Chương 114: 27 - FAMILY REUNION

Uriel escorted everyone down the stairs into his library, seating them in the various chairs. This iteration, it looked less like a dungeon with books on the side and more like an actual living space with chairs, couches, and even a desktop computer running on a small generator that made a whirring white noise. In the middle of the floor were two couches facing each other, with a coffee table between them. T'balt sat on Monan's side, leaving no room for Acelin, Cannon, and Ellie to sit next to him.

Naturally, they sat on the other side, and Uriel, for some reason, sat on the coffee table in the middle, legs crossed like a Buddhist monk.

"Ah. Drinks?" he remembered.

"Do we have drinks?"

"Yes. I've got it." A man in the most Ned Flanders sweater T'balt had ever seen waltzed over to them with a large glass of wine. He was about the same height as Cannon, about 6'5, with about half the muscle. Still an intimidating guy if he didn't have a big baby face and a green buttoned-up cardigan.

"Thank you, David," Uriel said. David poured a glass of wine for each of the adults before getting to Acelin.

"No adult drinks for children." He spoke in a strange Eastern European accent that none of them could quite place. Whatever it was, English didn't seem to be his first language.

"Oh, come on." Acelin beckoned.

"I can handle the same things everyone else can."

"No, no. This is not the good. Drink is for boys with hairy chests and girls with developed bosoms. If you drink, you will shit and I will no clean." David glanced down at Uriel, who was lost in thought.

"Jeez. What do children drink these days? Milk? Have we imported any milk yet?" He said.

"I will fetch milk." They waited an awkward moment while David went into one of the backrooms and came back out with a fresh cup of whole milk. When he handed it to Acelin, the kid just stared at it.

"Do people just drink milk?"

"Does the little boy not want milk? I squeeze it myself."

"Out of what?" Acelin looked disgusted, but Cannon decided to put a stop to this before it went any further.

"Hey, buddy, why don't we go check out some books while the adults have a chat?" He grabbed the kid who protested the whole way, leaving David to shrug and drink his milk. Then he went to stand behind a shelf, remaining close but out of sight. Monan looked mildly amused, sprawling across his corner of the couch. Uriel turned to him.

"So you introduced me before as number 3. But I thought I was number 2." Monan shrugged.

"Nope. Number 3. Sorry, Uri, but you'll have to settle for the bronze. T'balt, you just get a participation trophy." T'balt squinted, still sitting with his stink face. He was the newest addition, but he didn't want Monan to introduce him to everyone like the runt of the litter.

"Well then, how come I haven't been introduced to number 2... or number 4 for that matter?" Uriel asked.

"Number 2 doesn't play nice," Monan said.

"Number 4 must just be shy. Cuz she's been here a few times."

"You don't remember her?" T'balt asked.

"She was with me last time."

"Oh, her? She was a rude one, wasn't she? Why isn't she a part of our little family reunion?"

"I'm not so sure she'd want to come around here again after what happened last time. In fact, she told me when she died, she was going to make sure we couldn't find her again."

"Don't believe that bullshit," Monan scoffed.

"She's just as predictable as you are. She hangs out here every iteration. She just doesn't like people keeping tabs on her. She'll be back. Once she knows we're all together, she won't want to miss out on it." T'balt shook his head.

"Not the woman I met. But whatever you say."

"Well, I'm offended." Uriel slapped his crossed legs.

"I have extraordinary hospitality. I'd give her the warmest welcome if she only told me she was staying in my own house. Seriously, why didn't you tell me, Monan? I thought we were transparent with each other."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Monan said.

"We all know how few of those we get these days." T'balt wondered how many iterations Uriel had been through. He didn't get his age tattooed on his body as Monan did. He knew because he'd seen the Bestower absolutely naked. But if he was number 3, that meant he was somewhere between T'balt's fewer than 100 and Monan's 11, 000. And if Vienna was number 4, that meant she couldn't have been too much more tenured than T'balt was. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen.

Please report the violation. Uriel sighed and turned to T'balt.

"Well, I was plenty surprised. T'balt. please. accept my sincerest apologies for what happened last life. I was never good at first impressions, so allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Uriel Grace. Welcome to Graceland." He guided his hand around the library as if he were showing off the place as the entire city.

"It's a bit of a personal project of mine." All this time, Ellie was sitting quietly on the couch opposite the Redeemers, listening to them go back and forth about things she didn't have the context to understand. But there was a question in the back of her mind that she was eager to ask since they stepped in the door, and when she heard the man's name for a second time, she exploded out of her chair to ask it.

"Are you THE Uriel Grace?" She went to pick up a book on a nearby shelf. It was titled, "Monkeys to Monuments: The Evolution of the Just Society." And at the bottom, she pointed to the author's name, Uriel Grace.

"This Uriel Grace?" Uriel's eyes widened, not at the question, but at the book.

"That's one of my early works. No refinement. Just a bunch of technical babble and unfiltered thoughts. I've written a lot more since then. I could've offered you a much better read in a different timeline." Ellie glanced down at the book.

"I actually liked it and your ideas about the unsaid collective agreement. People who are part of a group are bound by a set of values, written or unwritten, that keep them tethered together. The larger a group becomes, the further those values ascend the hierarchy of needs. Where the smallest group is bound by the need of survival and needs no extra motivation beyond that, the larger group then ascends to more intrinsic values like love and happiness," she read from the first few pages. Uriel smiled.

"I've lived over a thousand years since I wrote that." He stood up from the table and approached her. Ellie shifted slightly, uncomfortable with a statement like that. But, surprisingly, he gently took the book from her hand and put a hand on her back.

"I thank you for reading it, but there were so many things I wished I understood before I wrote it. Everything in this book was just a theory. But they became the basis for me to run my experiment." He sat her on the couch and placed the book back on the shelf.

"Since I've had the chance to test my theories with an infinite ability to correct my mistakes and refine and refine until I created the perfect place, the perfect city. Minimal crime, majority happiness, peace, harmony. As much as to be expected considering the human outlier. That's what Graceland is. The end of my experiment." T'balt tilted his head.

"It didn't look so perfect last time I was here. Everything was beat up, there were literal slaves, and not to mention Corlander attacking. And if I remember right, you didn't do anything to stop it. Tell me how that's perfect." Monan patted him on the shoulder, looking at Uriel.

"Don't mind him. He's still new." Uriel stared at T'balt like he was the dumbest person in the room, and it was up to him to educate him.

"Tell me, T'balt. You've heard of the plight of Sisyphus, haven't you?" Monan groaned.

"Ah, here we go with this shit." He got up, looking for something else to keep his attention, but found only a bunch of books he clearly had no interest in reading. T'balt would be the main victim of his lecture. Ellie, to a lesser extent, but she was just interested in all of Uriel's words.

"My mom used to be a high school teacher. Of course, I know the story." T'balt answered.

"But have you really considered it?" Uriel sat back on the coffee table, this time just on the side so that he was at most a foot from T'balt's face.

"He was a man who defied the Gods of ancient Greece, trying to fight death itself. He succeeded in removing death from the world for a very long time. When the Gods discovered this crime, they sentenced him to continuously roll a boulder up a hill, knowing that every single time he reached the top, a spell would cause the boulder to roll back down. He'll never fully succeed in his goal. Each time he reaches the peak of his progress, he is doomed to start from the beginning.

The story of this punishment has endured for generations because it's seen as one of the cruelest in the world. Because he can't stop. He can't stop pushing. It's a nature within himself that he can't help." His eyes lost focus.

"No, he is helpless. And he can't change a thing. And how long must he suffer this helplessness, T'balt?" T'balt chewed his tongue.

"For all eternity..."

"For all eternity," Uriel repeated.

"How many times up that hill before Sisyphus accepts that he's in hell and stops believing he can push for a way out?" T'balt pushed himself off the couch, putting distance between himself and the man.

"So what are you saying? It's better to just give up," he said, frustrated.

"Why even build any of this in the first place, then?"

"To finally accept the punishment for the life I lived back on Earth. Instead of depriving my tormentors of my punishment, I've chosen to embrace it. Perhaps then, they'll see my regrets and finally set me free."

"Don't be stupid!" T'balt yelled.

"We're the ones that killed a god, weren't we? We're the ones that defy that kind of punishment! Because we said, fuck death! So damn your tormentors and damn a punishment! You brought these people here, and that's no excuse to let Corlander tear them all to hell!" Uriel was unbearably calm, which, of course, made T'balt seem like the insane one for screaming at him. Uriel looked up at him, still sitting on the coffee table.

"Why not? What does it really matter in the end?" Realizing everyone was staring at him, T'balt paused a moment, chewing his tongue.

"I'll show you what matters." He said quieter.

"If you're not gonna protect these people, then I will." He stared intensely at the men who looked back with deep, sorrowful eyes. Monan stepped between.

"Hey. Take a walk, T. Cool down for a sec." T'balt right then wanted to tear the man's head off for trying to sound like a voice of reason. But in the end, he just shook his head and stormed outside.

"Babysit the kids," Monan told Uriel.

"I'll be back."

"The kids?" He looked back, remembering Ellie, Cannon, and Acelin were still in the room, staring at him.

"Oh, right."

"Hey, mister," Acelin tugged on his leg.

"Can I try some of that wine now?"