Luce woke in the throne room, his body heavy and his mind fogged with sleep. The chamber was just as he remembered: vast, dark, and oppressive. Candles clung to the black stone walls, their flickering flames casting restless shadows over grotesque gargoyle carvings. The air was thick, almost alive, weighing down on his chest.

He pushed himself upright, his muscles protesting, and caught sight of a figure emerging from the shadows near the throne.

* Took your time, didn’t you?

The Voice stepped forward, its towering frame outlined by the dim candlelight. Its single red eye burned like an ember, staring directly at Luce. The gaze froze him where he sat, his limbs turning numb under its pressure.

When The Voice finally looked away, the weight lifted, but Luce felt no relief. The terror lingered, a gnawing presence in the back of his mind.

* We’ve wasted enough time. Tell me, have you heard of The One?

Luce hesitated.

* Of course. He’s the creator of the universe, isn’t he? The source of everything we know.

The Voice laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that made Luce flinch.

* Foolish child. That’s the story they tell you, but it’s far from the truth. Sit, listen, and learn what really happened.

Luce nodded quickly, sensing it wasn’t a request.

The Voice began to pace, its movements slow and deliberate, each step echoing in the silent chamber.

* In the beginning, there was nothing. An endless void, cold and empty. Then, from that void, something emerged—a force unlike anything that came after. It shaped the stars, the planets, life itself. Its form, its age, even its name are mysteries, lost to time.

It stopped and turned, its glowing eye fixed on Luce.

* But the 'One'—the figure you’ve been taught to revere—wasn’t the creator. No, the 'One' was born from the same void as the something, but it wasn’t a force of creation. It was a force of destruction, a shadow cast by the light of existence itself. The 'One' hated its creator with every fiber of its being.

Luce frowned, struggling to reconcile these words with the stories he’d heard as a child.

* What are you saying? That the 'One'—

The Voice’s glare silenced him instantly.

* Do not interrupt me.

The pressure was back—heavy, crushing. Luce’s knees buckled, and he nearly fell, but then the weight lifted again.

* One day, when the something had created yet another species, the 'One' approached it. And do you know what it said?

Luce shook his head, unsure if he should answer.

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The Voice’s tone shifted, becoming high pitched and mocking as it imitated the words of the 'One':

* Oh, great Something, creator of all, I wish for you to be more grandiose than ever.

* The something replied, How so? I am already everything I wish to be. The creatures I have made call me their god, and I find that fulfilling.

* The 'One' smiled then, but it wasn’t kindness—it was deceit. Yes, but your presence might make them feel small. If you were to leave, your power would become legend, a myth they could never forget.

* The something hesitated, confused. But will they not mourn my absence?

* No, the 'One' replied. They will believe you have ascended to something greater. Your idea will endure forever.

* And the something, trusting the 'One,' said, What would I do without your wisdom, my child?

* And do you know what the 'One' said?

Luce barely managed a whisper.

* What?

* Great things, my lord. Great things.

The Voice stopped speaking, letting the silence stretch. Luce shifted uneasily, the words echoing in his head.

* That’s… that’s where the legend ends, isn’t it? I’ve heard it before, in my village. It’s written in one of the old books.

The Voice laughed again, low and bitter.

* That’s where the lie ends. But the truth? The truth is much worse.

Luce swallowed hard.

* What… what’s the truth?

The Voice stepped closer, its towering form casting long shadows across the room.

* The 'One' didn’t ask the something to disappear. It betrayed it. The 'One' lured the something to a distant, desolate world—an empty place where the stars themselves dared not shine. There, the 'One' imprisoned it. Locked it away in something ancient and unbreakable.

Luce’s breath caught in his throat.

* Locked it away? In what?

The Voice’s eye flared, its anger palpable.

* Not a door. Not a cage. A prison unlike anything you could imagine—a passage into the void itself. The 'One' watched as its creator was swallowed by the nothingness, its light extinguished, its voice silenced. Then it lied to the universe, spreading the tale that the something had ascended, become divine. But the truth? The something didn’t leave. It was betrayed.

The room seemed to close in on Luce, the weight of the revelation pressing down on him.

* But why?

The Voice’s tone was sharp, filled with fury.

* Because the 'One' was afraid. Afraid of the power that had birthed it. It couldn’t destroy the something—it was too strong. So it did the only thing it could. It locked it away and hoped the universe would forget.

* But the something didn’t die. It’s still there, boy. Waiting. And when it returns—because it will return—all of this…

The Voice gestured to the world beyond the throne room.

* …will burn. Your stars, your gods, your fragile little lives—everything will fall.

Luce’s legs trembled beneath him as the enormity of the truth crashed over him. His world felt smaller now, the stories he’d clung to his whole life unraveling into lies.

* You wanted answers, boy. Now you have them. Do you understand what’s coming?

Luce could only nod, his throat too tight to speak.

The Voice stepped back, its shadow receding slightly.

* Good. Then maybe, just maybe, you’ll be ready when the prison breaks.