Time flowed like a river, striving to reach that endless expanse of the ocean, or in this case, the cold embrace of the void. Humanity, once more restored to their peak, began to expand among the stars, rediscovering old technology and making new breakthroughs of their own. Koyko acted as their shepherd, guiding them into the light.

It was startling to see how much he had changed. He had used to be a raging flame, burning all that got in his way. Now he was an endless ocean, the ocean that contained all things. Like the ancient trade winds, he guided the people over that endless ocean of meaning, helping them find their own paths, their own identities. And for his service, they named him.

Kyoko an Erduk, Herald of Dawn, Sage of the Infinite Sea.

For a time, hope swelled within me and the natural resilience of humanity shone through, the disasters of the previous century only serving to augment their strength. The stars became their homes as they ran wild through the cosmos. The wonders of the universe bowed to those souled individuals, giving way to the infinities locked within them. It was the dawn of a golden age like nothing I’d ever seen before.

Alas, reality is not so kind.

In the shadows, Xanthar er Narak watched with rage as the once shining star of the rebellion turned into naught more than another king. Another Nero. Another Final Empire. And he refused to accept that. Normally, upon recognizing the power that was Kyoko, no man would dare oppose him. But Kyoko’s heavens brought out the passion in everyone, augmented their convictions and made them more of themselves. And it was with that weight of his being Xanthar set out to dethrone Kyoko.

In almost every case, it was futile. Kyoko was far too powerful, and Xanthar far too weak. But as mighty as Kyoko was, he was not yet a god. He could not see everywhere, and Xanthar’s small rebellion went unnoticed. They had a single hope, one they traversed the universe to acquire. Nero’s crown, the container of the last remnant of his path, his power.

I watched as they struggled to stay conscious through the sea of meaning the Homeworld had become, and I watched as they triumphantly seized the silver crown.

Watching them journey back was nerve wracking. I wished I could interfere, warn Kyoko, but it was not my path. And for beings such as me, the path was everything.

The fateful day came exactly 81 years after the collapse, as Xanthar and his cohort marched into Kyoko’s apartments, still located in the original base of the rebellion. Kyoko had allowed himself to physically age, even though he never let time touch the core of himself. His long white hair hung in a simple pony tail as he frantically scrawled in that journal of his, as he had been doing for so long. I suspected whatever was in that journal had to do with his frequent visits to HER. He obscured with so much power that gazing into it would force a direct conflict between us.

I had no wish to strike down my rising star before he ascended.

The wide atrium they entered was massive yet empty, with naught but a simple desk tucked away in the corner. The one Kyoko was writing on.

Kyoko looked up from his writing, a faint frown on his face, “What can I help you with?”

Xanthar amber eyes were dark and stormy as he replied, his black hair completing the look. “This is your last chance. Tear your path from the heavens and leave, or face the consequence of your tyranny.”

“What are you talking about, Xanthar? What tyranny? What do you think you’re accomplishing with this? I don’t even rule. I simply help wherever I am needed.”

“History has seen this a thousand times before, Kyoko. You can't hide from its eyes. It's only a matter of time before you declare yourself king. Oh, the people will cheer and think themselves lucky. But they don’t know the horror of absolute power. It's our job to make sure they never know.”

Kyoko tilted his head. “Who are you to deny the will of the people?”

“So you admit you plan to claim kinghood.”

Kyoko sighed. “Xanthar, the reason I will never claim kinghood is the opposite of the reason you came here today. Nero loved his people, more than you can imagine.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Xanthar snorted. “N–”

Kyoko held up a hand. “Let me finish.” Xanthar’s mount snapped shut as if the universe had commanded it to. “Nero could have been a god. Simple as that. A thought would have made him a being capable of creating his own universe. Creating his own life. But he didn’t. He refused to leave his people. He loved them too much, so he smothered them, ensuring they lived safe, comfortable lives. He hid them from the horrors, and in order to maintain that status quo, he destroyed the few for the sake of the many. That where your conception of tyranny comes from”

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they burned with golden flame, mingling with the azure skies within. “I love the people too, but my love is different. I don’t want them to live safe, happy lives. I want them to live their lives. My path does not enforce foreign concepts onto the people, it merely draws out people’s truest self.”

He waved a hand at Xanthar. “Look at you. Standing in the way of a demigod, solely because your morals tell you too. That is all you. I merely helped draw it out.”

He sighed. “So no. I will not claim kinghood. I will not be a tyrant. Does that settle your concerns?”

Xanthar’s scowled. “You would keep the people from a safe and easy life?”

Kyoko raised an eyebrow. “That's what you’re focusing on? Alright. Xanthar, I stand for freedom in its highest form. The freedom to make mistakes. The freedom to live and the freedom to die. The people’s choices are their own, no matter the consequences.”

For a second, Xanthar hesitated, then his eyes hardened. “Pretty words. Your actions were weighed and the course of action decided on long before your meeting. It matters not how you justify it, turn back from this path or suffer the consequences.”

Kyoko sighed, “What are you going to do, Xanthar? Use the crown.” He indicated the silver circlet of Xanthar’s head. “Who's the king now? Besides, I slew Nero almost a century ago. And his crown is nothing without him. Face it, there is nothing you can do.”

“There’s one thing.”

Too late, Kyoko saw the thin thread binding the crown and a distant planet, the Homeworld. His pupils dilated. “Are you insane!? That will kill you all!”

“Better dead than under the yoke of another king!”

Kyoko reacted instantly, lashing out far beyond the speed of thought. But the speed of soul was instantaneous. He was too slow.

Paths are wonderful, powerful things containing marvelous conceptions and expansive ideas. They can persist for an eternity, inspiring generation after generation of new people. But the inverse is also true. A single moment of transcendent glory. A rewriting of reality in the image of its path. Burning a single path is dangerous. A thousand conflicting ones?

Madness.

That’s what Xanthar did. He didn’t need to understand the paths to ignite them, but by borrowing some of Kyoko’s passion from the heavens and fashioning it into a weapon, ironically using the very soul manipulation Kyoko had taught to the people. However, even with Kyoko’s heavens augmenting his path, he never would have dared if he knew the scale of what he had just done. He had probably meant it as a threat, something to make Kyoko back down. He didn’t know it was enough to wipe humanity out.

I was numb as the Homeworld vanished, replaced by a ball of incandescent power that consumed everything in this way. The ignition spread along karmic threads, igniting all the paths I had set among the stars. The sum of humanity, the beauty of my creation, consumed in a single instant for a horrible moment of brute force.

Kyoko roared, igniting his passion to its fullest for the first time since the completion of his path. Every mortal on the planet was instantly slain by his sheer presence, his heart bled, but he knew the sacrifice that was required to save the rest. With skill and precision that would have qualified anyone else for godhood, he wove a billion shields in the span of an instant, calibrating each to the specific flavor of power heading his way. The wave of power struck, and his shields, spread thin as they were, could not hold. They tore with a trillion sounds, sending fragments of meaning hurling through the void.

Kyoko breathed in deep, and then he ignited.

Golden soul flame roared off of him, shrouding the planet like a newfound sun as he mustered all the power he possibly could. Then, like a golden vortex, he absorbed them all back into himself, focusing his power to the utmost.

There was no time for fancy weaving, no time for profound concepts. Kyoko bent space and stepped out into the void right between the wave of power and the largest cluster of humanity.

Then he gripped God-Slayer, and channeling his power into it, he exploded.

A raw expression of power, of passion that should have not been possible. Golden flames raced outward, sundering everything on a spiritual level. It hit the wave of power and destroyed it utterly. The humans behind Kyoko were also struck by that wave of power, their nascent paths severed and their spirituality stripped. Kyoko had managed to alter the wave to avoid outright killing them, but most had been completely wiped, reduced to mere animals until their souls managed to reestablish their spirituality and reconnect to their minds once more.

Numbly, I stabilized the universe, wondering why I even bothered at this point.

And just like that, the burgeoning golden age had ended.