Author's Preface
What do you imagine when you see a beautiful world?
Did the sight of the crashing waves move you?
Did the scent of blooming lilies return you to better days?
What is your purpose?
Where are you going?
What is your future?
History was the product of power. Long ago, man and shura alike walked under the same sun, enjoying the blessings of heaven. Having accepted the will of the Common Law , they lived without fear. The force of the elements, knowledge of good and evil, spring genesis, fertile deaths. They lived life driven only by power.
In the beginning, Man knew God, and proclaimed it good.
Skadhi Bhattacharya, once known only as Vihaan , was repulsed by such a world; a world in which man returned to God. People were too constricted by their sins, he thought. They lack the forward-thinking and steadfast nature to truly accomplish anything. If man knew better, he’d abandon his shame, rejecting the terror of God.
Common Law of the Old World was worthless to him. The cycles of black and white, good and evil, human and shura; it was all but a farcical performance. A play of jesters destined to end in failure. The happiness granted by God was a false allure. Let this world’s law, its Twilight, be replaced with Urr’s law, or rather, Skadhi’s law.
If he could not hold this world in his grasp, his vision, then it was better off dead.
“Ha…How tiresome.”
None of this would have been possible alone. His citizens were great assets indeed, and his position as an apostle played a great part in his success. He carried a rather stringent, nearly nonexistent relationship with his master, yet it was a relationship all the same—A bond that agitated his wounded soul.
He loved people more than anyone else, yet distrusted them to the highest magnitude. Bonds were fragile things, really. They were insincere, cruel, fickle, and liable to change at any time. That was the nature of black and white, human and shura. Under this sickening realm of Twilight, Skadhi could not bring himself to love anyone, not even his own family.
He didn’t need them. He’d never need them. Not as long as the Common Law remains in effect.
The human invaders were the least of his concerns. Present or not, his plan had not changed. He would devour the cosmos in his own color until its canvas was covered in a deep, coral blue.
Finally, then, he could be alone. All alone, with nothing but himself.
All within an isolated universe: Skadhi Bhattacharya.
Today was not the beginning, but one of many beginnings. First, he’d eliminate the humans infesting his territory (body), then spread his influence across the cosmos. Only then could he accumulate the authority necessary to challenge and slay his master: Belial, the Fourth Great Evil.
——————
“...”
Skadhi Bhattacharya rose from his chalky-white throne, a yawn escaping his lips.
“A nap, hm?”
He checked his wrist watch. 11:43AM. Still early in the final act. According to his memory, roughly half a day has passed since his stunt in Yana. From an analytical standpoint, one could argue that the mass brainwashing was an act of psychological warfare, a means of lowering enemy morale.
But Skadhi knew that was bullshit.
What he wanted more than anything else was to torment his sworn enemy—the man he loved and despised more than anyone else—Derrick Foster.
Derrick was a man of many bonds. To his brother, he was a kind young man misunderstood by his peers. To his house, he was a vile murderer. To his father, he was a lost, broken soul in desperate need of healing. They were all true in their own right. He was indeed a kind man, a murderer, and a lost soul.
He refused to accept a single path of his own. He was not kind. He was no murderer. He was not lost. The bonds he clung to had become fetters meant to chain him.
Even so…this young man—this childish, insufferable, incorrigible man—continued to move forward, bearing the weight of indecisiveness.
Skadhi didn’t mind laziness, but he surely hated incompetence; and Derrick was the very definition of incompetent.
A strange mixture of disgust and entertainment permeated Skadhi’s being. He adjusted his suit before heading towards the underground high-speed railway. It was a private service accessible only to the Supreme President, allowing for near-instantaneous travel between the Holy Land and District Two, the Oracle Foundation .
The Oracle Foundation was an artificial intelligence analytics facility responsible for developing data-integration technology. Their technology could be found all across the planet, with less than 0.1% of the planet being Oracle-free. No one, not even a single person, could escape Skadhi’s watchful gaze.
He walked to the surveillance building, greeting the busy employees with a carefree smile.
“Knock knock!” He said, before walking into central command. “What’s the situation, Kirely?”
Defense Specialist Adam Kirely, a man with wavy brown hair and large, round eyes, stood at attention. “Sir! We are currently engaged with human forces at Grausheim.”
“I see, and what of their numbers?”
“Roughly 4500, sir! Despite their minuscule numbers, special-class war threats have prevented a clean victory.”
“Special-class, huh? I guess those two are definitely on that level.”
“There are three, sir.”
Skadhi’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh? Pray tell, Kirely. Actually, no. You talk too much when given orders like that. Just send me their diagnostics.”
“Ah…” Kirely seemed a tad hurt by the comment, but chose to maintain professionalism.
Skadhi appeared on a large holographic map of the battlefield, spotting two faint dots among the human forces. “Using my genius level intuition, I can assume that these are the commanding officers of the remaining human forces. Not quite as strong as those three special-class war threats, but certainly an issue.”
“Yes, sir. They are Sahyat of the Wisterian Army and Athene Noctua of the Divine Generals.”
Skadhi laughed at Kirely’s informative reply. “Divine Generals?! Now that’s pretty funny! No wonder we’ve been having so much trouble!”
“Our odds of success are estimated at 72%”
“And if we get rid of those commanding officers?”
“95%”
Skadhi’s calm, lackadaisical smile twisted into a horrifying grin, his eyes sharp like daggers. “Well, it seems our course of action is obvious, right? It’s time to initiate the V.E.L.s.”
Kirely’s expression dropped. “Sir…we lack the administrative authority to request such a weapon.”
“Yeah? Well I do.”
“...” For a moment, Kirely’s throat tightened shut with fear. “Are…Are you sure you want to authorize the use of the V.E.L.s once more? There is no telling how its destructive capacity will affect the planet. Grausheim may not be hospitable for the next thousand years.”
“Is that an issue?”
“...”
“Remember, this land is not our final resting place. Once the human menace has been dealt with, we will begin extraterrestrial expansion. First the solar system, then the galaxy, then the universe. We must not stop here. We cannot stop here. The super-organism will be preserved. Now contact the Minister of Defense.”
“Yes sir…” With a down-turned expression, Kirely accepted the man’s request.
——————
[1:38PM]
It’s been two hours since the final advance was initiated. I, alongside Keresaspa and Derrick, fought our way through hordes of shura soldiers, eventually arriving in District 7— Astra . The urbanization of this district far surpassed anything we witnessed beforehand. Massive skyscrapers pierced the heavens. Dazzling lights seemed to dance at every turn.
The foreign architecture was awe-inspiring, yet played to its greatest military strengths. Its layout was too elaborate, too strange, obtuse, and unintuitive that any efficient means of attack was impossible. Not only this, but our enemy knew this city, their territory, well. Even with their lacking physical strength, they managed to completely outpace us.
Right now, we were resting in a run-down apartment, its current occupant vacant.
“This is a waste of time,” said Keresaspa with an irritated expression. “If we cannot attack them individually, then let us do battle with the city itself. Is such a solution not obvious?”
I replied. “That would be even more of a time-waster. There are simply too many of them in places we don’t even know exist. Simply attacking everything at random will make it harder for advancing forces to navigate north, too. It’s better that we ignore them and move on.”
That’s right. It’s not like mass destruction was our objective. We were sent away to assassinate one man and one man alone—Skadhi Bhattacharya. Everything else was secondary.
And yet, Keresaspa refused. “My, how boring. How utterly, inanely boring! I thought you a better warrior than this, young Ereth. Do you not wish to test our might against our adversary?”
“Not necessarily, no.”
She sighed, clearly disappointed with my response. “Then I will go alone. Do as you will.”
As she got up to leave the room, Derrick, with a panicked expression, grabbed her wrist. “Keresaspa, wait!”
“...”
“Just hear Ereth out, okay? There’s no reason for you to do this all alone!”
“...Who do you think you’re touching?”
“Keresaspa…?”
With the flick of a wrist, Derrick was sent flying across the room.
“It seems we have some misconceptions about our relationship, so let me make things clear: You do not rule me. Wisteria does not rule me. The king does not rule me. I am a warrior and nothing else. Battle is my only imperative. Do not presume to know me because of our meager time together. Should the moment arise, I will crush this world beneath my feet, for I am the Great Warrior of the Haoma people.”
My body froze from her cold words. I had never seen this side of Keresaspa, a side so isolated and cruel. Derrick must have surely felt the same way. And yet, he rose from the floor and met her gaze.
“That’s right. I don’t rule you or anything. Nobody does. You’re volatile, inconsiderate, closed-minded, rude, and pretty much devoid of anything resembling a well-adjusted person. However, you’re still my comrade, my ally, and I won’t let you put the lives of innocent people on the line!”
“...”
“Whether you like it or not, there are countless humans fighting back in Grausheim with everything they have, knowing they will die at any moment. Go ahead and fight to your hearts content. None of us really care, but don’t go dragging down everyone else!”
“And what if I do?”
“Then I’ll stop you.”
Keresaspa gave a quizzical expression. “...Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
A long, drawn out silence hung in the air, neither side backing down. Keresaspa was stalwart in her passion for violence, just as Derrick was in his justice. Honestly, if not for my preconceived notions about Derrick, I would have thought these two formidable foes were of equal strength and vigor.
“Pfft-” A small puff of air escaped Keresaspa's mouth, before erupting into amused laughter. “Hilarious! You never fail to surprise me, young Derrick. To think that you, the weakest of the Problem Children, would stand up to me so defiantly! Perhaps you are more of a warrior than I thought.”
“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Of the highest order! You have impressed me quite a bit today, so I will consider your request, but only this once. Know that you will not get an opportunity like this again. Do cherish it well.”
“So you’ll come with us? Seriously?”
“Yes, for the time being.”
“What a relief…” Derrick let out an exhausted sigh. “But can I ask for one last favor? It’s a small thing, I promise.”
“You push your luck, but for now I will allow it. What do you want, young Derrick?”
“Would you please drop the ‘young’ title? It’s seriously embarrassing.”
“Prove yourself in battle, and perhaps I will consider the request.”
“What a cruel thing to say!”
___
All's well that ends well, as they say.
Keresaspa’s mood was lifted, if only for a moment, and Derrick seemed to be gaining confidence. And yet, something about this situation was wrong, I was wrong.
This made three separate occasions in which I was powerless, a detached spectator incapable of contributing anything.
The first was during the Co-Examination, in which Atreides successfully defused the situation with wit and a clever tongue. The second was Derrick and Skadhi. I couldn’t do anything to quell Derrick’s rage, nor could I aid him in battle. Finally, my third blunder happened just five minutes ago. I remained there, sitting in the corner, helpless as Derrick stood up Keresaspa despite his physical weakness.
Was I jealous of them? No, it was nothing like that. I admired my comrades far too much for that.
It was an internal weakness.
A defect.
A failure.
Everytime I was faced with a difficult situation, I simply relied on others to support me, without ever taking agency.
Always leaving my problems to others.
Always relying on others.
It was pathetic.
Cht- Cht-
Cht- Cht-
“...?”
A metallic noise rang below me. It was like clashing, no, trembling metal. Something resembling a keychain.
I looked down at the broken Sword of Promised Victory, its hilt quivering ever-so-slightly, with a dim grey light emanating from its center.
Divine Constructs required a pact between themselves and a master to properly function. This psycho-spiritual link allowed for non-physical communication, such as telepathy or mind-reading. The dull light, likely an expression of its [Resonance] ability, wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, at least by itself.
What intrigued me was the fact that it was the first time the blade directly responded to my thoughts without any express permission.
I had made numerous attempts at communication in the past, synchronizing my thoughts with the relic, but I never received a response. Not even a vague message or symbol. Nothing.
What made today different from all the others? Why was it responding now, of all times, of all places?
“...Hello?” I said, voice unsteady with confusion.
Cht- Cht-
Cht- Cht-
Cht- Cht-
Huh. Nothing. Just the same jittering over and over. Was it not capable of telepathy, or was it merely unable at the moment? Well, there’s nothing I can do about it right now. It's best I stay focused on the mission at hand.