Chapter 13: The Origin of Ruin

The world did not celebrate.There were no headlines calling Mustak a hero.No public announcements.The city simply repaired what it could.And waited for the next tremor.Because everyone felt it.Something had shifted.Two days after the city incident, Afzal requested a private meeting.Not at headquarters.Not at the warehouse.But at the edge of the original dead zone — the place where the first world-ending fracture had been recorded years ago.Mustak arrived alone.The land was silent.Gray.Unnaturally still.Afzal stood near a massive crack in the earth — wider than any street.“This is where it began,” Afzal said without turning.Mustak stepped closer to the edge.He felt it instantly.Not active energy.But residue.Ancient.Deep.“This isn’t just Setam activity,” Mustak said quietly.Afzal nodded.“No. This is pre-Setam.”Afzal finally faced him.“You’ve been told fragments came from an unknown catastrophe.”Mustak watched him carefully.“That’s not true.”A pause.“They came from something that existed before humanity reached its current state.”The air felt heavier.Afzal continued.“There was once an entity.”“An organism?” Mustak asked.“No.”Afzal’s voice lowered.“A principle.”The wind shifted faintly across the dead zone.“It was not born,” Afzal said.“It formed when civilizations first learned how to destroy beyond survival.”Mustak frowned slightly.“War?”“Not just war,” Afzal replied.“Intent.”Afzal looked down into the fracture.“It absorbed every act of deliberate annihilation.”Every genocide.Every extinction-level weapon.Every choice to destroy without necessity.“And eventually,” Afzal said quietly, “it became aware.”Mustak felt the fragment inside him stir.Not aggressively.Attentively.“They called it Ruin,” Afzal said.“Not because it destroyed.”“But because it remembered destruction.”Silence filled the dead land.“Humanity tried to erase it,” Afzal continued.“They launched everything they had.”Weapons.Containment fields.Dimensional fractures.“And they succeeded.”Mustak’s eyes narrowed.“They killed it?”Afzal shook his head slowly.“They shattered it.”The ground beneath them trembled faintly.“The explosion fragmented its consciousness across the planet.”“Those fragments became seeds.”Mustak understood now.“And carriers like us…” he said quietly.“…are hosts.”Afzal nodded once.“But not randomly chosen.”Mustak stared into the crack.“Then why me?”Afzal met his gaze.“Because fragments resonate with potential.”A pause.“Not just power.”“Choice.”Far in the distance, energy flickered briefly across the horizon.Arman was watching again.Listening.“If Ruin reforms completely,” Mustak asked, “what happens?”Afzal’s voice was calm.“It will not think like a monster.”“It will not rage.”“It will simply complete its function.”“And that function?” Mustak pressed.“To erase civilizations when they surpass balance.”Mustak exhaled slowly.“A reset.”“Yes.”The fragment inside him pulsed once.Not in hunger.In agreement.Mustak closed his eyes briefly.Then opened them.“What if Ruin doesn’t have to return as it was?”Afzal’s expression sharpened.“That depends.”“On what?”“On whether the fragments remain separate.”Suddenly, the air distorted ahead of them.A vertical tear formed in space itself.Not violent.Precise.Arman stepped through calmly.His presence felt heavier than before.“You shouldn’t tell him everything,” Arman said casually.Afzal didn’t move.“He deserves truth.”Arman’s violet eyes shifted to Mustak.“Truth is dangerous when you think you can rewrite it.”Mustak stepped forward.“You stopped resisting.”“Yes.”“And what did that give you?”Arman smiled faintly.“Clarity.”The ground beneath him darkened slightly.“I realized Ruin is not evil.”“It is necessary.”Afzal’s voice hardened.“Necessary for what?”“For correction.”Arman looked toward the horizon.“Humanity always repeats the same cycle.”Build.Expand.Destroy.Repeat.“Ruin ends the cycle.”Mustak shook his head.“No.”Arman’s gaze sharpened.“You still believe balance can exist.”“Yes.”Arman stepped closer.“Balance requires restraint.”“Ruin requires inevitability.”The fragment inside Mustak pulsed again.Stronger.As if responding to Arman’s presence.Arman noticed.“It calls to you more now, doesn’t it?”Mustak didn’t deny it.Arman’s smile faded.“You made a deal.”“Yes.”Arman’s eyes narrowed slightly.“You think you can negotiate with a principle?”Mustak’s voice remained steady.“I don’t need to control it.”A pause.“I need to define it.”For the first time —Arman’s expression changed.Not anger.Not amusement.Interest.“That,” Arman said quietly,“…is dangerous.”The tear in space behind him began stabilizing again.Arman stepped back toward it.“When the fragments begin converging,” he said calmly,“You’ll have to choose.”Afzal’s eyes darkened.“Choose what?”Arman’s gaze locked onto Mustak one last time.“Whether Ruin becomes extinction.”“Or evolution.”Then he stepped through the tear.And vanished.Silence returned to the dead zone.The wind moved again.Softly.Mustak stood at the edge of the fracture.He felt the fragment differently now.Not as a weapon.Not as a threat.As a responsibility.Afzal stepped beside him.“He’s not entirely wrong,” Afzal said quietly.Mustak nodded.“I know.”A long pause.“But he’s not entirely right either.”Far beneath the earth —Across continents —Other fragments began stirring.Responding.Converging slowly.The awakening was no longer theoretical.It was approaching.Mustak looked at the horizon.For the first time —He wasn’t thinking about surviving the next battle.He was thinking about the future of humanity itself.And whether Ruin would return as destruction…Or transformation.