Once, when Pei Geduo was still undergoing Wizard apprentice training, he asked his mentor about the future of wizardry. But his mentor merely shook his head sadly and told him:
"Wizardry has no future, only service—every Wizard has their own duty. To prevent the tragedy of a thousand years ago from being reenacted, we must restrain ourselves, and can only restrain ourselves."
At the time, Pei Geduo nodded devoutly, believing that one day he would become a guardian of world order.
But now, as whispers in the morning wind swept through the streets and hummed among the ruins, after half a month of fighting Orks and cultists, while standing upon a planet about to be swallowed by a storm of chaos, he was no longer certain.
Perhaps they could have made different choices—choices that might have made everything better.
But everything seemed to have spiraled out of control, like a mad carriage racing straight toward a cliff.
Yet it was not over. From the moment he joined the Cabal, he knew he could save humanity from making even more mistakes. Though all this was done under the guidance of certain inhuman beings, he could no longer afford to worry about such things.
At the very least, in their thousands of years of existence, they had never tried to destroy humanity. In that regard, they were slightly more noble than the evil gods and the Orks.
More importantly, he had no other choice.
"Thoughts rise like dust, thoughts fall like snow."
He quietly recited the introductory meditation mantra from his apprenticeship, as though it had once been far removed from him.
"Archivist Pei Geduo, what a surprise it is to find you here."
A familiar voice came from atop a larger boulder behind the stone Pei Geduo was sitting on.
"General