The dark stretched without boundary—calm and endless. Then the void shuddered. Something ancient had stirred, vast and formless, and its essence bled into the black.
"Haah~"
A breath rippled across the nothingness. A woman's voice followed, soft, weary, but immense. Every syllable carried the ache of remembrance.
"My earliest memories…were of slaughter and of evolution."
The void flared to life as if memory itself had ignited. Universes unfurled like kindled seeds; constellations bloomed and perished in the same breath. Stars were born, died, and born anew.
"But creation breeds conflict. What is born must contest its place."
Amid that newborn light, wars erupted—cosmic wars that tore galaxies to ribbons, scattering light across the fabric of time.
"The Qegon race—millions once—fought until eight remained."
The cosmos convulsed, and from the wreckage of shattered planets and bleeding wormholes, eight luminous entities arose, each pulsing with its own hue and ancient song. They drifted like wounded suns across an indifferent eternity.
"...I recall my reawakening, when the Champion arose, and I was forged as the seat of his authority."
Space twisted again, and upon a pale moon sat a thorny throne darker than the void itself. Rested upon it was something bright, radiating in its triumph. Below, seven dim figures bowed—their auras flickering like dying embers.
"From the rest I offered, the Champion made his first folly. He spared the Seven—the fallen Qegons—when they were his to consume... For love stayed his hand."
A low growl traveled across the void.
"He chose kinship over dominion. Foolish, yet not without its merits..."
Suddenly, a blinding light erupted, and the eight shot away like comets, each cutting a unique hue across the dark.
"Thus dawned a golden age where we soared unimpeded; no rival nor ancient horror could check our rise. We were mighty… and yet, the rot came from within."
Her voice grew thin at the edges, and the void sank into a gloomy stillness.
"All great things end in tragedy, do they not?
"The Champion was betrayed, ambushed—and with the dispelling of faith, six Qegons were nearly consumed... I warned him, but in hesitation lay his defeat—his second folly.
"In the end, with our bodies broken, the Champion fled—hiding amongst the lesser races of the multiverse, masking his cosmic soul in mortal grime..."
A forlorn silence—
Then suddenly, the darkness churned, as the void trembled in unwillingness spiced with fury.
"But we have not conceded yet!" Her fiery declaration roused the void. "Even now, the Champion gathers strength in exile, and one day he shall rise to cast down Dreadnight, 'The Antilight Betrayer'—who prowls now, slavering like a predator after its prey—"
A sudden pause, and the darkness stilled, sensing something. A low tremor rolled across the void as she made her observation.
"Hmm. The Champion has perished once more... This is the longest his lived in a hundred transmigrations... Good–Hm?"
A short pause. Then laughter, low and electric.
"But at last! He has gathered enough strength! Memories of countless lives rekindle his essence. Finally, the fated hour of vengeance is here... I shall prepare to receive him once more."
Her voice faded, and the void held its breath—waiting.
Silence—
Suddenly, like a lone candle flaring in a cavern without end, a golden wisp burst alight.
"Finally... I'm out of that bland nightmare!"
His cry of relief permeated the emptiness.
"And to think I could die of old age! Me?! Unthinkable!!"
He brightened, laughter scattering like embers. However, the darkness thickened in mild annoyance.
"Champion."
The word struck from everywhere and nowhere at once, and the wisp jolted—its glow fluttering like a blown candle.
"Wha—Era?! Whoa! You nearly scared me out of existence!"
He brightened, then stilled, his flame suddenly flaring into irritation.
"Era! You irksome throne! Why would you send me to that tedious realm!?" He nagged.
The darkness recoiled, as though making space for him to calm down.
"I know you crave strife, Rainer," Era soothed in a patient tone edged with weariness.
"But Dreadnight's hunters overran the lower realms. His senses had fixed upon me. Time was scarce, safety scarcer still. I had to transmigrate you where his senses had no hold."
Rainer's flames soon steadied and he sighed out his anger.
"Fine. You had little choice."
The darkness drifted closer again, tentatively.
"…Were you at least content with the world I chose?" Era asked, almost teasing.
Rainer quivered at this, and his glow flared gold to white-hot fury.
"Content!? Hardly! It was intolerably dull! Imagine five centuries without a single foe!"
"Peace is not always a curse," She observed mildly.
"Peace!?" His flame erupted, livid. "From birth, they laid me on some hovering chair! I was fed by drones, bathed, washed!"
"That," Era said, perplexed, "is how certain advanced civilizations rear their young, Rainer."
"You don't understand! I lived and died that way! I was fattened like a pig, unable to walk or fight as my limbs rapidly atrophied. Every day I rolled about like a living dumpling! Without the drones, I could do nothing!"
"Ah. I see…"
Her voice lingered with equal parts pity and bemusement.
"It was intolerable! Too idle! Too tame!" He fumed.
"A pity," Era mused softly. "Many humans would envy such ease."
"Well, I am no human, am I!?" His flame swelled in proud defiance. "Have you forgotten who I am? Declare my title!"
A pause—long enough for the void itself to smirk.
"You are the Qegon known as Rainer, 'The Charlatan'."
"Era!!!"
"…'The Champion'," She corrected, laughter glinting through her tone.
"Forgive me. I jest."
"…" Rainer fell silent, thoughts rippling across his form.
"What has you in such a pleasant mood?"
He was suspicious. He knew Era as he knew himself; she did not jest unless it was to sting him. Yet she was being kind—unusually so, and that alone set his lights on edge.
"Hmm. I wonder what changed," He muttered absently.
Hearing this, the darkness stirred with a quiet excitement, and the void hushed, sensing the shape of what she was about to reveal.
"Haven't you noticed?" Era's tone brimmed with delight. "Your essence has taken shape."
At that, Rainer fluttered in disbelief as he observed himself for the first time.
"Wha—It's true! I'm a bonfire!!"
He laughed aloud, the sound scattering golden sparks across the void. His flame fluttered as he danced about in the shape of his essence—a living wisp, small yet sovereign.
Era chuckled softly, and the darkness leaned closer fondly.
"It is not solely yours which has reformed, Rainer, but that of the other six Qegons."
"Truly?" He gasped, gliding forward as his light washed over her dark form in gilded hues.
"Show them to me—my family! Reveal them!"
"As you wish," She whispered.
The void quivered. Then, all at once, six lights unfurled around him like awakening stars, each blazing with its own signature brilliance.
At once, Rainer brightened with excitement, gliding curiously from one to the next.
The first flared out like a festival of blossoms—hot pink flames rimmed with crimson petals, dancing about joyously.
The second sparked white-hot like lightning, a knight's radiance that sang of duty, charged with burden.
The third resolved itself into a golden lattice—a segmented cube wrapped in luminous flames. Its facets aglow with living equations.
The fourth had a wreath of ghostly blue flames swirling around its core; a fiery magenta symbol of an eye promising vengeance.
The fifth was a jet-black box, pulsing with scarlet and sickly green veins across its fissures. The gloomy flames around it constantly flared erratically, hissing with faint, corrosive noises.
As for the last, a bright cerulean wisp hovered—cool and distant, circled regally by a frosty nebula.
Rainer's golden flames faltered, trembling as he took them in, and a tide of memories washed over him, tightening his metaphorical chest.
"Old friends… my rival… my curse… and—"
He gently drifted closer to the last, and his voice softened to a reverent whisper.
"My love."
A swift silence fell, and the void seemed to hold its breath.
Drawn in by the mesmerizing display of the cerulean wisp's essence, Rainer's flames quietened, and he reached out, the tips of his light brushing the stardust.
As soon as he made contact, however—he recoiled abruptly, withdrawing, for she burned colder than he remembered.
"Haah~ Oh, how she hurts me..."
Sighing, he glided back towards the darkness.
"They are all here, Era. They've all returned…"
For a moment, a homely silence settled over the void. Warm, vast, complete.
And for the first time in eons, Rainer let himself bask in it—the light of his family, fully reborn.
Soon, Era's voice broke the stillness like a bell cast across tranquil waters.
"...The hour has come, Rainer. Enough fleeing. It is time you faced Dreadnight in open combat—time you proved before every known entity that you are worthy of the title, 'The Champion!'"
Rainer's flames brightened, drinking in her rare show of fervor like oxygen.
However, a sudden memory struck like a nightmare, and his fire recoiled, dimming.
"..."
The darkness shifted, perplexed at his silence.
"Rainer?"
Her tone softened, yet he turned away.
Silence stretched taut until Era spoke again—half in disbelief, half in reproach.
"I dare not believe it! You are afraid—"
"It's not yet time, Era." He weakly cut her off.
At once, the darkness contracted and the void trembled with something perilously close to outrage.
"You cannot doubt yourself now!" Her voice rang, fierce and echoing.
"Not after the disgrace—not after the harm done to those you claim to love!"
Rainer's light waned to a frail gold, flickering like a candle buffeted by stormy winds.
"It's a fifty-fifty victory at best, Era." He muttered the words like a confession.
However, Era was undeterred.
"To you, Rainer, that is fortune! We have faced odds far worse—abysmal, absurd—and triumphed each time!"
Her indignant fury pressed around him, smoldering like the breath of a furnace.
Rainer felt cornered.
"E-Era… please, not now. I—I…" He stammered, retreating until a spark of inspiration flared within.
"Yes! I still have business at the lower realms!"
The darkness stilled at this—its agitation subsiding into wary calm.
"What business?"
Rainer glanced around.
"Er—Rome? Yes! Rome!" His voice wavered between eagerness and guilt.
"I once vowed to raise a Roman civilization to the height of a Celestial Empire."
"..."
Era's silence weighed heavily, then a low tremor rumbled across the void, rising in intensity until she erupted with multiple streaks of green lightning flashing and cracking within her form.
"Do not lie to me, fool! We are one—you cannot lie to me!"
Rainer's resolve held firm at her ghastly rebuke.
"Then you already know why I hesitate, don't you, Era?" His voice dimmed, weighed down with sadness.
"You know I'd die—even if I won."
The darkness recoiled—and following was a silence where grief entangled with anger and helplessness.
Rainer's flame steadied, faint but sincere.
"I've made you revert to your old self, haven't I?" He chuckled softly. "I prefer you that way."
"Buffoon…" She muttered, exasperated.
"Haha. Don't fret, Era. Rome's promise calls to me—perhaps there I'll find the strength to face Dreadnight."
A tense drawn-out pause—
Somewhere within the vast, rolling darkness, flashes of green lightning escaped, and Era spoke, revealing words she had strained to contain.
"…You should forget Remus, Rainer. Forget this—love," She spat, her voice edged with scorn.
"Devour the Qegons! Take back your glory! Become, 'The One'!"
"Era... Huuh~."
His tired sigh carried disappointment—whether in her or himself, neither could tell.
Suddenly, the void shuddered as emotions rippled through it like thunder rolling beneath deep waters, and Era exhaled bitterly.
"Fine. Very well. I shall send you to an Earthly universe—to an age where the Roman Empire yet stands."
Her voice steadied, cool and absolute.
"But take heed. This will be your last transmigration. When your mortal shell dies, your true form shall reawaken—and you will rise to strike Dreadnight down for his betrayal."
Rainer brightened instantly, his flame swelling with life.
"Thank you! You're the best, Era!"
"You are most—unwelcome."
Her begrudging tone rippled through the dark as it expanded, vast and unamused.
But then she paused and a moment of quiet ensued... Noticing something at a place beyond the void, Era sighed.
"...It appears Dreadnight has sensed your essence—even through my veil." She murmured darkly.
"He approaches—swiftly."
Rainer immediately jolted, flames flickering in panic as he darted to and fro.
"Then hurry and transmigrate me!"
"It is…disappointing," Era mused, her voice a cool tide. "You could have transformed into your true form, and slain him here."
"Era!" Rainer snapped, urgency blazing through his tone.
"—As you will," She sighed at last.
He flickered suddenly, as though remembering something, and drifted closer to her vast silhouette in the void.
"Oh! And don't forget to send the Qegons' essence down with me to their current mortal vessels! It'll make recognizing them far easier if we meet below!"
"...As you command," She coolly ceded. "But I will veil and bind them stringently. Your powers must not leak; else Dreadnight and his hunters will catch its scent."
That said, the darkness fell below them and began to swirl inwardly upon itself.
At once, as if receiving a silent command, all seven wisps flared—dazzling like dying suns granted one last brilliance. Each wisp revolved closer, coalescing together into a swirling, eclectic beam that lanced downward into the swirling, pool of darkness.
The pool shimmered, rippled—and vanished; leaving behind silence, graced with faint motes of light.
Then came the sound—a tearing groan as crimson lightning flashed across the void.
Suddenly, jagged scarlet cracks spread like bleeding roots upon the void, and from the cracks burst a massive claw that tore time and space, widening the tumultuous rift before receding into shadow.
A beat—silence.
Then a colossal eye filled the gap; wild, gleaming, maddened.
*Grrr*
Its guttural growl rolled through eternity, shaking the very void.
Scarlet fissures spread farther, screaming against the strain of reality's fabric.
"I… thirst."
Its horrid voice reverberated—raw and fractured. Slithering beneath the din, it carried hunger, hatred, and the faintest echo of sorrow.
––✺––
Somewhere eons below, the echoes of divinity brushed with the sea of collective consciousness, and in a dim cave lit by candles placed upon a shelf-sized monster's skull, a furred humanoid abruptly opened her eyes in horror.
Frantic and panicked she pushed off her blanket, picking up her walking staff.
*Clackek! Cleckak!*
The shells and trinkets adorning it rattled as she struggled to her feet. Then she hurriedly limped to the wall, her white tail sweeping low against the floor.
Shakily brushing off the dust, an old painting was revealed—of a humanoid warrior clad in gold, standing upon a blazing eagle at the forefront of hundreds of thousands of soldiers marching in neat block formations against a chaotic horde in the gloomy distance—monstrous abominations looming high across the far horizon as they laboriously approached.
"The Golden Celestial. Hell's Mortal Guardian... Oh, Chosen of the Sacred Eagle." She muttered in awe, eyes glistening in tears of relief.
"The prophecy is fulfilled. Our savior has come!"
*Crackle!*
Lightning flashed outside and her head swept to the side, startled.
It was a night, and a chill wind had begun to pick up.
She trembled, but it was not due to the chill. But the being who stood before her cave.
A furry humanoid being, crouched and wearing the wide mask of what seemed like a lion, but it was not a mane that surrounded it, but long thin leaves...
There was a tense pause when their eyes met, and the being tilted its head slightly, observing the furry woman for a moment.
But suddenly its legs tensed, and it pounced.
"Aahhh!"
Her terrified shriek faded into the night.