Chapter 1: Prologue: False Gods

Neir's thoughts scattered into oblivion, vision turning black as his body bounced across void corroded earth stiffly. In an instant. An instant was all it took for them to be overpowered to this degree.

There was no hope, was there...?

He forced light back into his glazing eyes, twisting his body and rooting his feet onto the ground.

'Not yet. Now's not the time for doubt, you bastard!' Neir thought, skidding to a halt, gritting his blood-stained teeth. His knees buckled, strained, and he fell. "Dammit. My old bones aren't meant for this..."

Still, he got up, gaze traveling towards the despondent battleground. Lant seemed to be the first to recover. The Dragon God's tiny, humanoid figure was suffused in the brilliant silver light of his ancient soul, contrasting greatly with the Voidlord's giant jet-black miasmic body.

Lant fired precise bolts of energy at the monster, presumably targeting its core. Neir spat out a few curses. That arrogant idiot. He didn't heed his advice in the end, huh?

If he doesn't reign in that abysmal ego, this battle would be lost.

Knowing this, he burned his essence — the Aeon marking Neir's right as a lesser god — fusing it into his body. A burst of energy was instilled throughout his muscles, and his thoughts became clearer.

Up ahead, Sinnadt had blasted into the air shooting waves of amethyst light at the Voidlord, partly binding its ethereal body. Neir grinned. He really was at his peak.

Lifting a hand, he shielded himself from the debris the Voidlord's tentacle-like appendages sent flying by lashing into the ground.

The creature's body was starting to take shape as it crossed the bridge from Nullpoint to the physical realm. It vaguely resembled an ink-black corcus fish — as it had a cylindrical base for a body with thick, writhing tendrils growing out of it. The Voidlord had countless beady red eyes encompassing its sky-devouring body, too. However, if one observed closely, you'd notice these eye-like organs were cloudy and unblinking... they were obviously not meant for sight.

Body healed enough, Neir felt inward, sensing how much magical energy was stored within his core.

"...That's unfortunate," he mumbled, wincing slightly. About two-thirds of the mana in his core was consumed in the attempt to block the Voidlord's lethal strike. "Kasmirea, be a dear and lend me a little of your mana..."

Neir felt his bond with the Spirit Queen strain. If it wasn't for her focusing purely on their little miracle, he was sure she'd have smacked him lopsided for that joke.

"Nevermind," he chimed, calling forth a few wisps of mana into his fingers and drawing a magic circle in the air. It was an annoying way of spellcasting, but it was also very energy efficient. Once the complex matrix was drawn, he fused aether and mana into it while mentally reciting the spell formula in his mind.

The circle buzzed to life with crimson sparks and violet arcs of energy, as if pleading for him to release the powerful storm churning within its sigils.

But he didn't.

Instead, Neir let his scrutinizing gaze study the battlefield as his fingers deftly sketched more magicircles in the air. Black dust and ash clouded most of his vision, so he had to use other means to monitor the fight — observing and predicting the changes in the spatial and temporal fields of the surrounding area, or 'Aethersense' as it was commonly referred to.

A purple-black aura suffused his body, connecting him to reality at a fundamental level. It was a strange feeling, like swimming in a sea with giant waves that could violently toss you ashore or fling you to the other side of the world in an instant. A feeling that a man who was once mortal could never get used to.

That, however, did not mean Neir's mastery of navigating and studying the infinitely changing turbulence of aetherspace was flawed. He glanced toward the Voidlord — or at least the eerily empty part of aetherspace representing the creature's position — then at his companions.

The way aether reacted to different gods was unique, for instance: it whirled near the Dragon God never swirling too close, as if afraid of touching him. And with Nyrith — the Pathfinder — the 'spatial' aspect of aether would always cling around his eyes and feet.

But where were Harki and Dalse? Are they already... No time. He snapped back to normal reality, already grasping at what stage the battle was.

Neir clapped his hands together, intertwining his fingers; his robes fluttering as his essence spilled out of his body fusing into the magicircles.

"Scatter!" he yelled, devastating bolts of space-tearing energy speeding towards the Voidlord almost instantaneously. The bolts of crimson-violet energy wrapped around the beast as though it were murderous serpents, binding its body.

Just as predicted, the creature seemed to struggle with devouring spatial distortions; giving them more than enough time to evoke his killer strategy.

Without him having to tell her, Kasmirea began her role. Using the aether within Neir's core and the mana-infused Aeon making up her body, she cast the spell "World Binder."

Magical energy of all affinities poured from Neir's body, reforming the decayed space around the Voidlord. The earth regained its normal color and texture from which tall trees and grassy stocks grew instantaneously, as the surrounding area temporarily healed from void corrosion.

Off the corner of his eyes, Neir noticed Lant had shapeshifted into his original form; an enormous white-scaled dragon that dwarfed even the Voidlord. His chest rose as he built up his dragon breath, then he released it all.

Everything bleached white for a moment, the extreme light that was a result of the most powerful attack in Lant's arsenal searing Neir's eyes, blinding him.

The sound of a world dying came next. Neir felt the ground upturn beneath his feet, shockwaves caused by the collision sending him flying and flipping through the air maladroitly.

Neir's core ached — cracking — as he drained it of the last of his mana and aether into his body, which was aging rapidly the more he burned essence to repair his rapturing organs and tearing muscles.

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Darkness encroached his mind, and there was no fighting it. No... He didn't want to fight it, for it brought him a great sense of peace. Unfortunately, that bliss was torn asunder as his body met earth yet again, tumbling rigidly to a halt.

He groaned, coughing out a mouthful of blood. "...That piece of shit. He could've warned us."

"You should have reacted faster," Kasmirea said quietly, a hand to her tiny waist, gaze far ahead. To where the Voidlord was. "It's death is all but certain..."

Neir could vaguely feel and perceive his teacher's presence on his chest. As her body was simply a minuscule culmination of mana molded into the figure of a slender woman only a few inches tall, she carried no weight.

"You did a splendid job," she finished, relaxing, her endearment for him flowing towards him like a flood through their bond despite her chilly attitude. "The only question left to answer is: will you live to see it through?"

Neir took in a deep breath, his ears ringing; eyes bleeding. It hurt. His entire body erupted with acute pains that cut through his will as if it was telling him — forcing him — to accept demise.

"Is that a question you should be asking me, Kas?" he said, blinking against the crimson brightness filling his vision. "Just give me a moment...or two."

"Ah. How silly of me to worry. You're as tough as they come, aren't you?" Kasmirea said rather sarcastically, her body becoming formless as it trickled into his body; to the space she occupied in his core. She donated a little mana to him, subtly urging him to accept it without fuss. "I'm taking a nap, don't bother me."

Clinching his teeth tightly, Neir used the mana to strengthen his collapsing body, his vision clearing slightly. "You didn't have to”  — he felt her draining him of the invigorating burst in power — "Kidding! Kidding! So moody..."

He stood swaying in the gentle breeze before taking a step forward — away from the dying battle. His part was finished. He didn't feel like indulging in the spoils of war with the surviving Greater Gods, not that they would care. To them, his part as a pawn was finished for now.

'Forgetting that,' Neir thought, appraising his body's condition. 'Physically...everything’s broken... On the arcane side of things, it's all depleted.'

Annoying. It'd take at least three months to recover enough to fend off a single voidling’s assault. And maybe an entire year to be in peak condition again. And yet, in spite of this obvious vulnerability, he smiled. He helped destroy a Voidlord, after all. Things were finally...

Chills surged down Neir's spine, and his head snapped back to where the gods were. There, a dark vortex seemed to churn apart reality. He mistook the anomaly for void corrosion for a brief moment, but that wasn't it. He squinted, damaged though they were, nothing circumferencing the bounds of magical science could fool his eyes.

That was Intent. The principal that made up the foundation of spellcasting.

"Run!" Kasmirea's terror-stricken voice resonated in his mind.

"...Run?" Neir echoed, gulping down the pool of blood and saliva in his mouth. "Master...you of all people should understand why we're still alive."

The reason was quite simple. Distance... Well, that wasn't the only reason. But Neir was too terrified to ponder on the technicalities.

"They're dead. All of them. The Final Pantheon… Ho-, how…"

Neir stopped listening to Kasmirea's rambling, forcefully ejecting her out of his core. "It doesn't matter."

"Wha-, what?" Kasmirea asked, twirling around his head frantically. He knew she could feel it. As if enjoying their despair, the being responsible for the Pantheon's annihilation was slowly focusing on Neir's death. Quite literally willing him out of existence.

"The deaths of those arrogant fools," he continued with a hint of melancholy in his tone, staring into the distance, his body shattering into tiny black specks. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of a tall, regal figure towering amidst the churning space. "We were destined for damnation at that thing's hands since the beginning, weren’t we, Master?” He choked on his words. “Ah…How long have we wondered if the 'Creator' existed? The being who crafted this world from nothing?"

Kasmirea listened attentively, clearly respecting his final words despite her strong opinions on the topic.

"It's funny..." his voice disappeared as his throat and mouth corroded away, nevertheless, through their bond, his master knew what he wanted to say: "...that during the heated hours of our long debates, we've never stopped to think if a being opposite to God Infinite existed."

Neir consciousness started to disappear. He wasn't afraid of death, for the shards making up his reason to live had already broken off from his 'essence.'

Except for one.

Kasmirea. His mentor. Of all the loved ones he'd lost in this long war, she stuck to him until the bitter end. The reason for that was not luck nor was it the Spirit Queen's tenacity to survive. No... The reason was the fact she was the core of Wrudalin. Even the voidborn didn't want her dead.

Somehow, as pathetic as it was, he found solace in that. In a way, he'd continue living through her perpetually.

‘Don't worry about me,’ Neir felt her hold on to the last bits of his fading soul. ‘I'll find something to do, rest assured...I have an eternity to ponder, after all.’

Death, it was a peaceful thing… Why… Why did he reject it so? 

He didn’t get to answer the sudden question, an eternity of nothing claiming his consciousness.

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