“So long as you stay with me, Sophia, you’ll be fine. Ignore everything that comes for us, no matter what form it takes.” He held her small hand in his, preparing for what was coming. “I won’t let go. You can’t, either. He’ll try everything to break what you’ve created. But we won’t let him, will we?”
“No,” Sophia said defiantly yet fearfully.
A terrifying, fleeting power had permeated the city of Blackgard. Everyone could feel it, and some had even experienced it before. Still, no one was fully prepared to experience what would come this cycle, not even Argrave. It had the heat of a flame, yet his body remained the same temperature. It had the weight of the planet, yet exerted no pressure. It tasted and smelled like everything, even when there was only saliva in his mouth and air on his nose.
All of the buildings ahead began to warp and distort, folding inward on themselves, curving eternally into the sky. The mountains surrounding them rose high enough to pierce into space while descending deep enough into the earth to pierce the dwarven city of Mundi. Even Anneliese’s ward, sustained by eternity, couldn’t fully resist what was coming. It sphere became a universe unto itself as the Spark of Eternity fought a power that was its peer... or perhaps it superior.
Sophia’s power was that of creation. It could bend reality. Griffin’s power was that of destruction. And her brother’s power had as much mastery over reality as hers did.
Gerechtigkeit’s reality-bending power made the world around the instrument of his destruction. It could master and control everything outside the domain of creation and life. Dirt, stone, metal, cloth, water, fire, lava, even the wind—these blank slates without a spark of sentience were the perfect vessel for his consummate desire. And with them in hand, he brought forth not merely a hell... but everyone’s hell. Up, down, left, right—they became meaningless distinctions in this world of nightmares.
The rows of buildings twisted into mockeries of people he’d once known. His distant cousins, nephews and nieces, his parents, all made into incestuous abominations that clambered toward him, melting like wax with every step they took.
“You’re happy,” they whispered at him, their faces all smiles. “Can you share it?”
Argrave’s might’ve forgotten they were foes without the presence of Sophia, who squeezed his hand tighter in fear from whatever personalized nightmare she was facing. He used blood magic, clinging to the pain to ground him for what needed to be done. His parents screamed in agony as he severed their body limb-by-limb, as he watched them bleed and spasm from his attacks with light draining from their eyes. Their corpses remained, like a reminder of his sin.
White-haired children clawed at Argrave’s boots, their eyes amber and their ears elven. Each and all had umbilical cords still attached, leading back to a putrescent bloated woman with Anneliese’s face. Beside her stood himself, but instead of his own face, he bore that of Anneliese’s biological father’s—her mother’s rapist.
“Daddy!” the children sang. “Love me! Love me like mommy!”
Argrave felt rising bile in his throat as he prepared to wipe away what he saw. His children broke his legs and tried to eat his calves as he hesitated, and it was reason enough to purge that disgusting image with more blood magic than was necessary.
A sharp pain pierced Argrave’s back, and when he grasped at it pulled free a knife from his back. He looked toward its source to see Elenore, sitting atop Orion like a bench. His brother clenched Anneliese’s face, crushing it like a melon as she screamed in total agony.
“I never loved you,” Elenore said. “Not once. You’re more of a dog than he is.”
Induen, Levin, and Felipe III rushed at Argrave like frenzied ghouls, and Argrave’s blood magic raged against them with tremendous struggles. They cut his arms off near as much as he himself used them for blood magic. Sophia’s vitality kept him whole, but Argrave felt battered and broken, and he stumbled upward through time.
Sophia ran out at Argrave through the dark, and he squeezed his hand to reassure himself the one he saw was merely an illusion. She looked panicked, terrified. Before she could reach Argrave, a giant bird’s foot slammed down upon her. The Smiling Raven tore out her guts with its beak piece by piece as she screamed, and already Argrave prepared blood magic.
“I only wanted the power of creation,” the Smiling Raven said, bearing Raven’s face on its head. “You were always nothing.”
Argrave blasted it with as many [Godkillers] as he could muster, but no matter how many he sent forth it continued to devour this false Sophia as she screamed. With his final blow he wiped away both of them, and stood there immersed in his pain to keep him sane. He felt something wet strike his cheek, and looked up with an attack at the ready.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login