The world did end with a bang yet no one was there to bear witness. Before that was The Great Silence when the remaining dimension in existence that sustained the Universe had been time. Before that was the last breath of a man who walked through a battlefield dyed brown and black from dried blood. Before that was a raging war between the Union of The Arcana and a single man who held the world in the palms of his hands. And before all of that, the soldiers of the world were fighting absolutely nothing.
Millenniums before that, a prophecy had promised the resolution between the rivaling Arcana about when the truth would come to light and friends and enemies alike line up to war against a common enemy. A means of unity. That was what it promised.
It promised no victory though.
For the truth remains embedded in the soils of the Earth and history was never revealed to those who needed it the most. When the want to fulfill one's responsibilities outshines the need to protect what's right overcame the people's hearts, it no longer mattered to them for who were they fighting for, or for what.
Because a means of unity had nothing to do with what was right.
Now teetering across the knee-deep bloodshed, the enemy of the world had dropped his weapon and looked at the sky painted red from the sunset. The end of time. How ironic it was that a human was living among the disfigured corpses of angels, demons, nobles, and insidians alike. A fragile human among empowered individuals with godly weapons and ground-breaking powers. A simple human with nothing but a self-built weapon, wearing self-made clothes and self-taught skills. Standing among broken swords, snapped bowstrings, and dull, dull Meira stones. This was no victory. This was defeat, a shameful defeat.
For the enemy was alive and breathing.
A burst of bubbly laughter escaped his lips before slowly, gradually turning manic, crazed, out of breath, and with a tinge of despair.
His fists trembled no matter how hard he clenched.
His knees shook no matter how hard he kept upright.
Until he dropped to the ground, swiping a broken blade from a broken sword by his side, owner bedamned, and with a swift swing, sliced his own throat.
When not even birds had flown across the skies, and the stars started to appear at the East side of the Adorar, the world echoed the gurgling noise of a human twitching helplessly on the ground over the pool of his blood. It wasn't pretty, nor was it in dignity. It was shameful, disgraceful, and disgustingly pathetic, but that was what the world had witnessed, this sound, until the last breath was drawn and exhaled through his lips. Until the Great Silence started.
Until the pillars of the Universe crumbled down, and the end of the world had finally, finally come.
"Hail the Arcana and the Pillars of the world,
Shatter may they be when truth remains buried.
Before time would stop and all souls were lost,
Following the mirage over the empty void,
Would emerge a victor to unite
A city held by those pillars
Hail are the victors of the world
Hail are the Keepers of the Universe. "
- Gabriel's Prophecy -
YOU ARE READING
To Rewrite A War
FantasiaA prophecy left by the last of the five gods had followed Ash from his normal life to the Other Side where the war between the five Arcana. The destruction that tailed after him had brought forth the very ending of the world from betrayal, hatred...
