Everything was lost.
A man knelt in a sea of flames, the halls of white marble in ruin were littered with the betrayed. He was alone, surrounded by the corpses of his friends, his family, and their murderers.
His white shining cloak was hanging on by a thread, nothing was betraying its noble origin. His bloody body was similarly damaged, and long golden hair, burned in multiple places and no recognizable hairstyle to be seen, finished his ragged appearance. Even despite all of this, he had a sense of nobility in him which was only exceeded by the aura of grief and rage. A gruesome figure in a scenery straight out of a nightmare.
The ruin was covered in a blanket of silence, not even the flames dared to breach it. It wasn't completely silent though, as a gut-wrenching scream caused everything else to remain quiet. A scream that could be mistaken for a thunderstorm and which carried the power of a force of nature.
Why? Why? How? His mind was racing, a thousand thoughts bombarding it at every moment. He tried to grab the golden great sword lying at his feet, but his muscles wouldn't answer his command. He had fought too long, taken too many hits, and his soul was not strong enough to overcome the grief anymore. He couldn't do anything; he had raged until his body refused him. The only thing his body permitted, in its destroyed state was to wail and that is what he did.
He screamed his agony, regret, and hatred into the world but there was no one to hear him. No god above, no mortal in sight, no enemy to slay, because he was the only one that remained.
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God
His eyes snapped open. Still shaking from the vision of the past as it began to fade. The god became evermore aware of his dark surroundings; he was hovering in the nothing between realms, the only light, radiating from his body. The darkness made him uncomfortable, it was not in his nature to like it, but secrecy was of utmost importance, and no one would expect a god of light in the utter darkness between realms.
He shook his head to banish the memories, he had to focus on the here and now. What he was about to do was difficult enough even without being distracted by the past.
The white and golden cloak's wide cut moved in a wide arc as the god swung his arm, the determination echoed within his motion which was reflected on his scared face. In front of his golden eyes, a magical circle burst into existence and pulsed in turquoise light. The god raised his other hand, pointing at the smaller magic circles that surrounded the larger circle. One by one they activated, starting to spin and shine brightly in different colors. Once all 64 smaller circles had activated, he turned back to the main one.
What he was doing here was against all laws of nature and if he were to be found out he would probably be annihilated but he knew he had to do it. He would grasp at any advantage he could gain, for revenge was everything he had left. He didn't hesitate, doubt was not in his nature. With a light touch, the huge magic circle activated. The lines of symbols, with which the magic circle was constructed, began to move in slow concentric movements around the god. It was calming to be surrounded by the dim turquoise light and the god took in the beautiful sight before continuing his work.
Years of work - of preparation - had led to this moment. He had researched spacial magic, crafted artifacts, and searched for the right time and place to conduct his ritual and now all was finally coming together.
He waited while the first stage of the ritual activated and in this moment of calmness, he thought about his brother and sister gods, the good times the peaceful times, before the war, before the betrayal. He couldn't focus on the good times for long and pictures of the burning of the pantheon crept back into his mind. Dead bodies of his servants, the screams of his siblings as they were dragged to the ground by the servants of evil, his own helplessness in the face of a never-ending tide. They had been too few and the attack had taken them by surprise.
The full activation of the magic circle prevented him from falling into another vision, as a translucent barrier materialized in front of him.
If it weren't for the betrayers, he thought but quickly choked that thought. He had gone over it a million times and he wasn't ready to go down that rabbit hole in this situation, he had work to do.
He reached for the barrier and pushed his hand against it, even his divine strength didn't manage to move it even a hair’s width.
“Hmm, it is real,” he said to himself; he hadn't fully believed that this veil even existed. That these worlds he had seen, where his powers meant nothing actually existed and could be reached.
It made him uncomfortable.
He was a god, a divine being with more power than any mortal could ever have. He had believed that once upon a time before a race that could be described as mortal burst into the divine realm and murdered eleven of these supposedly supreme beings. Lately, he was ever more conscious of his weakness and a lot of the arrogance of his younger years had disintegrated.
His mental state as a whole had deteriorated significantly over the last centuries, and he knew it; dedicating oneself wholly to revenge had no other path than mental decay. He would see it through to the end because the one thing he had overflowing was the drive to make those pay that had shattered his life into a thousand pieces.
With a deep breath - which he theoretically didn't need - he took a knife out of his robes. This knife was the key to the whole ritual and the object he had the most trouble acquiring. It was an artifact that the god had crafted for the purpose of cutting the veil between realities. He moved his fingers over the ornate symbols and gems that which correctly combined could create the powerful property in this knife.
He raised the knife in front of the veil, there would be no going back once he had sliced open the veil between realities, but he didn't hesitate. The moment the knife touched the barrier sparks began to fly everywhere and the knife was flung back.
“What? I am sure I did everything correctly,” the god said confused.
He grabbed the knife more tightly this time and stabbed at the veil. The knife was forced back again but this time the god was prepared for it and pushed back. He barely managed to stop the backward motion of the knife and after a couple of seconds the veil began to give way and the knife suddenly penetrated the barrier. With a quick cut, the god sliced through the veil and opened a view into a strange world. Impossibly huge buildings, strange magical carriages that moved on their own, and the people mostly lived in peace and prosperity, at least in comparison to his own world.
He had seen this world before; in his preparation, he had often looked to find the champion he would need. Looking into another reality was simple in contrast to taking something from there, the repercussions were also less severe.
The god already knew who he was looking for and it didn't take long to find him. The man he was watching was just now walking out of a building together with a much younger man at his side. Walking downstairs to a waiting area for self-pulling carriages.
His life was about to end and begin anew; the god felt a slight pang of pity for the man, but it was quickly forgotten, because what was a man's life against the vengeance of a god?
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Thomas Pruss
“Please Professor”, the young man pleaded with an older man, “I could really use your help with my project”.
Thomas Pruss laughed a little at the overdrawn desperation in the voice of the student. “Come on, Steven, you are a 1.0 student you don't need my help for that project, also it is not even my field of teaching."
Thomas continued down the stairs of the library where he helped students with their assignments every Tuesday and Thursday. He shivered a little bit, as a cold winter breeze hit him, he pulled his cap deeper onto his head covering most of his greyed short hair.
“But I have to keep my scores up so I would be foolish not to take all the help I can get. Also, it is well known that you have vast knowledge in many fields and not only in physics, and I would also even say you know more about history than my professor,” the student countered, still following the professor down the steps.
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“Flattery, not bad, but that doesn't change the fact that you were too late today and will have to wait till Tuesday,” he gave the man a fatherly smile and continued, “I have a dinner appointment with my wife, and I am certain you don't want to be the reason I miss it, right?”
He liked Steven, he was diligent and always tried to do his best even in obscure and nonsensical assignments. Thomas would have liked to have him in one of his courses, but physics wasn't part of the official plan for history majors. It was always a pleasure to help him with his work because he had an open mind and took criticism very well.
“I am sorry that I came this late today, but I had to chase down one of my group members to get his part of the project, and that took 2 hours; the deadline is Monday,” Steven said after a short pause.
Thomas sighed and stopped on the sidewalk of the parking lot.
“The wonders of group projects, …, well give it to me, I will take a look over the weekend and send you my review once I have time, alright?”
“You are the best,” Steven exclaimed and eagerly handed him a small binder and USB stick.
“It won't be too thorough though, I also have a private life,” Thomas said, already skimming through the binder while walking to the parking lot.
“Well, I tried to compound the data into a coherent flow, but it was really ...,” Steven tried to explain the parts of the project he had problems with but after half a sentence Thomas couldn't hear him anymore. He looked over to the student and still saw his mouth moving but it was like time was moving slower.
He wanted to say something but at that moment a searing pain in his chest took hold of him. He screamed but no sound could be heard. It felt like a burning hand had gripped his innards and was trying to rip them out forcefully.
“Is this a heart attack?”, he thought panicked, then with a mighty yank, Thomas lost his consciousness for a moment and the pain stopped immediately.
After regaining his senses, a second later Thomas took a deep breath. Once he had centered himself and looked over to the probably shocked and concerned student, but he wasn't there.
Confused Thomas looked around to see where he went. He guessed that he had gone calling for help but what he saw next perplexed him even more than a student with a phone running to get help. Steven was a couple of meters ahead of him walking still in slowed time right next to Thomas, who was still engrossed in the binder.
“What the hell,” Thomas exclaimed and tried to run over to the other Thomas, but he couldn't move. Every time he tried to take a step the burning feeling returned, and he was pulled back to the place he was.
“What is going on here,” he exclaimed flustered, his mind trying to make sense of this but coming up empty.
He didn't notice that at his feet strange symbols began to appear, but he did notice the small truck speeding down the street onto the parking lot, the same parking lot Steven and his body were walking toward.
He tried to scream, to warn them, and began to fight against his constraints. His scream was silent and his struggle futile. The only thing he could do was watch with growing horror as his body and student stepped into the parking lot, too engrossed with the project to notice the truck.
“PLEASE, STOP,” Thomas cried out voicelessly, but it was all for naught. In the last moments before the impact Steven noticed the truck and called out something while jumping back. Thomas's body just kept walking, not taking any notice in the truck or warning. Even though the truck seemingly tried to hit the brakes and dodge the professor, it was too late.
Was the driver asleep? On his phone? How could he not have noticed? It didn't matter anymore as he hit the man with full force.
The symbols at his feet activated only a moment after the impact. Everything around Thomas was bathed in a gleaming light and he was blind. He felt like he was being dragged away and finally lost consciousness.
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God
The god held the little soul in his palm. It was a small ball of condensed energy, not as big as a creature from his world would possess but that was one of the reasons, he picked this reality.
The first part was done, the god couldn't make out any reaction to his grievous crime, so he nodded and prepared for the last part of the ritual. He would now need to implant the soul into a body, of course, he already had a candidate prepared. With a gesture a large mirror floated towards the god, its golden frame and black surface reflecting the light.
“Michael Rowan,” the mirror immediately followed the command, and the black surface became liquid and then opened the view into a small room. The room was dead silent, nothing betrayed the fact that this was not just a painting but a direct connection.
The god didn't delay and cast another spell onto the mirror and a light emanated from the bed, more accurately from the boy lying in the bed. The light rose in the direction of the mirror and pulled a thin string with it, which connected the body with the light.
The god reached for the light and placed it on a small and plain-looking desk, floating right next to him. The desk was also inscribed with symbols arranged in 2 circles both crossed by an X shape of symbols.
This was not the soul he had pulled; he had made a connection to the astral body of the boy, which in turn harbored the soul and distributed its energy throughout the body. He would now have to extract the soul of the boy and interchange it with the soul of the man. This was much more complicated than just ripping out a soul because he had to make sure the astral body was not damaged too severely to contain the new one.
The boy started to wince slightly as if he had a bad dream.
It would take some time to finish the extraction cleanly, but he had time or so the god thought.
Not long after he had started the operation, he felt the warning of the first of his defensive barriers screeching, only for a moment. This barrier was supposed to warn him while it lasted. It was destroyed instantly and was only able to send a split-second notice.
There was only one kind of being that could annihilate his barrier like this.
His eyes were flailing around to his wards. There is no way he could have noticed already, the god thought. There it was, only a tiny gap in one of his wards, a gap that was not there when he started his ritual.
He could hear faint laughter and outright feel the amusement of his saboteur.
Hatred and rage began to well up in the god, but this was not the time. He had been caught and now the guardian of the law of space was upon him.
There was no way to conclude the ritual.
The second barrier shattered.
The soul could not exist much longer without a body before being considered dead.
The third barrier shattered.
The soul of the boy was still mostly in his astral body.
The fourth barrier shattered.
This ritual was a failure.
The fifth barrier shattered.
He had to escape.
The sixth barrier shattered.
“CURSES,” the god bellowed, much to the amusement of his demonic saboteur. He grabbed the man's soul and just jammed it into the astral body. On Earth, a boy woke up screaming.
The final barrier shattered.
Instantly cracks began to form in the astral body. The god began to pour his power into the vessel to expand and repair it while he continued to force the soul into it and the boy screamed.
He conjured two extra arms made of his mana to continue the process and turned to the source of his predicament. A blue cloud of immensely condensed energy was moving toward him at a frightening pace. He could feel the energy pulsating and then rapidly peaking. A blue beam shot out of it, aimed directly at the god, if it hit, he would be annihilated in an instant.
He had to play for time. Raising his hand, he conjured up a shield of light. The beam impacted on the angled surface and dispersed in all directions, incinerating his wards and everything else not protected by the shield.
The moment the beam subsided; the god started to compress mana into a compact ball between his palms.
The cloud roared in excitement and multiple projectiles shot out of its center, taking different paths toward the enemy. The god was now on the move, abandoning his magic circle and only dragging along the ritual table and mirror.
The first missile came in with the speed of a lightning bolt aimed right at his chest.
He shot up as fast as he could, only to instantly pivot to the right to dodge another missile. He couldn't keep this up, his mental energy being drained simultaneously by the operation, his spell, and the fight. After dodging another missile, he was nearly impaled by an energy bolt from behind. Grunting with the strain he managed to only be grazed on the left side but before gaining his bearings again he was already beset by three more shots.
He couldn't dodge them all, so he quickly raised his right hand and cast hundreds of small mana needles, that shredded the projectiles.
He was close to finishing the insertion, the forceful nature speeding up the process immensely. He had no idea if it would work, he had never heard of or attempted to create a being with two souls. Maybe the body of the boy down on earth would just fail under the stress or the astral body would implode but he had no other choice anymore.
He was distracted for only a moment by the thought, but this moment was enough to slow his response as a huge wall of ethereal flame rolled in his direction. He had to - yet again - take one of his hands off his mana ball to cover himself in a cocoon of light. His clothes were smoking from the fire, but he only sustained minor burns that healed in an instant.
The astral vessel had reached its maximum capacity. Just a little bit left, he thought while gritting his teeth and pouring more of his mana into the vessel to repair the damage from the forceful insertion.
His vision was impaired by the fire, so he tried to move away from the guardian to give himself more space to work with, but he couldn't move. With horror, he noticed the near-invisible chain that had attached itself to his defense. He hadn't sensed it because of the high energy fluctuations of the fire.
He was stuck, in front of one of the most powerful beings in existence. He couldn't dismiss his cocoon either, as the chains would immediately snap shut around him and then he would be truly caught. His vision cleared as the flames vanished and there was no darkness anymore; the whole background that had before been pitch black was now bright turquoise. Hundreds, no thousands of bright turquoise energy lances were just hovering around the cloud. It was as if the guardian wanted the god to see his demise.
Time seemed to slow down as the spears began to move. There was no way to dodge, no form he could take, and no shield he could make but a smile still snuck itself onto the god's face. The lances came in with a speed no mortal would consider possible, but they were still too slow. The god raised the ball of mana he had condensed between his hands and clapped down on it hard.
A shock wave of blinding light exploded and for a moment there was only light. Everything returned to darkness after a split second, and the guardian just hovered in the empty space, alone. The god had vanished, his crime had gone with him.
An earth-shattering roar of frustration emanated from the cloud but there was no one there to hear it.