“Some say that after that odd, mysterious day in which the sin-eater had stormed the demon infested capital, that the world had actually ended and that this new place that now exists is an odd, dreamlike state of transition. It couldn’t really be a real place, as those voices would state. Because it is so different, so vast, and so entirely void of the anguish of the past era.
Sure, a lot of people are still huge jerks to each other, and there is a lot of fighting, but all of this is contained between the peoples of this world, who have now begun spreading themselves out anew from their containment in the central-city.
Without the Demon-King to guide them, the demonic forces fall apart entirely as soon as the church reveals their scheme and causes a fervent uprising in the human population. Some demons flee, leaving to hide down in the deepest recesses of the world or in their north-western stronghold. There they would try to bide their time, hoping that the Demon-King might return once again to obscure the light of the sun with his great shadow.
Those demons who didn’t flee and were free from any serious crimes find their place in absolution, being redeemed through the church, and finding a real place in society, even if they are still mostly untrusted. All of those who stayed had to take a solemn vow before Bishop Zacaries Montero, swearing on their souls that they ‘wouldn’t be dicks’. Palatinos Salvador runs the operation, keeping a close watch on them all to make sure this holds true.
As for the sin-eater and Alleluia, after the two of them left to go to the throne-room, nobody had seen or heard of them since. Whether they had died together with the Demon-King or whether they had simply left and decided to never come back, nobody can say for sure, as all that was to be found was an empty throne-room behind a large, ornate door.
As for the sins and the burdens of the world, well, they’re the world’s problem now. The age of sin-eaters and of such things has come to an end, and if there are any gods left at all after these many aeons of strife and turmoil, then they simply refuse to get involved anymore and allow the world to run entirely on its own machinations, perhaps having seen the cost of their continued involvement in mortal affairs.
And, though it is impossible to say for sure, as obviously nobody can ever really come back from the dead – the obscurest seers and sages of the oddest and most forgotten towers and houses of the land say that a great magical disturbance has washed over the land, pushing through it once with a great force, like a surge of water pressing through a clogged pipe. The whispers and rumors say that the broken cosmic-system, which none truly knew about before, has now returned to full functionality.
Although, this is all theoretical, of course, and based on a mountain of theories below even those.”
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“Years may come to pass and a great skirmish, the final battle against the demonic foothold in the world, comes to a head at the north-western city, after a siege, led by the holy church, finally brings an end to the horror there and ushering a new era for the species of human-kind.”
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“Even more years pass, an uncertain amount, but a lot of them for sure. The few demons who remain slowly become less and less present as time goes on. Much like the almost forgotten elves and fairies of far, far older generations, they are simply bred out of the time-line by the overwhelming number of humans. Those progeny spread themselves in every direction found on the compass. To the north, to the east, and to the west, they reclaim the ruins of the once great cities there that their forefather’s parents had built.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
And as for the south, for the great sea, which presses against the central giant tree city, a new age of maritime adventure begins to blossom, fueled by the growing demand of the new cities for exotic resources, supplies, materials, and everything else imaginable. A sizable exploratory fleet and then eventually a merchant’s navy begin to form.
It is a prosperous time.”
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“Eventually, only humans are left. Humans and the monsters of the wildlands and the dungeons that have all been restored to their former glory. The wildlands, the humans themselves might have had a hand in, securing large sections of natural forests and designating them as untouchable, having found a way to find balance with the natural world and the spirits that reside within.
As for the dungeons, well, no human really knows how that happened. They had chosen the landmarks out of tradition to build their new cities around, but eventually, after a generation or two, the dungeon-gates just reopened by themselves, thus beginning an entirely new age of adventure.
A clean slate. It wasn’t as ‘good’ as it might once have been in a long-distant era. But, all things considered, it’s pretty good.
Anyways, I’m rambling, guy. Don’t pay any attention to me.”
– Brother turns his head and looks at the surly group of goblins, carrying a stack of bricks down the next flight of stairs.
“Ah, you’re gonna love it here!” says Brother, nodding his head, which has one glowing eye and one ‘new’ old and dried out human eye inside of itself.
“GET BACK TO WORK!” yells a sharp voice from across the room.
Brother yelps, running away. “Don’t mind that,” says Brother a second later. “Mom has a short temper.”
“I’m not your mom! You slacker!” yells the small figure, the dungeon-master of the metaphorical-dungeon, after them.
“Love you, mom!” Brother laughs. “Classic mom,” he says, shaking his head. “Anyways, where were we?” he asks, turning around to look at the chaos. Monsters of all sorts run around, but in an orderly fashion. Goblins are dragging bricks and construction materials around; slimes are wobbling together along the stone floors, burning them smooth with their acid; skeletons are prancing around with brushes, painting the walls with an oddly depressing gray color. “Ah, right!” says Brother, bonking himself on his head. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, right?” he asks, tilting its skull.
“Honeeeeeey!” calls a shrill, female voice from the distance. An elf stands there, far off, looking around the area.
Brother jolts together. “SHIT!” swears the skeleton. “- WE GOTTA GO!” he says, running away before he can be found.
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Later that day, as the reconstruction of the dungeon continues, Brother wanders around a lower floor, near the very bottom of the under-construction dungeon. “Hey guy, you back again?” asks Brother, turning his head to nobody at all. “We’re just about ready for you. Honestly, you can probably come inside now.” Brother turns his head, looking around the chamber that is entirely filled with piping, clockwork, and intricate mechanicals. “Is it ready?”
A strong looking, blond haired man of few words turns his narrowed gaze to look at Brother, but then just nods and returns to his work.
Brother nods back. “The world is pretty different these days. But that’s an ‘upstairs’ problem, you see?” he asks. “Down here. Well, down here everything is the same.” Brother flicks a pipe, listening to the echo carry through it. “The more things change…” he sighs. “– ANYWAYS!” he says, pulling himself together, walking over to a couple heaps in the corner of the underground room. “I’ve been keeping you for too long. This is your metaphor, not mine.”
Brother turns his head, nodding at the dungeon-master, ‘mom’. The dungeon-master scribbles something in a small notepad, and then, a second later, the world goes dark as the things that Brother has been speaking to this entire time vanish.
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Two not human, but also not inhuman, creatures awaken down in the darkest pits of the dungeon, finding themselves in a rather uncomfortable room that both of them, oddly enough, find cozy. It feels almost familiar, as the two entities look at each other, staring through the forest of pipes that they have awakened on either side of.
They’re both squishy, soft things. One is a boy, and one is a girl. But apart from that, the only similarity that they have is a single scar that runs around both of their index-fingers, like a ring.
The two of them meet each other, not knowing who they themselves are, let alone who the other is. But they quickly find that they enjoy each other’s company a lot, and when the pipes make odd, scary noises and one of them can’t sleep, then the taller one sings to him, and when the dungeon feels particularly cold, lonesome, and oppressive, the other one comforts her with warmth and childish games.
In a way, it’s a scary, frightening time. But that’s what makes it oddly memorable and adventurous.
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Eventually, one of the entities stumbles, falling down while they were playing.
His hand catches an odd, short pipe as he falls and pulls it free from the wall.
The other one comes to check on him. But he doesn’t look at her yet. He’s too busy staring at the pipe in his hands. Not knowing what exactly it is that he’s doing, he taps the metal thing against the ground, and his eyes go wide.
– Jumping to his feet, he grabs her and presses his head against her chest.
He closes his eyes to listen.
*Tick*
*Tick*
*Tick*