The Bureau of Destiny was deserted, every god assigned to it attending the Calibration celebrations that filled Yu-Shan. Destiny held little sway over the oddities of Calibration, and attempting to control them was an exercise in futility. Better to leave it to its own devices, and enjoy the end of another year.
The threads hummed with tension as the facets they represented marched on, an ever changing tapestry of the now shifting in a glorious pattern even the most potent of Exalts could not hope to fully grasp. The constant, low level sound of inevitable fate was disrupted by the faint sound of footsteps.
Slowly, the keepers of the Loom of Fate began to filter into the room, having made their excuses to their colleagues to escape the gatherings and festivals that filled Creation. One by one, they filtered in, until all one hundred of the Sidereal Exalted stood by the Loom of Fate.
They said nothing. Every one of them knew the reason they were here. There was a darkness growing in the lords of Creation, a sickness that spread among the Solars, twisting their glorious purpose to something far darker. Year after year, their preferences became stranger, their tempers shorted, and their goals more horrific. The Lunar may have seen it, but shackled as they were, they said nothing. Their Dragon Blooded attendants lacked the power to curb the inclinations of their God Kings, and could not see the rot spreading among the entirety of the Solar host. Only the Sidereals stood apart enough to see the rot settling in the Deliberative. Only they had the strength of will to stand against the will of the God Kings of Creation, and the power to do something about it.
The insidious darkness needed to be stopped, ripped out of the heart of Creation and burned. That much was obvious, none of the Five Score Fellowship believed they should let it fallow, but things were rarely so black and white. If only the corruption was omnipresent. It would make things so much easier.
But it was not absolute. Some Solars resisted the temptations of their peers, others only acquiesced when social mores required it. Some even condemned the twisted experiments of the Deliberative, though their voice was often drowned out by others who were concerned with more pressing matters than an individual's choice in entertainment. They were a scant few among the three hundred rulers of Creation, but it showed that there was still some seed of goodness that lived within them, if only they could nurture it to its full potential.
Asking the Maidens had yielded no answers, each of them remaining silent no matter how ardently they begged for advice. The Viziers had no choice but to take matters into their own hands. Last Calibration, they had gathered to see the fate of Creation if the Lawgivers were left unchecked. They had been given three potential paths, three possibilities that showed the possible fates of Creation.
The Vision of Bronze, when they incited the Dragon Blooded to rise up against their masters, casting them down from their thrones in a bloodbath unmatched since the Primordial War. The war would rock the foundations of creation, spitting in the Mandate of Heaven decreed by the Unconquered Sun himself, but it would save Creation. The Dragon Blooded would be ill suited to managing the empire the Solars had forged, and numerous wonders would be lost or decay in their less capable hands, but the world would continue. It was a vision of practicality. The world would be lesser for it, but it would be safe. The awesome power of the Solars would be sealed away forever, leaving a world safe from their dark desires.
The Vision of Gold, a twisted amalgam of possibilities that took weeks to sort out. It was possible to turn the Solars from their dark path. Their excesses could be curbed or eliminated, and corruption properly policed before it could set in once more. If it could be accomplished, then Creation would reach heights undreamed of before, ushering in a glorious golden era that would put the Age of Glory to shame. But the Vision of Gold was in no way certain. A single misstep, the slightest miscalculation, and the Sidereal's effort would count for nothing. They would be executed for treason, or even spark off the very end they sought to avert. It was a vision of hope, but one not so easily realized.
The Vision of Darkness, where they stood aside and did nothing. Death would be a mercy, compared to the nightmarish vision of the Solars embracing their madness. Creation would be transformed into something so horrific that even the denizen of Malfeas would choose their life of pained servitude over the hell that had been forged from the ashes of Creation. It was a vision of hesitation, a vision of cowardice. If they failed to make a choice, then this vision would come to pass, and there would be no one to blame but the Seers themselves.
Each of these visions echoed in the minds of the assembly. Each of the Sidereals had some path they thought must come to pass, and it was here they would make their cases to their fellows.
They had spent the year following the Great Prophecy studying the Solars, watching them carefully. Every last detail noted and recorded, checked and cross checked against their peers. That information would be the final piece of the puzzle the Viziers had been worrying about for the past year. Each of them had gathered and collated as much information as they could to make the most complete arguments possible. No factor, no matter how minor or inconsequential could be ignored. Creation couldn't afford it.
The Five Score Fellowship exchanged uneasy looks. A year had gone by, and no progress had been made. They could spend all of eternity dithering over the possibilities and dangers that could occur, but all the while Darkness would draw closer, and that was something that could not be accepted. An unspoken agreement was reached as they exchanged solemn gazes.
By Calibration's end, they would have a decision.
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