“Perhaps, just perhaps, if the Reaper hadn’t been contained, you might have a sliver of a chance,” Pandora said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy as he leaned casually against the ethereal desk in Fate’s library. “But now? Now you’re nothing but pieces waiting to be swept off the board.”
Fate calmly placed his teacup down, the delicate sound of porcelain meeting wood cutting through Pandora’s arrogance. His serene demeanor didn’t falter as he regarded his brother with quiet disdain. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Pandora, but not once have I considered Markus as a viable piece in today’s game.”
Pandora’s smirk wavered, a flicker of doubt crossing his crimson eyes. “You’re joking,” he said, his tone laced with incredulity. “Markus Valentine—the Reaper, the strongest human on this entire damned planet—isn’t one of your so-called viable pieces? The man who could carve through armies with a flick of his wrist? You’re telling me he’s not the one you’re counting on?”
Fate’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles, a subtle, knowing gesture that seemed to infuriate Pandora further. “Indeed,” Fate replied, his voice as smooth as the still surface of a pond. “While Markus possesses a power that is… remarkable, however, he is burdened by too many leashes. His strength has been crippled by the seals A.E.G.I.S’s leader placed upon him. He is formidable, yes, but he is nowhere near as valuable as Nihil.”
Pandora straightened, his smirk returning but tinged with irritation. “Nihil?” he repeated, scoffing. “You’re putting your faith in him? That enigmatic weirdo with the blank mask and roses on his head? I’ve seen his work—impressive, sure, but hardly world-shattering. And you dare to claim he surpasses Markus?”
Fate’s eyes gleamed with quiet confidence as he refilled his teacup, the scent of jasmine wafting gently through the air. “You misunderstand, dear brother,” he said, lifting the teacup to his lips. “It is not a question of surpassing Markus. Nihil exists in a realm entirely separate from such comparisons. His purpose transcends power alone, something your narrow perspective cannot grasp.”
Pandora’s confidence wavered for a fraction of a second before he laughed, a sharp, cutting sound that echoed in the stillness of the library. “You’re bluffing. You have to be. Markus is the Reaper. No human matches his affinity with death, and you’re telling me he’s been relegated to a mere side piece in your game? I specialize in death, he could easily ruin my plans!”
Fate set his teacup down with deliberate care, the small motion carrying an air of finality. “Markus was never intended to be the decisive factor in this match. Watch closely, brother. Watch as Nihil—someone you’ve foolishly underestimated—destroys your ‘unkillable’ clone. And perhaps then, you’ll understand why fear should reside in your heart.”
Pandora’s crimson eyes darkened slightly, his smirk faltering as Fate’s words struck deeper than he cared to admit. His fingers drummed against the desk as he considered the implications, but before he could respond, the scene shifted.
Outside Wallace’s office, the air was thick with an almost suffocating tension, the hallway crackling with the unseen static of two immense powers locked in an unspoken standoff. The walls, once plain and utilitarian, seemed to bow under the pressure, faint fissures spidering out across the plaster as if the very space around them was struggling to hold itself together.
Wallace stood at the threshold, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his gun. His shoulders were squared, his posture brimming with determination despite the towering aura emanating from Pandora’s clone. The clone leaned lazily against the door frame, his crimson eyes alight with smug amusement, his stance one of effortless superiority. It was a predator’s posture—a man perfectly at ease in the knowledge that he held the upper hand.
“You’re in my way,” Wallace growled, his voice sharp and steady.
Pandora’s clone smirked, his lips curling with mockery. “Oh, Wallace. Do you really think you can stop me? How quaint.”
From behind Wallace, Nihil stepped forward, his movements so fluid and silent that he seemed more shadow than man. His black cloak rippled unnaturally, the pale white roses adorning it seeming to glow faintly in the dim light. The crown of roses atop his head was almost regal, though it clashed starkly with the blank, expressionless mask that hid his face. His long white hair cascaded down his back.
“Wallace,” Nihil said, his voice soft yet cutting, carrying an authority that demanded obedience. “Step aside. Your death would serve no purpose here.”
Wallace stiffened, his grip on his weapon tightening. “Sure, if you show me what’s under that mask,” he countered, his tone sharp with defiance.
There was a pause—a fleeting moment of stillness as Nihil tilted his head ever so slightly. Then, without warning, his hand shot out, striking Wallace’s jaw with a speed and precision that left no room for reaction. Wallace crumpled to the ground, unconscious, before he even hit the floor.
“I’m sorry about that,” Nihil murmured, his tone devoid of malice as he bent down to lift Wallace’s limp body. He carried him as if he weighed nothing, placing him gently to the side, and propping him up against the wall.
The clone’s laughter echoed through the hallway, sharp and mocking. “You knocked out your healer? Really? Are you sure that was a smart move?” he taunted, his crimson eyes narrowing in amusement.
Nihil didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he raised his left hand to his chest, his movements deliberate and unnervingly calm. Without hesitation, he plunged his hand into his own ribcage. The sickening sound of tearing flesh and splintering bone reverberated through the hallway as he pulled his own heart free. It was pale and translucent, pulsating faintly with an eerie white glow.
As the clone watched, stunned but intrigued, Nihil clenched his hand into a fist, crushing the heart into a fine, shimmering powder. The fragments dissolved into the air like ashes caught in a breeze. The gaping wound in Nihil’s chest knitted itself back together in an instant, the pale roses on his cloak blooming brighter as though feeding on his sacrifice.
“I have no need for a healer,” Nihil said coldly, his voice carrying an unsettling finality as he turned to face Pandora’s clone once more.
The clone’s smirk faltered briefly before returning, his arrogance masking a flicker of unease. “Cute trick,” he sneered, his tone laced with venom. “Let’s see if it keeps you alive.”
In the blink of an eye, the clone teleported, reappearing directly in front of Nihil. The surrounding air warped, reality glitching and stretching unnaturally. Space itself seemed to rebel against Nihil’s presence, twisting into jagged fractures that converged on his body with violent force.
Nihil’s form was torn apart. His body was shredded into bloody chunks, fragments of bone and cloth scattering across the hallway. The pale roses wilted, their petals falling in slow, somber cascades to the floor. Blood painted the walls in grotesque streaks, the remnants of his form lying in a lifeless heap at the clone’s feet.
Pandora’s clone let out a sharp laugh, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Well,” he drawled, kicking a stray piece of Nihil’s cloak aside. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
“Wasn’t it?” came a whisper, soft and chilling, directly into the clone’s ear.
The clone froze, his eyes widening as his smile evaporated. Slowly, he turned his head to find Nihil standing behind him, whole and unscathed. The bloodied remains on the floor dissolved into ash, scattering into the air like a mirage. Nihil’s mask remained as blank and unreadable as ever, his presence radiating an unshakable calm.
“I survived,” Nihil murmured, his voice barely audible but dripping with menace.
For the first time, a flicker of doubt passed through Pandora’s clone. His crimson eyes narrowed, his body tensing as he stepped back. “What… what are you?” he hissed.
Nihil didn’t answer. Instead, his hand raised, and the surrounding air grew heavy, the suffocating weight pressing down like an invisible storm. The hallway trembled, the walls creaking as though they were on the verge of collapse. The pale roses on his cloak began to bloom anew, their soft glow intensifying as Nihil prepared to strike.
“Shall we find out?” Nihil whispered, his calm tone dripping with menace, each word carrying the weight of inevitability.
Pandora’s crimson eyes narrowed, his composure cracking ever so slightly. “Just answer my damn question, you freak,” he demanded, his voice taut with barely restrained frustration.
Nihil tilted his head slightly, his mask catching the faint light, making it seem as though the blank surface was staring straight into Pandora’s soul. “Is the God of Death and Disorder afraid?” Nihil asked, his tone light but cutting. “After having found someone even you can’t kill? How… adorable.”
Pandora scoffed, though his jaw tightened. “Afraid? Hardly. But I won’t deny I’m curious. What are you?”
Nihil chuckled softly, the sound cold and distant, like the faint echo of a tomb closing. “I’m what you might call a regressor,” he said, his voice laced with quiet amusement.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“A regressor?” Pandora arched a brow, his lips curling into a skeptical sneer. “You mean like one of those garbage webcomic plots?”
“Exactly,” Nihil replied simply, his tone maddeningly calm.
Pandora barked a short, humorless laugh. “How quaint. So, tell me, oh wise regressor, what do you claim to know?”
Nihil stepped closer, the faint glow of his pale roses casting an eerie light in the narrow corridor. “For example,” he began, his voice low and deliberate, “I know that after Nikolai succeeds in his plan, you intend to betray him. You’ll kill him, steal his power, and crown yourself as this world’s one true god.”
Pandora’s eyes widened slightly, his grin faltering. “Interesting. Does that mean, in the future, I won?” he asked, his tone feigning nonchalance but betraying a glimmer of eagerness.
“In that future, yes,” Nihil replied smoothly.
“That future?” Pandora pressed, his curiosity sharpening. “What do you mean by that?”
Nihil’s chuckle returned, soft and unnerving. “In another future, your associate Superbia was the victor. However, like the arrogant fool he is, he chose to repeat the game. He wanted to win again.” Nihil gestured vaguely, as if discussing a trivial matter. “This timeline, however, is different. This is the third timeline. And in this one, humanity will survive.”
Pandora’s grin returned, but it was forced, brittle. “How unfair,” he muttered. “No wonder, my dear brother regarded you as his greatest piece for a reason. Tell me, Nihil, just how much do you know?”
“I know about the traitor you’ve placed within A.E.G.I.S’s Clockwork Council,” Nihil said, his voice devoid of judgment. “But don’t worry—I won’t reveal their identity.”
Pandora blinked, his confidence faltering. “W-why? What are you planning?” he demanded, his usual composure slipping into something raw and uncertain.
“Some things,” Nihil said, his voice turning cryptic, “must go as intended. I will allow you to continue your planned attacks. Both the one in March… and on June 20th.”
The calm certainty in Nihil’s tone sent a chill through Pandora, though he masked it with a smirk. “Tell me,” Pandora said, his voice quieter now, his tone shifting to something almost contemplative. “Do you have a sibling? A brother, perhaps? Or someone else you hold dear?”
Nihil tilted his head slightly, the roses on his crown seeming to glow brighter. “I do,” he said, his voice softening, though it remained impenetrable. “And I also know why you’re doing this, Pandora. It’s for your sibling, isn’t it? Everything you’ve done… all of this chaos… is to avenge them.”
Pandora’s eyes narrowed, his mocking demeanor replaced with something raw and unspoken. “Would you do the same?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Would you tear the world apart for them?”
Nihil’s reply was immediate, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “I already have.”
For a moment, the hallway was silent, the weight of Nihil’s words hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to break.
Nihil’s mask turned slightly, his gaze locking onto Pandora. “Now,” he said, his voice steady but brimming with resolve. “To protect them, I must eliminate you.”
Pandora’s grin returned, sharper now, as if it had been forged from his fleeting doubt. He straightened, his crimson eyes blazing. “En garde,” Nihil finished, his words carrying the finality of a death sentence.
The hallway crackled with raw power as Nihil’s halberd materialized in his hands, its shaft adorned with blooming white roses that seemed to pulse with life. Each step he took left a faint trail of petals behind, the air around him shimmering with an aura of inevitability. Without hesitation, he lunged at Pandora, the blade of his weapon slicing through the air with a haunting whistle.
Pandora’s smirk widened as he raised his hand, the space between them glitching violently. “Authority of Error: Error of Space,” he intoned, the air fracturing as reality twisted and bent in defiance of Nihil’s charge.
But Nihil’s calm was unshaken. His halberd struck true, cleaving through the chaotic distortions as though they were nothing more than mist. The blade connected with Pandora’s chest, splitting him in two with a spray of golden ichor. Pandora’s body collapsed, his smirk fading into a grimace of shock.
Yet, before Nihil could take a step back, Pandora’s body glitched unnaturally, the jagged edges of his split form melding together. In an instant, he was whole again, standing tall as though nothing had happened.
“My turn,” Pandora said, his crimson eyes blazing with malice. He snapped his fingers, and Nihil’s body froze mid-motion, glitching violently as tendrils of broken reality wrapped around him. With a sickening crack, Nihil’s limbs were torn apart, his body reduced to a pile of shredded flesh and white roses.
Pandora stepped over the remains, dusting off his coat. “Unkillable, you said? You’re nothing but a—”
The words caught in his throat as the air behind him shimmered, and Nihil reappeared, fully intact. His mask tilted slightly as he whispered, “Surprised?”
Pandora spun around, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second. “Not really,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. “Just impressed you’re as stubborn as I am.”
Without waiting for a reply, Pandora surged forward, his hands crackling with distorted energy. He slammed his fist into Nihil’s chest, the impact sending him crashing into the far wall. The force shattered the stone, but as the dust settled, Nihil’s body pieced itself back together seamlessly.
Nihil stood, brushing off his cloak as if nothing had happened. “Persistence,” he said simply, raising his halberd again.
The two clashed once more, their powers colliding in a storm of roses and chaos. Nihil’s halberd swept in wide, elegant arcs, each strike aimed with surgical precision. Pandora countered with bursts of his Authority, the surrounding air glitching and twisting as he redirected and absorbed Nihil’s blows.
For every wound inflicted, there was no reprieve—both combatants healed instantly, their abilities undoing the damage as quickly as it was dealt. Nihil’s halberd severed Pandora’s arm, but it reattached in a cascade of golden light. Pandora’s counterstrike tore Nihil’s torso in half, only for it to reassemble as if the injury had never occurred.
“Do you tire, Nihil?” Pandora taunted, sidestepping a particularly vicious swing of the halberd. “We could do this forever, you and I.”
“Forever is a small price to pay,” Nihil replied, his voice unwavering. “To ensure you don’t harm the ones I care about.”
The fight escalated, their movements becoming faster, more frenzied. Nihil’s halberd danced with deadly grace, its blade glinting with an otherworldly light. Pandora’s Authority of Error twisted the battlefield, creating glitches and anomalies that Nihil navigated with an eerie calm.
Finally, as the hallway lay in ruins around them, Nihil stepped back, his mask tilting slightly as he regarded Pandora. His voice softened, almost regretful. “It’s time to end this.”
Pandora raised a brow, his grin returning. “And how do you plan to do that, exactly?”
In response, Nihil planted his halberd into the ground. From its shaft, the white roses began to bloom in rapid succession, their vines snaking outward with an unnatural speed. Pandora’s smirk faltered as the vines wrapped around his ankles, tightening with unyielding force.
“What is this?” Pandora snarled, his Authority surging as he tried to disrupt the vines. But they didn’t glitch—they held firm, their glow intensifying with each passing second.
Nihil stepped forward, his calm demeanor unbroken. “These roses,” he said, his voice low and steady, “are made of the memories of each of your sins. Each petal carries the weight of those you’ve harmed, and their will binds you.”
Pandora thrashed, his Authority lashing out in violent bursts, but the roses only tightened their grip, climbing higher until they encased his entire body. “You think this will stop me?” he growled, his voice muffled as the vines constricted around his torso. “I’ll tear these apart like I tear apart everything else!”
“You’ve underestimated the resilience of those you’ve wronged,” Nihil replied. “This isn’t about strength. It’s about consequence.”
With a final surge, the roses bloomed fully, their petals glowing with a blinding white light. Pandora let out a guttural scream as his body collapsed, his energy fading as the roses held him in place.
Nihil stood over him, silent for a moment before kneeling and placing a hand on Pandora’s head. “Rest,” he said softly, his voice almost kind. “You’ve caused enough suffering.”
The hallway fell silent, the faint scent of roses lingering in the air as Nihil straightened and turned toward the unconscious Wallace. The battle was over, but the weight of its implications hung heavy in the ruins left behind.
The air in the office was heavy with the aftermath of the battle, faintly tinged with the scent of roses. Nihil stepped over the debris with practiced calm, his movements precise and deliberate. He approached the void encasing Markus, its surface rippling with the chaotic energy of Pandora’s Authority. Without hesitation, he extended his hands, and the white roses adorning his halberd began to bloom once more, their vines reaching out to wrap around the void.
The energy hissed and crackled as the roses tightened their grip, glowing with a soft yet unrelenting light. Each petal seemed to pulsate with life, pushing back against the void’s darkness. With a sudden, violent crack, the void shattered, disintegrating into nothingness. Markus tumbled to the ground, landing on his hands and knees, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“T-thanks,” Markus muttered, struggling to his feet. His gaze flicked to Nihil, confusion etched across his face. “What’s going on?”
“Noir has attacked,” Nihil said simply, his voice as calm as ever. “However, I need you to remain here. Don’t worry—I promise there will be no casualties.”
Markus’s brows furrowed, his instincts screaming distrust. “And how exactly can I trust you?” he asked, his tone sharp despite his exhaustion.
Nihil didn’t hesitate. Slowly, he reached up and removed his mask. The sight made Markus stagger, his eyes widening as he took in the familiar yet altered face before him. The long white hair, the crimson eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light—it was unmistakable.
“You… it’s impossible,” Markus stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “How is this—how are you—?”
“Do you believe me now?” Nihil asked, his tone unchanged as he returned the mask to its place.
Markus swallowed hard, his mind racing. “O-of course,” he said, still reeling from the revelation. “I just… I don’t understand. How is this possible?”
Nihil inclined his head slightly, as though acknowledging the question but choosing not to answer. “I will need your help in the future,” he said, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible weight of urgency. “When the time comes, I hope I can rely on you.”
Markus’s fists clenched, the weight of the moment grounding him. He met Nihil’s gaze, determination flickering in his eyes. “You can count on me.”
Satisfied, Nihil turned away, his attention shifting to Wallace’s unconscious form slumped against the wall. With careful movements, he lifted Wallace and placed him in a chair, adjusting his posture so he would be comfortable when he awoke.
“Watch over your brother,” Nihil said softly, his voice almost carrying a hint of warmth. “I have more work to do.”
Without waiting for a response, Nihil strode toward the exit, his figure disappearing into the shadows as the faint scent of roses lingered in his wake. The room fell silent, leaving Markus to process the gravity of what had just transpired.
Markus exhaled deeply, his eyes drifting to Wallace. “What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” he murmured, his grip tightening as he prepared for what was to come.