Long Ago.
"Honey, you've never done this before—why now?" She asked, stirring a pot over the fire.
"Yeah, Dad!" the two young children chimed in, their voices light and squeaky, eyes wide with innocent joy. "You always stay with us, even after work!"
E.K. let out a deep sigh, a hint of a smile in his eyes. "Am I not allowed to celebrate just this once?" He walked over to his wife, playfully pinching her nose. "We finally won the war."
Turning to his children, he crouched down to their level, his voice warm. "I beat those Hangeleans, didn't I? So now, you can play without a worry in the world."
The children giggled. "Yeah, that's true, Mom!"
She chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, alright." She walked up to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Be careful," she whispered.
"Of course." E.K. hugged his children tightly, pulling them close. "I'll see you all tomorrow, alright?"
They nodded, and with a final wave, he donned his coat and stepped outside, feeling the cold raindrops as he dashed towards the city. Passing the "Welcome to Mesir" sign, he squinted as a brilliant flash of light suddenly appeared, blinding him. The light radiated warmth, a deep calm that filled him—until he stumbled right into a tree, landing face-first in the mud.
"Ah, damn!"
A familiar laugh echoed nearby, loud and infectious. E.K. rolled over to see his friend Ljoran, clutching his stomach, doubled over with laughter.
"There's only one man with such a vile laugh," E.K. grinned, getting up and, without a second thought, rubbed his muddy face against Ljoran's shirt.
Ljoran jerked back, feigning outrage. "Hey! This shirt is new!"
Now it was E.K.'s turn to laugh. "Sucks, doesn't it?"
Ljoran held a straight face. "Just like when you fell off your horse and almost got blown up by those mines during the battle of Merïen!" E.K. stopped laughing and became somewhat serious. They stared at each other for a second until they couldn't hold it in anymore. They burst out in laughter, loud and carefree, letting the rain wash over them.
After a few moments, Ljoran caught his breath, his laughter fading. "Ahh... So, what are you doing out here so late? I thought you'd be home with your family."
E.K. shrugged, glancing back toward his house. "Heading to the bar tonight."
Ljoran's jaw dropped in mock shock. "What? You? Going to drink?" He shook his head, laughing. "Mr. ______ Himself is finally going to break his dry spell? It's been, what, twenty years?"
E.K. smirked. "Yep, but we won the war. That calls for a drink, doesn't it?"
Ljoran clapped a hand on his shoulder. "That's the spirit, my friend! Can't wait to see the look on your face when you try some Gahali!" With a shared grin, they broke into a run toward the city center.
------
He opened his eyes, drifting weightlessly through The Threads—the invisible strands binding all things: beings, realms, every facet of existence. This was Aal's creation, the fundamental fabric, the thing that binds all that exists. Although he'd passed through here before, he'd never truly appreciated the beauty of it: emerald-green threads glowing with a strange, otherworldly light.
"These connect us all?" The words faded into the endless void, swallowed by the silence.
After a timeless moment spent marveling, he shook off his awe, snapping back to his mission.
"Kek must've thought it funny to send me through here instead of teleporting me directly," he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. "Fine. I'll handle it myself."
With a thought, he crossed the infinite expanse between the threads and Desolace's distant orb, materializing in an unfamiliar part of the realm. Before him stood a solitary tree, its bark rough and ancient, radiating a faint sense of life. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the coarse texture beneath his gloved hand.
"A beautiful tree, is it not?" a soft voice murmured.
E.K. pulled his hand back, his expression hardening. "I have no time for this," he replied tersely, scanning his surroundings. He extended his senses, searching for any trace of life. But Desolace stretched on infinitely, vast and silent; it was possible no one was within trillions of kilometers.
The quiet unsettled him. E.K. was unaccustomed to such stillness.
"Why not?" The voice drifted through the silence, soft yet invasive, accompanied by the ghostly sensation of fingers brushing across his cheek.
He froze. His breath hitched. "Stop it."
"Why?" The voice lingered, familiar in a way that twisted his chest, yet distant enough to feel unreal.
E.K.'s muscles tensed, his hand twitching towards his sword hilt before he forced himself to stop. The blade was too dangerous here, a threat not just to the world around him but to everything holding it together. Instead, he turned his frustration elsewhere, slamming his fist into the tree. The bark splintered under the force, and reality itself seemed to ripple, threads of existence shimmering like broken glass.
The sensation disappeared.
He stepped back, eyes locking onto the empty space where the tree had stood. It wasn't destroyed—it was erased. The void beyond stretched infinitely, silent and oppressive. It felt wrong. It felt like... absence.
"Damn it," he muttered, his voice thick with an emotion he refused to name. Raising his hand, he moved it in a slow, deliberate circle. The air shimmered as time rewound, weaving the tree and the world around it back together.
"This didn't happen," he whispered, the words hollow. With a sharp exhale, he willed the moment from his memory, burying it deep alongside countless others.
But as he turned and began to walk, the faintest echo trailed behind him, soft and almost inaudible.
"Don't go..."
E.K. quickened his pace, his jaw tight, his thoughts shutting the voice out. Or trying to.
-
E.K. had been walking for some time, his sharp eyes scanning the bizarre surroundings. Something about this place felt off, though he couldn't quite place why. Earlier, it had been an open expanse with a single tree in sight. Now, he found himself weaving through a dense forest, the trees towering unnaturally high and casting distorted shadows.
"What's this?" he murmured, halting as leaflets drifted down before him. Before they touched the ground, they vanished into thin air. His brow furrowed. Moments ago, the forest had seemed normal. Now, these weren't just trees—they were Deca Trees, their massive roots twisting unnaturally into the earth.
"Since when are Deca Trees here? They're supposed to be native to The Barren."
The thought barely finished when he felt it—a ripple in the fabric of space behind him. His instincts flared. In one seamless motion, he turned, fist clenched, before the intruder could fully materialize.
"Woh!" came the startled screech of something small and peculiar. It stumbled back, blinking in shock. "How? I hadn't even appeared yet, and you knew?"
E.K. regarded the creature with a hard, assessing gaze. Its strange form was unlike anything he'd seen recently, but its jittery movements and wide eyes betrayed no immediate threat. Slowly, he lowered his fist.
"Habit," he said curtly, his voice steady.
"Yeah, right," the creature replied in a squeaky tone, clearly unconvinced.
E.K. turned away without another glance and started to walk. "Begone, Deiianian," he called back, his voice sharp and dismissive.
The creature froze, startled again. "How do you know what I am?" it called after him.
E.K. didn't answer. He simply continued, his strides measured and unyielding. Behind him, the Deiianian hesitated before scurrying after, keeping its distance but watching him intently. It studied everything—his walk, his composure, the way his sharp eyes flickered across their surroundings.
After a long silence, the creature tried again. "So... what are you looking for?"
E.K. didn't respond, his focus elsewhere. The air around them had grown colder, the light dimming until the sky above turned an unnatural shade of dark. He pauses, his gaze lifting to the strange heavens.
"Strange," he murmurs to himself.
The Deiianian creeped closer, emboldened. "What is it?" it asked, eager to connect with this imposing stranger.
E.K. ignored the question and resumed walking.
The journey stretched on, the dense forest giving way to open terrain. The Deiianian, now visibly tired, struggles to keep up. Its short legs stumbled as they finally reached the edge of a river.
"How can you walk this far?" it gasped, doubling over and clutching its sides. "That was like... star distance!"
E.K. crouched by the riverbank, his sharp gaze fixed on the water. It shimmered with an unsettling purple hue, rippling unnaturally. "Why is the water purple?" he asked, his tone flat.
"I... I don't know," the Deiianian stammered between breaths. "I don't wander around much."
"Great." E.K. straightened and scanned the area before deciding to follow the river downstream.
"Hey, wait!" The Deiianian scrambled after him, still catching its breath. "So... where are you from in this infinite place?"
E.K. stopped abruptly, his voice cutting through the air like steel. "Stop asking."
The creature flinches, its wide eyes shrinking into itself. "Okay," it mutters, defeated.
The two walk on in silence, the river's strange purple glow their only companion in the growing dark.
---
Kek is lounging in the Nova chair, his gaze distant, as if searching for something long forgotten. The room around him hummed faintly, a reflection of his presence—responsive, alive, and subtly bending to his whims.
A soft clink of boots broke the silence. A custode, young-looking and hesitant, entered the room. "H-hello?" She stammered.
Kek's lips curled into a knowing smile before she even finished. "Hello to you too," he replied warmly, though his tone carried an undertone of ancient weight.
The custode froze, startled. "Oh... Sir. I didn't see you there." She saluted hurriedly, her cheeks flushing.
Kek waves a hand dismissively, leaning forward slightly. "No need for formality. But," he adds with mock seriousness, "you do know that custodes aren't permitted here. Only Cometa or higher, correct?"
The custode shifts uncomfortably, looking down at her hands. "Y-yes, Sir... I... um..." She cracked her knuckles nervously.
Kek chuckled, his voice like the ripple of an old melody. "So, tell me. What brings you here, little custode?"
"I..." She hesitated. "Someone asked me to grab something."
Kek's eyebrow arched. "Oh? Who?"
She hesitated again, the pause lingering just long enough to make Kek's smile falter. "Pyrta," she blurted out finally.
"Ah, Pyrta," Kek repeated thoughtfully, his expression softening into amusement. "And what did he ask you to fetch for him?"
"A... a snack."
Silence filled the room, stretching into something almost tangible.
"A snack," he echoed dryly, standing slowly. The custode's breath caught as he approached, his presence filling the room as though the air itself recognized his authority. He stopped inches from her and bent slightly, meeting her gaze head-on. Kek's robes shimmered faintly, catching her eye before she forced herself to look back at his face.
"So," he said, his voice quieter but sharper, "why would Pyrta, an angel, send you to retrieve a snack?" His fingers motioned toward her like pointing out an oddity in a painting.
The custode fidgeted, her voice trembling. "B-because he didn't want to pass you and risk... a conversation."
Kek blinked, his smile vanishing for the briefest moment. He straightened, sighing deeply. "I see," he said, almost to himself. "Avoiding me, is he? My own creation."
He snaps his finger, and the custode yelps as an armful of snacks materializes in her grasp. Kek turned away, returning to the Nova chair with an exaggerated air of indifference. "Tell Pyrta," he says, sinking back into his seat, "that his dear father says hello. And remind him that he would be nothing without me."
She nods quickly, saluting again before scurrying away.
Left alone, Kek exhales a long, tired breath. "How dare he not want to talk to me?" he muttered, his gaze unfocused as he stared into the unseen distance. The hum of the room dimmed slightly, mirroring his mood.
---
"Come on, man. Can you at least carry me on your back or something?" the Deiianian begged, panting as he struggled to keep up. He wasn't used to walking this far, let alone for so long.
"No," E.K. said, his tone flat and commanding, not even sparing him a glance.
"Please?" The Deiianian was practically on the verge of passing out, his clawed hands clutching his knees as he stumbled.
"No." Still as cold and unyielding as ever.
"Ah, fuck off, man," the Deiianian muttered, letting a hint of his frustration and true nature slip through.
E.K. stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned, his piercing purple gaze locking onto the Deiianian's four lizard-like eyes. There was an eerie stillness to him, a weight in the air that made the Deiianian regret his words.
"Oh, the little Deiianian has a big mouth? How... intriguing," E.K. said, his voice like a blade cutting through the tension. "Maybe you shouldn't have followed me." His harsh tone silenced any potential retort.
The Deiianian sighed, his posture slumping. "Look, man, it's just... it's lonely here. Ever since those three guys showed up, everyone's too scared to leave their hiding spots. And even before they came, it's not exactly easy to find anyone willing to hang out with my kind."
E.K.'s eyes narrowed slightly, the glow in his gaze intensifying. "Those three?" His voice was sharp, demanding clarity.
The Deiianian nodded quickly. "Yeah. They attack anyone on sight, and a lot of beings here can't teleport fast enough, so... they can't even run."
E.K. processed the information in silence, his expression unreadable. The Deiianian hesitated before continuing. "Oh... so you're not from here, huh?"
"No," E.K. replied, curt and detached.
"That makes sense, otherwise you would show some fear." the Deiianian squeaked nervously, fidgeting with his claws.
"I don't fear." E.K. said, absolutely serious and with no doubt in his tone, then he abruptly stepped to the side, his movement so sudden that it startled the Deiianian. "What was that fo—" Before he could finish, a massive hammer shot out of a rift, whistling past him with terrifying speed. He barely managed to dodge it, stumbling backward as the weapon disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
The Deiianian laid on the ground, trembling, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Meanwhile, E.K. stood there as if nothing had happened, his calm demeanor unshaken. Without a word, he resumed walking along the glowing purple river.
Then, with a loud sigh, E.K. stopped. He turned back, scooped up the fallen Deiianian with ease, and put him onto his shoulder.
"Tell me about those three," E.K. commanded, his voice low and unrelenting. "And no is not an answer." He continued his steady pace, eyes fixed on the shimmering horizon, his presence as unyielding as the flow of the river beside them.
The Deiianian was taken aback. "How did he know? And how the fuck is he so calm?" he thought, trying to suppress the growing unease in his chest.
"Okay... well," he started hesitantly, "they appeared a few decades ago. No one knows where they came from; they just showed up. They call themselves 'Sparks,' but we don't know what that means. Their names are Ism, Ilirim, and Ajnido."
E.K.'s eyes narrowed at the first name. "Ism?" he asked, his tone edged with recognition.
The Deiianian nodded quickly. "Yeah, he's like eleven boulders high."
E.K. nodded back, as though confirming an old memory. "I know him. What is he doing here?"
"You know him?"
"I do," E.K. replied flatly. "We were both in the Custodes Dei, back in the glory days. He uses time and space manipulation—and he wields a hammer-like weapon." His gaze shifted briefly to the side, recalling something. "Hmm... so that's where that attack came from—the future." E.K.'s lips curved slightly into a smirk. "Too bad I adapted to such tactics long ago, or he might've hit me."
The Deiianian stared, then snorted sarcastically. "Yeah, totally. I absolutely know what you're talking about."
E.K. ignored the jab. "But what did they mean by calling themselves 'Sparks'? They kept yelling it while attacking us."
They passed a withered sign that read, Welcome to Nazae.
E.K. slowed his pace, his brows furrowing slightly. "A village?" he muttered. "Last time I was here, there were no settlements." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and started walking in the direction the sign pointed.
"Finally, a good question," E.K. remarked, almost as though to himself.
The Deiianian brightened slightly at the apparent acknowledgment of his earlier question, and his chest swelled with pride. A compliment from this stoic bastard? he thought.
"Sparks," E.K. began, his voice steady and deliberate, "are born from the lingering energy of Supreme Beings. When they wield absolute power, some of that energy disperses into the 'Fundus Universalis'. Over time, it can compress into a being—a Spark."
He glanced briefly at the Deiianian before continuing. "They're called Sparks because they ignite from the flames of the Absolute."
The Deiianian nodded along, eyes wide with intrigue.
"Sparks evolve, and can take on many forms, from abstract to physical entities," E.K. explained. "Their powers are tied to the Supreme Being they come from. For example, Sparks from Aeterna always begin with time-based abilities. Sparks from Iur exhibit powers of finality and judgment. And so on."
"What happens if they don't evolve... properly?" the Deiianian asked tentatively.
"They collapse." E.K.'s voice darkened. "During their first phase, instability can lead to an internal breakdown. If that breakdown continues into the second phase, they compress into a star-like body, we refer to them as 'sun'. Containment is possible at that stage, but if they reach the third phase..." He paused, his gaze hardening. "They collapse again—this time violently. The resulting explosion can devastate entire realms. Depending on what they cause, they get a name, for example if one causes time to be disintegrated, then it would be called, 'The Temporal Sun.'"
The Deiianian swallowed hard. "Do you know any Sparks like that?"
E.K. stopped suddenly, his vision unfocused. "The Black... Sun," he whispered, his voice heavy with suppressed emotion.
The Deiianian tilted his head. "The what?"
Before E.K. could answer, a voice, harsh yet smooth, slithered through the air.
"Yes... The Black Sun."
E.K. froze. Sweat beaded on his brow as his heartbeat quickened.
"You were supposed to contain it, weren't you, E.K.?" the voice taunted. "But you said, 'It won't collapse again. It's impossible.' Yet here we are."
"No..." E.K. murmured, his tone brittle with guilt. "It wasn't my fault... Gonk... it wasn't my fault..."
The Deiianian looked at him, confused. "Who are you talking to?"
"Do you remember what happened, E.K.? Hundreds of Custodes—gone. Heliterna, crippled beyond repair. All because of you."
"Stop..." E.K.'s voice was a mix of anger and desperation.
"How is Heliterna now, E.K.? Can he walk? Can he live a normal life? What about the others—those who died under your command?"
"Stop!" E.K. shouted, his anger boiling over.
The air around him began to crackle violently, bending light away from his body. He reached for his sheathed sword, his trembling hand gripping the hilt. Slowly, he drew it, and the moment the blade started to rise out of his scabbard, reality itself began to fracture.
The Deiianian panicked. "Whoa! Hey! Stop it! HEY!"
But E.K. was lost in his own storm of rage and guilt. "It was a mistake, Gonk... a mistake..."
"You did it on purpose."
E.K.'s eyes widened in shock. "What...?"
Reality splintered further as E.K.'s emotional state unraveled. The energy radiating from him became unbearable. Out of sheer desperation, the Deiianian leapt up and swung a haymaker, striking E.K. across the face.
The blow snapped E.K. back to his senses. He stood still for a moment, then slowly sheathed the exposed part of his sword. The fractured air smoothed out, the river resumed its flow, and the world returned to normal.
E.K. adjusted his hood, shielding his face from view. "Thanks," he muttered.
The Deiianian, still shaken, asked cautiously, "You okay?"
E.K. nodded stiffly. "Yes. But—"
"But what?"
E.K. turned toward him, his purple gaze distant. "Nothing happened."
The Deiianian frowned in confusion, the memory of the incident already fading from his mind. Meanwhile, E.K. walked on, his own memories retreating into the deepest corners of his psyche—buried, but never truly forgotten.
"Come on, get on my shoulder." E.K. Said, the Deiianian nods, and leaps on top of one.
Then they continued to walk in the direction the sign pointed to.
--