Possibilities

There was a dense aura in the air surrounding the two Einsteins as they gazed across a darkened midnight. Clouds rotated stations, blocking off direct contact with the moonlight. A large pool of water splashed around in its cocoon, the wind tickling it. Mounds of rubble and stone, of all sizes punctured the grounds beneath. A large throne sat behind them, emanating a light so immense it shone for meters ahead of it, giving them light alongside a near moonless facade. There were bodies freely floating atop the undertow, lifeless, drowned or exhausted from an effortless climb. It'd been a while since clean up.

The mound they sat upon were soon to give out. The mountain was unstable, purchance to collapse at any minor juncture. The columns and anchors now weak from decades of uncertainty. Fragile and hoolow was the clifftop. A small pot sat abreast the two, between their sitting, containing minor supplements that spark enjoyment with their flavor.

"Something's off here." The female spoke shortly after swallowing a pint of the dust.
"The current, the wind? The sudden change in your parole?" The man responded, curious by her fascination.
"Parole wouldn't be the formal term. Call it my shift in purgatory had a shift of it's own."
"And what would that shift be, exactly. From what we previewed, you time's up. No more secrecy. No more trying to make a name."
"My name, mind you, has been cremated in the sands of time for millenniums."
"Yes, as you've claimed."
"You haven't lived long enough to be nailed to a cross, Diablo. Your actions have consequences, something you seem… sheepish to. Are you a sheep?"
"Comparing me to a lamb is comparing a cretin to Hamilton. Both intelligent, though put both in a ring and you'll see one's more cunning."

The female sat quietly, taking in a name that terrorized her mere hours prior. The man caught on quickly, exclaiming minor condulences.

"Like a parabola, the wind just bounces off you. It comes and goes. I though you were one to harden in situations like this. Is that not your image?"
"Where's the sphere, Lael?"

The man looked over towards the female, a look of anger collapsing his demeanor.
"The sphere is safe, Eve."
"…and the spe-"
"The spear is safe, Eve. The last thing I need is a planetary collapse."
"Who has them?"

The man looked out onto the horizon, answering the question with his own.
"Where's Hamilton?"
She hesitated before answering. "Most likely terrorizing Pennsylvania. Or Abes."
"Addison be damned, Abes." The man switched positions, kneeling over the edge of the mount, down towards the pool of famine below.
"Look, Evelyn. If all else fails, who are we to blame. I'm but an envoy, and you're a fraction of a decimal with them."
"I'm the centerpoint of the entire foundation! I'm the one looked up to, I'm number one. I interpret everything! I make all the rules."
"You're not the encore. You're not alone with it. Look at us. Alone in a dimension unable to contain us."
"You're nothing but your own downfall, Diablo. You both are, contradicting ever syllable."
"Do you not ditto these actions?"

The female sat in silence once more, kicking the pot off the edge.
"This isn't what I meant. We can leave now, if you want. We could leave whenever. We aren't important, they, should I say, aren't important. There's a million parallel, identical copies of this shit. Wouldn't be hard to budge into one, take some places."
"…that's what you would want. Freedom from a hell you thought you could master. Fate doesn't stop for you, it doesn't bend over and make you its bitch. You're the slave here, simply put with a delay. You can leave, but what are you stopping?"
The man realized his mistake in phrasing.
"You said it yourself. A million identical copies, a million universes experiencing the same dilema. You're forced here, to solve it, before it gets out of hand."
"There's other ways out of this, you know."
"Other ways? Either way, you're experiencing the same downfall, just a different variant of youself. You're watching how you could of died. You're watching yourself die." The female stood, looking down upon the man.
"Why are you the coward here, Daevea?"

The man twitched, looking once more across the finite perspective. The wind blew harder, motioning the waves into an acclamation lowder than pervial.
"I still exist. That's all the matters for me in the end. I can make up what they couldn't."
"But what if there was no couldn't. No winning. No losing. What if we die here, tonight? What if they all do?"
"What the fuck are pinching at?" The man stood, his full attention towards the female.
"The king, Diablo. The gods. The apprentice."

Lost in a train of thought, he pushed himself away from his opposition. He let out a moan of frustration by his lack of accumen.
"What's the difference between a win and a loss, Lael?"
"You can't read them like a book. Not even you. Not even us."
"The mask, the sphere, the spear, the sword, the book. All aspects that have led to this."
"It's not that simple! It's not what you think!"
"What if we win? What are we gaining? A legacy? A classification? A destiny?"
"We're not losing anything. Nothing but time."
…but what's a loss?

"What defines a loss, Diablo? Tell me, what have you loss in your time that you couldn't merely, undo?"
"You critique me like a book, you can't read us! Go look for that library."
"I'm well aware of that library, daevea."

Suddenly, minor fog collapsed around them. See through but strong enough to minimize larger distance. Some sort of cognitohazard.

"What say you, reaper?" The two asked the fog.
A figure emerged from the fog, engulfing it entirely. It wore a black cloak, similar to the man, bore a pair of horns, similar to the man, and wore a bloodly blindfold, similar to the man, though its face was barely visible abide a smog covering it.

"I hear you chatting. Both of you. You're pestering."
"Samael, I assure you neither of us condone you." The female responded.
"I abide the river of time, and that time is crooked." He pointed out beyond the peak, and the two gazed to where his finger pointed.

A large array of orange-yellow color pierced through the midnight density. A low-tinted red beam resembling a floodlamp shown down upon the ground below, followed by multiple different tentacles emerging through. Dozens upon dozens of nearly identical appendeges cleaved the heavens. The two stood silent as the reaper lowered his finger.

"Heinz warned me of something. This something clearly has no concern to me. Though your arguements deemed necessary. Eve, you know too much."
"Hamilton would know more. It seemed he predicted this, in all his years of slumber, I was there to witness it. I regret it, reaper." The man replied.
"Nuver…" The female stood flabergasted by the phenomena which betwixt her. Slowly, the sky departed from a midnight to a dawn.

"Fate's here children. And he's not alone." The reaper walked past them, and over the cliff, slowly dissipating as he fell. The two looked back up to the now apparent portal which was releasing the creature. Five seperate items simultaneously flew beyond the portal, surrounding the being, stationary.
"This was a… possibility."
"Nuver was always open about things. This was… unexpected."
"So… what do we do?"

The two looked upon the beings, the large creature now fully expanded across the horizon, kilometers in size.
"…the sphere."
"…Acamapichtli could help us."
"Dammit, where is it?"
"The kids have it. Wherever they may be."
"You're not tracking it? Did you even have a second thought when you handed it over?"
"Look, there's a manifestation of a god in that thing! I didn't want to release it!"
"What? What god? Wha-"

The female felt backstabbed. Betrayed. Dumbfounded by how oblivious she was. She started to grind her teeth in frustration.
"I thought you knew! With all you were exclaiming earlier!"
"Fuck, it doesn't matter, where's the spear? The sword? Anything?"
"The sword is.. somewhere. The spear is with Odam, who I'm sure is happy to see this."
"Cute."

How adorable.