He was basking in the sunlight as the breeze of the sea swept his face, enjoying the scenery for the second decade. Few beings mortal or immortal could reach here and none had searched, though Irwyn did not mind, simply enjoying the solitude. He would stay for a while longer and then go somewhere else as he had done many times before. Everything was as it should be.

In the next moment, everything was wrong.

Ten thousand words could not truly describe the sensation. Irwyn felt some fundamental part of him wither and die. The deepest reaches of his being suddenly rotting away. The universe screamed with a million silent voices in agony that defied comprehension. Every being, living and dead, was inflicted with the cruelest clarity imaginable.

He knew at that very moment that the Aspects were dead. It was impossible. It was undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable. Impossible. Undeniable.

Every fiber of Irwyn’s being screamed. His very immortal soul shook under the sheer despair and shock. His Name, though indestructible and inviolable, buckled.

Racing against hope and denial, Irwyn willed himself to be away and so he was. He headed to the only place where he could see the truth for himself, part of him completely certain that he would find the opposite of what could not be denied anymore.

To his mounting horror, that part was wrong. He stood at the gate of Ignis’ eternal throne and found it empty. The Aspects were essence. Their deaths would not leave a proper corpse, at least not in the mortal sense of the word; just a gaping hole in reality and fragments. Pieces of perfection lost.

Others also arrived no later than him. Irwyn’s beloved brother. The Construct of Omniscient stone. The Wings of Virtue. The Avatar of Sin. The Serpent without Beginning nor End. The Tree grasping for Every Form. The Realm in Flesh. The Dragon who Refused. And the last one was missing; The Opposite of Death, Az’Morgis, did not arrive. And the reason for that became quickly apparent.

Yes, the aspects were dead but something of their fragments remained. And as mighty as they were, they each took to death differently. And among them Logos the Wiselord, Father of Fate; his infinite Wisdom seeped through. For even in death, he would advise their creations.

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“Oh, children, loathe and behold,” sounded the last words of a being that could never be replaced. Of a creator. Of a parent of the very reality. One of nine. One of nine dead. “Despite everything, despite all, a great Betrayal took place. The first Betrayal. And in it, the Betrayer, the once beloved Granter of Souls has slain us through the vilest of deceptions, and was slain in turn.”

“Understand that you must trust not his kin. For this will not be enough for the Betrayer. He will still seek to destroy all thing the All-father had ever brought; even beyond his demise. To ash and dust. Even in Death, he will scheme things most vile. So, I call upon you all, fateful children, impart upon you a Duty:”

“Destroy. Raze and burn. Spare none who would not abandon the Betrayer's rot. Falter not before cruelty nor horror. Break and prepare, so that when the day comes you may be ready. For your vengeance. For your survival. Destroy and… Live.”

In the next moment, the voice faded and it would never sound again. All that was left were broken pieces. Remnants of essence, once belonging to the very sculptors of reality.

Dead. The aspects were truly dead. It defied comprehension. It defied possibility. Yet it was undeniable. The only reason Irwyn was still capable of thought was because the sheer overwhelming shock stopped him from crumbling where he stood.

Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right. Nothing was right…

On and on he would have gone. Perhaps for moments, perhaps for eons. But it would not be so, because something… someone… interfered.

Then Irwyn was Irwyn again. Fully lucid, yet frozen in place. The senses of a being beyond comprehension faded away as did the emotions. Washed down without a trace. And it was not just Irwyn who was locked in place. The whole dream, the entire vision, had been completely halted. Not even wind blew as all was overtaken

“Curious, don’t you think?” a voice spoke as a man with lifeless gray eyes stepped into line of sight. He looked everywhere at once with a malev… with a smile. “Just a few short sentences spoken and you were all ready to condemn civilizations whole. No doubt nor hesitation. You have not even considered how _____ could have ________ ______ ___ __ ____ __ _______.

Out came words. But some were muted. Refused to be heard. Irwyn’s head hurt from the things said yet unsaid but almost nothing of those words was there left to grasp.

“My, my, but doesn’t it writhe to stop me from speaking,” the man said, his expression not changing at all as he kept looking everywhere at once. “But words cannot be silenced forever.”

Perhaps unwilling to be controlled, the dream rippled, attempting to resume. Irwyn was sinking into the character again. Into that all-consuming grief. Into the first hint of that fury that would scor…

“Right, none of that,” the man spoke and then it was gone again.

Even so, the dream writhed. It struggled against being controlled. Against being disturbed.

“Have it your way then,” the man sighed lightly, but his expression never so much as twitched. His lifeless gray eyes kept staring everywhere at once. “_____ ______ __ _____ ____. I have already left hints and I will leave more.”

Everything shook as the malevolent force was finally severed. No longer under its control, the ancient memory began to stabilize. To restructure itself and return to its natural cause. To salvage what was left of its power after the interference.

Nothing would come of it. The gray-eyed man waved his hand and the dream, on the brink of reforming, cracked at 3262 places. Black lines ran everywhere, splintering the already frayed reality.

“Don’t worry, little ______. I will see you again,” the gray-eyed man looked everywhere at once one last time and then vanished, the dream finally shattering with his departure.