"They've hidden things, at the very least," Auriel confirmed.
"And what am I supposed to do? Stand before humanity and shout that I am their savior? Don't be ridiculous. No one would believe me." Bul-Kathos grunted. "And don't even think about packaging me as a 'God.' You and I both know the true nature of divinity. Humanity's fate should be in their own hands."
Auriel closed her eyes, preparing to depart. Persuading a Barbarian took time—time they needed to think. Especially since the High Heavens and the Nephalem were never truly one and the same. Even in cooperation, there were always secrets.
"Bul-Kathos, how long can you protect your people? Surrounded by infinite malice... even with Johanna's help, you are still just one man."
It sounded like a warning, perhaps even a threat. The High Heavens had sat on their thrones for eons. Even if they feared Bul-Kathos's power, they had a thousand ways to achieve their ends.
"Raekor has been resurrected," Bul-Kathos said coldly.
A living Raekor was enough to guard everything on the Holy Mountain. Even if the Archangels marched on their gates, with Vorusk wielding the mountain's will and himself at the lead, Arreat would be impregnable. There was no Worldstone left to detonate this time.
Anyone dreaming of destroying the Barbarians was exactly that—dreaming.
Auriel paused, a slightly awkward smile touching her lips. "But you cannot have children with Raekor."
She said it as if it were the most natural point in the world. Bul-Kathos pulled Leah toward him, forcing the girl to face the Archangel.
"No, no... Leah isn't your child. She is Aidan's. She won't inherit your legacy; she is meant to inherit Khanduras—"
"She is my daughter. My child! The continuation of my life!" Bul-Kathos glared at Auriel.
"No one will inherit your ephemeral goals, Bul-Kathos," Auriel said, her voice like a chilling prophecy. "You are like the tightrope walker Zarathustra witnessed. Once you fall, no one will carry your corpse to find the answers."
This was the consensus among the Archangels.
"Those words shouldn't come from the aspect of Hope," Bul-Kathos said, looking at her as if seeing a stranger.
"It is because I am Hope that I know just how slim that hope is." With that, Auriel vanished from the Rift.
"Even Hope doesn't believe in you! Bul-Kathos! Hahaha!" Zoltun Kulle's laughter rang out.
Kulle had nothing but disdain for the burdens Bul-Kathos carried. To him, a grand dream was nothing compared to the reality of rule and raw power. As long as Bul-Kathos kept chasing that distant dream, power and dominion would only ever be side-effects, not the goal.
"Hope is everywhere," Bul-Kathos muttered to himself. He looked up at the spinning Kanai's Cube.
The transformation inside was nearly complete. The Ancestors' assault on Baal was likely reaching its climax. A calculated explosion—to let the demons feel a Barbarian's rage firsthand. Such a plan didn't even need to be hidden from him.
Every battle needed a resolution. Win or lose, live or die—there had to be an end.
"Bul-Kathos, when are you going to tell me your actual plan?" Johanna asked, her eyes searching his. From Auriel's words, she had sensed something deeper. These younger Nephalem still knew too little of the Immortal King. Time creates chasms between men.
"You're still young, Johanna," Bul-Kathos deflected.
"Am I not strong enough?" she countered. To her, "young" and "weak" were synonyms in his mouth.
"Fa... Father," Leah whispered, clutching Bul-Kathos's rough hand tentatively.
Kind people always have too many worries. The kinder they are, the more they fret. That was the natural order of things.
"Leah, where do you want to open your tavern?" Bul-Kathos asked, shifting the subject.
"I haven't decided. As long as it's close to you," Leah replied softly. She was firm in her resolve but understanding of his silence. Even with her own questions, she chose to suppress them.
Bul-Kathos squeezed Leah's hand and let out a long, heavy sigh. It was the first time anyone, Johanna included, had ever heard the Immortal King sound so weary.
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