In the dead silence of midnight, there was only a faint noise.
Gusts of wind blew through an open window and those sounds hid the subtle murmurs of anger, confusion, and despair, that aligned with not only the stiff ambience of the room but also its dimness and mood.
Such faded murmurs, hiding myriads of emotions, resonated with the warmth of the candlelight on the wooden desk and the creakings of the wooden floorboards.
Next to the candlelight was a small, brownish map, alongside a newspaper, and this map, unlike the newspaper, was an archaic "artifact" painted long ago. One that spoke of a "foreign world", far beyond the skies and the stars.
Yet, oddly enough, it remained true to the landscape all around, as if the unknown world depicted on this map was somehow similar to the current world, right now.
But, that wasn't a good thing. Not at all.
As the last vestiges of land left of this world, the Grimlands, were now only a darkened shadow, protected under the shade of the "Bloodheart Pillar".
A dark, unknown crimson energy had taken the form of a "tide" and swept the lands, originating from the depths of the world, and shattering the peacefulness of nature that thrived since the Olden Times.
Just then, the murmurs abruptly stopped and were replaced by the words of a mature young man with deep, brown eyes, sitting by the candlelight, who uttered:
"…This doesn't make any sense…"
"…It seems the last hope I had for this world is gone. What a hopeless day it is."
"…According to the newspaper… "The Distortion" has finally destroyed the Bloodheart Pillar, that great monument of magical energy that protected the remnants of the lands."
"This day marks the end of the world, and nobody can do anything to stop it. …Even the "Great Alliance" can't accomplish anything now."
"The Grimlands are doomed." He resigned with a small sigh, leaning on his wooden chair.
"The Distortion has won."
"The Distortion", as he called it, was a tide of crimson and twilight darkness, said to have originated from an unknown place called "The Deepest Void", long before dates and calendars existed. It arose from the depths of the world—and is said to be a curse from a sleeping "Outer God."
The Distortion once swallowed entire continents, and all living beings fought against it in a war spanning many years. Its appearance sent the natural order of the world crumbling and now has shattered everything completely.
"It's all over. With this, the world will be tarnished with blood and flames, through a baptism of ashes and hellfire…"
He inspected the newspaper again, and as he thought, his eyes still weren't deceiving him.
In as big words as anyone could imagine, the newspaper had the words written boldly:
"The Distortion has encroached upon the Bloodheart Pillar. The End is Nigh!"
And, it was so. Without the Bloodheart Pillar, these lands would be obliterated, and the Outer Gods, with "Their" unseen nature, would watch, unshaken. With "Their" control over the divine elements, and, most of all, "Their" almighty hegemony, they couldn't be bothered by much anyway.
"They" were unfathomable beings that existed beyond everything, and "Their" objectives did not necessarily align with those of the living.
The young man sighed.
"Well, it isn't all bad, I suppose... At least I get to die quickly, I guess..."
"…In the confines of this small city…" He said, "Just me… little-old Scott here, dying alone…"
Scott couldn't help but clench his fist in anger as he said that. But, after a moment passed, he suddenly released his fist, and instead, simply decided to go outside, to step out into the streets of Hurgines City one last time.
"Just a brief look…"
As he rose from the wooden chair, he caught a glimpse of his room. Empty. He barely had any time or money to buy decorative items anyway.
"Damn it. This is just making me feel more and more frustrated." Scott muttered, unable to hide it any longer.
He quickly put on an ordinary brown suit and opened his door. And then, as he embraced the frigid and bitter air, for a passing moment, he found it better than being inside the house. Just then, Scott noticed his fellow neighbours also coming out of their homes on this night, just to stare at the stars.
"If I could describe this moment in one word, it would be, simply, boring. A boring, dull end to such a beautiful world, despite its endless faults."
"…I would've spoken a "Final Ode" to Hurgines City, but since the end is nigh, that wouldn't do me any good at all."
To those words, a few of his neighbours glanced at him and shook their heads in unison, a mix of emotions on their faces, before simply staring at the night sky.
It was peaceful.
And then, the myriad of stars above glimmered ominously. Before the sky began to crack and shatter, and somehow, it shattered into millions of fragments that flew across like comets, leaving only the pitch dark of the abstract realms beyond.
Scott felt his heart drop, mumbling, "…It's here already?"
"And here I thought we would have some more time…!"
But, as he stared more closely for a few seconds, not bothering to run away like some others had, he didn't expect ghostly and shadowy apparitions to fall out of the massive void crack in the sky soon after, taking the forms of blackened, inhuman warriors. They were bizarre, and wickedly so.
They pointed their sharpened blades at him and everything else that lived and breathed and said:
"We are the foot soldiers of destruction and reforge. We have come to tell all of you that the Creators have shown you all mercy, just like they have with us."
"Your "deaths" shall lead to a newfound brilliance in your new lives, governed by those blessed, and created by "Them."
"As the heralds of divinity, we, "The Ritualists" that serve the Red and Black, shall lift our swords and renew this pitiable, tarnished earth."
One of them pointed at Scott, before charging at him and striking him clean through the chest. Then followed the same with every other person who had witnessed it happening.
"Wh-why?!" Scott yelled out.
"Do not worry. You shall awaken again with your soul and body intact, in a new world without your memories." The blackened apparition replied.
"That world is "Theirs", so do not dare to disobey "Their" Will, and cast away any memories of this imperfect, tarnished world."
"Or else, you will be smitten with "Retributal Fire of the Karmic Soul", and become one with the Sea of Souls." It said, and a black fire rose from its blade, starting to consume Scott whole. He didn't feel any pain, but instead felt a powerful burden on his soul, that was growing the more the fire consumed him.
This burden was painful, yet relieved him of all the pain and anger he felt at that moment. He was at peace. And, with his life flashing before his eyes, he was reminded of the greatness that his life also held. Greatness that he didn't feel these strange apparitions were taking him to.
So, with all the might he had, he lifted his arm and held the bloodstained black blade, trying to pull it out of his chest and let loose all the emotions and sentiments he had at that moment.
"Y'know what? Fuck you, and your Gods! I'm gonna survive, no matter what. And then, I gonna swear an oath on my very soul, to kill you fuckers, one by one!" Scott roared.
"Blasphemy!" It exclaimed.
However, with a sudden burst of strength, Scott ripped the sword straight out of his chest, and fell to the ground, in a pool of his blood. However, instead of finishing the job, the apparition disappeared, leaving him alone, surrounded only by the corpses of his fellow neighbours.
"…This hurts. This all fucking hurts. I… I don't even care about keeping composed anymore. Fuck you, you damned Gods! I'd swear on my soul again… if I had the strength to…"
He looked towards his chest and noticed that the black flames were still there, and were slowly corroding his left arm, making blackened bubbles form on the surface of his skin.
"…The year is 1897. The month is July. The day is the 21st, and it is roughly midnight currently. I have wondered before if I would ever be able to say this, but…"
"Today is the day that I die."
As he said those words, he closed his eyes and waited for the sweet embrace of death to take him. However, something else was waiting for him to give up.
As the last living being perished just like that, the vestige of a strange existence slowly rose from the depths of the world. The lands and the seas were destroyed, sending memory shards of existence sprawling.
"Another world has been shattered."
"But, with "My" divine element, let me add something… interesting."
The strange existence gazed upon the fragmented soul of a particular human, and touched it, branding it with a "Boon", but, in the process, sending "shards" of his "self" sprawling.
"…This will be one step closer to our "perfect utopia."