ARC 4: SHACKLED IN CHAINS
Enos stretched out all four of Teviel’s limbs, well adjusted to the body of the Chaos god, like strings pulling at a corpse.
He was quite accustomed to the Chaos god’s body by now. Having morphed with it so long ago, he sometimes forgot that the Ichor thumping through his heart, the hairs sticking up on his nape, and even the taste buds lining his tongue were all the possessions of another man. He floated carelessly through the infinite vacuum of space, a cold chill running gooseflesh up and down his secondhand limbs.
Fractured planets. Burning worlds. He watched, a slight quirk to his ancient lips, at the disarray that so characterised this section of the cosmos. Dying stars threatened to blink out, like old giants going blind, and he felt their precious light immerse his body. Enos may be the only one left to appreciate it.
The gods had done this, he knew. The thought threatened to cast his mind into dark places. He took a deep breath devoid of oxygen, breathing in only Infinity; the building blocks of reality.
Everywhere he flew, it was all the same. Even after millennia, the Celestial War had left its mark on the universe. Ugly scars stained his vision, and Infinity’s masterpiece had been shattered. Like children disobeying their benevolent parents, the gods had seen it fit to cast creation into chaos.
Chaos. Enos suppressed a laugh. Now he had the gods’ greatest tool to himself. The irony never failed to amuse.
Enos closed his eyes, looking at a thousand places at once. There was so much to do. Plans to move into motion, deep desires he had to execute — most of all, justice to carry out.
One sensation hit his senses like a freight train. Like a piece of string connected to his skull abruptly splitting. Enos’ eyes snapped open, and he honed in on one spot. One tiny pinpointed section of Descent. There, with utter clarity, he saw it: a corpse. The mutilated, dispersing body of none other than the Pet-Keeper.
Enos paused. Again, he inhaled, expanding lungs that didn’t require the air they lacked.
Like pawns in a chess game, Nova was his only remaining piece. How many generations of Right-bearers must he stir into the world, before they were finally strong enough to survive?
Belindo, Milap, the Supreme Fiend, and now even his ace in the hole, a being who should have been unkillable, the Pet-Keeper. All dead. All dust to soon return to Infinity, to be spun again into the canvas of creation.
Nova. That was all he had left. An embarrassed God-Graced forced into hiding.
Enos should have been furious, but emotions were something he had absolute control over. His mind was like a machine; ticking away like clockwork to find the most efficient solution to any issue set before him. How best could he serve his grandmaster, his reason for existence, Infinity?
How best could he carry out her will? How best could he vanquish the evils plaguing the universe, to be the vaccine to the disease of humanity, and their petty gods?
His eyes settled onto the fiery visage once again. Planets sunk into black holes who knew how many lightyears away, and the fire the deities had started rampaged on inexorably.
So much destruction. Enos couldn’t fathom how beings of Infinity could be so uncivilised. And to think this was the first life brought into the universe.
Slowly, as if moving a mountain range, Enos turned his head at an angle. Behind his shoulder, tens of thousands of Unbounded stretched out.
A wall of living, writhing flesh. His minions approached at a steady speed, hovering through space, drops of multitudinous colour on an inky backdrop. As if someone had retched over charcoal. They varied greatly in species, all pushing the limits of how far a body can be distorted, and yet still sustain life. In Enos’ eyes, at least, their beauty was unparalleled.
Thousands, if not hundreds of fiends, and yet this was just a drop in the ocean, compared to the full ranks of the Unbounded. Try as they might, the gods would never be able to slaughter them all. Infinity would keep creating as many Unbounded as it would take. Like an immune system pumping out antibodies, the universe was desperately trying to cure itself of corrupt divinity.
Enos was akin to an intergalactic general. Unbounded were attracted to the power he emanated, no matter how much he tried to veil himself. And when he actively called for them to gather? Enos would be a beacon to their senses, like mortal eyes forced to stare at the sun.
He commanded them to a halt. All it took was one simple manipulation of Infinity, a signal engraved into life itself, and they froze. Thousands of eyes met his. Some would be too weak to see him from this distance. All they would feel was his raw, indomitable might, exuding strength.
Strength was admired. Strength was really all it took to lead the simplest of peasants; the wisest of kings.
Now, he waited.
It may take the equivalent of hours in Descent time, before one of them arrived. Enos was playing it risky here, literally guiding the gods to him. It was a real possibility that multiple of them would gather together, and pounce.
But even before the power of his Divine Rights had been returned to him, Enos had been a powerful Unbounded. Perhaps the strongest. He could escape from even three gods all scrambling for his head, though he would sustain some injuries in the process.
That would need to be avoided. Even he would have to take some time to heal from those kinds of wounds, and there was always the risk of being permanently maimed. As much as from even the pits of his stomach, he hated the gods, their power wasn’t to be taken lightly.
But this was a ploy he was willing to take. He needed to do something drastic. Enos refused to take the murder of his newest generation of Right-bearers sitting down.
More and more Unbounded joined the fray. If some nearby, roaming deity didn’t recognise his presence now, then the only other possibility was that he was being schemed against.
Enos didn’t grant himself the weakness of growing anxious. Even if five or so gods jumped out at him, he would give them a good fight. In that instance, he could escape if he fought tactically, but his odds of slipping away in one piece were astronomically low. Scars littered Enos' body from his more spontaneous youth. Back when he was much weaker, less aligned with the purpose Infinity had set for him, and was always spoiling for a fight.
The god equivalent smiled. He hadn’t attempted anything this rash since those bright-eyed days. The rush of adrenaline was almost nostalgic.
Nevertheless, he'd never lost anything vital from an injury, and wasn’t inclined to start now. He focused one hundred percent of his attention on the scene around him, forgoing anything else that could snag his focus. If something approached, he would be the first to know.
Or at least, he had thought so.
One blink cost him hundreds of Unbounded.
Yellow erupted in his vision, his retinas spasming behind his overworked eyes. It had been so quick. What could have possibly-
All thought left Enos, as he dodged what should have been a surefire blow. It was the quickest dodge he had ever made. Before he could even contemplate on who his attacker was, his body twisted in an intricate dance, defying time and space to avoid a flurry of blows. Never in Enos’ life had his body moved so fast, and yet he was barely avoiding the rampant strikes.
One second in, and Enos was already on the backfoot. His enemy was enveloped in a torch of amber, white light slipping out from them in streaks of lightning. Alexander, the Lightning god, immediately sprang to mind, but something told Enos this wasn’t him.
He’d encountered that deity before, and while they were fast, this was something else all together.
Armour sprouted on Eno’s body in a flash, the quality of Supreme Steel exceeding the best on any of Descent’s shores. He would need it, else the next flurry of blows might really pose a challenge.
Every punch, kick, or whatever attacks were being thrown at him, sent his skeleton rattling. He needed to create distance.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Enos didn’t bother to weave Infinity into weapons, he simply imbued it with the intent to kill.
No Ichor had been shed, but that was soon to change. It was time to tap into Teviel’s power. The full influence of Chaos rushed through Enos, and suddenly the two of them were dragged into the river of blood the dead Unbounded had created. Enos didn’t feel any pity for their swift deaths. It would be the greatest honour of any fiend’s life to die in his name.
He tapped into the Infinity of the blood, all different shades, so it was as if they were falling through a liquid rainbow. He remoulded their bodies into weapons. Skeletons became halberds, knives, and anything with a sharp point. The blood that soaked them both became a tangle of rose thorns, pressing into even Enos' skin, and any spare organs floating around erupted in a flash of gore.
The disruption was all Enos needed to drag himself away. He commanded the surviving Unbounded to sacrifice their lives to slow down the nameless god, but he knew they would save him milliseconds at best.
He returned to real time for a second, and the aftermath of their brief tousle played out. At the speed they were battling, perhaps one second, or two had passed, and even Enos was aghast at what they had accomplished. Though he was a little reluctant to call it that.
Three nearby planets exploded, pieces of rock, entire countries large, blasting off in crumbles. The rest of his Unbounded forces perished in a flash of light, and smoke billowed off Enos' skin. He had enough time to sweep the dust off his shoulder, take one look at the deity trying to tear him apart, before the battle began anew.
There were many gods, some of them very distinct, but Enos had worked out very quickly who this was. Java, the Speed god, was the only deity who could travel this fast.
Every muscle in Enos ached. Lactic acid bubbled in every fibre, and his mind roared in agony at having to think so fast. He could keep up with the Speed god for perhaps ten seconds at best. After that, he would be exhausted. Enos’ fate in that outcome was not a pleasant one.
Ten seconds. Enos took a deep breath, and charged to face Java.
Ten seconds, and one more wretched god would be dead.
The Speed God may have been fast, but Enos knew the known weaknesses of every god like the back of his hand. Java was nigh impossible to hit, but if you managed it, a weak God-Graced would be enough to knock his lights out forever.
Enos just had to get close enough.
He zapped forward, harnessing Teviel’s power like the helping hand of an old friend — or perhaps a hostage that had developed Stockholm's syndrome. Enos was face-to-face with Java, the god’s fist blurring past his head, still heading towards his original location. Enos almost fumbled inside the hook, he was so excited. This was it, his chance to gut Java with one well-aimed blow. Enos watched Java’s eyes widen in a fraction of a fraction of a second, so fast he doubted he even saw it, before the Speed God rushed away in his own flash of light. Nova’s own prepared blow found no purchase, and Enos swallowed down a curse.
A fist dug into Enos’ stomach. Enos keeled over, a hole burnt into his armour, and charring his skin. Another flash of purple sent him to safety.
Multiple times in quick succession he was forced to teleport away from similar encounters. Anger and fear radiated out of Java. Enos had come too close to dealing a serious blow, and now the Speed Deity wasn’t holding anything back. Aggression was the tool with which he would chisel Enos’ gravestone.
Eight seconds.
Enos teleported them both into an asteroid field. The remains of the lifeless planets the pair of them had shattered in their wake. Enos felt compassion for the shattered worlds in his heart, but while Enos destroyed for the greater good, the gods destroyed for power. They were not even remotely the same.
Enos hopped from asteroid to asteroid, each erupting with the speed and force upon which he landed on them. Java had been struck by one of the flaming rocks, surprised by their abrupt transportation, but mere rock was barely enough to startle a god.
Soon the pair of them were darting off rock after rock, each trying to close in on the other.
Six seconds.
Enos felt the toll on his body expand. He would have been wise to write this off as too risky, and yet emotion had driven him to such an extreme decision. He screamed with breathless lungs, the sound too delayed to hear until he returned to real time.
He focused hard on Java, tightening the Infinity around the god to slow him down. If it had any effect, Enos could hardly tell.
Before Enos knew it, he was on the backstep from another fruitless wrestle. No matter how many punches or kicks either of them threw at the other, the most they could do was bruise.
Enos was well aware the gods’ powers overlapped often, but Java was more lightning-like than Alexander, the god carrying that title, could ever hope to be.
Five seconds.
In one moment of panic, Enos harnessed all of his raging emotion. He had to slow down the Speed God. Java was faster than him, but if he could just make up the difference . . .
His control over Infinity was never something to scoff at. Enos refocused every iota of will he had on solidifying the Infinity around Java. The god would feel like he was running through sludge with weights on.
This would half his remaining time, drawing his point of exhaustion closer, but Enos had to push harder.
Two seconds.
Enos teleported behind Java, forcing the power of Chaos into overdrive. Reality around them spasmed, trembling as every atom was rearranged in an organised chaos. What would give first, his power, or space itself, Enos could never be sure.
He grasped out for Java’s throat. He finally had the upper hand — the Speed god was teleported back into the same spot by Chaotic power every time he tried to flee. Yet all credit to him, the deity didn’t relent. His eyes were wide, and looked like they never would close, as he jerked around in the little space he had.
The more Java evaded Enos’ reaching hands, the more exasperated Enos felt himself growing. His body felt like it would explode from the pressure any second now, and Java, somehow, seemed aware he only had to hold on a little longer. Like a man hanging from a cliff, he was gripping on for dear life.
It was dawning on Enos that he really could die here. That not even he was immune to being scattered back into the Infinity that sustained him. He was only just reaching the bottom of his feelings on the topic when his hands found leverage.
Enos’ fingers twisted around Java’s neck, and it was over.
They returned to real time, the whiplash enough to make Enos retch, had he not been so preoccupied. The power they’d unleashed rushed out, blasting out for miles and miles of empty space. Nothing could have survived the clash between two gods.
If anything had remained of those fiery planets when Enos had first arrived, they’d be lucky to have a few atoms remaining now; the rest scattered to who knew what reaches of the cosmos. Everything had been purged.
If he didn’t extend his senses past the hundred or so space-miles that encompassed them, Enos could have fooled himself into thinking that only he and Java existed. Java’s snapped neck rested in Enos hands, but futilely, the god twitched in his hold.
Currents of electricity whizzed up Enos’ arms, burning his flesh as Java did everything in his power to escape certain death. It was strange. He was a blur in Enos’ hold, but no amount of struggling could free Java from the hands of his executioner.
Before Java could so much as screech for help, Enos embedded his fingers deep into the god’s neck.
Ichor dripped out of the holes he created, each Droplet so concentrated, they could generate armies of Enkindled. Some strange look stuck in Java’s bulging eyes, yet still, neither of them bothered to exchange words.
As Java perished in his arms, Enos wondered — what would the dying thoughts of a god be? Would it be of his clan? Concern for their safety, now that the source of their power had been flickered out? Or would the inner desires that ruined so many deities characterise even his final moments? Would Java be furious, as he slipped out of this life, that he had failed to lay claim to all the Infinity that existed? That was the ultimate goal, for his kind, was it not?
The notion was ridiculous. How every god truly believed that they, and they alone, could take total reigns of the universe, was laughable. Not even Enos would dare ask for so much.
The Celestial War would have no end unless somebody intervened. Infinity wasn’t something that could be owned; only borrowed. Even Enos would have to surrender himself back to the universe one day, but not yet.
His part in things was only just beginning.
Without hesitating, and only when he was absolutely sure Java was dead, Enos used the remainder of his strength to warp himself out of there. In a way, he was lucky that it was Java who had come after him. A battle with any other deity wouldn’t have been so quick. Even in those twenty or so seconds, an entire squadron of gods would be rushing to overwhelm Enos.
Enos wasn’t one to flee, but the death of a deity would not be taken lightly. Every god would be vying to be the one to end him. Great Infinity, they had already been. This would only add fuel to the fire. Revenge for Java would rally vast forces against him. Enos needed to recover. He hadn’t been this badly shaken from a battle since . . . since . . .
Memories of merging with Teviel’s bloody corpse flooded his mind again. It was a staple of his daily thoughts, the rush of his first time killing a god indescribable.
The same sensation flooded through Enos now, older and wiser as he was. He felt light, all his worries seemed insignificant, and for each problem he had been previously agonising over, a clear path forward presented itself. Now, he knew exactly what to do.
Powerful as he was, Nova was the last piece of a failed plan. Clutching onto him with blind hope that he would succeed, even after this recent string of disasters, was akin to staying put in a burning house. Enos needed innovation. Even as he rushed thousands of lightyears away with every passing second, pushing his cardio to the limits, that much was certain.
New beginnings. Neurological pathways came ablaze in his wild nexus of a mind, and a fresh plan presented itself to him, as if by divine intervention.
It was time for the Final Generation.
Nova focused his gaze on Descent. A planet protected by the power of nearly every deity, and perhaps the only world the gods would hesitate to crush into ash.
Now, now. Enos thought, smiling wide in manic delirium, there must be one of you I can use.
He reached out with his power, creeping down into Descent.