Death: Genesis

The pools of the Crimson Spring stirred, sending ripples through the steaming water. But there was no one there to see it. No one but the enormous, metal man at its center, and he could see nothing. Nor could he hear. Blind, deaf, and dumb, he didn’t even know his name.

And yet, there was a spark. A memory. A world torn asunder by an eternal war between entities too powerful to comprehend. From that terrible memory grew awareness, and from that awareness came a return to sapience. It was no quick process. Indeed, it felt as if it took years. Yet, persistence was easy when one knew nothing else. When one had nothing else.

Zeke opened his eyes, and for the first time in what felt an eternity, he saw. Tears of joy dragged their way down his cheeks. Not because he lived again, but rather, because he finally knew his path. He knew what awaited him. And he knew precisely how he was meant to get there. There was happiness in that, especially when he’d spent much of the past few years – indeed, ever since he’d been reborn – mired in aimless wanderings.

But now he had a goal.

Three, to be precise. The first was simple, though that didn’t mean it would be easy. Killing the Radiant Host would assuredly prove much more difficult than destroying their vassals, the Knights of Adontis. But he’d defeated their goddess’ underlings in the Mortal Realm, and he knew he could repeat that feat in the Eternal Realm.

Second, he would need to destroy the necromancer he’d thought dead. Micayne was still alive, and killing him would be much more complicated than fighting a war. Indeed, Zeke didn’t even know where to find the man’s phylactery, much less how to destroy it.

But if there was one thing he did well, it was destruction. The investigation would likely prove much more time-consuming and difficult.

And finally, he had to go to Hell, find the Pit, and descend to the next realm. As an addendum to that, he would need to find his way out of whatever passed for Hell in the Ethereal Realm. Each time Zeke had visited the demon realm – twice so far – he’d nearly died. It was a dangerous place, and one that he only vaguely understood. So, descending through the so-called Pit – as opposed to ascending like everyone else – would doubtless challenge him in ways he couldn’t even imagine.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about that for a while. He still had quite a few levels to go before he would be ready to ascend. Or descend, as Oberon had insisted.

“Not as many as you think,” came a quiet voice from within his head.

“Eveline?” Zeke asked, his memories still piecing themselves back together. His first recollection was his name, but after that, he’d remembered his conversation with Oberon. Now, everything else was beginning to rush back, and with it came Eveline.

“Welcome back,” she said. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d spend the rest of my days stuck in the mind of a comatose person. Or worse.”

“How close did I come?”

“Too close. You may very well be more durable than anyone I’ve ever seen – even some who are at the peak,” Eveline answered. “But the combination of that much destructive Will and that glimpse into that other Realm – it nearly unmade you. I knew you were alive. I tried to reach out to you. But…”

“I know. I was almost dead.”

“Don’t…don’t do that again, okay? That was too much.”

“It’s what it took,” Zeke pointed out. If he’d done any less, the necromantic vessel would not have been destroyed.

“That wasn’t the only thing that you destroyed.”

“What else?” Zeke asked.

“The city. The whole of Darukar and everything in it. You also destroyed the dungeon,” she said. “The whole region has been affected, with the undead attunement fading away. The unliving Kingdome of El’kireth is no more.”

It was not unexpected, but it also wasn’t the great loss Eveline made it out to be. The entire city had fallen under the sway of necromancy, and those people had already been lost.

“That is not the case,” Eveline said, her voice even more subdued than before.

“What?”

“There were survivors hiding in the city. They were killed. That isn’t considering all the people living outside of the city. They won’t survive, now that life has begun to return to the region. You killed millions, Ezekiel. Not all directly, but they’re still dead because of you,” she said. “I’m not saying this to accuse you of anything. I know you did what you did because there was no other choice. But I also know that you would want this information.”

That was true. He would have preferred not to have slain so many – it tore him up inside to think of how many lives he’d taken – but between knowledge and ignorance, he knew precisely which one he would choose. So did Eveline, it seemed.

“How did I get to the tower?” he asked, pushing those thoughts aside for another day. He distinctly remembered dismissing the gate leading to the tower, so for anyone to have rescued him, they would have had to trek across the labyrinth and all of Adontis, not to mention El’kireth, to reach the site of his skill.

“Your little undead friend,” she said. “Talia found you and dragged you across two kingdoms until the kobolds found her. It took weeks.”

“I see.”

“That girl loves you.”

“It’s not like that,” Zeke insisted.

“Love doesn’t have to be romantic. She’s not a potential partner – I can recognize that much, at least – but she’s devoted to you in ways that are rarely seen. I hope you reciprocate.”

“I do.”

“Good,” Eveline said.

“How long have I been in recovery?” asked Zeke.

“Two months,” she said. “You’ve been in the Crimson Spring since for most of it, but there were a few weeks before that where the girl was dragging you to safety.”

“I see,” Zeke said.

“There’s also something you should know,” Eveline went on. Zeke gave her the go-ahead to explain, and she said, “The necromancer you dealt with in the Mortal Realm. The one who brought that world down. He’s not dead.”

“I know.”

“What? Were you aware?”

Zeke gave a mental shake of his head. “No. A friend let me know what’s going on.”

Then, Zeke explained everything that had happened in the space between realms. When he’d finished, Eveline said, “I can’t see those memories. Even when I focus, there’s nothing there.”

“It happened.”

“I believe you,” she said. “It’s just…it’s been a while since I couldn’t verify someone’s story. Even when I had a body, I could easily delve into someone’s mind and take what information I wanted. It’s both easier and more difficult with you, but I suppose I just grew accustomed to it. Moreover, I was under the impression that you were a simple curiosity to that god.”

“Oberon is not a god,” Zeke said. “He’s just extremely powerful.”

“He is at the peak of the next realm,” she said. “And even among those at his level, he is among the strongest. I don’t know much of the gods of angels, but I do know that even if he is not technically a god, he might as well be, for how far above us he is. For how far above everyone else – save for a few – in that realm are.”

“That’s hard to comprehend,” Zeke admitted. Already, he could destroy cities. One day, if he reached high enough to call himself one of Oberon’s peers, there was no limit to what he could do. When he got to that point, would he be capable of destroying whole worlds? Galaxies, perhaps?”

“Universes.”

“What?”

“You will be able to destroy whole realities, Ezekiel.”

“I don’t…I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Believe it or not, it is true,” Eveline said. “You are special. You have been from the very beginning, and your advantages have continued to grow. Assuming you aren’t killed, you will one day be akin to a god of destruction. That is your fate. That is who you are.”

“What if that’s not what I want?” Zeke asked. He wanted to progress, and he wanted to fight in that eternal battle. He wanted to put an end to that conflict altogether. It was the purpose everyone had been given, but only a few were capable of achieving anything substantial. He was one of those. However, the notion of wrapping his whole identity in the act of destruction was not one he looked forward to.

“Just because you can destroy doesn’t mean you have to do so,” Eveline said. “You are your own person. You make your own choices. That is where your power is headed. That is why you can shape the world – or worlds – however you see fit. A man who can destroy a thing but chooses not to is the most powerful man in the world.”

Zeke didn’t respond. Instead, he lay in that pool, still incapable of moving, and stared at the ceiling. The power of destruction had changed him, and not just physically. He’d always been a fighter, but his Path had affected his mindset until his first response to any situation was to destroy it. Would that continue? Would he keep changing? Would a day come when he never even considered any other way?

He wasn’t sure.

“You may want to look at your status.”

“What? Did something change?” Zeke asked.

That elicited nothing but a laugh, so Zeke took her suggestion to check his progress. If he could have moved, he would have let out a gasp when he saw his status:

Name

Ezekiel Blackwood

Class

Arcane Colossus

Level

94

Race

Cambion (D)

Attunement

Earth (E), Demon (D), Death (D)

Alignment

Unchosen

Titles

n/a

Path

Arcane Destruction (C)

Strength (S+)

171

Agility (C)

40

Dexterity (B)

40

Endurance (S+)

150

Vitality (C)

40

Intelligence (A)

75

Wisdom (S)

77

Resistances

Fire

Ice

Water

Earth

Wind

Nature

Arcane

Poison

Disease

S+

D

E

S+

E

D

A

B

B

There were a handful of changes, not least of which was the fact that he’d gained five levels – presumably from killing an entire city and the necromantic vessels. He’d gained ten points to both strength and dexterity, with five points in intelligence and vitality as well. He also had ten free points – two per level – to spend, though he wasn’t sure if he was going to use his previous strategy of accentuating his strong points or shore up some of his weaknesses.

But that was the least of the changes to his status. First, he’d somehow evolved his race, and though he wasn’t certain what benefits that might bring, he knew it would be a good thing. Back in the Mortal Realm, advancing one’s race came with a host of benefits. Some were quantified in his status, adding extra points to his stats, but there were hidden rewards, like an improvement to his senses, as well. Since ascending to the Eternal Realm, that had all changed, so he was still at a loss as to what having a D-Grade race meant. He was certain it would be a good thing, though.

Maybe he would gain another racial ability. Or additional attributes. Maybe it would be something he couldn’t even think of. Regardless, there were notifications associated with it, so he would have to figure it all out on his own.

The second major alteration to his status came from his attunements. Or rather, an addition to that line, which told him he’d somehow developed a death attunement in addition to his demonic and earth attunements. He wasn’t one of the undead, though, so he wasn’t sure how that would manifest. One thing was certain, though – it would make his titanic form stronger. The same was true of his Worldbreaker technique, which utilized attuned forms of mana to create extreme destruction.

Regardless, it was definitely an unexpected addition, but a welcome one. For now. He would certainly change his tune if he started displaying undead tendencies.

Finally, he saw that his resistances had increased by a significant margin. Both poison and disease resistances had reached B-Grade, which meant that it would take quite a lot of either of those to do any damage to him.

“The rich get richer,” said Eveline.

Zeke couldn’t argue with that. It seemed that the Framework tended to reward great feats of strength, which were only possible if one was already powerful. So, the powerful got rewards, while the weak remained mired in, at best, mediocrity. Sure, people could change their fates, but it was not easy.

Then again, nothing about Zeke’s path could have been called that. Indeed, he’d bled and sweated and nearly died more times than he could count. He’d been to Hell and back on more than one occasion, and he’d killed literal armies.

No – his path had not been easy. And going forward, he expected the obstacles in his way to only become more prominent.

Whatever the case, Zeke needed to rest and recover before he could do anything. So, he settled in to do just that – as if he had any choice in the matter, considering he couldn’t even move – while contemplating his future.