Chapter 1:

P0.0 The Birth of the Unborn

The Desolate Blade

Disclaimer: Upon reading this particular chapter, you will notice words such as "you" and "him" being capitalized as "You/Your" and "Him". This was not done by accident and was meant to be this way. Hope this helps to clear up some confusion!

Present the Child and sever his neck. For this is the divine decree of the One who reigns supreme over us all.


A place, full of darkness.

So obscured, that discerning the area is close to impossible. The only things visible being the cold, stone surface that is dimly lit by a solemn speck of Light shining through the thick layers of shadows.

What is Light?

Where does Light come from?

Why is there Light here?

Here, in a place devoid of Light?

It shines on something else in this space.

A woman.

She is dressed in soft, loose white robes that encompasses her slender outlines.

Her hair is as white as the coldest winter. Her skin as pale as the very idea of devoidness of life.

She is on her knees, seemingly worshipping the dim Light that shines through this place of darkness. Muttering the same phrase over and over with her eyes closed:

“I await you, I await you, I await you.”

This goes on for a long time, until suddenly…

You walk towards her.

You cannot depict Your very own entirety. However, You are cognizant that You are holding a sword overlapped by its scabbard.

You unveil the sword from its scabbard, revealing a blissful, mourning light being shone upon the blade. Your footsteps grow heavier as You take a deep breath, Your eyes fixated on the Woman, her back still turned away from You.

The Woman notices Your arrival, as her chant strangely differs, and she opens her luminous silver eyes, crying out black tears that taint her pale face. She looks upward and begins to smile, chanting in a muttered tone:

“Oh, Thy Light, I have completed my duty. It is I, the Mother of Desolation who hath brought upon the Child of Darkness. My unholiness, admits to your Will. My unholiness, brings forth, the salvation of humanity!”

The black tears intensify.

It begins to cover most of her jowls.

You get closer to her. With each step You take, her voice grows louder in apprehension. She does not turn to You but rather stays in a prayer-like position.

She repeats the same chant over, and over.

“…who hath brought upon the Child of Darkness…”

You get closer.

“…my unholiness…!”

Your blade starts to glow even brighter in the dim Light, as You have stepped within the same area as the Woman kneeling right before You. Her voice grows even louder; almost sounding grotesque. As if she is no longer hiding the fear and despair she has been feeling all this time.

“…brings forth….!”

You hold Your sword in the air and aim it at her back. The sword now fully encapsulated by the Light. The sharp edges appearing even more forbidding.

“…the salvation…”

You stand right behind her, and pierce her heart with Your blade. The woman's position remains unchanged, her back still facing You as the violet red blood descends from her mouth, and the gape in her chest spills out blood over the stone-cold surface.

The blood spreads everywhere.

It begins to cultivate a voice.

The voice talks to You, “The Flow of Luminosity shall bring us together, as that has become the will of The Light. I shall see you soon, oh Child of Darkness, the unborn…”


The chilling night air hung heavy over the land of Aradon as the Holy Church's assembly set forth on their solemn march. The moon cast an eerie glow upon the armored figures, their faces obscured by helmets adorned with sacred symbols. The rhythmic trudge of their footsteps echoed through the darkness, harmonizing with the fervent chants that filled the air.

“Thy Light, guide us,”

“Worship the Divine Trinity,”

“For through The Light, we shall prevail!”

“Through the Light, darkness shall disappear!”

“Through the Light, we shall bring an end to the Child of Darkness!”

This march held a greater significance, for it was not merely a patrol duty or a local objective they sought to accomplish. It was a pivotal moment in their grand design—to reclaim the Sanctuary of the Southern Will and establish the dominion of the Holy Church throughout all of Aradon. The very thought of this achievement fueled their hearts with fervor, igniting an unquenchable flame of pride.

As their numbers swelled, their voices rose in unison, creating a thunderous symphony of devotion. The resolute echoes of their chants reverberated through the night, a testament to their unwavering dedication and resolve.

With each resounding step, they pressed forward, unwavering in their conviction. The march of the Knights continued an unyielding tide of faith and determination, poised to sweep away the forces of darkness that stood in their path.

Marching alongside them, was a cunning young man named Donathan. A charismatic individual whose presence commanding attention even amidst the sea of armored figures. His brown disheveled hair slightly covered his face filled with fervor. His jade green eyes set dreadfully in their sockets.

"We draw near, Serpio," Donathan proclaimed, his words carrying the weight of their final opportunity. "This is our moment, our chance to avenge our dear Mother!"

A steely resolve gleamed in Serpio's eyes as he nodded in agreement. "Indeed, brother. We shall not squander this precious opportunity. Our Mother's sacrifice demands nothing less than absolute victory!”

“So it is written. Let us skew his heart tainted by Evilness. Dear Father will be oh so proud!”

“So it is written!”

Besides Donathan was another young man named Serpio, who was noticeably shorter than his older brother. He was adorned with a graceful smile that brought a serene contrast to his white-silver hair and blue eyes. A very optimistic person, you could say. The two brothers were esteemed members of the assembly of Eden. The one who governs the seventh Division of the Holy Church, the Sacred Flames. Tasked with identifying heresy, enforcing dogma, and maintaining the purity of faith.

Ever since the death of their mother, they both decided to live their life to their fullest and center their entirety on the dreams of their parents of becoming esteemed members of the Sacred Flames. Serpio was arguably someone more predicated on the morality practiced by more specifically the Sacred Flames, while Donathan was someone who was known to follow his righteous heart full of good ambitions. While the two displayed evident differences, they were inseparable, and were, if fought together, a force to be reckoned with.

Despite their contrasting appearances, they shared an unbreakable bond as brothers. Donathan, the towering figure with broad shoulders and a rugged exterior, was known for his unwavering bravery and protective nature. His motivation stemmed from a deep sense of duty to keep his younger brother safe, as if it were his life's purpose. On the other hand, Serpio, with his lean frame and sharp features, possessed a quick wit and a keen intellect. While he admired Donathan's physical prowess, Serpio felt burdened by the constant need to prove himself and live up to his brother's heroic reputation. He harbored an internal conflict—a desire to establish his own identity and prove his worth beyond being the 'younger brother.'

Together, they formed an unbreakable team, each contributing their unique strengths and overcoming their own inner conflicts in the face of the horrors that awaited them. However, the horror that would await them this time, was something unmatched from its predecessors…

"The voices of Fate are crying out her tears. Prepare yourselves for battle, brethren!” Exclaimed their Lieutenant Cassius, jumping off his horse as all Knights present unsheathed their blades. As each second passed, the tension grew higher. The two brothers were visibly more apprehensive than ever, as they could feel that the presence they have been searching for most of their life was amidst the area.

They all stood in front of a grandiose building that homed the Sanctuary of the Southern Will. Ever since it was overtaken by the Fallen Ones, it became one of many Sanctuaries the Holy Church sought to retake. The door was slightly left ajar, indicating that their arrival was already anticipated. It was now or never, or so the two brothers thought.

And at the peak of the tension, Cassius shouted like a thousand clashes of thunder: “In the name of the Eternal Light, we shall vanquish the shadows! Death to the unborn, death to the Fallen Ones!”

As they made their way through the labyrinthine corridors of the fallen sanctuary, the air grew heavy with a palpable sense of danger. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the crumbling walls, while the distant echoes of their footsteps amplified the silence that enveloped them.

Donathan's heart pounded in his chest as they approached a massive iron door. He could feel the weight of anticipation, knowing that whatever lay beyond those doors would test their courage and skills to the limit. He exchanged a glance with Serpio, their eyes reflecting a mix of determination and trepidation.

With a creaking sound, the doors swung open, revealing a dimly lit chamber. The air was thick with the acrid scent of decay and the faint rustle of unseen creatures. As they stepped inside, their senses heightened, every nerve alert to the imminent danger that awaited them.

The tension mounted as they moved deeper into the chamber. Each step echoed ominously, causing their hearts to race. Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the room, freezing them in their tracks. They turned, their weapons at the ready, only to be met with a pair of glowing eyes in the darkness.

“Death to the Fallen Ones!” everyone roared in unison, as the Fallen Ones charged for combat. Donathan and Serpio, united by their shared purpose and the memory of their fallen mother, push forward with a mix of apprehension and unwavering resolve. The towering arches of the ancient structure loomed above them, casting eerie shadows on the worn stone floor. Dust particles danced in the dim light that filtered through stained glass windows, giving the air a hushed, otherworldly quality. The echoes of their footsteps reverberated through the vast halls. They encountered fierce resistance from the Fallen Ones as the clashes of steel rang as the Knights and the Fallen Ones engaged in a deadly dance. Donathan and Serpio fight side by side, with their hearts set aflame.

"Look out!" Donathan exclaimed, his voice booming over the chaos of battle. With a burst of immense strength, he propelled Serpio out of harm's way, shielding him from the oncoming attack. The Fallen Ones' soldier, a towering behemoth, brandished a massive hammer that only someone of equal stature and power could wield. The very sight of it sent shivers down the spine of any who dared face him, for it was a weapon forged for destruction, carried effortlessly in his formidable grip.

The force of the enemy's strike landed squarely on Donathan's valiant frame, a bone-crushing impact that reverberated through his body. In an instant, he was launched through the air like a ragdoll, hurtling towards the Sanctuary they had set out to protect. The impact upon arrival was cataclysmic, the ancient structure trembling beneath the weight of his collision.

“Donathan!" Serpio cried out in anguish, torn between his concern for his fallen brother and the relentless assault of the hulking berserker. The foe's irregular yet mighty swings threatened to crush him, but Serpio's nimbleness and agility were his saving grace. Like a shadow, he danced and weaved, narrowly evading each thunderous blow. With every passing moment, the berserker's strikes grew more ferocious, as if fueled by an unhinged fury.

Serpio recognized his advantage in speed, a slender figure pitted against an imposing mountain of muscle. He exploited the hulking man's cumbersome movements, his blade slashing relentlessly against the berserker's impenetrable armor. The clash of metal rang out like a symphony of war, each strike leaving its mark upon the unyielding surface. Then, amidst the flurry of desperate blows, Serpio seized an opportunity. With unwavering precision, his blade found a narrow gap in the berserker's defenses and pierced through, sinking deep into the flesh beneath.

The hulking man's gargantuan body crumpled to its knees, a mountain brought low by a single, decisive strike. Veins bulged and pulsed beneath the strain, his very life force pouring out through the wound. The air grew heavy with the weight of his defeat, as his labored breaths merged with the fading echoes of battle.

He wasted no second and immediately turned to his brother, yet little did he know…


Donathan lay unconscious on the ground, his gaze fixed upward in despair, as he beheld the Child of Darkness standing beside him. The figure was shrouded in a black coat that seemed to devour the light, lending an air of ominous mystery. Every movement was marked by an uncanny grace, as if He belonged to a realm beyond mortal comprehension. A black hood concealed most of His face, casting a shadow that obscured His features, except for his piercing silver eyes that radiated with an unearthly luminosity amidst the darkness. Donathan's voice trembled as he muttered brokenly, "Serpio..."

Overwhelmed by a surge of anger, Serpio charged towards the Child of Darkness, tears streaming down his face. "You will pay for your sins, you UNBORN!" he cried out, his voice laced with fury. He swung his weapon recklessly, pouring all his strength into the attack, but his strikes proved futile. In a swift motion, the Child of Darkness unsheathed His crescent moon sword and with a single swing, shattered Serpio's blade into irreparable fragments. The force of the blow severed Serpio's arm, leaving him stunned and disarmed, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events. Before he could react, the Child of Darkness closed His grip around Serpio's throat, lifting him off the ground. Gasping and grunting for breath, Serpio locked eyes with his immobilized brother, tears mixing with his anguished cries.


It was already too late.

He positioned His sword in front of Serpio's chest, and with a remorseful whisper of "I'm sorry, brother..." Serpio's final words escaped his lips. The blade pierced through his armor, and a gush of blood spilled from his mouth as he coughed his last breath. His head drooped slowly, his eyes devoid of life.

SERPIO!! Nghh…!” Donathan exclaimed as the only thing he could do is watch the gruesome death of his brother in terror. His body was completely numb, he lost a part of his sanity and did not hear the clashes of swords in the background anymore. His eyes began to blur, and the Child of Darkness stepped toward Donathan, Kneeling before Donathan, He sneered, “You did not deserve to be birthed. Your father did not deserve to give birth to such weak men who are not even able to take revenge for those they loved. Your existence is pitiful.”

“My… existence…” he murmured as the Child of Darkness impaled his heart with His crescent moon sword. Blood gushed from his mouth as he succumbed to the darkness, With the only remnants of his sadness and despair being his last thoughts:

“...Is pit… iful…..”

The Knights had suffered a crushing defeat in their patrol. Overpowered by the relentless onslaught of the Fallen Ones, the once noble warriors now lay mangled and lifeless, their limbs and entrails scattered across the battleground. Cassius roared his regret out, his voice laced with frustration and melancholy: “We have been overthrown, retreat!” as he, with no hesitation killed off the enemies that were latched on him, and stepped outside the building; followed by the remaining Knights. Surprisingly, all of them were able to escape the building unscathed. None of the Fallen Ones decided to hunt them down as they wordlessly spectated the fleeing Knights that turned their backs on them, a silent testimony to the carnage they had unleashed.

“Lieutenant, it must be because He was alongside them!”

The lieutenant furrowed his brow, scanning the chaotic scene. "Are you correct? I did not notice him!"

“I am! He was amidst both Serpio and Donathan!”

“Where are they?!”

“I… I don’t know, sir!”

The lieutenant clenched his fists, determination etched on his face. “Nghh!! Go! I shall bring them back!”

“What? Sir, please don’t! At least let us go with you!”

"Don't make me repeat myself," the lieutenant said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "I shall see you at our site shortly. Just go already!"

The Knight did not want to disobey his Lieutenant.

He wordlessly turned away, following the other fleeing Knights with tears welling up in his eyes. His demeanor was solemn, as Cassius took a moment to gasp for air. Sweat and blood descended his face, his head began to feel extremely light, and he lost his composure. The only sound bringing him back to reality being the sudden screams filled with despair from the remaining comrades.

He mindlessly turned around, and it was then that he witnessed his abdomen had been pierced, lowering his gaze in shock as he held his hand on the gape. Drenching it with his warm blood.

He did not know what to think anymore and decided to follow the sounds of his Knights. Stumbling through the forest, trenches and branches whipped against his face, but he could only deflect them with one hand, desperately clutching his mortal wound with the other. “Brothers… Brothers!”




The screams ceased.

They were replaced by gurgling noises that echoed through the air like a macabre symphony. Cassius's steps faltered as he reached the horrific tableau that lay before him. The remnants of his fellow knights lay lifeless, their bodies severed from their heads in a grotesque display. The look of terror and despair etched upon their faces, their eyes frozen in a haunting gaze.

“H- huh…..”

Before Cassius could process what was going on,

his head was decapitated with great velocity. So much so that he was able to mutter, “Uh…..” before his head came tumbling down on the ground. The one standing atop his body was a pale, skinny figure, who was, much like Him, coated with a black hood that obscured most of her face. She was dressed in a black robe that covered her entire body, and she wore various garments ranging from necklaces to rings and wristbands. Her nails were painted black and her tresses were as white as snow. Her eyes were the same as Him, luminous silver that could pierce your very soul.

She wordlessly ambled her way back to the building, where the Fallen Ones awaited her return.

“I have extinguished the remnants of Light, my Lord,” she said to Him, as she, as well as every other Fallen, fell onto their knees and bowed before Him, the Child of Darkness, Imbra.

Amidst the kneeling members, there was one other woman who was very apparent to the woman in black robes. While was also adorned with the same eyes, as well as the garments, she wore an all-white robe and covered her face with a white hood. She was the only one that did not kneel before Imbra, yet stood right in front of him. Imbra looked down on her, as she, with a cold, broken voice proclaimed:

“I, Luminia, who has been incarnated into Aradon as a manifestation of The Light, its Will rejects my worship, as everything is destined to dance with the Flow of Luminosity...”

The Desolate Blade