Beyond the cloudy skies of the only world he has ever known, in the great expanse of the void, innumerable specs of light fortuitously scattered across space looked down at him with considerable weight. Around many of these strange fiery lights floating in an invisible ocean revolved worlds teeming with life and countless peoples going about their meaningless existence. Though, as nonsensical as they were, every single life would one day be entrusted to him for guidance and protection.

There were scores of hidden secrets in the universe for a malleable young man such as Izzar to uncover. Many of which he had known to exist but was beyond his reach to explore, and others he had studied but wished he could forget. As the heir to the galaxy, exploring the greatest of these mysteries was the purpose of his existence. It would equip him one day with immeasurable knowledge that would become the beacon guiding him in his duties to watch over the destiny of all humankind.

Since birth, he has been raised in the secret Citadel on the distant planet of Dessix, trained by Thanatos Velix, the Epsimus of a clandestine organization that has been shaping the destiny of mankind for eons.

The soft embrace of maternal love has been absent from his heart; he had no desire for it either. But, from birth until now, the absence of this crucial human interaction has never influenced who he was or the way he swore fealty to the Order or hindered his progress in his training. He lived to serve the Epsimus and knew no other family than those of the four-hundred-ninety-nine monks who occupied the Citadel.

From time to time, the elusive white-clothed figure they’ve identified to him as his mother came to the halls of the Citadel to have an audience with the Epsimus. Due to the strict rules of the Citadel, it was rare for anyone to be granted this privilege. He knew the person was the one who gave life to him and brought him into this world, he even knew her name, but he never stopped to wonder who she was or why she never acknowledged his existence. Izzar never felt any kind of connection towards her.

He was not to be alone with the Epsimus and the monks for much longer; his future was to rule but not alone. Though he was not yet aware of this. So, after many years of searching and consideration, the monks have chosen two young people of similar age to be brought to the fortress for training: Aargon Lexius, son of the Grand Keeper of the great Lybrarius Society on Prion, and Viha Remit, the only daughter to the king of the Warrior’s Guild on Gandron.

Thanatos and the monks of the Citadel would take these young people and train them to become advisors to Izzar, be ready one day to assist him in the responsibilities he would inherit from Thanatos, and take part in the duties of the Grand Master of the Order of the Ipsimus.

Their sole purpose was to advise and accompany Izzar on every matter, task, or journey he faced; only death could free them from this lifelong bond and oath. Thus, as Thanatos intended in his teachings, the three would be required to develop an unbreakable bond, a trinity of might, wisdom, and leadership. The rule of three was a vital structure the Order has observed for thousands of years. It was the cornerstone to the rulership of an Epsimus.

The tradition of this institution had been flawless; hover, after thousands of years, the unbroken tradition was ended. The two advisors who had been with Thanatos for decades were assassinated during a routine audience at the Citadel not too many years ago. Due to the unnaturally sharp senses and unmatched abilities the monks of the Citadel possessed, the assassins failed to assassinate Thanatos. However, the attack left him maimed and paranoid, exiling himself to Dessix to focus on his research. He never chose new advisors in fear of infiltration or repeated assassinations. The Citadel monks feared for Thanatos’s life. So they placed it upon themselves to lock and restrict passage to the Citadel; only the top leaders of the Order, Izzar, and the monks themselves were allowed in, where the first had to be summoned beforehand.

Thanatos had chosen Izzar at birth to become his successor; choosing a newborn as heir and training them from a young age was customary within the Order for more than a millennium. However, choosing Izzar sparked anger within the Order hierarchy as Sorath, Izzar’s older brother, was chosen first and was favored amongst the leadership to become the new heir. With the increasing threats of assassination and internal division within the Order, Thanatos was forced to find new alternative means to regain control. He had to turn to the mythical power of the Nihil.

One of the many challenges Thanatos consigned to Izzar was sending him into the wilderness alone to find more ruins scattered over the landscape. When all the pieces Izzar could possibly collect were brought back to the Citadel, it was placed in a great hall in the center of the magnificent fortress. The samples were matched with all the other stones to complete the puzzle to finding this great power.

On that morning, Izzar knew his task for the day did not involve him searching for ruins; something far more inhumane was waiting for him. He was dreading it all night; unable to sleep, he meditated and focused his mind. Finally, the time had come when his chamber doors opened, and a monk appeared.

“Master Thanatos is ready for you.”

The chains bound to his arms cut into his skin, blood ran along the chain and dripped to the floor a few inches away. The room had no features, it was dark, and there were no sounds. Chained for hours, Izzar patiently waited for the Epsimus to come and teach him in the ways of the Ipsimus. The room was cold around him, forced to remove all his clothes; his skin had turned a pale blue, and his head wandered. Yet, his thoughts did not dare linger anywhere else than that moment; falling into that trap once almost cost him his life.

Training of this kind was customary to Izzar; he did not think it harsh or cruel. On the contrary, Thanatos would always give him valuable insight that would change his view on the world around him. The aging old man was no frail human being; he knew how to demand respect and train his heirs. But, unfortunately, Izzar would rule in his place one day, and he wouldn’t be there to guide him. Thus his training was essential to prepare him for the harsh duties of an Epsimus.

The duration he spent in the darkness varied; he never expected it to end soon. Instead, he focused on remaining in the present; maintaining balance was important; losing it would be fatal. This sort of training came few and far between. The last time he had been exposed to it was more than a year ago; he got taught the subtleties of politics controlled by the Order. It was not to leave that room; it was secret knowledge that only he was allowed to know as the future ruler of the cosmos.

The room grew colder, the presence of an evil shadow moved along the walls, the hair on Izzar’s back stood up. From head to toes, his skin cringed, and his body grew unresponsive. The one roaming the room feasted on his fear; he was satisfied that his presence was still respected.

“This is your lesson for today.” His voice was sinister, a deep dark element Izzar did not know to exist in anyone else.

He didn’t look up; he knew who was in the room with him. But, even if he looked up, he would have only seen darkness and not the man teaching him.

“The first Epsimus hailed from Earth; he was a strong warrior with wisdom unmatched by anyone in the human race. He was an elusive man; no one but the upper zenith of the Order knew of his existence.”

Izzar could feel his presence moving from one side of the room to the other; the old man was quick and quiet.

“As Epsimus, you are to lead in the shadows, be someone unknown to the galaxy just as Primis Velix was. Therefore, your inner circle must be chosen with great care.”

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The weight of the chains on his shoulders was starting to take its toll; Izzar was struggling. The seconds seemed to pass by like minutes; Thanatos’s words were slow, purposefully so. The words no longer sounded like any language he knew. He only wished for them to pass. In his unknown location in a dark room deep within the Citadel, Izzar could feel his old Master staring at him, waiting for him to give up. He wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction again.

“The weight you feel on your shoulders is what you will come to know as the weight you will be bearing as the Epsimus; it is a weight you cannot carry on your own.”

Izzar agreed; he could not carry that weight on his own; the chains were heavy, and relief seemed to be far out of reach.

“Trust no one, not even me.” Thanatos’s voice deepened, the room shook, the air filled with an evil essence.

“Death is a means, not an end. One day I will too depart, and you shall rule in my place, not without my legacy. The fear for the Epsimus comes from the first and continues with the last; fear of death and loss is the only way the Order has survived for nine thousand years. As for the Epsimus, fear is a concept of our imagination created to control us, and the Epsimus will not be controlled. We are the chosen, the bloodline of the true emperors and kings of the universe; we alone possess the means of ruling. However, we do not rule alone; we have advisors and leaders in various places to assist and enforce. Therefore the Rule of Three, you Izzar, must come to understand as the only weapon in your arsenal that will make the Order into a force that will continue to rule for nine thousand years more.”

The concept of the Rule of Three had not been taught to him before, this was a new teaching. Thanatos seemed to be ruling alone; he has no advisors, no trinity head. Izzar tried hard to keep his focus, to listen to the words of the old Epismus; it was no easy task.

“Your enemies are infinite; they lurk; for the Rule of Three to survive, you must be alert and protect it with your life.”

The chains loosened, and his shoulders rested for the first time; his arms numb from his neck to his fingertips, he failed to stop his sudden fall to the ground. He laid there for a few moments until Izzar felt a breeze enter the room, and moments later, two pairs of ice-cold hands picked him up from the floor and dragged him away. His energy was drained entirely; the blood he had lost from the cuts caused by the cuffs made him dizzy and unable to focus. A gush of fresh air filled the room from the open door; his lungs were relieved.

Lifting his head, he saw the outline of his old Master in the doorway; he was holding his cane, a symbol of his character, an extension of his body. The monks dragged him behind Thanatos into a dirt-filled courtyard. The courtyard was used as a sparring ground for Izzar and the monks; it was a first for Thanatos to enter it. Monks lined up all around the courtyard walls there to witness the fight between Thanatos and Izzar. Finally, the monks dropped Izzar on the floor and took a single step back. Thanatos removed his robe and handed it to another monk nearby; a second monk approached him and gave him his sword.

“If you are alone, you are vulnerable to attack.” Thanatos approached. His rough hands, cold as ice, wrapped around Izzars arm, and he was picked up from the ground with little effort. The utter strength filled Izzar with fear. He had never imagined a man as thin as Thanatos, who resembles a skeleton, would possess such pure strength. He let go of his arm, and Izzar fell to the ground once again. There was no life in his arms; he could not move them an inch.

“Get up.” Thanatos’ voice thundered around them; everything seemed to move when he spoke. Izzar was simply not able to gather the strength to obey his command.

“I said get up!” A quake rattled the courtyard, the monks all took another step back. Izzar was simply not able to obey even though his spirit was fighting his body to get up.

“Weak.” Thanatos spat at Izzar; his dark eyes seemed to pierce through his skull; he had looked into them too many times to not know their effects on him.

“You call yourself the heir….” His voice stopped; Izzar noticed something deep inside Thanatos, but he couldn’t place it.

“You are not worthy of being an Epsimus; you are weak and a failure!” Thanatos’s heavy boot cracked one of Izzar’s ribs as the old man kicked with all his might. Izzar slid over the floor and came to rest face-up in front of one of the monks. The monk was looking down but not at him; there was no expression on his face, no indication of humanity. Izzar couldn’t feel any pain coming from his body.

The old Master with deep black eyes and pale skin stood over Izzar; the monk took another few steps back to give Thanatos room.

“I am disappointed in you; I had so much hope, but failure should have been what I expected. The Order will die with you.”

Izzar did not take his eyes off his Master; he caught a glimpse of something he had never seen in him; those words were not meant for him, Thanatos was saying it to himself.

Life entered his arms, he gained strength; without breaking eye contact, Izzar pushed himself up and off the floor. Though exhausted, he kept on standing; he was not going to give up. Thanatos stood back, almost dropping his sword; his eyes widened, and his mouth opened, only to close again. His eyes began to flare, a deep fire within his black eyes seemed to have awoken, his lips formed a smirk as evil as his intentions.

“There might be hope for you yet. Now, defend yourself.”

The old man lunged at Izzar; he was not expecting it. Thanatos was not fighting with training in mind; the sword nearly hit him, but Izzar dodged the blow, just in time falling to the floor once again. Thanatos did not relent; he came back for another attack; it was do or die. Izzar managed to role away. Not having a shred of clothing on seemed to make him light, agile. All the pain in Izzar’s body was gone; he felt like a new person. Thanatos increased his attacks; he moved quicker than before, not giving Izzar the chance to rest.

One final blow came in from above; Izzar knew he was done for this time, he lifted his hands to stop the sword, a silly thought, but he was going to die nonetheless. He was anticipating a blow, but none came. He opened his eyes and found Thanatos’s sword firmly resting in his palms; his old Master seemed paler than before, his eyes more comprehensive, the sword was shaking slightly. Izzar had blocked the sword with his bare hands.

Thanatos dropped the sword together with his jaw and stumbled back; the sheer surprise in his wide eyes could not be hidden from Izzar. “How did you….” But, not even Izzar knew, he was at full strength again, and he blocked a fatal blow of a blade sharper than anything else he knew without effort. Thanatos left the courtyard in a rush, leaving his sword, robes, and cane behind.

Izzar looked down at his hands; there were no marks or wounds, even the wounds from the chain cuffs were gone too; he was no longer bleeding.

“What happened?” The words slipped past his lips, the monks around him looked up all at once to look at Izzar. In their eyes, too, there was shock and amazement.

A tall younger monk emerged from the shadows with a robe in hand; he wrapped it around Izzar and led him out of the courtyard. Whispers intensified as they walked through the halls; the news of this feat had spread amongst the monks quicker than it had happened. The look on Thanatos’s face could not leave his mind; the old man had never looked like that before. He didn’t think it possible for the old man to become more pale than usual. He looked at his hand once again and could not understand; his wounds usually took days to heal even with assistance, and stopping a sword with his bare hands was no feat to be ignored.

The monk left Izzar in his room alone; no explanation or instruction followed. Thanatos usually gave the monks instruction to continue Izzar’s training, but something has changed. Izzar sat down on his meditation spot overlooking the Jungles of Dessix; the sounds of the jungle calmed his mind enough to try and think about what had happened. But, again, no answer came to mind.

Hours had passed since the strange phenomenon occurred; his mind was still deep in thought. Then, the loud creaking of his room door startled him. A small DG6 unit entered without announcement.

“Oh, Diggix, it’s only you.” Izzar turned around to look at the jungles once again.

“Master Epsimus sent me. He wishes you to repeat to me the lessons given today.”

Izzar gave the little robot a glare, the semi-intelligent bot was good conversation sometimes, but his loyalty and eagerness towards duty to Thanatos were sometimes distracting and a nuisance. He would wish nothing else but for the robot to leave him in his thoughts.

“Is there anything else?” Although Izzar’s question seemed to be entirely ignored by the robot, his eager dead stare persisted and gave a hint that Thanatos was looking for something more than usual.

Izzar proceeded to tell the robot in detail what had happened since he started meditating that morning; he left nothing out besides the expressions from Thanatos. He knew that Thanatos studied these brief recordings of him explaining the day’s lessons, and he would not take such explanations lightly.

“Are we done?” Izzar was agitated, he needed to be alone, something the robot did not seem to understand.

“Master Epsimus has instructed me to notify you of this: He has sent for two beings to join you in these halls. Therefore, you are to prepare yourself for their imminent arrival. The names of these beings are Aargon Lexius of Prion and Viha Remit of Gandron.”

A menial task, he thought to himself; he has been given tasks to prepare himself for guests before, it never interested him, though. So he climbed off from his meditation perch and approached Diggix; the little robot had a tablet for him that would contain all the information he needed to know about the newcomers. Izzar took the tablet from the robot and looked at it; the lifeless robot left the room without a single word further. But, with no surprise, the tablet was already open on information about Aargon. Thanatos wanted him to know more about these people, he thought, he always had a reason for everything.