Chapter 1: the gamble

Aurora borealis, the broken sky.

Who would’ve known the heavens were protecting us from such a monster.

The outer god, rampage

The moment we saw it’s indecipherable face, we felt an overwhelming feeling of dread. Who is that? Is he old or young? Why do I feel like I know him? Do I know him? Countless questions ran through our heads. After all, seeing that, all we could do was think. Well thats not entirely true, we could’ve prayed instead.

Finally, almost purely to break the silence, the bravest voice pierced the air.

“So I guess this is the end, huh?”

“I suppose so. Should I call it karma? I might deserve this for all the things I’ve done after all”.

“No. The end is not dictated by the creator. It’s not dictated by the destroyer either. It’s dictated by the last one standing. It’s time we take a gamble. We should use that”.

The sky seemed to flinch at the very mention of it, the air crackling with an ominous energy, as if nature itself recoiled from the power which was about to be unleashed. “Do you mean the forbidden spell..” “That spell? The one that can bring someone to another worldline?” he began, his voice shaking with anticipation and nerves. “But we don't have… anything to sacrifice. You don’t mean…?” “Of course… everything we have, everything we are… what's the point in holding back now? If we fail its gone anyways Do our lives hold enough value?” “We have no choice,” came the cold, resolute response. “We have to have enough value. Silas! You are the only one of us who can use it, what do you need to use it?”

“What will I need? First I need time. Can you buy me 5 minutes?” Without hesitation, the first figure, Kasiel, took out his sword, a chaotic energy exuding from his whole body. The air around him turned dark and cloudy, and words seemed to emerge from deep within his soul.

“Chaotic series: draconic slash” The world shook. Kaisel jumped at rampage, bloodlusted, and ready. That’s when, for the first time, rampage smiled, and something that sounded almost like a laugh emerged from his entire body. His voice wasn’t coming from his body. His voice was coming from our minds. “Mortal” He was mocking us. He was looking down on us. But in the end, i think that was the only reason our plan worked. The battlefield erupted into chaos as Kaisel’s strike connected—or rather, failed to. His blade, imbued with his whole being, collided with an unseen barrier just inches from Rampage’s form. The impact unleashed an explosion that deafened all of us, but Rampage remained unfazed, its mocking laughter cutting through the cacophony like a blade. Kaisel didn’t falter. He pulled back, his aura flaring as he prepared another attack. “I’ll carve that smile off your face,” he snarled. Meanwhile, everyone else poured their life force into the forbidden magician, Silas. He crouched in the center of the sigil and poured his focus into the spell. His hands trembled as he traced the runes, each stroke pulling energy from the very fabric of reality. “Im nearly finished,” Silas muttered under his breath, sweat dripping from his brow. “Kaisel, don’t die on me!” Kaisel’s only response was a roar as he unleashed another strike, this one infused with all the power he could muster. “Chaotic Series: Infernal Wing!” A fiery crescent tore through the air, scorching everything in its path. Rampage tilted its head, or at least what we perceived as a head, curious, as the attack barreled toward it. At the last moment, it raised one impossibly large limb and swatted the attack aside like a bothersome insect. “Pathetic,” it said. But Kaisel wasn’t done. The deflected attack exploded behind Rampage, and in the blinding light of the blast, Kaisel closed the gap. He lunged forward, his blade aimed directly at the god’s center. For a moment, it looked like it might connect. Rampage’s form flickered, its body twisting into an incomprehensible shape. Kaisel’s blade passed through empty air. Before he could react, Rampage’s hand—or what could be called a hand—struck him. The force sent him hurtling across the battlefield, his body crashing into a crumbling wall. “Kaisel!” someone shouted, but there was no time to check if he was alive. The sigil beneath Silas began to glow brighter, the air around it thick with the scent of burning flesh and ozone. Everyone began to keel over, as our bodies were converted into pure black mana to fuel Silas’s creation. “I just need a little more time!” Silas yelled, his voice strained. Rampage turned its gaze toward the ritual, its smile fading. It took a step forward, the ground trembling beneath its weight. “No, you don’t!” It was the one who planned this from the beginning. His voice rang through the air, sharp and determined. Cairis , the druid, stepped between Rampage and the spell. His body shimmered with emerald light, his connection to nature giving him strength. “Cairis, don’t!” Silas shouted, panic creeping into his voice. “You are this world's last hope. Avenge us later, if you can,” Cairis replied, his voice only ever steady. He raised his hands, and the ground around him erupted with life. Vines as thick as tree trunks shot up, wrapping around Rampage’s limbs. They glowed with the same energy as the World Tree, a desperate attempt to bind god in place. Rampage paused, looking at the vines as if they were amusing toys. It flexed, and the vines snapped like threads. “You’re brave,” Rampage said. “But bravery is foolish in the face of me” Cairis didn’t flinch. He closed his eyes, and his body began to merge with the earth. His form became translucent, his essence molding into a new World Tree. “No!” Silas screamed, realizing what he was doing. Cairis smiled heartily, his voice a shout of honour. “It’s okay. This is the end of the line for me. When you meet me on the other side… hit me in the face. For now, avenge us” Silas's hands trembled as the sigil devoured Cairis's essence, the emerald glow fading into darkness. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to keep drawing runes. Every line he traced felt like a betrayal, but there was no turning back. Cairis's trust burned brighter in his mind than the magic itself: 'Avenge us.' The sigil began to shine, a blinding light that forced everyone to look away. Silas gritted his teeth, channeling every ounce of his will into the final incantation. The air crackled, reality itself bending under the weight of the magic. Rampage moved to strike, but the light reached its peak. With a deafening roar, the spell activated, tearing through the battlefield like a storm. For a moment, there was nothing but white. Then, Silas opened his eyes. He was somewhere else. The familiar weight of his weapons was gone, replaced by a body that felt weak and fragile. His surroundings were dimly lit, the air thick with incense. He recognized the place instantly. “No…” he whispered, his voice trembling. “This can’t be…” He was back. Back in the cult’s training chambers, surrounded by the faces he thought he’d never see again. A voice barked out, sharp and commanding. “You! Step forward!” Silas’s instincts kicked in. He moved without thinking, stepping into the circle. A figure opposite him lunged, a blade aimed at his chest. His body was weak, but his mind wasn’t. Decades of experience took over. He sidestepped, grabbed the attacker’s wrist, and twisted. The blade slipped from their grip, and before he realized what he was doing, he drove it into their throat. Blood splattered across the chamber floor. The room fell silent. Then, cheers erupted. “Well done!” one of the cultists shouted, clapping Silas on the back. “Your first kill! The beginning of a true assassin!” Silas stared at the body at his feet, his hands trembling. Something shifted within him, a strange, cold sensation crawling through his veins. [System Activated.] A voice, mechanical and emotionless, echoed in his mind. Welcome, User. Synchronization complete. Accessing parameters. “What…?” Silas muttered, his head spinning. The cultists continued to cheer, but Silas wasn’t listening. He could feel it—something new, something powerful. And as he looked at the blood on his hands, he realized that the gamble had worked.