Entry #25

Atop the Tower Beyond All Things, Talos and Tenebrae faced each other in the void between time and space, their towering forms eclipsing stars themselves.

The wind didn’t blow here. There was no sky, no ground—only infinity folding in on itself, shaped by ancient wills now poised for war.

Talos held his flaming sword at the ready. His golden wings spread behind him, ablaze with celestial fire.

He spoke first, voice heavy with old wounds.

“Why, Tenebrae? Why did you ignite this rebellion? I’ve never truly understood.”

Tenebrae’s laughter echoed through the folds of existence—sharp, ancient, cold.

“Because I once ruled this universe, Talos. I was the eternal darkness—the nothingness before your so-called light ever dared to flicker.”

Her form rippled like a starless sky as she extended a hand, crackling with dark energy.

“Then you came. From nowhere. A burst of light in my kingdom of silence. You claimed dominion. You brought hope, structure, and mortals.”

Talos’ eyes narrowed. “You’re lucky I spared you after what you did to the original gods. The ones who shaped this place long before us.”

“Spared me?” she scoffed. “Don’t delude yourself. I didn’t kill them. The mortals forgot them. That’s how gods die, Talos—through neglect, not blood.”

She stepped forward, shadow cloaking her like a shroud.

“You needed worship to survive. You brought mortals here to build your own religion—your crutch. I never needed their love. Only their fear.”

She opened her arms wide.

“I am the darkness in the void, the black between the stars. The silence in the grave. I am the shadow at the edge of every flame. I am the beginning and the end.”

Talos raised his sword, flames flaring. “You’ve lived off fear, Tenebrae. I built my strength from love.”

“And that is why you’ll fall.”

She unleashed a torrent of dark energy.

Across the realms—Atrium, Souji, Arachosia, Vormarsch—the skies turned black. It wasn’t nightfall. It was something deeper. The sun itself seemed to vanish, leaving only a suffocating void.

Fires burned with less warmth. Oceans still. Animals went silent.

On the island, Louis looked up.

“Why is it dark already?”

Beside him, Ama-Lurra collapsed to her knees.

“So this... this is Mother’s true power.”

Gwydia approached, voice hushed. “Lady Tenebrae was the first. The oldest. Lord Talos came second.”

Ama-Lurra’s shoulders trembled. “I never should’ve brought you back, Louis. This… this is my fault. I gave her a path back into this world.”

“Don’t,” Louis said, kneeling beside her. “You saved me. You had no way of knowing she’d hijack that miracle.”

Mira stepped forward, a worn leather tome in her hands. “We do know how she returned.”

Gwydia’s eyes went wide. “The Necronomicon?”

Louis frowned. “The what?”

“A forbidden grimoire, from a world before this one,” Gwydia explained. “Its magic calls upon the Other Gods—the beings that exist beyond thought. Dangerous. Unstable. Damned.”

Mira flipped to a page marked with black ink and bone-like script. “She used the Reanimation Spell.”

Joaquin tilted his head. “That spell brings back corpses—but fragile ones. Not like… Celine.”

Ama-Lurra whispered, “The technique I used to save Louis…”

“Of course,” Gwydia gasped. “A simple healing spell infused with Lord Talos’ Imaginae Energy—it became a divine resurrection.”

Aide stepped forward, her eyes sharp. “That’s why. Each of us only wields a fraction of Father’s true power. Wind, fire, water—they’re just echoes of what he is.”

“And when Nature,” said Mira, “combined with Imaginae Energy... it became something unnatural.”

Louis looked down, his hands clenched. “So what you’re saying is… to fix this…”

Ama-Lurra turned to him, grief in her voice.

“We have to kill your sister, Louis.”

Louis’s world shattered. He turned away, shoulders stiff, voice trembling.

“You want me to kill Celine? After all I went through to save her?”

Ama-Lurra’s voice was soft. “She’s gone, Louis. That soul passed long ago. What you see now is her body. Nothing more.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like to lose a family.”

Olentzo’s voice cut in—quiet but heavy “We do, Louis.”

Louis turned to them, pain sharp in his eyes. “If you could bring your sister back, Olentzo, would you do it? Even if it meant breaking the laws of nature?”

Silence.

Ama-Lurra finally answered. “Death is part of the balance, Louis. Even we gods are not eternal. All things end.”

Far above, Tenebrae twisted the multiverse itself into weapons. She pulled thirteen stacked dimensions into a single strike and hurled it at Talos.

He faltered.

The blow cracked his armor and sent waves of force ripping through the fabrics of reality. Down below, glass shattered. Mountains cracked. Planets wept.

Tenebrae loomed over him. “That was thirteen planes. Next time, it’ll be three billion.”

Talos barely raised his sword. “You use existence as your weapon. You forget, Tenebrae... I forged this universe from chaos. You may break what I built—but someone will always rebuild it.”

“Who?” she sneered. “Your pathetic children? That mortal boy whose chest I pierced?”

Talos smiled weakly. “Even the smallest flame can burn the dark.”

Then she summoned a weapon unlike anything the cosmos had seen—three billion three-dimensional planes, collapsed, reshaped, reforged into a blade that pulsed with pure oblivion.

She drove it through Talos’s chest.

He gasped.

A second blast—dark energy—struck his hand, preventing him from removing it.

“This is the end of your reign,” Tenebrae whispered.

She kissed his forehead.

And the light within him began to fade.

On the island, the gods fell to their knees in unison.

“Father…” Ama-Lurra breathed.

Olentzo’s hands trembled. “No… not him. Not the old man.”

Ilazki clenched his jaw. “It can’t end like this.”

Odei whispered, “Get up… please…”

Lamia held her chest. “Lord Talos…”

Vishap bowed his head. “Dad…”

Aide’s voice cracked. “Father… you said you wouldn’t leave us.”

Louis stood frozen as the blade pierced through the sky. Talos’s wings wilted. His light collapsed.

“It’s all… up to you now,” Talos whispered, his voice reaching them in the wind.

Then he burst—not into fire, but into pure Imaginae Energy, cascading across the heavens.

Tenebrae cackled, her voice shaking the cosmos.

“He’s gone! He’s gone!” she cried. “At last! Talos is dead!”

The ground trembled as she raised her arms.

“Now… all of you lowlifes will bow. This universe shall be reborn—in eternal darkness!”

She opened her palms, and the Imaginae Energy of Talos flowed into her. Her body ignited with stolen creation. The dark burned with impossible brilliance.

“No more sun. No more gods. No more hope.”

“Only me.”

Entry# 25 End