Michael stood distraught as He shattered before his very eyes—six fragments scattering across existence. One was stolen. Five remained.
The other Primordials arrived at the Apex of Hope, alarmed.
"I felt darkness surging," one said. "We came to assist, Michael."
They found him on the ground, surrounded by shards of glass—fragments of Him. Peace stepped forward, peering down at Michael with wide, terrified eyes. Chaos rushed over, whole and silent. He looked at the others, and then at the fragments.
Finally, with trembling breath and a voice soaked in sorrow, Michael spoke.
"HE is gone."
A heavy silence fell. Every heart dropped. Sadness swept through the realms, echoing across all existence. On this day, even eternity wept.
Time passed.
Eventually, Michael called the others once more.
"He left a legacy," Michael said. "Six fragments of himself. They were meant to complete his work."
Faith looked around.
"But I count only five," she said.
Michael's face darkened.
"The Void took one."
Chaos, enraged, stormed up to Michael.
"How could you let this happen?" he roared. "How do we retrieve it now?"
Michael met his fury with a cold, weary gaze.
"We can't. HE sealed the Void from the other side. Only He can open it."
Faith, deeply troubled, asked,
"But if the Void has a fragment of Him, couldn't it use that to reopen the veil? From what you've told us, the darkness is growing... evolving—just like He once did."
Peace added,
"And if the Void is part of Him, even if severed, it could channel the fragment and return."
Michael shook his head.
"No. The Void can no longer touch Eden or the universe. That was His final command."
Hope let out a breath of relief.
"Then even with the fragment, it can't cross the veil anymore?"
Michael nodded.
"Yes."
"But now we face another challenge," he continued.
"These fragments... they're gaining consciousness. And with the power they hold, we must guide them, teach them how to wield it."
Greed spoke next.
"From what I've seen, the consciousness inside each fragment is like that of a baby—newborn, unformed."
Sadness nodded.
"And humans seem capable of nurturing that child's nature. Their influence can shape the fragments—build their character."
Hope's eyes lit up.
"So if we raise them properly, they could one day take His place."
"But who will raise them?" Discord asked.
All eyes turned to Michael.
He bowed his head, solemnly.
"I will. It was the last work He gave me."
From a dark corner, a voice echoed,
"I think we're forgetting to address the elephant in the room."
Everyone turned.
It was Lust.
Happiness narrowed her eyes.
"And what, pray tell, do you mean?"
Lust stepped forward.
"If everything we've said is true, then the stolen fragment—the one in the Void—will also awaken. It too will become a child. But that child will be raised in darkness. The Void will shape its mind. And when it matures, the veil won't stop it. Not if it chooses to return."
She paused, letting the thought sink in.
"What if it comes back poisoned? What if it returns... for vengeance?"
Michael's face betrayed a deep, quiet fear.
"There is nothing we can do now," he said.
"When the bridge comes, we shall cross it."
And so, each Primordial returned to the furthest corners of the universe, carrying heavy hearts and uncertain futures.
Present Time
Michael stood beneath the stars, the weight of millennia upon his shoulders.
"The bridge has come," he thought. "Let us see how perilous it truly is to cross."