Epsilon sat alone on a wooden chair. His only source of light was a small candle that glowed dimly on top of a wooden table, but despite it he couldn't even see the walls of the tent he anxiously waited inside.
'How long have I been waiting now? Or are the gods giving me one last chance to change my mind?'
He had steeled himself to do this a long time ago, and he wasn't hesitating. And yet, he felt like he was supposed to be doing something in these short few moments.
'I'm doing this for them. If I don't do this they'll all die. I would betray the whole world for them, so there's no reason for me to feel bad now.'
He had made his choice, so he would stick with it. There was no room for anymore doubt and error.
Minutes passed—though to him it felt like hours stacked one atop another, indistinguishable and endless. His only marker of the time was how much wax of the candle was left, but even then, he couldn't quite believe it.
Eventually, something in his surroundings did change. Where the chair was once empty, a man now occupied it. He just appeared from thin air, as if the world had manifested him into existence once it thought Epsilon had suffered enough.
The man in question was dressed desecrate, with a hood pulled low over his face erasing any hint of who he was, leaving only the glint of his eyes—cold, watchful, calculating. Layers of black leather and strapped Armor clung to him, built not just for protection but for intimidation, a second skin forged in secrecy and violence.
The figure carried no wasted detail: every buckle, every sheath, every holstered weapon had purpose. Across his chest, belts intersected like scars, binding knives and tools to him in a way that made him look less like a man and more like a weapon made flesh.
Making eye contact with him, the man silently nodded. Epsilon reached his hand under the table, before pulling out a scroll wrapped in a seal. He gently put it on the table in front of him before speaking in a low tone.
"Inside is everything I know. From important trading routes to other kingdoms, to our logistics, army, population, key points of interest. Every single secret of my king and his kingdom, is in these documents."
The figure reached his hand over and took the scroll. Unfurling it, the man quickly scanned its contents. As he read, each character began to glow with a faint teal light, making them rearrange themselves into new words. This process repeated several times, until the man finally rolled the scroll back up.
"This will take quite a bit of time to verify. Once the intel is confirmed, your family will be granted protection for what is to come. In the meantime, don't be discovered."
The man arose, and the shadows around him began to stir, but just before he could leave, Epsilon spoke,
"I honestly don't know if what I'm doing is right or wrong anymore."
The man paused. Looking at him now, Epsilons face was caught in a storm of emotions that refused to settle. The corners of his lips bent upward in something that resembled a smile, but it trembled, fragile, more a mask than an expression of joy. His eyes betrayed him—wide and desperate, they shimmered with unease, as though they were pleading for relief while the rest of him tried to play strong.
"I've never been forced to pick between to things that I wanted to protect, so I don't understand how you feel."
As though disappointed, the false smile slowly uncurled into a more neutral look. But still, he carried a faint whiff of uncertainty.
"If I can suggest something, then must it be you to judge your own actions?"
A flicker ignited in Epsilons eyes.
"Sometimes we need another person to tell us if what we're doing is right. Whether it be a friend, a parent, or even the gods."
"Are you suggesting I worship them?"
He just shrugged.
"Everyone follows the gods for their own reasons. They don't usually interfere with us humans, so whether they hear our prayers or not, they don't really care, and yet, people still follow them anyway. I do too."
The man paused as if catching his breathe, before continuing.
"Although they do not interact with us as much as some would hope, they have left us promises. Those are the things people worship, as well as the gods. For war it was life, for Sun it was warmth, and for shadow it is peace."
Hearing all that made Epsilon a little more calm. He too lived like that, except it wasn't the gods he saw that way, it was his king. He followed him for safety, but despite his power he couldn't promise him that anymore. Now he was here committing treason against him.
Shadow god was the god of death, but he was also the god of peace.
"Is death another one of his promises?"
He chuckled.
"No. That is his mercy."
**
Epsilon jolted awake, his chest heaving as if he was surfacing from underwater, but still he could not breathe. Something was wrong, and terribly so. His hands flew to his face clawing at the strange, rigid pressure in his nose. When all was said and done, two black sticks clattered to the floor.
"What the hell is this?"
They looked familiar. Upon picking them up and inspecting them, he noticed the gold engravings that were in a pattern he recognised.
"I'm going to kill him I swear."
Looking around, Epsilon realized he was in the shelter that Anvil and Sylas setup. They all must've dragged him back after waking up.
'They're alive.'
But still, something bothered him.
Something had become obvious to him, and that was how his flaw worked on Nightmare creatures. From what he was able to tell, it hadn't worked on most simply because they were dumb. When it came to his flaw, his morals on what was right and wrong were just as important as the targets.
For example, Epsilon believed killing someone was wrong, but killing someone for the greater good was right. But lets say the target thought that killing someone was wrong, no matter the reason. The end result would a be vision of a sin more in line with the targets.
So what would that mean on a target that barely had a sense of self? Well, the Flaw simply wouldn't activate. There would be no sin to show, because everything they did had no reason, and didn't need one.
However, starting at the class of demons and above, Nightmare Creatures started to gain a sense of self and heightened intelligence. They were able to think about their actions, and how much pain it would cause, with most seeking out to cause more intentionally.
Which was why when he fought the Chimera Mass, he received a vision of it. It killed its sibling out of boredom which it knew was wrong. But it was simply too bored to care, and it even came to enjoy it.
As for the wraith, it was a strange case.
'I was definitely a human. Were nightmare creatures human once?'
Maybe. There were traces of ancient civilizations left in the dream realm, but all their owners were dead, with Nightmare creatures now infesting them. Perhaps the owners never died, they simply became the cancer that now kills the humans of today.
'How did they end up like that? Actually, never mind.'
Getting up, Epsilon looked at the light ahead. It was time to go see the others.