亚洲综合中美

‘My authority,’ she pondered. Followers in mass, “-goddess,” they preached, “-it was not your fault,” they prayed, “-it was the supreme god’s action,” some kneeled.

‘It’s my responsibility,’ she pondered for said mass of followers were the cacophonous memories left as the dead body was dragged. A whelming scent pressed, “-who goes there?” she gestured in a matter of waves, “-show yourself.”

“Pardon the intrusion,” came a lovely flowery smell, “-I was sent by the one for his prize?”

“...” Tharis’ longing gaze sought justice, for it was her creed. The wall suffered most of the brunt, such a pensive leer could but pierce holes, “-Rosalia,” slowly escaped her pressed lips, “-I’m in no mood.”

“With all due respect,” answered the cloaked emissary, “-I’m here as a messenger. The One wishes to take his share. Where is the body hidden?”

“I don’t know.”

.....

“It doesn’t behoove the monarch of judgment to hide truths.”

“And such goes double for our leader, pressing his authority on land which isn’t his. I’ve but the mind to absolve his action and send word.”

Rosalia, cloaked in shades of black and red, lifted her gaze; a mask with an embroidered rose settled. The side-to-side line greatly emphasized her almond-shaped eyes, above which the glabella held a petal insignia, “-with due respect, I ask again, will you give us Igna Haggard’s body or must we take physical action?”

“Are you threatening me?” Tharis narrowed her lips and firmed her brows, “-you, Rosalia, are sure of such a fruitless endeavor?”

“My lady,” she motioned towards her back, “-I must say it was rude of me,” she fell onto her knee and bowed, “-my temper got the better, I apologize sincerely.”

“It is forgiven,” said Tharis with a golden glow to her presence. “I have no idea where the body has been taken,” she solemnly added, “-Lixbin was quite forceful.”

“Understood,” the masked lady vanished. A bubble erected and captured the current room; one of many gathering places spread about the castle. Tharis slyly signaled, and a portal opened, “-Lixbin.”

“Takes care of our promise,” came a grave tone, “-by allowing Zeus’ action, doubt has been cast upon Tharis’ authority. It shames me to involve the goddess of judgment, your stance and decision are neutral and have the faith of justice at its core. Whatever happens, is as fate dictates.”

She threw her arms, cutting his dialogue, and fired, “-cut the nonsense,” rapid breaths exhaled, “-stop patronizing me, damned agent of darkness. Your reputation precedes you, Lixbin, no matter the intent or sentence, there will always be the option for doubt. No one in the heavenly realm believes in you, no one, Lixbin, no one. Now, whatever the scheme is, I’m not interested,” the door slammed. A saddened sigh escaped. Followers of Tharis slowed their march, others scurried. Whispers flooded the castle. He left with much disappointment. ‘Word will be out tomorrow,’ the portal opened in a desolate land, ‘-Lixbin was rejected by Tharis and forced into submission. They’ll talk and twist the narrative, once more I will be subject to their fantasies of intrigue. What do they care,’ he walked, the lonesome crashing footsteps against a forgone era drenched in red and decay halted at a dusty and shattered mirror. A half-broken wall reflected a symbol of rebellion. An entire city laid in ruin, he continued until a kindling of a tree surrounded by a concrete moat. “-Another stain on my name and reputation,” he grabbed an threw a bucket of black substance. “-Lixbin’s always the harbinger of malice. Why do they hate me, why can’t I have a chance.”

Shuffles echoed, “-stop with the shouting...”

“Awake, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m awake,” coughs followed, “-why throw paint at an already dirty wall. Wait for a second,” now at Lixbin’s side, “-throwing paint, buckets of it. No, the stench, that’s no ordinary paint, what is it?”

“Essence of darkness.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“What does it matter,” he shrugged his shoulder and dropped the bucket, “-you’ll leave in a few moments, there’s no point making acquaintance.”

Igna’s silent footsteps found an interesting spot, “-come here.”

“Don’t bother me,” the god has his back against Igna.

“No, no, seriously, come here.”

“What are you on abou-” he spun and stopped. The Devil’s cheerful glee at a post-apocalyptic landscape had the feeling of sticking a knife into Lixbin’s chest. In his particular condition, as shown by a smile and willingness to follow, the duo was soon perched upon a yet to crumble wall, after which rose the city of Unsog. ‘-What does he see?’ wondered Lixbin, he sought deeply into Igna’s pupils, latter all but reflected what was there, ‘-what can he imagine, what is he thinking?’

“Little on the nose,” he lowered and took a seat, dangling his feet carelessly over the unstable foundation, “-have a seat, Lixbin, tell me the story of Unsog,” he peered deeply, “-tell me about yourself.”

“Well,” the god could but accept. With the essence of darkness dripping on the very same wall they sat on, Lixbin’s vision narrowed into a random spot. ‘Unsog, rather, this world, is the place I call home. It was once a great land, one akin to your own though on a lesser scale. People here didn’t use magic, they were grounded in reality and had a strong faith in the gods. Lack of knowledge forces much to be left unknown, said unknown came to be known as the gods. Bad weather, the gods, bad luck, the gods. To the inhabitants, there was no representation of evil or darkness – to them, God meant everything. Unsog was different – her people sought answers in the observable and provable. Hypothesis came and went, and the veneration of higher beings lessened as many of the world’s problems could be solved in matters grounded in their reality. There was nothing wrong with how it worked – intellectuals’ thoughts and pondered, they imagined and conquered. They evolved, built countries, expanded, and were faced with pandemics and world-ending catastrophes – I was amazed by the resilience. I was a demi-god by the time this world reached its pinnacle – peace and happiness were present, Unsog cried the beacon of utopic fantasy. Nothing lasts – on the day I attained godhood, tragedy struck. An other-worldly force decided to interfere. The people of Unsog wanted to prove the existence of gods, and the existence of life after death, they wanted the answers a few chosen Orin are fortunate to possess. Guess that’s where my journey truly began. I wanted to experience peace and quiet, to reach the level of tranquility Unsog created for their world,” he shook his head, “-gods decided the world wasn’t worth keeping in their good grace. War was upon the heavenly realm, and the battle against the Titans started – on spark by Zeus’ revolt. Worlds with an affinity for the procreation of heroes, demi-gods, were needed badly. This is what they don’t talk about – the gods needed an army, and to make an army one must bear children. You can imagine what a world without much belief in gods would accomplish. Instead of leaving them on their own – angels descended from heaven and preached the holy word of god. They wanted proof, and such was proof. Division split the sky; peaceful technology turned deadly weapons. I fought against the angels and realized my position as god amounted to nothing to a venerated angel. The power of belief guided a clear hierarchy, one of which I couldn’t hope to climb or conquer. I then struck a deal with the demons – they kept their part of the bargain, well, they kept it literally. One deal led to another, one favor snowballed into more and thus, my title as God of Darkness was born. I climbed as a god, my following increased as people sought the god of Darkness to quench their thirst for vengeance. My sacrifices meant nothing – when I returned as a high-level god, the world was already destroyed. Life was wiped from the face of the planet, they wiped themselves and their whole history from existence. Unsog’s beauty, the place I had come to love, was gone. You’ll see dark liquid raise from time to time, it’s the price the world pays every time my name is uttered in bad faith. Looking at it, I don’t regret my action. I became a high-level god and my name is venerated in more realms than one,” he turned, “-that tree is the proof life can continue without interjection from the gods.”

“Thus the mention of a world without god being better.”

“The proof is here,” he smiled, “-the proof was always here, it never went away.”

“Lixbin,” Igna side-glanced, “-the story doesn’t make sense.”

“How?”

“If belief was powerful enough to give rise to gods – the heavens would be crawl full of ’em. Instead, what was described isn’t one of belief but logic and proof. The people of this world became gods in their own way. They did see evidence of a greater being, they did see it, angels. You, Lixbin, were not born a god, you were made one. The culmination of Unsog’s knowledge – the evolution of a being transcendent of the laws and belief. You’re a puppet, a doll.”

“What if I say you’re wrong?”

“Then I shan’t press the matter. The apocalypse, the described events, and an allusion towards yourself. Remember, I did say I wanted to know more about you, not the world. You misinterpreted, rather, chose to ignore them as it was something you couldn’t answer.”

“How astute. What does it matter, I’m a high-level god. Lixbin, the one who wields the symbol of Darkness.”

“Lixbin, dear ol’ Lixbin, I’m glad,” he smiled, “-the world was once a beautiful place, what remains are howling winds, a thunderous ceiling, and the jarringly impossible odds for life’s restart. The tree says otherwise. I’m relieved,” he stood, “-the complete revival of the land is a task beyond the capabilities of normal deities.”

“Reviving them was never my idea,” he answered, “-I gladly accept the events as the inevitable end. I don’t belong... you were right, I was a product of their intelligence. My ability was self-evolution, rebuilding my core until the apex, enlightenment. Are you not surprised?”

“No, not particularly. The advent of your kind is a possibility I considered. Now, it’s nothing more than the past – a forgone event. A self-made god and a born deity are totally different creatures,” he rose both arms, “-I sadly can’t call myself a god, the title is beneath my stature. I much rather prefer the moniker of the devil,” came a smug grin, “-watch, Lixbin, for this is the power of one who transcends the very foundation of all, the man who resides beyond said realm – Nothing.”

*Watchers, spectators, names ring high and low, us, unknown to the world’s reality, unknown to the world’s knowledge, have lived in utter solemness for millennia to come and go. Watcher of the Shadow Realm, beckons my might to be fully materialized without prejudice, reality is but my playground, neither god nor demon shall overcome my authority, face me in stride, face me in fear, reality’s what I wish it to be for knowledge is the true strength: Realm Expansion, Shadow Realm Variant – Rantiam.* gates of a greater realm parted, it rained an essence purer than the Heavenly realm. Each droplet devoured, Lixbin’s jaw locked in perpetual awe. *Forged in the flames of my dead enemies, built by the sweat of my predecessors. Arise powers of whomst were sealed, arise and lay waste, for, in the wake of Nothing, everything shatters – as nothing envelops, the feeble life of existence is snuffed. Transcendent Skill; Art of Naught – Genesis!*