain edge to her voice, "I suppose I could let you go with a warning,"She started, leading Emile to sigh in relief, "If you swear to watch your words from now on, you can't take back what you've said y'know, and your words hurt people's feelings."
Emile frowned, they didn't like the way that Lorika was talking to them, she was explaining everything like Emile was a child who messed up and had to have an explanation for why what they did was wrong.
"Yes your holiness." Emile relented, but not without a grudge, Emile did not like to be talked down to, by anyone, no matter how much power they held over them. They could've been Themusiru, Almight Goddess of the Gods and Universe herself and Emile would not be at all willing to be talked down to.
Emile must've had how they were feeling written all over their face, because Lorika then dismissed Emile but not before saying, "Don't get too upset and throw a tantrum, now. I don't think you're worth the trouble of replacing all the potential broken things that could come from your childlike behavior."
Emile didn't say another thing, and left to their personal quarters in Overlook Hall. Emile scanned their eye and entered the grand apartment. Stepping into the hallway that led into the rest of the house and shutting the door. Emile walked down the hallway and took a sharp left, entering the kitchen, they immediately flung the fridge door open and pulled out a half empty bottle of whiskey, they took the cork off and drunk the rest of the bottles contents; a feat Emile had mastered in their many drunken rages induced by their fellow apostles and the annoying distant descendant of a God. Emile wiped their mouth with the back of their hand and threw the now empty bottle into the garbage. Upon realizing they had no other obvious booze they rummaged through their fridge for any unseen alcoholic drinks, eventually landing on a few cans of beer that had been in the back of their fridge.
Emile didn't think twice before grabbing the three cans and sitting down on their couch. Emile turned on the television and changed the channel to some indie mystery movie that was halfway through already. Emile picked up a can and popped the tab open, taking a sip of the bitter drink. Emile took another sip and another, each sip progressively getting a little more of the temporary solution to Emile's anger than the last. Soon Emile was through that can, crushing it between their hands and tossing it into the trash can, and moving onto the next one. Soon Emile was all out of beer. And Emile was now sitting on the couch, watching the mystery, and beginning to doze off.
Emile decided that it would take to much effort to get up and go to their bed, so they instead just layer down on their couch and fell asleep, it was quite late after all. Emile fell into a half-asleep-half-awake state; something they often experienced due to an underlying awareness of the risk of being attacked whilst they slept, one which they would never admit to to anyone. Mainly because it would be seen as a fear, when it was just Emile always being two steps ahead, Emile didn't have any fears, Emile was the pinnacle of perfection. Those were Emile's final thoughts before drifting off into sleep, other than the fact that Emile had the sinking feeling they forgot something.