A Chronometric Defect

I've spent my entire life working in service of our holy state. I've never before seen such a raft of heresy. Dragon God? Pah, I had that mongrel put down like the dog it was.

Indeed, it was my Oplenthiom who killed the Dragon God, not The Purified Heavens. They can take credit, for all I care. The important part is that the great Oplenthiom religious state remains unmarred by blasphemy.

Which is NOT what's currently happening. That damned Chronometric Dragon God, or Pure Evil as it used to be known, has been driving our followers into a sacrilegious tizzy. Personally? I find its latter moniker far more apt. Whatever in our gods' name 'Chronometric' is supposed to mean; it's similarly followed by 'Dragon God.'

Do dragons have a thing for being gods? They are not, and shall not ever, become a god. Not last time— and not this time either. Not as long as I'm here to kill it.

I've already begun with the ceremony to summon down a god's avatar from the heavens. The Purified Heavens, despite its ostentatious name, cannot perform such rites. They treat their Emperor as holy and have forgotten the meaning of faith. They— have been forsaken. Or so I'm told.

"Centrail Primia, your holiness. I bring the holy viewing inscription as you've requested."

"Yes, yes. Put it down over there. I'll know when it's about to start."

I shall. The gods communicate such things with me directly. The gods are, of course, real. Just like this so-called 'Chronomet,' they too once began as mere mortals. Whatever Chronomet thinks he is? He isn't a god. This much is obvious as he hasn't ascended.

"Yes, your holiness Primia."

The man places my inscription slab in the wrong place on my desk. Whatever— I'll tell him to pray harder later. The gods' satisfaction is the only thing I care about.

I glance at the slab.

That slab is a viewing inscription designed to magnify far away occurrences. It's somehow related to another outside of my holy rites chamber, which is where I am. I don't know how it all works, but it's quite necessary.

The man exits the holy rites chamber through a series of interlocking doors.

It's dark in here. This holy rites chamber must always be kept steeped in darkness per the gods' demands. I do not run into things, nor trip and fall, for I must rely on the gods' guidance. If I ever stumble? That is the clearest sign I have been forsaken by their divine Will. It can only mean I have wavered. Which cannot ever happen.

So, whilst I contemplate the gods' Wills, I may only view the outside world through a series of magnified images. They are not fast nor continuous, and so I do not see things clearly or in their entirety. But it is enough that I not stray from the worldly whilst I muse the divine.

An ethereal voice pervades my senses.

"... IT ... is time ..."

I quickly grab the inscription to observe what the gods hath bid I must witness. I inject my Mana.

I see within an image of the dragon flying high in the air. It's illuminated by sunlight, as opposed to my shadowed self. It looks remarkably similar to the evil gods of ages past. Pitch black, punctuated by magma orange and a nasty red. Its orange wings glow slightly in the sunlight, while its black armor and spikes joyously eat the light surrounding it.

Pure Evil, indeed.

###shraaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrr###

#shmkreeeeeeeeeeeeeee#

A cutting roar and a screeching sound invade even the sanctity of my isolated holy chamber.

It DARES tread upon the land of the gods?!

"Sacrilege!"

The image shifts. This time, it shows the dragon emitting a black beam whose height surpasses the dragon's own. I believe the dragon to be around five storeys... I put that beam around eight, eight and a half. Quite large.

The image shifts again. This time, a less magnified view. An enormous black dome has formed upon the beam's impact with the ground. It's akin to the edge of an eclipse devouring the planet. This spans a nation, hm? Quite terrifying.

The image shifts once more. The dragon, Chronomet, is falling from the sky.

Yes. Yes! I comprehend the gods' intentions. It is powerful but fallible.

So long as this 'Chronomet' remains fallible?

It will fall— nay, it must fall.

So it shall.