Kalor sat in silence, pondering his new choice. To take a veil and gain power, and possibly be controlled, or slowly die. He didn't know which was worse.
Solomon walked back into the infirmary.
"What's your decision, Kalor?"
Kalor was still.
"If I fall to the lying mask, I want you to behead me as I will stand. I will rather die than be used as a weapon."
"If that's what you wish, it'll be done,"
Kalor stood up, and walked with Solomon.
"Now, I've teamed up with some researchers on The Tower, and they were willing to help us. But their findings are gruesome,"
"What is it, Solomon?"
"These new Gods gave their lives in a unholy pact with the Seven Sins. When we raided the Tower, we cast them out of our world. They can only contact those who are corrupted enough, or hold the knowledge to do so."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"I'll get to it, but you must listen. In order to fully understand the capabilities of our enemies, and that shard," Solomon pointed at the shard in Kalor's shoulder, "we need to understand their makers. And how to become one."
"So your saying I have to become one of them? To forsake all that we believe in? There has to be another way!"
"You know well that we are past in standards. Do you really think by standing by with all that power will do us any good? You would be only allowing Locust and her forces to destroy all that we fought for, all that YOU fought for. All that you've DIED for!"
Kalor paused for a moment as he was escorted into a vehicle with Solomon.
"I will think about your proposal. But do not expect me to give the answer you want."
In the Lake of Fire:
"I have gazed into the cosmos, and they stared back. My loyalists have stolen an ancient temple, with inscriptions of far away worlds with bounds of possible tribute. I will send them under the noses of my siblings, and the tribute of secrecy will be filling of the maw in my stomach! Whatever riches that await my conquests I will steal; their knowledge and power will be mine alone." -Dialego, God of Trickery and The End.
On Earth:
The Sun turned black as dragon glass; the winds howled vulgarity and whispered cries of death.
Kalor and Solomon exited the vehicle tentatively, every step was heavy as warhammers.
"Are you ready, Kalor?"
Kalor nodded in approval, and entered the large facility. Solomon followed, leading him down a maze of corridors and doors.
Solomon opened a door, and they both entered the dark room. The lights turned on by themselves, and it was an empty room. From top to bottom, it was vacuum-sealed from the rest of the building. It was coated in the gold from the Veil.
Solomon locked the door behind him, and handed Kalor his veil. He also took a pistol from his belt, checked it for full rounds, and cocked it, ready to take him down. A sword was also on his belt to fulfill Kalor's last wish.
Two witches and wizards entered the room seemingly out of nowhere, and stood around Kalor.
They began chanting in the Kloseg Language, each verse louder than the last.
The shard reacted, glowing and reflecting like a mirror. Thousands of different possibilities, each with their own worlds, their own people and history, all shown within moments.
Kalor shrieked, and a large multidimensional explosion shook the room, and then the entire world quakes.
And as the dust settled, The four mages were killed gruesomely, and Kalor was gone.
A cackle from the God of Trickery echoed through the golden room, and Solomon was the only one whom left the room that day.
