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Chapter 6 - Chronicles

Today marks a new dawn—a god has fallen, and not just any god. The first god to ever be born has betrayed her creator. I wonder what went through her mind to challenge the fears. I am but young; I lack the intelligence she might have carried. Nevertheless, her failure was inevitable. How had she not seen something that was obvious even to me? Her death was mourned even by the originals; the fears laid her to rest, honoring her existence even though they had taken it. It was quite an honorable ceremony, though I felt out of place surrounded by deities of far more intelligence. I am but too young to be called a god.

At last, they closed her eyes; the palm of the beyond put her to sleep. But she refused. Once more, I question why. She is but lost—even her identity as a god had already been replaced. Her anger lives on; the rage and desire for power seep through her skin and flesh. Though her anger is incomplete, a god's presence is rather incomprehensible even beyond death. I have yet to be given a name by the fears, or a task. The fears believed my existence was a necessity, to keep the balance. I wonder what her name will be—the new god of life. She too will be young, but then again, she was a Partner. I was not.

I stayed behind after the ceremony. I watched as new life was created upon the eyes of the fallen god. They are but weak creatures—I fear if I stare too long, they will cease to exist as a whole. I pity their future, but I do not doubt the actions of the fears; they are beyond my intelligence. The seedlings are quite amusing to watch as they struggle, fight, and conquer just as we do. I have decided to call them seedlings; the other gods didn't even acknowledge their presence, but I know with due time they will also find curiosity. Not many creatures are born from the beyond, so sooner or later the seedlings will too question their morality and seek the gods just as the Pantheons and Prophets do. That being said, I am eager to discover whom I will rule over. If I had a choice, it would be the seedlings, but I do not.

I thought long and hard—maybe it was due to my lack of intelligence, but both options were likely possibilities. Though certain gods did refuse my creation, I will likely be placed in their opposition. As I thought more, the seedlings caught my interest once more: one had died! Oh my, how splendid! I was indeed surprised as I saw the dead god's essence create a vile monstrosity—an incomplete one—it ravished the seedlings. But that is not what had surprised me; one had slain the creature. That too was not what had surprised me, but the fact they had obtained a Stigma. The seedling, half-dead, drew a sword and it came forth with might and fury. It was a miracle to see such pitiful creatures rise—it had gained the power of the gods. Well, of course not the actual god, but a very insignificant portion. The other gods may find it a trivial matter, but a stigma, no matter the nature, was one to be wary of.

I wonder what she will create next, what new challenge will face the seedlings. It is as if her body is refusing to be overtaken. It was at that moment I realized the depth of Fear's decision—this was not a simple gesture of death. This was an eternal punishment. The god of life would witness her existence being trampled by creatures of such insignificance; it was almost ironic. It is an eternal mockery of her deviance to the fears. But gods do not cease to exist—she will continue to die defending her body beyond the grave.

I will be back to watch over them, I wonder what they will do next.

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I did indeed come back, rather quickly. I don't particularly have any duties relative to the other gods, nor do I have relations with the others. Today the seedlings continue to struggle, there are only a few that live quite close, skin to skin. Indeed they should, the very ground beneath them wishes for their demise. The one who had awakened a stigma has fallen, I had assumed so, the seedling's body simply does not hold enough strength to sustain such powers. But I do praise him, for his endeavors and courage; I shall reward him with a name. 

"Noa" 

As I waved my hands, the seedling acknowledged his name as Noa. There were 12 or so, the beyond created 15, there were already perishing. I wished to live longer, though I could intervene, I wished to see how thighs would play out naturally. Not much occurred, but I witnessed them persevere; build homes, hunt for food and even attempt to eat the corpse of Noa in hopes of gaining the power he held. It was quite a mundane task to watch them in the internal darkness run around trying to survive, but it was also quite amusing to see them do the things they did.

Even for me, a god, I was bewildered by their actions. I may lack intelligence, but they lack sentience. The more I observed the more I learned, but just about the seedlings but about the beyond and the god of life. Her anger fumed, her body leaked her divine powers creating atrocities, but they were once more incomplete. I observed the palm of the beyond, where they laid her to rest was dead, dead as in it created a haven of sorts for the seedlings. The god's wrath struggled to reach the seedlings within the palm, but her struggle was not absolute; many atrocities did manage to manifest. And very soon there was a second Noa, he too obtained a stigma and he too struggled to control it.

But he lived longer, he lived better. He led the others to a vast mountain valley, where they would develop the foundation of birth. So they had beaten a god, of course they hadn't but it was an amusing thought. Shall I give him a name too? 

"Ditya"

Ditya passed soon, lasting not much longer than Noa, but long enough to give rise to a few more. They named the first child to be born "Noa". How interesting, why not Ditya? Ditya was much more significant in their ascension to safety. And once more I questioned the pathetic nature of the seedlings. I shall be back to witness more, my curiosity has been touched. 

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Yuno awoke, his feet unstable and his vision foggy. He was in the divine court holding a book; it was as if he had been broken out of a trance. The jolt of reality made him stumble back, and above him, just as before, was the looming figure shrouded in a hood—the entity of the court counselor. He stared down at Yuno, almost demanding that he ask a question, as if he was waiting.

"Ah, how did I get here? Did Asmir make it? How about Captain Hiro? I didn't get to see him. What's going on?" panicked Yuno as his headache worsened.

"They are fine; they too are in their divine courts, just as you are," answered the entity.

"Why am I here?"

"To sign an updated contract."

Yuno summoned his contract. Everything was the same, except for a small sentence:

Marked by a God

Clause 3: Look upon the eyes, ears, and nose of your prey; you shall continue as a hunter.

"Please sign," said the court.

"What if I refuse?" questioned Yuno.

"The court advises one does not refuse the gift of a god. Doing so will bring significant punishment," answered the looming figure in a serious tone.

Yuno signed, biting his thumb and leaving a second bloodied fingerprint on the piece of paper. As he went to leave the mark, he noticed the book he was holding. It was thin and had a brown leather cover. It had "1" engraved on it.

"What is this?" asked Yuno, waving the book up at the court.

"That is an artifact from a god. It is her journal—a gift for your achievement," said the god in a different tone, this time a bit more proud.

Yuno questioned what he had just read. A god had died—and then seedlings...? Were the seedlings humans, and what's a stigma? Who are the fears and the beyond? The beyond created us? He thought and thought. Right before he was about to ask a question about the journal, the court cut him short.

"The court is unwilling to answer any question related to your artifact. The court's domain does not extend to the gods."

"The court dismisses your presence," said the figure.

Wait, no—not again. What the hell? Yuno's eyes started to open again. In the real world, he lay with his face on the dirt, feeling insects crawling over his skin, and he could still smell the blood on his hands. The book he was holding disappeared. He strained his eyes, and when his vision was steady, he hurried and rushed over to Asmir, who was using his sword as a support to lean on. The wound on his chest was healed, but the blood did not disappear. The gaping tear in his clothes leaked blood to the point that, if one didn't know Asmir could heal himself, they would think he was already dead.

"You good?" asked Yuno as he limped over to Asmir.

"Yeah, I should live. Maybe," coughed Asmir.

"Oh good, you guys are alive. Didn't know how I'd report to the king and tell him I got his son killed," laughed Captain Hiro.

Asmir gave him a dubious look, which then turned solemn at the thought of his father. It was now daytime, and it seemed like Captain Hiro was able to keep up his part of the job. Though he looked battered and his abdomen was wrapped in layers of bandages, the campsite was back to its original form—burned to a crisp with dead bodies in the center. The very first encounter. Yuno noticed something else—his senses were heightened once again. He hurried to grab his necklace, but it wasn't there. Did it break during the fight? Yuno wondered.

Yuno hadn't been severely injured, but mentally he was losing it. He had never had to kill another human, even if they were already dead. Their screams and pain still lingered in his head. Yuno thought of the man he had slighted—in the rush of adrenaline and fear, he managed to keep his composure, but now everything was hitting him at once. He threw up at the thought of his clothes being stained by the blood of his fellow soldiers. He coughed up blood, and his headache worsened as he vomited the little food he had eaten. Asmir and Captain Hiro didn't seem surprised.

They headed back to the train drop-off bay, unsure if they should tell anyone. Captain Hiro said he would speak with his superiors, but he doubted anyone would believe their story. Asmir worried they would pin the blame on Captain Hiro and accuse the captain of making excuses. Hiro explained that there was nothing he could do—he had to report it. Yuno wanted to ask about the contract and the books, but before he could say anything, Asmir took the question out of his mouth.

"Did any of you get a contract update? When I regained consciousness, I was in my divine court. My contract says I'm marked by a god," said Asmir.

They all looked at each other, baffled, and said at the same time, "We all did."

They exchanged contracts, and indeed all three had a sentence in their contract that said "Marked by a god." It also included an additional clause. They had all signed their contracts, and an additional bloodied fingerprint lay next to the original one. Captain Hiro mentioned that additional clauses can be added to one's contract if they slay a monster—similar to the abilities offered by their contact. So it wasn't too uncommon, but he had never heard of an individual being marked by a god.

When they arrived, the old man who operated the small train stop was surprised to see them, as if he wasn't expecting anyone, even though they had told him they would be back by the next day.

"Did you cut your adventure short, prince?" said the old man in a worried tone.

Asmir gave him a concerned look, squinting his brows.

"Where are the others? I know Trey and Arnold wanted to take home a few of my wife's fresh loaves of bread," added the old man.

Now all three of them were concerned—the old man was very well aware that Trey and Arnold, another members of the original cohort, had died by the ants. Was his old age getting to him? What was going on? Taken aback, Hiro reminded the old man how he had already told him that Trey and Arnold had died three days ago.

The man, mortified at the news, said, "Young man, I have only seen you since yesterday morning; it's barely been a full day."

The three, still faded from their battle, asked, "What day is it today?"

"It's 10/26/4000," answered the old man.

That was two weeks ago—it was the date of the very first time they encountered the ants. The world had fallen back in time; it was as if the cycles Yuno, Asmir, and Captain Hiro had lived through only existed in their minds.

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