The Supreme Guardian's chambers were a study in contrasts that spoke to the impossible pressures of leading a civilization under siege. Official portraits of past leaders lined walls that bore scorch marks from recent Fragmentum incursions. A conference table crafted from local ice-wood hosted tactical displays showing corruption spread patterns that updated in real-time. And at the center of it all sat Cocolia Rand, whose bearing suggested someone who had been making desperate decisions for so long that desperation had become her default mode of leadership.
Alex found themselves studying Cocolia with a mixture of sympathy and dread as Himeko handled the formal introductions. In the game, Cocolia had been a tragic antagonist—a leader driven to increasingly extreme measures by her genuine desire to save her people. Seeing her in person, Alex could read the exhaustion in her posture and the weight of impossible choices in her eyes.
"The Express crew," Cocolia said, her voice carrying the kind of controlled emotion that suggested someone holding back volumes of frustration and fear. "Your reputation for resolving Stellaron crises precedes you. I hope that reputation is well-earned."
"We've had success in similar situations," Himeko replied diplomatically. "Though each case presents unique challenges."
"Unique challenges," Cocolia repeated with a bitter laugh. "Seven hundred years of losing ground to corruption that transforms everything it touches. A population divided between surface and underground factions that can barely coordinate long enough to maintain basic defensive operations. And now we're detecting energy signatures from the planet's core that suggest something is actively accelerating the corruption's spread."
Alex felt their stomach tighten as they recognized the setup for the central tragedy of Jarilo-VI's storyline. Cocolia wasn't just dealing with external threats—she was being influenced by the very Stellaron that the Express crew had come to contain. In the game, this had been a compelling plot twist. In reality, it meant they were sitting across from someone whose judgment was being systematically compromised by cosmic forces beyond her understanding.
"You mentioned accelerating corruption," Dan Heng said, consulting his data pad. "Can you provide specific details about recent changes in spread patterns?"
Cocolia gestured to the tactical displays, which shifted to show time-lapse imagery of corruption spread over the past several months. The changes were dramatic—areas that had been stable for decades were suddenly succumbing to Fragmentum influence at rates that defied previous predictions.
"It started approximately six months ago," Cocolia said. "Initially, we attributed the acceleration to natural fluctuations in corruption density. But the pattern has become too consistent to be random, and too rapid to be sustainable."
Alex studied the display data, noting correlations that probably weren't visible to anyone without their combination of meta-knowledge and intuitive understanding of dimensional mechanics. The acceleration points corresponded to locations where the planet's core energy was intersecting with surface geological features—exactly what they would expect if a Stellaron was beginning to synchronize with local environmental systems.
"Have there been any other unusual phenomena?" Alex asked. "Energy discharges, temporal distortions, anything that might suggest external influence on the corruption patterns?"
Cocolia's attention focused on Alex with the intensity of someone who had been hoping someone would ask that exact question. "Voices," she said quietly. "Whispers that seem to come from the planet itself, offering solutions to problems that conventional tactics can't address."
The room fell silent except for the soft humming of the tactical displays. Alex felt the weight of knowing exactly what those voices represented—Stellaron influence gradually eroding Cocolia's ability to distinguish between her own thoughts and suggestions from a cosmic force that cared nothing for human welfare.
"Supreme Guardian," Himeko said carefully, "has your command structure reported any similar experiences?"
"No," Cocolia replied. "The phenomenon appears to be... selective. Which makes it either a sign of extreme stress affecting my judgment, or evidence that something is specifically attempting to communicate with planetary leadership."
Alex exchanged glances with Dan Heng, who was clearly thinking through the implications of Cocolia's revelation. Stellaron influence typically manifested as gradual psychological pressure rather than direct communication, but every case presented unique characteristics based on local conditions and the target's psychological profile.
"What kind of solutions do these voices suggest?" Alex asked, though they suspected they already knew the answer.
"Radical approaches," Cocolia said. "Methods that would involve significant short-term sacrifice for the possibility of long-term preservation." She stood, moving to one of the chamber's windows that looked out over Belobog's defensive walls. "They speak of ways to transform the corruption from a destructive force into something that could strengthen rather than weaken our civilization."
Alex felt ice form in their chest that had nothing to do with Jarilo-VI's climate. In the game, Cocolia's eventual plan had involved attempting to merge human consciousness with Fragmentum corruption in order to create beings that could survive in a completely corrupted environment. The logic was seductive in its desperation—if you couldn't beat the corruption, maybe you could join it on terms that preserved some essential element of human identity.
The reality was that such a plan would destroy everything that made humanity worth preserving in the first place.
"Transformation approaches can be dangerous," Himeko said diplomatically. "The Express has encountered similar situations where attempted adaptation to hostile forces resulted in outcomes that were worse than the original problem."
"And yet," Cocolia said, turning back to face the group, "what alternatives do we have? Every year, the corruption claims more territory. Every year, our population shrinks and our resources become more stretched. At current rates of decline, Belobog will be uninhabitable within fifty years."
"That assumes no intervention," Dan Heng pointed out. "The presence of a Stellaron suggests that the corruption's acceleration isn't natural. If we can neutralize the Stellaron influence..."
"If," Cocolia interrupted. "And what happens if you can't? What happens if the Express crew fails, as so many others have failed, and my people are left to face extinction while clinging to hope that outside salvation will somehow materialize?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge, and Alex could see the terrible logic behind Cocolia's position. She wasn't being unreasonable or paranoid—she was being responsible for the survival of an entire civilization under circumstances that offered no good options. The Stellaron influence was exploiting her genuine leadership instincts, turning her protective impulses into justifications for increasingly extreme measures.
"What would you need to feel confident about waiting for a conventional solution?" Alex asked.
"Proof," Cocolia said immediately. "Concrete evidence that the Express crew can actually address the root cause of our crisis rather than just treating symptoms."
Alex looked around the room, noting the expressions on their companions' faces. Himeko was maintaining diplomatic neutrality, but Alex could see the concern in her eyes. Dan Heng was calculating probabilities and strategic options with his usual analytical approach. March was studying Cocolia with the kind of empathetic attention that suggested she was seeing the human tragedy underneath the political complexities.
"We'll need access to the core energy readings," Alex said. "Full sensor data, geological surveys, anything that might help us understand how the Stellaron is interacting with local conditions."
"And we'll need to coordinate with both surface and underground operations," Himeko added. "A comprehensive solution will require cooperation from all factions."
Cocolia nodded slowly. "I can provide access to our data archives and authorize coordination protocols. But I want regular progress reports, and I want realistic timelines. My people can't afford for this to become an open-ended research project."
As the meeting concluded and the Express crew was escorted to temporary quarters within Belobog's administrative complex, Alex found themselves thinking about the impossible position Cocolia was in. She was being influenced by forces she didn't understand, making decisions based on incomplete information, and facing consequences that would affect millions of people.
"She's not the villain here," Alex said to March as they walked through corridors lined with portraits of previous Supreme Guardians.
"No," March agreed. "She's just someone who's been carrying impossible responsibilities for too long. The tragedy is that the voices she's hearing probably sound like perfectly reasonable suggestions when you're that desperate."
Alex nodded, thinking about the seductive logic of Stellaron influence and the way it exploited people's genuine desires to protect the things they cared about. Stopping Cocolia would require more than just defeating her in combat—it would require offering her people a better alternative to the solutions the Stellaron was whispering in her ear.
The question was whether they could identify and implement that alternative before desperation drove her to actions that would destroy everything she was trying to save.