The great tree stood at its towering height as the Heir of Weaver sat on his throne, the old, dark, and unbelonging object contrasting with the otherwise peaceful and naturally filled place.
The golden threads danced and shimmered around the throne as the Keeper of Fate looked at the tree.
"Tell me."
The voice came.
Unfazed, the Keeper kept looking at the tree as the Child of Erasure walked forward.
"Tell me, Keeper of Fate," he asked as he looked at the sarcophagus and the ruins floating above it.
"Tell me, why do you speak as if Fate can't be defied?"
He looked at him.
"When it will be. Fate itself will create it, for Fate is helpless to it."
The Heir of Weaver looked up at him calmly.
"To it?" he said.
"To the Laws of Paradox."
The voice came.
No one reacted as the Lord of Shadows appeared next to them.
The throne disappeared as the three looked at the tree standing before them.
The Heir of Weaver stepped up and looked past them.
"Tell me, do you all know why this tree bloomed under the resting place of the Daemon of Erasure, of Oblivion?" he asked.
The Lord of Shadows stepped up.
"The lonely Daemon shed a tear upon a forgotten grave. From the tear bloomed a great tree," he said.
The Child of Erasure spoke.
"The tear was shed by Weaver, the Daemon of Fate."
He looked at the sarcophagus.
"Upon the sarcophagus of his beloved sister, whom he adored dearly."
The Heir of Weaver did not answer.
He walked forward and knelt down.
His hand came to hover near the feet of whatever remained of Oblivion that was buried there.
"Do you feel it?" he asked. "This strange connection I feel for Oblivion?"
The others did not answer.
The sound of steps from the Cursed of Truth was all that occurred.
"I have read the tapestry of Fate. I have known why they were born, how, what they did, what they desired, and where they ended," he paused as he rose to his feet.
In that moment, they did not see the threat that the great Keeper of Fate carried.
They saw a man who had lived a life more harrowing than long.
More painful than fulfilling.
More burdened than meaningful.
And yet—
When his head rose, they could not dismiss the sheer fortitude of mind, soul, and body radiating off of him.
He turned around and took his calm, confident steps.
"Perhaps this is one of the things one must live..."
He trailed off.
He probably didn't have the words to put his thoughts—
No.
Emotions into words.
Or rather...
There were no words to describe what he felt.
However, there could be a person who may have understood him.
And one such person was among them.
The Keeper of Fate felt a gentle hand on his shoulder as the eyes behind his mask met those of the Lord of Shadows.
There was no need for words between the two.
They understood each other, and what the other went through in their own ways.
The air around the Keeper of Fate lightened as he smiled faintly behind his mask.
The Lord of Shadows took his hand away and stepped forward.
Back to back, the two said nothing.
A cocoon of golden threads appeared around the Keeper of Fate as he nodded to the Cursed of Truth and the Child of Erasure.
The Lord of Shadows was not looking their way, but he turned his head to his side in acknowledgment as a swirl of shadows appeared around him.
Both disappeared.
The Cursed of Truth and the Child of Erasure looked at where they had stood moments before leaving.
The Cursed of Truth turned around.
"Of all those who rebelled against the Divine, no one suffers the same as those two."
He stopped as he looked down.
His hand rose to his mask as he trailed a finger down the dark wood.
"These masks bestowed upon us, which saved us from our torment."
The Child of Erasure looked over his shoulder.
"And yet," the Cursed of Truth continued.
"Those two were not, will not, and cannot."
The Child of Erasure looked forward at the great tree.
Perhaps the Daemon had known such two would come to honor their sister?
Who knew.
"For there are many things they must still do," the Cursed of Truth continued.
"The misery they accepted and the lives they live."
The Child of Erasure did not look at him as he spoke.
"No one truly understands them, even among us."
The Cursed of Truth took a step away as he disappeared with his words.
"Merely knowing they suffered is a Truth I must always remember."
The Child of Erasure looked down and spoke to himself.
"One that I must never forget."
Perhaps that was why, even among these seven—
The Keeper of Fate and the Lord of Shadows were the most revered.
The ones who had changed the tide of the Doom War.
The finest of warriors.
The catalysts who orchestrated the Demise of the Divine.
...
The day was bright as Sunless and Nephis sat on a sheet under the shade of a tree while Orphany played a game with some dolls.
Sunless was picking some food out of the picnic basket as the girl took Nephis's attention, explaining to her why this kingdom had to beat their ruler and make him take more breaks and make the princess the new leader.
The kingdom looked a lot like the café.
"I need to look into some backup savings, huh?" Sunless said.
Orphany heard Papa, and she looked at him as Nephis covered her mouth. Both giggled silently.
Sunless got up.
"Alright, overthrow my sweet kingdom later. First, brunch, Birdy," he said.
"Brunch!" Orphany cheered as she and Nephis got to the picnic table.
Soon, they were sitting around the table, Sunless at the head, Nephis at his left, and Orphany at his right.
"Don't swallow too fast," Nephis said worriedly as Orphany nodded and ate.
Sunless smiled at them fondly as he took a bite of his food.
However—
Sunless blinked as he noticed some hesitation in Nephis's eyes.
Yet it wasn't the kind of hesitation regarding them.
She was worried about something outside their bubble.
Nephis felt a hand on her own and snapped out of her thoughts, looking to see Sunless holding her hand gently.
Nephis smiled and turned her hand to hold his as well.
"Is everything okay?" he asked softly.
Nephis hesitated, then nodded.
Sunless didn't buy it one bit.
Nephis sighed.
Then, hesitantly, she spoke.
"Master Sunless," she called.
Sunless turned to her with his full attention.
"My lady," he said, and she looked at him. "If it's something that's bothering you, then take your time. There is no need to do things quickly."
He said it as he faintly turned his head to Orphany.
Nephis blinked, realizing what Sunless was worried about.
Before she corrected him, he squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"And if it's something that's bothering you from outside, then you can trust me with it."
He smiled softly.
"I can't promise to fix it, but I can try, or at least listen," he said.
Nephis paused.
Her face became warm, her expression melting at the gesture.
She squeezed Sunless's hand back.
She had to say this.
"Master Sunless," she asked.
Sunless looked at her carefully.
She hesitated as she glanced at Orphany, then back at him.
"What if I tell you I need to take down the Sovereigns?" she said.
...
Sunless paused as several thoughts flashed through Nephis's eyes.
Then—
"Ah—ahh!"
He let out something between a laugh and a sigh as he leaned back.
Nephis looked confused as she stared at him.
Orphany glanced at them before returning to her sandwich.
"Man! You scared me," he said as he looked at her. "I thought I did something wrong."
Nephis was confused.
"Master Sunless—"
She stopped when Sunless placed his hand back on the back of her hand.
"My lady," he began.
"If you're worried that your dreams are too large and too dangerous for us, then don't be," he said as he held her eyes.
Nephis looked at him as her lips parted.
Sunless brought his other hand and held hers.
"One thing I want you to understand is that I considered all sorts of things that your personal ambition would take you to."
He smiled at her.
"And I assure you, I want to be with you still, as well as Birdy."
Hearing her name, Orphany looked at the two adults as cheese stretched from her bite.
Nephis's heart darted, not sure how to answer.
"But Master Sunless, Orphany is—"
"I know she's young," he said. "But she'll be fine. I promise, I've considered things."
He paused.
"Listen, if you're worried that we'll get in your way or slow you down, then I understand that, and if that's the reason you want to leave—"
"No!"
Nephis cut him off quickly as her other hand shot forward to grab both of his.
Orphany looked up at them, confused. They didn't seem to be fighting, so her rising worry disappeared as she picked up a juice bottle and took sips from it.
Nephis and Sunless were looking at anything but each other.
"Master Sunless, you and Orphany will never be such a reason," she gasped.
"Maybe a much younger and foolish part of me didn't understand such things, but I do, and I know one thing."
She looked at him.
"What's the point of winning if there's no one to celebrate it with?"
She looked at Sunless deeply.
"The only thing that scares me is that you and Orphany will be in danger being associated with me," she said.
Sunless looked at her and took her hand gently.
"My lady," he said as he smiled.
"Is it really love if there's no war to protect it?" he asked.
Nephis stilled.
She didn't have an answer to it.
"No matter what kind of life one lives, love always comes with its war. Some people have to fight their nature and habits to be better, others have to keep faith in their partner and trust them."
When Orphany was too busy raising her bottle all the way up, Sunless gently kissed the back of Nephis's hand.
"I have no doubt about any of such battles when it comes to us," he said firmly.
Nephis smiled.
Yes, such things couldn't even be considered a battle. They were as easy as breathing to them.
Sunless continued.
"Our battle seems to be a more straightforward one," he said as he leaned back.
"We just have to trust the other when it comes to such outside conflicts, and I promise we'll be fine as long as we're together."
He squeezed her hand firmly.
Nephis's heart clenched as her cheeks reddened.
"Are you sure, Master Sunless?" she asked once more.
Sunless smiled more.
"I am."
For a moment, Sunless and Nephis just held each other's gaze as they smiled.
"Is everything okay?" Orphany asked suddenly.
Nephis and Sunless blinked and looked at her.
The girl was confused as she took another bite of her sandwich.
They smiled.
"Yup! Everything's great," Sunless said as he patted her hand.
"You like your sandwich?" Nephis asked.
Orphany brightened.
"Yes, it's really yummy!"
They smiled as the brunch continued.
...
Sometime later, Orphany had exhausted herself playing and had retired for a nap.
Sunless and Nephis were lying next to each other under the shade as Nephis played with Sunless's long hair.
"Master Sunless," she called.
"Hmm?" Sunless asked with his eyes closed, a pleasant smile on his face.
"Are you really sure about this? I haven't even told you what kind of things I want to fight," she said.
"You trust me, my lady?" he asked.
Nephis frowned at the question but answered.
"Yes."
Sunless smiled.
"And I trust you."
Sunless opened his eyes and looked at her.
"As for your answer, I am completely sure I don't mind."
A pause.
"In fact, I'm more worried about the things I want to tell you..." he said.
Nephis blinked.
"Things you want to tell me?" she asked.
Sunless looked up again, his eyes somewhat in thought.
'Well, I haven't told you much about myself, right?' he thought.
Nephis nodded. That was true. She didn't know much about Sunless's past.
"Well, there's not much special. At least, I don't think there is."
He smiled at her.
"Compared to my gorgeous girlfriend, the mighty Changing Star, first of humanity to conquer a Third Nightmare single-handedly."
He praised.
Nephis blushed at the praise and threw his own hair at his face before gathering more as Sunless chuckled.
For a moment, Sunless and Nephis gazed at each other.
"I'm scared," he suddenly said.
Nephis blinked. She was worried it was about her ambitions, but Sunless had reassured her about that...
"About what?" she asked.
Sunless turned to her somewhat, his expression softening, painfully so.
"I'm scared that as I'm able to tell you more about myself, you'll hate me..." he paused.
Nephis's heart clenched in worry.
"I-I have some parts of my past I want to tell you, and I'm scared it'll push you away," he paused.
"I believe there are things about me that you have the right to know. I'm just not ready to share them, and for that—"
He was shushed by a finger to his lips.
He looked up, and Nephis's eyes met Sunless's.
"Master Sunless," she said in almost a whisper.
"Yes," he said back.
"Do you have a secret wife?" she asked.
Sunless blinked.
"Huh?"
He was taken aback.
"Do you have one?" she asked again.
Sunless blinked at the abrupt question, but Nephis actually sounded serious, but unworried.
"No, never," he said.
"Another child? Other than Orphany?" she asked again.
"No."
"Any girlfriend other than me?"
"No."
"Any romantic interest or crush that might come back?"
"No."
Nephis paused.
Then, almost vulnerably—
"Do you want to hurt me?"
"Never," Sunless answered firmly.
"Do you think you'll want to?"
"Never."
"Are you a spy?"
Sunless scoffed lightly.
"No, not at all."
Nephis paused.
Then, in a gentle tone, her hands raised to hold his face.
"Then why worry?" she said.
Sunless looked at her, his eyes slowly tracing the features of her face.
"I just am..." he whispered. "I've never loved someone. Not romantically."
He paused.
"It's hard to breathe without you," he whispered.
Nephis's gaze softened.
"Then you better be the best boyfriend, Master Sunless."
She paused as a smile came to her lips.
"And that means stay the way you always are, because you're the best."
She moved her head.
"It'll make your life easier convincing me when you're finally in trouble," she said teasingly as she leaned down.
Her silver hair fell over her shoulders, spreading as it met Sunless's long black hair.
Something about the air changed as soft breaths touched them.
"Don't worry," she whispered as she looked into Sunless's eyes.
"Nephis can only love Sunless."
Sunless's hand raised to touch her waist.
"So no matter what happens, you have a very strong reassurance of being forgiven over time," she paused, a faint smile on her lips.
"But it'll take lots of sweets to do so," she said.
Sunless smiled at that.
"Done."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then—
Sunless slid his other hand to her waist and raised his right to her cheek.
Gently, he caressed her face with one hand.
Nephis looked down at him.
Their warm breaths brushed each other, but neither moved or spoke.
Nephis couldn't tell if her heartbeat was getting faster or calmer.
But that did not matter.
"My lady?" he breathed.
Nephis's eyes only traced his features as if waiting for the question she knew.
"May I?"
Nephis leaned in as the tips of their noses touched each other faintly.
Sunless's right hand went behind her neck as he pulled her down gently.
Their lips met in a feather-like touch before pressing together gently, softly.
Neither pulled back.
Neither wanted to.
Sunless's hand on her waist pulled her close, and Nephis let her body relax on his at that angle.
They didn't move much. Every now and then, their lips moved faintly, as if wanting to remind themselves this was happening.
The way Sunless's hand was behind her neck made her feel anchored to him.
Sunless's hand on her waist grounded her to him.
It was mesmerizing.
She didn't want to lose this feeling.
Ever.
Soon, they pulled back as their warm breaths brushed each other's lips, now somewhat moist.
Their faces were flushed, Nephis more so.
Embarrassed, she tried to pull away.
But Sunless didn't let her.
She looked back to meet his eyes.
His hand tightened lightly.
Nephis understood.
A smile appeared on her lips before she realized her blush deepened.
Gently, Sunless pulled her down, her face resting in the crook of his neck as her arms went around his neck. Sunless's hand slipped from her waist to her back as he hugged her.
Nephis's body relaxed over Sunless as they held each other.
Nephis nuzzled her face gently into his side as she let out a ticklish exhale.
The warm afternoon stayed as the three remained under the tree's shade for a bit longer.
Sunless, Nephis, and Orphany celebrated a wonderful picnic.
...
In the Golden Age.
Just a few centuries before the assault on the War Kingdom.
There, throughout the realms, walked a man.
He was called both wise and kind.
His presence was soothing and overwhelming.
Scholars respected him. Rulers counseled him.
Yet this man was on a mission.
Much like his companions, he too had a role to fulfill.
One much more difficult than the others.
The Keeper of Fate knew what he had done.
He had once stolen an eye.
An eye of Weaver, the Daemon of Fate.
But he was not worried. After he had stolen Weaver's eye, Divine as Weaver may be, he was also someone who could read the entire tapestry of Fate and interact with it.
The Daemon of Fate must have always known his eye would be stolen, and he had known that eye would be taken by him.
Or maybe not?
Who knew what the master of lies ever did?
Either way, the eye needed to be put to good use.
To orchestrate the demise of Gods.
His task was a frighteningly difficult one.
Much like one of his companions.
A task that could never end...
A mission that could never be fulfilled.
A battle that must rage on...
Yet—
The Keeper of Fate was determined.
To keep fighting. To raise even the slightest chance in the final battle.
His task was to read the tapestry of Fate, see what contingencies Fate could use when the time came.
A child who would become a killer and enter the Doom War on the Great Gods' side as a promising adversary?
The Keeper of Fate would guide him to a righteous path.
A king who would lead his kingdom alongside a Daemon?
Create a rebellion.
A weapon that someone would use?
Destroy it.
An uninhabited realm that would be used as a resting place?
Handle it.
Either way—
Fate would fulfill itself one way or another.
And the Keeper of Fate was not strong enough to read the entire tapestry as a Transcendent or even a Sovereign. The crushing weight of seeing the tapestry was incomparable.
His mind had nearly been liquefied with a glance that lasted less than a moment as a Transcendent.
It was frightening how hard it was to just see what Fate wanted, and the amount of time you had to comprehend it was so short.
Still, the Keeper of Fate persisted.
Even as a Sovereign, his eyes would burn and blind, his brain itself would bleed, and he would need time to heal.
Yet he read.
He read as many times as he could.
As many times as he had to.
For he had to reduce the options Fate had to fulfill itself.
Even if the ways were infinite, he had to make a difference.
In a clever way, so each action could open more paths for them.
Well...
The task was impossible, but it would amount to something. For when the end of the Doom War came, they would know what Fate wanted.
And Fate's desire was as great as its existence.
Which meant the number of ways it could be accomplished would eventually thin.
Infinite would turn to hundreds of billions.
And hundreds of billions would turn to hundreds of millions.
And hundreds of millions would turn to millions.
A few million they could handle?
And even if they couldn't...
Even if this act of rebellion was a part of the tapestry he had yet to read.
Even if all of this was for Fate to win in the end.
Even if each step was not against Fate, but him fulfilling Fate.
Or even if his thousands-of-years-long journey had been so meaningless that Fate didn't even bother killing him.
He would keep going.
Keep fighting.
Until eventually—
Seven hundred years before the assault on the Great Empire...
...
The Keeper of Fate panted lightly as he hovered in the air.
"Damn bastard!"
A roar came as a Sovereign covered the difference.
His hands trembled in pain as he held a woman in his arms.
"Don't stop! We're close to killing him!"
Another Sovereign appeared as he raised his spear.
A woman who was a stranger.
"Let the Noble Creature out now!"
One more Supreme appeared.
A woman that he had come to call his little sister.
"Keep going!"
Another Sovereign shouted.
A woman that they had murdered.
"Die, you wretch!"
The Supreme swung his axe.
His shoulders were slumpted as his body relaxed with no sigh of grief behind his demon mask.
Yet...
Two thin trails of clear liquid trailed down his jaw. One trailed into his collar and clothing.
One fell off his jawline and hit the ground.
The Keeper of Fate did not look around as he raised his chin.
Six Supremes, fifteen Transcendents, and eleven Noble Creatures of Transcendent and Supreme Ranks, alongside some dozen Ascended soldiers, surrounded him.
Great things begin with small beginnings.
This one was one starving woman who stole bread for her brother.
The owner had forgiven her.
But the world was cruel.
The prince, trying to act like a follower of justice, had not.
He ordered her to be struck with a hunter a hundred times.
That was when the roaming Keeper of Fate had appeared and stopped it.
He had not battled. He had simply paid on the woman's behalf.
Upon being questioned on why he had any right by the prince, he had made a bond with the woman.
Made her his little sister.
Called the child his brother and revealed his Rank.
Humiliated and cowering, the Transcendent prince left as the Keeper of Fate fed and clothed the woman out of the kindness of his heart.
Helping more who needed it.
Guiding even more.
Realizing his name, the king of the land had called him to his court, seeking guidance.
The Keeper of Fate did what he could and helped the kingdom.
However, the prince was humiliated and sought vengeance.
To prove the Keeper of Fate wrong, he sabotaged his own kingdom and let the enemy know of their formation.
Yet the Keeper was mighty and cunning, saw through his scheme, and saved the conflict.
That was the goal...
To stop the conflict of the two kingdoms.
Successful, he left.
When the prince filled the ears of two kings with poison.
He may be the follower of a Daemon! To let him go would incur the wrath of the Great Gods!
The Great Gods could not care for the affairs of some small kingdoms.
However, that escalated to great lengths.
Many kings united and sent forward their strongest warriors.
Most could not fight him.
Many could not find him.
So the vile prince came up with a scheme.
To draw the Supreme's attention.
They hung the woman.
The woman did not mean much in the tapestry of Fate, so when the Keeper of Fate had read the future, he could not see the thread in his vision.
When he appeared, the woman had been hung, her brother weeping, reaching for her dangling feet.
And yet—
Sovereigns lunged at him as armies appeared for battle.
The Keeper of Fate fought with all his might, taking down several Supremes. First, then second, then third.
Even eleven, alongside many Transcendents and Ascended, as well as Noble Creatures.
However, when he reached the end of his limits, he was cornered.
And yet, in that moment, in the midst of that battle, he reached them for the moment.
The woman and her brother.
The woman he called his little sister and the child he called his brother.
No one cared for the child or the woman.
She had been one more thread used by Fate to be one of the small threads that could let a more meaningful one move.
The tapestry of Fate is as cold and cruel as it is large and endless.
In it, the hung woman and her weeping brother were meaningless.
Meaningless...
Something about the Keeper of Fate changed as he looked up.
The army had cornered him.
Yet something flashed in his eyes, and his eyes became deathly.
The air hummed with energy as ethereal threads formed.
And yet—
They weren't threads of combat.
So no one could see them.
They weren't Weaving either.
They were something new.
Something in between Weaving and combat threads.
Something new to the Keeper.
If Weaving formed more Concepts, and threads of combat were just essence threads made stronger either with a True Name and numbers...
Was that how simply the Daemon of Fate would fight?
No.
The Keeper came to the answer and did what he believed was the true depth of his combat.
The strings that no one could see moved in knots.
A man threw something like fire as it engulfed the Keeper of Fate.
Yet—
When the fire disappeared, he was unharmed.
He had knoted away the concept of heat from fire.
The forces were taken aback, but they stormed.
The axe finally reached the Keeper of Fate.
And yet it didn't.
In the last moment, it simply moved as the fabric of space itself shifted.
"Wha—"
The Sovereign did not have time.
A small, thin string of combat wrapped around his head and twisted, breaking his neck, killing him.
The binds of reality.
The higher form of strings of combat, and the true form of the combat itself.
Not brute force either, nor raw abilities.
Like a knot in a cobweb, he could afford to surpass.
Maybe not the axe that was in the Supreme's hand, encased in his essence, but the space that it was moving through.
"Kill him!"
"Something happened! Move faster!"
"Damn it, that bastard!"
They could do nothing as connection-binding strings of combat appeared.
A thick trail of blood appeared under his mask, this time from his own normal eye, as he hovered and let the string holding him go.
This new form of threads was too taxing, as he felt his thoughts weaken as if on the verge of losing consciousness
As the chaos surged around him, he let the woman's body rest on the ground, the cocoon of threads protecting the child widening to cover both of them.
The child did not care for the world. With tears in his eyes, he stumbled to the corpse.
"Sister! Sister!" he cried.
Another trail of liquid appeared under his eyes as the Keeper of Fate saw the sight.
The battle ended in his favor.
He rebelled against the kingdoms and stayed for centuries, and raised the one he had called his brother in passing for decades to come.
The child grew into a young man who became a Transcendent warrior, a valiant ruler of their people, as the Keeper of Fate, who had appeared to stop two fighting kingdoms from war, left after uniting twenty kingdoms.
Years later, before the assault on the Great War Kingdom, the Keeper of Fate appeared. He met the ruler once more before the end of his life.
"We'll always be grateful to you, oh great Keeper of Fate."
The child, now an old man, knelt before the Keeper of Fate.
The Keeper of Fate believed no one owed him and pulled the man up.
"Don't be. I did nothing that deserves such praise," he had said.
The people of the kingdom cried and praised until the Keeper of Fate left.
However, as he left, he had already gone through the future of the empire.
The War Goddess's kingdom would come and kill them all in less than a century.
And then even he could not do anything.
And so he left.
In the end, only his words rang across the prospering land.
"I despise Fate."
...
The Heir of Weaver opened his eyes.
He sat upon his throne in the great hall, golden threads moving faintly around him before slowly disappearing.
"Thinking of that time?"
The voice came from the side.
The Keeper of Fate turned his head.
The Lord of Shadows sat upon his own throne, one arm resting lazily against its side.
"Ahh, Lord of Shadows," the Heir of Weaver greeted calmly.
He paused.
"Not quite. I was not."
The Lord of Shadows looked at him.
"Are you in good health?" the Keeper of Fate asked.
The Lord of Shadows scoffed.
"What would happen to me?"
He leaned farther back.
"I'm stuck in the land that was once the Sun Goddess's Divine Realm, inside a Citadel, waiting for two overgrown brats to finish overdosing on their sugar rush."
His voice was dismissive.
"Nothing is new. In the past it was a dozen Divine Titans. Now it's three Supreme Beasts."
The Keeper of Fate looked at him for a moment.
Then a faint smile appeared behind his mask.
"...Times never change, I suppose."
"They don't."
Silence settled.
The Keeper of Fate looked upward.
The Lord of Shadows watched him for a few moments before speaking again.
"Tell me."
The Keeper looked at him.
"Does that past hurt you?"
A pause.
"The kingdom War destroyed."
The Keeper of Fate regarded the question.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then—
"It does not."
The Lord of Shadows did not react.
He merely waited.
The Heir of Weaver lowered his head slightly.
"Do you know what was more miserable about my task?"
The Lord of Shadows remained silent.
"It was not the endless journey." A pause.
"Nor was it the fact that I had to lose so many people."
He paused.
"It was knowing that no matter what I did..."
His voice became quieter.
"...it would never be enough."
The Lord of Shadows' gaze remained on him.
"Whatever I built would perish.Whatever I raised would fall. Whatever I saved would eventually disappear."
"Not because I failed. Neither because I had seen Fate take it before."
The Keeper of Fate looked upward again.
"But because I already knew the ending."
A long silence followed.
"When I cried that day..."
He stopped.
"I did not cry only for the little sister."
His hands rested against the arms of his throne.
"I do not know if I even understood why I cried."
The Lord of Shadows' eyes narrowed faintly.
"Perhaps I grieved her."
His eyes grew distant.
"Perhaps I grieved all those before her, or perhaps the many of those after."
The Keeper of Fate smiled faintly.
There was no warmth in it.
"Or perhaps..."
He paused.
"...I had simply lived in a way that I no longer knew where one grief ended and another began."
The hall became still.
"I did not know whether I had grown numb to pain..."
His head lowered.
"...or whether I simply lived in such a constant state of suffering that pain had become second nature."
The Lord of Shadows said nothing.
There was nothing to say.
The Keeper of Fate looked forward.
"My heart is heavy and my existence is exhausted, for I know the beginning, the after, and the end."
A pause.
"I save a child... knowing when he will die. I raise a kingdom... knowing when its walls will crumble. I guide a ruler... And I know who will sit upon his throne centuries after his bones are dust."
The Keeper of Fate's voice remained calm.
That calmness only made the words heavier.
"I have watched people celebrate victories while already knowing the shape of their ruin. watched children grow while knowing the day they would become old. I have watched civilizations rise while knowing exactly where Fate intended to bury them."
His fingers tightened faintly.
"And still..."
The Lord of Shadows looked at him.
The Keeper of Fate closed his eyes.
"...I tried to do... something?"
A faint breath left him.
"I suppose that was the only thing I could do."
The Lord of Shadows leaned back.
"No."
The Keeper of Fate opened his eyes.
The Lord of Shadows looked toward him.
"It was what you chose to do."
The Keeper of Fate stared at him.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then—
A faint smile appeared behind the Heir of Weaver's mask.
"Ahh..."
He leaned back as well.
"Perhaps."
For a moment, neither spoke.
"But you understand that, don't you, Lord of Shadows?" he asked with a gentle tone.
"Whatever do you mean?" he said.
The Heir of Weaver sounded amused.
"Oh, but did you face a task as impossible as my own? After all, in the end, I succeeded and changed my path even before the assault on the War Kingdom, whereas you kept going all the while until the Doom War began," he said.
The Lord of Shadows did not say anything.
"My task was not to take all the possibilities, and I did not. In the end, all the millions of possibilities that were left began from the most important beings across the realms, those who were at the center of the war. So, in that sense, I succeeded, whereas you..."
He paused.
"Well, your task was not fair, was it?" he said, almost teasingly.
The Lord of Shadows looked away and scoffed faintly.
The Heir of Weaver softened.
"Truly, I will always respect you for what you did, oh great Lord of Shadows," he said.
The Lord of Shadows did not answer him immediately.
"How many times have I told you all not to call me that?"
The Heir of Weaver let out a sound of amusement.
"I apologize."
A pause.
"Oh great Lord of Shadows."
"I'll rip your eye out."
...
It was nighttime when Nephis asked Sunless for some time with Orphany.
Which was why she was in her room with the girl.
"Why do I have to go to bed? I just slept in the afternoon," Orphany asked.
"That's because you slept for forty minutes, Orphany," she said.
Orphany hopped at the edge of her bed.
"How long is forty minutes, Pretty Miss? Papa said I have to sleep seven to nine hours every night," she said.
Nephis smiled.
"That's longer than forty minutes. Sixty minutes make one hour," she said.
Orphany's face scrunched as she raised her tiny hands.
"Let's see. If one finger is ten minutes and six fingers is sixty, then I need nine more six fingers..."
She paused as she raised the other four fingers.
Her face fell.
"I don't have enough fingers!" she said.
Math level: impossible.
Nephis restrained a silent giggle at that before looking at the girl.
Hesitating, she spoke.
"Orphany?"
"Hmm?"
The girl looked up, smiling.
"Orphany, I wanted to talk to you about something. You remember? Our secret talk?" she asked.
Orphany blinked, then beamed.
"Yes, I do! What was it, Pretty Miss?" she asked.
Nephis smiled softly as she took Orphany's tiny hands in her own, making the girl blink in confusion.
"Orphany, we met a bit long ago, right?" she said.
Confused, the girl tilted her head but nodded.
Nephis smiled more and caressed her cheek with one hand before going for her hands again.
"You know, ever since I met you, Orphany, I've had so much fun with you."
A pause.
"I've had so much fun with you too, Pretty Miss!" she said.
Though her voice was excited, it was tiny too, as if she was understanding something important was happening.
Nephis took in a breath.
"Orphany, seeing you smile and laugh and have fun has made me realize something very important," she said.
Orphany's confusion and excitement melted into something vulnerable, as if her instincts knew where this was going before her mind could ever piece it together.
"Pretty Miss...?"
"Orphany, when you smile, it makes me happy. When you laugh, I can't help but smile either. When you're playing, having fun, it all makes me so happy. And when you're sad or hurt, I feel hurt. When you are scared, I want to make your fear go far away and protect you."
Nephis paused as she brought Orphany's hand close to her mouth.
"Orphany, I grew up without a mama too, so I don't know what it feels like to have one."
She looked at Orphany, who had frozen.
"But being with you... I want to be one, Orphany," she said.
Orphany seemed to snap out of her trance-like state, but she had clearly heard everything.
Nephis kissed the back of Orphany's tiny hands.
"Orphany, would you like to call me Mama?" she asked.
However—
"Hiccup."
Orphany sniffed as Nephis remained still, seeing her tears.
"My mama?" she asked.
Nephis looked at her as the girl's eyes glistened.
"Pretty Miss wants to be my mama?" she asked again.
Nephis looked at her and smiled as she felt her own eyes grow moist.
"Yes, Orphany. I want to be your mama. Do you think I can be your mama?" she asked.
Orphany sniffed again.
"If Pretty Miss be my mama, she won't leave, right?" she asked in a small voice.
Nephis paused but smiled again as she reached closer.
"No, Orphany. I promise. If you let me, I'll never leave."
Finally, a drop of tears fell from Orphany's eyes, followed by another, and then another.
Orphany sniffed and hiccuped as she reached forward with her tiny arms.
"Mama?"
She called again, questioningly, as Nephis reached forward and wrapped her arms around Orphany, pulling her off the edge of the bed into a hug as Orphany buried her face in the crook of her neck.
"My mama?" she somewhat asked again, as if testing what she was allowed to say.
Nephis hugged her back tighter.
"Your mama, Orphany. I'm your mama."
Orphany sniffed as her tiny body trembled again, hugging Nephis with her tiny arms with all the strength she could muster.
"My mama... don't leave me, please," she said.
Nephis nodded against her as she stood up.
"Want to stay with me tonight, Orphany?" she asked.
Orphany nodded through her sniffs.
Smiling, Nephis took Orphany to her room, closing the door behind her.
As she sat herself in bed, she lay on her side, pulling the blankets over them.
Orphany nuzzled into her neck as Nephis hugged her.
Nephis smiled faintly and hugged her closer.
Orphany spoke this time.
"Mama."
She called again.
"My mama."
Nephis smiled more as she looked down and kissed the top of her head.
"You're my baby,"
Orphany nuzzled closer.
"I love you, Mama," Orphany said.
Nephis smiled and looked down.
"I love you too, Birdy," Nephis replied.
...
The Golden Age.
There was a man.
A man who became an Ascended.
An Ascended who became a slave.
A slave of the Great War Empire.
A slave who became a Transcendent.
And then—
A Transcendent who slit a God's throat.
That was the first act of Divine desecration the great Lord of Shadows committed.
The man had not wanted to be a slave, but if that's what his objective required, he did it and left.
That was how he incurred the wrath of the Great Goddess of War.
In an endless chain of permutations, the great and mighty Lord of Shadows kept fighting.
For he had a mission.
The most harrowing one of them all.
To kill them.
To kill them all.
To kill the Divine.
To kill the Unholy.
To kill the Sacred.
To kill the Cursed.
To kill the lesser gods.
To kill the Gods.
To kill the Great Gods.
To kill the Daemons.
To kill their forces.
To kill their powers.
To kill, to kill, to kill.
And keep on killing until there is nothing left to kill.
To destroy until there is nothing left to destroy.
To weaken the Great Gods and their forces.
To weaken the Daemons and their forces.
If the Keeper of Fate had been told to kill all the pieces around the main players that were in the tapestry of Fate's plan—
The Lord of Shadows had been told to weaken, if not outright kill, the main pieces.
The main pieces that were Divine.
They were the Great Gods and Daemons.
And he had been carrying that task since he was a mere Ascended.
Then he became a Transcendent.
And even while killing the Great Gods and the Daemons, their warriors and such—
If he could not kill the Gods, he had to destroy their armies.
If he could not do that, he had to kill their warriors.
If not that, then destroy their weapons. If they relied on any other form of power, he came for it.
Either way, his task was the most simple and straightforward.
As well as harrowing.
To kill them all.
A task so impossible it was quite literally the last step for their great plan to be fulfilled.
Naturally, the task was the most unfair.
And naturally, that was the reason it was given to the man who could not care less for unfairness.
The great Lord of Shadows took that task and remained a Transcendent for centuries.
Then a Sovereign.
And as a Sovereign, he fought many great battles.
One such was this...
Five hundred years before the assault on the Great War Kingdom.
The land was prosperous and lively, with many people living in it peacefully.
However, one day, something happened. A form of power descended into the mountains nearby as the mortals stared.
Soon, the land came to be barren and dry, crawling with insects as drought came.
When all hope seemed lost, a wandering Sovereign came.
The Sovereign bore the mask of a Daemon who walked upon the realms as a force against the Great Gods and the Daemons.
Hearing the pleas of the people, he walked to the depths of the mountains and did not return for several days.
Until—
SWISH!
BOOM!
A comet came and fell out of the mountains, clearing the cloudy sky after days.
Not really.
The moment—
BOOM!
BOOSH!
BAM!
A figure was flying through many mountains as a hideous and grotesque creature roared its way forward.
The figure shot right back from the dust and debris as the Lord of Shadows raised his odachi, cutting through the space to cut through something invisible he could only detect from the mastery of all his senses.
'Tell me.'
The inhuman voice came.
Cursed and Corrupt as it may be, it was a lesser god. Despite being an abomination, it was capable of thinking.
But the Lord of Shadows had fought enough of such creatures to be bothered.
Still...
'Do you think you can kill me?' it asked.
The Lord of Shadows did not speak as he dashed to his left.
Then appeared to its right, then left, and then right.
Soon, several afterimages of the man appeared in either direction as the man appeared and disappeared from sight in a raw burst of speed.
The abomination did not look around as it communicated telepathically.
'You are but a mere demigod... I will crush you, the insect you are—'
"Yeah?"
The calm voice came as suddenly time slowed in perception.
The abomination's lone eye widened as it looked.
The Lord of Shadows's demonic mask and his dark clothing, combined with his flaring long white hair, were a sight to behold.
As if Death itself had taken a form, a shape, and descended on a battlefield.
His blade moved before the abomination could, lodging into its eye, filling it with his unique Supreme Will.
"AGGGGHHHHHH!"
The hideous roar came.
"The last god I killed thought about the same thing," the Lord of Shadows said.
The abomination let out a wail of agony.
The Lord of Shadows jumped back as he made distance. His eyes darted to the side only for a moment as he leaped back.
'Y-You will pay!'
"Fuck off."
The Lord of Shadows threw things that turned into Supreme Titans as they bit onto the abomination from all sides, dragging it towards the open space.
Well...
It looked like an open space, but the Lord of Shadows already knew what this was.
His eyes darted in one direction again.
The kingdom of millions was that way.
If their battle continued here, this lesser god and him would end up destroying the lands.
So he did what he did best.
Took the fight against a lesser god and—
Jumped over the abomination as his Titans served obediently. He swung his blade with his Will and essence, tearing through space.
A ripple came.
A land appeared.
A faint smile came behind his mask as the two beings fell into the place.
The realm of the Daemon of Imagination.
The battle would rage on for days to come, at the end of which the Cursed and Supreme would tear a small part of the realm apart isolating it from the Daemon's control.
When the Daemon of Imagination appeared, the Lord of Shadows would imagine a Citadel and saturate it with shadows stolen from the Great God of Shadows, making it a stronghold for himself, mocking the Daemon and marking another Divine desecration, making an enemy of the Divine.
"How dare you, mortal—you think I will let you get away with such—"
"If you want the little place back, come take it. Though I'm tired, so I'll imagine a bed large enough for two if your Divine spine can handle me."
The Shadow mocked and disappeared.
And yet...
When alone, the Lord of Shadows panted as he sat.
It was not the first, nor would it be the last.
For the great Lord of Shadows had to slay what could simply be cut.
To be tasked to defy what governs all of existence?
Such was the nature of his task.
The man breathed and then went on his path.
For the next day would bring another battle.
Another God he must kill.
Another Divine he must defy.
Another abomination he must slay.
Another army he must face.
Another day he must live.
Such was the pain of his task.
Over and over and over and over and over.
For it to never end.
Until the very end.
...
"Sunless~" Nephis moaned fainty as she panted
Sunless nibbled her upper lip as she pressed herself closer.
"Stay," Sunless said as he kissed her deeper.
Nephis felt her back press lightly against the wall, though there was not much pressure. If she wanted, she could pull free.
Her arms snaked around Sunless's neck as she felt him nibble on her lower lip. Their breaths were warm and their lips were moist as Sunless kissed her deeper.
His left arm wrapped around her, reaching her other shoulder and then moving behind her head to pull her deeper in as he growled.
"Never leave."
There was nothing demanding or forceful in that tone, merely a request, and she wasn't going to disappoint.
She pulled Sunless in tighter as a shiver went down her spine, followed by Sunless's own right hand, which trailed her spine and caressed her lower back before moving to her waist and pressing their flush together.
How did anything get to this?
That morning.
As the morning light seeped into his bedroom, Master Sunless's eyes opened calmly as a small smile came to his lips.
The smile widened when he remembered yesterday's events, a pleasant expression coming to his face as he remembered his kiss with Nephis.
With a groan, he sat up and ran a hand through his long, luscious hair before getting off the bed.
As usual, making sure that Orphany was sleeping well, he first exited his room to see the girl.
His eyes wandered to the door exactly opposite hers as a smile came to his lips.
Nephis had stayed the night, and he was more than happy to accommodate her. After all, she was no longer a guest now.
With a fond shake of his head, he opened Orphany's door lightly.
"Birdy," he called faintly.
However, he froze when he saw the bed empty.
His head jerked back as he entered the room and looked carefully.
"Birdy," he called a little more carefully before looking around the room, then exiting it and checking the bathroom.
Not finding her there, he went to the hall and the café, as well as the backyard, before determining that she was nowhere.
With only one room left to check, he appeared before Nephis's room, slightly panicked, and faintly knocked twice.
"My lady," he called faintly, but received no answer.
He tried twice more before deciding that he needed to check and carefully opened the door, peeking in and making sure everything was alright, only for him to freeze yet again as he saw the sight.
Nephis was lying on her side, and he could clearly see a tiny leg and arm around her.
And he realized what was happening.
The events from yesterday came back to his head as he realized that Nephis must have talked to Orphany.
He didn't need much to determine things, as his lips broke into a small smile and his shoulders relaxed.
He opened the door a little more and stood at the frame to see the sight.
For a moment, he forgot about manners and such and could only drink in the sight of the two girls.
His arms folded as he leaned against the doorframe when Nephis stirred.
With a light groan, she felt the presence and looked over her shoulder, only for a small, pleasant smile to come to her lips.
She was about to speak when Sunless raised a finger to his lips and shushed her.
Orphany groaned something from the movement but didn't wake up as Nephis's other hand caressed her little head.
Sunless took a step back as he prepared to close the door.
He brought his hand to his lips and sent a flying kiss.
Nephis smiled more as she made a gesture of catching the kiss and brought her fist to her heart. As she opened it, she pressed it against her chest.
Sunless closed the door as Nephis turned back to Orphany, whose head was right under her chin.
As the door clicked shut, Orphany mumbled,
"Mama..."
Nephis smiled more and kissed the top of her head before holding the little girl closer and falling asleep for a little longer.
...
A sliding sound came as Nephis and Orphany walked into the kitchen in their nightwear.
"Good morning," Sunless said over his shoulder as Nephis smiled at him and Orphany ran forward.
"Good morning, Papa!" she exclaimed as she hugged his leg and looked up.
"Papa, Papa! I have a mama now! Pretty Miss is my mama now!" she said.
Sunless froze before smiling and turning around, picking Orphany up and kissing her cheek.
"Really? That's wonderful!" he said.
However, Nephis saw that he too had felt the weight of the words.
Clearly, understanding and seeing Orphany say it were different for him.
Orphany turned her head to smile at Nephis, but Sunless only looked into her eyes and saw the joy in them.
Nephis smiled at both of them as she drank in the sight of Sunless and Orphany.
Nephis smiled when Orphany had a hugging urge and walked over to them.
Sunless too wrapped his arm around her as Orphany reached with her tiny arms around both of them.
"Mama, Papa," she said.
Sunless and Nephis froze for a moment before relaxing into the embrace and kissing her head.
"Yes, Mama, Papa," they repeated in sync.
For a moment, silence reigned.
Then—
"Okay, time to brush," Sunless said as Orphany groaned and Nephis giggled slightly.
Letting Orphany down on the ground, the girl ran as Nephis followed for her own morning rituals.
As they walked into the hall and Orphany entered the restroom, Nephis didn't notice Sunless immediately.
"My lady," he called, stepping behind her.
Nephis looked over her shoulder, only for her wrist to be gently taken as she was pulled into an embrace.
Nephis smiled widely.
Consent mattered, but there were points when sudden displays of affection made the heart skip.
It seemed Master Sunless and her were in agreement on that.
Her hands wrapped around him as she looked at him.
A kiss landed on her chin.
"Thank you," he said fondly.
Nephis looked at him with her own smile.
"For what?"
Sunless raised his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"For choosing us and for choosing Birdy," Sunless said.
Nephis's face softened.
She ran a hand through Sunless's long hair.
"Then thank you too," she said.
Sunless only looked at her.
"For letting me stay," she said.
Sunless smiled and answered her with a kiss.
Nephis melted into it as she ran her hands through Sunless's hair, her fingers in his scalp.
Sunless pulled back as he took a step.
Nephis giggled as each step was followed by a kiss.
Step.
"Do."
Step.
"You."
Step.
"Know."
Step.
"How."
Step.
"Happy."
Step.
"You."
Step.
"Make."
Step.
"Me."
Nephis giggled with each kiss and step until her back touched the wall.
Sunless kissed her deeply as Nephis reciprocated happily.
Both pulled back for a moment and looked into each other's eyes.
For a moment, their smiles softened as they just looked at each other.
Black and silver.
Memories of the not-so-few short months flashed as she remembered everything.
Sunless made her heart beat quickly, made her feel special through things so small they should not have mattered, yet somehow did, and still made her feel like she was his world.
The days she played with Orphany, caring for the games and their rules.
The meals they shared.
The time Sunless, Nephis, and Orphany spent together.
She could tell Sunless was thinking the same thing.
Then—
As if a string of restraint, concern, or whatever it was snapped—
Sunless leaned forward, and Nephis received him as their lips slipped into something more.
Warmer?
Hotter?
Firmer?
They didn't have the words for it.
They didn't look for any.
...
Orphany looked to her left.
Then to her right.
Confused, she tilted her head.
"Is everything okay, Mama, Papa?" she asked.
"Yes."
The answer came in sync as the two did not look at each other, their faces bright red from embarrassment.
Point to be noted, Orphany was one room away, and her innocence was one door away.
Orphany tilted her head before turning to the food with a smile.
...
The dark halls were quiet.
Silence reigned for a long moment.
The Heir of Weaver did not speak immediately.
"...Will we truly do it?" he asked.
The Lord of Shadows finally turned to see his face.
The Heir of Weaver was looking into the endless height.
"...We have to," he answered.
The Heir of Weaver grew quiet.
"After all this time..." he said. "It feels impossible, does it not? After everything we achieved..."
"The final battle is yet to come, and we have to rise again to what we were."
"We will not stop," the Lord of Shadows said.
"The seven who sit on these thrones have rebelled against the Divine... and yet."
His eyes narrowed.
"It matters little."
The Heir of Weaver nodded.
"For the Great Gods were no more than pawns, and the Daemons were no different. Our objective was beyond that."
He paused.
"And it still is."
The Lord of Shadows kicked off his throne as he stood straight and walked forward.
More relaxed, the Heir of Weaver followed.
"Let us not waste time," the Heir of Weaver said as he got up as well.
The Heir of Weaver descended the steps.
"After all, we still have to fight."
The Lord of Shadows stepped down as well.
"The others accomplished their tasks well."
They both stepped onto the marble floor at the same time.
Golden threads appeared around the Keeper of Fate.
Shadows stirred behind the Lord of Shadows's steps.
"We are the only ones left who have yet to accomplish what we were supposed to."
The two met at the center of the marble floor.
"Ahh, I wish I could have done something as grand as the others, but I suppose such burdens were ours to bear," he said.
"It matters not, for we will do what we set out for."
The darkness moved in the great hall.
"To have Weaver's eye is not to have the curse of a Daemon."
"To have the blood of a Great God is not to have the boon of a Great God."
The Lord of Shadows's throne was situated directly opposite the Heir of Weaver's, as both looked down at the center of the marble floor, as if they were the right and left hands of what lay there as the ruler.
Darkness moved, as it always covered the space between the two thrones.
An empty space appeared where a throne could be.
Now, the darkness carried another being's ring of steps as more darkness moved.
Both spoke.
"To be tied to that being is to not be bound to Fate."
A dark throne appeared, made of simple design. Golden threads swirled around it as if fleeing from within, while the marble itself distorted as if it were a shadow.
"To fulfill the objectives bestowed upon us by the one above the Great Gods, Daemons, as well as the Void and the Flames."
"To fulfill the wishes of the existence that predates the Great Gods, Daemons, and time."
Both spoke at the same moment.
Runes appeared on each throne.
The Keeper of Fate, the Heir of Weaver.
The Lord of Shadows, the Heir of Shadows.
The Cursed of Truth, the Bane of Ariel.
The Seer of Paths, the Bane of Nether.
The Crown of Grace, the Beloved of the Divine.
The Harbinger of Ruin, the Bane of War.
The Child of Erasure, the Heir of Oblivion.
And finally, the grand throne of the great hall.
"The will of the greatest of abominations."
The Greatest of Abominations.
The Third Paradox.