In an instant, Avel's perception shifted, and he found himself gazing upon a desolate landscape unlike anything he had ever seen before. "This is the real world," Uriel declared, his voice echoing in the empty expanse. Everywhere Avel looked, he saw ruins bathed in a sickly red glow, the sky above dominated by a massive cube dripping with blood-red essence. There was a palpable sense of desolation, a haunting emptiness that seemed to stretch on for eternity.
"We come from nothingness," Raguel explained, his words dripping with malice. "The land of Narghana." As Avel's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he beheld the creatures in their entirety, their forms twisted and grotesque, like something out of a nightmare. Their colours shifted and shimmered, too dim to fully discern, lending them an otherworldly aura. "This is the world outside your veiled existence," Raguel continued, his voice a sinister whisper that seemed to slither through the air like a serpent. "What used to be our world, and the fate that now awaits yours." Avel recoiled in horror at the sight before him, the putrid air filling his lungs with a sickening sweetness that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Unless you help us stop the so proclaimed great god Asham, once and for all," Raguel explained, his words carrying a weight that sent a shiver down Avel's spine. Despite his terror, Avel forced himself to maintain his composure, steeling himself against the overwhelming darkness that threatened to consume him. With every fibre of his being, he knew that he must find a way to confront this ancient evil, or risk being swallowed whole by the abyss.
"Do this, and the power is yours," Uriel encouraged, his voice carrying an otherworldly, eerie quality that sent shivers down Avel's spine. It was then that realization dawned upon him, a chilling revelation that filled him with dread and apprehension. "All those things I've done since Garcinia up to now... They were a test, to see if I could lead you here, to this point, to get rid of Asham; I need you and you need me," Avel said, his voice trembling with repressed fear. Raguel nodded solemnly, his expression filled with a mixture of disgust and determination. "The Lumerians would not aid us, too afraid to even think of angering it," Raguel whispered, his voice laced with contempt. "Leaving us with but one option." With a gesture, he directed Avel's attention to the crown of dark obsidian resting upon the crumbling altar, its ancient and haunting presence casting a shadow over the chamber.
"We fashioned our own savior through the years, the one that could wake us would hold the essence we require to live on," Raguel explained, his words carrying a weight that sent a chill down Avel's spine. "As we share the same strife, we can aid each other. With your shroud of excellence, we shall give our power to you, and you will grow it, having power rivalling that of the great god himself. All in the name of Restoring existence to its full glory, its purity."
"You see, many now blaspheme. Saying Asham is too strong, unbridled in its reach. Afraid it will see you as threat, and it will destroy them and everything they love. He will want to steal your shroud of existence. But together, our power and your essence, we can destroy it." Uriel states, his voice held sinister echoes.
Avel felt a surge of both excitement and dread at the prospect of wielding such unimaginable power. It was a daunting responsibility, one that filled him with a sense of urgency and determination. "Liberating all of us from being fed to Asham and its brethren," Raguel concluded, his voice echoing with a sense of finality. The young prince stood before the imposing figures of the Amari, his heart pounding with fear. But he couldn't let them see it—not when they seemed so powerful and believed in him. "Maybe this is what his father meant," he thought, "to give hope is to not show fear when others do."
Uriel's voice echoed in Avel's mind, a reassuring presence amidst the uncertainty. "I know you're afraid, even if the others don't. But we are here to guide you, boy. To show you the way," Uriel projected, his words both comforting and unsettling.
Recalling the sensation of power that had surged through him earlier, Avel couldn't help but wonder if these beings were the evil forces the Lumerian gods often warned of.
"Save us, and we will save you," Raguel declared, "Serve to aid in our prophecy and fulfil this destiny," his tone brooking no argument.
"Be our Al-Shaddai."
"Serve as the champion promised and together, we will restore existence to its full glory." Uriel's voice echoed with otherworldly eeriness. The offer was tempting—unrivalled power in exchange for his divine nature. An exchange for an exchange, ruling as their new false messiah. One who served to give and not take from them like Asham-El.
A challenge lay before Avel—to turn the tide and make the Amari believe in him, to bow before him. With a blank expression and unwavering eye contact, he gave his assent. "Yes," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him.
The entity smiled wickedly, presenting Avel with a crown—a black obsidian and gold lined crown, with a purple jewel. It would serve as the exchanger, his essence for their power as his own, his piece of existence at their pleasure. The first meeting with the Amari had been no chance encounter—it had been a carefully orchestrated plan to forge their ideal saviour.