Lord Of The Mysteries: A Slug of Time

The Longest hour, the brightest night.

The Crimson shone bright, brighter than ever, casting its light across the lands, tainted, untainted, restraining, overflowing, providing life to otherwise barren lands. The entire sky was crimson today, overpowering even the glow of the countless stars that made up the starry night sky.

In the most distant horizon, just outside the Sanguine city of crimson, stood a beautiful feminine figure, her long black hair fluttering about, while her crimson blood eyes reflected the entire landscape. The Women, The Sanguine Queen Auernia, stood, motionless, wearily looking ahead of "Her", observing the thick white fog rising towards the sky, reaching an inconceivable height.

It was like a wave on land, Apocalypse, Chaos, curse, chained; all these concepts fused with this relentless Fog of War, cursing the land, igniting the air, birthing endless, innumerable disaster at its wake, a catastrophe that was to sweep away the Moon City, to conquer and end all Sanguines.

Auernia silently observed the approaching Wave of Primordial Chaos, making out numerous shadows that were poking through its thick exterior, all featuring varying sizes. Eventually, the wave settled, halting, appearing like a large wall of fog. The ground began to shake, clouds enveloping the sky, ever so slightly dampening the crimson illumination. 

The shaking ground developed into a massive earthquake, cracks began to develop in the land as molten lava erupted, before the very land split apart into two, creating a massive tear between the Fog of War and the Goddess of Beauty. 

Almost instantly, the latter raised "Her" hands, and a clap resounded. Innumerable Door of Summonings instantly took shape, each engraved with a unique strange mysterious symbol. These Doors creaked open with Sanguines and Vampires flew out of them, each overflowing with spirituality, being further strengthened by the Crimson. 

In just a few moments, surrounding the Sanguine Queen, was an army of Sanguines and Vampires, some floating in the air with their massive vampiric bat wings, others standing on the ground readying themselves with their fangs and corrosive claws bared.

A black fog began to envelop the area, covering every inch of the land, even creaking within the white wall of fog that stood motionless. There wasn't a sound made the entire time, the creaking of the ground, the occasional flash of lightning and the opening and closing of doors were the only noise that filled the surrounding.

Slowly a figure walked out of the wall of fog, a 50 feet tall giant with a blazing skull and a sharp protruding tail at his back, his body covered in steel armour. "It's finally time, goddess of beauty." A sharp heavy voice sounded carrying with it, an extreme aura of supremacy, immediately conquering many of the sanguines. 

The Goddess of Beauty, Sanguine Queen, Auernia did not speak instead opted to deeply stare at the God of War. Silence once again enveloped the place, as the bringer of War, and the Queen of Crimson deeply stared at each other. The temperature slowly began to rise before eventually shooting up. 

"I'll tell you something, this is the longest war I have fought in my life for never having my adversaries lasted this long. Shame it will end here today." In a mocking tone, the God of War conjured a giant purple blazing sword, pointing it at Auernia as the ground began to shake again. 

Molten lava and steel erupted from cracks again, forming giant pillars extending towards the sky, the weather began to change as dark clouds quickly gathered, dampening the glow of crimson, lighting streaked across as calamities took form, while the wall of Fog began to inch closer to the Sanguines. Zombies, werewolves, wraiths, ancient banes, warlocks, calamity, apocalypse, hell itself broke loose, as the fog of war flattened and spread itself outwards, stretching onto the entire battlefield and beyond, covering even the moon city, conquering the doors of Summonings as well as every creature, dead or not. 

Sanguines did not stand on ceremony, as Auernia conjured massive vampiric wings and flew up into the sky, crimson erupting from her beautiful body stirring the spirituality of each and every being, powering the Sanguines, depleting the Mutants. The black fog enveloped spread outwards creaking within the fog of war, providing vitality to the Sanguines, blessing them with new life. 

Eventually, the two sides clashed, and the final war commenced. 

…

Far away from this battlefield, from the eastern continent, in the distant vast ocean lay, both submerged and above, a majestic ancient palace, its blue texture reflecting the ocean that laid beneath it as well as the clear sky above the dark clouds. It extended towards the sky, reaching an inconceivable height, and submerging down in the ocean, seemingly reaching the planet's core. 

At the very top of the majestic bluish palace, far above the skies, was, a bluish throne with streaks of lightning accentuating it's appearance, at the throne sat, a man wearing a simple loose robe, his ears pointy, his thick hairs a mix of black and blue, his facial features were rather soft. 

His deep sea blue eyes gazed at the vast ocean and dark clouds creaking with lightning striking across, while the thunderous spear that leaned at his arm rest shook continuously. Wind blew fluttering his mixed hair, as well as his loose robes, yet the man did not blink instead, his expression subtly changed. 

Suddenly, he lifted the thunderous spear, raised it in the air before striking it down. Immediately thunder roared, countless lightning streaks sparked the sky, their end reaching one spot in the sky. The man's gaze narrowed while his lips curled up into a twisted smile, a grin embodying madness. His figure itself began to radiate an immense feeling of tyranny, an aura of supremacy and dominance, striking extreme fear in the very heart of every creature. 

"You have some guts coming here!" Thunder roared once more, as the sea below began to shake, rising, and churning into an enormous figure with a hazy face and two large hands. It rose and rose reaching the skies, standing higher than the very palace of blue, acting as the shadow of the Tyrant. 

Suddenly, a growl resounded, penetrating even the ear shattering sounds of thunder. The Tyrant only grinned wider as "He" began to fly, holding another lightning spear "He" had made, as more enormous figures akin to the one behind the tyrant rose up from the sea, while the palace of blue began to be submerged within the ocean, eventually completely disappearing within the blue. 

A thickish white fog began to fill the air, as the Tyrant grew in intensity , "His" pearly ocean blue eyes reflected a figure. From the depths of the sea of collective subconscious, departing from illusory clouds and the City of Livesyd, emerged an Omniscient Visionary. A white dragon with golden scales at "His" body and massive wings, its span seemingly enveloping the world, while "His" eyes green with tints of gold, carrying a boundless sense of calm, wisdom and collectivism. 

"His" appearance and the very reflection of "His" figure could wash over once worries, savour their moods, anchor their consciousness, relieve them from insanity, expose all secrets, and see everything that could be seen and experienced. Even the Tyrant wasn't an exception as an extreme sense of calm and weariness washed over "His" madness and excitement, while "He" felt "His" consciousness slowly departing from this world appearing at the bottom of a large coral mountain with deep thunderous noises echoing behind "Him" and a thick white fog that enveloped "His" sanity as well as the whole mountain before "Him". 

But, almost instantly, "His" grin remained wide at this exposure of sanity, as "He" subconsciously struck "His" spear on the air like solid ground, with blue streaks of thunder immediately erupting and covering the whole area, "severing" everything, yet not a single one made contact with the Visionary as they were fully exposed to "Him". 

The Tyrant felt "His" consciousness return to "His" body, and immediately conjured a giant storm enveloping everything in the surroundings, even the visionary dragon, while the enormous giants closed in. Now at the eye of storm, the Tyrant and Visionary Dragon locked gazes with each other, one's expression twisted indescribably, while the other remained calm. 

"To think you'd directly confront me? Has your supposed 'Omniscience' finally been breached? Or did you envision a future where I turn you into a lizard skewer." The Tyrant uttered in a mocking, and taunting tone, seemingly having an effect on the calm visionary, as "His" expression ever so slightly displayed annoyance. However, "He" recovered with a smile, while "His" colossal wings flapped, sending invisible ripples around. 

"Your tone hasn't changed in centuries." The Dragon of Imagination paused, letting a virtual persona delve into the sea of collective subconscious. "As for why I appear before you, it matters not to have an unstable existence as yourself. ." 

"Oh? Fascinating. However, your eyes aren't the only ones special" The Elf King squinted "His" gaze at the opposing Deity, who remained composed. "Like that virtual persona you just sent into the sea, or the fact that the Ankewelt before me has been 'Imagined'." 

The second he spoke, the sea of Collective subconscious moved and Ankewelt's virtual persona was immediately vapourized. It had been baited to walk directly into a trap!

The concept of "Sea" was naturally within the grasp of this Tyrant, causing both "He" and the Visionary to wrestle control over this mysterious realm.

"... Or, maybe something else?" Soniathrym's eyes twitched as he observed Ankelwelt who remained impassive. 

The Elf King's expression seemed to shift multiple times at once, while the Dragon of Imagination silently watched, observing every detail. After some time, Soniathrym's grin returned as he mentioned, "Is Kvastir's plan so full proof that you had to come and face me?"

"He" immediately waved "His" free hand, adding, "No need to waste your breath, for once, I'll play your 'staring' game. Let's see who falters first."

Ankewelt looked at this elf for a moment, before sighing, "Your queen has been very kind to you."

"Hehe, if my impulses didn't take over each time I witnessed your delicious appearance, I would have presented you to someone."

"I have no intention of becoming pregnant," Ankelwelt immediately knew who "His" sworn enemy was referring to. 

These two divine figures remained floating in the air, chatting like they were long lost friends each holding sharp daggers behind their backs.

…

The Crimson moon was bright.

Its radiance stretches across plains over plains, illuminating every creature, every prospering and decaying land, filling it with vitality, stirring spirituality, providing a maternal embrace to all that laid bare in front of it.

But today, it did not shine bright to prosper the lands, instead it shined to illuminate an ongoing war, a battlefield ridden with blood, flesh, suffering, agony of its kins. It shined, illuminating the cycle of death and rebirths, a Sanguine dying on the battlefield, fighting for its race against the wretched mutants that had waged war on their land, bringing with themselves calamity, destruction, despair, apocalypse. 

Once he achieved his purpose, reaching the end of his long life, he returned to his mothers embrace becoming an infant once more. Growing in the packet of flesh, gaining vitality and strength, as the blessings of life were bestowed upon him. 

Eventually as happened to all, he too would have to leave his mother's embrace, to fight along many more like him, to fight for his mother and the greatest ancestor. For only when this war concluded, would he truly find eternal solace, being able to rest forever in the warm embrace of the mother, bathed in the spirituality of crimson. 

Thus, he walked out of the door of Summoning, raising his head, he looked over at the gigantic Crimson Moon, covering the entire sky. Raising his hands up in the air, he felt the sensation of a cold touch, a gentle feeling washed over him as the crimson moon itself slowly descended from the sky, so low to the point where one could even touch its surface should they gain a bit of height from the flattened, cracked ground. 

Within a singular moment, thousands of explosions occurred, killing almost the entire Sanguine army instantly, returning them to the great embrace of a mother. Yet, as it always happened, the doors of Summonings creaked open, the sanguines walked out. 

A sigh parted from the great symbol of Iron and Blood. The God of War bore witness to every scene of the battlefield, using "His" analysis to come to the conclusion that neither of the sides were flattering, holding their own in this battle. Should things continue like this, victory was far-fetched, if not impossible. 

That would have been the case if?

Encircling the giant crimson that departed from the skies, descending to the ground, were thorny, translucent chains crackling, and swaying far away from the battlefield. An ancient, dark figure cloaked with a black cloth stood chained to the ground, its appearance inconceivable to anything and everything with the only makeable feature were the innumerable chains and thorns that erupted from his body, chaining everything in "His" surroundings, light, darkness, life, death, souls, even the concept of decay was chained. 

This caused suffering, suffering to the once prospering life that was this land, the suffering this figure accumulated causing the thorny chains that bound and pierce "Him" to tighten further, drawing out bright red blood that seeped in the lands, reflecting the crimson glow. 

The Crimson moon that had descended from the sky slowly began to make its way towards this figure, ignoring the thorny chains that constantly made contact with its surface. The indescribable figure simply remained chained at "His" spot, not bothering to move, patiently waiting while chaining "His" overflowing spirituality, as well as the constant new life that was formed in "Him". 

A Divine Battle was to commence. This naturally meant the other deities found their focus settled on it. Thus, descended a timeless, and digital Twilight from the furthest edges of the continent, harbouring a small portion of the sky, and encroaching into the spirit and to the astral worlds, as it gazed over at the battlefield, then at the crimson moon and the chained figure. 

Simultaneously, the twilight took note of another gaze that had graced or perhaps disgraced this beautiful symbol of war and violence. The vitality, this once prospering land had gained through the blood that had seeped in its molten cracks, instantly perished. Everything, dead, undead, alive or nonliving, object or creature suddenly entered an Eternal Slumber. With their essence "wandering" through mysterious realms and into the depth of the underworld. 

Death had settled "Her" gaze, resisting the primordial urge to fully open a "Door" and enter the battlefield. "She", of course, took note of "Her" enemy, yet surprisingly neither of them attempted to approach one another, or to ensue a fight of their own. 

The battlefield did not sway, completely ignoring the twilight and death that had settled their gazes. Even the Crimson Moon, the Chained figure, the Sanguine Queen, the God of War, did not take note of their gazes, nor did they take note of the two figures that stood far away from this battlefield, having witnessed everything that has happened in this war through a simple spell made by the Sun God. 

One, a man in black armour with red long hair, complimenting "His" looks. Another man with raven black hair and dark eyes, dawned in a simple black robe, half "His" figure I shrouded in shadows that lurked the figure of each and everyone. 

"… This is torture"

"Orders."

"This is torture and you can not convince me otherwise! I am a Warlock, a "WAR"lock and I can't jump into a war!"

"Yes you can't. It will only make things troublesome and mess with the lord's envisioned path."

"Ghhhh."

Gritting "His" teeth, the Red Angel Medici looked away at the empty sky, making the expressions of a mad child. The Dark Angel completely ignored "His" fellow angel's sentiment, keeping "His" gaze fixed at the god of war, who had moved from "His" position, approaching the Sanguine Queen. 

It's about to commence. 

"He" moved his gaze, shifting it towards the morphing image of the moon, a shadow of a large mountain range that lurked at its feet. Thousands, possibly millions of chains binded the giant monstrosity, yet seemingly having no effects on the crimson moon as a humanoid figure slowly began to take form. 

Indeed it is. 

Within the astral world, Grisha silently ruminated to himself, gazing at the real world below. A sigh parted "His" lips as "He" moved "His" gaze towards a certain point in the distant land, taking note of an approaching new army soon to be a part of the grand "Show" that was to take place. 

Suddenly, "He" smirked, as "He" conjured a book in his hands, its cover made of brass and copper, while its page, goat parchments. Grisha lifted "His" hand as "He" opened the book and began to turn its page, "His" eyes resting and reading the contents as he did so. 

"The Annihilation Demonic Wolf will take the provocation from 'Sefirah Castle's' proxy very seriously. Thus, "He" would gather an army with "His" God of Death and God of Miracles and approach Moon City. It is a reasonable development."

Grisha conjured a quill of white feather as "He" breathed out a sigh and began to write:

"The Annihilation Demonic wolf will approach the Sanguine Ancestor and the Mutant King."

"He" paused for a moment, before adding. 

"It is a Reasonable Development."

Both the book and the quill disappeared as Grisha took a step back, resting "His" gaze back at the real world, noticing the Evernight Demonic wolf slowly approaching the Crimson Moon and the Mutant King. 

"He" smiled. A happy smile. 

…

"Has it finally commenced?"

Sitting in a simple room, Klein uttered out loud, holding in his hands a porcelain teacup. He took a sip and relaxed himself on his chair, having long thrown away his coat, as he lifted both of his legs resting them on a stool. 

He took another sip from his tea, while closing his eyes, as if in deep thoughts. 

Amanises…