The unceasing earthquakes had drawn a surprising number of individuals to the western reaches. They crossed through Aza’s half-burnt corpse, some stopping to aid those in need, but still focusing on their sole mission: to search for its source.

  Would they ever stop? What was causing the endless quakes? Those same two questions surfaced within the minds of every person on the far end of the continent. Something was coming. If it wasn’t for the solemn, magical chimes ringing out all across the Outlands and beyond, they still would have known. A certain rising feeling was present deep inside all of them.

  Something was coming.

  Something old.

  Something that had arrived long ago was finally returning. What this truly meant, not a soul had a clue. The truth pulled them ever closer, like prey to an angler’s bioluminescent lure.

  People from all walks of life tread along the hills, plains, and rocky cliffs. Some even pushed through the treacherous desert from down south. A few knight squads from Altruin rode horses along the desert border. Pilgrims of different faiths fervently walked and rode carriages across the expanse. Frostlanders and Frostmaw sellswords came in from the wintery north. Every member of the Church of the Goddess, including their pastoress Nyame, left Aza for their exodus. Even some select knights and mercenaries from Reville, some riding aboard a solitary airship, graced the rumbling’s center with their presence.

  After some time, they had all come to one singular place. A small town situated near the coast of the Outlands and the Greatwoods, populated by no one. It was a barren, slightly rocky plain dotted with burnt and battered homes that were void of any human life. All that roamed the land were an assortment of land animals of the livestock variety. Sheep, goats and the sort looked upon the army of intruders with caution. Most fled to the other side of the plain, wishing not to interfere with the whims of human beings and their alien modes of transportation.

  The aforementioned cavaliers of Altruin, draped in blue and white ornamental cloth and armor, sat upon their grazing horses after a brief respite. They had made camp along the desolate village, separated from the other factions just as those factions separated from them. Though there was no cause for strife among themselves, there was an unspoken hostility and ire in the air. It was tangible with a distinct smell, past the stench of dust and animal dung.

  “Hah… what I wouldn’t give for a bowl of warm soup right about now. I’m starving.”

  Another knight lightly holding the reins of his horse nearby came closer to the man who had just spoken. He seemed to be the man’s friend or comrade. “Yeah. Or some rabbit stew. Something other than field rations and moldy bread would be nice, ‘specially since we came out all this way for nothing.”

  The first man blew his nose with a pearlescent handkerchief, staining it with cold-ridden snot. He had a grayed beard and mustache, each ending in wispy white hairs that curled upward. He eyed his comrade as if studying him, then scowled slightly. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Apparently…” The man was lost in thought for a moment.

  “Apparently…?”

  The bearded man coughed into his handkerchief, finally gathering his thoughts. “Apparently these quakes have been going on here for the last couple days. Locals said they’ve been getting worse and worse every hour. Now, even people in Aza are feeling them.”

  “Captain Reginald!” Their conversation was interrupted by another knight’s arrival. He rode in and gathered by their side, completing the trifecta. “I have word from the prince.”

  “Go on, lad.” The man wiped his nose for the last time, finally storing away the violated piece of cloth.

  The new knight was a young fellow with beady eyes. He swallowed, his dry throat hurting him and causing him to wince. He nodded affirmatively and continued. “Prince Alexander has now recognized these quakes as a national issue. If we are in need of more troops, we need only send word ourselves. And another thing.”

  Reginald raised an eyebrow as if to ask, ‘Yes? What is it?’

  “The Court Magicians… they are saying that we must abandon our posts in haste. They say that only certain death awaits if we stay in this land. But what could they be so afraid of? There is nothing here but dead crops and dying farm animals.”

  Knight Captain Reginald looked away as if ignoring the question. A stagnant wind pulled at his facial hair. He felt a bit sick to his stomach. “We are but ants in the footprint of the world, men. Nature is our mistress and tormentor at all times. Though we have built leagues of kingdoms and property upon its back, our mother nature and the planet can whisk us away with ease, casting our sinful bodies against the stones. We have little say in the way of things.”

  “Captain…” The hungry man stared at Reginald with disease.

  “Take heart, lads.” He turned his head to look upon them again, flashing a valiant smile that did not at all fit his vagrant features. “I have a feeling it is but a passing trial. Something as little as a slight rumble is nowhere near enough to topple our mighty Altruin. There is nothing to be afraid of. Now, let us ride further on and examine the fault.”

  A couple dozen feet away, a band of mercenaries, disavowed knights, and some Frostmaw warriors looked on at the Altruin cavaliers with distaste.

  “Hmph. So it is true. Everyone from Altruin is a coward and a fool.” A huge man, not at all human, grumbled to himself with crossed arms. He seemed to be half-man, half-beast. Bladed black hairs grew out from his limbs and chest like razorgrass.

  “Perhaps that is why they have survived and prospered for so long, even after the war.” A knight in black armor with red accents replied in a stern tone.

  “No way!” A young girl with blonde hair wielding a large hammer yelled in disagreement. She held up her sledge as if she was about to flatten the two others for their rudeness. “Altruin knights are the bravest of the brave! Haven’t you read Into the Maw by… oh damn. Can’t remember the author’s name. But it’s about these Altruinians that battle an entire dragon nest by themselves and come out alive! Only a small squad of ten or so knights! And they do it all using little to no magic!”

  “Lumi…” A man with short black hair nearby sighed and pulled at the girl’s arm in an attempt to escape the awkwardness of the discussion.

  “Fiction, I’d bet.” The black knight stood resolutely, his hands resting upon the pommel of his greatsword dug into the dry dirt below their feet.

  “No! It is not fiction! You’re dumb!”

  “What!? I say…!” The man lost his composure briefly before returning to his previous apathetic facade. He let out a cough to cleanse the dismay from his mind. “I do not believe something if I have not seen it with my own eyes. The words and rambles of a common writer cannot be trusted, as they give no proof to their claims and stories. I also have no desire to speak with a child about such things.”

  “I am NOT a child!”

  The knight’s entire upper half, restrained by his creaking gear, teetered down and up as if he were examining the girl. “If not, then you certainly have the body of one.” He snickered annoyingly.

  “That does it!”

  Before she could do as much as murder the man, Rook pulled Lumi off to the side and scolded her. Meanwhile, the childishly clammoring knight stood triumphantly as if he had just conquered a difficult quest. The beastman glared at both of them with chained hatred.

  “We’ve got a job to do, so try to get along with everyone, okay?”

  Lumi crossed her arms and pouted. Her eyes rolled and she glanced to the side to escape from Rook’s lecture. “Whatever. This job stinks, anyway. We’ve been waiting here forever and nothing’s happened.”

  “We’re supposed to be scouting and investigating.”

  Lumi looked at Rook with narrowed eyes. “Investigating, huh? Investigating what? These earthquakes are nothing special. Probably just the coast breaking off into the sea or something.” She sighed. “We were supposed to go to that fancy cafe today in Reville. Instead, we’re sitting out in the middle of nowhere with these creeps. No offense.”

  The beastman continued eyeing her with disdain. The knight ceased his chipper laughter and stood defiantly. He was hypocritically shouting, “Creep? I say! What rudeness!” But Lumi ignored him, his pompous cries fading into the background.

  Rook wanted to chastise the girl again, but relinquished that she had made a valid point. They’d been waiting around for a few hours now with little to nothing of note happening. He rubbed the wrapped hilt of his sword anxiously. The folds and creases of the dense fabric felt good against his skin, calming him somewhat. Staring out into the desolate Outlands, he too wanted to leave and rest in a warm, cozy cafe somewhere far away from there. Something told him to leave and never come back. A hunch, or an itch of some kind clawed at his consciousness. An indescribable feeling urged him to take her hand and run as far away as possible, but he tried to suppress said urge. He chalked it up to his latent sloth goading him into succumbing to laziness and tried to shake it off. A shiver ran up his spine.

  “Well, I guess we still got to see an airship, anyway. I just don’t get what all the fuss is about.”

  “Stop treating this like some normal occurrence,” the beastman barked. “If these really were common, random quakes, there wouldn’t be such a fuss. Altruin knights. A Reville airship. Even that damned cult from Aza showed up. You really think we’d all be sent to check in on some Outlander countryside for no reason? You really are amateurs.”

  The itch digging at Rook worsened. His chest ached. “Then what do you think it is?”

  Still crossing his arms, the beastman thought for a moment, then shrugged his hairy shoulders. “I don’t know, either. That’s exactly what I mean, though. That’s why everyone is here. None of us know. Or maybe some of them have some idea, and if that’s the case, then maybe we should get the hell out of here. This much personnel is a bit concerning, really. It shows that the bigwigs in charge are worried about something. And if they’re worried, then we ought to be shitting our pants.”

  At that moment, before Rook could open his mouth to respond, the rumbling became a terrible shaking. The very earth threatened to throw them off the planet and into orbit. Everyone’s legs numbed. Some fell to the ground, unable to keep their balance. The members of the Church kneeled and pressed their hands together in prayer.

  “Join us in prayer, one and all! Our mother and god returns to us on this day! The promised day!” Nyame preached with raised arms. She wore a white dress dotted with swirling stitching that swayed in the gathering wind.

  The Church members chanted. “Ab intra. Ab origine. Absit iniuria. Absit invidia. Absit omen. Ab uno disce omnes. Abyssus abyssum invocat. Ad altiora tendo. Ad astra. Ad fontes. Ad meliora. Ex silentio. Ex luna scientia.”

  Nyame repeated the chant, bringing her splayed arms into a prayer as well. A zealous smile stretched across her face. For those who saw it, an inexplicable shudder racked their body. “From within. From the source. Let insult be absent. Let envy be absent. Let omens be absent. From one, learn all. Deep calleth unto deep. I strive for higher things. To the stars. To the sources. Towards better things. From silence. From the moon, knowledge.”

  The clouds tore open, illuminating all in golden splendor. The chirping of birds and cries of goats and sheep hushed all at once as if the sun had eclipsed rather than showed its beaming visage to the world. The once overcast day had become a beautiful, nostalgic summer one.

  Nyame continued, the chanting of her followers bolstering her prominent voice. She sounded like an angel delivering an enigmatic song to humanity. “Forgive the sinners of Sirithis, for they could not accept their fate as chicks within the dying yolk of time. They could not understand that our mother the Goddess is the egg that holds reality in balance.”

  “Amen,” the others chimed.

  “Forgive the sinners of Aza, for they could not understand the futility of technology and magic alike. They could not fathom our mother the Goddess’s plan for each and every one of us.”

  “Amen,” the others chimed again.

  “Forgive the sinners of Altruin and Frostmaw, for their war waged in greed and envy did naught but tear us asunder and rend our values. They could not understand that life itself is wealth enough, and it was granted by our mother the Goddess alone.”

  “Amen,” the others chimed once more.

  “Forgive us all, if you would. Forgive the world, forgive your pupils, forgive humanity for our slovenly pride and arrogance. We are not worthy of being your spawn, but your children we are nonetheless. We give ourselves unto you to do as you wish. That is our fate and destiny.”

  “That is our fate and destiny,” the others repeated.

  At the feet of the Altruin cavaliers, who had gone ahead and were now at the very center of the rumbling’s core, the earth split open like a gaping wound. The ground cracked and splintered, millions of spidering tears ripping the skin of the world for all to peer within. It grew wider and wider until it was a great hole, then it grew wider still. It had come to the size of a dragon when suddenly a terrifying hush came across everything again, just as it had when the sky opened up. The quakes abruptly came to a halt, slightly replenishing the sanity of the gathering. The splitting, too, stopped. All that was left was the massive hole in the center of the land for all to see.

  The crowd began murmuring amongst themselves. Panic and unease swept over the field like a wildfire.

  Rook took Lumi’s hand and began absentmindedly pulling her away from the chaos. Even as he did so, not a single coherent thought passed through his mind. They shuffled through his head like a deck of cards, each one showing him a glimpse of what the future had in store but never staying around long enough for him to come to any concrete conclusion. In his heart of hearts, he only knew that he had to stay and witness what would come next. Never again in his lifetime would he be able to see whatever lay in store for them all. That’s what he thought.

  Up above the stirring mercenaries and knights, the Reville soldiers aboard the hovering airship gaped in awe just as the ones below did.

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  “Do not falter, men.” The commander spoke in a harsh tone. A twinge of worry plagued his words. “If I give the signal, I want you to fire all artillery upon whatever crawls out of that pit. Understood?”

  “Yes, Commander…” The men trailed off in perplexity.

  Deafening silence. Even the great chimes that rang out across the expanse pittered out into barely audible sounds.

  Then, a light. The massive hole’s interior was lit aflame with a coarse, white light that made anyone too close scrunch up their eyelids into tiny slits. As it grew brighter, something else came into view. A white, heavenly mass ascended and emerged from the tear in the world. It levitated deftly out from the crater, unhindered by any worldly force, and settled neatly five or ten feet above the ground. It looked like a flower or cocoon. Its ‘petals’ wrapped tightly around itself as a flower bud does when it’s growing before sprouting forth come springtime. The dirt and mud beneath it paled underneath its weight. The grass died and sunk into the pallid floor stretching out from its eminence.

  “C-C-Captain… what is that?”

  Reginald of Altruin stared wide-eyed at the floral oddity. He couldn’t bring himself to form words into a reply. If anything, he was surprised his subordinate had managed to do so before such a menacing… thing. There really was no other way he could word it. It was a great, pale thing that resembled something both known and completely unknown. Its form resembled a child’s perfect mental image of a beautiful, pure white flower. But everything else about it sent overwhelming terror into those with a better sense about them.

  As he opened his mouth to speak, a common crow soared over the stunned crowd and slowly approached the flower, flapping its wings to prepare for a soft landing. Then, it landed. A few seconds passed. Then, some more. And just when it appeared that all was well and good, the bird’s onyx black color evaporated instantly. Its eyes, too, whitened into a look of death. It cricked its neck and wings in an attempt to get away, but it was far too late. The bird, its body made monochrome, fell to the equally pallid ground with a thud and died.

  Nyame was the first to bring herself to form any words at all. “Ah~” She took a few paces forward towards the hovering thing, then lowered her head in respect and reverence. “My Goddess… I knew you would return! I knew it would be so! When we are in our greatest time of need, as well! When all hope seems to be drained from the world, you have made your arrival known!”

  “Yes! It is true!” Another person joined the fray and stood at Nyame’s side. Though, calling him a person wasn’t quite right. It was an old, unkempt man who anyone would agree looked as if he was on death’s door. Not from old age, however. It was the great iron cross penetrating his cranium that would bring them to that grim hypothesis. He, too, threw up his arms, but he did not lower his head. He grinned eagerly at the heavenly orb like how a child may smile on Christmas day when discovering dozens of freshly wrapped gifts had been left for them overnight. Sickly blood dripped from his gruesome wound and fell down his cheeks like tears of joy. “It has become truth! The Advent is upon us! Finally, it has come! The Advent has come!”

  Nyame glared at the man. “And who are you to defile her coming with your presence?”

  The man still grinned his eager grin. He licked his lips in anticipation. “Simply another devoted acolyte and child of our mother Ymiris. She has given unto me the sweet gift of transformation. Transmutation! Transmogrification!” He pointed to the heavy cross that sunk into his skull. “Is there a better present than becoming the very aspect of your desire? Of your love? It is truly human, don’t you think?”

  The Head Pastoress pointed an accusatory finger at Blind Faith, her dress still wavering in ripples across her slim figure. “You are not one of us! One who has given into their desire and emotion is not fit to be a member of the Church. Nay, our Goddess has punished you for your wicked zealousness. She has left you with a permanent scar so that you may remember your sin well. Do not mistake your transformation with divine bestowal, base codger. You will do well to leave our mother’s birthing ground, or I shall make you leave.”

  The other members of the Church of the Goddess nodded in silent agreement.

  “I see… you do not yet know our mother’s true lineage! Her race and her species. Sad. Very sad, might I add. A tragedy. You have all given your lives and your love to our mother without even that simple knowledge. What a cruel world we live in! What a world! What a beautiful, chaotic mess of a world!” Blind Faith erupted into crazed laughter. He danced a little jig, kicking his heels together in rhythm to whatever unheard tune was playing in his mind. “And they call me Blind Faith! Why, that should be your name! What is your name? No, pardon me. I do not want to hear it. It would be better if I had never known it. No names matter, here, at the end of all things!”

  Nyame swung her arm in a slashing motion as if swinging a sword at the raving man. “You are a pitiful, disgraceful idiot! Your ravings will not sway our hearts. These are no end times, but a new beginning! Look around you. Ymiris has gathered us all in harmony to gaze upon her bountiful splendor. To understand our true nature. To finally attain peace and serenity. Your lies will not change that!”

  “Uhuhu~ And what if you are wrong? What if that very notion is the opposite? Slantwise? Oh, how I can’t wait for the grand reveal! It is so close, yet so far…! This is no meeting for peace! These are not common people, simpleton. These are vagrants, do-badders, haters, killers. What do you suppose THAT means? Hmm?”

  Nyame clenched her fists and jaw, then slowly released them. She realized that anger would get her nowhere. This is a test, she thought. The Goddess is testing me one last time to see if I am truly faithful to her great cause! There’s no doubt about it. It has to be that. She sent this wretched man here to test my limits. I will not fail you, my lady. My mother. I will cast aside this man for you.

  “Hmm?” Blind Faith goaded. His expression then turned from a questioning one to one of genuine surprise. “Have you accepted my words as truth? For they are, in truth, the truth. That is all that matters! The truth is absolute! Once you know it, there is no going back! Here it is, before you. I and her, her and I. The Goddess and this old man. Prepare yourselves! Truth is nigh! Here it comes, at last!”

  An explosion of blood and scattered innards bloomed outward from the scene. Some had seen Nyame take a single step towards the man, raising a single hand. A rush of wind. A moment’s passing. Then, there was nothing recognizable left of him. All besides the great iron cross, of course. Blind Faith had become emotionless red pudding on the ground. Scattered about it were chunks of flesh and bone, hair and fingers, spit and mucous. The man was no more. A great deal of the blood, too, covered half of the hovering cocoon, painting it just as an artist paints a mute white sketch to give it life and, in turn, pour into it his love and passion.

  Nyame stood before the half-painted mass in her bloodsoaked dress. She turned with open arms to her faithful congregation, who in reply both clapped and prayed with kind smiles.

  “Wha?”

  “How…?”

  “Huh?”

  The cavaliers, about a dozen feet away, looked at the mess with confusion and building fury.

  “Men!” Reginald spat. “Apprehend that woman!” He turned to Nyame. She was standing with open arms before the flower bud now, gazing upwards at it just as Blind Faith had done just minutes before. “You are charged with the sudden murder of an innocent man! Kneel! You shall be tried before the king of Altruin and his people!”

  An otherworldly chime struck the land and its current residents like a colossal hammer. They all let out a scream of agony. The ringing felt as if it tore the gray matter in their skulls to shreds. Their heads burned with an aching pain.

  “W-What is…?”

  “It’s opening!”

  Rook stared at the splattered flower in horror. Its petals were coming undone, unraveling in a graceful, fluid motion like a dancing ballerina. It was slow and deliberate, as if Blind Faith’s claim of a grand reveal was not entirely metaphorical.

  “Steady, men.” The Reville commander, his arm outstretched, gave his order in the same stern tone. His hand, too, outstretched into a five-point star as if he were pushing the men away from their consoles. He stared through the milky clear window of the airship, his pupils trained on the blooming flower. There really was something inside. He couldn’t see all of it yet, though. But there was definitely something. A creature? A person? It was hard to make it out from that distance. The endlessly spinning and whirring turbines helped to concentrate on his timing. If he waited too long, it could mean the end of him and his men. Perhaps even the end of Reville, and the other cities too. Perhaps the end of the world. He really had no other way of knowing. What he did know for certain is that he would be instrumental in putting a stop to any wicked deed it desired, if it did desire such a thing.

  Thus, the flower’s petals stretched outward in all directions and fell like feathers upon the whitening earth. A light bell reverberated for each that did, and the one who had spent millennia cocooned within was laid bare for all to see.

  ‘Beautiful’ was the word that welled up inside those who looked upon her majesty. The Goddess lived up to her name, as well as her other name: the Godbeast. Though this form was intrinsically more human than whatever form she had taken long, long ago in the far reaches of the void, it still kept many features that were inhuman as well. Parts of her resembled the fur of a white moth, insectile and soft. Other parts were simply angelic; her many wings sprouting forth from her back gave her form a heavenly extravagance unseen in any other living creature. Her eyes were closed. Her many wispy, black eyelashes curled and pressed to her temples, giving her face a feeling of purity and simplicity. Her mouth, also closed, was a series of jagged lines tightened into a blissful smile. Apart from the whiteness of her fur and wings, her body glowed with a myriad of alluring colors and shapes. Her third eye sitting on her forehead, also closed, was inlaid in a black oval. Two appendages extended from the sides of her head and formed a ring over her like a sideways halo. Her hips and back were wrapped in a similar fur, likely part of her body and not clothing, that swathed around her not unlike Venza’s wispy black cloak. Her hair was fluffy and white like snow, and came down in two gatherings across her chest. Her face was purely pallid, touched only by the black surrounding her three eyes and her crooked mouth. She shined and glimmered as brightly as a star, not begging but demanding to be gazed at with both reverence and love.

  “Goddess… you are so incredibly beautiful…! I am not worthy to be standing here before you. You are too bright for words. Too amazing for basic pleasantries. I am not worthy. We are not worthy!” Nyame and her faithful fell to the ground and pressed their foreheads into it. She heaved with an electrifying mixture of emotion which she tried to contain, but it was all too much. She started to sweat, clear liquid coating her face. Her light blond hair fell from her rising back and into the nook of her neck and shoulder. She stared holes into the dirt underneath her, excitement taking over her thoughts.

  Ymiris continued to float above the cast floral shell. She was eerily quiet. Only the hum of magic singeing the empty space filled the air.

  “Please, Goddess Ymiris. Bless us with your wonderful words and songs. Let us hear you speak. Please, speak unto us and deliver us from our human folly. We wish only to understand you and serve you to the best of our ability. That is all we ask, selfish as it is.”

  The Goddess then opened her two lower eyes, revealing their inner blackness. They were abyssal and dark, without a single speck of light within them. The light gracing the Outlands seemed to dim as if the simple act of raising her eyelids had devoured it. She tilted her head to look upon the bowed neck of Nyame.

  Nyame shuddered from the gaze. It felt like a truck had been dropped on her curved back, breaking every bone in her body.

  Ymiris then spoke unto her and everyone. Her mouth did not open. Her voice was indescribable. “Thy blood runs cold. Why do you fear me so? Raise thy head and study thy maker well. It is a privilege given only to spawn of I.”

  Nyame and the others did as they were told. They looked into Ymiris’s black eyes. Into the void. Past the light and into the cold darkness of null. Her fears were given wings. They flew from her body and left her weightless in the midst of her mother and god.

  “Be not afraid, my children. I am here to mend thy woes. I will save you from yourselves.”

  Nyame nearly burst into tears. She wiped her bloody hands onto the unstained portion of her dress, all without tearing her sight away from the Goddess for even a second.

  “Come to me, sweet lamb o’ mine. Receive thy blessing.”

  The Pastoress struggled to stand. Her legs were wobbly and unwieldy, yet she managed it all the same. She took a few teetering steps toward Ymiris.

  “Before you are granted a new purpose, thou must absolve thy sins. Confess your inherent weakness, and I shall grant thee thy blessing in full.”

  “Yes, Goddess.” The same twisted, zealous smile crept over her face. “I love the faith more than anything in the world. With love, so too come feelings hard to describe. There are times, as now, when I am tested beyond imagination. The ravenous fire that burns within me urges me to take you in selfish desire. But a mere human cannot hope to be accepted in that way. Please, forgive me! My love, from this day, is purely out of faith. Please excuse my wandering gaze, for the urge tries to strike down my true wish even now. I want nothing more than to serve you. This, I promise.”

  “Then…” Ymiris intoned.

  “Halt!” A yell came from a short distance away. It was Knight Captain Reginald. “This woman is wanted for the crime of murdering… that man there.” He pointed his lance at the pile of blood and intestines that any ordinary person would struggle to call a ‘man’. “We have yet to identify him. Such a task may be a tad difficult, given the circumstances. However, I beseech the same of you. Identify yourself. Make it known that you are before the might of many supporting factions. If you wish for peace, make it clear. If not, then we have all been ordered to eradicate any force that means to bring harm to this land. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” His mustachioed lip quivered.

  The other cavaliers from Altriun did not carry the same fervent dedication to their roles as serving knights quite like Reginald did. Sure, he had been shocked at Ymiris’s sudden emergence at first. Now, though, all that mattered was bringing everything to a close for his beloved city and king despite the same old hunger clawing at his aching stomach.

  Ymiris didn’t turn her head, but Reginald immediately felt her hidden pupils upon him. All at once, she truly emanated an aura of superiority. A feeling of godhood. She looked upon the Altruin captain much like how a human would look upon a single solitary ant. Except, Reginald felt as though whatever this creature was, it was far from human in both its ideals and appearance. Some people, when walking down the street and looking down at their feet, would dodge any passing bugs on the way to their destination. Reginald would know, he was one of them. He abhorred killing to any degree if it could be avoided. There just wasn’t any sense in it. The world needed to make sense, after all. How could it not? He couldn’t even imagine living in a senseless, immoral world. It felt wrong to him. Such a thing only bolstered his worldview, while at the same time, it was the only thing that he deeply feared. That and this strange being’s arrival.

  “Thou darest speak out of turn? A child must know their place when brought forth to their mother. My authority is reality.”

  “I simply ask you to tell us who you are. Is that a problem?”

  Ymiris tilted her head to the side as if she were debating whether to eat the armored cavalier and his small company. Finally, she raised her head fully and gazed upon the large crowd there to welcome her. Or, perhaps, they were there to do the exact opposite. She marveled at the prowess of her children, taking long passing glances at the mercenaries, the pilgrims, the Church members, the airship, and the gatherings of knights. She lightly puffed out her chest and raised her four-fingered insectile arms upward. From her eyes, her black gemstone-like fingers rested upon the perfect blue sky. The world was in her hands.

  “As much as I loathe this ruffian who calls himself a knight, I agree with him somewhat, Goddess Ymiris,” Nyame relayed her thoughts. “I believe many are confused. I believe that you should elucidate them on your coming and make yourself truly known to all of your future servants.”

  Ymiris’s pupils darted to Nyame, then back to the crudely arranged army before her. She nodded. With a booming, elegant voice, she said, “Children o’ mine, the time hath come. In your tongue, I am Ymiris. I am also known as Yanamura or the Godbeast, or perhaps the Goddess. It is truly I. Long did I sleep beneath the planet’s crust. Long did I hunger and starve as my darling ones grew. Look at you now. Bestowed intelligence is a wonder in a wonderless world. And now is the time of Advent. Now is when I claim the spoils of my labor, as do you all. You have proven to be quite the capable group of animals. You have achieved much with the wondrous garden I had given. And now, while the fruit is juicy and ripe for the taking, I will indulge myself.” She turned her head to Reginald of Altruin once more.

  Reginald froze at once, then regained his fervency and pointed his lance at the Goddess like a witness fingering a suspect. “You dare disgrace the name of our fallen Goddess with your wicked words!? Not only that, but you also fail to help punish this woman, your faithful, for her crime of murder? Have you no shame?”

  The void of Ymiris’s eyes pulled at his soul. She continued, her voice booming still. A faint harp could be heard bringing her words to a heart-moving crescendo. “I am the archon unbound. The archon of gluttony. The bringer of life. The bringer of death. Tranquility in and of itself. Bathe in my light. Bathe in my dark. Show me your fears so I may strip you of them. Thou need not fear. Thou need not be tense. I shall show thee pain and strife, and shall show thee love and life. Be not afraid.”

  From what little Rook could gather, the situation he and Lumi were in was of mortal peril. It was far from anything they had encountered before. Even the Imperium and the raging axe-wielding behemoth known also as Graves were nothing compared to this. He knew that if they stayed any longer, they would both likely perish. They would die lonely deaths, and they would be forgotten. He shook the thought from his mind. He grabbed Lumi’s hand tightly and they ran as fast as they could.

  The last thing he saw before breaking out into a mad sprint in the opposite direction was a golden shimmer of light, almost like the shiny end of a spear. He heard cries. He heard a body fall. Heavy armor clanged. A horse whinnied and entered a panicked frenzy. Then, nothing. Nothing but him and Lumi’s rushed footfalls leaving their temporary mark in the mud they crossed. A devil on his shoulder told him to look back, just for a moment, but he knocked it away. Curiosity has no place on a battlefield, he thought.

  Then, when he felt that they were far enough, they stopped on a craggy hillside. They made sure that they were both alright, then finally looked back. What they saw made Rook curse himself for the rest of his natural life. Curse himself for eventually giving in to the devil on his shoulder.

  It was hell. It was the apocalypse. Calamity. The sky had split in two and was drenched blood-red. A black-winged angel flew up and lingered amidst a broken, smoldering landscape torn apart by crimson lightning and fiery vortexes. It was the end. The end of time. The end of everything.